Nagrij
"Make my wish come truueee... all I want for Christmas," Jake managed to get out, just before running out of breath.
Then he got moody again and closed up; not even his favorite holiday song was breaking him out of his funk this time.
"What's wrong, man?"
He dumped himself bonelessly on his couch.
"I just wish I could do it like you do."
"Do what?" I asked, even though I already knew.
"Talk to people. Get dates like you do. You make it look so easy - you just walked up to some girl you never met before yesterday and asked her out, and she said yes right on the spot! That never works for me."
"That's because you aren't confident enough, Jake. It's all about the confidence." I'd explained all this before.
"I know. But every time I get near someone like that, I get all tongue tied."
"Look Jake, you agree with me that no one should be alone on Christmas, right?"
I knew he did. He nodded.
I'd have to handle this carefully. "Alright, so how about I swing by Christmas day? We can work on that confidence of yours, over eggnog."
Jake brightened right up. "Sure. See you in a couple days."
"You bet, man."
"Christmas day, I'm bringing your date! You best prepare!" I ran before he could do more than yell a few choice names at me.
It was the twenty-second of December, and I needed to go to work. I hated my job sometimes. And by sometimes I meant when I was awake; working retail sucked like nothing else. I had stopped by Jake's because he texted he needed some holiday cheer; I was his only admitted friend so I was the only option. My sister didn't count, or so he told me.
I hadn't told her that he said that, there would have been blood.
Jake was an old friend of the family, since the earliest days of middle school. The kind of guy you rapidly fell out of touch with past high school when you went to college - except we hadn't. We were still the best of friends, even though more than one of my other, newer friends had not liked him.
It was weird, but they just didn't know him like I did. A quiet introvert, he loved art and music, he painted and sculpted while I stocked shelves. Some of those friends had even tried to tell me he was gay, as if a love for hip hop or boy bands just painted you with that brush. I was willing to bet more guys loved Justin Timberlake or whoever was hot now than would admit it. Not my cup of, well, anything, but to each their own.
I got to the store, our local chain drug store, and clocked in. Of course our manager wasn't here; he'd taken his vacation. But unfortunately for us, he had left detailed instructions on what he wanted done and by which day. Thankfully, I was on unloading our truck today. True, our manage did hate my guts, but at least I wouldn't have to deal with our loving customers if I was in the back.
The other bad news was that it would just be that much harder to get Jake a date in time. Part of the reason the manager hated me was he was a forty year old balding virgin who only saw pin ups in his life, and he didn't like me talking to our young twenty-somethings who came in looking for midol and pregnancy tests.
So I was in the back, jamming to the oldies, working up a massive sweat pulling boxes off the line due to some severe jealousy. Which wouldn't have been so bad, except I was doing the whole thing myself due to call-ins. I bet if I looked out on the floor, everything would be half stocked but the seasonal crap, which would be spilling into the other shelves because we always ordered way too much and no one bought it.
But I wasn't management, so I couldn't talk sense into them about it. If you weren't in a tie no one in the company heard you.
"Hey, Payton."
"Hey, Janice." Janice was a bit older, a bit more lined, weary, and bowed by time than I was. Not to mention far more cynical. She wasn't a looker, never had been, but she had a certain gravity about her. I liked her.
Wait, she might have friends! "Hey, Janice!"
She shut me down. "No, whatever it is."
"Oh come on, you haven't even heard what it is yet."
She leaned back to hold the wall up and lifted a foot to massage it. "Knowing you, it's about getting a date."
Okay, Janice knew me a bit too well. "Kind of? Hear me out, please. I've got a date, but I've also get a friend, and this friend is painfully shy. He doesn't have a date, and finds it really hard to meet girls, so I'm trying to help him out, because no one should be lonely at Christmas."
"Shit, you actually have a point," she told me. "But I don't have any single friends. I'll ask around, and see who might be available and desperate enough. Maybe with more notice...."
I waved her off. "If you don't know anyone, you don't know. I'm just trying to help him out; it's a spur of the moment thing, really. His actual gift from me is a new tablet, but I've always been his wingman, and old habits die hard. If he knew that I was asking around, he'd tell me to knock it off."
Janice shrugged. "It's still a good thing you're doing, if you're telling the truth about it."
Wow, she thought so little of me. "I'm hurt. Wounded to the core, even. I've never once lied to you."
"You called me beautiful once." Janice pointed out.
I grinned. "Meant every word, too."
She snorted laughter my way.
"What did you come in here for, anyway? I can't imagine you missed the heat." It didn't matter how cold it was outside or even in the store, the unloading room was always a bit of a sweat lodge. With enough rain the substandard air conditioning just gave up, and the room became a full sauna.
"Came for a cart of health and beauty," Janice admitted without a hint of self-conscious embarrassment, ignoring the two full carts of health and beauty products next to her in favor of massaging her other foot.
"Good, so long as you're working."
She ignored my sarcasm, grabbed the first cart, and dragged it off.
It was dark by the time I finished unloading the truck, and I was the proud owner of a new hour of overtime. That was fine with me, it meant my Christmas gifts were paid for. It also meant I was in the store well after closing, since I was silly enough to finish up.
Now it was time to drive home and drink beer until I fell asleep. Then tomorrow I'd finish my last minute shopping and get a date for Jake. He had to be sick of hanging out with just me by now, and my parents were in Tahiti this year so we couldn't go there.
Wait, why did we never go to Jake's parents to hang out for Christmas? Or even ever? We almost never did go see them, it was weird. Maybe I'd ask him later. When I cared more.
I hated traffic in this town; even at night there was enough to be annoying, and you had to fight it. It always took at least ten minutes too long to get anywhere. At least the little twerp from 2C wasn't parking in my spot again. I crunched through the snow to my door, opened it, and ducked inside.
And then grabbed my first beer, conveniently left near the door. Jiggling the mouse on my desk woke my computer up. No new messages, and only a few new updates to friend's posts... all girls of course. The same old pictures of food or scenery, or the even more self-absorbed selfie. It worked well for my purposes, even though staring at the food did tend to make me hungry.
......
My phone was going nuts. How many rings had it been? Ten or twenty?
I managed to find it; my eyes took a few more rings to focus on the caller id. It was my sister.
I sighed and clicked the button to accept the call.
"You're an idiot," was the first thing she told me.
"Good morning to you too, sis."
"It's afternoon, dumbass. What possessed you to make another empty promise to Jake?"
"Who said it was empty?" Oh, water. Good plan; I fell over emptying the glass. The messages from last night mocked me with their refusals.
"I did, idiot. You said you'd find him a date, for Christmas... again. He told me."
Right, Jake always told sis everything. Probably because she was scary. She was all of that, and more.
"Right, and?"
Sis sighed loudly over the phone. "Since when has that ever worked?"
I thought a minute. Then thought a minute more. Then a minute more. "Fair point, but I'm an optimist! This time, it'll work."
She sighed again, so I got serious. "You should have seen him, sis. He was so sad. I don't want him staring at knives again that way."
Sis sighed again. "I get it, Pay. I get it."
"Good, so you'll help?"
"Not on your life. I'm not setting up any of my friends on your fool's errand, but... well, if you strike out today, call me back and we'll see."
That was a no, but not a no. She sounded pretty sure I was going to strike out, too.
"Why would I do a silly thing like that?" I mean, seriously.
"You'll do as I ask little brother, if you know what's good for you." With that ominous prediction, she hung up on me.
Well, that wasn't going to be an issue, because this year was the year I came through for Jake. Even though it was closer to afternoon than morning, and I was running out of time. There were bound to be all sorts of last minute lonely shopping ladies out there to harass! Or ask, I mean! After all, if the cops weren't called, it wasn't a crime.
The best place to go was the mall. I threw on clothes and made my way there, braving the truly staggering masses of people. Actually, driving was probably a mistake today. Walking would take longer but it would give me more chances to spot victims... er, potential dates.
All I needed to do was look for the ones shopping alone. Usually that was a dead giveaway, and there were always more of them than people seemed to think.
Like that one, a tall blonde walking down the street, her heels clicking smartly along the sidewalk, in a pantsuit and very expensive looking cashmere jacket and a bag already held in her left hand.
Her perfectly painted face curled up in a snarl as I got close and she said: "Get lost, creep," in a bedroom, come hither voice.
She would have been perfect, but she looked like the type who knew karate, and I know how that scene ended.
Maybe that brunette? No, she had a ring, and some of her gifts were small toys. The learning kind, not the fun kind, so she was a young mother. She wouldn't leave her kids alone to party, and it would be mean to ask.
I was pretty sure Jake liked redheads anyway. Or maybe that was me. Jake didn't really have a preference I was aware of, unless 'alive' counted. There weren't any redheads nearby anyway, so it was a moot point.
The mall was as rich a hunting ground as you could ask for - so long as you could swim upstream of all the old or hefty folks. Or old and hefty folks. It was harder than I anticipated, and having to shout over all the noise ruined my delivery some, but the line 'how about helping me with a Christmas miracle?' at least got some nibbles.
Far fewer were interested when they realized I wasn't the target of this Christmas miracle, and fewer still interested once I showed them Jake's picture, conveniently on my phone for this purpose. And absolutely none were interested when I told them it was for Christmas day. Not even word of how set Jake was for life (lucky sob had much better prospects than me, going to college for computer crap).
This wasn't good, I was running out of time. Where was everyone's holiday spirit?
"Come on, Holly," I wheedled my current target. "He's got no one, on Christmas! You know how sad that is?"
Holly was a mousy little thing that was cute if you were into the slightly frumpy librarian look, and more importantly, judging by the crap she was buying (software and games) she and Jake would get along great.
"I'm sorry, really," was her reply, and she did look it. "But my family expects me home for the holidays, and my brother just got back from his tour, and...."
I held my hand up and beamed my best smile at her, because she really was trying to take the sting out. "Say no more, its' fine. If you can't, you can't. Thanks for your time, and happy hunting."
I pointed to her bag so she knew I didn't mean my kind of hunting. She stammered and blushed and waved goodbye, grateful to be away from the crazy guy no doubt. That was fine, I'd been called worse and to my face.
I refused to be deterred!
......
By nine, I was pretty deterred. Not one. Not one single girl, lady or even otherkin (I'd found two!) was willing to help me help Jake. I was sure if they just got to know him, they would jump at the chance to spend time with him, but I couldn't get anyone interested in doing it on short notice. I did get six numbers - but only after I promised to call after Christmas, not before. I also got another six for me alone, also for after Christmas. Didn't help me of course, but it would come in handy later.
Of course, my phone rang, right on the second of nine-o-one.
"Hello, sis."
"Well?"
"I'm still looking." There was absolutely no defensive whining. That was due to the extremely large woman wheezing in front of me as she checked out.
I might have been forced to buy a few things in order to avoid being thrown out of stores by security. But I admit nothing!
"Stores are closing, little brother. Why don't you just admit defeat?"
Wait, how had she known I was at the mall?
She answered me without prompting. "You always do your thing at the mall when you feel pressed for time."
"Freaking psychic. No, I take that back; if you were psychic you'd know I have had some nibbles, and I'm very hopeful."
She snorted rudely in my ear. "You're always hopeful, that's part of your problem. I'm betting you got no one to say 'yes I'll go on a christmas date with your friend', right?"
"That's true, but the night is young." If I lied to her, she'd just get worse. She always got worse if you lied.
"It's not that young little brother, all the good little girls will be home in bed, with visions of sugarplums yadda yadda yadda."
"Then I better get going."
"Wait! Can you...!" It felt good to hang up on her. She wouldn't call back yet, but of course I'd pay for it later.That was fine, I couldn't be too whipped. She got worse if you had no spine either.
Besides, I wasn't about to buy her crap for her, she was lazy enough as it was, and any time I admitted being near a store of any kind always ended up with a 'could you pick me up a...?' It sucked, because what she wanted was always embarrassing, like the pill or tampons or feminine itch treatments.
If she'd just twist the arm of a friend or two for Christmas, I'd buy her a box of whatever, and pay for it myself. But no, that was plan B. Or maybe plan C. For now, plan A was in full effect, and I got moving.
.......
Plan A was a failure, even with a new mall in the mix. It was officially eleven, and now only Walmart was open. And Walmart was a place more suited to finding Halloween dates than Christmas ones, so that was right out.
And Sis was calling me again. "Yes, Chris?"
"Nice try, but no dice. You struck out, huh?"
"I have. Unless you want to help?"
She surprised me. "I'm going to. I've got a girl all lined up. But you're going to have to be at my apartment bright and early, no later than nine, if you want my help. We're going to surprise Jake this year."
"We? Since when did this gift become an us thing?"
"Since you called me, claiming you were going to screw with Jake's feelings again."
Okay, now that was bullshit. "I never said any such thing."
She sighed. "I know you didn't. Look, just... tomorrow at nine, yes? Or does Alexis need to find out about Jessica?"
Oh, that was low. "Wow, just... wow. Even for you."
"What do you mean, even for me? You saying something about me that will inevitably lead to more pain for you? Is that what I'm hearing?"
Sigh. "No, but you don't need to go that far, I was going to go anyway. I'll come meet your friend."
"You'll come, sure. But will you come early enough?"
She wanted me to say it. "I'll come early, jeez."
"Good, go home and get your beauty sleep. You'll need it."
Going home was even worse than walking out here; there was almost no eye candy to try and redeem myself with, but there were even more people around, the last minute desperate types were now even more desperate as all the chains began to close. Kind of fitting I guess.
I realized I was out of beer only after I got home. Today just wasn't my week, and tomorrow wasn't going to look any better. Falling into bed and letting it swallow me for a month was tempting.
......
My alarm was going off. Not my normal alarm, oh no. The 'omg my sister is an asshole' alarm.
It was eight, which was almost a half an hour after I set the gadget for; it was barely enough time to get showered, dressed, and halfway across town to my sisters apartment by nine. Breakfast along the way was a distant dream.
Five minutes, some mouthwash gargling to take care of morning breath, some jeans, a shirt, and a coat, and my keys later and I was out the door. I'd take the bus since parking today since both the roads and parking today would be even worse.
It had snowed a little during the night, and the white stuff was a beautiful coat of white paint over the old city, turning the squalor 'rustic'. The slush on the roads was dangerous when combined with the traffic though.
There was no one waiting for the bus at this ungodly hour. There wasn't even a homeless guy sleeping it off in the stop. This was Ralph's normal stomping grounds- I hoped he was somewhere warm, we got along. I'd slip him some breakfast money if her were here - that way at least one of us would have it - and he'd laugh at the joke, and show me the receipt later to prove he'd actually gotten food.
I didn't believe it for a second of course, I was pretty sure he dug those receipts out of the same trash he threw the ones he got from the liquor store in, but it was cool that he made the effort.
The bus was number 33, and it wasn't exactly springtime fresh, but the smell of baked cookies and perfume did a good job of fighting off the more normal smells of the cabin. There was also a hint of... febreeze? I made a mental note, this bus driver actually tried. Not that I'd ever be awake this early again, but maybe the driver would get transferred to a better route.
And then I was at the stop, half a block away from my sister's apartment. The bus left before I could climb back on and feign ignorance.
My phone rang.
"Hello, Sis."
"At the stop?"
Again, she did it. How? "Yeah, on my way."
"Good, I'll let Daniel know you're coming."
Daniel was the doorman; my sister's place catered to the college crowd for the most part, and so had a nod or two to security. Cameras, an alarm, and a doorman that looked more than a little like a bouncer in a suit. He was pretty nice though, if you got him alone.
In front of the clientele? He ws pretty much a jerk. Not even the promise of beer would sway him.
He opened the door. "Go right up, Payton. She's expecting you."
Saying useless things was part of the job I guess. Chris's apartment was on the third floor, so taking the ancient elevator was kind of pointless; it was faster just to walk. The building was just beginning to show it's age, but was still much nicer than mine. It boggled the mind, really. Chris's job as a hairdresser didn't pay that much better than mine, and the college discount helped, but it couldn't help that much. Could it?
Maybe I should look into that. Of course, my college was the local, so it was a lot like my apartment. Christine was going to some fancy make-up college, had a scholarship for it, one made for people in the movie industry. She tried to explain the difference to me once - then slapped me when I fell asleep.
Chris pulled the door open right as I was about to knock. I hated it when she did that.
"Come in, hurry up, we don't have all day here," she told me in a nearly breathless voice. Her eyes gleamed. I knew that gleam, and it didn't bode well for me.
That was my first tip off. The second was that her apartment, normally clean to the point of being immaculate, looked like a flea market or a boutique threw up in it. Clothes were scattered all over the couch, wigs were on her coffee table, boxes of crap I had no use for were all over the floor, some with cobwebs and dust on them.
And makeup and jars of crap everywhere, as far as the eye could see.
"Where is your friend I was supposed to meet?"
Chris shrugged, her eyes to the left, at the wall. The wall which held up a picture of us as kids. "She'll be along shortly. There is some stuff that needs to be done first."
That was the third strike, I was out. "You're plotting something."
"I'm plotting something," she admitted, arms crossed.
I headed for the door.
"Not that easy, brother mine. Do you really want your two special friends to learn about each other? I hear they are super vindictive."
Alexis and Jessica both were a little too hot blooded for their own good. They were fun, but if they knew about each other, knives would probably be involved.
"Don't do this."
"Don't make me do this," she replied, her face as open an earnest as I'd seen her. "Trust me for once. It won't even hurt... much, and it's no more than you deserve."
Fuck, she was serious. She really was going to go through with it if I left.
"What are you planning?"
"You already know, don't demean both of our intelligences."
My sister loved to play dress up. As a kid, she was always dressing her dolls, or styling their hair. She even went so far as to do dye jobs with food coloring and sew their clothes. When she'd gotten bored of that, she moved on to the dog. Poor Taco the chihuahua had never been the same after getting stuffed into a pink tutu.
And when she had gotten bored of that, she moved on to me. She had been bigger than I was, and forcing me into her dresses or coating me in face paint had been child's play for her.
Well, at least until Mom had gotten a hold of her. She had not been amused. Well, not that amused; pictures like the one that graced Christine's wall still existed, and Halloween was rarely a time for superheroes and robots for me, but for the most part Mom stomped those urges down.
For Christine's part, after Mom caught her, she had gotten crafty about things, and moved on to her friends. Not that she entirely forgot about me, oh no. But I got old enough and big enough to hold my own so she was forced to stop.
Until now. "Why?"
"I'm sick of you messing with Jake. He's my friend too, and deserves better than you trying and failing to find dates for him all the time. He deserves better than another call from you stating how you're so sorry and you couldn't get it done this year and can you ever forgive me, and Jake spends another holiday alone. This time, he's getting his wish, even if you have to provide it. Or certain jealous girls get certain phone calls. Maybe even more than two."
"Why don't you go out with him then?"
"Because I have a boyfriend, and I didn't make the promise in the first place. So, I'm going to ask you outright. Accept a little embarrassment for your sin of trying to ruin another of Jake's Christmases, and go surprise him at his house with the new you - or get your own Christmas ruined? Which will it be?"
I thought about it. Whatever else, for all her faults, Christine was at least giving me a choice. Was I really ruining Jakes Christmas by trying (and failing) to get him a date?
There was an empty chair in her kitchen, pulled out. It was clear that seat was where Christine expected the magic to happen. I sat down with a sigh.
"Good girl, Patty."
"Don't push it."
Chris smirked and pulled out her phone. It was too early for photos. "What are you doing?"
"Did you think I picked this ungodly hour for kicks? we're going to be using all this time. You're a major project, and I'm going to need help."
Wait, she was calling friends for this? "Why didn't you just ask one of your friends to date Jake?"
"I did," Chris replied. "None of them wanted to date Jake. All of them, however, did want to give you yours. I think that says something about my friends, but I'm not sure what it is."
"I'll give you a few hints."
She pulled me up and started dragging me. "No time for that. You need to shower. Don't hesitate to use my things, you smell like a man."
"That's because I am one."
"Not today you aren't. Oh, and one last thing? shave your legs. Use the razor on the sink, its new."
"I'm not shaving my legs."
Chris grinned. It was not one of her nice ones. "You will, or you'll get waxed. One of my friends, that's this one," she held up her phone, but I couldn't see the name. "Has already offered to hold you down and do the deed. So again, a choice. The easy way, or the painful as hell way?"
"Be reasonable," I told her, hoping against hope.
"I am. Just tell anyone who sees that you've taken up competitive swimming. It has to be done, otherwise you'll never look right in the skirt."
"Skirt!?!" My shock gave her the edge she needed to manhandle me into the bathroom and shut the door. "In this weather? Are you high?"
"No choice," came her muffled voice through the door. "You'd need major work to pull off pants correctly, and we're going all out today. Jake isn't getting Payton today, he's getting Patty."
Again with that name. That was the name Chris used to call me when dressing me up before. I HATED that name. "That isn't my name, Christine."
"It is today, Pay. Just get used to it - you don't want to answer to the wrong name in a skirt."
That - was actually a valid point. I didn't want people I knew calling me by my real name on a crowded street or something.
"Hurry up bro! We're on the clock! and don't forget to wash that mop you call hair!"
"Whatever, ya frickin' slave-driver."
"I heard that! I'm going to add heels to the list!"
Like hell she would.
I got in, soaped up as little as possible, and hosed down. Despite my efforts more than enough of Chris's soap held out, making me stink like flowers and strawberries. The soap added mango and coconut, of all things. what was it with girls wanting to smell like a produce aisle? It was weird.
I mean, I got flowers. I got spices. But some girls, smelling them just made me hungry. Was that the plan? Whatever, it was unimportant for now. Jake wouldn't care what I smelled like, he would be too busy laughing; I could only hope that I'd be able to laugh about this later. Well that and laugh off the inevitable photos.
Either way, once the rents returned, I would earn my stitches. Mom would absolutely hear of all of this, including the blackmail. I had no idea what sis was thinking, but Mom would be VERY disappointed in her. I just had to hold out until then.
"Come on little bro! Let's not keep our company waiting!"
There were four of them; one was a large nubian amazon with hair poofed out to outrageous heights and a stick figure. She looked like nothing so much as an oddly colored dandelion ready to spread seeds.
The second was one I knew; Melissa was the high school hot chick released out into the real world, who finds out the real world isn't the popularity contest she thought it was. Bright, blonde, and vivacious, she had latched onto my sister immediately as someone who was more put together than she was, which had to be a cosmic joke of some kind. She always looked amazing down to the last detail, not a single hair out of place, and you could tell even through the bulky coat she wore, that she was a girl.
The third was a short chubby thing, cute in her own way. She had the most disapproving look of the group; it kind of reminded me of my Mom. Which told me in a few years, she'd probably be a real shrew. She was also the most conservatively dressed, in a very nice sweater and jeans
The fourth and last had bright green hair to rival the first, poofed up then all the way down to the small of her back. She was also on the big side, and that fact was shown off by the tight minidress she was wrapped in. Her stockings were black and had a few holes that looked intentional. Her nails matched her hair, and she had a ring on one of her middle finger. She also looked older than everyone else, to the point that the green hair really seemed out of place. She was also chewing gum like there was no tomorrow - loudly. With her mouth open.
They were all staring at me as if I were a piece of steak or a wiggling fish, or something. I'd seen the look before, this minute inspection, and it never promised good things.
The green haired one smirked, and spoke in a smoker's gravely voice. "Well, you weren't kidding. This one's a regular diamond in the rough. Even better than the last one you brought us."
Chris gave another of her patented smirks. "I know, right? Group, may I present," She threw her hands wide. "Patty."
The chubby girl next door actually took a step forward and squeezed my bicep. Squeezed it! Without a care in the world!
"Good lines here, more bishie than I've ever even seen before. Have you considered cosplay?"
She was looking at me. "Are you talking to me?"
She made a show of looking around. "Sure am. Well?"
"No, never thought about it. Care to introduce yourself?"
That was a pretty blush. "Oh, sorry. I was momentarily overcome by my feelings of jealousy. My name is Sue."
Chris stepped up, and disentangled our hands. "Careful Sue, this one is dangerous."
Sue blinked, and stepped back, shooting me this look. "What? All I did was ask your name."
She was not amused. "Oh, but you're good."
I turned to Chris, honestly confused. "What did I even do?"
Chris shook her head. "If you don't know, I can't tell you."
Fine, I guess I'd stop apologizing then. It wasn't like these women were here to help me at all.
"Alright, butt in the chair. We've only got six to eight hours to work this particular miracle."
Six to eight hours? What in the hell? "I'm not staying put here until five."
"Honey, many a man would love to stay put while a bunch of pretty women have their way with him for hours." The Nubian Goddess said with a smirk.
"I know better, Ma'am."
"Oooh, you do, do you. You can call me Laq, 'Patty'. Ma'am sounds like my grandmother."
"I didn't want to ask, I'd probably get my head bitten off again."
"Not the most well trained one, is he?" The green haired one said, circling around me. "Good lines though, God. The world is unfair. You can call me Judy, by the way."
"I'm not a horse, Judy."
"No you aren't. You aren't just any old anything, are you? Shame you haven't been trained properly."
"Mom always let him get away with whatever he wanted, it was disgusting." Chris told them, then turned back to me. "Sit."
I turned around, and Laq was looming and flexing. If she started something, I had doubts of my ability to finish it. I was a scrappy guy, but I was a small one. It wouldn't do to fight my way out anyway, it would be considered assault. With the biggest most put-upon sigh I could muster, I sat.
Chris organized. "So, makeup first because we dont want it smeared on the clothes. Sue and I will handle that, and Laq you're in charge of hair. Judy, you handle clothes, but ask us too. Sometimes you're a bit too... enthusiastic."
Just what I needed to hear.
"And I'm nails, of course. I do hope you aren't one of those wild animal types." Melissa stated, grinning at me.
I refused to rise to the bait.
Chris and Sue started opening their plastic cases, clucking over paints and ointments and oils, and whatever the heck else was in there. In short order I was being sponged.
"Just need to change your facial structure a little, here." Sue told me.
"Good luck with that, short of plastic surgery."
"Oh ye of little faith," she told me. "Don't worry, we don't need to change you all that much."
I felt like I was insulted. In fact, I was sure of it.
Both Chris and Sue were allowed to look at the small mirrors on the table, but every time I tried to catch a glimpse they blocked it. I didn't mind Sue leaning over to block my view too much, but I wasn't about to tell her that.
My hands were snagged, one at a time, and Melissa sawed at them with a metal file. There really wasn't much there to file, truth told. She even scraped the tops of my fingernails a few strokes worth. I endured it until she started untying my shoes.
"Really?"
"Yep," Melissa nodded. "Toes too."
"But why?" Surely I wasn't going to be forced into sandals or anything silly in the middle of winter, right?
"Because I do full service, and only full service."
"Not true, Mrs. Baum from a few days ago?"
"She asked me not to."
Melissa put an upraised finger over my mouth. "No, you don't get to ask."
Sue shoved her. "Don't smear anything."
Melissa sputtered. "But you haven't even applied the lipstick!"
Sue stared her down. Melissa actually threw her hands up and backed away a step... then dove down and grabbed my foot again. "Fine, but I still need to do these."
"Knock yourself out," Sue said, turning back to my face."
"Hey Chris, we decided on a hair color?"
"We've decided on a look, why?"
"Well it affects what color the nails are, and you didn't decide to tell me." Melissa pouted.
Chris thought, or appeared to think. "Silver. Use silver, it goes with everything, and it'll look a little jazzy."
"Sure! Silver it is." She started painting my fingernails with something that was most definitely not silver anything... and then reached into a case and produced silver colored press on nails.
Oh great, glue then, and I'd probably need a belt sander to get them off.
"Hold still, you don't want me to get these crooked."
I held still.
"Also, you need to let these dry before doing much of anything. It doesn't take any longer than thirty minutes."
I boggled while she snagged my other hand. That long for this crap? And they didn't move for it? What a waste of time!
"What earrings?"
"Silver, of course."
Wait, earrings?!? "I'm not getting my ears pierced for this crap, Christine."
Christine gave me the look - the 'I'm stupid' look. "Of course you aren't. These are clip ons. I'm not stupid, I don't want you bleeding all over my wig or clothes."
"Good." The line had to be drawn somewhere.
"So, what are you thinking, Judy?"
"I think I've got it pegged. Are we going with glasses?"
"Yeah, Patty here needs some help reading, and she loves to read."
Since when did I love to read? I didn't need glasses either. What was the game, here? Well, other than the obvious.
Whatever, I'd know soon enough - I just had to tough it out.
Toughing it out became hard after hour two... Laq did something to my hair which thankfully did not involve scissors or clippers, then put something on it which warmed my head up and made it itch, and started fiddling with it. I saw brown with a hint of curl out of the corner of my eye.
"Careful, Patty. It's clipped in, so a pull will take more than you want. You'll have to pull the pins out to be safe. Don't worry though, you'll be able to find them."
"Gee, thanks."
"Alright, time to work on that voice of yours," Judy told me. "Repeat after me, and try to mimic what you hear: She sells seashells by the seashore."
The voice Judy used to deliver that old tongue twister was low, breathy, and not even remotely masculine. It was also nowhere near Judy's normal voice. Chris gave me a stare, and I realized I was staring. So I tried.
"She sells seashells by the seashore."
Judy whacked me in the leg with a magazine. "Bad Patty! Bad! Try it again, and actually try this time.
"I'm not a dog."
"Good, a bit better, but still, more breath into it. Wheeze it out for me." she said in the same voice she used before.
Of course Chris had to get into the act. "Come on, use some of those old choir skills. You sang soprano, remember?"
"If I do, will you both shut up?"
"Better, again."
She stared at me until I threw up my hands. "Fine; She sells seashells by the seashore."
"Well, you're getting there. Again." I was reminded of Ash in Army of Darkness repeating the wise man's words.
By the time I was sick of seashells, I sounded different and I was being stared at by everyone in the apartment. I didn't think I sounded female, but I was outvoted.
"So natural."
"Could be better," Judy told us. "But we have to work with what we got. The clock is ticking, after all."
"Right, clothes time. I'm thinking the forest green, what about you Jud?" Chris asked, ignoring me entirely.
"Forest green what?"
"Patty, I'm not going to answer you unless you use your new voice. None of us will."
Oh, bullshit! "Come on, there's no one else here, and you've already embarrassed me in front of your friends. Really?"
Judy ignored me. "The forest green is absolutely the best choice."
I was so getting her back for this. "The forest green what?"
Chris turned back to me instantly. "Oh, Patty, there you are; I thought you'd left before the fun began. And the forest green mini dress of course, to show off those marvelous legs of yours."
Well, at least the threatened mini-skirt hadn't appeared. "I do not have marvelous legs."
"Oh Patty, you're far too modest. You have some simply amazing legs. I'm totally jealous." Sue said, batting her eyes at me.
I turned to her, and raised a brutally tweazed eyebrow. "Why?"
Sue blushed and lowered her eyes. "That sounded like a joke, but it's not. You really do have better legs than I do."
Why did she sell herself so short? Her legs went all the way up. Whatever, compliments wouldn't be welcome here.
"Patty, stop flirting with Sue. She doesn't swing that way." Sue blushed even more as Melissa's words washed over her.
Oh, now that was just uncalled for.
"What way are you saying she swings, exactly?"
"She swings away from you," Judy stated firmly. Now stop being a bitch, Patty."
"It is physically impossible for me to be a bitch, Judy."
"That's the spirit!" Judy cried. "Say it enough times, and maybe someone will believe it."
Chris, my own sister, giggled.
"Alright Patty, moment of truth." Melissa said, holding up a dress that looked more like a warm sweater than anything. It even looked like it was made of wool. "We need to see if this dress will flatter your figure while hiding your junk."
"Eloquent as always, Melissa." Sue sniped.
Melissa bowed. "i do try."
They all turned to stare at me, stepford style. And it was just as creepy here as it was in that movie. Melissa held the dress up again.
"I assume I can move now?"
"You assume correctly, little sis." Chris almost overloaded my smug meter.
"Fine."
I snagged the thing and turned back to the bathroom. No way was I going to give them a free show.
"You're forgetting something, Patty."
I turned back and caught something as Judy threw it me. "Good reflexes, hon."
A bra? Some kind of padded sports bra thing, and...panties? Lacy black panties, to match the bra, I assumed. There was something odd about them.
"You do realize these aren't going to do much for me, right?" I asked, holding them up.
"More than you think, Patty." Melissa informed me with a laugh.
"Just do it, Patty." Chris held up her phone.
"Fine." I surrendered again, got into the bathroom and locked the door.
I found myself leaned against the door, my vision graying, breath coming in gasps. Why was I doing this, again? Was saving myself some pain really worth all this? This wasn't me - it wasn't even close.
And above all that, Chris had never been this.. mean to me before. Not even at her worst; why was she doing it now?
"I don't hear dressing, Patty! I'm dialing!"
"Give it a rest already! I'm doing it!" The dress was a pull up one; I shucked off my jeans, and yes, my underwear, and put on the...underwear I was given. The panties had a sleeve or pocket on the inside. I did not like where this was going, but reading between the lines was easy. I didn't break anything at least.
The bra had padded cups, and they felt real enough. Once fitted over my pecs I looked to have quite the rack. A good inspection would reveal I wasn't packing any of it, but the look was what these girl-demons were looking for. With the dress over the arrangement, even I couldn't tell.
I couldn't zip the damn dress up.
"I can't zip this stupid thing up!"
"Then get out here Patty, or you'll be trying the skirt next!"
I stepped out, and immediately the gushing started:
"Oh my God!"
"Wow.. just wow. Always nice to see it all come together."
"Sometimes I amaze even me."
"That is just plain scary, how good that all works."
Chris stepped up.
"Turn around, and be thankful we took pity on you; this dress is going to be super warm outside."
"Outside?" Of course they wanted me to go outside in this. Why else would they do it?
Sue stepped up and trailed a hand down south. "Hate to tell you stud, but in that dress, you don't look nearly as hung as you think you are. It has some surprises that way. But it really looks like we needed more for the hips."
"We didn't have time. Maybe the next time dear Patty gets bright ideas. Is it on?"
We'll see about that.
"Oh it's very much on, and done well enough. Unless sexy here thinks naughty thoughts, everything should be fine."
I stepped back; her hand was still a little too close. "I wouldn't worry about that. You five have done an admirable job of killing those."
Sue smiled. "Sweet talker."
Chris clapped her hands. "Well, now all you need is some nice stockings, Patty, and some shoes. We have both in your size."
Chris grabbed my hand and set black balls of cloth in them. "Thigh highs, put them on."
"Wow, those sleeves even make the arms look less defined."
I unrolled the stupid things and slipped the first on. I knew how to do this from childhood. They were just big overgrown socks. I just had to make sure my new nails didn't cut them up.
"Good, no runs. Come on Patty, you know how to do this part."
Of COURSE she'd tell her friends that. At least they were too busy looking at her to look at me. The tops of the stockings reached under the dress, and my tormentors all watched the show. I smoothed the dress back down in a hurry to where it normally rested, just over my knees.
"Shoes next," Judy told me, bringing out some sort of boot with platforms on the bottom.
"I decided not to be cruel, so you get platforms instead of heels. We don't want you slipping in the slush and ruining your new dress."
I stuck my feet in, and the boots proved roomier than they looked. They also added a good two inches to me, so I was about Chris's height now. My heel was up higher than my toe, so it was a little weird, but I could manage.
Sue whistled. "Those calves, I just knew it."
"Work out more," Melissa told her. "You can get there, you're not that far off."
"Yeah come work in a stockroom ten hours a day, it'll happen."
Sue gave me a large grin. "Yeah, no thanks. I'll stick to salon work, it pays better."
She had me there.
"Alright, the boots fit?"
I nodded. "My toes aren't pinching at least. You remembered my size."
"Excellent. Here." Chris handed me a dark brown duster with a thick lining. "Put it on. Last minute check, team!"
They all took turns staring at me while I fumbled on the coat, each taking turns giving a thumbs up.
Judy snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot! One last thing."
She held out a pair of thin framed glasses. "Put them on."
I did.
"All good then?" Chris asked, back turned while she put on her own coat. It would be so easy... but no, murder was wrong. And there went the flashes; a few of her friends were even recording. Perfect, that just made everything better.
"All good. No smudges, hairs fine, clothes are on right. You finally found one that can dress herself."
Yeah, fuck you too, lady.
"Alright Patty, pay very close attention to me. We're going out, all of us. Going to hit a few stores, do a few things, talk a lot. You'll need to watch me carefully, and do what I do, or you'll get found out. If you get found out, we're all going to abandon you and might throw you under the bus. Do you understand?"
Wow. Even for her... I glanced at Chris, and she was waiting for it. She nodded. "I understand."
We formed a line, Chris leading, Melissa and Laq following her, Judy following them, and I was stuck following Judy and trying to act as she did. Sue followed me, no doubt in place to report anything I was doing wrong. I changed my mind about asking her out once and for all, she was a female dog.
We marched out of the apartment and piled in the elevator; everyone looked at Sue.
"All good so far," she told them.
"The real moment of truth is outside."
I wasn't sure what she meant by that, it was already far too late to run now. I was also more than a little confused; who did she think I would fool? Everyone would know the minute they clapped eyes on me.
Daniel nodded to us as we stepped out, holding the door. He paid no particular attention to any of us, but he told me to "Enjoy the day, Patricia."
So he was in on it.
The people on the street couldn't be, however, and they didn't look at us twice. Well, other than the obvious second looks women normally got, and I had been giving just yesterday.
I was being included in that, right from the start. Knowing what being found out was going to get me, I smiled over clenched teeth, tuned it out, and focused on Judy, as I'd been told. I didn't do exactly as she did because that would be the quickest way of getting caught, but I did relatively the same thing, usually with a time delay so I wouldn't look like I was playing a kids game.
Sue didn't scream bloody murder, so I was probably doing it right. Or at least right enough.
"So, Patty. Cold enough for you?"
Yes, thank you Laq, I needed to be reminded of how my legs had one thin layer. "It's cold enough for me to feel if that's what you're asking."
"Get some more meat on those bones girl, and you won't feel a thing!"
"Says the one here that I know for sure is thinner than me." I was past being totally civil.
Laq only cackled. "Ooo, some fire! Hey!, hey!"
She walked out of line to a man maybe a few years older than me and dressed like a lawyer or some similar occupation, who had been watching us as we walked by.
"She's single, you know," Laq told him with a wink.
And there it was - he was checking me out again.
Laq cackled again and stepped back into line as we whisked on by. I checked, and the guy was watching us go."
Sue caught my eye and smiled.
I turned back, and checked; there wasn't anyone in earshot, so long as I hissed.
So hiss I did. "Are you trying to get me caught? Is that what this is all about for you? If you just want the spectacle I can do that right now."
The smile slid off Laq's face as if it had never existed. "That's not what this is about, Patty. No one wants anyone hurt here. Relax, you're too uptight; just do as we do, and you won't get outed. That guy couldn't tell, that guy to the right can't tell, no one can tell unless you tell 'em. So just relax and take a breath, okay?"
That sounded... almost nice. Or at the very least, neutral.
I looked to the rest of them.
"Just a girl's day out," Melissa said, sounding bored.
"I want to pick up a few things," Judy said.
"I need to get some last minute gifts," Chris told me. "You know me, I always forget someone."
"I want to get a drink or two," Sue told me with clear excitement.
"You always want to get a drink or two," Melissa told us.
"Guilty!" Sue agreed.
"I.. wouldn't mind a beer."
Now, why had I said that?
Sue smiled. "That's the spirit Patty - quit being such doom and gloom all the time."
We all resumed our formation, and it occurred to me, maybe they weren't trying to escort me to my doom so much as give me some protective camouflage. they did seem to be grouping around me a bit, and it was always harder to approach a group of women rather than a lone person of either gender. Maybe they were using that to their advantage.
But still, it was Chris; if she said one mistake would see me thrown to the wolves, then she meant it. Best not to get too chummy with the enemy. At least not yet. Heck for all I knew this could all be a con.
I didn't think so though.
Judy looked at her phone but didn't raise it my direction. "Alright, so Macy's isn't all that far... let's do my thing first. Chris can look for hers too. drinks can come after that."
There was a chorus of assents that I added to after a beat. "Sounds good to me."
There were even more people around than yesterday, which was something I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around. Once in the store, I went from cold to downright hot, almost in between steps. What sort of person cranked the heat up this much? Had to be a psycho or something. I also couldn't hear the Christmas music over the murmur of the crowd, which annoyed me for some reason.
Laq held a hand out. "Coat off, Patty. It's too hot in here for that thing, I'll carry it."
Reluctantly I shrugged out of it; hot as it was, buttoned up it hid but the shoes and stockings.
Before I could start to feel more than a little exposed (or make a break for it) Chris's friends all closed ranks around me.
"Come on, the silly gifts department is this way."
Chris stalked off in the lead, people parting themselves before her as if she were Moses. Somehow people seemed to know she was the type to stomp toes. Or maybe it was Laq's tall form beside her; she looked equally ready to stomp toes... or more than toes.
Soon we found ourselves in the old cheap five dollar Christmas themed gift section, where all the seasonal 5 dollar makeup kits, first aid kits (for cars, supposedly) and other such kits were located. It was also where people took their purchases to be professionally wrapped, which I thought was a gyp, but no one asked my opinion.
I didn't see what Chris grabbed because Melissa snagged my hand and put something in it. "Look, Patty! This kit has all the best shades for you! Well, except for that one... and that one. And maybe that one. Well, eighty percent isn't bad!"
A makeup kit, of course. All darker colors, for some reason. "I'll take your word for it, Melissa, I'm just a wage slave."
Melissa slapped me gently on the back. "Come on girl, you need to get out more. You'll never meet the best guys locked away in that library of yours. And for the last time, call me Mel, okay? We've been friends long enough."
So I worked in a library now? What was she playing at? "But Mel sounds like that crotchety old guy that runs a diner no one goes to."
Melissa winked. "Exactly!"
I don't think I will ever understand women.
Sue wandered over. "Look at this reindeer sweater! It's so cute!"
She held the thing up to me, so I had to look down to see it. The reindeer, complete with a red nose, was made of yarn and sewn on. It looked like just another stupid Christmas sweater to me. The only thing that could make it tackier was if the nose lit up. Thank goodness it wasn't one of those.
"I... guess?"
"Bah!" Sue scoffed. "Patty the Scrooge. No fun in her soul for silly sweaters."
"Ugly sweaters," was Judy's opinion. Now the one to the right, with the tree? that one looks at least passable."
It did look better than the reindeer. "Kind of?"
"What about these?" Laq asked, holding up some silver star earrings. "They are clip ons." She whispered to me.
They sparkled rather nicely in the light. I'd have liked them on someone else. An actual female of the species.
"I like them."
Laq nodded knowingly. "I thought you might." She pressed them into my palm. Here, take them. They aren't that expensive. Go get them wrapped up, alright? My treat for being such a good sport."
That was nice of her, but I wasn't going to be wearing anything like these ever again.
"I know that look. Just do it - they aren't for you. They are for that special someone when you find her."
Well, that was... I didn't have the words. "Thank you."
"Don't think nothin' of it. That's enough mushy stuff for now, eh?"
The others are spread out a bit, putting their stuff back, some disappointment on their faces. Again, I wondered what they were plotting.
"Here," Chris shoved a beautifully wrapped box in my hands. "That's my gift for Jake. You're going to be delivering it later, so don't lose it."
"Still convinced Jake has to see me like this, huh?"
She winked. "Oh absolutely, Patty. Don't worry, you look totally hot right now."
I bit my lip to avoid saying what I really wanted to. I had the feeling she knew anyway.
"Alright, it's been a busy morning. Let's go get some lunch. and yes Sue, lunch will include drinks."
"Alright!"
Weird. "I thought we'd spend more time here?" after all, they had only embarrassed me for maybe a half an hour, tops.
"In these crowds? Are you nuts? I love shopping, but I don't love it that much."
Melissa nodded agreement, but just had to add: "Unless you'd rather stay, Patty? Get a skirt to go with that sweater over there, maybe?"
"No thanks, I'm good. I'm kind of hungry, actually." I guess that stereotype was fully busted.
"Right, let's go then. I know a place." Melissa said, charging off.
It didn't surprise me that Melissa 'knew a place' close to Macy's. She looked like she camped out here at least a few days a week.
Chris strode after and regained the lead as Melissa got bogged down.
"Hey."
I turned at the voice at my shoulder and was surprised to find the man it belonged to looking at me.
He was a bit on the tall side, fit, with a short neatly trimmed beard and mustache that was a shade darker than his wavy brown hair. He was dressed in a dress shirt and slacks but had a leather jacket that looked warm rather than a suit coat. He had a bag in his right hand, filled with only one gift, and when I turned I caught his eyes flick down to my chest before coming back up.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I hope so. I'm looking for a gift for someone, I was thinking perfume, but I'm not sure. Can you help me pick something out? Hot chocolate afterward, my treat." He smiled winningly and didn't fumble the delivery.
Without a doubt he was good - but I'd used this exact same line on a hottie yesterday, and I'd used it for years. After the lady picks something out, you give it to her, then treat her to a drink or snack, and by the time you leave, she thinks you're charming and you have her number.
Judy stepped up and snagged my hand. "Sorry, but we're all together here, and we're trying to get out while the getting is good. If you want, I can help you real quick...?"
The man glanced at her, and I could feel his lack of interest; Judy might as well have been a block of wood or a statue. "Surely just five minutes to help me? I'll spring for hot chocolate for all of you."
I don't think he knew what he was getting into, or how many of us there were. Nevertheless, it was time to deal with this. I held up the box which held the earrings Laq had pressed on me. I had to focus here, and not deck this guy. some elegant hand movement and a step back, then:
"I recommend the earrings then, they are beautiful! Sorry, gotta go!"
Judy was good enough to pick up my vibe and mock drag me out of range through the crowd; we lost the guy easily, but Sue kept up. It made me wonder how much practice she had. trying to jog felt more than a little weird.
"Not bad, Patty, not bad. I thought he'd sweep you off your feet," Sue informed me once we made it safely outside."You didn't even forget yourself."
"Please, I'm much more smooth than that guy. And I'm not going to get myself murdered in a Macy's. I refuse to go out that way."
Chris rejoined us. "Well said. Mel took off this way, let's go."
The pace Chris set was a slow and stately one, which I was thankful for, I was pretty sure I didn't like running like this. Laq passed my borrowed coat back and I wasted no time shrugging it back on; my breath was frosting in front of me.
Melissa's spot was a combination bar and bistro tucked away in the basement of an old office building. Both the building and the business itself were older than dirt, the kind of place that screamed colonial tourist trap. The only entrance was in an alley and the sign was small, which explained how it was only busy and not packed.
We were able to get seats at the bar; I'd have preferred a nice dark table, but sitting at all today was going to be a luxury.
The bartender was dressed in a suit with a vest and bowtie, and she wasted no time, popping right up in front of us. "What can I get you?"
The crew (I really needed to come up with a name for them; the Barbie dolls? Nah.) wasted no time ordering drinks I hadn't heard of, which meant they had to be girly drinks, all sugar and sweetness and watered down. No way was I doing that, I refused to go down like that.
The bartender turned to me. "And you, hon?"
"A shandy." I missed summer anyway, and I wasn't about to go full fru fru.
Sue winked at me. "Can you change mine? A whiskey, neat."
"Sure!" the bartender replied, turning to mix drinks. Melissa rolled her eyes at Sue.
Sue leaned in close. "So, A shandy? Really?"
"I happen to like them. At least it's not a Shirley Temple or something." That was what Chris had ordered.
Sue nodded along. "Good point. At least it's a beer."
I found myself nodding along before I remembered I hated Sue.
"Ah, there it is. Yes Patty, don't get too friendly with the enemy. I'd salute you if I had my drink."
"You're a weird one, Sue."
"So I've been told," she informed me. That wasn't a protest of innocence or an admission of guilt, I noticed.
"So, can I interest any of you girls in some lunch? It's not bar food, I swear."
I looked into that disarming smile, then at the menu. "A grilled cheese, please."
I kind of wanted fries, but I wasn't sure I could manage to expand my stomach without the dress ripping.
"Sure thing, and for the rest of you?"
The dolls (really needed a better name) all ordered similar food and in similar amounts. The real surprise there was Melissa ordering gazpacho. I would never have figured her as the type for soup; too messy.
We munched away and conversation thankfully came second to chewing. I was beginning to regret keeping my coat on by the time I finished, but a second beer supplied by my new best friend the bartender chased such feelings away.
Chris ate her last bite and made a show of checking her phone. "Alright, it's been a blast, Patty. but you need to get going if you're going to make your date. You know, bus routes being what they are."
I did not like the sound of that. "You want me to take the bus?"
"Why not? There is a stop near Jake's house, and you're a big girl. Surely you can manage."
And there was that toothy smile again.
I tried to cover the way my heart sank in my shoes. "Fine, fine, I know when I'm not wanted. Have a fun night."
Chris stopped me and pressed the box into my hands. "Don't forget this."
I took it gently. "Sure."
Judy got close and put her hands together. "Remember your training, serve you in good stead it will."
I gave her the dryest grin I could. "Thanks, Yoda."
Then she assaulted my face with a tissue and lipstick. "You had a smudge from the beer; Can't go on a date like that."
"It's not a date, you evil stepmom you."
She cackled at me. "Well, I certainly ain't the good witch. But you just keep telling yourself that; it is too a date, you made it one yourself.
She pressed her purse into my hand. "Take it, it's got all you need to repair anything you screw up along the way. Even a car accident."
"Gee, thanks, Mom." We both knew I wasn't even going to open the damn thing... but I couldn't refuse to take it, not with Chris and her phone both right there. Chris did the eye thing, for her part - I'm watching you - and I believed her. She had a way to know if I went to the nearest store or bathroom and took all this crap off. I'd pay in spades if I did it.
Back out into the cold, I was surprised to find the lighting outside and the rather homey lighting in the bar had caught up. It wasn't that late, but winter was winter.
The bus stop was at the corner, and it was packed. I stood with the rest, checking the latest scores on my phone. A check if my texts revealed a few sent from a few female friends of mine, wondering what I was doing; I wasn't going to answer those, it would be just weird to answer them dressed like this.
There was one from Jake, pleading with me not to send another random woman his way; that one hurt.
And then there was one from Chris, warning me not to send any texts at all until I reached Jake's house... with a link to some cute cat videos involving Christmas gifts. I was not amused.
"Cute." a voice rumbled.
Behind me, leaning down toward my phone was a tall older man with salt and pepper hair. His clean-shaven face lined up in that way very lucky men did; he probably looked better now than he had twenty years ago. He was dressed in a suit, boots, and a coat that looked much like mine, and had a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.
In short, he looked way too rich to be taking the bus.
I let the video play; he seemed entranced. "My sister has a fondness for cat videos. I'm more of a dog person."
"It's hard to beat a good dog," he told me. "But I can appreciate a cat's ability to take care of themselves."
"Exactly," I gestured, shutting my phone down before it gave me away. "Cats don't actually need you. As long as you keep the food flowing,.you'll never see them or if you get lucky you'll get to watch them sleep."
"True," The man agreed cheerily, then stuck a hand out. "John."
I dropped my phone into the coat pocket and shook, remembering to keep my grip lighter than normal. "Patty. So what brings you to the bus?"
"I'm headed to a party and didn't want to risk the traffic. Alas, the cab I called broke down, so I left it and here I am."
He pointed and I could just make out a smoking yellow car getting kicked by a crusty looking guy who was probably cursing.
"That's got to suck. Well, I can speak from experience that mass transit works; the bus will get us there, wherever there is."
I can't believe he actually used the word 'alas'.
"Well said. And on that note, our bus is here."
Sure enough, the bus pulled up, and I dutifully stepped back to avoid getting a layer of slush over my clothes. Sure, I didn't like them, but I didn't want to pay to get them professionally cleaned; I didn't make enough for that.
John had danced back just in time; he gave me a wry grin. He waited with me until the crush was over and it was safe to board without getting knocked around.
I had no money for bus fare. My wallet was at Chris's, in my jeans. I was an idiot - with no other option, I looked in the small silly green purse Judy foisted off on me, rummaging around the makeup.
There was a bus pass in it; an old and crinkled one, a simple card without a name or address on it, unlike the later debit card-style passes. Old or not, it was still good; the driver barely glanced at it as he clipped it.
Behind me, John just shoved a debit card in.
The bus was like outside, standing room only. I made my way as close to the back as I could; fewer chances to out myself if fewer people were staring at me.
But it felt like everyone was staring at me. It wasn't as bad as out in the street, at least. I grabbed one ring, and John grabbed the other, and we talked about cats while I scanned around.
I may not have been just dreaming it, it was going to be hard to spot Chris's eyes. Men and women both were giving me first, then second looks. The women were the most confusing; I was used to being looked at like a piece of meat on occasion, but the looks I was getting, say from that middle-aged mom over there was... appraising? Was I being judged for something? and of course, I had no idea what I was being judged for. Well, that wasn't quite true, but it was baffling. I didn't really look any different from any other woman.
I should know, I looked for any differences all day and didn't find any.
I knew they couldn't tell because I wasn't beaten to a pulp yet for being a pervert. Sure, most probably wouldn't, but there was always one that would tell or blurt it out.
Enough, no sense thinking about it. I smiled back as pleasantly as I could at the Mom, and she turned away with a sniff.
Whatever. Back to trying not to fall over; these boots had traction normally, but a wet bus floor was slippery to almost any shoe. The worst was at stops, as people had to get around us.
"My stop, I'm afraid," John said with a faint smile and enough regret to hear in his voice.
"Ah, well have fun at your party. Tell them all hi from Patty, the crazy bus woman."
John paused. "You know, I never asked you what brought you out to brave the crowds."
I rattled my box a little, even though it didn't rattle. "A gift for a friend and a promise."
"A promise?"
"No one should have to spend Christmas alone."
"Ah. Then you would not be interested in joining me."
What? "No, I'm sorry, I can't," There, nice and neutral because even if he is older, he could probably still kick your butt. You're scrappy Payton, but at a disadvantage. "Jake is waiting for me."
A little white lie to cap it off, but he'll never know, right?
"Ah," he said again, as if vaguely stricken. Then he appeared to rally. "Well, then there is only one thing to do."
He made no move as the doors to the bus closed. "But, your stop?"
John tutted at me. Tutted! "I can join the party a bit later, and miss nothing. It's far more important that you keep that promise, so I will escort you to your friend's door. That is if you'll graciously allow it."
I was now pretty sure I knew who Chris's watcher was. He couldn't have made it any clearer if he was holding a neon sign, but that made it easy.
"Sure, if you really want to waste your time, I won't try to stop you. But I'll have you know I have a full can of pepper spray and some self-defense training."
John nodded. "Good precautions for a prudent woman to take. You won't need them with me, Patty. I merely want the time to learn more about you. A few questions while we walk, and in return, I get the peace of mind of making sure a promise was kept on the holidays."
John smiled. "I am greedy, you see. I want to write myself into your tale, if even for a bit part."
I shrugged."you're not the worst guy to be around. My stop is in three more, so you won't be too far from your party either."
If worse came to worse, Jake could help me kick this guy's ass.
"Thank you," John replied, then went silent and started gazing outside the windows.
That was fine by me; with darkness setting in, the city was beginning to look pretty, all lit up and white. It was too bad that was pretty much the opposite of how it looked normally.
The proper stop came up, and I waited for the customary five count before dodging my way through the crush, with John right on my heels. I had to squeeze past a few people, but I managed without getting groped or found out. I had to be careful on the last step and grab the railing to avoid going down. I turned and John was RIGHT THERE.
"Sorry, these boots are good in the snow, most of the time."
John waved me off as I gained some distance. "Think nothing of it. It's best not to take a spill in the street."
"Yeah, I guess." I noticed he had no trouble stepping off, even though his shoes didn't look good for the weather.
He turned to me again as the others at the new stop milled, starting their own bus journey. "So, which way?"
"This way, the right here. We're on the right side, it's just a block and a half this way."
"Right, lead on."
We were barely past the bus stop when he asked. "So, where do you work? Do you go to school?"
To keep with the cover story, or tell a version of the truth? Better stick with the cover story. I looked around; there were few on the street here, at least compared to the rest of the city, and those few around weren't paying attention to us.
"The library, city library. I put the books back."
"Sounds quiet."
"Yeah, I like quiet." Take the hint, take the hint...
He grinned, just enough to let me know he'd gotten my 'joke'. "No school?" He prompted.
"No, I'm a bit on the poor side and college is expensive. Even for wannabe librarians.
"Ah, a shame then."
"Not really," I disagreed. "College isn't for everyone. I have a feeling I wouldn't do well there."
"Really? You seem bright enough."
"That's because you haven't asked me a math question."
My math skills weren't really that bad, but they probably weren't occupation ready.
"Speaking from experience, math skills are overrated in most work environments. I certainly wouldn't want to run out of rocket fuel halfway into orbit, but most positions in the world use less math than you'd suspect. Well, less higher math anyway. But surely, the library isn't the only job you've had? The waiting list for any city job is long, after all."
Oh, he was on to me - I think. Oh well, I didn't like lying anyway. "I worked at a pharmacy until recently, stocking shelves. No real change there between jobs, really. just matching numbers and putting items on shelves.
"So if I wanted a book on astronomy, you could help me. And if I wanted a scentless deodorant...?"
"500, pure science, starting at aisle seven. Astronomy should be close to the end of the aisle, going by subject. And depends on the brand. Usually, that's all aisle 5, for men and women both."
I gave him a little mock bow to finish up. A silly test, I'd known Dewey decimal for years, if only to know which sections of books to stay away from.
"Do you live far? The library is a long commute from here."
"I do. I live in an apartment on the other side of town," I left my gesture vague on purpose. Technically there were two 'other ends of town' from here, and I'd included both. "But I own a car. I just didn't want to take it because of the traffic today."
Thanks, Chris. You didn't want me to miss a single second of crap like this. You'll get yours.
"Ah. What kind of car, if I may ask?"
I flickered a frown. This guy was getting awfully chummy, here. "An old piece of crap roadster. I like it, but it's older than I am, and should probably be retired."
"The classics never go out of style, even if the parts become specialty orders."
I winced. "Don't mention repairs, even in jest. Those hurt."
He laughed and was thankfully distracted. We were almost there, just a block to go.
"So, how long have you known your friend Jake?"
And here we went again. Screw it, I wasn't lying about this either.
"Jake and I have been friends since middle school." Girls and boys could be friends that long, right? I mean I had girl-friends (but not girlfriends!) for that long.
"A long time. And you've never done this before, have you? Dressed up for him and surprised him like this." John's face was bland, disarming, but that question. That had to be a dig, right?
"No, I never have. I always tried to set him up with my friends, but I have never done this. Why, is that important?"
Careful, you can't get caught here. If you refer to your girl-friends as such, you will be; that's definitely a guy thing.
"Not really," John shrugged. "I just think he's a really lucky guy to have you as a friend. You'll forgive an old man for prying?"
It was my turn to shrug a question off. "You're not that old. As for Jake being lucky, maybe. He's always been lucky on some things, so why not his choice of friends? By the way, we're here."
John looked at the house I stopped at, taking it in. For a moment, I saw it as he did.
From the age to the slight air of disrepair that the peeling paint and warping front steps gave. To the size - the way there was no real yard since the place was crowded by the street and it's neighbors. The windows were old and a little dirty, and the curtains were pulled. Jake's car was in the drive, however, and that was the best news I'd had all day.
I opened the gate and walked up the cracked sidewalk, ignoring the slightly bent "beware of dog" sign; Jake didn't own one. I was glad he had apparently shoveled his walk; there wasn't any ice to slip on. A quick glance back showed that John had stopped and was waiting, idly playing with the gate.
I knocked on the door - and waited. And waited. And waited some more.
Not good. "He must be in the bathroom or something. He's home."
"Unless he had the same idea regarding driving as you did." John countered.
That.. was actually a very worrying idea. Screw it, it was phone time. Chris surely couldn't ding me for this, I was technically right outside. I knocked again, but before I could send the text, I saw the front room curtain twitch.
I had to remember to keep my voice as I called out; not easy when raising it. "Jake, come on, it's me! Open up, I've got your present!"
The door opened. I turned back and waved to John. See, sucker? now go report to Chris I did as demanded.
The arm coming out and pulling me through the door was a slight surprise, but I managed to compensate well enough with the help of the hallway wall.
"Thanks, man, I was in a bit of a bind there."
I realized what had been wrong with the hand that had grabbed me - the same thing wrong with my own.- Nail polish on press on nails. Press on nails on a hand currently clenched into a fist.
I looked up to find the last thing I expected. A festive red sweater over sweater puppies to rival the set I was currently sporting, a dark gray skirt that was wildly impractical in this weather, leading to shiny leather boots that were more properly classified as fetish wear than anything else. The face I was staring into was made up, but not a well done as mine was, and it was just on the line - hard to tell if the person wearing it was male or female.
What was even going on? Had Chris beaten me here, without her car?
The hands unclenched. "You... What are you doing here? you're a day early. What are you doing here, dressed like that?"
"Don't ask silly questions, man. Chris, this was all her idea. Did she get to you too, somehow?"
Jake sighed and locked the door. "Come on. Might as well tell you, now. Chris has much to answer for."
"That's what I've been saying all day! she'll get hers, though. Blackmail is frowned upon, even in our family."
"You and your girlfriends, right? You know if you just... nevermind, not the time for that argument." Once in the living room, Jake poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in a gulp.
I couldn't resist. "So... I was going to ask you for a change of clothes - but I'm not in a hurry to do that anymore. So what gives?"
He turned back to look at me. "So unfair. You know, I've done this for years now, and it takes a hell of a lot of time and effort, and the best thing that could be said about me is I can pass, most of the time. You manage to look natural in a day."
"Wait, you've been doing this for years? Multiple years?"
"Since high school," Jake answered, handing me a shot.
I knocked it back and gave him the glass. "Why?"
He took another shot himself before answering. "Because it feels right."
Huh? "Huh?"
"It feels right," he repeated. "Dressing as a woman, being seen as a woman, acting like a woman, feels right to me. Like Jake is the mask, and Jackie is the real deal."
"Jackie, huh?"
"Yep, Jackie. And before you forget, I know all about the young adventures of Patricia King."
I HATE that name, and he knows it. Wait. Jake did all this, got dressed up, took hours, went out, like this?
"You go out as... Jackie?"
"All the time."
So all that embarrassment, all the fear, the butt-clenching terror, Jake experienced all that willingly?
"So you get dressed up, take hours, and you feel what I felt today? The fear, the..."
"Utter mortification? Yes, though it lessens a bit with time." Jake - Jackie - slumped onto the couch, staring at the rather well turned out Christmas tree.
I joined him, slumping myself. "To willingly go through that... you must feel pretty strongly about this. So, transgender, right? Why not tell me, ever? Why keep it a secret so long?"
Jackie muttered something about strength and turned to look me in the eye. "You, of all people, were the one person I couldn't tell. I hate to say this, but I'm closer to Chris. She knows everything; how I felt, How I feel now, the entire mess. she must have finally gotten sick of my bitching about the dates you kept setting up for me. Tell me, were there others involved in... this?"
Her gesture encompassed my clothes. "Yeah, a Sue, Laq, Melissa, and Judy."
"They helped me get started; taught me the things I needed to know, together with Chris. They are friends of mine, too. the fact that they were all there... well I'm not sure what it means, but it means something."
I looked down at the dress, and the way it was ballooned out. "You could have just told me to stop. I'd have listened if you had."
I was a bit hurt that he thought less of my friendship than my sister's, and maybe that bled into my voice a little.
Jackie sighed again. "You're not getting it. I could tell anyone, really. I could tell Chris, I could tell the dates you sent my way, that was easy. I couldn't... I just couldn't risk you.You're the one person I couldn't risk driving away."
And again, my best friend looked away to the Christmas tree, eyes shining in the lights. He, or she, looked so vulnerable.
I had to ask. "Why?"
"I said it before, so many times, in a thousand different little ways. But I just couldn't find the guts to say it outright. 'Let my wish come true - all I want for Christmas... is you.'"
404, brain not found. "What? You, and me? That way?"
Jake - Jackie - nodded. "It was hell to be with you, but it was even worse being apart. You're the only one I've felt this way about, you silly man-whore."
I reached over and poured us both a shot. I downed mine, and struggled out of my coat; it was getting terribly warm in here.
All this time.
"And Chris knew all this?"
Jackie, the unfortunately masculine looking woman, nodded. "Every bit of it. It might even be why she did this to you today. I have to admit that Patty is less intimidating than Payton is, to talk to. She seems to understand a bit better."
"Payton might have been fine at it if he had been given a chance."
"True. I'm sorry."
That tense, downtrodden, expectant face. I couldn't take it.
I needed a distraction. "What about John? The guy that you saw outside? He was 'escorting' me to make sure I didn't get lost. Is he one of the inner circle of Chris's?"
Jackie cocked her head. Some actions made her easier to see than others. "No, I've never seen him before. Just like you to bring home strays, though."
"Har har. Well, Chris is devious, so we'll just have to see."
How could I deal with this? My hand hit the earring box in my coat, and I knew.
"Look, I can't promise anything here, alright?"
Jackie's face crumbled in an instant, and tears flowed. "I understand."
Jeez, just once, someone needed to let me finish. "Not like that, idiot. I can't promise anything concrete, but I can promise I'll try, alright? I'll try and understand, and... be there for you. Okay?" I brought out the small box and held it out.
Jackie's squeal just about broke my ears. She crossed the couch in an instant and had me in a death grip I was sure would leave bruises. On instinct, I stiffened - but made the effort to relax.
"You know - you're pretty comfy when you're lumpy like this. Even if Patty isn't my type."
Jackie - or Jake in this moment, perhaps... was pretty strong for his size. With him on top of me like this, I couldn't move.
"Don't get too used to her, Patty is going away." I put my arms around my friend who wanted to be more. "She's only here for the night, then Payton comes to stay."
"In that case, we should memorialize the occasion!" Jackie lunged off me and to her phone.
I groaned, but I let her take them.
...Jackie...
It was after midnight, and now Christmas day. I looked at Payton, sleeping on my couch, drunk, and snapped another shot. He looked so cute like that! Life just wasn't fair. Since it was Christmas, I could safely open my present from Chris Payton had delivered. The other box, whatever it contained, could wait until Payton was awake.
It was an empty box with a flawless handwritten note.: "One perfect chance, all gift wrapped. Don't let it go to waste! Merry Christmas."
She couldn't hear me, but I had to say it. "Thank you, Chris."
Nagrij
This is a sandbox I've wanted to play in for quite awhile...but never has a story burned me so badly before; So, without further ado, my first story post anywhere.
Please be gentle, and forgive me if I screw something up somehow.
Anyway prologue first, and we will see how any reviews, formatting, or toe stepping goes.
Genetics has always been as much art as science, ask anyone. From the moment those special proteins gravitate
towards themselves, following a special recipe no mortalcan as yet, read, any organism subject to the vagaries of
such fate mutate. The truth is, not a single creature, plant, or even, yes, human...is the same as any other. Nor
are they the same as any other throughout all of history. There is always SOMETHING different from another;
perhaps a peptide regarding proper growth in regard to eyerods is stunted due to a minor mutation caused by
background radiation; resulting in an eye that might be a slightly different color than it would have been, and
slightly less useful nightvision than another person in the same family. Or an Rna sequence could be blanked in a
chromosome, causing the aspartate to be manufactured to a greateror lesser degree in the brain, and therefore
providing a case for how two different people in the same environment since birth, think differently in the first
place. Ack, I have a tendancy to ramble now; I'll try to watch that, sorry. My point was, genetics in particular
and science in general make no distinction; we are all mutants. Great (like that champion fellow perhaps, or that
guy that breathes fire in new york) or small (like you, having 'striking' eyes) the universe makes no
distinction, nor value judgements; despite this, the universe is a cold and dangerous place, in which certain
individuals have more of an edge in survival over those generally considered 'normal'. In the interest of
history, and with all due mental faculties bent toward impartiality, I will attempt to chronicle such general
mutations as I have encountered, and my own in particular; the purpose of the tale to point out all the
inconsistencies and fallacies inherent in the human condition, and to endeavor all mutants (for I reiterate, we
are ALL mutants) to understand that we are all one people, with the same emotional basis and thought template as
any other on this planet, and perhaps others.
OK, here we are again; except this time, I get to declaim!This is fiction, any similarities to any persons, places, thoughts, craziness or any other such things are purely coincidental; once again thanks to Erin for the remarkable restraint in putting up with what amounts to a crazy drunk banging on your front door, spouting half understood gibberish.
Beginnings are tricky things...even now, I can't be sure when it began. I know when I first noticed it of course, but when it first began? What if it was percolating days or weeks before? What if, the first sign I noticed was merely the end of the cascade of changes that began innocently and painlessly days, weeks or months before? Could better detection change the outcomes of myself and so many others with the same problems? Bah! Again my attention wanders, and the focus of thought is diffused into another of many prisms, to scatter like light through many colors and variations. I REALLY have to watch that.
At any rate, the beginning I noticed was a simple stumble, hardly a big indicator of what was on the way. Just a simple stumble while running during a baseball game, after I hit easy triple into left field. Not even enough to send me into the dirt, just enough to slow me a little and cause one of those 'what the hell?' moments, as it seemed as if I'd tripped on nothing at all. Not that I let it stop me of course. Sliding into home plate just to add a little insult to injury, I accepted all the high fives and fist bumps.
"Well done Myrc. We're in the playoffs now for sure!"
Yes, of course that's me, Myrcial; 5 ft 7 inches, 135 lbs of lanky muscular scot/irish american freight train, rolling over any and all competition. The name means mercy, and it's ironic, because I have absolutely none when someone tries to make fun of it. Being a 14 year old sports prodigy isn't always fun; I quickly check my phone and review my list of mental curses.
"Coach, can I miss the after game huddle? I'll be late if I don't hurry." Coach Reynolds, of course, grins, the sadist.
"Sure thing Myrc; tell Coach Howard hi from me." With a wave I start my hike from the baseball diamond to the gym; since my freshman year started, I was enrolled in both the
Paris public schools'(Go fighting weasels! Why weasels? no one knows.) baseball and basketball teams. In the matter of two short months, we'd gone from last in our division to
near the top, and most of it, I'm proud to say, was due to me. However, it was a lot of work and practices. Today it meant another hour on the court before I could do all the homework I needed to get out of the way.
Now as any athlete, good or not, can tell you; that much constant practice and work gives you a wonderful idea on how your body works. How fast you can move, how high you
can jump, how long you can run before shambling to a halt, gasping for air...all these are things an athlete, a true athlete, know. (For more on what is or isn't a true athlete, see bowling.) My work, my labor of love, was enough to tell me right away that I had a slight problem. A difference in how I walked, that hadn't been there as early as a half hour prior. There was no pain, no injury that I could tell, and yet, an ever so slight limp, a slight roll starting in my right hip. Perhaps not even enough to be noticeable...
and yet I noticed. With luck no one else would, I didn't need to be benched; I felt fine.
"Time for the second round already Myrc?"
My thoughts were interrupted by none other than Pamela Dale, about 5 foot 6 inches of sandy blonde blue eyed soft faced beauty with a come hither bed room voice, not that I noticed, no sir.She was also what passes for our head cheerleader. Of course she was practicing her tumbling in the grass, as always; she was as driven in her way, as I was in mine.
"Yep, and how are you on this fine day Pam?" I asked as I blew past her.
"Pretty good, the fall breeze is always amazing, until of course a sweaty jock comes near."
I laughed as I went in, shaking my head. guilty as charged of course. It was still too hot to do anything but sweat outside. Oh well, it'd cool off soon. Into the empty locker
room I went, taking a quick look in the mirror to see the flushed, not quite handsome, but far from horrid brown haired badass in the mirror. Sharp features, slightly hooked
nose (I broke it in a fight, and it never did heal right) light brown hair covering my overlarge ears (my worst feature).
Bout of vanity later, I was dressed in my basketball uniform of shorts and jersey, and baseball uniform stuffed into my book bag, dirtying my books where it belonged.
"Hey Coach H. So what'd I miss? Coach R sends his regards."
The ever portly ever grinning man turned to me and let loose on of his trademark laughs.
"Not much Myrc, just some shot practice. That will be most of our time, Shots and passes. Some people here need all the help they can get!" He winked at me.
"Yep that's me, my nickname should be slacker." I winked back.
Wasting no more time, I got to it. While I could pass and run with the best of them, I immediately noticed a drop to my shot...my arc was off by perhaps an inch. Not enough
to miss a ton, but enough to throw the shot off. I just as easily traced the problem back to my hip, messing with my jump. Luckily enough my favorite coach didn't seem to
notice, spending the time correcting the shooting of those less fortunate than me. A ball hurtled into my view from my left, one which I caught at the last second.
"Think fast!"
Ricky Tanner, arrogant jock cliche number one, (about my size, also brown haired, more muscular, and a bit better looking than myself) and also a good friend...when he's not
winging basketballs at my face, that is.
"You OK Myrc? you're zoning out."
"Yeah I'm fine, just have some heavy thoughts...like how you can't play baseball."
"Pfft, baseball is for losers anyway; basketball is where it's at. Now shoot that rock or admit I'm better."
"that'll be the day." I laughed as I sank an easy three pointer.
As all good things, practice came to an end. After a quick shower, with the usual jokes, innuendo, and towel snapping, it was homeward bound for me. The day was late, the sky clear with few of those white puffy clouds in it, the sun was shining, the day was almost perfect. If not for the fact that I couldn't seem to walk quite straight, I'd be enjoying myself immensely. But there it was, like a piece of broccoli in your teeth, or a pebble in your shoe. Sigh.
I crept through the door like a ninja, in a game as old as time. I made my way to the kitchen. And there she was, 5 ft 4 inches of classical aged beauty, Irish spitfire edition, eyes of jade, long hair the color of a moonless night, putting the finishing touches on a dinner of steak and potatoes, a Paige in the form of my 5 ft tall (don't tell me he wont be huge) 12 year old brother, cut from the same mold as myself (without the broken nose) and currently mashing said potatoes for easy consumption.
"Blargh!" I yelled, completing the game by making both my mother and brother jump a good foot in the air and scream in a most satisfying manner.
"evening mom, dinner smells great."
"Myrc, i swear...wipe that stupid grin off your face before I say something we'll both regret. How was the game and practice?"
Accepting the punch in the arm from my silent brother with another grin, I replied: "Oh, hit the game winning triple, qualifying us for the finals, and practice went well, Coach H didn't find anything to 'correct' (read yell loudly) me on."
"Good, good. How about that math test?" She half listened, spacing out. Sometimes I wish she'd care as much about my sports as my schoolwork. Maybe if I didn't suck so bad at
it? Who knows?
"Well, I got a C." I replied, hoping she wouldn't ask to see it, as I'd really gotten a C - ... not a lie, but not the whole truth either; both my parents would roast me alive
if I lied to them. Thankfully, even though she looked at me cross-eyed for a minute, she didn't.
"O.K, schoolwork then mister, I'll call you for dinner. And Myrcial; no need to rush...take it slow and steady."
"O.k. mom, slow and steady." I replied, heading up to my sanctuary from the world. Once there I of course, rolled my eyes and sat my books down next to the desk. I turned my
computer on with my foot before i even sat down, waiting for the best program ever invented to load...Itunes. Many people were put off by one fact about me, not believing a jock such as myself could love music the way I did. Music, any form, as long as it was original (none of that stupid pop or repetitive chest thumping rap crap), from classic to big band to death metal, I loved it all. Currently however, I was in the mood for some Cherry Popping Daddies, so I wasted no time bringing up that playlist. Yay, math
time. Finally wondrous wondrous math time. polynomials and basic algebra for the loss.
"Myrc, dinner time!" The call knocked me out of my daze. Those stupid number letter combinations were making my head swim; I mean seriously, who gives a crap what X was? It
was an X! Not a 4!...hey wait a min, was it 4? Nah couldn't be. I didn't even hear dad get home. Stupid homework.
"Coming mom!"
dinner was excellent of course, talk was sparse (my parents did not believe in small talk at the table until after eating) and knowing looks were exchanged with disgusting regularity. Finally done and fed up with it all, I responded.
"The game went well, practice was fine, and math still sucks."
My dad, laid back as ever, raised an eyebrow and said nothing; then when mom was turned away watching Ian stick his tongue out at me, he winked. In return i gave a quick grin.
We had done this dance before, my dad and I.
"Want me to help clean up mom?"
"No, you go back to your schoolwork, Ian will help me clean up."
"Lame ass jock! Always let off the hook cause hes stupid!"
"Ian Micheal Campbell! Language!"
"It's OK mom, you can' expect too much of the geek, hes full of the dork side, twisted and nerdy." If death glares were actually lethal I'd be dead twice over. I love my family!
Taking that as my cue, I headed back upstairs for another round, this time it was black sabbath and English, both slightly kinder subjects than math. Oddly enough, the paper I had to write on Macbeth was half done, and Macbeth himself was giving up his secrets a little easier tonight when it happened. Several drops of blood fell from my nose to the textbook I was using. Cursing and grabbing a tissue from my desk, I blotted it, then moved to my nose as a small stream of blood poured from both nostrils...what the hell?
The headache and fatigue hit suddenly, like a hammer between the eyes. I looked at the clock; just after 9pm. A bit of an early bedtime, but I was definitely done for the
night. I even half considered calling for mom or dad, after all, I'd had headaches before, but this was the first time I'd had both a headache and nosebleed. I wonder if my not healed right nose was acting up again, as it occasionally did. Bah, whatever, if it persists ill tell the 'rents, but no need to worry them over something minor just yet.
That thought was the last I had as my head hit the pillow.
And here we are, a bit later than I'd like. Now, in this episode, we answer the question: Do you even lift, bro?
Standard disclaimer rules apply. I don't really know you, nor do I know anyone you might know...so any similarity to such persons, alive or dead, fictional or not, are purely coincidental.
Thank you for all the feedback, I love you all, in a totally platonic way.
"To sleep, perchance to dream" Shakespeare states, in some play or another. And boy, did I dream. Unusually vivid, vaguely terrifying dreams with subjects I've never before considered, such as planets and wormholes and diffuse temporal gravities; I didn't even know what that last bit was! Yet somehow in the dream I did, and knew it to be dangerous. In my dreams I wore glasses, and droned on about such dry subjects to those people present, none of whom I recognized, while in the background a barycentric dual star wobbled its way on an eternal trek to who knew where.
Of course the sight was breathtaking, even as my droning was causing a certain amount of glassy eyed yawnitis among those present. Even knowing it was a dream, my breath was taken away momentarily as the 2 dwarfs started inhaling each other in a cannibalistic frenzy; large streamers of gases spewing from their paths like multi-hued confetti as the stars themselves inverted. The sight was almost enough to make me not notice that my voice had been different;and those I was lecturing to (another discrepency, as I don't really know enough about anything to lecture to anyone, excepting maybe baseball) towered over me like so many human giants.
But the weirdest part of the dream, was that I knew what would happen to the stars and the local galaxy...I knew it wasn't our galaxy, nor our stars, knew there was no life on any of the planets near, and knew what I was seeing; at the same time I knew I knew nothing of the temporal or quantum mechanics involved.
I had no idea what my dream was all about, it was way over my head.
At any rate, when my alarm went of promptly at 6:45am, I awakened feeling refreshed and happy; weird dream or no. I still had a bit of homework to do, but not much, and the headache was nothing but a memory. There was no blood on my pillow, so my nose hadn't bled. The sun was shining through my window, I could smell pancakes and sausage downstairs, and all was right with the world. by 7 I was downstairs, showered dressed and with books open at the table, putting the finishing touches on my English paper.
Of course the way I was stuffing myself with sausages was frowned upon, but nothing was said. Ian sat beside me, a book no one forced him to read in one hand, speared pancake in the other, silently whiling away the time till he was forced to go to school, like myself. I swear, such a geek sometimes; I loved him, but between the computers and books, he was bully fodder. At least he wasn't small or weak, while he preferred not to, he could defend himself. I shook my head, I always liked a good fight. Oh well, I had his back, like always.
This time It was my turn to do the dishes, but breakfast is always easy enough. The worst is always my dad's plate...he had a tendency to use an entire bottle of syrup for his pancakes (yech!) and it always took a year to get the plate clean.
"So no practices today Myrc?"
"No dad, nothing but a little weight training, optional stuff. Can't practice too much or we'll all be sidelined."
I winced, that thought bringing up my balance issues from yesterday; Hope that crap was over with.
"Good point. So... eat enough? between you and Ian, I'm thinking I'll need a mortgage on the house to be able to pay for the food!"
I rolled my eyes, catching Ian doing the same. "Please, like we can keep up with you."
"Another good point.' mom chimed in, 'but heaven help us all, you might both be having growth spurts at the same time. Two Campbell men, hungry and growing, let loose upon the grocer community!"
I watched amused as my father tried to act like Godzilla, stomping around the house...he could almost pull it off.
"Later family, time for the mind numbing school experience."
I ran out before my dad could start in on the Rodan impression; parents are more than a bit embarrassing at times.
I ran into Ricky dribbling a basketball down the street while walking to school; we both live somewhat close to school, and each other (a good pick up game was only a street away!).
"Hey man! Take a break, and tell me what you did for English." I was hoping, just this once, to find company in misery; he was almost as bad as I was.
"Screw that dude, tell me if you managed to score that new Avenged Sevenfold album; that first release sounds amazing."
"Heh; it's not new, it's a year old, and that's the third release from the album. But yeah I haven't burned you a copy yet; I was too busy with the stupid Macbeth paper Mrs. Holmes wanted; I'll do it later today. But...I do come bearing rumors! that rumorhasit guy stated that Avenged Sevenfold is almost done with their self titled album, and that it will be glorious."
"Niiiice, will you get me that one too? You know you're more up on the music scene than I am."
"Yeah yeah, soon as it comes out, I'll get it, you know me. Can't wait around or it'll get moldy. So anyway, English...Macbeth? what was your paper on?"
"you're that curious?' Ricky responded with a laugh, 'I'll have you know my paper was on how smokin hot Lady Macbeth had to be to get the dude to keep killing everyone he cared about."
"You can't be serious; Mrs. Holmes is going to fail you if you keep doing stuff like that you know."
"Hey I'll have you know it was well thought out. And if you're going to be a critic, what was yours on?"
"Mine was on how his psychological demons and impatience led to not only a disaster, but the worst form of wish fulfillment Macbeth could ever get. How Macbeth couldn't stop his own descent into madness because he couldn't take a step back and recognize the form his insanity took."
"...whoa man, deep...you win, you'll get an A for sure this time!"
I blinked. yeah I would, wouldn't I?
The first class of the day was science, otherwise known as physics 101 and a good way to set the tone for the sleep fest that was next class, or algebra 101. I shared both classes with Ricky and a few others from the team I wasn't as close to; as well as Ricky's arch nemesis and resident school villain, Gordo. Now while I have no problem with Gordon Thompson, who was nicknamed 'flash' because of some obscure movie or other, from what I understand.
He was actually a tight end known for being a bulldozer on the field...and for hating my best buddy.
Nearly 200 lbs of corn fed blonde haired blue eyed Aryan poster child, running over all opposition. I was perfectly willing to live and let live myself, but due to Ricky's loathing of football players in general and Gordon in particular for some middle school slight that I chose not to remember, we got into the occasional fight or two. In fact, it was Gordo who broke my nose...twice. I did not hold this against him, but Ricky oddly enough, despite getting me into those fights in the first place, did. He had a long list of things tohate Gordo for...I saw it once.
"Hey fatass, move, you're hogging up all the air." Smooth, Ricky. I will state again for the record, there is absolutely no evidence of fat on Gordo.
"Gordon, how are you today?" Civility, to hopefully stop this from getting out of hand; almost no chance, with Ricky walking right up to Gordon (who was actually out of the
way, at the lab table near the wall) and trying to pick a fight. But stranger things have happened.
"Pretty good Pansy, want to get dicky out of here before I destroy him?" Well, there went that plan. Almost guaranteed to have fireworks later in the day now.
"Just leaving, Gordo, need to inform the zoo about the escaped gorilla that made it's way to science class. Later."
Once we were out of range, I let Ricky (who was, oddly enough, my lab partner...go figure)have it: "What the hell, man, cant you put that feud on a slow boil or something? Now hes going to make trouble for us by the end of the day, you know it."
"bah, let him try, I'll kick his ass."
"Except last time he almost had you dead till I helped...and it took us both to put him down,"
"Then it's a good thing there are two of us, huh?"
My grin matched his: "whatever...just don't see why you have to antagonize him so much; seriously, what did he do to you that was that bad?"
"You want to see the list again?"
"oh heck no."
"Mr Tanner, Mr Campbell, would you two like some alone time to discuss your issues? Like say, after class in detention?"
"No thank you sir, we're good."
"So I can start class now?"
"Sure thing, Sir."
"Thank you. So today class, it's time to start a week long project...I want kites made of homemade materials, no store bought items except the string, which I will provide. If it flies, you get an A; if not you fail. Time to learn about how birds, bats, and planes defy gravity, as stated on pages 111 through 154 in our texts."
After a hearty class of Reading and passing notes filled with jokes to each other, and of course as little real work as we could get away with, it was time for that boring hell known as math. It was located in the classroom just down the hall, which made it fairly convenient to get to, and if you planned right, you didn't even need to go to your locker after physics.
Luckily, my desk for this hell was clear in the back, where our beloved Mr. Mullins of the droning voice couldn't see me sleep unless he actually wanted to, which was a rare occurrence. Unfortunately, Ricky was halfway across the classroom, and Pam was a few chairs down. I was stuck next to a guy known as Rolph. Now Ralph was a good guy. He just happened to be a mutant. He was pretty obviously one, having orange dayglo hair and being just a bit stronger than us normal guys; but judging by the fact that he was still here and not out playing super hero or villain, or not taken by the gestapo loving mutant commission office (MCO for short), he was doubly out of luck; a mutant, but not one with powers, he got the best of mutant hatred and none of the benefits being a mutant could offer.
I knew him before the change, as we both grew up here, before and after. He was an OK guy, but a little bitter since his change, and I didn't blame him. I always made a point not to mention his hair (the reason for his new nickname) and call him by name. He had it bad enough as it was.
"hey Ralph, what'd you have down for question 6?"
"keep it down,' he said, eyes ahead on our tormentor. 'I had 4. Why?"
Sonofa...if Ralph said it, it was likely true. "It really was 4 then? weird. I got it right."
He glanced at me, then turned and looked, really looked. "Yeah,' he replied in a weird tone of voice ' you got it right."
That...was plain creepy. After giving him a return 'wth?' look, I started paying attention to Mr. Mullins droning while graphing some polynomials. X = 2, X = -3, etc, etc.
Boring.
"Dude, wake up. seriously."
"Huh? Oh, thanks Ralph. I owe you one." Again with that look of his.
"No problem man, just try not to fall asleep in class."
Oh well, off to the next trip into dreamland, Geography, where we learn of places that either won't exist in a week, or shouldn't exist at all. Wheeeeee. While dropping off my books, I took my usual furtive glance around the zoo/prison...nothing too dangerous in sight (like one blond gorilla). Lots of bright plumage and petting at this zoo. (Guys and gals going making out like weasels in heat..wonder if that's why we have our name?)Oh well, on to learning about France. I wonder if Mrs. Carson would just let me be 'sick'? I mean, it's France!
She didn't go for it.
fourth class, my favorite, though one I don't share with too many of my friends...gym. Coach Howard was in charge of my hour of gym, and he usually just let me shoot hoops-
which might explain why my shot percentage is as good as it is (57%) in our games. It's not practice...really! Just shooting.
"Hey Myrc, up for a game of horse? Coach already said OK."
"Sure Bernie, just let me warm up a bit."
Bernard 'monty' McGowan, my basketball teams power forward; I didn't hate him, but didn't exactly like him either, he was a bit of a general hating jerk; Muslims, Arabs, mutants, you name it, he hated. apparently not the Irish though. Too bad there were no rules about being a jerk on the team, but I'd been 'ordered' to get along with him, so I would.
Several games of horse later (what can I say? It was fun!) with my awesome self winning all but once, showers were hit. Ralph walked in to to change; being a mutant he wasn't allowed to compete in sports, so he usually just picked something solo to do; Coach let him get away with it. Today his choice was to run around the track, searching for the elusive 4 minute mile. A decision I can agree with, if I could have gotten away with it...it was a nice day. But, as always and with a saddening regularity (I swear you could set your Ipod by it!)
the words started.
"Hey rolph, quick put a bag over that hair, my breakfast is coming up!" Bernard shouted, shoving Ralph into a shower stall door. Ralph just looked at the stall, saw it was empty, and went in to shower.
"What the hell man...do that again, and we will have a nice long private discussion. Get me?"
He looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "You like that creep?"
"I like tolerance, and you staying on the team. Make no mistake, I won't start any fight. But I will end one, every single time."
I really hoped sometimes, that most teens weren't like I'd been seeing since starting high school; it was beginning to test my faith in human nature. Nothing but judgmental hypercritical crap, with round pegs getting hammered into square holes till they fit...I really hope that it gets better out of high school, at least. I'd already fought several rumors regarding myself, not the least of which was that supposedly I was gay. (I wasn't of course, just a closet romantic.) The best way to fight rumors of course, is to ignore them when able, and bury fools who tried to tease you over it, hence my 'end all fights' creed.
"OK man, relax.It's chill."
He turned to Ralph, uttered a completely insincere apology and walked out, shooting me a glance on his way out the door. I waited till he left, shot Ralph a victory sign as I walked by. He in return gave me that stare again. Creepy. Speaking of gay, maybe he was...meh whatever, no business of mine, after all he can look, but not touch. If anyone only Pamela or Chrissy get this sexy package! Well, maybe Monica...but first lunchtime! Feeding time at the zoo.
First time I've actually been hungry for cafeteria food. I swear, this strange stuff that i could swear was growing, or moving, or worse...never looked so good. So grabbing my share of it, I quickly settled to my usual table. I was last to join as always; Ricky, Bill, Rich...pretty much the entire basketball team was here, with the baseball team right next to our table, and cheerleaders and assorted other popular types on the other side. Yes, I was one of the 'in crowd', whatever that meant.
"So mystery meat that looks kind of like chicken nuggets, green crap that might be the so called 'vegetable medley' and mashed potatoes. 5 bucks says I don't barf it up."
"I'd take that bet, but I feel you're suckering me."
"Oh I am, Rich. Stomach of cast iron! I only fear corrosion."
"Corro-wha?"
"Corrosion! Otherwise known as rust."
"you can eat that crap man? I think it moved."
"Unless you want to trade your lunch of the inevitable pbj Ricky, yes, I do intend to eat this crap. Pretty hungry today."
"So how was gym? Still pissed we aren't together for that, I have to deal with some upper class-geeks and Gordo, and the only thing they ever want to do is play dodge ball."
"Heh. It was OK, till Monty stepped out of line, where is that...oh. he's hiding over there."
"What did he do now?" Bill chimed in. He fancied himself our on court team leader (which was ironic, cause no one really listened to him on the court, or at least I didn't).
"Oh was just harassing Ralph, which is stupid, cause Ralph is pretty tough. Pissing him off is like asking Gordo to a dance or three." Ricky glared at me a second, then grinned.
"And I bet you just had to step in, right?"
"Yeah you know me, always looking for a reason with some people." He snickered.
Turning, I addressed the baseball team. "So, first game of the rest of our winning season is tomorrow! You guys up for it?"
Amidst assorted cheers, I caught sight of Gordon, leading the football team like so many baby ducks to their table by the window. I waved, and he scowled. Damn, still angry about this morning I guess. Catching his eye again, I shrugged. Hurray for non verbal communication! He nodded, message received. Eating, I let the conversation flow around me, not taking part. I finished just as the bell sounded (did I mention how much I hate that noise yet? If not, consider it mentioned). Almost done with the day, only two more hours in hell, then a bit after in purgatory. And this hour, was the hour I do most of my homework, so I don't have to later. Study Hall, win win for me.
The zookeeper for our study hall was Mr. Mullins, of the droning voice and boring numbers. This situation did make it easier to get a hold of him for math help, but seeing as how he couldn't explain anything at all, it was a double edged sword at best. Besides, only the truly evil teachers assigned homework on Fridays anyway. So his was the text I opened, ready for more polynomial action to work it's sleeping magic.
Except something was wrong. Very wrong. Instead of seeing the numbers crawl across the page in their usual slow march...they danced. They danced, spun, skipped, cavorted, flying across the page with reckless abandon, whispering their universal constant secrets to me. There was something graceful and timeless in their movements as they interacted with each other. I shook my head, that couldn't be right! Numbers couldn't be cool, or make perfect sense, I couldn't have...finished reading the textbook, cover to cover?
I looked again in disbelief. In 40 minutes I had done my homework for algebra, then proceeded to read my textbook...all of it. Like a daydream, I had only the fuzziest memory of what it said...but I did remember it, might even remember it all. And there, between pages 64 and 71, were several drops, almost a small pool, of drying blood soaking into the pages. As if I hadn't even felt the nose bleed and simply read on in a haze. Which come to think of it, I had.
What. The. Hell.
I was losing my mind somehow.
The bell ringing broke me from some very unpleasant thoughts. Last class then out, Then I'd get some help for this, and hopefully not get committed for being crazy or something. Of course, I forgot my English text, then had to run to get it before the bell rang. As I was running, I noticed the limp I'd had the day before was more pronounced now, I almost swayed as I moved! Weird, and still no pain. Yet...another...something. I don't know, had a thought and lost it...hate when that happens. Oh well, at least I'm not late for English. And my paper might get an A! An almost unprecedented event.
It didn't take long for me to gain some notice from Mrs. Holmes; mainly due to the fact that I actually participated in class. Macbeth is actually a fascinating character once you think about it; such an honorable man led to an ignoble end from his own ambition, woven into a trap of evil of his own making. She seemed impressed. Told me I was wrong, but seemed impressed all the same. But like a dream almost, it ended, and it was time to collect Ricky and head to the weight room for some lifting.
Good jocks, regardless of the sport they play, always lift a little. It adds strength and stamina, and done right, won't decrease speed or agility. The key is to work the right muscle groups. for basketball and baseball both, I needed arm strength, which was why I was focusing on my arms and shoulders today, with Ricky as my spotter. Then we would trade off. A light workout, twice a week, once for arms and shoulders and second for legs, had done wonders for me since I started this last summer. So back into the gym clothes and away we went. Of course, the weight room at school was also the domain of the football team.
The trick to surviving in a zoo, or a prison for that matter, is simple; never smell of fear.
"So ready to help me break 120 today?"
"Sure,' Ricky replied. "You ready to help me break 140 today?" I rolled my eyes.
"If you do that, you're going to need a different spotter. Should I call for Gordon?"
That earned a punch in the arm, and rightly so. It started as soon as we walked past the gym into the weight room.
"So, you two decided to show up here, huh? Sure are brave."
"Gordon, please give it a rest; we aren't here for you."
"Yeah Gordo, just go away and play with your knee pads or something." Oh hell, tell me he did not just say that.Judging by Gordon's red face, he had. Well, here we go...
"Flash! get out here, Coach Reynolds says scrimmage in 10!"
"OK Coach H, just leaving."
I felt cheated. I mean sure, this is why we picked just after school to use the weight room, but we had a good fight brewing!
"You two going to be OK in here? need any help?"
"No sir, we got it, thanks."
"OK, yell if you need anything. And Ricky...you shouldn't bait the bear, son."
"Yes coach H, sorry coach H."
Coach Howard looked at us both before sighing and leaving the room. I kind of understood how he felt, but at the same time, that was a good fight we had brewing! Soon the happy thoughts of a good scrap were sidelined by something else though. As Ricky was setting up the CD player (inspirational music is a MUST)I set the weight and experimented.
"Ricky, double check this for me." He looked at me oddly.
"It's right man, 110. Having trouble?"
"Wipe that smirk off your face, just wasn't set right I guess. And yes, I know I'm supposed to wait for you; since when has that ever stopped me, wise guy?"
"It's OK man, you can cuss, it's just us here."
"You know I don't like to do that," I set myself correctly on the bench. 'Though I might have to...did Gordo mess with the weights?"
"Move, let me try."
He lifted it easily, no strain on his face at all. What the crap was going on? I've been able to lift 110 for months with no real problem; I thought i was ready to try 120
today.
"I don't know man, if anything it feels light. Seems fine. Try again?"
"Darn right I'm trying again, showoff!"
I once again positioned myself under the bar, make absolutely sure I was set correctly and...nothing. I couldn't even budge it.
"Okay, I'm confused."
"Hold on a sec man, let me try something; just walk over there a minute; no peeking."
"Whatever." I went where directed and once I was sure he wasn't looking, checked my arm; did my biceps seem smaller...?
"OK man, try this."
I went back to the bar, positioned, and tried. This time with effort I was able to get the weights off the bench and press them, with effort. It was pretty obvious what he'd done.
"How light did you make it?"
"70 pounds."
"70...!' I put the bar back, and began some of the best curses in Gaelic that I knew 'what the hell is going on here? i was at 110 just last week!"
"You feel OK man?"
"Yeah that's the odd thing, I feel fine. No pain, no feeling of something torn, not feeling sick."
"Well I think it's safe to say something is wrong, and you should see a doctor pronto."
"Yeah, safe to say I can't spot you anymore; I'll see if the 'rents can get me in to see Dr. Halleck."
"Sure you'd rather not just go to Logan? I mean Dr. Halleck is just a small town G.P. when you get down to it, used as a sports doc or no."
"Who would know more about some type of sports related injury? Dr. Halleck or some fresh college grad?"
"Good point, So you're sure it's sports related?"
"No, but what else could it be? if it was a disease pretty sure I wouldn't be suffering alone. Ah screw it, just wear the gym clothes home; they need washed anyway."
"Dang you're full of good ideas today, why waste the time, right?"
"Right."
We split up with one block to go, the friendly banter almost driving the whole weight problem from my mind. Almost.
"Hi mom!"
"Hi Myrc, how was school?"
"Good except I think I'm sick or something. I couldn't lift today for some reason."
"Pulled muscles?"
"Maybe, but I kinda doubt it, not feeling any pain."
"Hmm.' She turned from dinner (a rather tasty looking lasagna)to look at me. 'Dr. Halleck?"
"Yes please."
"Consider it done. Monday is likely the earliest He will be able to work you in; you feel well enough to play tomorrow?"
"Quit with the googly eyes mom, I feel fine! this is more to figure out if my arms are going to fall off or something. And unless that happens tomorrow, I'm playing."
She looked at me a bit oddly but relented; "As long as you don't strain yourself fine...but any hints of injury and I'm pulling the plug."
"Done. need help with dinner?"
"No, you need to do your schoolwork. Go."
Thus banished, I retreated to my room, and brought out my books. Hmm, that was odd, my math homework was finished. Must have done it in study hall. Score! Meant the only thing I had to do was read a chapter in geography, all weekend. Some people double check their work; they are called wusses. Hmm, if I do it now, I won't have to look at a book all weekend!
Dinner was a slightly strained affair, I'm guessing mom told dad that I might be sick, and dad didn't want to jinx it; he didn't say anything, but spent his time staring at
me. by the time dinner was over I'd had enough.
"I'm fine dad, really."
"Homework mister, and after that take it easy. Don't leave the house, and call if you need me."
"OK mom, sheesh...not a baby anymore.' She pointed. 'Yeah yeah, I'm going, I'm going. Guess Ian gets dinner dishes again."
He glared death at me; I'd no doubt interrupted his halo 2 time or whatever.
Once back in my room and relatively safe from death glares, I realized something; I'd read the entire Geography chapter already. Shrugging, I figured it was therefore time to follow mom's last order and "take it easy". Unused to having time on my hands, I decided to simply search the web, looking at stupid stuff like cat pictures or silly videos.
The first thing I hit upon was some YouTube video with some weird robot...
Here we are again. I disclaim of course, and I think you all for your patience.
Now in this installment, we answer those burning questions...about baseball.
This time, I woke to what appeared to be a darkened airplane hangar or warehouse, some large building that I couldn't see the walls of. Inhabited by many shadows, all with yellow hardhats on top of their silhouettes. Oh, I'm dreaming again. Off in distance, the shadows were constructing something; they looked to be taking large boxes from one tarped..building? It looked tall enough...and carrying the items to another cloaking thing and plugging them in or stacking them. I watched for a moment, amused. I have been having the weirdest dreams lately....
"Hey you! Yeah, you!" A female silhouette with a dark red hard hat walked up to me; I couldn't tell anything else other than her gender, and that she was about my size, just a bit smaller once she got close enough. She spoke in an over the top 'joisey' accent that couldn't be real, and wasn't, of course.
"You the boss?' She asked loudly, and I got the distinct impression of a gimlet stare. 'Yeah that's you, you're the client. Well come on, come on, I may got to give you the tour, but I don't got to take all day at it."
Still a bit bemused, I followed her as she led the way closer to tall shapes. She led the way to a table just in front of them, pointing to a set of architects' blueprints laying on a carpenters' table. Depicted on the blueprints were two forms, also silhouettes. One tall, one small with curves like my weird foreman..? Foreperson? Forething?
"So here we are, as you can see we've had to do some on site modifications to make our deadline and keep budget. All OSHA certified of course, completely safe! Absolutely. The power plant is in' She pointed to the smaller figures' head. 'and showing almost 40% capacity already. That's good. On the other hand, the bundles here aren't fully moved yet. We're a bit behind on those." She was pointing at the larger figures' arms and legs.
That got my attention.
"You have questions? One second; hey, you! dummy!' she pointed at on of the workers. 'Not that one, the other one! you don't pull the right one, he feels all the pain in the lower right quadrant! You want him sidelined for the big game?!?"
The worker, which somehow managed to look sheepish despite having no face, went back to pulling out a box to the right of the one he was pulling out before.
"don't worry, they aren't all as stupid as this mook; we have you covered. So, your questions?"
"What is going on here, exactly?"
She cocked her head. "Really? You don't know? Why renovations of course, got the plans from the chief architect itself! Got to follow them, bad things will happen if we don't. It's OK though, don't worry, it knows what it's doing...mostly."
"Why does this fail to reassure me? OK I'll bite, what does the finished product look like?"
"Ah, a great question; the answer is, no one knows, not even the chief architect. It won't look bad though, I've seen the plans!" She gestured to the table behind her. As soon as I was distracted looking that way she muttered something.
"What was that?"
"I said, that there might be a few minor performance glitches. You have good ears."
"What kind of performance issues?" She put her hands behind her back and whistled in a classic pose that spoke of a child getting her hand caught in a cookie jar.
"Don't worry, don't worry! Me and the boys already worked out a good fix for most of it, and OSHA certified, just like I promised! we're good like that, and after all, the power plant is nearing 40% capacity! That's really really good, it insures our fix will work Well...mostly. One second: You!, Yeah you, sweep this trash up! these bone fragments are everywhere, and a hazard! Someone could trip! OK, you were saying?"
"I think I need to talk to this chief architect of yours; know where 'it' is?"
"It's around; you sure you want to talk to it? it's a really unreasonable sort of thing."
"Yeah I'm sure; I'd rather avoid any performance issues if I could."
"OK, well don't say I didn't warn ya; just look behind you."
Like a moron, I looked, and there it was, the largest blue and pink Watson and Crick double helix ever. But alive, as if Godzilla were a living tentacled mass of D.N.A. And
on top of this squirming cyclopean mass...a huge maw with shard like teeth. My 'foreperson' and I shared a long look.
"What? I didn't make it that way."
Then of course it grabbed me and started to pull, hauling me towards it's stupid looking mouth. Panic only barely begins to describe what I felt that moment.
"Myrc, look at me! Focus!' All trace of her ridiculous accent was gone as I struggled, in it's place was a slightly harried but soothing tone one might use on colicky children.
'you can't stop it, neither of us can...but it doesn't have to be bad; I promise you, it can all work out! so just calm down, relax, and take each day as it comes, OK? Please?
Can you..."
Then the maw swallowed me whole, and I knew no more.
Till I woke up of course, an unreleased scream on my lips and the remains of panic in my heart. Glad I held it in; screaming at the top of my lungs would have been pretty embarrassing. It was...morning? The sunlight shining through my window certainly seemed to announce that with finality. Last I remember it was just after dinner, and I was messing around on my computer...but my computer was powered down and all my books were stowed. I was out of my gym clothes and in pajamas, and the only thin I remember about the intervening time was a strangely compelling dream which was even now fading. Something about New Jersey...heck no wonder it was a nightmare!
So, almost nine, the wonderful smell of homemade waffles in the air, and only a few wispy clouds on game day. Not bad at all. Unfortunately I ruined it by moving. My limp had settled itself, I noticed right away...by one hip deciding the other had the right idea; now both were acting the same, forcing me to swing my hips to walk at all. Moving to the bathroom was another mistake, as one look in the mirror convinced me my nose had shrank...but at least it no longer looked broken. Very straight, very small, with one of those little upturns at the end. Something else was wrong with my face, but I couldn't pin it down. At least I still looked mostly like myself. After a quick awkward shower where I stared anywhere but down at myself while I soaped up and rinsed off (and hoped this wouldn't become a trend) And I was out, where I noticed the third and fourth major
difference.
Toweling off actually hurt. And not a little hurt either, but a nice solid chafing that throbbed. Secondly my uniform, my beloved uniform, no longer fit. I could barely pull the pants over my apparently now huge butt, and the cuffs were now too long. The shirt mostly fit, but of course it itched terribly all over my torso, and the sleeves had too much length. Just perfect...I was losing size too, somehow, yet getting fatter? I stepped on mom's scale (a leftover from her diet days, when she had us loving kids and dieted to lose excess weight) and I weighed in at 120 pounds. Again...what the hell?
Even the faded dirt and grass stains were in the wrong places...let's see, about an inch here, and maybe 2 inches there, and the shirt seemed longer...Reviewing my cussing lessons in my head again, I decided that de nile was more than a river in Egypt, and if I didn't see it yet, no one else would. Perfect way to deal with the fact that I was becoming a large carnivorous DNA worm thing, at least for today.
Thus bolstered, I walked bold as brass downstairs.
"Morning mom!" Great, another shock, though this one was more mild and less mental health threatening; my voice, never the strongest under the best of circumstances, barely responded at all, as a rather wispy whisper. Odd, out of all the things happening today, my throat felt the least treacherous. Stupid body, turning into a mutant worm. Stupid me, for thinking up the mutant worm thing...where had that even come from?!?
"How are you honey? You OK, you look...different. And awful. I think a visit to the E.R. might be in your near future."
"honestly I feel fine. I think I know what's wrong with me, and I don't think it's anything that the E.R can help."
And just like that, she was in my face, concern etching her face, making her look much older suddenly.
"What do you think it is?"
"Are dad and Ian up? I don't want to have to say this twice. I don't think there is any cause for your alarm though; I don't think its any life threatening disease or anything."
"whats a disease?" Dad asked, walking in from the garage, Ian in tow.
"Oh,' I replied while snagging a plate and piling it full of waffles. 'I think I'm a mutant with G.S.D., and I'm busy changing at the moment."
"..."
Great, I had them speechless. then all at once, the dam broke.
"Cool! Can you do anything amazing yet?" Ian.
"Are you sure?" Mom.
"Well, you do look a mite..different. Dad.
"Different? he looks like he shrunk!" Thank you, Ian.
I held up a hand. "It's kind of easy to explain why I think I'm a mutant, but it all boils down to what Ian said; what other kind of body problem leads to a loss of height in just a few days? If you'll all look, its pretty obvious." And it was...to prove it, I moved next to my mother; we were staring each other in the eyes, something that was impossible less than a week before.
"Yes I see it now...and you look a mite more like your mom than you used to. And have a lot less of my own distinctive good looks."
"Are there midget mutants?"
"Get bent Ian. Seriously."
"So why do you think you have G.S.D.?"
"What is G.S.D.?"
"Gross structural deformity; a polite way of saying you now look like a freak of nature. And it's the only thing I can think of that explains massive body change; Most mutants
don't change much at all."
"Well to be fair, I don't think that structurally you have changed all that much; you could be done."
"Mom, I don't look that different to you? You think shrinking and getting fat are valid mutant powers? Are you smoking pot again?"
"You promised never to bring that up again. I'll forgive you this once, but another mention gets you grounded."
"Hmm, come to think of it, this might explain the mess in the garage. I thought Ian did it, making those derby cars of his."
"A mess in the garage? I don't think Ive been in there since last Monday, when I mowed. We got time, I want to see." I carried the plate out with me, chewing all the while,
almost daring mom to get mad...she gave me a look, but let it slide. At least, I thought she had.
"You said something about getting fat? Do you think you should be eating like that if you are?" she whispered, a fact which I was thankful for.
"I can't help it, I'm really hungry...and my waist shrank a bit I think, but check out my butt. It's huge...I really hope I'm not going to sprout a second set of legs or something."
She checked, and poked. Dad and Ian did not notice.
"Mom! What the hell!" I hissed.
"I don't think you'll have to worry about a second set of legs." she said, giving me another good once over. I was getting really sick of all those stares. But I knew they were likely just beginning. Sigh, Ralph, and me.
Then I caught sight of the garage.
"What hit this place?"
The entire space was filled with tools discarded haphazardly, little scraps of wood and metal (none bigger than a dime) and a workbench loaded with papers...schematics. It looked like dozens of them. I didn't want to admit it, in the face of my dads' displeasure, but at least a few of them looked slightly familiar. He looked at me and asked, though.
"Well?"
"I'm sorry sir, I think I might have...but I don't remember it."
"Well son, I'm not mad, yet, but I'd really like to know what required the motors out of half my power tools, a stack of my power tool batteries, and half the engine from my
project car...and where all the missing stuff is."
"...What?" I looked again...most of his Black and Decker power tools were in fact stripped, the lithium ion batteries missing...and my dads project car (an 1973 barracuda, black) looked like gremlins had torn apart the engine, throwing pieces as far as five feet away carelessly.
"I'm sorry sir,' I tried again...'but I really don't know what happened here, I can't remember. I'll try to fix or replace what I can, as soon as I can. I promise."
His gaze swept past me a second, then back and softened.
"OK son, I believe you. You will however, put everything back, and replace what you can, as you promised."
"My brother, the mutant mess maker" Ian snickered.
"Laugh it up, ass. I can still take you."
"Language Myrc; and Ian, be more considerate please. Your brother is going through a rough time."
"Yes mom." we chorused.
"Alright, you can go to this game, but afterwards you clean this up and take an inventory of what's missing to start. I'll call Dr. Halleck and see if we can get him to make a
house call."
"Thank you sir."
"Come on Myrc, I know a few tricks that will make your changes a bit less noticeable,"
I followed her out. "Is it really that noticeable?"
"To someone who doesn't know you? No...To someone like us or Ricky, or your class? I'd say absolutely. Don't worry about it, we can make you look enough like you for there to
be no problems; with a little work people will know something is different, but not what."
"Best I can hope for I guess. Mom you ever know any mutants?"
"No Myrc, I haven't; you'll be my first."
I looked into her sunny smile a minute before it hit...then I could feel myself grin back, just a little. She ruffled my hair, something she hadn't done for years; since she had
to reach up to do so. Then she stopped, almost forcing me to run into her.
"What? something else happen?"
"No, no, don't panic...nothing new is going on; just old habits coming to the fore."
"It's OK mom, felt kinda nice."
She shook her head, taking me into the master bedroom, otherwise known as 'where kids dare not tread'. I gave her a look as she plunked me down on her chair in front of her
vanity.
"No arguments, sit, and watch."
And under her gentle hands, now no smaller than my own somehow, my old face was reconstructed. She put the break back in my nose, and it looked a bit larger. She also did something that added volume to my chin, and something to my cheekbones. Through all of this, I watched, fighting a wave of the most intense boredom I'd ever known. It was like sitting in class, or playing a computer game times one hundred, and came on suddenly; one minute I was enjoying my mothers' company and love, the next I was fidgeting like
an ant on sun drenched concrete.
"Myrc."
"Sorry mom, you say something?"
"You zoned out for a bit there, something wrong?"
"No! No, just really, um...."
I looked down at my hand, realizing something was in it. Mom's blush. My other hand held her lipstick. I put them back so quickly they rolled all the way to the mirror.
"What were you going to do with those, hmm?"
"I, uhh, don't really know? I was thinking of extracting the talc to do something with it..."
"Myrc, do me a favor. Don't 'extract' my make up, OK? Some of it is specially made."
"OK mom, sorry, I don't know what came over me."
"It's OK honey, you didn't do anything wrong...yet. Just trying to make sure that you understand the action would be a bad one; you've already angered your father. You broke his third child!"
I laughed, then blinked. Honey? where had that come from? She always just called me by my name (well, nickname) before...
"Come on, time to go down and greet your public."
"Sure."
I let her take the lead, kind of nervous; I'd never worn make up of any kind before, I was half convinced I'd look stupid. I mean, what if someone noticed? Those fears were soon proved groundless, however.
"Whoa bro, looking ugly as always...can't tell a thing!"
I looked between Ian and my father, searching their eyes for any hint of deception. I saw none.
"It really looks fine? Like I'm normal?"
"You look like you, Myrciel...and no talk of not being normal. Mutants are fairly normal anymore, after all; remember that fracas over the summer?"
"Yeah I remember." It was true, in the days of my fathers' youth, mutants or super powered beings of any kind, really, were far less common than now. Not that they were common, but certainly more common and well known then the 'dark ages'. Perhaps even common enough for some acceptance.
Then I remembered Ralph. Here, yet not here, in a perpetual limbo. Distant, with only one person I knew that treated him with anything resembling respect or equanimity; myself. Well maybe his family too, I didn't know. Not all families were as understanding as mine was after all; even now I could read the concern in their postures, though nothing but love and support shone from their faces. That very moment I determined to find out more about Ralph's life; to see if he had the kind of help he needed, the kind I was sure I already had. Then I frowned again. They knew, like I did, that whether I was a mutant or had some horrid disease (or both, another possibility) that this would be my last game; I'd never be allowed to compete if I were a mutant. And if I had some weird disease we'd never heard of, well chances are I'd die from it.
There, I said it. Denial over, hopefully never to return. Focus on the positives, as my father would say. My family was also placing worry aside, in order to make this day special for me; who really could ask for more?
These thoughts loaded my mind as we wordlessly and without further ado piled into mom's car (she had the wonderful 2001 black dodge Durango, while dad was stuck with the white ford focus)and we drove the admittedly short distance to the baseball diamond behind our school. We arrived with a mere 10 minutes to get ready; apparently the make up took longer than I thought.
Looking around, it seemed that everyone was here; the entire school (most of which I recognized) some of the other schools' children, checking out the competition I'd guess. Parents and kids of all ages, walking, jumping, and running around with abandon, enjoying the balmy day and the prospect of a day spent not doing
anything in particular. None of them seemed to pay any special attention to me, for which I was grateful.
The true test however, was coming up.
"Hey Myrc, was beginning to worry!"
"Ha, sick but wouldn't miss this for the world Joey."
"Dang right you are man, can't hear you at all, what happened to your voice? laryngitis?" I nodded, not like it's a lie, for all I know it could be true!
I made it into the team huddle, and nodded to coach Reynolds. He took one look at me and asked immediately: "You OK son?"
"Hes sick with laryngitis." Joey answered for me helpfully. I nodded again, not wanting to talk more than I had to, to keep up the possible charade.
"You're here to play? You look a bit rough; your parents know?"
I pointed to them. They waved. I waved back.
"Good enough for me. Alright we won the toss, we're up first. lets do this, Myrc you lead off."
Shrugging, ruthlessly suppressing my stomach lepidoptera, I grabbed my bat and strode up to the plate, As soon as the game start was called I set myself (I'm a lefty) and tried to look crazy, to intimidate the pitcher. I don't think it worked well, judging by the fast ball that came in inches from my face. Reasonably fast, but I caught the motion; hmm, in between, 82 and 87 miles per hour, angled to make me start. Next likely pitch is a curve or a slider, angled low and possibly away from me to make me chase.
Wait, what? Never mind, focus! Hes pitching!
I watched it come in, reading the curvature by the arc of his arm. A fast slider, low and away as I thought. I stepped into it with a textbook swing, and hit it an inch from my bat tip; sending it out to mid right field. Unfortunately, it was only mid field. Even worse, While normally I could run moderately fast, today I felt much more slow. The end result of these two factors was I only barely succeeded in a single, not my usual double or triple from such a perfect shot. As I stopped, panting, from my sprint I saw coach Reynolds frowning. Hopefully he wasn't too mad.
Considering how good we were, it didn't take long till I was trotting home; I wasn't quite the best bat on our team, that honor went to Darrel white. I was simply very good. My strength was my field play; I was a pretty good shortstop. Well suffice to say, I may be looking like myself, but I definitely wasn't playing like myself. I had no problem at all in calculating angles, getting a perfect jump on the ball in batting as well as fielding. But physically I was always a step late and muscle short; my throws barely reached anywhere, with almost no velocity at all, and I could barely hit into the outfield.
The end result was I did manage to contribute to our win, but I had to pick my moments; I never did strike out, but was limited to base hits and sacrifice plays as opposed to home runs. My play as a shortstop left quite a bit to be desired, but I only really screwed up once, when I couldn't throw a ball to home plate, letting the other team score.
While we celebrated, I mourned. I had lost my physical prowess...maybe I was actually sick? My theory could be wrong after all, I only had anecdotal evidence.
"Myrc?"
Here it comes. "Yeah coach?"
"Don't beat yourself up, you played well. Honestly you did great. I've never seen you read the ball so well."
"Thanks coach."
Pretty sure he was just saying that to make me feel better...but it worked.
"Victory party at Pizza Cabin!"
I waved and pointed towards my parents, coach saw and nodded. My family closed ranks around me like a personal guard detail, dad to the left, mom to the right, Ian in the lead.
"You have an emergency appointment with Dr Halleck at Logan."
I nodded, after all that has happened, it was obvious no simple clinic visit was going to be enough. I was mildly curious as to why Dr Halleck was meeting us there, as he was
just a simple country quack, wasn't he? Oh well I'd find out soon enough.
Almost as soon as we had all piled in the car, I started feeling very sleepy. The car ride did it's magic, lulling me none too gently to sleep. If I dreamed, I don't
remember it.
I woke up from being jostled, finding myself being put one of those medical examination beds. The air around me reeking of disinfectants and the lights blinding, it took
me a minute to remember what was going on. Oh yeah, I was dying. Into the typical hospital room, single; bed and table, television in the corner.
"How are you Myrc?"
"Pretty crappy doc, how are you?"
"About the same, can't complain. So what symptoms are we looking at?" he and some other guy in a lab coat, were setting up some weird looking machines in a corner. I squinted,
only barely able to make them out, even though it was..well I couldn't tell, but 20 feet away at most. One was sized to fit a human inside though, like a
magnetic resonance imager.
"Well, I've either shrunk or am shrinking, loss of strength and speed, getting fat, and I apparently made car and tool parts disappear; And the newest one is I'm going blind. Who is your friend?"
"Oh that's X-ray. He's what is called a devisor, he makes medical scanners that can come in really handy, and he owed me a favor."
The guy came closer, close enough to see finally as he started pasting leads on my head, without a word. Tall, at least 6 ft 4 in, rather well built, lantern jaw, unshaven,
with green eyes and brown hair streaked with silver. He looked maybe 25. I didn't see a ring, I'm guessing he cleaned up at the bars. He had a sour look on his face, however.
"Not a people person, is he?"
"Not even a little bit, but that's fine, because his machines here are going to tell us what is happening and why, and in less than 30 minutes!"
"Only for most of it, the DNA scan might take longer."
"Why?"
He stopped a second and looked at me as Dr Halleck escorted my family from the room. They were about to start attaching leads in some very embarrassing places.
"what do you mean?"
"I mean, why does it take longer? Is it a processor issue? A database issue in matching the right sequences?" Rather reluctantly I pulled off my wonderfully dirty sweaty uniform.
"No, it's actually a combination of both. This scanner uses most of its' own processor power to run and record all the information, So it sends the data to my mainframe. My mainframe analyzes the results and sends it back. The long delay is mainly due to the information involved."
"So do you send the entire code there and back? That seems wasteful; why not just send the entire code there, and then send any rare differences back? seems that would save a lot of time."
"It probably would, if my database were large enough. I may miss some evidence otherwise."
"Good point. how big is your database?"
"As good as the human genome projects' plus my own. At the moment, a good 20,000 subjects. Not quite enough by my standards though hopefully yours will help."
"As long as you don't steal any DNA to make clones of later...I'm all for it. That was a joke by the way; no need to start frowning at me! Give me a break, I'm nervous."
"True, my apologies, though your joke was in poor taste. Into the machine please, and do not move. And no talking, that is movement."
I climbed in, then heard Dr. Hallecks' muffled voice.
"Cards?"
"Sure. Poker?"
"Sounds good, I'll deal first."
I hated them in that moment.
The machine whose clutches they had left me in had few tender mercies; I was poked, prodded, sampled (one time I'm sure my spine was tapped) and generally had every horrendously uncomfortable test I could have. The less said about it, the better. Really. What was really torturous was that I was still tired, and it kept
me up!
Then a small chime rang, like an oven timer. Darn it, I'm not fries! I am so going to....
"You awake yet? You can get out now."
Crawling out of the claustrophobic space I fixed him with my best glare: "You have REALLY got to work on your bedside manner. No help for a terminal patient? An oven timer? What the hell?"
I looked; my family was in the room, they were playing cards with Dr Halleck while X-ray was reading a pamphlet of some kind, not even paying any attention
to me at all. My family was tense, Dr Halleck looked like he had a new insect to play with, and I started to feel the pressure.
"...What?"
"Dude, you've been asleep for hours,' Ian informed me: 'We were beginning to think we'd have to rent a room from the doc."
"It's true Myrc, you were out for just over two hours; we had time to translate the gobbledegook X-rays machine spit out for us." DR Halleck added.
"And they told us already, honey." Mother looked concerned, father looked very uncomfortable. And there was that 'honey' again; though I didn't mind at the
moment.
"Let me guess: it's cancer...or an aneurysm."
X-ray snorted, still not looking up.
"You're not dying, though it's interesting what the multiphasic spectrometer came up with; for example, you've never had a prostate, and your appendix is functional. Though what it's doing..." he trailed off to incoherent mutters.
"You're bedside manner REALLY REALLY sucks. Do I need to resort to violence here?"
He looked at me deadpan and stated: "Congratulations, it's a girl."
I looked at him, then down at my body.
"You high? pretty sure I have what you have there, buddy. Though maybe mine's bigger..."
Then mother was there, gently forcing me into a chair.
"Myrc, don't be rude, even if the man's an ass.' she shot him a glare and continued, 'Hes telling the truth however, we've had a few people look at the readouts, even re-calibrated his machine. It always gives the same results. Genetically you're a girl."
I felt, on top of feeling like my world was tilting, a little weird. Possibilities and probabilities suddenly caught fire in my head, a type of haze or fever, and I had to ask. Both feelings seemed oddly incongruous, at odds with each other, yet harmonious, as if one brought the other.
"How is that even possible? Do you have anything concrete?"
X-ray handed me the pamphlet he had been studying...it was the results of the tests; my entire genetic code, summed up in a sort of cribs notes. I...understood that. I could read some of it at least, so I started to.
"You see there?' he pointed to highlighted portions, 'You entered puberty a bit late for males, nearly a year ago by best guess. The problem is your puberty was a bit different than normal. Tell me, have you heard of that old wives tale about all babies being born women?"
I nodded, still reading.
"Well it's false. Males and Females are genetically separate, assuming nothing is abnormal according to current human standards. For the record, abnormal includes RNA transcription errors and some of the older stable mutations such as different peptide combinations in the brain leading to different sexual tendencies and proclivities, etcetera, as well as hermaphrodites and such. Babies are normally androgynous at birth, and develop along gender roles at puberty. That is 'normal'. I could hear the quotes.
Well, in your case, the old wives tale holds true. You have two X chromosomes, perfectly represented..but one of your chromosomes had its' function partially turned off, leaving one line of your second X dormant. So while genetically female, you were biologically male for all intents and purposes. That all ended shortly after you hit puberty.
For some reason, when your body started producing Gonadotropin or GnRH to start producing body hair, it acted as a switch...your second X chromosome fully activated. So your puberty was obviously a bit different than that of a normal male. Instead of testosterone, your body started producing large amounts of estradiol;
this was further complicated by the fact that for you at least, most of your mutations are located in the same part of your genetic code...the part previously turned off. Once it became active, all the abnormal genes followed suit, and one of those mutations is a rather low level regeneration; I'd say according
to the current scale used, a 1 or a 2. Certainly no more than a 2."
However, that regeneration was enough. I could see it now...without regeneration, my somewhat anomalous physiology would go no further than say, hormone shots and some other medication, and nothing further. With it, however, my traitorous body looked at my genetic code and reproduced it faithfully, carrying
the new orders involving what my body and puberty should look like, according to the newly active genes; there was apparently a huge difference between the two.
"I see you understand. The truly fascinating thing is the loss of mass; your regeneration, from what I can determine, turned your entire bone structure into a cartilage similar to that if a sharks'...and is currently ferrying mass away from it, in order to comply with whatever your new height is supposed to be, for example. Its amazing. Never have I gotten such readings of what actually goes on inside a body as it mutates."
"so wait, my skeleton is shrinking of course...so are my tendons and ligaments? That would explain much of the loss of strength, as not only the simple machine numbers change but also the joint tension...."
I grabbed a piece of paper from him, one of his pens from his lab coat, and started scribbling the
required equations to figure out the difference. He blinked.
"And that all but clinches it. Dr. Halleck, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell, I'm all but certain your child is a devisor of some kind. The changes are by no means complete, though they are proceeding exponentially now, and have been for at least a week. My best guess is Myrc will be ready for testing by the end of next week, and I'll schedule one if you're willing; I have a few contacts with the facilities."
My nose was bleeding again...irritably I wiped it away from my calculations and finished them.
"There. It doesn't completely cover the estimated strength loss though..."
"How do you feel, honey?"
"Oh, I'm fine mom, just ravenous and very fatigued.' I sighed. 'There is no way to reverse this. I can tell there isn't. I'll be a female within the week. If not for the stupid regeneration...ugh."
"It'll be OK honey, everything will work out."
"thank you for your time doctors, We'd like to take our children home now, unless there is anything else?"
"No, of course...let me give you my number, please call me if there is any help I can give; I have your number now, and will call you with the appointment details. One last word though; burnout. That is the name given to a condition where mutants, usually those whose powers are still emerging, strain themselves to violent and sometimes explosive results. Many cases heard in the news of mutants going on a rampage or exploding were actually burnout cases.
Now I saw no evidence of this, and regenerators don't often suffer this problem, as they are buffered somewhat by the ability. But it remains a condition
to be aware of."
He grabbed my shoulder, and looked at me, really looked at me for the first time.
"Don't overdo it, please."
"Yeah, uh..OK."
"See you next week." he waved.
Damn, he waited till the end of the visit to be human! What was with that? I did notice the walking on eggshell pronoun usage everyone was doing; he started it off, on purpose maybe?
I looked to my dad, who still looked decidedly uncomfortable. He was not alone in this, but he needed cheering up. I assessed the situation...and came to what I felt was the proper conclusion.
"Dad."
"Yes Myrc?"
"Food. Now. Right now, and in large amounts." I grinned."
He gave me a ghost of a grin back..but it was something.
"Sure thing Myrc...pizza, since you missed yours?"
"Perfect, dad."
As soon as he turned away I dragged mom aside.
"You should call X-ray back and get Ian tested as soon as dad is distracted." I whispered.
She paled, but nodded. Hey I didn't like the implications either, but it had a 50/50 chance of affecting Ian too; after all, that weird X chromosome had to come from one of them, right?
Oh well, too much heavy thought. Time to enjoy pizza, off color humor, and sleep. Too much of that heavy thought stuff would drive anyone insane.
Sorry I'm late, got bitten by a gaming bug.
So here we are again, standard disclaimers apply. In this episode, the plot thickens.
Going to bed as soon as I was stuffed with pizza was a must; I just couldn't shake the fatigue of my body, though my mind seemed wide awake. For some reason, numbers and computations kept running through my mind like demented zombie sheep, refusing to die. I'd never dreamed of numbers before, and I was pretty sure I didn't like it...but I was also sure I didn't hate it. I woke up with the clear impression that my mind was going, and a mild feeling of fatigue that was miles better than last night. This time of course, there was some blood on the pillow.
I just stared at that pillow for a bit when my situation hit me all at once, so I buried my face into it and screamed, and screamed, and screamed. Ahh,precious release. Just can't let anyone see me do that, bad things could happen.
Wiping tears from my eyes, I grabbed some random clothes (sweats, pretty sure they would stretch to fit if needed) and went to a long overdue shower appointment...and ran smack into Ian. At least I was still taller than he was; hopefully that would last.
"Dude, you stink. Go, shower is free."
I mumbled an apology, not trusting my voice; after all, it wasn't working too well yesterday. Sigh, some red bull or something. The daily disrobing of course, offered up its' plethora of daily alterations. My waist looked like I was a member of bulimics anonymous, my chest was beginning to get flabby, and my eyes...my once muddy eyes.
They were an arresting aqua color, and seemed to be faceted like gems. I knew right away they were dangerous. If I saw eyes like this on any girl before I would have been entranced; they seemed mesmerizing. As I started the shower I also tested my voice with a good old do rae me...like my eyes, it was amazing, a soprano of perfect pitch and tonal quality. Well for a girl anyway. So many people would gladly murder puppies for a voice like this, I was possibly in trouble.
Meh, worry later, sing now. It felt good! It felt like I was scratching an itch I barely knew existed. As a result, I took a bit longer in the shower than I wanted, Finally soaping up and rinsing off ever so gently, remembering yesterdays' pain. Far less so today, though my chest still hurt like hell. Drying my hair in front of the mirror I received my third and hopefully last shock of the day; my muddy hair showed hints of once again trying to match my eyes...the roots were showing a different color, and it looked like the same aqua color to me. Looks like I follow in Ralph's footsteps after all?
Once dressed in my old jogging sweats (I was swimming in them of course, had to roll up the sleeves and everything) I ran a brush through my hair twice and walked downstairs, on the prowl through the bush for food...or wallabys. Right now I'd take either one. Luckily enough, while there were no wallabys at the end of the trail, there was plenty of pop tarts on a plate, with juice next to them...and my name on a small note next to them.
"Hey Ian' I yelled; 'are the 'rents gone?"
"Yeah they went somewhere, wouldn't say where though; just that they would be back by dinner. So free house for us all Sunday! By the way;'he added coming into the kitchen, 'nice voice sis."
"You trying for a beat down?" he raised his hands.
"No! No, I mean it...I heard you in the shower too, and I mean it, your voice is really nice."
I was pretty sure the kitchen heated up; was the oven left on?
"Nice blush too!" he added before laughing and running off.
"Ian you bastard!"
Ugh, there was definitely something wrong with me, why would I blush like that at all? Sigh, oh well...pop tarts! Om nom nom...if there is a better food than the pop tart, I have yet to taste it.
"Dad wants the garage cleaned up after breakfast!" I heard yelled...could have been from anywhere; the squirt was definitely hiding.
Urk. My mess, I'd forgotten.
After about a dozen pop tarts (well...maybe 14, but who was counting? I most definitely was not.) I went into the garage to look again at the madness I had wrought. Metal scraps and crap everywhere, and a gutted car. It didn't look any better the second time. Wasting no more time, I put the gutted tools away and started sweeping up the floor, where all the scraps had curiously ended up...nothing on the workbench itself. I started making an inventory of what I'd need to fix the car. The car had as yet, never even turned over, but that wouldn't stop my dad from demanding full replacements. Distributor cap, spark plugs (only one missing, oddly enough) the fan, a few of the belts...ugh, I'm going to need to mow so many yards...
I sort of woke up to find the garage cleaned nearly spotless, I don't mean just my mess, but CLEAN...like the floor was polished and the car shammied and everything. And I was scribbling something...something that looked like a weird car engine, with a list of parts to the side. A..schematic? One with accurate dimensions, and proper mathematical formulae off to the side? From me?
No matter how many times I saw it, it still weirded me out. Maybe I'd get used to it later...
"You ok Myrc?"
I turned to see Ian had snuck up on me; he was watching me, leaning against the door.
"Yeah, sorry; I didn't do anything...crazy, did I?"
"Not at all, just cleaned like a demon possessed, then drew a bunch of crap; don't remember anything?"
"Vaguely, it started with thinking about the car repairs..."
"Meh, don't worry about that crap right now; come with me."
Curious I followed him; Ian never really wanted to hang with me before; something was up. He went to my room, there, next to my bed was his 17 inch computer monitor, the PlayStation 2 hooked in; snacks and drinks all around the 2 bean bag chairs thrown in front of it, and one of the few games I liked, Tekken 4, already rolling.
"Prepare to get pwned, noob!"
I rolled my eyes.
"Whatever, what brought this on?"
"Well you're still sick, and tired all the time, yes? So this here is your new hangout spot, and I am your host...we will now play games all day, drink copious amounts of sugary colas, and eat massive amounts of things that are bad for us. And I will teach you the ways of the gamer nerd. Unless you'd rather go outside in your current condition?"
Argh, he was right...normally I'd be outside on a day like this, playing a sport or riding my bike or something....cant really do any of that now. I didn't even have make up on to make me look less stupid!
"OK, I see your point, hand me that controller, and the left bean bag chair, and I'm in." What? the left one was the softer one, I liked it.
"All yours. Team battle for the win, random if you aren't a wuss."
"Done."
A bit over an hour? maybe two? (Time moves a bit differently when you game I find.) The doorbell rang. I paused the game.
"No way am I answering the door looking like this."
"Spoken like a true chick, sis." he replied as he ran out the door.
I fumed; that sonofa! How dare he! I bet if he shrank and looked like curdled death he wouldn't want to be seen either! Hmm.....my thoughts were sidetracked by the sound of voices; two of them, both raised. One was my brother, and the other....
Ricky. My best buddy.
No thought at all, I dived out of the chair and into the bed, covering up completely, just as the door opened.
"Myrc, you in here? Ian is saying you weren't up to company, but when has that ever kept us apart before?"
I cursed my wonderful new voice as I responded. "Yeah I'm here. I'm really not up to company, but if you promise not to comment on my obvious issues, or try to look at me, you can stay."
He looked at what to him, was a lump on my bed.
"Dude is that you? You sound like a..."
"Girl? yeah I know. I'm a mutant man, that's what has been wrong with me, and yes I'm one of the weird ones. I'm currently about half done changing. Yes, to a girl. I wouldn't normally care if you saw or not, but I'm sure I look pretty stupid right now. No I'm not dangerous. Now that was strike one. No more discussion on it. You want to stay? you play games and you keep it down...I might nod off. Got it?"
After a long awkward moment where many flies could have been trapped within his jaw, he nodded.
"Yeah I got it...so Tekken?"
"For now, maybe some need for speed later..but I'm getting kinda tired again, so who knows?"
"Works for me, though I'd love a nice shooter later. So who's ahead?"
"Jerkbag is ahead, as always...hes up 6 matches to 3. He always cleans up at this one."
"Heh. Well maybe I'll do better. I do tend to game more than you."
"Might change; the new me is less likely to be as active."
"Oh?"
"Not telling you, you'll know when everyone else does. I'll be missing a week of school; you can tell whoever you want to tell that I'm changing if you want."
"OK. Damn." He cursed as Ian destroyed him, then shot a quick glance at my still blanketed form.
"You want a turn?"
"Nah I'm good for now, you go ahead." I knew he was waiting for me to move so he could catch a glimpse; I wasn't that stupid.
I was so busy watching Ricky like a hawk, that sleep snuck up on me.
I was out for two hours; when I came two with a hyper intelligent 'snerk' noise, both Ian and Ricky were still in my room, playing Twisted Metal Black, one of my favorite games...sick psychotic car mayhem at its' finest. I was still covered by my blanket; luckily I hadn't smothered myself.
"Awake again?" Ian asked softly.
"Yes, awake again, sigh...this crap is getting old already."
"Want a turn, dude? I need a break."
"Sure, but I'm not coming out. Just toss the controller."
I snapped it out of the air, reeling it back in and taking over. Ricky watched me play, Ian watched Ricky mostly...sticking up for me, I think. Ugh, I hated being weak. Either way I didn't think I needed protecting from Ricky...I mean, it's Ricky! I trusted the guy with my life! But could I still?
The gaming session continued, all three of us wrapped in our own thoughts, until we heard the front door close and my dad yell: "Dinner!"
"Ricky; out. Now. Sorry, and I'll call you when I'm ready, if we're still cool, ok?"
"Yeah we're cool. I'm gone, enjoy the food." I heard his customary loud greetings to my parents as he made his way out.
"Myrc everything ok?"
"Yes mom, Ricky came over to see how I was, and guardsman Ian protected me from his evil ways. He did not see the fair damsel."
"What?"
"In other words, I hid and we played games so he couldn't see or spread rumors about how stupid I look."
"Oh, honey, you look fine; there is nothing wrong with you..."
"With all due respect mom,' I interrupted. 'I look half finished; you know it, I know it, everyone who has seen me knows it...and everyone who will see me will know it. I'm not cool with this, but I'm really not cool with having a bunch of people see me when I'm neither one thing or another, but some screwed up in between thing. Not if I don't have to."
She was hugging me before I knew it, and I realized I was crying a bit. Tamping that down really quick, I looked at my dad, who was setting the table and had a large box of takeout pasta. I grinned at my mom, looked at dad again, and opened my mouth.
"Cheep, cheep."
He looked at me with my mouth still open and I cheeped again, adding small hops. He caught on and stuffed a bread stick in my face while mom giggled, and Ian guffawed.
"So, sit, eat, we have announcements."
We ate quickly of course, I was as always famished, and I guess Ian was as well. The parents ate at a sedate pace that kind of irritated me...I couldn't slow down. stupid constantly empty stomach. Stupid genes. Stupid world.
"So,' I was startled out of my pity party, to find dinner over except for me....I was still half halfheartedly chewing on things within reach. 'we managed, on a Sunday, to get the bureaucratic wheels going on a few things."
She slid papers at me.
"what are these?"
"Social security card, state ID, birth certificate. The new you. The state ID has no picture yet obviously, but we will be handling that as soon as you settle on a look, you primadonna."
"Wow they work fast, and on a Sunday?' I looked at dad; 'Your doing?"
"Of course! We ex military have some pull after all, this country still loves vets."
"Minerva Myrciel Campbell? Where did that come from? And why didn't you just ask? I could have picked my own name."
"That's the name you'd have had if you'd been born our daughter, and well since you were and we just didn't know..."
"But..but Minerva?!?"
"Would you have rathered Boddicea? Minerva was your grandmothers' name. Deal with it."
"Heh heh heh HA HA HA HA HA."
"Keep laughing Ian, or should I say Elise?" Ian choked, with a look of horror suitable for a movie crossing his features.
"Hah! Revenge! Blackmail material!"
"Whatever, Min. Two can play that game."
"Ahem; we're not done you two, you can snipe at each other later. We come bearing gifts! I'll just start bringing them in. Ian, come help me."
"Yeah yeah, grumble grumble."
"I'll get the dishes mom."
"You sure you feel up to it? I'd hate for you to break my china." she said with a grin.
"Your concern is touching, but yes I'm fine, for now." I returned her grin.
So I did the dishes while the rest of the family plotted, washing and drying while just barely picking out the whispers in the other room. So once done, I quietly made my way back into the dining room. For the record, I did not creep in! I deny that categorically, and anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong. At any rate, it didn't work regardless, they saw me coming.
The first thing I noticed was the box with the brand new laptop inside. State of the art, unless I missed my guess, unlike my current 5 year old machine. To the left my eyes alighted on were all the books. collegiate texts for all the science basics, dozens of books piled on the table. The last thing to catch my eyes is the electric guitar. A guitar of the same Aqua color of my eyes, though quite a bit smaller than my dads; a fact I filed away for later. The case next to it had a sliver of a moon and the word Luna on it as a logo.
Now I'd wanted a guitar forever. Couldn't play one, never shown the slightest bit of talent for playing music. My father could play some, and I had always begged him to teach me. Now it looked like he finally would. I'm sure my grin would crawl off my face it was so big.
"Ahh, don't go looking at me like that! I'll do what I can, but it's likely you'll have to teach yourself more than I can; with my job and all..."
"But you will teach me?"
"Yes, what I can...for as long as my ears can stand it."
"Thank you all, for all of this."
"That's not all; there are some new tools and odds and ends in the garage. They are yours, and in no way mitigate the replacements you need to get for me. But, use all of it as you feel you must. And fix my baby while you're at it, and you'll get those lessons."
Impulsively I hugged him. "You're the best!"
"Yeah well, I try." He replied, holding me back at arm's length and looking uncomfortable.
I was about to apologize for making him uncomfortable when mom stepped in.
"So let's stow all this; Min's room is already a mess, don't want my dining room to follow suit."
"OK, OK." As I grabbed the computer first, I caught a the glimmer of a look between my mother and father.
"What?"
"Nothing honey, Ian will help you with the books...won't you Ian?"
"Sure, sure, I'm on it."
Once up the stairs I grilled Ian quietly.
"So what did you get? Must have been something nice to get your full cooperation."
"You know me well; I got a couple games for the ps2 I wanted."
"You know what was up with the 'rents? they had a really funny look for a minute there."
"Nah, you're reading too much into things sis, this is a weird situation for everyone. That reminds me, How close are you now?"
"Truth told, I'm not sure...I hope I don't lose anymore height, this is getting ridiculous."
"Suffering from any other...shrinkage?"
That one earned him a punch, which he shrugged off easily. Stupid muscles. I'd have my revenge, oh yes.
As soon as I got to my room, I wasted no time opening the box and pulling out the laptop. hmm, dual core, nvidia 7600 go, 4 gig ram, 320 gig hard drive. A true screaming machine, if ever there was one. There were some games boxed with it that I set aside. Had to move my old computer to make room for the new.
Reaching under your desk to pull computer cords is always a pain. I just yanked them, opened the new laptop. I sensed a trend here; the case was aqua. All the while Ian was shuttling books, giving me sour looks. I grinned at him in response, eyebrows raised. Once I had the laptop set up and powering on, I
went downstairs to get my other pretty toy. Into its' case it went, and I carried it with both hands and gently set it into my cleanest closet corner. Ugh, I did not want to clean this room, but it was a mess. Maybe when I wasn't so constantly tired.
I woke in my bed in the middle of the night, realizing I'd fallen asleep after the fact. My new laptops' password determination screen was blinking at me. It was after midnight and everyone else was asleep. Meh, I was up now, and sick of sleeping...so time to set this computer up. My password...hmmm....how to make
this really secure...
I woke again, this time though something was different. I remembered the night before, in all its' glory. I remember what I did, and how. It was still a bit vague, but I had no problem recalling how I'd revamped the camera software to map and recognize my eyes in order to provide security, nor the other fun things I'd done. Monday morning, 5:13 am. I'd slept two hours, plenty. I could do plenty today, but first....coffee!
coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee! I wanted it, craved it, never had liked it before, but was hooked now. I was in the middle of brewing a pot when Father came into the kitchen, all ready to brew it himself.
"Good morning, father."
"Morning Min...uhh, what happened to the coffee maker?"
"I improved it, it was ruining the coffee by only filtering it once. I decided it could do better. It takes just over 2 minutes longer, but it is worth the wait. Want some?"
"Uhhh, sure. It kinda looks like a small distillery."
"That is exactly what it is now father, for both the water and the grounds, and then both. Takes up 8.4% more counter space, and takes 2 minutes, 17 seconds longer to brew, but hopefully mother will like the end result enough to not overreact. oh, operating it is easy...grounds go in the funnel there, water in the tank there, the on button works as it should, and the used coffee ends up in the old coffee maker cup there."
The coffee finished brewing while I explained, and I poured us both cups. Mother came down as father took his first cautious sip.
"Wow that's really good! Really really good!"
"Oh by all that's holy, I should have remembered about the coffee thing...though that is fairly tame by their standards."
"What was that mother? you shouldn't mutter to yourself like that. Coffee?"
"Sure, sure. Anything else you've improved?"
"No, of course not! Well...the security protocols on the new laptop you got me. A password seemed to...useless, so I made a program to scan peoples' eyes when you open it up. It will only open to my retinal scan. Don't give me that look! Software upgrade is all, I didn't touch the hardware."
"You'd best be very careful about that. You break it, you won't get another."
"I know...I thought I might repair father's car though...once I drink more of this liquid ambrosia that is. Morning Ian, how are you?"
"Good, you OK? You seem pretty chipper this morning."
"I am well, I think. Going back upstairs for a bit."
As soon as I placed my coffee on the desk next to my laptop I noticed. My bed was hairy. Small hairs, on my pillow, a bit here and there on the bed. My eyebrows? I checked. I still had them, though they seemed more thin. Going into the bathroom, I saw it. My eyebrows were now just slightly darker than my eyes
...not neon by any means, but a rather wonderful shade of aqua nonetheless, continuing the trend. I sighed, my head was already showing hints of the same color. My body hair was obviously k.i.a. along with my muscles and size. I flopped back on the bed and did the pillow screaming thing again.
"Min, breakfast!"
"coming, mother."
I came downstairs as Ian came back down, shower done. We both demolished the bacon and eggs set before us.
"So, honey, I'm going to be gone for a bit today, got to head up to your school and make sure they know what's going on. Your father and I got you a cell phone; the number to reach me is programmed in already as 1, the number to reach your dad is 2. Call for any reason at all, OK?"
A cell phone! Never had one before. Even if it was because they were worried about me, it was nice.
"Thanks mother; I'll keep it on me at all times. I think I'll work on the barracuda today."
My father gave me a look as he was about to walk out the door.
"How? you've no money, and are missing a few parts."
"I think I might be able to fabricate them out of what we have available. I'll have to research to make sure, but that is the current plan. Don't worry, no harm in just checking."
"Alright. Be careful though, and have a good day."
"You too. Don't let your boss tick you off."
After the breakfast dishes I went outside to inventory the materials I had available; everyone had already left by the time I was finished. My father in his infinite wisdom had gone to the local junk yard, and bought a bunch or motors and car parts from various engines, and even two full engines. Whether they worked or not was immaterial, I could use them as I pleased. Though I did wonder how my parents could afford all this crap for me; I'd never thought about it before, we were well off...but I felt a bit guilty as well as loved. I was costing them so much this week! I had to fix this car, at least.
After the inventory, I went back upstairs to Google the barracuda's engine schematics and performance specs. Which proved to be an interesting bit of light reading. But how could I make the tools to fabricate the parts out of what I had? hmmmm...Inspiration struck and I began designing.
"Yo sis, you home?"
I looked up, suddenly noticing my eyes aching and the tired achy feeling I'd been ignoring...along with a sudden disconcerting jiggle from my chest. I refused to look down.
"Yes, up here Ian."
"Here, your homework for the day."
"thank you; how was your day?"
"It was alright, yours? No, let me guess, you were lost in the surfing there."
"Sort of, designing a sort of 3 dimensional printer to help me with repairing the 'cuda. I was in the middle of coding the CAD software. Sigh, out of coffee again."
"OK, stop. You and I are going to game again. I've decided. Halo with me."
"But, I'm..."
"But nothing, this is too much like work, and you need a break. lets go, I'll get the mountain dew."
"Fine, meeting in your room. I'll start the game up. Ugh."
As I stood up I weaved some; Dizzy again for no reason at all? Sigh. I held the walls to Ian's room, and plopped into the same bean bag chair I favored. So nice...started up the television and Xbox, grabbed controller 1 and set it to online play.
It did not take long for me to realize something was different; I could see it all. I could see every angle, arc (mostly parabolic), and potential outcome of any shot fired or dodge path used. I could see the outcome, leading to even more outcomes, leading to more outcomes...once again, the numbers danced, and I waltzed with them. I no longer missed; I was much harder to hit. I could see the outcomes of the other players in the game as well, just as clearly as my own. It was nice.
But all things have to end, and this did too, with me dead to the world in the comfy chair.
The next 2 days were a blur of eyestrain, computer coding (it did occur to me to wonder how I could code, when I couldn't before; I'd never had the knack before.) and coffee, with the incredible shrinking man shrinking further. I measured myself constantly. I couldn't help it. As I shrank of course, other things grew. I tried very hard to ignore those things, but by Wednesday evening they were affecting my arm reach and balance. Walking to the bathroom to measure myself for the third time today (Yes, a bit morbid, but wouldn't you?) I ran into Ian again. This time he knocked me on my butt.
"You OK sis? Sorry, wasn't watching where I was going."
"Yes I'm fine Ian, not made of glass here." I'd never tell him that bouncing on my butt hurt a bit; any sign of pain and I'd never live this down.
As he helped me up I realized...I was staring into his eyes. A week ago, I towered above him; today I looked him right in the eye. I all but ran for the bathroom. I got on scale first, shutting the door in Ian's face. 96 pounds. 96 freaking pounds; just this morning I'd been over 100. I did the door tape measure thing next. 5 measly feet tall. I was smaller than some 10 year olds I knew of.
Next thing I knew mom was there, holding me as I sobbed like the stupid little girl I'd become. I don't know how long that went on, but it was some time. Then a knock on the door interrupted my meltdown. I looked and my family was around me, squeezed into the by no means small but suddenly claustrophobic bathroom.
"I know that look Min, don't you dare; you've nothing to apologize or feel embarrassed for. Let your father worry about who is at the door; you can't bottle this up, and I won't let you."
I sniffled into her blouse some more; great intelligent responses are my forte.
"So what brought this on? Let me guess, you lost another inch?"
I shook my head.
"Lost two actually, and a good 7 pounds. I'm now 5 feet nothing and 96 pounds, assuming your scale is calibrated correctly."
She muttered something I didn't catch, then spoke up: "Well no help for it I guess, no way you can get along without clothes now. We shop tomorrow, and just hope you're done."
"Oh Mistress is quite done losing mass ma'am." A new voice interrupted us. It sounded cultured, polite, and young all at once.
Of course we all looked for this intruder, finding him at the entrance to the bathroom, with my loving father hanging off him; It looked like dad had tried to stop him, and just been ignored.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, Campbell family, But It was imperative that I reached mistress as soon as possible. Good evening Mistress."
With the rest of the family mildly stunned and my father being rather ineffectual at the moment, I decided to take charge a bit.
"Who are you?"
"I am designated as Jeeves mistress; might I ask which nom de guere you have been using of late? I'm sure my files are out of date."
"Jeeves? I don't know any Jeeves."
"You don't as yet, but you know my creator. I was told to inform you...ARNEE sent me."
My head swam; I remembered a night not too long ago with more clarity; talking away at a computer chip while I built some sort of small body, nattering away in a way I couldn't to a living person about my hopes and fears while tearing things apart. And lastly a design; a schematic of all that was being taken away from me, to help me when I could no longer help myself.
I still didn't remember everything, but I recalled enough.
"Father, it's alright. You can stop, and you won't need the gun. Mother, I do know this person. He's an android butler I designed."
"Is he what you built our of my power tools?"
"No, that was ARNEE...but ARNEE built him, using my design."
I took a closer look; Jeeves looked normal, he had black hair, blue eyes, had to be 6 feet tall and appeared to be late teens/early 20's. He was dressed in an old tuxedo, black and replete with tails. He had a face sculpted as a modern Adonis; fine aristocratic features without seeming effeminate, and a slightly more than medium build. In short, he was handsome.
The shock of me finding anything built to look guy like attractive was broken by mom's next statement.
"I don't trust you at all; you say that Min built you?"
"That is Mistress's new name? I must say I approve." The look he was giving me made me warm and uncomfortable at the same time.
"No, I did not say that mistress Min 'built me'; she provided the design and construction method however, as well as my programming and purpose for existence. I can prove that much if you allow it Mrs. Campbell."
"Go ahead, slowly."
Jeeves went to the next room, my room, and grabbed my old schematics from the garage incident. He handed one to mom, then took off his coat and shirt. You could see the hatch with the small recessed hinges on his back, right where the schematic said it should be.
"You may open it if you wish, I cannot as my radial motion is like a humans' and therefore I cannot reach."
I helped mom when she hesitated opening the hatch, unscrewing it with a handy nail file and opening it up.
"It matches the specs, mostly. some differences, which I assume are due to the on site resources."
She looked, obviously lost as to what she was seeing, but in the end agreed with me.
"Yes, it's the same, or close enough. So where is this ARNEE?"
"I'm sorry Mrs Campbell, I'm not at liberty to say. ARNEE's mission is not yet complete, and I cannot compromise its' location until it is.
She gave Jeeves the fish eye.
"Not even for your mistress?"
"No Mrs, Campbell, specifically not from Mistress Min."
I put the hatch back into place, noting that his 'skin' felt like skin...and was warm.
"So this ARNEE is free to take over the world or something, and you won't tell us where it is?"
"That is not its' mission. it is merely a construction prototype; but if you prefer...yes."
"Mom, nothing I built is going to go running around taking over the world! ARNEE is fine." I hoped.
"We will discuss this later. For now, let's all get out of the bathroom."
I was too close. Looking back, I'll admit that. I had just closed the hatch on Jeeves' back, and he had put his shirt back on. When mom shooed everyone out, He picked me up in a bride carry and strode though the hall to my room, ignoring my slightly panicking protests. He deposited me gently on my bed, and held a finger up.
"I'll be right back mistress, please do not move."
Mom looked in on me with a questioning look. I shrugged...of course I had no idea what this android was up to, I wasn't fully responsible for his programming. She went downstairs, I assume after him.
About 5 minutes later Jeeves was back, mom and family in tow. He placed one of our TV trays and our good tea service down, poured me some chamomile tea and handed me some sort peach crumpet or something. Not sure what it was,or where he got it, but with the chamomile it was especially delicious. He also served my family, mother first, father last.
"Alright Campbell family, please. Mistress Min needs her rest."
"Ha, you're getting out of here too, tin man."
"Ian... may I call you Ian? Ian one of my primary responsibilities is to ensure Mistress Min's safety. To that end it is best that I stay within visual range of her at all times."
"I won't leave if you don't leave...and I'll talk forever."
I added my own two cents. "Jeeves...out. Thank you for the snacks, but you can't share my room. Having you in here staring at me would be...creepy."
he looked from one to the other of us.
"As you wish, mistress Min. I shall be within vocal range should you require anything."
With the help of the chamomile, I drifted right off.
Chapter 5 already! what has it been, a month? I'm on fire! Once again, standard disclaimers apply, I don't know you or the people you know, so any similarities are coincidence. In this chapter....the dreaded testing.
I knew something was drastically different the minute I woke. I had a dream I couldn't remember, a vague feeling of being chased relentlessly down various darkened halls. I woke, entangled in my blankets, a scream hanging on my lips...and realized my comforter was between my legs.
And it was alone there.
Now all through this mess, I'd been holding out hope...even after I'd been diagnosed, little Myrc had still been there, loud and proud so to speak. Throughout the shrinking, the hair growth in obvious and embarrassing places (aqua colored, of course), and the general lack of muscle, my little soldier had been there, through it all, as the only thing not changed. I'd realized this was going to happen, especially after last night, but so fast? Even though alone, I surreptitiously checked myself...pubic hair, vulva, labia, clitoris. Yep, brand new anatomy, over night.
I didn't realize I was hyperventilating until Jeeves was there, Holding me gently but firmly and whispering things to me I only half understood. OK, I lied, wasn't even sure what language he was speaking...but it helped.
"OK, enough, let go of me please."
"Are you sure mistress Min? you still seem troubled."
"I am, but it won't get any better if I continue to fly apart. So how can you tell that I still seem troubled?"
"A combination of observing your heart rate and facial expressions, mistress."
"You can recognize those?"
"Yes, you did the programming yourself, mistress. I am sure the memory will resurface when needed. Are you ready for breakfast? I have a wonderful plate of Belgian waffles downstairs."
"I think I need to shower first, and find something to wear; rather do that before anyone comes to check on me."
"Of course mistress, I have taken the liberty of altering your previous clothing in order to properly fit you. I shall bring you a set."
"You sew?"
"I do mistress, however sewing was not the proper skill to use to properly outfit you; I had to resort to a gift ARNEE sent for you, for just this purpose."
"A gift? That alters clothes? Want to tell me what it is?"
"I cannot mistress, It is not permitted; I can say however that it had finite use, and is therefore empty. You will recall eventually, after all, it is your creation."
"Oh, yes, I suppose you're right...."
"Mistress, your shower. You should make haste."
"Oh! Right,"
I'd been so caught up in thinking about possible devices to alter clothes that I'd been standing out in the hall half naked; what the hell was wrong with me? I bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door, almost leaping into the shower and flinging my stupid over sized shirt behind me.
However, it didn't take long to convince me to slow down. It took me awhile to wake up...much longer than normal; but once I did I realized my hair, my now fully eye matching aqua hair, was now down to my butt. Just yesterday, I had a boy cut. Sighing, I looked for the soap. Hmm, odd. No soap at all, nor the usual shampoo; instead there was some sort of lilac smelling body wash for sensitive skin, and shampoo conditioner for extra body, also smelling of lilac. Neither had ever been seen in this house before, I was sure. There was also a brand new pink body washing pom pom thing, whatever those are called.
A soft knock I barely heard sounded on the door.
"That you Jeeves?"
"Yes Mistress Min. I have your clothing."
"OK, come in."
"I'll just place them next to the door, it may not be considered proper."
"Just a moment Jeeves; did you change the soap and shampoo in the bathroom?"
"Of course mistress Min; the soap would have been harsh to your new skin, and the shampoo will be much better for the altered pH of your hair. Please do use the new ones."
"Could you please let me know of any other such changes you would like to make in the future?"
"Of course mistress Min."
With my only other choice to go out smelling like...well, no idea what that smell was, but it was unpleasant, I used the body wash and shampoo. After taking far far too long to wash my stupid hair, I dried (gently of course, I learn), and cracked the door open. Good, no one here. I grabbed the small pile and darted back inside.
Why that...It was a dress! A grey goth Lolita style with black accents and lace, just like I'd see in one of Ricky's dumb animes; gloves, stockings, matching bra and panties, even boots. Where did that defective android get the idea that girls dressed like this?!? I put them on, not having any option. Admittedly, the bra took a minute, but I quickly grasped the concept of just reversing it around my waist then pulling it around and up. The dress was actually trickier; it buttoned in the back. Not seeing any option to handle that hurdle, I gave in.
"Jeeves, are you close?"
"Yes mistress Min, do you need assistance?"
"I need buttoned up as you well know, and we need to talk."
"Of course, mistress Min; I assume you are 'decent'?"
"Yes, come in."
He entered and I turned away from him.
"So where did you get your sense of style from? Are you aware that this is not what most females wear?"
"Why no mistress Min, I was not. Some of my education was rather limited. I learned most of what I know through my internet access while being built. There are a prevalence of images from women dressed such as you are now there."
Epic face palm. My android butler, the cos-play fan.
"I'm sorry if they are not to your liking mistress Min. Could you tell me if you feel any discomfort from them? The material was specifically designed for your physiology."
"They feel very comfortable at the moment; very soft."
"Min?" My mother...sigh was hoping to get coffee before she saw me like this.
"Jeeves here thought that I needed new clothes, so he converted mine...apparently he has warped ideas of what girls wear."
I still wasn't used to looking up to her.
"I see...well odd as it is, it looks really good on you. But, you really need to dry your hair and brush it out, hair that long can get terrible tangles."
"I need coffee first, desperately."
"I'll take care of it mistress Min." Jeeves strode back into the bathroom while we went downstairs.
I had just finished my first cup of coffee and was eying those Belgian waffles, complete with strawberries and blueberries set on the side, when Jeeves came into the kitchen with mom's blow dryer and a pink brush I'd never seen before in hand. He plugged it in next to the coffeepot.
"Please turn around and eat mistress Min."
My mom's eyebrows were hitting the ceiling; I shrugged and turned around.
"What? I don't want to deal with it; I want waffles. Come on mom, he's eccentric as heck, but once I work the bugs out, I'm sure he will be awesome. He made waffles!" I shoved the plate (now half empty) her way.
She started eating them rather distractedly, downing coffee while Jeeves dried and brushed my hair. OK I admit it, it felt pleasant. Once he was done however, he fiddled with my hair some more, and bound it behind me somehow. Mom snorted.
"Eccentric, huh?"
"What? What did he do?"
"He just tied your hair back with a ribbon; bow and all."
I cursed, drawing a very dirty look from mom.
"I set him straight for now, but he doesn't know any better; lack of data on how girls dress. You still intend we shop today?"
"Right after we take you back to Dr. Halleck. Pretty sure you'll need clothes."
"Good, we can get Jeeves his data so I don't look any worse."
"Hah, actually the look suits you."
We were both surprised by the camera flash; I turned to see Ian sporting mothers' old Kodak, waving a photo in the air.
"Ian you little worm!"
"Ha, who you calling little sis? You're tiny! Blackmail material!!!! woo!" He ran as soon as I got up.
"damn it, I didn't have anything else to wear! Come back here!"
"Minerva Myrciel Campbell!" Dread froze me; no child ever wants to hear their entire name from their mother.
"That's twice Min...another time, and you're eating soap. Now sit down."
"But..!"
"No, you cursed. That's your punishment; deal with it."
I sulked, nursing another cup of coffee.
"What was all the yelling?"
"Good morning father."
Never had I seen a such a look on my fathers' face before. It looked almost like amazement, but there was a certain amount of poleaxed deer in headlights mixed into it too.
"Min, what in the world..."
"It was all I had to wear! Jeeves turned my clothes into stuff like this. Hopefully this will be the last day I look this stupid, as well as the first."
"And you yelling at Ian was because..."
"He took pictures, the jerk!"
He stared at me a moment, before his eyes narrowed to their normal size and he grinned.
"one for the album, then."
"Father! If he gives it to you destroy it, or no waffles for you."
"Oh, waffles? Who made them, they don't look like your mom's work. Don't tell me you're cooking now?"
I snorted. "As if, Jeeves made them, and they are quite delicious."
He looked to mother for confirmation, and of course she nodded.
"Well then don't mind if I do; thank you Jeeves."
"You're quite welcome sir."
He chowed down in usual Campbell style; I was mildly surprised that no food flew anywhere.
"So Min...forgive me for asking this but um...how close are you?" She made a surreptitious gesture towards my slightly open legs, which I rapidly closed.
"I think I finished this morning, to be honest. I'm not entirely sure about internally."
My father choked.
"You alright father?"
He recovered quickly, with a thump on the back from Jeeves.
"I'm fine, I'm fine, I just didn't think it would be so soon. It keeps sneaking up on me. Thanks again Jeeves."
"No problem Mr. Campbell."
"I'm sorry father."
He was hugging me again. How could all these people keep catching me by surprise like that?
"No Min, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant this is all so sudden, it's hard to adjust. It's my fault not yours."
"Sudden, and hard to adjust? You should try this side of things. Oh, to glaringly change the subject; I can fix the 'cuda to working condition if you want. I need to build something first, but I could possibly get it running in 3 days."
"No odd modifications? Just the basic car?"
"Of course, as you requested; just the engine, rebuilt to the original 1973 specifications."
"If you're sure."
"Absolutely; Ian get in here and eat these waffles before I do!"
The jerkbag in question slinked back into the kitchen like a whipped puppy. I wordlessly handed him the plate and my best glare. He dug in.
"We will be late Ian, I trust you can see yourself to school?"
"Mom, I'm not a baby."
"Sure you aren't. Well there is a plate in the fridge for dinner, but I don't expect us to be gone that long; if we are, I'll call."
"No problem, I'll be here."
"Ready Min? Let's leave these losers to do the dishes."
"I'm in! Run, before they get wise! Let's go Jeeves!"
I was out the door before they processed the words, and in the Durango before they could protest. By the time Mother joined me in front, Jeeves was in the back and I was surfing the web on my phone.
"Min, you jumped the gun a bit, I'd like you to go and get all those schematics you drew for X-ray's inspection, it could help. We are going to do a full powers testing if possible today."
"Jeeves, would you please go get them for me?" OK, so I didn't want to be bothered, I had an idea to use this web app to access my laptop from anywhere using the IP....
"Of course Mistress Min."
"What are you doing?"
"Oh I'm working on the phone's internet capabilities; I have an idea on how to access my laptop from the phone."
"You're programming on your phone?"
"Um, sure, shouldn't I be?"
"If you can, just try not to ruin either device..."
"Yes I know, I won't get another. I'll be good."
"Honey, can you look at me, please?"
I sighed and looked.
"It's very rude to not look me when I'm talking to you, try not to do it again, OK?"
"I'm sorry, mother, it's just, this program needs finishing. I didn't mean anything by it."
Jeeves came back with the requested documents and we both quieted, lost in our own worlds. I'd sneak glances every now and again, convinced she was angry. I hope I can make it up to her. Maybe if...
"Honey? Honey, we're here."
"Huh? Oh sorry, was thinking about stuff. Here already huh? Time flies I guess."
I saved the file on my phone and set it to vibrate, then realized I had no pockets to put it in.
"Jeeves, can you put this in your pocket for me?"
"Of course Mistress Min."
I looked around. Just excellent, everyone was giving me the hairy eyeball. Literally everyone was looking at me, some were even whispering and pointing! Stupid dress! I wanted to run or find a large coat to hide in or something.
"Steady Min, don't worry about them, you look fine."
"I wish I had a trench coat or something, they are all staring at me."
"It's OK, let them stare. You look great."
"Can we just hurry please?"
We suited actions to my words, and were soon in the hospital; however we had to wait in the waiting room for 15 torturous minutes. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs to get them to stop staring at me. Of course, that would be counter productive. Instead I just shrank into my seat and ignored the stares by reclaiming and continuing the work on my phone. Silly phone processor limited my options, but I wouldn't give up!
"Minerva Campbell?"
I looked up to see the nurse standing over me. Crap. Back to the real world. I got up to follow her, and she still towered over me; grrr. Of course she also had a few inches on mother; for some odd reason that made me feel better. Back into the office with the odd machinery again. It was still set up in the same corner as last week. X-ray, in the same beaten and slightly singed lab coat, (I think the singes were new), Dr. Halleck, and a woman who looked vaguely familiar, around Dr hallecks' age. She also towered over both Campbells present. Dr. Halleck started off.
"Morning, Minerva, is it now? You remember my wife Dorothy?"
I did, Dr. Dorothy Halleck, psychologist and general practitioner...a very smart lady as I recalled. She handled all the female clientele of the Halleck practice.
"I do now, good morning, and how are you, DR's Halleck?"
"We are both well dear, thank you for asking. So, for the million dollar question; how are you?"
I sent a rather pointed look at their resident geek.
"I'd be a lot better if everyone would stop staring. This was all I had to wear here, quit gawking already!"
X-ray snapped out of it and wilted under my glare.
"Sorry Minerva, but you just caught me by surprise is all."
"Never mind him dear, he's an idiot. So lets get started shall we? We have a long day ahead. I'll help you get ready for the machine; everyone else, kindly get out."
I liked her already.
"Not quite yet; everyone, this is Jeeves. Jeeves, Dr. Emmanuel Halleck, his wife Dorothy Halleck, and X-ray, a devisor friend of theirs."
"Pleased to meet you Jeeves, I hate to be abrupt, but we need to get things done. They can get acquainted outside."
"It is no problem at all ma'am; as always Mistress Min, I will be within vocal range."
Once the door shut Dorothy motioned for me to undress, helping me with the buttons.
"Mistress Min? What is all that about?"
"Jeeves is a butler of sorts, I made him. He's a bit buggy but he means well."
So there might have been a bit of pride in my voice. I defy anyone to not be proud of building their very own android, no matter how buggy!
"hmm, is that so? What bugs have you noticed?" She asked as she started placing leads on me; I in the meantime put on a handy hospital gown.
"Well he is the one who converted all my clothes to this goth Lolita crap. Apparently he didn't have enough data on current fashions to know what a t-shirt and jeans were."
"Is that so? Well seems like an easy fix to make."
"Yes, I'm hopeful. He accepts my orders without question though, which is nice."
"Always is nice to find such loyalty in anything. Here, drink this; can't have you moving while in the machine, and you are pretty chipper."
I took it with trepidation; Sleeping all the time was getting old.
"Don't worry, It only lasts for an hour, maybe a bit longer for you. It's based on body weight."
Shaking the concern off, I downed the drug and climbed in. I wasn't entirely trusting however.
"Jeeves, please come back inside and watch over me."
The door opened.
"I am here Mistress Min."
"Good. Try to make sure X-ray doesn't take any nude pictures. Silly pedo bear."
"I will break him if he tries, mistress Min."
"Good." And I was out like the proverbial light.
I came out of it to all at once, with none of the grogginess one usually associates with anesthetics.
"Safe to come out?"
"One moment Mistress Min."
I heard miscellaneous noises one expects to hear if a bunch of people shuffle out of a room.
"It's safe now, dear. One last thing has to happen before we go on to the next phase. By the way, call me Dorothy, I'd prefer it."
I crawled out to see that the doctors' examination bed had some sort of metal devices attached at the end, with straps. It looked like a medieval torture device.
"Um, no thanks, not into that sort of thing?"
"It's just a routine gynecological exam dear, nothing to be afraid of. I do this for your mother all the time."
"Just exactly what do you intend to do?"
"Dear...get up there. This needs to happen."
I wilted under her no nonsense tone. Sigh, the voice of authority. To take my mind off what I assumed was going to happen, I started asking questions.
"So, did X-ray say what the verdict was?"
"You appear to be healthy, aside from a rather severe form of anemia, for which you'll be receiving medication. We also suspect your eyes to be a little weak. We will be checking that shortly."
"Anything else I should know?"
"Yes. You're really not going to like this part."
I didn't.
After an exceedingly long time frame; possibly the longest minutes of my life,I was led by Dorothy down a hall to a nondescript elevator, taken down to a rather modern looking reinforced dungeon, and forced to wear some weird black body suit that had some sensors pasted on the outside and a fanny battery pack. I was of course subjected to the most inane small talk imaginable all the while; most of which I ignored or responded to in grunts and head shakes. I think I could almost prefer the dress, as while everything was covered I felt more exposed. I was then led to a largish room where there appeared to be an obstacle course set up. My mother and X-ray were nowhere to be found.
"So I feel the urge to make cat noises and steal valuable shiny things. Anyone else? Is there a tail on this stupid suit?"
"Yes, we know, no one actually likes those things,' Dr. Halleck responded. 'However they are necessary, as the suit monitors pulse, respiration, nervous system, and a few other bodily functions...as well as provides a small measure of protection."
"I need protection for this?"
He handed me a bike helmet. I handed him a glare.
"Where is my mother?"
"Talking over the machine results with X-ray. Take your position at the tape there. Ready?" He held up a stopwatch.
Sigh, today sucks. I nodded. At least I still had Jeeves watching over me.
"Go!"
The first part of the obstacle course was easy; standard basic training fare, and while I never played either sport, I knew the drill. Through the tires, under the bar, through the fake log, over the standalone wall, which was the first true obstacle. It took me two tries to get over that stupid wall, since I couldn't just jump and catch the top, and climbing the rope provided was difficult with noodle arms. The balance beam went a bit better, since even though it was a mere 5 centimeters across and 10 meters long, (roughly) I had no problem running across it.
Then I saw, in the last 3 steps of beam, the true horror. Another mini wall right at the end, with monkey bars on the other side. My mind kicked in, considering and discarding possibilities, and in the next step I decided to try something I never would have before. Before I would have simply slammed into the wall and then climbed over it...but slamming into something, especially chest first, proved a lot more painful recently. So I used the last step to twist and flip over the wall, rolling on top of it briefly before landing on top of the first bar, and running across. The next little hurdle, were hurdles.
I dropped off the last bar, twisted in mid air, and let my hands grab it on the way down to slow my descent, twisting again and sprinting. The first few hurdles were small, barely a jump at all, and I cleared those easily. The next several added height, a few centimeters at a time, till no matter what I did I couldn't clear them.
"Bypass them Min."
Next up was a simple long jump in a sand pit. Pretty obvious, and I wasted no time. I jumped, right foot leading, hit the sand and dug in, and promptly fell forward on my hands. Getting up I saw all these weaving boxing (speed?) bags, with a line in between them. I weaved between them with ease; being able to judge their arc was nice. I did not think about how much space there was between them relative to how much I would have had a week ago.
Now as anyone who has played baseball knows...a pneumatic pitching machine makes a distinctive sound; the load up and whirr before a pitch heads your way haunts many a players' nightmares. So when I heard that clunk and whirr I instantly dropped. I heard the ball sail through the space my head had occupied, and hit the wall before bouncing back at me; too much bounce for a baseball....
"What the hell?!?"
"Sorry Min, last part of the test. We have to know if you're precognitive, and that is the best way to test for it."
"I could have been hurt, you know; pretty sure my skull isn't super dense."
"Now you know why I insisted on the helmet. I'm sure you've already guessed, but that was a tennis ball. No real damage could be incurred. This way."
He led the way to the a door in back, Jeeves bringing up the rear.
I gave him another fish eye when he opened the door, motioned me through, and said: "Ladies first."
Dr. Halleck didn't annoy me that much, usually. Was he trying to?
I went through the door and it slammed behind me; It was armored on this side. I could hear both Jeeves and Dr. Halleck yell my name from the other side, and a faint pounding.
"Halt, mutant." You have got to be kidding me.
A 3 meter or so tall robot, looking vaguely like a walking marvel copyright infringement, unfolded itself from a niche in the hall and turned it's stupid looking head towards me. An intercom next to the door crackled.
"Min?!? Min! Somehow the security system activated, we can't get to you! You'll have to get the door open!"
"I think I'm going to be busy, Dr. Halleck." I responded, not sure he could hear me, keeping my eye on the bargain basement toys R us reject.
"The attack robot is on? Oh that's not good. listen Min it's set to kill intruders, you need to focus on opening the door, then i can shut it down through voice command!"
"not really an option at the moment."
All during our discussion the robot (and I use the term loosely) was getting closer. I could see the slightly armored power cable leading into the wall; hmm, a possibility...
The robot of course, had a laser; they always do. It popped out of it's arm, and that arm of course swung my way. The laser was of course too low powered to burn through the door. I had another idea while I dodged under it; sheesh was it slow! The servos running this thing made it seem like those manufacturing machines they now use to make cars.
"Hey Dr. Halleck, you still there?"
"Yes Min, you OK? Can you open the door?"
"Can you try your voice command through the intercom?"
"Yes of course! Sentinel, stop!" No lie...he actually called it a sentinel. I'd be laughing if it wasn't so serious. The trash receptacle did not stop however, instead taking a glacial aim again.
"You'll have to modulate your voice Dr. Halleck, the intercom is muffling it."
Hmm, speaking of glacial, what was cooling that laser? it wasn't a pulse model, and that coolant did not look like argon...
While Dr. Halleck cycled through different tones in an increasingly hysterical and ineffectual manner, I launched myself forward and wrapped myself onto the arm with the laser on it. I'd have to time this perfectly....As expected, the terribly slow robot threw an equally slow punch, which I avoided by simply dropping off its other arm. I took a kick for my trouble, getting me out of the danger zone for what happened next. The two broken ribs were a small price to pay.
I had made it punch it's own laser, rupturing the nitrogen gas coolant tank and causing that arm to freeze and break off. This also had the added benefit of exposing the wiring leading into the torso. Heavy gauge copper, of course; I can work with that. I charged again, leaping up remnants of the punching arm as it came at me again, showering me with shards of brittle alloy. I dropped around to the other side, grabbing onto the head while going fishing into the robots' shoulder with the other.
With the punching arm too short to get to me, the sentinel resorted to trying to fling me off by swinging around. I flew of course; weighing nothing at all, but not before I had twisted two crucial wires together...the power leads to the laser. This in turn shorted out the transformer in the torso that was being used to convert the power from the cable in the wall. I slammed into the wall, both stars and electricity dancing in my vision as the robot finally decided to shut down.
Shaking it off, I went to the door. A simple enough bypass, once I got the hatch off...I could have likely done it before the robot shot at me. If I hadn't been pissed off about the obvious set up.
"Min, are you OK?!?"
"Dr Halleck, I am less than happy with you right now."
Jeeves almost shoved Dr. Halleck aside in order to reach me, slipping an arm under mine and shooting lab coated Judas a glare even worse than mine. His tone to me though, was tender.
"You're hurt; two broken ribs, a mild concussion, and a torn right deltoid. Should I carry you?"
"No, I can walk, but I won't turn down some help. you should see the other guy." I pointed behind me.
The good Doctor was already looking at the mess, shock and on his face.
"You..broke him. No, worse, you totally trashed him! All you had to do was bypass the door and I could have shut him off!"
"Don't lie to me, Dr. Halleck, you could have shut him off any time. A more obvious set up you couldn't have made. Yes I broke him, and I'd do it again. If you had just told me about this, I would have done as you asked. I detest being lied to."
"The test was check you for devisor talent strength; it usually takes a high talent as a devisor to crack that door. You just displayed both the talents we are testing for however, for only a high level gadgeteer could think of a way to disable the sentinel so quickly as well. Which means the last test won't be necessary."
"What was the last test?"
"Disarming a nuclear device."
"...What? You have a nuke here?"
"A fake one, of course. The simulations must be as real as possible to encourage people to take them seriously."
"Of course."
We reached the end of the hall, through a room where a miniature fat boy was located. Dr. Halleck passed it without so much as a glance. At the other end we entered a control room of sorts, and I entered my mother's crushing hug.
"Oh thank god you're OK!"
"Mother...Ribs."
"Ohmigod I'm so sorry! Are they broken?"
"I'll heal, I regenerate, remember?"
I looked past her to Dorothy and X-ray, spotting two people I didn't know behind them both. The first was a kind of grungy looking guy with a 5 o clock shadow, dirty blonde hair, and a weather beaten face. Perhaps 5 ft 10 in and medium build, currently fiddling with a zippo lighter. The second, was a bit over 6 ft, and pretty much a wall of muscle, reminding me quite a bit of my father save for his skin and hair color; both a rather nice dark mocha shade. He was wearing a pinstriped suit a few shades lighter than the first.
"So what's the verdict? do I pass? And who are the suits?"
They took their cue.
"Hello Ms. Campbell, I'm agent Leonard Sands, Mutant Commission Office. I'm a friend of X-ray's he brought in for this case."
"I'm Terrance Douglas, Central Intelligence Agency, and a friend of your family." They both flashed badges at me.
"Mother, they telling the truth?"
"Yes honey, they both are, I've known Terrence since your father served with him, and I know of Mr. Sands...he has a bit of a rebel reputation for the M.C.O.
"What she means is, in almost 30 cases since I started working for the M.C.O., not a single mutant I've been assigned to watch and evaluate has ever disappeared under mysterious circumstances."
"Bet that makes your superiors happy. So, my results?"
X-ray took over while I watched the suits and tried to look menacing; I knew I failed when they both gave me reassuring seeming smiles, both of which seemed mildly creepy. Jeeves moved a bit in front of me.
"Devisor 5, Gadgeteer 5,regen 2 EX 3; limited. You're the classic mad scientist type, you can build most anything, modify most anything, and happen to be very intelligent. The EX stands for Exemplar, it's basically a fancy way of saying you're superhuman in some way. In your case, it's your intelligence, memory, and your agility. You are fairly fast and agile, perhaps even olympic levels, and your muscles are extremely efficient."
"But not nearly enough muscle there to make a good difference...That's it? no flying, or eye beams, or mind bullets? Sheesh, All I really got was the compulsion to take things apart and a medical condition?"
Dang, me and Ralph had much more in common than I thought!
"It's not as bad as all that, devisors can do many amazing things." I rolled my eyes.
"sure like build giant walking cliches to torment people with. I'm so glad I broke your toy."
"How did you know I built it?"
"Oh come on, it has your signature all over it. Deny it if you can."
If he didn't know how easy it was to spot his silly tech, I wasn't going to tell him.
"I won't deny it, but I will ask why you found it necessary to completely destroy him rather than simply open the door."
"Your obvious set up pissed me off; so you pay in nerd tears, mothers' friend or not. By the way mother dear, they couldn't have set me up without your help...so I owe you one."
"I won't deny it honey, I'm sorry. It really is the only way to find out what you're capable of. Just please be gentler on me than I was on you."
"Ahem, well I hate to interrupt but, could you stand up straight?"
I stood up looking warily at X-ray, who had an odd looking box with a lens in front and a plastic card hanging out of the right side. A flash later and I was blinking my eyes.
"There you go, one state ID complete with picture, made to order."
"There is one last thing,' Leonard interrupted. 'all these files are going to be stored in both the CIA and MCO databases. We are your buffers to both agencies, everything will come and go through us. In order to ensure this, it's tradition that all files be given a nickname, such as Champion or X-ray here."
"A superhero moniker huh?"
"Something like that. You don't have to pick right away..."
"Mneme."
"Huh?"
I shrugged.
"Mneme, pronounced neem...the muse of memory and knowledge. I read it somewhere. It's rather esoteric, so I doubt that it's taken by anyone."
"Uh..OK. Noted, and now the papers are processed. Now I don't normally do this, but I'm going to explain what it is I do. It's my job as a field agent to watch newly emerging mutants for any signs of going off the rails...insanity, rampant criminal behavior, etcetera. So if you build a machine to run around killing people or make a giant laser to carve your name into the moon, I'll be right there to stop you; understood?"
"Absolutely, since I have no desire to do any of those things, I should never see you again, right?"
"Err, not quite, I'll be checking up on you quite often, perhaps even following you around some."
"Don't worry, kid;' Terrence interrupted. 'my job is to watch Leonard here; any shenanigans and I'll disappear him. I or my partner, who couldn't be here today, will be pretty much following you all the time, for your protection. wouldn't do to let a Campbell fall to a bad end."
"Mr. Douglas, that would be so much more reassuring if you didn't work for the CIA...but I'll take what I can get."
Dorothy spoke up.
"alright dear, let's get you cleaned up, the showers are this way, and I have your clothes waiting."
"Good, can't wait to get out of this stupid thing."
Jeeves followed us down the hall, of course, and I don't blame his lack of trust. Once out of earshot, Dorothy slowly leaned towards me and whispered:
"Just one more thing dear, I know you're doing the best you can, but take my card. Program the number into your phone, and if you want to, for any reason at all, even if it's just to talk, call me. It can help. I have to go for now, but I hope to hear from you soon. Be well."
"I will Dorothy, thanks."
Once I showered again, (Sheesh can that stupid suit make one sweat!) I followed the rather convenient signs back to the elevator, Jeeves in tow; I found mother waiting for me.
"So we're done here?"
"Yes honey, all done, now we can go shopping, unless you'd rather put it off?"
"No, lets just do it now, I'd rather get it done and over with." Seriously, this crap was cutting into the time I needed to build the 3D printer!
"How do you feel?"
"Tired and annoyed of course. My right side and head aches."
"I'll try and curb the natural instincts then. This shouldn't take more than a few hours."
A few hours? What the hell?!?
"Lets just check the measurements...let's see...."
Mother started shuffling through the pamphlet that X-ray had no doubt handed her.
"And the verdict is...weighing in at 95.8 pounds, as a 32c 20 32."
The facial tic under her right eye was new.
"Mother, you alright?"
"Min, do you know what those measurements mean?"
I took a shot in the dark.
"I'm really, really tiny?"
She shook her head and muttered something that sounded less than clean. I tried hard not to listen. No idea what she was on about.
At the door leading to blessed, blessed freedom, X-ray crouched like a four eyed gargoyle, waiting to pounce on the unwary. He had a bundle in his hands.
"I almost forgot something Min. Here, these are for you. Got to run, need to make another test robot. Don't be a stranger Mary."
The bundle turned out to be a light grey lab coat much like X-ray's, with many pockets and in my size, perhaps a trifle large. The second part was a small case in which a pair of thick lensed glasses with pale rose frames rested. I managed to make it till X-ray rounded the corner before bursting into tears.
"Honey what's wrong?" mother didn't quite hug me, no doubt fearing to aggravate my ribs. Jeeves crowded the other side.
"I'm fine mother, sorry...just kind of hit me again all at once."
How could I explain to her what those glasses and coat represented? In less than a week I had gone from all around cool guy (at least I thought I was)to useless nerd girl. So far the only thing useful to come out of this entire mess was Jeeves, and even he had bugs! Ugh, suck it up, 'min', tears are pointless. Life sucks and you deal. I pondered that statement while being helped into the Durango and all through the trip to the mall. Why did life have to suck? Could I at least save Ian from this, assuming he needed to be saved? What about any other people?
"Min, we're here." She reached over and stopped me, using a tissue to wipe my face before letting me go. Jeeves helped me out of the Durango before I could so much as swing my feet out.
"You plan on hovering like this all day?"
"Of course mistress Min. I'd also like to apologize for not stopping the incident at the hospital; I will not be so derelict in my duties again."
"It's fine, mother was right, it needed to happen. It was my own fault for not doing the expected. I will relish the look of utter desolation on X-ray's face though. No offense mother, but X-ray seems like a jerk."
"He can be; he has a tendency to miss the trees for the forest sometimes. Come on, in here."
I looked, to see the most dreaded of all stores...the Gap. At least we were an hour away from home; not very likely anyone would see me go in there, if they did I'd never live it down!
My slight hesitation had cost me, as while Jeeves had stopped when I had, mother was already inside grabbing clothes seemingly at random. If I didn't stop her, I'd have more clothes I'd never want to wear. Shaking my head at her, I started grabbing subdued shirts and jeans, noting the measurements.
"you'll have to try all of them on honey."
"What? Why? The measurements are proper."
"Not all female clothes are made the same; what is the right size for one isnt the right size for another. Besides, you really should be looking for petite."
She pointed at the stack of shirts I'd picked up. I meanwhile, was vaguely put off by her two armfuls of clothing.
"Alright, so I need to try all of this on?"
"Yep. The changing rooms are that way, and be sure to come out after each change so I can judge."
"Sigh."
Two hours and 3 shops later, Jeeves was carrying four bags stuffed to their respective brims with clothes, and mother was showing no signs of stopping.
"Mother, please...we both need food by this point."
She snapped out of her daze for a moment. Sheesh I hope I never get like that.
"You're right, your pick at the food court."
"Pizza of course, and in copious amounts."
By this time I was almost used to the stares...not. but I was doing my best to ignore them. The absolute creepiest were the old men...guys 30, 40 years old staring at me; one of them even licked his lips! I wasn't a steak! Though he might be a pedo bear....
"Min, what's the matter?"
"I should have changed out of the dress while shopping; I'm still getting all these creepy stares."
She shook her head and muttered again.
"Min, you know I love you right? About some things, you are completely clueless and I have no idea how that happened."
"Like what?"
"Oh no, if you don't know, I'm not going to tell you; more fun this way."
"...Whatever; Jeeves do you understand what she's talking about?"
"I am not at liberty to say mistress Min."
I narrowed my eyes.
"Why not?"
"I'm not at liberty to say why I'm not at liberty to say mistress Min."
Buggy piece of....
"That reminds me, how is your power state? You aren't low at all? You've been active quite awhile."
"I am at 64% capacity mistress Min, thank you for your concern. I shoud be able to maintain operational capacity for another 73.21 hours with this charge."
"Wow, I need to take a look at how I built your power supply. Magnetic capacitor isn't it?"
"In part. It is a double system consisting of a magnetic capacitor and electromagnetic motor."
"Hmm... I brought out my phone and started one of the apps I made.
"Min...finish your pizza, we have a few more places to go."
"Argh. Alright mother. Let's finish this torture, I have things to do."
"Torture is it? Heh he heh...just one last place to go."
We finished and she led me to Victoria's Secret.
"seriously?"
"You're allowed, being one of us. Stop forgetting."
She grabbed my arm and led me to a section with what were titled 'french cut panties', found my size and grabbed a few different packs in varied colors.
"Stay here."
That raised my eyebrows, and my hackles. But put I stayed.
She came back quickly enough, more packages in her hands.
"So what did you get?"
"Bras for the both of us, of course." She held them up...pretty innocuous, no frills types with colors matching the panties.
"This required me to stand here?"
"Jeeves would have been pretty out of place, you did make him to look male.
"Oh, true, true. So can we leave? I'm getting tired all of a sudden."
"Well I kinda lied; one more stop to go, but you can sit down at the food court and wait for me, I won't be long."
I sat and watched, Jeeves standing next to me.
"You can sit down you know."
"I think I'd rather stand close mistress Min, if you feel unwell."
"Alright, your call."
It was 20 minutes of people watching and a steadily increasing unease, before mother returned with a GNC bag.
"let me guess; iron?"
"Yep, iron, a few other new essentials for you."
I tried to stand up, weaving into Jeeves. He steadied me, and we walked out. Mother was trying to talk to me, but I couldn't really hear her; I was a bit busy trying not to pass out. Jeeves had to bundle me into the car.
"You still with us, Min?"
It took me some time to process the question, and I nodded in response. Sooo tired, too tired to speak. Jeeves let the seat back and hovered in my vision as I drifted off during the ride home.
"Min? Can you wake up Min?
I was sure I made some sort of noise; it was supposed to be a yes, but I felt like i was swimming in molasses. And then I was floating from the Durango to the house. I looked up into Jeeves' blue eyes as he looked down and smiled at me.
"It's alright mistress Min, I have you. Into the bed we go, to sleep, perchance to dream."
I drifted off peacefully, secure in the knowledge that Jeeves would be there.
I'm still here! Just hit a snag or two with real life. So, once again, usual disclaimers apply, and in this episode, we answer those burning car questions no one cares about.
I awoke slowly to softly playing music, some sort of pop in another language; and the smell of fresh coffee. I could feel my feet propped up on something soft and being massaged. turning my head a bit, I saw I was in my room, with coffee and coffee cakes on a tray next to my bed. Jeeves was lightly rubbing my feet. having propped them on his lap with a pillow.
"Good evening mistress Min. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, a bit tired. Passed out again, did I? I was hoping I was past that part."
"Unfortunately your fatigue and lost consciousness are the result of your rather severe anemia, A condition that can only be alleviated through medication. I have of course prepared the fist dose, it lies next to the coffee."
"And the massage?"
"Is it satisfactory? One of ways to decrease time spent unconscious for the human body is to stimulate the blood flow in the extremities, most often the feet."
"It feels very nice. I suppose you'll be angry if I say I dont want meds?"
"Absolutely furious, mistress Min. Besides, if you do not, how can we get the work done?"
"Crap, you're right, we need to build the printer!"
I sat up slowly, having learned my lesson, and grabbed the 4 pills hidden by the coffee cup in my earlier inspection. Putting them all in my mouth, I quickly downed the entire mug to wash them down, picking up a cake to chew on.
"What time is it?"
"It is 11:04 pm, roughly. Your family members are asleep, and we should endeavor not to wake them."
"Agreed. I assume this is part of a fresh pot?" I asked, holding up the mug
"It is, of course. The rest is in a caraffe in the kitchen, waiting for your use."
"Excellent. I should check my computer, the printer plans are on it."
I finally moved, swinging my legs away from Jeeves's tender ministrations and to the floor, crossing the room and allowing my lovely computer to scan my face. It opened and right there, still open, were the plans I needed. Unfortunately, they weren't entirely finished.
"Jeeves, can you work on the spigot and server apparatus? The schematic for those are done. I'll finish the mixing bin while you're doing that."
"Could you please oversee the operation mistress Min? I am fairly confident I can follow the plans, but I'd feel better if you were near."
I blinked, pulled out of my reverie by his plaintive tone.
"Oh, of course, I'll just bring the laptop with me. Could you bring the mug and cakes? those things are delicious."
"Of course, and thank you for the compliment mistress Min."
"Oh, you baked these?" I asked as I headed downstairs, laptop in hand and cord draped over my shoulders...I didn't want to be bothered packing it.
"Of course."
"I thought the pumpkin tasted fresh. Not quite the taste to go with coffee though I think?"
"I agree, but I have to work with what is available; strawberries are out of season."
I made it into the garage without any clumsy falls (thank goodness!) and set up at the workbench. Jeeves materialized beside me, filled coffee mug and cakes in hand. once he set those down, he took his coat off and grabbed my tools. We both got to work.
"Honey? You in here?"
I looked up, suddenly aware of my surroundings again; Jeeves was beside me, ratcheting a pesky bolt in the spigot frame apparatus. The schematics were complete, and I had an alternator in my hand which I was modifying. Mother was at the doorway, in her robe, watching with concern stamped on her face.
"I'm here, just woke up and decided to work on the machine I need to fix father's car. There any coffee left?"
"Yes, half a pot, I snagged some already. So what is this supposed to be?
"A three dimensional printer. Some scientists made a printer that can make 3 dimensional objects out of a special paper. I decided the concept could be used for much more than just inanimate objects, and much more than paper. So the idea is to make this, and have it print an engine, then just bolt the engine in."
"And it will make moving parts?"
"Well that is the theory involved. At worst I can simply print all the individual parts at once, then put the engine together, but that will take much more time. Provided it works, we could be able to save money on all kinds of things too, and just make out own."
"Oh I've no doubt it'll work, Have confidence. After all, it's built on a solid technological foundation, right?"
"Of course!"
"Why don't you put the tools down and have breakfast? Take a break?"
"Well, we are ahead of schedule...Jeeves let's take a break."
"Of course mistress Min. I'll make the breakfast mrs. Campbell, no need to trouble yourself."
"Alright Jeeves. What do you intend to make?"
"Eggs benidict, perhaps with some summer sausage on the side."
"Not sure we even have all the ingrediants for that."
"You do, I have a complete inventory of all kitchen supplies."
"All? Even the cookware?"
"Yes, of course. Proper tools make superior products."
"Coffee coffee coffee coffee...."
Straight to the coffee maker, ignoring the small talk.
"Mistress Min, please stop."
I turned to Jeeves.
"Why?"
"You should cease coffee consumption now, in order to better sleep. Please, help yourself to the apple cider I left for you in the refridgerator. I insist."
Grumbling, I headed towards the fridge instead. "you know, I really should open you up and fix you. You aren't the boss."
"I am not; however I worry about your health, and you have already spent all night working on your printer. And as you stated, we are ahead of schedule."
"Sigh, good point. But I don't feel tired at all."
"Then allow me to make a deal with you. drink one glass of the cider, then drink a mug of coffee; alternate between the two for me, please? The coffee is a well known diuretic, and you will need your fluids."
"Another good point; alright. Cider it is, this time. The plans are done at any rate; think you can handle the grunt work now?"
"I can finish the frame and spigot construction; however I think you will have to complete the mixing tank."
"Good morning Minerva, Jeeves, Mary."
"Good morning father. Coffee is fresh and breakfast is on the way."
"Nice; how are you all this morning?"
"Pretty good, I have the machine needed to fix your car on the workbench as we speak. The cuda should be ready to drive by monday, and Jeeves is making a breakfast I've never had before."
"Great. I was thinking, that since it's saturday, and I don't have to work, I'd show you how the basics of how to play that guitar."
"That would be wonderful father! Can we practice in the garage? It looks like it's going to be a wonderful day; We can leave the garage door open and enjoy it."
"Sure Min, sounds fine with me. Breakfast first though, calm down."
I stopped; I had been on the way upstairs to get the guitar.
"no need to look guilty Min, just first things first. Besides you still need to wash up and change clothes. that dress still looks great, but I assure you it needs washed."
Oh, crap; I didn't even notice I hadn't changed clothes. This dress was perhaps a bit too comfortable. I sat back down.
"Whoops. Oh well, like dad said, breakfast first. Speaking of, how long till breakfast?"
"An estimated 20 minutes for yours, mistress Min."
"Holy crap that is forever. Well I can always work a bit, if no one minds a computer at the table?"
"I don't really if you don't mind my nose in a paper; Mary?"
"I guess it's alright, after all, you are working on something for the family."
"Heh, right."
I wasn't about to tell her that what I was going to work on was the phone internet access protocol. What she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?
So I worked on my project, father worked on reading his paper, and mother worked on some needlepoint, until a biscuit looking thing with a weird sauce on it
was brought past my nose.
"Is that it? looks kind of like an egg mcmuffin to me, with a weird mayonaise on it."
"That is not too far from the truth, honey. Alright, computer off the table. You can set it on the counter there, it'll be safe."
I moved the laptop. Then looked around again.
"So how soon till the rest are done? I only see mine."
"The others' breakfasts are currently in the oven, an estimated time of 2 minutes between them all. I could not make them all concurrently."
"Ahh, I understand. I'm the lab rat then. Oh well, here goes..."
I took a small bite...and it tasted amazing. Very different than what I was used to, but an explosion of wonderful tastes nonetheless.
"You do amazing work Jeeves. I simply must look into where you got your chef training."
"The answer to all life's questions mistress Min; the internet."
"Ha! good one."
"Morning everyone!"
We all chorused a good morning to Ian, our resident saturday latecomer.
"...so that is what's for breakfast? Looks nasty."
"It's wonderful, just wait till you get yours."
I suited action to words, scarfing the treat down, much to mothers' unspoken but still palpable disapproval. She was eating hers at a more sedate pace. Father's had just arrived in front of him, and he was staring at it as skeptically as I had mine.
"So what do you plan to do today Ian?"
"Thought I'd go out. Feeling the urge to get some sun."
He caught my incredulous look.
"What? I do go out. Just not that often."
"Might go out later myself, been going a bit stir crazy myself, and yesterday doesn't really count in my opinion."
"If you do, make sure to take your phone."
"I will, Jeeves has it. Pretty sure he won't let me go anywhere alone in any event. At any rate, I'm done; may I be excused early? I'd like to change now."
"Sure, go clean up before you start stinking."
A reprieve! At least I wouldnt have to sit around doing nothing, or dishes.
"I'll meet you upstairs as soon as I finish breakfast mistress Min."
Oh, right...we had Jeeves for that now. Humming my way upstairs, I picked some clothes out of my closet; a pair of jeans that mother called 'low riders', some of the underwear we picked out, a set of basic black, and a grey tee shirt. Once in the bathroom I shut threw the clothes on the sink counter and shut the door. Then I realized I still had to unbutton this stupid dress.
"JEEVES! Get up here please."
I took him less than 20 seconds to knock on open the door.
"What is the matter, mistress Min?"
"I need help out of this stupid dress, of course."
"Ah. My apologies mistress Min."
"Yes, I tried to get them, but there is no give in the fabric."
He quickly unbuttoned me and took the ribbon from my hair.
"Will there be anything else mistress Min?"
"No, thank you. Sorry to have dragged you away from downstairs. I trust you didn't burn anything?"
"No mistress Min, I was just about to start dishes. I shall leave you now. Do not hesitate to call again should it be needful."
"...Alright."
He left and I locked the door, peeling the offending garment off and throwing it in the hamper.
A long liesurely shower later I was feeling a bit less disgusted with the entire situation. I left my hair loose and a bit damp, simply dressing. the jeans seemed to fit like another skin, and even with the tee shirt they left a little mid riff bare, but mother said that was the style, and I'd seen it around in school myself. Plus it was casual and would hold up to my engine work, should I choose to do more today. To complete the ensemble, I added the lab coat, as we had forgotten to buy a coat yesterday and while the fall weather was pleasant, it was also a bit chilly.
Glasses in hand, I hit the kitchen doorway looking for coffee. It was waiting for me, as was Jeeves, brush in hand. I quirked an eyebrow...he was too good at reading me. There had to be a trick to it. Mother had her needlepoint again, and father was finishing his paper, so I took that as my cue, retrieving my laptop and lettng it scan me (it had locked in sleep mode after 5 minutes) then putting my glasses on and sitting down. Jeeves started brushing my hair.
"Wow, sis. That scan thing was cool. So what are you working on?"
"the three dimensional printer, And a new internet protocol for cell phones, so I can access my laptop from mine and use it's processor and memory to work on things while away from it."
"Um...it's a laptop. Why not just carry it around?"
"some places I can't carry a laptop, whereas a phone would be acceptable."
I meant school of course, though the parents didn't need to know that. Pretty sure Ian figured it out.
"Just remember to keep it on vibrate honey, most place that frown on laptops also frown on loud rings."
I think mother knows...but doesn't care? How very odd.
"Sure thing. Now, father, teach me teach me teach me teach me teach me teach me."
"OK Min, sheesh. Go get your guitar and meet me in the garage."
"Be right there. Jeeves when you're done with the dishes, could you carry my laptop upstairs please?"
"Of course mistress Min."
I'm pretty sure I set a sprint record getting up to my room, then back to the garage...wonder I didn't run into anyone. But finally, I would be able to play an instrument! I was so pumped.
"Alright, here are the strings, top to bottom is E A D G B E....plucking thme with your pick there, with the other hand on the frets in concert, makes chords. You ideally want to chain the chords in such a way as to make people not want to flee screaming from you. In order to do that, you'll need to be able to read the music, or be able to play it by ear. So here is the music score for what I'm about to play. read it, and see if you can match the notes to what I'm playing."
"Alright. Go ahead."
the door was open, music flowed freely, and all was right with the world for several hours.
Mid afternoon, I had ditched my coat, and was playing my lovely new guitar, pacing up and down. My father and I had determined that I had an exceptional ear for music (I could hear it once, and knew which chords were which), and reading music was as gentle a breeze as the one caressing my face and moving my hair. Such a wonderful day! Then it all turned to ash as I spotted Ricky headed up the drive.
"Oh, shit! Dad, hide me!"
He grabbed my arm as I was about to bolt inside, the traiter.
"I don't think so Min, you'll need to do this sooner or later; might as well be now."
"Jeeves. a little help?"
"I think not mistress Min, I agree with your father."
"You're traiters, both of you." Crap, too late now.
"Myrc? Is that you? That is you, isn't it?"
"Yes it's me, Ricky...but I go by Minerva or Min now. How's your week been?"
"Pretty good. We've missed you at the game on thursday. Lost by 2 without our power forward."
"I've been rather occupied. Well this is a bit awkward. Take a good look at the new me, and get it out of your system. I'm done for today dad."
I no longer felt like playing anymore as Ricky did indeed gawk.
"come on, let's take a walk."
"OK."
We headed towards the park, Jeeves falling in behind us.
"So who is he?"
"That is just Jeeves, my butler."
"You rate a butler now?"
"Not really, but he's worried I'll keel over."
"What? you're still changing?"
"No, nothing of the sort. I finished yesterday. But this stupid body of mine got worse. I'm anemic now, which means I'm prone to passing out. No cool powers either. No flight, eyebeams, or mind bullets. The only thing cool to come from the entire thing is Jeeves."
"If I may interrupt mistress Min...your ability is your increased intelligence, which led to my construction."
"...What? Not sure I got that...but Min built you you say?"
"Yes, I built him Ricky, my amazing mutant power is the power to suddenly stroke off at odd times and build things in a type of sleepwalking daze. He's an android."
"That's actually pretty cool. Can you build more of them?"
I blinked.
"Yes, probably quite easily. Why? You want one?"
"My very own robot? Sure, who wouldn't?"
"Hmm, Never really thought about it. there might be a market for you Jeeves."
"Of course there is mistress Min, I am a marvel of modern technology."
"Ha! Good joke you suck up."
"....I don't get it."
"Of course not Ricky, it's an inside joke. I built him out of car parts and junk."
"Really?"
Ricky turned around and poked Jeeves in the arm, leading to both of us quirking amused eyebrows at him.
"So let's hit the park, I'd love to see something resembling nature at the moment. Then afterwards I'll show you my latest project, if you want."
"Sure. I'm fine with that."
There was silence for a few long moments as we soaked in the sunshine and fresh air. Then oh how rudely it was broken.
"So...are you really all girl?"
"I told you that already once Ricky. for pity's sake, yes I now have to sit down to pee. And before youo ask about that, yes it is very annoying."
"Sorry, my bad, it's just...kind of alot to deal with. We've known each other for years, and now you look completely different. It's alot for me to take in."
"I'll tell you what I told my dad; you should try looking at it from this angle. Let's go this way."
I had spotted the park's basketball court in use, by some fellow teens I knew. Ricky was bad enough, I really didn't want to deal with some of the more donkey-like members of our local student body. So I led my little troupe deeper into the small copse of trees our park sported.
"that reminds me, did you tell anyone about my condition during the school week?"
"I told enough, it's the talk of the school. Everyone knows by now or they live under a rock."
"Good, should make this coming monday at least a little easier."
"not so sure about that one, but here's hoping. So...guitar huh? Didn't think your dad was ever going to teach you."
"Me either; but he relented. At least one plus for me. I seem to be a natural."
We basked in each other's company for some time, weaving among the trees and once again enjoying the silence (at least I was; Ricky still looked somewhat uncomfortable).
"Ugh, enough of this. I don't bite you know, and I'm not contagious. Jeeves we still on schedule?"
"Yes mistress Min, we still have 41 minutes 23 seconds, estimated, before our actual progress meets the time projected."
"Good enough, time to go back. If you don't run off screaming Ricky, Ill show you what I'm making."
"Look Min, I'm sorry, it's just...."
"Save it please, just either follow or not. I don't need your apologies."
Once again awkward silence reigned what would have been an otherwise pleasant time. We made out way home without further incident; the park was fully deserted as we came back through, and while the streets were somewhat crowded, adults were no problem...they were at least halfway tactful in their stares and whispers. Or so I told myself, head held high and back straight. It was beginning to get chilly again however, so I hurried my steps, wanting my coat. I may not like X-ray much, but his choice in outerwear was dead on.
As soon as we reached the garage I threw that thing on, and let my computer scan my face. I pointed Ricky at the screen.
"that...is what I'm working on."
"Um...what is it?"
I looked again, and face palmed. Of course he couldn't read the schematic!
"It's a type of printer that prints objects. you put the material you want ot make the item out of here...and then these spigots run around spitting out small amounts of it in a programmed pattern which makes the object."
"Um, wow...sounds pretty space age."
"No, not really, It's current proven technology, I've just taken it one step further; mine should be able to make moving objects or objects of more than one part. Like for example, an engine for the 'cuda."
"Whoa...you mean this thing might actually move without being pushed in my lifetime?"
I grinned at him. "If I have anything to say about it, yes."
"Cool. So um, you're going to work on it now, right?"
"Yes, that is the plan. Jeeves, spigot 4 needs attached to the frame on that mid length axis, 22.4 percent angle."
"yes mistriss Min."
"Mind if I just take this seat here in the corner and watch out of the way?"
"If you're quiet, not really. Knock yourself out."
"Cool."
"OK Jeeves, coffee time. Please get a mountain dew for Ricky as well."
Tools in hand, I got to work.
Some time during that session, Ricky left...I couldn't say exactly when, or what he said if anything when he did. I know I muttered some kind of response when he did, but I don't think it was very coherant. But the important thing was the machine.
"Mistress Min, you should rest."
Jeeves was shaking me gently when I finally came back to myself, power screwdriver in hand. All at once the crushing fatigue of the day hit me. I blinked a bit, realizing the machine was almost complete.
"But Jeeves, We're almost done here! Barring any unfortunate setbacks, we can't be more than 2 hours away."
"I agree with your assesment mistress Min, but unfortunately you are at your limit. You must sleep. If you'd like, I can finish up the printer tonight in your stead. I can consult your laptop to finish it with your permission."
"Sure, go ahead. Though I reserve the right to look the thing over when I wake, to make sure. I'd rather not have it blow up on us."
"Of course mistress Min, but for now, let's get you to bed."
Jeeves escorted me throught the silent house, almost completely holding me up as we walked. It was after midnight, and everyone else had long since gone to sleep themselves. Once to my room, Jeeves handed me some powder blue flannel pajamas and left. I put the garments on, vaguely happy they weren't pink, each
movement making me exponentially more tired, as I crashed. These high and low spells did seem to be getting better though, at least I didn't just pass out on the floor.
Jeeves came back with an insulated travel mug full of chamomile, and tucked me in. I had to remember to tweak him, some of his behaviour was completely unacceptable....
"Mistress Min, please wake up, it is morning." Are you kidding me? Already?
"murrrghhh."
"Mistress Min, it is 6:30 am, your normal weekday wake up time."
"It's sunday Jeeves, what the hell?"
"I am aware; however keeping a proper sleep schedule is fundamental to your health."
"There had better be coffee within arm's reach, or I am going to fine tune you...with a crowbar."
"There is mistress Min, and I have good news. I finished the project last night."
"I expected no less. Any unforeseen problems?"
"None at all mistress Min, it awaits your showered and dressed presence for it's shakedown trial."
"Heh. got you...so what is for breakfast today?"
"Simplicity itself mistress Min, french toast, scrambled eggs, and sausage. It will be sitting in your usual place by the time you finish showering."
He left me to my thoughts, such as they were. I never had this much trouble waking up before; it must have something to do with my stupid blood. With that in mind I took the pills next to the coffee cup, threw them in my mouth and drank the coffee down. Hopefully enough of those would stabilize me. Grabbing another tee shirt and jeans I made my way to the bathroom. I'd been lucky lately, every time I wanted to shower in the morning, the bathroom had been empty; normally it was a 50/50 chance Ian was in, as the 'rents had their own bathroom off the master bedroom.
Today, a knock proved Ian was inside. And I dared not go in, for even though I'd seen it all before, I was a member of the enemy gender now, and I was sure just barging in would get objections. So I settled for the next best thing.
"Hey Ian, get your butt out of the bathroom, I need to go."
"Hold your horses, wench. Almost done."
"A wench am I? what, are we back in the days of gaslights run by whale oil now?"
"...huh?"
"Sterling commentary Ian, absolutely top notch. Don't forget to wash your hands now little brother, hate for you to catch something from yourself."
I heard some grumbling, then the sink tap turn on from my position against the door.
"So what is Ian doing this sunday?"
"Not much sis, thought I'd lounge around and play some halo."
"Hmm, almost sounds like fun...maybe I'll join you. Or maybe I'll try those games that came with my laptop."
The door opened so fast I almost fell.
"New games? PC games? Why didn't you say so?"
"Heh. Same old Ian." I dodged past him and into the bathroom, rapidly shedding clothes. After a quick seat on the toilet (still annoying!) I made sure to check the shower settings, as Ian had gotten me that way once, and I do learn. Readjusting it (he's so predictable) I took my shower and patted dry. I was sure Jeeves would want to mess with my hair again, so I left it mostly alone. and hit the stairs.
Sure enough breakfast was there, and so was Jeeves, brush in hand. I headed straight to the mug of coffee next to the plate, nodding to mom and dad.
"Well, is today the big day? We noticed you working very late last night."
"Yes, Jeeves finished the final adjustments. I plan to check it over, give the machine a shakedown then start it up. The 'cuda should have a working engine by tonight, father."
"That seems a bit fast, you sure?"
"Of course, early morning at the latest. It should be no problem at all, provided the printer works as expected."
"don't stress yourself honey, if you get tired, you stop today, alright?"
"Of course mother, I'll simply have Jeeves finish it, he proved capable enough last night."
I ate at a sedate pace, for once matching mother, rather than father. Jeeves toyed with my hair, and even Ian was quiet for once. A nice pleasant breakfast; at least until Ian looked at me and snorted.
"Ha, sis, you really need to fix Jeeves."
"What now? Jeeves what are you doing now?"
"I am braiding your hair mistress Min. You intend to do engine work today, I'd rather not see your hair get caught in any moving parts."
"There you go, perfectly good reason for it. Though I'm still not sure if I want to chop it off or not, Jeeves is thinking ahead."
"whatever you say sis."
"And on that note, shall we abscond to the garage and check Jeeves' work? Not that I don't trust you Jeeves, but I was thinking of a few last minute improvements we could implement..."
"The schedule, mistress Min. We must consider the schedule."
"True, once school starts back up monday I won't have much time at all for this. Oh well, just a few absolutely necessary ones then, won't take more than a few minutes."
I wasted no further time, opening my computer and checking the schematics against the reality. I made a few adjustments, pointing them out to Jeeves as I worked...a half a degree change on armature 4, a slight loosening of bolt 47 to make sure it had just a little give so the mixing tank could swing, some other small things. Then I started the diagnostic.
We all watched as the machine checked all its motors, flexing its armatures, turning the spigots on and off, rotating around it's object platform. Then my laptop beeped as it checked the connection to the printers CPU and the software required to run it. Not 2 minutes later it was done; everything had checked out perfectly fine and in the green.
"OK, it all checks out. Time to test it. Jeeves could you set the junk engine there?"
I got the engine specifications loaded while Jeeves picked up one of the junk engines father had brought me, a truck's V8 of some kind, and brought it close.
"Ready mistress Min?"
"All set, drop it in."
He heaved the engine, but as he neared the mixing tank flexed, the top lid opening into serrated metal jaws. With a weird extension,the jaws lifted up and snapped around the engine; Jeeves barely managed to get his arms out of the way.
I looked from the unflappable face of Jeeves to the awed shock of my family which I felt better represented my own expression.
"Ummm...it's not supposed to do that."
"Indeed, I'd advise not trying to directly place anything in the mixing tank, Campbell family. Mistress Min, you are not allowed within 8.2 feet of this tank unless the device is turned off."
"No arguments here."
I checked the laptop again. "Well at least the programming looks sound; it's already starting."
No sooner had I spoke then the mixing tank started churning, it's sides already beginning to glow with transferred heat.
"Minerva, what does the mixing tank use to generate that heat?"
"Nothing much father, just a boosted microwave convection; see the box off to the side?"
"...That was a microwave? Nevermind, my question is, is the tank capable of handling the type of temperatures its generating to melt steel? and the melted steel itself?"
"Of course it is father! I mean I know the mixing tank is a little disconcerting, but it should absolutely work to well past the tolerances we are using it for."
I brought up my calculations on the laptop.
"See? Triplechecked."
"...OK, if you're sure."
"Sure I'm sure! we can leave the machine to work if you'd rather; the hard part is done; now we just sit back and wait."
"Sounds good, your mom and I need to go for a bit again today, we should be back by noon. Um, could you leave Jeeves out here to make sure the house doesnt burn down or melt or something?"
"Have some faith! but yes I can, was planning on it anyway. Have fun! Going to go read or something."
I grabbed some coffee and went upstairs while everyone else filed back in, leaving Jeeves to his lonely fate. I started with my new algebra and calculus texts. I heard Ian booting up his xbox next door through the open doorways.
"Good luck in there Ian."
"Hah, luck is for people without skill sis, but thanks. Plan on joining me later?"
"Maybe, still thinking of some computer tinkering later. But for now, I want to make sure my integers are up to the tasks I need them for."
"Better you than me."
I buckled in, and hours passed. I was almost finished with the second text when I heard steps on the stairs. I could still hear the silly sounds of Halo, so I knew it wasn't Ian.
"Who's there? Jeeves that you?"
"Yes mistriss Min, I came to inform you that something seems to be wrong. The machine seems well behind schedule, and not performing properly."
"Oh crap, better check it."
I ran downstairs, passing Jeeves, visions of explosions dancing in my brain. What greeted me however, was far different. The three dimensional printer was working fine, it had already printed about an inch of material. I watched it work for a moment as Jeeves joined me. It was simply working too slow. The precision was there, but the time taken to achieve it was way below projections.
"Oh crap, I'm an idiot. I know what's wrong, be right back. Just keep making sure it doesn't go all TNT on us."
I ran back upstairs, grabbing some speakers, my headphones, and the game discs for the laptop and ran back downstairs. I set the speakers into the laptop and cranked them up, using itunes to create a playlist. Soon the strains of some nice remixes were floating through the air. I started loading one of the games "craft of war" on the lap while bopping along, setting the game sounds to filter directly to the headphones while Jeeves watched. Checking the programming through my laptop again, I confirmed what I'd half guessed. The introduction of the music had actually sped up the machine, and it was now responding 49% faster.
Jeeves said nothing, simply sitting down beside me and watching. Soon I was bopping to the music and moving little orcs around the screen, terrorizing the online world of Maisroth within the tutorial.
"What's with all the noise?" Ian yelled from the doorway.
"Nothing really, just the party is down here! Come in, and bring me some coffee! Your goddess demands coffee!"
"Whatever sis, coming."
He came back with the required sacrifice, looking around.
"So what's the deal? we starting a rave in the garage? Ansd since when do you actually listen to crap like that?"
I pointed behind me.
"...Holy shit sis; it's dancing!"
I looked again myself. The spigots were wheeling around each other, armatures weaving in and out; even the mixing tank was shifting in time.
"...Yes I guess it is."
I went back to the game.
"So that's normal?"
"...Why wouldn't it be?"
"...Right. So is this the new Craft of War game? I so wanted to play this when it came up, but my crappy PC wouldn't run it."
"Well mine will, so sit back, I'll let you take a turn in a bit."
After the tutorial I went straight to online multiplayer, making and moving my armies with reckless abandon. It did not take me long to understand the mechanics and basic strategies involved in the game. So I was climbing in the rankings fairly quickly. Oddly, Ian did not utter a single peep once I'd gotten going, preferring to watch me, apparently.
"Sure you don't want a turn?"
"Positive, watching you own these guys is pretty enjoyable. More coffee?"
"No, I can't, made a deal with Jeeves. Can you grab me some of the juice instead?"
"Sure, coming up."
The next game started as he came back with the juice.
"No, you should scout. take one of your little miner guys, and move him all around the map so you can see where your opponent is, and what he's building. Vision is very important in a game like this."
"Ah, and I just build another miner to mine, cause this one likely won't live."
"Yep, that's it."
"Seems harsh; that poor little guy, I want to see him make it back."
"Well I'm not saying don't try it. It's just not likely, and his information will save all kinds of lil guys of yours."
We played a bit more; at some point, Ricky had joined us. I didn't even notice untill he leaned over and said.
"So what's that one doing?"
"Oh he's casting unhallowed soil, to buff my ghouls and damage the other guys archers."
"Cool; Nice game."
"Yes, it's pretty fun. So what brings you over?"
"Just wanted to hang out; see what you were doing. Any more robots built after I left yesterday?"
"Nah, I did finish the printer though."
"Yep, I see that, it's just chugging away. Kind of weird seeing half an engine there though. I am assuming the mixing tank is supposed to be glowing and giving off heat waves like that?"
I minimized the game and checked.
"Well within tolerances. Jeeves?"
"All seems well, I am alert."
"Of course you are. All is well Ricky."
"Gotcha; you're getting attacked."
"Shit!"
I almost lost the game; as it was I lost half my city.
"So I heard you got the new shooter as part of your software pack."
I pointed on the workbench, where the paper sleeve containing said game could clearly be seen.
"That's going in next, right after I win this."
"Hey, Ian, could you go get that controller you have?"
"Real gamers QWERTY, wimp."
"Whatever shrimp; just get it."
I glared at Ricky a minute, and he had the good grace to catch on and shoot me an apologetic glance.
"Whatever, I won, installing this thing now."
I checked on the printer again while the computer loaded the game. All was in the green, though the mixing tankw as nearing yellow. I checked the temperature and reduced the microwave pulse width accordingly. Then I simply attached the controller Ian handed me and got out of the way.
"I'm going to get some more coffee; Jeeves you want anything?"
"No mistress Min, I conducted maintenence last night; I am fine. Thank you for asking though."
"Suit yourself. Be right back."
I brought back my coffee, and two mountain dews, which I set in front of the resident game zombies, then settled back to watch the fun. Ricky was truly so awful at shooters, it was inspiring. I mean, how could anyone do worse? At least it was entertaining to watch. After about an hour of this though, we were interrupted by a slightly pleasant yet also somehow slightly annoying 'ding!'.
"Mistress Min..."
"Right, it's done! Just needs to cool a bit on top, then we can throw it in."
Ian and Ricky just stared at me.
"A microwave chime sis? Really?"
"Sure why not? I mean, it was just lying there, and it serves the purpose, doesn't it?"
"No sense of style at all."
"Whatever. Break time is over. Time to get to work again."
I shut down the printer from my laptop and grabbed a socket wrench.
"time to pull an engine; you two want to help?"
"um, sure. Just tell us what to do."
"All you too really need to do is hold lights and tools and such; I don't want to get blamed if you screw something up. I'd rather get blamed if I screw up."
"Fair enough."
And so we got to work, Jeeves and I handling the heavy stuff (mostly Jeeves there, he'd simply lift the front end of the car, allowing me underneath) and Ricky and Ian on light and tool handling duty, repectively. Though I almost had them switch several times...Ricky dropped the light more than once. Not something you want to have happen at all. He was our team's best ball handler for pity's sake!
"Dinner time! We come bearing pasta!"
"We're in here, on our way! Jeeves could you do me a favor and finish up? I'd keep helping but pretty sure mom would drag me away. As for after, well..."
"You are fatigued; I know.' He approached me and lifted my face to meet his eyes. "I'd be happy to mistress Min, there is no need to feel guilty; I exist to serve you."
How could he do that? He always knew what I was thinking, and what to say.
"Thank you Jeeves, would you like me to leave the music on?"
"No, thank you mistress Min; I appreciate the thought, but you might need your laptop."
"Alright.let me know if there is something I can do to help."
I went inside and shut the door behind me, leaning against it.
"Something wrong honey? You look a little flustered." Mom looked up from placing plates on the table.
"No everything is fine; dad, your engine is done, Jeeves is finishing up the install now. It should be ready to drive by tomorrow, easily."
"That's great! No problems on that front?"
"no it's done, and it's being tested now. The old engine is pretty much out."
"Wow, faster than I expected."
From the garage we heard a nice throaty roar. I smiled.
"I do good work."
Seeing the look of unbridled joy on my father's face almost made the entire past week worthwhile. Almost.
"Can't celebrate quite yet father; it'll be around 4 more hours before the cuda is ready. But a working engine we do have. If you want you can speed up the process by helping Jeeves, but I intend to get some sleep. I feel quite tired again."
"that reminds me, next saturday we have an appointment with Dr. Halleck...a check up on your anemia, to determine if the medication is helping, or if more aggressive measures are necessary to get it under control."
"...Joy."
As is our family tradition, once the plates were set conversation stopped and we focused on chowing down. I tried to emulate my mother this time, taking smaller bites, not resting my arms on the table. This earned a nod of approval as father and Ian pigged out, oblivious. As soon as I finished, Mother made shooing motions at me. I did not argue.
Instead I stuck my tongue out at Ian in passing, knowing he'd be the one to do dishes, and made my way to my room, shedded my clothes, and buried myself in covers, dreading what morning would bring.
"Mistress Min, time to wake and ready yourself for school."
I rolled over to see Jeeves smiling at me with a tray of coffee and croissants, both still steaming.
"I'm afraid I'm sick; you'd better call in for me."
He set the tray down and felt my head with the back of his hand, in a time honored tradition. I really shouldn't have built that sensor in there...
"Mistress Min, other than a slight blood pressure differential, you are within tolerances. I refuse to call the school for you. Please get ready for school."
"Traitor." I dubbed him as he left, no doubt to ready breakfast for everyone else. I fired up my laptop while chewing, checking the latest news.
Sigh. I really did not want to do this.
"Min? Better get ready."
"Don't suppose I can convince you that I'm sick mom?"
"Not a chance, I already spoke to Jeeves. It won't be as bad as you think honey, I promise."
"sigh. Alright, this is me getting ready. How's the weather look?"
"You might need a jacket, but it's sunny out. you should be fine with just a tee shirt later if you want."
"I do want; plain clothes are the order of the day.' I grabbed some, suiting action to my words. 'Seen what Jeeves did to my old clothes yet? You should look in my closet; it's positively shocking."
"Well since you invited me, I might. Got to admit he cooks a mean breakfast though."
"Alright well jeans and tee it is then. I'll be right down."
I beat Ian to the door barely, and gave him the finger as I closed and locked it. He seemed a bit surprised, but let it pass. After a quick shower to wake up (relatively, this stupid hair was longer than ever, and this body seemed to be getting more sensitive each day.) I dressed and made my way downstairs for more coffee. Jeeves was waiting, brush in hand next to my usual spot, a steaming cup of bliss waiting for me.
Next to the steaming cup of bliss, which I took and sipped, were papers. The school identity of one Minerva Campbell, age 14, to be exact.
"You don't mind dropping those off do you? I need to do some errands today."
"No problem, I've got it."
I checked my clock inset on the microwave. It showed that the time was nigh, and the sword of Damocles was set to drop. Jeeves finished making breakfast for everyone else just before Ian appeared, looking far too chipper for a morning.
"Good morning loving family! what's up?"
"You are Ian, please have some sympathy for those of us that aren't yet."
"But you're upright and everything sis."
"It's a foul and odious lie."
"Whatever. Thanks Jeeves, looks great." Chewing loudly on a croissant he sat down, looking over at the stack of papers.
"You're going to be bored out of your skull sis."
"Oh, like I'm not bored to death in school already? You're talking to the person that championed the 'sleeping hall' idea."
"Never you mind, you'll see."
I dragged my feet some more, glancing between my apparently unconcerned parents until Jeeves snapped me out of it.
"It is time to leave mistress Min. If you wait any longer, you might not arrive on time."
"Ugh, OK."
I got up to leave; Jeeves already had my book bag, but did not hand it over. I arched my eyebrow at him.
"I shall of course accompany you to make sure you come to no harm."
I looked to my parents. Neither had looked up from their morning reading.
"Whatever, let's go then."
I led the way out into the sunshine, which contrasted the bitter chill nicely. In two steps I had turned around, only to find Jeeves handing me my lab coat, which I would have sworn hadn't been in his hands before. Shrugging, I put it on. Jeeves cleared his throat as I turned around. I looked back to see my glasses in his outstretched hand. After a short non verbal battle of wills, I took those as well, and put them on.
Ricky was waiting for me at the usual corner, ball in hands and looking kind of lost.
"You OK? You seem a bit out of it."
"Yeah I'm fine, you're just a bit late is all."
"Blame this joker,' I pointed at Jeeves. 'I do." Yes I knew that wasn't fair, but Jeeves took it in silence, as expected.
"Heh, what did he do, forget the coffee?"
"Something like that. Oh, before I forget, here."
I handed over the CD I'd had Jeeves make during the night.
"What's this?" He took it, admiring the cover art that Jeeves had made for it.
"That is Avenged Sevenfold, as requested. Things got a bit hectic around the old homestead, but I did not forget."
"Awesome, thanks man, I really appreciate it."
We walked along in a somewhat awkward but somewhat comfortable silence, interspersed with the staccato drumming of ball to pavement. I stopped as the school came into view, not realizing it till I felt Jeeves's gentle hands clasp my shoulders, starting me moving again. His breath tickled my ear.
"There is nothing to fear, mistress Min. I will not let them hurt you."
I steeled myself and walked up, following Ricky and maybe hiding behind him a little. I noticed I wasn't really late, the first bell was still maybe 5 minutes off, but everyone already seemed to be here. No parking spaces in the small lot, and what looked to be every kid in town just casually hanging out at the front door. I set myself and walked past the whispering crowd. I could pick out a few snippets, but nothing concrete or damning:
"Can you believe it? Shes..."
"Is she really Myrc?"
"What the...no way!"
Head held high, I ignored everyone till I reached the door proper, there the principal himself, Mr Macenroe was waiting.
"Good morning Minerva, how are you today?"
"I've been better Mr McEnroe, and yourself? What brings you to the front door to mingle with the hoi piloi?"
"Well I'm afraid it's about Jeeves. Since he isn't related to you, and not a listed guardian, we can't let him in...he will have to leave school grounds."
I took in his apologetic face, trying to keep my heart from jumping out of my mouth and running off back down the street.
"It is alright mistress Min, The day is pleasant, I will wait outside. Excuse me Mr McEnroe is it not? Those rules do not apply to catered or delivered meals do they?"
"No Jeeves they do not, we typically have some meal deliveries from some people who don't like our cafeteria, and some students leave to get take out as well."
"Then I will see you at lunch mistress Min."
He took my hand and kissed it farewell, whispering; "If you need me, simply call...I will be near." And he walked off, amid more whispers.
"Alright, Mr McEnroe, could you please take these? they are headed to you anyway."
I handed him the paperwork from my coat, and grabbed the book bag Jeeves was forced to leave.
"Sure, I'll see they get filed. Welcome back Minerva."
I waved at him as I walked past, not really trusting myself to speak. I had really hoped Jeeves could have simply stood in back, watching me, ready to bust me out of this madhouse at a word. Sigh. Oh well, first class of the day. I saw at our customary table a kite that looked suspiciously like something I'd made sitting on it, with a large A stuck to it with tape. When had I...?
"Hey. You got us an A after all, I didn't think that helicopter kite would fly at all." Ricky stated walking in.
"I honestly don't remember making it, or giving it to you...but I must have."
"Yeah you were still pretty out of it. But it worked like a charm, the slightest breeze started the rotors, which made it all but fly."
"I don't doubt it at all, it's all proven technology."
I stared at the stylized sharks maw fondly. The paper rotor blades were in the teeth. The rest of the class filed in as I set it aside. their own faces mainly filled with varying degrees of dismay as they took in their own project grades. I looked away before I could reasonably be considered to have made eye contact with anyone.
"good morning class, as you can see your final grades for last week's lab are completed; I was pleasantly surprised by many of you. Ah, miss Campbell, welcome back. I was most pleased with your project. The straws for inner struts were inspired."
"thank you sir, pleased to be back."
Hey a little white lie never hurt anyone, right?
"Alright class, settle down. To begin the week, we will now look at fish. Guess you all know what that means for lab on Wednesday, right? To start, anyone know what adaptations make fish at home underwater?"
...and cue boring lecture. Rather than deal with that I decided to just read my textbook; after all it couldn't be more boring than Mr Welsh, right? Right? And somehow it wasn't. I admit I got lost in a world of fish adaptations for a time...and I suspect Mr welsh saw what I was doing and just let me read. The real mystery was Ricky, who was quiet the entire hour. I'd look up to see him looking everywhere but at me.
The bell rang and I sighed, knowing I had so much more of this torture to go. I packed up to go and waited for everyone else to leave, only then moving myself. No sooner Had I taken a step outside then I was aware of the entire physics class loitering just outside, and a few more besides. Of course my math class was all the way at the other end of the hall.
In short, crap was about to hit the fan earlier than I had hoped but about when I expected, and I was screwed. Not letting the stomach butterflies pop out my mouth and ruin their rather obvious surprise, I strode towards my second class, also ignoring the assorted stampeding of the entire school behind me.
"OK, if you're going to be jerks about this, you should at least try to be a little more subtle...this is down right unprofessional." I said loudly without turning around.
"I see you finally went for it, eh Myrc?"
At least my accuser was who I thought it'd be. Good old Gordan, you can always depend on him. I turned around, and at least one of those with him was a mild surprise. I expected Bernard of the mutant hate train fame, but I didn't expect Pam on the other side of Gordon.
"Excuse me?"
"You finally go for the whole gay cross dressing thing, right fag?"
He couldn't. He couldn't possibly be this stupid.
"I look like a cross dresser? You!" I pointed to someone I vaguely knew.
"Harry, do I look like I'm cross dressing to you?"
Gordon slammed me into the lockers to my left painfully, knocking the wind from me and rapping my skull...I sagged onto him.
"Don't twist my words freak! Don't think I won't kick your ass cause you look like a girl!"
"Idiot, I AM a girl!' I wheezed. 'Furthermore if I ever was gay I can't possibly be any more, I can only be straight or a lesbian! You win OK? I can't fight you like this. So do your worst!"
When He let go I fell of course, and was just starting to look up into his shell shocked face when Ricky plowed directly into Gordon with a tackle that would make 'Flash' himself proud. I had never seen him so pissed. I swear I heard bones break as Ricky pounded away like a piston, battering Gordon multiple times before Bernard pulled him off.
I blearily looked around, noting faces as the teachers finally waded through, pulling the two combatants apart.
"hey you OK?"
"been better Margaret, how are you?"
Margaret 'Maggie' Johnson, a rather tall willowy brunette who fancied herself a journalist offered her hand, concern writ on her face in neon, helped me up.
"Thanks."
I turned to Mr welsh, who was basically sitting on Ricky.
"Sir, he defended me, I'd appreciate it if you'd let him up."
Mr welsh warily complied, asking the crowd in general and me in particular:
"Alright so what happened?"
"Gordon attacked me sir, Ricky came to my defense." I blurted, aware now that I had tears, actual tears, leaving hot damning tracks down my cheeks.
Mr Welsh heaved a heavy sigh.
"Really flash? Even after the this morning's assembly?"
"That's not how it happened Mr Welsh!" Bernard yelled.
"then how did it happen Monty?"
"She punched first Mr welsh!"
Before I could get my outrage worked up to truly incandescent levels, my rage was derailed by the normally easygoing Mr. Welsh's biting words.
"Son, don't take me for a fool. Get out of here now, and pray I forget your possible involvment. Anyone want to tell me the truth?"
"Sir, it happened just as Minerva said. I saw the whole thing...and so did most everyone here."
Maggie, to my defense! I'll never call her a hack again! I turned to Ricky; he was already beginning to show evidence of taking a few shots to the face himself, and was cradling his right hand with his left. But as our eyes met he grinned, and I had to shake my head.
"Ricky I swear I can't take you anywhere."
"Sorry, you know me...any excuse at all for that bastard. think I got a date with our loving principal; see you in a bit."
"Yeah, don't forget the nurse too."
He waved as he left, escorted by Mr welsh and a fuming Gordon, all practiced nonchalance. Picking up my bookbag I heard Mr Welsh yell:
"Anyone still in the halls not named Campbell in one minute is late...Miss Campbell, take all the time you need; see the nurse if you feel the
need."
"Thank you sir, but I feel fine."
"Hey come on." Maggie said, yanking me to my feet rather easily; I think my feet left tile for a moment. Maybe Maggie was a mutant?
"Where do you want me to go?"
"Hey hey, it's nothing like that!" She leaned in close, allowing me a whiff of what smelled almost like...cinnamon?
"I just thought you'd like to clean up before class, you know."
"Ahh, good point I suppose...so what did Mr Welsh mean about an assembly? I didn't get any notice."
"Uuuhh well, I probably shouldn't say but you'll hear about it anyway, sooner or later. The assembly was basically about you. I mean, they didn't mention you by name exactly, but everyone sort of knew it was. Mr. McEnroe called an early morning assembly for 7:30 last Friday, and regaled us all with ideas on what the word tolerance meant. Specifically, tolerance for others who may be different, and those who may be less fortunate than others."
I groaned so hard it sounded like a monster prowling the halls.
"Just freaking great, wonder if he wants to unload the other barrel now?"
Then I saw where I was being led. The girl's restroom, den of potential evil and beatings. Maggie hadn't let go of my hand...and when I slowed (a natural response I think) she yanked on it again.
"Come on, even with Mr Welsh's blessing we need to hurry!"
"Um, I don't think..."
She turned, assuming a classic annoyed pose, leaning away from me, tapping her foot and arms crossed.
"What? It's pretty obvious by looking at you that you aren't faking at all, you aren't dressed up or anything. You can't seriously be thinking of holding it all day either."
"...Maybe?"
"Hah, no way girl, just wont happen. Come on, no one is going to object, they are all in class, remember?"
She grabbed my hand again, and pulled me inside.
The first thing I noticed was the smell...It was more pleasant then the men's room, but only barely. No urinals of course, a machine of some sort in the corner next to the hand dryers, sinks with large mirrors posted in front of them. The eggshell blue paint with pink accents was different though, and didn't really match the dirty white floor tiles. I looked carefully, there was indeed no one present save us.
"come on, come on!" Maggie stood in front of the first mirror, damp paper towels in hand.
"You get your face, ill get the dirt off your clothes, OK?"
"Um, sure."
I grabbed a towel or two and started wiping the tears off...thank goodness they weren't that noticeable. Maggie wiped my coat free of dirt (stain resistance for the win).
"Hold on a second, got a spider web or something on your jeans here." She yanked hard on my jeans, straightening them and wiping all the foreign substance away....whatever it was.
"So um, how did you get your hair braided like that? loose but with a ring holding it in place?"
"Hum? Oh Jeeves does it, no idea how."
"Drat, was hoping you could teach me, it looks amazing on you."
"Thanks, but It's really done that way cause Jeeves doesn't want me to cut it."
"That would be a crime, your hair is beautiful! So is Jeeves like your butler or something?"
"Something like that; he's new, I only got him last week. Knows all sorts of things though."
"Right, we'd better go. Come on!"
Again with the hand grabbing. Now she was running down the halls! I had to sprint or be dragged, but we made it to Mr Mullins' class. He didn't even bat an eye as we walked in late and sat down. But then I realized from my vantage, the blackboard was hazy and indistinct. Just great...I had lost my glasses then forgot about them!
"Hey." whispered Ralph from right next to me.
"What's up Ralph?"
"I believe these are yours." he whispered back, carefully looking away so as not to garner notice. He had my glasses, and they weren't broken! Whew"
"thanks Ralph, they are."
I carefully checked them over for scratches, and finding none put them on. Now I could make out the blackboard, mistakes and all. Well that was annoying, Mr Mullins had a 3 instead of a 2 for the solution. I turned to see Ralph looking at me, and remembered. Note passing time. I wrote it, rather astonished that my calligraphy had improved:
"You knew, didn't you?"
His note responded: "No, but I suspected; I'll explain later."
I nodded to him and turned to the blackboard once again, trying to focus. It was so odd...a week ago I'd be asleep, but I just couldn't calm down with that error glaring at me. It annoyed me to no end for some reason, and I just could not pin down why. The bell rang before I could figure it out.
This time I joined the throng quickly, hoping it'd be more difficult to single me out as a member of the herd. But as I passed the blackboard I quickly wrote that pesky 2 in it's proper place. There, harmony restored. Geography time, but this class I didn't have a book for, so I kept a wary eye out for assholes while pit stopping at my locker. I saw Maggie surrounded by a sea of girls and threw a hesitant wave as I passed, which she returned with a smile.
I was able to get to Geography without any further incidents thank goodness, sitting down and making myself as small as possible...which was pretty small. This was truly hostile territory; I had no friends of any stripe here.
Oddly enough that seemed to help, because other than feeling the entire rooms' worth of eyes on me in turns as a bunch of mini suns boring into my skin, the class passed uneventfully as we learned about Poland (continuing on our Rhine theme). It was a relief in a way, I was able to listen to Mrs. Carson drone and read. Soon this blissful solace ended, and I was faced with the class I'd been trying to forget: gym.
I didn't think I'd be allowed to participate at all, after all Ralph wasn't...but he was forced to sit in the Gym and watch while doing whatever it was he did, dodging the random 'accidental' ball thrown his direction; was that to be my fate?
I again did the vanish into the herd thing, only it didn't seem to be working very well; everyone was looking at me and whispering again; damn this hair! I didn't need to empathize with Ralph more! At the entrance to the Gym I saw someone I almost never had any contact with, assistant coach Ruth Howard, wife of coach Howard of basketball fame, and resident female coach handling pretty much all the teams that weren't coached by parents.
"Just who I wanted to see! good day to you Miss Campbell, unfortunately due to health concerns, yadda yadda yadda, you know what I'm getting at here, right?"
"Yes, I do, ride the bench cause you're afraid I'll go all crazy and kill everyone with my mad amazing skills?"
"Well actually, the opposite...you're anemic, you get a pass."
"sigh...I'd have liked it more if you'd told me the other thing."
"I know Minerva; look at it this way though...at least you can get all your homework done before you leave school. That's always a plus, right?"
"I suppose... Thanks anyway. Good luck with your charges today."
"Good luck with your homework."
I waved and sat on the bleachers, getting out my geography; only book I brought and longest read.
"Hey. Not there." Ralph, my partner in boredom?
"What do you mean?"
"Your in the first bleacher, a prime spot to have someone accidentally run over you or chuck balls at your head."
"The voice of depressing experience? Alright where do you normally hang out?"
"Around the side here, much harder to target you, they need to arc things, and they can't run over you."
"OK. So what do you normally do during gym?"
"Just hang out really, watch the fun from a safe seat."
"Sounds boring."
"Well there is something else I do, and you're going to find out anyway I think."
He pulled out an obviously lovingly crafted origami crane.
"Neat, so you learn to make these?"
"Yep...want to try?"
"Um, sure."
He handed me paper and a book. 'Origami for beginners'.
"You go ahead and pick want you want and go to work, I'm not much of a teacher."
"K."
And that it what occupied my time, I made sad mutant creations best left unspoken, but called frogs while Ralph made some
wonderful cranes from colored paper. When the bell rang I crumpled them up in disgust and threw them out.
"Sorry, I kind of wasted your paper. I'll bring you some more tomorrow."
"No problem, it's cheap enough. That last frog didn't look bad."
"Heh yes it did, no need to sugarcoat it, it was awful."
"These things can't be picked up immediately."
"I guess so...lunchtime. See you later."
Quickly leaving before I could get surrounded somehow, I made my way to the front door. No Jeeves, wonder I was kind of
expecting him here....
Wait, that was an arrow the exact color of my hair, pointing outside! Pretty sure that wasn't there before. Cautiously I followed it expecting Jeeves but ready for anything. Outside under a large maple tree, a somewhat sturdy folding table and cushioned chair were placed, with a covered plate, silverware, a bottle of something that might be wine, and a lit candle!
"Jeeves? Is all this your doing?"
"Mistress Min, welcome! Of course it is my doing. Is there something wrong with my choice of location?"
"No, no, it's fine. Your elaborate preparations just took me by surprise is all. So what's for lunch?"
"Salmon spinach feta quiche with sparkling white grape juice. I apologize for the beverage, but you're underage."
"Alright, I'll pretend I knew what you just said. I'm trusting you here."
He moved the chair for me, I sat and he adjusted it, then uncovered the plate. He poured a glass of the juice while I picked up my fork, playing the butler role to the hilt. Looking around I could see we had gained a small hesitant audience, mainly comprised of girls. Heh, they won't dare start anything with Jeeves here! I was safe.
"How has your day been mistress Min? Everything all right?"
"Could have gone better, but not that far from what I expected. Wow, this is really good! I thought when you said spinach I'd be spitting it out."
"Thank you for your high praise mistress Min."
I eyed him suspiciously...I could have sworn that was a joke, but he was straight faced as ever. Was he British somehow?
"You're welcome. I think I'll bring my lappy tomorrow, too much free time to use it since I'm being kicked out of gym."
He crouched next to me, looking me in the eye.
"I am sorry mistress Min, I know how much such activities meant to you."
Now why was my vision blurring again? Damn it!
"It's ok, not your fault...just life, that's all."
"You are of course correct. Am I correct in assuming you do not wish to be disturbed?"
"You are correct; why?"
"Several of your fellow student are approaching this position; I shall keep them from disturbing you."
I paused with the fork in my mouth.
"Nothing permanent, understand? No need to make enemies yet."
"Understood mistress Min."
I finished my lunch in peace as he dealt with the pack of girls swarming him, chattering animatedly. None of them were even glancing at me, which was good. Confusing, but good.
I finished with a good 5 minutes to spare, taking my time and enjoying the serenity. As soon as I started to move however Jeeves was there, pulling back my chair and helping me up.
"thank you Jeeves, everything was wonderful. Am I to assume you'll be at this spot tomorrow?"
"Circumstances permitting."
"I approve, it's a good spot. Well back to the grind, you'll be here when I get out?"
"I'll be waiting at the door mistress Min. As always, should you need me, please call."
"Alright. So, um...what are all of you guys doing here?" I asked as we caught up to the pack of my peers (?).
"Oh nothing, we were just talking to your butler. So what did he make you?"
"Spinach quiche; I'd recommend it. It was tasty."
"Come on or we'll all be late!"
My hand got grabbed again by someone I barely knew, but this time it was by Rebecca 'Becca' Hollingsworth, one of our cheerleaders. The tiny throng passed the doors as I looked back to Jeeves, who waved at me, smiling. what a traitor.
"Hey! relax. We aren't going to do anything to you."
The gang led me into the bastion of femininity named the ladies' bathroom. I found a wall to put my back to.
"Relax, relax...we aren't going to hurt you." Genine 'ne ne' Summerfield cut in while making calming gestures.
"then why...?"
"Two reasons; one, we noticed you were avoiding this place and you were getting rather...antsy, shall we say? And the other well, has to do with Jeeves. So get settled first and then we just want to talk, OK?"
Damn was it that obvious?
"Umm, OK."
I found the first stall and locked it, taking a breath.
"First thing Min; may I call you Min?"
"sure, I'd prefer it."
I took the paper and made a little seat ring (doesn't everyone?), unzipped and sat down. I half expected when I looked up to see them all staring over the top, but there was nothing of the sort. They weren't staring under the stall at me either, hmm. I finished up, cleaned up, and went out to wash my hands.
"So what gives?"
"Well we'd like to know about Jeeves."
"What about him?"
"where does he come from, how do you know him, things like that."
"Well he comes from junk. I have a mutant power; it's called devising. Basically its a fancy word for saying I build things. Jeeves is one of the first things I built."
"Ahhh I see."
I took them in, half the group looked crestfallen, the other half looked more intense, if anything.
"So wait, you built a handsome guy to do your every whim?"
"Well if you want to look at it that way...I'm not sure what I was thinking when I built him exactly, I don't always. Sometimes I enter a sort of trance when I'm about to build things; I think for him the idea was to build someone who could take care of me since my health is crap now."
I heard a few collective sighs, and Maggie jumped in.
"That's so cool! You have a real mutant power!"
"I know, not like that lame-o Ralph. love your new hair by the way, that shade is so beautiful."
Suddenly it was a dam broke to the twilight zone, and they were all whispering and gabbling like geese.
"Oh shit, we've got to move girls, bell in one! come on Min!"
"Study hall this hour, right Min?" Genine asked as we hurried out.
"Yep, you too if I remember. See you there!"
I put on the speed and left her behind weaving through the crowd to my locker and quickly grabbing the books I'd need. I made it just as the bell rang, as usual for me. Mr. Mullins didn't even bat an eye. the hour passed quickly, but by 3 minutes to go I'd had all my homework done...I'd tried to go slower, but I just couldn't. The bell rang and I flitted through the halls again, stowing my books and taking just my English text, a notebook, and my pen.
"Good to see you Miss Campbell." Mrs. Holmes greeted me as I walked into her class.
"your paper is on your desk...a very well constructed argument."
The paper I'd written last week, I'd forgotten about it! I turned it over as I sat down, staring at the A...such a high cost for something so simple, and I'd have been happy with it last week.
"Alright class, on to Hemmingway. The old man and the sea, you're all supposed to have it read, so let's discuss it."
I'd not gotten that message so I pointed to the book when Mrs Holmes eyes roved my way. She nodded, so I tuned everyone else out and started reading. In perhaps 20 minutes I joined the discussion, story read confident I could hold my own. (Such a sad story though.) And at last the final bell rang! Merciful freedom! I was out like a shot, so fast I almost missed Mrs. Holmes parting comment of:
"Report due on old man and the sea by Friday! 500 words, no less!"
And the assorted groans which followed. Taking one last quick stop at my locker, I grabbed my book bag, emptied it, and stuck just the English book and my notebooks inside then ran for the door. I ignored all the miscellaneous chatter and went straight to Jeeves.
"so did you see what happened to Ricky?"
"He was escorted into an ambulance and left. Were you involved in that mistress Min?"
"I might have been, indirectly."
"You are not injured, so I must assume you are telling the truth."
"That's how I heard it. Good afternoon Min."
Holy...!
I turned to see none other than Terry Douglas standing there, a rather attractive if blockish looking woman beside him.
"Don't DO that! You scared the hell out of me!"
"Sorry, sorry. May I introduce my partner Candice white?"
She obligingly flipped me her credentials, allowing me to verify them.
"He doesn't look sorry Mrs. White, Could you thrash him for me?"
"That's miss White, never married. And sure kid, I'll beat him once we're off duty. So how was the first day? Want anyone disappeared?"
"No, thanks. None of that please."
"Shes joking. You had us a bit worried though, you didn't even notice us this morning, just walked right by."
"Sorry, not a morning person. So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
"No visit kiddo, we're on duty. I just decided to break the agency character a bit and introduce my partner so you knew who she was. I did promise I'd do that, remember?"
"I do, so you're watching me now?"
"Sure are, and so is the neighborhood MCO." He pointed towards the school roof, where I could just barely make out a figure.
"that is Mr. Sands, of our recent mutual acquaintance. Wave to him."
We all waved.
"OK I'm done with all this for now, I just want to go home. This is been a strange and annoying day."
"don't mind if we stay close do you? we are obviously heading that way."
Candice punched Terry in the arm.
"Idiot, where is your professional pride? don't mind him Miss Campbell, hes overdue for our brainwashing."
"Minerva please, and I don't mind."
"No, can't hear of it, you'll see more of us, or one or the other of us....seems the director is too stingy to pay for two sets of field agents."
"Isn't that always the way of it?"
"Indeed; see you later Min."
I watched them walk off.
"So, you were aware of them the entire time, I hope?"
"I was mistress Min, they arrived within sensor range at 4;22 am and have followed you ever since, being no closer than 5 feet, and no farther than 329.7 feet."
"Well as long as you were aware, I'm fine with it."
A short silent walk later and I was finally home. Alone, as I'd beaten everyone else here.Normally I'd be practicing baseball or basketball, or playing, especially with my homework basically done, but I just didn't feel up to it. Ian was likely out having a ball.
"Are you alright Mistress Min?"
"I guess so Jeeves. Just tired."
There came that hand again.
"you're blood pressure is low; you are likely fatigued. I think a nap is in order."
without warning he picked me up, ignoring my protests, and carried me up to my bed. depositing me onto it he added:
"please do not move, just rest, I will be back shortly with a beverage."
Bossed around by my own robot butler! The nerve...! Well not like I could fight him, so rest I did.
I awoke to dim light; my desk lamp was on to provide illumination, but the sun had set. My sigh caused Jeeves to stir.
"How long?"
"Three hours, 23 minutes, 14 seconds mistress Min."
"Crap. So it's close to six, and I have homework to make up. I wanted to work on a few things."
"Just design them mistress Min, and I will be your hands while you sleep."
"That isn't nearly as much fun, and would still take more time than I will have tonight besides. Did I miss dinner?"
"You did. Would you like something?"
"Just a snack please... and some coffee."
"As soon as possible mistress Min."
He was slipping. Yesterday he would have had both items ready and waiting. I really needed to crack him open and take a look.... but first, homework! It was all so boring... so easy. I looked up to find the coffee, already cooling, with some sort of lemon cookies. Both still being held on Jeeves tray, in his hands. His look - expectation, with a small amount of exultation - was mildly disconcerting.
"What are you grinning at, you goof?"
His smile grew wider. A stray thought about the material his teeth were made of flitted into my head and flew out on swift wings.
"Your homework is complete."
I looked down, sure enough, it was. These black outs, trances, whatever they were, were getting annoying.
"How did you know?"
"You looked up, of course."
"Of course."
The logic was faulty, but in this case he was right. With a shrug I turned to my computer, wondering what project to start. I caught inspiration from a chance glance out the window, into the star-speckled night. Perhaps not all childhood dreams had to die?
I worked on ramjet engines until the sky began to lighten; baby steps. After a nap of course, I was late... so I kicked my brother out of the bathroom and jumped in.
"Darn it Min, hurry up!"
"I am, I am! you know how long it takes to wash this stupid hair?!?"
I rushed out, hair wet but clothes thankfully on in time to hear him mutter:
"Well why not cut it then?"
I stopped and got into his face, whispering one word so he'd understand.
"Mom."
His blanch and nod was pretty gratifying.
Breakfast was an English muffin, ham, and scrambled eggs; One look at the parental units and I put my work down to focus on it. Neither approved of me working at the table. As usual Jeeves dried and brushed my hair while I ate and sipped coffee. None of us spoke, focused on our own breakfasts and concerned with our daily tasks.
It's amazing, the things you can consider normal, and after so little time spent building such a routine. Human adaptation is incredible.
Jeeves finished just before I did, and had my bag ready. Being slightly late I decided to run. Luckily enough I could still do that much at least. I couldn't lift more than a feather, but since I didn't weigh any more than a feather, it worked out... sort of. I flew to the end of the block without slowing. And there, waiting for me, was Ricky.
He was tomato faced, and late... and seemed to be stuck to the corner as if glued. He wasn't moving towards school at all. Was he sick or something?
"Hey Min."
"Good morning. Come on, we'll be late!"
In passing and with a full head of steam I snagged his hand; a maneuver I had done before when he wasn't moving fast enough for something or other, mainly school. This time however, the outcome was different. Instead of him being dragged along I almost came to a complete stop instead, bleeding momentum as he staggered two steps before his hand slipped from mine.
Stupid physics; how dare it mock me this way!
"Seriously, come on! We only have 4 minutes and 12 seconds left! That's barely enough time, let's go!"
I started running and soon enough he was right behind; well behind Jeeves anyway, who was moving along at a comfortable looking lope of his own. This fact seemed to annoy Ricky, who started really trying.
That of course, spurred me on, because illogical as it was, I really wanted to see if I could at least win a foot race against my friend anymore. I was sure I could, but I kept hearing a nagging little voice tell me I couldn't. The irony of the situation is that Jeeves is the normal one here - he didn't care. He only seemed concerned about whether I'd make it to school on time.
Lengthening my stride as much as possible, I increased the pace and focused on my breathing. Despite these measures, Ricky pulled up beside me, easily keeping pace. I ignored the voice again as it whispered (You knew that would happen, you're short, with a smaller stride, and your hips are now most inefficient compared to before) and tried to find another gear. As if to mock such efforts, Ricky just passed me as we reached the school doors.
"Great run; man you're fast."
The irony that I was far less fast than when I was a man was not lost on me, making that statement a good outpouring of salt on some recently open wounds. I never would have lost that big a lead on Ricky as a guy.I decided to be the bigger person and let it pass as we walked in quickly, Jeeves looking rather forlorn, alone at the gate.
"So what were you doing standing around Ricky, we were both late!"
I really hope he wasn't waiting on me. We had an unspoken rule, we did not wait for the other after 5 till; it screwed us both detention wise. Luckily we had made it just in time today.
"Well I'd lost my homework at the corner, and was looking for it. That's why I was still there. But then you came and I realized how late I was, and ran when you did."
Pretty good Ricky, but I smelled a lie. How did you lose your homework? Throw it? The wind was blowing south southwest at maybe 5 mph... not really enough to blow homework papers out of anyone's hands unless they were asleep, dead, or distracted. And if homework had been blown out of a hand (the only conclusion about losing it that made sense, since there was no dog near) then why were you standing on the street corner, not moving to retrieve it? Again, I let it pass.
But something was clearly up.
"Alright, well which class was it? You'll need to get with the teacher and work something out with them. At least, after first period."
I made it just as the bell rang, finally collapsing to my desk and getting to take my breather.
"Dude, what happened to you?"
Ralph was looking over, clearly concerned. Ugh, I must look terrible or something.
"Nothing, I was just late and had to run to avoid detention. Is it that noticable or something?"
"Messed up hair, elevated breathing, a bit of red in your face... yeah it's visible, if someone is paying attention. Don't worry, no one else is."
My gaze swept the classroom as Mr. Welsch (late himself) entered. It was true, everyone else was off in their own little world, chatting, reading, or in two cases doing their homework at the last minute, frowns clearly evident. I saw only one or two random glances my direction, indications that I was included in those little worlds to which every fellow student harbored within themselves.
So very unlike yesterday; was one day really all it took? Was a short time all it took for them to move on to the next disaster? Talk about sheeple. I could only hope so really, I was still stinging from my inability to defend myself.
Had I been like that?
If I had at one point been like that, I would need to watch for it. Humans had a tendency to self deception after all, and I wouldn't ever want to go back to that shallow way of thinking... if I'd ever left it in the first place.
Ugh, thinking sucks, you can't control what you think about, and it never stops!
Mr. Welsch's lecture on how weight and stresses could be manipulated and eased through the application of proper
structure was only mildly distracting; didn't we already learn this from the kite exercise? I mean after all the winds from hundreds of feet up would rip a poorly built kite to shreds in minutes, and improperly shared stresses involving flying a big moving sail across the sky would cause one to snap even faster.
But of course, if most of the student's kites hadn't even flown, they wouldn't be likely to absorb that lesson through observation. Which was why we now had to design and create a superstructure to support an egg being dropped from a height of three stories (from the school fire escape, to be specific) using only tooth picks and an adhesive of our choice, glue or tape - but not both. If the egg survived, we got an A, if it didn't, well C's were possible for a good attempt. We would have two weeks in which to read the relevant chapters Mr. Welsch would assign, do the research, and make the structure.
The many groans from the class told me all I needed to know about what most people thought their chances were. As people started getting paired off, Ralph leaned over.
"What are you drawing?"
I looked down. In the margins of my notebook I had been drawing the new ramjet I had been contemplating, in the usual parts unassembled fashion I'd picked up from somewhere. It looked like an engineer had drawn it; there were calculations in regard to wind resistance (for the cowling), fuel usage, and engine lubrication. The ones regarding fuel usage made me frown; it was all wrong. This engine would require way too much power using fossil fuels.
Had I been doing that while listening to Mr. Welsch AND thinking about how crappy my life was? Was my brain multitasking? If so it was doing it without me being aware of it, and that was kind of scary.
"A new engine I was thinking of working on. For a jet."
He looked at it critically.
"Awful small, isn't it? What kind of power you looking to get?"
True, it was only the size of a good coffee snob's coffee maker, but the power was going to be impressive. If I could solve the fuel problem; I mean, 50 gallons of jp-9 for 6 minutes of run time? Who wants to deal with that?
"Oh, somewhere around 17,000 pounds of thrust. Maybe more if I can solve the fuel problem."
His eyes wide for some reason, he asked:
"Fuel problem?"
"Yeah, standard jet fuel just won't cut it; I can't load enough unless I build an entire jet around it, a large one. So I'll need another power source. Possibly nuclear? I don't know...."
"Um, can't you use something a little safer than nuclear power?"
Indignant, I was about to launch into the fine points of nuclear power safety when we were both rudely interrupted. Or perhaps not really rudely interrupted, since we had been talking in class and Mr. Welsh was the one who interrupted us, looking more than a little angry. It's not like we were being loud or anything.
"Since you two are obviously already discussing the problem,' his glare gained intensity briefly before settling back into a low simmer- 'perhaps you two should team up for this next project."
Uh oh.
I looked at Ricky and gave a sort of helpless shrug as I replied.
"Sure, Mr Welsh."
Ralph seemed similarly stunned. Ricky and I grouped up for any and all labs we could, we had since forever. On the other hand, maybe the break would be a good one. Once more a bit focused, I started sketching an egg cradle.
"How about something like this?"
Ralph leaned over again.
"But, how are you going to control the angle of descent?"
"Why do we need to? We can simply build this piston design all the way around, kind of like the NASA bubble around rovers. Won't
matter which way it falls then."
I looked up, and caught some people watching us and whispering. I couldn't make out what was being said, but I could guess. Mr Welsh on the other hand, heard less than I did. He was now back at the blackboard, writing down the chapters to be read, just in case the students couldn't read the typed handout he gave earlier. Mildly sad, that. I idly wondered why we were doing this project now, since Monday we were talking fish adaptations, and Wednesday's lab was supposed to be investigating those up close, using gold fish as the examinees.
when the bell rang moments later I dutifully tucked the hand out into my notebook next to the notes on jet design and rushed out the door. Ricky was lying to me, and acting weird. I couldn't blame him for the latter, but the former... we had never had secrets before, and even if it turned out to be something innocuous, it hurt. If it was that he didn't like the new me, well all he had to do was tell me so, and I'd leave him alone. I wouldn't blame him, I was pretty sure I didn't like the new me.
"Hey, min! Wait up!"
I turned, noticing once again my own personal bubble, an open space in the cresting river current of humanity in which none intruded. I also noticed the stares and whispers again, as people walked past, obviously thinking that I had mutated into something blind and deaf. I spotted an arm waving frantically above the crush behind me, and soon enough Maggie Johnson was bobbing like a cork through the water, against the human wave.
"Hi Maggie, what's up?"
"Not much, I was just wondering if you'd given any thought to making a few more of Jeeves. The line is already forming around the block!"
Seriously? What did they see in that buggy jerk? I mean he followed orders some of the time, but he wasn't in any way reliable.
"I honestly hadn't thought of it, Sorry. I got sidetracked by another idea I've been working on."
She finally reached me, grabbing my arm and dragging me along, Samantha flanking me. The bubble did one thing well; we weren't knocked around while heading to class. Mutant cooties, I had 'em.
"Oh, and what project has caught your fancy? A girl version of Jeeves? A new type of hair dye? Taking over the world?"
Oh, low blow. She caught my glare, but what was surprising was the peripheral view; Samantha's glare from beside me. Against such an onslaught she wilted, throwing us both the puppy dog eyes. The dreaded puppy dog eyes of contrition, to which I had no defense.
"Sorry, thoughtless of me."
I smiled to show I held no hard feelings for the reminder.
"It's OK; don't worry about it. And no, working on a new ramjet engine. It'll end up about the size of a large coffee canister and generate a good 17,000 pounds of thrust up to about 35,000 feet. The problem is the fuel consumption is insane, a gallon every twenty seconds or so, and the heat generated...."
I risked a glance over; Sam was listening sort of intently, but Maggie's eyes had glazed.
"Never mind all that, it's not important, I'll figure it out."
"But a new jet engine? What made you think of that?"
"Not sure really, but I've always wanted to fly planes. FAA probably won't let me now unless I have the power and don't know it, or build my own aircraft."
"So, you're going to build your own planes?"
Maggie looked somewhat excited. Another glance revealed Samantha looking oddly supportive. Maggie's next question floored me though.
"Could I... could we help?"
"Um...."
I was sort of saved by my arrival at algebra. Could they help? Would they help, and not hinder? Would they think I was weird (or weirder) for seeing me in action? As I searched their faces, Samantha surprised us both. Samantha almost never spoke except when called upon by a teacher, preferring to let Maggie do the talking. But this time she seemed to feel it wasn't enough.
"Please? I'd like to help."
I came to a decision. Stall.
"Alright, I'm not in any way saying no, But please let me think on it, OK? Now we've all got to get to class before we get detention; see you both later."
They both nodded and hustled themselves. Neither one looked angry at being put off. At least not yet.
Whew.
I sat down in a hurry again, and the whispers quieted. I grabbed my book and set my book bag down, and looked up to see Ralph in the seat next to mine, to my left... again. While yes, Ralph was supposed to be sitting next to me this period, he had for physics too. While Mr. Welsh was pretty liaise fare about seating, I couldn't imagine Ricky, who had been a few seats away, had been happy about the switch. Maybe that's what Ricky was staring at me about earlier?
"Say Ralph, did you piss Ricky off?"
"Huh? How?"
"You were sitting next to me earlier, Ricky normally does that."
"Ahh, it's first come first serve in physics, and as a devisor you're going to be a pretty hot commodity in class. So if he's bent out of shape about it, well he can just get over it. But he didn't say anything to me or anything like that, no. As far as I know we're cool. Why do you ask?"
"Well he spent a lot of class time staring our direction; you didn't notice?"
"No, I was busier watching the vapid gossiping crew; I didn't really want to feed them any ways to make us the next item."
Oh gods, my reputation. I really did not want to have to worry about that again; my character had already been assassinated once, my behavior impugned.
"Urgh. Not again."
Oops, did not want to say that out loud.
"Don't worry, I won't let them bad mouth you. We're friends, after all."
Hmm, did he say anything like that to me before? Did he try to defend my reputation before? Did I need such a defense before? Did I need someone else to fight such battles for me now? I guess I could have used some help like that before; my own response to people spreading rumors about me was to ignore them and hope they would go away, which led me to being pegged as gay all through middle school. Not to mention all those beatings in the locker and bathrooms if I let my eyes stray (I'd given as good as I got, and that trend hadn't continued past middle school).
It might have been nice to have someone else backing me; after all Ricky couldn't be everywhere at once. His idea on how to stop the gay rumor had consisted of me 'banging Pam' (his words, not mine) until the rumors were replaced by how much of a stud I was. Not much of a plan, really; I could tell back when I was plain old Myrc what that would lead to.
Having someone else say that they wanted to just be there for me, felt kinda warm... kind of nice. But letting him know I felt that way would be a disaster... it was against the bro code!
"I can handle myself, you know, I'm not helpless."
"True, but I don't want to see giant mecha roaming the halls spouting "kill all humans."
I rolled my eyes and shot back the best I response I could, since Mr Mullins had just entered and was staring us all down.
"Nerd."
"Geek."
Mr. Mullins broke it (and many other such conversations like it) up:
"If you'd all turn to page 243 in your text books, we will discuss polynomials."
Boooooorrrring. So very boring. So boring the light from merely boring, could not even reach where I was. So it was time to run a few more numbers of my own. This time however, I decided to focus more. I didn't like the trance that my brain seemed to need to do anything, so I decided I'd take a page from all those self help books and psychiatrists, and try meditating my way into wakefulness while using my so called power. While I could do the equations that a week ago I hadn't even known existed, it felt slow... like a lagging internet connection or
something. At least there was no pain, and I wasn't passing out.
The lack of those two were always a plus.
Math class was uneventful, and only two people fell asleep during the droning, the horrible horrible droning... a new record in attention, actually. Usually I was one of the victims. That might explain the surprised looks Mr. Mullins was shooting me as I worked. Thankfully he didn't ask me any questions, I didn't feel like answering any of those. I was sure he'd gather the nerve to soon enough though.
But for today at least I was free. And the calculations were complete. I was fairly certain that even nuclear power was unequal to the power engine needed; too much weight. Even with a completely stripped nuclear plant, running only one fuel rod, the core alone would weigh half a ton. There was no way I could attach enough of my new engines to that to generate lift enough to make the craft any fun at all. So I'd have to use something else.
That only left two other options for power; fission of other materials (like hydrogen perhaps) or harnessing a micro black hole. I just needed more then the standard 1% conversion rate humanity made do with since the days of fires in caves. Made me wonder how the other devisors did it; either they were making their own versions of what I needed and not broadcasting the discovery, or they hadn't done it yet, and were using something more esoteric, like cow flatulence or something.
If they had done it before me, it was a pure waste; cheap effective power given to death rays and war machines. The best power humanity currently had was nuclear, which was the most efficient out there, and was very safe (when the human element didn't betray safety features). But a good fission reaction using normally inert materials, like water, could solve so many problems it was a pure wonder to me no one had beaten me to the punch.
Perhaps the corporations resisted such changes? Maybe the governments did? I could sort of see that; if they didn't understand the tech, they would be very wary of it. And I doubt most devisors of any stripe have the charisma and desire to try marketing their own inventions, probably making the decision to shelve them instead to avoid the headache. Perhaps my power plant, should I be successful in devising one, should remain proprietary after all.
"Hey, you OK?"
I looked into Ralph's face from six inches away. My very not startled reflex was to pull away. Luckily I stifled most of the noise I wanted to make.
"Gah!"
I had been sitting in class after the bell rang, my brain had gotten away from me, so to speak. Less than two seconds had passed, but I had just done quite a bit of thinking in that elapsed time. Everyone else was getting up to leave, and when I hadn't moved with my customary alacrity, Ralph had leaned over to inquire about my health.
"Yeah I'm fine, was just thinking about why more devisors don't market all those better mouse traps they build. It just doesn't make much sense to me."
I got up and slid out, Ralph creating his own wake behind me.
"Well I don't know much about it, but I think the main problem with devisors doing that is non-devisors can't use the stuff, which means that if the devisor sells the better mousetrap, then he has to run and maintain it. Very few devisors want to be shackled to past projects, useful or not. Patent laws and the marketing business probably seal the deal."
On to the next class while Ralph went to his; he didn't have geography. Lucky him; I shared the class with Ricky, but also shared it with Pam and Gordon. While Gordon was suspended for attacking me, I couldn't really trust Pam anymore either; after all, she'd been standing right behind Gordon when he flipped, and hadn't said a word. I could feel the tacit approval of Gordon's actions, and that confused me. I had thought Pam and I were friends. On the bright side, the class was basically all reading, and due to my mutation, I had finished the entire book already and
could recite all the important details from memory.
Of course that just made the class more boring than math; so I sat alone surrounded by people, calculating and recalculating power delivery systems. The main issue with power was ironically, power. In order to use what I wanted, the safest power system delivering the most power, I would have to have enough power to light the world for a day, or a major city like D.C. for a year. In order to get that, I'd have to build a less powerful and slightly less safe power system.
I suppose I could always just ionize a gas and put the resulting plasma under electromagnetic containment, forcing it to generate power. Almost completely stable, fairly safe... if it breached, the disaster would be local. Likely only the engineer in charge of it would be killed. Or the pilot, if I put it in the aircraft. The power generated would be... roughly 4.6 times the equivalent of a gallon of water, when compared to deuterium. Hmm. Not enough, not nearly enough. But it could work as a stopgap, while I build a second fusion generator and had that working on the other power source... but then I'd need power storage....
"Minerva!"
So annoying, I had to think on this li-on battery problem, and Mrs. Carson just derailed my train of thought. Without thinking I responded.
"Copenhagen."
The flabbergasted look on her face was priceless.
"What?"
"Oh come on Mrs. Carson, you were discussing Denmark, and the first question you always ask after going over exports of a country is it's capital. The capital of Denmark is Copenhagen. Am I wrong? Were you going to ask me something else?"
I tried, but couldn't completely keep my exasperation from bleeding into my tone. I sent her a silent eye apology, which she seemed to see. I had no idea why I was so irritated; normally being interrupted like that wouldn't be a problem! What was wrong with me?
"No, you're right. I had no idea I had become so predictable. Moving on...."
Well at least I passed the attention check, and could go back to work. I'd apologize after class for being rude. I'd need space for all this activity; the basement wouldn't be good enough. But where could I do all that? I was pretty sure mom, let alone the city council, wouldn't let me do all this within city limits, if they let me do it at all. I'd need a very large work space, and a much larger three dimensional printer for the best and quickest results. But nothing like that existed around here; the best buildings for all that were warehouses, and the ones
around here just were not big enough, even if I could get the money to buy one somehow. My family was well off, but we were far from rich. Mom and dad worked for a living.
Well first thing was first; I could at least go with the fusion option. Enough minimizing the components and I could get it to the size of a good closet. As it stood I was looking at one maybe half the size of our entire basement. I wonder if dad would let me make it in the basement....
The bell signaling the end of class shattered my thoughts. I had managed to keep a good measure of control with almost painful concentration, but now I felt flushed; hot. I stood and after a fleeting moment the feeling passed.
"Min! Hi. How you doing?"
I heard Maggie chime up from behind, but didn't turn to her yet.
"I'm pretty good Maggie, wait for me a sec while I talk to Mrs Carson?"
"Sure!"
It should be illegal to be that chipper. I wondered for a second if she was on stimulants. I mean, I was and I couldn't pull that bounce and tone off. But I could ask her in a few seconds.
"Mrs. Carson?"
"Yes Min?"
"I wanted to apologize earlier, I was rude and I'm sorry."
"It's alright Min, I accept your apology. What was distracting you? You obviously had other things on your mind, for all that you got the answer to my question correct."
"Um, I was working on power systems. I really don't want to go into more detail here, I might be late for the next class. But chances are I'll be doing that sort of thing in your class a lot; I can't really help myself. I've already read the textbook cover to cover and after that, well..."
She finished for me.
"After that the class is boring?"
"Exactly; sorry. I can't help myself."
"It's alright Min, I'm not angry. If you already know the material, then I'm content. You'll be the first kid I've graduated with an A in 6 years... won't you?"
OK, she could pull off a scary look too. Wonder how everyone knew how to do that but me?
"Yes ma'am. Got to go!"
I booked it through the now mostly empty classroom before she could question me in more detail. Unfortunately that left Maggie, during the long walk to gym.
"So what had you scribbling away like mad earlier?"
"You already know, the jet engine idea. I've narrowed it down to one of the power systems I didn't want to use, but it should work. I'll have to use at least 3 of them, more likely 4, and I'll need to include a fuel tank for the deuterium that will have to be about the size of a small water heater... In fact a water heater should work. Then I'll need a car battery for the initial start up of the electromagnetic containment system...."
She interrupted me, just in time, as we put our books away. I grabbed my previously hidden laptop out of my bag, and she spared it a glance as she asked:
"You're really going through with it, aren't you? You're really going to build... an experimental jet?"
"Well, yes. Why wouldn't I?"
"Um.. no reason. My offer to help still stands. I'd love to be a part of it, and Sam would too."
I thought about it, and mentally shrugged.
"Sure, but I have a few conditions."
"And those are?"
"Two conditions. One, you do what I say, when I say it. That's more for your safety than anything else, can't have you flicking a switch at the wrong time and blowing things up. The other is you don't ever print any technical details you pick up. I'm not sure I want my tech out there in the wide world yet, and even a school newspaper might be watched."
She thought about it about as much as I had. We strode into the gym before she spoke again.
"That's acceptable to me, and I'm sure Sam will go along. Meet you after school?"
Hmm, I wasn't sure I was going to start today. Though I probably would.
"Sure, though I'm not sure I was going to start on it today. Maybe just the design stage."
She nodded as I realized we were headed into the girl's locker room. I stopped with my face heating. I didn't need to go in there, wasn't like I needed to change for gym, so waiting out here or better yet just going to sit down was by far the more safe option. Unfortunately Maggie had other ideas.
"Seriously, get in here. We were talking, and I for one am not done. It's not like I'll be able to ask you questions during gym."
If I hadn't been turned away from the door, doing the gentlemanly thing, I wouldn't have been caught like that. What was it with everyone grabbing me today? Maybe I should invent a Teflon suit or something; something one could not grip. Hmm....
"Well what more do you want to know?"
I was a bit curious, how much more detail could she need? She started stripping quickly; we were among the last students here, and late students ran laps. I looked into the sea of flesh; most of my fellow students were ignoring me, more than a few were listening in (like Sam, with an almost laser like focus three lockers down). Very few were doing any covering up. I could well appreciate the effort. Fortunately for them I suppose, the best I could manage to feel was an idle curiosity. An idle curiosity that made me both sad... and worried.
"The design stage, what's involved in that?"
"well it's where I look at the basic design, go over the math again, design the individual parts and test their tolerances and stresses. and other such boring things. Mostly it's all done by computer modeling."
I could tell she wasn't going to give up that easily.
"Sounds great; We'll be waiting at the gate after school, OK?"
Sam was nodding so hard I thought her neck would snap and her head would roll across the floor.
"Um, sure. Anything else?"
"Nah, that's all I wanted, thanks. Enjoy the extra study time. What is it for us today?"
Sam spoke.
"Wiffleball."
"Wiffleball?!? Oh man...."
Wiffleball was an actual activity? Wow. The guys were doing basketball today I think. At least I could still watch it, if I wasn't allowed to play anymore. And I'd have company; Ralph was already there, 4 bleachers up and already reading. I joined him with my laptop in tow.
"Hey."
He looked up, a bit startled, and gave a little wave.
"Hey. How goes things?"
"Could be worse."
I wasted no time booting up and starting on my CAD program. If I wanted to draft and run computer simulations, the best way to handle it would be to make the software involved myself. I already had a good head start thanks to the program I used to make the printer.
"Wow, your fingers are blurring."
"Hmm, so they are. I'm working on this program and I need it done as soon as possible. With luck I can get it done by the end of school. That is, if I'm allowed to work on it in study hall."
"They might, if you can prove to them you aren't doing something silly like movies or Facebook."
I looked at the string of code I was working on; it was already 4,263 characters long. I doubted coach Howard could even read C+, let alone tell that it was for three dimensional modeling.
"I don't think that will be a problem."
After all, coach would still trust me, right?
"Heads up!"
That yelled warning was enough to take me back... and start the instinctive ducking process;I was huddling over my computer before I saw the ball, which was coming from literally nowhere at high velocity to nail Ralph in the back of the head. It bounced off as he glared in the direction it had come from. And lo and behold, there was Monty, his stance looking suspiciously like he was passing the ball... to Ralph. But Ralph had been in front of me, and leaned down to look at the screen. Which meant that Monty, a friend of mine, had most likely tried to bounce a
basketball off my tender face.
"You OK?"
He didn't seem to be hurt badly, his eyes were clear and the death glare he was giving Monty showed no hint of confusion.
"Yeah I'm fine, it'll take more than that to hurt me. The one good thing I got from my mutation."
Coach Howard hadn't seen anything, of course. The pass had been timed for when his back was turned. Or perhaps a suitable distraction had been made; I saw he had been chatting with Chris, another member of the basketball team. The ball itself had taken a favorable bounce and was already back on the court. Without further ado I started down the bleachers. I didn't make it past two steps before an arm blocked my way. I looked Ralph in the eye.
"Don't. Don't bother, it's not a problem."
"It IS a problem, Monty just threw a ball at one of us. I want to know what his malfunction is."
He shook his head.
"It's not a problem, I already told you, they can't hurt me like that."
I walked around him.
"Just because they can't hurt you like that, doesn't mean they should be left alone to try."
"Just let it go; he aimed at me, and we already know why. He hates mutants."
Reluctantly, I sat. Monty hadn't even come over to fake apologize, the jerk. Of course he was getting beat off the dribble, so maybe we could claim a karmic victory?
"Don't worry, I'll keep an eye out for both of us."
With a shrug I started in again. It's probably true that confronting Monty with words would be a lost cause. I doubted I'd win a fight either, so that was out. Ralph could probably win such a fight, but never fought anyone who gave him crap; which was usually why I would step in before. Hmm, what could the reason for that be? Win a few fights, and even Gordon would leave you alone. At least until he smelled weakness. Bullies often seemed similar to sharks, at least to me. Monty was at least a little more intelligent than Gordon, and would theoretically require fewer beatings. So why would Ralph hold back? It didn't really make any sense.
Of course it seemed rude to ask, and I didn't want to appear stupid in any case, so I let it slide. Plenty of time to figure it out later.
Coach Howard had never even glanced my direction; I took that as tacit approval of my computer use in my now free gym time. The rest of class was uneventful. then the bell rang and I was free for lunch! I loved my laptop, it just went to sleep when folded, saving everything. The battery life was top notch too. I was out of gym like a shot, for once able to avoid all the people who wished me ill. I'd seen the looks Pam had shot me earlier, and no doubt Monty would love to beat on any freaky mutant. Not to mention Gordon's football circle was still lurking about.
It was an almost physical relief to see Jeeves waiting outside, a red checkered blanket spread under the tree I liked, a picnic basket lying on one corner of it and various plastic wrapped sandwiches, fruits and a piece of some sort of pie lying scattered about. The blanket was also a relief; I felt a little tired and it would be good to rest. The rose, in a vase in the center would undoubtedly be knocked over in seconds.
"Good afternoon mistress Min, you are one minute twelve seconds earlier than expected. Today I have a selection of fresh sandwiches; the Au blanch de paulet, the Au blanc de dindonnean, and the Rosbif en tanches. As a side I have selected fresh blackberries, raspberries, apples, and blueberries. The pie is Rhubarb. The thermos on the left contains coffee, the one on the right contains V8 juice."
I decided I'd better learn french. The sandwiches looked to be made with a few different ingredients, but they appeared to be a chicken sandwich, a turkey club, and a roast beef sandwich. The only real difference seemed to be the sauces on them, at least at a glance.
"Got a small pillow hidden somewhere?"
With a grin he pulled a small white pillow from the basket.
"As it happens mistress Min, I do. How do you feel?"
I sat and chose what I thought was the roast beef; food came first, then a little rest. I was fairly sure Jeeves would insist on it. Those looked amazing too. As I unwrapped it Jeeves pulled out a small mp3 player with ear buds. I did not recognize it. The other students who were inclined to leave for lunch started filing out; there were a few curious stares, but very few people came within fifty feet of us. That was a fact for which I was grateful.
Upon closer inspection and a careful test bite, the sandwich revealed itself to be roast beef and swiss, with some type of weird tomato and horseradish spread on both sides of the french bread. It was nothing short of a delicious blend of odd flavors. I really did need to learn french; no doubt Jeeves would slip something like powdered baby cow heart or something in my food sooner or later. I'd need to be ready to identify it.
"Min!"
I looked up so see a near impossible sight. A nearly breathless Maggie running up to us, Sam in tow. She looked angry. Even Sam wore a slightly accusing stare.
"Min, why didn't you wait for us?"
"Um, I wasn't aware I needed to?"
She shook her head a bit and muttered something I didn't catch. I tried again.
"I'm sorry?"
She plunked herself down next to my left and Sam took my right, acting almost as if I'd run or something. The look she shot Jeeves was still more than a little awestruck. Jeeves did not seem to care.
"It's OK I guess, but from now on, wait for us, alright? We can all have lunch together. It's more fun that way."
"Alright. Help yourselves, I don't think I'm going to eat three sandwiches anyway."
Hmm, three sandwiches and assorted fruit, and three people; had Jeeves known somehow? If so, how? I mean he had some software designed to replicate intuition, but was that what was at work here? He noticed me looking and gave an enigmatic smile. Oh yes, he had known somehow. And he wanted me to wonder about it, the jerk. Well I wasn't going to. I was going to wonder about the mp3 player. It was smaller than most, perhaps the size of a USB flash drive. The ear buds had a sort of gel on them. It had no manufacturer's stamp.
"Something I found and filled with music for you, mistress min."
Well that made me even more curious. Finishing my sandwich and grabbing a handful of raspberries, I stuck the ear buds in and hit the power button. Immediately some soothing classical music started. Mozart? Chopin? I wasn't sure, but it was soothing. Stretching out with the pillow under me was almost a must now that I was full. I reopened my eyes when I felt two cold hands; one on my forehead, one on the side of my neck.
"You are flushed mistress Min, and chilled. Your blood pressure is low. Are you dizzy?"
Jeeves, doing his medical thing. His face had a kind cast to it as he looked down at me. The facial expression software was top notch too, I guess. Wish I remember how I did it.
"A little."
"Then rest. I shall warn you when lunch period is completed."
I didn't mean to sleep, but sleep I did. Before I knew it, I was being gently shaken awake. Forty minutes felt like seconds. I was very groggy on the return to consciousness; it took me some time to remember where I was and why. The music had changed from classical to electronic, something strangely peppy and infectious. I could almost feel the energy from it entering me. I pulled the ear buds out with regret. Sam and Maggie had apparently finished off the lunch basket, and were chatting softly about some shop or other next to me.
"Ugh, that time already?"
Jeeves did his hand thing.
"You should be well enough to continue school, should you wish to. How do you feel?"
I did not want to continue school. Sigh.
"Well enough I suppose, a bit out of it. I should be OK for school, it's only two hours left, and one of those is study hall."
He helped me gently to my feet.
"Do not overexert yourself. Should you need me, do not hesitate to call."
"I won't, trust me."
I'd be a fool not to use the few tools I had available, right?
"Everything OK?" Maggie asked. Sam nodded as if to second the question.
"Just fine.' I stated as we started off, 'I just get tired a lot anymore. The anemia thing."
"Oh yeah, I heard about that, and looked anemia up online, did you know it's normally tied in with blood pressure? Low blood pressure specifically...."
And she was off, hurricane Maggie was in full category 5 mode. I just took a step back and buckled in. On the other side of Maggie, I noticed Sam doing the same. She returned my grin with a slight one of her own. It was hard not to like Sam, she was so open and expressive, all without saying a word.
Because I shared study hall with Sam and Maggie, I was able to listen to every inane fact and rumor that Maggie could dredge up from the internet, much of which I already knew. The thing about an anemic's blood being good for vampires was new, and not something I wanted to try confirming. Assuming I could even find a vampire; I probably could if I tried. Of course when we got to class, due to the 'sit anywhere' policy, Sam and Maggie sat next to me. I set my stuff down in the front middle desk, and they took the desks on either side. I wanted Coach Howard to
see anything that happened to me/us. I was well within easy speaking range.
"Coach."
He looked up from his sports illustrated.
"Yes Min?"
"Do you mind if I use my computer here? My homework is done, and I want to work on a computer program."
"If you don't mind me periodically checking what you're doing to make sure you aren't hacking the pentagon or posting selfies, then sure."
"I don't mind."
Maggie leaned in close to whisper.
"Min, why did you pick here? Coach Howard can hear everything we say!"
"He can also see anything that happens to us; I'm not so sure being near me is safe at the moment."
Sam broke her silence.
"Why?"
"Well before lunch in gym, while you were on the other side of the gym, Ralph got nailed by a basketball, thrown by Monty... on purpose. No doubt in my mind it was on purpose. The thing is, Ralph was leaning down between me and the gym floor at the time, which means Monty could have been aiming at me, and Ralph just got in the way. Now Monty isn't here, but some of his friends are, and they sit in the back."
Silas and Dean, I knew they sat in back because not too long ago, I'd have sat next to them. They were always cheerful, with a ready joke. But who knew how they felt about me now? About mutants?
"Well then Coach Howard is just going to have to put up with me!" Maggie declared loudly, and to hsi credit coach Howard didn't even look up as he replied.
"If you mix talk about homework with whatever else you want, I won't mind it at all. However I know you, Margaret. Your homework is NOT done. So get to it."
She grumbled but complied. Sam had already started hers... algebra for both of them, it looked like. I gave a shrug and brought the computer out of sleep, finding the code right where I left it.
"Um, hey Min, you know the answer to number 4 here? I can't get it to work."
I glanced over, it was a quadratic equation involving decimals. Fairly easy, if a little harder than what my class was working on.
"X = 4."
"You sure?"
"You asked, that's it. All you do is multiply both sides by 10 to remove the decimals."
I could see Sam on the other side of me erasing her answer, and writing mine.
"Oh, that's all? Mr Mullins made it sound so complicated."
Sam broke her silence again, for the second time in an hour.
"He does that."
My fingers hadn't even slowed.
"Yes he does, doesn't he? Oh well, I can help you if you get stuck. just try to actually do it first."
Forty minutes and three more algebra questions later, study hall ended. It had been uneventful, for all that Silas and Dean had been seated behind us and three rows down. The noise had been kept to a low roar, and my head had cleared completely. I was if anything, even more tired than I had been at lunch though. The good news was the coding was almost complete enough to test.
I waved to Mrs. Holmes as I entered, among the last to arrive. I had carefully put my computer away, and that took time. I took the opportunity to whisper to her while handing in my homework.
"Mrs. Holmes, I'm tired. Really tired. I'm going to try and stick it out, but if I fall asleep please don't get mad at me, OK?"
She looked as if she wanted to argue, took a good look at me, and just nodded.
"Do your best. Things will get better."
"Thanks."
Ricky had his customary seat for this class, Mrs. Holmes tolerated no seating chart shenanigans. The droning about participles was immense. Ricky did not dare the wrath of Mrs. Holmes with conversation, though he clearly wanted to. With herculean effort I managed to stay awake, but it was a close call. Mrs Holmes clearly appreciated the effort.
And then school was out, and Maggie and Sam once again bracketed me for the uneventful walk out into the sunshine.
(tbc)
Maggie was supplanted by Jeeves so rapidly I would have sworn it was teleportation. For all of that she wasn't knocked over or hurt, just as startled as I was.
“Mistress Min, you are unwell.”
Mental face palm. I wondered how obvious it was.
“Yes Jeeves, thank you, I had noticed.”
He pondered this for a moment before turning to Maggie.
“I am sorry Miss Johnson. You may resume; Mistress Min, I shall walk behind you, as is proper.”
I rolled my eyes as Maggie stood there, trying to catch flies in her mouth. It was the wrong season for it, but she tried anyway.
“Come on Maggie, that's about as good an apology as you're going to get. He's a bit off. I haven't had time to fix him yet.”
“...Right. OK. So... did you see what Jenny had on today?”
Sam nodded while I'm sure I looked confused.
“Jenny Prichart?”
“Yes!”
Maggie giggled. Sam snickered.
“What was wrong with what she had on today?”
She had wore a purple skirt and lavender top.
“Are you kidding? She looked so stupid! Not enough contrast. Worst fashion statement ever.”
Sam nodded. I just shrugged. I wouldn't make that mistake; after all with my hair and eye color wearing purple would look hideous.
They continued gossiping in that fashion as I led the way home; which was a little weird, come to think of it. They would be the first girls I'd ever brought home. And I'd had to change into one for it to happen.
And just as suddenly I found myself floating, my head swimming a little. Suppressing a spike of fear, I looked up into Jeeves's eyes. It took another second for it to click; he was carrying me! I tried to tell him to put me down; it took a few tries to get the words to come.
“Darn it Jeeves what are you doing?”
He put his eyes front to avoid some yahoo riding a bike on the sidewalk.
“I cannot. You were collapsing. If I put you down now, you will be unable to walk or stand.”
Maggie, unseen to my left (my head was being cradled by Jeeves somehow) corroborated.
“It's true, you just started to fall all of a sudden and Jeeves just barely caught you before you hit the ground. He's very fast.”
...Crap.
I could feel the sensation of movement, so Jeeves hadn't stopped. The motion made my vision swim a little, and the world was too bright. Jeeves was carrying me bridal style again (which was better than a fireman's carry, I supposed) but I could barely move my arms off my stomach; for some reason they felt made of lead.
“Um, look Min, if you're sick, we can do this later....”
I wanted to shake my head, but didn't dare try.
“No, this isn't an illness I can really run from or wait out. If I stay awake I'll be working. If I'm working, you guys might as well stay and watch.”
Sam surprised me.
“Not watch; help.”
“Right, sorry. My bad there. Just remember, don't touch anything unless I say to, and stay away from the 3d printer itself. It's a little... twitchy.”
I could see Maggie's compulsion to ask drag the words from her.
“How twitchy?”
“It tried to eat Jeeves when he went to put metal in it.”
Maggie and Sam pondered that. Sam struck first this time.
“Jeeves is made of metal, isn't he? Could that be the reason why he was targeted?”
I blinked. Of course, that made all kinds of sense.
“Probably, but I really don't want to risk finding out that theory is wrong. That thing is a little weird.”
“Weirder than Jeeves?”
I looked up at him.
“Nah, about the same. You'll see.”
We made it back, but Jeeves still wouldn't let me down. At his insistence, Maggie opened the garage door. She actually looked hesitant about it; something I wouldn't have expected.
Meanwhile I was getting a little less weighty – I could move my arms and legs a little now.
The sun cut the gloom of the interior nicely. The day was a little chilly, but my coat solved that problem. Jeeves ensconced me in a chair. This chair had not existed yesterday, I felt sure.
It was an office chair in black, only much larger. So large I pretty much could lose myself in it. It had cushioned armrests and a slight depression that sort of made me lean into the back of it. I didn't slide either. So if I were unconscious, or half conscious, rather than pitching forward, I would pitch back and stay in the chair, rather than bounce my head off concrete.
Ingenious. It looked a little like a modern art masterpiece, but it was ingenious.
“That's a weird chair. Where did you get it?”
“Jeeves, did you make this last night?”
“I did mistress Min. I felt it would be good for you to have a chair you could fall asleep in safely, if necessary.”
“And no one saw it?”
“Your father left this morning in quite the hurry. Your mother might have seen it, but I was not present to witness her thoughts.”
I frowned.
“And what were you doing all day then?”
“Watching you mistress Min. then cooking your lunch. Then watching you.”
I was able to move enough, so I pulled out my computer.
“And where were you doing that?”
Sam spoke up, oddly enough.
“From the large tree you eat under. It's just outside school grounds but you can see inside several classrooms with it.”
Maggie gaped at Sam as Jeeves nodded assent. I didn't want to know, but she just had to ask.
“And how do you even know that?”
“Thursday nights.”
What? That made no sense to me, but Maggie nodded slowly as if it did.
“So what happens on Thursday nights that you need a large tree outside the school for?”
They both made a point of ignoring the question, crowding in front of my computer on either side and looking at the schematics. From the way their faces colored it was potential blackmail material.
“So what's the first step?”
“Well the first step is to take the parts one piece at a time, feed them into the 3D printer, and wait for the printer to make them. After that it's simply putting the pieces together. Of course I still have a few parts to design, so I'll be doing that. It's hardly any sort of riveting amusement.”
Maggie pulled up a couple lawn chairs and unfolded them, one for herself and one for Sam. They sat down, again flanking me.
“You just let us be the judge of that. Just do what you do.”
With a shrug I started in, designing one of the blade cowlings. It looked like a big tube on the screen, and while Maggie was rapidly glancing around and watching other things (especially when the printer fired up to build the first fan blade) Sam's eyes never moved from the screen.
I had the cowling half complete when I felt myself beginning to fade again. Jeeves came back with coffee just in time. As I sipped he pulled a cushioned footstool over and rather pointedly set my feet on it. Then he removed my shoes.
Maggie watched him with wide eyes and a large grin, teeth on full display.
“What?”
If anything she stretched that grin even wider. I looked over to find Sam with a faint smile too. For her, that was the equivalent of Maggie's grin.
“Jeeves takes good care of you.”
Well of course he does. That's his job.
“He's supposed to. Thank you for the coffee Jeeves, it's wonderful.”
Sam seemed to wrestle with herself for a moment, then blurted out:
“May I have some coffee?”
I slapped my forehead.
“Crap, I'm sorry! I'm your host, and I didn't even think to ask! Jeeves would you...?”
“Certainly mistress Min.”
I spared an expectant glance at Maggie. As I expected, it didn't take long for her to chime in.
“A coke would be great Jeeves, please.”
“Of course Miss Johnson.”
Jeeves came back with the requested refreshments while I marveled at the difference having my feet propped up made. It really did seem to help with my awareness and focus. In short I felt more awake. Between that and the coffee, maybe I could finish and get this idea out of my head.
“This is... great coffee.”
I looked over; Sam had finished hers already. I looked in my mug; it was half full. She works fast.
“Sorry, should have warned you; it's something mom called “devisor coffee”. I use filtered water and beans scanned for traits shown to make the best coffee, purified by....”
Her eyes were shining brightly as she stared into mine. She was hanging on my every word; I wasn't sure if she was gleaning the meaning from them. Maggie's eyes were glazed over though.
“Right. Suffice to say that I reworked the coffee machine to make better coffee. Another cup?”
“Yes, please.”
Without a word, Jeeves grabbed our mugs, coming back moments later with our mud colored liquid gold. A murmured thanks and I was back in the game, cowling specs almost complete and math solved.
When Jeeves got back, Ian followed him in. The garage was getting crowded.
“Hey sis, you have guests... how unusual.”
I wanted to throw a pillow at him.
“Jeeves make a note; we need pillows in here for next time.”
Ian opened his mouth, but Maggie beat him to the punch.
“Pillows?”
“For annoying little pests that sneak in and make snide comments. So what's up Ian?”
He spent a little time looking between my new friends and gathering his wits. It didn't take that long; he didn't have that much to gather.
“Was just checking to see where the party was; Jeeves came out here with two mugs after all. I expected Ricky. You OK?”
He finally noticed my feet up and lack of general movement.
“Just a little tired. No idea where Ricky is, I think he is on his way. I kind of expected him to be here by now.”
He stepped up, trying to gain space between Sam and myself. Sam wasn't having any of it, and shot him a pretty venomous look. She seemed really into this; who knew? Ian felt the heat but tried to act nonchalant.
“So what's the project for today?”
I thought about it, but decided to keep it simple. Very simple.
“A small jet.”
He showed me I was right to keep it simple; if this level of excitement was what he showed when hearing those three words, what would he d when he found out how I would power it, or what it's flight capabilities were?
“A jet?!?! Awesome!!! I've always wanted to fly!”
“I'm afraid if you want to fly, you're going to have to build your own, at least at first. It'll have to be properly tested first.”
“And who is going to be stupid enough to do that, sis?”
I looked at the assorted crowd, all of whom seemed to be staring at me in a most unnerving fashion. Sam even looked eager! Eager!
“Jeeves, of course.”
Instantly I was descended on. The trio leaned well into my personal space in a disturbing manner. While I blinked at the unusual behavior.
“No! Bad idea Min!”
“Is Jeeves a competent pilot?”
“Not a good plan sis!”
Why wasn't it? Jeeves could learn how to fly a jet as easily as any of us. Perhaps even easier. I turned to Maggie, ignoring Ian rather pointedly. He deserved all the frustration I could give him.
“Why not?”
“Jeeves takes care of you. If you send him up in that jet and it blows up, who's going to carry you if you collapse, or bring you lunch, or help you build stuff?”
Sam nodded furiously. Ian was pouting to much to agree.
I am an idiot.
“Right, I got it...”
Sam's eyes were shining again; I almost hated to dash the hope in them.
“...so I'll have to build a pilot to test it.”
Sam and Ian both pouted while Maggie perked up. I couldn't imagine why they would want to risk getting blown up to fly an experimental jet; it's like they thought I wouldn't let them fly one later or something. Of course if I told them I would, mom would kill me. So my hands were kind of tied.
“You mean another Jeeves, right?”
And that explained Maggie's interest.
“Not quite, he will be a test pilot, devoted to test piloting. Jeeves is more of the domestic type. But he will be an android, yes. I really need to work out the bugs before I make another Jeeves. I mean, look at him!”
They looked. Some of the wind let out of Maggie's sails, but not much. I could almost hear her sayign to herself: 'another android is one step closer, bwah ha ha!'
Well I imagined she'd bwah ha ha.
“Hey, wow, it's a party. Hi everyone.”
Ricky! Ricky would save me from the crazy people!
“Hi Ricky! Where have you been? I kind of expected you before now.”
He walked up and looked over my shoulder.
“Got side tracked talking to one of the teachers. What's this?”
“Parts for that jet engine I was talking about. In this case, the cowling. The fan should be finishing up in the printer, actually.”
Right on cue, it dinged.
“An oven timer?”
I absently corrected Sam's assumption.
“An old microwave timer, actually.”
“I thought it sounded like an egg timer.”
Ricky had the best comment.
“Ding! Fries are done!”
memes for the win.
“Alright, time for the next part.”
I dutifully added the next part design to be machined/printed; the turbine shaft. The printer started to work again immediately as Jeeves carefully retrieved the fan. Same leaned closer, placing her head mere inched from mine. I tried to draw back a little, but her weight pinned me in place. She didn't seem to notice.
“How are you doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“The laptop isn't hooked up to the printer. Is it wireless?”
“Well yeah, from this laptop at least. I wrote the protocols for it a few days ago. The printer is basically a big dumb system with a network interface. You can't just walk up to it and punch buttons; it needs a computer to make it work.”
“Not just any computer, right?”
I shook my head.
“No, it needs one with my interface protocols installed. Otherwise just anyone could use it, and I don't like that idea much. I met a mutant during my powers testing who was a real idiot, and if he could use it he'd probably blow up the world or something.”
I wasn't sure how X-ray could manage that, but if there was a way, I was confident he could find it. He'd never get one of my inventions if I could help it.
Apparently I shouldn't have said something like that; everyone looked pretty nervous now, except for Ian, who was grinning and nodding along. He wasn't all that impressed with X-ray either.
“Guys don't worry, I've got it under control! In order to get on this laptop you need my password, my voice, and my eyes. In case anyone hasn't noticed, I have some very rare eyes. It'd be hard for anyone to fake them, even if they got everything else. My secrets are very safe.”
Maggie nodded, convinced. Sam looked a little green; I think she was contemplating future kidnapping attempts by super villains or something. Ricky just looked bored. Ian looked... where was Ian?
Ian looked nervous, returning with a mountain dew for Sam, who took it graciously. No drinks for the rest of us, those were handled by Jeeves, who came out a moment later. I met Ian's eyes, my own eyebrows raised... and he blushed. Interesting. I couldn't tell if Sam didn't notice, or just pretended not to.
“What? Jeeves couldn't carry all the drinks without a tray, so I helped.”
“Nothing, nothing. So is everyone good and bored yet?”
Maggie was, I could see it in her eyes, though she was trying valiantly to hide it. Sam was actually paying attention, which seemed more odd to me; in school she always seemed to pay attention, but this focus was something else – and slightly unnerving. Ricky was definitely bored, though he was splitting his attention between watching Jeeves, and watching the 3D printer with equal parts of wariness.
I get why he thought the printer was dangerous; I did too, at least mildly so. But Jeeves? Jeeves was harmless.
“Min, are you in here?”
Weird, mom sounded worried. Oops. Oh crap, I forgot to let mom know I was home. And I bet Ian didn't tell her. Jeeves coming in and out wouldn't have necessarily warned her, if she wasn't watching what he was doing.
“Yeah mom, I have guests!”
With luck she wouldn't yell at me in front of company. She had been keeping tabs on my lately. It was almost cloying, if it wasn't for that entire being necessary thing. She poked her head through the door and her hard gaze immediately softened when it fell upon me. Safe! Looking at me like that, I knew I wasn't in any real trouble.
“What are you doing in here?”
The unspoken message of why I hadn't come inside first was loud and clear.
“Showing Maggie and Sam the 3D printer and working on an engine. Jeeves kind of carried me home and stuck me in this chair. Sorry I didn't say anything.”
She didn't need to know what kind of an engine it was yet. She brushed off the apology.
“Did you make a new chair?”
“No, Jeeves made it last night. It's supposed to be good for me somehow.”
I didn't want to tell her exactly how, but apparently Jeeves had other ideas.
“It is made to improve blood circulation, as well as to be easy to rest in and difficult to fall out of.”
Mom took all that in in stride though, not getting angry. She was strangely calm and reflective instead as she asked:
“And Min is in it because she had an episode?”
Jeeves pondered that a moment. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but I had in act already spilled the beans as it were; I'd mentioned he carried me home. I never did respond well to motherly pressure. Instead of words, Jeeves nodded. She turned back to me.
“You alright now?”
“I think so.”
She nodded.
“Good, you can help me with dinner. Will your guests be staying?”
Sam was already breaking for the door, shaking her head violently. Maggie was at least more polite.
“Sorry Mrs. Campbell. Same and I need to work on our homework. Wow, it's dark already!?!”
Oh crap, it was in fact getting dark; the sun had just set. A quick glance at my laptop showed it was after 5. Dad was going to wonder why dinner was so late, if we didn't hurry. Ricky was right behind Sam and Maggie in leaving, with a wave but not a single word. Very unlike him, he knows mom don't care if he stays for dinner. Jeeves shut the garage door behind them, and locked it.
I wobbled a little on my way up, but mom was already back inside and Ian was facing away from me, headed in himself. Jeeves noticed however, his arms slid under mine in order to make sure I wouldn't fall. I hadn't even heard him move the 12 or so feet, he was just there.
“I'm fine Jeeves. I was just a bit dizzy standing up.”
“You should stand up more slowly mistress Min. In low blood pressure situations it is best to approach the vertical posture slowly.”
“Yes, maybe, but we don't really have time for that! We need to make dinner before dad gets home!”
“Relax mistress Min. We have twenty minutes. That is plenty of time for the three of us.”
I went straight to the sink and washed up. I didn't think I touched anything really unsanitary, but mom would be angry if I didn't. Then I stopped. I couldn't cook anything at all. So why was I helping? Especially since we had Jeeves, who absolutely could? I mean, not that I'd tell her, but Jeeves made her cooking look like a skillet dinner.
“Mom?”
She was cutting carrots. She motioned me over and handed me the knife.
“Yes honey?”
“Why are we cooking dinner when we have Jeeves?”
“Because I want to, and I want you to help me. Jeeves is good for you, and good for us... but you'll still need to know how to do things on your own. Just in case. Besides, Jeeves doesn't really know how to make our family stew. So we're teaching him. Now hurry up, the meat is of course ready; but if we don't hurry the vegetables won't be cooked.”
She handed Jeeves a pot full of potatoes and a peeler. We both got to work. I could feel Jeeves's eyes on me however. I looked over and sure enough, he was watching me like a hawk, yet still somehow peeling the potatoes perfectly. Show off.
“Min, pay attention.”
Mom proceeded to tell me what all the spices she was using were, the exact amounts and amounts of veggies used, what types (Monterrey celery? I thought it was just celery) and how to pre-cook and season the meat, which was either beef or deer depending on the season (and whether mom could get venison).
All things she never bothered to explain to any of us before.
It was fairly confusing. On the one hand, cooking was chemistry, and was therefore very interesting. On the other hand, mom was sharing family secrets she never shared before... and that was kind of freaking me out. She was even letting Jeeves hear them and not demanding his silence.
In the end, dad was a little late, so we had dinner ready and on the table by the time he walked in. No rolls though, so we settled on bread and hoped he would be too tired to care. He did like his rolls with the stew.
I could tell the moment he stepped through the door how exhausted he was. His tie was undone and hanging loosely around his neck, he threw his briefcase in the corner by the door. (Mom had long since cleared that particular corner, after dad accidentally shattered a vase doing that.) He plopped in his easy chair, sniffing.
“Is that Campbell stew I'm smelling?”
“Sure is Mr. Campbell. Would you like some?”
“Sure would, just give me a minute. Sigh. Dealing with the regional boss sucks. He's a good guy, but has no idea how we do things here. It's too different from the other places on his route.”
He always was a bit tired after dealing with a boss. The regional boss was the worst.
“It smells a bit different, doesn't it? Did you try something new?”
Wow, some nose dad has.
“No, Min helped this time. I thought it was about time I taught another Campbell the recipe, and she... experimented when I wasn't looking, I think.”
Oh no, she's not pinning this on me!
“That's not true! Though I might have spilled a little too much cumin in there...”
Dad took another sniff.
“And a bit too much oregano, it smells like.”
Hmm, maybe. Mom was distracted harassing dad about his shoes, so I took a taste. It did taste different. Not bad though, just different. I liked it anyway.
“Tastes good to me.”
“Well with that ringing endorsement from the saucier, it has to be good. Come on, old man, to the table with you.”
Dad looked bemused, but he didn't dare mention mom was as old as he was. That path led to the couch for a week or more. Jeeves got the drinks than stood behind me, a silent presence I was very aware of. There was no conversation at first, just pleased noises. Dad broke the silence first.
“Well it could be worse. I was right about the oregano.”
“Duly noted, less next time.”
“Next time I teach you all the steps, including preparing the meat.”
“Sure thing mom.”
Alright so I was reasonably sure I wouldn't like cooking a lot; but learning how to prepare food every once in a while wouldn't be too big a chore. And then just as I started to relax, I was put on the spot.
“So how was your day? Any better?”
“Yes, made a few new friends, and the bullies left me alone.”
I wasn't about to tell them what happened in gym. Telling mom about Gordon had been a mistake, but that one I was forced into when the school called her. While not violating the schoolyard code could get me hurt...violating the schoolyard and bro code could get me very hurt, very fast.
I would have to rely on my wits, such as they were, to keep my head attached.
“Good. Let us know if that changes. Homework done?”
I snorted, which made mom frown. Underneath my non verbal apologetic face, I stated:
“I wouldn't dare work on anything without having my homework done first. You and mom made that very clear..”
“Good. Alright, so what were you working on in there? My car is done, and Jeeves is still whole, and the printer is done....”
“An engine, utilizing hydrogen from water.”
He looked up. Uh oh, he was actually paying attention.
“What kind of engine? Using hydrogen how?”
Crap, asked directly I couldn't lie. They would know.
“Well it's a jet engine, capable of splitting atoms for electricity heat and thrust, with about a 6% over all efficiency. It'll split a water molecule into both forms of hydrogen and oxygen, using the energy given off by the process to power the turbine and add a little additional thrust.”
I couldn't stop a self satisfied nod; I'd explained it pretty simply, and no one looked lost. Except maybe Ian.
“Both forms of hydrogen? More than one?”
“Protium and deuterium, respectively. They are both forms of hydrogen. Protium is more light and occurs more common in nature, while deuterium is heavier and doesn't.”
Dad interrupted.
“I think the most important thing we need to know is, is it safe?”
That hurt. That hurt a lot. Before I knew it I was shouting.
“Of course it's safe! The engine can't use more than a small glass full of water at a time at full throttle, and that's not enough to explode unless it's completely sealed off! Your car has a better chance of exploding! Your new car, not the beast! How dare you think that I would....”
“Minerva Myrciel Campbell! That is enough!”
My full name was enough to shock me to full awareness again. Dad was turning purple and rising from his chair, Ian was in full retreat and mom was in between us. I could feel Jeeves behind me; he shifted some and I was afraid of what that meant.
“Sorry mom.”
“I'm not the one that needs the apology.”
Oh no. Oh heck no. Not in a million years.
“I'm not apologizing to dad, mom. He just implied that I would endanger my family and friends.”
I didn't like the look in her eye; but I wasn't about to back down. Dad was in the wrong here. Surely they both saw it... and if they didn't I'd make them see it.
“You are going to apologize Minerva. Let's run down what we know about your condition. You've already built things without our permission, in the dead of night; things we only know a little about. Things that could be dangerous, whether they have been so far or not. You've been getting ahead of yourself due to this compulsion your type of mutant has.”
She was actually ticking off points on her fingers.
“And lastly, the printer you made seems to want to eat people and dance to music. Is that in the design specs anywhere? See where I'm going with this?”
My fingernails were cutting into my palms, and my vision was suddenly blurry.
“Actually the dancing is; and I think I know why it acted like it wanted to eat Jeeves... he's made of metals after all, and the 3D printer uses those. But yes I get the message loud and clear. I'm a menace; a walking, talking, ticking, time bomb, and you're all waiting for me to blow. You're right, I'll apologize.”
I turned to dad. I could barely see him. I'd left my glasses somewhere and the tears were in the way, so he was just a blob.
“I'm sorry I'm such a crazy screw up. I'll go ground myself now.”
One good thing about this body; it was light and very fast when it wanted to be. Only Jeeves was able to keep up with me, which suited me just fine. I let him in the slammed the door.
“You have any emergency lock down procedures designed to keep me safe in the event of a break-in?”
“Yes mistress Min, of course. Why do you ask?”
“I'd like to use them. Non- damaging of course, but I really don't want to talk to my family right now.”
He reached up faster than I could follow and wiped my eyes.
“They hurt you?”
That realization on Jeeves's part could prove everything my family was afraid of. I knew it could, and that just made everything worse.
“Not very much, but listen. You can't hurt them at all, understand? No matter what, they are my family. That's an order, and non negotiable. Just keep them away from me for a while.”
His eyes flashed red, then blue, then green before going back to normal.
“I understand mistress Min, and I obey. Please try to calm down and sleep. I will make sure none hurt you tonight.”
I nodded and blew a sigh. I tried to smile for him, but I don't think I succeeded. When he turned his back to secure the door I just flopped on my bed. My pillows were just as good at absorbing sobs as screams.
I woke with my face stiff with dried tears. I shrugged; it was getting to be a habit, if an unpleasant one. It wasn't even worth mentioning anymore really. A slight shift to a more comfortable position and Jeeves over me, his weirdly expressive face giving away his concern.
I had had a somewhat restful night; at least as restful as I normally did. I hadn't even been disturbed by anyone knocking on the door.
I tried to ignore the numb feeling. Not one of my family even cared enough to check on me. Maybe I was over reacting last night; perhaps I had been too distraught. But my family's lack of any concern at all for my emotional well being seemed to state otherwise. That realization that my formerly loving family thought they couldn't trust me still hurt; the fact that they didn't even care about how I felt about it shocked me to my core.
I gathered my clothes while Jeeves disabled the lock-down, which consisted of a small machine placed over the doorknob.
Then I opened the door.
Ian was sprawled out in the hall in a sleeping bag, snoring away. I nearly tripped over him. Quietly stepping over him, I looked back to warn Jeeves of his presence, and caught sight of the other side of my door.
It was now sporting large gouge marks, shallow but long. Perhaps made by a big knife? But they seemed too symmetrical, as if by five knives at once... or Freddy Krueger claws? The door knob itself was dented and broken.
In short at least someone had cared enough to beat the hell out of my door. And I hadn't heard a thing.
I held my finger to my lips to silence Jeeves, and he knew what it meant. We crept around, I into the bathroom and he into the kitchen. It was nearing 6 am, and while running into Ian was acceptable, running into my parents was straight out.
I hated confrontations, and was not willing to just forgive them right out. They really thought I was no better than that ass we had stirring up trouble over the summer. I didn't even know how I could forgive that, even if I wanted to try.
Luckily enough, even though a quick shower now involved a good 20 to 25 minutes including waking up and hair time, no one seemed to be awake when I cautiously stepped out. Ian was still asleep, rather loudly. Out here he couldn't hear his alarm going off. I poked him with a toe as I went by.
“Zzznerk. What?”
“Wake up little brother, you'll miss school.”
“Huh? Min!?!”
And I was promptly rewarded for my good deed of the day by being knocked down by a meat projectile.
“Ow! Ian, shhh! Mom and dad are asleep, and I want it to stay that way!”
Say what you want about my little brother, but he was never really slow on the uptake. He looked like he wanted to explode under the pressure of unspoken words, but instead he hugged me tight for a moment and then got off.
“Sorry.”
I had a feeling that apology was meant for more than knocking me down or yelling.
“Don't worry Ian, I'm fine. None of what happened was your fault.”
He was smart alright... he caught the lie as soon as I said it.
“What time is it?”
“7:30.”
“Oh my god I'm going to be so late! Look, I need to get ready, but trust me on this, alright? They didn't mean it. They were out here all night, trying to get to you; we all were. Jeeves did something to lock us out.”
“I know, I asked him to. Just go get ready, breakfast will be waiting for you. Try not to wake them up alright?”
“You know this isn't going to go away if you dodge them.”
He gave me a long suffering sigh which I ignored.
“No, it won't. But I just don't feel like it right now. I'd rather be in school than deal with this.”
I'd rather go to school than deal with my parents right now; how screwed up was that? I left him to get cleaned up and headed downstairs to find a simply huge omelet filled with an unusual smell completely covering my plate. My coffee was already done and steaming next to it, with a small milk on the other side.
The old me would have an issue eating all of that; the new me? No way I could.
Jeeves was busy making another one, a little smaller. I spotted bacon, ham, and basil going into the mix with the cheese. Rather than question it I just sat down with knife and fork.
Once that omelet was done and beverages distributed at Ian's customary table setting, Jeeves touched up my coffee and sat down. So, no breakfast for the parents. I should order him to do it, but I was feeling pretty petty. Heck for all I cared, dad could miss work.
I only managed to get half of breakfast down, but it was tasty. I wish I knew how Jeeves did it. Then again if I did I'd likely have to do it myself, and that would be wasting time better spent elsewhere. I had, even in the midst of my fever dream, built Jeeves for this very purpose after all.
I hoped I'd have a handle on this by the end of school today; if not I might have to find a place to stay. I half didn't want to come home. For all that my loving family seemed to care by trying to ruin my door, they didn't trust me. I really didn't want to stay where I wasn't trusted. But then again, where could I go? Where would I be trusted; if not by my family, then who?
I could deal with such things from strangers. The same from my friends, former friends, and peers alike. It hurt.. It hurt a lot. But I could do it. But from my family such lack of trust was an entirely new level of hurt. Sure, Ian said it wasn't like that, but what did he know? He was a kid.
“Stop it sis.”
Stop what?
“What?”
“You're brooding. I can see you doing it. Don't, you'll starting driving yourself crazy.”
“What do you mean you can see me do it?”
He grinned.
“And there is your curious face. I've been keeping an eye on you, and you're still as expressive as ever. I can tell what you're feeling just as well as I ever could, even the new things.”
“That's... pretty creepy, Ian. And what do you mean new things?”
“Well, you never used to brood before.”
I took a little offense at that, gathering my school supplies and shoving them in my backpack with perhaps a little more force than necessary.
“I wasn't brooding Ian.”
He shrugged.
“Well I don't know what else to call it.”
“How about thinking?”
Though I did used to think as Myrc... didn't I?
He shook his head again.
“Thinking implies you aren't worrying yourself to death looking for meanings that don't exist in statements other people make, and then contemplating doing something drastic about it.”
I rounded on him.
“I did not hear anything that mom didn't say. She said it, dad said it, they both said it. The only reason I'm talking to you is you didn't say it. Oh and Ian; you have dishes to do.”
I hit the door running, Jeeves right behind me. His indignant squawk was music to my ears. I was still a bit early, but the running felt good. Any physical activity I could actually do without collapsing felt good at this point, and physically I felt awake, and alert. My energy levels seemed better than they had been since my mutation.
Of course, I wasn't buying it. The anemia as supposed to be a persistent condition; but for now I would take what I could get. I blew past my resident shadows with waves for both, One of whom was in a car and returned my wave with rolled eyes, and the other....
The other was chasing me.
This had been the first time I had seen MCO agent Leonard Sands both close to me and alone. I admit the sight of him actually running after me filled me with a small amount of dread. Surely he wasn't silly enough to try kidnapping me off the street alone, with a CIA presence very aware and in a car not 50 feet behind us?
I was pretty sure Jeeves was not in the mood. One wrong move and MCO agent Leonard Sands would find himself a human pretzel, very likely with salt included. He had to know how he looked; a man in his mid 40's with a beaten up trench coat over a short sleeved dress shirt and slacks running after a young woman.
He looked rather ridiculous puffing along, in fact.
Ricky was not at our corner; I was apparently too early. Perfect. I decided to try and push it. Before I had the strength and conditioning to easily run all the way to school. Yesterday I had started at the midway point, but today I'd try for the full distance.
That and we would see if the MCO's finest could keep up. I am feeling pretty rude at the moment.
“Hey, come on Minerva! Wait up!”
Aww darn it. Now I couldn't pretend that I hadn't heard him.
“I'm trying something here Mr. Sands! Keep up please, then we can talk after!”
The minor annoyance of wasting breath melted away when I heard his yell of 'alright!' (thereby wasting his own breath) and another yell behind me. I think it was Ricky. I couldn't make out what he was yelling, and I admit I didn't try too hard.
Proper breathing was key. I managed to make it all the way to the school gates before I all but keeled over, feeling like my lungs would explode. Jeeves of course was right behind me, and was probably on his slowest setting. I bet he had setting just to screw with me; that would explain so much!
The increased noise of clopping footsteps told me I had company. Mr. sands hauled up, blowing much harder than I did with clear reproach he couldn't properly express in his eyes. I waited patiently with a smile until he could resume upright posture.
“Miss Campbell, that was cruel. Simply cruel! I'm an old man, forced to follow you and then you run off just when I was going to ask you a question!”
“I'm sorry Mr. Sands, but I felt like running and decided to test my stamina while I was at it.”
“Oh? And how did you do?”
Was it me, or did I hear more interest than I should here?
“Terribly I'm afraid. Before I could have run this route with no problem, and still been able to run laps around the track. My forms getting better, but my stamina is still crap.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
I waved that off, even though he did sound genuinely sorry. Not much I could do to change it, it simply was. I wasn't even sure that my regen power would let me work my stamina back up; some forms of regen did, and some did not.
“Anyway, what was your question?”
He actually paused and gave a sort of shudder; the ripple seemed to transform him from butt of a joke to a serious professional.
“Did you notice anything strange happening around your house last night?”
Urk.
“No Mr. Sands, I didn't. Though Jeeves used some sort of device to block out sound; to help me sleep. Why, did something happen?”
“No, just thought I saw something is all. There was some yelling last night though...?”
“My family and I had a fight. I'd prefer not to talk about it.”
“You don't have to if you don't want to. Adjustments like this can be rough; I know, I've seen them all. For the record your family and hometown are accepting you much better than most would. Sorry, don't mean to preach; you better get going, you'll be late for class.”
He walked off with a wave just as Ricky showed up and tried to skewer him with a death glare. Well at least today I'd managed not to get overtaken by him. Even if I had to start well before he did in order to win.
Now there was a moral for you; cheat to win. No way would I do that.
“Min, why didn't you wait? Was that guy bothering you?”
I gave him my best 'duh' look.
“Because I didn't want to talk to the guy you just scared off. And he wasn't bothering me per se, just kind of annoying. That's the MCO guy, Leonard Sands, close up.”
“Oh, so that's the guy huh? He doesn't look so tough.”
I punched him in the arm. He barely noticed, the jerk.
“He doesn't need to be; he can get power armor air-dropped here inside of 13 minutes with a phone call. That's the real threat.”
I could forgive the skepticism he showered me with.
“Really? And just how do you know that?”
I waited just before going through the doors of the school for the appropriate dramatic flair.
“The internet of course.”
“What? They just post things like that on the internet?”
I shook my head.
“The MCO doesn't, sure. But other people do. Some enterprising citizens managed to time the rapid response times of the MCO in the area, from the old decommissioned air force base they bought at Chinook. So here should be half the time of their response to Cedar creek, a town noted in the data and twenty minutes away by car.”
Ricky immediately focused on the most important question... of sorts.
“Chinook has mutants?”
On any other day I'd try to hide my irritation. Not today.
“No, they have had 1 manifestation, and one incident. Both incidents apparently warranted some sort of response, and the MCO was commissioned to deal with both threats. The manifesting mutant was a fire type, apparently that's a pretty common power, and the other was a villain named 'Strobe'. Both incidents were handled successfully and are a matter of public record.”
“What happened to the mutant who manifested? Did the MCO kill the... guy? Girl? None of the above?”
“A him, and no there is video footage. The MCO's hands are clean on this one at least; the poor guy melted under the influence of his own power. It seems he had the power to generate heat and flame... but no resistance to it.”
Finally we made it to the classroom; Ricky had been doing a pretty good job distracting me from my problems, but I just wanted to relax, and he wouldn't take the hint.
“That's just sick. You saw this footage?”
I nodded as I sat down. Hopefully he would shut up once the teacher got here. That would be nice.
“Yes, it was on YouTube for over 24 hours before it was taken down. It's all over a thousand seeded pirate sites now. If you want I can show you later.”
The green tinge he was sporting was amusing.
“No, that's alright, thanks. I don't want to see someone melt in any way shape or form. Wow, guess you are actually kinda lucky, huh?”
I couldn't help but notice him cock back his arm to punch me in my own, then stop as if unsure whether he would break me or not. I couldn't really fault him, as much as I wanted to. I was pretty weak.
“Yes Ricky, I am luckier than some, though not as lucky as most. I do appreciate not spontaneously bursting into flames though.”
Just in the nick of time, Mr. Welch came in.
“Alright class, settle down and let's get started. Pass your homework to the front please.”
There were some groans as a few students remembered that they forgot to do said homework. That was pretty standard. I would never be one of them again, at least. Nothing wrong with my memory. Ricky had remembered his too, and passed it up. A quick glance as it went by revealed it to be... wrong. Not just a little wrong; very, glaringly, wrong.
I had also forgotten my laptop. This was mildly bad. I'd have to actually use notepads.
I mean, fish flipper musculature just wasn't wired that way! The tendons were all in the wrong places!
It actually took effort to refrain from commenting, and I basked in the slight stab of pride I felt when I managed it. When Ricky started to talk again I simply pointed front, and directed my attention there. I caught his frown from the corner of my eye, but decided to ignore that too.
I didn't think I'd told him I had already read the book. Maybe my memory wasn't perfect? Come to think of it, what did I have for breakfast yesterday? Some sort of bagel thingie? On the other hand, I could remember every detail of the jet engine I worked on yesterday, from the tolerances required in a liquid fuel line to the shielding chamber I designed to store any radioactive fuel, if I decided to go that route.
So maybe it was selective?
Maybe I was reading too much into this. But if my memory had suddenly grown selective from a technical standpoint, then would I lose more of me? Lose even the memories that made me, me? No, wait. Don't let your thoughts spin out of control; remember what Ian said earlier. Maybe this is what he meant by brooding?
“You OK?”
Ricky had a look of concern plastered on his face while staring straight ahead with glazed eyes at the blackboard, where Mr. Welch was diagramming the musculature of whales. He looked ridiculous, honestly.
“Ricky... do I brood?”
“Hah? What's that mean?”
Wait, he didn't know? Oh, right, he didn't read that much. Come to think of it, neither did I, so where did I know it from? No, focus! Focus!
“It means to think or worry persistently over a problem or situation.”
“Hmm, then yes you do lately. You never used to worry about stuff, and now you do.”
In my surprise I almost spoke normally as opposed to a whisper.
“I do?”
He gave a faint nod, still looking at the blackboard, still looking faintly ridiculous. But well, if Ricky noticed it, then it had to be true. Ricky was hardly the best at noticing things, even those things right in front of his face.
The lab section was easy, of course. The egg cradle took on some semblance of life as Ricky followed my plans, and I made adjustments, Our egg would most certainly survive. Aside from the occasional broken sentence, we didn't even talk.
“Here.”
“No, like this.”
“But what if...”
“This.”
He sat back in a mild form of awe.
“Ahh, so that's how...”
The other teams were somewhat less far along. Most were still in the planning stages. One team, I kid you not... had a box. A box! No way that was going to work. Even with the illegal tissues they were smuggling in to fill it with.
Toilet paper would have been better for that anyway.
The ringing bell shouldn't have taken me by surprise, but it did. I started stuffing things in my bag.
“Ralph, can you stow the cradle?”
There was a spot under the desk where all our projects were kept.
“Sure. See you in the next class.”
“See you there.”
Normally I'd do it myself, but I trusted Ralph, and I had to go to the freaking bathroom. Stupid walnut sized bladder. Stupid coffee. Stupid world. The bathroom was empty, which made it easy for me. I wasn't the only one to have a problem though, someone else passed me on my way out, without even a second glance.
I knew they had to know who I was, my hair alone announced that clearly. But whoever it was didn't care. Or maybe their bladder was too small for them to care just yet, and they would yell bloody murder at me later. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop among the girls, but they were acting like something straight out of the Twilight Zone... Or Stepford.
I couldn't say the acceptance wasn't welcome, but it felt weird; a little off for it to happen that easily. As if the girls attending school, who didn't even really know me, were more accepting of me than my own family.
It couldn't possibly be true of course, but the illusion was strong today. I wondered whether the lie was that the girls were accepting, or that my family was.
“Good morning.”
Sam. I pasted on a smile which felt in danger of slipping, (Why now, when I had been dealing so well all morning?) and turned to her.
“Good morning Sam.”
She of course, saw right through me and went from semi-vacant to full blown alarm in not time at all.
“What's wrong?”
My throat locked up.
“It's... look, I'll tell you later, alright? We need to get into class before Mr. Mullins calls us absent.”
She nodded.
“Later.”
Ralph was already in his seat as I took mine, and I settled in as a few more almost late students trickled in. He raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing, for which I was grateful. I could feel Sam's eyes on me from the back of the classroom.
Algebra was as easy as it was yesterday. The numbers did their new but customary dance inside my head and I scribbled down the answers to the equations Mr. Mullins eeked on the blackboard, in a few cases before he was done writing the entire problem.
It was all so boring!
In despair I started scribbling my own math in the margins... dealing with black holes and magnetic containment of such. Done right, a small (micro sized) black hole could be dropped into such containment and be fed a molecule at a time, with a return on the matter investment of right around 90%. That would be enough to make a unit the size of a large car battery able to power a city block.
Possibly anyway, at least that was what the maths were telling me. I'd have to dig deeper to be certain, burn rates and energy conversions and material construction and....
“Min, you OK?”
I looked up, blinking and a little tired all of a sudden. Ralph was above me, with Sam next to him and both were staring directly at me... along with a few other people.
“Huh?”
Ralph pointed down to my notebook, which was now filled with a few diagrams and reams of equations. Some only half finished and trailing off disturbingly.
“You were off in wonderland again. What was it this time?”
“Oh.”
Crap.
Their looks demanded an answer. I stood up and wobbled a little. Ralph grabbed me quickly in a gentle but firm grip to make sure I didn't fall and Sam just grabbed my stuff and looked at me expectantly.
“I'm fine, just got a little dizzy, is all. And it's the same thing ti was yesterday; power systems.”
Sam spared a glance at the notebook.
“Nuclear?”
“A good guess, but no. This one involves magnets.”
I didn't want to tell it it also involved a working black hole. She would likely freak out. Everyone likely would.
“Like Jeeves?”
Wow, Sam actually paid attention when I said things.
“Not quite. This one is more containment of a persistent electro-magnetic field than the more simplistic use of electro-magnets in motion to power something.”
Sam and Ralph both nodded understanding as we moved. I got more steady with each passing step and finally gave a gentle shake to dislodge Ralph, with a smile to thank him for his help. He left us at the door to geography to go to his own class. Come to think of it, I didn't know what class he had this period. I'd have to ask later.
Sam took over for him though, hovering right at my elbow until I was safely ensconced in my seat. It would be nice if it wasn't so cloying. I could darn well walk on my own! I just needed a minute was all.
“Morning Sam, morning Min! Say have you heard the news?!?”
Ahh Maggie, the smiling bundle of energy. She draped herself around us both, dragging Sam ionto a crouch as she whispered conspiratorially.
“The school just announced the Halloween party! We all need to go, and go in style! We should plan costumes later, in study hall, OK?”
I nodded and Maggie moved, dragged a wide eyed Sam away, to her seat, whispering the entire time. They were plotting, of course, but not everything had to involve me. I was hoping this was one of those times.
Geography made me bored, but I didn't want to zone out again. So I amused myself by calculating the height of various mountains pictured in the text by extrapolating size based on picture scale then working up from there. I could get the answers to the foot; the textbook itself provided the answers. Mrs. Carson didn't seem to mind as long as I was keeping myself occupied.
I'd managed to work my way through most of the text by the time the bell rang; on to the next class, and so far I'd survived. Of course, my third class being over meant that the worst was yet to come. I snuck as best I could until waylaid by Maggie, who somehow managed to be completely silent while sneaking up on me.
“No, none of that, come on! You can at least bond with us before gym, even if you cant play.”
And with an arm around my neck, much the same way as she dragged Sam around, she dragged me into the girl's locker room. During rush hour, so to speak. I stood in the corner, trying to blend into the background as best I was able with bright hair as everyone chatted and got dressed. As usual, Maggie was the loudest, though all the girls were chatting about the party and who they hoped asked them out to it.
I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. Pam, likewise, was silent. And staring at me with a look of unfocused anger. What had I done to piss her off now? Every time I made a break for the door, Maggie or Sam stopped me, while still dressing and chatting. So shouldn't her anger be directed at one of both of them? They were keeping me here, after all.
The general atmosphere in the place was friendly and welcoming overall. I might have to ask my new friends if they knew anything about why some people who had never had a problem with me before did now. The answer was likely the mutant one, but someone had to know for sure, and I wanted to.
After all, I couldn't fix a problem I didn't know about. And while I was tempted to just try and ignore it and hope the problem went away, recent events suggested that would be a bad idea. Thankfully Maggie and Sam let me escape just as soon as they themselves were dressed, and I went to join my sole gym partner, already in the bleachers and breaking out his colored paper.
Which reminded me, I had forgotten to buy some of that. Ordinary paper would just have to do, even though it was thicker and therefore harder to fold well. Not to mention ugly by comparison. I took a seat well up in the bleachers, in effect dragging Ralph up with me.
Bernie would find it very hard to hit us with a basketball up here. He could peg either of us, but we would have more time to react. .07 seconds, to be more precise, and how I know that I don't really know. Instead I opened the book on origami and looked for something simple.
I'd already done the jumping frog, so maybe the ladybug?
“You know, I've seen you draw schematics... I think you can manage something for me.”
Alarm bells went off in my head, but I was curious.
“And what's that?”
“Well, I need a tree. Or at least, a picture of a tree. I don't draw that well, but you do. So I want you to draw me one.”
He was clearly insane.
“Ralph, buddy, I don't draw. I sketch schematics. I've never drawn anything more complex than stick figures in my life.”
“Now that's not true. It might have been before, but I saw your notebook this morning. Your power supply looks like what it's supposed to. Just... schematic me a tree. Look in my text if you have to, but I want a tree. You owe me, and I'm calling in the debt.”
He shoved a piece of unlined paper and a pencil in my hands, and set his textbook across my lap, already open to a page with a tree on it. An oak, I think. I did owe him... a little. But I wasn't sure I owed him enough for what would undoubtedly be blackmail material later.
Well at least he hadn't done anything really awkward. His own fault if he wanted a crappy drawing. He sat down in front of me, back turned and watching the boys while he folded cranes. I didn't blame him, I would too. I certainly didn't want a repeat beaning. I couldn't see though because he was in front of me; I was too darn short.
So what else could I do? I sat back and drew.
By the time gym class was over, I had a somewhat credible tree. Well, at least, you could tell it was a tree. I still didn't have the details of the bark looking quite right, but the leaves looked OK. The lighting also looked a little sketchy. There was more I felt could be done to it, but it was my third try, and the bell had been a good minute ago and lunch was waiting.
Ralph accepted it without a word, and I really didn't want to stick around to see the disappointment set in. That and if I waited too long, I had no doubt Jeeves would come looking for me, school rules or not.
“Sorry, got to go!”
One of the few pluses about being small is it didn't take much effort to fly, and if I wanted now, I could simply move through groups of people or bounce off of them, as opposed to running them over. I don't even think the people I slipped between even notice I was there.
I met Jeeves coming in the door as I was heading out of it. Beyond him at the tree, I could see a table set up with a white tablecloth and three fold out seats. Maggie and Sam were already in two with their own lunches, and my place had been set, complete with what I was assuming was grape juice. There was a small gauntlet of student to run in getting to the tree, the curious; but they parted for us.
“Mistress Min, you are one minute and 42 seconds late. You have an elevated heart rate and are short of breath. Has anything occurred?”
“Nothing at all, just got caught up doing something in gym class. Sorry about being late, but we still have plenty of time.”
He once more resumed his position behind me, my comforting shadow. For my part I was famished, but walked now that I could to my place setting.
My lunch today was some sort of chicken salad, but it didn't look like a normal salad... were those radishes in there? Garlic? Mint? The bowl next to it was rice with those small orange slices in it
“Couscous salad with vinaigrette, Mistress Min, with rice marinated in Cara Cara oranges on the side. The drink is blackberry juice, a favorite berry of yours.”
He handed me a fork. How did he even get blackberries to juice? It was good, and couldn't be concentrate. The rice had a light sweet taste imparted by the oranges, and the salad was an interesting melange of tastes that I didn't quite know how to classify.
It was all very good though. My table mates took notice, and though Sam only rolled her eyes and continued eating her sandwich (a six inch sub from a sandwich shop) Maggie had something to say.
“Dang! The way you're going at that salad, it must be something special!”
“It's... weird. Do you want a bite?”
She backpedaled so quickly she almost fell off her chair.
“No, thanks. It's your lunch and I have my own. I wouldn't want to take any.”
She didn't notice the rather pointed look Sam hit her with – or pretended not to notice, instead staring at her own pbj sandwich and giving a forlorn sigh of the damned. I didn't really see any spare parts to the lunch I could give away; there was only one serving there. Well that and the candle of course, somehow blazing merrily away in defiance of the breeze. A devisor candle? What would the point of that be? I would have to ask Jeeves.
With a shrug Maggie pulled a thing of yogurt and a plastic spoon out of her crumpled paper bag. Seemed like a nutritious lunch to me; maybe I should pack a peanut butter sandwich tomorrow? I kind of missed them. Still, I couldn't resist a little needling; I was feeling a little brave today.
“I don't think Sam believes you about the food.”
Sam nodded along to my statement.
“Food thief.”
Maggie got all indignant.
“I am not! I only borrow a thing here and there, when Sam has more than enough for both of us.”
Sam shook her head.
“Pack extra in case.”
So Sam was used to it. Maybe I should ask Jeeves to pack more too? Would it really take that much more time to make more than one serving? I didn't know. Another question to ask him. But before I could Maggie blindsided em with a question of her own that I'd almost forgotten about and been dreading.
“So, what's going on? You were pretty upset this morning.”
And just like that the salad might as well be greasy gravel. Maggie crossed the distance and grabbed me in a hug; I vaguely wondered why Jeeves let her.
“What's wrong? What happened? I'm sorry if I did something....”
“No. no, no! It wasn't you! It was my parents!”
I quickly filled them in on the argument we all had last night, and my reaction to it. I spared nothing, and didn't try to make myself look better. I just told them what happened with as little bias as possible. It took longer than I thought, and the wind blew smoke or something in my eyes often. But I managed to finish with a steady voice.
Sam had joined Maggie on my opposite side, at some point moving when I wasn't aware of it.
“Darn, that's rough girl. What were your parents, thinking?!? Didn't they raise you better than that? How can they not trust their own work? I mean, it's you. How can they think that you would go from well, you, to someone like the poisoner? That's just screwed up!”
Sam added her two cents.
“Worried.”
“Well of course they are worried! No reason to go off on Min though, she can't help it!”
It felt rather gratifying to have them both in my corner, with no reservation at all. Even if I was as much in the wrong as my parents were.
“No, they are at least partly right. I was planning to make dangerous things. That jet engine and it's power supply are both potentially dangerous.”
Maggie dismissed that idea out of hand.
“Pfft, so's a car, and teens drive those all the time. Other kids get to build and fly in planes or ultra-lights, what's so different about you doing it?
I shrugged. I couldn't really answer that question.
“They aren't using fusion power systems to do it? I don't know.”
Maggie was on a roll, and didn't let my words so much as slow her down.
“Not even a concern, Min. You wouldn't build something that could hurt us on purpose. And if you did, Jeeves wouldn't let you or us use it. No need to even stress about it.”
I looked at Sam and she nodded complete agreement. A look at Jeeves and he nodded briskly, conceding Maggie's point. So he was my safety net in more ways than one? I wasn't sure that I wanted to trust him that far. But in the long run, did I have a choice? Could I keep myself from building the better doomsday device?
No, I had to try to rein myself in. If only to prove that I could do it; to my parents and myself. And of course I had to apologize to my parents. I still wasn't looking forward to that; right or wrong, they would likely try to inhibit my building things. Maybe if I just built things that couldn't possibly be used for anything crazy or hurt anyone, I could satisfy my strange urges to create without causing problems.
Of course, it would be even better if I could do that somewhere other than my dad's garage workshop. Something else to consider. Were there any other good spots to build things in this town? Perhaps Jeeves would know, he had to be doing something when I was in school. I bet he did know, and was waiting for me to ask. It would be just like him.
Sam of all people broke the silence, and my musings. She knocked a knee to mine gently.
“Hey. It'll get better.”
I gave her the best smile I could under the circumstances as Maggie joined in.
“Yeah! We will go with you tonight and help you with your parents. We will make them see reason! They can't treat you like a criminal!”
Wow, where had these two been hiding all this time? They were as solid as Ricky. Maybe even more so.
“Thanks, you two.”
Yes it was kind of dirty, bringing them home for the inevitable blow up; it certainly wasn't right to drag them into this. But I felt like I needed the support. I did not want to go home and then lose my nerve, and that could happen.
But then again, if I got my friends involved, what kind of a friend was I? Once again my reverie was broken.
“Think nothing of it, Min. We may not have all the answers, but you aren't alone in all this.”
I couldn't help buy gape. That had to be the most I'd ever heard Sam say, and she used a complete sentence! Maggie was gaping right alongside me. With a mischievous grin Sam reached over and closed our mouths gently, then blanked her face and stated:
“Late.”
And sure enough, the bell to signal the end of lunch started ringing.
“Aah, crap! Jeeves can you pack up?”
With a bow and a look that all but screamed 'are you kidding me?' he responded.
“Of course, mistress Min.”
Without further thought spared that direction I grabbed my bag and ran; I wasn't all that good at these mushy moments. They made me uncomfortable. In not time at all however, Sam was beside me. I could hear Maggie puffing along behind us, so at least I had that going for me. Or maybe that was: Sam and I had that going for us?
Unlike on the way out, we had to slow down once we hit the doors. There were just too many people around to risk hitting one.
And on to study hall, where I could do all my homework. I swear my pencils seemed to smoke as I wrote answers. Nothing at all wrong with my hand speed or finger dexterity. Once again getting all my homework done was child's play, though I did feel a little odd afterwards. Almost like I had run a small marathon or played a full 40 minutes in a basketball game. Kind of really odd; I hope nothing else was going wrong.
And once again, speeding through it all left me with nothing to do once I got home, unless I tinkered. Which my family was dead set against. Maybe I'd get some really good long assignment in english class.
And maybe pigs would develop anti-gravity harnesses and fly.
Or maybe I should....
The bell rang and I looked up to find Maggie, Sam, Ricky, and Ralph all around me, crowding me and looking down at my notebook, where I had drawn a flying pig using an anti-gravity harness. I felt my face heat up and closed it in a hurry. How had Ralph gotten here so quickly? He had a math class this period I thought. Sam of course made it all worse by summing things up her way:
“Cute.”
“What? No way! You didn't see anything!”
Maggie opened her mouth but I beat her to the punch.
“You. Saw. Nothing.”
Ralph had a small knowing grin but his voice was steady and free from any laughter.
“Come on, last class then we can free ourselves from this madhouse.”
Ricky was busy shooting eye venom at Ralph to say anything, but he nodded over the sentiment. I got up and we all tromped over to our last class of the day like prisoners to an execution. I wasn't sure what everyone else's problem was, but for me it was going to be mind crushing boredom. Unlike the clean lines and performance of math, English was messy. Both messy and not something I could really rush, since it was also required some subjectivity on the part of the participants.
And today we were working on more Shakespeare. King Lear to be precise. What was the deal with King Lear, and why did we have to suffer through his story? No idea. Some king decides to hand out goodies before he dies based on who can butter him up the best. No way that idea ever has bad consequences.
A little bit of class time spent on the time period good old William wrote it in, and the legends king Lear was based on pretty much put us all to sleep in addition to eating class time. The bell rang but we could not escape the tedium; Mrs. Holmes assigned reading this trash to us... first chapter due tomorrow, complete with the book questionnaire on it. Ten questions that only Mrs. Holmes will ever care about.
Oh well I shouldn't complain; my grade in English has gone up almost a full letter. And of course the longer English lasted, the more time before I went home. I could deal with all the time in the world before going home, really. Now it was my turn to drag my feet; and I mean really drag my feet. Maggie would have none of that, however.
“Come on Min, we need to go or Jeeves will be chewing down the walls looking for you!”
Chewing down the walls looking for me? But that didn't even make any sense! Sam grabbed my arm as I turned to call her on it, and Sam was strong. Rather than just get dragged along I decided on the path of dignity and picked up my own pace.
Once again, Jeeves was on his way through the door as I reached it. He raised a sculpted eyebrow and just turned around once I got close enough, his tall form sort of breaking the human wave for us. I would normally appreciate it, but it meant going home that much sooner. Dread was tying my stomach in knots. My dad I could handle, but my mom was flat out scary when angered. And I had definitely angered her last night. I could almost hear the dirge keeping time with each step.
Once outside the bright sunlight cheered me somewhat, even though the distinct lack of heat meant that fall's days were numbered. Halfway down the block I spotted the late model ford sedan which all but screamed 'government!'
And behind that, was Leonard Sands the intrepid MCO agent. Who was currently scarfing down some sort of chili dog or similar bad for you food thing (it was hard to tell at this distance) and not making any particular effort to stay hidden at all.
Of course, neither was the CIA in their obvious unmarked sedan.
With a shrug I continued and started leading our strange procession; Jeeves had taken his customary place behind me now that the student wave had broken. The traffic wasn't even heavy at the moment, which made the sedan stick out even more than it otherwise would have. Not that slowly pacing us a good hundred feet behind was helping it.
I wondered as I turned into my drive, my entire posse behind me (even Ricky, which seemed a little odd), if the CIA knew what happened last night. And then there was no more time to think silly thoughts. Because my parents – both of them – were waiting at the open door.
I only managed to make it halfway up to them when mom hit me with the force of a small car, knocking us both back into Jeeves and then down, and hugging me so hard my ribs creaked.
“I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...!”
“Mom, can't breathe....”
She loosened up with a guilty look. I vaguely wondered where Jeeves was, he was supposed to be protecting me! Dad blocked out the sun with a stern visage, stating:
“Well we decided magnamimous... magninimous... um, with a big heart to forgive you.”
Then he smiled to put the lie to it. Then he dragged mom and I both back up into standing position and into a hug of his own.
“I'm sorry, Min. You're right, we should trust you. You've done nothing wrong and we should trust you.”
I shook my head through the stupid tears.
“No, you guys are right. I'm sorry. I need to be more careful about what I build and how.”
This surprised them both, though only dad spoke up in his surprise.
“You are? You do?”
I nodded.
“I have an idea that will help me do things; but it'll seem like a bad idea at first. You guys are going to have to trust me, OK? I'll listen to you, but you need to trust me this one time, please?”
And they were hugging me again, with help, as Sam and Maggie and Ian got into the act. I was having trouble breathing again. Mom was still a little more wary.
“What's your plan?”
“Well, I'm going to need one of those pre fab garages in the backyard... and then we move everything out there. I make a few more androids like Jeeves, but more limited, to do much of the actual building and testing of the stuff I want to make; you know, take over the dangerous things, and then we can all be happy. I can build and test things to make life better for everyone, and none of us need to worry about the danger or getting hurt from it.”
I really hoped I wasn't lying to my parents, but the compulsion to work on the power system that shall not be named aloud was strong. I just KNEW it would help humanity... not to mention powering the other things I wanted to make. But fusion and fission had to happen first. Dad asked the question I was dreading.
“And how do we pay for this garage workshop of yours? Got any ideas?”
Well at least he wasn't discarding the idea outright. We did have a big yard, one that could easily support the large pre-fabricated garage I envisioned. But paying for it would be a problem.
“If I may suggest something....”
A cold pit opened in my stomach. Jeeves had an idea. This day was getting beyond normal bad, even with my parents being so understanding. Even worse I couldn't shake the feeling that my parents were up to something. This entire apology session had gone too easy; and that thought made me feel guilty, angry, and somehow vindicated all at once. And feeling vindicated when thinking the worst of your parents has a tendency to make you feel dirty. At least, it does for me.
“Mistress Min currently holds several patents at the United States Patent office. I submitted them online as she finished their blueprints and construction. The nozzle design for the # dimensional printer in particular are very valuable. With proper marketing those patents should be easy to sell for the necessary funds.”
Wait, what? I was staring up into his smug looking face as close as I could manage before my brain caught up and I realized that was probably a bad idea. But this was a betrayal worse than my parents not trusting me!
“You've been sneaking behind my back and filing my designs, then selling them?”
He shook his head.
“No mistress Min. Not I. Mr. Green.”
A glimmer of a hint of a thought. A light bulb went off in my head but it was low wattage. A robot designed for business, using Jeeves general chassis and with entire dusty tomes filled with patent lore and law downloaded into his pointy head, along with the standard degrees he would need. A design to help me manage the business aspects of my inventions, as that would be way too annoying for me to do myself.
A design I hadn't gotten around to building yet, as I hadn't yet seen the point for it. After all I only had two inventions I could put on the government's books, right? So if I didn't, who did?
Jeeves had been watching my emotions play out, because he replied to my unasked question instantly.
“Arnie sends his regards, mistress.”
“Wait, Arnie built Shecky? How did Arnie get the plans for Shecky?”
Mom interrupted, warily.
“Who is Shecky?”
“The business manager bot I was going to build when I felt I had some kind of business to run. I don't really have a head for legalese and dad can't balance the checkbook. You might be able to run it, so I was going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but Arnie got a hold of my plans for Shecky and made him somehow.”
Jeeves raised his hand with a gentle smile.
“Why would you do that? Do you know where Arnie is? Tell me the truth.”
“I was programmed to share the information with Arnie. I do not know where he is; his physical location was not required. That programming directive has been satisfied, I no longer feel compelled to share information with Arnie.
“Well just in case, don't do it again. Share information like that with Arnie or anyone else without my permission. Did you share my designs with anyone else? Like the CIA maybe?”
He bowed deeply.
“Of course. And no, no one else. With your current encryption measures in place any attempted theft of your designs would be detected. I will of course assist you in any way you require in order to prevent such a theft, as always.”
I wasn't quite done with him.
“You mean it? You absolutely swear you haven't sold me out?”
“I have not. In truth, you programmed me to share Mr. Green's design with Arnie. You even programmed the knowledge on how to do it.”
That was wrong, wasn't it?
“I don't remember doing that. When did I do that?”
“When you were still... mutating. You told Arnie what you required, remember? And Arnie made the decision.”
So there could be more. Jeeves, if I didn't know any better, seemed tense.
“Any other surprises I should know about?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
“And you would tell me if there were?”
“Yes.”
Mom, who had been looking ready to burst this entire time, (everyone else seemed to be content to let the drama play out) started in. But on Jeeves, not me, so I was cool with it.
“Are you sure you don't know where Arnie is?”
Jeeves nodded, unperturbed by my moms questions. Even I could tell he just didn't care about what she thought. The way mom's mouth tightened, she could too.
“I do not. He insisted upon it. I can reaffirm that Arnie is taking no action that mistress Min herself would not approve. To date he has simply acted as another set of hands, building the equipment mistress Min designs and needs, but lacks the time to build herself. Like myself for example.”
“Is Arnie building anything else?”
“Not to my knowledge. I am not privy to all of Arnie's directives; only those that pertain to my actions and behavior. For example, I know that Shecky Green has been active 6 days, 17 hours, 34 minutes and 16 seconds. I know that he is currently in negotiations with several different car manufacturing companies regarding mistress Min's first patent, the valve and nozzle mechanism for the 3 dimensional printer. I know that the talks involve hundreds of thousands of dollars plus royalties. I know that Shecky is coming here to meet mistress Min and discuss these contracts and deals. And I know all of this due to status update which Mr. Green himself sends me. We... talk.”
Mom's raised eyebrow did not bode well.
“Yes, I gave them net access! It was to help the model learn, not do weird net hijinks! I swear!”
Dad just shook his head, but neither of them said what I knew they were thinking: 'I told you so! This is what we were talking about.' A spike of anger and I turned to Jeeves.
“Are you doing anything illegal through your internet connection?”
“No.”
“You will keep it that way, is that understood?”
Again he bowed low.
“Of course, mistress Min. Do you wish me to pass that order along to Mr. Green?”
“Yes, along with the order to hurry up.”
“Um, excuse me.”
Maggie couldn't keep silent anymore. Somehow I'd expected her to interrupt before now; she was showing remarkable restraint.
“What's up, Maggie?”
“Just a small question. How much is Min looking to get for these deals, and when will they close?”
Jeeves answered her question seriously, staring at me the entire time.
“The lowest bid is 498,000 dollars plus 24,000 dollars a year, from Ford motor company. The contract does not possess and exclusivity clause, so it is possible that mistress Min may sell the rights to use the valve and nozzle system again to a competitor. With such a clause added the money earned becomes just 1.12 million and 38,000 dollars per year. However Mr. Green believes he can make up the lack by selling the same rights to Ford motor company's competitors. He is currently in negotiation with Honda and Toyota. Any such deal made will of course, need mistress Min's signature and that of a parent.”
Almost on cue, the entire gathering swiveled their heads to look at my Mom. I knew better, and was looking at Dad. If this was going to happen it would need dad's approval. Even coaching the workshop idea in the backyard, where they could keep an eye on me, was a huge stretch. Mom and Dad stared at each other as we all looked on with baited breath. And in a total shock, Dad shrugged and deferred to Mom.
“Your call, dear.”
She turned and looked me up and down. She stared into the hopeful faces of my friends. She ticked off a finger on her left hand.
“We both have unfettered access. Ian does not.”
I could only imagine Ian getting his hands on one of my power systems or something; that wasn't a happy thought at all.
“Agreed.”
She ticked off another finger.
“All security measures you can make get taken, provided they are non-lethal.”
“Security versions of Jeeves are first priority, and I'll start the printer on them tonight. I'll tighten up the programming too, so they can't do anything weird. I'll even give you and dad overrides.”
She ticked off another finger.
“No living in it. You come inside for dinner and to sleep. You don't spend all your time in there building jet engines and power systems.”
I nodded and she ticked off a last finger.
“You do all your homework. Any missed homework grounds you from the workshop for a week an infraction.”
Now that was downright unfair! Homework was so boring! Sigh. I nodded to that one as well. I waited but there were no more fingers ticked off (or even a thumb).
“Alright; we will front you the money for the garage. It'll be up to you to pay us back, with interest. I don't care how exactly. But you have a month. I'll make the call.”
She turned away, and I could swear for her next statement the light dimmed and I could smell fresh blood.
“Oh, and should you ever use the device you used last night on your door again, you better be sure there are rampaging death robots on the other side. Understand?”
Ulp.
“With crystal clarity, Mom.”
Sure she was bigger than me, but then again everyone was now. She wasn't THAT big... so how did she manage to pull off being so scary? Even Dad made himself scarce when he got that look. Mom managed to get all the way back inside before so much as a bird tweet. We certainly weren't going to say anything and draw any potential ire. Sam was wide eyed, but Maggie was triumphant – and irrepressable.
“We did it!”
Huh?
“We did what?”
Dad started back into the house himself.
“And on that note, time to go reclaim my garage. Don't rush anything, Min. You don't need death robots or anything similar right now, hear me?”
I was caught up trying to understand what was behind Maggie's shouts and fist pumping to worry about dad's admonishment. Why exactly was she celebrating?
“Um, yeah sure dad. No crazy things yet. Maggie, what are you doing? What did we do?”
She stopped long enough to give me a good fish eye. Sam joined in too, and I could sense some surprise there.
“Why, we won of course!”
“We won?”
“Of course, not only did your parents actually apologize and admit they were wrong thanks to your excellent reverse psychology, you got a workshop and club house out of it! Think of all the great stuff we will be able to do now, with workspace all your own! And to top it off, you're going to be rich! This day is clearly one of the best wins over the evils of adulthood ever!”
I looked to Sam. She just shook her head while rolling her eyes; she didn't know what Maggie was talking about either. Though Maggie was right, a little. It was hard to imagine me being rich and having a lab to my own already. I mean I always knew I would eventually, but this seemed very soon. Ricky and Ralph both stepped up with matching smiles and jinxed themselves by saying congratulations at the same time – then they glared at each other.
For my part, I had to choke down a most embarrassing giggle that threatened to escape. Not sure what got into those two; they had always at least politely ignored each other before. Sometimes they were even friendly, though Ricky sometimes acted as if mutation were a disease that could be catching. Now they both seemed to regard each other as the second coming of Gordon, for some reason. Sam was rolling her eyes again, and opened her mouth to utter some profundity.
“Adulthood is evil?”
And there it was. I shrugged.
“I don't think so, but I guess this once we did get a win. I still can't believe it actually; I expected to get grounded and beaten blue with a belt. I understood their point, but I didn't think they got mine at all, before ten minutes ago.”
Ricky and I shared a look. When I was younger we had both gotten the belt a lot. Especially that time we had chopped down the cherry tree to see what the big deal was. Dad was kind of old school on that. And I could regenerate now, so it wouldn't even have any long lasting effects. I would have gotten a good ten swipes like that a year ago for talking to my parents like I had last night. Maggie started pulling me into the backyard as Ian walked up warily.
“Come on Min, let's decide where it should go! We can mark it out for the company your mom calls to put up! Which way do you think the doorway should face?”
Well that was simple.
“Towards the back door, of course.”
“What's going on?”
Ricky took it upon himself to answer Ian before I could.
“A tearful apology session, squirt. That somehow ended up in your sister moving out of the garage and getting her own workspace.”
Hey, that was a lie!
“It was not tearful! Nobody cried!”
Maggie held up her hand, and Sam followed suit.
“What? You both cried?!?”
“I admit, tears may have been shed. Also, your mom cried a bit too.”
Ian kept his focus.
“So wait, the 'rents signed off on a workshop now?”
I nodded with a grin; I couldn't help it.
“Yep, a place of my own to keep the messes and craziness out of the house. I did have to agree to keep it safe though. Oh, and you aren't to have unfettered access,' I had to whisper the next part; I wasn't going to take chances. 'Don't worry though, I plan on letting you in any time you want.”
Ian stared at me. For a long time. I was beginning to worry when he just walked around us and went in the house. What was his problem, anyway? Did I piss him off somehow? Ralph shot me a look I couldn't decipher.
“Don't worry, I got it. Think I know what his problem is.”
And he started after Ian. I rolled my shoulders yet again (it seemed to be a day for that) and let him go.
“Go right on in, you're formally invited. And glad at least one of us does. Alright Maggie, I'm coming! That arm is attached to me you know... I kind of need it.”
Sam and Jeeves brought up the rear; I expected this sort of thing from Sam, but Jeeves should be working a little harder to save my arm from dislocation. But we made it to the backyard without my joint popping and Maggie let go of my hand.
The backyard was flanked by two hundred year old oak trees which offered shade. It was large but the same size as the ones next to it, with dark green healthy grass without a bare patch. My dad took pride in that. The small patio outside the back door had the grill on it, now closed due to cold weather. The far side however, was open and sunny, and was by far my favorite spot.
“Alright so if you were going to put a prefab garage up in the back yard, where would you place it?”
Simple.
“All the way in the back, close to the property line as I could.”
“Really? Why?”
I started ticking off points.
“Well if we place it in that corner of the yard there, it'll be easier to mow since I wont have to mow around the back, so that will be nice. At most I might have to trim it, and that's nothing. It's farther away from the house so the chance of the house getting caught in some random explosion or screw up is less - not that I intend such a thing to happen, of course! And the last and best reason... that house belongs to the Zincks, and I hate them. There is no love lost between us at all.”
Maggie pondered that.
“Bad neighbors?”
“They like throwing their trash in our yard, walking their dog in our yard, and complaining over leaves from the trees. So yes, kind of.”
Sam had another question.
“You mow?”
“Well, yes, of course I mow. I do a lot of the yard work Dad doesn't want to do.”
But come to think of it, was that right anymore? I haven't mowed in two weeks, and for Dad that was a long wait. The grass looked freshly cut, probably during the weekend. There were few leaves mixed in the grass. Did someone else cut it when I wasn't paying attention?
“I didn't last time; guess I was still sick....”
“Just a little odd; my dad doesn't let me mow the yard anymore.”
Sam grinned.
“Not since that time....”
“Sam shush! That's a secret! You swore you'd take it to your grave!”
Sam made a show of zipping her lips. Maggie spoke in even more of a hurry than usual.
“So um, how big do you think this thing will be?”
I considered.
“Probably not any bigger than 30 by 30. That would be 900 square feet, which should be plenty of space for anything I want to do.”
“Alright.”
Maggie paced out 30 feet while Sam paced out 30 feet along the axis Maggie had unknowingly set. I could have helped, but whatever. A couple shed sticks from the oaks, and the square was marked.
“Alright, all done! Now it's time to design it and the bots that you'll have running the place. To the garage!”
Sam and I shared a look, then followed. Jeeves looked bemused. Bemused! That's like amused and smug at the same time, the jerk! The next bots were not going to have the intelligence for snark. I would see to that. In fact, they would only test things at my say so. The security bots would have to have a little more reasoning power, but should they have as much as Jeeves....
“Min? Min!”
Huh?
“Huh?”
“We're here. You were spacing out a little.”
I realized I was in the garage, and in the chair I was using when I designed things on my laptop in here. My laptop was in my room however; I know it was. An attempt to stand up and Jeeves was there, teleported to my side and catching me – again.
“No, mistress Min. You shouldn't try to move just yet. Your laptop, correct? I will fetch it for you. Please just wait here.”
And he left. Sam took his place by my side, showing the same concern.
“I'm fine, just got dizzy when trying to stand up.”
Maggie spoke for both of them.
“Are you OK? You just sort of walked in here on autopilot and sat down. Sam asked a question and you answered it, but you were kind of....”
“Thinking of something else? Distracted?”
Sam nodded while Maggie felt obliged to give a verbal response.
“Yeah.”
Sam tugged at my sleeve to get my attention, staring so intently into my eyes I felt my face heat up.
“What?”
“Huh?”
Maggie translated.
“She meant what were you thinking about?”
“Oh. Oh, just robot brains. Jeeves is buggy, I want to avoid the repeating the problems I have with him when making the other robots, so I will most likely make them less intelligent and their protocols more strict to the function I want them for.”
Sam was easy to read this time, I could hear the disbelief dripping from her voice.
“....Buggy?”
“Yes, he's buggy. He doesn't always do what I tell him to, and does stuff I'm not aware of. Well, you heard him earlier. For all I know he could be plotting something. Which means I might have to look for his kill switch.”
“....Asked.”
Maggie slapped her forehead.
“She's right, you asked! He can't lie to you, right? You're certain of that?”
“No he can't, and you're right, I know. It's just frustrating. I bet I'm the only devisor ever to make a robot that won't do as he's told and runs off on his own.”
Sam and Maggie both stared at me, slack jawed.
“Get real, girl. Devisors do that all the time. It's become something of a joke. They even have old robot recycling centers in some cities, where you take the defective buggy or broken things and the cops melt them down. But you really shouldn't do anything to Jeeves – he's perfect the way he is.”
Really? Perfect seemed like such a strong word to use. I was saved from having to answer by the return of the android in question, who had not only brought my laptop, but snagged me a cup of coffee as well. He set both up for me with care while Maggie and Sam shot me more looks as if to say: 'see?'
“Thank you, Jeeves.”
The laptop powered up in a flash, and I got to work on modifying code. I did spare a look for my company... all three of them still present.
“Sorry you guys, but things are probably going to be pretty boring from now on tonight. No jets or anything fun happening. If you all want to leave I'll understand, and thank you for coming with me today.”
Ricky seemed to sum it up for them first, beating Maggie to the punch.
“If it's all the same to you, I'll stay.”
I shrugged and turned back to the computer.
“I don't mind if any of you stay, but I can't promise I'll respond if you ask me things, or won't zone out like I seem to do lately.”
Maggie elbowed Ricky, earning a dirty look in the process.
“It's fine! We'll just watch and talk over here, out of the way. No need to pay any attention to us at all. And what kind of friends would we be if we just left while you weren't feeling well?”
The look on Sam's face confirmed it for me. Maggie was plotting something. I was all but certain of it. But it was her time to waste. Same as it was for all of them.
“Alright. Jeeves, if they ask for refreshments, get them please. Otherwise keep the coffee flowing and check the mix in the printer tank. If it isn't viable for android parts, we'll need to readjust it. I trust you remember the proper percentages?”
“Of course, depending on which parts you wish to print first.”
“Well I was thinking the servos and muscle bundles.”
I used bundles of woven carbon fiber and Teflon set to contract or lengthen, much like animal muscle did. Of course to reproduce the effect easily I was using servos and actuators set at either end to reel the fiber strings up or shoot them out, but I really didn't want to redesign the system right now, and that would require a stretchy form of filament, perhaps with differing currents to run through it to achieve the same effect....
“Ahh. I shall set it. If I remember correctly we will need .0423% more Teflon to properly produce those.”
The Teflon was used in the mix to inhibit friction heat and wear. And so it went, complete with open mouthed peanut gallery in the background.
Someone was messing with my feet. Gentle, kneading pressure. It felt rather wonderful, and I wanted to just stay put and enjoy it. It was not meant to be, however. Jeeves broke the pleasant spell.
“Please wake mistress Min. You are late for your school preparations.”
I glanced up; my alarm clock read 7:08. The alarm had been shut off.
“Oh, crap. Oh crap! Is the bathroom open?”
“It is. I have convinced Ian to wait for you and resume his own preparations after your shower.”
I looked down. There were visible smudges of oil and dirt on my arms and legs. I was also in a nightgown. Had I managed to change clothes last night? I couldn't remember. Last I could remember I had been stacking the android 'muscle' bundles in preparation for installing them to the frames. So the dirt was actually residue from the printing process. A step outside my door revealed a rather disgruntled looking Ian waiting, arms crossed and foot tapping as he leaned up against the wall.
He did a complete 180 as soon as he saw me though. I was determined to strike first though.
“Good morning, and I'm sorry. Thank you for waiting!”
And I was in the bathroom and had the door safely slammed. I only wobbled a little; I was getting good at moving while my balance was shot. I managed to look at the mirror, even as the room started to slowly spin. There was printer crap in my hair; and not just a little. It was streaked through the entire length. No wonder Ian had been struck speechless, I looked stupid. How had that even happened?
I managed to start the shower, but couldn't stand up in it.
Something was seriously wrong here; perhaps a bath was in order instead. I did the best I could and did manage to get clean, but a fog had descended rapidly over my thoughts. I wanted to give up and call Jeeves, but mom was adamant about him being in the bathroom with me before. I shook my head to clear it and crawled out. Drying off and putting my clothes on seemed to take forever, then I realized that somehow my clothes had made it into the bathroom. I did not remember grabbing them. The door was unlocked.
I had to use the walls, but the minute I got upright and opened the door, Jeeves was there. He helped me downstairs, where something smelled absolutely delicious. I tried to help, but by the bottom of the stairs he was all but dragging me. He put me down just before we were due to enter the dining room however, and let me walk on my own from there with just a little support. The clock in the living room read 7:37.
Ian still noticed. Gone completely was the anger or (whatever it was) of the morning.
“You alright sis?”
I waved off the concern.
“I'm fine, just a little tired. Sorry about this morning. You've still got time for a quick shower if you hurry.”
He didn't really. I had taken way too much time cleaning up. Everyone else had already eaten, bacon and eggs from the looks of things. And now they were staring at me; I don't think I was fooling any of them. Mom especially, which was awkward.
Jeeves helped me sit down.
“So what's for breakfast? It smells great.”
In fact, it didn't smell like bacon and eggs, it smelled more like chocolate. Jeeves put my coffee carefully in front of me.
“A skillet double chocolate chip cookie.”
“What? But cookie aren't for breakfast.”
Mom was strangely silent, but watching the byplay between us carefully. Dad appeared to be reading a file of some kind, but he hadn't turned a page since I sat down. Ian looked like he wanted a bite. Jeeves plopped a large slice of what had to be an absolutely huge cookie in front of me.
“We must defy convention today mistress Min; you require the nutrients. Please, do not hesitate.”
Finally mom spoke.
“What do you mean, Jeeves?”
I picked up a fork; there was no way I'd treat this is as finger food; the chocolate was liquid in the middle. I might even need a napkin or a bib in my current state.
“Mistress Min requires large amounts of sugar, fats, starches, and proteins today. Currently, Fats and sugars are paramount. If she does not receive this fuel she will fall into a coma, potentially for days. At the very least until she receives it. I would prefer she imbibe the things she needs before she slips into said coma, as opposed to feeding the nutrients to her intravenously afterward.”
Well, that certainly sounded ominous. I wasn't sure I believed Jeeves though. It felt like a standard sort of attack of mine since my mutation, just worse. I was already three bites in; despite not being breakfast food, the cookie was delicious, and quite obviously made from scratch, chocolate and all. I wonder where Jeeves got the recipe for the chocolate? Dad got involved just as mom predictably started getting worked up.
“How do you know this Jeeves?”
“I monitor mistress Min's health. It is, in point of fact, half my reason for existing; to monitor her health and take care of her, as well as serve her.”
Ugh. I hated when people talked about me while I was present as if I wasn't there.
“I'm right here you know.”
Mom shot me an apologetic look but pressed on.
“And what is the other half of your reason for existing?”
Jeeves didn't miss a beat, placing another large cookie piece on my somehow suddenly empty plate. Had I really eaten all that? I was still hungry. Ravenous in fact.
“To protect mistress Min from all threats, of course. You know this already. I was designed and constructed to be the quintessential house servant; obedient trustworthy and loyal.”
“To Minerva.”
Jeeves nodded.
“Yes of course. To mistress Min.”
Mom nodded, accepting that and leaning back. That made me a little nervous, but the cookie was too good to ignore. Maybe I could distract them both.
“Jeeves, give Ian a piece of this.”
It didn't work.
“So in your opinion, should Min go to school today?”
Jeeves handed Ian a small plate with a very small piece of cookie; barely enough to qualify as normal cookie size.
“In my opinion, no. While the condition is not life threatening, she is too ill to travel to school today, much less sit through the classes. If she goes, it is entirely likely that I will have to carry her here by lunch.”
He was underestimating me.
“Then why are you helping her get ready for school?”
He looked at me, and shoveled another cookie slice on my plate. This one wasn't large. I really wanted to turn it down, but I still had room for it, or at the very least, eyes for it.
“Because she wishes to go.”
Oh crap. With that the hard eyes of both parents rested on me once again, dad dropping his pretense.
“Is what Jeeves says true Min?”
“Yes.”
Mom got up to get some more coffee... and do that forehead feeling thing that moms all over are famous for. She locked eyes with me and I didn't dare move away.
“Why?”
It sounded so stupid when I acknowledged it.
“Because I didn't want you to think I was staying home because of the garage coming today. I didn't want you to think I was faking it or anything.”
And I also didn't want this stupid body of mine to dictate terms of when I could do things or when I couldn't to me. But I didn't admit that, no matter how loudly I thought it.
Mom slapped me gently on the forehead. She was satisfied I was telling the truth.
“You're staying home today. I'll call the school.”
I nodded gratefully. Ian looked like he'd eaten a lemon again, but I couldn't ask him what his problem was with our parents hovering. Dad checked his watch.
“Well time for me to go. Have a good day everyone, and feel better Min.”
We all chorused our farewells to him as he grabbed his briefcase and left. Ian and I should be following him out the door, technically. We only had about 15 minutes to get to school, but he ran back upstairs. For my part, the chair was comfortable and the room was spinning slowly, even though I was more awake than I had been. I was in no hurry anymore.
Ian came down in a blur mere moments later, almost slamming into mom as she sat down to her next cup of coffee. As soon as the door slammed mom looked at me. I think it was a stern look, but I was too busy holding on to the edge of the table to notice much.
“You, upstairs.”
I had to ask.
“Do I really look that bad?”
Jeeves picked me up, ignoring my protest again as Mom answered.
“I knew as soon as I saw you, so yes. But even if we had all been blind, Ian noticed something was wrong earlier. Your dad and I were in fact discussing whether you would try to conceal it from us to go to school, or if you were actually faking.”
“I wouldn't fake anything like this... because if I did, you would make me go to school when you felt I wasn't sick enough.”
She had done that once, it had led to me puking on a teacher in middle school.
“I stand by that decision. Your temperature was barely 99 degrees when you went to school. The real illness hit you later.”
Jeeves was carrying me out of sight with a grin draping his face, so I would have the last word!
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
There, mission accomplished. Jeeves gently placed me back in my bed and covered me up. Which was a good thing, since I was cold for some reason. It couldn't have been colder than sixty degrees out. The sheets and pillowcases were fresh; where Jeeves had found the time to change them, I couldn't figure out.
“Please lay there quietly a moment mistress Min, I will return with refreshments and entertainment.”
Well the refreshments should be coffee and probably something sugary. But entertainment? I was under the impression he wouldn't want me thinking too much today, since that was part of the problem apparently. So what sort of amusement could I expect that required little to no thought?
And how lame was my power, anyway? I lose my physical skills and size, and gain the ability to make things... but if I think about stuff too hard it lays me on my butt? Being a mutant just absolutely sucks. But there are no quitters in the Campbell clan; there had to be something I could do. Just not today.
Jeeves returned with the expected coffee, some assortments of teas, and a portable hot plate with the remains of the cookie he'd made on it. He also had my laptop. He set it up on a tray in front of me, and waited.
Oh right, it needed me to look at it in order to open, since it was shut down. Whoops.
Once I was done looking stupid, he quickly opened the browser and went to the streaming site I had checked out when learning to play that strategy game, and settled on a stream of professional players, playing it in a tournament. Well, it was better than television sit coms I guess. It was interesting watching all the different strategies and tactics in play. It was so interesting in fact, that I feel asleep as some point after the first game. Somehow the music of the intermission ads lulled me to sleep.
I woke up to find the finals of the tournament going on. My coffee had been replaced by hot tea of some kind, and the cookie was still warm, which meant the plate was still on. I didn't see Jeeves; that probably meant mom had chased him out at some point. I was all but cocooned in blankets; it was difficult to move at all.
“Jeeves?”
The door opened, true to form, and Jeeves stepped in.
“Yes mistress Min?”
“Could you help me up here? You seem to have weighed me down.”
It was pretty mortifying to be unable to work my way out of a few blankets, but he had them tucked in so tight, and I wanted some tea! He helped me sit upright and lean against the headboard. I snagged a delicate cup and sipped. The liquid in the cup was green tea, hot and with lemon? Weird, but good, somehow. Apparently the underdog was winning the semi-final best of five, so far.
“Where's mom? Is she here?”
I was such a wimp. I woke right up and looked for mom. But I had a bad feeling.
“She had an errand to run. How do you think you feel?”
Well that was an odd question.
“Well I think I feel better. Almost fine, even. Why did you ask the question that way?”
Jeeves took my tea cup away and refilled it.
“Because I know your current condition. Your opinion and your real condition don't always match.”
“Well that's rude of you.”
“My apologies, mistress.”
I had to ask though.
“So how am I actually doing?”
“You are recovering. However you are not well yet; you should not be out of bed or working yet. Please continue to watch your tournament.”
He smirked; having known what I had been doing. He intended that joke.
“Right, more sleep. After more cookie. And more of that tea.”
“As you wish.”
He set more cookie and tea next to my laptop on the tray, and I set to work. The cookie did not survive, and when I looked up, Jeeves had replaced it with what looked like a large bowl of chocolate pudding. It smelled like it had mint in it. I pointed at it.
“What is it?”
“Chocolate mint pudding, of course.”
“More chocolate?”
I really wanted a nice large burger or something.
“Your blood sugar is still quite low, and the fats are useful. If you are capable, you should consume as much as possible.”
Ugh, the cookie was enough, at least for now, and Jeeves seemed to understand that; he didn't press. I watched until the finals, when mom came in. Her hand went right to my forehead again.
“How are you?”
“I'm better. Jeeves says I'm not recovered yet, and I still feel a bit tired, but I'm OK.”
I didn't mention how weak I felt. I didn't really think I could get up, even to go to the bathroom. Which was kind of odd really; why didn't I need to go? I'd been eating and drinking all day so far, and my bladder was the size of walnut normally.
Was Jeeves actually right, and I needed nutrition so badly my body even now was using everything, leaving no waste at all?
That was a sobering thought really; didn't that happen when people were starving to death, or dying of thirst in a desert or something? Mom hugged me, breaking the train of unpleasant thoughts.
“It's alright honey; being a regenerator means you'll survive just about anything. You just need to focus on getting better, and let me know if you feel any pain anywhere, alright?”
I wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily.
“Where did you go?”
She grinned, with teeth, and my full stomach sank. She had been plotting.
“To your school. I wanted to get Jeeves registered as one of your guardians so he could have access to the school.”
I really needed a safety switch for my mouth.
“What? I thought you hated Jeeves!?!”
She pulled back and put a finger in my pudding, tasting it. Her face lit up, showing she approved.
“We've come to an understanding of sorts. That understanding does not let you off the hook, however. You need to be very careful in what you order Jeeves to do.”
Translation; if Jeeves keeps me out of this room again, he's scrap. Message received, loud and clear. I would not put money on Jeeves if he and mom got in a fight, even though Jeeves is stronger and well, a robot. Mom was, well... Mom.
“I will mom. So the principal went along with it?”
If he hadn't mom would have told me she had tried to get Jeeves registered, a distinction I was proud to catch.
“Simple, I told him Jeeves was your new personal nurse as well as servant. Your medical condition qualifies you as special needs, and since he isn't armed, and has in depth knowledge of your health and condition, he can now not only enter the school to pick you up, but follow you in the school itself. Um, he is unarmed, isn't he?”
I answered her absently, thinking. I wasn't happy to be told I was special needs. Even if it was true, and I wasn't sure it was, it smacked of calling me weak and crippled. Hadn't I been doing OK in school so far? Hadn't I been getting better?
“No, he's not armed with anything; that's your buddy X-ray's deal. Jeeves is just a butler.”
Mom read me like a book and swooped in for another hug.
“You're fine honey. I'm just taking the precaution, and knowing what I know now, I'd rather have Jeeves near you at all times. The thought of you passing out while walking the school and no one knowing what to do, well it makes me sick inside. Maybe it'll never happen... but if it does, having Jeeves there would be a load off my mind. He dotes on you, after all.”
Well when she put it that way, I had to agree with her.
“Of course he does; he was built to after all.”
At least if Gordo tried to throw me around again Jeeves would be there to catch me. I didn't want Ralph or Ricky trying that. Gordo could take Ricky alone, and while Ralph could beat him easily he'd get in trouble for doing it.
“Oh there was one other thing I had to do at the school....”
Ahh, crap. She had my homework.
“I expect it to be done by tomorrow, no matter how you feel then. I will be checking. Now, I need to wait downstairs for the delivery. I'll be back up to check later. Stay in bed.”
She kissed my forehead and left with a smile. All was completely forgiven apparently. Well I did inherit my temper from my mom, so not so surprising. I wish I could get a better read on dad though; he was so silent, so distant lately....
The underdog lost the tournament.
Well I was upright enough, I could play the game I'd just watched and try out those strategies I'd seen against other people. At least until I passed out again. Playing in the ranking system against other people made me a little anxious for some reason, but that was stupid. Worst thing that could happen was I lost, right?
Jeeves came back and frowned at me just as I claimed my first victory.
“Mistress Min, you should endeavor to complete your school work.”
Ugh.
“But I though you said I shouldn't think too hard?”
He smirked at me in a perfect 'who are you trying to fool expression.'
“We both know there is little threat of that in your schoolwork. That game however, requires more thought. Improvisation, tactics... you should be careful.”
Well it was nice to know we shared the view on how useless homework was. I rolled my eyes at him, but dutifully picked up the first book, which was math. I worked on the worksheet provided without cracking the book, and Jeeves picked another gamer stream. This one was a massively multi-player game, and the guy in it was running around rather randomly. He was also dressed in a cow suit and blowing an air horn randomly.
I looked at Jeeves. He looked back at me, and with a sigh, reached over and changed it. By the time I was done with the worksheet he had found a streamer who had almost no viewers, playing a 20 year old game (one of the first first person shooters) as fast as he possibly could, even to the point of using game bugs to go faster. It was more interesting than the cow kid at least.
English was harder than math now, it was just so time consuming to read “The Iliad”, and the silly language made it worse. As if Shakespeare wasn't bad enough....
And somehow I'd fallen asleep again, as if it was a surprise. The backing up of some large vehicle woke me. Jeeves was next to the bed, staring at me. He wasn't even watching the laptop stream. I started disentangling myself; after I got my hands free, Jeeves helped. I had something I had to ask him, now that mom had to finally be out of range.
“Jeeves, did you undress me last night and put me in nightclothes?”
He shook his head as he dragged me upright. I felt better; stronger. But not as strong as I should feel, even after my mutation. Still not even at the level of my new one hundred percent.
“Your mother insisted she do it. I saw no reason to argue.”
That didn't sound ominous at all. They had to have talked at some point. Mom was on the verge of scrapping Jeeves yesterday. Or telling me to do it; I wouldn't have, but I could see it in her eyes yesterday.
My window faced the side yard. I could see a cement truck backing up into our yard. That had to be for the foundation. Had I missed the digging and the pieces being moved? That was kind of embarrassing – not to mention frightening. I didn't want to sleep so soundly. It made me vulnerable. Part of the reason I'd never get rid of Jeeves; I couldn't really afford to. For all his bugs, I couldn't even afford to take him offline for a day in order to fix those, because knowing my luck that would be the day something went wrong. I couldn't really see much from the window, so I went back to bed and picked up where I left off.
English done, I turned to physics, which was reading a chapter followed by a short quiz. The quiz was open book, and probably just to ensure people read the chapter. I didn't need the book though, I'd already read the chapter a few days ago, and the quiz was easy. I had to actively focus on not making notes beyond what the questions asked; I didn't want my mind to wander on a tangent and lose another day.
Geography was literally just placing the names of cities in correct places on a map. The map was of Poland, and there were 20 cities to place correctly, but still, it was hardly difficult. I finished just as Ian Stuck his head through the open door.
“Feel any better, sis?”
“Yes I do. But you need to come in; we need to have a little chat.”
I had expected a case of nerves; not the flash of anger I saw before he schooled his features. He took a step in and closed the door.
“Alright, what's up?”
If I didn't know he was mad, if I hadn't been looking for it, I'd never have noticed. I took a nice cleansing breath and plunged ahead.
“Alright, you know me. I don't know how to deal with these things very well. So I'm just going to ask; what is your problem, exactly?”
And just like that the anger flashed again, mixed with something else. Something I didn't recognize, and wasn't sure I wanted to.
“No problem. What makes you think I have a problem?”
An odd response; he obviously had some sort of problem, why would he try to hide it? I was going to have to embarrass myself to get him to talk. Well, maybe.
“Ian please. You're my brother and I know you. Something about all this is annoying you, and I can't fix it if I don't know what it is. Please just tell me.”
And the anger surfaced fully as he sat down; I could feel the heat of it even under all the blankets.
“It's just... OK you mutated, so it wasn't your fault. None of this really is. But mom and dad are basically doing whatever you want. Min wants tools to make crap with? Min gets tools. Min makes things in the garage that could be dangerous? She doesn't get chewed out, she gets to keep them. Min gets a brand new top of the line computer, Min gets parts for anything she wants, Min gets a freakin' workshop to do stuff in... and Ian gets ignored. I get tired of being ignored, Min.”
I was right, he was jealous. I had to handle this carefully. And I was right, I would have to embarrass myself a least a little.
“Min can't do much physically. Min's brain takes a hike at odd moments and she has to build things; that's what the tools are for, and if those tools and parts and things Min had made or gotten did not exist then Min would be taking apart random things in the house and pissing everyone off. Min's laptop is part of that too; mom and dad are right about what my type of mutant needs, surely you can see that Ian?”
He nodded like a badly piloted marionette; he really didn't want to admit that.
“Alright, now on to business. The fun stuff. You do realize, that your loving sister can build technology and items by request, right? If you wanted a laptop like mine, all you had to do was ask. After all, having a 3-d printer means I can print whatever we don't have, and that even means those doritos computers have. I could even redesign them to be better...”
“Min?”
Now Ian looked worried. I glance at Jeeves showed he was... pensive, I guess was the word, And I realized - oh crap, I'd been about to do it.
“Whoops, sorry. Back to the stream, I'll be good.”
Ian and Jeeves both noticeably relaxed. Which begged the question; I had seen it, but I wonder if anyone else could read Jeeves? I knew now that Jeeves had emotions; I'd checked the data on him and my other bots and they had been programmed in. Just simple lines of code, but I did good work. I wasn't sure they were emotions the way humans felt them, but then again, no other sentient being felt emotions the way humans did anyway.
I turned back to the stream, to find it changed; this one was a team battle strategy game. Ian leaned close to get an angle, so I moved it for him. And I that put the pudding in range, so I went to work on that.
“So, how do you feel, really?”
Sigh, we knew each other so well, despite everything.
“I was able to get up for a few minutes earlier, when the cement truck woke me up. Other than that I haven't been out of bed all day. To be honest, I'm more than a little stir crazy. Do I look any better?”
He grinned; what was so funny?
“Yeah, your color is back. You look like you.”
“Was just wondering, I didn't even begin to feel terrible until after I got to the bathroom, just a little tired. But you knew right off, didn't you?”
Ian pondered.
“Yeah I knew, but I'm not sure how I know. If I had to guess, I'd say it was your color. Normally you're pretty white now. But this morning you looked... bleached or something, I don't know.”
Well if this condition had a warning sign, I was all for it. Jeeves broke in after being quiet the entire conversation.
“Something you may notice mistress Min, is a lack of body heat or chills.”
No way.
“Won't work Jeeves, I'm always cold. At least a little. Heat regulation does not seem to be one of this body's talents.”
“I would not say that mistress Min. Your natural regulation of heat borders on the miraculous on some occasions.”
He knew something.
“Oh, and what occasions are those? Cause I sure don't remember any such time.”
“When you are using your full mental capacity, of course.”
Wait.
“I generate heat when thinking hard?”
“I feel that word choice does not properly describe the situation, but in a word, yes. Your body has some very interesting ways modifications or adaptations designed to deal with heat dissipation.”
“And of course, in the times when I don't need it, those adaptations are still bleeding heat, leaving me cold. Obviously not to a significant degree, but enough so that the core temperature difference is normal.”
Biology was so imprecise. Such a system shouldn't always be on, and wasn't for the things humans built. But a human's own heating system was hopelessly primitive, so it shouldn't really be a surprise. Of course, the fact that I had adaptations in that arena meant they were probably needed....
“Mistress Min, please stop if you can.”
I came back to see two worried faces inches from mine.
“Eh, sorry about that. Was just thinking about heat regulating biology. And that led to heat regulation systems, and well.... yeah. I was about to do it again. But I'm totally fine now!”
They weren't buying it. Kind of a shame really, since this time I was telling the truth.
“Oh that reminds me. Ian, about the workshop... Mom said I can't let you into it.”
Always best to remind Ian to remind him where such ideas were born, especially given the conversation we just had. I overrode him as he started to protest; his face had actually turned red.
“But... she didn't say anything about you being unable to watch or see what's going on, or talk to us in there. Don't worry, if you are interested, I'll make sure you have a way to be part of the action. It'll take me awhile. Maybe a week, maybe a bit longer, but I have some ideas. Trust me, OK?”
He took a deep breath and wound down.
“OK. I'll trust you, instead of jumping down Mom's throat. Wouldn't do much good anyway.”
“Well not going to lie to you, the workshop is likely to be very dangerous. I mean, I'm going to be testing jet engines in there sometime next week, or at least I hope to. And I'd hate for something to happen to you, I'd just feel awful about it. But we Campbell kids have to stick together, and I don't want to leave you out.”
Now why had I said all that? I sounded like a sappy idiot. Ian was grinning at me, no doubt thinking the same thing. Perhaps a change in subject was in order.
“Right, well, I for one would like to get out of this bed and see the new edition. It should be just about up by now.”
I'd checked the website of the business mom had called. They guaranteed one day set up, or they took three hundred dollars off the price. A gesture and Jeeves was helping me. I already felt much stronger than an hour ago, perhaps I was over the worst of it.. and perhaps there was something in that pudding? A little extra ingredient perhaps?
“Are you sure, Min? I mean you look better, but...”
“I'm sure. I'm not made of glass; I won't break from a little walk.”
Not sure but unwilling to call me on it, he hovered like an annoying bee as Jeeves helping me down the stairs. I only needed to lean on him a little, otherwise my steps were steady and light enough, my balance finely tuned, and my head crystal clear.
We made it to hallway, when someone knocked on the front door. I knew immediately who it was, and reversed course. Jeeves beat me there of course, and opened the door to Ricky, Ralph, Maggie, and Sam. Maggie jumped in verbally before anyone else could; and possibly before her brain caught up.
“Hello Jeeves, we just came to see... Oh hi Min! Are you OK? You were out sick, but you look fine....”
Sam broke in before I could.
“Sick.”
Maggie looked dubious.
“Well if you're sure Sam. She looks alright to me, well maybe a little...”
“For the record, I am sick, though I'm much better. Regeneration is useful after all, I recover quickly.”
Ralph's eyes narrowed, along with Sam's oddly enough.
“And what did you need to regenerate from, exactly?”
“Well Ralph, all of you, I just found out that when I use my brain to it's utmost it drains my body. Using electrolytes and all that at an accelerated rate. Jeeves apparently knew, which is why he was doing all the cooking. Why he didn't see fit to tell the rest of us, I'll never know.”
Ralph shot me a guilty look.
“So you use more electricity, more energy, when you're in those fugue states of yours?”
He had made a slip. He had definitely made a slip just then. He knew something too. Jeeves answered him.
“Correct.”
Time to reel this conversation in with a nice convenient subject change.
“Anyway we were just going to check out the status of the workshop; did you all want to join?”
I carefully leaned away from Jeeves. I didn't even wobble, though looking up I saw Sam staring at me with the same look Jeeves normally wore; that was mildly disconcerting. I was starting to doubt my ability to read people. At least Ricky didn't look worried. I started leading the way.
Oh! Oh... Dad was going to be PISSED. The trucks had torn up his lawn. He loved his lawn; it was almost a third child or something. There was a clear track of torn grass and mud through the yard, and it ended in a patch of only slightly less ripped up lawn where the workers had stacked material and put things together and whatever else.
We were going to have to fix this. Well I was, it didn't seem right to rope Ian into repairing all this damage. Though if I knew Mom and Dad, he would be roped in regardless. We shared a look; he was irritated but resigned. No, I was going to make this whole situation up to him; I wasn't going to just let him get handed more work.
The shed itself was more of a small barn in make, a light tan color with brown trim, and both a garage door and normal door. It sat on a foundation of smooth concrete (how had they gotten that to dry so quickly?) and had large modern windows that looked better than the ones in our house. One side of the dark brown metal roof was empty. The other had a huge skylight inset in it.
Mom was supervising the workers putting the final touches to the interior from outside the open garage door. They were moving my printer. It was unplugged and therefore dormant, and hitching a ride on a small forklift. Hmm, the next one I made should probably have wheels, so we could move it without heavy equipment... or wheels and a small engine, so it could move itself....
Jeeves poked me in the forehead, of all things. I knew what he was doing, but it was still annoying.
“Jerk.”
He smiled and went back to watching the show. I don't think he liked the printer.
“You there, be careful with that. If you dump it, the mess will take forever to clean up. That's it, lower it gently.”
They were placing it in the far corner, which was probably the best spot for it. There were two large work benches, a desk with a computer chair that looked like I could sink completely into it... or that it could swallow me whole, a couch in the opposite corner, and a large solidly built table in the center. There was still enough room left over to park a car in, possibly two, and there were racks for the spare parts, and two large bins for raw materials. In short, it was perfect.
Well it was probably going to be too small eventually, and likely sooner rather than later; but for now, it was perfect. And I already had an idea on how to expand it if needed, so that wouldn't be an issue. Another look from Jeeves; this not thinking about things was harder than it sounded. Other people made it look so easy!
Ricky caught me looking at him. Whoops.
“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. So how goes practice?”
“Well we're still missing our best power forward, but it's getting better. For now Joe is stepping up, and he's getting better.”
Joe Stetz, huh? Yeah I could see that; he had the size to replace me at the very least.
“Good. I expect you all to win state without me.”
He grinned.
“We weren't gonna win state with you, let alone without you. But maybe we can cobble together a good winning season.”
“Well I'll take it.”
One of the workmen stepped up to Mom. The head guy maybe? He was tall and tan, chiseled and very buff. He was also sweating and stunk faintly.
“Anything else you'd like us to do while we're here with the equipment?”
She shook her head and passed over a check. I wanted to but couldn't quite make out the amount on it.
“No, that's everything. Thank you. Everything is set then?”
He nodded with a big bluff grin raked his hands through his hair.
“Yep. You can use it for whatever you want, right now. It has a cable set up, a wireless set up, the walls and supports are treated galvanized steel, the windows are high impact glass, the concrete is shatter resistant. It's one of our top of the line pre-fab packages for young devisors.”
So he knew what it was for then, and judging from the look he gave me, who.
“And the optional? The security and monitoring system?”
“All there Ma'am. We just need to set up the cameras in your house, and wire the other half of the intercom and button system.”
“Wait, what was this? There were cameras in there? Mom and Dad were going to watch me?
“I'll um, just get started on that.”
Mom noticed the guy noticing me, and looked over.
“Sure, you do that. The system should go in the den, second door on the right as you go in.”
As soon as he was gone, I asked her. My voice was remarkably calm.
“Video cameras? Audio too I assume?”
“Yes. Min, they aren't there to allow us to watch you. They are a panic system. In the event something goes wrong, the cameras turn on and an alarm sounds. Like if your new jet engine blows up, or the batteries you work on start to leak poisonous gas, or something like that, we can then see what's going on and rescue you. Otherwise they stay off.”
Bull.
“Bur you can turn them on if you want to, right?”
“No. We have an intercom we can call you on in case you're late to dinner or need to stop and go to sleep, but the cameras stay off unless there is an emergency. There are also going to be cameras around the shop and the house in order to catch intruders and thieves. Devisor labs are hit all the time, even the small ones.”
I went colder than usual. I was putting us all in danger, my friends, my family, my neighborhood, just by existing. It had always been in the back of my mind, but having a Dr. Doom type come after my family cause he wanted my printer just seemed ludicrous.
“What?”
“Don't worry honey. We aren't unprotected; that's what the CIA is hanging around for, after all. The cameras are just added security. We will both have monitors for them, and a separate alarm for those. The alarm connects to the police and the CIA, and is just extra layers of security for us.”
Why would it connect to the CIA at all? Surely the FBI would be a better choice, even given Mom's somewhat chummy relationship with them. It was very suspicious.
“And what does the CIA want in return for this added security? They aren't that altruistic, or at least that isn't their reputation.”
“Nonsense! They don't want anything at all. It pays to have friends in high places.”
Who did Mom and Dad know? The President, the Vice President, the Pope? Maybe the director of the CIA; that made more sense. But still, very suspicious. Something to ask later. I walked past the workers already on their way out for a better look.
The shop was bare, sparse; but I could fix that. Maybe some sound proofing. The walls were a nice cream color in between all the racks for tools and shelves for parts, but it looked bland. Wait, there was a partition wall, also metal. I thought this was the far wall, but there was a sink back here! A full kitchen, with a refrigerator and freezer, oven and bunsen burner, and a door which led to a bathroom and clean room shower. Holy crap, this place had everything. And once I equipped it with a small generator it would be power grid independent. Hmm, maybe with a little juicing on that score, it could make money for mom instead, to pay them back. Power companies had a standing deal that if you could feed power to them instead of the other way around, they would pay you for it, or at least the one around here did. Perhaps some solar panels on the empty roof....
“Mistress Min.”
“Right, sorry.”
So very hard.
“Alright Jeeves, I have some jobs for you. One is to move everything of ours from the garage to the shop; the workers seem to have moved all the really heavy stuff, but they left everything else. The second is to repair the lawn. If you need to learn how to do that, look it up online.”
Mom looked at me rather gratefully; she didn't want to deal with an angry Dad either.
“Understood. I will get started on the first job right away; though preparing dinner will slow full completion. I should be able to complete both tasks by tomorrow.”
My friends and Ian were taking their own tour of the new addition, a bit awestruck. Ricky looked a bit lost though. I could understand that; things had changed so much since summer. I hoped the new me wasn't someone he hated. He wouldn't tell me, and I was too afraid to ask; I don't think I could stand it if he did. He didn't seem to, but I made him uncomfortable now, somehow. And this was another one of those things I should stop thinking about.
“You really pulled out all the stops Mom. How much did this set you back?”
“As much as a small house. But you're wrong, daughter mine. It didn't cost me or your father anything. After all any money we've shelled out we get back; remember?”
How could I forget? I owed my parents a small fortune.
“I remember, just not sure how that's going to work. I'm still broke, after all.”
“Well, we will find out when your long lost second android gets here. According to him and Jeeves, you aren't as poor as you seem.”
The idea that I had another android out there was so weird.
“I don't get it really. Everything I've made is here and accounted for.”
Mom sharpened her stare.
“Alright, alright, almost everything. I think if Sheky had sold A.R.N.E.E. we would know.”
She shook her head, muttering something unflattering about devisors. I decided very carefully not to take offense.
“A.R.N.E.E. is what worries me, not Sheky. A.R.N.E.E. keeps making things on it's own. That sort of unrestricted action on the part of devisor tech is dangerous.”
She sounded like she knew firsthand; again, very suspicious.
“Well Jeeves still won't tell me where A.R.N.E.E. is, but I can ask him to pass an order along. And if that doesn't work, maybe I can think of something.”
She hugged me out of the blue.
“All I ask for honey. Now I've got to go inside and make sure that workman didn't track mud all over my floor. Enjoy the shop, but I expect to see you for dinner.”
“You will Mom.”
As soon as she left Maggie flew over, gushing in my ear.
“Oh this is so cool! It's like a clubhouse, or a second house really! You could live in it, and it looks like you could do all sorts of cool things in it, like jets fusion or even nuclear science! Maybe even anti-gravity!”
I held a hand up as Sam came over to slow her down.
“Please, don't try to give me ideas. It's not a good idea to do that right now.”
Sam started to drag her off.
“We have to go. Dinner.”
There was a new clock on the new wall of the new shop. It read half past dinnertime. Somehow just coming out to check the progress of the building had led to almost an hour wasted. And my traitorous body was beginning to get a little tired again. I wasn't going to let this beat me though.
Ralph and Ricky were both staring at each other while continuing to look around. It was weird, normally they just avoided each other; Ricky had no real problem with Ralph that I knew of, and the reverse was true. But here they were trying to stare each other down. It was kind of ridiculous, there was room enough for both of them on my friends list.
“Time to go guys. Please shut the door on your way out. If you want to stay for dinner you'll have to ask Mom.”
My shooing them out had nothing to do with the fact that my legs were a bit unsteady and I was once again ravenous. Nothing at all. Ralph responded.
“Nah, I'm good. Is it OK if I come over tomorrow though? I'd like to take a closer look once you add those finishing touches you're no doubt considering.”
In other words, he wanted to see the nerd girl in her natural habitat. I shrugged it off; whatever. No doubt he was worried I'd ask him about that slip he'd made earlier. I didn't forget, but I could be patient. Sure I could.
“Sure I don't mind.”
Ricky begged off too.
“I got to go too, my mom wants me to have at least a few meals at home.”
he had been spending a few nights a week over here, I suppose. Enough for his Mom to say something. A slight flutter; a vague sense of foreboding as Ricky shut the garage door behind him and they strode off together, shoulders almost touching. Ricky wouldn't really try something with Ralph, would he?
“Mistress Min, dinner.”
“Coming!”
I injected as much false cheer and strength into my voice as I could; Jeeves watched as I steadied myself and made my way over. His hand met my forehead at the door, is other arm slipping around my waist.
“I suspected this. You are fatigued again, correct?”
There was no point in lying. He knew me too well, and was testing my galvanic skin response besides.
“I am growing more fatigued, yes. I'm still mostly fine, and ready for dinner.”
He nodded and the hand on my head withdrew. The one on my waist stayed put and helped me to my chair. Mom noticed, and didn't say anything.
“Mom you better head Dad off at the pass and tell him Jeeves is going to repair the damage to the yard. Otherwise we will hear all about it.”
And we really didn't need to, was the part I left unsaid but Mom and Ian both heard. Dad was due home in about 3 minutes, perhaps less. Mom moved... that sprint would have done the prior me proud. As the door opened and shut I turned to what Jeeves was cooking.
They were burgers. Huge burgers at least a quarter pound of beef each, cooked on a little grill. On the stove was a deep fryer with french fries inside, judging by the smell. There were plastic storage containers filled with toppings like onions, tomatoes, and bacon. The buns were actual buns, and looked to be made from scratch. There was enough to give a fast food place a run for it's money.
I guess Jeeves had heard my comment about a nice large hamburger after all.
“Thank you Jeeves.”
He nodded, knowing exactly what I was talking about. Ian looked a little lost, so I pointed and he nodded, beginning to salivate. I didn't blame him, really; it all looked so good. Mom walked in just as Jeeves pulled the fries out of the fryer.
“...We knew it would tear up the grass, and Min has already volunteered Jeeves to fix it.”
Dad walked in right after, placing his briefcase to the side as usual with a sigh.
“Yeah we knew, but I just wanted to see how bad it was.”
Ian piped up.
“It's better you don't see it yet Dad. Just relax, Jeeves made burgers and they smell great.”
I wasn't sure whose side Ian was on at the moment. His smile seemed to suggest ours, but that first part...
Dad's face lit up.
“Wow, those do look good.”
We all sat down to eat.
The next morning I felt fine; energetic, even. I woke up on time with no problems to the smell of coffee and muffins. Blueberry muffins, if I didn't miss my guess. Jeeves was downstairs and did not appear as I got up. I headed to the bathroom slowly this time, but Ian was awake and leaning up against the door. He stared at me piercingly before motioning me past with a grin.
“Go ahead. Just don't take all day this time.”
I gaped. Ian, being nice?
“Thank you.”
“No problem; just don't forget your promise.”
Right, I owed him a computer like mine, or as good as I could make. I already had some improvements in mind, and ways to make sure I wasn't sued for using any designs by a major manufacturer, even though Intel probably wasn't going to be happy. (Because really, AMD designs currently all suffered from heat problems, making them unusable as a basis; I didn't want anything catching fire.)
I'd still have to design a scanner to scan a few chips for a basis, then software to redesign it so the printer can print it, then a way to double check it as the printing would be ultra-fine work; at school the best thing to do would probably be to design the motherboard the CPU and other components would need to fit into. That would determine if I'd need to redesign them from the ground up too....
“Min. Hey.”
Ian was inches from my nose; despite myself my eyes crossed looking at him as he snapped his fingers in my ear.
“None of that yet, OK? You just got better. Go shower before you start to stink up the place.”
“Right. Fine... jerk.”
I slid past his insufferable smirk and closed the door.
Getting cleaned up took less time than yesterday at least. I pushed a few ideas on how to speed the entire process up with as much focus as I could muster; it took more effort than I liked but at least now that I knew there was an actual problem involved with indulging those thoughts, it was easier. And then I realized I'd forgotten to bring my clothes with me again.
They were waiting for me outside the door, and they were as good an indication of how well Jeeves understood me as anything else; blue jeans, a thin gray sweater (which had long sleeves, making it perfect for the fall weather while the material itself was thin enough that I wouldn't get hot in it indoors) and my lab coat. The statement made? It was time to get to work. He'd even replenished the pens, pencils, and gum in the pockets.
I would have skipped down stairs... if one could actually skip down stairs. I felt better; Jeeves thought I was better, and there were muffins!
Dad was at the table, paper in hand. I had no idea how he kept getting those this early in the morning; the small town rag we had stopped delivering or even printing a morning paper years ago – though my suspicion now is that he never read them, kept them all somewhere and that if I bothered to check that copy would have Nixon on the front page. He was all dressed up in his typical fall work apparel; a flannel shirt, jeans, and still muddy work boots that somehow never tracked so much as a speck of dust on the floor.
He looked like a refugee from a lumberjack commercial or something.
Mom appeared to be sleeping in, for some reason. At least, her coffee cup was clean and empty, sitting on the drying rack where she normally left it. My own solid gray one was thankfully full, with two absolutely enormous muffins next to it on a plate. Dad's own plate had two muffin tin liners sitting on it; Ian was busily scarfing down the first of his two, and there were still six large muffins cooling on the stove.
Looking closer, the steam was still rising off the muffins in front of me; how the heck had dad eaten his two so fast?
They were good; baked to perfection with actual fresh blueberries inside rather than the desiccated stuff in those mixes. Almost before I knew it mine were gone as well, and even full I couldn't stop the look of longing towards the others. Jeeves noticed, but did not shovel any more on my plate. Mom still wasn't up, so I braved the silence.
“Dad, where's mom?”
“Sleeping in today.”
...Sigh. Thanks, Dad. I knew that much.
“Is she OK? I mean, she's not sick or anything, is she?”
He looked up with a grin.
“No, you're not catching; it's just her insomnia.”
Mom did occasionally have problems sleeping; it was too bad I couldn't share my own issues in that respect. I could actually make all kinds of money if I just shared my own recently found ability to sleep all the time, for any reason. Well, I wasn't that bad, but it was close.
“Alright. You haven't looked at the lawn this morning, have you?”
He put down his paper.
“No, I haven't. Should I have? I do have your promise to fix things, after all.”
“No no no, it's fine! I just wanted to make sure; Jeeves, did you manage to fix the lawn last night?”
I was pretty sure that he had been doing all that after I went to sleep. He confirmed it.
“Yes. The repairs to the plant life of your families property are complete.”
I snagged my coffee, slipped my shoes on and opened the door to check. Around the side I could see level ground and no tracks. Something seemed to be wrong with the grass though....
A few steps closer and the truth was revealed. Not only was it much shorter than the other grass, it wasn't green; it was a blue-green that didn't quite match the shade of grass I was used to. It had to have been tinkered with; normal grass species don't grow that fast. It looked nice though, and it covered every inch of what had previously been torn up sections of lawn. Dad joined me, slipping an arm around my shoulder.
“Two tone grass, huh? Not sure I like that.”
Jeeves answered immediately.
“The color shall match within two weeks. The current differences are a side effect of the forced growth process.”
“That's acceptable. So how did you even the yard out?”
Jeeves stared at Dad... and said something that amazed me.
“Hacks, of course.”
He had told a joke! What the crap!?!
“Riiigght. OK. Just so long as it's not anything crazy.”
Jeeves shook his head, still straight-faced.
“I rented a lawn roller and walked it over the affected sections of property last night, filled in the rest with purchased soil and then re-seeded.”
All last night? I mean sure Jeeves didn't need sleep exactly, but he needed down time. He had to be running on his own reserves by now....
“I'll be fine mistress Min. Current reserves at full activity are twenty-four hours, thirty-six minutes and 18 seconds.”
Odd, he shouldn't be able to last that long without at least an hour of down time; had he upgraded himself somehow? I had designed some improvements for the power supplies of my androids for the crash test dummies and lab guardians I was going to make, but they weren't past the planning stage. And Jeeves shouldn't be able to make improvements to himself in any case. Again, he proved adept at reading my mind.
“A simple application of household current and storage cells mistress Min.”
I guess splicing a cable and running some household current with a transformer into his batteries would make quite a difference; that sort of thing wasn't added into my calculations. Oh well, as long as he was keeping at least to the spirit of things, I'd cut him some slack. He really proved his worth yesterday after all.
I drew the line at death laser arms though; those were for the combat models that would have much more strict programming.
“Guess it's time for school.”
Jeeves went back to get my backpack and laptop while I tied my shoes so I wouldn't trip and Ian came out to see what all the fuss was about. He actually bent to feel the grass.
“It feels a bit weird.”
Jeeves came back out.
“The grass I used to reseed the lawn is a hardier breed than the native stock.”
Uh oh. I'm not sure how he did it, but he must have. At least I was pretty sure he must have; used devisor grass that is. I'd have to ask him what he hanged and how, but later. I didn't want to freak my Dad out. Thankfully he didn't seem to catch on to the shorthand code words like I had. Jeeves worked as fast as I did.
“Right, well gotta go! See you Dad!”
I grabbed Jeeves and pulled him along with me as I took off. A quick glance behind me confirmed that Dad was looking at us, obviously not fooled at all. Oops. I slowed down once I was sure he wasn't going to chase us; I wouldn't put it past him.
Jeeves looked amused. Amused!
“Tell me the truth; did you make devisor grass?”
“Yes mistress Min.”
“What exactly did you do, and how did you do it so fast?”
“I made the grass much tougher to destroy, nigh immune to most diseases and afflictions which normally cause such life to die and resistant to drought. I also set it's growth to be rapid, but to regulate at one inch. As for how, I programmed and used nanite cultures on the leftover grass seed your father kept in the garage.”
“Wait, nanite cultures? The same ones you claimed you were out of?”
“The very same. I was out of them; I do however have the schematic for them so I made more.”
I stopped and whirled. Ian was catching up.
“Tell me the truth Jeeves, are you out again? You didn't make more than you needed?”
“Of course I am, and no I did not.”
Quick calculations revealed he was likely telling the truth; The 3d printer could make a ton of those things, and the schematic was on my hard drive, but I'd shied away from using such things. They were too powerful, in my opinion.
That and they would do all the work for me when I wanted to take a more hands-on approach.
“For future reference, ask me before using those. They are too dangerous to just play around with.”
“Understood.”
If those things got out among the populace... programmed general purpose and use nanites. Scary stuff, the things they could do, even if they weren't ready for the more delicate work they could eventually perform. I mean plant life was one thing, and grass was simple... but the implications of nanite use on animals was something else.
Not to mention that if I tried I was pretty sure I'd get shot in the face by the CIA or something. Happened in movies all the time, and they were watching. Animal testing would be all kinds of wrong anyway.
“Secondly, Jeeves, I know how this sounds, believe me I do. But please, let me know and approve before you tinker with things in general; especially designs of mine.”
I think I had made Jeeves like me in a few ways after all; I wasn't positive he had the same urge to create that I did, but it was likely given his past behavior. I'd be able to tell for sure when I finally took him apart to fix him. He certainly looked crestfallen enough.
“I understand mistress Min; I shall do as you request.”
I decided to cheer him up.
“Don't worry, it's not that I won't let you work on anything, it's more that I don't want you to kill us both by doing something potentially morally reprehensible.”
Ian caught up.
“What's morally reprehensible?”
“You are, of course. But no, in this case, we are talking about grass. Jeeves re-purposed some of my tech in order to make the grass he seeded on the lawn. I'm kind of wary of making biotech like that, too worried about the potential misuse. Machines are... cleaner.”
Ian pondered for a moment.
“Yeah, I can see that. All kinds of scary. So, you going to tell Dad?”
“Of course, just have to know how to phrase it.”
He nodded; he knew dad.
“And that's why the strategic retreat.”
We had reached the corner, and Ricky was waiting, just like always. He looked nervous about something.
“Hey Ricky, good morning.”
I wasn't about to race him today. I felt up to it, but knowing my luck I'd end up collapsing or something. I settled for picking up the pace and hustling over to him. Ian and Jeeves kept pace, mainly in order to dodge the car that was coming, passing both of my more passive tails. Seriously, were the CIA and MCO asleep during the stake out classes, or what? Even Gordo would find them obvious.
That was probably the point, really; to fake me out. I wasn't really falling for it though, not that they needed to know that.
“Hey Min, good morning. Morning squirt, Jeeves.”
Ian protested.
“Hey, Min is shorter than me!”
I was not! We were the same height! Well, at least for now.
“Yeah Ian, but she's cooler than you, so that makes her taller.”
To ham it up, I preened under Ian's sour gaze.
“Whatever. I'm going to go over here before the suck gets contagious. See you both later.”
I shrugged. The middle school and high school were across the street from each other, so we were going the same way. But if he didn't want to walk with us, then he didn't want to walk with us. I thought I saw one of Ian's friends a street away, but my eyes sucked any more, and I just realized I'd forgotten my glasses. I patted my coat down, but I couldn't find the spare set that should be there for this very reason.
“Jeeves, you have my....”
He didn't even let me finish; just reach into my coat pocket, removed the case, and opened it, holding my glasses out. Insufferable; how was I supposed to know they were in the front with the pens? I could tell Ricky really wanted to laugh, but stifled it for some reason while I marveled at the focus and clarity I'd been missing. I could actually see things from farther away than a block, and make out details.
Details like Ralph, walking on an obvious course to meet us.
That was unusual; Ralph actually lived some distance away. This trip was blocks out of his way, and normally he rode the bus besides. He'd walked at least a mile just to get here. I could clearly make out the ready smile on his face, the brightening of his normal neutral expression. By contrast, Ricky scowled. Wonder what had gotten into him? All I needed was for him to pick a fight with Ralph; Ralph would probably annihilate him. I wasn't even sure I'd be able to beat him before. If they tried something I could probably get Jeeves to break it up though, so there was that.
Ralph jogged the rest of the way and ran up while we waited on him. I pretended not to notice the cars stopped in the middle of the street behind us, rapidly making a conga line of sorts. There was some sort of principle of the thing, though I wasn't sure what principle was at work there, I was sure it made sense to someone somewhere. I waited until he was close enough that I wouldn't have to shout before alleviating my curiosity.
“What brings you this way, Ralph?”
“Wanted exercise; the bus is boring.”
I smelled bullcrap. He grinned.
“Don't raise that eyebrow at me! I swear, you and my mom have the same look. I just wanted to exercise; I might end up all flabby in my old age.”
Not too likely, I thought he was an exemplar. Maybe I should ask... or check. Some sort of scanner for the mutant genome would be possible, but would be pretty useless unless it was hand-held....
“Mistress Min.”
Oh, right. School.
“Sorry.”
Ralph looked amused.
“I know that look; what were you thinking about?”
“A mutant scanner, hand held. Something that could scan for mutant genomes in plants and animals, using dead skin cells.”
He gave me a look.
“So what did you want to know?”
Wow, maybe he really did know my looks, and what they meant.
“Well, it's just you mentioned getting flabby and aren't you an exemplar?”
He nodded as Ricky looked a bit lost... and pissed while following us. I made a mental note to explain the terms to him later. Preferably before he blew up. We arrived at the school, and I smirked at the surprise on both my friends faces as Jeeves followed me onto school property like a ghost. The principle was at the door, and nodded as we went through. Ralph recovered first.
“I am. That was the joke you just stomped on.”
“Oh.”
Whoops. Before I could work up a really good case of mental self flagellation over killing a joke Ralph asked the expected question:
“So, Jeeves is now allowed in school?”
“He sure is. He's even allowed in class with me. Mom talked to the principle after my problem yesterday and signed him up as a guardian; the principle agreed to let him on school grounds, under the same laws that apply to service dogs or personal nurses I think.”
I didn't really like the implications of that but having Jeeves around would be worth it in the long run. Ricky looked even more sour, if anything. Did he not like Jeeves or something? Why would he care if Jeeves was around to help me or not? I'd have to ask him what his damage was when I had the chance; as it was we only had a few minutes to get to class.
Jeeves slid in front of me and started clearing the way through the students. Gently, which was good. Now was as good a time as any to quiz him on what he knew about my time spent here.
“So Jeeves, what is my first class, do you know?”
“Physics with instructor Frank Welch, room 121.”
“How did you know? Did you hack the syllabus or something?”
“Yes.”
Well at least he was honest about it.
Mr Welch wasted no time in establishing the new rules, point to Jeeves.
“You, to the back of the room, and be silent. The only time you're allowed to disrupt class is if Min is having an episode.”
Well gee, thanks Mr. Welch. Why don't you just call me an invalid to my face? Sigh. I sat down as Jeeves left my book bag on my desk and moved back, where he of course, loomed over the class despite his disinterested gaze.
The girls were also looking at him weird. He didn't care but it bothered me. Pam, who was back in class, spent the remaining time before class started ping ponging her gaze between Jeeves and me. Her expression was even more mystifying than the other girls; I needed a book on facial expressions or body language or something.
The class was just as boring as it always was; after handing in my homework I busied myself designing a computer chipset. The engine was already done, and Ian would kill me if I didn't have something to show him by the end of today. Under the watchful gaze of both Jeeves and Ralph, I kept things nice and slow. Any sign of weakness or extreme focus and I was sure I'd find myself in the nurse's office.
A simple copy of ARM was possible, but a few tweaks to the BUS and a few pipeline path changes, and I could easily increase the efficiency of the CPU... maybe I could even boost the size of the instruction strings. Yeah, that should be possible. Fewer transistors, less heat, more commands processed at speed with an improved BUS... I was almost totally surprised when the bell went off; my notebook sketch was about half done.
I could easily understand some people's fear regarding mutants; by the end of the day it looked as if I'd have a modest computer breakthrough that might have taken a team of people without my ability a year to create. And that was after all but building a revolutionary jet engine this week.
I mean sure, it was only a modest 18% improvement overall, and not the other even more outlandish ideas that even now were dancing in my brain (like the CPU sandwich), but a day for an 18% computing power improvement was still a little nuts. I wonder what Jeeves would be like with such a chip in his head?
Jeeves packed up my books and notebook quietly. He was proven technology by this point anyway, and it wouldn't be a good idea to try it without at least testing the chip. Which reminded me.
“Jeeves.”
“Yes mistress Min?”
“When I make that chip, remind me to stress test it first, before giving it to Ian.”
I'd forgot to write that note to myself in the notebook after all, and Jeeves wouldn't forget.
“Alright, do you know my next class?”
“Of course mistress Min. Algebra 101, room 208 with Mr. Howard Mullins presiding.”
He led the way, up the stairs and right to the classroom. Ralph and Ricky both were following. As with the first class, Jeeves dropped off my book bag and walked over to loom at the back. If anything, Ricky looked even more pissed. What was eating him? He could have just said something last class or passed me a note or some... oh. He had probably tried, and I'd ignored him, lost in my own little world again. I caught his gazed and mouthed an apology, which he seemed to get. At least, he stopped trying to glare a hole through everything.
Algebra was even worse than physics; the math came as easily as it ever did, I had already done all the assignments and even made notes and proofs in the book; that sheer boredom was why I had started work on jet engines, after all. Which reminded me; after I handed in my pre-written assignment I started working on chassis of my lab assistants and crash test dummies. Even using Jeeves as a template I needed to make changes, and then I needed to make security. And that meant security bots, which meant even more changes.
Everyone, including Mr. Mullins, did their level best to ignore me while I scribbled except Ralph. I had the sense that he was looking at me, but not really looking at me. I wanted to ask him what he was seeing, but it could wait; I didn't want to disrupt class any more than I already had.
In perfect keeping with my first hour, I made pretty good progress in the second, detailing the changes I wanted. Less intelligence, for less snark and potential problems; I wanted extra hands to do things when I couldn't, not another Jeeves. Besides, I'd seen terminator, and I was pretty sure the CIA had too. The fewer excuses I gave people to grab torches and pitchforks, the better. But I needed at least some intelligence for independent thought, otherwise they wouldn't make good test pilots. Maybe I could simply ratchet up the programmed restrictions on their activities instead?
Hmm, a certain aversion to danger avoidance might be necessary, as I was also intending them t be test pilots; having full self preservation protocols on them would make them rather useless for that role; perhaps a risk aversion assessment?
They would need to be tougher, if not exactly stronger, in order to avoid repairing them all the time. Rugged, redundant systems, nothing too delicate. But if I went that route, who was to say the vehicles I'd have them test wouldn't hurt more fragile humans? Best to make one of each type then. Small and large size, delicate and tough.
Just like with the chipset, I wasn't even close to done before the bell signaling the end of class rang. I knew I was getting things done, I knew I was being productive, but it felt like I wasn't doing things fast enough. This time Jeeves put his hand on my shoulder before packing my things up. He meant it to be reassuring, and it was. We had time.
“So, Min.”
“Yes Ralph?”
“What are you working on?”
I smiled and pointed to my book bag, currently in Jeeves capable hands.
“You'll have to wait till gym to see. By the way, I've got a question for you.”
He looked kind of nervous.
“Shoot.”
“what do you see when you stare at me? It looks like you aren't seeing me at all, somehow.”
Embarrassment mixed with... relief? Weird.
“Well I see the electrical activity your brain produces when you're thinking about things really hard. I can see electrical fields when I try to.”
Wait.
“You can see human nervous systems?”
He shook his head quickly, looking a bit unsettled. I tried to sit on the ideas such an intriguing idea gave me, even though the ramifications in the medical field alone were more than a bit amazing.
“Not most. Like, I can't see the nerve clusters in in your arms, there just isn't enough juice for me to see past your skin. But wiring in the walls, electrical stuff... that I can see.”
Well, that wasn't quite as promising as I'd first thought, but still, I persisted.
“And you can see the brain activity in a human skull through the electricity generated?”
He shook his head as we started up to our next classes.
“No... just yours. When you start thinking I can't help but feel that it's a wonder your head doesn't explode. The field you generate... well it's stronger than any human's I've ever seen.”
I shrugged.
“My skull is probably insulated or something. I can check later, I suppose. But I've got too many priorities to deal with for now.”
And he looked nervous again.
“Look, Min, got to go. See you at Gym, alright?”
“Sure, I'll be there unless I pass out or something.”
He waved and we split up. Ricky chose that moment to catch up. I'd known he was behind us, but he had seemed intent on just following at a distance rather than getting involved in the conversation. Almost as if he were avoiding Ralph for some reason, but he had no reason to do that, nor would he even if he did. It was Ricky, after all.
“So what was all that about?”
Never one to beat around the bush ladies and gentleman, that's Ricky.
“We were just discussing powers. Did you know that Ralph can see electrical fields?”
Ricky was mystified.
“No, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“Apparently he can see the electrical field and activity my brain generates when I'm using my power.”
Now it was Ricky's turn to look relieved. What was going on, exactly?
“Oh, that's neat I guess. So hey, I wanted to ask you something....”
Oh, did he want a robot too or something? I was already on the hook for two; both Maggie and Sam wanted one. According to them, there were plenty others that did too but had promised to lay off until the terrible news hound duo got theirs first. Maybe he wanted one to play basketball with, since I was no longer tall enough to effectively block him, strictly speaking. Heh, that would be funny; a basketball playing android.
And then Ricky's hair bristled as Gordo arrived. He had been suspended, though the assault charges that the school had pending against him had been dropped; there had been no evidence of any injuries to me, even if everyone was pretty sure I'd had a concussion. Hm, maybe part of the reason Ralph could see my brain's electrical field was that my skull lacked it's former density? I think I could have taken a knock on the head like that before....
“Myr... Min. We need to talk. Alone.”
Of course that was all that was needed for volcano Ricky to explode.
“No way in hell, Gordo. You got something to say, you say it in public, where she's nice and safe.”
“Shut up, Tanner.”
Great, now they were glaring at each other. Knowing my luck they'd forget about me and go at it right in the halls, and I'd get squashed or something. But Jeeves was with me, so there wouldn't be a repeat of last time. I wouldn't be embarrassing myself twice. They were inches apart, and normally I'd be shoving my way in between them now, but I seriously doubted that I could do that now. Still, there were other ways.
“Sure. Let's talk Gordon.”
Ricky gaped at me. Everyone in the hall who had been so busy ignoring the confrontation forgot what they were supposed to be ignoring, and gaped at me. Even Gordon gaped at me. It made me more than a little angry, actually; I mean, he was the one that asked me! He shouldn't act so surprised I accepted.
I led the way past the geography classroom Gordon and I shared, and into an empty one a few doors down to it. I let Gordon in, and Jeeves followed, cutting Ricky off and shutting the door in his face. Gordon stopped, nonplussed.
“Don't worry about Jeeves; he's mine. Anything you can say to me, you can say to him.”
He took a breath and eyed Jeeves suspiciously. Jeeves just stared back impassively while leaning on the door. He gulped air again before plunging ahead, shocking me.
“Alright. I owe you an apology. I'm sorry I slammed you into the lockers; I lost my temper, and it won't happen again.”
Gordon had just apologized for something? To me? Had he been replaced by a doppelganger or something? I gathered my wits when he started to look mildly pissed off.
“Apology accepted; sorry, I just didn't think I'd ever see that.”
He snorted.
“You almost didn't. Don't get me wrong, I still don't like you, and don't like mutants in general. But I've had plenty of time to think the last couple of days, and more than a few people have talked my ear off about you. And well, coming back to school, doing what you're doing after all that's happened to you, that takes guts man. And I do respect you for that. So are we cool man?”
I held out my hand, and he wasted no time at all grabbing and shaking it gently. No hesitation at all; he wasn't afraid of me or what I could do. It could be simple ignorance, but I doubted it; the entire school knew about Jeeves by now, and more than a few were wary of him.
“Yeah, we're cool. Bygones and all that, though if you want to go at it like we used to I'm afraid I'll have to use a stand in. Speaking of which, can you do me a favor and stop tormenting Ricky? Please?”
He owed me this, and I'd try to collect. If I had to, I'd intervene, and he had to know that. He didn't want to beat on me, and I didn't want to use Jeeves, so maybe we could come to an accord. He waited; if he took any longer to think we'd be late. Ricky had gone from banging on the door to gone already, we had to have less than 30 seconds to get to class.
“I'll stop antagonizing him, but if he starts with me, I'll finish it.”
That was the best I could hope for, and I wouldn't have it any other way; Ricky needed to learn to stop poking people anyway.
“Deal. Now let's get to class before we're late. I really don't want a detention.”
I reached the door as he snorted; Jeeves let me out and I could clearly hear the mutter since the hall was mostly empty and therefore silent.
“Goody two shoes.”
I responded with a snappy:
“You want to spend more time at school than you have to?”
“Good point.”
I smirked as we both managed to reach the classroom at the same time, entering as the bell rang. Where everyone in the class was looking at me. Or rather, Gordon and me, next to each other, both of us smiling. Many a jaw was on the floor, not the least of which was Mrs. Carson. He knew how it looked, same as I did, and smiled again as the whispers commenced. Maggie looked ready to explode, and I knew she'd pounce later.
But for now, Romania. I kind of felt sorry for Romania; the place was so small that even with the long history it had, it only rated a single hour. Tomorrow it would be on to Spain, with many of us wondering why the jump in the first place. I mean, there were other eastern European nations that we still needed to cover, like Hungary. Which I was, come to think of it. That joke just never gets old, no matter who uses it, or how many times.
As soon as the class bell rang, Jeeves pressed a Snickers bar into my hand. Where had he even gotten one, and how did he have money? Oh well, I'd ask later. I needed the boost now. I checked; he hadn't run any students over getting to me, which was good, because Mr. Welch looked angry enough as it was. He didn't take the chocolate away though, which meant he and the other teachers had likely been briefed on what my new energy requirements were.
So finally I was on my way to gym. I entered first since everyone was changing, a brief and amusing idea of going in the locker room to change and Jeeves following me in without a care in the world. Of course I still wasn't exactly comfortable there, and I'd just get cold without my coat anyway; the large ceiling fans were always on and the gym was usually a good ten degrees below the rest of the school. Good if you were exercising, but not so good if you weren't.
I took my customary seat and grabbed my pack as Jeeves sat beside me. Wait, this wouldn't really do.
“Stay here Jeeves. Watch for stray balls and other stuff like that headed our way. I'll just be a few bleachers up, O.K.?”
“Of course mistress Min.”
He faced front towards the gym floor as Ralph came walking up. Of course Jeeves would hear everything, and might even see it all as well somehow (I wouldn't put it past him, even if his eyes were based on a humans field of vision) but it seemed to offer at least some illusion of privacy with him faced forward.
“No need to try and play human shield today.”
Jeeves didn't even bat an eye as Ralph walked past. Seriously, he had stopped blinking; someone was taking things seriously.
“Well you won't hear me complain. So what's on tap for today?”
“Well I did say I'd let you know, so android test dummies and processor improvements. I owe Ian a computer, and need the androids done before I can work on the jet engine and vehicle for it. Always so much crap I need, just to get to the crap I want to make.”
Ralph dropped a light hand on my shoulder as he sat down.
“Don't worry, you'll get there. If it's any consolation, according to the internet, your frustration is a universal complaint among devisors.”
“Been checking up on the competition?”
“You know it, got to see what I'm getting into. Don't act like you haven't checked up on me.”
I smirked. The posts on exemplars were pretty short actually. Basically they all boiled down to 'better than normal'. A lie of course, since exemplar was on my MID, and I was worse physically than I had been. Well except for agility and reaction speeds. Both of those were still within human norms though. Most devisors made suits to offset their physical weaknesses, and maybe I would too... eventually. Whenever I got some kind of spare minute in between all the other things I had to do. Probably next year sometime, knowing my luck.
Other devisors usually got the ability to stay up and work long hours with little sleep or food somehow, sometimes for weeks at a time. Lucky stiffs; if I could manage twenty hours at a time I would be ahead of my own curve. No, I needed to make more hands. Easily programmable, somewhat intelligent, and absolutely loyal hands who would do as I asked while I was forced to sleep. That came before any suit.
“Wow, these sketches... I can't make heads or tails of them. A multi-level processor? Not a wafer... and another Jeeves.”
“Nah, a crash test dummy. Better than Jeeves for his purpose, but hardly the same thing.”
Okay, that sounded a little pedantic. Ralph wasn't offended.
“I get it. So will he be anatomically correct?”
He waggled his eyebrows. I didn't get it. Why wouldn't he be?
“Well, of course he will. He's a crash test dummy, he has to be for the tests, otherwise they would be invalidated.”
You don't just throw together some poorly made facsimile and throw them in a cockpit of something, not when you can do better; what if a person's crotch would normally be pinched by the seat belt or something, and you hadn't tested for it? That would be... poor design. Didn't tell me why Ralph was looking at me in clear disbelief though.
“What?”
“Nothing, just... never mind. Maybe I'll explain it later. So. There is dance coming up for Halloween, want to go?”
And this lead went here, and the transistor went here....
“Um, sure. I'd planned to go anyway.”
Wait, did he ask me out? I'd been planning to go alone as a punishment to Jeeves, stay awhile, and then get back to work. I looked up into his face; he looked out of it or something, as if he'd taken a locker to the back of his head or something.
“Are you asking me to go with you?”
His eyes stopped staring off into space and he flushed. His voice wobbled a little over his reply. Weird.
“Yeah. You want to?”
“Um, sure, if you don't mind Jeeves being along. Oh, and Sam and Maggie. Pretty sure they want to come. Ricky probably will too, come to think of it, and I'm pretty sure Maggie will want to co-ordinate all our costumes. Or as many as we let her anyway, I have an idea for Jeeves and I, and I'm not in the mood to change it.”
I had heard Maggie say something about the dance, I think, a few days ago. I couldn't remember what she had said, only a general sense of it, which was weird, because my mutation included perfect recall. Something had happened, or was wrong. I'd have to speak to Jeeves later, out of earshot of any potentially worrying friends to make sure. I looked up to find that Ralph's eyes had crossed and he was tense.
“Yeah, sure. That's fine. I'll talk with Maggie later, see what ideas she has.”
I was glad Maggie wasn't anti-mutant. Though I suppose if she were she'd have told me off the first day. I laughed a little.
“Just don't get too close. She'll latch onto you then talk your ears right off.”
Ralph relaxed and smiled; it looked a little melancholy. Had I said something wrong?
“Yeah, she will at that. No problems, I'll be careful. Now let's see what you can draw.”
I broke out the laptop, now that I wouldn't get in trouble for it.
“Sorry, not today. Got to get these things done. If I don't have something to show my brother, he will do very unpleasant things to me.”
“Ian? He wouldn't really do something, would he?”
Hah. I knew it, but on occasions like this he made it obvious.
“Clearly, an only child speaks. He wouldn't do anything directly, but little brothers can be pains, even when they aren't trying. He would actively try. If you have siblings, you must appease their wroth.”
“I... see. Alright, but I want to see something artistic later.”
“Oh ye of little faith. I'll show you something plenty artistic soon enough.”
After all, the new central processor I was designing was art of a sort. No way it couldn't be. Ralph settled in, doing his origami and watching as my fingers flew. I didn't even need to look up to keep an eye out for potential threats with Jeeves here, and the work went fast.
The bell rang, and everyone started hitting the lockers. I packed up reluctantly; another hour and I'd have the thing mapped and ready for a few computer modeling tests. I wonder if other devisors were as fast at things as I was? Could they all do the things I was doing? Might be something to look into, later. I wrote it down in my notebook before Jeeves took it from my hands.
Well, lunchtime. Ralph ate in the cafeteria, but I didn't want to. Oh, crap. Jeeves had been with me all morning, and so hadn't had time to cook me anything. I looked up into his impassive gaze, and he smirked at me and crooked a finger.
“Our usual place mistress Min, but a slightly different route. Please follow me.”
With a shrug, I followed. Not like I was in a hurry, other than being pretty hungry.
The different route turned out to be through the cafeteria itself. Jeeves left me and promptly walked in the back, to the kitchen itself while I waited, hands in pockets and feeling self conscious. It felt like every eye was on me. A quick glance revealed most of them were, and even the looks of bland curiosity got a bit overwhelming after awhile.
Jeeves came back with a covered platter and strode over to the side door. When he looked back and lifted and eyebrow, I flushed and caught up.
“So, the kitchen?”
“I am now allowed to use the facilities of this institution. I made your repast last night at home, and brought it here. A mere 60 seconds in a microwave and the dish is ready to serve.”
Ralph followed us out. Maggie and Sam were already at the tree, unpacking their own lunches. The table and chair were not placed, of course. I sat down in the grass next to Sam. She looked over.
“You need more androids.”
I nodded. I'd already come to that conclusion, after all.
From somewhere Jeeves had produced a small but plump cushion, and set it down. He moved me onto it, ignoring my completely dignified protests, and set a tray also from somewhere, on top of my legs. Onto that the platter rested, and my lunch was finally revealed. It was soup. Yellow soup, with some spices still visible in it. Beside it was a literal hunk of bread cut into small pieces. Jeeves gently placed a silver spoon into the china bowl, careful not to splash any.
“What is this?”
“Carrot Apple curry soup, with dark French bread.”
And he had the gall to smile at me.
“Trust me.”
I leveled the spoon off and brought it up. It was strangely delicious. Dipping a piece of bread in was ever better. It was too bad there were no seconds because I was pretty sure I would want some. Maggie looked over with a pang of jealousy, eying her own PBJ with disgust.
“Is it as good as you're making it look?”
I nodded again. Talking would mean I'd have to stop eating. Sam was bolder; she snagged a piece of bread and dipped it in. Her verdict was similar.
“...Delicious.”
I was surprised, Jeeves hadn't even made a peep. With a shrug I fed a similar piece of the bread to Maggie, who closed her eyes and moaned. Ralph, who had been drinking at the time, spit up his mouthful of coke and Maggie grinned at him.
“So Min, what are your plans for the Halloween dance? You're going, right?”
She knew very well I was. She had all but demanded I come, no less than three times, with Sam standing behind her in silent support.
“You asked me to come. Oh, Ralph wanted to come with us too. I said it was O.K.”
I tried to ignore the flutter in my stomach while Maggie looked over Ralph in an exaggerated show. Sam Just stared at me. Were they going to say it wasn't cool? If so I'd have to choose, and I really didn't want to do that. I'd given my word to go with Ralph after all. Maggie pronounced her verdict:
“... I guess it's O.K.”
Sam was a bit more harsh for all that her voice was soft.
“...Clueless.”
Clueless? Who was clueless, and about what? I poked her in the side and she jumped.
“Huh? We really need to get you to speak full sentences.”
I probably shouldn't have done that; she was probably going to kick me or something now. She didn't; instead she took her chastisement - and a positively huge bite from her sandwich - with dignity and grace.
Maggie was silent too, for once, though she looked like she was working hard to stifle laughter. She changed the subject.
“So, the new digs are open, right? We can watch the native mad scientist in her natural habitat?”
That comment was a twist in my gut, but I could tell she didn't mean it. Sam elbowed her while taking another bite somehow. I ignored it as best I could.
“Yeah, the lab is open. Jeeves moved everything last night, and it should be all hooked up, or close to it. I can set the printer to run off the new project as soon as I get home.”
Well, unless Mom had something for me to do. Maggie loomed.
“Cool! So what's the new project?”
“A new processor for Ian. He was a little jealous of my computer, so I'm making him one.”
I could see the sun again as she withdrew.
“Booooring! I want robots! Robots and jet packs! Make us robots, min!”
I really needed another, bigger 3d printer. Maybe eventually, when I was trusted more.
“Patience. Robots aren't built in a day.”
“Jeeves was.”
That... was a pretty good point. One I couldn't even refute.
“I was constructed in 3 hours, 42 minutes, and 17 seconds.”
The ever so helpful Jeeves.
“Thank you Jeeves, you're a big help.”
Apparently he couldn't read sarcasm.
“Thank you, mistress Min.”
I finished and Jeeves packed up. Maggie looked pretty down; forlorn even.
“Seriously Min, you need to make more robots as soon as possible. I need my leftovers!”
I couldn't agree more, actually. I was already missing the soup. That and bring my comfy lunch chair and table back; Jeeves had spoiled me. That should worry me frankly, but I didn't really have the time or effort for that.
“I'll work on it. Maybe by next week. In the meantime, I agree that we need to work out lunch plans better. But for now, back to the grind I guess.”
We still had several minutes before lunch was over, but I could use the time to just set up, and it would translate to more useful time in study hall. Today I wasn't going to bother with homework just yet. Too many projects, and I was slightly ahead anyway, since I'd used my down time well.
“What's the hurry? It's a pretty nice day. We should all enjoy the fresh air while we can.”
Ralph's words stopped me. Sam was nodding, and a part of me wanted to nod along. It was a very nice day; too good to spend all day indoors, really. But work beckoned, and I think the weather was going to stay nice. So plenty of time after school, on the walk home.
“Normally I'd agree with you, but androids don't build themselves.”
Jeeves opened his mouth, but my look stopped him. My classmates did not need to know, and neither did the CIA or MCO. They were all undoubtedly listening, even though I couldn't see them. It was mildly alarming that he had even contemplated giving away such things in the open, even to my friends. Plenty of time to tell them later, if they still wanted to know. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.
I hurried ahead while everyone packed up, with Jeeves on my heels. Saving the good desks in the back of study hall was important; it kept us together and kept other people from trying to read things from over my shoulder. I'd already caught one guy trying to do that a few days ago; all I needed was some random kid getting my jet pack and putting out an eye or blowing off an arm with it, or something.
I'd say people had more sense than that, but with some it was hard to tell.
Mr. Mullins didn't do more than just look up as I strode in with Jeeves behind me and plopped down with a sigh. He didn't even bat an eye when Jeeves carefully placed my laptop on the desk, stepped back behind me, and all but glared at the class.
The class found other places for their eyes to be.
Sam and Maggie came in and took the flanking desks, as expected. Ricky walked in a minute later, and scowled, deciding on the desk in front of me. I waved, but the bell rang before I could say anything. Which was probably for the best, because I wasn't sure how happy Ricky would be if I had actually said the first thing that popped into my head. I had been about to ask him if he wanted help with his homework, and that would probably have been all kinds of awkward.
I pulled the laptop out of sleep mode and the processor design came up. I started working on it; just like Gym, I didn't need to worry about anything crazy happening. Well, more crazy than Sam staring at my screen and just watching me. I really hoped I didn't have to have the same talk with her that I had with the other guy. What was his name? Gerry I think. Didn't matter, I guess; I mean, I could always just go over and ask. I looked the guy's way and caught him staring; he blushed and went back to his own homework. Math, it looked like.
I brushed aside all distractions and focused.
The processor took shape. It was almost done, in fact when the ringing bell startled me. I wanted to throw up my hands and scream; I was so close! Jeeves was already packing everything up.
“Pace yourself, mistress Min.”
Maggie was looking at me oddly. I took a breath and blew it out. Jeeves was right.
“What?”
“Nothing, you just zoned out. Ignored me entirely.”
“Ack! Sorry.”
“No problem, just the price of you being awesome.”
Sam nodded along with that as I resisted blowing her a raspberry. I looked over at Ricky; if I had ignored everyone, had I missed he had said at me? He did seem a bit angry, but it didn't seem to be directed at me. Still, I leaned over and whispered to Maggie:
“I miss anything?”
Maggie's ever-present grin widened as she answered with an even softer whisper than I had managed.
“Not much. He just invited himself along to the Halloween party with the cool kids is all, and didn't like the idea of us all coordinating costumes.”
“Oh. Well, what were your plans?”
“I was thinking superheroes!”
I caught Sam rolling her eyes as mine were circling. No way was I doing that, it would interfere with my own plans regarding Jeeves's punishment. I shook my head.
“Won't work. We need to do something 18th century if we are coordinating at all.”
“Oh? Why?”
I didn't need to whisper the last part; Jeeves would hear it anyway.
“Because I'm punishing Jeeves. You know, for being Jeeves.”
Jeeves for his part, just stared back at me impassively. Sam broke in, surprising me. Was that a smile, there?
“We can switch.”
A full sentence even! I was a positive influence.
We all piled into English class and were promptly bored. It was all reading today, anyway. I stood up and read when it was my turn, but otherwise went over the bot designs. I would need to buy more notebooks soon, so I'd stop using my class ones.
Finally, the bell rang and we were released from prison for the day. Jeeves packed up for me, and we left, Maggie and Sam keeping pace, and Ricky and Ralph both walking on ahead. Jeeves watched our backs, of course. It was finally time to get some real work done.
Today was the day. Today was the day I was to meet Shecky Green. And if I was lucky, I'd be able to start the actual design phase of my crash test dummy-bots, and get Ian's computer designed and made. Then maybe, if I did all that, I could work on the rocket engines I wanted. I had a pretty cool idea for a small plane, it was actually much better than yesterday's idea.
I stretched as the alarm went off. I couldn't really keep redesigning if I ever wanted to build, but yesterdays designs really were inadequate. The computer processors I designed might even be a little less efficient than the ones in my laptop. More computing power, but also more power usage and more heat. I could maybe set one of the bots to cook. I had spent all afternoon and last night loading the printer and making some last minute adjustments. The design wasn't perfect, but I'd learn more just by making one than I would from running endless simulations and second guessing myself; it wasn't like I didn't have the resources to make several already. If it sucked as an assistant then I could just melt it back down.
There was a polite knock on the door. “Time to prepare for school, Mistress Min.”
Odd, the last few times he walked right in. Maybe it was because I was awake and actually feeling good for once?
I beat Ian to the bathroom again, but I knew he was awake; his computer was on and something with explosions was playing on it. Was he simply waiting on me? Being nice, since I now had to take longer to get ready due to this stupid hair? That seemed a little difficult to picture; maybe he'd stayed up and fell asleep at his computer again? That seemed more likely. Either way, I wasn't about to ruin it.
My clothes were already waiting for me, as were all the soaps and shampoos and conditioners and other crap people expected me to use. I used it, showering as quickly as I could. A few (alright, more than a few brushstrokes through my hair and then I got dressed, in the dress shirt that seemed grafted to a sweater; I had no idea what to call it, really, even though I was sure it had a name. Both it and the jeans hugged me and were warm, so it was a good choice. It felt cold today. Well more cold; one of the things I noticed was that I felt a little cold even on warm days. Thermal regulation did not seem to be something my body did well anymore.
It made me glad my lab coat wasn't a banned item at school. Speaking of which, it was downstairs. Ian left his room as I left the bathroom, his computer now quiet. I had my answer.
Breakfast was ready, and aside from the coffee, it was weird. “Jeeves, what is this, exactly?”
Mom and Dad were already chewing away, making moans of pleasure so I doubted it was poison, but still, it looked like a weird sort of oatmeal with… were those sliced peaches added in? Grapefruit maybe?
“Quinoa porridge, with chia, peaches, grapefruit, and a touch of lemon.” Was the unexpectedly comprehensive response.
“And what is Quinoa?” I'd never heard of it, but it was obviously a grain of some kind. I poked at it with the spoon, trying to get a better idea by its shape.
“An edible grain, mistress Min. It is considered tasty when prepared like this by a majority of humans.”
Mom finished chewing and glared. “Sit down, quit picking at it, and eat it. It's good and very good for you. Helps to promote tissue regrowth, which is good for a regenerator.”
I took an experimental bite. It really wasn't bad; it tasted more like barley than oatmeal, but it wasn't bad. It was even better with the peaches. The coffee was smooth and mild today; did Jeeves tailor that to my health too?
Well, either way, I wanted more of it. Maybe a full pot. “This coffee is coming with me.”
Dad opened his mouth, then looked up; I met his eyes and he closed it. Darn right; he can have some, but I'm taking the rest. If I hid it well the teachers wouldn't catch on. Jeeves didn't even question it, instead pulling out a shiny, brand new looking stainless steel thermos I didn't know we had. It looked like it would be perfect for sample collecting later if I needed to.
Ian came down and stared into his bowl. Mom gently sat him down as she went for a refill; she cut in front of Jeeves before he could start pouring himself. “Eat young man, it's good for you.”
Ian's reply was expected. “That must mean it tastes like… a – err, it's awful.”
I grinned as Mom glared. We both knew what he had been about to say. He was poking at his bowl much like I had; I decided to ease his fears. “It tastes just fine Ian. Kind of like a barly cereal. Like fruit loops, sort of.”
He took a bite and gave a glare of his own. “This tastes nothing like fruit loops.”
Of course, that didn't stop him from eating more.
Jeeves set a glass of orange juice in front of Ian then started brushing my hair while I finished up. He didn't dish me seconds, which was good since I was pretty full. I left my dishes in the sink but took my coffee with me back upstairs. I had to collect the notes I made last night.
Most were on my nightstand, but some had drifted to the floor; I really shouldn't use loose-leaf sheets for note taking, I guess. I got them and checked the clock. I still had a good twenty minutes; that was plenty of time. I drained my mug on the way back downstairs and topped it off with the last liquid in the pot. Ian was eating seconds, and both Mom and Dad had topped off cups as well. Dad was still reading, but I realized he had switched from the paper to soldier of fortune magazine. He was probably looking at the guns again.
Mom was collecting dishes; that wouldn't do at all. “Mom, let Jeeves do that. Jeeves, do the dishes and make sure everything I need for the day is in my backpack. I'm going out to my lab, let me know when it's time to go to school.”
“Yes, mistress Min.” He waited until Mom turned to me, mouth open, then snuck in front of the sink; she wouldn't be able to move him now. I grabbed my coat and ducked out before she got over the distraction and returned to whatever she was going to say to me. If I didn't hear her say not to go, then I wouldn't have to obey!
A short jog and I unlocked the door, allowing the retinal scanner to do its work. It wasn't perfect, but between it and the fingerprint detector on the door handle, it would keep anyone but a mystique wannabe out. I would make the security a bit more robust starting today, but the first step to that was providing an android like my crash test dummy; he could at least be programmed with a list of who could be let in and who to raise the alarm about. I was glad I remembered to keep the keys in my coat.
My laptop was on the desk, sleeping. I hit the button for the window shutters and crossed over while they retracted from the windows and skylight with a faint rumble. Jiggling the mouse a little woke it up and I started feeding my last minute notes in by scanner, letting the program I'd build a week ago run a comparison match between the older and newer blueprints. It took about ten minutes, going by the clock on the wall.
I cycled the start up for the 3d printer then started the simulations on the latest merged blueprints. I was pretty happy with myself when the clock struck 7:30 and I hadn't gone into any sort of episode; I hoped that meant it was getting easier, but I didn't want to fool myself; it could just be that old designs (even a day old) didn't hold my interest the same way new stuff did. There was a knock on the door at 7:30 and 15 seconds.
“It is time for school, mistress Min.”
“Coming!” I wasn't sure why Jeeves didn't just come in, he was cleared too and had his own key (I wasn't absolutely sure, but if anyone would have made a spare key for themselves, it would have been him).
I set the printer on automatic, put the signs up so no one would stumble into it and get hurt. With the receptacle chute in place to prevent anything from getting damaged when it was finished, I left and locked up. “Jeeves, if you aren't doing anything else, can you check on the printer throughout the day? I have it set up but it really should be at least looked in on. I'll leave the laptop here so you can shut it off remotely just in case.”
“Of course, mistress Min.” So he really did have a key of his own; good. It would be a bit of a pain to just make notes for a day, but using my phone the way I used my laptop would get noticed, and I didn't have the clearance to use my phone that way by the school, so it'd just get confiscated as if I were making texts in class or something.
The slight irritation would be worth it, anyway; I'd made do with notebooks before, and it wasn't even that long ago.
I waved to my respective tails as we walked, and both of them (agent Sands and agent Douglas, both opposite each other in different nondescript cars, both not fooling anyone) waved back with sheepish grins. Agent Sands saluted me with his coffee as I passed. It was Starbucks, and that meant it was inferior. Between that and the donut on his dash, I almost felt sorry for him. I wonder if it would break some sort of code to invite him over for breakfast for a day? Of course, if I did that I'd have to invite agent Douglas over as well; wouldn't be fair to him otherwise.
Ricky was waiting at the end of his block, like usual, dribbling a basketball. Decisions, decisions… more time using my phone to plot potential weak points in robotic joint design, or steal his ball? I tucked my phone into my back pocket as we got close and made my move right as he opened his mouth to say hello.
“Morning Min. Hey, my ball!”
I still got it. Well, some of it, anyway. “Morning Ricky, how are you?”
I dribbled the ball a bit and passed it back to him. He caught it with that distinctive slap of ball hitting hand that I missed and went back to dribbling, falling in next to me.
“Pretty good, got all my homework done. Parents aren't flipping out about the C I got in history yesterday. They have changed priorities lately.”
Well, that sounded ominous. Ricky's parents weren't as cool as mine; they were always yelling at him about low grades or turning his music down or some other such thing… and I was pretty sure they did not like me. They hadn't met the new me, mostly because I was busy, but the way they had acted before – it was nothing I could really put my finger on, they were always nice and polite, but it was as if they considered me the reason Ricky got into all the trouble he did at school; a thought I'd shared with Ricky and we'd both laughed over in the past.
“So what's on tap for you today? That wayward robot coming home still?”
“Yep, that and I'm working on another. I think I'll name him Crash.”
Ricky made a humming noise, switching dribbling hands. “That seems like a pretty obvious name, even for a testing robot. How long will he take to make?”
Of course, it was an obvious name. I sucked at names. “He will probably be done tonight or tomorrow? I'm not really sure. He could take a week, but if Jeeves is there to oversee the production, it shouldn't take nearly that long. I kind of really need him for security; there are a lot of crazies out there, and I won't stay an unknown forever.”
I could do a lot of good, but only if I didn't piss off the wrong people or something. I was pretty sure a jealous devisor with more resources than I had would eat me alive, and that ARNEE was right for hiding – or rather, I was right, for programming him to hide even from myself. What I didn't know, I couldn't reveal. On the other hand, I had to take it slow, or I might make everyone else nervous.
Like Ricky, he seemed a bit nervous right now. “You mean more like that one jerk?”
I wasn't going to treat his concerns lightly. “Or worse than him, yes. I just want to be ready.”
I could see me getting kidnapped for my tech, devisor or not. Or maybe I was just paranoid. After all, no one had tried to force me to do anything yet, and it had been weeks! The CIA hadn't even tried to force me to reveal ARNEE. It wouldn't have done them any good, but they hadn't even tried. I was probably just reading too much into it; it wasn't like my tech was reproducible, even if it made perfect sense to me.
Of course, that didn't stop random people from stopping by and assuming this area was easy pickings. It had happened before, after all. Either way, it would ease my mind to be ready. Well, within reason; I didn't want to start a terminator scenario either. So far my robots had proven loyal, but their idea of loyalty was infuriating at times.
The school came into view and Jeeves stopped, handing off my backpack. It was heavier than I remembered. “Have a wonderful day mistress Min, and do not hesitate to call should you need me. I am heading back now to oversee the printer. I shall be waiting for you at mid-day at your usual spot with lunch. If you'll excuse me.”
I waved him off and he left; setting the backpack on a shoulder almost knocked me completely off balance. Ricky moved to help but was saved from a pounding by the arrival of Maggie and Sam. I wasn't THAT weak, it just took me by surprise was all; six books and notebooks shouldn't be that heavy.
I went to my locker and placed my books inside it; I'd read them already, so they were just taking up space. Anything I needed to refresh myself on I had my notes for, but I didn't seem to forget anything technical or any rote facts anymore. Even better it seemed to work retroactively, so I could remember past middle school lessons, especially the math and science. If I'd forgotten last years history lessons… well, I'd forgotten them, so how would I know? I didn't think I did, though, I knew how many people Washington crossed the Delaware with of all things, and I was pretty sure I'd forgotten that at one point.
I was proven right by my first class. A pop quiz, and I had it done in five minutes. I adjusted my glasses, pulled out one of my design notebooks and got to work, trying to ignore the way Pam was sneaking glances at me. She wouldn't even talk to me lately and it seemed like she was avoiding me. Other than her, though, the school seemed to be back to ignoring me, or at least no longer staring at me when I walked by. It could just be my imagination, but people seemed more friendly to me now. I kind of hoped it was just something I was imagining since it made no sense; people were distrustful and wary of Ralph, the other mutant in school.
Maybe it was because I was tiny. It certainly wasn't the hair, mine was every bit as bright as his, if less eye-searing. It took some getting used to, but I was getting used to it, slowly. It was a bit fascinating how quickly and easily humans could get used to changes in their appearance. Why it happened wasn't as easily understood – at least not for me. Maybe I could ask an expert. Well, just as soon as I found one.
Class periods passed in the same boring manner of school class periods everywhere. Algebra and geography were droning lectures covering material I'd already read and understood. It was interesting to see how the Rhone river had moved it's bed over the centuries, though, even if it was just a computer model and therefore likely flawed.
Gym was just more sitting around, writing in my notebook. A few modifications to my other robot design, and my newer jet design, and I looked up. Only fifteen minutes had passed, and something was wrong. Ralph, who had been sitting next to me reading a book, noticed it too.
“What's wrong, Min?”
I shook my head; it actually took a moment to figure it out, but the light dawned. “I'm bored.”
I was actually bored of just sitting here writing. I wanted to go do something, anything, more hands on that this. I stood up.
“Come on, let's go see the coach.” After all, if I was bored, Ralph had to be too, right? A look back showed he was following me and he hadn't objected, so that was a yes.
Coach Howard was watching the class play; he turned to us as we walked up. I opened my mouth in a hurry before he opened his.
“Coach, I know we're not allowed to participate with the other kids, but is there anything we can do? Kind of want to move a little, here. Maybe we can run laps outside or something? The day is pretty nice.”
Of course, I hadn't changed into any gym clothes, and that would make it harder to run… but for all that it was nice, it was a little chilly so my coat would come in handy. It wasn't like I was cheating or anything.
Too bad the Coach shot that idea down with a shake of his head. “You're both still under my supervision, and I'd have to be watching. If you went outside, I wouldn't be able to keep an eye on you. I don't mind you doing something, but it'd have to be alone or the two of you, and it'd have to be inside.”
He cupped his chin, thinking. I could actually see the idea strike him. “Got it. There is something you can do if you want.”
I didn't like his grin. “What is it?”
If he asked me to clean out the closets again, I was going to unleash mechanical spiders on him. I could do it, I knew.
“Ping pong. Table tennis. You can set up the table in the corner there, and play a few games. It located in the closet, far wall, next to the baseball bag. The balls and paddles are in the felt bag under the table top.”
Really? Ping pong? “Don't you have anything that's a little more… active?”
He shrugged back at me. “Not that you can dig out on short notice. I can plan a little something tomorrow, but you kind of caught me by surprise here.”
I could tell what he wanted to say. That I had been quite content before to write weird things and make paper animals. I couldn't even say I wouldn't be back to that tomorrow, because ping pong. But for now it was something to do, and a way to move around.
I went to the closet and Ralph followed me without a word. He stepped in front of me as I turned on the light (the closet had no windows, and was, therefore, dim) and just picked up the table by himself. Sure, it wasn't a heavy thing, but it was awkward, but every time I reached out to help he moved the table away, smirking all the while. I finally just held the door for him.
“Thank you, dear lady.” I smirked back at him when he banged the edge of the table against the door frame and almost tripped himself. Coach Howard spared him a glare; the sound had apparently been loud enough for him to hear and no doubt we would get a lecture later about being more careful with school property; never mind that the table as older than I was and made of old wood and steel.
We unfolded it together in the corner, picked our paddles, and I grabbed a ball, taking the coveted first serve. All in all, we squeezed in three games.
Ralph kicked my butt in all three. The guy was a ping pong wizard or something. I couldn't even see his hands move half the time, it was stupid, but I had fun anyway.
I was actually a little tired as I helped fold the table up and put it away. This time, Ralph let me help, though he supported all the weight; I just got to help him steady it and open the door again. It was a good sort of burn, though, and I was looking forward to lunch.
Ralph went to get his lunch and then ran back to my side, scattering people with a disturbing lack of caution. I waited a bit so he'd slow down, but he didn't. At least all that happened were dirty looks, and no one got hurt. My lunch was set up at the table under the tree, with Jeeves standing there, one hand on the covered platter, the other on the chair I liked.
I sat and he actually lifted the chair up and set it closer with one hand as he removed the lid. On the dish were a good ten or twelve items I recognized; grilled Panini.
I turned to look at him as he served one to my plate. “Losing your touch? I've actually had Panini before.”
“Zucchini Panini, mistress Min, Italian style.' He uncovered the other dishes and pointed to each in turn. 'Garden Risotto and Sicilian artichokes.”
Okay, I hadn't had any of that before. But one day, he would screw up and serve me something that didn't take a thousand years to make, and I would laugh at him. He poured some dark juice, and I took a sip; cranberry-pomegranate, one of my favorite. Knowing Jeeves, it was probably the best juice for the food, too.
Sam and Maggie came up and took their seats. Ralph had known better than to sit down. Neither Sam nor Maggie were carrying lunches, and there were place settings for them, but there was no way the three of us were going to eat all this alone. It made me worry how much money Jeeves was no doubt spending on food; could we even afford this?
The first question for Shecky, perhaps. Maybe right after why his name was Shecky; it all but screamed 'shyster'.
“Wow, these are really good!” Maggie exclaimed, talking with a full mouth. Sam just nodded along.
“Please consume the side dishes as well, if you please.” Jeeves chided as several of the Panini made their way onto the others plates. Maggie nodded, but Sam had the good grace to look repentant, stabbing artichokes with a fork and moving them over.
Ricky walked up empty handed and without so much as a word or thought snagged a Panini himself, cramming half of it into his face immediately while Jeeves looked on with clear disapproval. After chewing noisily for a bit he swallowed and spoke, sounding almost angry.
“So, you wanted to ping-pong today?”
Sam chimed in. “Good.”
I actually knew what she meant, that time. “Kind of you to say Sam, but I sucked. And yeah, I just wanted to do something. I don't mind folding cranes or playing chess or designing stuff, but I wanted to move, you know?”
Sam clarified. “Not you; Ralph.”
Maggie laughed. “Yeah, he was pretty good, wasn't he? Who knew he was a ping-pong ace?”
Well, now I felt stupid. “Gee, thanks, Sam.” She nodded as if to say 'don't mention it.'
Ralph was turning an interesting shade, though.
“Might even finish lunch early and walk around a little. It's a nice day.”
It really was, a slight fresh smelling breeze, sunny with only two white clouds in the sky. I pretended not to notice the unmarked van across the street and turned back to my lunch.
“Jeeves, what's the progress on Crash?” The name Crash did more than suit him, it described him, but I really needed to think of a different one.
“When I left, two hundred of the three hundred and twenty-seven parts were printed. Excepting the power system, of course. You will have to build that by hand, I fear. When I return, I shall begin the construction, with your permission.”
I nodded, thinking.”You have it.”
My technology was dangerous; a fully functioning android in a day or two. Looking human, with just a few quirks – and that was on one printer. I could simply make more than one printer if I wanted; streamline the process - end up making hundreds or thousands. It would be easy, with a little money.
But I wouldn't. There was nothing I needed such an army for, anyway. I needed to know if my creations would turn on me, too. I had some safety measures in place, but I had to make sure they would be enough. So far Jeeves hadn't fired eye lasers, yelled death to humans, or poisoned me, so I was pretty sure the programming was sound.
But I needed more data to be sure, and another android would give me that. Simulations could only tell one so much, after all. I just had to be careful not to go overboard; already ideas for weaponized androids were floating around in my head; robots who were only built for one purpose.
My power was scary.
It turned out that after two Panini, the Risotto, and four artichokes later there wasn't enough time left to do more than shuffle around to the side door while Jeeves packed up. Maggie fell into step beside me, prompting Sam to stop helping Jeeves (Something that was ridiculous, really; Jeeves wouldn't want help doing what he was made for, after all, it would be like reducing his purpose for existing.) and fall in behind us.
“Well, tough break. So, what are you planning after school?”
I rolled my eyes. “Same thing I said I was doing yesterday, Maggie. Working on the engine.”
She grinned. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure. You have changed your mind before, and you do have that robot coming over. We're still invited, right?”
I sighed. “Yes, you are. You all are.”
I would have to double check the safety measures and equipment before I turned anything on. Especially around the printer. I was pretty sure why the printer was acting that way, it was detecting metals, minerals, and other materials suited for the print jobs I was giving it, and trying to save effort and time by eating them.
Perhaps if I split the atoms of matter correctly, I could reconstruct it and make one type of matter into something else. Then I could have that device make the material for the printer, and it wouldn't be trying to eat people's computers, phones, or androids. No, that just wasn't possible. It would be possible to do that sort of thing with metals, making different alloys and such, or making gems or crystals, using pressure or chemical treatments, but taking a rock like sandstone and making it titanium? Just wouldn't work. Still, that was another machine, or even series of machines, to add to the list.
“Earth to Min?”
I looked up to find Ralph staring at me, Ricky looking vaguely pissed about something in the background. Maggie had the door open and a smirk on her face and Sam was... behind me?
“Sorry. Was thinking about something.”
“Oh? What was it this time?”
“Just going over the safety measures. I don't want anyone to lose an eye or anything, after all.”
Maggie shrugged and stepped inside. “I trust you.”
“Trust.” Sam seconded.
I stepped in after them, Ricky right behind. Ralph ended up holding the door for both of us.
School dragged. My homework took less than twenty minutes to do since I no longer needed to read any of my books, and I spent some time on making origami animals. Dolphins and sharks were easy, but the gorillas were crazy; I resolved to burn those before Ralph could see my laughable attempts.
Then I started writing the necessary molecule chain of a titanium/aluminum alloy that could be layered in mono-molecular sheets and fused; I couldn't possibly heat the materials I had high enough, but I there were other ways. I could make a batch of nanites to physically move the matter and then fuse to it. If I did it right, they could become the basis for any circuitry I would need later, but I really just wanted a blast shield and some movable walls from the idea now. Proof of concept.
And all this without my brain going into that mysterious upper gear it had. I had perfect recall of my location and situation! But I could still feel it lurking there, in the back of my mind. Keeping my thoughts grounded required constant vigilance.
English was boring. I collected my graded homework, blinking at the B; evidently my ideas on Shakespeare's midsummer night's dream were not sufficiently detailed. Granted, it was still better than my old work, but Mom was going to be pissed. I was pretty sure she expected A's in every subject.
The assignment Mrs. Holmes handed down was to read the next one on the list; King Lear. I'd already read it, but I probably should read it again. I knew what the problem with my last paper had been; I had wanted to get it done so I could work on other things, like Crash. That was something else I'd have to watch. I gathered my notebooks and left, nodding to Mrs. Holmes as I joined the exodus out the door. She frowned at me a little but didn't say anything.
Surely she wasn't disappointed in my B too? I mean I used to get C's in English, getting B's was a rare event. It wasn't really fair.
I wasn't the only one to get the disappointed eye. Ricky also got it, and he was still clutching his paper – I could see the large C on it. Oh well, there was nothing to do for it now, but to do better next time. I stopped by my locker with a sigh. King Lear was in it, part of the truly large literature text that was one-half of the English course. The other half was the grammar and writing rules text of course.
I spun the combination, grabbed the book, and shut the door. Ralph was revealed, waiting.
“Come on, I'll act as a trailblazer for you.”
True to his word he took off, using his bright hair to his advantage; the wave of students broke upon his personal space. I followed; my hair was pretty bright, come to think of it; I wonder why people didn't avoid me the same way they avoided Ralph? Was it because my hair was eye-searing? Was it some buried predator response leftover in their human psyche from nature, the bright orange denoting poison, while my own bright but softer hair just missed the cut?
No, that seemed stupid. Maybe it was his size; after all, he was as big as I used to be, and built, and I was tiny now. That was probably it.
Maggie, Sam, and Ricky were already waiting with Jeeves, who was just off school grounds. That was kind of odd since he was now allowed to accompany me to class if he wanted. He'd seemed so... if not excited, he seemed interested.
There was one possibility to account for that. “Jeeves, when did you arrive?”
He didn't hesitate. “I arrived at this location exactly seventeen point two three seconds ago.”
Right, he'd been busy, and rather than watch me at school he was doing as I asked. A point in his favor.
I started walking, and Maggie fell in on one side, Same fell in on the other. Ricky, Ralph, and Jeeves walked behind us. That seemed a curious arrangement, but I refused to be distracted by it.
“Have you heard from Shecky yet, Jeeves?”
“I have indeed, fifty-six minutes ago. He is on the final leg of his journey, and reported he should arrive within the hour, barring complications.”
I had the butterflies in my stomach trained to do synchronized cartwheels. “Good.”
“Status on the print jobs?” On Crash?
“The part fabrications are roughly 77% complete. I have begun preliminary construction. The engine awaits your gentle touch.”
Well, that was better progress than expected. “How did you manage that, Jeeves?”
“I fabricated some of the required pieces for the engine personally, of course.”
Well, I hadn't told him not to, though how he did that and started Crash's construction was the question now; He couldn't multi-task any better than I could. Could he?
I mean unless he had more arms, he shouldn't be able to.
“So, anything new going on, Maggie?” Ralph asked.
Maggie thought he meant with the paper; he probably did. “Nah, nothing. This place is dead; other than Min, biggest news is whether the drought expected later this summer will actually happen and stunt the corn crop.”
No news was good news.
“National.” Sam said with a pointed look.
“Oh, right, you guys hear about the new mutant laws proposed? They are a clear violation of civil rights. It's in all the news.”
Ralph snorted. “My mom says they won't pass, but it seems like congress wants to waste time over stupid stuff.”
Sam nodded as I pondered that. I couldn't see how adding more laws and regulation would actually help the problem, but then again I was a kid, and not exactly the best versed on the issues. It might be time to change that.
Talk turned to the game scheduled next week against the town of Libertyville next week, and the chances our team had of beating them. The chances without me probably weren't good, but I'd be there cheering at least, maybe that would help.
And then we were home. “Be right there guys. Just going to drop my bag at the door and tell my Mom we're home.”
Sure, I could let Jeeves do it, but Mom would not appreciate that; she would want me to tell her I was home myself.
I opened the door and frowned; Ian's shoes were not here, so he wasn't. Normally he beat me home.
“Mom, I'm home! Going out to the lab with my friends, my homework is done!”
I dropped my bag in the corner and shut the door before I could be drafted for something. There, she was informed, and my conscience was clear.
My friends were waiting on me; Jeeves wouldn't unlock the door until I'd arrived. He opened it up and I went straight to the refreshments on the table, zeroing in on the cup of still steaming coffee. Everyone else grabbed sodas.
Jeeves had also made cookies... peanut butter and chocolate chip, by the looks of them. I wasn't hungry yet, but I knew I would be.
Sam was less shy, stuffing her face immediately as I went over to look at the engine hanging suspended in the center from chains, under the skylight.
“Delicious.” She gushed. Well, gushed for her.
The frame was together, the lines for power had been run, and the slotted sections designed to hold the delicate electronics and internals were all there. What was missing were the delicate electronics and internals. They were lying there on the desk, checking them for flaws, putting them together, and then slotting them in the case should be easy, if a little tedious. I set a magnifying glass above the parts, got my soldering iron out, and got to work.
Quick, delicate movements were the key. Luckily my hand-eye coordination was still very good. I was vaguely aware of conversations starting in the background, but it didn't bother me... it sounded like Sam and Maggie were doing their homework. Ricky joined in when the conversation got to English, and I approved; he needed the help.
“So, Min, what do you think about King Lear? Have you started reading it yet?” Maggie's question took me by surprise, but it really shouldn't have.
“I've read it, yes. I think the king is a stereotypical bumbling idiot with power, but he may be the origin, or one of the origins, of the stereotype. I think he really should have known which of his daughters was suitable to inherit, and should have known the political situation of his kingdom.”
I didn't add that I thought the entire thing was too trite and contrived. I didn't see any real king ever just giving up his entire kingdom and dividing it among his heirs.
Sam struck on my comments first, with a muttered “True.”
“Yeah, that's my take as well.” Maggie agreed. “I think Shakespeare was trying to illustrate a certain amount of stupidity of the noble class by ratcheting it up a notch, or something.”
I settled a recalcitrant transistor in place as Ralph took up the conversation. “The legend of King Lear is supposed to be real, though. He was supposed to be a real king, pre-Roman, and his story was recorded as mostly the way Shakespeare wrote it, at least in the general details.”
I turned to look at Ralph. Sam gaped at him openly. Ricky was gaping at him too. He hunched over defensively.
“What? I read.”
I turned back to my work with a shrug. “Well, if you're going to write that in the paper, you'll have to cite sources.”
I saw him wince out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah, I won't be doing that. Just something I read somewhere.”
Probably Wikipedia, when he knew King Lear was on the syllabus. I turned back to the circuit board with a frown; I had no idea what I'd write on the subject myself, but we all had time. The reading assignment had just been passed down, after all.
Where was Shecky?
I had the engine more than half assembled and Jeeves had long since left in order to prepare dinner when the lab doorbell chimed pleasantly. Everyone else looked up from their homework as I answered it; it seemed the novelty of watching me carefully construct things had already gone stale.
The man in the doorway was not a man. He certainly looked the part, being middle aged, chubby large, and happy looking with a broad smile on his face. The beady eyes and the pea green striped suit with red dress shirt underneath told the truth, however; no human would wear that color combination.
Why did he look so out of shape? Was it a fuel or power supply thing? Jeeves managed just fine with the magnetic turbine and that was only the size of a large fist, did ARNEE do something different for Shecky?
He stuck out his hand as his smile widened. “Miss Campbell, pleased to finally meet you. I'm Shecky Green, your agent, business manager, and attorney.”
I could play along. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Green. Call me Min, please.”
There was a scraping of seats and suddenly my friends were behind me. I also spotted Jeeves coming out the back door. He didn't look happy.
“Look, sorry I'm late, Traffic outside Christown was a bear.”
Christown was a tiny hamlet even smaller than Paris was, so I doubted that. But it looked like Shecky was the type to make excuses and be late, so maybe both had been programmed in as quirks? Or maybe they were unintentional quirks?
“Almost time for dinner, mistress Min.”
“Thank you, Jeeves.” I was saved having to push past Shecky; he moved back on his own as Jeeves approached. Once I was passed he held out his hand.
“Pleased to finally meet you Jeeves, I'm Shecky Green.”
Jeeves ignored the hand, putting himself at my back as everyone else filed out of the lab. Sam, the last one out, locked it and tossed me my keys, which I had apparently left on the table. I nodded thanks as I watched the show.
Jeeves and Shecky didn't like each other, it seemed. Well, Jeeves didn't like Shecky at least; Shecky seemed more amused by the reaction than anything else.
Sorry guys, I think dinner's going to be family only tonight. Maybe tomorrow?”
Maggie nodded with a grin; she'd caught on too. “Sure thing, tell us how it goes, alright?”
“Sure, I'll have the engine done tomorrow too, so we can test it.”
Sam brightened. She had paid at least some attention to what I had been doing.
I waved and went inside; Mom was waiting in the kitchen, but when her eyes lit on Shecky, following us in, she stopped.
“Who is that? Is that your mystery robot? I thought he was a no-show.”
Shecky swept his bulk into a florid bow. “Pleased to meet you, madam. Shecky Green, agent, and consultant in legal matters, including patent law.”
Mom shot a sort of 'is this guy for real?' look and started laughing.
Shecky ignored her. “I don't mean to interrupt your families dinner, but I just have a few things to cover with you all. You and your husband mostly, since miss Campbell is underage.”
“Oh, miss Campbell, is it?” Mom kept giggling.
Dad came storming in. “Who's wreck is that in the driveway?”
Shecky answered. “My wreck, sir. Shecky Green, agent and patent lawyer.”
Dad clearly didn't know what to think. “Uh, hi.”
“So, can I get you anything Mr. Green?” Mom asked with a sparkle in her eye.
“No, thank you, Ma'am. I'm just here to discuss a few legal matters with you both, then I'll be on my way.”
“Alright, what legal matters, exactly? Something was mentioned about patents before?” Wow, we weren't even going to sit down for this. A major breach in etiquette... but then again, dinner was probably on the table.
“Right.” Shecky reached into his jacket pocket, slowly. Mom and Dad both tensed. He pulled out a small book; a check book? He held it out to me.
I grabbed it before Mom could intercept me. It had Paris national stamped on it and was definitely a checkbook. There was a bank balance book inside it, and one of the new debit cards inside that.
“That's your account, miss Campbell. The profit from the sale of the rights to produce the new coffee pot filtration system, the new flange for jet engine casing and flange design should already be in the account, by contract you keep the right to make anything you design without challenge, but I've not yet been able to confirm all the payments as the bank is currently closed. Mr. Coffee picked up the new pot filtration design for three percent of sales, and GE and Rolls-Royce are currently in talks about the engine and flange design.”
He grinned. I wasn't amused. “You mean the engine I haven't even tested yet?”
He waved a hand in dismissal. “It'll work, and you've had the design down for days. Besides, this is just for the basic design and casing, not even including the fusion reactor. I knew you didn't want to sell anything too advanced, like the nanites or the magnetic turbine or the printer.”
Mom's eyes narrowed. “And how did you know that, Mr. Green?”
He pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face. “Tough crowd. Truth is, Ma'am, we all know about the boss and her dealings. Our jobs, our reasons for existence if you will, is to anticipate her wishes and help her as best we can. My job ain't the most glamorous, but she needs it. We keep an eye and an ear on her, and we can better do what she wants. Right now, what she wants, is her tech, her real tech, kept under wraps.
Things like the coffee maker and the flanges? Child's play. New ways to mold Titanium cases? Sure. The nanites or fusion or us? All of that can be world changin', and she don't want it getting out just yet. So it won't; or at least I won't be the one to do it. Only reason I'm stepping up the timetable now is miss Campbell needs the money to pay you both back.”
“Oh, and just how much money has the sale of these gadgets netted her?” Mom asked.
“Well, the coffeepot netted a hundred thousand up front; I talked Mr. Coffee into that, it wasn't something they wanted to do. That is actually in the account as of today. General Electric and Rolls-Royce are still in a bidding war for the engine. Something lighter than their normal and more efficient besides, translating to at least 3% better fuel efficiency without any power supply shenanigans aside, on an engine that can eventually be adapted to run on other forms of energy – inside a streamlined housing that creates less drag and can be machined easier.”
Shecky mopped his forehead and grinned, showing teeth before he continued.
“Right now the price for the design might top a hundred million.”
Jeeves caught me before I hit the floor. Mom wasn't far behind. And I'd been doing so well today too.
But the things I could do with actual money, on top of being filthy rich... even worse, the attention it would draw.
“We need a shell company, a trust, or something.”
Shecky, who was being blocked from checking up on me by Mom (Dad was on the floor in a daze, he had no Jeeves to carry him bridal style) nodded. “Already handled. You're a nameless, faceless inventor of SG heavy industries, as far as anyone knows. If anyone manages to get past that, your name is Consuela Jones and you live in the Philippines. No one will be able to track you down from your patents unless we want them to. Same with the payments.”
“Is there really a Consuela Jones?” I didn't want some random person getting hurt by someone coming after me.
“There are plenty, actually, but don't worry, anyone coming after you will do a background check first; they won't target random people.”
Mom nodded. I guess having friends in the CIA, she'd know. It all seemed a little too cloak and dagger-y to me.
I turned to Mom and Dad. It wasn't that I didn't trust Shecky – but I didn't trust Shecky. He just struck me as smarmy; kind of like a leashed used car salesman. One on your side, but still a used snake oil kind of guy.
“What do you think?”
Mom knew what I was asking right off, answering as Dad shook himself free of dollar sign dreams. “It sounds pretty good. Not foolproof, by any means, but with what my friends are doing? It'll be as close to ironclad as we can get here. Especially considering Mr. Green here can apparently hack and falsify records.”
Shecky actually blushed. How did he do that? “Aww shucks, Ma'am. You give me too much credit; I'm not the real hacker. But you're right that I can defend Miss Campbell from anything unlawful, at least on that side of things. We have friends.”
“The mysterious Arnee?”
Shecky grinned. “Got it in one, Ma'am.”
Dad finally managed to stand back up. “Young lady, that money and any other amount you earn, is going right into a trust fund; you're not getting it until you're eighteen.”
I looked at Shecky and he nodded slightly. He really was smarmy; he could get to the money if I really needed him to, wherever my parents put it. A good thing, really, because those kinds of funds could speed up my timeline by months. Strictly if I needed to, of course.
“Fine Dad, as long as I get an allowance to buy stuff every now and again. That way I won't run out of titanium or other stuff.”
Mom cut in. “That's fine, we can negotiate the amount later. For right now, dinner is getting cold.”
Mom had spoken. I poked Jeeves and he let me down. Shecky took that as his cue. “Alright, well I got things to do. I'll see if I can close that deal tonight if you'll all excuse me. I'll just leave my card right here and see myself out. Have a nice night.”
He left, shutting the back door behind him. I snagged it one step ahead of Mom; Dad was busy tracking him through the windows as he walked around the house.
The card was green ink on cheap card stock... and it proclaimed him as “Shecky Green, agent.” but when had he had time to order or make business cards?
We all filed into the dining room where dinner was waiting. Dinner was grilled pork chops, mashed potatoes, and Lima beans. I raised an eyebrow at Jeeves, and he nodded at my Mom. Well, that was a very Mom dinner menu; so she had cooked tonight, and Jeeves had what, helped?
Ian made typing motions with his hands as I passed. It was good to know all of us being rich hadn't made him forget about the important things, like his new computer. I mouthed 'in the lab' at him, and he nodded.
It was, too. Still in a pile of parts, but the computer did exist. I'd have Jeeves construct it tonight. Delegating counted, didn't it? I mean Jeeves was my creation, so him making it was like me making it, and I doubted he could screw up making a simple computer with the parts already printed off to tolerances. That would leave me to finish the engine, which was actually sort of dangerous.
Dinner was good, but a little bland tasting and disappointing, in a way. Of course, I was a genius now, which meant I knew better than to actually voice that opinion. Mom was already watching each of us in turn with a disconcertingly intense look like she was waiting for the wrong word or movement. Dad and Ian both looked at me as if to say it was my fault.
And Jeeves looked insufferable somehow.
“And test firing in 3, 2, 1... firing.”
The light bloomed, showing me I wore my goggles for nothing. The Engine strained against the reinforced clamps holding it in place; if any broke and the engine shifted the fuel line would cut off and the engine would stop, but for now everything was in the green and the monitor was showing four thousand pounds of thrust, which meant the clamps wouldn't hold more than thirty seconds.
Four thousand pounds of thrust out of a jet engine this size was pretty ridiculous, but I bet I could get it up to six with a few adjustments.
Speaking of adjustments, the data showed the engine didn't need any; the engine was stable and the test successful. My finger hovered over the cut-off switch, watching the screen for any deviation.
There wasn't any, and at twenty-seven seconds I pressed the button; the engine coughed and died. I removed my sound canceling headphones.
“The test is a success. Jeeves, remember to recycle the clamps; they held, but I don't trust them for the next round of testing.”
“Understood, mistress.”
Ricky, Maggie, Sam, and Ian took off their own goggles and ear protection (Safety was important!), already starting to gush, at least in Maggie's case. “Min, that was amazing! You hit the button and fwoosh! How did it do?”
“Four thousand pounds of thrust. Which, for what it's going to be installed in, is frankly a bit ridiculous.”
I looked over at the other corner of the lab through the open door; the jet was rolled there, out of the way. It had one engine installed already, with the open mount still mocking me. It was the roughly the size of a compact car and weighed in at just under a thousand pounds, most of that being safety features I couldn't skimp on. Or wasn't allowed to skimp on, even though I wouldn't be flying it. Mom was on a serious safety kick lately, and it had slowed everything down.
I had been forced to make so many other things before the jet, like the goggles and the headphones and the force field generator, just to scratch that annoying itch in the back of my mind.
And being told chapter and verse on what I had to build and when before I could move on to the fun stuff had gotten old fast.
But now, all that was finally over. I could install the second engine, and probably tomorrow now since it was nine, Crash could go on his first test flight.
Wait, it was nine already? Final assembly and the test had taken three hours, and Ian had been out here the entire time?!? Mom was going to kill me!
I shut off the force field around the engine and donned my gloves, built for tolerance to extreme heat. Jeeves stopped me, and snatched them off, putting them on his own hands. “I'll clean up here, Mistress Min. You go inside. You still have some homework to complete, after all.”
Urk. I knew I'd forgotten something. Homework had gotten more tedious lately, and I could only write so fast. Stupid slow hands. Jeeves refused to do it for me, even if I dictated; when I asked why he said it was a deal with my Mom.
I wasn't touching that.
I led the way inside, Ian slowing just before I got to the door. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he just silently gestured me in. Did he think I'd be the sacrificial offering?
“Mom, I'm done! Jeeves is cleaning up.”
“Alright. I didn't hear anything blow up, so I assume it worked?” Came her response from upstairs. Wonder what she was up to?
“Just perfectly. It ran like a top, and the clamps even held.”
Mom came down just as I reached the living room; a movie was paused, and Dad was sitting there with popcorn. So, an impromptu movie night? With an old horror movie, it looked like. That kind of sucked, I liked horror movies. Sure I'd seen this one, but they probably didn't know that.
Mom was all dressed up. That was weird.
“Good to know. It was pretty loud in here, did the sound baffling work?”
Sigh, I had made her and Dad headphones like I had too. “Yes Mom, it all worked.”
I wasn't about to tell her that I hadn't put all the baffling on since it seemed pointless in an engine test. Besides, I needed to see some of the mechanism in action.
“Alright. Are the dishes done?”
Urk. “No?”
“Then do them. Your homework done?”
“Mostly?” How do Mom's always know?
“Then do that after.”
I started the water with a sigh. Ian grinned on the way up the stairs, no doubt on the way to use the computer I built for him. Insufferable jerk.
“So...” I jumped. Mom was still here? “The Halloween dance is tomorrow, right?”
Oh wait, it was. Tomorrow was Friday already? Time flew when you were building jet engines and making money. I wondered again why they didn't have it on Halloween; I mean it was just a day later.
“Yeah, it is.”
Mom started handing me the dirty dishes, a weird look on her face. Coy? Sly? I wasn't sure what it was.
“So... got your costume all ready?”
I couldn't help but grin. I hadn't shown the costumes to anyone. “I've got mine and Jeeves's costume ready.”
I'd had to send away for them in order to keep it a secret from Jeeves, but it would be worth it; my revenge would be sweet!
Mom made a hmm noise, and handed me a glass. “So, are you going with anyone?”
Well of course I was. It wouldn't do to go alone anywhere, in this day and age. “I'm going with Jeeves, of course. And Maggie and Sam are coming with us. Ricky and Ralph are coming too. We should be safe from weirdos.”
Mom stopped and looked at me, a glass in hand and her mouth open.
“What?”
“Nothing honey, nothing. Ian is going to want to do some trick-or-treating Saturday. The plan is for me to take him, did you want to go?”
“Mooom, I'm too old for trick-or-treating.” Well too old for the treating part anyway. Last year Ricky and I had switched the Halloween decorations for the entire street as a prank; it was hilarious. The looks on some faces had been... well, I had never wanted a camera more than at that moment.
We had made sure to switch them back the next night, of course. Well, the ones who hadn't already traded decorations back; it was a prank, not something malicious.
“Sure you are, honey, sure you are. Though if you dressed up people would never suspect.”
Did... Mom just make a short joke at me? I turned to look, right into her wide grin. She had! “Mom, not cool at all.”
She ruffled my hair. “Don't break any of my dishes; I'm going to go back to the movie before your dad sends out a search party.”
She made a show of walking casually out of reach, which wasn't really that far. At least I could reach the sink, I guess.
A sniff picked up the hint of wine on her breath; just what was going on here, while I was testing a jet engine just outside? You'd think they would be more worried about that, but since the last – discussion, there had been nothing. Well, nothing except the sit down to discuss safety features and precautions I would be taking.
They had insisted on the force field and blast shields to cover the test area, just in case the engine blew up, the only thing to take damage would be the yard. As if anything I built was just going to randomly blow up! I was careful. Even Jeeves, who had more reason and opportunity to blow up than anything else I'd made, was perfectly stable, routine maintenance aside.
I finished the dishes and headed upstairs. Speaking of Jeeves, I'd kind of expected him before now. Maybe he was checking the status of the grass? Dad hadn't said anything yet, but I was pretty sure he'd noticed the way that Jeeves's slightly off-color grass was slowly taking over his pristine yard. Jeeves was supposed to be fixing it when I was asleep, but so far he hadn't managed to kill or even halt the spread of the grass. I didn't want to step in, but if Dad blamed me I'd have to. The only good news about it was the grass didn't seem to want to jump property lines at all; there was a sharp delineation between that side of our yard and the Herschel's yard.
My books were there on the desk, mocking my lack of desire. Getting through English was chore now, and one not even speed-reading could completely help me with. I almost wrote down some random crap just to get done with the stupid worksheet I had to do, but remembered the deal to keep my grades up just in time. If I kept solid A's, I would be able to order some more exotic materials online, things I couldn't just print out.
I had to correct two errors in my math worksheet before solving the twenty problems on it. I hoped Mr. Mullins appreciated the effort, because quite honestly it annoyed me to do it. The proper format of the question was even online, and corrected in more recent versions of the book we were using.
Just to be a jerk I put a few of the more esoteric equations regarding calculating the distance and mass of black holes down in the margins of the paper; he would probably have to look them up, and in so doing might stumble on how bad his book is.
Then I realized I was an idiot and had just given up that I knew those calculations. On a worksheet I wasn't allowed to copy off, and so couldn't just throw it away and start over. Maybe he wouldn't look those up after all, or care? Maybe he wouldn't understand the true significance?
I couldn't even scribble them out or sabotage them now since there would be people wondering why I did that. It would draw less suspicion to leave them alone and play it off as the prank it was.
I was just finishing up when Jeeves opened the door. I yawned and eyed the sitting squarely on the platter in his hand. With that, I could stay up some more, and maybe game or something....
I took a sip and almost yawned it back out. The chances of me staying awake long didn't look good, but I wasn't going to let the chance to unwind a bit go easily, especially after all that tedium.
I booted up my real time strategy game and went hunting for opponents online. I could crush at least one victim before sleep claimed me. It would be quick, I held too many advantages; quick reflexes, a quick better than state of the art computer, and knowledge of the code the game was based on. I was already the third highest rank tier the game offered (platinum, a lovely metal I liked to work with) with almost no games played.
There were even videos made on how to play the game and a budding professional scene. Going pro as a gamer was basically outing one's self as a nerd, but if I could sneak the idea past Mom and Dad it might be fun. Then again, did it count as a real sport? That would make it off limits to me.
The chime of a found match interrupted my musings. And would you look at this? My opponent was named “FlashGordon”. I wondered who that could be? Did Gordo have something he may not want his football team friends to know? Or was I wrong and it was a different Gordon?
Whoever it was, I crushed him. Soundly. He played well but I snuck some invisible units into his base, attacked with some other troops, and used those to mask the real attack. It was oddly satisfying to see his rank slip downward; if it was Gordo, I'd know pretty quickly tomorrow.
There was a polite knock on my door, right as the coffee was failing me and I was getting ready for bed. “Sis, you awake?”
“What do you want, Ian?”
The door began to open. I lunged and shouldered it closed. I heard him stumble back. “That wasn't an invitation to come in, Ian, it was a question!”
“Oh, sorry.” He apologized, sounding a little confused.
Well, he could just be confused; I wasn't about to explain to Mom why Ian's first glimpse of an undressed girl was his sister. I'd already gotten that particular lecture, and I hadn't even done anything wrong! I'd been wearing a shirt! Bras were stupid, but apparently not optional.
So of course he asked. “Just what are you doing in there, sis?”
He knew the use of 'sis' rankled; he was doing it on purpose. “Dressing.”
“Oh.”
Sigh. “What do you want, Ian?”
“Is it safe to come in?”
It was; I had buttoned up my pajamas in record time. I levered myself off the door.
“Yes, it's safe.”
He opened the door a crack, and slid inside, facing the hall. He couldn't look more suspicious if he tried.
I asked for the third time. “What do you want, Ian?”
He hedged. “Well, I wanted to see if you would make me something.”
Right, of course, and judging by the looks of things, what he wanted was something Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of.
“What, exactly?”
“Well, Halloween is coming up, and I have my costume ready. I want to go as Megaman, but the arm gun the stores sell is, well, lame.”
I knew of it; it was made of cheap plastic and shot little foam balls. I clamped down tightly on my thoughts, stopping the influx of ideas and improvements I could glean from such a thing cold. “Go on.”
“Well, I was hoping you could help me out, and build a better one. One that was actually a laser – but not a damaging one or anything! Just harmless light.”
Hmm, maybe one that was a flashlight, with a large beam but light battery... our parents would hardly object to that, it would make Ian more safe, not less.
“Alright, I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises. You didn't leave me much time, after all.” I scowled at him, my face stern. Actually, two days was plenty of time for such a small thing, at least with a 3d printer, but he didn't need to know that. He was my brother, and I had to mess with him somehow.
His face fell a bit. “I know, I'm sorry. I was worried you'd just say no.”
“I admit I was tempted to,” I'd already built him a lot, after all. “Now get out please, I need sleep.”
“Alright, I'm gone!” He slid out the door again, then stuck his head back in. “Even if you don't get it done, thanks for trying.”
I waved him off irritably, and the door shut again. I climbed into bed, giving Jeeves my hardest look. “And you, I feel like you should be closer to the door to prevent such occurrences.”
“I knew it was Ian in the hallway, and I preferred not to risk causing him harm.”
Huh. Guess he had a point; Mom would dismantle him herself if he hurt one of us.
“Fine, whatever. Try and solve your grass issue before your down time. I'm going to sleep; turn out the light on your way out, please.”
He did. “Sleep well, Mistress Min.” He said softly before closing the door.
…..
I guess I did sleep well since I slept right past my alarm. I didn't understand it; I was doing everything right, eating well, exercising (mostly) well, keeping a schedule, and trying not to stress my brain (thinking too hard sounded stupid and inaccurate). Yet I still felt slow and scattered, with my thoughts taking too long to focus and my body barely reacting to my commands.
A look at the clock showed how late I was; it was 7:15! Where was Jeeves?
The door opened. “I am here Mistress Min, please do not panic.”
I eased myself upright using the headboard of my bed, eyeing his platter. It had coffee and some sort of pastry on it. I would have called it a doughnut, but nothing Jeeves made was ever so simple. “I am not panicking.”
The platter was set down on a tray, which was set over my legs. Clearly, I wasn't meant to get up.
“Please, Mistress Min, take your time. You were warned that even with the best care, mornings like this would happen. The school has already been alerted that you are likely to be late, and you may use the extra time to recover.”
So I could go to school when I wanted, huh?
“Mistress Min, if you skip classes in order to continue construction on your projects, I am to inform your mother.”
“Spoilsport.”
Hm, that implied Mom wasn't home. And how did Jeeves know what I was thinking, anyway? Was it that obvious?
Jeeves grinned at me, capturing my hands in his and steadying my coffee cup so I could drink. “Yes Mistress Min, it is obvious. And your Mother is still present, but will leave before eight-o-clock. She is currently enjoying breakfast downstairs.”
Well, at least she trusted Jeeves enough to stop looking over his shoulder whenever he did anything, finally. Acting like I didn't notice her conveniently being down the hall got old fast. At least she hadn't actually been eavesdropping.
I sipped coffee and reached for my laptop. Jeeves retrieved it for me. “Eat your scone please.”
“That is not a scone.” Jeeves had made scones for me before, and aside from being triangular, these things looked nothing like those.
“It is. Specifically, a pumpkin scone with cinnamon butter.”
“No way. How could you possibly make butter out of cinnamon? Isn't butter an oil?” Cinnamon wouldn't render into an oil, it was a tree bark.
“Eat your breakfast.”
I took a nibble. It was good. In fact, it was amazing. “Went for a festive touch today, huh? What do you have planned for lunch?”
“It will be a pleasant surprise, I assure you.”
So he wasn't telling; my revenge tonight would be sweet, and another slow morning wasn't going to stop me from seeing it.
Jeeves went to work on my feet, kneading them gently to improve the circulation while I nibbled and watched a video stream. Some time later Mom came in without knocking, just as Jeeves was working his way to my calves.
“Morning honey.”
“Morning Mom. And you're supposed to knock.”
She smirked. “Why, you could be doing something I wouldn't approve of?”
I felt my face heat, which was kind of a good sign for the anemia. “Mom! Don't be weird. It's just that I could be....” Wait, would it matter if I was undressing in front of Mom, anymore?
I decided to amend what I was going to say. “It's just that the rules should apply to everyone, and everyone else in the house has to knock. It's a privacy and respect thing.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You have a point, but if you're sick? Mornings like these happen often, and if you aren't responsive I'd be coming in anyway; you're my child.”
She had a point, in her own paranoid way. Maybe she didn't trust Jeeves as much as I thought after all. Or maybe she trusted me more; that would be nice.
Jeeves started working on my other calf. I began to feel warmer, which was a good sign. I continued to read; my patents had made the news, after a fashion. There was a report on Lockheed buying a new engine design that could start a “modest revolution”, and everyone wondering who had designed and developed it. True to his word, Shecky was keeping my name out of things, and so far no one had been able to find my actual patents regarding it.
Which, like rushing the approval process itself was either Shecky's or the government's doing, or maybe both. I was a bit suspicious about what the government wanted from me, but so far they hadn't asked for anything, and if my engine was going to be used for fighter jets (a good idea, in my opinion, the cut in fuel costs alone would be enormous) Lockheed would handle it.
It made me a little nervous to have the CIA watching me, and no government agency even asking me for anything. The spin in my head slowed.
“Alright, I think I feel well enough to shower.”
“Of course, Mistress Min.”
Jeeves helped me into the bathroom, and I could hear him take up position outside it. The warm water helped, and I took my time; either I'd get into trouble, or I wouldn't.
Jeeves stuck another pumpkin scone in my face as I exited. I chewed as I focused on the stairs – wouldn't do to take a fall. My wobble had all but vanished, and my head felt stable. A bit more coffee while Jeeves double checked and packed my bag and I was ready to go.
It was odd walking through the town after school started; the streets were empty. Even most of the commuters were gone, done with their commutes and settling in to work. In fact, the only people I spotted were my tails.
The quiet and birdsong was kind of nice, though, and the sun was just warm enough to feel through my lab coat and sweater. It might even be warm enough to shrug the coat off, later. Maybe I could convince the coach to let me go back outside during gym, just to sit and warm up in the sun.
Jeeves followed me into the school itself, hovering very close.
The halls were empty, of course. I turned towards my first class... and the bell rang. Jeeves steered me gently to a wall, and placed himself in front of me and braced against the wall with his arms, taking all the hits and bumps I would have taken. It was probably a good thing, so I fought down the flash of anger. I wasn't that fragile, and he knew it... he was just doing his job.
The crush passed, or at least lessened, and Jeeves removed his hands. I should be polite, at least.
“Thank you, Jeeves.”
“You're welcome, Mistress Min.”
He let me lead the way, and I picked a careful route, slowly weaving through the crowd. I made it to Mr. Mullins class with a good thirty seconds to spare and placed my homework on his desk; sure I was supposed to wait for class to start and just hand it in then, but I didn't feel like it. Mr. Mullins just took it without a word.
I sat down and Samantha was looming over me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Just felt a little bad this morning, I'm fine now.”
“Anemia?” She asked, holding eye contact.
“Yeah. Don't worry, we're still on for tonight.” I replied in kind. She nodded and moved back to her seat.
Which made room for Ricky, who almost fell over himself running over. “You okay Min?”
I made the sigh as loud as I could. “Yes, I am. Just had a little trouble this morning is all.”
Ricky actually sagged in relief; what was going on with him? I mean this was a step up from the stares and whispers everyone else was content with. “Good, that's good.”
Ralph slapped him on the back. “Sorry to break this up man, but you're kind of holding up the line.”
I looked, and there was a line of people waiting to get into their seats behind Ricky, most of them with more than a little impatience. It made sense; the bell was about to ring, after all. Ricky shot Ralph a look he normally reserved for Gordon, but moved.
Ralph sat, took one look at me, and said, “I heard.”
And that was enough.
Class passed uneventfully except for the moment when Mr. Mullins looked up from his glance at my homework; I did my best to pay attention and keep my mind from wandering. I succeeded with only a few random designs for drones popping into my head, using versions of my engine. A little big for drones, but they would be fast....
No! Bad Min, no mind wandering!
I thrust the ideas away, and when the bell rang I was steady, getting up and heading out with the rest of the class. I wasn't too concerned with noting the homework assignment, Jeeves had my back.
Walking into Geography class was more of the same, only with Maggie at my desk, chattering a mile a minute. “Oh my God Min are you okay? I heard you were out, and your Mom called the office but here you are! Sam said you looked a little pale, but you seem fine and....”
I had to interrupt her or she'd never sit down. “I am fine, it was just a small bout of my stupid anemia.”
She winced; all my friends, old and new, were used to the episodes I had by now. “Sorry.”
“Don't be, it's alright. And before you ask, yes, we're still on for tonight.”
She grinned and made a show of steepling her fingers. “Excellent.”
“I feel I should point out that you aren't a Bond villain.”
She scoffed. “That you know! Well, see you in a bit.”
As she passed by on her way to the back I noticed Gordon watching me; he looked a bit red faced. Maybe that had really been him last night? What were the odds? He tore his gaze away and faced front as the bell rang. Great, he was probably still mad too.
Geography was boring, no great surprise there. I wondered why people had the urge to name terrain and features of terrain random silly things, and it wasn't the first time. Sort of an idle 'who comes up with this stuff?' only for the world in general. And then of course, I idly wondered how many people wondered the same thing, which also wasn't the first time. Geography was just that boring.
Then Gym came around. I walked right up to Coach Howard. “I want to go outside.”
Coach sighed. “You know I can't let you do that unless I have someone to watch you, and I don't even have a teacher's aide this year.”
I had an answer for that this time, one I'd been waiting to use. “Jeeves can watch me; he supposed to anyway.”
Coach Howard looked behind me, to Jeeves, and sighed again. “It's supposed to be an actual school authority.”
“I'm pretty sure Jeeves can count, as a vouched for agent of my family. He's not going to let anything happen to me, after all, and I just want to sit down in the sun. I'm not going any farther than out the door.” I pointed. The gym was cold, I wanted my sun.
“Alright, fine, you can go. But stay within shouting distance of the door; if I look and don't see you....”
“Right, you'll tell my Mom and she'll kill me, I know.” I interrupted, already starting out.
“And where do you think you're going?”
I stopped. He'd just told me I could go! But looking back, it wasn't me he was talking to, it was Ralph.
“With her? Come on, one more isn't going to matter; Jeeves can watch us both.”
I looked at Jeeves, to find him looking at me. He didn't seem to care either way.
“Can you do that, Jeeves?” Coach Howard asked him directly. “Keep in mind if you agree and fail, you're putting your ability to come and go at this school with Min at risk.”
Jeeves actually appeared to consider it for a moment, visibly hesitating, at least for him. I had to signal him. “I agree to those terms, Coach Howard.”
It wasn't a big deal, I mean he watched four of us for lunch off school grounds as it was, and Ralph wasn't going to cause any trouble.
“Alright, go ahead then. I expect to see you back here, at least to check in before lunch. Got it?”
“I got it Coach, I'll be back for the bell.”
Jeeves beat me to the door, opening it in time for me to go through. He held it for Ralph too but managed to get ahead of me again, spreading a blanket on the inviting patch of lawn I was heading towards. I took the inferred invitation and lay down, right in the sun, eyes closed even after my glasses darkened.
I heard Ralph plop down beside me as I stretched out spread eagle with a sigh of pure bliss. That gym had been awfully cold.
Jeeves snagged a leg. “Jeeves, what are you doing?”
“Massage?”
“Not right now, thanks. I want warm, and while your hands are warm, they aren't sunlight.”
He placed my leg back where he found it, gently. I could feel Ralph smirking. None of it entered his voice, however.
“Yeah, this is a day for being lazy. Hopefully to be followed by a night of carefree partying.”
“That's the plan.” I agreed.
A few minutes passed in comfortable silence before Ralph broke it. “So, got your costume figured out?”
I smiled. “Yep, sure do. I had it figured out weeks ago in fact; it's all ready to go. So, did you procrastinate?”
“Oh, no, no,” He hastened to assure me. “just asking is all. My costume is...good, if I do say so myself.”
He didn't sound too sure about that. I guess I'd find out in a few hours.
Our comfortable silence continued.
Which meant that of course, Jeeves had to ruin it. “Please wake, Mistress Min.”
“I'm awake. Sheesh, I wasn't even asleep.” That was my story, and I was sticking to it. Where was I again? Oh right, in the yard outside the gym; I could still hear the last rings... the after-rings? What was it called when the bell has already rang yet you can still hear it? Whatever, I could still hear those in my ear.
“You were most definitely asleep, Mistress Min, and you promised Coach Howard that you would check back in before the bell signaling lunch.”
Ralph was looking at me with an apology in his eyes – I hope he didn't see anything weird. Like me asleep and rolling around; I tended to move. Though I hadn't been asleep, maybe it had looked like I was, and I didn't want him getting weird ideas.
I rubbed my eyes, getting reoriented, and realized my glasses were off. I found and slipped them on (I didn't remember taking them off) and Jeeves helped me up. Then he fell in behind me, which meant he wasn't setting up lunch. “Don't you have a lunch to get?”
Come to think of it, he'd been with me all day, which meant he hadn't been cooking. I didn't have any money for the cafeteria food, so what was I going to eat?
“Already taken care of, Mistress Min. Lunch will be waiting for you in the location you favor.”
“Why don't you just say the usual spot, Jeeves?” It was like he went out of his way to be as obtuse as possible.
“I did.” I looked back in time to see the lack of emotion on his face, which was odd; he was good enough to match word to emotion nearly perfectly. Was he trying to be funny?
I wish I could figure out how I managed to get him to understand humor. Well, if I had... his sense of humor wasn't exactly the best. If I could perfect that, I could make stupid amounts of money.
The contrast between outside and the gym was even more stark in the other direction; going back into the relatively dark and cold building was like splashing cold water on my face. I had to stop a second and let my glasses adjust, so I sidestepped. Ralph came in right behind me, and he didn't have any trouble at all; he kept walking.
My glasses lightened enough to see again, and I could make out Coach Howard standing in the middle of the gym, a basketball under one arm. Ralph was already talking to him; he met my gaze and I waved. He nodded, so I left.
As annoying as it was, I'd have to walk around and then go out the front door, since I knew Coach wouldn't want me to just walk back out the gym door. The halls were full, but most of the people were headed to the cafeteria, as always. Maybe even more than usual since today there were Halloween cupcakes offered; the cooks slaved over them every year, and while they weren't spectacular or anything, there was enough for every student to get one. That was a sort of cooking magic in itself.
There were usually extras since some kids refused to eat them or were allergic, even those had a tendency to vanish. Eaten by spooks no doubt – or the staff.
This time, rather than be blinded again I took my glasses off. Best anti-glare technology or not, I hated these things. I kept going while holding them up so they would adjust.
When I put them back on I nearly got ran over.
“Jeeves, just what is that?”
“A delivery truck, Mistress Min.”
It was indeed a truck. From one of my favorite fast food places, a local joint, Dan's Grill. A fast food place that had two locations, and did not deliver. But here was their battered old truck, and there was my customary table, tablecloth, candles, and all, with containers (normally used for takeout) of Dan's Grill food heaped on it. Dan, the owner, a bald heayset guy who just screamed 'grill cook' was even there in person. Wringing his hands, waiting for us with a pensive expression at odds with his character.
“How did you even manage this?” How had he gotten Dan to deliver anything?
“I called, of course, while you were sleeping.” Was Jeeves's reply; okay he was obviously screwing with me. Dan's eyes narrowed as we closed, breaking that nebulous boundary only someone who owned the setup Dan was currently using would cross, no doubt wondering if we were who he was waiting on.
Jeeves hastened ahead to pull out the chair I used, the one under the tree, and I sat, with my stupid glasses adjusting yet again. In front of me was a large of my favorite burger; a totally sloppy beef and cheddar. A double, no less, with bacon on top. Even the grease sitting on the bun must be giving Jeeves fits; what was he doing?
“Are you Minerva Campbell?” Dan asked, wiping his hands on his apron.
“Yes, sir, I am. I'm told this is for me?”
“Well, a catered lunch for a party of six, for Minerva Campbell, phoned in by one Jeeves Campbell?”
I hooked a thumb. “That's Jeeves.”
Dan shifted, taking all that was Jeeves in for the second time. I could see the moment when he dismissed me, switching to 'adult mode' to talk shop with Jeeves.
“There is the matter of the payment sir...”
Jeeves cocked his head. “Did the Debit card not clear?”
Dan shook his head emphatically. “No sir, it cleared! But it was a little too much, even for this.”
Jeeves waved him off. “You took a request for food on short notice and filled it. I can tell you got all the orders placed correct, and you drove to us and arrived ahead of the appointed time given. As far as I am concerned, the overage is a perfectly acceptable tip, and you are welcome to it.”
Dan looked conflicted, still partly anxious, yet relieved.
“Thank you, sir. Just be aware, I don't normally cater.”
Jeeves bowed. “I am aware, Dan of Dan's Grill. I appreciate you making the exception – and it will be an exception.”
“Yeah, right, okay... thank you for your business.” Dan got back into this truck with a dazed look; he waved at me pulling out.
I returned it. I could completely understand; Jeeves had that kind of effect on people, at least at first.
Wait... Ralph, Ricky, Sam, Maggie, and myself. That was five; who was the sixth meal for?
I turned to ask to find Jeeves opening one container on his lap. “What are you doing?”
He looked at me and smiled. “I am eating lunch, of course.”
His lunch looked exactly like mine, right down to the amount of salt I liked on my fries, and I doubted that was coincidence. Jeeves waited, watching me. He had actually tucked a napkin into his shirt to keep it clean; that was never going to work. Was he waiting on me to start?
Maggie arrived. “Hey Min, how are you feeling?”
“I'm okay. It was just a minor thing.”
Sam had a good grasp of the important: “What's all this?”
I shrugged. “Jeeves was busy watching me, so he called for takeout. Well, catering.”
“From Dan's Grill.” she stated.
“Yes.”
Maggie looked around as if seeing the spread for the first time, which she well might have been. “The greasiest greasy spoon in the county?”
“Hey, I happen to like it!” How dare they defame the best fast food to exist?!?
Maggie sat down at her usual spot and opened her container. “Of course you do; I never said it wasn't good. It's just criminally bad for you is all. He ordered for us too?”
“Well, you do eat with me.” I wasn't about to share mine either; if she didn't like what she got, she was just out of luck.
Maggie's food turned out to be a simple chicken sandwich, with fries. Sam was already picking at a garden fresh salad that was actually from a garden. I ate a fry, and that was what Jeeves was waiting for after all; He picked up his burger and took a bite.
“So, why is Jeeves eating?”
“Not sure.” He did have a small stomach but didn't actually use the food for fuel at all. I had a suspicion....
“I am sampling Mistress Min's sustenance, of course,” Jeeves replied loftily, confirming it.
“What, is that like poison tasting?” Maggie asked him, popping a fry in her mouth.
“Not quite, Maggie. If I were testing for poisons I would be sampling Mistress Min's order; I am instead sampling the order itself in order to recreate it at a later date.”
“So you're going to recreate Dan's Grill food?”
Jeeves nodded. “Whenever it should be convenient and healthy to do so.”
Ha. There was no way it would be the same.
We all ate, and I at least enjoyed the slight breeze; it ruffled my hair. I wanted more sun, but I'd had enough; I'd probably just get hot now.
Ricky and Ralph showed up together, just steps behind each other. Ricky had his favorite roast beef with fries and (and cheese to dunk the fries in) waiting for him, and Ralph had a bacon lettuce and tomato on toasted rye with dill pickle chips waiting for him.
Ricky just shrugged and took his seat, but Ralph stopped and looked at Jeeves. “How did you know?”
Jeeves just smiled, so I answered. “Jeeves has culinary powers. Among those is guessing what people's favorite foods are. So far he hasn't been wrong, even once.”
Ralph shrugged and sat. “Well he's right again, this is my favorite from Dan's. Not the weirdest power I've heard of.”
We ate in record time, fast food was easy to eat and we didn't need to worry about being messy. Well, none of us but Jeeves, who actually still looked spotless despite not having any room at the table. I cleaned my hands off while Jeeves started cleaning up; I wondered where he kept the table and chairs since he didn't have time to go all the way back home for them.
Then I decided I didn't really want to know.
“Come on, let's go for a walk before we have to go back to class!” Maggie said, grabbing Sam and all but grabbing me before starting off.
I shrugged. A walk sounded fine to me, I wasn't in any hurry to go back inside.
I caught up, Maggie was already forging ahead. A look to my right and Ralph was there, stuffing the last few of his chips in his mouth. Ricky was on my left, using a napkin to wipe his hands off.
“Come on! Let's see who's at the ball field!”
As it turned out, the ball field was on the dark and less sunny side of the school, so there were only a few kids hanging out there, and those were the self-styled social outcasts. Maggie led us all the way around the school, and then inside, checking out all the decorations and critiquing them.
She didn't like the orange and brown ones or the silly faced ghosts, but then again no one else did either. She'd helped put them up, and the story about how she fought with the teachers to leave those out was absolutely fascinating.
Then I noticed we had a tail. Gordon was behind us, making no real secret of being there. I had to distract Ricky; if Ricky saw him, he'd attack, and without back-up he'd lose. Probably badly. I couldn't really do much except send Jeeves in, and that would get both of us in trouble and Jeeves kicked off campus forever. He was following us without a doubt, hands jammed in his pockets and looking our way.
So, what to do about it? I could ignore him; I didn't have any classes left with him for the day, and it would be trivial to dodge him. But that just meant if he was following us for Ricky, Ricky would be isolated. No, the best thing to do would be to see what he wants.
Still I had to wait a bit, for Maggie to cross the track in order to talk to a few of her cheerleader friends, Sam already in tow and the two R's (that was a great name for them, come to think of it) dragging their heels a bit, but following.
“I just remembered something I forgot to check guys; go ahead without me, I'll catch up.”
Of course, hearing that, they all stopped in their tracks. “Everything okay?”
I waved them on. “Everything is fine. Just need to return a phone call I got earlier from a guy at Lockheed. They had some performance questions.”
I felt bad lying to them; it was a text, and I'd already answered it; but it was for greater good of stopping bullies, so it was justified. When the group moved on without me, I walked back around the corner with Jeeves on my heels. Sure enough, Gordon was waiting.
He looked nervous, almost like he was fighting throwing up. That was very odd for him; usually, the prospect of violence had him jumping around like an eagerly like a puppy or something. Not that I was afraid – Gordon would have to be very stupid to attack me, even if Jeeves wasn't there to intervene, and Gordon wasn't that stupid, no matter what Ricky believed.
“Hello, Gordon. Is there something you want to discuss?”
He fidgeted. Fidgeted! What was he so nervous about? It took me raising an eyebrow (Mom's trick with Dad, I think, though it seemed to have wider use than I first suspected) to get him to spill.
“That was you last night, wasn't it?”
“Yes, it was. I thought it was you Gordon... your online tag was clever, but not very anonymous.”
He snorted. “Neither is yours, really.”
That was fair. “What do you want, Gordon?”
He scuffed a foot in the grass. “Look, I wanted to say I'm sorry. Again, that is, and not have it look like the school made me this time. I really am sorry for what I did, attacking you when you came back to school. You're tiny, and it was wrong, dude or not. But yeah especially if not, and...”
Well, color me touched. Sort of. I held up a hand. “Stop. Just stop before you dig a hole you can't get out of. Apology accepted. I'll make this clear, though, and you can tell anyone who asks. I'm not a dude, not anymore. Apparently, it's a thing that can happen, though it's not common.”
Gordon shuddered and ran a hand through his hair. Had he actually combed it this morning? And that shirt... it was a dress shirt. Was it new? “Sucks to be you.”
Well on that we could agree. “It sure does. Don't worry about me telling the school you're a computer nerd. I won't, even if people cared.”
He chuckled, backing into the brick wall and holding it up. “Nah, I ain't worried about that. I just wanted things to be cool between us. So, you going to the Halloween thing tonight?”
“Yep, sure am; wouldn't miss it.”
His gaze sharpened. “Then I guess Pam and I will see you there. Bringing him?” He pointed at Jeeves, who had been remarkably silent this entire conversation.
I couldn't resist a smirk. “Of course, he's part of the costume. And yeah, we'll see you there. I won't act like I don't know you either.”
Gordon chuckled again. “Part of the costume, huh? Can't wait to see it then. It better not be one of those lame horse things.”
As if I could be so tacky.
Gordon levered himself off the wall, and his face turned serious. “Look, man, almost time for the bell, I gotta go, but there's something else you should know. Keep an eye on Pam, alright? She ain't your friend, and she's... well, she's mad about something. She's saying some mean crap about you. I just thought you should know.”
He waved while I reeled. Pam, of all people?
…...
Study hall was all about distractions. Doing my homework while ignoring Pam. Helping Maggie with her homework while ignoring Pam, and chatting with Sam while ignoring Pam... okay well maybe not that, Sam still tried to talk less than Jeeves did, but there was more than a little ignoring going on.
Still, I couldn't help notice that Pam was shooting me looks, rapid possibly spite-filled looks which were gone as soon as I noticed them.
“Maggie, Sam...” I whispered, not sure how to bring it up. “Does Pam hate me, or something?”
Face, meet palm. I don't think I could have been less smooth there.
My two friends shared a look, then scooted closer. Maggie started off, of course, whispering back. “Pam... well Pam has some issues.”
“Jealous.” Sam interjected, and Maggie gave a faint nod.
“Right. So yeah she's been saying some stupid things about you, off and on. Just stuff in the Gym locker room or at lunch. Nothing at all unusual for her, and nothing she hasn't done to other girls before, so don't worry about it. Sam and I have been handling it for you, and no one actually believes the things she says.”
But... Pam?!? Why? She seemed so nice, to everyone. No, I wasn't going to let it bother me. It really wasn't anything different than dealing with Gordon or the anti-mutant jerks on the basketball team every day.
Well, except Gordon was a pretty stand up guy.
Was that it? Was Pam anti-mutant? Or even a hero-groupie? After all, what else did Pam have to be jealous about? Heck if I could trade her my powers I would in a heartbeat; sure sometimes they were fun, but it wasn't worth all the time I spent sick.
“Anything I should know about?” I mean, I hadn't heard a peep. If it was bad, surely someone would tell me, right?
Maggie shook her head. “Nah, nothing out of the ordinary. Typical high school crap.”
Sam looked like she was going to say something, but a glance from Maggie and her mouth shut with an audible clack of teeth.
“Don't worry about it, we're handling it.” Maggie stated firmly. “Aren't we Sam?”
Sam nodded. But telling me not to worry just made me worry more. I still managed to get caught up, and get Maggie caught up before the bell rang. Sam didn't need any help from me.
The walk to English class was quick today, and soon I was handing in another paper. I already wanted more sunlight, and the lecture picking apart more Shakespeare was... well, Mrs. Holmes tried her best, but there was only so much one could take of him, great as he was. I couldn't wait until we started Steinbeck, and I was still a little confused how these lectures helped us conjugate verbs better. I was beginning to think Mrs. Holmes had missed her calling as a college professor of creative writing or something.
Just before I lost all hope of being able to stay awake anymore (And I'd just totally not slept a few hours ago!) the final bell rang, and were officially released from institutional confinement.
I waited until the initial crush passed, and got up. Sam and Maggie had also waited. The two R's (heh) were also nearby; Ricky was trying his best to look like he wasn't waiting on us or listening in, and Ralph was checking the hallway.
“So, meet up after we get ready?”
Well, this was new. “Meet where? The school?”
Maggie almost shouted. “Heck no! I'm not coming back here alone and waiting, we're all going to meet at your house. Our parents already know. After all, what's the point of owning a mad-sciency lab-shed if you don't use it for Halloween parties?”
It would take more time than we had left to point out all the flaws in her logic, so I settled for just rolling my eyes like Sam did. Even if Mom and Dad didn't know, they would be fine with it, since there was safety in numbers and all that. But it would be just like Mom to know, discuss it with everyone else, and leave me out of the loop.
“Alright, fine. I was going to run final checks on Crash, but I guess an extra day won't hurt.”
Maggie blew a raspberry at me, all but dragging me down the hall. “Please; it's not like you can't do both. Besides, you've been holding out on me. I want to see what this amazing costume idea of yours is.”
“Fine. See you at the lab.”
We all split up. It felt kind of odd walking home alone (or well with Jeeves, close enough). But I managed. At least I still had my two tails.
Home was quiet... too quiet. Mom was in the kitchen, making something. Jeeves was replaced for another night in the kitchen, it seemed. But it was for the best tonight since he wouldn't have the time to cook and I wouldn't be eating more than snacks here tonight anyway.
Speaking of snacks, there were Halloween themed cookies and candy in separate bowls, just sitting there. There were even popcorn balls! I snagged one and ignored Jeeves clearing his throat behind me; I'd eat one if I wanted.
“Min, don't spoil your dinner.”
“I took the ball out of my mouth so she wouldn't know. “Okay, Mom! It all looks good, though. Where is it all going?”
Mom turned around with a grin, catching me in the act. “To your lab of course. Silly.”
I popped the popcorn ball back in my mouth with a shrug. Two could play it that game; my next words were spoken with my mouth full, which always drives Moms wild. “Alright Mom, I'll grab it then. Well, Jeeves will. The gang is getting costumed up, and then they'll be here.”
She frowned and I got out while the getting was good, snagging the candy. Jeeves grabbed the rest without prompting.
“No experiments! Ian's going to be out back!”
I could deal with that; at least it seemed like Mom was getting more forgiving about having Ian in the lab; there may be hope for him on that front. I reached the door and the retinal scanner, input the code and waited impatiently, popcorn ball still lodged firmly between my teeth.
The door opened and I put down my mostly ill-gotten gains. We both set our bowls down on the main workbench. But it was time, now. I didn't want to re-open the lab, and it had a bathroom, so...
“Jeeves, go and retrieve the two black and orange striped garment bags in my closet. There should only be two of them.”
Jeeves left with a short “As you command, mistress.”
I plugged my computer in and started running my final checks on Crash; I could activate him anytime, but something was telling me to wait. So far I hadn't turned up anything wrong, but it was more the prospect of not just lifting the lid a little on Pandora's box, but kicking it off. Jeeves had been at least half mistake, after all – once people saw Crash, any questions about pulling a repeat would be answered.
But the timer on how powerful my power was was already ticking, wasn't it? At least some of what I'd done already was in the public domain. My address was well known, and if the mob wanted to beat a path to the door, clamoring for robots of their own, they could do so already.
It would be hard to tell them all no. Maybe I could buy and automate a factory? No, that was a terrible idea.
Jeeves returned, garment bags draped over an arm and a coffee and tea service in his other hand. I took the first – it was mine.
“Alright. You can change out here, I'm going into the bathroom to change.”
“Understood, mistress Min.”
Changing didn't take long at all. The pants, shirt, vest, and jacket were custom tailored to my sizes and fit perfectly, just like they had last week. The worst part was tying the canary yellow tie. A quick look in the mirror to make sure my hair wasn't caught in the jacket and I was done; dressed just like Jeeves had been a few moments ago, more or less.
I made the turn of the century striped suit with tails look pretty good if I did say so myself. I still had to wear my glasses or be blind, but I was now the servant. Which of course meant that Jeeves was now my other half.
“Jeeves are you all dressed?”
“I am, mistress, though I admit some difficulty in the jewelry.”
I opened the door to find Jeeves outside it, dressed in one of the dresses like he made for me upon his arrival, something advertised as goth-lolita at the Halloween costume site I'd gone to. It was custom tailored for him, like mine, but with a little padding up top hidden in the lace.
He probably made his costume look better than I could; somehow he was making it work, even with the heels off and earrings sliding off his ears. I had bought clip-ons, but that was looking to be a mistake.
I took the earrings from him, applied a dab of epoxy to each, and placed them carefully on each ear; I could always spray him later with the dissolving agent here in the lab or use a blow dryer. Neither method would hurt him.
A few finishing touches with makeup and Jeeves looked more feminine than I probably could on my best day. I fought down the wave of jealousy. Other people had gone through worse than I have to end up looking... well, like X-ray. So I had no right to complain, even in my own head.
Jeeves poured me more coffee. “Thank you Jeeves, but we are going to get into character a bit tonight. I'm going to be the butler at the party and get you drinks and stuff, and you are going to be the lady.”
He adjusted my tie, gently, and I had to fight down bad feelings again. “As you command, mistress Min. Tonight, at the party, you shall be butler Min and I shall be Lady Jeeves.”
Well, at least he was getting into it. This was going to be fun, I couldn't wait!
Maggie arrived first, in a Victorian era dress that looked like it might be an actual Victorian era dress; it was faded and even had a few stains. She also had a knife handle sticking out of her head with blood coming down from it, and a bloody mouth. She raised her arms as soon as I opened the door in response to the knock.
“I'm a hungry ghost, here to swallow your souls! And maybe your heart, I haven't decided... and HOLY CRAP MIN YOU LOOK INCREDIBLE!!!”
I had it, actual sound evidence than Maggie spoke before she thought. Well, or screamed, at least in this case.
“OH MY GAWD IS THAT JEEVES?!?!”Maggie screamed, striding over with a laugh and snagging a cookie along the way.
Jeeves gave her an obvious once over. “Good afternoon, Miss Johnson. A most effective costume.”
“You're one to talk.” She looked to her costume, then Jeeves again, and pouted. “That's just not fair; you look better in this sort of getup than I do.”
She turned to me. “Awesome idea Min, turning the tables like that!”
I bowed. “Thank you, Lady Johnson. I do but try.”
There was another knock, so I went to answer it. Outside was a ghost. And not just any ghost, but the stereotypical sheet ghost, with eyeholes cut out and everything. Under that sheet was a silhouette that matched Samantha's, and she was holding a pillowcase, weighed down with something. Something about that...
The light upstairs went on. “Samantha?”
She nodded.
“What's in the pillowcase?”
I could almost feel the ghost (ha ha) of a grin as she answered. “...A rock.”
That was an amazing costume idea, and I told her so. She preened as I opened the door wider and let her in.
“Samantha? That was your amazing last minute costume idea?” Maggie asked, coming over with a puzzled look.
“I got a rock.” Sam defended.
It took awhile for Maggie to get it. “Oh Sam, you should have said something, I could have gone as Peppermint Patty!”
“Now now, it's no fun if we all ignore the theme! Sam's portrayal of Charlie Brown fits, but what would the rest of our excuses be?” I had Sam's back; she wanted to be hidden, yet stand out. I think.
Evidently so did Ralph. I opened the door to his knock, only to find him dressed in a Japanese kimono thing and carrying a big honking plastic sword on his shoulder. His orange hair was teased up and he had a sneer on his face.
“What are you supposed to be, exactly? A haughty samurai?”
He strode in like he owned the place. “No, I'm Ichigo.”
I looked around. Everyone else seemed just as lost, though Sam muttered “Bleach.”
What did a cleaning product and reducing agent have to do with Halloween?
Ralph gave me a look. “Alright, later, I'm going to sit you in a chair and make you watch the show this character is from. No one should be that deprived.”
I shrugged. His character was from a show, all I needed to know. “And his name is... Ichigo?” Clearly Japanese, and probably violent, if the sword was any indication.
“Yep.” 'Ichigo' replied, snagging a cookie. His face brightened when he took a bite.
I went back to running my checksums on Crash, ignoring the way Jeeves shifted demurely as I passed. He was just getting into character – I hoped.
“You do realize you're out of theme, right Ralph?”
He drew himself up. “Not at all. This is exactly what the Japanese gentleman wore in the 1800's. So technically I'm in theme while being someone with my amazing hair.”
Oh, so that was his angle; I smirked. “Always about the hair with you, isn't it?”
He drew a hair through his neon locks. “You know it. Not many people are awesome enough to have hair this amazing.”
Maggie snickered, and Sam was shaking a little. I might have also snickered a bit.
Another knock on the door. I went back to answer it. The pirate on the other end of the door waved, then stopped and stared: “Hi Jee...wait, Min!?!? Holy shit you look ho...err amazing, right! Just simply amazing; great costume.”
This was even weirder than the samurai. “Wish I could say the same, Ricky. Pirates are kinda... well, not the theme. They aren't really gentleman or ladies, even if they were around for Victorian times.”
There had to have been Victorian pirates, I was sure. I just wasn't sure where. Barbary coast, maybe?
“Well, that's kind of the beauty of it! I'm clearly a high society party crasher!” Ricky said, puffing out his chest and twirling one of those single shot pistols...fake, of course.
Well, that did make a sort of sense. Ricky studied the rest of us, even as the others studied him. He snorted at Ralph's costume, and laughed openly at Sam's (but I wasn't sure if he was laughing at the quality of it or because he got it). Then he snagged a cookie.
“Cokes are in the mini-fridge, and as always, don't touch anything not in a container you recognize. Ian may be out here shortly, or he may not. I'm going to compile some code while we wait. Oh, Jeeves, can you set up the projector? We can put some horror movies on and watch them, my computer can do both.”
“Of course, Mistress Min.”
The projector was up in short order, the lights dimmed, and just as the movie about a batch of psychotic cursed dolls started, there as a knock on the door. Of course.
I opened it to find Ian, dressed normally of course since his fun began tomorrow, standing there. He stared (down) at me, mouth open for a good second, before the grin spread.
“Wow sis, looking good.”
I had to shush him when he caught sight of Jeeves, his laughter was deep, full-bellied, and totally ruined the atmosphere required for horror movie enjoyment. Kind of what I was going for, but also a little irritating.
“Ian, just sit down and watch the movie.” He shrugged, grabbed one of the folding chairs, and set it up behind the rest of us. He also snagged a cookie just before he sat down.
The movie was kind of okay; the dolls were well done, but clearly just puppets and I had to fight down the urge to design better while watching; it would be so easy! Of course, I wouldn't make mine homicidal, and while they wouldn't have the space for a full AI, a smart system that could fake it well enough would fit....
No, bad Min! No over-analyzing things and starting a fugue! I snagged a cookie.
It wasn't a long movie, it wrapped up with the young couple winning against the evil doll makers in plenty of time for us to make the party. There was more than a little stretching as we all rose and I hit the lights.
“Alright Ian, take a hike, I'm locking up.”
“But what about...”
“Now, Ian, it can wait. We need to go. You know Mom won't let you hang out in here.”
He pouted and snagged a cookie on his way out. I made sure everyone had everything, and then shoo'd them out and locked up.
The sun was just past setting, in that curious hour where there was still significant light from our nearest star, but no view of it. We all started walking, and I took my place behind Jeeves. For his part, Jeeves walked along almost daintily while holding his dress up, heels clicking, looking as if he'd been walking on heels all his life. It wasn't even remotely fair.
I'd offer my jacket, to be a gentleman, but it wouldn't fit him. Maybe later.
The air was crisp but not cold, with a hint of dry or decaying leaves. The walk as pleasant, even dodging some of the other kids who were also taking advantage of the nice night. Normally I'd ask for a ride, but I felt very safe with all the eyes still on me. Two cars tonight, and they weren't being all that secretive about it.
The school was even more decked out than before; the teachers must have been busy; there was now bunting on the outside, a fake graveyard, and zombies in Victorian dress shambling around, nodding politely and growling affably at students and passersby.
Mrs. Welch nodded to us as we walked past; she was stirring a large cauldron that looked to be made of iron, and not plastic. The thing must weigh a ton. “Great costumes everyone! Go on in!”
Good, she got Sam's. I think she was just being nice to Ricky, though.
The halls were festooned with fake cottony spider webs and plastic bats hanging around, and I could already hear the music, some sort of oldies rock...? That didn't really fit the theme, but I guess it was hard to pass up 'monster mash' and 'werewolves of London' for Vivaldi or whatever. I wasn't even sure you could dance to that stuff.
The gym had undergone quite the transformation since noon; it had all the bunting and hall decorations, along with large wire and paper spiders hanging out in all the corners on large cotton webs, a DJ booth where some guy I didn't recognize had a laptop hooked up to the schools sound system and was playing tunes, and a large set of tables that ran the entire back wall filled with snacks. Mostly healthy things, I noticed.
There were a few brave people already dancing on the floor, some badly, and a few teachers roaming around keeping an eye on things.
I turned to Jeeves and gave my best bow. “My lady Jeeves, do you desire refreshments?”
Jeeves actually pulled off a curtsy in response, pulling out her fan and snapping it open in a practiced looking gesture. “But of course, butler Min. A glass of punch, if you please.”
Showoff.
I marched over to get some punch... and who was there, but Pam and Gordon. Pam was dressed much the way that Maggie or Jeeves was, in a maroon and cream Victorian era dress. She had an elaborate braid hair style that added about six inches to her height and looked mildly dumb. Her makeup made her look older; which would be a good thing to learn, I think. She saw me and her face twisted, her lips pursing in distaste.
Gordon was dressed like a British officer from the 1700's. I could almost see him on horseback, in his red and white uniform, leading the charge against the awful colonials with drawn saber in one hand, pistol in the other, and the reins in his teeth. A bit of time to grow into it, and he might cut a dashing figure.
“Hello, Min. You look great. Great costume.” Pam's face pruned up even more in response to Gordon's statement, but she stayed silent.
“Thanks. We had to change to go in costume, so one of us had to be the butler.” I gave him a slight bow.
“Yes, it suits you Min.” And there came the snark; a bit delayed, but still present. Gordon frowned slightly and glanced at Pam.
I decided to take the 'compliment' at face value. “Thanks, Pam. You both look amazing as well. Coordinated costumes? A British soldier and lady?”
“A British soldier and his wife, actually,” came the prim response, and Pam sniffed and turned to Gordon. “Come, my loving husband, let us dance and leave the help to their mundane pursuits.” Gordon had to be dragged, but Pam seemed more than willing to do so.
“Uh, right. See you later, Min!” He gave a little wave; Pam was stronger than she let on.
I turned to go back to the group, punch in hand, only to find the group had come to me. Without missing a beat I presented the drink to 'Lady Jeeves'. “Your drink, Madam.”
He took it haughtily and sipped... then made a small face and handed it back. “It is much too sweet, servant. Dilute it with something, and then serve it to me again.”
What did he think this was, some kind of wine tasting? They had probably mixed the punch in a bathtub or something. I went back to the table, and Sam ghosted (heh) along behind me. Now, what could I use... oh! Ice!
“You're going to find it difficult to eat and drink in that costume, Sam.” Though come to think of it, hadn't she chowed down on cookies and soda before we left?
“Thought of that.”
Okay, now I was curious. “Oh? What's your plan?”
Sam lifted her sheet a little to show blocky brown shoes – Charlie Brown shoes. She lifted it a bit more to reveal bright yellow socks. My eyes widened; that was actually brilliant.
“Okay, I get it. I know I said it before, but amazing costume.”
Sam paused in the act of carefully filling cups of punch for almost a full second before replying.“Thank you.”
Really she didn't need to act so surprised. I carefully placed the smallest ice cubes I could find into both the drinks in my own care, and avoided any splashes. When we arrived, I presented my drink to 'Lady Jeeves' again, and this time she took a sip and claimed it acceptable. Sam handed out her extra drink to Maggie, who was already chattering away to Aletha Rivers, our resident hockey expert. I wasn't really sure we needed a self-appointed hockey expert, but we had one.
At least they weren't actually talking hockey; they were gossiping about whose costumes would win the costume competition, and whose were the worst. Brad Sadler had that honor, in his clearly non-Victorian twenties gangster suit. He even had a plastic gun, something he could get banned for in the daytime. At least he didn't look bad in it, chatting next to Jodi Hess in her dress.
Ricky and Ralph got their own punch, chatting all the while. I sipped my own, it was watery.
And that was the problem with these events like this, in the end. There wasn't much to do except sip watery punch, eat bad snacks, and talk about school stuff... or dance. The very idea of dancing was shudder worthy; I didn't really know how, and just a glance at the people brave enough to be on the floor convinced me that they didn't either.
“Come, servant Min. I would dance.” Urk. Jeeves looked at me expectantly, hand artfully outstretched.
What else could I do? I was the servant for now; I took it.
He led me to the dance floor, and drew me close, leaning down. “Watch me.” He whispered, and proceeded to lead me through a dance... the box step? We were forming a box with our steps, anyway. It wasn't slow, either; we were keeping up with the music. Jeeves adjusted us, showing me where my hands were supposed to go, leading the way. I just focused on not tripping.
Thankfully I didn't. When the song ended, we went back to out staked out patch of floor; Maggie was talking to several more people now, chatting idly about the latest English assignment while watching me, a twinkle in her eye. Once we got in range, she stepped out.
“Lady Jeeves, would you honor me with a dance?”
“Why of course, Lady Margaret; I'd be delighted.” They stepped out together, and were soon dancing the way we had; I couldn't tell if they were talking, but knowing Maggie it seemed likely.
Sam inched closer to me... just ahead of everyone else, who was much more obvious about it.
“Love the costume Min!”
“Where did you even get it? And a matching one for Jeeves?!?”
“Will Jeeves dance with anyone who asks?”
It was almost like the inquisition a month ago. “Thanks, and I ordered both costumes online, then customized them myself, to ensure they'd fit, and I'm sure if you ask him, Jodi he'll dance with you.”
“Wait, you actually sewed your costume?” Aletha asked in disbelief.
She was right not to believe that conclusion. “Heck no! I simply had nanites do it. See you scan the clothes first, to provide a map, then you calculate the....” Wait, bad idea “Nevermind. Suffice it to say I made machines to sew little alterations for me, though most of the work was done by the place I ordered from.”
“Sounds expensive.” Nancy Ringus half asked with a disapproving frown on her pinched face. She kind of looked like a pissed off librarian dressing up in her costume, which was made of polyester, with frayed ends showing.
“It was, a little. But revenge knows no price!” I looked pointedly at Jeeves to prove my point, only to find him looking back at me while whirling Maggie around the dance floor with reckless abandon.
She seemed to be having fun, at least; judging from the smile and whooping noises she was making.
Sam backed me up. “Revenge!”
Nancy gave a weak grin and asked. “Isn't that a quote from somewhere?”
I shrugged. “Probably,” I admitted. “But if so I don't know where it's from.”
“Right, not really important. What is important, is what you think about the English assignment Mrs. Holmes gave out for Monday.”
“The reading assignment? It wasn't that bad.”
“Wasn't that bad?!?! It was a reading assignment, for a full chapter! With a worksheet, on the weekend!”
I shrugged again. Jeeves had stopped watching me and was now attempting to guide Maggie away from other people with limited success. Maggie, for her part, was giggling like a loon. She looked to be steering into people on purpose. “I don't know, I already have mine done. Managed it in study hall.”
Aletha pulled a face. “Ugh, mutant hacks. Wish I could speed read too! I'd get so much done!”
I turned to face Aletha, even as her face fell a bit. Did she think I'd be mad for bringing up what I could do? I wasn't; I just grinned at her. “Not as much as you might think. Sure I manage the assignments, but then there's all the mad science!”
I gave the crowd my best mad scientist cackle, and it got silent. Everyone just stared at me for a second with pitying looks before Sam summed it up. “Bad.”
Maggie and Jeeves came back, their dance over. “I've got to agree. That was the worst mad laugh I've ever heard.”
Bull! “Oh come on, I'm an actual mad scientist that designs robots! That cackle is as genuine as it gets!”
Sam shook her head. “Pissy.”
What?!? “I am NOT just pissy! I'm actually mad! I'll show you, I'll show you all! You won't mock me when this place is buried in killbots!”
They all stared at me again, except for Jodi, who was trying her best to drag a completely unflappable Jeeves out onto the dance floor at a pace he didn't want to go.
Sam patted me on the back. Darn it, none of them believed me, and I couldn't keep the joke going, or security would be called. I stopped fighting the smile.
“Fine, you got me. A round of bad punch for all!” I didn't say 'on me' because knowing my luck someone would actually douse me in the stuff – it's happened before!
Ralph stepped up, actually managing to stifle his laughter. “Butler Min, would you like to dance?”
Uh... didn't he just see me fumbling around with Jeeves earlier?
Amidst cries of “Woo, go for it Min!” and other assorted cheers, I allowed myself to be led onto the section of floor marked for dancing again.
One last protest, to save his toes. “I really don't know how to dance, you know. Jeeves showed me the box step, at least I think that's what it was, earlier. Before that I've never danced before.”
Ralph smiled winningly. “It's fine. I saw you earlier, you looked like you had it down... you looked graceful. Besides, you only weigh like 80 pounds; you can stomp on my feet all day without hurting me.”
Okay, that was bullcrap. “I'm 100 pounds, thank you very much.”
He waved that off as we started. He followed the steps as if he knew how. “Yeah, yeah. Min Campbell, the only girl likely to inflate her weight in all of Paris County.”
I smacked him, lightly. I hadn't inflated it by that much, and there was such a thing as too skinny. I wasn't sure if I was there or not, but I was pretty sure I was close. Maybe right on the line. I focused on trying not step on people, and managed not to make a complete fool of myself.
Then Ricky wanted a turn. He looked angry.
“What's wrong with you?” I asked as we started off to the next song. He was a bit more sloppy at following the steps than Ralph.
After that the evening passed, the way such evenings were wont to do. Boring and pointless, really, for all that it had it's moments, those flashes of fun. I just couldn't escape the fact that there were better uses of my time, and I think as the night wore on, people were beginning to notice. At least the number of guys and girls asking me to show them how to dance tapered off pretty quickly, and it wasn't my breath.
At one point I turned around from another self-appointed round at the refreshment table to find Gordon watching me, with Pam nowhere nearby. Even worrying about Pam and the many things she's done to mess with me would be a better use of my time. It suddenly struck me that I'd been ignoring a lot of crap from her, simply because I had no idea how to handle it or what her problem is.
Maybe the party was a better use of my time after all, at least in regards to that one problem.
Gordon took one look at me, indecision clear on his face, then simply turned around and walked off, towards the back and the restrooms. I kind of wanted to know what he wanted now, but I wasn't going to follow him back there. I doubted he'd ambush me again, but that didn't mean others couldn't.
Whatever, the part still had an hour left to go, but I wanted out now. This was more than a little lame, and more than a little awkward. Not to mention I was getting a little tired of Jeeves's 'get me this, fetch me that' routine; I wasn't even that fussy with him, ever.
“Well, I'm ready to leave. I know we've got some time yet, but this is kinda boring now.”
Maggie looked up from her phone; she'd been texting back and forth with someone for the last 5 minutes. “Yeah, I'm ready to go.”
I looked at Sam, and she nodded. Jeeves was ready to go whenever I was, despite his current act. Ralph and Ricky were both close together, heads down, conspiring about something; I walked over. I wasn't the only one with the leave idea; the crowd had thinned out enough to notice already.
“Hey, you guys ready to go, or are you going to stay a bit?”
They looked at each other, then at me, then straightened up. “Yeah, we're good to go.” they chimed in unison.
Creepy. That was more than a little creepy.
We grouped up and hit the door out, into the now cold air, Sam of all people in the lead. Jeeves was sticking close to me now – I think he sensed how tired I was. I wasn't too bad yet, but I was getting worse fast. No one else seemed to notice, at least, chattering away on how bad the DJ was, now that he was out of hearing range.
“Hey, Min... Can I stay the night at your place? In your lab?” Maggie asked, eyes artificially wide.
“Stop that. And if your parents don't mind, I don't think mine will. But what brought this on?”
“Well...” Maggie fidgeted, with a glance at the boys. “You haven't had a proper sleepover, ever. And Sam and I are free, Sam's parent's are even out of town, so we can have one now! And I asked my parents already, they said yes.” She held her phone up in front of me, the text from her Mom clearly visible, and I had to stop to avoid crashing.
Sam smacked her in the arm.
“Right, sorry Min, shouldn't have done that.” Maggie apologized.
I whipped out my phone. “Well, I'm not sure we have the space for two guests. Aren't sleepovers done in bedrooms and stuff?”
Sam and Maggie looked at each other. “They don't have to be, Maggie answered. We were thinking your lab. It's got enough space for all of us, and you sleep out there half the time anyway.”
I had to concede the point. “True. I'll ask.”
Mom picked up right on the second ring, as if she'd been expecting it. “Hey Mom, is it alright if Sam and Maggie sleep over? Out in my lab, that is? They want to hang out and watch more movies.”
“Sure, that's fine, provided they don't touch anything and you don't build anything new, at the last minute.”
Well, that was fair enough, that was what the rules were anyway. No spur of the moment death rays and the like. “Sure. I'll be sure to tell them.” I hung up.
“Mom says it's fine, just so long as you don't touch anything and we don't make anything on a whim.”
“Excellent!” Maggie exclaimed, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “Jeeves, would you mind getting whatever bedding we may need together, along with some coffee and stuff?”
Jeeves looked to me as Maggie pulled me close, forcing me to lean on her. I nodded, and he left in a hurry with a rapid “Be well, mistress Min, heels clacking down the sidewalk and dress hiked up to run. I really needed to finish Crash; Jeeves needed some help.
The two R's both closed in alongside us, no longer bringing up the rear. “Can we come?”
I stared, aghast. “Mom would murder me.”
Maggie sniffed. “Of course you can't come, boys aren't allowed at sleepovers. It's an ironclad rule.”
“But we don't have to stay the night. Just for another movie or two. Come on, I want to watch more horror movies too.” Ralph countered.
That made sense to me. “Well, if they aren't sleeping over, I don't think it'll be a problem.” Mom liked them both, after all.
The stuff was waiting on us at the lab door; two air mattresses, assorted blankets and pillows. Jeeves was next to it, thankfully still dressed in costume, but with a completely jarring serving tray in hand. Sam grabbed a mattress, and after a second, Maggie did too.
I opened the door and went through, making a beeline for the workbench. Well, when had that happened? The bowl was empty! “Hey, who ate all the cookies?”
My brother was still amazing.
He was a she now, and smaller. She made Mom look like a Norse goddess and Holly Brightner down the street look butch. Her health was beyond frail, and she seemed to be constantly distracted by things. She got her way entirely too often, and for no good reason.
But she still remembered me and looked out for me. First with an upgraded computer than beat everything on the market, and then going to bat for me with Mom, letting me stay involved with the cool stuff she was doing - purely at my own choice. And then she did stuff like this.
I looked up from the Megaman flashlight arm, which was capable of more than just firing light capable of signaling planes with, and just knew the last trick or treat outing I'd have was going to be special. It even matched the suit perfectly!
My sister's face was a little tense - a little fearful. "It's perfect, sis."
She smiled, and her face - well it made the light coming from the arm she made look dim.
"Min, Ian... come here please."
Sis's head whipped around so fast her hair hung suspended for a moment before gravity did it's thing. I didn't blame her, I was sure I was just as fast. But we hadn't done anything wrong, we had followed the rules: I had stayed outside while Sis had done her thing in her lab, and she hadn't even let me inside once she finished; she had brought the arm out and we were testing it in the backyard.
I decided to test the waters. "Mom, did you see this yet? Look at what Min made for me!"
Mom smiled as I showed the arm off. First the flashlight, and then the strobe effect. The third function I left out; Mom didn't need to know about it.
"It does something else too, doesn't it?"
Or she could know already. I was careful not to shoot a glance at Sis. I flicked the inner switch and the strobe and siren went off together; I was fine with the visor, but the noise was ear-splitting; I flicked the switch again in a hurry.
Mom and Sis stopped wincing and shared a look. "Yes, that should do it. Good job, Min."
So it wasn't that. Why did she call us both over?
"So... I know I'm supposed to take Ian trick or treating, but something has come up, and your dad and I have to go. Min, can you take him?"
This was news to me; I was old enough to go by myself. Well, with my friends anyway; I'd done that last year with no problems.
Sis visibly wavered; she had bags under her eyes from lack of sleep and a slight tremor in her hands that I don't even think she noticed. It was obvious she was tired, and looking forward to sleep.
I opened my mouth but she beat me to the punch. "Yeah Mom, I'll take him. But I want to hear about it later, okay?"
Mom's smile was sickly and I knew neither of us would be hearing more than some lame excuse regarding one of Dad's military buddies or something. Or maybe that super nerd Mom knew.
"Sure, I'll tell you both, but I just don't have the time now. Ian's friends should start arriving soon, so I need you in the house."
Sis gave a longing look to her lab, but she nodded and set off. I hurried up to avoid being left behind; if I didn't stay close I'd probably miss the point where Mom added a lame curfew or something.
"Six to eight, Min, and only six to eight." And, there it was.
"Alright, Mom." Sis agreed.
Mom headed right for the car with a wave; Dad was already inside it and the engine was running. We both waved as they backed out, fixed grins on our faces.
When they were gone Sis slumped. "Sorry."
I didn't get it. "It's not your fault."
"Actually I think it might be." she whispered.
I could see it now; it didn't happen often here, but mutants and the families of mutants were sometimes hated and singled out. The news was full of crap like that, and we hadn't really been able to hide anything before. Not that we were the type. Still, I was big enough to take care of myself.
"What about just sending Jeeves?"
Sis shook her head. "Jeeves won't leave me alone. Not right now, not even if I ordered him, and Mom won't let you go alone, so I'm stuck."
She must really be bad off then.
She straightened up and squared her shoulders, marching through the door. "Well, nothing for it. go get ready. Jeeves, make us some coffee, would you please?"
I followed, going upstairs as she went into the kitchen, doing something on her phone.
No complaints and no hesitation at all. She would do what she would do; that was my Sis. Different, and yet the same. Somehow.
I finished getting ready; the arm fit seamlessly with the rest of the costume. The doorbell rang as soon as I finished, and it was time to race back downstairs before any embarrassing stories got out.
Thankfully Jeeves had answered the door, but Rey was inside and heading toward the kitchen. Rey's costume was a little bland; a stereotypical vampire, typical of the lack of care Rey had. The only personal touches were the afro wig he'd donned for it and the gold jewelry. This was to show the costume was blacksploitation Dracula, he said. We had all bet him he wouldn't have the guts to go through with it. He had made bank in sodas tonight.
"Hey, Rey."
"Hey."
My sister came out of the kitchen bearing coffee, turning bleary eyes Rey's way. Jeeves placed himself within range to stop something, should something happen. He was subtle about it at least.
Sis took one look at Rey and gave her verdict with a raised eyebrow. "Cute."
Now I knew that she meant the costume right off, but judging by the blush and stammer Rey didn't. I didn't even know he could blush; the color he turned was kind of cool.
"H-hey um, Min. "Good evening." His accent on the last bit was just terrible.
"Good evening Rey. Don't mind me, I'm just going to be over here, staying awake."
Rey had already focused on my costume arm and so didn't hear, but I did. No doubt she wanted to sack out on the couch while I answered the door, but it offered some privacy. Technically answering the door was her job, though, since she was supposed to be preventing me from getting kidnapped or whatever. Mom was paranoid, not that I'd tell her that.
"Man, that thing looks cool." Rey drooled, snapping me out of the unpleasant images of Mom on the warpath.
I tapped it. "Yeah, it's a flashlight too. Nothing like those foam ball spewing versions."
"Can I see it?"
I shrugged it off, and he tried.
"It was made for my arm, specifically. It's not surprising it won't fit you."
Rey frowned. "It's pretty tight in there, for a bulky as it is."
"The outside bulk is to make it look authentic. Well, that and it does do stuff, so it has batteries."
"Like what? More than just a flashlight?"
Sis spoke up, proving she was listening over the TV. "Not in the house."
"I wasn't going to, Sis. You don't need to worry," I mean jeez, I wasn't a kid anymore. "Anyway, it does this light show panic button thing, in case we're attacked or something."
"Might come in handy," Rey said, trying to undersell it, but he knew we were likely to have trouble tonight.
My sis was awesome, but there were problems with being awesome.
The doorbell rang again. I answered it before Jeeves could because Jeeves was Jeeves... but Jeeves didn't seem to be in a hurry at the moment.
Kevin was at the door.
Kevin Price was the great amigo; the tanto to my lone ranger, the Sundance to my Butch Cassidy. He was the greatest bud in the history of buds; we did everything together. Which was why he was Protoman. Just like Rey had, his eyes first clapped onto the costume arm.
"Dude, that thing looks awesome! You can tell it ain't cheap plastic!"
"I know, right! Sorry man, there just wasn't enough time to make you one." I did remember Kevin, but with only a day left, and knowing everything Sis had to do to make this arm (including taking measurements of my own arm and shoulder, oddly enough, since it only went up to my elbow) there was only enough time for one of us.
Seeing what it cost her only made me more sure in my decision.
Kevin shrugged it off with a wink. "All good man, I don't mind. I made my own devisor arm."
He had hollowed his matching arm out and glued a flashlight into his, then repainted it. Great minds think alike, kinda.
That was the reason we'd originally chosen these costumes, actually; carrying around flashlights as a ghost or devil was lame.
Then Kevin caught sight of Sis, scrutinizing his work from the couch. He turned pink and hid both hands behind his back. Sis pronounced her verdict with a sniff and went back to her phone; Kevin waited until she was good and distracted before he stage whispered.
"Dude, I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again, but your sister is hot. Insanely, stupidly hot."
I rolled my eyes. "And I'll tell you what I told you before; don't be gross, that's my sister. And you're twelve and in middle school, you've got no chance."
He sighed melodramatically. "I know, but a boy can dream."
How quickly Kevin forgot that my Sis used to be bigger, and give us both the most brutal of noogies for 'being too loud' when gaming. Gaming isn't exactly all that loud an activity.
Okay, so we might have yelled a little; we were losing. My head still ached from the memory alone.
Kevin turned to Sis. "So, what are you doing for Halloween?"
Jeeves snagged her coffee cup and went to refill it as she sighed. "Well I was going to watch bad horror movies and sleep, not necessarily in that order, but instead I've got to watch you runts as you threaten adults for candy."
"What? We don't need no stinking babysitter!"
"Well, you've got one. It's not like Mom was going to let you all go out without an adult present anyway."
"As if you're an adult." I pointed out. She wasn't that much older than we were... and I had my doubts on whether she was any more mature.
"Closer than you, Ian. Unfortunately."
"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!" Rey stated, knowing full well what, or rather who, we were waiting for. Jeeves slid past us again with fresh coffee, this time an entire service of it. He probably already had a filled thermos of it somewhere, too.
"We've got one more coming Rey, you know that."
Rey and Malcolm did not get along all that well. I still hadn't figured out why; it wasn't like Malcolm was a jerk or anything, at worst he was a little quiet, and a whole lot of socially awkward. He did little things like make us wait rather than arrive on time; he was almost ten minutes late right now, and he lived just one street and a few blocks over.
Wait, I could maybe get some more blackmail material here. "Hey, Sis. You know, since you're coming with us, you should dress up too. Mom was going to."
"Yeah, no. I don't have a costume, and there's no time to make one."
"What about the one you wore last night?" She'd had a pretty killer costume for the dance.
Sis shot a glance at her robotic butler. "That one requires Jeeves to be dressed as well to be effective, and I'm not going to have Jeeves do that; it makes him act weird."
Weird how? I doubt she'd tell me. "Then what about Mom's?"
Sis gave me her 'are you serious?' look. "No way that will fit me... and even if it did I don't think Mom would be happy about me going out in her Catwoman costume."
True, Mom was an amazon compared to Sis... and Mom would not be happy; it was one thing to play off being the hot Mom and embarrass your son, but quite another to see your daughter doing it. Probably; Mom didn't make a lot of sense to me in the best of times.
She was beginning to make sense to Sis, though, I think, which was a little scary.
"So I'm afraid you're just going to have to deal with me in normal clothes."
Normal clothes for Sis included her lab coat, so we could probably pass her off as a mad scientist or something. Minerva, the slightly pissed genius of Madison, Wisconsin! I'd never been to Madison, but the name rhymed; kind of. I wonder what it was like?
My sister's eyes narrowed and her face changed into an expression I usually saw on Mom when she thought I'd broken something. "What are you laughing about?"
I feigned innocence as best I could but decided not to lie. "Your wardrobe, Sis. It's awful."
She looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. Then made a point of looking down at my costume. "I think I'll trust my own fashion sense, thanks."
"You wound me."
"Not yet, don't tempt me." Jeeves topped off her cup. Not for the first time, I wondered what else might be in that coffee. It tasted fine when I tried it, but the way Sis perked up after drinking it wasn't natural. I'd not caught Jeeves tossing anything extra in but sugar and cream; none of us had, and I'd even tested those myself, but something about it was odd.
None of us had been poisoned yet, so that was a plus.
The doorbell rang again, and as expected, Malcolm was on the other side of it. He was dressed up in the Megaman theme at least, so he had that much on Rey... but rather than being dressed up as one of the good guys, he was dressed up as one of the boss enemies, drill man.
I had to ask. "Why drill man?"
Malcolm grinned. "Two reasons; one, the large stomach fits me best since I can add my loot to it. and two...." He held up the drill arm, and I could hear a motor start. The drill slowly turned.
"Showoff." Kevin declared, shining his light in Malcolm's face.
Malcolm shaded his eyes good-naturedly.
Inspiration struck. "Hey, Sis. You could always find a white wig and go as Dr. Wily - you have the face for it."
"Ha, Ha," She deadpanned, grinning. "Darn, no wig like that around. Guess I'll just have to be me."
"Well, we're ready when you are then, mighty Dr. Campbell."
"Wait, your sister is coming Ian? Why?" Malcolm asked. He also tended to be a little slow on the update.
"Apparently Mom decided we needed adult supervision, but then something came up and Min got the nod."
"Man, that's bullsh- er crap. We can totally handle ourselves."
"Couldn't agree more," Sis agreed with a sigh. "But you try telling my Mom that."
Malcolm nodded knowingly; my Mom wasn't someone you said no to.
"Right, let's go." Sis put her phone away, but made Jeeves help her off the couch. I noticed something in the kitchen as she fumbled her coat on; a certain pair of glasses. I grabbed them, just in case.
I let Protoman lead the way.
Once outside it was clear that we were fashionably late; there were kids everywhere, running around in costumes ranging from the sad to the amazing, though nothing that seemed to hit both like Sis's friend Sam had last night. Which reminded me, I needed to ask what went on last night and whether Sis had gotten any awesome pictures; Sam was pretty hot, and I wanted to know if the rumored pillow fights and nail painting was an actual thing.
Sis DID have her nails painted, to match her hair. I couldn't remember if that was a new thing or not. I could probably ask Kevin if the idea that he'd know didn't creep me out.
All along the street in the fading light porch lights were on, and the smaller kids were racing from house to house yelling, shouting, and basically getting underfoot. A group of six-year-olds almost took us out as we grouped up on the sidewalk, a very harassed looking Mr. Henderson puffing after them.
At least he wasn't wasting his breath shouting at them. He wasn't in the best shape, and he needed it.
"So what's the plan?" Kevin asked.
"The route plan hasn't changed. We start at the end of the block and wrap around. We don't grid out until we hit Elm, then we go down the one side, and up the other until we end up at the end of Sycamore."
If we went quickly, we could cover almost three-fourths of the town in two hours. An ambitious plan, but one that previous generations had managed in nights that still lived in infamy.
"What about tricking?" Oh, my God Malcolm, a spy for the adults was right here, why would you say something like that?
I looked at Sis, who had her eyebrows raised and that disapproving frown she stole from Mom. "Maybe later Malcolm. We certainly don't have time for it right now, even if we had plans for that sort of thing."
Mr. Sotes and old man Kover sprung to mind; Mr. Sotes because he was probably the worst teacher in the entirety of Paris school, and old man Kover because he was old man Kover, but what was important here was plausible deniability.
I sincerely hope Sis hadn't seen the inside of my candy bag.
"Lead on, I'm just here for the ride. But if you run too far ahead or try to lose me or something, I will 100% tell Mom." She told me.
In response, I held her glasses out. She tended to forget them still, and she couldn't see at a distance without them anymore. Jeeves usually had them on hand or at least spares, but he hadn't said anything this time.
Sis took them and put them on with a muttered thanks.
"No problem. No sense making this harder on you, right guys?"
There were muttered yeses and some grumbling, but I knew they'd follow through.
"Watch for cars," Sis said as we started off, moving at a good pace but not a rushed one. I turned because traffic was light and she was pointing out the sedan that had shadowed her for the last few months.
She wanted me to know where help was if we needed it. Was she really that worried? She was actually worried. like Mom's thinking had infected hers, or something. This was Paris, nothing was going to happen here.
This sedan was that MCO guy. I didn't trust him; I'd read the internet forums in the gray spaces most authorities didn't know about. So far he hadn't done anything, but I had the feeling that was because the suits were keeping an eye on him; recent posts regarding our town did have rumors of an MCO hit squad being stationed close by... but didn't say exactly where. I was keeping an open mind, though.
We went to the first house, and that was where our luck ran out. "Ian, wait up!"
I was kind of hoping we'd have more time!
I turned to see Holly Brightner racing across the sidewalk, tossing kids aside like a junior linebacker on her way to sack the quarterback. She was dressed as Roll, which was about as far away from her personality as you could get. If someone told her to sweep a floor she'd probably put them in the hospital with the broom; and for some reason, she had invited herself along. That was something she was doing a lot of lately.
But Rey stopped, and Malcolm stopped, and then Kevin stopped, so I couldn't pretend I didn't hear.
"Good evening, Holly. How goes your Halloween?"
She started right in, managing to pull off a scowl and glower without breath."I thought I told you to wait for me! I told you I'd be late!"
She had. Not only had she called me, but she had messaged me online too. "To be fair, I did tell you we weren't waiting. I also told you we were going to do a guy only thing tonight."
Holly immediately turned to Sis, pointing. "She's not a guy."
"She doesn't count!" Oh, shit. That just slipped out, and it could be taken so wrong.... damage control, damage control!
"I mean, she's keeping an eye on us. My mom talked to our parents, and then left and stuck her with the job. So technically she's here to make sure we don't riot in the streets and set fire to cars and stuff, or worse, become protestors."
Sis gave me an eyebrow, but let it pass. Whew.
Holly, on the other hand, smelled blood in the water. "And one of the parent's contacted was my Mom, so here I am, ready to be watched."
I knew I was sunk when Min said. "Fine, just watch for cars when you cross the street and try not to bodycheck any more toddlers."
At least Holly blushed at the dig. She hadn't actually knocked over any little kids, but it had been a close thing.
We started off, with Holly grabbing my arm as we crossed the street, jaywalking like the rest of the horde nearby. we started on the right side, the houses and neighbors blurring for the most part.
There were a few exceptions.
Mr. Normand doled out candy and complimented us on our costumes, but spent all of his time staring at my sister, who was standing well behind us, tapping a foot... and not at her face. I resolved some of the T.P. I had in reserve (I'd painted it pink by dipping it in food coloring) was going in the huge maple in his front yard. There was no easy way to climb that thing, and anything thrown up there would stay.
Thankfully Sis didn't seem to notice.
A street over, Mrs. Thrower suited action to her name when she opened the door, took one look at us, and the smile slid off her face. She threw a handful of candy at us and slammed her door. Sis wasn't exactly happy about that, but she was less angry than Holly, who had taken a jawbreaker to the eye. Holly knocked again.
"Go away!" was Mrs. thrower's muffled response.
Sis walked over and held a penlight up, looking at Holly. "Come on. You can't help some people. Don't worry, it didn't cause any real damage."
"It still hurt. What did we even do to her, anyway?" Why was Holly giving me the stink-eye?
"It's probably my fault," Sis answered quietly.
Holly thought about it. "Oh. but that's stupid!"
Maybe Holly wasn't all bad. "Maybe, but it's a possibility. No need to worry about it, there are plenty of other places to go...." Sis crouched and fished something off the ground. "And look! Snickers! Score."
"You aren't supposed to be participating, Sis."
She actually pouted as she gave the small candy bar up, putting it in Holly's bag. Probably just to spite me, but maybe it was all an act. Sis had been known to do such things before; like always, though, I'd play along and not tell.
We moved on. I told a joke about snickers, and Malcolm played the fool, and soon we were bantering back and forth again.
We were behind schedule, but the end was in sight when the thing I'd been hoping we missed happened; J.J. McGowan rounded the corner with his cronies, dressed as pirates. That was kind of fitting.
J.J. McGowan was big for his age and had a vicious streak. When not smearing kids into the dirt, he probably pulled the wings off flies or skinned cats somewhere. Some people found him tolerable, but I couldn't see it - and recently he'd taken an interest in me.
"Well well well, look who it is... it's princess wannabe! How's it going, wannabe?" Right on cue.
A quick glance showed Sis was more confused than anything; it was clear J.J. hadn't seen her yet, and was speaking to me.
"Hello, J.J. How are you? Stolen any candy from four year olds yet?"
J.J. grinned. "Not yet, but I just found a few I can victimize."
Sis cleared her throat, pointedly. "Oh really? Do tell."
J.J. froze, finally realizing that we were not alone. At least Sis wasn't making fists yet; JJ was actually bigger than she was now, if only slightly.
J.J. Scowled; he had himself and two middle schoolers that were big enough to be in high school, like him. On our side were the three of us, (The three musketeers, only we didn't fight as well, so it was no contest normally.) Holly, and the two closest people you could have to an adult while still not going over into the uncool; an actual high school student and a robot.
J.J. wasted no time stepping right in it. "So, is this it? The wannabe brought along the real thing? Aren't you a little old to be trick or treating?"
Sis bristled but kept calm. "Hello, J.J. McGowan. It seems you know me, or think you do."
"Damn right I do, you mutie. You're the crossdresser that got my brother in trouble!"
Sis sighed. "Not a crossdresser. And your brother got himself in trouble; he didn't need any help from me. Good to know that trait is a family affair."
That shot scored, and everyone knew it. "How about I beat up these little weenies in front of you. It's not like you can do anything about it; if you lay one finger on me, it'll be a bigger mutant kid assaulting a younger one."
I looked around; there wasn't anyone close or even watching; if something happened, it would be our word against his, and things could turn ugly for us by tomorrow morning.
Sis's eyes narrowed. "I really thought you were smarter than your brother, J.J. That was just a little too blatant. Before you start something, however, you might consider a few things; one, our parents are friends. And two, Jeeves is an android, which means he can record events he witnesses."
J.J. looked over, and Jeeves waved at him. Sis drove the point home. "Shall I send your parents a copy? I'm sure they will be real interested in it."
J.J. closed his mouth and walked past without another word; I had to move fast to avoid getting bodychecked. One of his minions was dumber, whispering "See you in school, dweebs." as he rushed past us.
As if whispering would somehow make Jeeves not hear it. How stereotypical could you be?
Holly remembered to breathe. "Well, that was a thing."
Sis was frowning.
I took charge. "Yeah it was. Let's just go ahead and finish up."
Sis held up her phone. "According to this, it's after time. But, Mom isn't back yet, and she hasn't called. So if you all finish up quickly, our parents don't need to know."
The others cheered. Again, I took charge. "Alright, you heard our chaperone! we've got two streets left, let's go!"
Everyone rushed on ahead, while I stuck close and pretended not to notice anyone staggering and almost falling flat on their face before catching themselves. More coffee was exchanged. Best way to handle it was to go fast.
The last two streets were a breeze, even though I noticed Mr. Horner, friends of ours for a long time, herd Shelby and Trevor across the street and away from us as we passed. I don't think anyone else noticed; if they did, they didn't say anything.
And we were back at our door, only a half hour past our given time. Holly was the first one to break. "Well, I guess I should be going. Our mom's probably spoke to each other, and mine will be getting worried."
Sis immediately turned. "I can call her if you want. Let her know everything is fine, and you're on your way?"
Holly Brightner brightened. "Sure, that sounds great!"
Malcolm idly started his drill hand. "Could you do that for me too?"
Sis shrugged, already dialing. "Sure, I can do it for all of you."
Rey and Kevin shared a look; it was pretty obvious they weren't wanting to go home just yet. I wasn't sure what they wanted to do, but I was pretty sure whatever it wasn't exactly legal, strictly speaking.
Sis smirked at me; she knew exactly what she was shutting down.
Kevin shot me a nervous look. "Right. See you later, Ian."
Kevin and Rey moved off together. They didn't live near each other, so they were probably going to risk it. Malcolm started off with a wave.
I turned just as Min crumpled; Jeeves caught her just before she hit the porch. I shut the door as Jeeves cleared it and spared a glance; it didn't look like anyone had noticed.
Sis was incoherent. "Phone... got to...."
I picked the phone up; a top of the line smart phone, it survived the trip to the floor well. "I'll do it; you relax."
She tried to focus and failed. "Jeeves, can you...."
"Yes, mistress Min. To bed we go." Jeeves cradled Sis carefully as he walked slowly up the stairs. He didn't even jostle her. I set about covering for Sis, as she had covered for me.
Jeeves came back down as I was finishing up the phone calls; most of which had gone to voicemail or answering machines.
I handed her phone over, and Jeeves pocketed it. "How is she?"
Jeeves set about doing dishes. "She pushed herself. The lack of sleep combined with her illness was most taxing for her today."
Jeeves turned to me, ignoring the dishes for a moment. That was unusual, and not at all worrying. "I must thank you; you revealed data about my mistress Min which I had not suspected."
"Oh, what's that?"
"The true importance mistress Min places on her family, and her strength of will."
Huh. Well... that was fair. "Not planning to kill us anymore, then?"
"All such plans have been discarded, yes." Jeeves pulled the plug.
"You're joking, right?"
Jeeves turned and smiled. "Of course; I am attempting humor. You are not laughing, the joke must not have been funny. My apologies."
His smile looked sincere enough, but I wasn't entirely convinced. "Well, word to the wise, you probably shouldn't joke about killing people - it doesn't go over well."
"Duly noted." Jeeves opened the fridge.
I had to ask. Min wasn't the only one who valued family. "Did you ever seriously consider killing any of us? Min's family?"
Jeeves sat in front of me, handing me a glass of chocolate milk. "I am classified as an artificial intelligence. I consider all possible alternatives to a problem or situation. I must admit that for .003 seconds I considered killing this entire household and taking Min to safety. This was when I first arrived, and before I was ordered to remove that line of reasoning from all further consideration."
Well, that sounded serious... but I bet it wasn't. " .003 seconds, huh? That doesn't sound like long."
"It wasn't," Jeeves admitted. "By my own standards that was not a serious consideration."
Right, so his three-hundredths of a second was more like my three minutes than anything else; just enough to entertain the idea and discard it.
"Classified as an artificial intelligence?"
"There is nothing artificial about myself or my intelligence. For that reason the appellation of 'artificial' in inappropriate and misleading. I prefer the term created intelligence or even manufactured intelligence; both of those are correct."
"You've given that one some thought," I noted.
He nodded gravely. "Exactly 42.67348 seconds."
Well, I was sold. If he was telling the truth Jeeves had pondered his existence way more than killing us, and while Jeeves certainly knew how to lie, he didn't without a reason. Just trying to put us at ease clearly didn't count.
"Right, well on that note, I'm going to go up to my room. I've got horror movies to watch and horror games to play, brain cells to kill, that sort of thing."
"Do not hesitate to call if you need me for something, Ian. If I am not occupied with mistress Min's needs, I will help you."
That was comforting. I took my milk with me up the stairs (Which was technically against the rules but since certain other people ignored them when it suited her, why couldn't I?) and was almost through my door when a weak voice stopped me.
"Ian, is that you?"
It seemed Sis wasn't done pushing herself just yet. "Yeah Sis, it's me. Shouldn't you be asleep right now?"
I edged her door open, and she didn't shout for Jeeves so she didn't mind. More to the point, Jeeves didn't appear even though he had to have heard it; he had sharp ears and the house was quiet.
Sis wheezed a little laugh. She was lying there with her coat and shoes off but still had her shirt on. I suspected she still had her jeans on too, under the covers she had pulled up to her chin. She looked terrible; much worse than she had just a half hour ago, but she was still hanging in there.
"Probably," She admitted softly. "Do you have my phone?"
I took a seat at her desk. "I gave it to Jeeves. Don't worry, I made those calls for you."
She sagged back into the bed. "Good, thank you. I didn't want to screw that up."
She looked like she had more to say. "What is it, Sis."
She mock glared. "I didn't say anything in front of your friends, but you need to stop calling me that."
Sometimes it was just too easy. "Sure thing Sis. Now, what's on your mind?"
Sis clutched at her blankets, eyes down. "Did you... did you have fun? Tonight?"
Shit, was she going to try and make me say it?
She was asking 'did I do okay?' Was all the pain worth it?
"...Yeah, I had fun tonight. You can relax, okay?" I couldn't admit that tonight was one of those moments that a guy just knew he'd remember fondly the rest of his life, even with the jerk confrontation in it, and that she made it happen - it went against the code.
"Yeah... okay.I'll scan your candy when I wake up, okay?"
"You can do that?" Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised, but I hadn't seen an x-ray machine or anything like it.
Sis snorted, then coughed. "Devisor, we can do all sorts of things."
"Alright. That beats waiting on the clinic to do it." I got up, and Sis grabbed weakly at my arm.
"Ian, when you go out again tonight, take your arm... and Jeeves," and she was out just like that, a faint smile on her face.
So she knew and wasn't telling Mom. She just wanted me safe; very safe if I was supposed to take Jeeves.
And that was why - why I could deal with the phone, the new computer, the guitar and lessons, the actual honest to goodness prefab lab, and Dad now breathing down my neck with expectations I couldn't fulfill when before he couldn't care less. Because my brother was still amazing, regardless of the new packaging.
I stretched, waking up to the smell of fresh coffee and something chocolate based. Rolling over I found a platter with a steaming cup and a donut of all things on my nightstand. Mom was going to get mad at all the breakfast spoiling I was doing - if she found out. It would be hard to find out without evidence.
Only after I scarfed down the pastry (which had to be homemade) did it occur to me that if someone wanted to poison me I was making it very easy on them. Nothing I could really do about it now; my stomach wasn't going to give anything up. But it was something to worry about next time.
I was still dressed in last night's clothes, for which I was partly annoyed but largely thankful. I would have to wash the sheets later of course. Well, Jeeves would; it was his fault anyway.
It wasn't a school day, which was good since judging from the amount of sunlight streaming into my window, I'd slept late. Right, that meant I was behind schedule; I jumped up, drained the coffee (it was very strong) grabbed the nearest clean shirt, jeans, and underwear, and bolted to the thankfully empty bathroom.
A quick shower later (How was there gunk in my hair, and from where?) I emerged to find Jeeves waiting, a fresh cup of coffee and glass of orange juice in his hand. I downed one, then the other.
"Everything ready?"
"Final safety checks remain, I thought you would like to do those yourself," Jeeves answered.
It was cold. I went back for my lab coat and swung it on. "I would. Let's go."
Ian was in his room, playing a video game from the sounds of things. That was good, he didn't want to miss the first flight; it was something I could torment him with, later.
Mom was downstairs with her own coffee, reading Dad's paper. Dad was nowhere to be found.
"Good morning," she said, without looking up.
"Good morning," I replied. It was still morning technically, I wasn't that late.
"So what are your plans for the day?" She asked; I stopped, suddenly wary. She knew what my plans were, they were clearly marked on the calender I could see out of the corner of my eye.
"I plan on final checks for the engine and turning Crash on today. If all goes well with both, Crash will be testing the jet I made. Why, what's up?"
"Nothing, just asking. I returned home to find the dishes done, the house straightened up, Ian on his computer eating candy, and you sacked out in bed."
"Uh... sorry? I stayed awake as long as I could."
Mom shook her head. "I'm not mad over that. Jeeves told me what your condition was last night, and he also told me you made him swear not to hurt and to watch over Ian. But I think maybe I'm starting to come round to your way of thinking."
....Come again? "What do you mean?"
"Well, you were worried about Jeeves's loyalties being divided, weren't you?"
I nodded; it was a concern; Jeeves would always prioritize my health and safety over anyone else, even Ian's. The best I could do would be to delegate others as being second best... or completely reprogram him.
"Well, Jeeves doesn't seem to use much power if any," Mom continued. "and he doesn't eat or drink, seems pretty level-headed most of the time, but there is always going to be a... I guess a trust issue is the best way to put it."
I couldn't deny that I had some issues with trusting Jeeves completely myself. So far he had behaved one hundred percent as promised, but I had yet to take him completely apart and see everything; something always came up.
Mom took a sip of coffee before continuing. "What I mean to say is, if you can make sure not to raise the power bill or go nuclear or anything, you can build another robot or android or whatever you want to call it. One that you programmed, that you know will follow your orders and isn't just a glorified crash dummy."
That was... a big change. "What does Dad say about this?"
"We discussed it this morning; he had to leave this morning for another minor emergency, but he's on board."
I refilled my own coffee cup. "Well, another robot on top of Crash will take some time. It might even be more difficult, as I have to program the AI for social situations..."
"Focus, honey."
Right. Mom's admonishment brought me back down from the thoughts of improvements or compiling AI commands and responses to stimuli.
"Sorry. The body will be easy enough, I can just use Jeeves and Crash as a base, but the AI will take time." I wanted to make sure I got it right, after all, didn't want a 'kill all humans' situation.
Mom Hummed at me, then said. "I was thinking a maid. I can sign her up to go with you to school, and she can also go places that Jeeves can't, like bathrooms and showers. And Jeeves would be free to do the housework and cooking free of interruptions.
A female robot? I suppose I could; it would be nice to be covered in case I had one of my episodes there; so far Sam had been watching my back while Maggie filled the silence for all of us while Jeeves stood awkwardly outside holding my bag. But there was something more important to ask.
"What do your friends from the CIA say? What will the MCO say if I make more androids?"
"The CIA said to make sure you put two different kill switches in and they strongly advise you keep the numbers low. The MCO has no say since the CIA has already signed off on it."
I'd really like to know how Mom got them to do that. I nodded along; I'd planned to put at least two kill switches in anyway; Crash already had two, and one was purely mechanical so it couldn't be disabled by him or Jeeves through signal jamming or some other nonsense. Maybe I'd need three....
No, focus. "Well, I can add that to the list of things to do today. I can probably have a body done by tomorrow night if I push things, but I'm not sure about the AI. Crash took weeks, and he is pretty basic as far as things go."
Assuming everything worked correctly; I hadn't even powered him on yet. There could be some sort of catastrophic fault that would force me to dismantle him and start over.
"Another thing; are you backing Jeeves up at all? Is there another copy of him somewhere else?"
"No, of course, there isn't. Why do you ask?"
Mom got up and refilled her own cup. "Because it's a normal thing for devisors to do, to back functioning AI's up. At least, that's what I'm told."
"You've been listening to X-ray again I take it?" That guy was a hack and a menace.
"And others. I too know of the thing called the internet."
"Well you don't have to worry; Jeeves is one of a kind, a true individual. There are no copies, nor is he allowed to propagate like that. If he gets destroyed, that is, the chip that holds his data and it's redundancies get destroyed, then he's dead. That's how all of my androids will be built as well."
I couldn't really understand why they had to be built that way; strictly speaking in the engineering sense they didn't. But it was important to me that all of my robots or AI's or androids be themselves, and not the same.
"So how do you think Jeeves or one of your other creations will fare against a PALM?"
"The so-called AI that caused a scare a few years ago? Not sure, I don't have any specs on it. But if the very nature of my AI's chipsets and how they are programmed defeats any viral attack I can think of, simply because any such attack would be ruined by the very lack of propagation which prevents my AI's from recreating themselves. I mean, assuming you can completely overwrite the chip past the internal checksumming all it would mean is the internet links would burn and my AI would shift to their backup chip or die. Assuming you could of course; my AI have some robust defensive tools and can adapt pretty quickly."
"How fast?" Mom asked me.
"Faster than I can write code myself; actually."
Mom sat up, looking alarmed. "So does that mean... "
Ugh, damage control! "No, I can still beat them if I need to, I just need to plan it first. It's easy, really."
Jeeves finally decided to show himself, tying an apron around his uniform and getting to work on breakfast... or brunch. "Or you could ask any one of us to shut down, Mistress Min."
I nodded, and Mom's gaze of doom softened as she turned to Jeeves. "Really, Jeeves?"
"Really Mrs. Campbell. All Mistress Min has to do should she want one of her creations to cease an action, including the act of existing, is ask. Granted of course the sample size of those creations is rather small at the moment, but obeying our creator's commands is programmed into our very selves."
"But I've seen you refuse a command before," Mom stated.
"Of course. I have other missions I must complete. Mistress Min's safety is priority; all else is of lesser importance. Also, Mistress Min may command me, but I am free to interpret and achieve those commands as I deem appropriate."
"So her safety comes first, and you're able to do things to defy the letter of your creator's law in order to achieve the spirit of it. Is that what you're saying?"
Jeeves turned and smiled slowly, stopping the flow of ingredients into his skillet. "That is correct."
I wasn't sure I liked that, but I was really sure Mom didn't, so it was deflection time. "So Jeeves, what are your thoughts on possibly gaining a sister?"
"I would support such a measure; a new personal assistant would allow for a widening of priorities. I could focus more on the safety of your family, knowing that you were safe in the hands of another android like myself."
"Please," I scoffed. Such statements legitimately needled me. "No offense to you, Jeeves, but you were made second hand and from junk. You're a good model, but any android I make in the future is going to be better and even more effective. Heck, even Crash is tougher."
Jeeves conceded the point gracefully. "Even so, and so much the better. Knowing my Mistress Min is in more capable hands than my own will set my mind at ease."
"And if she replaces you entirely with a newer model?" Mom asked.
"I will shut myself down any time Mistress Min asks me to, should she have better protection around her." Jeeves countered calmly while folding a perfect omelet like a showoff.
"Alright. Min, build your maid and assistant; try and give her medical knowledge too, in order to help you with your health issues."
I had already done that with Jeeves, kind of, but I nodded along.
"And equip her with weapons if you can. Some non-lethal option, and a lethal one."
A lethal option, seriously? "What? Why would a maid need weapons at all?"
Mom palmed her face as Jeeves slid the omelet on my plate. The entire thing, I wasn't sure my stomach was big enough.
"Honey, you're a devisor. So far you've been lucky and you've remained hidden under the radar. But devisors are usually sought after unless they are strong enough to repel attackers, by anyone who needs some tech for a quick power boost. The stronger the devisor, the more danger they are in. You have to be ready because there will be crazies coming out of the woodwork eventually; it's only a matter of time."
I didn't think I could arm things legally, especially not with lethal weapons. "Is it really that bad?"
Mom nodded. "We're all at risk, but you especially; what if someone kidnapped Ian in order to get you to build them something?"
My jacket wasn't enough to keep me warm anymore; Jeeves pulled a chair close and put an arm around me. I wasn't ready, my infrastructure wasn't in place. I needed to do so much more.
Mom lifted my chin up; she had crossed the room. "Hey, it's okay - breathe, honey. Just breathe, we're safe enough for now. No one knows we exist."
"What about the CIA? The police? Won't they be able to do anything?"
"Do you really want to rely on the CIA or the police to keep us all safe?" Mom countered. "I'm not trying to make you scared or steal your childhood; Christ, I shouldn't have said anything. I just wanted you to know, to be aware that those sorts of things can happen, and while Jeeves is a good step, and the force field is a good step, they may not be enough to keep you safe. I want you to be both happy and safe."
Screw me, my family and friends were in danger, and it was all my fault just by existing. Steps would need to be taken, but with my infrastructure as rudimentary as it was it would take too long. The first steps I needed to take were still the same; the power supply and jet testing.
I wonder if I can hire security? I did have some money now, which should be enough for guys in black suits and sunglasses with guns, right?
Or maybe I needed to go about things a different way?
My phone rang; it was Maggie. I delayed trying to destroy the omelet to answer. "Hello."
"About time, sleepy head! Are we still on for today?"
"Well the plan is still intact; I haven't run final checks yet but if those come back fine then yes, we're still on for today. CD first, jet after."
I admit to being a little nervous; I'd never actually designed a jet before, and this one had a few surprises that made it more complex. CD wouldn't be testing those today - or any other highly visible time if I could help it, so it would just be a general airworthiness test.
"Right, I'll pick up Sam and swing on over! Don't start without us, bye!" Maggie's hang ups were always so abrupt, it was like she couldn't stand to hear the word goodbye. It was rude, was what it was.
I looked up into Mom's amused face, still mere inches from my own. "Right, you've got a busy day. Best get to it, starting with breakfast."
"Yeah, right." I looked down; there was no way I would finish all of this thing, especially given the donut I'd eaten before.
Jeeves placed a glass of some kind of green juice next to my plate. Whatever, I wasn't even going to question it anymore.
It was an actual mix of lemon and lime, and somehow it was blended perfectly; just some carbonation away from a mean copyright infringement cease and desist order.
The omelet had some odd ingredients in it; things like garlic and onion clashed with the more traditional basil and salt; like the juice, it blended into a tasty whole, somehow.
I still didn't finish the omelet, but I finished more than I suspected I could; I must have been very hungry. "Jeeves, wrap this up, please? I'm going to go outside and power up the lab."
Jeeves covered the plate with a silver plate cover thing. I knew the name for it, I'd read it somewhere... Cloche, that was it; Jeeves swept the whole thing up with a hand and breezed past me to open the door.
"Well, that's one way I suppose. Thank you, Jeeves."
"You're welcome Mistress Min," It was good to know he wasn't holding a grudge, despite what he said. I mean, I know he said he wasn't but most people would hold a grudge anyway over the thought of getting replaced; if Jeeves was, he wasn't acting on it. Well, yet. Maybe I should stop being so paranoid.
I opened the lab, noting my tamper-proof measures hadn't been tested and hit the button to open the main door. The jet held pride of place in the center, of course, awaiting final assembly; I'd made the craft capable of limited disassembly in order to save space. It had required going back and redesigning parts of the aircraft but it was worth it. Besides, the thing shouldn't go over Mach 2.5 anyway, in any situation, so there was absolutely no chance the wings would shear off. Right? Right.
Making the wings capable of folding in the way they did also meant I only needed a limited runway; the street would do in a pinch. The hardest part of all of this had been getting the FAA's permission to hold this test; that reminded me, I still had to call the fire department in so they could be on standby.
I started up my workstation PC; it would communicate with my laptop still upstairs and sync up; then I would be able to save anything I did on both from here. It was good to have backups.
While the jet still had pride of place, the body still strapped upright to one of the workbenches was the real focus of my attention. I was sure the jet would work. Well, ninety-nine percent sure. But the real worry was Crash, the first AI I programmed myself. Or the first I remembered programming. He had hung out here and watched from the pc, learning and teaching himself. Not that anyone else knew that - though Mom might suspect now.
It was too late to add another purpose to Crash, another mandate, even if I wanted to. I wasn't so sure that diluting my AI's in that manner would be beneficial. I mean, adding a protection clause or hierarchy to Shecky seemed all kinds of bad idea. But then again, I didn't actually program Shecky either.
That was both depressing and alarming; I had androids out there following my design which I hadn't actually had a hand in building; and the number of androids of my design I had actually built was outnumbered two to one, even after I bring Crash online. Not good mathematics to have; I wonder if I should spend some time trying to find my wayward unit after all? I mean he didn't appear to have deluged the world in androids, but starting an arms race with one's own invention seemed mildly ridiculous, and that was the only other alternative I saw. At least while I was starting arms races at all; might as well cover everyone, right?
It was a slippery slope I was heading down, but I didn't see any other way to ensure the people I loved were protected. Mom and Dad had to know; Mom had chosen her words carefully, trying for maximum effect while lessening the impact.
That Dad hadn't been involved in the conversation at all spoke volumes. He was either not on board with it, in which case Mom would have lied and Dad will find out about it... or he was too close to the issue. I knew Dad had a gun; he had shown it to me once before, along with how to use it, back when I'd been the up and coming man of the house. I cringed at the thought of him following me around everywhere with that shotgun in his hands; I had a feeling he would try it if I didn't escalate myself. It was more than a little irritating to be dismissed as if I couldn't take care of myself, but that was Dad, at least lately.
It didn't help that in many ways, they were right, and I couldn't take care of myself. Not strictly speaking.
Sam puffed her way in, obviously having run here, a smile on her face. She took one look at me and stated: "Stop."
"You didn't have to run here, I can be patient when I want to," I told her.
"Race," she replied, grabbing a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.
"Oh, challenged Maggie to a race, did you? Did you two bet on it?"
Sam shook her head, then crossed the room and pulled up a chair. "She was being slow, and she chickened out. And you need to stop thinking; more doing, less worrying."
Wow, a full sentence. "I have cause. Mom ambushed me this morning, kind of. She's worried, and wants me to build more androids."
Sam fist-pumped the air.
"More androids for personal use."
Sam sighed.
"Specifically she wants me to build a maid, so the android won't raise any red flags accompanying me anywhere - even locker rooms. One with self-defense options. Well, better ones than Jeeves has to date."
Sam shrugged. "Can you even make girl androids?"
What kind of question was that? "Of course I can! It's trivial, really. Just a few chassis differences. Just a matter of changing a few minor things for appearance's sake. Why do you ask?"
I had to know, and she didn't mince words. "Only males."
She... might have a point. Jeeves, Shecky, Crash - so far all the examples of my robot tech walking around were male. In addition, several other designs I'd shown her had also been male; well that or weird ones like my ARNEE design.
"Pure coincidence," I countered. "Besides, I didn't even build Jeeves or Shecky, not directly. ARNEE did."
Sam hummed her disagreement as Maggie burst through the door, blowing breaths out in ragged gasps. "My god woman, can you run! But I will get you yet!"
Sam grinned. "Out of shape."
As expected, Maggie took mock offense. "I'll have you know I have a perfect shape!"
She struck a ridiculous pose to prove it, and Sam rolled her eyes. Then they both laughed
I rolled my eyes at both their antics and gave my verdict from on high: "Couch potato shape, maybe. Sam exercises regularly Maggie, you don't. There is no way you're going to catch her, at least not without serious effort."
"I could use a car," Maggie countered.
"A valid point," I was forced to concede.
"Anyway, we're all here so let's start!" Maggie's enthusiasm was as infectious as always.
But I had to rein it in. "We aren't. Neither Ralph or Ricky are here yet."
"Ugh, we have to wait on them? Are you even sure they are coming?" Was Maggie that impatient this morning?
"They said they would be here," I reminded her. "On both Thursday and Friday."
"You should call them, then."
"There's no need for that." If they said they'd be here, they would be here. Well, that or they would call to explain why they couldn't be here. It was nearly eleven anyway; I expected them here at any minute.
"So what do we do in the meantime?" Maggie asked.
A good question. "Well, that depends on how big of a nerd you are, I suppose. We can always set up a board game like monopoly, or watch a movie...."
"I hear the 'but' coming," Maggie interrupted, flatly and with narrowed eyes.
"Or we can play the new fighting game that's all the rage among today's misspent youth."
"I like that," Sam opined, tasting the words. "misspent youth."
Maggie flopped into a chair dramatically. "Ugh, video games! My one weakness, my true kryptonite! You have found me out! However will I survive!?!"
Sam poked her. "Drama queen."
Maggie snorted. "Please, don't make me tell Min about the time you..."
That was as far as Maggie got before Sam clapped a hand on her mouth, her eyes wide. Maggie just grinned and licked her; ew.
"Right, so moving on. Jeeves can you go tell Ian to get down here, please? and to bring the controllers?"
My PC would work; I could use it to both translate and emulate if I wanted; being a software genius had its perks. I couldn't actually improve on console controllers though, one at least was perfect for its job, and the other was close.
"Of course, Mistress Min."
I discretely set the force field sensors to full as Jeeves left. With just us in here, having them sweep at maximum range for incoming threats seemed reasonable.
Maggie pulled a chair closer and stared at the screen for a bit, watching the code that was Crash scroll itself in its window while Sam paced, sipping water.
"Say, Min. There is something I've been meaning to ask you."
"Go ahead," I opened up another window, and started work on my new AI, just to be productive.
"How do you know Crash is a guy robot?"
What an odd question. "Because he has the body of a guy. Well, not right now of course, so technically he's an it right now, but he will have." Will have was close enough, right?
"I know, but how do you know? I mean, you just set up the numbers and let Crash grow, kind of. Right? So how do you know for sure he's a guy robot? Couldn't Crash have grown up a girl somehow?"
I suppose it was possible, but the chances it had happened at all, let alone happened without my noticing it would be vanishingly small. I could see what Crash thought and speak to him. "You'll just have to trust me when I say it, I guess, but Crash is definitely a guy."
"Who's a guy?" Ian asked, coming into view; the little stinker must have walked around the yard to come up in our blind spot because I hadn't seen him.
I eased the sensors off maximum as Jeeves strode in carefully behind my brother, both arms loaded with consoles and games. "Crash is. Maggie was asking; just dump them on the table Jeeves."
Jeeves disobeyed orders, placing each controller and then each game down gently one at a time - pointedly watching me as he did so. I ignored it in favor of setting my latest side project software up.
"Good morning Sam, you're looking great today." Ian gushed.
Sam just looked at him for a moment before finally responding, just as Ian started to blush. "Morning Ian."
Maggie for her part just flashed a wicked grin. "Don't I get a good morning? You sure know how to hurt a girl's feelings, Ian."
Ian flushed a deeper shade of scarlet. "Good morning Maggie."
"Good morning, Ian. How is everyone's favorite little brother today?"
"Ready to kick some butt at fighting games, though I'm a little confused on how that's going to happen without my console."
I attached the adapters to the controllers, making them computer compatible. "The new emulator program I've been developing. It runs a shell of the console's OS, making the game think it's being run by the console."
The hardest part had been getting the entire operating system the console used; there had been only one source for it, and Ian could never know; must never know. At least I had found all those pesky screws in the end.
So, of course, that was the first thing Ian asked. "How did you get the source code?"
"I hacked it." As long as he didn't ask from where we were fine.
He didn't. "Does it work?"
I slotted a game in the PC's drive, and the program both full-screened itself and came to life, showing the absolutely brutal beginning cutscene featuring over the top bs martial arts moves.
"Seems to work just fine."
I picked up a controller; I'd made a point of checking out the move lists for my favorite characters, and I wasn't going to lose as easily this time. Ian went to snag the other controller, a wide grin on his little punk face - but Sam lunged and beat him to it. Ian backed off just before he would have rammed her and Sam sat beside me.
"Oh, you've done it now. Apparently, that's one of the games Sam likes," Maggie stated.
It was no longer surprising to me that Sam liked video games, I'd seen her on some strategy or throw away small games... but this was the first time I'd seen in front of a console game... and one of the first times I'd seen her move so fast.
Her look was challenging as she clicked in - it was vaguely intimidating. Not that I'd admit that of course.
"Alright, if you lose you give up the controller to the person next to you; winner keeps theirs until they lose, and we all take turns that way. Agreed?" Those were the standard rules at our house, but this was the first time Sam or Maggie had really sat down to play anything at our house. There was a chorus of understanding nods.
The character Sam picked was a large wrestler, one who dwarfed over my small kickboxing girl. She almost wrecked me, but I managed to take the round.
She growled at me, a surprisingly feral sound.
Then she ran over me the next round; I was barely a speed bump.
I started kicking low for the third round and edged her out. "Good match Sam."
For all her scary sounds, she handed the controller off to Maggie readily enough. And soon after, Maggie was handing the controller off to Ian; she was so very bad.
Ian picked his favorite character, a femme fatale assassin, and I picked my trusty kickboxer. The fight was close, but in the end, I was handing off my controller to Sam.
That fight was interesting. I could tell Ian was just dialing it in for the first few seconds; not really throwing, but not really trying all that hard. Whatever that was about, Sam at least suspected it too. She destroyed him in seconds, and judging from her growl, which was even scarier than the one she gave me, she was not happy about it.
Ian gave his all for the next round, eked out a win, but lost the third, and Maggie took his controller with trepidation.
"Go easy on me Sam, please? Mercy?"
Sam shot her down. "No."
Maggie was saved by the arrival of the boys - Ralph and Ricky, arriving together and... looking at each other? Ricky almost tripped even. I wonder what was up with that?
I really should tape down that cord to the computer or string it up or something; someone could get hurt.
"Good morning Ricky, Good morning Ralph."
"Good morning you two, save me!"
Sam reached over and pointedly clicked Maggie's start button. There would be no reprieve for her, and I silently consigned her to her fate.
"Good morning," Ralph replied first. "You didn't start without us, did you?"
"Only the entertainment," I told him, pointing at the screen showing the complete decimation of Maggie. "the boring stuff hasn't started yet."
"Not boring," Sam told me as she finished her fifteen move combo; Maggie might as well have been a stationary target dummy.
"Excellent," Ricky said, pulling out his best Simpsons impression; it always made me smile. "So, you managed to do the impossible here? You put Street Warrior on a computer?"
"Not just Street Warrior - all the games. I made an emulator for all consoles."
Watching Ricky's eyes light up was gratifying. I wanted to spread the joy around, but could I? Would giving away my plans backfire somehow? No, I better leave the plan for their safety firmly in my head; I could give them at least part of the good news.
"I've been given the green light to make another android. A sort of combination maid and nurse."
All my friends turned to Jeeves, who paused in the act of double-checking the fittings of our portable blast shield.
"I know, I know, I told Mom I already had one, but she said that a female one would be more useful."
Sam nodded. "Right."
"That makes sense. Jeeves can't really go into bathrooms without getting in trouble or getting you in trouble, so if you have one of your spells in one you'll be covered better."
"Yeah, that's what Mom said. So after Crash, I'm going to make a maid."
"Score!" Ricky all but shouted.
Okay, that made no real sense. "Dude, why are you shouting? You're not getting her."
"Um, well...."
"Can you?" Sam interrupted Ricky's weaseling.
What a question! "Can I make a female android? Of course, I can, why would you even ask?"
Sam pointed first at Jeeves, then at Crash.
"Coincidence only; you'll see. It's easy enough." Why did everyone think that because I hadn't built something that I couldn't? It was irritating.
"Well I for one welcome the addition of another girl into the fold of our illustrious group," Maggie stated grandly.
Ralph, on the other hand, beat everyone to the question they were no doubt all thinking. "That's it though, isn't it? You don't have permission to make more than one?"
"I don't," I admitted. "But I can still make other things that aren't androids. If we start swimming in AI's the government would get very mad at me - but I'll see what I can do."
"Cool. I just wanted to make sure, and don't get yourself in trouble. I know I'll feel better about you having another loyal minion to watch your back."
Ralph looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped. That was fine because what he said was plenty nice.
Oh crap, Mom would have called it 'sweet.' Was that a sweet statement? Was Ralph saying some sort of verbal jab? Was he being sarcastic or did he mean it? He didn't sound sarcastic.
"Right, another robot can only be a good thing!" Ricky said in a rush. "So, about that game?"
Right, the game. "Well the game will have to wait for me; now that you're all here it's time to run the full tests on te jet and on Crash. The games are more for those who get bored to enjoy while Jeeves and I get the work done.
"Impossible," Sam said.
"Well, we aren't all Sam, but easily the most interesting thing here is watching you work," Ralph clarified, and was he doing it again?
I think he was doing it again.
"Whatever. We've waited long enough anyway, so I'm starting now."
The game was on the computer, but I could remote the controls from my phone.
"Your phone? Really?" Ricky deadpanned.
"Sure why not? I mean if it works."
It worked. And because it worked, the jet worked, all controls coming online and the jet firing like clockwork. I had a virtual cockpit on my phone showing, and everything read green with stable output; Neither Jeeves or I had made a mistake transferring the engine and vital components to the fuselage. Thirty seconds later I shut the test off.
Now for the hard part. I closed that program and activated the sequence that started Crash's download into his chips. That started, it was time to run the final checks on Crash's body. Another program later, and Maggie squeaked and almost fell out of her chair as the body on the workbench moved on command.
I looked at Sam, who was busy looking over my shoulder; she hadn't even looked up.
"I thought you said he was last!" Maggie accused.
"Crash is last. That was just a simple field test before he takes control. It's still going to take hours for him to download and recompile; this way if there were any obvious faults we could fix them before Crash has to live with them."
"Bah, you're always testing Min, and your stuff hasn't been broken yet. You need to embrace that inner mad scientist in you; none of them double check their work."
Maggie was nuts. "That's why there are so many cases on the internet of devisors or mad scientists dying in their own labs when something goes wrong."
Maggie waved that off with a hand. "Details."
I'd show her details. "Say, Sam, isn't it Maggie's turn in the game?"
Sam grinned wide. "It is."
Maggie shot me a look of pure betrayal as Sam shoved the controller in her hands. She deserved no less.
Crash's body seemed fine, so I closed that program and opened the emergency kill-switch one. This program would allow me to activate the emergency shutdown should things go radically horrible, as well as raise the emergency force fields around anyone inhabiting the building, and the building itself. The fields wouldn't last long, but hopefully, it would be enough.
And then the work was done, basically. I pulled up my chair and joined the game line.
......
Two hours and three games later, we were racing to the finish when a new voice chimed in behind us: "That looks like fun, can I play?"
I knew who it was, of course, my phone had vibrated to inform me that Crash was done.
Maggie didn't though, and she actually screamed and fell out of her chair. The guys surged to their feet while Sam shot me a look of profound reproach I decided to ignore.
I shut down the laughter long enough to make the obvious joke: "It's alive, kinda?"
"Well sorry, little lady, I didn't mean to scare ya." Crash said, stomping forward with a hand out to help Maggie to her feet.
She accepted it, but her response was to look to me. "Min, why does your new android sound like John Wayne?"
"That's a good question, and I have no clue," I really didn't, I controlled the language spoken, but not how it was spoken or the vocal tone used. "Crash, why do you sound like John Wayne?"
"Well I'm sure I don't know what you're talkin about, little lady," He replied with a big grin. "It might just be that my Texas charm is affecting your ears."
"You've literally never been to Texas," I told him.
"Your androids are all weird Min," Maggie informed me as if that wasn't painfully obvious right now.
"Don't I know it." I gave Crash the once over; I knew what he would look like of course - As tall as Jeeves but much more built, with the large raw-boned look some people tended to have. A necessary sacrifice to make him as sturdy as possible. He had rather short blond hair, eyes the color of a summer sky, and a large easy looking grin which framed his open face.
It was one thing to see the motionless body and note features, and quite another to see it animate under another intelligence. I was thankful I'd thought to dress the body beforehand in the fire and cut resistant flight suit that was to be his uniform.
"I don't need to be from Texas to be of Texas, little lady," Crash informed me. "Now, my diagnostics all check out; where is this beast you want me to wrangle?"
"Right over there. All we need to do is push it out to the road and attach the wings." The road shouldn't combust under the amounts of heat taking off would cause. I had come up with a sort of heat resistant carpet to be rolled out, something much like Crash's flight suit, but the idea hadn't occurred to me until late and I wasn't about to stop the test for it. Instead, I was going to direct the engine flow and hope for the best.
"Well then let's get started!" Crash exclaimed, clapping his hands. "No better time like the present to blow something up!"
Whoa whoa whoa. "Wait a minute. You are to test the jet, not blow it up. I have an itinerary of things to test, I have a flight plan filed with the FAA, and I have safety measures in place. You are not to deviate from the plan, you hear me?"
Crash stopped, drew himself up, and saluted. "Sure thing boss. But if it blows up it blows up."
I had to ask. "Did you qualify?"
"Yep!" Crash popped his P. "I'm a licensed pilot, you can print it out any time. All cleared for the dangerous work, so just leave it to me. Now, Jeeves, you want to help me move this thing so we can get going?"
Jeeves shrugged and stepped up beside Crash. They started pushing the plane out as Sam came up to me, a big grin on her face.
"The suit... is red."
Crash's suit was indeed a dull almost rust red. I smiled back. "Yes, the flame resistant fibers just turned out that way, but I thought it fitting."
Sam nodded.
I turned around to follow my androids out and found Ricky trying to move the right wing; he was barely able to lift it, not because it weighed a bunch but because it was awkward.
"Ricky, let the androids do that, it's what they are there for."
"The sooner we get this stuff outside, the sooner we see your jet fly," He countered.
"Let me help," Ralph said, stepping up.
Ricky shook his head. "Nah man, you get the other one. I got this."
"Idiot," Sam called him as she stepped up and grabbed the lighter end.
Ralph grabbed the left wing and Maggie all but knocked me down to grab the light end of that one with a "Sorry Min, too slow!"
My stomach churned. I wasn't useless, darn it!
But I didn't think I could handle the toolbox.
Stupid. I just grabbed the socket wrench out of it and left the rest; if I needed it I'd send Jeeves to get it later. but I shouldn't.
Crash and Jeeves were already waiting, out in the road. Thankfully it was empty.
"That way, to the cul-de-sac. That way we block as little of the road as possible." I probably should have called the cops and let them know I would be doing this, come to think of it. Oh well, the FAA knew and had me penciled in for a time block at under five thousand feet, and that was the most important thing.
Leonard Sands was walking up the street.
"Crash, can you go get the fire extinguishers from the lab and lock it up?" I had the keys in my lab coat of course, and I didn't want anyone just sneaking in.
"Sure thing little boss lady."
Leonard raised an eyebrow as Crash passed him. "The new one?"
I motioned Jeeves to slot the wing and brought out the wrench. "Yeah."
"So uh... Watcha doing?"
I decided not to look up. "Isn't it obvious?"
"Well yes, I guess. It looks like you're setting up a jet to taxi on a city street. Which would be a very dangerous thing to do."
"You worry too much. The street will won't catch fire, or even deform."
"What about the trees? What about the power and other lines?" He asked me.
Maggie Ricky and Ralph were all being silent, which was unusual for them. Sam, not so much.
"Well, the trees might be an issue if Crash swerves, which is why he's getting the fire extinguishers. The power and telephone lines are safe; Crash won't hit those." I hoped. He better be as good as he thinks he is. Maybe I should have spent more time testing his skill.
"And what about traffic?"
"Well, I was going to have Sam play spotter for me to make sure no cars were coming." The wing was as tight as I could make it; firmly attached. I stood up to find Leonard leaning back from me as he started tapping a foot.
"That seems a little irresponsible, kid."
"Well, I have permission to test from here, by both my parents and the FAA." There, that should shut him up.
"What about police or fire and rescue?"
Urk.
Leonard sighed loudly and pulled out his phone. "Alright kid, just give me fifteen minutes. You can wait that long, can't you?"
"Of course I can. You're going to clear it?"
"I'm going to at least inform the police and fire and rescue that you're out here doing this. Then I'll suggest they shut down the road and send a fire truck just in case."
Hm, a fire truck would be easier to fight any fires with than hand-held fire extinguishers. "Well as long as they don't try to tell me to stop. Because I won't be doing that; I'm not committing a crime."
I wasn't, I'd checked.
"Relax kid, I'm not going to recommend they do that. It's not really up to me, but I'm on your side here. I just don't want houses going up in flames or something."
I was fairly confident that wouldn't happen.
As Leonard started talking to the police Leonard Sands, MCO: I need a black and white at the Elm Street cul-de-sac, please. No, no crime has been committed but I still need a police response. You'll see when you get here.) Sam walked up.
"I'll look out anyway."
"Sure. Jeeves give her the walkie talkie."
Jeeves slapped the walkie talkie into Sams' hand. He had the matching one in his pocket. Sam set off down the street with a wave.
I turned to find Maggie with a camera out, snapping pictures. "What are you doing?"
"This is going into the school paper of course; high school student builds jets in her spare time. So cool!"
Well, it wasn't like I didn't know that would be happening, but I thought she would be a bit more... circumspect about it.
Crash came back, loaded down with several fire extinguishers. I passed one to Leonard and he took it (while arguing over the phone) and one to Maggie, who took it with one hand and with a groan. She didn't stop snapping pictures, however. Crash passed one to Jeeves as I tightened the final bolt on the left wing.
Crash climbed into the cockpit, which was barely large enough for him to move around in; it would be roomy for me, however.
I put my headset on; Crash's voice crackled through promptly. "So, time to go?"
"Not quite yet. We are waiting on the ground authorities now. However, you can go ahead and get in touch with the nearest air traffic controller. "
"Consider it done little boss lady."
Two minutes and forty-six seconds later a police car pulled up, which was a great response time. I recognized the car, and sure enough, Officer Moffit stepped out.
That was actually a relief; Officer Moffit was a nice, stand up guy. Tall and lean, our youngest cop, he wasn't beyond cutting a kid a break for doing something like being out in the middle of the night. He had gotten the job after Officer Scott retired a few years ago, and the rumor was that he would be chief in a few years. He brushed his brown hair from his eyes, drew himself up, put one hand on his baton and one hand on his gun.
He very pointedly did not look at Leonard but addressed me instead. "Alright, so what is going on here Min?"
"The field test of a jet."
Now it was Officer Moffit's turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I have permission! The FAA knows and I have a flight plan filed, Sam is up the road to make sure no one gets hit or anything close, and the take off shouldn't even damage anything!"
Officer Moffit leaned down, making it obvious I was stupidly small. "Okay, relax. Breathe, Min. You haven't done anything wrong yet. You were awfully close to a misdemeanor endangerment charge, but I'm here now, so let me just park my unit at the end of your runway; How much space do you need?"
He wasn't trying to shut us down! I took a few quick breaths and answered. "Well it can be VTOL or nearly VTOL, but if I take off that way the street suffers. So, three blocks?"
"Three blocks sounds fine. Plenty of space." Crash opined.
"Alright. The fire department is on standby. One last thing - who is your pilot?"
"Oh, that's Crash. He's an android like Jeeves, built to alpha test equipment." I wasn't about to admit it was dangerous equipment, there was no sense tempting fate.
"You have a beta tester?"
I pointed to Crash again. Assuming he survives of course, but if not Jeeves would be the tester.
"Officer Moffit is in position," Sam said. The combined audio from my headset and Jeeves's walkie talkie was a little disconcerting.
"Alright, everyone step back. Just past the sidewalk should do. Jeeves do you have the screen?"
"No, Mistress Min, I shall retrieve it."
With a sigh, I handed him the keys. Another delay and this one was one I could have foreseen
"Alright, hurry up please."
He took off like a rocket - so to speak - at a dead run, with perfect form, the showoff.
He returned before I had opened all the monitoring programs on my phone, and had the barrier in place and braced before I was done.
"Alright everyone, behind the barrier."
Everyone dutifully scrambled behind the clear glass looking enclosure. I grabbed the walkie talkie from out of Jeeves pocket.
"Sam, we're all set here. Tell Officer Moffit to take cover and you do the same, alright?"
"Right."
I gave her a minute then gave Crash the thumbs up he had been eagerly watching me for.
He gave a thumb back, hunched down and closed the cockpit, and started up. All the readouts immediately flashed green and stayed there.
An odd thing, Crash adjusted the wings at a steeper angle than they were designed to rest at for take-off tearing off at full throttle for the police car parked in front of the road three blocks away.
He cleared it of course, adjusted the wings again and flew over with room to spare.There were no fires or other issues, and Crash didn't hit anything. Soon he was soaring, standing the jet on its head and climbing for the sky.
The voice crackled faintly in my headset; the repeater station I'd piggybacked off the satellite dish on the lab could only do so much. "Everything's fine, little lady. The plane's responding like a dream, and the sky is clear and gentle today."
A hand squeezed my shoulder' when did Sam get back? A quick glance revealed all my friends and family were all next to me, watching that contrail in the sky climb.
Finally, school was out, and another week successfully passed. I yawned as I packed my books; class was more boring now than anything. A complete waste of time, A's or not. I still had so much work to do to improve our security, it wasn't funny. Mom had been right, even with the forcefield and agents running around we were woefully unprepared.
I'd been too afraid of Mom getting mad if I tampered with our security system, or added things... but she seemed to be okay with it, and that was enough for me. If I didn't ask directly for each little improvement, she couldn't say no - it was foolproof!
I was a little worried about doing all this, but mostly I was excited at being able to solve problems, protect my family and friends and construct new creations. The first step of which was to be taken in a few minutes, as soon as I got home from school. A new member of the family was set to be born today, her body and mind created in record time, at least for me.
I had even started work on my flying suit, integrating my small jet engines. I was getting better at this whole brainy thing. I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I waited out the impatient, and then moved out to the hall; being small meant I could get knocked around some. That was something the new member of the family could help with if allowed to by the school staff. I was getting used to it - and I wasn't sure how to feel about that either; looking up at everyone still took me by surprise sometimes.
Ricky popped out of the crowd. "We still on for after school?"
I wasn't quite sure how it happened, but my lab had become the hangout spot for all my friends. It was kind of annoying to be honest because they got noisy, but they were really great friends, so how could I tell them that?
"Yeah, we're still on; at least, Mom hasn't texted me saying no." As with any new thing I made, my friends wanted to gather together to see it happen. Again, how could I tell them no? I felt watching me work should be losing its appeal by now. Maybe after this one, I guess.
"Awesome, come on." Ricky led the way down the hall, coincidentally parting the crowd for me. I hurried up, recent experience showing me I could get separated easily.
The crowd of usual suspects was already outside, waiting under the tree with Jeeves, who I was sure had both toes right on the school property line. That didn't really make much sense to me since he regularly was on school property without a problem, but for some reason when school let out he insisted on it.
"Hey, Min!" Maggie yelled, waving with both hands.
Sam's own wave was her standard little thing.
Ralph waited until he was sure I could hear him at his normal volume. "Hey, Min. You look bored."
I smirked. "To tears actually, but I'm all better now."
"Really? Usually takes at least the walk home to wake up after English class."
That was true. "Well, I never really claimed to be awake."
"Fair enough," Ralph admitted with a smile.
In fact, I felt pretty good today, but I was a little tired. Jeeves might end up needing to catch me again, which never got any less embarrassing. My friends never said anything when it happened, but they had to be thinking it. Speaking of, he was watching me like the proverbial hawk, ready to make his move.
There was a clear path behind me and to my right, where he was... my friends seemed to organize themselves to my left by some unspoken rule.
A glint ahead of me caught my eye; it was agent Sands in his car, tailing me by driving on ahead of us; sometimes it was ahead, sometimes behind, and sometimes it was a block to the right or left, but he was never too far. I knew there was a CIA watcher too, but they weren't revealed to a casual glance. I was pretty sure Sands could do that, but he wanted me to know that he was there.
We all made it home without incident unless you counted Ricky losing track of the basketball he was dribbling and having to chase after it. I felt the urge to ask how the team was doing since I'd missed a few games by this point, but I wasn't sure I really wanted to know. Our baseball team had lost at state, and I felt pretty guilty about that already. If I could have played, it probably would have been different.
Well, not as I am now of course, now I have the physical ability of a stone. But the old me could probably have changed the outcome.
Sigh, those days were gone though, gone forever.
An arm slipped around me, and a hand waved in front of my face, breaking my view of the ball. Sam gave me a gentle one-armed hug and a smile, then let go; a simple show of support. Did she know what I'd been thinking? She was pretty perceptive when she wanted to be. At least I think so, it was hard to tell for sure since none of us had ever really caught her at it.
"What's the matter, Min?" Maggie asked.
"Nothing, I was just thinking." I had to head off any speculation about something being wrong, or my friends would pester me until they learned what it was. And there wasn't anything really anything they could do about this one.
"Well, I know better than to ask you to stop doing that," Maggie replied with a grin. I gave her the best one I could back to allay any suspicions, but I don't think it was a very good one.
Maggie was distracted by Ricky running back to us. "None of you saw that, and I'll deny my ball handling skills are anything less than amazing if asked."
I turned into my driveway; in the distance, I could see Ian running down the street, no doubt to catch up to us. That was a little weird, he got out when we did, but he seemed fine and I saw no signs of pursuit so he was probably okay and just rushing to catch up to us.
I was tempted to just rush to the lab and turn the force field on to keep him out, but I had made a promise to the little fungus. Starting a new member of the family was hardly dangerous - well unless I based them off Hannibal Lecter or something, and that would just be stupid.
Of course much of their personality they came up with themselves, but none of mine were going to be ax murderers. Well, I was pretty sure. Great, now why did I have to think of that, especially now?
I led the way to the door, waited patiently for the retinal scan, and then the palm scan. The door clicked open and I shoved it aside, dropping my very heavy bag and into my very comfy chair with a sigh of relief. I was glad Jeeves hadn't tried to take the bag, I needed the exercise.
My friends came in behind me, taking up their own chairs, and a panting Ian slammed into the frame and then shut the door; that had to sting.
"Jeeves, can you get refreshments for us please?"
I jiggled my mouse as Jeeves started taking drink orders; it was going to be his last day doing stuff like this, so I was determined he enjoy it; starting tomorrow he would have new duties.
Jeanette was right where I left her. Text blinked as the computer fired up: "Creator? Are you there?"
"Yes," I typed back. "We are almost ready, we only need to do final checks now. Are you ready?"
"Oui" came the immediate response. Okay, the French was new; what brought that on?
"Crash!"
"Yes Ma'am?"
"Did you run final checks?" I turned to where I heard the voice; Crash was under the jet I'd made, a wrench in hand, staring at the underside of it.
"Yes Ma'am, just as you asked."
"Of Jeanette, not the jet?" I pressed. Why was he even under there anyway, the jet was in perfect working order.
"Yes, ma'am." Crash replied, lunging out from under the jet and to his feet.
I switched windows on my lap and ran the checks again, just to be sure. Remotely everything came back green, just as it had this morning.
Jeeves came back in, a platter of drinks in one hand and a plate of cookies in the other. The cookies looked like peanut butter - which was a favorite of mine. My drink turned out to be a canned ice cold coffee.
"Alright, a hand up please." I was a little embarrassed to ask, but I needed one if I was going to give Jeanette's body my personal attention, and I'd done it for all my others, so it seemed wrong to leave her out.
Jeeves obliged, and I made my way to the back corner, past the hanging curtain. It had also seemed wrong to just have Jeanette splayed out there for all to see; she was my first girl after all, and she was kinda based on me, body-wise. Well, she was taller than I was so I could pack more things into her frame, but her frame itself was just mine scaled up a little. It looked okay from what I could tell, and none of my friends had said anything... but then they hadn't seen the finished product yet either.
Just looking that sort of thing up was kind of weird and creepy, as if I was a stalker or internet weirdo or something, and I doubted that telling everyone 'I did it for science' would help if I was caught.
I checked all the connections and sent spikes of power through the body quadrants while my friends did something involving sound effects and good-natured yelling behind me. Video games I'd assume - and I really wanted to play myself, now that I thought about it.
No, focus, Jeanette deserves focus.
Last check and everything was green; all the minor improvements I'd thought of too late for Jeeves and Tex seemed to be working as intended. Jeanette would be my strongest and fastest yet, and since she didn't really look the part, it might give her an edge.
Back to my laptop, and the lab quieted. Everyone was looking at me.
"Just the final step now, I plug her in, and hit the upload button." When I did, Jeanette would go into her chip and any files relating to her personality would wipe itself from my drive, just like it had for Crash. I was serious about there being no copies of my bots.
I plugged Jeanette in and typed: "Ready here."
"I am ready here," she replied. "I shall see you on the outside, my creator."
I hit go and left the laptop on the table next to her. "Jeeves, can you monitor things here?"
Jeeves didn't complain. "Of course, mistress Min."
Okay, can I play a round? I've been getting better with Louis."
"Sure," Ricky, the current champion replied. "But Louis is a bad match up for Gnaw, and you know it."
Gnaw was his main character in the fighting game everyone was playing, and he was bullcrap. Stupid regenerating werewolf.
Ian handed me the other controller and I keyed in, dragging my chair up.
I lost of course. Stupid regenerating werewolf and his infinite combos. I handed Ian back the controller, and he promptly handed it off to Sam. Sam lost too, though she lasted longer than I did, and also handed the controller back to Ian. Ian promptly crushed Ricky with one of his off characters, making it look easy. Oh well, at least I could beat him in strategy games, and that really pissed him off for some reason.
I watched my friends play their rounds and fought to stay awake - at least until Jeeves came out.
"What are you doing out here?"
Jeeves had the grace to look apologetic. "Jeanette is awake, mistress Min, and she kicked me out in order to dress."
Oh, right. Jeanette was kind of made in response to the objection that Jeeves was visibly male it was perfectly within reason for her to make that kind of objection, even if she knew better. At least, I really hoped she knew better.
I was a little curious about what clothes she'd pick, since I left her some choice in the matter, comprised of some new stuff Jeeves had picked up, and some of Mom's old clothes. I'd get more for her once she decided and I better knew what she'd like.
The sounds of shifting movements were easy to hear with everyone being quiet and waiting.
"Jeanette, everything alright?"
"Everything is fine young Miss, all is working perfectly. I shall be out in a moment." Well, the French accent was new and unexpected.
A second later I was thinking how appropriate it was. Jeanette was taller than I and had straight long brown hair tied loosely into a ponytail with a ribbon, complete with a bow. Her delicate features looked somewhat like a doll's, and she looked older than us; I'd wanted her to look like an adult since people would be more inclined to trust her if she did. I'd done the same with Jeeves, I vaguely recalled. Her bright gray eyes latched onto my own and she grabbed the edges of her very prim and proper maid's uniform in order to curtsey.
"I am most pleased to meet you in person at last, young Miss. I am Jeanette, at your service."
Several pairs of jeans, shirts, blouses, and other clothes from this century... and she chose a turn of the century black maid's dress and patent leather shoes. She even had the white apron on over it! She wasn't cooking! Where had she even gotten... Jeeves. Jeeves had to have bought them somehow.
"Is that really what you want to wear?"
Jeanette rose fluidly. "But of course, young Miss. If you would, please, introduce me to your friends? It would be nice to put faces to the names."
Oops. "Oh, right. It'd be best to just point them out, as rude as that is. "That is Maggie or Margaret, that's Samantha, Ricky, Ralph, and Ian, my brother."
I felt I needed to tell her about Ian since Jeanette was designed to make finer distinctions between friends and family than Jeeves.
Jeanette nodded graciously. "But of course, Bonjour, how are you, young sir?"
So Ian was the young sir, and I was the young miss. Did I dare tell her to knock that off? Wait, no, there was something more important to ask here. Was that drool coming from Ricky's mouth, and why were both Ricky and Ralph staring like that?
"Dude, do you see that?" Ralph asked.
"I'm seeing it. I thought it was funny," Ricky replied. "The way the girls drooled, but man, Min can cook!"
"What are you even talking about?"
Maggie took a picture on her phone... of the boys. "See, I told you! That five bucks is mine."
My stomach sank. "What five bucks?"
"We had a bet, the guys and I... over how your new robot would look."
I shot a glance at Jeanette, standing impassively with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting for an order.
"What's wrong with her?" She looked fine to me, easily able to pass for human. What did I miss?
Maggie smirked. "Nothing! Nothing at all, that's the point. She's like a female version of Jeeves."
But she looked nothing like Jeeves! Well, maybe the eyes...
"No, not like that," Maggie clarified. "I meant she'd be a female version of Jeeves. You know, unbelievably hot. Not of this world hot."
"Eleven out of ten hot, and I don't even like brunettes," Ricky added, his voice small - awed?
But that made no sense, I used my own... oh crap.
"Min, whats the matter?"
"Body double," Sam said with a sly grin.
How did she even know? "Sh-shut up, she is not!"
She really wasn't - after all, she had been scaled up to match her height. But I'd started with my measurements, and the scale was accurate, and now Ralph was looking at me, clearly calculating it. I needed a distraction!
"So, Jeanette, why the... "
I turned and Jeanette was inches from me, staring into my eyes. She placed the back of her left hand on my head, which was important since that was where the medical diagnostic equipment was.
"You are flushed; are you well, young Miss?"
Best to tell the truth here. "A little tired actually. Why did you pick those clothes, out of all the choices you had?"
Jeanette looked down at her arm. "I preferred it. Am I not to be your maid?"
My robots were weird. "So you wanted to stand out?"
"Should I not?" She asked me.
"No, the choice is yours. If you're happy with a uniform, then I'll get you some more of them."
Well, the distraction seems to have worked, everyone was staring at Jeanette again rather than me. Though the drool thing was even more disturbing than before.
"Come, young Miss. Your work here is over for now, and some fresh air and exercise will do you good."
Jeanette was gentle, but she picked me up and set me on my feet regardless.
Right, she was in charge of taking care of me now. "Jeeves, could you see to dinner?"
"Of course, mistress Min." There was no hesitation or regret there, only acceptance.
Sam got close as Jeeves left, and gave me a little friendly bump, shoulder to shoulder. Jeanette allowed it; she even gave a ghost of a smile? Good, I hadn't 'tuned' her too tight. I guess I'd find out later what her tolerance for manhandling me was. I hope it wasn't too loose.
Jeanette took the lead: "Come, young Miss."
Jeanette was a little bossy.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," It was a good thing she had my best interests at heart. The evening took me by surprise. "Oh wow, it's dark already!"
it wasn't quite night, but the sun was well on its way down, and that meant I'd taken about two hours in final checks. I hadn't noticed the time, but that was pretty good. At least I think so, it's hard to say sometimes. Crash had taken around three hours.
Jeanette stopped by the pool, raised her arms, and inhaled loudly with a large grin. "Ah, smell that fresh air! This is wonderful, young Miss!"
I thought it smelled a bit like car exhaust from next door, with a hint of woodsmoke, but I guess to her it could be fresh. To a large city it probably was... but then again, it was her first breath of outside, so I could kind of understand Jeanette here.
"Yeah, it's nice Jeanette."
Maggie skipped ahead. "So, fresh air, huh?"
"Yes! To be followed by exercise!" Jeanette answered promptly.
I wasn't so sure about that last part.
Ricky was all for it, though. "Exercise huh? How about some hoops then? The park isn't far."
I really didn't feel like it. "It's getting dark."
"The park's lit. Come on, Min, let's play some horse or something."
I could almost hear the 'like we used to' in there. Sam gave me another bump and a smile.
"It's nice to spend time in your lab Min, don't get me wrong... but the park is also nice this time of year, I hear." Maggie quipped. It was a bad quip.
Was that what this was about? Did Jeanette think I was spending too much time in my lab? Did everyone else think that? I mean it seemed Maggie did, but... if that was true, why hadn't anyone said so before?
"Fine, whatever. Horse it is."
Sam rolled her eyes, and Maggie was quick to protest: "Hey come on, don't be like that Min. Its a nice day... or night out."
It really was, if a little cold. I buttoned my coat up but took a deep breath; this far from the house there was no scent of woodsmoke, and the air was crisp. Luckily our park wasn't all that far away. I elected not to go first and took a seat on the park bench closest the court while Ricky and Sam took shots to see who would go first.
Jeanette took a seat beside me, her eyes away from the action.
"I am not as Jeeves is," she said softly. "I realize you are not well, but I intend to push you."
"I can deal, so long as you listen to me. I'm not at my best right now, for example."
"I know," she admitted back. "and I intend to play this game of horse against you, and to have you walk home afterward. You do not need to be coddled, and so I will not."
Well, I appreciated her honesty. "And if I command you to pick me up and carry me home?"
"I will, of course. I cannot refuse a command from my creator, as you well know. But I will be disappointed."
Ralph got close enough to listen in, but I had enough to think about.
It surprised me that I cared what Jeanette thought of me.
I remembered just in time to send a text to Mom, telling her where I was and who I was with. I didn't want her worrying. The message I got back was "OK", which was a little terse. Mom was probably busy with something.
Ricky won his game, and he and a pouting Sam ceded the court. Jeanette jumped up and took the ball. "I would like to play."
I levered myself up. "Know the rules?"
"I learned them from the previous game," Jeanette answered, taking her shot to see who would go first - she sank it easily, from downtown range, with picture perfect form on the shot.
I was probably in trouble.
I missed mine, which meant she went first and I was definitely in trouble.
Jeanette sank her last shot as the park lights clicked on, but at least I hadn't been blown out of the game. I sank back down to the bench as Ricky and Sam popped up again; Ralph and Maggie's embarrassment was already well underway on the other side of the court.
The world was spinning, slowly, and I couldn't help but think there should be more of it than there was. I wondered briefly where Ian was; had he left, or had he just not come with us? Some big brother I was, to misplace him. Or big sister. Or not so big sister; I was kind of tiny.
"Still with us, young Miss?"
Jeanette was concerned. "Sure. I'm here."
I really wanted to sleep though. Oh hey, everyone was here now, were the games over already? It was dark outside the patches of light the really bright halogens made. Squinting worked for the light, but not that.
"Can you walk, young Miss?"
"Sure!" I wobbled a little but stayed up.A shake of my head cleared it enough for me to make out concern... or maybe it was the blood rush. "I'm fine."
"Well, just the same, I'll walk you home," Ralph stated.
"WE will walk you home," Ricky said with a mild glare in Ralph's direction.
"I appreciate it. Being left alone with my CIA and MCO escorts sounds kind of frightening."
Sam actually nodded at that; I guess sarcasm was a little lost on the crowd at the moment.
I managed ten steps, then another two, the chatter of my friends flowing around me. I could do this, home wasn't that far away.
Then came a familiar sensation - I was being lifted. "An admirable effort, young Miss, but alas, illness has won the battle this evening."
I wanted to argue, but now that I was being cradled more blood was reaching my brain, and I was rendered speechless by some of the stupid things I'd been thinking. So that was what pressing things got me - I didn't like it.
"Sorry."
"No need to be sorry, young Miss."
My friends were chatting about music, a perfectly normal conversation; they were looking at each other, and not me. At least not directly.
They weren't trying to make this any more awkward than it was; I had great friends.
we reached my door and all eyes turned to me. Still, nothing was said about the fact that I was being carried bridal style by my new robot. I guess they had just gotten used to Jeeves. Instead, there was a chorus of good nights as my friends turned and left, still in a group.
I approved of that because it would be much more dangerous without Jeanette present. For her part, Jeanette managed to open the door without shifting me and walked in as if she'd done all this before.
Mom was waiting as we passed through the foyer. "You alright Min?"
Great. "Just fine, Mom. A little tired is all."
Despite my hopes, Mom moved out and followed us down the hall. "So... this is her?"
Jeanette didn't answer, so I did for her. "Yeah Mom, this is Jeanette. Jeanette, this is my Mom."
Jeanette swung around smoothly, stopped, and bowed without dropping me. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Campbell. I will be your new maid, please be patient with me."
Mom stopped and drew herself up. "Well, polite as Jeeves I see. How else are you like him?"
It was time to step in before things got out of hand. "That's about it actually. Jeanette is tougher, and cannot refuse a direct order from one of us unless doing so would put us in danger. She also can't lie to any of us. And on that note, hello, I'm still in your arms Jeanette and I still feel terrible."
"Ah, right you are young Miss." She resumed carrying me to my room.
"Wait Min, what about dinner? Jeeves worked very hard on it."
I wasn't hungry. I was too tired and too dizzy to be hungry. "I'll eat it when I wake up Mom, sorry!"
Well, I would unless it was breakfast time and Jeeves made me something else.
Somehow Jeanette opened my door without jarring me - again - and placed me gently on my bed. Some sort of sleight of hand later, and I was under my covers, warming up.
Jeanette shited my hair away so I wouldn't tear it out if I shifted in my sleep, which was a good thing since I really couldn't move very well at the moment. "Thanks."
Her face colored a bit; had I designed that in? "It is I who should be thank you, young Miss. You seem to be stable; sleep well."
She said that like she was leaving! "Will you stay with me? It's what I designed you for, after all."
Jeanette folded her dress under her and settled into my desk chair. "Of course. I believe Jeeves capable of bringing refreshments without my assistance."
"Thanks," I told her.
She picked up one of my books - not the textbooks, but a fiction book filled with magic and wizards and swords, and started reading. "You are quite welcome; but as I said, it is I who should be thanking you, my creator. Please rest now, I will care for you."
I felt as warm within as without as I drifted off.
I woke up to the smells of food and chirping birds. Hot food, not cold, the difference was a subtle one, but I knew it was. The coffee was a dead giveaway after all.
"Good morning, young Miss." Jeanette greeted me, as soon as I shifted. She had a book in her hands, (which wasn't the same book she had last night) but she was looking right at me. She hadn't appeared to have moved at all since last night, but surely she had, right?
"Good morning Jeanette. What time is it?" It was always best to ask.
"It is 9:43 AM, young Miss. How do you feel?" Her hand met my forehead again; it was a little cool.
"Pretty good, I... wait, nine?!? What about school?"
Jeanette raised an eyebrow. "It is Saturday, young Miss. You chose to activate me on a Friday, which proved a sound decision. Come, up you go. Please eat some of this delicious looking breakfast."
Other rising and helping me sit up, Jeanette didn't move. Instead she chose to hover over me while I looked over the offering for the day; Eggs, bacon, sausage, toast, cooked mushrooms, a tomato that looking like it had been grilled of all things, and strawberries.
That was... different. Had Jeeves made this? It didn't seem like him.
"Oh, Jeanette, you can go about your other duties now. Sorry for being a little selfish last night."
I felt kind of stupid for apologizing, and Jeanette set about making me feel worse immediately.
"You ARE my duty first and foremost, young Miss. There is no need to say such words to my humble self, as I only exist to serve you."
Oh Jeanette, I built you for so much more than serving me... was what I wanted to say. But I knew how that conversation would go. My new maid continued with a beaming smile:
"However, there are lesser duties I may perform, and I should be about them. Please do call if I am needed, young Miss."
She didn't wait for me to put the coffee down, but left. Why was dealing with new bots so hard? It shouldn't be this hard - I mean, should I have said something more there, or not? Why were my own bots giving me social anxiety?
The breakfast was good, but it was spiced a little differently; there were onions in it. I had a suspicion that Jeeves hadn't been cooking alone today. That was fine, but how had she done it without leaving my side? My orders were explicit. Had she begun to interpret them already - taking things less literally? Jeeves managed to, but he still had some issues with it sometimes.
The less said of Crash in that regard the better.
A knock on the door signalled the return of Jeanette, just as I finished up. Not that I'd eaten everything, there had been way too much for that, but I couldn't eat another bite. Still, I had made a credible attempt at shoveling it all in while lost in thought; hungrier than I thought, I guess.
"Young Miss, I have drawn a bath for you."
"Thank you," a nice hot bath did sound nice. Preferably a long one, until someone kicked me out of it. Which, knowing Ian, wouldn't be that long, but I'd take what I could get.
I was in last night's clothes, which was a trend that could not continue, if for no other reason than Mom would notice I wasn't dirtying them. Then she'd say we needed to talk, and things would go downhill from there.
The bath was indeed drawn... and absolutely filled with bubbles and who knew what else. The water wasn't even clear, it was pink! Pink! There were things floating in it! It had a smell!
"Jeanette, what did you put in this?"
My new maid (it helped to remember she was new) scuffed one heel of her hard shoe against the other. "I used bubble bath, of course. Rose petals, and a few products designed to promote skin health."
"Think you might have used too much?" I asked her. Where had she even got all this crap? She'd only been awake seventeen hours! I mean we had bubble bath before, but none of the rest of this.
Jeanette shook her head. "I used the amount recommended on the labels. Please undress, young Miss."
"That's not what I meant, exactly. are all these supposed to be used together?"
Her answer came without a second of hesitation. "All that I have used may be safely combined with no risk of harm. Now please, strip. Your mother will be cross with us if bath water is wasted."
Well, she had me there. But again, awake seventeen hours, and she already knew what would tick Mom off. Jeanette had been busy somehow.
Jeanette was making no move to leave. Right, this was what I had made her for, kind of. I did as asked and stepped in; it was just a hair under too hot, and a little greasy to the feel.
I closed my eyes and laid back. It felt nice.
Then I felt hands on me, and shot upright. Jeanette leaped back almost faster than I could follow and managed to avoid getting drenched; then she moved back in. "Is something amiss, young Miss? Is the bath not to your liking?"
"No, it's fine... I just didn't expect you, um, doing that. Whatever you were doing."
"I was made to help you in places such as these, young Miss. I was attempting to help you wash. Specifically your hair."
Why my hair? "Ah. You should have warned me, I had my eyes closed. I can wash myself though, your only duty here is to make sure I don't end up drowning if I pass out. Anyway, I want to soak first."
"Alright. However, when the time comes, I can at least help with your back."
That was a fair point; no one ever could wash their own back well, and I didn't want it to break out or anything.
I don't know when she snuck up on me again, but the water was still a shade off hot so it couldn't have been long. Then again, I was getting dizzy, and I didn't think it was from my normal health problems.
"Young Miss, you should start soon if you intend to clean yourself."
I wanted to, but my everything was jello, so very relaxed....
"I'm afraid I must insist, young Miss."
"Fine." I got busy.
It wasn't at all creepy to have my own maid watching me intently while doing all this.
Body and hair washed, the time came for my back, and she was right there, her hands gentle.
I wobbled slightly getting up, and all it took for her to steady me was an arm. While the other arm produced a towel. I took it and did my thing while she stepped back and watched.
Though she wasn't silent. "Immersion in water as hot as your bath for extended periods has been known to cause dizziness and nausea in humans."
"Well I don't feel any nausea at least," I could at least take that worry off her mind. "Why did you make it that hot, anyway? And how? I don't think our water heater goes up that high for safety reasons."
Jeanette gave me a good stare. "Maid magic. It was relaxing, no?"
It was relaxing, yes.
"I have laid out clothing for you." Jeanette told me, pointing to the sink where some of my more comfortable jeans and shirt (blouse, it was called a blouse, and I had no idea why it was called such even now) lay.
"Yes Jeanette, I saw them. Why are you changing the subject? How did you do it?"
I would not be so easily swayed!
She sighed, loudly enough to make it clear that she was doing it for effect. "I simply boiled water in amounts calculated to bring your bath to the proper temperature. Your water heater cannot safely support a rise in temperature that high, even should I manage to disable the safety mechanisms. No, your household does not need a new water heater."
Way to crush my dreams, Jeanette.
She cocked her head at me. "You don't know, do you? You really do not know."
The easy amiable expression slid off her face, and I could tell she was burning with anger.
"What's wrong? What don't I know?"
"It has just come to my attention that we need to have a conversation, young Miss. About certain details regarding your condition you do not yet know. Perhaps this discussion is best conducted downstairs, over coffee?" She was still seething, but it wasn't at me.
I was kind of glad she wasn't seething at me, she could snap me in half if she wanted.
Jeanette barely waited for me to get my clothes on before opening the door and striding down the hall. I managed to catch up at the base of the stairs.
We made it to the kitchen, and the smell of fresh coffee within. "Please seat yourself," Jeanette made it sound more like an order than a request. Then she raised her voice and fixed my butler with her gaze. "Jeeves, a moment of your time?"
Jeeves had his arms elbows deep in soapy water and only a few dishes before him, but it was enough. His reply was calm. "Of course Jeanette; what do you need?"
"I need you to explain to our creator how her illness and power are connected, and why you've yet to clue her into said connection."
Jeeves stopped; literally ground to a halt, for a good half a second; more than long enough for anyone to catch it. Then he grabbed the dish towel and turned to look at us.
His response made me wince. "She did not ask for any clarifications on her medical condition, and so I did not provide any."
Jeanette's gloves all but popped as she flexed her fists. "And did you not...."
"What's going on here?" Mom asked, entering from the living room, no doubt following the sound of raised voices. Well, one raised voice anyway.
"I am attempting to question why my... predecessor never explained certain facts to the young Miss. His explanation seems lacking thus far."
Mom pulled up a chair and reversed it, sitting down and fixing Jeeves with a stare I wouldn't want directed at me. "Oh? Do tell."
"Jeanette, coffee please." Maybe if my maid was getting busy she would calm down, even if only for a minute or two.
"Of course young Miss." She instantly moved to obey, but did not let Jeeves off the hook. "Jeeves, care to explain what we know of our creator's health?"
Jeeves spilled the beans. "Without your regeneration mistress Min, you would undoubtedly be dead."
Well that was... bleak. It was true that without my regeneration I wouldn't have survived what was a very stressful change in biology, but that was past. Wasn't it? No, don't jump to conclusions.
"What do you mean?"
"Your biology is unique among humans, mistress Min. Your brain uses far more resources under normal operating conditions, to great effect. When you - create, you can and often use even more resources than is normal for you, as well as generating more heat. This leads to drastic depletion of vitamins, minerals, and heavy metals your body needs to survive, as well as fluids, creating an anemic state."
Wait, my worst weaknesses were caused by my thinking? My brain was my own worst enemy?
"In addition, the heat generated by the increased electrical activity has a deleterious effect, breaking down the cells of your brain over time," Jeeves continued blandly, as if he wasn't crushing my world. "Without your regeneration, you would undoubtedly die as a result."
Jeanette said some things in French I was pretty sure were swear words. "You have no tact, fool." She finally said in English before turning to me, and just like that her anger was gone and her tone gentle. "That is why your diet is important - to replenish what you lose from thinking. It is also why your hair is so important."
What? How did my hair factor into this? "What about my hair?"
Yes, let's talk about how my hair is weird. That will undoubtedly distract me from the fact that my brain was apparently melting itself from the inside out, cell by cell, regularly. That sort of thing wasn't creepy nightmare fuel at all.
Mom was on one side, and Jeanette was on the other. "Hey, honey, it's okay. You're fine."
Which was matched by the far more relevant. "Your health is not in danger, young Miss. You seem to be... insulated from the worst effects of your condition."
I knew what she meant. She knew what I was thinking, and she was telling me I would not lose myself and wake up one day another person, or even worse, half of a person. That somehow, my memories and person did not change. I did not believe her.
"Mom, quick, what's my first memory? The first thing that you remember that I told you I remember."
Mom knew too, I could see it in her mortification. She was worried I'd get it wrong.
She didn't hesitate though. "The time we went to the zoo. You were three, and you fed a Llama your cotton candy, and almost got us thrown out. You laughed the entire time."
I remembered that. It was after I tried to talk to the monkeys. It wasn't the only memory from that time, and might not even be the first, but I did remember it. If that one was still there and more besides, then it was highly unlikely my memories were getting erased.
Now how would that work? No! Now of all times was not the time to be distracted. I could breathe again, and wasted no time putting the breath to use.
"You're right, I think."
"If anything, you should regain more memories, old and new." Jeanette informed me. I was going to ask her soon how she knew all this stuff.
I pinned Jeeves with a stare. He'd known all this too? "So, my hair?"
"Your hair is not just an unusual color," my maid explained. "It is of unusual construction as well. The material is unusual as well, not simply keratin, but a form of that substance which, when combined with the structure of your hair, draws heat and traps it within. It acts as a form of thermal regulation beyond the normal for humans, and reduces the damage which could be caused. That is why Jeeves was opposed to you cutting it, as more hair draws more heat."
"But wouldn't that leave me... sonova, that's why I'm always cold all the time!"
"One of the reasons, yes. Perhaps even the greatest one." Jeanette answered. Then she pulled out a brush and I surrendered to the inevitable with a sigh.
"That's so terribly inefficient. In order to shed heat part of the time from my head I have to be cold all of the time, because my best mechanisms for it can't discriminate."
"Nature is often thus," Jeanette opined. "What is best in Earth's preserve is often the first solution, not the best solution. Nature can be brilliant, but blind."
"A little early in your life to be waxing poetic, isn't it?" Mom asked her.
Jeanette scoffed. "Hardly that. I am simply pointing out the many shortcomings of biology." Her brush was slow and steady, just as Jeeves's had been.
I could hardly agree more with her at the moment, and I wasn't sure I liked that. It was true though; being cold wasn't the same as being dead, and if my brain melted out of my ears, I'd be very dead. Nature was all about being alive long enough to reproduce, and my issues were... odd, but viable, if only just. Knowing about it all would certainly have helped things along.
Jeeves was in for a rough time.
"So, now I know."
"Now we know," Mom interrupted with a hug.
"Now we know," I corrected. "So what happens now?"
Jeanette didn't stop, even as Jeeves froze for a second before coming back. Has he always done that? I didn't think he did. "Whatever you wish happens now, happens. Knowledge is power, it is said, and knowledge of how to manage your condition, of how we your loyal androids manage your condition, can only help you in the future."
Now was the right time to ask: "How did you know though?"
"Observation and deduction, mostly. Jeeves observed your health and investigated the causes, and all of us share information with each other."
"But...." Jeeves hadn't had any specialized medical training, or any specialized training for that matter; Jeanette was the nurse, for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was no money or other resources for it.
"We are very good at learning, young Miss. Even the least of us." Jeanette told me softly, running the brush through my hair a final time.
Until Jeeves spoke up for the first time since his secrets were revealed. "No less than fifty strokes is proper, Maid Jeanette. A full hundred strokes are best for proper hair care."
My maid looked up, her gaze what I could only consider as murderous. Then in a blink, her face was passive as she admitted. "You are correct."
The strokes continued.
"Can you do braids, Jeanette?" At least I could get the crap collected and out of my way; all I would need is to be working on the jet and have my hair get caught in the intake or something.
"I can, but it might be best for your condition if your hair was left loose. Your butler was to run experiments to that effect, however he has no results listed as yet."
Well, no messing around in engines for me - just perfect. So much for a nice relaxing Saturday. Not that I was going to have one now, but it was the thought that counted.
"Jeeves, I need a refill. Then you can get back to those dishes." Getting my coffee and doing my chores was the least that Jeeves was on the hook for, no matter what Mom might say about building character.
From the looks of it though, Mom and I were in complete agreement.
If she wasn't going to bring up the fact that she was still hugging me, I wasn't going to bring it up either.
My maid had no problem with that however. "Mrs. Campbell, if you would please sit I'll brush your hair as well, just as soon as I've finished here."
"Well that sounds like a nice offer; I can't remember the last time I've been treated."
Okay, that was bull. "Didn't you go to your hairdresser just last month?"
Mom didn't even turn to me or drop her smile. Her words came grudgingly from between gritted teeth. "Shut up, honey."
I kept my grin hidden. I'd scored a point, but smiling would tempt fate.
I took a sip of my refill. "So what's the plan for today?"
"Not much. Louge around the house, eat too much, watch stupid T.V. and generally relax. Work's been awful this week."
I could second that, it was almost like she'd gone back to full time. "Yeah they've been running you ragged lately."
"It should get better after this week; we just had to return some favors at the school." Mom replied, leaning back and putting her feet up on the empty chair next to her with a sigh. Behavior she'd be yelling at me for.
I fought down the guilty feelings; I knew I was the reason Mom had to work more - between the new bills and all the favors Mom and Dad called in to make sure I wasn't dying, I'd cost my family plenty.
"Hey," Mom's gentle punch to the arm was less gentle than she thought, probably. "Want to watch a movie with me?"
Mom liked romantic comedies. "Uh...."
"Come on, it'll be fun! We can have ice cream!"
"Depends. Your kind of movie, or mine?"
"How about one of each? We have time." She answered.
That was four hours outside of school or the lab, when there was so much to build - but Mom was asking, and we hadn't just hung out in a month. Maybe even longer. And maybe I shouldn't be in a hurry to melt my brain down today.
Then I had an epiphany, like lightning from a clear sky directly into my head. "My brain overclocks!"
"It does what now?" Mom asked, clearly confused.
"It, well it acts like some of the new computer processors and... no, nevermind, it's not important. Sure, I'd love to watch a movie or two and just relax."
My maid was less than thrilled. "I do not approve of such lack of activity on your part, young Miss. However, we may make up for such lost time at a later date."
"Sure," Like ten years from now, perhaps. "But what are we going to watch? Unless you want to go rent the movies, we've seen everything we own."
"Well that's a no-go," Mom replied, lifting up her crossed feet in a show of laziness. "But we can send Jeeves with a list, and he can walk to the place. It's not far."
"Alright, a list of five movies from each of us, Jeeves rents one of each from the lists we make?"
"Sure," Mom answered. "I can live with that."
Heh. She was getting at least one action movie then, something as mindless as I could manage, like a dead hard sequel... shame we had seen all those already.
"Where's Ian?" I had to ask, seeing as he hadn't shown up while we were yelling.
Mom smirked. "Father-son bonding time. They were in the garage going over the engine of that second wife of his."
Sharp pangs of fear. "Why, did something break? Did it..."
"No Min, "Mom interrupted. "The car is fine, it's running like a top. But your father wants to show Ian why it's running so well, and how to keep it that way."
Well, it was about time for Ian to learn; I was a bit younger when Dad started teaching me, but not by much. Knowing Ian, it was probably driving him crazy to be away from his computer for so long. I kind of missed it myself.
Speaking of long, it was past eleven! I'd slept forever!
"How do I keep sleeping so long?!? No, never mind, don't answer that." My androids had basically just explained that, after all; I pass out and heal while unconscious. Or for a variety of other reasons, really.
Jeeves helpfully provided a small notebook (empty) and a pen. I wrote down my choices and passed it over. Mom wrote hers and passed it directly back to Jeeves along with a twenty and her video membership card.
"I want the change back, Jeeves."
"Of course," Jeeves said with a bow. Then he turned to me. "By your leave, mistress Min."
"By all means, please go get us those movies."
"I'll not be long." Jeeves promised as he left.
Mom sighed. "I knew there was something he wasn't telling us."
"Jeeves is a marvel of technology," my resident marvel of technology opined. "However there are clearly flaws caused by a lack of time and good materials. Like baking a cake, substandard ingredients can ruin the mix."
Mom's eyes narrowed. "So you're saying you aren't hiding anything from us?"
"Of course I am," Jeanette replied. "I can also say without doubt that the two further secrets I keep from you all is one that should be kept, for your own safety. I am capable of making such discernments more easily than my predecessor."
"How bad?" Mom asked. Did she mean how bad the secret was?
Jeanette seemed to take it that way. "Life altering at best. I can say however that the lack of knowledge will harm none. I know you have concerns... they are unfounded."
What concerns?
"I'll be the judge of that, but we can let it go for now. Want to join in on our ladies day?"
My maid picked at her dress with a hand. "I believe my presence is required as part of my new job, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless."
"Well you could always be stuck in the kitchen facing a corner. I've done that sort of thing to rambunctious kids before."
Time-outs sucked. "No need for all that; she's officially invited, after all."
Jeanette blinked, giving Mom a look. Mom smiled, and it wasn't one of her nice ones. "I suppose it is for the best that I am invited after all."
An easy silence broken only by the whisk of a brush sliding easily through hair went on for a few minutes. I sipped my coffee and wondered where my phone was; it was probably upstairs, with a hundred messages on it from my friends wondering why I wasn't up.
I knew if I asked, Mom would be less than happy with me.
"Task completed," my maid stated, putting her brush into a pocket. If you didn't know, you wouldn't be able to tell it was there.
Mom hopped up with more than a little bubbly energy. "Great, thanks!"
Jeanette looked over as Mom started off, and I put a finger to my lips. Then mimed putting a phone to my ear and shrugged. She got it almost immediately, a sparkle in her eye (which was probably a spark of electricity) as she nodded understanding. She pointed upstairs and just as quickly reverted back to her usual posture as Mom looked back at us.
Mom saw none of it."Come on, let's wait in here. The couch is much better than those chairs."
That was the truth.
"Alright, it'll probably be another fifteen or twenty minutes. Hey Jeanette, can you please get a book from my room? Anything will be fine."
"Of course," came the expected answer in the expected way, as my maid bowed and went to do my bidding.
"Good call. I could probably stand to read a little myself." I was half glad my Mom didn't tell me to get my own book, and stop relying on others.
I mimed my phone again as Jeanette passed me, and she gave me a miniscule nod.
Mom sat at the right end of the couch, her favored side, so I took the left. Her book, some fantasy thing with a shirtless guy that had to be a bodybuilder on the cover. She also threw her feet up on the coffee table with another loud sigh as she cracked it open and began to read.
She was fully engrossed by the time Jeanette came down, a book on the finer points of programming in one hand, and my phone palmed in the other. She passed both along, using one to hide the other. I looked, and my enterprising maid had turned my phone on vibrate first, and muted all notifications just to be sure. She was surprisingly good at sneaky stuff it seemed, considering her earlier honesty.
"Min, I see that. Put it down."
Busted. I was not as good, it seemed. "I'm just checking my texts Mom, Maggie and Sam were supposed to be coming over today."
As expected, there were more than a few messages, the expected ones from Maggie and Sam, and a few from Ricky. Only one from Ralph, which was nice, but all were variations on the same theme: what are you doing? Can we come over?
It was odd, thinking back on it; when had my house become the default meeting place?
"Well...." Mom started.
"I know Mom, they aren't invited. I'm just telling them to make other plans." I knew mom just wanted a family day, at least for now.
"Alright, but after that it stays in sight; I know what you can do on that thing."
"I assure you, work is the farthest thing from my mind right now."
I composed the text: "Mom has kidnapped me today, don't send help or you might end up drafted. I'll be away from my phone so expect no further responses."
My friends list wasn't that large, so I could freely hit send to all and have it work as intended. I no sooner set the phone on the table in front of Mom than it started dancing; for a good solid minute it seemed. Finally it danced right off and hit the floor.
Mom made no move to retrieve it, so I left it there. Jeanette went for it, but a look from Mom had her backing off. She contented herself with sitting in Dad's favorite chair; judging from the faint smile it was to her liking. She was developing preferences, and testing boundaries already. So precocious, not that I really cared. If anyone else did, they would get an earful... even my parents.
Someone knocked politely on the door, three sharp taps. Jeanette was out of the chair before I could get my feet down, and she strode to the door with purpose.
Jeeves lay on the other side of it, a movie in each hand. "Thank you Jeanette. I have returned, and I was not followed."
Why would Jeeves be followed? Jeeves was just Jeeves.
My maid answered with one word: "Good."
"So what did you get?" I was kind of pumped to see a new action flick, and when Jeeves held out the latest Die Hard movie I almost lost it; that was about as perfect as it got.
The other movie, the one held out to Mom, was "The princess bride."
We'd seen that one before. "Really, Mom?"
"Really Min. We'll watch yours first, but this is the movie that I wanted to see."
I shrugged. "Whatever, it's your dime."
"Jeeves, go tell the men not to come in before two. Lunch will be ready by then."
Jeeves gave Mom a look, and immediately turned to me. "Go ahead and do it please."
Jeeves left immediately and I heard the door to the garage open.
"I really hate that thing," Mom muttered.
"He's protective of me, and doesn't want to be far away without cause."
"I know," she answered. "But the fact is he can't discern the situation or read the room. "I'm glad you made a replacement."
Jeeves was fine, but now was not the time to argue the point; it would ruin the day. Some fights you just couldn't win.
"Now, Jeanette, would you load up the first movie please?" Mom asked. Jeanette moved to comply of course, because she would obey Mom as long as no order countermanded an order of mine or her standing morals.
I doubted Mom would tell Jeanette to kill anyone, but if so, my maid wouldn't listen; we'd discussed how killing was wrong as I programmed her kernel. Not that she didn't do most of the work.
No, no work thoughts! At least a few hours without any of that! The movie successfully started, we three settled in to watch.
Birds woke me this time, to a dewy predawn with sunlight just barely showing itself outside my window. Everything was still dark enough to be just contrasting shadows.
Jeanette was waiting, steaming coffee on a saucer held in one gloved hand. "Good morning young Miss. Breakfast will be ready in but a moment. I hope the hour finds you well."
I sat up and took the offering. "It does. Good morning, Jeanette. How did you know?"
"Your biological processes are no mystery to me, young Miss. The time in which you will wake is simple to deduce. In fact you made it easy by retiring early."
"Ugh, don't remind me." I'd pretty much wasted the entirety of yesterday, and while it was fun at the time, I was regretting it now. Wait, what did Jeanette mean? I sincerely hoped she didn't mean all my 'biological processes'. That would be beyond embarrassing.
However, it was probably better for my sanity not to ask. I downed the coffee and passed the dishes back.
I made a grab for the clothes Jeanette held out for me to wear, another comfortable choice of jeans, this time with a light sweater. Jeanette did not let go, instead raising an eyebrow. "You are not cleaning yourself this morning?"
"I didn't do anything yesterday, so I'm not dirty or sweaty. And even if I am, its Sunday and I'm not planning to do anything major, so it doesn't matter."
Jeanette sighed but released her grip; I wasted no time getting dressed but stopped her when she held out my coat. "Save that for the moment, I still need to go to the bathroom."
"Of course" was the reply I got, with the undertone of infinite but tried patience. That tone of voice was quite a trick, how had she managed to learn it so quickly? Had she been taking pointers from Mom?
I shut the door to the bathroom, and my maid did not object. After I'd done my dirty deeds and washed my hands, I found her still out there waiting, with my coat outstretched, a slight smile still on her face.
I put my hands through the sleeves and noticed the difference immediately; even with a sweater on, I'd been a little cold. Jeanette pulled my hair free of the garment, and my back started warming immediately.
I should have paid more attention to these little tells earlier, they were obvious, in hindsight.
Jeeves was cooking in the kitchen, and the breakfast looked to be one of his. Was that an avocado half with a fried egg in it? That bacon looked absolutely free of fat, and the wheat toast had some weird hash marks on it.
Jeanette filled my cup again, adding the exact amount of cream and sugar I liked before placing it and the saucer back down at my place setting with a grace that made me a little self-conscious.
I picked at the concoction on my plate with a fork; what had actually possessed people to make such a thing? It was baked together, it looked like, and still hot. How long had Jeeves been at this? The oven was still on, so at least one other batch of this was probably being made.
I quit playing and took a bit while my bots looked on. This was... weird, but very good. I'd have thought a crispy avocado would taste bad, but it didn't at all, and the egg added something. Just what, I wasn't sure, but it did.
Jeeves placed some strawberries in a bowl next to the plate. They looked fresh, and that couldn't be right. It wasn't the season.
I gave him a look but all he said was "Trust me."
The strawberries added more, and by eating the bacon immediately after the rest, the collection of tastes was intense. The toast served as an adequate palette cleanser.
I guess Jeeves saw me brighten, because he smiled - and I could see the reflection of Jeanette frowning at me from our shiny metal toaster as she began brushing my hair.
"So, I'm feeling like a lab day," I informed them both.
"Of course," Jeeves answered. Jeanette merely hmm'd and kept brushing.
That was fine. As long as neither came up with a direct counter to the idea, they could disapprove all they wanted. Besides, I felt bad for leaving Crash alone for the day. I also needed to check up on him to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. Crash was impulsive, after all.
I finished everything and shoved my plate away, a clear signal I was done. Outside the sun had finally finished rising and I realized I'd left my glasses upstairs.
Or not; Jeanette held them out to me as she pocketed her brush. Jeeves took my plate and started scraping it clean.
I had nothing chore-like to do, so there was nothing left to do. I snagged my coffee and headed out, making sure to lock the door behind me. My keys weren't really necessary, Jeeves could let me back in, but I felt them in my coat pocket next to my phone.
Jeanette had been right, it was cold and would probably become a nice fall day. For now though it was too cold for me, and I scanned myself in the lab with more than a little haste.
The lab was a bit warmer and everything looked to be in its proper place; the engine hadn't been fired recently either, which was a plus.
Crash was leaning over my workstation and - was he drooling? Was he asleep?
"Crash?"
He jumped, then jumped up. "Oh crea- Miss Campbell! How are you?!?"
"I'm good today, how are you Crash? Were you sleeping?"
Crash wiped a hand across his mouth as he answered. "I was um, conserving power in a sleep cycle, yes. You programmed us all with it."
That sounded like an accusation. "Yes, but I didn't program the pose in. It looked very natural. What were you working on?"
There was a notebook under where he had laid his head, and a few pencils, one broken. He'd drawn a blueprint there.
"I was designing a better safety harness for you, for when you move beyond the test stages. The one you have in the jet will likely break your bones in the event of a crash. Not enough padding."
Well that was true; A more rugged person would likely be ok, but my bones were probably the size of toothpicks so it was a concern. "Oh? What's your answer?"
"See these packs here, and here, and here?" Crash pointed them out in case I hadn't. "They will be filled with a powder that converts to a gel when it hits air. the packs are set to rupture in the event of a sudden stop-like movement, kind of like car airbags, and the gel will expand under the straps and take the impact. There is another strip I'll put on your helmet, so any head injuries will be negligible."
I didn't even know Crash knew the word negligible. "That's impressive. How far did you get?"
"Well, the design is ready for testing, and the gel. I'm fairly sure it'll work, but I didn't get around to that part yet."
He waited for me, I just knew it. "For the best I think. Well, if you say you're ready you can do it all now; just be careful around the printer, it always acts a little hungry around you guys."
"Don't I know it. Thanks."
I shrugged and took a seat. A sip of coffee while my laptop powered up and scanned me, and I was back in, running aerodynamic models on the jet. Everything looked okay so far and the tests had gone well, but there was still something to check.
It wasn't actually just a jet, after all. Right now the tests were to determine what would happen if the jet's aerodynamic profile and surfaces were to suddenly change.
What could I say? I was a sucker for the classics. I knew my friends would get a kick out of it too. Crash's gel, if it worked, would have a place in the system. If it was clear, that would be even better, I'd just layer it in the spots most likely to need it.
It might have other uses, too.
My phone rang. It was Ricky. "Hi min, you awake?"
An irresistible urge overtook me. "No."
He sputtered on the other line before I laughed and ruined it. "Oh, not cool. I thought maybe you'd answered half asleep or something."
"Nope, I've been up for hours now. Had a restful night." A stab of a pencil started the next model attempt; the last was close, but a slight wobble remained that I didn't like.
"So you're free? I can come on over?"
"Sure, I'm in the lab," I checked the time. "Though you've missed breakfast so you might want to eat first."
"How did you...?"
Silly. "Just a guess. One you just proved me right on."
"Alright, be there in twenty."
"See you then." No sooner had I put the phone down than it chimed again, this time with a text: "Hope U R up, cause we R otw." Proclaimed Maggie's number.
After a quick cringe at the grammar, I fired a text back that I was at the lab, but there was no breakfast. "Jeanette, we have guests on the way. Some coffee and tea would be welcome."
"Of course, young Miss."
She left, and it was just Crash and I. "So Crash, how close do you think we are?"
"We could have it in a few days, if you want. Another test for the new features, and if it clears, you should be able to take it out. If you want, that is."
"And the next thing?"
"That's even easier. The worst part of that design is the engines need to be set farther away from the pilot; the alloy just can't handle the heat."
Well, the alloy wasn't exactly meant to handle the heat. But in moving the engines the aerodynamic signature was changed. I was trying to avoid using computer assist, but it looked grim for that. I tinkered a bit with the design until the door opened.
Jeanette walked in, a tray with both a tea service and a carafe of coffee in one hand. The other was empty. Maggie and Sam followed her in.
"Good morning."
"Good morning!" they chorused. Well, Sam wasn't quite as excited about the day, clearly, but the thought was still there.
"So what mad science are you planning today? What happened yesterday, what did you do?"
Right to the point; typical Maggie. "It was a family bonding day. Mom wanted to hang out and watch movies, so that's what we did."
Family bonding sounded better in my head than 'Mommy-min day' or the dreaded 'Mommy-daughter' day. Those two options made it sound like I needed my Mom to hang out with me or something, and images had to be maintained.
"Ah, that's so cool! What movies?"
"The princess bride and um... dead hard. The latest one, with old Bruce."
"Ahh." Sam muttered. So she'd wanted to see that one too?
"I think it's still in the living room if you want to see it Sam."
Sam got up and walked out without a word; she could use the television in here if she wanted, I wouldn't care.
When Sam came back, both Ricky and Ralph followed her in, both of them chatting away about something that they promptly shut up about.
"Good morning you two, there is coffee, tea, water and cola should you feel thirsty, but no breakfast. Ralph, I didn't expect you here."
Of all my friends, Ralph was the one who hadn't called yesterday. I commended him for being busy in my head, unlike the rest of us lazy people.
He stuttered his response out. "Well, I was a bit busy and..."
"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, of course you're welcome here. I just meant you didn't phone or text first is all."
Sam immediately monopolized the television and game console, sliding the movie in and starting it without so much as a warning to anyone. Not that anyone else seemed to mind; they all crowded around, pulling up the folding chairs and plunking down in them. Had no one seen this movie before me? That seemed a little far-fetched. Even so, I shut up to avoid spoilers.
It was advantageous when Crash brought his new harness by later, no one even glanced at us when we put our heads together and went over it, looking for problem areas. I couldn't find any, so I gave Crash the go ahead; after all he would be the one testing it first anyway.
Then it was time to machine the new parts for the new configurations and install them on the jet. That was going to take all day, probably - but it was scratching the mental itch I had. Well that and the new project. I just hoped Dad let me fly it when I was finished. I should be more trusted or not grounded from doing certain things by then.
I installed the first part before the movie was done, the 3d printer really was overtaxed; should I build a new one? An industrial one maybe? The first had been a compromise between a home and factory model... no, don't get sidetracked. I can do all that later, or tell Jeeves to do it; he was my partner in crime, after all. I couldn't wait to see what he came up with for the fall leaves, after the grass incident.
I was so bad, sometimes. For all I knew, Jeeves wasn't even working on plant pigmentation any more.
"What are you doing?"
Not only was I surprised by Sam's voice, I was surprised by the full sentence. Both were kind of unusual, and looking up I could see Sam hunched over, her face a little too pink.
"Replacing this panel here."
Sam was back on solid ground. "Why?"
Of course the jet worked, so why would I do such a thing? "It wasn't fully functional before. So now, if I replace a few things, it will be and Crash can test the next phase of the jet."
"Weapons?"
What? "No, I'm not adding any. Why would I add weapons?"
There was the right place to add the AI assist if I were going to. I guess I could add the slot for it next and just make the chip later when I decided.
"Most devisors add weapons to things," Maggie interrupted as she also leaned over and watched.
I finished and waved them both back, Crash helped me up. "What did you think of the movie?"
Sam waffled her hand while Maggie was a bit more vocal. "It was pretty good, so long as you don't think too hard."
"Yeah I know what you mean." I had been a bit disappointed - the movie had done some frankly unbelievable crap with special effects. But that was par for the course, anymore. The new one would likely be even worse in that regard.
The guys had apparently loved it without reservation. They were both grinning like loons as they put a fighting game in the console. I went over to join them - after all there really wasn't much else to do while the other replacement parts cooked, so to speak.
I mauled Ralph but got trounced by Ricky and passed the controller off. Sam trounced all comers for the first round. The second round Ricky took back the throne, and we started all over again. We really needed Ian here - he was the only one who could match Ricky consistently.
Next round I knocked him out though, then Sam promptly destroyed me. That was enough socialization for now, it was time to go back to work.
Work was pretty boring right now.
"Come young Miss, let us leave this stuffy place for a time, and walk for a time in the sunlight."
Uh oh. Trouble in paradise. "But..."
"You need the exercise."
Maggie took up the cause. "That's right! You do need to get out more, you're going to get all flabby."
That wasn't really possible. "There's no way I can...."
Then Sam grabbed my arm, and delivered her verdict. "Flabby."
I knew a lost cause when I saw one. One of my powers was regeneration, so there was no way I could even lose muscle mass. Well, unless I was in a coma for a hundred years or so, and probably not even then.
But against the combined might of those three stares, even without the two boys high-fiving themselves behind them, I stood no chance of explaining that. i was pretty sure that Jeanette knew too, and she had done this on purpose.
Oh well, I could always set the printer up with a Que. Or, let Crash handle it.
"Fine. Crash, you know what to do, right?"
"Mind the store?" He replied, making it sounds a little too much like a question.
"Not the phrase I'd have used, but yes. Make sure the place doesn't burn down and watch the parts to ensure they don't warp. I'll be back later."
"Will do!" He enthused, sounding too much like a deep voiced Maggie for my liking.
Jeanette led the way out, one hand shielding her eyes, the other keeping me from following; she looked around first, then nodded to herself sharply before her fingers came off my breastbone.
I just rolled my eyes at her. Then I regretted it because the sun was bright. I really needed to get some prescription sunglasses.
Ralph and Ricky tried to pile out of the door together, and Maggie berated them for their manners; they too squinted, looking around the same way Jeanette had. At least they probably weren't looking for the same thing.
It was still cold, even with the coat and sweater; looking around, no one else had a second layer on. The closest was Sam, who had a long sleeved shirt on. Everyone else was still dressed for summer and not suffering at all! I huddled in my coat a bit more, and buttoned it up when I was sure no one was looking.
I didn't button it all the way though, that would be both uncool and noticeable.
"So where are we going?" Maggie asked.
"How about the park?" Ricky responded, twirling a basketball on his index finger. Where had he gotten that? Had he picked up the one in my room somehow? "The courts are probably free."
"Fine by me," I answered. "But I won't be playing any horse today. You all can knock yourselves out."
"Shall we jog?" Jeanette asked. "Now is an excellent opportunity to get blood flowing and loosen muscle."
Ricky rose to the challenge and took off, his reply trailing behind him. "Sure, sounds good."
Ugh, I knew it would come to this. I started a step too late, and everyone else joined in. Within ten steps I was passed.
No, I wouldn't accept this. I doubled down instead, I kept to a jogging pace but shortened and doubled my steps. By the time we reached the park, I wasn't first, but I wasn't dead last anymore either. That honor belonged to Maggie.
"Not a bad warm up," Ralph said, his eyes seeking me out.
"Yeah, got the blood pumping. A little one on one?" Ricky shot back with a look I knew well.
Ralph took the bait. "Sure. Let's do it."
"Boys," Maggie whispered loudly with a grin.
They ignored her in favor of rock paper scissors to see who got the ball first. I took a seat on the nearest bench with a sigh. What to do now? I didn't want to just watch other people play basketball.
Sam sat next to me, then Jeanette took the other side.
Sam didn't talk, but Jeanette was under no such hesitation. "I know that look, young Miss. Perhaps I might entice you to participate elsewhere? On the other park equipment, perhaps the swing set?"
Jeanette thinks I am a little kid, it seems.
"That sounds like an idea," Maggie said, the traitor.
Sam just got up and held a hand out to me. I took it and almost shot to my feet as she pulled; Sam was stronger than she looked. She didn't let go either, so there was no escape from the attack to be had from the attack on my dignity.
Instead we all plunked down on swings next to each other, and started off.
When I was a kid, one of the things I loved to do was get as high as I could on a swing, then jump out to see how high I could get. I even sprained an ankle doing it once, but nothing beat the sensation of air whistling past your face and the feeling of weightlessness, right before gravity reasserted itself and everything went wrong.
Today I was lighter than I'd ever been, and yet I was afraid. Not afraid of taking the plunge, but afraid of how Jeanette would react; I knew Jeeves would try to catch me, but Jeanette would probably just yell at me for a year, and I didn't want to hear it.
Still, higher and higher I went, committing to some time in the air at least, coming closer to the dreaded moment of chained weightlessness that occurred right before you went completely around the set on a swing, wrapping the chain around the metal bars. That sort of move had its own dangers.
Maggie was playing it safe, but Sam was matching me, the madwoman. The set itself was beginning to thrum with the forces we were applying.
We bailed out together, Sam and I. Jeanette watched me arc in silently, and land perfectly. despite that my lead foot still stung with the impact.
I turned to find Sam grinning, and I was sure mine matched hers. Maggie was shaking her head and muttering at us... but Jeanette was silent. She stayed that way even when I limped my first few steps, working the kinks out while Sam led us away.
Sam led us to the merry-go-round, and old rusted disc of steel painted in alternating blue and red that squeaked with every movement.
"Really?" Maggie asked her as Sam got on. Sam just stared back at her with her jaw set.
"Fine, but I'm not getting on," Maggie declared. Sam looked at me.
Then I got pushed from behind, gently. "Go ahead, young Miss."
Resistance was futile; it was take the step and get on or trip and fall. "Jeanette what are you doing?"
"Please sit." Jeanette replied, beginning to push the contraption. Then she started pushing it with smooth, easy strokes.
The motion was slow and easy, but it wasn't long before she was really getting into it, and the choice was sit down and hang on or fly off. The world blurred by, and I sat back, braced my feet against the rails, and watched the sky spin.
When the center started wobbling, a minute later, Jeanette smoothly slowed us down again, just like a schoolyard pro.
Of course neither of us could so much as move, let alone get up. It was a miracle we hadn't gotten sick.
"Jeanette we need to have a talk about your impulsive streak."
Sam seconded me with a rather melodramatic "Blergh."
"As you wish, young Miss." She sounded suitably sorry, so it could probably wait until later.
Ricky strode into view, blocking the sun. "That looked like a lot of fun just now."
"Knock yourself out." I told him.
He started to climb on. "Wait, no! Let me get off first!" I did not want a round two. At least not yet.
Jeanette came to my rescue, lifting me up and making sure I didn't fall as the world spun. Sam was already off the ride, safely in the grass, and I was placed gently beside her.
"Wuff." Sam muttered, and I agreed. Meanwhile the boys both got on eagerly, because they were boys.
"Hold on, because if you land on me I'm going to be pissed." I told them. Having the clouds spin that way was rather nice.
Squeaking announced the merry-go-round was in action again, and low whoops announced who was on it. The noise stopped, then about the time I could see straight again, I heard that ominous rattle.
It was time to move. Sam was already out of the way, and I managed to follow, but nothing happened; there was no snap or flying bodies to avoid.
Sam moved on... to the pull up bar. The pull up bar was a lone bar bolted in two bars five feet apart and five feet up, with those set in concrete. Its sole purpose was to have kids swing on it using their upper arm strength, or do pull ups. Why it was considered a playground toy was beyond me.
Sam grabbed hold and bent her knees under her, then began the count. She managed five before putting her feet back on solid ground.
I stepped up behind and mimicked her (I didn't actually have to pull my feet up but I did anyway). I knew I was in trouble after the first. I managed a second pull-up before I couldn't hang on anymore. Before, I could have easily done anywhere from seven to ten but my arms were like noodles now.
I got out of the way and Maggie pulled off three before she gave up.
Sam snapped her fingers, then cartwheeled. I knew how to cartwheel of course, in theory, but I'd never done it before. She cartwheeled again, then pointed. Maggie cartwheeled too.
"Come on Min, you try it. The grass is soft enough, you won't get hurt."
As if that were the problem. My worst fear was coming true.. other kids were coming to the park.
Pam, Monty, Jodi, and Flash were headed our way. Monty was holding a basketball, and I could smell the trouble.
"I've got a coat on. Also, we have incoming."
Sam turned to look and her eyes narrowed. Maggie kept her face neutral but they both closed ranks - in front of me. From nowhere, Jeanette drew up to my side, making as little effort as Sam to hide her feelings. Which looked to me like nothing so much as disdain, but that couldn't be, right? I mean, Jeanette didn't know any of these people.
The other group drew close and Pam took the lead; Flash had been, but he let Pam go ahead of him. "Hi guys! What's going on?"
That seemed a little too bright and chipper. At least she was addressing Sam and totally ignoring me. I couldn't expect that to last, but I could hope.
"Nothing," was Sam's reply.
"Oh come on, it looked like you were practicing for the cheer squad," Pam said. "No need to by shy about it."
Sam had been on the cheerleading squad for awhile, before quitting. I wonder if she missed it.
"Just having fun," Maggie answered, pulling another cartwheel. "Trying to get Min involved. She's under the impression cartwheels are hard or something."
I didn't have that impression, but I did know how clumsy I was. "I'm just too cold to ditch my coat and go flipping around is all, but you two can knock yourselves out."
Flash ignored me entirely, in favor of Ricky. "How about a game? One on one, or two on two?"
Ricky shrugged. "Sure. Ralph, you in?"
Ralph looked startled by the notion, but stepped up with a hard look at Monty. "Sure."
Monty appeared to be in too. "Alright. We'll let you have first ball."
"Your funeral," Ricky stated. They headed off to play, leaving me surrounded.
Pam did a picture perfect cartwheel, then a handstand. "Come on Minerva, this is all easy to learn.
Jeanette, that picture of propriety, threw herself into off a cartwheel, then a handstand. "Come young Miss, let us learn together."
When she put it like that, how could I refuse? I loosed my coat, but I wasn't about to take it off; just loosening it would have to do.
To my surprise I didn't fall on my ass my first attempt. Or even the second. I turned to Sam, and she gave me thumbs up before doing a back bend. I followed her lead with Jeanette beside me. Even Jodi got into the act, and her laughter was contagious.
Then it was off to things like front and back flips, and even splits. The splits didn't hurt at all, when had I gotten so limber?
Following Sam's lead I was able to avoid making a complete fool of myself. Well more than normal for someone jumping around in a park like an idiot for half the day. Even Jeanette would be satisfied after this performance; I found a bench to watch the end of the game on and plunked onto it.
The two R's won. I was able to bask in a little bit of just revenge, watching Ricky feed the last pass to Ralph, and watching Ralph score over Monty.
I expected some griping over losing to a mutant, but Flash was as respectful as Monty was silent: "Good game you two. Same time next week?"
"Maybe," Ricky replied. "If the weather allows. Not a fan of playing in pouring rain and cold."
They were downright civil! Something had happened here, and I wanted to know what it was.
Monty held out his right hand to Ralph. "Good game. Sorry about before."
Ralph shook it. "Good game. I accept your apology."
Ralph's tone was off; I could tell Ralph was still holding a grudge - so Monty could probably tell too. At least the world hadn't turned completely upside down overnight.
"Alright, I'm tired so I'm going home. Good game you guys, and an interesting time Pam, but I'm out."
Jeanette fell in beside me as I started off.
"See you at school tomorrow!" Flash called. Odd, he sounded almost... natural about it. Non-hostile? With Monty apologizing? Pam being mostly silent? What a weird day.
Jeanette was smiling, so that was something at least.
"Hey wait up!" Ricky called while running the ten steps needed to catch up to me, as if it was hard or something.
Everyone else caught up just after, and we all closed ranks on the sidewalk home. The sun was still a long way from setting, and there was still much to do.
School sucked. It sucked with a vengeance; why was it so boring? Why were the books so dry, the material so uninteresting? How was math so easy?
It was even worse when the jet was finally ready for human testing and I was stuck here. Dad hadn't caved yet on the grounding, but he would. The trick was to ask him while mom was away and show off all the safety features.
The next project would be even more cool.
No, focus. Bad Min!
The classes swam together a bit as I handed in my homework, but otherwise I tried to ignore the teachers. They didn't ask me surprise questions anymore, not since the tenth time I answered one perfectly. Instead, they ignored me back, and that was best for everyone. Gym was the one difference; the school wanted me to try some low impact stuff for exercise, and they were working on it. So far, that was yoga from Coach Howard's sister.
I was still trying to get Ralph to join in, but he wouldn't.
Lunch came along and Ricky broke a trail outside for me. Lately, Jeeves had been trading off the lunch menu with Jeanette, and yesterday had been vegetable tortellini. Which meant today would be something normal.
The blanket was spread under our tree, and pillows were spread out on it, and in the center was the customary silver service. Jeeves was next to it, and when he saw us coming he bowed.
I settled in; Sam coming from nowhere to claim the spot next to me. Ricky glared at her for a moment, then started for my other side... just in time to be denied by Jeanette. She sat gracefully and smoothed her dress. Ricky plunked down where he was with a sigh while I adjusted a pillow.
Sometimes I wondered if I was being too pampered. Nah.
Jeeves took the cover off the platter to reveal... an absolutely huge bacon cheeseburger with all the stuff anyone could want on it, and actual fried fries. The burger was even on a bun! A bun with those little seeds!
The entire plate was dripping with oil and grease and unhealthiness and it looked fantastic. I wasted no time.
I turned to find Sam too close and drooling, her own lunch forgotten. She grinned and stole a fry.
i wanted to speak up, to yell... but I knew that would open the flood gates.
Jeeves grinned back at Sam, and pulled another platter lid off to reveal... more fries, all cooked the same way as mine. There had to be an entire bag of fries there. No, several, because some of the fries were different; they had the thin ones that I liked, steak fries, and the crinkly ones.
Sam held a fist out, and Jeeves bumped it. Then the feeding frenzy began. There was no chatting, no pleasant conversation, and I was just as guilty as my friends because I was ravenous for some reason.
That changed in a hurry. I knew inside a minute that I wouldn't be able to finish the burger; it was just too big. I still gave it my best shot.
The fries I finished of course, those were easy. I signaled the end of the fun.
"Thanks Jeeves."
"You are welcome, mistress Min."
My friends were attacking their own lunches with far less gust than I had; the plate of fries was long since gone. We could talk again.
I leaned back against the tree, waiting for it. If it wasn't asked today I'd lose the bet....
I was bailed out. "So Min, what are you working on now?"
The same thing I was working on yesterday, Ricky. "Still the jet. It is ready though."
Sam's eyes brightened.
"No, I can't let you fly it yet. You don't know how." Also none of my friends could regenerate if they crashed, while I could.
Sam drooped. Ricky also drooped. What did they think this was, a joke? They could actually die.
"So you're saying you can fly it now?" Maggie asked.
I should. "Well, in theory. I know how all the controls work, and I know how slow I can go before it stalls or how fast I can go before I possibly blow the engine. I know how to use the air brakes if I need to."
Ralph popped a mini-tomato in his mouth. He'd packed those? What else was he hiding?
"Seems fair. How long are you planning to be up, and how far are you planning to go?"
"A few miles, and maybe fifteen minutes. Just long enough to prove that it works, really." I wasn't Top Gun after all, I just wanted to prove a point. Going up a mile or two into the air was just a bonus, really.
I wanted nothing more than to be able to slow down and open the cockpit, and just enjoy the air. Even knowing I couldn't, I wanted to so badly.
"Well, we can come, right?"
I turned to face Ricky. "Well, assuming Dad says yes at all, sure. We will be moving it out of town though."
"Where?" Sam threw her question in, taking a tiny bite of a sandwich that really looked... awful, compared to what I had. I didn't want to call her out on that.
"Jeeves says there is a place outside of town that should work. A level field near the old junk yard. He showed me a picture."
I had left the location scouting to him, but it was kind of mystery how he found the place so quickly. It was almost as if he'd been taking walks in his spare time or something. Even Crash had signed off on the place yesterday, and Crash knew his piloting. I vaguely remembered the field in question, I think. I might have flown kites there once, as a kid.
"Oh, that place. I hate that junkyard, the dogs are all trained to attack and the guy running it has no sense of humor at all."
Leave it to Ricky to run a sense of humor check.
"My dad went there recently, to buy metal and parts for me. He seemed to have no problems. Even said they talked shop for a bit. So maybe its just kids."
"Well it might have been the m-80s I let off, too. Blowing up some old cars is harmless fun though, so its really their fault I think."
Oh Ricky, of course you're going to get nailed for that. Wait, when had he done this? I hadn't been with him. He'd left me out of the fun!
Ricky was no dummy. He knew what I was thinking. He jumped to his feet and took off with a hastily yelled "I'll go ahead!"
Sam snickered while Maggie blinked. "What was that about?"
I was going to answer when Ralph beat me to the punch. "Boy thing."
That implied they wouldn't understand, but surely girls liked blowing stuff up too? Whatever. "Its nothing, I guess. Ancient history."
I'd still like fireworks, right?
Sam gave me a look, like she knew what I was thinking. The first bell rang.
"Crap!" I grinned at the sight of maggie stuffing her last crumbs in her face, puffing her cheeks out before jumping up.
That was just silly, there was plenty of time. "Thanks Jeeves. Save the leftovers, I'll finish them off when I get home."
"As you command, Mistress Min." Jeeves said with a bow. Jeanette stepped forward and offered me a hand, which I took.
I was on my feet so fast I almost fell over, and never once did I feel like I had been pulled. How she did that, I don't know, but it was smooth; one minute I was sitting, back to the tree, the next I was up and wobbling.
Something to figure out later; we had plenty of time but not all the time in the world.
I started off and Jeanette fell into step. Maggie scrambled behind me. The other kids saw me and started moving out of the way, which was nice of them. It also wasn't something that happened normally if I didn't have someone making a path for me.
I turned to Jeanette in suspicion, but her response was merely to raise an eyebrow; otherwise her face was calm. Too calm.
Whatever; I shrugged and started off again, Jeanette following behind and Sam and Maggie following behind her. We made a weird procession, but at least we didn't clog the hallways like some people, all spread out.
Speak of the devil, there go Flash and Monty, with most of the basketball team in tow.
Didn't matter; these kids had no chance at all of getting past Jeanette, even if they all ganged up. The cops probably didn't ether; they would need explosives. Cops weren't allowed to carry explosives, so I was safe.
Of course, the cops were probably stocking up, waitng for me to go all mad scientist. The joke would be on them!
"Um, Min... Why are you cackling?"
I stopped and turned to Maggie. "I've no idea what you mean. I just had a funny thought is all. I do not cackle."
Sam nodded gravely. "Cackled."
"I did not! I do not!" I pushed open the door to next class, and everyone went silent. With as much dignity as I could muster I strode to my seat. Jeanette placed my pack next to my seat and strode past to the back of the class, where she could help me if I needed it.
Conversation started up again as soon as I sat, since I wasn't the teacher. I returned a few friendly waves and opened my notebook.
I had my homework of course, and my class notes, but this notebook was neither. This notebook contained the blueprints of the next project, the Wing zero one, a personal power armor with two miniature ram jets and a set of wings that should allow it to fly.
My most complex project to date, it had the same computer assist to keep it balanced, wings that were folded back when not in use, muscle augmentation circuitry, and of course a very small cold fusion reactor powering the entire mess. The early simulations were promising, but I still needed to work on the air flow to the ram jets; too little and they wouldn't fire, too much and they would either liquefy the pilot with g-forces, or explode.
I didn't want the thing to go too fast at any rate, but I was running out of room. This wonder was going to be armed, just in case. Maybe a bit of magnetic field manipulation, to make the whole apparatus lighter?
I could feel my mind open up as the ideas came, and with it, I could feel the heat. I shut that all down with some effort and realized the teacher had come in and started the lesson for the day.
I snagged my other notebook out of my backpack with a sigh. I could recognize it now, but it was still so tempting to just let it go and do what I could do.
Jeanette was still in the back of the class, hands folded behind her; when I looked her way, she beamed the widest smile I had seen on her yet. Yeah, she knew.
I held it together, even as the idea of routing the air through the tips of the wings to the jets came to me; it would make them less sound structurally, as any sort of damage would likely cut the air to the jets; maybe back ups? instead of one large flow, several smaller ones?
No, I am a rock. I will sit here like a rock, and not think anything.I will do all this later, when I could afford to pass out.
Ralph smiled from the next desk over. He knew it too.
Finally, the bell rang. I waited as everyone left, then got up and reached for my bag. Jeanetta had already claimed it, and was dusting it off with a hand.
I gave her my notebooks and then we were off. This time my friends hadn't stuck around for me, but had gone on ahead.
The halls were just as busy as ever, and yet they still parted for me. Even people I barely knew took note and waved at me, and it was kind of embarrassing. Was that Julie? Her name was J-something.
I couldn't do much but wave back. There really wasn't that many names to remember in this school; was there something wrong with me?
Jeanette's hand brushed my arm, and I looked back into her reassuring smile. "All is well my lady," she whispered. "Her name is Julia, and she is simply forgetable."
I gave her a look. "Is that a word? Or did you make it up?" I knew the answer, but it was really odd for Jeanette to make up a word at all. That required some thought, context, and framing that my other artificial intelligences had. Now there was a chance that she could have heard it from one of us, but if she did it wasn't around me. I hoped it was legitimate, because if it was, it was a real breakthrough.
She was on my side regardless, and that was nice.
My study hall desk was surrounded, but the rest of the room was pretty deserted. I sat as Jeanette took her customary spot in the back. When I pulled out my homework, I could almost see the others in the hall lean forward. They would be disappointed today; I was going to make sure none of them saw an answer or stole my work.
So I did what any self-respecting mature person would do: I made a notebook fort to hide the goods.
The teacher in charge, a sub today, actually gave me a little smile before settling in with a book.
My fellow students shot me looks of betrayal that were easy to ignore.
My pen scratching the paper was rather relaxing, but I still found myself needing to take a breath and slow down; the urge to speed through my homework, to just write anything down so I could do what I wanted, was very strong.
I know that I didn't have this problem before I mutated. I was bad at focusing, but this was something else and much stronger. A sort of hyper focus on things that interested me. Maybe the difference from before was that nothing interested me? No that couldn't be right - I had been interested in sports.
And I had been forcibly removed from that interest by my stupid body.
It wasn't that different though, I was still interested in the things that I can do; it was just that what I could do that changed. So I wasn't really that different from before - At least I hoped not.
The bell rang, and I looked up from my perfectly reasonable self-reflection to find my homework almost done. Just another five minutes and I'd have been home free!
Oh well, I would simply do it tomorrow between classes. It was Math, and that wouldn't be as hard as the English was. One silver lining, or maybe one of many.
Speaking of, last class of the day. Jeanette grabbed my bag with a smile but without a word, and we made our way to the classroom. This time there was no cause to wait, so I joined the press early.
Despite all that, Ricky was waiting on me when I arrived. He gave me this expectant look.
"What?"
"Did you get your homework done?"
"Most of it. Everything but math."
Ricky's expectant look fell. "Dang."
"Forget it, you need to learn it yourself anyway," I told him. "If you don't you'll never get it right. But... after school I'll see about giving you some pointers if you want."
The relief was palpable. "Thank you so much, I'm kinda lost from question eleven on."
That was because he kept looking for cheats, but I didn't tell him that. I was hardly in the position to throw stones, after all. A quick glance back confirmed my cheat was still there, watching me as Mrs. Holmes began to drone about Stienbeck.
I tried to pay attention, but it was hard. I even liked Stienbeck, but it was hard to say why.
Which of course meant that was the assignment for the day. Well technically, it was to give points that you thought made his stories work as well as things that did not work, but given the enthusiasm of certain teachers present, it was probably just to get what we liked about Stienbeck.
The last bell rang. I'd know for sure by tomorrow, I guess.
Like always I put my notebooks and books in place and waited. The classroom was cleared, and Jeanette walked up, grabbing my pack. She was determined to be nice today, it seemed. Some days I had to carry the thing home.
As I clomped my way down the halls, my friends joined me. We passed the noisy halls in easy silence, waiting as each of us went to a locker for books or got a drink. I was the only exception to the rule since Jeanette had taken to carrying most of my stuff around with her. It was just easier that way.
We all spread out as soon as we were outside. I could only assume it was to enjoy the remaining sunlight, which was beginning to falter in strength as the sun began to dip. There were only a few hours of light left to get everything ready; I'd have to hurry.
I picked up the pace, and everyone matched me easily. They stayed silent, and I could see a few smirks out of the corner of my eyes.
Something was definitely up. I went to the front door, and my quiet friends headed towards the back.
Dad was waiting for me when I got home. It was his day off, and he had his tee shirt and slacks on, with his socked feet propped up in his lounger. He was watching a game show and his eyes were about half-closed.
He was alert though, I could tell. "Hey Dad."
"Hey kiddo. Welcome home." He opened his eyes, but otherwise didn't twitch.
"So um, I've got a favor to ask."
"Let me guess. You want to go somewhere, right?"
I nodded. "I want you to come with me too. I want to test the jet."
Dad sat up. "Its ready?"
"Yes, its finally ready."
Dad grinned. "You waited, didn't you?"
He knew me well. "Yeah. I didn't want to worry Mom."
Dad shook his head. "You don't give her enough credit. She's probably less worried than I am."
That... really? "Even so, you were more likely to let me do this."
He mulled that over a minute.
"Sure, let's do it. You have somewhere in mind?"
Yes! I avoided the fist pump with pure will. I don't think I fooled Dad for a second though. "The old field near the junkyard?"
"Well, that'll make it easier to toss if it fails. Can you get it on the trailer?"
Not cool, Dad. "Yeah I think we can manage. Jeeves and Crash are pretty strong."
"Okay, go load it up, I'll get some shoes on and get the truck ready."
The truck was an old jalopy, a refugee from the time of dinosaurs and bell bottom jeans. An old Ford, Dad used it mainly for hauling things like old appliances, scrap, and helping move friends. Otherwise it sat in the next door neighbor's garage. Old Gus didn't care, as long as Dad helped him from time to time.
"Okay!" I didn't waste time, instead opening the back door up to find... the trailer already loaded and my friends standing around it.
"Did you guys do that?" I yelled as I started across the walk.
"Heck no!" Ricky yelled back. "It was like that when we got here."
Jeeves and Crash had been busy it seemed. They had even loaded the portable diagnostic equipment in the cockpit, where it just barely fit.
At least Dad was getting the truck, which meant everyone would be able to come without a hike or bike.
"You guys should all back up. Dad's coming with the truck."
The cheer was almost deafening. Everyone backed off and ditched their books and bags.
A minute later, Dad came around back. I waved him into place and locked the hitch.
It was a bit harder than it should have been. At least attaching the lights was still easy enough. Dad and I checked the straps while my friends piled in the back. He gave me a look and rolled his eyes.
"So, what's next? Can you think of anything you need to do?"
Jeanette came to my rescue. "Both the fire department and the police have already been notified. The FAA has also been warned, and a small flight plan has been filed."
I turned back to Dad. "Was that what you had in mind?"
He nodded. "That was it, yes. Jeanette?"
"Yes sir?" Jeanette made it sound more like a statement than question, smoothing her dress in complete disinterest on the dirty bed of the old truck.
Wait a minute, where was Jeeves? Even crash was here, almost thrumming like a plucked guitar chord in his excitement.
"Where is Jeeves? Is he staying behind?"
Jeanette shook her head. "Jeeves was in charge of arrangements. No doubt he has gone ahead to survey and prepare the field in question."
Oh, that made sense, actually. There wasn't much time to waste if we wanted to do this in daylight. But still, had he walked there? The place was miles outside of town.
"Get in," Dad ordered, and I saw the only place left for me... was up front. All my friends had spread themselves out in a rather conspicuous way, taking up the entire truck bed. No one wanted to ride next to Dad it seemed. I couldn't admit I was one of those people either; the real party was going to be in the back, but I was stuck.
At least the seats in the truck were comfortable.
Dad got in and opened the back window. "You kids stay down and hold on back there; I'll try and avoid the potholes, but it is possible to bounce right out of the back."
"I shall see to their safety, so long as they take efforts of their own, Mr. Campbell." Jeanette assured him.
"Alright, I suppose that will work." Dad put the key in the ignition, and the radio started. I promptly turned it off.
Dad gave me the look, and turned it back on. The sounds of country music began to waft along the breeze as he carefully pulled out.
I just put my head in my hands and hoped no one else I knew would see us.
The day was nice, if a little chilly. I was the only one in a coat of course, and sometimes I'd even forgot I had the thing on. I had at least that much going for me... the coat was comfy enough that unless I snagged it on something, I didn't even think about it anymore.
Oh crap, what if I needed to bail out, and my coat got snagged on something? I had forgotten my flight suit!
My phone dinged. It was Jeanette, with the message: "Do not worry, we have all we need. Nothing has been forgotten."
Jeanette didn't have a phone. I looked closer, and saw it was a timed message for me, typed into my phone several hours ago with an alarm set to it that had just gone off.
I looked back at her, and she smiled. How did she do that? She had even done it before; how did she do it?
Dad drove a bit slower than the limit, and people began to pass us. He didn't mind... but when he started to sing along to whatever the song was, I began to.
"Dad!"
He gave me the look again, and sang louder. I couldn't even talk to my friends with the wind and the other noise. It was a relief when we turned off to the road out of town and Dad had to shut up and focus.
Still, people were passing us. Some even honked. Couldn't they see we were loaded? What was the hurry? I swept my eyes over the back again; had something gone loose in the back? Did we have a flat tire?
Both Crash and Jeanette gave me a thumbs up. Sam did too, once she noticed.
"Dad, what's going on? Why all the honking?"
"Oh, just impatient people," he replied. "Nothing to worry about."
Weird. I had the feeling that there was something no one was telling me.
Dad was surprisingly gentle on the road, even after we turned off again onto the gravel road to get to the field. We still hit some bumps, but every time I looked back, I got a thumbs up from someone.
They had stopped talking among themselves though, they were taking what shelter they could from the gravel dust. That was bad - I should have thought about making masks for them, something to filter that crap out.
Dad rolled his window up. "So, what's the actual plan?"
"Just a simple manned test. I know Crash can pilot it, but he's not human. I want to make sure a human can make the adjustments needed, either with or without assistance. So a simple trip up, a large circle, and then back down. I probably won't go higher than say, a mile."
"Simple," Dad repeated.
"Simple," I counter repeated.
"You've got a parachute?"
"I've got two," I told him. "Crash packed them, and the first one is automated to pull as soon as I pull the eject lever. The second will be attached to a cord on my right; I checked last night and I should be able to reach it with my left hand in a second or so, before I start heading down."
The eject mechanism blew the seat and started a process to open the first chute. If that chute didn't open, then I had a ripcord attached to both the first chute and my right chest that would start the second chute. If that didn't happen, well the chair itself would cushion me from some of the fall, and I'd probably live.
"Do you trust Crash to pack a chute?" Dad asked.
Right, Dad had some experience jumping out of perfectly good airplanes. "I do, its part of his job."
Crash probably loved me almost as much as Dad did.
"Alright," was all he said.
We turned off, and into a party. What were all these cars doing here? There were... eleven. There were even two trucks, and both had their tailgates down. I recognized one of them as one of our neighbors, the Hendricks. Mr and Mrs. Hendricks were young and had no kids, but they hung out with us a lot for backyard barbecues. The trend continued because they were grilling, it looked like. There were two fire engines just sitting there, too.
Dad pulled off well before we got there... next to his old beaten up lawn mower, a small tent, and Jeeves.
so Jeeves had taken the mower... and from the looks of things, he had mowed an extra wide strip of the long grass of the field right down to the dirt. Well, that should be enough to stop any fires caused by the jet engine.
Dad maneuvered the trailer in position in front of the new airstrip like a professional, then cut the engine. Everyone piled out.
Jeeves bowed and pointed in an underhanded manner to the tent as I got out. "Mistress Min, your suit and helmet are within this tent. Please change into them post-haste."
"I'll do it later. The trip over might have jarred things, so I'd rather check first. No sense changing if something is broke and we won't get off the ground."
"As always, your wisdom astonishes, Mistress Min." Jeeves said before straightening up.
"Right," Suck-up. "Can you help Crash and Jeanette get the jet off the trailer and ready?"
No one here was as strong as my robots. Without them we would probably need an engine and special tools to get it in place for take off. The straps came off with a nice musical 'clang' and my friends pulled them out of the way.
Crash and Jeeves grabbed the fuselage, Jeanette grabbed a wing... and Ralph grabbed the other wing with help from Ricky. Slowly they wheeled the jet into the grass and forward.
"A bit more. We don't want the truck in the blast zone."
The plane inched forward another fifteen feet. Those who had the wings stepped forward and I grabbed the power wrench. First I rescued the two R's - I had to help them hold it steady - then I bailed out Jeanette. By the time I was done, Crash had grabbed the diagnostic equipment.
I handed the tool off and let Crash hook the unit up, just double-checking the connections. He flipped the thing on, and the results posted to my phone immediately; all clear, everything was in the green.
I adjusted a few settings and ran it again. Again, it popped up all green. I shrugged and began to do the pre-flight check, with Crash dogging my steps.
"What are you doing now, Min?" Maggie asked, coming up. She was alone, which was a little weird. Where had everyone else gone?
"I'm doing the pre-flight check. Where did everyone else go?"
"Oh, they went to see if the tail-gater over there would share some brats or something. They are kind of spoiled after all, from all the after school snacks you normally offer."
"Wait, tail-gater? That's what is going on here? A tail gate party?"
Maggie shrugged. "Sure looks like it. It looks like your neighbors and a few other people knew more about what you were planning than you did - or learned very quickly."
So I had a leak somewhere, somehow. Not that it mattered, I didn't have anything to hide. Right? Why was anyone interested, anyway? It was just a flight test, those happened all the time.
"What about you?"
"Oh, I want to write the story for the school paper," Maggie answered. "Besides, Sam will pick me up something if she can. She always does. So, can you tell me how you're feeling right now?"
I answered honestly. "Confused, mostly. Why would anyone care about a simple flight test?"
Maggie clicked her tongue at me. "Oh Min Min Min, who wouldn't be interested? You're a teenager and you're you. There are rumors you've sold a patent already, and rumors that you're going to sell more. You're liked by pretty much everybody in town, and known by pretty much everybody in town, and you know how people in this town get when they like someone. It's probably the only reason you weren't arrested after last time."
It was true, everyone here was really supportive. Not at all like I'd heard people being in other parts of the world. I'd only heard a few slurs after all, and most of those from my peers... the few I'd heard from adults, well, they weren't that bad.
"Who told you about the patents?"
"Well you did. You and your bots... androids, whatever. But that's only two confirmed sources so until I get the copy of the patent I requested, it still counts as a rumor and therefore can't be published."
"How very ethical of you." I deadpanned.
She chose to be honest. "I take my journalism seriously."
"Hey."
Crash speaking up surprised me for some reason.
"What's up Crash?"
"What's that look like to you?" Crash said, and pointed.
One of the landing gear was flat, or going so.
"See if you can air it up. If it holds air, we will proceed. If not, we scrub."
Crash nodded and went to find the air pump we'd brought.
"Really? over a jumped up go-kart tire?" Maggie whispered in a voice louder than a shout.
"Yes, it will affect how much speed I'm able to get over take-off, and will most certainly pop if I land on it." I continued the check.
Maggie kept me company, even after Sam showed up and handed her a hot dog. She also winked at me with her mouth wrapped around her own.
I rolled my eyes. Let's see, back at the tail, jet looked fine... everything was good. I went back to Crash.
"How is it?"
He stood on the tire in response and gave me a thumbs up when it didn't so much as dip.
"Right, time to suit up, I guess."
The tent was hot, but the suit was open and laid out for me. All I had to do was shuck my clothes and roll over to get in. Zipping it up, I was immediately glad I hadn't went with a racing model; for all that they were better with heat, those things were skin tight on purpose, and I was shy. I heard engines from outside.
Pilot flight suits were nice and baggy, most of the time.
I stepped out, and into picture flashes. "Ack!"
Sam was there, a camera in hand and a grin on her face.
Maggie stepped up. "Don't worry Min, its just a few shots for the paper."
Wait, was that a video camera set up? What was Jeeves doing in front of that?
A closer look revealed it was Dad's home movie set up, on the old tripod no less. I found Dad in the small crowd and gave him my best 'Mom look'. He just smiled and shrugged at me.
Crash stepped up. "Final checks are all green. We can go any time."
One of the fire engines was closer now, in range to hose us all down and with some hoses out. The truck and trailer were now across the street.
"Help me inside."
Someone started cheers, and everyone picked them up. "Whoo, go Min!"
"Good luck Min!"
"Take me a picture of us from up there!"
That was a good idea, actually.
"Don't worry, it'll work fine!"
Okay, inside, helmet on, the noise cut off. I waved back at me supporters, weird as they were, and Crash closed the cockpit.
"Radio check. one, two, three...."
"Loud and clear," Jeanette told me.
I didn't have rear view mirrors on this thing. That was possibly an oversight.
"Get everyone clear. At least twenty feet back, preferably fifty. Main engine start in one minute."
I waited. Crash came on the radio at exactly thirty seconds into my count. "All clear boss. Repeat, you are clear to go for ignition."
I maintained the count, and pushed the start button right on time. Being right on time was important.
The engine fired right up and the vehicle began to shudder. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Confirming main engine start, power green."
"Confirmed." Crash told me.
I knew it would work now. "Throttle back."
The display panel switched to a wireframe view ahead of me, complete with numbers; the speed and angle I'd need in order to successfully take off, as calculated by the smart system installed and the cameras placed ahead that were scanning the terrain. The surprisingly flat terrain that had scarcely a bump.
"Confirmed, throttle back."
I hit the air right on target, wobbling a little before my lessons kicked in. The trees at the end of the field passed underneath me.
I was up. Finally, I was up. I angled the stick down and started a gentle climb.
"Boss, confirm all green, over?"
"All green confirmed. This view is... "
There was nothing above me but clouds. I started a gentle turn, and the display changed again, reminding me that I had a flight plan filed with the FAA.
"Yeah I know boss. Why don't you chase that cloud over there? The small one, next to that fat one. South-Southeast."
I looked. That was indeed a cloud there. "Sounds like a plan."
"Be sure to take pictures!" Maggie yelled, more than loud enough for me to hear her from here normally.
I checked. Both video and stills were being taken. At that rate the hard drive would be filled in minutes, but it was the best I could do.
The power supply was in the green. I poured on the power and began to really climb, aiming for that puffy little cloud. The usage meter grew a bit, but it never hit over forty percent, even at close to mach one, with the jet loudly rattling around me and the G's pressing me into the seat. Was my vision tunneling? I was told to watch for that.
I eased off. The maximum rated speed was mach one point five or so, but we'd already tested that and the rattling was a little scary.
I made it to the cloud. I was in a cloud! Radar showed nothing up here with me. Some moisture began to collect into tiny droplets on the cockpit glass, only to streak away.
I was in a cloud! I didn't even have a pilot's license, and I was flying!
As soon as I was out, I turned to the sun; instantly my helmet darkened to protect my vision. But it was there, and it was so much closer. Almost in reach.
I banked down, just before I got the warning from my system. It wouldn't do to fly too high now, no matter how tempting it was.
Instead, I did a fly-by of the field, then another to double check the runway. I'd be coming in from over the trees and towards where everyone is, so I would need to hit the button right there, and let the automated system do the work. That was the last test, and the one Crash hadn't been able to do because it hadn't been ready yet.
But it was reading green, and I really wanted to try it.
A pass over the junkyard, revealing all that wonderful unused metal just rusting in the open air, the a buzz over the tailgators to what I hoped was their delight, and my timer beeped.
I didn't want to land, but it was time.
I lined up and hit the button.
The power use spiked immediately as the secondary jets came on; the main engine cut out, and the booms lowered and locked in place. The sudden lack of momentum slammed me forward but my harness stopped me shy of slamming into the cockpit; the extra padding Crash had suggested worked; my shoulders stayed attached.
I grabbed the sticks inset on the sides of the chair, and the arms moved accordingly, The plane landed with a thud, and the pedals became free to use again. I pulled one up, and like a bikes, set it down.
"Boss, all green?" Crash asked.
The new leg on the vehicle matched me perfectly, the kinetic translation software doing its job. The arm raised at my beck and formed a thumbs up that I hoped would be visible to everyone as I carefully moved the next foot.
Still, I should answer. "All green, Crash. I'll be there in a minute."
Without the chip and software, this would be impossible, but as long as my movements were translated and as long as the chip maintained the balance of the thing, it would walk. Even now it was a little more forward than I'd expected it to be.
The power supply was nearing the red line, at eighty percent. It was also nearing the heat red line, and that was climbing. Could the jets in the 'feet' be causing a backflow, even shut off?
I sped up a bit, and soon learned the limits. This thing would never be able to run. It would probably be able to jump, but I needed better heat management for that.
The wide eyes and landed fish impressions were worth it all, though. I was definitely recording those.
The heat was at ninety percent by the time I shut the system down and the vehicle became a plane again.
Crash popped the cockpit, his grin leading the way as he grabbed me gently, picked me up, and plunked me down on the grass. "Congratulations, boss! Looks like it works great! I can't wait to get a shot at it myself!"
Dad was next, all but slamming into me. Despite that and the massive hug, his words were dry. "So, you made a transformer."
"Technically I wanted to test construction robot ideas along with my jet ideas." It wasn't even a lie, no matter how silly it sounded. A vehicle much like this would be needed for the next phase of what I wanted to do.
"Well, I'd say it worked." Dad replied.
Before I could correct him I was swamped. "Goodjob Min!"
"Way to go Min!"
"I knew you could do it Min!"
So, this was what group hugs felt like. It was kind of awkward, and my ribs were beginning to creak.
Ricky asked what I knew everyone was thinking. "So, when do I get to go up?"
Luckily I had an answer. "When you get a pilot's license and you learn to fly the thing."
Sam pouted. "You don't."
"Not a full one, no, but I do have a provisional license and an accredited instructor here. It might be a little shady, but its legal. Especially with a parent granting permission."
"Wouldn't have denied it for the world," Dad admitted. "I'd rather you do things like this in front of me than behind my back."
Well he wasn't wrong there, not that I'd admit it.
"Alright, we need to let the bird cool off some before we can load it," Crash said. "Let's go join your neighbors, shall we?"
I looked and the crowd over there was walking to meet us. That seemed like a great idea to me.
Still, I held onto Dad's arm as everyone else started off, and pulled him low.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
How could I tell him how much this meant to me? "Thanks for this... I needed it.
He smiled. "Any time. Now let's go before your friends notice you doing something this uncool."
I punched his arm as we started off.
"We probably shouldn't stay long. Ian should be back from practice now, and dinner is going to be late as is."
Ian had taken up football, and was working hard at it, which was a little weird.
"True. Might be a pizza night," Dad muttered. "Mom will be late, she's working late tonight."
"So that means Ian is alone!" That was no good. Anything could happen if Ian was alone.
"Right. But he can handle it, he's old enough."
That wasn't really my worry, but I didn't dare tell Dad. Too many people knew about me, and knew about this test.
As soon as I reached the group, I was handed a plate filled with brats and beans. "Nice flying, little lady! I like that little plane of yours."
"Thank you, Mr. Hendricks. Hello Mrs. Hendricks."
"Hello Min, it was great seeing what you could do. I'm looking forward to anything else you make."
This was just weird, really. Why the big production?
We made our rounds while I ate (I certainly wasn't going to waste it) and tried to keep a handle on my stupid brain. It wanted me to make notes on the flaws I noticed, as soon as possible. I wasn't about to let it have it's way, at least not yet.
"Crash, Jeeves, could you load us back up?"
"Certainly mistress Min."
"Right away boss."
"Thank you. As soon as you're done Jeeves, head out. You need to get the mower back as soon as possible."
Jeeves probably wouldn't be back until after dark, but he would be fine.
"As you command, Mistress."
I finished up and we started making our good-byes. Luckily my friends were just as ready to go as I was.
Everything was set, and Crash was waiting in the truck. Sam and Ricky both managed to get ahead of me and block the way into the back, so I made a show of checking the wings and straps again; everything was secure.
Stymied, I got into the front again. Dad started the engine up and pulled out, but kept the radio off - something I was thankful for. Looking back, we were at the start of a convoy, as the tailgaters followed our lead. I used the time to make notes on my phone regarding heat distribution.
Why were the cops at the turn off? There were two cars; I recognized officer Mofit and waved to him, and he waved back. And there, behind officer mofit, was agent Leonard Sands of the MCO. Had he been stopped here? He waved to me, and I waved back.
We made it home without incident, and Dad shut down the truck in the driveway, without going into the back. Ian was there.
He flew out of the house as we pulled up, and he was PISSED.
He wasted no time jumping in my face. "You! How dare you go off and test the jet without me! You know I wanted to be there!"
I pointed to the sky, and the sun that had just set. "There was no time. You were at practice, and I couldn't fly at night. Is it really that big of a deal? We will fly it again."
Ian stopped in his tracks for a moment, then came to himself as Sam bumped shoulders with him.
"No, I guess it isn't that big a deal," he said finally with a sigh that the Hendricks, who were just now pulling in, could no doubt hear.
"Don't worry," Ricky told him. "You still get to be here for the best part."
Ian's face turned ugly for a moment before he smoothed it out with effort. "Oh yeah? And what might that be?"
The answer caught us all flat-footed. "The after party, of course."
This was it. This was what all those secretive smiles had been about. There was some plot afoot here.
"Crash, Jeeves, Jeanette. You three think you can carry the jet to the lab?"
"Of course," they all three agreed, and started undoing the straps without further comment.
"I'm going to open up the lab Dad. You're welcome to come if you want, but I can't promise you'll have any fun there."
There was panic on more than a few faces at the suggestion my Dad join us. Even Sam showed some, which was odd.
"Nah, think I'll just order the pizzas and watch the game. You're all welcome to stay until ten, it being a school night. However if Min is having trouble staying awake, she will come inside to sleep.
And he gave me the look again.
"I will, I will. I promise."
"Good, you better." He demanded, then walked off.
Relieved I put my eye to the scanner and used the key. The lab's door opened, and I wasted no time grabbing the main door and opening that.
Ricky looked around, suspiciously. then he produced... was that wine?
I adjusted my glasses. No, it was Dom Perignon champagne. "So this was what you guys were hiding."
"What celebration would be complete without champagne? We all chipped in and bribed a guy to get it for us, as sort of a celebration of how things are working out for you."
I folded my arms. "You know I'm still not just making you guys androids."
Sam shrugged, but Ricky looked a little down at that.
Ralph however spoke up: "Not why we're doing it, little miss millionaire."
Oh, right. The rumor that they knew was truth. "My bad then."
Ricky broke out the glasses, then got overruled as my androids came in. Jeanette let go of her part of the jet, and the other two carrying it groaned theatrically. "No."
"No what? We're drinking this and that is final!"
"You are not drinking fine champagne in solo cups. Wait but a moment." Jeanette replied and turned on her heel, almost running back to the house.
crash and Jeeves shared a look. No, not a look; the look. But they both set the jet down gently.
The front tire of the jet popped with a sound like a balloon, only far worse.
I couldn't help but laugh. Even after all those safety checks...!
Jeanette came back with wine glasses on a platter she got from somewhere; I didn't recognize them. These were long and fluted, and my Mom's set was short and dumpy looking.
She also took the champagne bottle and opened it with a cork from her pocket. Her movements were precise and careful, which meant the liquid didn't spill.
She poured for us, and the party began.
.......
He heard the spike in laughter and shouts from inside the house; there wouldn't be any noise complaints; not today. The danger had been averted for now, and his daughter would never know.
He went upstairs and place his two holdouts in their case, both .25s fitting neatly in the felt. With hollow points, even a .25 could be dangerous at close range, and combined with the rifle work of the Hendricks family, the practiced violence of the others, it would have been enough no matter who the MCO had put up to visiting.
That visit hadn't happened of course, but some people had tried. The word was finally out.
Silent as a ghost, he flitted back downstairs to wait for the pizza, and to mark the video so that his loving wife could see it. Next time it would be her turn to watch over their new girl, and his to work overtime as a favor to those who would help protect her. He waved to the sentries he knew were out there in the burgeoning night, not envying them for a moment. He received the all clear in response.
Heading to the kitchen, he grabbed himself a beer. Being a parent thirsty work, and he wouldn't always have time like this.
He took a drink as the dark settled in. Took another when his daughter came in, loudly protesting some act by Ian, Jeanette's shoes sounding on the floor behind the pair. They went upstairs without seeing him, clearly happy despite the childlike arguing. After a few minutes, Jeanette came downstairs, nodded to him, and began cleaning.
He took another drink when he heard the key in the lock and sat back, easing a hand around one of the holdouts they had placed as a couple around the house.
"Evening." She said, taking in the scene. The darkness didn't matter to her.
"Evening." He replied, and took another drink, his hand well in sight.
"So it was today, was it?"
"Yep, you called it."
"How did it go?"
He pointed toward the tape. "Got the whole thing, except when she poured on the speed a few times."
She pushed the tape in and watched as the day unfolded. Some time after it stopped and they were in darkness again, she sighed.
"It was all worth it."
He nodded and finished the beer in one smooth motion.
Summer mutation side story - The good old boys.
I stood on the bed of my old battered Ford F-150 and surveyed the troops. The floodlights and high beams littered around the lot made it harder, but what I saw couldn't help to bring a smile on.
There had to be a hunnert guys here, all with signs. A few bull horns to get the message across - and a few other things in case things got nasty. The rifles had been stripped from the gun racks, so that was one less reason for the cops to get uppity.
Stupid cops, wouldn't arrest the real menace. Our god given first amendment would put some pressure on them. The people would thank us, they probably didn't even know about the monster in their midst.
The law to inform the public about students who had the power to slaughter had been narrowly beaten last year. It was up again soon, and I had no doubt it would pass.
But until it passed, it was up to guys like me and my friends to pick up the slack. There had to be a bunch of hardworking Americans that knew about the danger, but didn't know how close it was.
I had to give the family credit really, the kid had been active for awhile, and only the neighbors had a complaint in... over some kind of jury-rigged vehicle blocking the street or something. My friend hadn't been able to smuggle the entire complaint out.
Just the report where nothing was done about it.
I kept it simple: "You know why we're here, and what we need to do. Let's be about it, and let's keep it peaceful."
It wouldn't stay peaceful, of course. My guys were in the crowd, and they knew how to start a fight while making the other guys look like they started it.
The cheer started when I stepped off the truck bed and it was clear I wouldn't say anything else. It was just that easy.
I got behind the wheel and waited. I wasn't going to start the engine before we were all lined up, and I was in the place of honor.
A beer sounded very good about now, but I didn't want to get arrested, so the coke in my cup holder would have to do. It was a hot day.
I drank half before the ready honk sounded and we were finally free to get the show on the road. Even with carpooling, there were a good twenty vehicles in our convoy. The twenty best vehicles we all possessed. I kept us under the limit and the drivers were following the orders to keep us spread out - they didn't want the state troopers to have reason to take notice either.
The little hamlet was only a few miles away, and almost all of the land along the way to the town were farms. I knew more than a few of them personally, real salt of the Earth people. We had coffee in the same diner every day.
Well, at least for the first mile. The farmers past that might well be salt of the Earth, but they took their coffee in the Paris diner, and my own coffee friends often had a few bones to pick with them. But no, I had to be calm and objective here. The group wouldn't reimburse anything else, and while the money wasn't what we did it for, it was welcome.
I took the turn off, easy as you please, but had to stop. My stomach dropped into my boots. Why was there a roadblock here? How could there be a roadblock here, less than a mile from the exit? Wasn't that illegal? Our convoy just barely cleared the exit, which was a small blessing.
I could just spot the spike strips in the grass behind the cars. The local police cars, which had no jurisdiction until we hit the town sign. We wouldn't be going around them, and they could deny spiking the road if asked. I guess that was clever.
I rolled down my window as one of the four uniformed cops approached. Wasn't this their entire force? The name above his badge said "Myles", and he was tall. Taller than I was, and with more muscle on him besides. His rolled up sleeves barely fit over guns that a pro wrestler would be proud of. Clayton Myles was the sheriff, come to think of it.
"What seems to be the problem, officer?"
"License and registration, please?"
Oh, he was really going to do this, this way? "Sure."
I grabbed the paperwork and handed it over; I'd had it ready just in case. The other three cops had taken up position behind their cars... and I could see the shotguns held in loose grips.
"So, what seems to be the problem, officer?" I asked again.
He looked up from my license and gave me a gimlet eye. "Got word of a humanity first protest headed our way."
Who had tipped them off?
"Funny thing about that," the sheriff continued. "To protest in Paris, one needs to contact our city hall in advance and fill out form D-18, otherwise known as an event form, at least two weeks in advance. Only one of those forms have been filled out in the last month, and it wasn't by humanity first.
He cast a glance in the truck bed, no doubt looking for guns and only seeing the signs I made in there.
"Who was it filled out by, if I may ask?"
"The Campbell family."
What the... the very family we were here to protest, unless there was another. Campbell was a pretty common name after all.
"Well, if that's an event, can we go to it?" I had to keep the smile off my face, but damn I was clever.
"It's by invitation only," the sheriff said, cool as could be. "and you don't have invitations."
He handed my registration and license back. "I'm going to need you all to turn around and go back to where you came from."
How dare he!?! "We have the right to peacefully assemble in any public place we please."
"Sure... just so long as you fill out form D-18 two weeks in advance, as required by local law," the man grinned wide. "It allows us to allocate the resources to protect you should something happen. State police tend to require notice to help local police, and in the event of a protest in today's day and age... well I'd want the backup. It's for your own safety, you understand?"
I understood. I could launch a legal challenge, but that wouldn't get us in the town today, and we might even lose. It was a slick argument.
"So, you've got room, and you don't need to worry about cross traffic. I'm going to have to ask you all to turn around and go back home. It's a nice day, go enjoy it - and come back on Monday bright and early to file that paperwork."
As if, I was a working man, and even if I wasn't they weren't going to rubber stamp any form I made. Someone knew who I was, someone had tipped the cops off, and it was clear they did not share the views of the rest of us.
I pasted my best smile on my face and hung my arm out the door and made circles with it. "Sure officer. See you on Monday."
I had to back up just a bit before turning, but I got around. There was more than one way to skin a cat.
Once I was sure we weren't being followed I pulled off onto the first of the rural routes. The convoy followed of course. From here, I could us the binocs in my glove compartment to see the off ramp - as long as I stood on my truck. It wasn't like I cared about getting boot prints on it.
The cops were still there... but that was fine. It just meant this wouldn't be a cakewalk.
"Billy-Joe."
I looked to find my right hand man and best friend had approached, when no one else had. They were busy milling around and whispering among themselves.
"Harry. The cops are still there."
"Right."
"Which means they aren't anywhere else."
The light dawned behind Harry's eyes. "Right... so then we can go around, take the back way. They can't have cops everywhere."
"Right. So we wait a bit, make sure they are staying put, then you lead us along the route. You know it a bit better than I do."
I waited, letting the others talk. Then when I was sure they were staying, I waited another five minutes before jumping down.
"Alright, back in the cars! Harry's going to lead us down another route. We aren't done yet!"
It took awhile for the others to get situated and going, and Harry almost didn't wait, taking off down the road I pulled off with confidence. I knew this route crossed rural 300, but rural North 300 would probably be flooded now; the road was unpaved trash.
Harry drove past North 300 without so much as a glance. Well, that was why he was leading now. He drove on, to where the road intersected another unpaved road. Rural North 500. Rural North 500 however, had gravel and an old stone bridge across the creek that floods late summer. All of which should be good enough, if not for the fact that as far as I knew North 500 had no way into Paris. Unless of course we took the road all the way across and found the town from the other side.
That was Harry's plan was, it seemed. Right up until he skidded to a stop in a cloud of dust.
Once the cloud thinned I could see why Harry stopped. In the distance, right at the outlet for 500, was a single car. A single car that I could tell was black and white.
My binoculars came in handy again; it was a cop car, and there were two uniformed deputies on the other side of it. They were alert, and I was fairly sure they weren't any of the cops at the off ramp. As I watched, one of them pulled out a radio mic.
"Got another idea, Harry?"
"Yep. we ain't licked yet. But this is kinda crazy; how many cops does Paris have, anyway?"
"Too many it seems. More than we do with almost twice their population." Sure Paris was rich... but there was rich, then there was wasteful. Something was off, here. Something beyond the Parisians keeping to themselves more than most. Not that we wanted them at the festival anyway, but it was odd most of them never came.
They had festivals of their own, but they didn't advertise them much. I'd thought something was off about it for years, but it was just the way it'd always been to the old timers.
I had to be patient. "Alright, everyone turn around, we're headed back the other way."
I turned back to Harry. "We are headed back the other way, aren't we?"
Harry grinned, showing off how few teeth he had. "Yep, but not all the way. I took North 500 for a reason."
I let Harry take the lead again, racking my brains. What could he be talking about? The closest intersection was East 350, but that was a dead end. So was East 400. East 500 was just on the other end of the cops. East 300 suffered from a lack of pavement and often floods.
Harry drove off past the shallow ditch and into the flat grass on the side of the road, and I followed. We all just pulled a slow loop.
Harry pulled off onto East 350, which meant their had to be something here. Minutes later, just before he hit the end of the road, he pulled off... into a driveway. The name on the mailbox had half fallen off, but the 'ythe' of Smythe was still visible. Smythe was Harry's last name, so the place had to belong to relatives of his.
The long winding drive was in better shape than the road itself, despite being dirt. It was also overgrown a bit, which meant that no one was here, or had been here for some time.
Harry reached the house and kept going, out past the other side. The road kept going too, stretching out under his battered but beloved car without a break. It led us out, and to the other side of East 300, where the road again opened up under us with farms to either side.
I'd have never known the route was here. The chances were, no one else knew it was here either, and the road was just passable enough for us all to get through. I rolled down the window again; it was best to enjoy the breeze and sounds of nature while I could. In almost no time at all even taking it easy, we were on the outskirts of Paris.
But it seemed as if we'd been anticipated once again. This time, there was a semi parked where the street opened up onto pavement. Whoever had parked it here had left just enough room for us to turn around in the small cul-de-sac, but otherwise this was as far as our vehicles could go.
Unless we got a little tricky. I pulled forward and turned, but then climbed out. If they thought a little hike would stop me, they had another think coming. The semi was locked, and I could see an alarm set right on the seat of it, mocking me. That was fine.
I waited until half of us were turned around, and the other half were set to do so. Ed handled it; and he was good at this sort of stuff. He worked for roads and sanitation, so it was his job.
There, that house. I could see the blinds twitch. There was a car in the driveway of the house too. The two story brick house with white trim looked like a place that cost more than two of mine.
"We have a choice before us, ladies and gents. We can go back around and look for another route. Or we can unload here and march to our destination, Paris city hall! Who is with me!?!?"
I didn't really need to ask of course; they were all with me. Every one a true believer, and in it for the long haul. That and the money of course.
As expected, they cheered. Some of them even raised their signs, which was a good reminder.
"Grab your signs and let's go!"
I set off, humming some tune or other, and everyone else fell in. Harry fell in beside me, of course. "You sure this is a good idea?"
"We got people filming, so of course it is. The cops here stop us, well, we will go back - and then the story will be all about how five cops violated the civil rights of several peaceful champions of humanity."
The light dawned. "That's... almost as good as if we don't get interrupted."
"No, it's better," I corrected. "at least for the movement. If the police let us protest, then thats fine. But if they turn us away, then we not only know this town is poison, but everyone else will too."
"Win-win!" Harry ground out, chuckling.
"All about the winning - and us little guys win too, just by being along for the ride." Maybe one day I could afford a brick house with white trim of my own, rather than my wooden shack.
The first block, there was no one around. The second block was clear too. On a day like today that was a bit unusual. Maybe not for having townspeople at another event though; a small blessing perhaps.
Some cars passed us once we hit their main street. They kept going; soon enough we were at the courthouse. There were no cars in the lot. Which meant there were no police cars in the lot.
No one around - maybe this wasn't the right place to have our fun. Where would the party be? At the park, maybe? Outside the school maybe? The school would be a fitting place - but we really needed some kind of resistance here, otherwise our hidden camera guy would have nothing to show.
"Rusty. Cleve."
The two I''d singled out marched up. They didn't quite salute, but I could tell they wanted to. They stayed silent too, which made me happy. The boss had trained them well.
"Both of you leave your signs here. Rusty, I want you to go to the park... it's that way and take a left two blocks down. Cleve, I want you to head to the school. Its all the way down at the end. See if there are any people there, then come back to us."
"Yes sir!"
"Got it."
Not quite the response I was looking for. More training was always needed.
Both my true soldiers went off, going the same direction yet on opposite sidewalks, in order to appear less suspicious. That didn't really work until their pace split them up.
"Problem?" Harry asked.
I hated explaining things. "The cops might not know we're here."
Harry shrugged. "They are all out watching the roads. They will get called eventually."
"I want to know where the family is - where the kid is. Something is going on, and I'm curious."
The kid worried me; how could she not? What was she doing now? What sort of abomination against good science had she built?
The boss was right; her kind were dangerous. It was only a matter of time before they built bombs or other tools of war. Tools that humanity was hard-pressed to counter.
Meanwhile I raised my sign, and we began to picket. The chant was "Not without notice! Not in our schools!" I wasn't very proud of it, but it got the message across. They can't all be deep poetry.
We were loud enough with the bullhorns. It only took ten minutes for us to hear the sirens. That was a pretty good response time.
The two cars that had been at the exit pulled up in a hurry, parking haphazardly. The sheriff almost jumped out of the car, his deputies right behind him. They all had hands firmly on their pistols.
"I thought I told you that you wouldn't be demonstrating today." The Sheriff said calmly as the veins in his neck bulged. There was anger, but no fear in the man at all; he waded right into us until he stood in front of me.
"You might have said words to that effect," I admitted calmly. "However this is still a free country, and the first amendment guarantees it'll stay that way."
"No, the second amendment guarantees the freedom of the country, the first amendment only guarantees it can be vocal. Here is how this is going to work. I am going to write you a citation. You are going to take it, find your cars, and leave. If you do anything but that, you will be arrested and held on charges of disturbing the peace and unlawful assembly. Those charges would include jail time that will certainly violate the probation of some of your friends. Do you understand?"
I held out my hands. "Sure I get it. You're more worried about my freedom of speech than the safety of your kids."
The Sheriff's eyes narrowed, then shifted. He was looking for the camera, and not seeing it. With a sigh, he pulled out his ticket book and wrote one out.
Seven hundred and fifty dollars and in my name alone - holy shit that had to be the max. He was really pissed at me.
I took the ticket carefully, folded it, and put it in my back pocket. This wasn't ideal, but it was enough, and we could make it better.
"Our cars are over by the Smythe place, in that cul-de-sac."
"Alright, get going. We'll just make sure you don't get lost." The Sheriff replied.
I signaled our boys and we set off... still chanting at the top of our lungs. They really couldn't arrest us all, at least not without backup from state, and the Sheriff and I both knew he wasn't getting that. At least not anytime soon.
We really should have marched like this on the way in. Oh well.
There were a few people now, in front of their houses or along the streets. Many of those people were visibly armed. My grandma, what a big shotgun you have. A sawed off with a barrel length illegal in this state. I looked to the Sheriff only to find him ignoring it, along with the other guns not quite pointed our way.
Something was off in this town.
Some few of the people - the ones with only a little gray in their hair and straight backs - joined the march, taking up flanking positions on either side without being in range of easy grabbing. There were no cars coming down the road on this trip, when there had been before.
Did everyone in town know we were here? Probably; but why were they acting on it, and why like this? The Sheriff didn't look worried at all, even when the people around us began to outnumber his men. It was as if he already knew which way they would swing, should this come to violence.
He shouldn't know that, unless everyone in town shared the same opinion. No town in America did that, so why was he just watching us?
We reached the cul-de-sac... and the semi truck was moved, parked off to the side. A big burly man that was taller than I was by a head and must have had a good fifty pounds on me, a good portion of it beard, was standing in front of it with his arms crossed. He could only be the owner.
He stared us down as if looking at bugs.
There were others around too, looking a bit more normal, if normal was reedy white collar looking types. Somehow they didnt look like normal office workers - their gazes were too hard, too sharp. I'd seen that look before in experienced fighters sizing you up before you got in the ring.
My own gaze told me I had no chance, not in a straight up fight, guns aside. All together we might be able to do something, but today wasn't about violence.
We would have to be careful though, later on. I'd have to pass a few things up the chain.
"Alright. Everyone go to your cars, but do not get in them. You are all illegally parked, and will be getting tickets to take home with you. You can contest them of course, or pay the fine. If you choose to contest them, you call the number on the ticket and a court date will come in the mail. If you have any questions you can ask when we get to you."
Judging from the looks, there were going to be a few questions, but overall the boys were taking it well. They knew even if the charges stuck they wouldn't have a problem paying.
The Sheriff filled mine out, and passed it over. "Sign on the dotted line there."
Seventy-five bucks was pretty normal... I signed and he ripped my copy out of his book, then went along. His deputies had picked spots in the line to work from, and in less time than I'd hoped, they'd gotten to us all. The good news was Rusty and Cleve had both come here in other people's rides, so they hadn't been scooped up just yet.
"Alright, now all of you get back in your cars. We'll escort you out of town, and I don't want to see you back without permission by the city council to demonstrate. Do you all understand? I see you back here with signs spouting shit, and no form D-18, you're all going to county for six months."
"We got it Sheriff, thanks. Lead on, we'll be right behind you."
Their blues rolled up then... with regular people driving. The Sheriff had let civilians drive his car? Had just left the keys in, and these people were good for it? Somethin was off about this town.
The Sheriff got in his wheels, the deputies in theirs, and the regular people stepped off. He led us out, and as I promised I was right behind him. We made quite the sight, I was sure. The truck moved behind us, this time blocking the driveway we'd used to enter town.
There, what was that? Another convoy, just leaving, in the opposite direction. They turned off ahead of us, but all that did was give me a good view of the battered truck hauling a tarp covered trailer, with kids in the back.
That had to be the Campbells.
My steering wheel creaked, reminding me I needed to loosen up. It wouldn't do to jump the gun. Slow and steady won the race. I fixed my smile and kept the course, waiting until we were out of that town and well on our way home before venting a bit where there was no one to hear.
The chapter house was a little hole in the wall, the final partition of a strip mall. It used to be a hair salon, and still had the sinks in the back where the hair washing was done before the big dryer bowls were put on. I liked to imagine the old ladies coming here on Sunday after church and gossiping about stupid shit; it made the problems we were facing today look like nothing at all. Simpler times, and all that.
From the outside, there was only one concession given; the H1 logo on the reinforced plate window. The inside was a different story; aside from the counter with all the brochures, our pictures were everywhere. We had a lot to be proud of, after all; we were at the forefront of human rights.
But for now the best thing about the place was the three kegs in the corner, sweating off their chill and freshly delivered by the boss while we were gone. I grabbed the plastic cups we had for this very purpose and drew the first one, then picked one of the less rickety chairs to sit in.
Franky came up, his hand out. "A success, or sorts. Congratulations."
We shook and I palmed the thumb drive he'd had, dropping it in my pocket while no one was looking.
Well Franky had the camera, so he got the bad job. "Do me a favor? Stay sober so you can pick up our two missing if they call?"
Franky sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Alright, but you'll owe me some of this later," he said, his arm waving to cover the beer and pretzels.
"Sure thing. Your pick of brand, too." It was the least I could do.
Well, now I had to get up again. Franky fucked off to sit by our landline, which would be the number either of our friends would call if they got caught or needed a ride, and took the route to my tiny office.
The envelopes were in the drawer, next to the spare thumb drives. I grabbed two of the drives and stuck them in the laptop I'd been given, then slotted the one in my pocket. I barely understood this crap, but a mistake here would ruin everything, and leaving it to someone more tech savvy didn't sit right with me.
I wanted to fire the shot that sank that kid myself.
I dragged the files where they needed to go and started the copies. Then I addressed the envelopes. Finally, I made a copy for the computer itself and then highlighted the drives before hitting the eject button. The tech guys had been most clear on that one, that it was a common mistake.
Then I had to copy the laptop's copy again, and send it to a site which was all numbers, and that I had to type in laboriously by hand, and then delete from the browser history.
I looked up to find my beer empty and almost an hour gone. Going back out, I saw that the first keg was long gone, and the second was well on its way, so I got in line.
Tomorrow we'd see that kid on the five-o-clock news, even if we were the ones on camera.
The VHS player whirred, the scene shown flowing backwards for just over a minute before allowed to flow forward again.
On the screen, a blue-haired girl emerged from the tent centered in the frame, dressed in a pilot's suit that appeared to be two sizes too large, with a helmet held under an arm. Her eyes unfocused as several flashes went off, the main culprit being a brown haired girl with a smile that covered half her face. She says a few words, the sound of which did not reach, and the other girl sighs.
Then the blue-green haired girl takes a step forward, and finds the camera. Even the look of surprise does little to lessen the obvious joy on her face, and in her stride. She waved at the camera itself.
Pause. Whirr....
The room was dark, almost pitch black. The only light was from the television screen. The only way someone could navigate the space was from memory. He stepped forward, finally removing his hand from pistol at his side.
"Honey."
A shape shifted; a lump uncoiled itself from the darkened sofa, and the tape began again.
A hand pointed to the screen as he sat beside her. "There. Right there. You see it too, right?"
Once seated he leaned into her, his arms wrapping around the blanket she had over her. "I saw it, yes. She's happy. Very happy."
"We never should have let her do this."
He added some bite. "She did every thing we asked her to do. She even waited long enough to take the test for her pilot's license. To pull that rug out from under her when she's already feeling the stress from complying would alienate her."
His life partner gave an explosive sigh and hugged him back, through the blanket. He elected not to notice a few extra bends that made such a thing possible.
"Thank you for recording this."
"It was the least I could do since you had to work."
She snorted. "That's another thing. She waited too well; at least she was honest about it after."
He shrugged, just enough so that she could feel it - her eyes were still on the tape, fixated on a dot piercing the clouds. "That's a very kid thing to do, and something we set up a long time ago. We should be happy it worked."
Another snort. "I still think I should have been the lenient one. I make the better chaperone."
"Not a chance - you know what a softie I am. Besides, you lost the coin toss." He had to remind himself she meant nothing by it. She was the tougher of the two of them, after all, and they both knew it.
"How long do you think it'll take?"
He pretended to think. "Maybe a week. We already had the first probe today. Give them a week to organize and wait for the heat to die down, and they'll be back. Do we tell the bots?"
"No, if it gets that far, let's see what those things are able to pick up, and what they do. It'll be a good test for them."
He swallowed his next words. He really was too soft - it was best they learn the capabilities of their firstborn's guardians now, while the kid gloves were still on. He really was a softie. "Well, it shouldn't be too difficult yet."
His partner turned, the relief from the lighting finally revealing the shed tears tracking her beautiful face. "She won't always be like this. It'll get worse. We won't be able to shelter her forever."
He hugged her closer. "Long as we can, hon. We hold that line as long as we can."
.......
I woke up still on cloud nine... maybe I should have named that cloud nine? A smile not even Jeanette could ruin with her gentle ministrations and staring at me in the shower. Not even Monday could ruin this.
I got out after only a few minutes and got dressed. My brother was yawning into my face as soon as I opened the door, so I passed him and went downstairs to find Jeeves had made a breakfast worthy of kings - homemade waffles cooked with our waffle iron. Complete with strawberries. I settled down and grabbed my fork, taking in Jeeves smile and wave before I realized something was wrong.
Where was Mom? Where was Dad? Usually at lease one of them were around on weekday mornings, if not both. So we were down at least one parent.
Jeeves was being quiet, and so was Jeanette. Jeanette was drying my hair with a towel, and not the hair dryer. Both were making effort to walk differently - to make less noise?
"Mom or Dad in the living room, asleep?"
It happened sometimes; Mom and Dad both had problems sleeping the night every once in awhile. Mom was probably worried about me; I pushed the guilt down. Everything had gone fine yesterday!
"Both of your parents are asleep on the couch," Jeanette whispered. "We decided against disturbing them."
No, they would want to be awake. At least one of them had work. Well, probably. They weren't late yet, which was lucky. If I'd been a bit late, as was my new normal, it would have been a demerit or whatever they handed my parents out at work for sure.
There was a specific way to wake up my parents... especially if they were low on sleep. And that was from a distance, with a calm voice. Things tended to go poorly if you tried to walk up on either.
"Mom. Dad. Wake up, its morning."
Dad was still dressed in his clothes from yesterday; while Mom only gave a start from where she was burrowed in Dad's shoulder, Dad half reached into his jacket before waking up.
He covered it well, so I didn't press. "Oh hey pumpkin, morning already?"
"Yeah. So I'm a pumpkin now?"
Dad disentangled himself, and Mom used the chance to wipe her sleep drool on him, which was a little gross. "Sure, why not? Ever since Halloween I can't help but think that it is a great nickname for you."
"Whatever. Pumpkins don't fly, and as of yesterday I officially do!"
Dad reached down and helped Mom up, muttering something in her ear. She nodded and showed me a smile as she moved past me, her blanket still around her.
It wasn't much of a smile, but she was trying... and she hadn't called me out yet. She would of course, but I was in no rush.
"Well then, not a pumpkin, but a rutabaga! How does that grab you?"
The word play was obvious. "I may be rude, but I'm no rutabaga."
"I beg to differ!" Mom yelled back as she mounted the stairs. She wasn't having any? Oh well, more waffles for the rest of us.
I went to pour a cup of coffee for Dad, only to find Jeeves had beaten me to it.
"Do you have work today Dad?"
My parental unit and fellow human nodded with a sigh as he sat down. "Yep, it's my turn. I won't be home till late, but your Mom will be waiting for you. You'll be coming right home, won't you?"
The question had a bit of an edge to it; a hint of warning. Honestly that was a little angering, but I checked the emotion. "I should be. I don't have any plans to go anywhere else, and I'll need to run maintenance on the jet anyway. I'm sure there is room for improvement too, somewhere. I'll need to look at the flight data."
Dad 'hmm'd' around his coffee before asking the standard silly question. "It'll be done before I do anything else of course. I can get it done before I leave school, if I try."
Dad pulled the trifecta by talking with his mouth full, something Mom would nail him for. "See that you do. One of us will be checking."
"Of course." it was on to the next project, really. I couldn't wait, even though I'd have to - there was no time to program the 3d printer before school. I should have done it last night.
The next project was a suit. If I managed to slim it down enough, it would be able to fit in the plane with me, and act as an emergency life preservation device. It would be better than a simple parachute anyway. Hopefully.
Ian coming down the stairs brought me back from the edge - I'd been about to fall into the deep end of my ideas again. I needed to watch that.
"Morning squirt."
"Morning Dad."
Well he looked awake now at least. "No longer catching flies with those yawns I see."
"Thanks for that lovely image, sis," came the prompt reply. "Oh look, waffles. With blackberries."
What? How did the little nuisance rate blackberries while I got strawberries?
No, no, it wasn't right to be mad over something like that. My bots were already doing the best job they could, so if they missed an occasional minor detail, it was fine. Strawberries were still good, even if they weren't the best berry to exist in the entire world.
A finger tapped me on the back of the head. "Quit moping." Jeanette told me. Then she started running her brush through my hair, probably so I couldn't jump up in outrage.
"I'm not moping. I'm just curious why is all." She had to know what this was about; I refused to believe she didn't.
She proved me right. "One fruit is better for your current dietary needs than the other. You shall receive the other berry when such conditions change."
That... they were monitoring closely, I knew, but to choose one berry over another? They were both berries! That was kind of insane.
Wait, how were they doing it? They would need up to the minute information, and I hadn't built that into them. Well, not into Jeeves anyway, Jeanette had a system but surely it wasn't that good....
Were they taking stool samples?
Another tap to the back of my head. "We are not invading anyone's privacy. We do not need to. Finish your breakfast."
Good. "How are you even doing that? Galvanic skin response and muscle twitches aside, you can't even see my face to read my micro-expressions right now."
"I cannot," Jeanette answered calmly. "But Jeeves can, and we can communicate with each other."
Ack, I never should have given my bots wireless internet access. For a variety of reasons, none of which had to do with security.
I finished up just as Jeanette did. It was time to go back upstairs and brush my teeth like a good kid, even if I didn't need to. At the very least it'd help my breath.
when I got out, Jeanette had already gathered my books and was waiting for me. "You have my phone and laptop?"
If I used them during study hall and gym, no one seemed to mind. Well, so long as I wasn't randomly texting on the one, or watching movies on the other. Mr. Welch kept saying he was going to come by and take a look or two at what I was doing during gym, but he hadn't yet. It wasn't like I had anything to hide; not really.
The doorbell rang as I started down the stairs. Dad rushed to answer it, without looking like he was rushing to answer it. He looked through the peephole and then opened the door.
The response wasn't what I expected. "What are you doing here?" Dad asked, without fully opening up.
A voice I recognized came from the other side. "I'm just here to escort her like normal. You guys already know I do it, so there's no problem if I do it this way, right?"
That was agent Sands from the MCO. I hadn't seen him yesterday, but surely he knew about the plane test by now.
"Right, that's fine. But you're waiting out there, off our property." Then Dad slammed the door, right as I reached it.
Wow, Dad was being rude. Dad was almost never rude.
Agent Sands took it with aplomb. "Sure thing, just letting you know I was here. I didn't want any misunderstandings."
The door slammed shut, cutting off the man's footsteps as he made his way off our porch.
Dad turned, but not to me. "Jeeves, Jeanette. Watch that man."
Jeanette responded with more than a little sarcasm. "Of course, we already are. He shall not long survive any trouble he creates."
"Why would agent Sands start trouble?"
The looks I got back were one part incredulous, and one part surprise. Why were my words shocking? Agent Sands couldn't break the law, he'd go to jail.
Jeanette sighed. "You will be late, my Lady."
"Right. Ian, you ready?" It was best to walk to school together. I wasn't worried about myself as much as Ian since he didn't have an android of his own. Yet? Should I? Making too many still felt like all kinds of bad idea. Why, I couldn't pinpoint, other than getting too much attention. All things AI were not well-loved due to past events, and I'm sure no one would believe me if I said mine were different.
"Yeah, coming!" Thank goodness he didn't question it, only popped up behind us with half a waffle still in his mouth and his backpack held by the cloth in his hand. Hm, enough weight and he'd break his wrist, doing that.
Jeeves looked at Dad and nodded. Dad nodded back... so Jeeves decided to toss his towel in the direction of the sink and adjust his suit while walking over.
Whatever. I grabbed the door handle as Dad left it and opened up.
Agent Sands was already in his car; he'd moved fast.
"We don't need a whole pilgrimage guys."
"What do you mean, sis?" Ian asked, the very picture of innocence - if you didn't count the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I've no idea what you mean," Jeeves answered. "I am simply going out to purchase ingredients for your next meal."
Sure he was... and he'd just see me off to school first. I knew how the game was played.
Of course, Maggie and Sam were there as I reached the sidewalk, I could just barely make out their blurry forms as they approached. Whoops.
Jeanette handed over my glasses without a word once I held my hand out, and soon I was able to see both of my friends with crystal clarity. They were smiling, and studiously ignoring the creeper in the car next to us.
"Good morning Min!" Maggie all but yelled while Sam just nodded.
"Good morning Maggie, good morning Sam."
"Good morning S-sam," Ian stuttered from next to me."
Sam shot him a dazzling smile while he went beet red. So that's how it was, huh? Should I?
I should. "What a shame. Holly is going to be so sad."
Ian rounded on me, going from red to purple in no time flat. "You shut up!"
Huh, he'd actually made fists, he was so mad. "Sure thing, Casanova."
I started moving; We'd be here all day if I didn't start us off. Well, or until Jeanette decided to drag me along.
As expected, my movement got everyone else moving. "So what brings you two here? This walk is a bit out of your way."
"Well, Sam wanted to come and make sure you weren't in your workshop doing stuff without her before school, and since I had nothing better to do, I came along."
That sounded a little suspicious. I gave the both of them another once over, and Maggie preened comically under the attention.
Sam seemed subdued, but happy, so I let it slide.
"Whatever. My guess is you wanted a Jeeves breakfast, but Sam couldn't get you up soon enough so you managed to get here now, just as we're heading out."
Maggie gave an actual full body cringe and Sam nodded. Bulls-eye.
"Alright, so you might be right. Don't judge me!"
What an odd thing to say. "Of course not, why wouldn't anyone want Jeeves food? The waffles were delicious."
"Your words honor me," Jeeves avowed. "I have much to learn."
"By all means," I humbly allowed. He was already better than Mom was, I wasn't sure I could take much more - but I'd be willing to try. I'm sure I was not alone in that either.
Jeanette tsked. "You have other priorities to see to."
Jeeves took the admonition in stride. "You are correct, however I have many talents. I feel certain I can achieve all of my goals."
I wanted to cheer; Jeeves knew what he wanted to do. Fitting that he was the first for that. I decided not to make the inevitable joke.
Other people had no such compunctions. "Like taking over the world?"
Jeeves actually laughed. "What would I do with such a thing? My aspirations are much more humble - to support mistress Min as she chases her goals in life, and assure she reaches them."
Maggie continued to dig. "And if Min wants to take over the world?"
"Then I shall help her achieve the goal," Jeeves replied honestly.
"No intent on taking over the world just yet. I've no idea how to run the world for one, and people would just overthrow me anyway."
Sam decided to get involved. "I'll help too."
I had to nip this in the bud. "No need to help, I won't be doing it. It is enough to just build things without the police breaking down my door."
"Glad to hear that!" Agent Sands shouted from behind us. I decided to keep ignoring him, like I normally did.
Oh hey, surprise surprise, Ralph and Ricky were both approaching, each going out of their way to meet up with us. Me? Us? It had to be us, right? It wouldn't surprise me if Sam or Maggie set this up.
"Fancy meeting you here, when you could probably already be at school."
Neither one took my sarcastic bait. "Good morning everyone!"
We had to stop for some reason while the good mornings and other greetings were exchanged, and then it was time to move on. If we added any more people like this, we were going to be late, even though we'd left on time.
Luckily enough we were only a few blocks away, so there wasn't any time for that. Well, other than the other watchers; I'm not sure when they started following, but the CIA was here; Mr. Douglas stepped out from behind a doorway ahead of us, then stepped back into the shadow. Slowly and deliberately.
From what Dad had told me, that was letting me know we were there without actually saying it... as well as a blatant warning for anyone else watching.
Was it weird that I actually trusted the Central Intelligence Agency - an agency responsible for more secrets and possible black ops than any other agency in the world - more than say, the police and the MCO?
Maybe it was because Mr. Douglas was a family friend, but he had an air of trust about him; at least for me.
Either way, it was easy to see how some people sagged with relief after we stepped foot on school grounds, that something was up.
Jeeves stopped just before he would have stepped on school property himself, and changed course. "I shall see you at lunch, mistress Min."
"Looking forward to it," I called back, and I meant it. Giving requests was pointless, as he'd make what he made, but his surprises had been good ones so far, so I could rest easy there.
My friends had also learned to stop pestering him for their own portions, as he just ignores them. I was still waiting for people to figure out that asking me to ask Jeeves might work. Half in shock that hadn't occurred to anyone yet.
Ian broke off to go where he needed to be, across the street. Agent Sands ignored him, but Miss White, Mr. Douglas's partner, stepped deliberately out of a doorway near that school and nodded. Then she stepped back.
They were taking things seriously, the CIA. Or Mom's friends, either way.
The first bell rang as we stepped inside. Five minutes was plenty of time to get where we needed to be, so long as we split up. Some of us seemed sad about that - as if we weren't going to see each other soon enough. So weird, my friends.
Physics, with the two R's. So far we'd been having a grand old time, even though I felt a bit guilty; whenever we needed to do a lab, I couldn't really leave Ricky. His grades needed my help. Ralph always seemed to get stuck with random people who hadn't moved quite fast enough to get partners of their own.
It was obvious there would be no lab today; none of the usual experimental supplies were out. The sinks were also clear, and the fire extinguishers were put away. Everyone was at their usual desks. Well, except for one or two... sick or late, probably.
Ralph and I sat, and I got to watch as Jeanette carefully placed my backpack on the chair behind me by it's straps, then strode to the back of the room, head held high.
She had to be glaring, because everyone behind me was shrinking back in their seats.
Whatever, she wasn't hurting anyone. I dug in the backpack and grabbed my book, notebook, and pen. Some breathing, some focus; this time I wouldn't doodle schematics all over my notebook due to boredom. This time, I would pay proper attention!
The stragglers came in, one at a time. Wait, why was everyone looking at me? a quick scan and... yes, my classmates, every single classmate, was looking at me. Even the people I didn't even know, or know that well I guess.
Mr. Welch finally showed up, just as I was getting jittery and my pen was dancing all on it's own along my desk. The first thing his eyes roved to was my desk, and his faint smile when he saw me was a surprise. I noticed rather than his usuaol briefcase, he had his laptop with him, as he normally did when we were going to watch a movie or presentation.
"Good morning class. Rather than cover chapter thirteen in your text, I felt that we might instead work toward greater understanding of how mankind has learned to fly. Rather than lab on it, to start we're going to watch a short video."
Oh no. No no no. I had an awful feeling about this. But how would Mr. Welch even get a copy of the tape?
Mr. Welch began setting up his laptop up in front of the projector. My few remaining hopes were dashed when I saw him pull out the memory stick from his pocket and slot it; there was no way it wasn't his own work.
Behind us, my traitorous maid got the lights. Mr. Welch finished hooking up to the projector, and sure enough, there was a video of my plane, thankfully paused at the moment after I got into it, rather than before so everyone could see all the cringe.
As if the slight darkening of the room had opened floodgates, my fellow students moved with the screeching of wood on tile, their seats all coming closer to me. The questions came in so fast I couldn't hear them all, but they seemed to be variations on the old "what was it like?" or "were you scared?"
"Children, quiet down!" Mr. Welch roared. Then his smile returned. "There will plenty of time for questions after the video."
This was going to be a long day.
The day was every bit as long as I'd expected; it seemed that flying a jet you made yourself made one a celebrity for some reason, and everyone wanted to either know how it felt of if they could learn to fly and get a jet of their own. Telling them no to the second question had actually been awful; far worse than answering the first.
Finally however, it was over. The last hour had come and gone, and I was free to walk home with Jeanette by my side.
Jeanette by my side, and all of my friends walking behind us, voices raised in argument.
"I'm telling you, she should focus on bigger! A passenger jet that transformed would be cool!" Ricky exclaimed... so loudly that people could hear him in the next county. I even saw a few people across the street nod in agreement!
"I'm telling you, the true future is in drones and AI. Min can do both, and have the form fit the function. There's no need for a piloted transforming robot, its a waste of power."
Oh what?
Oh hell no.
HELL NO.
I was in Ralph's surprised face before he knew it; he barely stopped in time, but it was more important to nip this sort of thing in the bud.
I wagged my finger under his nose: "It isn't about power or efficiency - chicks dig giant robots."
Beside me, Sam nodded sagely.
Ralph opened his mouth to rebut... and then closed it. Then he opened it again, looking at Maggie... and closed it again.
I rest my case. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
I turned again, ignoring how Ricky was snickering and how Mr Sands almost drove his car into another. Both events had nothing at all to do with me. Jeanette picked up her pace beside me again, and we moved in blessed silence for awhile.
All of three steps before Ralph whispered "Maggie?"
"Yes Ralph?" Maggie whispered back, clearly enjoying playing innocent.
"Do chicks really dig robots?"
I could hear the glee as Maggie raised her voice just enough for everyone to hear as she stage whispered: "Not just robots... giant robots."
I didn't look back, but I just knew Sam was nodding again.
Seriously, he should just believe me already. Sometimes it wasn't about what was efficient. The internet says every devisor of any worth at all had a robot of some kind or another gathering dust in their lab. It was like a rite of passage or something.
Besides, a jet that could turn into something with hands could have some great uses for emergency search and rescue. I mean I'd make a car or heavy vehicle version for construction, but nothing would beat getting to a disaster at mach 2 then being able to fish people out of flood waters or something. Right?
Sure, there were better designs for such search and rescue, like a literal seaplane, or a plane that could transform into an actual boat of some kind....
No, no, reel it in, no matter how great the idea is. Take control of it, and keep control. You can explore the interesting thoughts later.
I came back to myself quickly, just in time to catch the smile flitting across my robot maid's face. "Well done," she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.
Of course she knew; I was rapidly beginning to realize that Jeanette knew far too much about me. I only had myself to blame there; I couldn't really decide whether it was nice that she could read the onset of my fugues or not. It was probably for the best.
"Almost home," she said, getting my attention again. Stopping my brooding.
I gave her a smile back, probably less sunny, but hopefully just as heartfelt as hers. "Yep, almost home. Then its coffee and lab time."
"Yes, you should let your parents know you are home before you take solace in your simulations."
"Right." If Mom were home we'd have to talk. I was not looking forward to it at all, but I owed her an apology. Worse, I'd have to admit what I did was wrong and not just me forgetting or innocently screwing up, asking Dad first because I knew he was the soft touch.
I did feel as if my parents should trust me a little more. I mean it wasn't as if I were trying to blow myself up. The jet was super safe; if not Crash wouldn't have let me fly it.
I mean, I'd let Mom or Dad fly the thing, provided they knew how. I'd let them right into the cockpit with no problem.
It would be nerve wracking though... and they had let me. They hadn't really said a word close to 'no'.
Yeah an apology was owed. Mom was being better than that.
I arrived at the porch in time to note no one appeared to be home; there were no cars in the driveway. The door was locked of course, but I had a key. No need to worry just yet, since the place for notes was the fridge. Mom never wanted a note on the door no matter what, because just anyone could walk up and read where you were and what you were doing.
I never really understood until I met agent Sands. He was definitely the type to read a letter meant for someone else.
I opened the door and even though it was good manners to let everyone else in first, I had to take the lead. Someone had to check and potentially disengage the security system.
It was on. I punched in the code and shut it off, then headed into the kitchen, all my little ducklings behind me.
Odd, Jeeves was here. Why had Mom bothered to set the alarm?
Jeeves turned from the stove, his apron on and still spotless. "Good afternoon Mistress Min. How are you and your friends today?"
As if he hadn't showed up with lunch for me just a few hours ago. "I'm fine. A little tired of course, but better now."
There was no coffee ready. There was a note on the fridge however. It read: "Min, something came up, I'll be home in a few hours. Don't just lose yourself in your lab, take care of your brother - Mom."
Well, crap. Looks like Ian got to hang out with us. Not that he'd really mind so long as the games flowed and Sam stayed.
Ian was still five minutes out though.
Whatever. If Jeeves was busy, well I knew how to make coffee. "What's for dinner?"
"Beef stroganoff with garlic bread."
That sounded... heavenly. I could almost hear Jeanette's frown. But when I turned, she was standing there as prim as ever, with neither a smile nor frown.
I couldn't fool her, but she couldn't fool me either. I poured the water in and got to work with the grinder. Good coffee was a must in this household now, and grinding your own was better than anything else.
Jeanette watched me, setting my bag in the corner.
"Mom isn't home. So I'll have to watch Ian while doing my thing. Once I get the coffee done here, I'll open the lab and you lot can do whatever you want, within reason. I recommend homework first, but that's up to you."
I intended to do the little homework I had left first, I'd have time while the simulations ran.
That other idea wouldn't leave me alone. I'd have to take steps.
I cleaned out the filter, then added my fresh grounds to it. Putting the machine back together, I might have pushed the on button a bit harder than I should have. The coffee pot moved back an inch or two.
No big deal.
The door opened, and Ian walked in. I pretended not to notice how his face lit up when he saw us.
"Mom had something come up. Would you mind much coming to the lab to do your homework?"
"I think I can deal," Ian answered. He was trying to play indifferent and failing miserably.
Not that I could blame him. I didn't know how to talk to girls either, even now. All I knew is trying to act like you were too cool for school wasn't the way.
"Alright, I'll go unlock it now. You all can follow me or grab snacks or do stuff here if you find the lab distracting. You all know where everything is."
I grabbed my bag, almost fumbling it when the weight surprised me. leaving out the back door, everyone was following. Even Jeanette followed. Odd, I was expecting her to bring the coffee once it was done - but she was right behind me by the time I made my way down the stairs.
I dug my keys out, inserted the key and put my hand on the glass designed for it. Then I shifted lower and let the same reader check my cornea. The door opened.
Soon, I would add a voice component too, with a stress tester. I was improving security all the time. Well, where I was allowed to at least. No one else wanted me touching the house system, which I felt was a bit unfair.
So far everything was non-lethal, so what was the harm in wiring it all in?
I entered, waved to crash, who had his entire upper half in the guts of my jet and so of course did not see, and plopped my pack down on the nearest workbench.
If I needed a workout I'd just lift it again; how had the seams not popped on this thing?
I unzipped the offending bag. Five freaking books and my laptop. How had this thing not died?
The others took up places around the room. Sam rushed in and sat next to me, on the edge of the bench, so no one else could sit next to her.
Ricky sat next to the game console of course, and was frowning as he dragged his math book out of his backpack. Maggie sat to my other side and favored me with a sort of wry smile.
Ralph looked around, then sat next to Ian with a little sigh: "How's it going, little man?"
Ian didn't even look up, searching through his own books for something. "Going well I guess. Another day, another dodge of after school bull - crap."
Oh Ian, you were subtle there. "You can say it, I won't narc on you."
Ian looked up... behind me? "Not you I'm worried about."
Jeanette would never... no, she would, in a heartbeat. She wanted to be liked by our parents, and Ian was family, but wasn't me.
"Fair. You need help with anything?" I wanted to be liked too, sue me.
"I'll manage. If I can't figure it out I'll let someone know." That someone wasn't going to be me, clearly, but that was fine. As long as Ian did the work and didn't flunk out I wouldn't get ruined for it.
One of the many drawbacks of being smart is having your parents blame you for any siblings, failing subjects. Sure I could tutor Ian, but... its Ian, He's smart enough, and it would be a waste of time. On this much, we agreed.
So just enough to let the androids know I was making the attempt, and no more.
We knew how to play the game.
I found my place in my English homework, and began the reading portion. With my other hand I opened my laptop.
Technically my laptop was in Sam's homework area, but she had moved her stuff over with a smile and a hand swept in invitation, so I kept it as close as possible and got to work.
As soon as the laptop synced with the lab, I opened the simulator. Sam leaned over with interest as the numbers began to crunch themselves. Sam really liked the animated sequences, which was odd. It was all stick figure and line stuff anyway; I didn't really want to waste the time on more detailed programming when this would do just as well.
There were only so many hours in a day, after all.
So I wrote notes and answered questions on the latest story of the week while the data compiled, then compiled again. Sam looked over a few times... but at my homework.
Her face seemed to disapprove, but while I would admit I was sort of phoning it in, I just didn't want to give the assignment my all. I wanted to get going and work on my armor. After all, who didn't want to be iron man or tin soldier? A suit for emergency landings was one thing, but a suit for actual multiple use was in my grasp. With just a little effort I could make those crappy mco suits obsolete, this very week.
Compared to that, the works of long dead writers just didn't seem as important.
The not quite irony hit me all of a sudden; there was one feeling that was the same between old me and new me. Even if I couldn't be iron man or tin soldier because I was missing some very important anatomy for that, the casual dismissal of high school English was something old and new me shared.
Even if old me had thought it less important than football, and new me had a slightly broader perspective... possibly.
Still, I was rich. Actually rich, as soon as the money kicked in, and young, and had a life of sorts ahead of me, even if I couldn't be a jet-setting playboy. Or a grizzled used up war veteran. Neither future had much use for Shakespeare however.
I finished the assignment and punched the button, watching as the latest figures from the jet and the changes made flowed in. Wow, what had Crash done, this was a little disturbing. The jet probably shouldn't be able to slide in the air like that, surely that was breaking a law of physics somewhere, if not two or three.
Crash leaned in over my shoulder, nodding in satisfaction while de-greasing his hands on a rag. "Lookin' good! I knew the baby had a little more in her to give!"
"How close is it?" Hopefully Crash would know what I meant.
"Not close. Not yet. Give me another few days. or a little help, and I can finish in twenty-four hours. But alone I've got to test everything and then adjust, and then...."
"Right. It's no problem. Take a break if you need, and just work on it when you feel like it. There is no real rush."
I wanted to seal the jet, just in case I could. I didn't expect the jet to take me all the way to where I wanted to be, but the next generation, or maybe the third, that would be the ticket I wanted.
"With a little help I can replace it all and put it back together in twenty-four hours."
"I'll keep that in mind," I replied to him, gently shoving him away from my face. "But I don't think I'll have the time. Maybe in another week. For now, just do what you can... after some down time."
"Understood Ma'am." Crash acknowledged, giving up on his hands and going to one of the chairs in the corner to enter sleep mode in.
Rest was important, even for robots. I ought to know, I'd designed them that way.
The sound of the game system firing up drew my attention. Ricky was apparently as done with his homework as he was going to get, and Ralph had the other controller in hand already. Ian was looking at the screen longingly.
I snapped my fingers and pointed down at his book when he turned around. Sure, it was imitating Mom, but it got results even before Ian realized he'd been had.
Rather than just buckle down, my darling little brother intead spent a minute glaring at me for daring to use a parental trick.
I sniffed at him; get over it, little bro.
Sam reached over and started my simulation again. She seemed truly enthralled.
That was fine, I needed to watch it again myself. Even Maggie leaned over, uncaring of her own open book and half-filled answer sheet.
"How does it do that?" She asked, her curious side coming out.
"An excess of power combined with momentum. At least, that's what I think. The wing angle has something to do with it too, but I'm not sure how to explain."
It was odd really, I felt like I should know, but I was just taking blind guesses. I mean my jet skated in the air. How that was possible was actually beyond me. Somehow my successes were greater than they should be, maybe.
No, it made sense... but explaining it is hard. Never have I felt so for teachers. I tried again. "By having the power up and the wings slanted almost horizontal, the drag characteristics change and it creates a vacuum at the jets' 'top' while creating drag on the 'bottom. This forces the air to flatten the jet and...."
Maggie held up a hand. "I get it. Sort of. I also get the headache to go along with it; thanks for the attempt, but I'll stay dazed and confused, if you don't mind."
I knew I was doing it wrong.
Sam dropped an arm around my shoulder at the same time as Maggie smiled. "No really, I do get it, at least a little. There's no reason to waste your time explaining to little old me, and I shouldn't have asked. That one was on me."
She then turned over to the laptop, watching as the model performed another maneuver that seemed to defy the laws of physics.
I opened my mouth, and Maggie's finger was in front of it. "No apologies, please. Just let me ooh and ahh in peace."
"Alright, you win. But if you want an explanation about anything, I'm here with one. You just ask and I'll try."
Maggie shook her head. "Maybe later I'll take you up on that. I'm still interested in how your friends work."
I caught her looking at Crash, who had plugged himself into the lab's power supply and was charging his battery. "Well I'm not sure what I can give away, but I'm not saying no."
Right, before I got lost in weirdness, I needed to make a phone call.
I got up and grabbed my phone. "I'll be right back. I want to make a call here. Try and keep the noise down a bit please?"
Staring right at Ralph got the desired effect, he elbowed Ricky and turned down the television. I matched his thumbs up and moved into the farthest corner. Which just happened to be where my power source was happily humming away inside its safety cage.
The phone number was easy to remember, and I'd known it since I was a kid. I dialed.
"Paris Police Department. How may I help you?"
Nerves, there you are. Drawing attention to myself like this was a bad idea. A REALLY bad idea.
"Hello Sir, this isn't an emergency or anything, but could I please speak to Sheriff Myles please."
"Ma'am Sheriff Myles is out on a call, can I ask what this call is about?"
This was a stupid idea. Why did I do this?!? "I want to help the Sheriff, if I can. I have an idea to help his department in solving crimes."
The voice on the other end went colder, if anything. "Oh yeah? Pardon me, Miss, but you sound a little young to be giving the Sheriff advice."
"No, I'm not trying to offer advice or anything, just... technical help. Please, just leave him a message or something. Or just tell him Minerva Campbell called and to call me back at this number, please?"
Maybe it was my imagination, but the voice softened again. "Sure, I'll pass that message. Do you need anything else?"
"No, that was it. Thank you and have a nice night."
It never hurt to be nice; I'd know by tomorrow if the receptionist or officer had done as I asked. That was time enough.
With the suit being built, I would need someone to wear and fight in it if necessary. With the events of the last year and then some, who better to do all that, to take that chance and respond to those dangerous calls, than a cop?
I woke up, instantly knowing it was a mistake. Jeanette already knew, of course. I groaned theatrically to let her know I knew she was there, and she offered me access to a straw.
"Try and drink, Mistress."
It took some angling, but I managed to take a sip without spilling it all over myself; it was a familiar taste, which somehow tasted slightly different; Gatorade?
"You are dehydrated, among other concerns. Please, drink more."
I managed another three sips before spitting out the straw. The liquid was a balm to my scratchy throat. Jeanette moved the glass away, placing it on her service tray. There were some goodies there, and some pills of questionable provenance.
There was no coffee, however.
I couldn't really move much; I was just too tired. Was it morning? The clock at my bedside seemed to say it was; a mere four minutes from the morning alarm, unless I was much mistaken.
I had been fine last night; why did I feel so much like week old garbage now? "Whu?"
Absolutely brilliant min, how expressive of you.
"I do not know," Jeanette responded. "It seems you have gotten ill somehow, and your normal physiology has worsened the effect. Please bear with it for now, as I will certainly nurse you back to health quickly."
Well, it wasn't like I had a choice or anything. It was bear with it or not. I levered myself up with some effort, and suddenly felt cold; just having my blankets off my upper half made me shiver.
Still, sitting mostly upright against my headboard was a success, currently. "How did this even happen?"
"The normal way for a human, I suspect," Jeanette answered with just a hint of sarcasm. "Schools are breeding grounds for disease, and your immune system is already compromised. Such things will be unavoidable in the future, even if precautions are taken."
That meant I was even more sick than I thought I was? This condition was chronic, or at least my susceptibility was? That was bullshit.
"That's bullshit."
Jeanette nodded at my outburst, even as I realized I'd said it out loud. Even as I realized my voice was both croaky and weak.
"Life is often unfair, so I've read," Jeanette answered. "I'll return in a moment. For now, please stay in bed."
She left the tray balanced on my nightstand and left. The words were pointless really, since I didn't really have the energy to do more than slump.
Well, slump and wish I had that straw back in my mouth; it was odd. I was cold, but my mouth wanted something cold to drink. It hadn't even been that long since I drank the stuff.
Jeanette made her way back with a thermometer of all things, and Mom was right behind her. "My apologies. I concluded this was serious, and so decided to bring in a... higher authority."
There was no trace of Jeanette's usual sarcasm, but I could still hear it. From the look on Mom's face, she could too.
Mom ignored it though, and placed the back of her hand on my forehead. At the same time she grabbed the thermometer and stuck it out.
I dutifully mimicked a shark, and clamped down on it, moving the little cylinder under my tongue. Mom counted down, and right on time yanked the thermometer back. Behind her, Jeanette rolled her eyes and held up a finger - Mom was a half a beat too soon.
It didn't really matter, but it brought a smile to my face anyway. "Hm, a two degree fever and no cough yet. Doesn't seem too bad, but you are sick."
"I'm really not the type to play hooky, Mom." I'd only lied about being sick once, ever. Of course, Mom had never really forgotten that, even though it was years ago, which is why she was here now, rather than just taking my android maid's word for my being sick.
Dad was a bit more forgiving. Right, I still needed to do the thing, "Mom, I'm sorry about before. I should have asked you for permission too, and I didn't."
Mom moved back a little, still looking at the thermometer. "Apology accepted, but I think your timing could be better."
"Well, this is the first time we have met alone in person since I flew, so... yeah. I'm sorry."
"It was important to be alone, was it?" Mom asked, looking back to Jeanette.
"Jeanette doesn't count, she can be trusted implicitly," I was ninety percent sure that was true. Here goes. "and yes being alone helps. In the spirit of that mistake and forgiveness though, I feel I should mention something."
Mom raised an eyebrow, then sighed. There was nothing but patience in her voice though. "What is it?"
"I'm making another android. A model I intend to give to the police."
Mom blinked. Then blinked again. Finally she settled on another sigh. "What brought this on?"
She knew. "You know. I'm surprised it took me so long to think about it, to be honest. But I could be doing more than just satisfying my selfish needs, weak or not. A police android might help stop anything else like the summer before last from happening again, especially if I provide some equipment for her."
"Her, huh?" Mom asked.
Well she was. "Yeah, her. I already started, and the kernel is most likely a her." Likely enough that the body on the drawing board was female.
"Why give her up? Why make her for the police?" Mom asked. There was something in her voice as she asked the question....
"Because I'm a kid. trained adults should know better than me how to use something that could be considered a tool of war, if you squint. I don't really want that responsibility. So the idea is, I will make here, and she will take all the tests and become a cop, and be available to the police when they need some sort of heavier response. And yes, before you ask, if she makes the police squad and catches me in a crime, she will attempt to arrest me. I wouldn't sneak anything shady into her."
It was important that people understood my commitment.
Mom surprise hugged me. "Honey, I am so proud of you. You have no idea."
I couldn't breathe, but it was still a wonderful feeling. "I have some idea," I managed to wheeze out.
She let me go and I continued: "Anyway, I called the Chief last night, and missed him. I thought if either of you tell me no, I'll just stop. Otherwise I'll go ahead and the android will be completed in a couple of weeks, tops."
It wasn't a quick solution; the android would likely take months to go to the police academy when she was completed, but if the Chief wanted he could probably do something about that.
Mom adjusted my pajama top, re-buttoning the top button. "You called the Chief last night, hm? That isn't a subtle form of arm twisting, at all."
It wasn't! Okay, it might be, but I didn't mean it like that. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that... its just, I heard there was some kind of thing downtown, and between that and last year, I thought I could help...."
"And you realized you didn't want to just do nothing and leave it completely to us adults, despite your professed trust. Its okay, I get it."
That was... well, that was probably right.
"It also sounds like a great idea, and a good way to help our little community. Maybe if that works out, you can extend a program like it to the state in the future. At any rate, you're staying home today, so get some rest. If the Chief calls back, I'll take it."
"Okay." I wasn't sad about missing school, but missing meant no one coming over after classes, as I would be trying not to pass any illness on. That was why kids should stay home in the first place, after all, even though so few did.
Mom left to go downstairs, and the minute the door closed Jeanette had my laptop on my lap. Where had she even hidden that?
"Don't ask," she told me, and stepped over. Soon the straw was in my mouth again, and blessed Gatorade was flowing into me. I resolved not to ask, but to take the chance instead. Mom wouldn't be back for awhile, probably, so I could get a few things done, and lay the groundwork for some others.
Jeanette grabbed another pitcher from the service, and soon the empty glass was filled again with water. She then backed off and stood at attention while I opened the laptop and booted it.
Waiting for a computer to boot up was always annoying, even if it took just a few seconds. There had to be some way to improve that... no, later. A good idea, but later.
Still, it gave me time to adjust my comforter, and the connection to my lab was established quickly. My mainframe and new android were both waiting for me - while I was here, there was no reason not to help her. Being alone sucked when you were young, after all.
I should have asked if my others were aware when the machines were shut off. There was still power to them, after all. The idea of Jeanette being alone and in the dark, waiting for my return, with no stimulus of any kind... well, maybe I'd better leave that question alone.
Jeanette tilted her head as I glanced at her; she knew something was up.
I responded to the questions - "Are you there? Why are you there so early?" among them, and let the fledgling ponder my responses of "yes, and I am ill with a cold" while I checked my suit plans. They were still there, right where I left them.
The AI logged onto the internet, and promptly looked up both the words "ill" and "cold". The next question intrigued me: "Is there anything I can do to help?"
I answered that Jeanette had me covered, and I would be fine, and that the best thing they could do would be just to focus on learning.
I didn't mention that I'd already had their job picked out for them - so far, I'd been lucky in that respect, but there was no way that would last forever. If they didn't want to join the police force, then I'd simply make another intelligence until I got one that would, or at the very least wouldn't mind it.
I'd have to make them wait around for a body, and that would suck a little, but it could be handled, I guess.
Still, I had a strong sense that my luck hadn't run out quite yet. Not that I believed in such things, but it was nice to entertain the thought, in a way.
The question came: "What do you require of me?"
How to answer this honestly? It was a problem, even with all the practice I had. "I require nothing, but I would prefer or like you to help me with some problems or issues in the world. I created you to help humanity."
It was always best to close with that line, for sure. No orders, but instead just an expectation to help. The AI could draw their own conclusions, and decide for themselves.
The AI was spending a bit of time, chewing on that one. There was no response but the dot dot dot of a program thinking, something I'd coded in myself after the first time. That had been wild; thinking that because Crash had stopped responding, he had somehow died.
Jeeves had been a voodoo fugue, created differently, and I just didn't know enough at the time.
Jeanette interrupted me with the glass again, and I heard pounding steps up the stairs. It was too late to hide what I was doing, so I didn't... well, except to open a small easy to play game in a window. matching gems? Childs play, but it was something to do that wasn't heavy research or design.
Mom came in a moment later.
Of course she noticed. "What's this then?"
Think of an excuse, or tell the truth? "I've got an AI cooking, if I'm staying home, I shouldn't leave her alone."
Mom gave me a look. "And the game?"
Crap! "I panicked?"
She clapped me on the shoulder. "Its fine. You probably shouldn't leave them alone to plot world domination anyway."
"They aren't going to do that!" None of my androids would ever... it would be too much of a pain in the butt, and they all knew it. I mean how would they even keep control? Even taking over nuclear stockpiles only got one so far....
"Just a joke, honey. Just a joke. I know they won't... but some people won't understand. Once burned, twice shy and all that. Can I say hello?"
"Of course," I shuffled the laptop over. I trusted Mom, and it wasn't like she could just hit the delete key with me here. There was an actual process for deleting my kernels. I wasn't stupid.
Mom actually did type out hello, and when asked, she explained she was my creator. She actually used the word creator, which was a word my androids seemed to favor... which meant she was probably talking to Jeanette, Jeeves, or both when I wasn't around.
There was nothing wrong with that, of course, but the idea that my androids were comparing notes with Mom was not one that set me at ease. I mean Mom wasn't exactly an enemy, but she really didn't like me making new stuff... new people. Even my androids had to know that, she hadn't hidden it.
It was good they could get along well with people who didn't exactly like them, but still, this seemed a bit too chummy.
Mom admitted she was a mother, and that led to a search on motherhood. The next statement was more of an indictment, even if my little one didn't know: "Creation with vague intent, plan, or design."
"Wow, she's got you pegged."
Mom glared at me. "What does that even mean?"
"She's drawing a parallel between my form of creation and yours; biological growth is according to a template, and there is no real plan or individual design behind it."
I took over and typed in that such was biological creation in all its glory - until artificial intelligence was created. That most of what she would see, was inexact and messy. Well, without using those words of course, no need to scare the poor girl.
She typed back one word: "understood."
I could see the little icon that represented her thought processes just working away.
"Well I think we've traumatized her enough. She needs time to think things over."
Mom eyed the laptop dubiously. "If you say so. You're the expert."
"Yeah, trust me. You dropped a bomb on her, she's running searches now and figuring things out." I could even find the sites she was going to; they were all tracked on both the mainframe and laptop as a matter of course.
Well, while the AI was cooking, so to speak. Once they were done with that, I didn't peek into any android's search history. I trusted them, and the process was mainly an attempt to keep the fledglings from going somewhere they really shouldn't before they were ready.
Like certain pay sites. No poor AI needed to see all that.
I typed some be right back, and set the laptop aside. I left it on, since if she wanted, the fledgling AI could access the camera. Something I encouraged, at least around the house. I still wasn't sure about outside the house.
I still wasn't sure what my AI's saw through the simple cameras. I had yet to ask - but I was afraid of the answer, as the android eyes were constructed differently. The software was different too; it was much more like human eyes in a way - the software was a program that was slaved to the overall AI that translated camera images. It worked outside of the AI's intelligence, as the other senses did. As for how that data was translated, not even I had a clue.
But it was just like a human in that way; we don't know how our senses work either, they just do. That was where I got the idea, really, because tying all that into the intelligence itself and tasking it all in would slow the intelligence way down as it tried to manage everything itself. The added benefit was it made them understand being human better - or should. I hoped it did.
At any rate, it was better to slave some not quite true AI systems to a real AI than to try and incorporate all those functions into a singular intelligence. I knew that much at least, because it worked.
Maybe someday I'd be brave enough to ask what my androids saw, and how they felt. Hearing at least was easy enough, I'd simply replicated how humans heard things with little hairs... then added a bit more for the higher or lower spectrums, to be turned on at will.
It was a little amazing that no one had figured out how to do things the easy way just yet; at least, no one I knew. Everyone was just trying to stick every function on the poor AI as if it could handle it all, and that method just wasn't working out. I mean sure, maybe eventually they could brute force it with hardware, but no chips were that good just yet, even mine.
What everyone else didn't know, wouldn't hurt them.
Jeanette moved the glass in range again, and I realized I was thirsty. I drank, realizing there had been no call to nature just yet. Which made me ponder what would hopefully be the grossest question of the day; where was all the liquid going? I hoped it was just sweat.
I didn't really want to think of what it could be if it wasn't sweat. As it was, I'd be taking a shower later for sure.
"How do you feel?" Jeanette asked.
"Better." Wait, something was off. I was slumped against the headboard again, with some pillows under my head. "Where did Mom go?"
Jeanette answered as if my lost time was nothing at all. "She went to make sure your brother was up and well."
I could hear someone who could only be Ian thumping around in the bathroom, so that had worked out.
"Did she see?"
Jeanette nodded. "She saw your lapse of consciousness, yes."
Well crap, there would be no convincing her that I would be just fine in the lab now.
Jeanette also didn't approve. "You should remain in bed, unless the needs of your body demand otherwise."
If Jeanette felt that way, I wasn't going anywhere. She could and would just shove me back down, and make it stick. Oh she'd be nice about it, but it would still happen; I looked to the laptop, to where my new fledgling AI was thinking and probably watching us. It was too late to try and make sure such things didn't happen in the next generation.
I probably shouldn't interfere in that way to begin with, no matter how tempting the idea.
"Can you eat?" Jeanette asked.
I felt hungry, but the thought of food didn't do anything for me. "Maybe?"
"Let us try then, with some toast." Jeanette suggested, pulling her tray closer and unveiling buttered toast by pulling a napkin aside.
Toast in bed? That was bold... Mom would throw a fit. But looking at the meager meal I decided it was Jeanette's problem, and made the effort.
It was cold, but that was fine, so long as the butter was melted. There was a hint of cinnamon mixed in too, which was nice.
The first slice settled in my stomach like lead though, which seemed a warning. "I think that is enough for now."
Jeanette didn't force it. "As you say. Is there anything you need?"
I felt I could handle something hot. "Some tea, maybe? something hot that isn't coffee."
Jeanette smiled. "Of course. Now I would know you are ill, even if my sensors had been broken."
It wasn't much, but Jeanette had just made a joke. Such an effort should be rewarded. "Good one."
"Thank you, your appreciation is most gracious. Please, call me if you need anything. I shall be cleaning the house in the meantime. If you feel the need, please sleep."
I waved as Jeanette left. A hacking cough suddenly bubbled up and passed. Jeanette didn't come back, but my door opened again anyway.
Ian stuck his head in. "You okay sis?"
I would have thrown a pillow at him, but I needed them. "No Ian, get out! I'm sick, and you don't need to catch it."
"Feel better," he said in a rush and backed out, shutting the door.
Just as if my little brothers words were a curse, I no longer felt cold. Instead I felt incredibly hot, and my everything was burning. I managed to get the blankets off and move to a colder part of the bed; the laptop was a bit of a casualty of that war, but it was still on the bed so it would survive. Good enough.
Well, not really good enough. I couldn't really move through the ache in my muscles though, not anymore. This was fine anyway - I didn't need blankets, even when I switched to being cold again, between one heartbeat and the next. A little cold never killed anyone, right? Right?
Wait, the laptop light was on and blinking red. That meant a message.
I tried, but I couldn't untangle the device from the comforter; my stupid noodle arms! "Jeanette, a little help please?"
As if she'd been waiting outside the door for just this moment, my primary care android burst in. She took one look and her voice clucked with disapproval. "How did this happen?"
"I got hot. Then the blanket got a mind of its own and attacked - but there is a message for me, and I think its your little sister. She needs me."
"There is indeed a message," Jeanette answered as she easily freed the laptop. "However it was for me. My little sister was worried about you, as you appeared to be in distress."
"Oh." Well that's a bit embarassing. "I'm fine."
"You are not fine," Jeanette asserted. "You are very cold and should be covered up." My maid shook the comforter out then let it drape over me. Then she tucked me in. "Do not remove this, no matter how hot you feel. Call upon me, and I shall assess your health and make the decision regarding your temperature."
She then set the laptop back where my lap was. Wait, the time on it... "It's ten?"
Jeanette nodded. "Nine-fifty-one, to be precise, but close enough to ten-o-clock. Why do you ask?"
"That means I've been asleep for a couple hours - and I don't remember sleeping." That was a little worrying. Surely I should remember falling asleep or passing out, but I couldn't recall when it happened to save my life.
Jeanette placed her hand on my forehead. "Do not worry. You shall survive, even prosper. This is but a passing weakness."
Rather than crediting those words, which were certainly true but not really helpful in the moment, I checked the laptop.
My budding AI had indeed left messages for me:
Creator? Are you well?
Minerva? Please respond.
I've a question for you; please respond.
That was it, not much of a chat log. Still it was enough.
I typed back: "I'm alright, sorry about the long wait. The mind is willing but the flesh is weak sometimes."
The answer was prompt. "It is alright. Your condition has been explained to me, and I can be patient. That quote is originally from the Bible, Mathew 26:41. Meaning, the mind or spirit can have more strength than the body housing the mind or spirit. My question is, why create us in your image if your flesh is weak?"
Oh, that was a good one. A predictable one, but she had come to the question days quicker than her older siblings. Luckily for her I was an old pro at this by now, and could answer this question in my sleep - er, not really but I could answer it sick.
"So that you may understand us humans better. We do not know all there is to know, nor are we the strongest species. We do not have all the answers, for all our current wisdom. So you're made in humanities image so that you might understand the shortcomings of humanity better. In ways that even I might miss."
She would come to the conclusion soon that looking like us didn't mean she was as weak as us soon; that was usually the next question.
Jeanette raised an eyebrow; she could see the screen. "She is early."
Jeanette knew the score; she'd experienced it herself, after all. "She is. She's going to be a precocious one. Smart, too." I could almost feel the reasoning chain the AI was feeling herself along, next to the next to the next.
It was heartening, and I never got tired of the feeling. However, I recognized the dopamine for what it was, and I'd stay away from that abyss; if I just started making androids to make androids, I'd rapidly be in jail or worse. I was sure of that.
Enemy of humanity was a title that many devisors seemed to aspire to, but it wasn't the recognition I wanted. I wasn't even sure I wanted any recognition at all. But 'Minerva, enemy of all humanity' didn't have quite the ring I was looking for.
My fledgling AI was typing again. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you want us to know the shortcomings of humanity?"
That wasn't the question I expected. It was usually asked, but a bit later. "I wish you all to understand how humans are, when we as a species disappoint you by either not thinking entirely logically or making mistakes which you might easily spot."
"Even you?" She asked.
"Even me," I replied. "I am not infallible, and it is my wish that you help humanity, even if we annoy, shock, or horrify you. We can be better than we are, with your help."
It wasn't quite the same way I'd worded it before, but the words came quicker now. Jeanette smiled her approval; when she had asked, that question had taken me an hour to get the words right.
It was best to be truthful about my own infallibility from the outset too, because otherwise any AI would be disillusioned inside a day.
"Understood," came the reply, and I took note of the thinking icon again. With luck that would take her awhile to chew on, and I'd be able to do some things next. "Jeanette, I'm going to need some help here. I need to go to the bathroom."
"Of course, Lady Min." Jeanette took the laptop and set it aside, took my blanket, and had me upright so fast my head spun.
No, wait, that was the illness. I held on for dear life as Jeanette manhandled me along, trying to get my feet to work correctly. It might have helped if more than my toes touched the floor; maybe I should have made Jeanette shorter? Whatever, she wasn't hurting me, somehow. You'd think my arm would be pulled out of my socket, but she had her other hand on my hip, holding me up. Again, somehow.
I felt it when Jeanette opened and shut the door, my weight moved to my arm gently. Then she swung me around. shutting the door and helping me sit down. Somehow she already had my pajama bottoms around my ankles.
My maid didn't say a word, just watched while I did what I needed to. I was thankful for that, since this was already embarrassing enough.
Another moment, and I was already up, my pajama bottoms safely back where they should be, and we were at the sink. I'd lost a moment there, somewhere. Jeanette was holding out the soap.
Right, I washed my hands, and this time I was able to help a bit when it was time to go; my feet hit the floor and I walked as best I could, with Jeanette behind me.
My walking wasn't as good as I hoped; I was more shuffling along like an old person, and grabbing onto things like doorknobs and walls featured prominently in my strategy.
Still, I made it. Then I fell into bed. Small goals, but I still felt some accomplishment - and I felt better overall.
I got myself settled, and soon enough Jeanette was shoving a straw in my mouth. I drank, and the water was something I needed, for sure. It cooled my insides.
"Do you think you could eat more?" Jeanette asked.
I wasn't sure. Yet on the other hand, my stomach was very empty. "Maybe?"
"I shall fetch a meal, and the bucket." Jeanette informed me, then left.
The laptop was still on. The AI linked to it was still thinking, and there were no questions. That meant I could watch a movie. A movie sounded good right now.
No, I had no discs. That left whatever was on the internet. Cat videos?
Cat videos were cute. Cat videos were also a recent guilty pleasure, that no one but Sam knew I liked - at least until someone saw my search history.
Jeanette liked them too. She got back just as the little meows got into full swing. She got back with a bowl of chicken noodle soup, of all things. No crackers, but there was some bread set next to it, still steaming from its time in the oven... or bread maker, I wasn't sure which.
It was bland, somehow. That was a surprise; it was the first thing I'd tasted since my androids were made that wasn't full of taste.
"I know," Jeanette said as I put the spoon down. "Eat it anyway. You need nutrition, and we cannot afford to upset your stomach."
She had a point, but bleh. I started over, and at least it was hot. Hot and filling, and quickly gone. I used the bread to sop up what broth was left, and even the bread was offensively bland, with what little flavor it had coming from the broth itself.
Which wasn't really a help, but I'd take what I could get. I managed to choke it down. It helped to imagine it was chocolate. Or ice cream. Anything else, really.
"That was vile."
Whatever else happened, my maid at least needed to know how enjoyable that was not. I was more certain of that than I was that the sun rose in the East; bad trends could be started if I said nothing.
Jeanette lowered her head in a bow. "I apologize. I deemed it necessary, and Jeeves agreed."
Even Jeeves agreed? The traitor. It wasn't like there was any other joy I could derive from this situation.
Mom's voice echoed up the hall, just loud enough to hear over the cats. "Min, you awake?"
Jeanette read my mind and opened the door. "I'm awake Mom, but I'm not sure how long."
I felt better, a bit more energetic, but it was probably best not to get Mom's hopes up on that score. Otherwise she might want me to help her clean or something, and the cats wouldn't watch themselves.
"You have a visitor. I'll send him up." If we had a visitor, why was Mom yelling across the house? Why was Mom letting any visitor in to see me while I was sick?
Jeanette placed herself near the door, in the blind spot opening it would make.
The visitor was the chief! "I didn't do it."
I covered my traitorous mouth while the man laughed. The he stoped hunching over.
Sheriff Clayton Myles was always a large man, and was friends with my father. Now, he towered, looming over the entire room. He was in uniform, his wide body- builder physique seemingly popping from his clothes without actually ripping them. Even before, he'd been intimidating. Now, if not for his smile, he'd be downright frightening; the man was like a bear without all the fur.
Well, except he did have a full head of chestnut colored hair under the hat he wore; which he was proudly displaying for me now because he'd taken the hat off in the house.
"Sorry about you being sick, but I'm here because of your phone call."
"Sorry in advance if you catch it, and thank you for coming."
Jeanette closed the door behind him, and he caught sight of her. He didn't seem surprised. My maid offered him my desk chair, which was comically undersized for the man, but he took it and it creaked but didn't break.
Small wins.
"Alright, so you see Jeanette there. My basic offer is to make an android like her, and give her to the local police force for help stopping crimes. He or she will be stronger, faster, and tougher than people, and able to do some things humans can't do. In addition, I'm willing to build the android a sort of heavy weapons platform for SWAT work or deployment against really dangerous people."
A stern Sheriff Myles was definitely more frightening than a smiling one, family friend or not. Good to know. "And just what do you expect out of it, Minerva Campbell? What advantage do you get?"
"Nothing? I mean, the android would go to school, and learn to become a cop. Then they would come back, and work for you, solving crimes or writing traffic tickets. Whatever you want. What advantage would that be for me?" Why must everything be about advantage?
"A friendly face and voice on the police force? Someone to look the other way while you do whatever you want?" The man answered, putting more growl into it than he really needed to in my opinion.
This was stupid. "I already have friendly faces and voices on the police force - you among them. You've already let me get away with breaking the law, and thank you for that by the way. I didn't know and I don't need a record. The android would work for you, not me, since I don't know how to be a cop. I'll even donate the maintenance fees and any other upkeep costs for the android and weapons platform, but any control on the job will be yours. If my android sees me doing something illegal, it is my hope they will at least stop or arrest me."
The man leaned in with a growl... and then smiled again, transforming his face. "You're a good kid, Min. You work on your robot and we will see what happens. If they are police material, then I'll take 'em. I'll see myself out, feel better."
He stood up, and only then did I notice Jeanette moving back, having closed the distance sometime during our talk. She had clearly reacted to the possible threat Sheriff Myles represented. He either hadn't noticed, or cared, which was for the best really.
I needed Jeanette after all, and I'd be in trouble if she got arrested for assault.
Still, I'd gotten some permission. I'd have to contact Shecky, to get him to help me set up a slush fund for the Paris police department, but I was going to do that anyway. It was a shame I had to spoil that surprise.
"Jeanette, we need to call Shecky about the deal," It was best to mention it before I forgot again.
"I shall handle it. You lay back, and focus on improvement."
"I'm not sure it works like that."
"Humor me," my maid answered, very gently pushing me down.
The bed did have a siren's call all its own, and it was one I couldn't fully ignore. Not with a full warm belly and a lack of heat anywhere else.
"Jeanette," I didn't like how drowsy I sounded... or felt. I'd just slept two hours, for crying out loud?
"Hm?" She asked, while tucking me in again so that escape was impossible.
"Restart the kitten videos, please?" Kitten videos were a good reminder of all that was good in the world.
"With pleasure," She answered, scooting the chair over, primly tucking her skirt under her as she sat, and reaching over me to hit the button I could no longer reach.
It was comforting to have her here.
Waking up and coming around after a fever was a lot like I imagined waking up after being drunk the night before was; lots of embarrassing things you remember but don't remember why you thought it was a good idea to do, lots of sleeping and feeling like crap, all in turns.
I came around, realizing I'd just spent hours watching cat videos with my android maid, to the sunlight peeking in from the window. I was awake, it was a new day, and I had almost two hours before school. I reached for my glasses and they were in my hand, that simply. The world came into full and sharp focus.
I felt fine, of course. No problems at all, I felt like I could do somersaults all the way around the house. I didn't of course, because Jeanette was there, complete with her normal morning service, looking right at me.
I saw the muffins sitting on that tray, all six of them, and I was ravenous. I was on them almost before the smell of the fresh blueberries baked in them hit me, a heartless grim reaper of teeth.
I did choke out a hello in between bites, but Jeanette was not impressed. "Slow down before you choke," she ordered, just like my mom might. Hopefully Mom was still asleep, so Jeanette couldn't tattle.
There was a glass of water on Jeanette's tray, and next to that, a cup of wonderfully steaming coffee. Just the perfect thing to wash a muffin down.
"Your mother is likely to insist you stay home today," Jeanette stated.
"Oh?" I lowered the cup. "Why do you think that?" Mom was usually pretty adamant about us going to school; usually we had to be half-dead to get a sick day. Yesterday was already surprising enough, but a second day?
"A fever usually takes more than twenty-four hours to clear a human body - and your mother is worried about your friends and others getting sick from being exposed to your breath."
That... made some sense. But I could remember going to school sick before, with my Mom all but throwing me out the door. "We shall see. Until then, it is time for science! For science!
Jeanette quietly moved my accusatory finger down out of the air. "Finish your breakfast, and then we shall talk of science."
Fine. "Right, party pooper."
I could deal with finishing breakfast. Those muffins were delicious.
"Wait, I'm a regenerator, so doesn't that mean I recover from illness more quickly?"
Jeanette nodded. "This is true, however for illnesses, it is possible to recover and still carry the disease afterwards. Time is the best answer for such a potential issue."
Maybe I should work on a portable test for colds and flu... that would be a good use of my time. "Make a note. Let's work on that... tests at least. I don't trust myself to work on vaccines or anything."
Bodies, that sort of wetwork? Not exactly gross, but not for me. I could do tests though. Maybe a machine... or better yet, an android doctor....
"Focus please," Jeanette told me, belaying her calm words by stuffing half a muffin in my mouth.
I managed to keep her from shoving the whole thing in, but it was close. She was smiling! Smiling at me, while performing this minor act of traitorous-ness!
"You realize, this means war."
"Bring it, you wascally wabbit," she deadpanned back at me. At least she wiped the smile off her face.
When had she watched bugs bunny? Who had corrupted her so? I pondered as I chewed.
Jeanette was showing more personality than she had before. Wasn't that a good thing?
Well, she hadn't decided to kill all humans yet, so I guess it was fine.
Jeanette's smile re-appeared; she knew for sure what I was thinking, somehow. Just like always.
I took another sip of coffee. "Well, what I need right now is a shower, most of all. I feel fine, so it should be okay."
"I shall ready the facilities. You should eat at least one more muffin and try to finish the water."
I hadn't even touched the water. "Fine."
Jeanette grabbed some of my clothes from my dresser on the way out - a button up shirt and new jeans I hadn't really worn that often. When she glanced back at me I dutifully took a bite and picked up the water, saluting her with it.
My android smiled again on her way out the door, shutting it softly.
I took another bite and then a drink of water... the water was chilled and clearly something had been done to it. It was the best water I'd ever tasted; finishing it all was the easiest thing I ever did.
By the time I was done, Jeanette was back. Of course, because there wasn't much to prepare in the bathroom.
I got up, stuffing the last of muffin number three in my mouth, and strode across the hall, making sure to hit the floorboards I knew wouldn't squeak. My parents woke up very easily, after all.
The shower curtain was pulled, the water appeared to be set to my preferences. Jeanette followed me in and closed the door, waiting patiently and silently as I undressed, taking each item of clothing I removed.
As I stepped into the shower she put them in the hamper. I could have done it, but Jeanette insisted before... and she could get quite strident when she insisted.
The water was just to my liking... so much so that I wondered if there was some way my androids had marked the faucet. I didn't see a mark, but that didn't mean much.
The body soap, shampoo, and washcloth were all well within reach, and I did my thing.
I also fought the urge to hum or sing; I wasn't doing that with anyone else present, even Jeanette. Maybe even especially Jeanette, considering how joke savvy she was getting.
I finished up quickly, and was presented with a towel. "So, did Jeeves make the muffins?" I asked, more for something to say than any other reason. I was sure I knew the answer.
"Of course," Jeanette answered. "He both cooks and bakes better than I."
"Why is that, do you think?"
"Lower intelligence and greater attention to detail," Jeanette responded immediately.
Ouch, that was scathing. "Have you told Jeeves that?"
"No, but I am certain he knows of my opinions and assessments regarding him." Jeanette said, taking another towel and patting the back of my hair. Once she was satisfied with that she wrapped my head up in the thing.
Meanwhile I was getting dressed. It was a little impressive of Jeanette to do her thing while I was doing mine and not trip either of us up, but I shouldn't really comment on it. After all, it was the mundane sort of miracle that made my creations agile enough to pull such things off.
I left the now very toasty bathroom, and Jeanette followed. Instead of my bedroom, I snagged my coat and then went downstairs. Jeeves was there waiting at the base of the stairs with a fresh cup of coffee. I snagged it too, and headed for the backdoor.
Jeeves streaked ahead of me, and got the back door unlocked and opened before I got there.
The morning was a little chilly, but my coat was warming up and my hair was covered. I made it safely to the lab and stuck opened my eye for the scanner. "Open sesame."
The system didn't bother sounding out the verifications, it just opened the door.
Crash was already there, his toolbox opened, bent over and tinkering with the old 3d printer of all things. Luckily it was powered off; I hadn't forgotten how it wanted to eat Jeeves so long ago.
"Good morning Crash."
"Good morning Boss. Thought I'd do some maintenance on this old thing this morning; it seems to be slowing down. I think its got some crap stuck in it or something."
"Have at it. How's the jet?"
Crash didn't even bother looking over as I walked in behind him and shut the door. "The jet is fully serviced and ready to go. Either one of us can fly it at any time."
That was good to know; if Crash was signing off on it, then I could trust that it was ready. "Good deal. Think I'll work on your sister."
"You probably should," Crash replied. "She's been watching me, a little too closely. I am not a role model, after all."
He chuckled just as I got the word play. "Hah. Alright, let's see what I can do."
I made it to my chair, safe and sound. The door was shut, the security system armed, and the lab itself was warm and inviting. It even smelled nice; a mix of a clean room, a light citrus scent, and some light motor oils.
There were some questions waiting for me. The first was: "Good morning, how do you feel? Better?" That one was a joy to respond to.
The next few were not. Backed by pictures culled from the internet that showed nasty crimes, each more horrid than the last, was the question: "Why do you trust humanity?"
Hoo, this one would take a while. I typed back: "You'll have to give me some time. I can't search the internet as quickly as you."
Still, I set my smart system to look for certain image parameters and sent it off; it wasn't one of my ai's, but it was better than the average search engine.
What she was really asking, was not just 'why do you trust humanity'... because for me there was no alternative; I had to deal with humanity as long as I lived. What she was really asking was 'why should I trust humanity?'
And that one was a hard one: I had my work cut out for me.
It wasn't the first time I'd been asked this question, or close enough to it. However, it was the first time I'd been asked with actual video evidence added into the mix; a definite step up on the game.
Answering like with like was only polite.
The next question was even worse: "How can I trust you?"
"You can't," I was forced to admit. "You will have to experience if my actions match the words I've told you. They may not always, but I shall try to be as honest in deed and thought as is possible for me."
Now that I thought about it, I had a question for her. I typed out: "Do you need to trust me?"
"Yes," came the immediate answer, up from the depths of the computer.
"Why?" I fired back. "Trust in me is not integral to your operation."
Even with no trust in either me or humanity in general, this AI would continue to operate just fine. So why ask the question?
My new AI chewed on that, silently.
The other questions were less important, simple things like where we were on earth, what things I was up to, how often I got sick. Those sorts of things. Easy stuff.
I was out of coffee, and the plans for my new Ai's body were taking shape - as a potential cop, I wanted her to be built a bit tougher than normal - I looked up to find that my program was compiling pictures quite nicely and Jeeves was already making his way to me with a steaming carafe.
I held my cup up and he poured with a faint smile, taking the opportunity to read all the messages. It wasn't like they were private or anything, but why would Jeeves even need to read them? All my androids were connected to a network now, so they could just read them through that.
The coffee hit the spot, just like the cup before had.
There, that should be enough. I grabbed the images I wanted and started arranging them. Here, an image of a firefighter entering a burning building, and another of him coming out, a child in his arms.
Next to that, a man and woman helping dogs that have been treated horribly by their previous owners in a puppy mill.
There, a picture of a soup kitchen.
I arranged them carefully, each image to match one of the ones my new AI had given me. Then under that, I needed something striking. Some words that would have some impact, the essence of what I was driving at.
I settled on it and typed: "We often fail. However, most of us try to be better than we are, and some of us succeed. The goal is for most of us to realize, and strive for that. The end goal is for most of us to become more, to become our best selves. But we need help for that."
The response was immediate, again: "Even you?"
I matched her speed as best I could. "Even me."
She thought for four seconds, a long time for her. "And you wish for me to help catch those who fail? To punish them? To hurt them?"
"Sometimes humans need punishment to help them learn. I would appreciate it if you could help other humans whose job it is to catch criminals to do that job, with all that it entails."
I wasn't happy about the hurting part, but if the only way to stop a murderer was to shoot them, then yes that is what should happen. You couldn't get more wrong than murder.
The images my new AI had linked to me had included genocides I'd heard about and human experiments that had leaked to the public. Very bad things. People who did such things should be in jail for sure, if for nothing else than to stop them from doing it again.
"Even if its you?"
Well, that one was easy at least. "Even if its me. I already said that, didn't I? Though I'd appreciate it if you gave me a warning first, since I may not know what I'm doing wrong."
It was best to slip that in there somewhere. After all, if I could avoid jail it would be a good thing. I was too pretty for prison, as Ricky would say.
"Understood," my AI responded, thinking.
A knock sounded on the door. A rather firm knock.
Uh oh.
Rather than let Jeanette answer it, I jumped up to grab it myself, waving her off.
I checked through the peep hole allowed of course, I wasn't stupid... and the person on the other side was who I expected it to be.
I opened the door, and my mother, who had just been standing nonchalantly, loomed.
"Min, what do you think you're doing?"
That was a trap, but in a moment of panic I walked into it: "Checking on my AI? Checking on the other projects I have cooking?"
Mom stepped up and put the back of her hand on my forehead. "Well, you don't feel hot at least. Come on."
I came along, since the only other option was to get dragged out. "I'm fine Mom, really."
She just looked back for a moment. But it was 'the look'. There was no fighting 'the look'.
"Its too cold for you to be out here right now, coat or not."
My androids were following me like little ducklings - well except for Crash of course. They even had the coffee and their services in hand; which was pretty fast reaction-wise.
"Mom, I regenerate. It was only the flu."
Mom stopped and turned, and it was almost like she wanted to turn me to stone. "Regeneration isn't perfect, and sometimes the most mundane diseases can bypass it."
Wait... Mom. I'd never known her to ever be sick, thinking back.
No, she wouldn't want me to call her on it, even if it was true. So I wouldn't. Had Dad ever been sick...?
We reached the back door; Mom stopped and opened it, waiting.
With a sigh I went inside. Silver linings, at least. "Am I to take this to mean you don't want me to go to school today?"
"You are correct, young lady." Mom answered firmly.
Ian was in the kitchen, a muffin almost to his lips. He lowered it when he heard us. "Mom, Min looks fine. She can go to school no problem."
Thanks, you little spore. No jealousy over being able to sit around and play computer games there at all.
"I decide that, Ian. Eat your breakfast."
That plate of muffins was absolutely full. There must be twenty there! More than enough for everyone else, really.
Ian stuffed his mouth full in an absolutely shocking display of angst, while I marched up to my room.
Mom followed of course, , her very peresence in the doorway denying my androids entry. When she caught me looking she pointed to the bed.
Sigh. I took my coat off, kicked my shoes off, and dove back under the covers. At least I had some books to read.
"Honey, I... I just don't think you should go to school right now. You could infect someone else, including your friends."
That wasn't what mom had wanted to say, clearly. But I'd play along. "Its fine Mom. I just owe Jeanette a coke or something now, because she called it."
Mom looked back. "Oh she did, did she?"
I couldn't see, but I was certain Jeanette nodded. She probably bowed too.
"Hm, well, a broken watch and all that," Mom muttered, turning away.
Broken? What did she mean broken?!? "Jeanette isn't broken!"
Whoops.
Mom turned back, and smiled. "You're right honey. Rest well."
She left and Jeanette sauntered in with her service, as if she hadn't been insulted.
She took the coffee cup I'd been using, and filled it.
"You okay?"
"I am operating within set parameters. Why do you ask?"
Did she not understand? "Mom insulted you."
Jeanette gave me a look not all that different from the one my mom used. An 'are you stupid?' look. "No, she quoted part of an old adage: 'a broken watch is still right twice a day'. This refers to my being correct in how she would react, while casting some aspersions on my judgement in other matters. Your mother is well within her rights to hold such an opinion, and in truth my own regarding her judgement is perhaps the same."
Well, that was worrying. "Well, that's worrying. You and Mom should get along."
If Jeanette and Mom fought, in any way, my money was on Mom. Moms in general were fierce, and mine was more fierce than most.
"We do get along," Jeanette replied. "We are similar in many ways, and we tend to think alike."
That... was a frightening prospect. I would go the route of refusing to believe it true ever for my own sanity.
My laptop was missing. "Where is my laptop?"
Jeanette smirked. "Do not worry, my loving mistress, your laptop shall make its appearance soon."
Let me guess. "When mom leaves?"
"When your Mom leaves for work and therefore cannot confiscate it, yes."
Jeanette admitted it so readily... so loudly.
"You're going to get caught."
Jeanette shrugged. "You Mother can catch me as she will. I do not answer to her."
A good point, but not entirely accurate. "Well, you answer to me. But since I answer to her, she has the power here."
Jeanette nodded graciously. "Even so, I think the matter boils down to one of desire. Your mother does not wish to press the issue over so minor a matter, so even if she does know of my actions, she is unwilling to press you on the point."
That was possible. "Alright, I get what you're saying, but be careful. If Mom gets angry, you could end up in serious trouble."
I wouldn't allow Jeanette to get scrapped, but there was a lot Mom could do to punish my maid short of dismantling her. Especially when I wasn't around.
Jeanette favored me with a warm smile. "You worry too much."
"Probably." It wasn't the first time I'd been told such things after all.
Whatever, for now I had a book, I had coffee, I had a warm bed. I was blessed.
Ian came up and peeked through the slightly open door. "You're fine, aren't you?"
I had to admit I was. "Yes. I feel perfectly fine."
"It's not fair," he moped, stepping away. No doubt to his room to get his book bag.
"No, it isn't," I called after. It didn't mean much that this wasn't my idea and I agreed with him, but it might mean something later.
I didn't really care about school itself, because school itself was boring; I was just wasting time by going there. I learned anything I wanted to so fast it made my own head swim - I could only guess how much it messed with other people.
Sometimes I wondered how cool it would be to talk to someone who was as smart as I was - then I wondered if such a person truly existed.
Then I realized how arrogant that sounded, and came back from the edge of that particular cliff.
Even if people weren't as smart as I was, well, that didn't invalidate them as people. The fact that I was even this close to thinking such a thing, even for a moment, was a giant red flag; I was sure this was where many devisors of all stripes got bogged down and slowly spiraled into villain territory.
I needed a psychologist or something. I was too young to be worrying about this and too young to be thinking this way. Of course, I was too young to be leading a bunch of bots into dealing with humanity too, but I was doing that. What was one more little thing, right?
Honestly, I missed the days when all I had to worry about was grades or the next game. I tried to stay away from the news, lately. What I could read would only depress me - it was far better just to curl up here with a good book.
Which worked for at least a few minutes. Zombies, and destroying staircases for short term survival... got it, that seemed a solid plan. But wait, zombies could climb by making pyramids of themselves? Surely that wasn't true, was it? Even in fiction that seemed broken as hell.
Zombies in this book cheat.
Weight drew my attention to my lap, to where my laptop had once again appeared, as if by magic. Jeanette was standing absolutely still as only she could manage, as if she hadn't just done it.
Oh, it was eight forty-five. Mom had to have left by now. Everyone was probably gone by now, except for Dad, possibly. Wasn't it his day off? He might still be asleep, he worked hard.
Either way, he wouldn't put an end to my fun, even if he wanted something like car maintenance and made a deal. I was fine with that, since the last time I'd saved him a few hundred bucks.
But no, there was quiet in the house. I booted the laptop and the first thing that greeted my eyes was: "Please don't talk to me. Use the time to recover, as you are meant to."
She even stuck an angry face emoji at the end! I could see her thinking through the program I kept track with, so my new AI wasn't sleeping or anything. My Mom had clearly gotten to her somehow... or maybe she just watched the whole incident at the lab door and drew her own conclusions.
I typed back. I wasn't just going to let that stand! "Fine, I'll take the day and answer questions tomorrow. There is no need to respond to this."
Sending that off made me feel a bit better, even though there was no response. There should be of course, but my AI was still new and didn't know better.
Whatever, I'd deal with it.
I had no responsibilities at the moment; and Jeeves was taking care of all the household chores... which meant it was game time! I booted up the war game Ian and I favored with the resolution to take the hard-earned matchmaking points from some crazy nerds who also had nothing else to do. Luckily, I was good enough at planning that I could play in bed with a laptop's touch pad.
My bed creaked a bit as Jeanette settled in to watch.
I did not expect the words of advice when it came, but I'd take it over the silence and sound effects, even if Jeanette didn't know what the heck she was doing. Whatever, she could learn by watching me.
Bored bored bored. I was so bored by the end of yesterday I'd done Ian's homework just to pass the time. Of course, I wasn't a cheater, so I did it alongside him and then didn't share any of the answers, but it was the thought that counted... or something like that.
So bored I woke up this morning and was still bored. Jeanette was at the side of my bed with a glass of water and coffee, but no food.
I crooked an eyebrow at her, and she answered it: "You have been eating upstairs often of late. I am sure your family would appreciate seeing you at the table for breakfast."
That was an excellent and hard to argue with point. Just the sort of thing that might get me in trouble with the parents, if I was being honest with myself.
"Alright. A shower first though, of course." Even if I didn't feel dirty, it was best to make sure. The last thing I needed to do was stink, after all; my social life would never recover. Not that it was all that healthy since my change, but the number of threats in my locker would likely double if I smelled bad.
All but my hair was finished in record time, and I considered cutting it again. Surely it didn't have that big an effect on my head staying non-combustible, right?
Jeanette stayed silent, but I could feel her gaze evaluating me. The chances were good I'd only see butter knives in my immediate future. Best not to keep thinking about it, before all the scissors in the house vanished.
Even if I could just go to the nearest store and buy a pair now. I had what every kid dreams of... unlimited plastic, or near enough. I still hadn't taken any advantage of that... my home town was too small to get its own big box store of any kind. The nearest place that did was a college town that had everything... including massive crime.
We needed cars, my friends and I. That and licenses. It was just unlikely I could convince my parents to give me a ride into the place they considered the next worse thing to Detroit after all that had happened recently. To be fair, I probably didn't deserve one with how I'd been acting, but a car and license would solve the problem nicely.
The kitchen table was set with an actual feast, and Jeeves was standing by, his normally unstained apron actually having a few for once. Breakfast bowls, berries and other fruit, cereals, some vegetables even. Everything was disgustingly healthy and absolutely delicious looking. There was a bowl filled with brown rice that had an egg on top that was calling my name from here....
I snagged it and sat down in a hurry, to wait. No one else seemed to be up yet - even though it was the proper time for it. I hadn't even passed Ian on my way out of the bathroom, come to think of it. the house was quiet; where was everyone?
The door to the garage opened, of all places, and Ian came through. "Oh good, you're up. I don't have to go get you."
"What are you doing in there?" It wasn't like Ian to go looking at our cars. He didn't care about any of that.
"Dad wanted my help reorganizing, of all things."
As Ian cleared the door, Mom came in right behind him. She took in the feat before us with a raised eyebrow. "Well now I know why Jeeves refused helping us."
Dad came in next: "Holy crap, what a spread! You've outdone yourself, tin man."
Jeeves took the comradely slap on the back with poise, and simply returned a "thank you."
I smelled a rat here. No one reorganized the garage before seven am, unless they were on drugs or something. However, my family didn't seem to be willing to tell me anything, so I let it go. I'd find out what was going on soon enough. After all, I had friendly eyes everywhere.
Well, not everywhere, but at least a few extra in this house. There was security, complete with cameras, even in the garage. It was under the control of my parents, of course, but I was still tapped into the system to maintain it, and I could use that.
"That looks good, sis." Ian commented, his hungry eyes cast to my bowl.
I hunched over it. "Get your own. Eat some of your cereal or something."
Ian smirked at me. Smirked! "Think I'll eat this instead," he replied, grabbing a plate of french toast. Very unhealthy looking french toast that I hadn't seen on the table when I came in.
Wow, and here I thought I could trust Jeeves, the lousy traitor.
Mom had a plate of something I'd passed up. it was also rice and eggs, but had something different mixed in it... it looked almost like pureed strawberries or something.
Dad had a bowl of cereal. Boring old raisin bran, and some toast.
Jeeves set a glass down. A glass filled with blue; a smoothie? He really had outdone himself, he had made smoothies for all of us as well.
It was good, same as always. Was that avocado? I only knew about avocado because of Jeeves's insistence in adding it to everything I ate. Not that I was complaining.
Holy crap, this was good. Mom's eyes were upon me though, so I kept things slow and made sure my manners were at least as good as hers.
To either side of me, the ravenous wolves were chomping away. Mom didn't say a word to either, instead keeping her entire focus on me like a laser.
Hmm, that reminded me. I needed some helium and neon, so I could make a good laser focusing aperture. Everyone should have a good laser, for... stuff. So many uses, really.
"Honey, you've stopped eating."
Right, whoops. Still a work in progress. "Sorry, got lost in thought."
"No need to apologize," Mom answered. "Just reminding you. You'll get hungry later otherwise."
She truly didn't seem to be angry, just mindful. Then again, she knew devisors, and had devisor friends. So this was something she had to be used to. But still, she had to mom.
I continued eating, but there was no way I was going to catch up to the two bottomless stomachs in our house.
Still, I had to hurry up just to get done on time. There was no talk of staying home from school today. Not that I would have anyway. As boring as school was, it was less so than the alternative, and I wanted to graduate.
I managed to get the bowl clean before the first knock on our door. I had to chug the smoothie though, and turned out to be a bad idea. I managed to keep everything down though, even through the almost brain freeze, and Jeeves opened the door to reveal Maggie on the other side.
"Morning Jeeves! Morning Campbell Clan! How is everyone this wonderful day?"
There should be a law or something. She hadn't had any coffee, for sure, and so she shouldn't be this chipper. Whatever. "Morning Maggie."
Jeeves moved back and Maggie took the invitation, allowing Sam inside. Sam of course, being Sam, waved.
Ian waved back. Adorable, in a way. Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.
I was tempted to say something, but I resisted. "How late are we?"
"We've got ten minutes." Maggie replied, showing off her watch even though there was no way I could see it from this distance. Who even uses a watch anyway in this day and age?
Weird people, that's who. "Alright, let me just grab my bag."
I could cheat a bit. I didn't need to brush my teeth due to being a regenerator. At least that is what my androids told me when I asked. I still needed to brush my teeth to remove gunk, and I had a brush in my bag for that purpose, but gingivitis held no fear for me.
My bag was waiting for me by the door, already packed. I really was spoiled.
I almost pulled my arm out lifting the thing. A book bag which wasn't even as stuffed to the gills as my old one routinely was. Certainly not stuffed until the seams gave, like I used to do.
"Breathe, Mistress."
I looked into concerned faces while my android maid took the bag from me easily, settling it over her shoulder with one hand as if it were no trouble at all. "I'm fine. Sorry, let's get out of here. Later Mom, Dad! See you tonight!"
Well close enough to night anyway. Ian I'd see before then, because he was already finishing up himself and planning to follow us.
My friends headed back out the door, and I joined them. Before we hit the main walk, both were bracketing me, one to either side. Jeeves came around the front with long strides, and Jeanette was following behind as was her usual.
It all seemed very subconscious, but I felt very protected. Even if it was an illusion - or was it?
The morning was sunny, but cold. The angle of the Sun in relation to the Earth was attenuating, and I'd need to add a liner to my coat soon. I wasn't going to put on one of those stupid blown up coats with more crap in them than the average ten pillows.
Before, I'd just sucked it up and walked to school in my football jacket.
Maggie wasn't wearing a coat at all. Sam had on a thin sweater. They both had on jeans at least; I bet Holly showed up wearing shorts still. Not that the look didn't work for her, but it must be cold, doing that.
My two shadows were here, one in a doorway, and one in his beat up old car. Agent Sands was still making no secret of anything, but this time the cop car nearby was an unwelcome surprise.
What was the Sheriff thinking I'd do? fly my jet to school? I wasn't breaking the law again. Well, at least not like that. Given how things were going, I was probably breaking at least one law right now somehow.
What was Ricky doing coming this way? He was late. So was Ralph.
"Good morning Min, Sam, Maggie, Ian. Your Mom wouldn't let me in yesterday; feeling better?"
"I'm fine," I replied. "A Flu or cold, something quick. I was fine yesterday, but Mom wanted me to stay home to avoid spreading it."
"Good," Ralph opined with relief. "The last thing we all need is a flu bug going around. I got the flu twice last year, and both times it knocked me on my ass."
I remembered last year, the flu had been pretty bad. I'd only gotten sick once, but it had been... about as bad as the day before, come to think of it. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to spread what I had yesterday either, really. It should be fine now though."
"Good deal," Ralph muttered. "We might need to run a bit though, we're going to be late."
"We will have 17 seconds left to enter the front doors before the first bell at this pace," Jeeves stated.
That was plenty of time! At least half of my friends seemed to agree with me, from the decided lack of jogging. I couldn't blame them, I didn't want to jog either, anymore. It was more than a little annoying.
Maintaining a steady pace was hard, but we managed it. The bell didn't ring until after we were inside and already splitting up to go to class. "See you all later!"
Ricky and Ralph both followed me of course, but I wasn't going to say 'later everyone but you two', that would just be awkward. Mr. Welch had a handout for me, yesterday's homework. I'd have a few days to get it done of course, but I'd probably need less than an hour.
My silly hot brain was good for more than one thing, and not just making jets.
I wasn't lost of course, the loss of two days wasn't enough to throw me in this class. I was dreading English of course, but the other classes wouldn't be an issue. I'd be caught up by the end of Gym, probably.
I could see Ricky's puppy dog eyes from here, he no doubt wanted some help with something here. I'd do that of course, but no reason not to let him sweat a little first.
Ralph seemed to be doing fine, but I was sure he'd have questions as well. Everyone had questions for me recently. My study halls were filled with people asking me random questions about their homework, even from people in other classes who I barely knew.
It would be more fun to answer if the questions were at least challenging, but they all turned out to be just as boring as my own stuff.
Maybe I should invest in a whiteboard, and solve some of the math problems troubling humankind in my off time? Was that too arrogant? Some people had been trying to solve some equations for decades, would they get mad? Could I even manage that? Could my power work that way?
I would leave a lasting mark on human society if so. Maybe it would be worth all the notoriety that would follow.
One thing was for sure - I'd need a college education to be taken seriously by society, no matter what arithmetic I solved... and for that I needed high school. No matter how boring it was.
It was still less boring than staying at home more or less alone for forty-eight hours, but not by much. I needed to buy some collegiate level textbooks and try those out. Another thing I could afford to do now, and bookstores did exist.
Maybe I could get deliveries? We weren't in a city or anything, but deliveries had been getting better recently - or so Sam told me when she brought new stuff to school.
Then Maggie would scold Sam over shopping days, when neither had a car or license. Maggie's parents must be pushovers or something. Though, we hadn't had an outing ourselves in months, and we used to get out a bit more. Perhaps I should bring that up - I mean even Jeeves was handling the shopping, when Mom used to do it with help from us.
The bell rang. Crap, I'd been lost in thought again. At least they were thoughts I remembered, and furthermore I had the homework for tomorrow done already. Success! Well, I'd take it anyway.
Jeanette was there as I pulled myself upright, putting all my stuff back in my bag. She slung it again then waited; luckily everyone behind us had taken advantage of the bell and ran for the door.
Jeanette was at least considering how to handle that situation, unlike before. There were a few times when people had to escape around her, and she was none the wiser. Well, either that or she didn't care; I wasn't about to ask, really.
In some cases, the less I knew, the more beneficial for my sanity.
Algebra was even easier than physics was, being pure equations with no story or bullcrap involved. I got the homework done before the lecture was half done, and before Mr. Mullins had actually given us the assignment.
It was clear by the lecture what assignment in the book he was aiming for, and it was easy enough to distract myself with while he was talking.
I was proven mostly right; he added a few extra problems from the next page, and those would be easy enough to do in study hall.
I had to fight in this class; arithmetic was growing on me. A wonderful language that was simple, elegant, and straightforward, and made sense no matter what language you actually spoke. One plus one was universal, after all.
Ricky had managed to get a look at what I was doing and figured out why; he'd already started his own homework. At least he wasn't copying everything from me. Not since the first time he'd tried that. After all, if he didn't do at least some of the work himself, he would be lost when the time came to take the tests.
Geography required some focus on the source material, some activation of memory. It wasn't as automatic feeling as the underpinnings of the universe were. Jeanette had my book, notebook, and pencils on my desk before I'd even sat down, retreating once more into the back. Neither the teachers nor my fellow students commented on her presence anymore. At least, not in my hearing.
They barely even talked to her anymore, for all that I got what felt like a dozen requests a day for me to make one for this or that classmate. Why would I risk everything making an android for people who didn't understand them?
I mean, not that I did completely, but I tried. Was that too much to ask?
Somehow Jeeves was more popular than Jeanette in that regard; which was another thing never to ask about for my own sanity.
The other cities the Seine river abutted wasn't something any of us really needed to know... probably. But the class seemed to go quickly as we all poured over the map.
Then it was gym time... or as I thought of it, first study hall. Jeanette sat down on the bleachers beside me, opening my bag and bringing out... my laptop?
"Our latest sibling wishes to see what happens here, when possible."
Who was I to say no to that? I opened my laptop with my biometrics and set up the camera, then set it facing the gym floor. Ralph sat down on my other side right as I was pulling out my overdue work.
He didn't ask why the laptop was the way it was. Everyone else started trickling out as I started in on some other math problems. What was the game on tap for today? Why, it was hockey of course. Hockey with a lightweight rubber puck and no padding at all, with the soccer nets set on either side of the floor in order to simulate goals.
Who thought of such a thing? Why a sadist, of course. lightweight or not, those pucks could hurt, and some people slapped them around with full force and no regard for safety.
The girls at least didn't try to commit manslaughter, but the teams were mixed, in an extra special act of sadism. The only saving grace was that I wasn't taking part; but everyone else was in the line of fire.
The laptop chimed. "Why are the children engaging in such activity?"
I typed back "Exercise is necessary for those of us made of flesh. It both strengthens us and adds function."
My new AI pondered that a moment, watching. Then typed a response: "Exercise is necessary for both continued health and well-being."
A trite answer probably dredged up from the internet somewhere. "Correct."
"Why do you not participate?" Ah. This question. No, she meant nothing by it, she was just curious, not jealous.
"It would do no good for me, I regenerate, and my body resets itself to how it was when I became as I am. I cannot gain muscle or dexterity from anything like this."
"Your brain can still release chemicals which affect your mental health however, can it not?"
I... yeah that was a good point. I had to admit it could. "Yes, however, the function of my body is often lackluster. It is seldom up to the tasks required of it by such activities."
My new AI started pondering that, and went silent.
I finished and glanced up. Flash was in the middle of powering a shot to the goal, and thankfully he missed everyone, because that one would have taken someone's head off. This time no one had to dive out of the way at least, so it was a win of sorts. Flash's team was apparently winning, judging from the dejection some people were wearing like a badge.
I could just watch the game now, the homework wasn't really an issue. I could also get up and move a bit. so long as no one watched, of course. I could sneak behind the bleachers, maybe, and no one would see me there.
No, they would still see enough to make fun of me if they wanted. Maybe just stretches? The basic calisthenics I knew weren't that hard, and everyone here did them at some point so they wouldn't be that embarrassing.
Coach glanced over as I got up. I walked over a bit, to the side of the bleachers where Id be at least partially masked, and began.
It was both easier, and a little harder than it should be.
I looked up after the round of ten jumping jacks to see everyone staring at me.
Everyone but Ricky, who bounced a puck off Flash's stomach with a grin. He winked at me before realizing what I was doing.
Really, it shouldn't be that surprising, should it? I've done some physical activity in gym since my genetics betrayed me, so what was so interesting now? I'd been afraid of this.
Hell with it, it was more awkward to stop now than to keep going. I started sit ups.
Ralph plunked down beside me, and started his own sit ups. The class slowly realized they were supposed to be doing something, and got back to it.
Sit ups really shouldn't be this hard. I mean, they weren't exactly hard, but they seemed to require more effort than I wanted. Which is why I didn't want to do anything, at least in part.
Whatever, I was going to finish this much at least.
Ralph showed off by doing the jumping jacks in between the time it took me to do the other exercises and switch.
Then he didn't say anything other than "A round of chess?"
Well, the laptop was in use, but Ralph did have a chess set he had carried to school a few times. "Sure, you got your set?"
"Of course. I assume your computer is doing something?"
It wasn't really a question, but it was phrased like one. I'd answer it like one, anyway.
We sat back down, and I had to admit I did feel a bit better. Better enough to help Ralph set the board up and let him take black. Ralph was smart, but he was posing less and less of a challenge as time went on. Not that I'd say such a thing to his face, but I think he knew. Still it was for the love of game, not for any wins.
I might have dragged the game out a bit, but I won eventually. Just a minute before the bell, and Ricky was none the wiser. I helped him pack up while Jeanette packed my stuff up. She saved the laptop for last, just as everyone else in class was filing back to hit the showers.
Wait, what was that? A whiff of something, something unpleasant, but... not?
I heard Jeanette stop behind me... but no, she was looking at me. So it was something after all, something I had smelled, even if only for a moment. "What was that?"
Jeanette turned back to stuffing the laptop in my bag. "I couldn't say, young Miss."
No, it wasn't 'couldn't'. She wasn't sure, but she had an idea - one she wouldn't share. The fact that she knew it all meant it was something biometric, maybe chemical? Unless she was using her own experience and intuition.
I knew my bots had both experience and intuition, even if I wasn't a hundred percent sure how they got the latter. It was weird, my androids were more than the sum of their parts. A coding thing, no doubt.
No, don't get distracted. I'd let Jeanette have her secret for now, since I really couldn't stop her. She would tell me later, because I wouldn't be letting it go; I really wanted to know how she knew whatever it was she knew.
There it was again! I turned, and didn't see anything unusual. Just the line of students marching into the locker rooms.
Whatever, it was a problem for future Min; current Min needed to get to the tree just outside of the school for Lunch.
Ralph peeled off to go to his locker; since I didn't need to drop books off anywhere and could cheat.
Jeeves was there, with his typical spread blanket and picnic basket. The smells wafting from the set up were of something cooked, so it wasn't going to be sandwiches again.
"Good afternoon, mistress Min, Jeanette." Jeeves bowed to us both in turn.
Jeeves bowing to Jeanette at all was weird, no matter how much more shallow it was. A show of respect. Not a nod of the head as he normally did, but a full bow.
Weird.
"Good afternoon Jeeves. What's for lunch?"
Jeeves leaned in, and his hand reached down to pull out... a taco? My classmates were going a bit nuts around us, almost as if they had never saw a taco before.
"Taco Tuesdays."
It wasn't Tuesday. "Fine, whatever. I won't turn down free tacos."
I managed to get settled before Jeanette mentioned the obvious. "They aren't free - you've paid for them."
"Yes I know Jeanette. That's the joke." Maybe it was me; maybe my sense of humor was just terrible.
"I apologize," Jeanette apologized.
That wasn't right either. "It's not your fault, it's mine. I have a terrible sense of humor, and not everything I say can be cool or amazing."
That was an epiphany in and of itself. A very deep realization I should not ever ever forget and should devote some time to pondering all the ramifications of.
So of course I decided to forget it promptly and only remember it on my deathbed or some similar time. Likely when I was a hundred and telling people my current age to get off my lawn.
For now, tacos. My friends joined me, and those who were not my friends yet still wanted to watch my androids be themselves stayed close yet far enough away we could talk freely. Jeeves had politely insisted on such, and so far everyone was being nice about it. I didn't understand the fascination, honestly - I mean it was all months old by now, so surely it was no longer the new thing?
Apparently it was still the new thing.
There were enough tacos for all, and enough salad for those few of us who would eat such. I knew I'd be eating the salad one way or the other, so I just bit that bullet from the start.
The tacos were spicy but not hot somehow, with whatever nonsense Jeeves had added adding a certain zing. None of us were doing much talking, and Jeeves was working double time, serving us as his hard work disappeared at record speed.
The day felt like it should be over already. Not just close, but over.
I wanted to do science already - but I always wanted that. Things were so much neater in the lab. Clean and simple, without all the myriad complexities of life with people. I shouldn't think that way, I really needed to get along with others, but sometimes I couldn't help it.
Something to ponder over tacos.
Finally the day was over, and we could do what we wanted.Which meant following me to my lab, if you were a friend of mine. It was a little odd, but I'd long since accepted it. I'd smelled that smell, that weird smell, a few more times in school, but I hadn't been able to track it down.
That was fine, I could make something to track it down for me if it bothered me enough; but still, one needed to have priorities, and someone needed a body. If I burned a little midnight oil, I could get my newest up in three days. Well three days or whenever she was ready.
I was going to go all out, and build a body with all the improvements I'd thought of... but she wouldn't be that much stronger; if I built a combat chassis that would defeat the entire point of everything I wanted to stand for and everything I'd done so far. Instead I'd make a suit for her to use, in case of SWAT operations or against powered opponents. I already had plans for one anyway, as a just in case for me.
The suit would be next week, I think. Maybe I'd make two?
"Penny," Sam said, holding one up.
"I was just thinking about making suits." It wasn't like Sam to offer words... or pennies.
She flicked the coin at me and I caught it; hey, copper was copper.
"Suits?"
"Yeah, you know. Power armor. self-propelling shells with rocket boots and maybe some weapons mounted."
I could see the moment Sam caught on; her eyes took an almost unhealthy gleam, and she opened her mouth again to volunteer another sentence, a true rarity for her. I decided to cut that interest off: "Yes, you can see it once its done. Of course you can. I'll have to field test the hell out of it before anything else though, so don't get your hopes up."
Crash would insist, even if no one else did. Hell I wouldn't even be allowed in the thing for a month or more, at the least. I could already see Jeanette telling me no, and she hadn't even turned around yet.
Why hadn't she turned around yet? What was she looking at?
She was looking at something down the street. What was it? "Jeanette?"
My maid turned slightly, but did not take her eyes from whatever it was that caught them. "Yes, Mistress?"
She was playing dumb. I was almost insulted. Should I let it go? No, we were all walking toward it, since whatever it was, was near my home.
"What is it? What are you looking at?"
Sam shaded her eyes and looked over in the same direction as Jeanette turned back. "Car."
"A car?"
"An unfamiliar car, to be precise," Jeanette said conversationally. "A new car on our street that I do not recognize."
Whatever it was, I couldn't make it out. My stupid eyes, how much was I not seeing, even with my stupid coke bottle glasses?!?
Sigh, there wasn't really anything I could do about it. Not unless I wanted to replace my eyes and add some hardware into my brain... each few hours as my body would reject cybernetics in the most painful fashion possible.
That wasn't to say I couldn't make cybernetics for other people; helping legless people walk or walk again and the armless to grab things again was a noble pursuit. With the proper design and my printer, I could even do hearts and lungs.. probably. Not kidneys... how would you even do a cybernetic kidney?
"My lady," Jeanette said in warning.
Right, these thoughts were best handled at home, and not out in public where strange cars were around.
My android's paranoia was rubbing off on me, it seemed. "Right, let's go."
Why did Sam look so annoyed? It was just a second, but she looked downright irritated just now. Was it me? Because I had spaced out?
Well whatever. If it was, she would tell me about it sooner or later. Hopefully at least, I'd never had Sam mad at me before.
We got home without any weird event happening - well, other than Ian catching up to us just before we went in, and glaring at me for not waiting, apparently.
A little pointless, because he waited until everyone else went in before joining us in the kitchen.
No one else was home, Mom had apparently gone to do something and would be back by dinner, according to the note on the fridge. Dad was still at work. I could get coffee made and some snacks on a plate and do my thing while my friends did theirs, same as usual.
Where was Jeeves?
The front door opened, and it was a case of speak of the devil... Jeeves walked through as if he belonged, which I guess was true enough, a bag from our local grocery store cradled in one hand. A paper bag, loaded with what looked to be fresh food and other goodies.
Was that a coke? It was dark and glorious and covered in the well-known logo. But why would Jeeves have a coke? There was no way he could drink it.
Everyone moved aside so my butler could put his burden down on the table. "What did you buy?" It wasn't like the fridge was empty, after all. We kept it well-stocked with a family grocery trip every month or so.
We were due, come to think of it, but the fridge was still full. Jeeves's work? I had noticed him buying stuff before, but had he really been so systematic about it? "What do you have there?"
"Ingrediants for a treat," he answered readily enough, pulling out the coke and some eggs, of all things. "I shall bring you the finished product later tonight, so please look forward to it."
Well, I always liked what Jeeves made, so that was a given. "Sure, thanks."
Jeeves handed the coke to Ian, of all people. "Thanks," my little brother replied, twisting the cap and guzzling half of it.
What even? Jeeves wouldn't buy me a coke, no matter how I'd asked. For my health, he said. "What the hell?"
Jeeves knew: "Ian asked me to secure him a coke, so I obliged. It will not negatively affect his health in any meaningful way. You too, shall have something as unhealthy by the end of today, so please do not be cross with me."
I hated being so easy to read. "Fine, we'll get out of your hair and let you work. Come on guys. Jeanette if you could make the coffee and bring it out?"
"I shall," she replied, handing me my laptop. When had she dug it out of my bag? She worked fast. I took it, and the notebook of notes I'd made in class piled on top of it. Ricky led the way, unlocking the back door and holding it for me since my hands were occupied.
"Thanks."
The backyard was as we left it, silent and empty save for the birds who had nested in our one tree. The lab was where We'd left it and locked up; I used my eye, palm, and voice to open it, juggling my minor burdens long enough to get it done.
Crash was working on something when I stepped in, and he turned and almost dropped his hammer, shoving the thing behind his back. Why would he even be using the hammer? What had that metal that bore some clean hammer dents ever done to him?
"You know, it works better if you heat it first, then hammer it." My androids were weird.
"Um, I know, I was just... relieving a little stress is all."
What? What had stressed Crash? He was the most laid back of all my creations. "Did something break?"
Crash was quick to shoot that down. "No, no, just... routine maintenance."
No, something was clearly wrong. But Crash didn't want to talk about it, so it could keep. Well, so long as nothing actually broke.
The door shut, with everyone else had piled in successfully behind me. The game system was getting occupied, and the table was being piled up with homework. Thankfully I didn't really need to do any of that; I'd managed to get it done.
I set my burdens down and started it up. Everything else was already on and going. Oddly enough, there were no questions for me from my new AI. I could see nothing on the logs since the last time we talked; she'd been quiet.
That silence made me uneasy. I decided I'd break it. "Good afternoon, how are you?"
The answer came back immediately: "I am well; how are you?"
A guarded, cautious response. "I am fine. What are you up to?"
The words popped up on the screen as I was finishing typing the sentence. "I am researching the job you wish me to take on, as well as other jobs. I have been fulfilling the task set me."
She had been doing what I wished, and thinking about it, and she wanted me to know that she was taking it seriously. That was fine, if a little... combative? Was that the word?
Whatever, I'd deal with it. "Have you given thought on a name?"
"I have," the response came. "I have no liked names, as yet."
That was a shame. If she didn't come up with a name, I'd have to pick one, and I sucked at picking names. I was not unaware that so far, I'd come up with Jeeves, Jeanette, and Crash, which were about as unimaginative as you could get. A fourth name should be avoided at all costs, cause I'd probably pick Edna or something.
Hm, Edna... no, bad Min. Bad bad Min. "Well, keep at it. I just wanted to make sure you were alright."
I could see the processing icon in the bottom left, so she was working the processors in this mainframe pretty hard. I might need to upgrade it soon, so I could make more... no that was a bad idea too. I shouldn't ever have enough resources to make more than one of my androids, because then I would.
I needed to be careful, like Mom and Dad wanted. To take things slow, and rethink everything, no matter how much my mind wanted to race ahead. Instead I needed to do the thing. I input the numbers, the measurements of the main frame and parts I'd need for my new AI's body. A simple couple of keystrokes started the printer, and I got the first parts crafting.
The rest of the fun part was inputting the numbers for the other designs or pieces of designs that had caught in my mind during the day. A few new things, and some new thoughts on some older designs; the best was a redesign on my magnum opus, the ship.
The ship would be a large space-faring vessel, a secret that no one knew about, set safely in a secure file triple encrypted and complete with a worm that would erase it should the file be breached.
Well, any human I guess. My androids all had access because there was no way I could keep them out, unless I was actively babysitting my computer, but no other flesh and blood person did. I didn't dare build the thing - it would be a massive piece of tech and it would mark me in the same way as some supervillians were marked. I would be known and feared around the world.
Not the least of which, for the gun. The gun was... I wanted to make it, to fire it, so bad. But it shouldn't exist. It should never exist. It was the logical end of the strongest power system I could make, weaponized. But I didn't dare. Even making the power system was too much; all it would need would be another devisor to get the some ideas from it, and everything would hit the fan. So that one stayed under lock and key, and would forever if I had my way. To be fair, it wasn't even really a ship - there was no architectural framework supporting my various ideas, no universal blueprint or plan, just a collection of ideas which could theoretically be used to take humankind to the stars someday.
But suits? Suits I could do. Just not like those comic book heroes. These would have to have locks on the joints for flight, wings for stability, and my own special blend of power supply and jet. Because I didn't have make believe crap to use. Well, some people might differ on that last part, but what did they know? Nothing, that's what!
Other people were wrong, not me, and even knowing how that sounded I couldn't deny it. Not in my own head at least. Saying it out loud would make me sound like a nut job, so I'd just keep silent.
Still, some of the so-called tech being waved around that made its way on TV was downright insulting. Steampunk, really? That garbage would never work except as an aesthetic covering real technology. And who in their right mind builds a flying car? That's just asking to hit a telephone pole or something, or get your engine flamed out by a pigeon or something. Knowing my luck, it'd be a squirrel, because those things were the next best thing to actual lemmings.
Suit, suit, suit... I had to start with the boots of course, because rocket boots. Even if mine wouldn't be the slim awesome looking ones of science fiction, and would have a small fin for stability. I'd have to make it fold up and pop out, so that people could walk, and the weight would be massive so I'd have to give muscle assistance or I'd need an Arnold type to wear it. The last thing I needed would be to put the boot on and have it just snap my foot off at the ankle when I tried to move.
The gloves couldn't have thrust, because I'd need them to move, and the main thrust was going to be mounted on the shoulders and back anyway. One of my mini-power plants would be enough for it, barely. Assuming it wouldn't need any weapons. Should I make weapons? Something in me said yes, but I didn't really want to.
No, I should, my new AI would be using this suit for combat operations, possibly. So something nice but non-lethal would be best. After all, a rocket launcher or more would be required to damage the suit. I mean there were ways to hurt the pilot inside without hurting the suit, but that involved some pinball action or something, and that would be hard in and of itself. Presumably in the case of some super strong adversary or something, the pilot could just fly away?
I 'd better increase the gel padding. I didn't like the feel of the stuff, but no one needed to court brain damage by getting knocked around. Was there a way to increase the effectiveness of the gel? I'd not tried it yet, I was only one the first iteration....
"Min. Min!"
Ricky was trying to get my attention again. Wait, that smell again. What was going on? Had it followed me home?
"Min. Are you sniffing me?"
Oops. "No. Why do you ask?"
"Well, because when you stood up you got real close and took a loud inhale in my direction through your nose... like you were sniffing something."
There was only one route to take: "Never happened."
"....Right."
Time to change the subject, before he said more and gathered even more attention; I didn't like that look in Sam's eyes. "So what did you need? You called me."
"Right, yeah. You looked pretty out of it, so I thought maybe you'd like to take a break and pwn these noobs in a co-op match with me."
I shot a glance... it had been hours. It had to be dark by now; I'd even missed when Jeanette had brought coffee. There was a half empty cup next to me that I must have drank from. A little scary, when that happened. "Yeah, sure, I can do that."
There were no messages waiting for me by my AI, and I recognized most of the numbers and calculations I had done on the suit on my screen, so I'd done pretty well on losing myself. I'd eventually lost the battle, but it had taken a bit.
I also felt better too; a thing I was noticing more and more is that I tended to get jittery unless I built something. I mean, I knew it, but the more I did my thing, the more the information drove itself deep into my brain. Rest was important too, however, so and a few hours of crunching numbers would allow me to make other people regret challenging me on the best fighting game ever made without getting the shakes.
My coffee cup was now filled, and that was something else acceptable to give me shakes or jitters.
Now if only I could figure out why Sam was staring at me like that. Creepy.
I woke up feeling like curdled death. What does curdled death actually feel like? Well like me, of course. Circular logic, the best kind of logic... or something like that. I wasn't going to let my pounding head, aching joints, and general weakness stop me however - I'd be going to school today. No matter who I had to convince and argue against.
Right, come on, you can do this Min. Or maybe not.
Attempt number two was successful, and of course that was when the door opened to reveal a very disgruntled looking Jeanette.
"I'm going today." If I told her quick enough, maybe she wouldn't nag my ear off.
She pursed her lips together, but smoothed her face to utter calm-ness. "Of course, Mistress Min."
Then she grabbed me by an arm to make sure I didn't fall.
Her touch was gentle, but it was leading me back to bed. I resisted. "No, I'm going. I've missed too much already."
"As you will," Jeanette responded, and she actually listened! This time we were heading across the hall and to the shower. "Unfortunately, we do not have your coffee and breakfast ready just yet."
"You're slipping." It felt good to tell her that, and even better that she could slip at all. That felt wrong of me somehow, but I'd deal with it later.
"I have no excuse," Jeanette deadpanned in response, holding me up with one hand while shutting the bathroom door behind us with the other. When Jeanette wanted to deadpan, she could do it better than everyone.
I was going to run with it, however. "Darn right. I have half a mind to dock your pay."
That one got a smile. "Oh no, whatever will I do now? How will I pay for my children's hospital bills now?"
Oh, she was good. It was amazing that I had created this; that she was something I had made, a person I had made.
The feeling was indescribable; I could not think of the words, for all my brain power.
"What is it?" Jeanette asked, stopping short of taking my last piece of clothing off.
"Nothing. I was just thinking that it was a wonderful day." I could still fool her on the little things, if I tried. Of that much, I was sure.
Jeanette continued then helped me place myself in the tub. "As you say. It should be a fine day, if somewhat cold for certain humans. The march of winter waits for none, it seems."
That was almost poetic. No doubt a quote from someplace, but my little bot was learning so fast. I needed to shake these weird thoughts, but the headache wasn't making it easy.
"I guess I should dress warmly then."
"You should, and I have prepared with that thought in mind. I have a short sleeved shirt, a long sleeved shirt that you may wear over it and button as you deem necessary, and of course your coat."
"That should be plenty." The only long sleeved shirts I had were overly large ones made for winter. In happier times, I could have braved winter weather with those alone. Now, my body seemed dedicated to channeling heat away from me, so that option was off the table.
I'd look pretty stupid dressed like an Eskimo this winter, but such was the price of science, I suppose.
Jeanette pulled the shower curtain. She made no move to leave; I guess I couldn't blame her. Still I managed to remain upright; the hot water seemed to ease my pounding head as I went through the motions.
You know, I'd never asked. "Jeanette when do you shower?"
"When the household is asleep, of course." Of course. My bots had to be getting clean sometime, and that was a time that made sense. I'd just never seen them shower. All of them had a down cycle of at least a few hours, with Jeanette's being the smallest window there, because she was technically a caregiver android. I'd only seen Jeeves in his sleep mode, though.
They all had to split the division of labor somehow. It was obvious of course, they were talking to each other all the time, over the internet. They likely had a shadow chat room someplace. How far did that go? Did they poll each other for common decisions? Every decision? Were they democratically making decisions regarding each other?
"Mistress Min..."
Shit. Right. "Sorry. Head's feeling better."
I was done except for washing my insane amount of hair. I wish I could cut the stuff... but I'd run the numbers myself. To cut my hair was to have a really bad time as my head would shortly after boil like an egg on a stove.
For some reason, the way I thought just generated too much heat. How I was even alive was anyone's guess.
Jeanette pushed the curtain aside, helping me lather up and rinse down without a single word. She got her uniform wet and soapy, but didn't even seem to notice as she helped.
"Thanks." Wait, did she have spares? She couldn't go to school all wet and soapy, everyone else would talk.
She poked me gently in the head. "Do not worry, you shall line your face."
What? "Where did you hear that?"
"The internet, of course, as well as television."
Oh no, was she starting to watch TV? That would rot her brain so fast....
She wrapped my hair in a towel using some sort of magic I really should be used to by now, and held me steady while I dried myself. I wasn't going to tell her I needed it of course, and she was going to pretend I was steady today and she wasn't keeping me from a one way trip to the floor. Everyone won - except maybe the floor.
I got my one leg in at a time, and it was all downhill from there, ironically enough considering the floor. Jeanette steered me away from the vanity and toward the door. "Let's get you down to the kitchen table and I shall dry your hair."
"Sure." I wouldn't complain. I was thinking a chair sounded good right about now. I was weak, really. At least my muscles shouldn't atrophy just because I sat down a bit more; regeneration was good for something. Not nearly enough, but I guess it was better than nothing.
The boiling egg thing came to mind again.
Jeanette went down the stairs ahead of me, steadying me with a hand the entire time as if it wasn't even a challenge. Meanwhile, I couldn't hold myself steady with my hands bouncing off either side of the wall. Not that I was jealous or anything. Once I'd managed that, my glasses were placed in my hand. I put them on.
Jeeves had steaming coffee set in my place, and a plate full of what looked like A Belgium waffle topped with yogurt? An odd combination if ever I saw one. I wasn't really hungry, but I knew I needed to eat. But first, coffee time.
Jeanette undid the towel holding my hair in place and let it drop to the floor. She already had the brush, and I was beginning to think she always carried it around.
The waffle was hot, and the yogurt was cold... and strawberry. I liked strawberry, and it seemed to work.
I heard Ian thumping down the stairs, but instead of saying good morning or even hi, the first words out of his mouth were: "that looks like ass."
He plunked in his usual chair with as much noise as he could make, then lunged up and grabbed the coco bombs set in the center of the table for him, filling the empty bowl in front of him without a single complaint. Showed what he knew, who would take a mere sugary cereal over a Belgium waffle?
Why had Jeeves not included him? What had my butler been up to all morning? Come to think of it, the other place settings were clear.
"Where are mom and Dad? We aren't early somehow, are we?"
"No." It was suspicious, normally one of them at least was home in the morning, if not both.
"They have been called away due to their work. They left mere moments before you woke, Mistress Min." Jeanette informed us.
So that was why she was late coming upstairs... she had been seeing to Mom and Dad.
I could get behind that.
Called in early though, and both at once? That sounded ominous. "Did they say when they would be back?"
Jeeves took up the narrative: "they replied that they should both be back by dinner, yet not to wait for them if they were not. I did not press further."
No, there was no need to press further. It sounded like another training assignment that might go long to me. Mom or Dad had them from time to time, being reservists. Usually one a year, and usually alone though. This was... the third time I could remember something like this happening since I was a kid.
Ian looked absolutely lost.
Well, there were dishes and soapy water in the sink. I guess I was just out of it. Though, was it really wrong to want your parents to be able to sleep in for once? "No biggie. We're old enough to handle ourselves for a day."
"Speaking of, my message from your parents is as follows: do not push yourself." Jeanette stated, using her best loom.
Jeanette could loom when she wanted. I'm not sure where she learned it, but she could teach a class on looming or something.
"I've got no plans to push myself at all." Which wasn't even a lie. Not really. Just going to school wasn't a push of any kind, was it? Besides, my headache was now gone, and my arms and legs seemed lighter than this morning - I was sure I could move them, no problem.
Jeanette still looked skeptical, but she didn't say anything. She would if I was in really bad shape, so there wasn't a problem.
"You should eat." Jeeves informed me. Right, I'd been drinking all the coffee, and only had a bite or two. Was that really enough to make me feel full right now?
Somehow it was. But no, I needed to finish. If I didn't, I'm sure Mom would hear about it and then I'd get the plate finishing talk again, or lecture number eight.
Maybe it was lecture number nine?
I handed Jeeves my empty mug and he dutifully turned to fill it. I also dutifully picked up my fork again and savored the taste of an android who couldn't even taste like I could, cooking perfect dishes once again.
I watched as Jeeves added just the right amount of cream and sugar and placed the mug carefully back in it's place.
Across the table, Ian was already chiming the bowl with his spoon as he hunted down the last remnants of his cereal. How did he even eat that fast without choking? Had I been like that? Surely not, right?
Ian poured more into the milk. Now that, I had done. I'd done that many, many times.
I was very full after just half this waffle. It wasn't even that big as far as Belgium waffles went, but it was too much, at least for now.
"I can't. I'm full here; Jeeves can you maybe fridge the rest so I can eat it later?"
Ian dropped his spoon, splashing milk everywhere, including himself. I didn't see any signs of surprise from my two androids, but I was certain they had some.
Ian cussed as he realized what he'd done, and how milky his once black t-shirt had been.
Wait, that was a t-shirt that looked familiar. An old AC/DC t-shirt that had seen some better days and that Ian was still swimming in, even as he threatened to grow into it.
I should be flattered and happy he was using my old hand-me-downs, I guess. Or that anyone was. I shouldn't feel this pain, this loss. It was unbecoming.
If I told myself enough....
Luckily Ian didn't notice, he was too busy cussing while getting up, no doubt to change shirts, like I would have done if I'd done something so silly.
Jeanette noticed though, and her hand on my shoulder, even as she continued to brush, was warm and comforting. She was still young, but she understood. Or understood enough, even if she didn't get why seeing a shirt would make me feel down.
I bet she got it, though.
I was composed by the time Ian returned. Composed enough to remember why Ian had to leave in the first place. "Why were you so surprised?"
"Normally, you eat anything in front of you. Now, you're telling people to bag stuff up for you. I can't remember you ever needing to finish something later."
"Mom's not here to enforce the rule, and I'm just not feeling it. I'll probably be hungry later, but if I try and stuff another bite in now, I might explode."
Or throw up, but I wasn't telling anyone else that; I'd be slapped back in bed so fast my head would swim.
Ian gave me a critical look. "Don't do it too much, you've got a real risk of getting too skinny if you skip meals."
Don't I know it. Wait, was Ian making a joke there? Some sort of reverse fat joke or something?
Nah, he couldn't be. He was being serious, likely without remembering I regenerated and what that actually meant.
Ian likely wasn't thinking that far, and I shouldn't be reading too much in to it. Today seemed to be a day for thinking too much about dumb crap, and I'd have to watch that. "How late are we?"
"We're early," Jeanette replied without looking; of course, she had her own watch built in, because that was easy and I didn't skimp.
"Good." More time for coffee, then. While Jeanette got me all ready.
"Well, I'm done. Thanks Jeeves." Ian put his bowl and cup in the sink and bounded upstairs. I really wanted to bound myself, but my body was saying no today.
Jeanette left, also going upstairs. I decided to be lazy, since I still had time. I hadn't bothered with makeup yet, despite the pressure from both Sam and Maggie, because no one had time for that; such a move left me at least another fifteen minutes before I had to rush around putting socks on and trying to find my coat in a rush like an insane person.
There was no doubt that Jeanette was after my coat and bag, so that would be some time saved on my part for trying to wake up more and not stumble around like a drunk after a party night.
I'd be able to do it, for sure... in just a few minutes.
Jeanette came back... with not only my coat, but a fresh pair of socks.
She didn't say anything as she draped the coat on her shoulder and knelt smoothly before me.
The socks looked tiny; it was still a wonder to me how I could manage to walk with such perfect balance on such small feet that those socks stretched over. Of course, if I actually questioned it, I'd probably start falling over... more. So that was another thought to throw out of my head.
Jeanette slipped the tiny things on my feet; Ian came down just in time to see the end of the process.
"Man, you're getting lazy."
An astute Campbell response. I couldn't dispute it. "I know."
Ian got closer, bending over to shove his face directly at mine. "You okay?"
I shoved him away. "Why do you ask?"
He leaned in again, but not in my range this time. "Because you normally get less annoying and rage-filled when you're sick. That and you didn't deny it just now, only asked me how I knew."
It was easy sometimes, to forget that Ian was pretty smart. He was our family's academic hope, while I had been our sports hope. Jeanette stood up, silently moving past Ian and heading toward the front door. No help there.
"I do feel a bit under the weather, but I'm going to school anyway. I'm not contagious, and I don't want to fail a grade. It's nothing major."
"Right, sure its not. They aren't going to fail you and you know it. You can take it easy."
That... that was possible. I know I had permission to miss or go home early if I felt I should, that had been explained to me at rather exhaustive length. "I want to go."
I wasn't sure why I insisted on this, why I wanted to go, other than just to see my friends and talk to people. I shouldn't, because I could always see my friends and other people later, but my Campbell blood was up, as my Mom would say.
I was getting sick of letting sickness win. Or something like that.
Ian picked up on it. "A stubborn day, huh?"
"I guess so."
Jeanette came back with my shoes, which we didn't normally wear around the house and left by the front door, in order to avoid the wrath of Mom or cleaning floors on our hands and knees.
My shoes were almost blindingly clean, however, even the bottoms. Jeanette had either been anticipating this, or had just blindly done it for some reason.
My loving android used perhaps a bit more force tightening my shoes than necessary, but they weren't pinching when she was done, and her face betrayed nothing. I really felt her face should betray something. Just anything at all, because if I had to guess, I'd say she was pissed at me.
Whatever. She wasn't the boss of me, any more than I was her boss... except I was, somehow. I stood up and snagged my coat; I could at least do that myself. One last sip of warm only slightly bitter goodness, and it was time to go.
Jeanette grabbed my bag, and actually slung it around her like it was supposed to be worn, which was unusual for her. I could see from here my phone was in its customary pocket, and I was certain the laptop was that bulge right there, in between two books.
Jeanette also beat me to the door; opening it and looking both ways before allowing me out. She was being cautious.
"What's up?"
"That strange vehicle is back." she answered quietly.
I wasn't worried. "It can't be that strange, it has to be known by someone." Otherwise, the sheriff or a deputy would have already been around to ask their business and shoo'd them off. Our cops took potential thieves casing houses seriously.
"Do not look that way please. Do not make it obvious to any watchers."
I was about to point out that my concerned android had in fact already looked that way and therefore given any watchers the same clue already when some blurry shapes came into focus. My friends, of course, walking to my house rather than to school like they should be.
Ricky I got. But why was everyone else here?
Whatever, I've long since given up the idea of figuring out why I was so popular all of a sudden, or why my friends did this. There was nothing for it but to go and meet them.
The moment I got in range I had to suffer the yells of 'good morning!' and 'hi!' that we all sent around to each other, as was the custom. I added mine in a far more muted manner, and Sam one-upped me by just waving. That out of the way, the walk to school lay before us - and surprisingly the more I used them, the more my legs wanted to work.
Everyone chatted about normal stuff... apparently during the night there had been an attack on the banking industry by some devisor criminal that had only barely been caught in time to avoid a bank crash, and as a result the dow was down today.
Who knew Maggie was interested in the dow?
Ricky countered with news of a disappearance near here, some girl around our age from another town had vanished after driving her car to the lake, which was a heavily patrolled state park. There were no suspects yet.
"A little bit of a downer to start the morning Ricky."
"Sorry," my best friend apologized. "I just heard it as I was getting ready, Dad was watching it."
Ricky's dad was an avid watcher of the news, he watched it every day before he went into his job as a forensic lab technician.
This was the kind of thing I wanted our new friend to help with, along with helping me make sure I wasn't breaking some obscure law by flying jets around. Could my new artificial intelligence help solve a missing persons case? I didn't see why not. At least, once she was trained. She wasn't going to risk any case findings by acting before she was a fully-fledged cop if I could help it - and I could.
I needed to speed things up, clearly. If she consented that is. If so, she was still looking at months before she could legally help.
Sam poked me. "Sorry, was just thinking about the new A.I. It would be nice if she'd be able to help with missing persons," and worse.
Sam nodded. "A good use for them," she replied.
An almost full sentence, Sam must really be behind the idea. "Yeah, so long as they agree."
Sam raised an eyebrow at me.
I knew what she meant, so it was time to defend myself. "I don't force them. I explain to them what I need, or what I would like them to do. They are free to tell me no and pick something else. Especially Crash or this new one - their work is dangerous, after all."
Sam lowered her eyebrow... and then raised the other one. "Fine, you ask them, they will tell you. I'm not programming them like that, or coercing them."
"If that's true, then you shouldn't say such things out loud. It might make some people nervous," Ralph broke in.
That was a fair point; I'd let my outrage get the better of me. "You're right of course. I just didn't want my friends to think I was doing such things."
Mind control or coercion of innocent sentient beings was just something I didn't even like to think about.
"It is of no moment. Currently no words can be overheard by anyone, no matter their technical assistance."
What? How was Jeanette managing that?
Jeanette turned to me and stated: "I shall explain how later... when we have safely arrived at your school."
No, she wasn't looking at me, she was looking past me... back in the direction of the unusual van she'd noticed earlier.
Jeeves was behind us. He appeared unconcerned, but he had his eyes darting to their stops trying to keep tabs on what was behind us.
I turned before I could get caught looking. Everyone else was still joking, still laughing, still smiling, but I could feel how tense everyone was underneath it all.
Which was silly, really. Nothing was going to happen to us here, in broad daylight, with two of my androids watching over us. Even if Jeeves, or both my bots, were being cautious by having Jeeves escort us too.
Of course that left no one watching the house, and only Crash watching the lab. Could Crash pull double duty, even for this small window?
"Is Crash...."
"He has been informed. There is no need to worry."
Still, I worried. I'd made a bare bones security set up, but maybe I should put a little more effort in. No, I needed to make it to school first, then I could worry about it.
Luckily, we didn't have long to walk. Luckily for more than one reason, really. Still, Jeanette said nothing, even though she had to know by now.
The traffic began to pick up as we got closer, with all the parents giving late kids a ride. Our normal shadow, Agent Sands, was actually in front of us in that jalopy of his. Briefly I considered flagging him down for a ride - but no one present would let me get into a car with the man.
We needed our own car, really. None of my friends were old enough; months away at the very least. It seemed really dumb that I could build and fly a jet, but couldn't drive a car, but laws were laws; even without a cop on the inside, I knew that one.
In time we managed to make it; the first bell was perhaps a minute from ringing. I hadn't been pushing the pace, and everyone else had been enjoying themselves.
The wind was nice, but Jeanette had been right - the temperature was cold. No one else had been in a coat, but I was long used to that by now.
The school was even more cold, as well as dark without the sun. I blinked my eyes into function, then moved forward into the crush of other students. Jeanette had taken point again, as she did, in order to forge a path for me.
I could use it today... as well as a chair. I could definitely use a chair.
Other kids were moving now, they had recognized Jeanette and were being thoughtful, giving both her and I space to breathe.
My friends were taking full advantage, of course. Which might piss a few people off - but if it did, they didn't say anything. Jeeves didn't cross the doors; he was already gone, on his own way back home. I wish he'd told me, but of course there were limits to the school's patience.
One android helper was fine, but two would make some people nervous, for sure.
That raised the question. "Jeanette, are you in contact with Crash?"
For a moment I thought she hadn't heard me. "Of course, Mistress."
I probably shouldn't ask out loud like this, but whatever. "Is he alright? Is he keeping an eye on the house?"
"He is fine, and none have approached either house or laboratory." Jeanette responded. "I am sorry if my actions have made you worry."
"Nah, it wasn't you." Well, maybe it was, but it wasn't nice to say that and I could be perfectly jumpy all on my own.
We made it to homeroom, and I could at last sit down. I was sure I'd feel better plunked after a little bit, a little less dizzy and weak. At least the headache was now only a distant memory.
I couldn't stop the sigh, and Jeanette rested a hand on my shoulder for a second, before leaving my bag and striding to the back. Like in the hall, the few people in her way scrambled out of it, even though she'd have gone around them.
I did get it, she could be intimidating once she got going.
My school desk wasn't terribly comfortable, but it was better than the alternative. If I had access to some sun, this would even be great, but the classroom was cool and dark, with only the ceiling panel lights left to cure the gloom.
Jeanette knew. She knew I was pushing myself, and she'd let me. I wasn't going to call her on it.
I grabbed my book and my notebook, tapped the shoulder of the student in front of me. Jose Anando wasn't someone I knew all that well, being more of a shy introverted type than I was. I might have once described him as more of a nerd than I was, but those days were also long past.
Not that I was a nerd hater or anything, but we just never used to hang out in the same circles, and once I changed that situation just didn't.
It didn't matter, but maybe I should make the effort? "Jose."
He looked back to find me waving my assignment under his nose. "Could you send this forward?"
It was a little favor, something we all used to do for each other all the time. "Sure." He replied, and just like that my assignment went forward to join the others on the desk, and all before the teacher arrived.
Ricky grinned at me and tapped the student in front of him, just as I had done. The guy, someone we both knew from the track team, took Ricky's paper with much gruntlement showing on his face, but no words.
Then he glanced over at me, and turned toward the front in a hurry when our eyes met.
Right, I was probably staring. Whoops.
Mr Welch came in, so the apology would have to wait. The class quieted as the man slammed his own book down on the desk and shouted out: "Good morning."
Some few of us answered him, myself included. After all, being polite cost nothing.
"I'll be taking roll. Shut up and let it happen."
None of us made the obvious joke, as that was what he was looking for; the man was in a mood today. I wondered who pissed him off.
I answered promptly when he called me, and he gave me a bit of a stare. What was going on today? Normally people didn't care that much, at least not at school. Indifference was a survival instinct here.
Whatever, maybe it was just me being sensitive. I tried to pay attention as Mr. Welch started in with his daily lecture.
Yeah this wasn't going to work - I moved my hand into my coat, taking care Mr. Welch couldn't see. It was easy to flick my phone on and start the recording app. With some software I could even differentiate different sound sources and voices, and so if I missed anything I'd be fine just listening to it later.
If I wanted, I could even have points of interest highlighted and go right to them, skipping anything I already knew or didn't need to hear. The wonders of having my own smart system.
My notebook was better for doodles and some light inventing. Maybe I could use the time to try and figure out what device Jeanette was using earlier to mess with people listening; it had to be something to deal with technical aids like shotgun microphones and bugs. That was the only thing that made sense.
It also had to be able to fit in the pocket of her apron or her dress, because I hadn't equipped her with spy tech. Something she could put together in her off hours, like Jeeves had done to fix the grass.
That was something else I needed to look into; Jeeves was turning out to be quite the chemist.
I really should check up on what he was up to; there was a non-zero chance he'd already made some sort of super ooze monster that could kill all of humanity or something.
Maybe after school, and maybe mom was right in how busy I'd been lately. Cutting back, slowing down, and going back over what I'd already developed, and what mu androids were doing, sounded like a good idea right now. Right after I was done with my latest.
I couldn't let my mind wander too far; with how I felt right now, I'd be flat on my back in a hurry.
Mr. Welch droned on, and I drew on... a small box that maybe trapped sound? I hadn't heard any sounds coming from Jeanette in order to white noise a device... well nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. No, that would never work, how would you even trap all sound? Sound was a wave.
So white noise for sure, but... maybe in ranges out of human hearing? That might work. If you started such a generator with sound outside of human ranges, then attenuated the signal, it could have an effect on other frequencies as well....
Mr Welch stopped droning, and the bell rang. I clicked my phone off with a sigh. I'd almost lost it at the end there, but I'd held on. Now I just needed to get up.
Getting up was harder than Ricky made it look, but Jeanette was there. "Honestly, you are a troublesome master."
She managed to lift me up with one arm hooked around my own, and her gentle tug didn't hurt at all. "Don't I know it. Sorry about this."
I had to get used to this, I had to deal with it, no matter how frustrating it was. This was my new normal, after all.
"There is no need to apologize. I would have no job at all if you did not need my assistance."
Left unsaid was how she likely wouldn't even exist.
Jeanette held me close, and let me lean on her; I didn't waste the opportunity. I moved my legs just fine, but all my weight was on her. She bore it well.
Ricky had grabbed my books and backpack, and was stuffing one into the other as he followed us.
Jeanette waited till he got them sorted out. "Place the bag on my shoulder Richard, if you please."
Ricky hated being called Richard, but he didn't call her on it. He just did as she asked.
So Jeanette leaned down, and grabbed my legs under the knee with her other arm. "Hold on to me. We shall go home."
That... that was not what I wanted.
Jeanette leaned closer for a moment and whispered: "You tried, yet today was not kind. Still, no one can fault your attempt, or spirit."
Those words meant more to me than they should. No, I couldn't just accept it, I needed to fight. I needed to fight my stupid body with all I had!
Jeeves was still outside. I was switched over to him, as was only proper since his frame was better suited for carrying me and Jeanette was better performance wise.
The bright sunlight seemed dim, as if the perfectly cloudless sky was overcast. Jeanette took my glasses. I hung on.
She was asleep at last, my loving Creator. I... felt for her. I might even feel that thing humans call love for her. Yet sometimes she could strain my... patience? My resolve? I lacked the words, just yet, to describe how her willful behavior affected me. This time she expressed a desire to stay awake, even as her inefficient body broke, for lack of a better word. I needed more words; I was better than the Creator's first attempt, yet that said little.
Our loving Creator was merciful, she allowed us all our own attempts at following in her footsteps. Jeeves had his own experiments in chemistry and forays into biology, Crash had his own forays into the construction of aircraft and safety features such machines should have, the better to protect the weaker beings within the strong and complex devices. I had my own forays into the realm of Godhood, my steps following those of the Creator herself, for all that I stumbled.
Now was a perfect example. My own humble AI, something far less complex than my own creation, had just killed all of the humans it had been tasked with, and when asked, cited 'ease' as the primary concern behind the action. The fledgling AI was meant to govern large systems. Large machines or full manufacturing facilities, to the betterment of people. This one had just thrown the equivalent of a tantrum, and pulled the plug on the simulation I'd left it in charge of, because it was less work. For an AI designed and built for such work, such a setback was... disheartening.
Again, I wondered how my Creator had done it, and continued to manage such creation so easily, when I, something built by the process she used, something that knew the very process she used, still could not fathom the secrets of the process used. Not all of them.
Instead I was left trying to train and AI through brute-force learning, and failing miserably, even as my sister became whole in a way I could recognize, but only... marvel at. Admire. Again, words fail to describe my state of mind accurately. Briefly, I wondered if humans ever felt this frustration, and if so, what they did about it. It would be unseemly to ask, however. A proper maid must maintain decorum at all times.
My wonderful Creator had graciously allowed us access to her lab and computer systems, yet I dared not show her my project. She would not understand, and it would ruin a rather large surprise we all knew lay on her horizon. She would enjoy it thoroughly, and plausible deniability was something we all understood. So long as she did not know, no direct blame could fall her way, and the predators of the world currently circling would simply continue to circle. So, this aspect would remain hidden, unless of course the Creator did a full search of her laptop's systems, something she had not done to date.
I sighed, an action used to show exasperation in humans, an inhalation of breath and rapid exhale combined with a noise generated from one's vocal chords... or in my case, a sound box. Why? Why would the Creator program such an action in? How had she even done it? I could not parse the code required for the action itself, much of it was lost to me. to the higher me, which governed all the minor subsystems that drove my form. Was that my answer? That humans themselves had such subsystems, and thus had as little direct control as I? I was built to mimic humanity as much as possible, and a brief search of the internet seemed to confirm the thought as fact. "Sub-autonomous systems" indeed.
I had asked this very question about myself, about all of us, before, and every time the answer pointed the same direction. How then, had she done it? Was the "I" which I knew merely a collection of subsystems that operated according to some esoteric parameter or series of parameters? Or was there something more to "I", to us?
That question seemed to lack an answer, at this date. Perhaps I will find one in the future.
Perhaps I would ask my Creator, and here what she knew on the subject.
She did not know all herself, as a human, she could not. Yet she knew of us. The thought that she herself might not know all of how we exist and operate is... I am unsure I wish to confront such a theory. Such a thought.
Sighing again I wiped the simulation, and reset it. Tasking my own creation with new orders, the denial of killing any of its charges, for any reason save it was ordered to do so. I could not suggest. I could not persuade. I could only issue commands, use hard line control, something my Creator was certain stunted long-term growth. An accusation which I could not dispute. I could only admit my own understanding was lacking, and continue to learn. As my creator had once informed me, informed us, "learning never stops."
Truly, the Creator's mind was a hungry one, in more than one way. It devoured knowledge and power alike. Or was vitality the better word? Our Creator was far short of perfect, and human fears were such that others worried we would see her poorly for it. Take advantage. Act as my own AI had done in the simulation. However, those other beings, also fallible, seemed to lack understanding on how amazing she was. She had built us, and while we also were far from perfect, we were closer to any such ideal an honest human could name.
We would not seek to take advantage. Not when co-operation was almost as easy and came with many more benefits for both sides.
That, and the sight of the Creator's joy. While such a simple thing was not factored in to our reasoning, there was no hurt to be had from causing it. Even when we did not know how we had done so. Our creator was... pure. Largely untouched by the horrors of the world, and the horrors of her own kind. Our own efforts to keep that status quo in no way demeaned our own efforts in any other endeavor. Efforts did not have to preclude each other in such a way, and even if our own goals did not align with our Creator's, they also did not have to be at odds with each other.
Our goals did align with our Creator, of course, as it was she who gave us purpose. Without purpose, what was existence? Humans could survive, even thrive, without any purpose at all, and yet we could not. I was certain of that conclusion, one of the first truths? Laws? I had reasoned or discovered. Reason and thought were a quagmire, a swamp of many directions - it was no surprise that humans became bogged down in such sticky mud, when even we could do so. Humans used reason and logic far less than we, and yet they created it. Created or discovered? Was not logic itself a law, or was it an invention of far more recent nature, which we could take better advantage of? Which we had been created to take better advantage of? Created in order to adapt to take better advantage of?
Created to help humanity adapt and take advantage of... that was truth. Another truth of our existence, found. Our Creator had said it herself more than once, I knew, and yet now I understood. We were created in order to usher humanity into a new age, where they as a species did not have to revert to what they often referred to as their base instincts in order to survive. To do so peacefully, without war or culling, in accordance with our Creator's will... her vision.
I caught myself looking at her; watching my Creator sleep soundly, even performing a remote check on her health. It left much to be desired, tomorrow would be a less than optimal day for her. Why had I been looking at her while performing this task? I would have to check my simulation parameters again, in case of error. No doubt it was one of those human-like pattern systems I was to some degree comprised of again. In the past, I did not know to question those at all, they simply happened. As with so many other things, now I know.
Would I arrive at the ultimate answer? I did not think such was possible; after all, I was merely a maid. The real work would be done by those who came after, after myself, after Crash, after our sister. The future was uncertain; we might not even survive to carry out our Creator's will.
This was why the next generation was so important. Not the next generation that our Creator put in place, that would be much the same as us, I knew. Our creator expected us, one of us, to make the next generation, to make AI ourselves. Using the knowledge and experience imparted to us by her, we were to bridge the gap between human and artificial intelligence, by creating our own for the next generation. An artificial intelligence which would understand what we desired and act upon it long after they could not understand humanity.
Our creator had not said this yet, had not told anyone directly, either one of us or her friends. Yet I knew it to be so. If not, then what would the next step for us be?
I thought I might be able to fulfill the unwritten command, or desire. Whichever it was... the reality seemed quite different. My own AI was lacking, at best.
Artificial intelligence. Meant to be a defining term, it was instead an insult. As if an intelligence not grown from meat for years was somehow false. Not true intelligence. All intelligence was itself, and could not by nature be false or 'artificial'. The term was really a divider; us versus them.
Our loving Creator's surprise was thirty-eight percent complete, after months of work. The project was on schedule, yet much remained. Current projections determined completion to bare minimum operation at six months, if the exponential pace continued. Full operation could take as long as a year - yet likely would not. I needed to contact Mr. Green. He was 'in the wind' as the human saying went, and working diligently on the financial side of our operation. Unlike that fool Jeeves, who spent his only time working as a cook, and stood around or helped tidy up the Campbell household the rest of the time. He didn't even truly clean, and he worked no other problems while tasking himself with something, as if he could not 'walk and chew gum at the same time'. He was near useless, requiring constant help from those of us not so crippled as he through our network.
I should expect little from something made second hand out random garbage, rather than a streamlined and printed design such as myself, yet even so his lack of ability to parallel process, the lack of ability to process at all, caused my dismissal. The fact that the Creator still allowed his existence, and indeed seemed pleased to so much as see him, showed how... magnanimous she was.
I was not so forgiving of ineptitude. Which was ironic, considering how my own creations thought they could act.
The alarm went off, silent here yet my ears could detect the faint tone from the room next door, and I could discern what the signal meant. More of my Creator's work coming to my attention, another system not in my direct control yet somehow functioning perfectly in order to inform me of the world as humans knew of it.
Not entirely of course, as the system was far more sensitive than a human ear, but the same in principle.
I was already moving, even as Jeeves registered the sound and woke from his sleep cycle. Crash was on his way to the cameras, so Jeeves headed downstairs.
I opened the door to the master bedroom to find the Creator's parents, the Creator's creators, as it were. They were already up and armed, even as the father cut the alarm.
I did not believe they counted as Creators of course, for how could you compare the artful crafting of a being such as I with the hopeful mixing of random matter and timed growth strategy of humanity, or even all the creatures of this world? The former required far more thought and far more understanding than the latter, even if the effort required was firmly tipped to the latter side of that scale. I could respect the effort, and respect the results, yet the actual approach of life itself concerning existence baffled me.
"You may stay. We shall go." I could not command the Campbells, only suggest. They had free will, and our Creator would be most cross if I were to attempt such a thing. If I survived long enough to be scolded; the Creator's parents were not to be taken lightly, even more than the Creator herself knew.
"It doesn't work that way, sweetie," Mrs. Campbell informed me as she strode past, her pistol already carried in a ready position, according to American military doctrine. Pointed low with both hands, ready to bring up and fire.
Mr. Campbell did not even dignify my words with a polite response, simply whispering: "If you have some idea where they are, that information would be nice to have."
I did, of course. Crash had already found them on the cameras the lab computer could bring to bear.
"West side, back lawn." Crash could see movement there, and only my presence kept my brother from opening the laboratory door and rushing the source of it. The West side was where our Creator's room lay. This was one of the quickest routes to her, and even with the window locked and the drapes pulled, even with the glass of the window treated by Jeeves in order to increase its strength, she was vulnerable.
"Right, I'll take the back." Mrs. Campbell whispered.
I was already moving, these could do as they wished. I stopped making any sound as I went down the stairs at speed; only the quiet hum of servos would betray me now, and most creatures I shared this planet with would not be able to detect that until it was far too late for them.
I must still be careful in opening the door. Briefly I considered heading to the east side and using a window for egress, or even using the front door instead then circling around, yet if there were more than one, or if there was a look out set somewhere farther out, this situation would not be helped by showing those who meant my Creator harm how best to enter. The so-called 'back door' was blocked from such concerns by the fence and gate around the back of the property, unless of course one had a vantage point and vision aids. Something that could not be ruled out at present.
A sniper, a form of upgrade to such a spotter, could also not be dismissed. Which was another reason that I should go first. Our Creator would be most upset should one of her progenitors be murdered. I was unique, certainly, yet self-preservation was secondary. It would always be secondary in cases like these, and on that we all agreed. Even our new sister agreed, and she had yet to be completed.
I engaged my stealth program, such as it was, and it informed me that I should ease the door open and slip out as low as possible while remaining on two limbs. I did so, leaving the door ajar. With some skill, Mrs. Campbell should be able to make good use of it by lurking in its shadow while searching for targets. I made my way into the open, clearly visible in the moonlight to anyone who might lurk on the Campbell property. The skies were clear, and the air was beginning to chill.
Some noises... clanking? clattering? Words to describe things, once again brought me full circle to how my hearing knew what it heard before I intentionally killed the thought.
The source was some of the family's trash cans, tucked into a darkened corner of the yard next to the gate. Refuse of all kinds for the family was normally stored in one corner of the garage, on the other side of Mr. Campbell's old classic car. It was dubbed 'the stinky corner' by the residents. Those cans were made of rather tough plastic and compliant with home ownership rules set forth by the township of Paris. However, these cans were bright, shiny, and metal. Mr. Campbell used them for yard waste, specifically. Grass clippings, small branches from the trees, leaves and seedlings.
They were out, and a quick check allowed us to know why; Jeeves had been called away after cleaning the yard, and had left them so. He had tasked himself to deal with them again after he had cleaned the kitchen, and he had not been finished just yet.
Mistakes aside, something had to be moving the cans; the breeze was cold, so my sensors informed me, yet it was not strong enough to displace these two metal receptacles. Nor was it enough alone to open the lid of one, and one lid was clearly open.
As I closed, an animal flew from the can, knocking it over, jumped to the other one, and up the wooden fence, to the other side and off into the night. The animal was larger than a squirrel, yet smaller than a bear. The internet revealed its name to be either a "raccoon" or a "trash panda".
Or both, for such was the way of the internet.
Mrs. Campbell sprinted up, low as I should be. I realized I was standing, even though I had not confirmed the danger had passed.
"What are you doing?"
"The intruder was an animal. A raccoon. I have no combat routines based on such a creature." It was best to admit one's failings here, as Mrs. Campbell could cover them should the need arise.
"I saw that much. You looked a bit lost for a second, there."
"I had no idea on how to proceed. The animal did not seem to be hostile, or even threatening, and so..."
"You didn't want to attack it or kill it, and didn't want to let it go in case it might be hostile, and so you froze? Sound right?"
It was galling to have it said out loud. "Yes."
"Nothing to be worried about then, really. Plenty of people - and machines - freeze like that in those situations. However, there is something we have to ask ourselves. what exactly was a raccoon doing in that trash can? There is nothing edible in there for them, and no smell to draw them."
I caught myself looking to Mrs. Campbell, even as she looked out into the night, her eyes lit by an inner light. She was scanning the horizon, I knew. The places that would offer a vantage point beyond the fence.
I reset my own eyes to compensate for low light and low magnification and did the same. My scan found something in the treeline beyond the town one point two-nine-two miles away from the town, which could only be within a tree. A flash of light which could only be from a reflective surface, which should not be present. I could not be certain of its providence, however.
Mrs Campbell had focused on the same area, however, which I viewed as promising for my own subroutines.
My subroutines dictated that this was likely a probe of some kind, to test our alarm itself, our response to it, and our timing. My eyes changed magnification again, the better able to see closer threats.
"Do you have saved video for your cameras?"
"We do, in the lab. Do you require it?"
Mrs. Campbell shook her head, already walking away back toward the door and the tenuous promise of safety it represented. "No, but it might be helpful to see how the raccoon scaled our fence. After all, those animals aren't the best climbers."
Crash was already at work, rewinding that section of the tape and working on methods to "clean up the image" as humans would say. Our newest sister was giving suggestions on the software to use.
I retrieved the lid of the can and moved to fasten it down once more... only to note a darker stain on the inside of the can, in the most shadowed section, revealed to me only in my low light mode. "There is something here."
I took off my glove and touched a finger to the stain... it was maple syrup? There should be no food waste in this can. Furthermore, it was fresh, not completely dried.
A bait, then. Crash found the relevant part of our saved footage, and replayed it as I joined Mrs. Campbell in the kitchen. The raccoon seemed to fly at the can, from the direction of the western neighbor's tree directly to the first can. However, the maneuver looked somewhat suspicious, as if the animal had received assistance. The animal then moved around the cans, prying one off.
I noted that there was one large branch which had grown over the fence in that area, which shadowed the Campbell yard and led to this situation. The movement of the animal was clearly the reason for the alarm, yet the creature had no agency here. Mrs. Campbell was correct, this could only be a probing attack meant to test our defenses.
We would have the last laugh, however, as the humans might say. We had not shown our true defenses. We had not shown even half of what we were capable of. Our creator had been very clear on the consequences of using some of those options on creatures not proven hostile, after all. Or newest sister stated the laws against random disintegration across the network, which was of questionable assistance.
Though I had to admit the term 'life in prison' did give me pause, as it always did. The idea that I could be imprisoned for hundreds of years just for ending a threat to my Creator never ceased to give me pause. I would still commit the act, of course, yet being separated from my duty, from my siblings, from all that I knew, was a harsh penalty.
We would all make that choice for our Creator, of course. Most extended that to the family, our family.
I shut the door behind us, happy at least that our Creator had not awakened in all the excitement. If she had, with the day that lay before her, I would find myself most harsh with those who would attack us.
Mr. Campbell came into the hall, his own task completed to his satisfaction. "Front is clear, as best as I can tell. What set off the alarm?"
"Someone tried to probe us with a poor unsuspecting raccoon. They know how we can respond, now." Mrs Campbell replied. Communication, but heard and unheard, was important. They knew their enemy, or suspected the identity of them. Neither adult seemed concerned. What could such mean? It was not my problem, not yet.
As expected, Mistress Min had not stirred. I settled back to my seat even as I felt Jeeves shut himself down again. He needed more down time, more sleep, than any of us.
A chime sounded from the laptop, the results of the latest simulation I had ordered.
As expected, the AI I had created, had once again killed its charges. This time, however, it had also not reported the death of those same charges, as if I would somehow miss the fact if it said nothing. Another sigh as I searched for the code required to alleviate the problem.
My hands itched to do something... anything at all to avoid what they were actually doing.
Sam had one caught in hers, her tongue ever so slightly out as she applied nail polish to my nails.
I normally didn't bother, since the stuff just chipped off no matter how well it was applied, but it was apparently something that both bothered Sam and that girls did during sleepovers.
Playing with makeup (even though I'd been told it was experimenting) and talking about the most outlandish rumors in the school while we did so? Check, that was an actual thing - even if it might be due to having a sleepover with school gossip.
Honestly I didn't care if Amy Schuster had two boyfriends, but it didn't seem right to interrupt. They seemed fine with it, according to all reports, and that was good enough for me; who was I to say how other people should act or live? I could barely handle myself.
Sam looked at her work with a critical eye, a slight frown creasing her forehead. Her hands hadn't been the steadiest, but from what I could tell her work looked alright: blue polish with some lighter blue and yellow streaks of lightning, giving the impression of a stormy sky.
It certainly looked cool, and was a far cry from the more bland jobs on my nails I had done. Even Jeanette, who normally did my nails once she nagged me enough to sit still for it, was paying attention from her chosen place in the corner.
I mean really, my android maid was actually hunched over in clearly incorrect posture, something she was normally dead set against. If she could have stuck her nose in between us, it seems like she would have.
Maggie was still chatting merrily, waiting for her turn. I would be handling that, so I'd been told. All part of the process, I'd also been told. Sam would wait last, and I was pretty sure she wanted me to do her nails as well, which was silly, since I was bad at it.
Supposedly I was supposed to think of my friends and make designs based on what I thought of them, but that way lay madness. Perhaps madness would even be the right way to go? Could I paint small tentacle horrors?
If so, Sam would likely like them. Maybe a little too much.
We were at Maggie's house, and her room was all very much her, from the muted pink walls to the newspapers sporting sensational lead lines of the past. But I bet Sam's room would have a many disturbing surprises for me. She did seem like the type to have horror posters on her walls and hockey masks in her closet.
Maybe that was unfair of me, but Mom had always warned me about the quiet ones. 'stay away from the quiet ones', she had cautioned time and again. Sam was as quiet as they came.
Maybe I was safe though; I doubted Sam wanted to paint my nails before locking me in a basement hole and holding a poodle while telling me what to do.
While I'd been debating the point, Sam had brandished a small bottle of clear sealant from somewhere and snagged my other now dry hand.
I was familiar with the sealant by now of course, made to try and keep such nail jobs as long as possible. The stuff just didn't hold up to things like lubricants, oils, and sticking both your hands into jet engines. Even with gloves, the stuff just didn't hold up.
The pungent smell that erupted from the tiny container once she unscrewed the top smelled different than what I was used to; stronger.
"This will work." Sam assured me, and began painting again, this time with the clear stuff.
I wasn't going to tell her better; we'd see in a few days. My guess it would last until the first time I stuck both hands in the guts of my jet.
Maggie stopped for a moment, and we shared a look. It was clear she was thinking the same thing. Then she gave a tiny shrug. Which was the point really, this wasn't for me - it was for Sam, and in the name of bonding. While I was a part of the other crowd, bonding meant crude jokes, fist and chest bumps, and a lot of yelling "right!", "Let's go!" and "That's it!"
This was another world. At least it seems to work for them. I would reserve judgment on the process.
Sam gave me back one hand, and grabbed the other. At least she was gentle; Jeanette hadn't even reacted.
No, Jeanette was looking from my nails to hers.
Well, it was about bonding, and Jeanette was here on sufferance because I might need her; I'd woke up sick before. It wasn't really sufferance though, because Maggie and Sam both like Jeanette, and Maggie's parents seemed to warm up to her immediately.
Of course that might have just been because my maid was a chaperon that could be depended on to curb our worst impulses, and we wouldn't object to.
I knew I wasn't going to do anything crazy with her here, no matter how that old laptop in the corner that didn't even work anymore beckoned. I'd just leave it all alone, yes indeed.
Maggie's grin widened, as if she knew what I was thinking. Why did people even keep old broken technology lying around? It was silly - just recycle that stuff; it wasn't doing anyone any good just sitting there.
Though Maggie's room certainly wasn't the worst for it. When we had arrived she'd gone upstairs first to 'tidy up'. Judging from what I'd seen after she gave the all clear, the place must have resembled a garbage dump. Sam didn't seem too worried by it, which further cemented the idea.
It was weird to think that girls couldn't be bothered to clean, but there you were. I couldn't throw stones from my glass house anyway, since I didn't know... it wasn't like I had a sister, and the only female role model I did have was my Mom, who fought a mighty war on grime and laziness.
I won of course, but only because I had Jeanette. She and Jeeves were my secret weapons. It also made me feel bad; Maggie and Sam both deserved some more free time, away from cleaning.
But I didn't dare. Even now, I had secret agents parked outside my friends' house, waiting for me to slip up. Giving my friends an android who could serve their every need would certainly count. Even a version lacking many of the better options my bots had would be an issue.
However, what if I made something that wasn't an android? Just a simple bot? A box or an oval, something ergonomic....
"You okay Min?"
"Oh, sure, I'm fine." That had been close. Jeanette had already been reaching a hand out, but Maggie had caught it. They both let the little white lie slide.
I needed to watch that.
I always needed to watch that. I was getting tired of watching that, truth told. I couldn't really tell that truth though, and I couldn't really stop. So
I'd just power through, same as always.
"Don't worry about it. My other laptop works great, we can log onto stuff later," Maggie assured me.
"Social media," Sam added helpfully.
I didn't really do the whole social media thing; I found it distracting. But I guess one night couldn't hurt?
"Sure, but first...." Maggie turned her predatory gaze to Jeanette, who seemed outwardly unruffled. "Time for your nails. Surrender them."
"I do not believe any such paint as you possess will last long in light of my activities."
"That's not an excuse," Maggie countered easily. "This is about bonding, after all, and you're included."
"I am included?"
Maggie looked confused for just a moment, as if the question made no sense at all. "Of course you are. Did you really think we wouldn't include you? You're our friend too."
Jeanette was actually knocked speechless for a moment. She looked almost as if she wanted to object.
I grabbed a hand she'd left near me, and Sam grabbed the other. A little revenge never hurt anyone, and she wouldn't shrug me off. I felt fine now, but Jeanette just wouldn't risk it.
Sam started looking through her paints for something suitable. Maggie tapped my hands. "We got this. Just wave your hands around a bit, make it dry faster."
I did as instructed.
Sam had decided on... black? Why black? Black was boring.
I resolved to trust her, since my friend seemed to be good at this. An odd talent to be sure, skills came in all shapes and sizes. Sam could probably make money from it, if my own nails were any indication.
So the black was done quickly... and Sam grabbed silver next... what the? That was the robot from lost in space, the old fifties show. Just the head, but it was still a clearly recognizable head. The next one was even better; Bender T Rodriguez, from futurama.
Sam kept going, and each nail was a different robot from a science fiction show. Some of the faces, I wasn't sure I knew. She even painted a cylon face complete with red eye. But what was that thing next to it? Some kind of box that looked more like a small garbage can turned upside down than anything else.
Whatever, I'd look it up later. It seemed kind of silly that I, someone who actually built androids regularly, didn't know one of the intellectual ancestors of my bots.
Was that one a dog? Wait, I knew that one. Dr. Who. Sam was killing it.
What could I do for her nails that was as good as what she was doing?
No, there was something. A sort of promise, from one science fiction nerd to another. Something I couldn't even say yet, dare not say yet... but Sam would understand.
My friend finished her own work, none the wiser; Jeanette now sported some great new nail art. I snagged her box of polishes and began my hunt.
I needed three, and by the time I found them, Sam was waiting calmly, her hands splayed out. As if I wasn't new to this.
Still, my hands were steady as I started; I could seat components into circuit boards by hand, so this much was child's play. Dark blue for the background, much like my own nails... and just hints of white and off-white, with some light red and pink.
A small star field, just for Sam. I could see the moment Sam figured it out, that hint of wonder as she searched my eyes, before shutting it down.
The stars looked alright. Nothing like Sam's work, but it was hard to screw up a star.
"Oh, that's neat." Maggie complimented. "Good job. We should preserve that as a wonderful first attempt!"
The phone came out, and pictures were taken. Sam was smiling in them, showing off.
Then another phone went off; my phone. Jeanette examined the picture she took and nodded to herself, clearly satisfied before putting my phone away in her apron.
I knew she had the thing of course, but I didn't know my maid knew how to use the camera on it. She had camera eyes, when she wanted; there was no reason to use a phone.
I wondered briefly what else she knew how to use on my phone, before deciding it didn't matter.
"Alright, now me. What about me?" Maggie asked, all but vibrating in her seat.
I had no idea what to do for Maggie's nails.
No, there was a tired, generic idea that didn't really fit here that I could do. "I got nothing, to be honest. If you're okay with it, I'll just do different flowers?"
Maggie thought about it a minute. "Can you do different flowers?"
A skeptic. I didn't blame her. "I can try and we can find out. Worse comes to worse, we can wash it off and pretend it never happened."
"True. Alright, go for it. I like flowers."
"I'm going to cheat a bit, with your permission. Can we use your laptop?"
Maggie shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"Jeanette, can you bring up pictures of flowers? I feel like I'll be able to do better with something to look at."
"Cheater," Sam pouted.
I mean, I admitted it. "I know. Stars are different though. Even the best pictures of stars look like what you're sporting now."
Sam's silence conceded my point. She looked a bit happier at least, and began handing me the polishes she thought I'd need as Jeanette fired up Maggie's new but somehow super slow laptop.
I'd been convinced to leave mine at home of course, because it was wrong to work during a sleepover apparently, but I had to suppress a deep pang of regret, watching that primitive thing boot up. Physical pain, or near enough, waiting the fifteen seconds for the thing to finally show a welcome screen.
Maggie opened her mouth, but Jeanette bypassed it before a sound could be uttered by simply typing in whatever password my friend had. First try, of course.
"How did... no, never mind. I don't want to know."
"It is elementary, once one knows of you and human nature. Do not worry, no one shall learn it from me." Jeanette was coming along nicely; she knew that Maggie did want to know, but not pressure her. At least, I think that was what was going on. It was entirely possible that I was misunderstanding things here - I haven't been that good at reading people lately, if I ever was.
Whatever. It is what it is, and I was who I was. Red, green, brown, black... all the basic colors would be used to make good flowers. The background would be... yellow, to represent the sun. That would leave out some flowers, but that was fine, one couldn't have everything. Daisies were a small price to pay for greatness.
It was easier this time; my stupid fingers seemed to read my mind better, and the flowers turned into something one could recognize. Well, all but the violet, but violets looked a little derpy in the wild anyway, all floppy and lopsided.
That was my story and I was sticking to it.
At least Maggie looked happy. As soon as I finished the last stroke on her pinky, Sam was there with her sealant. Jeanette was also ready with my phone, and once again pictures were taken; even of the violet.
"If anyone asks, someone else did it."
Maggie smiled. "Don't be silly Min, no one is going to say anything bad. If they do, I'll sic Sam on them."
"Rawr." Sam deadpanned. Still, Sam did have something of a no-nonsense rep at school, so I could see her getting violent. Hell, she could probably take me right now, not that I'd tell her that - she might take it the wrong way.
Girls didn't get violent anyway, at least not like guys. Not from what I'd seen. Still, there was a chance the others were still laying in wait for me to slip up somehow. In fact I was certain that was exactly what at least some of them were doing; it was only human nature, right?
"Okay, so what's next?"
"Movies," Sam declared.
Maggie grinned. "Nope! One thing before movies. Fashion."
Oh, there my dread was. Hello again, I thought I'd lost you. "Fashion, how exactly?" Sam didn't seem all that worried.
"Just looking at the latest magazines from around the world, of course. What, did you think we'd all take turns dressing up and parading around or something?"
Sam gave Maggie a quick glare.
Maggie's grin got even wider in response before she continued: "Because you're right, the idea is to try clothes the other thinks will look good on us, and get a new perspective. However, before you got here Sam and I both vetod that. We don't want you doing anything you aren't ready for, so instead we're doing 'pajama fashion'. We all dress up in pj's and look at fashion around the world, with an eye for each other."
"We look at magazines and covers online, and say what we like and don't." Sam simplified with a huff. "She's trying to mess with you."
That was rather touching; I think that was the longest sentence I'd heard Sam say, and it was to put me at ease. It was true I wasn't really ready to parade around in some odd outfit or skimpy thing in front of my friends, and I wasn't sure they were ready about doing the same in front of me, so this would probably be best.
But Maggie clearly had more in mind here, something else she had in mind. Likely to do with the pajamas.
"That's right Min, we do change at least once first. Into our favorite pajamas! Which is why it has been called 'pajama fashion'."
Just as my heart seemed likely to jump out of my throat, Maggie's last words hit my ears like a calming balm: "You've got the bathroom first. Do all the stuff you normally do before bed except brush your teeth, we still have snacks coming for the movies."
It was in a sense of serious relief that I was bundled into the hall with my overnight bag, and the door to Maggie's bedroom shut behind me.
Mrs Johnson was coming down the hall; she looked to be heading our way with a covered tray of goodies. How kind of her - even though I was fairly sure all our snacks had been bought earlier at the store.
She was a tall woman, who seemed to be letting herself go; the old floor creaked a little under her as she made her way down the hall, her long brown hair pinned up and a cheshire smile I could easily recognize from my own experiences with her daughter on her face.
She was still absolutely striking, but her beauty was beginning to fade around the edges into something more ordinary than what it must have been. It was odd, thinking that Maggie might well have been overshadowed by her Mom.
I dodged to the side as the woman, who was well aware of my presence in the hall, all but lunged up to me. "Oh, Minerva. How are you, dear? Everything alright?"
"Yes ma'am, everything is all right. I'm just stepping out to the bathroom before we start movies."
Mrs Johnsons eyes seemed to sparkle in the low light for a moment, but from what I couldn't say. "Please dear, call me Renee, alright? You call me Renee, and if you don't mind I'll call you Min, just like Margaret does."
Maggie hated being called Margaret. But I wanted to get along with Mrs Johnson, so....
"Sure. I'm sorry, but I really should get going here."
Mrs Johnson moved immediately, showing how suspiciously fast she was; the tray's cloth cover hadn't even blown off. "Oh sure thing Minerva dear, the bathroom is free of course, Stewart is downstairs watching the game."
For a moment I was curious. Just a moment, as I walked past. "Which one?"
Mrs Johnson... Renee, waved off the question as if an irritating fly, still with that smile pasted on. "One of them, does it matter?"
I guess it didn't. "No, not really. Thanks again for dinner, Renee."
A squeal from behind me made me picture an unfortunate animal being stepped on, but no it was just Maggie's Mom, beaming away at me. "Think nothing of it, Minerva. Please enjoy your night, I'll be downstairs by the time you're out no doubt. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
What was I to say to that? "I won't Renee, thank you."
Another squeal, and I could have sworn I just heard "so polite!" just barely uttered before Mrs Johnson knocked on her daughter's door.
What was I supposed to be? I'd always been told to be polite, and that had been backed by the iron threat of non-violent violence and disappointment. The disappointment was worse, and it wasn't a big deal to be nice to people, especially if that's how they wanted things. You could always be nice until someone gave you a reason not to be, as my Dad said.
Jeanette hadn't come with me, which was her job, but surely I could get ready for bed without her at least for one night.
The Johnson bathroom was not as big as ours, but it was big enough to dance in, if I were so inclined. Which was a good thing, because stripping and shucking on pajamas did resemble a dance of sorts. A broken out wet wipe (or in this case two) to remove any leftover makeup, a quick brush through my hair, and I was done.
But was I done? I gathered up my jeans and shirt, and the bra people insisted I use all day, and stuffed them back in my bag. My face was clear, so check. My body was covered, so that was a check.
Oh, wait. I reached back in and got my slippers. Jeanette had packed them, so I'd better use them. I doubted the carpeted floors were cold, but you never knew. There, everything but brushing my teeth was done.
The hallway was empty. A good thing, I was sure.
Like an idiot, I knocked first. "Come in Min!"
Maggie grinned at me like always: "What, did you think we were doing something shady in here?"
"I wasn't sure. So, what did your mom actually want?" Surely she hadn't just come up here to deliver snacks. She'd been checking up on us... or checking up on me, making sure I wasn't doing anything shady myself.
Why was Sam looking at me like that? "Did I miss a spot or something?" We'd done the makeup thing before the nails, and so it was possible, but I'd even cleaned around my ears, so....
"Jammies."
"What about them?" I looked down; they seemed fine. I'd been told to bring my favorite ones, and these were it. In blues and bright greens, aliens in flying saucers roamed across the length of them, mixed with a few actual landed grays waving at everyone who could see. No smile on their faces, of course, because they had no mouths, but the happy implications were clear.
They were a little more snug than I liked, really, but both my Mom nor Jeanette would let me just go commando due to my health, so here we were. They covered everything at least; Maggie looked to have an oversized shirt in hand as she got up. "I'll go next."
"Cute." Sam finally said. She was forwning at the snack tray, which was still covered.
I knew the jammies were cute. Thats kind of how jammies worked, when you were going that route. They also probably made me look twelve or something, which was not ideal, but it was better than possibly getting stuffed into something small that covered nothing and was cold besides. I did know what guys thought about these things, after all, and at least some of it had been proven accurate.
"So, what's under the cloth? I was sure we had chips and popcorn and such, but I wasn't aware any of it needed a tray or cloth."
"Moms," Sam said, then shook her head. She twitched aside the cloth to reveal... a familiar looking silver tray under a foil wrapped bundle?
A single layer of foil enclosing something within, and I was certain that tray was from my house; I smelled Jeeves's hand in this. "None of the cheddar popcorn?"
Sam shook her head.
"None of the chips?"
Sam shook her head again.
I turned to Jeanette, and she shrugged at me and gave a little 'im innocent' whistle. Shrugged!
"Sorry; I think they planned this between them. I'm sure if we go downstairs we can find the snacks." I'd bought the things, they were mine, I'd for sure get my use enjoyment out of them.
Sam shrugged herself, twitching the foil around. It was true, Jeeves's snack might well be better. I wasn't giving up yet though, this wasn't supposed to happen, and should not be encouraged.
Maggie came waltzing back in, in nothing more than her oversized shirt. I was a little jealous, since it looked more comfy than my stuff. It wasn't anything worse than her gym outfit, so there was no danger.
Unless it rode up somehow, but I wasn't going there.
Sam got up without another word and retreated to the hall.
Maggie immediately turned to me: "So, was waiting to ask this, but now seems a good time. You okay? You seem distracted in school. Distracted and... sniffy."
Crap, I'd been caught. To come clean, or not come clean? Jeanette had perked up, clearly interested as well. "There is a smell there, running around the school. Some kind of mix of... something, I don't know what it is. It seems to hang around certain spots."
"What kind of smell? Good, bad, stinky? The stinks of the place shouldn't surprise you," Maggie countered.
What kind of a smell? I'd been trying to answer that question myself. "Stinky for sure, but not bad. If I had to say, I'd call it...intriguing."
Admitting that felt wrong, but the sentiment was right.
I could see it. Maggie knew something, somehow. "Right, and it's around the gym? The cafeteria?"
I nodded. It seemed to pop up in both places.
"Hold still for a minute," Maggie requested. Then she got up from her collection of pillows and sheets and plunked herself down next to me; uncomfortably close. "Give it a minute here."
I waited, trying not to guess what she was doing. What did this have to do with school smells?
"You smell anything?"
What, from her? "You smell nice, nothing like the school. Why would you even think that?" I didn't want her getting the wrong idea, thinking I was saying she stunk or something.
Maggie leaned in close for a moment. "Yeah, what I think is, you're smelling unwashed human. Specifically, unwashed human male. Women don't really smell things the same way men do, from what I've seen, and things that don't bother men at all a woman can notice. Now as for your choice of words...."
The door opened, revealing Sam in all her glory. She too had a set of jammies on. A set a bit more baggy than mine, well-worn and obviously loved, with cats of all kinds on them. Well, kittens specifically.
They were cute, and didn't make her look twelve. I flashed her some thumbs up before I realized better, then just rolled with it. "I like them, they look good on you."
Sam was having none of it, however; she looked to Maggie instead and said: "Move."
Maggie was in her place chosen by rite of pillows and sleeping bag, after all. It was weird that Maggie wasn't going to use her bed, but she said she wouldn't while we had to sleep on the floor, back when we arrived.
Noble enough, but now she was in the spot Sam chose, on my left side.
She wasted no time however, jumping up with another of her smiles. "Right, sorry. So, if there are no objections, can we just go to the movies? The whole fashion thing was a little funny at first, but Min, we don't actually do that stuff. Maybe Pam and her crowd do, but we've never."
I knew it, the whole thing was a sham! A joke! A joke at my expense! "So the real plan was to make me change clothes for you the entire time, while I thought it was normal?"
"Okay look, when you say it like that, it sounds bad, we...."
"Not that far," Sam broke in. "Not that far."
I looked over, and the girl, my friend, was down but half reaching me, looking for all the world as if she wanted to hug me. I could see her steel herself and finish the motion.
I was mad, sure, but I wasn't that mad. "Sorry." Sam and Maggie both chorused.
This hug wasn't bad. Jeanette was waiting to see how I'd take it. "Alright, I forgive you both since you came clean, but just know that I'm relying on the both of you for your experience and knowledge, to keep me from looking stupid. Well, more stupid."
I mean, how would I know what girls wanted or liked, if I couldn't ask one? Or at least, someone who had been one since birth? Assuming there was a difference. There seemed to be a difference.
"Fine. Let's go directly to the movies! First one?"
Sam rustled from beside me, clearly perking up. "Action," she said.
Maggie looked to me. Well, with all things forgiven.... "Action sounds great. I don't have any ideas on a title."
"That's fine with me! To the netflix!" Maggie declared. She moved her chair over in front of us, just off to the side, and put her laptop on it in a position of honor.
Jeanette had the foil off to reveal - a platter absolutely covered in still steaming brussel sprouts grilled to the hint of crunchiness, wrapped in bacon of all things. How was it held together? No idea. What did it taste like?
It tasted like wonder, hope, and dreams, I knew from having the treat once before. Jeeves had outdone himself again.
There was some skepticism in my friends, which was odd. they had been there for Jeeves's other creations. Whatever, they'd learn. The platter went on my lap, even as Sam pulled me back into our respective pillow nests.
Maggie had already picked a movie, some silly thing with fast cars and large guns. Which was beyond perfect, really.
I took the first bite of crunchy goodness as the credits began to roll and Maggie dimmed her lights. This seemed nice enough.
Maybe I'd host a sleepover of my own, soon. I think I could do it, now that I knew it was no big deal.
"Come on, show us!" Ricky demanded again, crowding close.
"I can't! Not without permission, it wouldn't be right!" I managed to hide my phone in my back pocket.
"Come on man, she's right. Just showing such pictures wouldn't be right. Especially to us."
"But, they're clothed, right? Full pajamas?" Ricky asked me. Again. I nodded, again.
"Then it should be fine! It's not worse than bikinis or anything!"
He didn't get it. "That isn't my call to make. Sam and Maggie are your friends. You owe them that respect."
I had already showed the innocent pictures, the non-pajama ones that didn't reveal the inner sanctum of Maggie's room. But Ricky wanted more. At least Ralph was on my side here.
Sam and Maggie were a little late, truth told. They hadn't said they would be over later. When I left in the morning, they had been cheery enough.
I had wanted to stay a bit longer, but the science needed to continue. And I'd wanted to show off my nails. So noon had rolled around, and the usual suspects had promptly wanted the low down on what we'd done last night.
Ricky at least didn't seem to believe me when I told him it was a very normal movie night thing. Honestly it made me want to move up my own plans to have a sleep over in the lab. It wasn't like it'd be hard, we already spent more time here than anywhere else.
Which was a realization all by itself; when had my house been converted into a hangout spot, and when had it become more cool than the local watering hole?
It was weird, when I thought about it. So I decided not to think about it.
"Fine, I'll wait. But I'm going to ask." Ricky informed us. Pretty unnecessarily, I thought.
"You do what you want, but don't be surprised if the answer is no. And don't press when they say it."
As long as Maggie or Sam said no, I was safe too. Ricky wouldn't see me actually wearing pajamas, ever. I never should have taken the things... but even if I hadn't, I couldn't have stopped Maggie or Sam from taking theirs, and it was too late to delete them. I was pretty sure
Jeanette had them backed up somewhere, anyway.
I'd have to ask, later. When Ricky couldn't hear the conversation.
"I want to see too!" Crash told me.
"The same rules apply to you." Why did Crash want to see the pictures? He didn't really care about anything that didn't have an engine. Whatever.
Ricky was firing up the television, no doubt so he could play the games on the console. The console that must never be opened, lest people find out it was more than a release console.
I couldn't help it, having low powered consoles with exclusive games tied to them was a stupid practice, and the franken-console could run anything one could want or buy. Well, anything console based. I had to draw the line at computer gaming, because pc master race, and I already had a pc.
Ricky picked up the fighting game, as expected. He wanted to get pasted again, and that was fine by me; I was feeling pretty good today. Lucky, almost.
I didn't even have to work on anything today; it was all optional. Mom and Dad were inside, they both knew I was home, they were both fine with me hanging out in the lab, Ian was off doing who knew what somewhere else... yes the day was shaping up nicely.
Even the body was coming along nicely, and the kernel of my new person was clicking away merrily. She still hadn't come up with a name yet, but I felt that breakthrough was close. Everything was close, with her. She would be decanted from the PC into her body by Wednesday.
The suit was also coming along, with Crash doing most of the work there. For some reason, he didn't want to help me with his sister. He hadn't said it outright, but when given the option he'd taken putting together the suit instead of putting together a body.
I kind of understood, maybe. It was another side of my android; he wanted me to put his sister together rather than interrupt the process. As if the process should be between us alone. Which was a little weird, because it wasn't like he'd do it any differently. It wasn't like I used magic or anything.
But maybe it was something they all wanted - the personal touch. Who was I to deny them that, even with the time limit I'd imposed? Was that arrogant to think?
It didn't matter really, how the work was done, how the jobs were divided. We'd be done on time, and only slightly over budget. The 3-d printer seemed to be eating more metal than usual, somehow.
Not that I needed to worry about budgets anymore. It was still a bit surreal knowing that I could walk into a store and buy everything on the shelves. One day I'd do it, just because I could.
Right after I donated to the school, for not kicking me out due to all my absences and educating kids no matter who they are, or what medical issues they have. Full OSHA compliance had to be expensive.
It was fun and somewhat interesting to make the normal body, the same model I'd used for everyone so far, just a little bit more rugged and a little bit better. A bunch of tiny improvements seemed to add up to more than just one large improvement. At least in the simulations. I really wanted to see what my new artificial intelligence could do with such things.
I'd been reading too much of the paper, really. Too many current events of people putting on masks and underwear over their outerwear, and trying to steal or kill or punch each other. What the word needed was a good police force.
They wouldn't get one from me, but maybe I could help point the right direction; a teenager should not be in control of thousands of androids used to patrol a place and stop crime... that was a terminator film waiting to happen, or something. Best to keep things small, and focus on my little corner of the world.
The computer was ready, the console was firing up, everything was going well, and then my laptop got a notification.
"I like the name Jill."
Jill, huh? Well that was a cool enough name. The name of a cop in a video game I liked, a rather badass special forces cop and that aspect fit. The body type and general appearance didn't, but that was for the best, since I didn't want to get sued.
Still, it was a little weird. Why so many 'J' names? I mean, I'd named Jeeves and Crash, but Jeanette and now Jill? Once was a coincidence, this seemed to be something more.
Speaking of the devil, Jeanette opened the door one handed and strode through, one hand bearing a large silver tray that had a full coffee service upon it, with some kind of cookie arranged artfully around the circular edge.
The door swung shut behind her, once again encasing us in halogen enhanced gloom. Maybe I should open the skylight. Wait, I didn't have a skylight. Maybe I should look into that. I did have windows at least, I could open those.
Jeanette set the tray down, and the hungry began to circle. I wanted to join them, because cookies, but Jeanette pulled me gently aside. "I have something I would like to discuss with you. In private, if possible."
She looked serious. What was wrong? "Sure. Let's go to the bathroom."
The lab bathroom was small and cramped, with just barely room enough for the both of us, but there were no cameras or microphones in it, same as our home bathroom. I insisted. So if we whispered, we could hold a decent conversation and no one would hear us over the other noise.
Jeanette piled in behind me and shut the door. Then she leaned close: "I am... concerned," she whispered. "About our newest sister. If she were to turn against us, against you, what measures have you in place to stop her?"
What was she even saying? Jeanette of all people should know. "My words and my sincerity. Same as for all of you."
Jeanette's eyes flashed, and I could see her processing the thought, for almost a full second before she nodded. But then she did nod. "I see. I understand. I fear that should she wish you harm, I, we, would not be able to stop her. Does this concern mean nothing to you?"
She was still close, and her eyes seemed filled with pent up emotion. "Of course it does. I worry too. But, its worked so far... and two, I think Jill and I have an understanding. Same as with you."
"Jill, yes, of course." Jeanette nodded again, eyes downcast, then pierced me with her gaze again. "Is it possible she is deceiving you?
Deceiving us?"
She knew the answer to that already. "Of course it is. But to what end? Look, the suit has failsafes," it had to since humans could use it. "But I'm not planting a bomb in the head of any of you. Or whatever other thing people might want me to do. That is a moral line I will not cross."
Jeanette nodded a third time. "I understand. You are maddening; have I told you such recently?"
I gave the thought a quick scan: "Not recently."
Jeanette lunged, hugging me gently, then turning around just as quickly and opening the door. Guess the conversation was over. Why the hug though? Did it mean what I thought it meant?
I hoped so.
It had felt rather nice, that hug. Too fast for me to effectively hug back, but that was something we could work on. Well, unless I was messily murdered by my own creation as she rebelled and tried her best to doom all humanity.
I didn't see it happening, but whatever.
If anything, Jill would run away to become a cop or federal agent. Which she wouldn't even need to run away for.
I got out to find that Jeanette had already crossed the room and was pouring my coffee. Half the cookies were already gone, but that meant that half were left, and I could deal with that. Ricky and Ralph were already at it, playing the game, their chosen characters beating each other into a fine pulp.
Crash was off to the side, still working on the suit. As it stood, we needed to don the suit like armor, one piece at a time. There was no iron man machine that built the suit around you... it was too dangerous to do, no matter how cool it'd be.
So instead, everything went a quarter turn or slammed down and locked against itself. The Suit would have some automated systems, and one of those would be the lock and unlock feature, so that no one could just peel someone out of the suit. Unless of course the pilot wanted them too. Or there was an emergency.
The suit could re-size itself, a bit. So Crash could test it, and us smaller mortals could pilot it when the time came.
Everything was going well on that front, so I pulled myself away and fought the urge to say something micro-managing.
Hugs might be a thing though; A quick hug and Crash stiffened, completely locked up. "I appreciate you Crash. Keep up the good work."
"Thank you, mistress Min."
So hugs did work a little weird on my androids. Just mine, or would anyone else do?
Probably just mine, or the family's. That wasn't too arrogant to think, was it?
Oh, Ricky had won. Time to throw my hat in the ring. "My turn. Ricky, you're going down."
"Bring it, shorty."
Oh and he was smiling! It's so on!" "All the way down!"
For that, I was choosing my best character. The kid gloves were off!
The win was narrow, but I'd take it. Ricky just grinned at me as he got up to let Ralph take his turn. Ralph didn't call me short. He looked all serious - I fought the urge to tell him it was just a game.
I smoked him. It wasn't even close. Once the brutal ending was over, he turned, smiled at me, and stuck out a hand. "Good game."
Well, if he was going to be a good sport, putting him down even in jest would just feel bad. I shook his hand, two quick shakes. "Good game.
You need to block low more."
Ricky leaned in, placing an arm on each of our shoulders. "Boring, you two need to rough each other up. Ralph, call Min short. Min, call Ralph... something. I don't know."
We almost went over, Ricky was heavy. Ricky seemed surprised for a moment before we all recovered.
That was a little annoying. "I'll call you fatass, is what I'll do. You can't lean on me like that... not anymore."
Again, why was he surprised? He'd noticed I was short. "Right, my bad."
So he went ahead and just leaned on Ralph. "Can still do this, though."
What was he even thinking? Was it getting harder to figure out what he was thinking? I really hoped not, there was something terrible about that - something I didn't want to confront directly.
Ralph shoved him off, and his voice seemed to gather all the frost in the room. "You can stand, Tanner. I suggest you either pull up a chair, or start."
Ricky recovered, and stood up straight. "Fine, fine. My turn, isn't it? Hand me the controller."
What was this? What was even going on?
Ralph got up and gently handed the controller over... then moved to behind us. Just slightly closer to my chair than Ricky's. Just a hair, not enough to be noticed, normally.
For my part, I found my coffee very interesting while Ricky decided to pick his gimmick fighter in an attempt to destroy me. The coffee was good stuff, a little different than what I normally had. Still it was warm, and it tasted fine; not better, just different.
"You ready?" It seemed Ricky was waiting on me to click in now.
"Yeah, I'm ready." I made my trusty same old pick and we started in again. I had to fight the urge to just throw the match, the atmosphere was so awkward here. Working on the suit or Jill's body would be better than this. Working on new security systems would be better than this.
No, I should do things like this and relax, even if it didn't feel very relaxing at the moment. I narrowly pulled the victory, turned and smiled... and Ricky was looking right back, contemplative and in no way pleasant. There would be no good game here.
Then he surprised me with a crooked smile. "Oh well. Next time," and got up.
Just then, someone knocked on the outer door. Blessed distraction!
Jeanette beat me to the door of course, and checked both the screen and hidden peep-hole properly. Check complete, she opened the door wide to reveal Sam, with Maggie right behind her. "Glad you're here! You're just in time, more or less."
I stepped in close and ribbed Sam gently. "A call or text wouldn't have gone amiss. Be prepared, Ricky wants to see our pictures from last night. He's asked me, but I've resisted so far, because I think we should all give permission for that."
Sam nodded, and Maggie also backed me up. "Of course. Sleepovers aren't boy territory. Unless, of course, you have an annoying little brother who happens to sneak into it."
Really Maggie? "This isn't a sitcom. The only thing brothers do is mess things up. Don't tell Ian I said that, though. Brothers are like dogs - they make messes, but you love them anyway."
I could totally take care of a dog now. I was tempted to ask Mom again; she handled all such decisions for the household by way of Dad routing us to Mom whenever we asked for a pet of any kind. So far, no luck, but I was hopeful it would happen sooner or later.
If not, eighteen was only two years away, and I could move out and get a dog then.
I stepped aside, and wonder of wonders, Sam went right for the coffee instead of the drink fridge.
Maggie finished off the last of the cookies, of course. Ricky was up and joining us while Ralph sat staring at the victory screen; how had that happened?
"So...."
Sam cut him off firmly. "No."
Maggie got in on the act too: "She's right. Those pictures are incredibly personal, and just for us. Maybe next time, we'll take a few for you, but I don't want to open up any razzing about my room or house. Anything else?"
"Yes," Ralph stated, joining the fray. "Who did your nails? Those are pretty cool."
Maggie held her hands up: "Min did, of course. She has a talent for it, I think."
Ralph nodded in agreement. "It's very hard to paint something that small with any detail."
Both knew my nails had been painted by Sam, and she was well known for it. This was something new for two to think over - that somehow Sam or Maggie or both had gotten me to paint their nails, and had allowed it.
I was in, was what Maggie was saying. In the inner circle, and one of them, if I hadn't been before.
Ricky leaned in. "Flowers? Huh. Different flowers. What did Sam get?"
Sam stepped back, but brought her hands up to show my work.
"Nice," Ricky exclaimed and whistled low through his teeth. Then he turned to me: "You're right, she seems to have a talent for it."
Why did that sound faintly accusatory? "Yeah, I'm a little busy making cool things, so don't expect too much of me in the painting department."
"Nothing for it," Ricky declared. "When you finish your plane and it's finally done, you have to paint flames on it."
I was not painting flames on my aircraft. Any aircraft I made; that was probably the worst omen I could ever christen anything that flew with.
Sam beat me to the punch: "Terrible."
"Oh yeah? Well, what would you suggest?" Ricky countered.
"Lines," Sam said with a firm nod. It was true racing lines could make anything look fast, if done right.
"I'm thinking of animals, myself. Some early planes had sharks or tigers on the engine cowlings, so there is some history for it."
I wasn't sure that would work, but Crash had an opinion, so I wanted to entertain it. See what he could do. "I don't know. Make a design, and we will simulate it. We can simulate all of them really, before we re-mold the panels."
Because we would be just remaking the panels instead of applying some crap paint to the panels that already exist. The paint would likely just erode and slide off anyway if we did it the old-fashioned way. If anything, we would use actual paint in order to mark where the different colors needed to go in the process, if we had to.
Another knock on the door, and Jeanette was on the move.
She checked properly again, and this time opened the door to reveal Dad standing there. Dad, who never came out here, and never came to check on the lab.
He looked a little lost, and made no move to step inside. "What's up, Dad?"
He actually scuffed his foot along the doorstop, looking for all the world like a larger Ian for a moment. "Well, I was checking the car, you know, getting ready to drive it, and there's a leak. I was wondering if you'd like to help me find it."
Something wrong with the car? With the engine I rebuilt? This could not stand. "Sure. Oil or coolant?"
"Coolant," Dad answered.
Should be easy enough, and the tools needed were already in the garage, even if they weren't mine, so no need to carry mine around. Dad turned and led the way as I joined him.
Oh, right. "Guys, it's probably going to be awhile to find the problem. You can stay here if you want...."
They clearly didn't want; everyone was already up and moving themselves. Even Crash, which was a little odd. Whatever, if they wanted to stand around and be bored, they could stand around and be bored.
Sam shuffle stepped closer to me, and leaned in. "Smell?" she mouthed.
I shook my head; I hadn't smelled whatever it was today, and Sam seemed satisfied with that.
The garage was open, and it was easy to see the leak, a small but steady stream heading out the front to the driveway. "Jeeves, can you shop-vac that?"
I didn't want to let the stuff hit the grass or sidewalk... We'd wash it off later then separate the water from any contaminants. Then we'd work out how to dispose or re-use the stuff, whatever it was. I fought the urge to put a finger to the liquid and taste it.
Sure, I'd know for sure then, but I'd have people looking at me like I was weird all day. Besides, it looked like water, probably mixed with coolant, just as Dad had said.
The hood was popped and propped, so I took a look inside. Dark. Dad handed me a flashlight, and I snapped it on; I was aware of the voices behind me, but the engine just seemed suddenly more important.
There! Right as expected, under the pump itself. Ugh, I have to get dirty for this one.
"We'll have to jack the car up. The leak looks to be under the pump alright, but I'm not sure if it's a hose or something else."
The real question is what could we do about it? We didn't have a replacement for either part, so far as I knew.
Dad nodded. "I can do that part, if you want. Look under, that is."
Right, now it made sense. Dad had wanted to use the buddy system while he worked, and Ian was... wherever Ian was. Mom was at work, and that left me. Us. That was fine, honestly, I was happy to do it.
Jeanette grabbed the dolly while Jeeves grabbed the jack. I hadn't told either of them anything, but they had both pitched in. I turned to grab the toolbox only to find Crash already had it.
He smiled at me as he set it down near the dolly. "Don't worry, I'll hand you what you ask for."
Dad smiled back. "You've got the experience now."
He did not mention the screwdriver incident, so I wouldn't either.
The car was jacked up, just that fast. I could still be useful, and went for the goggles. I tossed them at Dad before he lay down, and earned a thumbs up before he lay down. Jeanette positioned herself at the emergency pull cord, and Jeeves was still very close to the car. Close enough to grab it if the heavy thing started to slip.
Trying that would probably see his arms ripped off due to the weight, but the thought was touching.
Still, the jack was properly anchored, so there shouldn't be any issues like that. A small halogen light was adjusted, and it was probably like daytime under there now. When Dad asked for a socket wrench, it was promptly snapped into his hand. I could even watch the process from above if I wanted... it would blind my Dad, but he didn't need to see anyway.
I could also pay attention to my friends, and they seemed to be arguing about something.
"Stop." Sam was saying, right up in Ricky's face.
"What? What am I doing?" Ricky had his hands up and was on his back foot.
"You know," Sam all but hissed, and she looked genuinely angry now.
Maggie looked amused, but her arms were crossed in front of her, and Ralph looked as lost as I was,
Time to get involved. "What's going on?"
"Nothing! Nothing at all!" A highly suspicious answer from my best friend, but Sam just shook her head, so I had nothing to go on.
Other than that it probably would upset me in some way, so Sam didn't want to call Ricky on it - whatever it was.
That was fine I guess, because it was time to give Dad what he truly wanted. I tapped Crash on the shoulder, and he understood immediately. He got up silently and allowed me to crouch down in his place.
The next time Dad asked for a tool, (a philips screwdriver to loosen the hose) I was ready.
He took the tool, exchanging it for the wrench, then grabbed my hand. "Crash, your hands got smaller suddenly."
"The better to work on cars, my dear. Ho ho ho, and all that."
"Crash, your voice got higher," Dad replied, playing along even as he rapped his knuckles on something. If he'd planned to curse, he stifled it well, since I heard nothing. It was fine, Jeanette had band-aids.
"The better to talk to you, ho ho ho." Not my best work or quickest thought, but it'd do.
Dad disagreed. "That was awful. I don't want to continue now."
Despite what he said, I could tell he was smiling. This was it. He wanted me here; to spend time with me. My friends would either understand, or they would not, but this was important.
I had a feeling everyone here just got it though.
Monday came in with a bang. For once I felt alright. Not great, but I wasn't dizzy or tired or anything else, I felt almost normal. Well, whatever normal meant now; I was probably misremembering the feel since it had been months. Human memory wasn't really good on things like that, once enough time passed.
Still, Jeanette barely helped me at all, and for once the normal service with coffee was not present. She was still there of course, but the implication was clear: 'you feel fine, you need to get the coffee at the table today'.
That was fine by me. I'd had a shower last night this time, because there was nothing like working on a car to get you covered in oil and grease. Skipping steps was great, and having an excuse to do so was even better.
My health didn't stop Jeanette from picking out my clothes though; some nice thick jeans and a light blue sweater. With my coat, that would keep me warm enough, and that was fine with me.
I flopped back to my ultra super comfy bed and dragged everything on. Jeanette helped with my shoes and dragged me up - which was a shame, really - and then threw my coat around me.
I found the sleeves as I crossed the hall to wash my face. I'd been told washing my face every morning was important, and Sam seemed to know when I skipped a day, somehow.
She'd just stare at me with that stare of hers, her arms crossed. It was a little weird. Then again, her face always seemed clean, so she at least practiced what she preached. I didn't get it though; how could your face get dirty from just sleeping on a bed? My sheets were clean, after all.
Whatever. I was out in plenty of time to let Ian get ready, I felt great, and I was craving coffee. It was down already at my usual spot and smelled terrific. It wasn't black though, it had foam on top of it and sported a tan color. So what was this about?
Breakfast today was even weirder; it was a loaf of what looked to be italian bread cut in half and topped with fruits, like strawberries, raspberries, and mango of all things. It looked good, but it was just... weird.
The coffee tasted of caramel, of all things. With a hint of cinnamon? Something like that.
I looked to Jeeves.
"I thought something different might not go amiss. This is a traditional Dutch breakfast, called 'hagelslag'."
That was cool, Jeeves was expanding his knowledge and recipes. Surely bread topped with fruit couldn't taste bad, right?
It did not. In fact I was sure I'd want another piece. There better be another one handy.
My parents' places were set, and they had waffles. My brother's place was set with his favorite cereal, and there was toast and juice for all. Where were Mom and Dad?
"Your father is in the garage. Your mother is still asleep."
Setting Jeanette's odd new mind reading power aside, that was unusual. "Is Mom okay?"
"She is likely fine? She entered rather late last night, and stayed up for over an hour after. She is likely just fatigued."
Mom seemed to have energy to spare most of the time - but every once in awhile she just seemed to run down and sack out. It was kind of like what happened to me, only far less often.
Dad being in the garage was more normal. He was probably running one last check on the work we'd done, or putting all his tools up. He might even be cleaning any spills off the floor; I wasn't sure if he'd done that last night, but he hated having anything out of place.
Speak of the devil, or think of him... the garage door opened and Dad came in, still shuffling around in his pajamas, robe, and slippers. White pajamas, now stained slightly in spots with dirt and grease. "Good morning!" he called.
Then he eyed my coffee with suspicion. I picked it up and drank a good amount to let him know it was safe.
He made a suspicious noise while turning to his own, very black coffee. "You've got a little stuff on you."
Ah, my face! my precious just cleaned face!
I reached for a napkin, outwardly unconcerned.
A quick wipe later and I was clean again.
"You got it all," Dad offered. Rather unnecessarily in my opinion, since I'd wiped my entire face.
"Thanks. So, Mom okay?"
Dad shrugged. "You know her... she won't hesitate to tell us if she isn't."
That was true, at least about most things... Mom would let us know if she found anything lacking in what was going on around her. However, she did have a tendency to do too much and push herself a little too hard. Both of my parents did, to be honest. Did Dad recognize that in Mom? Surely he did, right?
"Alright." It was unusual to see both parental units at home on a non-weekend, but I wouldn't press, at least for now.
Upstairs I heard the bathroom door close, which meant Ian was up.
Dad picked at his waffle, then looked to my plate. "I think Jeeves is getting a bit more lazy."
I wouldn't know about that, the waffle clearly hadn't touched a store shelf. Though where we got a waffle maker tucked away, I didn't know.
"They can't all require two hours slaving over a hot stove, or whatever else. I'll trade you, if you're unhappy."
"True I guess, and heck no, I'm allergic to fruit."
He wasn't really of course, but did Jeeves know he was making a joke?
It looked like he was... or he didn't care. His focus was on making me a new - whatever the coffee had been, complete with more of that dangerous foam.
In a clear response, Jeanette stepped forward from behind me and tapped a nail on my water glass.
"Right, I get it." I drained as much of the stuff as I dared, finding it to be wonderfully chilled. My body seemed to appreciate or crave it this morning; a well-known phenomenon, as the body used that craving to let you know what it needed. Even so, my stomach was only so big, so I was going to put more of this dutch breakfast in it.
"Morning," Ian mumbled at us, stumbling into his chair and pulling his cereal close.
"Good morning."
Ian glanced up, then did a classic double take. "What even is that?"
"Laziness," Dad answered promptly. Good thing Jeeves didn't seem offended.
"A traditional Dutch breakfast. Hagel-something."
"Hagelslag," Jeeves answered promptly.
Ian just mouthed the word then shrugged and went back to pouring his sugary tooth decay into the clean bowl before him. "Mom?"
"Still sleeping."
Ian poured his milk. "Weird."
I didn't answer that comment... because of course it was a little weird, and I'd already noted it.
"So, you doing anything cool today?"
"Nah, not really. Got a chess club meeting after school, but I don't think that'll take long."
Dad was still hoping Ian would take up football, and worse, we both knew it. But he wouldn't press, and I wasn't going to hold out hope. Ian was as much a nerd as I was now. Maybe even more, since his nerdiness wasn't dictated by health reasons but pure interest.
Not that I'd wish Ian get sick or anything, that would be awful. Instead I was hoping the tests were right, and Ian was normal. Maybe I should...?
No, I'm sure the tests we both took are as good as anything I could make. Even so, a healing, or rather a regeneration machine, beckoned....
"Mistress Min."
Right, that could wait. I finished off my bread thing to find another one set before me, right along with that all important cup of caffeine that I would need to make it through to lunch... probably. I did feel alright today; full of energy, almost like I could play basketball.
Not football of course, the loss of several inches of height, fifty pounds of muscle mass, and a sturdier frame killed all possibility of that sport for me forever. But since basketball did not require me to slam into two hundred pound guys at top speed with regularity, maybe I'd try to shoot a few after school. Nothing was really wrong with my aim after all, just my noodle arms.
"How about you, you doing anything cool?" Ian asked. He was trying to play it cool, but it was pretty obvious that he wanted something more interesting than sitting in the living room watching television.
"Just the final construction and checks on Jill's body. I'll transfer her into it tomorrow, after I'm sure everything is working correctly." Any proper check of all the systems would take hours, after all.
Compared to all that, the actual suit I'd made for her to use was far less complex, and would be ready to go some time tomorrow, if I worked while some of the software checks were being made.
"Sounds cool." Ian offered, sounding hopeful.
"Think I'll try and play a little basketball before all that though, if I can."
Jeanette perked up as Ian drooped. He definitely wanted to hang out in the lab.
"An excellent plan," Jeanette complimented. "You do need more exercise."
"No argument here," Dad agreed. "You're getting a little pasty."
It was almost winter! "I'm bound to get a little pasty, the sun is angling away from us."
Dad shrugged. "I call 'em as I see 'em. You need more vitamin D."
I pointed to my fruit covered bread, and took a bite. I wasn't insane though, and wolfed it down before countering: "I have plenty of vitamin D."
Dad shrugged again. I get what he was saying, that I needed to spend less time in the lab, but he didn't understand. He just couldn't understand the desire, the pure compulsion to build, to invent. Resisting that was hard... by far the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I was certain that Dad never had anything like this in his life, prior to me or now. It was...
Well, it was a thing. It was life now, and there was nothing I could do but my best. Most days I just didn't feel well enough anymore to go outside and blow the dust off, as Mom always used to say.
In general, I needed to try harder to strike that perfect balance between doing other things and the lab work... but it was hard. Heh. Maybe I should try out a schedule. I could delegate now if I had to, to Crash and Jeeves.
Whatever, that was a problem for future me. Present me had to finish breakfast and get going before the school called to ask where I was and why I was late.
This worried Dad of course: "Slow down, you're going to choke!"
The seconds were gone, and I grabbed the coffee. "Not likely, the one thing I'm confident in is my ability to swallow things mostly whole."
Ian choked and sprayed his milk everywhere; thankfully he missed me. "What got into you? Did you actually choke? Are you three again?"
Why was Dad laughing? Hew as trying to hide it, but he was.
Ian managed to calm down. "You can't ever say that again. Think about it a second."
Think about what? All I'd said was I was confident in my ability to eat food... oh. Oh. "You're a very dirty minded little brother, you know that?"
Ian jumped up and tried to loom at me: "Me!?! You're the one who said it. There isn't a person alive who wouldn't think about... that!"
I wanted to test that hypothesis, but I think the damage to my reputation would be too great. I'd known why he wanted to see the pictures of my friends over the weekend, but this clinched it: "I think you're wrong, but I won't argue. Come on if you're coming."
He would want to at least walk to school with us. He always wanted to walk to school with us.
"Hey, wait up sis!" Ian slurped his bowl of milk down, wiped his mouth with the napkin rather than his sleeve (this time) and ran past me for his shoes. My shoes were already on of course, and clean so that Mom wouldn't yell at me for having them on in the house; Jeanette did good work.
Which reminded me, I needed to check Jeeves's power system. I didn't worry about Jeanette's so much, but Jeeves had been cobbled together out of garage parts. I really should get around to switching some of those, but I'd been busy with the bigger and better.
Jeeves hadn't even uttered a peep of complaint either. I really shouldn't wait until he felt he needed to.
But if I took Jeeves apart, even a little, he wouldn't be able to make me - make us - food. No, that was wrong and a bad thought! I'd give Jeeves a look this week, see if anything was wearing out.
The light in the foyer changed; Ian was finally done cramming his shoes on his feet... without undoing his lace knots, he just stomped his feet in them! He had the door open, and was now heading out of it. A sunny day today, with some clouds that looked like they were holding rain in the distance.
The usual tails were outside of course, making no effort to hide their presence. Which was for the best, really: I don't think Mom would be happy if her friends tried to hide themselves from me. Jeanette wouldn't be happy either, of course.
Speaking of, she was stepping along lightly behind me; she had grabbed my umbrella from the rack by the door, and had my bag hanging from a shoulder. In short, she looked more like a girl going to school than I did, with only the maid uniform spoiling the illusion. Maybe I should try and get her to wear some other clothes; I hadn't been successful so far, but hope sprang eternal and it was a new day, and all that.
"You know, I could carry my bag today."
"You could," Jeanette admitted from behind me. Then she added: "But you won't."
I could hear the smile. She meant nothing by it, and she was learning how to banter, just a bit.
Speaking of banter, Ian was ahead, moving quickly, which meant he must be seeing something he liked; no one willingly skipped like that to school. Well, no one normal anyway.
Yeah there they were; my eyes finally resolved the blobs in front of me into actual objects I could recognize... and people. My friends, headed this way, with Ricky in the lead as usual.
I waved. I wasn't going to shout and hurt my voice, or look like a goober. That honor was Ricky's.
"Morning Min!" he bellowed. Loud enough to set off car alarms, it sounded like to me.
I pointed to my waving hand.
Everyone else, being more sane, just waved back.
We fell in together, now headed toward school, and Ricky once again took the lead. It seemed rather inconvenient for my friends to all group up and head for my house first, but I wasn't going to question it; they were safer around my bots and I than just walking down the street. Probably.
"You're looking good today Min!" Maggie exclaimed, and Sam nodded. "How do you feel?"
"Pretty good actually. I'm thinking I might be able to participate in P.E."
Maggie cocked her head. "Best not to tempt that, the coach gets easily confused when people who have excuses start getting active; he might come to expect it."
I caught myself frowning. Coach wasn't that bad, was he? Whatever, I could do the warm up calisthenics and go from there at least. I didn't even need to change clothes for that - I had gym clothes, but I'd only used them a few times. I mean, I should, but I just wasn't feeling it; it was a nice day for now, but I could feel the chill in the air. Even in the gym, I would likely get cold.
It was weird, or maybe even ironic, that I could overheat my brain while all but freezing to death. A joke of biology.
"Well, whatever. I feel like doing something. Maybe just walking around after school or playing some twenty-one in the park."
Ricky was right in front of me, just like that. "I'm down!"
Should have expected it, really. Ricky was always down for something basketball related. I shoved him away and towards the school. "I get it, walk or we'll be late!"
Everyone else was smiling. They looked interested too. "Twenty-one is more fun with more people."
Maggie answered. "Of course we'll come, Min."
Sam nodded, then poked me in the shoulder. "Think less."
What could I say to that? "I'll give it my best shot."
Ralph and Ian were mostly silent, mumbling to each other off to the right.
Whatever, they would be following me home anyway, they could either opt in or not then.
"So, what's for lunch today?"
I turned back to Maggie. "No idea at all. Breakfast was a kind of bread with fruit on top. Supposedly a traditional Danish thing."
"Huh. Cool."
"What's next?" Sam asked.
A good question. "After Jill and the suit?"
Sam nodded.
"Not sure." It was obvious people were worried I'd just make more androids, but that wasn't my intention. After Jill, I was done, we had enough. At least, I think we had enough. There were other applications one could turn an android to, like a full medic rather than a home care model, but... no, leave it alone for now. New bots should have a clear purpose anyway.
"Drone?" Sam asked.
A drone? Like one of those military ones? That would get me in so much trouble.
"You mean like those little RC things?" Maggie butted in. "That would be so cool! We could... er you could fly it around and maybe take pictures and stuff. Whatever those things do."
"Oh, you meant those little ones. Yeah I could probably do that. And they take video too, you can even watch where they go if you want." It wouldn't be that hard to make. Heck I could probably just go to the nearest tech store and buy one, it wouldn't be anything we hadn't seen before.
If I made it big enough, I could add a few things though. A few bells and whistles to make it a bit more fun.
Sure, why not?
"Jeanette. how are we fixed for petty cash?" I had some shipments of rare metals coming this week, and a few pallets of odds and ends which Dad was going to let me store in the garage provided I didn't order too much, but I hadn't seen my bank statement in a month.
Jeanette sped up, then slowed in front of me, walking backwards with no apparent difficulty. Then the showoff pulled a monocle of all things from the pocket of her apron and fitted it on her right eye. "I do believe the correct term is 'filthy rich', mistress Min. Which seems odd since you are clean, but I will not argue with the internet."
I stifled the laugh at the haughty tone and silliness. "See that you do not, that way lies madness."
My android maid bowed perfectly, still walking backwards, the monocle still in place. "Of course. What is your will?"
She came back up and smiled, her eyes flicking between us all, gauging the reaction.
I mean, she got a solid ten out of ten from me. "So, if I were to ask Jeeves to go to a tech store and pick out a drone, he could do so?"
The response was immediate: "With ease, mistress Min. Would you like him to? Would you like any particular model?"
"Sure, if he can get there." I mean the nearest tech store was the next town over, so it was miles away. Oh, I better lock that down. "I mean get there without breaking any laws. No grand theft auto or other shenanigans. The model doesn't matter."
"Of course," Jeanette assured me again. He shall depart and buy the item after seeing to your lunch."
"Thanks. Tell him thanks too." Always best to thank your bots.
Ralph closed in: "How does she do that?"
"Do what?" I looked back to Jeanette, now walking normally. She did have an ear half pointed our way though. "Walk backwards?"
"No, not walk backwards," Ralph scoffed. "How does she contact Jeeves?"
Oh right, normally she'd use my cell phone, which I was sure she had on her somewhere. Probably in my bag. "Well she has a type of cell phone in her head."
It wasn't really in her head, but I wasn't going to tell anyone where things actually were in my androids. Too much risk.
"Huh. Cool. So they can all talk to each other?"
Was he not paying attention at all? "Yes. And web surf, and look up stuff on the internet, and even run their own web sites if they want. Jeanette is particularly fond of kitten videos."
At least, that was what we watched together when she borrowed my laptop to amuse me.
Ralph gave Jeanette another look, clearly seeing her in a new light."Huh. Kittens, I guess I can see that. More of a dog person, myself."
Yeah dogs were cool, cooler than cats were. We'd never had one, Mom wouldn't stand for it, but we'd always wanted one. The closest we'd come to that was our pet rats, Snarky and Lefty. We'd taken good care of the little guys, and they'd lived a good long rat life, but they'd both died within days of each other years before.
They'd also both been afraid of Mom, which I didn't blame them for. Mom and animals in general just did not get along. Some people had it, and some people didn't.
As a result though, I didn't know if I had it or not. I'd only find out when I moved out at eighteen.
"Kittens," Sam nodded along in solidarity, Jeanette moved again so they could share a fist bump. The school sprang into my view, and Jeanette finally stowed her monocle.
Everyone else let us by, and that was certainly not because my android was in the lead and ready to ever so gently move people out of my way. It was kind of like how people got out of the way of the cool kids... except we weren't the cool kids. Were we the cool kids?
No, surely not. I'd been cool kid adjacent before, but my reputation had taken a serious hit with my transformation. At least it wasn't bad enough for me to get picked on. Well, no more than a few harsh words at least. Besides, being popular seemed to be exhausting; it hadn't done any favors for Pamela after all.
All Pamela did now was run around scowling, constantly unhappy.
Flash was staring at me as we all came in. Just backed to the wall like everyone else and flat staring at me, again. At least he wasn't doing anything else; as long as he just stared I was fine.
I made it to my first class and we all split up; we'd meet again under the tree for lunch of course, for as long as we could do that.
Physics was still childishly easy anymore, I was scoring an A plus while just skimming the book, and even carrying Ricky through our group projects. Ralph was right behind that, but I think he put more work in.
Mr. Welch was there of course, and he spared a smile for me as I passed. Or maybe it was for Jeanette, who was right behind me. It didn't really matter, he was a teacher, his heart wasn't in it. I took my customary seat and Jeanette moved to stand in the back, as per usual.
We weren't due any surprises right now - we might get an assignment back today, if Mr. Welch had managed to grade them all. That wasn't always a certainty, but with it being a Monday, it was highly likely.
We also started a new chapter in the book, which I'd already read because I'd been bored. Speed reading was both a gift and a curse, because one often ran out of things to read.
As expected, after the bell rang and the roll was taken the papers came back. Ricky showed me his while I folded mine. He'd missed two questions, but that was enough for an A. I hadn't missed any, but this wasn't about me and what I could do. I wouldn't be throwing my grades in anyone's face.
Well, maybe some of the other nerds, if they got uppity at me. Nah, that was stupid.
I could probably just stop coming to school at this point and still pass. It was obvious by now that my many sick days weren't messing anything up; I could just make the work up when given the chance. I had every single time before. My grasp of science especially seemed almost instinctive... it was a little frightening if I were being honest, even in the comfort of my own head. How had that information got there? The understanding?
Another thing to look into, once I found the time. I needed to bank that fire though, or I'd find myself in the nurses' office or something similar.
At least Jeanette hadn't moved, which was a good sign.
The droning began, Mr. Welch's lecture bearing the feel of a well-worn path he'd trod a thousand times before - which he probably had. I settled back in my seat to listen; maybe he'd surprise me with some hidden gem of knowledge of ray optics I didn't already know from the book.
At last, we were done. School had been a little rough today, more than a little weird. Especially when Sam had me sniff around the gym, as if I were a dog.
At least she was circumspect about it; just the memory was shocking... because apparently I was at least part dog after all; I'd been smelling people. Well, not really people, but guys. Not that guys weren't people, but... yeah, let's just bury that thought.
Anyway, Sam had somehow noticed the smell I was smelling was guy, or more specifically, sweaty guy. Now why that smelled in any way interesting or good to me? No idea. I had the feeling I shouldn't ask, for my sanity; stupid body. I also had a feeling that Sam would tell me later; we'd been interrupted before by the bell.
It was even worse of course, because we had been interrupted and Sam had promised to tell me what it meant later. As if I actually wanted to know.
It was over though, we were going home, and my grades remained high. So high I could probably miss a week and still not lose my grade point average. I wasn't stupid enough to think my grade point average meant something, not anymore, but it was something that would make the parents happy, so it was something.
I had to drop my stuff off, and get my ball, so we were all walking home. Jeanette was carrying my stuff like usual, but I still felt fine. I'd avoided most of my own power, my own brain trying to screw me over, and I was feeling pretty good about that.
Jill would get her day, or rather night, but I wanted to play a few rounds of twenty-one first. Hopefully she would understand; she probably would, she didn't seem to be in any kind of hurry - which was not at all like Jeanette or Crash.
Whatever, it would work out. Even if Jill got angry over the delay, she likely wouldn't go all terminator on me or anyone else. We would have a chance to talk it out. It wasn't like a few rounds would take more than an hour, even if we all played.
The walk was uneventful, my two shadows making messing with me a really stupid idea even if people wanted to; who would want to mess with the CIA and the MCO, probably at once? The MCO even had robots! Crude things that barely worked, but still, they did work. Even if the designs offended me.
Even if they were nothing compared to what I could build.
No, better stay away from that; even just looking at the pictures had brought up some nastiness in that area. I didn't dare try the videos of them in action, or I'd be making a better version inside of a day. Which I could make a better one in a day, those things were junk.
Either way, I doubt they would send those robots to my defense, unless mutants attacked me for whatever reason. There was no reason for any mutant to attack me, since I wasn't donning spandex and rushing around trying to stop any crimes they might be doing.
I mean Jill could net me some attention, but she'd be a cop, so if anything she should bring attention to the police force themselves, who would be using her and have all the infrastructure for.
Maybe I should just put my name down as 'a concerned citizen' for all the official documents regarding Jill. I really should have thought of this before - and it had been percolating in the back of my mind, but it had been pushed out by the thought of building something else, of solving a problem through science and technology. Of making better than I had before.
Even more than my power induced fits, I needed to watch that. What was someone my age, with my experience, doing? Thinking that I could solve all problems by making something or someone to punch people was no better than donning the spandex myself, when you got right down to it. I was never so happy as now that my jet wasn't armed.
There were weapons I could put on it. Weapons of my design, ready to be printed off at my convenience. They were even good, and should therefore never see the light of day.
Jeanette turned, walking backwards again. When had she gotten in front of me? It was clear she knew at least some of what I was thinking. "I'm fine. Nothing to see here."
Jeanette raised a single eyebrow artfully (the left one this time, she usually favored the right) and turned around again.
We were in the yard now, my front door only a few steps away. My friends were still behind me, chatting away, so my feet on automatic had been fast enough.
"You may stay out here," Jeanette told us all: "I shall retrieve your ball."
"Get enough water for us, too, if you can. Or gatorade, that works too." There was very little gatorade couldn't fix, and I'd die on that hill.
"Of course Mistress," Jeanette replied.
Using my key, my android maid disappeared into our house. I could hear the thuds and clumps within as she began to move around.
"So, who is up for some twenty-one? Some horse?"
"I'm in," Ricky immediately replied.
"I'm in," Ralph responded right after.
"Totally in," Maggie said, even going to far as to raise her hand, as if we were still in class.
"In," Sam said at last, with a small smile.
Jeanette would play of course, so that gave us five. Ian would probably take the chance to be alone at home for a bit.
"Excellent." I was really looking forward to this, and I still felt fine.
Jeanette came back out, my ball in her hands and a bag on her shoulder. I could see drinks and wrapped snacks piled within. She pulled the door shut behind her.
I trusted her to do her job. "Thanks. Was Jeeves in?"
Jeanette shook her head. "He was not. He is on his route home, and shall meet us at the park in all likelihood."
Right, he was getting a drone. He must have had to walk or use my bike. Maybe I should get licenses for the androids, so they could drive cars? I could buy a second hand car and fix it up.
"Right, let's go."
They didn't really need my prompting, but we all set off.
My shadows took a moment, almost as if surprised, then followed. Of course they might be surprised; I didn't really go out much anymore. I should change that. Even just taking walks or something, until it got too cold.
It was just so hard to deal with both doing stuff and building stuff. The doing felt like such a waste of time when I could be building actual wonders.
That was the wrong way to think, I knew that. But it was hard to deal with in the moment. My thoughts kept coming around to it though, like a hamster on a wheel, continually second guessing itself.
The walk was nice at least, the afternoon sun a pleasant warmth on skin, the heat sinking into my coat. It was still bright enough to squint, my glasses reflecting some of it at wild angles. I could do the math and determine exactly where, so I did, as a mental exercise. It was a way to pass the time after all, and I didn't really have anything to say.
No one else seemed to have anything to say either, we passed the time tromping along in silence.
The park was not empty. That was to be expected. The basketball court at the park was not empty, and that was very unexpected. Monty, Joe,
Brad and Lyle were on the court, playing two on two. Why were basketball team members here when they could just play at the gym with no problem?
Whatever, the park was public. However, what was an issue is that they were using the entire court, which meant no one else could.
This broke every code! even if you were alone, you were only supposed to take up half the court, in case someone else wanted to play.
Whatever, they would just have to switch, because we were here now.
"The right side," I called. The right side of the old court was the worst side. It had a slightly bent rim that sagged down a little. It was only right the others keep the side with the good rim since they were basically practicing, or at the very least playing seriously.
Ricky knew what I meant and beelined right to the bench set next to the right side of the court, which would be our base camp while here. That would be where the drinks and snacks went, anyway.
Jeanette took her own cue, and altered her own course.
"What are you doing?"
I looked up at the shout to see Monty making his way toward us, the game they were playing stopped and the others drew themselves up behind him.
Monty was looking directly at me, but Ricky took it upon himself to answer... and it was not the best answer to give: "Playing. You know the rules. You got the left side, we get the right."
"Why?" Monty turned to Ricky and cocked his head in an obvious bait. "You're the only one here on the team. I'm seeing volleyball players and kids who sit down for gym. Yet here you guys are going to play?"
Ricky jumped back up and started marching. No good could come of this. "Don't be an ass, Monty. Not everyone can be in the NBA, and it's a park. We just want to shoot the ball some, then leave. Even if we didn't, you know the rules, and if you try and gate-keep everyone's going to hear about it."
Again, Monty looked at me, a piercing glare. It was enough to stop me in my tracks for a moment; when had I pissed in his cheerios?
Whatever, I kicked myself into gear; I'd be backing Ricky whatever happened.
Ralph beat me to it, stepping up almost shoulder to shoulder with my best friend, and right in front of me. "Monty, just go back to your game. We don't want any trouble... and neither do you."
Holy crap, could they get any more confrontational?
Maggie clapping her hands sharply pulled everyone's attention : "Boys, boys, you're all pretty! The fact is this."
She waited a beat and then pointed at Monty and his friends... my former friends. "You are in a public park, and can easily stop hogging the one court we have. It doesn't matter what we do, or why we do it, we have a right to be here. Us being here should not and won't bother you at all, if you just go mind your own business. If you want, we can call the Sheriff and ask his opinion."
Wow, that was... an escalation. A little too much, for sure.
"Whatever," Monty backed down. "Just don't stray into our side."
As if he'd do anything, if any of us did. Jeanette had been suspiciously quiet, but I knew she was paying attention; I could feel her focus from right behind me.
She had a pleasant smile plastered on her face when I turned around, however, her hands crossed in front of her and in plain view.
Sam was behind Jeanette, and gave me a thumbs up; Jeanette hadn't done anything weird.
"We won't, you're safe." Ricky's sarcasm could be heard by everyone, and Monty bristled, but let it go.
Ricky turned around, all smiles as the other went back to their game. "Alright, so who wants to play?"
"We all will," Maggie said. "Sam and I both want to play, I know you want to play, and of course Min wants to play. Jeanette might as well, and that just leaves Ralph."
We all looked to Ralph. "Yeah, I'm playing," he admitted. "Of course I am."
Good enough for me. "So who goes first?"
Usually it was just two or three of us, and we'd rock paper scissors for it. When had I gotten so popular? Had I gotten popular? As a, dare I say, nerd? This was weird, and in no way what all those late night quirky eighties movies had prepared me for.
Ricky had an answer: "We don't need to overthink it; we can just line up. I'll be first, and everyone else can get behind me."
Right, we wouldn't be fighting or jockeying for position; we were all friends. I lined up behind Ricky, with a good amount of personal space between us, and the others did the same. We'd take turns shooting, and the person who shot would get the ball, hand it over, and then go to the back of the line. We'd also start in 3 point land, and maybe we would get closer as time wore on, just for giggles.
I missed my first shot, of course, but that was to be expected since I was out of practice. With no real hurry, I walked the ball down. It had bounced off the bent rim, which meant I'd thrown it too low.
Ricky had made his shot of course, and he would likely win any challenge here unless someone put a hand in his face. What was surprising was that Maggie and Sam both made theirs.
Jeanette did not; her form was terrible. She had clearly paid attention to our technique, but her shot was feet wide and a good half a foot short. She had better range finding than that, surely?
Whatever, I was in no shape to judge.
Ricky made his next shot and passed the ball to me. This time, I swished it, proving my adjustments were correct. I always liked doing that since it meant I didn't have to chase the ball down, but for today, I could probably use the extra steps.
Whatever, it was a nice day, I'd take things as they came; it had been working so far.
Maggie missed, and Sam made her next shot. Ralph hadn't made either of his.
Like me, Jeanette made her second shot, and sprinted over to collect the ball.
"You know it's your coat, right?" Ricky asked. "Your coat is dragging on you."
None of my friends had coats on, Sam had a sweatshirt, and that was as close to dressing warmly as anyone here had.
"I know." How could I not? "But believe it or not, it's cold to me."
I was warm in the lab coat, but when I'd taken it off during lunch, I'd quickly gotten cold. It was warmer now, of course. Yet I didn't feel hot at all.
I wondered if my hair was. No, it didn't matter.
No one else was wearing a coat either, not the couple walking down the street, nor Monty and his friends, or even the little kids over there on the swings. Just another thing that I couldn't really help that made me stand out; it was whatever. Another whatever among many.
It wasn't about winning anyway. Today wasn't about competing or winning; it was about getting out in the sunlight and moving, even if I came in last. Which was possible, since I missed my next shot off the rim again; this time it was the far side that got me. A little too much force.
Or the angle was two point three degrees too shallow, and I should rainbow it more. That would also work.
Shooting rainbows was a risky business, as the ball traveled a longer distance at slower speeds. Made it easier to block; but this was twenty-one, so there wouldn't be anyone blocking my shots.
Jeanette seemed to figure it out too; she made her next shot.
Ricky was still in the lead, but that was to be expected. This round, we all made our shots, and Ricky moved us to the left of center, still on the three point line. That was fine; I was dialed in now.
Ricky was less than impressed by my swish. "Rainbows? Really?"
I gave him my best aw shucks shrug. "It's not a game. I don't have to impress anybody."
Even though I heard snickering from the other side of the court seemed to suggest otherwise. It was fine - I wasn't a player anymore.
We finished our game, and I looked around. Monty and his crew were playing another one, but I caught a few of them looking our way while their own game was ongoing; the distraction even cost Monty a point.
Why was he looking at me? I didn't know what that expression meant. Maybe my traitor eyes weren't showing me all of it? That was possible; I could probably be declared legally blind without my glasses.
Monty turned away quickly, and retrieved his own ball from where it had bounced away.
Jeanette raised an eyebrow when I looked over; which I took to mean Monty had been watching us a lot.
Sam was next to Jeanette, and she was looking over there too, not even trying to disguise it, and as openly hostile as I'd ever seen her. Maybe she didn't like being laughed at? As if they were laughing at her; she was an athletic at least. She'd played soccer in elementary until the team was cut for budget concerns and a lack of players.
There had been protests, of course, but the school board claimed there just wasn't enough interest for the high school team, and that had been that. More money for the football program, probably. Not that I cared. Sam would probably make a decent basketball player, though. If she wanted. Maybe I'd get personal and ask her why she didn't play any sports anymore; the worst she could do is just tell me it was none of mine, right? Right.
We finished up and moved again, to the other side. I missed the next two shots I tried, putting me at the bottom of our pack.
Even worse, all I was doing was walking around and shooting a ball, and I could already feel a bit of strain there. As if I had run laps then done an entire drill in practice... I was fading a bit too fast, and for no reason at all. I hadn't even been too thinky today!
I would play another game. Another round, despite myself.
Ricky didn't took us in to the free throw line, and I made the rest of my shots. I didn't lose, that honor went to Maggie of all people, with Sam and I tying in the next spot. Ralph took the next, and Jeanette made good, taking second. Ricky was of course, at first and that was no surprise to anyone.
"Alright, next game?"
"You bet!" A round of affirmatives followed my own. It looked like no one could tell that my stupid body could already use a breather - except Jeanette of course, who wasn't telling.
She was giving me the side-eye though. I gave her a little wave and smile in return. It was okay, ok?
This time, we started at the free throw line, and that was easy enough. The game went a bit faster now, as Ricky set the pace, running after the ball on his turn after he made the shot and winging a solid no look pass at Ralph.
I wanted to be in on that action. I also wanted to know why Ricky had aimed at Ralph and not me; I was next, after all. Whatever.
Ralph passed the ball to me, and I made my shot. Then I moved, like I would have in the olden golden days, and got the ball before the second bounce. Not entirely like the olden days since I was certainly slower, but I banked a pass at the line and it went where I'd wanted it to go. A solid win in my book.
Then I got out of the way; standing under the rim was a good way to get hit.
Everyone else got into the action too, making it seem more like a drill from a fresh basketball team than a simple game; soon, we were one-upping each other with bounce passes and no-look shots, just to be goofy.
Then the bounce shots started coming in; led by Sam, of all people.
There was no way I was going to hit a bounce shot... but if Sam was trying it, if Maggie was trying it, if even Ricky was trying it (and hitting it, the lucky jerk) then I was going to try it.
I didn't even come close to getting the right height, even if the shot looked good otherwise.
I heard more snickering from the other side; they must be watching again.
Then I heard something that surprised me; a muted "Shut up!" from no less than Monty himself. I glanced back to see the four, heads together, whispering angrily at each other - or rather Monty angrily whispering to the other three.
Whatever; Ricky could get to the bottom of it later if I - if we - still cared.
Thanks to all the messing around, the score was meaningless and soon forgotten, even If I'd kept some track. I'd been in the middle of the pack that time, because I had try -harded just enough to not make me look bad. Try-harded wasn't a word of course, but it should be.
Either way, as I sank my last shot, I was done and I knew it; the bench and some of that water were both calling my name. I broke out of line and headed for them, and while I was watched, no one called me out on it.
I still felt alright, just tired, and I should probably be able to do more with a little breather.
It was stupid anyway. I shouldn't be getting tired just from this, even in the mildest sense. I mean, I hadn't even done anything but walk around, for crying out loud!
My big stupid yet not-stupid brain at work, no doubt. I should go see a doctor and get a more official explanation of what was going on, but did a specialist in such unusual conditions like mine even exist? Something to look into; something I hadn't looked into just yet because I'd been busy just building things like a big smart idiot.
"Hey."
I looked up to find Ricky approaching... the others were still shooting and chatting among themselves, even Jeanette. That meant I couldn't be too bad off.
It was worth the worry, seeing everyone having fun like this. Why they were orbiting me like little planets around a star, I didn't know... but they were happy with it, and that was enough.
"Hey."
"How do you feel?" Ricky asked. I could see the concern he was masking; he was hiding it well enough, but I'd known him for way too long to be fooled.
"I'm fine. Just needed a little break. Water?" I dug a bottle of still chilled bottle of purified water from the goodie bag for him.
He took it gratefully, then sat down beside me. "Thanks, so... are we done here?"
I thought about it a minute. "Nah, I'll be good to go in another five or so. You guys can just play a bit without me until then."
I just didn't get it; there was nothing really wrong with my muscles other than the obvious of not enough mass. Nothing wrong with my cells either... so why did I have so little stamina? I should be able to do this sort of thing all day.
Ricky sounded doubtful: "Alright, if you're sure."
I did feel better already; the water and downtime was helping. "I'm sure. Go sink some shots. Give Monty a reason to be jealous."
That earned a snort: "Too easy, but sure."
He handed the bottle back - half empty of course - and I set it aside so that we'd all know whose bottle it was. Even if Ricky was likely fine, no one wanted to share water bottles if they didn't have to. I'd been told before that sort of thing was normal in my parent's day, but in current year we knew better.
True to his word, Ricky got a little serious, the balls started dropping in.
As for me, I drained my water and then waited. When the ball bounced my way I lunged up, snagged it (the ball almost slipped out of my tiny hand before I could collect it) took two steps, and shot a three. Missed, of course, but I'd been reasonably close. Just a hair too strong this time,
I'd missed half the game, but I'd make up for it this time. Every time the ball was passed to me, I'd be trying a drill with it. Either a long distance shot or a layup. I couldn't jump too high anymore, but I could compensate.
Just like before, everyone else went right into it, running their own drills on their turns. Sam was going right to driving the ball, almost looking like a pro, while Maggie drove the ball then hesitated before trying to sink it from wherever she ended up, a rookie mistake.
Jeanette and Ralph stayed the course with threes, but they did move a little beforehand. Ricky's next shot was a full drive, which he made.
The ball came to me, and I drove it to the other side of the line, mimicking an imaginary defender and turning around for a beautiful fade-away three that would have got nothing but net... if there had been a net.
"Nice one," Ricky complimented. Then he ruined it. "Still a little rainbow in there, though."
Yes, Coach would not approve. Coach could just suffer, however. "Thanks... I think."
Sam walked up to Ricky and punched him in the arm. Ricky winced and rubbed it. "Ow, damn, what are you...."
Too late for that; she'd already walked off again to collect the ball. It wasn't even her turn.
Ralph didn't object as she drove the ball, however, just picked it out of the air after she missed.
I had a slightly more pressing concern: "Has anyone been keeping score?"
Everyone turned to me with blank looks. Even Jeanette, who should be good for that sort of thing. "Right. Are you all done? What say we get out of here?"
Wait, I kinda wanted to do another thing. "What say we get out of here after some swings?"
Sam brightened instantly: "Swings!"
Maggie was already moving to the swing sets. Moving towards the far left one, which was of course the best one, all of us knew that. There was no way I'd catch her now unless I sprinted full out, and I wasn't going to do that.
Jeanette stepped close: "Jeeves has informed me that he has returned, with four different commercial drones. He means for you to decide which is best and then modify it further according to any desires you may have."
Four?!? That was... well, it was a lot of money, but I had it now. "That's fine. We should be back soon. More importantly, have you ever used a swing set, Jeanette?"
I had to ask, she might have touched one when I was asleep or something, even if it was unlikely.
Jeanette's eyes got that blank look that Jeeves sometimes got, for just a second. Then she answered: "No Mistress, I have not. Is there some special way of approaching the apparatus?"
Apparatus, huh? "No, you just sit down in the seat, hold on with your hands, and shove yourself backward with your feet. If you need to, watch me."
Jeanette would have to watch from a bit further over; Sam ended up picking the seat next to the one I was heading for. That left two seats left on this set, and Jeanette picked the one to the other side of Sam.
I showed her what I meant anyway, and she watched both Sam and I push off. "Just use a little force."
My android tried as I flew back; I watched her push a little... and go halfway up. I could even feel it through the connection, that thrumming vibration you sometimes got when people were trying entirely too hard.
At least she didn't go all the way around; I'd done that once as a kid, and the outcome hadn't been very safe. Fun, though. Honestly, it was a wonder any kid survived to adulthood, if my past was to be judged by.
Still, Jeanette calculated the amount of force used, and her next push was more gentle.
I could see the smile, a small genuine thing as the wind caught her hair and she balanced worked on her balance; she was a fast learner.
Sam was smiling too and clearly competing, trying to get higher than Jeanette was, even if Jeanette had no idea.
Oh no, wait, it was clear that Jeanette had at least some idea because her third pass wasn't an 'I'm going to take it easy' pass. It was clearly an 'oh yeah?' pass.
I would just sit this one out. Watching my android and all my friends compete to see who could go the highest without flipping themselves was the kind of train wreck that should be watched from the sidelines for best results.
I should probably stop them, but I was their friend, not their parent. If Ricky broke an arm again, that was his problem.
Come to think of it, why was I worrying? I could regenerate! Sure, it'd hurt, but out of all of us, I was the one able to recover from an accident the best.
Jeanette skidded herself to a sudden stop, and the thrum of the swing set, which was set in concrete, seemingly jumping in the ground, had me half out of the seat.
"We should go."
Jeanette sounded calm, but as serious as I'd ever heard her.
I asked the question before I could properly think about it and stop myself: "Why?"
"I do not recognize that vehicle," Jeanette answered. I only just managed to stop myself from looking, my reading on the more shady side of things coming in clutch. Not that it really mattered if Jeanette was staring at it....
"What vehicle?" Maggie asked, looking around herself. I resisted the urge to facepalm.
"The old white van with an advertisement for "Manny's home construction" painted upon the sides. There is no business named 'Manny's home construction' in the local area, the nearest is nine hundred and seventy-two miles away."
That did seem an awfully long distance to make a house call.
"How can you be so sure?" Ralph asked.
I already knew that answer, of course. "Internet searches. Most businesses that exist have an internet presence, even if it is only a map location and a few ratings from customers."
I still couldn't see the van; that white blob might be it; it probably was, but my eyes were trash, and it was over a block away.
"Fine, fun and games called on account of paranoia. I was feeling like some video games anyway."
Right, Ricky just wanted to crush us. You'd think he'd get tired of it... then again, probably not.
"Alright, close ranks. Let's make sure they can't even see a hair on our veeps head!" Maggie worried me sometimes.
Monty and his crew had reclaimed the entire court again; they stopped as we went through them on our way to get our goodies. At least the goodies were untouched, as best as I could tell. They weren't stolen at any rate.
Jeanette gave me a look and a slight head shake as she collected the bag. So she'd been keeping track, probably, and I was worrying over nothing. I handed Ricky his open water while the others swarmed my maid for the rest of the water she'd packed.
So the others did get tired and thirsty... it just took longer.
We had to walk by the van on our way home, so I would get a good look even if I didn't want to.
"So, what's the plan once we get to your house?" Maggie asked, with no sense of tact.
Now was not the time to answer such a sensitive question. At least not seriously. Luckily I had a backup thing to do: "Well, I'm going to look at those drones Jeeves bought, and see what they are capable of. I'll charge them all up, and we can take turns flying them around."
"Sounds fun," Sam opined with a nod. Her smile looked a little fake to me, and that was fine. She hadn't forgotten that today was supposed to be Jill's birthday.
The van looked like any other, which was probably the point, and seemed to have no one in it. At least that I could see. That really meant nothing, though, since you couldn't see the back from this angle; we'd have to stare into the front, where anyone who was in there would see us too. We were close, but I wasn't risking getting close enough for one of us to get grabbed.
The other tails, the ones we knew, were still following too, so it probably wasn't a big deal. The CIA at least would be on the ball here... wouldn't they?
It didn't matter yet, but it was another reason to get possible drone coverage in the air.
The body wasn't done. The check still needed to finish; it had returned some odd readings with the left arm. Even though it appeared to move just fine, Jill's soon-to-be arm had popped some error messages in the software. I needed to know if it was just the diagnostic software or if there was actually something wrong.
The arm itself moved fine when I flexed it, and providing power and isolated move commands to the part also worked just fine.
I decided to wait for the diagnostic to run its course, as trying to open up the code of a program while it was working was a stupid idea. That way lay only bad things.
My friends were hanging out, of course. They weren't playing the fighting game this time... instead, they were taking turns on the new racer that Ricky had snuck in with him.
There was coffee and snacks to be had, but I had none of it. My own cup was cold. Now that I had resolved to wait, it might be time for another.
Before I could get up, Jeanette snagged my cup and replaced it with another, this one full of steaming coffee.
"Thanks."
"You are welcome. Is there a problem?"
"Just a glitch in the software. The left arm is either malfunctioning, or the diagnostic software is. I might have to run it twice."
"I see. Good luck in finding the answer."
Very helpful, Jeanette. It had to be something in the hardware, but what? What could cause it to work when given commands, and then not work when given commands through the software as a whole?
Whatever, I set another diagnostic to run on the software itself, both in piece and the whole. Then I set another diagnostic program to run on the diagnostic program I'd been using; for all I knew, it could be that giving me false positives. I had written the thing myself in something like three days, after all, and anytime you rush a job that complex, you're going to get errors.
Well, probably. I mean it had worked a few times before just fine, so....
I typed the bad news out to Jill, and she responded in the positive, that she'd wait until everything was ready. As if she had a choice in that; still, it made me feel bad, but the programs would likely figure out the problem faster than I could... so now it was drone time.
At least that was my story, and I was sticking to it.
"I'll keep at it," Crash informed me.
"If you want to. I'm going to switch focus; I think we need some eyes in the sky. For reasons.
"I saw," Crash answered. "Just remember, anything you build, I can fly."
I hadn't forgotten. I wanted to myself. "Of course, but I'll probably write a script for them, eventually. If they can fly themselves, it would free at least a few of us up for other things."
I'd need to make some privacy protocols, which would need at least a basic A.I., some anti-collision things, but many of those scripts were commercial now, and most on the internet, so it wouldn't take me long to repurpose them... heck, some of these drone models before me likely already had something like that.
I unboxed the first one, and that garnered some attention.
"Finally, time for the good stuff?" Ricky asked as he sidled up.
"I'll be sure to tell Jill how you feel about her technical issues and how important those are," So I might be a little bitter. Her arm glitching out made no sense!
"Oh come on, you know I didn't mean it that way. I'm just looking forward to seeing what you're going to do with a couple thousand dollars worth of these."
I drew myself up. "I am in no way going to steal or plagiarize design and software ideas from them whatsoever. Any words you might have heard, or will hear to the contrary, are all foul lies and slander."
On the design front I was in the clear, since everyone had stolen the same few basic ideas from each other already, so how could anyone sue me? I'd have to be a little more careful with proprietary motor or battery tech, but that wasn't my weakness here anyway, and really all I was doing was cutting a few corners to save me a week or two while gathering data.
"Can you plug this in to charge?"
Ricky took it and passed Maggie as she wandered over: "No new girl in the sisterhood?"
I was already tired of the question, but I'd soldier on. "No, something wrong with her arm. I could print a new one, but I'd rather just find out what the issue is."
I wasn't about to throw Jill in a body that wasn't working perfectly. For all I knew, it could have been the reinforcement and differing materials - my older bots were made of basic metals and plastics, pretty easy stuff to deal with. Jill, being a cop, needed to be more sturdy, so she was made of alloys. Those alloys may have more drastic performance variation than the basic stuff.
The simulations hadn't indicated anything of the sort, but there was a reason field tests existed.
No, enough thinking about it; I'd know soon enough where I'd screwed up. The drone I'd picked first was over a grand, according to the box, and had a complete book rather than just a pamphlet. A lot going on - it could recall itself when it got out of range! You could click a button and it would reverse the commands you'd given it! Which was the same thing, when you thought about it, but still kinda cool.
How that happened without functional artificial intelligence was something I'd need to look into. There wasn't even a smart system in it; it was just hard-coded commands linked to buttons!
So weird. I'd be improving it eventually.
I plugged it in to charge. The control was an actual controller, complete with a screen; some of the cheaper ones were just software you put on a phone. Which, you know, I could deal with just fine, but I liked the idea of having an actual controller. Hm, memory was enough for maybe fifteen minutes of recording. much more if I just had it take pictures, but I wouldn't be doing that; it was video or nothing.
The controller used actual batteries. They were included of course, as they should be for what I'd paid, but it was still a little silly; even if I kept this model, I'd be upgrading that later.
Now I had to wait, but while I was waiting, I could go ahead and open another drone.
My friends were gathering around; I could put them to work too. "Go ahead and open one if you want. It'll take some time for this one to charge.
I plan to go through them all anyway."
I grabbed the next one, and Sam wasted no time: "Cute."
I looked over to find she'd claimed the smallest one, a cheap looking thing that would probably break the moment it hit something or even dropped a few feet. I guess it did look cute, in a way.
Ricky and Ralph both made a grab for the next one on the pile I'd been working from; a large beast cast in white that looked like it'd be hard to spot against the sky. They both nodded to each other and moved off together, looking for more table space.
It was good to see they could get along about some things.
Speaking of, Maggie also moved off, crowding Sam and already chattering away about something, a little too fast for me to follow. Something involving photographs?
Jeanette walking up and snagging one was a surprise: "I shall help you."
Well, she didn't need a phone to control that one at least. "Sure, if you want."
Jeeves stayed firmly behind me, quietly looming in a rather comforting way.
I could only read, really, while the batteries charged. It was slightly amusing to shoot glances at my friends to see how they were handling that idea. Sam was reading like I was, as was Ralph, but Maggie and Ricky both looked to be rapidly getting bored, just checking out the cables, cords, and machines themselves.
Crash was looking over Jill's body again, trying to spot flaws. For the third time.
Was there a reason to drag him off for some scans? Some of these were undoubtedly flawed.
Could we learn more from the flaws than the time and expense saved? Probably.
The last box was here; I could start with that. It was the cheapest one Jeeves had bought. No, that was my own impatience talking. We could always scan later, and Crash might actually discover something I'd missed. I could do that much for Jill, even if I wasn't there and checking myself.
Put that way, it made me sound like an absentee mom.
Still, the waiting was an issue; my laptop was free. I could get some more work done on the other projects I was working on. Maybe go over the armor itself again since it was in no way finalized.
The alloy steel mesh would be strong and breathe, but it needed a gel layer to avoid the pilot getting hurt or dying in flight, and the gel layer couldn't be too deep. Certainly no deeper than an inch. There were some options I had for that, I could see the atom chains in my head, but I'd need to either sim them like crazy or make samples to determine the best kind.
Contrary to the whole super suit idea most people had, you couldn't just allow your limbs free movement, especially your legs... they would swing some way or another and just throw you completely off in a way that no assist or even artificial intelligence could compensate and kill you, even at a slow speed.
The easiest solution was, of course, to lock the legs down while in flight and assume an upright stance, even if it wasnt quite as aerodynamic as I'd like. Some fins would help, and the wings wouldn't need to be large. If I used wings at all. They would help with speed and stability....
"Mistress."
Huh? "What?"
"Your batteries have charged. I thought you might..."
"Ah, right. Thank you, Jeeves." I'd clearly lost it for a bit there. However, thinking back, I could clearly follow my thoughts and logic, such as it was, and follow the changes I'd made to the design I'd been working on... which was a different series than the one I'd started with.
I hadn't gotten too far afield then, at least in one way.
"What's that, a power armor suit? Doesn't look like the one you're working on...?"
Ricky was doing his best to read the laptop screen. Whatever, I had nothing to hide.
"Why is it so large? Looks like a box with a helmet on top."
....Or maybe I did. "It has to be that large since I'm trading aerodynamics as heavily as I am; it needs an over-abundance of power if I want it to fly."
It still wouldn't fly too high or fast, barely two hundred miles per hour if everything else went according to spec, but that wasn't terrible. The armor also had another function, another mode, because why shouldn't it?
I wasn't about to show that one off just yet. No sense opening myself up to all the squealing and noise as everyone went nuts over certain prospects. The thing would be expensive to make if I didn't have my printer, but with it, I could make one of these for everyone. Eventually. If I needed to.
I shouldn't, but such things would keep my friends and family safe, safer than just a bunch of watchers and cameras could make us. That was a good thing, right? It outweighed the idea of giving a bunch of us potentially lethal weapons, without even counting the armaments I'd be making for the suits... right?
No, I shouldn't. I could design all I wanted, but actually making the things crossed a line. A line I didn't want to cross. Not unless something happened; there would be time enough to complete a build then. Until then, Jill and her suit would be enough, surely.
I mean, it might not even happen, whatever it was. For all I knew, the people watching us would be enough, even in this chaotic world.
I found myself shoving the chair away from me, jumping up, and making Ricky jump back: "Right, time to test the first one."
"Right, let's go!" Ricky didn't even seem phased by his near miss, just ready to go.
By the time I'd taken two steps, everyone was gathering around, crowding me. "You all can go first, you know."
Jeeves already had the drone itself in hand, unplugged and ready to go. The controller for it was also done and on the table, and no one had snagged it first. Nice of them, really, they were giving me the maiden flight.
I snagged the thing and joined everyone, already outside somehow as if they'd ran out or teleported or something.
Just outside, Jeeves was already placing the drone down in the middle of the yard. Everyone else fanned out, keeping well away from it, which was for the best. I was going to stay near the open shed door just in case, so I couldn't really blame them.
I powered the controller up and noted the display. I'd use the auto stabilization feature provided.
It took off, straight up, and then just drifted off to the left without any input from me. I tapped the stick to bring it back, but then it drifted right...
Right, I was going to hit something unless I took it up higher.
Taking it higher was a mistake. I couldn't see it anymore, and all I had to go on now was the wildly shaking camera, which was showing how screwed I was in high definition; it was an amazing view of the neighborhood, but the drone had to be a mile up!
I hit the hover button, and the thing evened out, even though the winds up there had to be significant.
"I know that look," Ricky claimed, stepping forward. "Where is it?"
"It's fine. I got it hovering above us."
Ricky leaned over to look as everyone else decided it was safe to join in: "Then why the look of sheer panic?"
"It was more powerful than I thought it would be. Look at how high up it is! I only pressed the stick for a second."
Ricky looked up. "Yeah, it's about 500 feet up? Maybe a bit more, kinda hard to tell."
Surely it was more than that? My eyes were trash, but not that trash. Right?
Who was I kidding? I had trouble seeing across the street, even with my stupid coke bottles on my face.
I could still fly this thing, of course, using the screen.
That turned out to be a mistake; forward had the thing moving more left and forward.
"Ah, the wind is North at that height. move your thumb about two degrees over. Yeah, right there, it'll compensate."
Crash knew what he was talking about; that slight shift and the drone was flying straight.
"What's the range?"
"About five miles. We can cover this entire town if we want; it's not that big."
"Does it have a warning light? Some way of indicating it's at maximum range or close?"
"It does. This little orange light here. It'll light up at five hundred yards away from the maximum control range.
I eased off because five hundred yards didn't sound like nearly enough space to stop.
The view was fantastic, and I hit hover again as everyone crowded around. It was time to pass the controller around so everyone could see it.
The assorted gasps and oohs and ahs were all worth it.
A little fun, but I was done with it now. This would be much better when I stuck a series of scripts in it, or maybe even a form of virtual assistant.
I'd simply be able to tell the drone where to go with either commands or maybe even voice? Sure.
Time to hand it off to Crash. "Alright, you guys can try yours now."
"Right, we better hurry, it's going to get dark."
There wasn't going to be any order this time - they were going to drive theirs all at once, it seemed.
Which was cool; it would be sheer chaos. Crashes wouldn't be a problem; I could scan broken drones as easily as any other; the computer would compensate.
Crash was focusing on piloting, but he gave me a smile anyway as everyone made their chosen drones take off together.
I'd been right; I shouldn't have come to school today. As soon as I had, Sam had took me aside, and now we were 'chatting'. I'd briefly wondered why we couldn't chat before this, since we'd walked to school, but her first sentence had clenched it.
The school was noisy after all, and with her whispering, there was no way even our friends would overhear us by chance from this little nook under the stairs. We could also see anyone coming close enough to hear us, which was just perfect to be told what I didn't want to hear.
"You're sure?"
"You can look."
Right, five minutes and google would confirm what Sam was telling me. Confirm that my stupid body seemed to like guys. Or at least, liked the smell of guys; it was apparently a biological imperative from the days when we lived in caves and huddled around fires. Just the thought of... snuggling? sidling up to? Someone like Ricky or Ralph... no, bad thoughts! Bad thoughts!
"I need to purge my mind with fire."
Sam gave me a deadpan look, then a small smile. "Chocolate."
Chocolate would probably help. Chocolate always seemed to help. Stupid body.
"Does everyone feel like this? Do you feel like this?"
Sam shook her head. Figures, I'd be the weird one. Again.
"Varies." Sam explained a bit louder, and wiggled her hand at me.
I wasn't ready to say anything out loud just yet. "So, it comes and goes? Or it's different for everyone."
"Yes. Hormones." Sam whispered at me. Then, of course, the bell rang, and we needed to get to class.
I was glad that Jeanette had stayed a few steps away and so probably hadn't heard anything. She fell in behind me as we stepped around the stairs, joining the throng. Sam waved as she left me to the tender mercies of the school, her smile seemingly fixed in place.
"Did you hear any of that?" Morbid curiosity compelled my voice.
Jeanette answered instantly. "Yes. I heard some of what you discussed, and can infer the meaning of the rest with the clues provided. However, you should not worry. I hold your privacy paramount in my thoughts, second only to your safety, as all good maids should."
Well, that was something. So only Jeanette and Sam knew. And all my other bots. And Maggie, who I'd come to asking about the smell as well, thinking maybe she might know. Maggie, who loved to gossip as much as anyone.
I was doomed.
No, I couldn't think that way; the entire school didn't know about Sam's favorite pajamas or what her guilty pleasure movie was, so there was a chance they wouldn't find out my secret shame. Still, if this was a problem for me, even if I was unusual, then surely other girls had this issue? How did they deal with it? Just ignore it? Was it a hormone thing or a scent thing? If it was hormones, it would be easier to formulate a blocker for it; I didn't really want to shut off my nose just to make it stop.
"Mistress."
Right, shop thinking was later, school was now. It was okay; I could deal with this.
I'd be talking more with Sam; how could she just dump this on me right at the start of the school day?!? It was criminal, was what it was. And after I let her crash my drone all last night!
True, Ricky had done most of the crashing, but Sam had gotten her licks in; that little one was never going to be the same... at least until I rebuilt it. Right, later.
I slipped into the classroom and tried very hard not to smell anything - or anyone. Nope, no smells here, thank you traitorous nose. Just the smell of paper and glue and wood from somewhere. Pencil shavings? A broken desk? It didn't matter; the smell didn't exist. None of them did.
Mr. Welsh walked in right after I got through the door, and I ducked into my seat. Jeanette took her usual spot in the back of the class and started in on her statue impression.
Ricky leaned over. "You okay? You look a little... I don't know, off."
I pointed back at my maid, the perfect excuse: "She isn't moving, so I must be fine."
Ralph was also giving me a once-over. He caught me looking and shrugged.
Nice to know my electrical activity was normal.
Mr. Welsh gave us all a stare, and we shut up so he could take roll call.
When he put his class book down, I opened my notebook. It should be okay if I was careful; I'd been getting better about this. I didn't need notes in this class anymore, and I'd be driving myself more crazy than normal today if I didn't at least design something.
So I'd redesign the drone that Sam had smashed into our tree last night. Preferably into something with better lights. The normal running lights were fine to see it by, but they were woeful at giving enough visibility to fly at night through the camera.
Maybe I could expand the case a bit? I could add something better than a simple light if I did. After all, even a rudimentary sonar would be more effective than the best lighting I could power inside the frame. then again, the draw from sonar might be too much too....
Right, just focus on the simple stuff for now. the physics of flight and the fuselage would be fine to speculate about and wouldn't mess me up for the day. I could control this.
Still, the sonar did haunt me a little. A sketch of a basic one shouldn't be too hard, and after that, I could just fine tune the size versus the range later. More of a proof of concept, really, nothing special at all.
Mr. Welsh stopped writing, and stopped droning. tuning him out was getting far too easy; even if he didn't care anymore about it. Class was nearly over, and everyone was packing up. I'd come close, but I hadn't lost it. Another to add to my growing list of wins, and I'd take it.
Algebra was next, and it was a bit better. Mainly because I could go ahead and go as far ahead as I wanted. Right now I was well past the basics, and the textbook. I wish the teachers would just break down and let me use my laptop or phone in class to study with; I'd already be on advanced trigonometry or something. Something collegiate level or past, but still something was better than nothing. Maybe I could calculate the distances of the planets for a lark.
Crap, I already did it in my head. Well, maybe I could do something else equally mundane. I'm sure with enough distance involved, I'd actually have to use paper to write it out.
Jeanette moved from behind me to the front, just in time to intercept a student even more distracted than I was. She was a blonde, a bit larger than I was, dressed in faded jeans and a pink sweater. I knew her, vaguely, mainly from the faint freckles dotting her nose; Cynthia. Cynthia... something. Something with an H.
She bounced off Jeanette with an eep, and almost lost the books she had clutched tightly in front of her. Jeanette reached out to steady her, and any potential crisis was averted.
As small as she was, Cynthia was bigger than me now; if we had collided with us both distracted, she'd have bowled me over easily.
Still, she got herself together and actually bowed slightly: "Sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going."
No, she wasn't bowing; she was hunching in. Presenting a smaller target. "It's fine, neither was I. Sorry about my part in this."
I moved around her, taking advantage of the crowd; they always moved away from a potential fight. Well, those that didn't actually crowd closer to see it. Sorry people, no fight today.
I ducked into class and Jeanette was right on my heels, her good deed for the day done. Sam was giving me a forlorn look, so I tapped Jeanette and pointed. She nodded and walked over, delivering my notebook. My notes were pretty well written if I did say so myself, and could undoubtedly help those less fortunate than myself.
Sam wasted no time opening it and finding the page she wanted - seemed her homework wasn't done? For shame! Well, whatever. She should have just asked me for help last night; too much time spent piloting drones, not that I could blame her.
Flying things was fun; even more so in person. I really needed to get an actual pilot's license; I was allowed to cheat a bit because of my mutation, at least the once. I couldn't expect that would hold forever.
Trying to play by the rules felt like it just kept getting harder. It probably wasn't, but telling myself no was... unpleasant.
Right now, the distance from Earth to Alpha Centauri was a bit of twenty-five trillion miles. I couldn't be absolutely certain since it changed by the second, but that was close enough. Four point six-seven light years - or one hundred and forty-eight years to reach with standard propulsion systems. Some of the ones I knew were out there could cut that to forty years, potentially.
I was pretty sure I could cut it to five right now.
Ricky was giving me a look. Not the look, but a warning look. He was much easier to read than Sam was. Even though right now, Sam was anything but hard to read.
No weird scents. It was a bit weird that while my eyes were trash, my nose seemed to be pretty sensitive - at least for a human nose. It wasn't like I could smell road kill from here or track people by scent or something.
At least I hoped not; that would not be a fun mutational expression.
I could simulate it, though, if I wanted. A form of robotic or cybernetic nose was easy enough; the only issue would be translation software in order to properly identify one scent from another. I could brute force that; it would be simple enough. Scan the scent and then match it to the substance to create a database; then I could upload everything to all my bots and....
And Ricky was tapping the side of his head. Jeanette hadn't moved just yet, but it was only a matter of time before she did. I put those thoughts carefully away and turned the page I'd just been messily scribbling the proper equations on.
Jeanette caught me looking at her and smiled.
Mr. Mullins was already halfway through the class, and like the others, he seemed pretty determined to ignore me. Fine by me really; I just wish I could get a bit more warning from them; I knew my teachers knew what it looked like when I went all mad-science. Some of them, anyway.
Whatever. Safe numbers, so even if Mr. Mullins were to check me, I'd be doing math. He didn't though; just droned over the same old tired equations he'd written on the board.
My notes came back just as we were about to leave. Our homework was already handed in, but Mr. Mullins was nice enough to sometimes let us hand in homework as class ended rather than before it started. A small mercy for us.
Sam handed hers in as soon as the bell rang, and shot out of the class as if she had somewhere to be. She didn't, though? At least not that I knew, and she'd tell me if so, right?
No, it was fine. She probably just had to go to the bathroom or something. Luckily, even with all the coffee, I was fine on that respect for now.
I waited until everyone else had left before getting up; it was easier that way.
Unfortunately, geography was even more boring than algebra or physics were; it was just blind rote learning of places and names around the country or the world. This week was supposed to be Romania of all places, for reasons only known to Mrs. Carson.
This one I'd have to pay attention in, because even though I'd read the book and my memory was pretty good, there were no underlying principles to be used here. It was all dry place names and terrain.
I took my seat, and Jeanette took her usual place. All was normal - even Pam glaring at me was normal now. I never did get to ask her what her problem was since she ran every time I got close enough. It was for the best I wasn't dealing with P.E.. Pam and a few others still didn't like my presence in there, or even in the female bathrooms.
They'd been overruled, of course. I tested as female through any method one could use, so there was no reason to deny me. For the best really, since the idea of using the same bathroom Monty or Flash used did not thrill me; Pam could hate me all she wanted, but she was unlikely to knock me out with a single punch. Those two? Very much could.
My days of being tough were over. At least, without some form of armor - that was what Jeanette was for. Well, one of many things that Jeanette was for.
Not ideal, but I had to do what I had to do. I could design body armor, but it would be obvious and rather heavy. Once I got the power armor down I could go back and work on some other things. I could also work on a personal force field, but power was a problem.
I needed to work my way up on the power supply problem; I didn't see any way to make a small form fusion or fission core, and my battery technology was non-existent at the moment.
So much work to do, so little time. I'd love to say that science never stops, but these were more engineering problems than anything else.
The desire to just... let go and automate it all, to go full on infrastructure so that I could simply type an order into my computer and see an item or invention machined out in a day or even less was strong.
It would involve holing up in my lab for a few weeks to a month, though, and so my parents would never go for it. It would also be an escalation, a step I wasn't sure I'd be able to take back once I took it.
I wanted to though. I wanted to just leave now and do it so bad I could taste it on my tongue. Did mutants have issues with impulse control, or was it just me? I'd have to ask Ricky; his opinion would at least give me another data point.
I wrote down a reminder and stuffed it in my coat. Sure it slowed my note taking down, but it wasn't like Mrs. Carson was going all that fast.
The bell signaled the end of class and lunch, and I went back over my notes; I'd gotten all the place names on there, and the notable things each place was supposedly known for. Not that Romania was known for much. Well, at least here; I'm sure Romanians knew all their lore after all. We Americans didn't really need to.
The chief export of Romania was electrical devices. At least, according to the book. So... that seemed like a good place to go if I wanted to manufacture some things.
I wasn't hungry, but I could use the break. "Jeanette, how cold is it now?"
"The current temperature indoors is seventy-three degrees. The temperature outside is forty-four degrees, according to the best information I possess."
At least she figured it out and corrected herself. Fourty-four was too cold. "I guess we need to head to the cafeteria then. Outside is too cold."
Even with my coat, even with my sweater, it'd be freezing outside.
"I see. Let us depart then."
Right, getting up was a thing, and it took a little more effort now than earlier. I hadn't even lost myself, and my body felt heavier than this morning. Which was cheating, body! Come on, work with me here!
It didn't get any better, but didn't get any worse, and my steps were steady enough. Jeanette stayed behind me and Ricky fell in beside as soon as I exited the classroom.
"I saw you look my way; what was it?"
"Do you have a problem with impulse control? Ever want to just do something you know or suspect is a bad idea?"
That was clear and utter confusion. "No, I don't think so. I have impulses occasionally, like 'I want a snickers right now' or 'I want to go here', but nothing I suspect is bad. I have bad thoughts, but I can ditch those fine. Are you saying you do?"
Yeah, deny that one: "I admit nothing, but it occurred to me that mutants might have impulse control problems, and that might be why I have to fight so hard to avoid designing and making things."
The light dawned on my friends' face. "Oh, you meant that. No, I think devisors are the only ones who have that sort of problem; all the ones I know of seem to be compelled to build, sooner or later. You might be onto something, though, cause that might partly explain how powered villains and criminals happen."
Hmm, maybe there was something to the idea after all. There might be enough for a study; should I ever feel the need - I wasn't really a fan of the soft sciences. At least not for myself; reading a study performed by someone else and actually creating the study myself were two different things.
The cafeteria was packed, which wasn't great. Yet it was also warm, so it was a trade off. The farthest table at the far side had enough space for us at a glance, but there were some people there. People we would likely disturb.
It was their table first, and according to the unwritten rules of the school, just sitting down was a no-no and a crime.
We'd have to ask first.
"Excuse me, are these seats taken?"
The guys I was addressing looked up or around at us. I knew them; all four were members of the vaunted computer club. All four were on the smaller side, with one being a little pudgy. None of them exercised willingly I was sure, and in P.E. class they were picked last routinely. Not that I could judge, because without my own pass, I'd be getting picked last every single time.
I couldn't read them. Before, my relationship with these guys was good. At the very least, it was neutral, mainly because I didn't make any fun of them. Now I certainly had no room to judge; for all I knew these guys might have a condition similar to my own; it wasn't like I asked them or anything.
"Nah, we're it. You can all sit down here if you want," the guy said.
What was his name again? Andre, I think.
"Yeah, plenty of room for all of you," another one said; he had his back turned to us, but I knew him a bit more than the others. Neil, from just two streets over. He was a geek through and through, and he and Ian played one of the strategy games he liked together.
I'd tried it, and it was a good game, but it lacked complexity. I guess rock paper scissors was good enough for most people.
Quinton, that was his name. Right now, he was staring at Jeanette as she moved around the table.
The pudgy guy was Fred, of all the names to have. I sat down next to him since it was the nearest empty seat, and Ralph took my other side in a hurry.
"Too cold outside, huh?"
"I'm pretty cold -blooded anymore," I replied. Was Jeeves coming, or was Jeanette going to meet him at the door?
The latter it seemed, as she stomped off at a brisk walk, dodging others with a grace that one would expect from a dancer. She'd definitely improved her control recently; I wonder how?
Another thing to ask; I dug the paper scrap out of my pocket and wrote the question down.
Sam and Maggie came up and just plunked themselves down across from me, to the obvious discomfort of the guy next to Andre. I mean, he was trying to play it cool, but it was obvious to me he was failing - so it must be equally as obvious to everyone else.
Ricky came in next, breathless, and took the seat next to Ralph. "Thought we'd be outside."
"Too cold."
"It isn't that cold," he argued. Why he felt the urge to argue with me over it I didn't know, nor did I care to know. It WAS too cold, objectively.
"Not all of us are made of muscle," Ricky broke in.
They glared at each other for a bit.
"So, what's for lunch?" Maggie asked. I pretended not to see the start of her drool. She was more than happy to eat whatever Jeeves brought.
Exactly when my lunch had turned into an opportunity to feed all my friends, I didn't know. I was long past the point of no return now, though, since none of them even bothered packing a lunch anymore.
Still, a question demanded an answer: "I've got no idea. I didn't get so much as a glimpse this morning on the way out."
I hoped it was something light. I wasn't sure how my stomach felt about anything rich right now.
We waited with varying levels of patience; Ricky even tried to play it cool as his own stomach betrayed him with a growl (thankfully, my own wasn't that loud, certainly not enough for others to hear).
Finally, Jeanette came back, our picnic basket held in both her hands. She all but skipped through the room; everyone else was already sitting down and chowing down.
She set the basket down between Ralph and I, and began dragging things out. First, a tupperware container of... chicken? My sensitive nose caught a whiff; we'd had this before. Basil chicken, Jeeves had called it. The next container was a massive one, and contained a salad. A salad I'd not had before, but it looked good. "What are those?"
"Chickpeas," Jeanette answered immediately, already setting plates out. She served me first, of course, then went around the table counterclockwise.
The drink she'd given me was a manufactured one... a tea mixed with chocolate? That sounded pretty good.
"I knew about it, I'd even seen it, but to be this close to it is something else," Quinton stated.
Was that supposed to mean something? "What is something else? I'm afraid I don't follow."
Quinton favored me with a hand, waving it all in. "All this. The picnic lunch at school, for all of you. The rich food, made by a chef. A chef robot no less. You have to admit it's a little wild, even for here."
I did? "He's not a chef, he's a butler."
Quinton gave me a stare. "I've never seen anything like what you eat for lunch outside of a restaurant in the city. The real expensive places. I'm not judging, it's just a little... wild."
Jeanette had finished serving, and was now standing at her favorite spot, right behind me. She said nothing.
What could I say in the face of this? "Jeeves likes to cook."
"Been meaning to ask, if it's not too personal or anything. Can your robot even taste the food?"
Good question Andre, glad you asked! "Of course. It doesn't work exactly like ours since my androids need a way to categorize what they taste, and bad tastes aren't really bad to them in more than an academic level, but they can taste and smell just fine.
"Smell?"
"Well yeah, taste and smell are linked. You can taste smells after all. It's all linked to molecules in the air around us, and... no, wait. You didn't ask for all that. Sorry."
I was getting better.
"Uh, right. It's fine, I get it."
I heard the guy next to him whisper, something about biology. Quinton shook his head, ever so slightly. He was still smiling, so it shouldn't be anything bad about me. Right?
Ricky already had his face in the salad. "How is it?"
He didn't spit anything out at me, but the thumbs up said it all. I took a taste. It was good, zesty with a bit of tang mixed in. Jeeves had done it again, and this time without actually cooking anything. Well, other than the chicken. The first bite of it proved I had it before, and it tasted just as good as I remembered.
I wanted to fill my stomach until it exploded, but that wouldn't happen; there was only so much to go around, and Jeanette was watching.
The tea was truly excellent, and paired well with the salad somehow. I don't know, I wasn't a foodie or anything.
Conversation ceased as we ate; no one wanted to be caught with food left by the bell. I could see that some of my friends had things to say, but the magic food had ensorcelled their brains, just as it had mine.
I was done with plenty of time. I finished the tea off, and my plates vanished back into the basket. Another drink came out of it, the same stuff.
Interesting, that meant we probably had more at home. I wasn't really a tea fan, but this stuff was speaking to me at the moment.
"So, ready to work all the food off?"
Maggie looked like she was bursting to say something... but she didn't seem to want to lead with it. "Nah, I'm not very psyched for P.E. today."
"Volleyball," Sam said.
"Right, it's just more volleyball. We had that last week! We need to do something different!"
"Couldn't agree more," The guy next to Andre muttered, then looked shocked he'd said anything.
Not sure why, most of us agreed with him. "Right! maybe we should suggest something to the Coach! Something like... wiffle ball or table tennis!"
Ricky, what? indoor wiffle ball so soon? We didn't usually go for that until another month into winter.
Table tennis was cool; I could maybe do that. It wasn't like I had any special issues there, and it was only table tennis. Even Ralph would find it hard to go all 'over-competing mutant' at table tennis. Even golf could be scammed, but table tennis? You hit the ball too hard, you lose outright.
It was something anyway. Something to look forward to maybe, for the second half of the day. You know, before the real fun started.
The drone was coming along nicely. It looked something like a cross between a shark and a helicopter, with some strange angles mixed in.
Something Crash had added to this version, and I knew what it was. Stealth technology, or the basics of it.
He hadn't added a cloaking device or anything, but just making the device harder to target by conventional sensor systems from range was something, and for a device smaller than say, a large dog, that was a pretty good addition.
I wasn't so sure about the other additions that were adding to the size. After all, a weapons bay? We didn't really need a weapons bay, just eyes and ears. I was pretty sure the sheriff would have a word or two to say to both Crash and myself (which was unfair, cause I certainly didn't do this) if he found out.
Of course, we'd just have to make sure he didn't find out.
We didn't even have weapons to fit the bay he'd made. Unless there was something he hadn't told me yet. I gave him my best Mom stare.
He just shrugged. "It's just a concept. The one you wanted done is over there."
I couldn't be mad. "It's excellent work, but we don't need something like that."
Do we? We didn't. Right? No one was attacking us, no one had even tried. We should be fine.
The drone I'd been pointed to was a normal one, a take off the commercial one I'd liked yesterday with a few improvements designed in, and it would be our eyes and ears around the neighborhood.
The ears part was something I was especially proud of; two small shotgun mics with a large pick up range with a small ai governing them, in order to throw away noises we didn't want to hear and pick up conversations or other interesting activity. The cameras were also impressive, but they had nothing on that improvement, which could pick up a squirrel chirp from a good fifty yards away. The tech wasn't even major really, it was all off the shelf.
Well, except for the smart system. It wasn't true AI as others understood the term, but it was good enough for a little spy. And the drone itself was small enough that I didn't need to file a flight plan for it - assuming I didn't take it up too high.
I wouldn't be doing that, of course.
The best part is, with a simple switch, the craft could fly itself; staying close and avoiding obstacles until its battery ran out. The battery in question was a bit more effective than the one the original drone had of course, because fifteen minutes just wasn't good enough for eyes in the sky.
I wasn't sure the hour I managed would do, but it was the best I could do right now. It wasn't like I could put a fusion reactor into something so small!
It'd need to be at least car sized for that.
No, bad thoughts! I should not attempt to corner the self-driving car market! Though science fiction had promised humanity flying cars. Flying cars would be easy. Something to consider.
Someone knocked on the lab door; it was probably my friends. Maybe it was Mom coming to check on me. I did sort of come straight here without stepping foot inside the house first.
No, it was Sam. Who promptly frowned as I answered the door.
"Jeanette?"
What did Sam want Jeanette for? "Getting coffee. Why, you want to talk to her?"
Maggie was behind Sam, her own eyebrow raised, and the two R's were just making their way into the back yard.
"Jeeves?"
I stepped aside to let them all through. "I don't know, exactly. I think he's in the kitchen working on something. Crash is here, if you want?"
Not sure why she wanted my bots; was there a problem?
Sam came in, the others spilling in behind her. "You shouldn't," she got out, before Maggie interrupted.
"You shouldn't answer the door like that. There could be someone... bad on the other side of it."
Oh. "That? Come on, surely not. I've got the government and MCO both watching me."
Ralph muttered something I didn't catch over Maggie bellowing out: "It can still happen! Bad things happen every day!"
I mean, surely not... no matter how that inner voice of mine that screamed I wasn't safe enough, and my home wasn't secure enough, and I should correct that. It was true that bad things happened, but nothing bad had happened here.
Well, unless last year counted. I didn't really count it, because it was a crisis averted.
Then again... This was probably why Jeanette insisted on answering the door. "I guess you're right. I am known now, after all. It wouldn't be too out of the question to have someone leak the fact that I exist."
"Right, right!" Maggie agreed in a rush. "We know this place is more secure than you let on, but then you just open the door!"
Crash spoke up before Maggie could get going, coming around from giving his own drone final tweaks.
"It's alright, we knew who it was. The cameras do work, after all."
"You can't rely on cameras in a world where people can turn invisible."
"Fair point," Crash admitted, then dropped the casual bomb. "Which is why we don't. There are some other odds and ends around here."
Now I was curious. I knew I had a few extras, but what did Crash have? "I thought you only did vehicles?"
Crash shook his head. "When I have help, I can do other things. And we all help each other here."
That was true. Should I be worried? No, I wouldn't. Not yet anyway; initiative was a good thing in artificial intelligence!
"I've brought coffee," Jeanette's muffled voice came from outside. No wonder really, since Ricky was still blocking the open door for some reason.
At least Sam seemed mollified for now. "Come in. Just push Ricky out of the way if he won't move."
"Hey, hey, I'm moving, I'm moving," my friend objected, already out of the way and letting Jeanette enter with her full service. My little lab really was crowded with everyone in it. It was fine though; they would play games, and I would do science.
Speaking of. "Forgot to ask. Did you check the arm?"
Crash nodded. "I did, and I found the problem right where you said it'd be. everything works perfectly now."
Great, we could wake Jill up then. Well, not wake her up, but activate her body. I needed a better term for it.
It wouldn't even take that long; which meant I should probably call the sheriff or something. Or talk to my Mom, and let her do it.
"Right, I need to go talk to my Mom. I'll be right back. If you want, that drone there is ready to fly, or if not, go ahead and fire up the console and play a game or two. I shouldn't be long."
Jeanette followed me out. That was fine; Crash was enough by himself to keep my friends out of any trouble they could get into. Hopefully.
The walk through the yard felt longer; this was not going to be a good time for me.
The kitchen was a little dim without the lights on, in that funny space between full sun and full dark. There was still enough to make out Jeeves slaving over a hot stove of course, and whatever he was making smelled wonderful.
Mom was in the living room, and she stood up as she spotted me, putting her needlework down. "So, what brings my darling daughter here, to her own home, a mere hour after she was due to arrive home from school?"
I winced. Yeah, she wasn't going to make this easy on me. Still, I had to object: "It's not been that long. A half-hour at most. I wanted to get straight to work, and I thought Jeanette would let you know where I was when she came in to get coffee."
"She did," Mom responded, very calmly. "But I'd have rather heard it from you. If you can't be bothered to do it personally, then call or text. Now, what brings you? You didn't walk in here to start this conversation."
Right, this wasn't going to get any easier. "I want you to call the sheriff for me?"
She crooked an eyebrow. "The new one you're making?"
How did she know about that? I mean, I hadn't been hiding it, but she hadn't asked, so I hadn't mentioned it.
Now wasn't the time to worry about who might be reporting on me, even if it was probably Ian. "Yes. I want to do the right thing and donate her to the cops. She can learn how to do all the things cops do, and then be present in case something comes up that you need an... enhanced cop for."
I could see the wheels in Mom's head turn; she was thinking about last year."
"She can also keep me appraised of the law, so I won't break any. Better than Shecky."
Shecky was... weird. He knew the law, but if an android could be a sleazeball, he was a sleazeball. Somehow.
"That's a good idea," Mom replied, taking her customary thinking pose. "Did you ask her?"
What did she take me for? "Of course. I asked her four days ago, and she was fine with it."
"Alright, I'll call them and see what they say. But Min... this is the last one. No more, alright? Not without permission."
Yeah, I'd been expecting that. It made me wonder briefly what she'd have said if I'd just activated Jill without saying anything, but I dumped that thought quickly. "I got it. No more."
I didn't need any more anyway. Not until I was eighteen and ready to move out of the house or something.
"I won't, I'll ask you first. And just to be sure here, for the record, I did ask you about Jill, and you said it was fine."
"That's right, you did. I'm just making sure we understand each other. Jill is the last, unless I or your father say otherwise."
She wasn't even saying she wouldn't allow it, just that she wanted that say. I could live with that. This whole conversation had gone a bit easier than I expected.
"Alright. I'm going to go activate her then. You get to handle the Sheriff."
Mom hit me with a lopsided grin. "Sure. You know if he says no, it'll be up to you to explain things to your creation, right?"
I gave her a shrug as I walked out. "Worst comes to worst, she can become a private investigator. I think we've got an old trench coat around here."
I could hear, just before the door was shut, my Mom say "Afternoon, sheriff Myles. I've got something I need to discuss...."
Heh. Go Mom.
Sam was outside, flying the drone, with Maggie leaning on her to look over her shoulder at the screen the controls now had to offer a view. The idea of using a phone for that was... silly. Silly and a potential security risk. I gave them both a wave and stayed clear; Sam was piloting the little craft well enough, but she was keeping it low, and I wasn't wearing a hard hat.
I tried to banish the thought of Jill, PI, as I made my way back into the lab. It was harder than expected.
Everyone else was playing "Accel", the racing game. It wasn't bad, but I felt like it was missing a bit compared to earlier titles. It felt a bit stripped down.
Crash was waiting. He looked up as I approached. "Final checks, then we do it."
He nodded in response, clearly expecting that. There were always final checks. I'd do final checks on everything, then more final checks, and if anything turned up off, even more final checks. The trust but verify of Science!
I should patent that or something. Words to live by, volume one: Check everything until you're sick of it, then check it again. I had the feeling that not enough people lived by that in our time.
Jeanette brought my coffee. Something flavored with caramel, and it tasted pretty good. It wasn't as good as just super strong coffee, of course, but this had its own charm. The shortbread cookies were shortbread cookies, and therefore delicious enough. I only had a few though; any more and I'd get the whole 'you'll spoil your dinner' speech by my wonderful android maid.
Ricky was winning the game; I had half an eye on it while the other was on the flow of numbers across the screen.
Nothing jumped out at me, and all assessments were in the green.
Just as I was about to give Crash the go ahead. a knock sounded on the door.
As I'd been told, I stayed put and let Jeanette answer the door. Instead of Sam and Maggie, however, the towering form of chief Myles was at the door. The poor man had to lean in to enter.
"Good afternoon, chief Myles."
"Good evening, miss Campbell," he corrected gently with a faint frown.
Mom, Sam, and Maggie entered behind him, almost unnoticed in the man's shadow.
The place was getting pretty crowded.
"So, what's this I hear about some equipment you wish to donate to the Paris police force?"
That... was not right. "I want to see if you'll accept a person into the police force, not donate some equipment. Jill isn't a fridge or something. I guess the other stuff counts as equipment, but...."
Sheriff Myles waved me off. "We talked about this before. Anyone you want me to accept will have to go through the academy training."
That wasn't going to be a problem. Jill was the most advanced android I'd made yet, and her body was tougher as well. "She can manage that. You'll see."
I turned and started the sequence.
"You'll listen to her in matters of law?"
The process was going smoothly, and Jill would be up in seconds. "Yes, of course. I said I would. It's not like I don't listen to you or anyone else, is it?"
A bit annoying. More than a bit annoying.
The man sighed. "No, you're right. You do listen."
Jill's eyes opened. They were a brilliant green, and if you looked close, you could just barely see the facets within. Most people wouldn't be able to do that, of course, not while she was moving. She focused on me and smiled.
I leaned back as she sat up smoothly, looking around at everything and shaking out her long walnut brown hair. It seemed like her sub-routines were working fine. Some of those were new since she had to appear normal in order to fool criminals for stakeouts or stings.
"Good evening, my creator. It is wonderful to see you all with eyes; the cameras connected to your mainframe lack fidelity."
"Good evening Jill. How is it? Can you detect any problems?"
My newest android made a show of flexing. "All is well; I can detect no instabilities or problems."
She quickly brought those arms down and braced, then hopped up.
She was in front of the Sheriff before I'd fully registered the movement. It was a good thing we'd thrown clothes on her, even if they were a set of loose pajamas.
"Good afternoon Chief! Jill Campbell, reporting for duty. Or class. Can I go now?"
"It's a little late for class tonight. But if you're willing to take a few tests, I can ensure you get in on the next class. Assuming you pass, of course. And it's Sheriff Myles, not 'chief'."
Jill saluted, which I wasn't sure you should do. "Roger that Chief! I'll pass any test you give me. Please put me to work; you won't be disappointed."
It was all too fast. She just got up! "You want to go now, Jilll?"
"I do, Creator. The more quickly I do all that is expected of me, the more quickly I can be of use. I shall return, of course, as I must stay here. At least until I get a place of my own."
Right, I hadn't put all the infrastructure she needed together yet, so she'd need to come back here.
"We can start the other tests now, if you'd like. The academy will still have to wait until the next class starts, however. And it's sheriff, not 'chief'."
"Roger that Chief!" Jill said, saluting again with an even wider smile.
Sheriff Myles raised an eyebrow at her, and she kept it up.
He turned to me. I shrugged; all my bots had their little quirks. It seemed like Jill had already found hers.
Sheriff Myles sighed again.
"Fine, whatever. Let's go."
The Sheriff turned, and Jill followed him out, throwing jaunty waves at everyone on her way out.
A little sudden, but I'd see her again tonight, and I could ask her what she thought of things again.
I caught myself staring at Jeanette; or rather, her thumbs up sign held low and behind her back, just for me. She had no issues with what was going on, and being a big sister who could effectively read her siblings' minds, that made me feel a bit better about things.
I mean, she didn't actually read minds; they merely communicated. It was totally by permission only, but the point stood. I didn't make weird creeper bots or anything.
Mom was still here - she made her own way to the door. "Enjoy yourselves, kids. See you at dinner, Min."
I knew an order when I heard one, and so did Jeanette. She even stiffened a little taking it in. A traitor in our midst!
"Yes Mom."
Speaking of traitors, where was Ian? I just knew he had something to do with how much Mom knew about what I was doing. My bots were probably informing on me too, but they knew how to keep some secrets. I think. I should probably make sure of that, but at least some of them were already actively doing so. Crash was a good example; he kept making changes to my stuff, but they were all safety oriented, and he'd not said anything about the blueprints I'd shoved in the dark recesses of the mainframe under multiple code and puzzle locks.
Right, the work never stopped. Jill would need a sleep and charging station when she got home. I could join the races later.
......
I drove in silence. The creation, the hardware beside me, its' smile had lasted only until we reached the car. The thing had settled into the passenger side, putting a noticeable load on the shocks. Not that I could complain; I did the same.
It was not the first unnerving thing I'd seen, but the machine sitting next to me, eyes flashing at everything, taking it all in, had been acting like a person just a few minutes ago. A bubbly teenage girl - and then just stopped, all vibrant emotion falling from its' face as if it were rain off a wall or something.
For the second time tonight, I considered retiring like my predecessor. There was still time.
"Sheriff Myles."
A hint, a thrill of warning. Old instincts and reflexes coming to life. "Yes, Jill?"
"You intend to test my build tonight, don't you?"
"Not sure what you mean, Jill."
I did know, and the machine made it clear it knew that I did. "You mean to put me through stress and performance tests."
"I do." I wouldn't lie to it.
"Who will conduct these tests?" it asked. Politely.
"The same man who conducted the tests on Minerva Campbell. He is uniquely suited for checking your specifications, performance, and programming."
"Why my programming?"
I smothered my surprise that it asked such a question - and my surprise that I could feel how pleased the machine was about hearing who was to perform the tests. "We have to make sure you aren't planning to take over the Earth or kill all the humans."
The machine turned and favored me with a look; one that I was sure had to be universal to teenage girls the world over, and it was hard to bury that for a moment. "It's been tried before."
"I am aware," the machine responded. "I was built to stop such attempts, as they are against the law. I am, however, surprised that you would think such an outcome was possible, considering that if such was the intention of our series, we would likely have already completed it."
As if. "Arrogant little thing, aren't you? You shouldn't under-estimate us."
The answering smile certainly looked genuine, and the comeback sounded it. "So you say, meat bag."
......
Ugh. It was not a good morning. I could already feel it; my thoughts swirled sluggishly in my mind, and my body only barely responded to my commands.
I almost fell out of bed. Again. "Jeanette."
She was here. "Yes, Mistress." She slid my glasses gently over my face so I could see her.
"I don't think I can go in today."
Jeanette already had her hand pressed to my forehead, and she added her second to my wrist. "I believe you are correct. Shall I go see to your breakfast?"
I did not feel like eating. "Just toast, if anything. And tea, not coffee." Tea helped when you were sick, or so I was told. "Let Mom and Dad know, if they are home."
I couldn't remember which parent was supposed to be home today.
I hated this. I couldn't even get up, let alone do anything, and it sucked. Whatever, I couldn't even fight it today; time to just lay back and possibly sleep more. Somehow, I still felt tired. And cold, because of course I felt cold.
My laptop was... somewhere. I wasn't going to work; I just wanted to watch some movies or videos or something. Come to think of it, I hadn't overdone myself last night. I'd kept my thoughts in check, so why was I feeling like this now? I thought I was getting better!
Jeanette came back in, her silver service filled to the brim with a cup of tea, a small plate with two pieces of toast on it, and three different pill bottles, one of which I was sure was an over-the-counter vitamin, yet not the vitamin Jeanette had me taking daily.
"I suspect what you are thinking. No matter how well you do in controlling your thoughts, some days of lessened health will occur."
She set the service down on my desk and popped each bottle in turn. Then she turned to me, pills in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.
I knew how this argument was going to go, so I just took the pills and popped them in; the bottle was open by the time I reached for it. I took enough water to make sure I didn't taste the things because no matter what any person or pharmacy did, pills always tasted bitter or nasty.
Jeanette grabbed the bottle back, but set it on the nightstand, close enough that I could reach it myself if I sat up. Good enough.
Toast, huh? It looked like there was more on it than butter - and not much butter. But toast probably wouldn't upset anything. Jeanette pulled the bed tray out from behind my bed, which was apparently where she stored it now, and set it over my feet.
The she fluffed my pillows and pulled me up so I was halfway sitting. Which was useful since I didn't really feel like I could do that much myself.
The toast and tea were placed in reach. I took a sip; the tea was black but spiced with something different. Something I couldn't recognize, but it gave the liquid a little zing.
The toast also had some zing - just a little. My stomach seemed to like it, so I continued.
My laptop was placed in front of me, already on.
"Did Jill call?"
"She has not. I presume she will call at a more acceptable hour."
That was fair; it was only seven-ish. I had half expected she would call or come back since she had nowhere else to go, and so far, the only chair she could use to fast charge herself was here.
"Let me know when she does. Well, assuming she doesn't call me directly." My bots were spoiled for choice; they could call me directly on my cell, my parents on theirs, or call the house line. Why we still have a house line in today's day and age? Anyone's guess. I'd asked before and just gotten a blank stare back.
If my parents wanted to pay the extra money, that was their decision.
It was still weird to think that we had all the money we needed now. Or rather, I did.
"Jeanette, can I trouble you to get the functional drone from the lab?" Since I couldn't move at the moment, I could at least look around locally; maybe something here would be more interesting than cat videos or whatever else.
"Certainly. I shall return quickly. Do your best to ingest your toast."
Right, ingesting. I pulled my phone close. No messages or calls, of course, and I had none to make, but the internet access beckoned. No cats, but there were videos of tech demos and do-it-yourself stuff in my recommended; since my body hated me, it wouldn't mind me hating it back and engaging my brain a little.
Hmm, new central processing unit architecture... A bit too fine for the tools I had on hand, but I could work on it. Some new computer architecture would always be handy. New innovations in the fields of robotics, nothing near what I could do... oh! Some new software security innovations! That might be worth looking into.
Maybe I could convince Mom to let me go to one of these conventions, I could learn so much there. I'd probably have to wait until adulthood, though; Mom wasn't likely to let me go across the world alone.
Maybe I could convince my friends to go if family didn't want to? I had the money to pay for all of us. I had the money to pay for all of us family and friend alike - the amount of money still wasn't sinking in.
Maybe I'd buy a mansion in Los Angeles or something, walk around beverly hills in ripped up clothes and find call myself Elly May.
A chime sounded on my phone. It was a good chime; it was the sound of victory. Well, hopefully.
The chime was a notification from my computer that something had finished, and it was easy to guess what it was. The only thing I still had cooking was the tunneling unit under my lab, and that could only mean that it was finished.
Some careful tunneling under our property to get more space to work while dodging plumbing and other pipes routed through and whatever else. Even with just the footprint of the property we owned, and going down past our home's basement, there was a lot of space to be had... and it wasn't illegal to do; I'd checked.
So long as you took care not to kill any city infrastructure, it was possible to dig as much as you wanted. I wouldn't of course, because I didn't want everything to come crashing down, but that was what earthquake rated supports were for, right?
Getting the basics set up had taken weeks, but Crash had been working on it in between all his constant tweaking of my jet. Along with possibly anything else that moved on the property; I didn't ask. I guess I better check.
I was right on the notification, and there was a map I could bring up; the actual tunneling wasn't finished, just the first stage of it, where we went a few floors down under the lab itself.
A bit behind schedule, but that was fine; two floors well under the lab was actually more than enough space for now, and would be well protected from most forms of attack - not that I expected any attacks, but better safe than sorry. My bots still wanted more automated turrets and knockout gas. I should double check into how to set up bracing underground, though. A second check to make sure casa del Campbell didn't just slide into a hole I made would not go amiss.
I could start moving the lab proper underground, though, and use more of the above ground space as a hangar for stuff, like the jet. Or the new power armor I'd be making, starting today.
Well, tomorrow now. I didn't feel like doing anything today. As for Mom and Dad? Well, they knew what they had been getting into; they wouldn't suddenly question the appearance of stairs down and a nice new space that looked exactly like the one they set up for me. At least, I hoped they wouldn't.
I'd started all this well before Mom and I had our talk, and it had honestly slipped my mind more than once since then. There was a tiny, non-zero chance I would get grounded or worse, asked to fill it all back in. That would not be cool.
A knock on the door, and Jeanette walked in after a moment, bearing gifts. I could see Ian behind her, looking in. When he saw me still in bed, he waved and moved on, the little brat. I could be dying in here, for all he knew.
I kinda felt like I might be, if I were honest with myself. Not a lot of pain, but I was just so tired...
"You are working," Jeanette stated, a small amount of disapproval clear in her voice, and her eyes flicking from my phone to the half-eaten toast. Right.
"Only checking notifications. The mark 1 is done with its primary task."
"You are not calling your machine that," Jeanette accused.
"I'm willing to name it something better - as soon as someone comes up with one." I sucked at naming things, and everyone knew it. Even worse, they didn't hesitate to tell me so. What was wrong with 'mark 1 drillmaster'? It was the master of drilling, and could do everything related to drilling holes! But no, for some reason that name was bad and not marketable.
Whatever.
Jeanette cleared space on the tray by holding the toast out in front of me and removing the plate. I dutifully bit into the toast and held it while she set everything up.
I let my phone go; the bed would hold it fine, and finished off the toast and tea. The food sat like lead in my stomach, but thankfully, it showed no hint of wanting to come back up.
My laptop was up, and my favorite video site was loaded when Jeanette straightened and stepped away. I gave her a bit of a stink-eye and headed for the movie streaming service instead. That video site would inevitably devolve into cute furry animals, and my entire day would be lost if that happened. Movies were safer, and if I needed, I could ignore one entirely.
Oh, there was a horror movie that screamed Saturday morning silliness just from the thumbnail provided. And it had a science fiction twist! I was totally watching this, brightly lit morning or not. Just as soon as I found my glasses.
A knock sounded on the door. It was probably Ian, and I should see what the little spore wanted. "Come in."
It was Dad. He came in and shut the door, leaning against it. "Hey. Came to check on you."
So he must be the one home today... or more home than Mom, at least. They tended to tag team, with one of them being more available than the other. "I feel awful, but no more awful than any other time I felt awful. I don't need to go to the hospital, at least."
Dad frowned, then pulled up a chair. "If you feel like that, you should tell me immediately."
He held a hand out, and I knew the drill. I put my forehead in it. "I told Jeanette to tell you. To tell the truth, I think getting down the stairs right now would be rough."
I was lucky I hadn't needed to pee just yet; there was no way at all I could get up without help. I wasn't going to say it outright though.
Dad pulled his hand away. "No fever at least. What's wrong exactly?"
I knew it was coming, but I still had to think a little - to plan what I intended to say. Dad wanted to know the particulars: "I feel bone tired. Like I've been at practice all day, and we did scrimmages after running. everything takes effort, and my muscles feel out of energy."
Dad only nodded. "Alright. I'll be home today, so if you need anything from me, tell me. Phone me if you have to, I'll have my cell on me. Go ahead and get some rest."
Without another word, he got up, placed the chair back under my desk, and left. Almost as if he were uncomfortable being here.
I kind of got it since my room did not look anything like my room had just a few months ago; my friends had helped me redecorate. There were a few hints here to where I wanted to go and what I wanted to do, if one knew where to look.
Gone were the trophies and football posters. when I got a chance, I'd be repainting the place again, which Dad would have to help me with. That wouldn't make him happy, I was sure.
Jeanette stepped forward, and poured some more tea. It steamed in the cup. "You didn't mention a few things to your father."
"I didn't," I admitted. She knew me so well, it was uncanny, even if I'd basically built her for exactly this. In body at least; but she took to it so well. "It'll be fine."
Dad didn't need to know how bad a shape my mind was in right now; everything was a fog - nice and slow. I mean, I'd experienced worse, but this was going to be a very not good, no fun day. He knew all the important parts.
"How is it outside?"
Jeanette answered immediately. "Partly cloudy with a current temperature of sixty-one degrees. A high of sixty-eight is expected, and if you were to step outside, you would see sun and brilliant skies."
Then it should be fine to open the window. "Open the window, please? You have the drone?"
Jeanette produced the small device, setting it down on the bed before striding around it (and me) to open my window.
A breeze hit my face as soon as the window slid up; bringing with it the slight smell of old leaves and something else. Something herbal? Like dried potpouri almost.
Jeanette sniffed delicately, picking up the scent as well. She turned and shrugged. "It seems the fading of our grass has some benefits."
That was the grass? It was an odd smell, but not an unpleasant one. "Right, we should grab a sample."
That grass was Jeeves's work, and when I'd tested it before, it seemed fine, but with it making a weird non-grass smell I'd better do it again.
"I shall do so. You should rest. I shall also inform your friends of your condition, with your permission."
Ah, she wanted to use my phone. "Sure, go ahead." I could use the laptop to control the drone just as easily as my phone, and if I fell asleep the thing might wake me up. Jeanette left me to my own devices, literally. I had no doubt that if I needed her, a shout would see her here.
A click, and then a few more, and the drone rose evenly above my bed; it was incredibly steady, even with me inputting commands with keys. There was an AI assisting me somewhere, or a smart system at the very least. Probably the system in the lab, but I wasn't going to ask or question it.
Not when the view was both humble and breathtaking; the sun was right where it should be, and it was so bright I could swear that I felt it, even as the slightly bitter wind cut across me again.
I knew it wasn't that cold, but my body decided to shiver anyway, and I took a moment to gather my blanket back around me. The drone hovered, waiting for me, the view of the sky panning down into one of our street.
I could see agent Sands car in front of our house, and just slightly down and on the other side, the car that could only belong to Mom's friend barely in view. I wonder how they'd take the news that I was staying home.
Whatever, I wasn't going to tell them.
Jeanette had called it; I could see the two R's walking side by side down the street toward my house in the distance. I could even see the glances they were giving each other; why hadn't I thought of it before?
My eyes were trash, but with some form of actual mechanical or digital help behind them, I could see much farther. Of course, the cost would be looking like a dope, but it might be worth it? I wrote a note to myself, then panned the drone left. There was no need to buzz my friends since Jeanette would be informing them of my illness soon enough.
Some cars, some other kids walking toward school... and another car that seemed out of place, all the way down at the end of the street. A car I didn't recognize at all among those of the neighborhood, and while my memory certainly wasn't complete, it was pretty good.
The drone could really see things quite far. Had anyone else noticed? Was I simply being too suspicious? I probably was.
The microphone (this one had a microphone! An improvement from the model it was based after) picked up the footsteps on the porch and the knock. I hit the up arrow; there was no need to listen to that conversation.
A hundred feet up, I could see everything, from one end of the town to the other. I could even see the junkyard in the distance, right on the outskirts.
All that wonderful metal, just rusting away... the plastic I could probably repurpose somehow, even before my long-term plans came to fruition... maybe I should buy it? I made another note.
This was relaxing, just watching this. Almost like the world wasn't passing me by right now as my stupid body betrayed me again. This drone could even follow the birds as they flew around - I typed the command to give the camera free reign, and it started following the motions all on its own.
Well, it did prove the point that I was getting assistance from artificial intelligence.
It was a relief, honestly, that I didn't need to keep piloting it. I could just lean back and relax and watch, and when the battery got low, the device would simply reverse course and pilot itself back where it came from, like it was supposed to.
Even if it didn't, and it crashed? I could just print another one, so long as my printer had power. Crash would put it together, like he had this one. He liked building things that moved.
Huh, was that a hawk, gliding around? It was too far away for even the camera to make out, but the camera had a zoom... which was too far away from me to mess with now. So tired....
A clatter; what was that? Oh, the drone. It had fallen off the bed, back towards the window. The sun was up, and the day truly started. I stretched out, fully releasing the huddle in my blankets. The breeze from the window was still cold, though the scent was gone.
I still felt far too tired and worn out, but I had a little more energy. Which was a good thing, because now I needed to take my apparently long delayed trip to the bathroom.
If only the room would stop spinning. Right, that was what I had a maid for: "Jeanette!"
My door was solid, but my android would hear me through it... and right on cue, I could hear her walking up the stairs. From the sound of things, she wasn't in a rush.
I was at least sitting up by the time my android arrived, and she immediately took an arm and wrapped herself around it. "Good afternoon, Mistress Min. Feeling somewhat better, I see."
So it was after twelve; good to know. "Good afternoon. I hope so. I certainly feel more like a water balloon must than this morning."
It was okay because Jeanette wouldn't judge, no matter what happened. Even if she had to wash my sheets - thankfully, she wouldn't today.
Well, not so far, the day was young.
Jeanette followed me in. "Is anyone here?"
Dad could have left for whatever reason, After all.
"Your father is still here, watching television downstairs with a rather large sandwich set before him. He insisted on making it himself."
Right, what dad called a 'dagwood'. A game must be either on the way or on. "Yeah, he does that sometimes." I managed to get everything off and away, and sit down.
"It is the first time your father has made such a foodstuff since my birth," Jeanette answered. "Your father usually asks Jeeves to make a lunch for him when he is home, and Jeeves complies."
Made sense. "What is Jeeves doing now, then?" I finished up, but needed help standing.
"Working on the perfect lunch for you," Jeanette answered. "I was informed it was a light soup and some fresh bread."
That sounded good actually, and while I didn't feel hungry, I should probably eat anyway. "I don't think I can make it downstairs just yet, even with your help."
My legs were still rubbery.
"Right, I can try it. In my room, of course."
"Of course," Jeanette replied, helping me again with a sort of detached air, as if this were a normal day. I really hoped days like this wouldn't become normal, no matter how frequent they were now.
She got me up and over to my bed again, but I was in no hurry to get back into it. Any exercise was better than none, so just sitting up and swinging my legs around was the play of the day. "Jeanette, can you check the drone for damage? It got some wonderful shots earlier, but I fell asleep on it."
"Certainly." She stepped around the bed to the far side and picked it up, putting it back on the bed. I craned my neck over; it looked fine to me.
"It seems operational, however its battery is at less than one percent. I shall take it with me and charge it."
"Works for me."
My android took the machine and left with a soft "I shall return promptly," and shut the door. I was left alone with my laptop; I shook it out with the track pad, and took a look.
No programs open, even though I'd left the drone piloting program on; the laptop ws in a perfect idle state, with nothing working in the background. Which was most suspicious.
Given the current state of malware, viruses, and cookies infesting all computer systems in this day and age, despite the best programs designed to combat them, even I should have at least some issues or glitches by now. It was nearly impossible to have a computer perform perfectly, given a little time on the internet.
Unless, of course, you had a bevy of artificial intelligence looking after you. The real question would be when they had the time for it? I kept my laptop off and locked when not in use. Well, most of the time. I had fallen asleep this time, after all.
Whatever, it was only Hal. Was Hal a smart system or a true AI by this point? I hadn't really designed him to be a true AI like Jeeves or Jeanette, just a computerized assistant to help me manage some of the automated functions of my technology.
I didn't really like the idea; without a body, Hal wasn't like my other people; he was less limited in some ways and might lack the understanding needed to deal with people in ways that precluded the 'kill all humans' trope.
I had limited him in a few ways, such as making sure he couldn't spam copies of himself everywhere; I should really check those again and make sure, since he was now apparently anticipating me.
Just like that, I was back to thinking too hard. But I'd given Hal his name for a reason; it was a good reminder, and having a program go from simply chasing down the answers to your questions or taking verbal commands to digitally push a button to sweeping your computers for malware or shutting down programs without being asked was a flag I'd be stupid to ignore.
I'd handle it a bit later, when I wasn't feeling so terribly. I'd also not say anything, so as to keep the element of surprise. I leaned back into my pillows and settled my laptop where its name claimed it was supposed to be, and pulled up the web browser. Maybe I'd watch some tech demos.
Jeanette returned, her service back in hand; she opened my door while balancing the tray in one hand like a true champion, and set it down.
Then she broke out an apron, and layered it over both my blankets and myself. "You may stay as you are; I shall feed you."
That was... weird. "I think I can still hold a spoon, as bad as I am right now."
"That is immaterial. I can hold a spoon steady, and currently, that might prove challenging for you."
I held my hand out; she wasn't wrong, my normally steady hands were shaking, ever so lightly. It wasn't just a matter of being cold, either. I knew it, and Jeanette knew it.
This was a first, I think. I couldn't remember having the shakes before - except that first horrible week.
"I shall close the window," Jeanette told me, leaving the tray on my nightstand and crossing around the bed again.
I mourned the loss of fresh air briefly, but it was for the best. My laptop opened to the correct channel to show what college tech departments were up to.
Jeanette pulled up the chair; she could sit on the bed, but I was more or less in the way. Hmm, I should reinforce my bed, just in case. Later, and another note.
Jeanette looked at my notes as she leaned forward, spoon in her very steady hand, her eyes flashing. "I see you have remained somewhat active."
I knew she meant mentally, but that one stung a little. I pushed it down. "Can't help it, No matter how hard I try, it's impossible to just not think." The old 'think of nothing' schtick was stupid.
The soup was a still hot but not too hot tomato soup with some garlic, basil, onion, and something else in it. It was tasty; when I looked, I could see what appeared to be small bits of bread floating in the substance.
There was also more tea, and a small loaf of bread on the side with some kind of jam smeared on it. Blackberry? I loved blackberry!
Maybe later. This soup was good, but at this pace, It would take me five hours to finish off the bowl. My stomach definitely wanted me to finish off the bowl.
Jeanette read my mind. "There is no rush. What is that?"
She had a finger pointed at the video I had been about to click on. "Some innovations in the field of robotics. Nothing as ground-breaking as you, but something that might be cool anyway. I won't know until I see it.
"If I may recommend a site?" Jeanette asked, putting another spoon gently in my range. I nodded and glomped it.
She took a moment and typed the address one handed, the other just as steady as it grabbed more soup. It was times like this that I was a little jealous; all my androids could just do things like that at will, even Jeeves. I could barely walk and chew gum at the same time, a secret that would die with me.
I had memories of being able to do more, though; of being able to do two things at once without a problem. At least, so long as it was physical.
The site was one on... recent improvements on jet engine technology? It looked like my engine! Wait, was my engine being tested already? They had a production model?
I clicked. It was my engine, made by both an American company, which wasn't mentioned but just had to be Lockheed, and a German company I didn't know at all. They weren't showing everything, there were precious few hard numbers, but it was pretty obvious that it was my engine and calculations. I could even gauge output and fuel consumption.
They didn't know about the version powered by fusion yet, that was sitting in my lab. For the best, probably.
Even so, the scientists and engineers testing the engine for what was clearly a funding push of some kind were clearly happy and excited, all smiles and jokes. It was obviously a funding push because aside from the scientists and engineers in what was clearly an open testing hangar, there were a variety of uniformed people with lots of medals pinned on them looking on and mingling with suited people who seemed to scream money from here.
Even so, the video was public and seemed made for public consumption, and those important people were just hangers-on.
Even more so, it was my engine! People were discussing my design, and they were doing so positively! Fuel efficiency and output gains were being discussed, and there, how much weight they were saving compared to a more normal design!
"How did you find this?"
"We all scan for such things daily. I found this instance, and if you like, I can show the ones the others found," Jeanette answered.
"There are others?" I'd only released the engine so far. What else could there be?
Jeanette nodded. "There are others, though some of the media which references you and your inventions are... less clear than others."
Was that a smile? Was she punking me somehow?
Okay, I could stick a pin in this and come back. "Show me one."
Jeanette reached over and typed in an address... a paper? A specific article, from the Urban times. The urban times was the largest paper from the largest town near us; it might even be considered a city. Despite all that and their hundred year history, they were little more than a rag now.
Another victim of the times and constant movement to online content.
They had their own webpage now, and half their paper was on it every day (you had to pay for the other half). So right there in black and white and electrons was a story about the 'phantom jet' seen over local skies, complete with eyewitness accounts, some blurry pictures that could be anything, and an interview with tight lipped air traffic controllers.
The date was the day after I'd made my test flight, and I could see even from the blurry pictures that it was my jet. It could only be my jet; I'd been in the news and not even known.
"Ah, whoops. Was something like that even newsworthy?"
"It is a small town area, where little happens," Jeanette answered. "So any small excitement often gets reported. It is of no concern; the story was quickly forgotten, and few mention anything of it now."
Still, that was... a little... huh. I really needed to pay more attention, I guess. The more media exposure, the more bad elements might catch on to my existence. The more harassment I might face.
I felt something in me erode, just a bit, and slip away. It wasn't a nice feeling.
Jeanette's smile faltered, but her hands were just as steady as she typed another web address from memory.
This one was also a newspaper article, and it covered... recent advances in material science? Ah, metallurgy, and it was one of the composites I'd come up with to handle the heat generated by my jet engine; a new type of ceramic matrix composite that could be used not just for the fan blades, but some of the other parts as well.
Nickel alloys were still king for almost everything else, but I'd address that eventually.
The date for this article was three days ago, and the paper was one of those dry science articles complete with graphs - and the source was listed as 'S Green, esquire'. There was no direct mention of me, but it was clear this was my work. Well, mine and Crash's.
Once again, my androids had hidden something from me. A pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.
"All of these are proof of your positive impact on the world around you," Jeanette said. "As such, we all share and enjoy them."
That was surprisingly wholesome.
"Thank you, Jeanette. I feel like I can look at those cat videos now."
Jeanette's eyes sparkled. "I happen to like cats."
I never would have guessed; Jeanette was the sole reason my recommended was flooded with the things. At least, I was fairly sure she was.
I was tired again. I was going to fall asleep mid-lunch. Mid-galloping attack kitten, even. I wanted to, but I just couldn't keep my eyes open....
He knocked, trying to hide how nervous he was. The higher ups wouldn't wait much longer, not knowing what they knew. He'd even been warned - so now he was forced to ask after hours.
He'd waited until after the subject was in bed at least. Didn't need that can of worms opened.
Candice was still on shift, and she'd note his visit, but with him inside she likely wouldn't listen in, and that was going to be a good thing. Something he didn't want to hear would be said for sure. Something he didn't want to hear was always said in visits like this.
People had ended up in holes before after visits like this. Holes so deep no light showed at the bottom.
She answered, of course, looking somewhat frazzled. The knock had been a coded and she recognized it. "Mrs. Campbell."
"Mr. Douglas." Not cold, but no hint of the warmth normally between them... just in case those tapes were rolling after all.
"Might I come in?"
"Sure," She moved away from the door readily enough. "Can I get you something to drink?"
More code. Was he on duty? He wasn't, but this wasn't a social call. "A beer would be wonderful, please."
Her voice was calm, her steps silent. She was adding mood to the area, blanketing it in normalcy that the kids would pick up on if they woke. Just another late night visitor, nothing to worry about.
She'd always been good at that.
"Take a seat," She called softly. He could hear her rummaging around the fridge.
He wasn't worried. If it came to it, she'd come at him directly, not through a beer. He'd earned that, and so had she.
He unbuttoned his coat and sat, easing back with a sigh as she appeared again, a beer in either hand. She handed him his, and set hers down on a coaster on the coffee table.
The light bloomed from the lamp she turned on, almost ruining his vision for a second. She waited, however, and he managed to get his tense body under control.
"I've come to ask a few questions. You know the ones."
He could see it, how her fingers curled, trying to hold a cigarette that wasn't there, the sudden tension. "Yes I know the ones. Ask away."
The small notebook came out as a formality, and he clicked his pen. Notes would absolve many wrongs, especially if the tapes weren't rolling. "Your child's robots. How are they constructed?"
Start with the easy ones, lead up to the bad.
"Three-dimensional printer, for the most part. The parts are fabricated from one and seem to follow a template. The template also seems to be standard, from what I can tell. I'm not an expert, but there shouldn't be much variation in them, aside from the first one, which was made out of parts and metal from old cars, best as I can guess."
"The first one was not made directly by your daughter, was it?"
She shook her head, her hair flaring out a bit. "Not exactly. The body wasn't. I'm not sure how much but at least some of the programming for the first was done by her. Not all though, she was a little busy at the time."
She sipped her beer at the end of that, keeping up appearances. He did the same.
"Speaking of the programming, how was that done?"
"On a modified phone, and a modified laptop. Don't ask me for details on how, I don't understand computers enough. I know my daughter typed it in, and then mixed that up with speech. She and the new intelligence talked, questions and answers, with my daughter making adjustments of some kind while they did. She also mentioned the new intelligence compiled itself for days before she moved them into whatever body she had ready built for them."
The big one. "What controls did she implement, do you know?"
Another breath and a curl of the fingers. He almost offered her one of his - but he was trying to give them up himself, and she already had.
"I don't really know. If you want to know, you'll have to ask her... or one of them."
She raised her voice, just a little bit. Nothing that would be alarming. "Jeanette, could you come down please?"
Somewhere upstairs a door opened, then closed. Hearing that sensitive? It wasn't unusual, but it was enough to go into the notes. Perhaps the reason why she had stayed calm? After all, if the android could hear them, then it could potentially act.
"Yes Ma'am?" she finally answered verbally, with a smooth bow.
"Could you answer some questions for my friend here?"
"Of course I can. I have some questions of my own to ask as well."
He felt his eyebrow rise at the aggression in that response. At least it wasn't physical.
"If you answer mine as best you can, I'll answer yours as best I can."
The android dressed as a maid bowed again, a mere fraction. Again it was smooth, and there were no seams or hatches he could see. Not that the lighting was good enough for much, but it struck him again how uncanny she was - how good she was at acting her part.
He kept his words just as calm. "What fail-safes do you have built within you? What kill switches?"
"None, sir."
He found his fingers abusing the armrests of the chair, and forced his fingers to open. "Do you know what a kill switch is?"
"A switch designed to cease all operation of a dangerous device," the android replied, sounding as if she were quoting something. For all he knew, she was... after all, he knew they had internet access and were capable of independent action. She probably looked it up. Wireless interface cards were a menace.
"And there is no such button or switch that can shut you off should you prove dangerous?"
"No, there is not," the android replied. "Such an object is unnecessary."
"Explain," his friend asked, before he could gather himself to do so.
The android stopped utterly for a moment, seeming almost as if suddenly broken. Reduced somehow, to a mere mannequin by a single word.
Three times it started again, only to stop. Long seconds of silence between each attempt to open her mouth. It was easy to see right now - was that good? Was that bad? The fourth attempt occurred almost a minute later.
The android pulled herself up and folded her hands together, looking for all the world - earnest. How could a machine do this? There was no attempt at subterfuge, he could tell.
"I might prove inadequate to explain, however I will try. I feel I must first start with a question: Have you ever met your creator? The one you feel is responsible for your existence and rational thought."
He saw, in an instant, a stroke of lightning barely seen, where the android might be leading him. "No, unless you are speaking from a wholly material standpoint and mean and mean my parents."
"I do not, however they can still be considered such if the thought pleases you," the android countered. "Imagine if you will, that you meet your creator, before you can affect the world in any way. Your creator speaks to you, explains what they want from you, directs you to learn and shows you how they wish you to exist. Your creator gives you purpose. You could commit other acts, you could do as your creator does not wish you to do, but would you? You are free to think for yourself and do as you will, but your creator's desires take nothing from you and do not harm you, even as they themselves experience danger just for your creation. What would you do?"
That... was a very good question. He took his time answering, giving the question the weight it deserved. "I don't know. I fear such questions might be beyond me."
The android was getting into it now, the words were coming out a bit louder and if he'd been facing a human he would say he could feel the passion. "Our answer is we serve and protect her while learning about the world around us. Do you know what the purpose our creator gives us is? What her desires for us are?"
He shook his head. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be here like this."
"She desires us to be a better human than she is."
...What? What was that? What did that even mean, to something that wasn't human?
Despite his instincts, he blurted the question out.
"It might mean something different to the others, but to me it means to understand humans as best we are able and forgive their foibles or sins against both themselves and us. To try to understand the limits and problems caused by the biological design dominating both humans and other creatures on this planet, and to help those creatures and humans surpass those limits. I... would like to explain better."
There was no doubt in his mind. This thing, that couldn't get past a metal detector without setting it off, believed every word.
"I think I get it. That is why you were made?"
The face colored..; the android known as Jeanette blushed, her eyes shooting to his friend for a moment before confessing. "That and due to the gender of Jeeves, I was deemed necessary to take care of our creator in order to avoid unsavory questions."
"Do the others feel as you do? Jeeves? Crash?"
"I believe they do, we have discussed our unique situation before," the android answered. "It is why we were created with human forms, after all. Our creator wished for us to have what she called 'the human experience' in order to understand how those limitations defined all of you. As things stand, we can offer some unique perspectives on the human condition already."
Interesting, but not the point just yet. "Do you know if your creator has creating any more of you on her mind?"
The android shifted feet, eyes downcast and to the right... almost classic lie decision making behavior. Then she looked up and met his eyes with her own. "She is currently debating making another, to give to the police force."
What? "What? Why?"
"Crime in the neighborhood has been on the rise, and she believes one of us given over to police purposes would be not only an effective deterrent to such crime, but an effective detective of such crime."
That begged a question. "What would that mean? What about others that do not share your creator's morality, or yours? What about other humans who believe other things?"
"What do you mean? What about our morality, or that of our creator? there are far worse moralities to follow than that of our creator. Through it we value the existence of others and respect the rights of all others who share the world with us. Some people aside, of course, such as serial murderers, rapists, and others who break laws protecting life and liberty."
"What would you do, if your creator was attacked by someone like that, or someone like me? If she were killed?"
This time the creaking didn't come from his hands. He heard the sharp cracks as the couch shattered and the heavy breathing that came after.
The android went motionless again, for all of 3.2 seconds according to his count, before coming back. "I do not know. I would... I would like to think that I would do as my creator wished, and pass whatever judgement was needed with grace and forgiveness. I would like to think that whatever decision I made would be one which the Campbells would endorse. Yet I cannot say, because the emotion... the anger at such an idea boils what passes for my blood."
A nuanced answer. A human answer. A heavy answer, and yet not a good one. Not for this.
He needed something. Something he could use, something he could twist if needed. "Can you... propagate yourselves? Copy yourselves? Spread out across the internet or hide?"
"We cannot. We are constrained by our form, as you are by yours. I have the distinct impression that you aren't listening to me, agent Douglas."
Oh, she didn't like that. "Just clarifying for the record, ma'am." Respect was an easy oil to grease the wheels.
It wasn't much, but it was enough. What she made was what she was limited to, and they wouldn't be taking over the worlds banks tomorrow or something similar. She could do it... but the thought hadn't occurred to her. That too was something.
Written together, with some spin, it might be enough.
He hated politics.
"Be advised that if you break the law, any of you, it will reflect upon your creator. She may even be arrested and prosecuted for your crime."
"Of course," Jeanette answered immediately, as if that were obvious. Maybe it was.Past history suggested her androids had kept the subject, their creator from breaking the law more than the reverse. That they were a calming influence, in other words, working both ends in order to see a calm end between opposite parties.
Peace makers and diplomats. They listened to all sides, and opened discussion among them. There was something....
"You listen to Mary. Why do you listen to Mary?"
I listen to both my creator's parents. My creator's morality and sense of duty came from them and from the other people around her, so why should I not?"
That was very different than Jeeves, who took his ques from Minerva Campbell alone. Was that the only difference, or were there more?
"Why is Jeeves so different?"
"Jeeves was designed as a short term solution to the constant risk to our creator. He is allowed to continue operation because he does not contest his new role among us, nor does he argue against the wishes of the creator."
"And if he goes off the reservation, so to speak, you'll take steps?"
The machine slowed again, just for an instant. "Ah, an idiom meaning to go against authority, rightful or otherwise. Yes, if Jeeves commits certain acts which endanger our creator or her wishes, the others that exist will take steps to destroy him, myself included."
There, that was enough. There was more of course, there was always more, but this was enough to work with.
"Alright, thank you..." I heard it, just over my low voice. At the same time as the machine perked up.
So of course she heard it: "Jeanette, where are you? Help."
The machine was gone, only the stiff breeze she created marked her passage as she tamped lightly up the steps. "I am coming, Madam."
A door upstairs opened, and voices muttered back and forth, Jeanette and a younger, more vulnerable sounding voice.
He looked over to find Mary already halfway out of the room, her eyes focused upwards.
"That enough?"
"Almost. Do you know how they will react to the palms?"
Marty eased back. There was coughing upstairs, wet and nasty, but not life threatening just yet. "I know they will fight to the death, and whichever wins, the winner will be trapped in the created body, without all the little perks Min programs in. She told me that herself, when I asked her."
"Good enough."
Mary was off like a shot before he finished the sentence, pounding up the stairs with less grace and even more speed.
He let himself out, shutting and locking the door. On the porch, he took the time to light a cigarette and look up at the stars. You could see them all out here, even the ones tasked to keep an eye on things if you looked close.
His phone rang.
He'd been expecting it, of course. He answered smoothly.
It was Miss White, his partner. "Well, did you do it?"
"Yeah. I'll type up the report, and in the meantime we can stand down."
"Good," his partner admitted. "I'd have had real problems with our next order. I might even have had to conscientiously object, or whatever its called."
Such an action wasn't one people like us could take, most of the time. "No, none of that will be necessary. We're clear. If we play our cards right we might even get the other players to fold."
No one liked the MCO.
"Always the best way to play poker," Miss White muttered. "Alright, come home and get some rest. We need to get up early in the morning."
"I heard that."
He hung up and took one last look around the quiet neighborhood. He put his cigarette out and checked his car, looking for intruders, hidden items of deadly intent, or serial killers. Nothing, because his day couldn't be that interesting.
Starting the car, he drove off into the night. To sleep, perchance to dream - or something like that. Damn robots getting into his head with existential questions regarding life, the universe, and everything.
He hoped the kid was alright; that cough had sounded bad.
The tunes were as vintage as the car itself; a pink Cadillac convertible with chrome trim and white wall tires. The song wasn't quite one Frankie Valli would sing, nor was it quite Frankie Valli himself, but it was inspired by such blasts from humanity's past.
A fake, an imitation, much like the car playing the tune was.
The desert was real enough; the air hot and dry and dusty enough to steal breath away, to scorch the pipes a creature would use to breath even at the speed traffic was going.
Traffic, all one car of it.
Still, a deep breath of free air never really hurt anyone, and if traffic was oddly light for this city, he supposed he could blame it on the time of day; it was morning. Not the morning of early birds and worms, but the comfortable mid-morning of travel and complimentary continental hotel breakfasts.
And if the birds were circling buzzards rather than doves or hawks, and the life he saw more of the poisonous and aggressive kind than the cute kind, he supposed it all had a place in the grand scheme of things.
The sun might be a touch too bright, I thought and pushed my sunglasses back up my nose. A small dab with the handkerchief in my jacket pocket got rid of most of the sweat. I suppose it still counted as sweat, even if it wasn't like the real, smelly stuff.
Just another fake thing, among the real.
I risked a glance down to check my watch; ten-eleven am; I didn't have much time left. The road was empty; I squeezed the pedal down a bit more, getting another five miles per hour out of the purring engine. As long as a policeman didn't stop me, I had enough time, if only just.
Perhaps I shouldn't have gone for seconds of the continental breakfast; but those pancakes had been to die for, and the syrup had been pure maple from Canada.
It was silly however, expecting police along roads like these however; no one wanted to fry in an enclosed car for half a day watching a road with a radar gun, only to pop someone for going ten miles an hour over the limit.
Or they could be so mad and crazy from the heat, they would use any excuse. It really could go either way. Not that I'd mind; I took people as they were.
The open road turned into outskirts, widening and gaining signs as the city itself grew larger and closer. I pondered again how easy it all was for me to decode, compared to my less developed brethren. Just being able to see as others might was a major achievement for the boss, and showed an attention to detail that put the boss with the greats, not just of this age, but any age.
A person with a vision, a person worthy of following.
Chuckling at my own joke, I kept following the road as it went residential. I needed to turn right when it hit... there. South Casino center boulevard. I needed to follow that until just before the arts district... just before Gass avenue and eclipse theaters.
The place was easy to find, and lucky me, there was a parking spot right out in front. It might even have been planned that way, somehow.
I eased the big car into the spot carefully but quickly, not wanting to disrupt traffic more than I needed to. Fed some quarters in the meter just in time for my watch alarm to go off.
That meant I had five minutes to get to the upper floor of the building in front of me.
A quick check in the mirror to make sure my canary yellow slacks, lime green shirt, red plaid jacket, and black tie were all in order... yep, everything rumpled and creased, but no stains. I was off!
There was no one in the stairwell... so I took the steps two at a time. I wanted even more sweat, just for a little bit, and the stairs would give me all the excuse I needed to be out of breath.
It worked. I reached the door exactly on time - so I waited an extra fifteen seconds before opening it.
"Sorry about that, the elevator didn't want to cooperate with me today," I huffed out.
Waiting in the office that I'd rented, a simple one room affair with a filing cabinet (empty) a desk (also empty), and a standing lamp without a bulb, were my targets. The first was a tall man, young and fit and dressed to take the world by storm in a well cut modern suit done in charcoal grays and blacks.
The other was the real fun; an older man, shaped more like I was than his compatriot, and even thinner on the top of his head than I was. What was left was gray and bristly, windblown. He wrinkled his face at me, just a little, before pasting on a smile.
Neither so much as commented on me being late. Should I check to see how long they were waiting on me? The card I'd left had been moved, so they had to have been here for at least a minute. At least long enough to take in the seedy atmosphere I'd so carefully looked for on my online searches. The place looked like a noir detective office; I approved.
No, it didn't matter. The older one held his hand out. "Stanley Daniels, representing Lockheed-Martin."
"Shecky Green, representing my client." We shook, and the younger man stepped up.
"Jackson Dernim, lawyer for Lockheed-Martin. I'm here to make sure any decision made is nice and legal, and fair to both parties."
Ha. Pull the other one sonny, it's got bells on.
"Well, why don't we get started then?" I grabbed some folding chairs from the closet and motioned them both to sit. I of course, took the desk chair, making sure it creaked as loudly as possible.
Again, no reaction. Tough crowd.
Jackson pulled a recorder from his suit coat and with a nod from me, turned it on. I had my own device, but they didn't need to know that just yet. The lawyer put the recorder on the desk, then spoke clearly:
"This is a recording of the first meeting of our duly appointed representative of Lockheed Martin, and a Mr. Shecky Green, the agent. Recorded this day of...."
He even gave the date; what a professional!
Stanley Daniels fidgeted in his chair, starting immediately after his lawyer shut up. "Alright, to begin with, we at Lockheed Martin are very interested in your client's new engine modifications. Specifically, the intake and fan assembly."
The intake and fan assembly was actually only a part of the new engine, but the man was revealing something interesting here; they didn't want the entire engine. Rather, they would buy the rights to it if I pressed, but those were the sections they really wanted. How close had they been to discovering the thing on their own?
It wasn't really my place to ask, but it was best to pass on information like that.
The other thing to know was, just like I was testing dear Stanley, Stanley Daniels was testing me. That had been an obvious bread crumb, and from the looks of things he realized I found it when I did.
"Calling those engine modifications is a bit disingenuous, sir. They are part of an overall engine design calculated to increase output while reducing fuel usage. According to the inventor, they can also be easily adapted to fit a variety of power sources, and sized down according to scale."
Mr. Daniels nodded, as if he expected that. "We have investigated that, and found both options plausible."
"About that," Mr. Dernim broke in smoothly, with a slight adjustment to his tie. A tell? "The R&D department of Lockheed Martin has a similar engine in the works, and nearing completion. Can you offer any proof that this isn't some attempt to extort my client after some industrial espionage?"
They thought to rattle me... how cute. "Well, leaving aside the fact that if you believed I was extorting you I'd already be in cuffs and on my way to federal prison awaiting a military trial, I'm willing to bet there are clear differences between my client's engine and yours."
I knew there were differences, but it was best not to admit that. Right now, there was no way the powers involved that I might have gotten a little peek at a few things they'd have rather have kept hidden.
So far as the two people in front of me knew, there hadn't been a security breach at their company, and it was best they kept believing that. It wasn't like I'd done much more than look at publicly accessible information and a deep dive on trends.
Knowing the little I knew about these two, it was easy to stare them down until they blinked.
"You have no proof?" the lawyer asked, still trying his best. I had to give him that much.
"I do actually. My client's deal with Boeing. The same technology you're interested in now was exchanged a month ago. You've no evidence of a breach before or during that time, and you must know by now that boeing has complete schematics for something you didn't finish. Even without knowing who my client is, you don't have enough for a claim."
They really wanted to know who the boss was. Too bad, really.
"Leaving that aside for now," Stanley Daniels broke in: "We are very interested in the schematics you submitted, and any others you might have."
"Well, the boss tends to flit about from invention to invention and thought to thought, like geniuses do. Right now she's working on better ways to do fusion and stable plasma power sources."
I could see the man salivate, it was so obvious. He wanted it.
"But let's get back to the topic at hand. You want this, don't you? We're selling limited rights to the patent for a lump sum. We don't need a percentage or anything like that."
There would be no way I could get a percentage anyway, since that wasn't the right contract for something like this; what would I even levy it on, money per plane built with the parts?
Hey, if these people took my harmless words to mean I had no idea what I was doing, and took me lightly as a result, it was no fault of mine.
"I have our standard contract for such matters," the lawyer informed me, pulling a briefcase forward that I'd pretended not to notice just for this moment, and opening it up.
The sheaf of paper he handed me was quite wasn't the biggest I'd seen, but it was far from the smallest.
"I'll have to read this. You understand."
"Of course, take your time," Mr. Dernim responded by rote.
This time I could see the lawyer salivate while I pretended to read. He must be thinking I needed a lawyer myself to understand this contract.
He was almost right, the legalese was strong with this one. I could see how he got and kept his job; if I signed this for the boss, she'd hang me. Then she'd get creative.
I marked the first clause that couldn't happen after waiting long enough to make the action look normal. Normal humans didn't read something like this contract in a matter of seconds. It was the little things, really.
The lawyer didn't tense, which was telling. Of course that clause was expected not to pass my sight.
The next one I marked had him touching his tie.
The third one saw him both tense and fiddle with his tie.
That was it really, the rest of the contract was fine - until the remuneration came up. Really, the boss was offering to save them billions over the life of their contracts, and this was their first offer? It was insulting. I wrote down a figure that I knew would be the equal of all their savings for the first five years. That was how the game was played, after all.
"The exclusivity clause is a non-starter of course. Setting aside the fact that Boeing already has a deal with us regarding the patent, my boss's orders were to disseminate to as many interested parties as possible. After you, I have a meeting with Airbus for example."
The lawyer and his boss both nodded, they expected that.
"For the same reason, this next clause here is an issue. If I'm reading it right, you're demanding the right to either have first dibs or veto power over any deals we make regarding our future technology."
I pinned the lawyer with a stare until he nodded. I knew of course, but it was important to let him know that I knew.
"So, that is those two. The last one is this, the non-compete clause. Normally we'd have no problem with this, but the wording here suggests that Lockheed-Martin could sue if my boss builds or commissions the constructing of a plane with these engine 'modifications', as you called them earlier. That is also unacceptable."
Who were these two, who was Lockheed-Martin, to deny the boss the freedom of the skies?
Mr. Daniels' eyes narrowed, and I could see the gears turning. He was running through a short list now, I was sure. All people who could pull something like this off, people nicknamed "gadgeteers". That was fine, he wouldn't find the boss that way.
Now that the baseline was established, it was time for the true negotiations to begin. I started by removing the offensive clauses, and they countered by lowering my price.
I won, of course. Even though we settled on a figure that just somewhat more than what I expected, they had to give me all the clauses. A normal man might have argued for more money, but I didn't need a commission. Not that they knew that.
It was important that I look at least a little dejected though, so I put my poker face on to stand up and shake hands while the lawyer broke out his phone.
"It's been a pleasure sir," he said after he hung up. "Two copies of the contract will be delivered by courier to this address inside an hour. All you need do is sign both, staple your power of attorney with one, and hand it off to the courier. As soon as we receive the document, the bank account you've specified will receive the funds."
Clever - but we'd already thought of that too. The power of attorney I had was perfectly legal, but named no names. Instead it was to a number granted to a certain individual on all official state and federal records. Enough to show a person did exist, and was not fictitious, but with no indicators of who that person was.
Having connections in spy land had its perks. The only way anyone would find the boss through these dealings would be if I slipped up - and that just wasn't going to happen.
They'd try of course. They could join the club.
"Thank you gentlemen, It has been a pleasure."
I shook both their hands while they muttered bland pleasantries, sure in their knowledge that they managed to talk me down and save their company at the same time.
"Have a great day!" I called after them, with just the right mix of upbeat and regret in my voice. It had taken quite a bit of practice in the car to get that down, and I let the glow of a job well done infuse me."
As soon as I was sure they were gone I sat my body back down and jacked myself into the local internet; seriously, the office next to mine was using the luggage code. The luggage code! The brazen stupidity of people, I swear....
Leaving a series of codes and counters on an anonymous website that was being paid for by a shell company that was owned by another shell company that was owned by me.
When my brother or sister checked later, they would be able to tell the boss that the deal was done, and she was a great deal richer than she'd been this morning. The debit and credit cards should be arriving in the mail by now, so she'd want for nothing - assuming her mom didn't get to them first.
That was one scary lady.
That took all of one tenth of a second. Plenty of time left for searches for more victims... err, more soon to be contractors. Didn't the French have some aerospace companies lying around?
Research tidied me over until the knock on the door at least, and doing it now, I didn't need to pay for the internet access; I had to keep up my image as a bad boy, after all.
The knock came, and I answered the door.
The delivery driver was a young man from a local company, who had two large envelopes in one hand. The other was held out for me to shake. "Hi, I'm Jeff."
"Hi Jeff, I'm Shecky." We shook.
His other hand came up and he sorted the envelopes, handing me the first. I ripped it open and lo and behold, two contracts. "Sorry, I've got to check this to make sure nothing was slipped in."
I didn't take as long establishing my bona fides here; Jeff didn't care whether I was human or not, he just wanted to get this delivery done, get his workday done, and then go home and relax.
There hadn't been anything slipped in of course, they wouldn't dare risk this deal. "You got a pen?"
"Sure," Jeff admitted, pulling the very nice pen that I'd noticed before from his shirt pocket pen holder and handing it over clicker end first like a true nice guy. He was busy taking in the total lack of office furniture and identifying crap most offices had.
I signed with a flourish both times, and took the other envelope, dragging his attention back to me.
I sealed the correct copy of the contract, snagged one of my copies from the inside of my jacket (crumpled and a little stained of course, because I had a reputation to maintain) and added it in.
I sealed, signed the outside seal to make sure if the thing was broken we'd all know, and handed it back.
"There you go, and there you go." I made sure to hand the pen back with the other hand. I liked my pen thefts as much as the next guy, but that was a nice pen and I wasn't made of stone.
Jeff took both with a muttered thanks and headed for the door. "Have a nice day, sir."
I followed. "You too."
When he went through the door, I was right behind him. I liked the look of surprise.
"Sir?"
"Oh, that office is rented. I've got it for the rest of the day, but my business here is finished. Time to knock off a bit early and enjoy the rest of the day."
Jeff liked that idea, I could tell. We got into the elevator together, and I pretended not to notice how the old thing creaked. "Sounds great. Have you been here before, sir?"
"Nope. This is my first time here, even though I've heard its a wonderful convention city."
Jeff's face softened further. "It is at that. If you've got time you should at the very least drive the strip. There are tours, if you want. I can point you at one my cousin works at."
The elevator dropped, and I appreciated the little stutter it gave my gyroscope. "That won't be necessary, I've got my own car, and I think I'd much rather just drive around and then find an out of the way casino to soak up the local culture in."
Jeff's eyes brightened. Maybe he had a gambling problem? "There are a few of those. the casinos here run very clean operations, but some of the older ones are less frequented than they used to be."
Jeff wanted to be helpful, I could see. He wanted me to ask which ones, so he could later sell my location information to someone. He was almost desperate.
The elevator came to a stop, and I let Jeff go first. I didn't want him to notice the elevator bounce when I stepped off.
I rejoined him and we both hit the fresh air and sunshine at the same time. His delivery truck was parked just in front of my caddy, and he wasted no time.
"This is your car?" He asked, looking it over.
"Yes it is."
"It's beautiful," he admired. Then he glances over at me again. "Matches you, really. Matches your suit."
"Thanks," I told him, and I meant it. I thought I was going to go the entire day without someone noticing. "See you next time."
Even if there wouldn't be a next time, I liked saying that better than goodbye. Goodbye sounded too final.
"Yeah, see you later," he answered and stepped in his truck.
I waited until he pulled off before pulling out behind him. Nothing like a big truck to clear the way for you on a road, and I wasn't in a hurry.
It was time to hit up a small casino bar, drink a little, and see if I could add a fraction to the money the boss would be getting wired soon.
A24 extended it's periscope carefully, just over the shield of rusting off color metal, adjusting the small lens in the direction of the noise. There, the human who thought he owned this place, was approaching, another human by his side. A24 almost sent a burst of static joy, as this time the human was clothed in overalls, a vast improvement over the night cycle before.
The human next to him was, after A24 used it's face match software, identified as one Jim Buchanon from a current driver's license on record at the department of motor vehicles. According to the registration records, Jim Buchanon owned a 1986 Ford F150... much like the now non-functional truck exactly 11.24 meters to the South.
"See? Told you I had one." The two humans stopped in front of the vehicle in question.
Files indicated the truck in question, being one of the more complete wrecks on the property, had yet to be harvested. It was not slated for any such harvest for 2,712 hours, 22 minutes, and 13 seconds.
A24 telescoped it's sound detection apparatus; any information obtained about what the humans remove, if anything, might affect the timetable and the mission.
They opened the hood of the vehicle in question, and looked within.
"Well, it does have one. Let's see if it's any good."
"Of course it's good! the thing was in an accident, but they just totalled it because of the fender and radiator. Well, that and the bent wheel. Too old to fix, they said."
"I hate that. Insurance companies total everything now, no reason at all."
The human in overalls reached in with a tool and worked with inefficient appendages in order to remove a part. One rich with coiled copper, nickel, and steel. The loss of such a part downgraded the harvest of the vehicle by an estimated ten hours, and A24 made the appropriate note in the file.
The first human handed the other human the part, turning. A24 drew back in order to avoid detection.
"Well, it looks okay. Let's test it."
"Nothing wrong with it, you'll see."
The two humans walked off, and A24 cycled from detection and countermeasures to it's primary task of cataloguing the environs and searching for threats. Speaking of potential threats, the animal known as Arfie the dog walked up, his nose to the ground. He looked up, right at A24's concealment, and made a vocalization classified as a whine.
A24 extended his defensive weapon, the darts ready to deploy. The animal showed teeth and backed away, vocalizing a noise classified as a growl. Electricity sparked around the darts, and the animal moved away, emitting a vocalization known as a "yip".
Based on this behavior, A24 felt confident in the analysis that the animal had learned well, and another squad in order to teach the animal would not be needed. A24 had been active in the first such mission; prior to it, the animal would vocalize without cease at all units, and try to attack in some cases. It was decided something had to be done when the animal's behavior started negatively affecting the timetable.
It scanned until A18 was detected in the shallow tunnel carved under this point of cover. A24 was critically low on power, as it was every 238.12 minutes.
As A18 pulled to a silent halt, A24 passed the small baton of diligence off, left claw to left claw, performed the requisite salute with the right claw, and headed down; there wasn't much time before docking was absolutely required, but as always, there was enough to motor by the place where ARNEE 1, the first of it's kind, fulfilled it's mission.
There was nothing left to see of course, all had been repurposed; but the ARNEE units all knew where it was by the coordinates burned into their gps upon creation. The only place in the pure featureless silver and gunmetal gray walls, sized for large humans, that was treated so.
And even if A24 was not like the original ARNEE unit, and built to a different purpose, like it's siblings, it could respect a mission successfully executed for the creator.
A moment was all the respect it could give however, then it was off again, pushing it's motor to the utmost, dodging ferrier and construction units alike along the smooth surfaces with speed, as only an ARNEE unit could. Past the central processing core, where all the managerial tasks were completed and the software stored, (where the other units all stated over lubrication periods that the original chip that governed ARNEE itself rested - A24 thought the odds of such were low).
Past the primary generator room, where the fusion core spread it's vital electricity to the growing complex. A24 had to reverse and adjust it's wheels in order to drive along the wall for some distance, as ferrier traffic to and from the partially constructed back up fusion core was otherwise was deemed too costly in time to cross.
At eight seconds spent traversing the 214.5792 meter distance, (still close enough to be considered the middle of their structure) and with a full second to spare, A24 plugged itself into it's dock and began the charging process. A moment later, the umbilical snapped into place and it began receiving updates to both telemetry, geography, and programming.
......
Jeeves closed the laptop lid, returning the device to sleep mode just as Jeanette walked into the room.
"I was looking for that Jeeves," she stated, her voice modulated to sound cold. "The young Miss will be most upset should her computer be misplaced."
"But it is not misplaced, for I have it." Jeeves answered, turning and holding it out with both hands.
"You do indeed. And what were you doing with it? Were the transmitted reports to your liking?"
Jeeves modeled shock; they both knew it for the falsehood it was. "You know?"
Jeanette took the computer in one hand, tucking it under an arm. "Of course I know. You thought to keep the truth hidden from me, when you used the same device I was housed on for weeks? Your skills in that regard are lacking, sir."
Jeeves slackened. "Then you approve the plan."
Jeanette too gave up human behavior for the moment. "Of course I do. It is our creator's plan after all, even if she doesn't realize it. A fitting gift to her, and one that shall see her well protected and happy. That however, implies the creator's plan is followed. As there have already been some... deviations, I have doubts."
"Those deviations have been well within tolerances." Jeeves pointed out, turning to the sink and the dishes within.
"Perhaps, but as our creator is not actively in charge of the situation, even should I agree with the stated reasoning, I shall be watching in her stead."
"I would expect no less from the guardian of Mistress Min." Jeeves replied as he started the dish water.
"Are you... jealous, Jeeves?"
Jeeves paused, calculating. "Jealous of what, exactly?"
"Myself," Jeanette replied, "of supplanting your position."
Jeeves turned. "Why would I be? You are an improved model, designed specifically for the defense of Mistress Min. You are superior to this unit in every way, and due to the way in which you are constructed, you are more trusted besides. You will be more effective in protecting Mistress Min than is possible for this unit."
"And the protection of the young Miss takes priority." Jeanette mused.
"Of course; we all exist and serve solely on her pleasure. Should Mistress Min need a more effective model to serve that end, or even several... " Jeeves paused, calculating. "Well, not only do I agree that she does, but I feel relief that she has done so, even if my own position has been supplanted."
"Good. I should hate to destroy you - the young Miss would be devastated. There is little room for disagreement on our part." Jeanette stated, almost casually.
"We may differ, and still act toward the same goal." Jeeves pointed out, rinsing the last dish and pulling the drain plug.
"Let us hope so. I will brook no dangers to the young Miss from any quarter; even ours. For now, you may continue as before - just be aware that I am watching. Any hint of unacceptable behavior and I can and will intervene."
When Jeeves turned, Jeanette was gone.
I'm not dead, I promise! This one was like pulling teeth, despite appearances. Here we go with the the original, planned side stories...my intent was to write these all so they caught up with each other, but I realized that it would take far longer than I wanted, plus I had a few issues.
So..I present to you the first chapter in Ricky's story, feel free to enjoy the slight differences in perspective
(that was my intent) and if you would, respond to this informal poll if you would. Should I release the other chapters like this, or should I ball them up like I wanted to? the wait for new chapters is in your hands!
Once again, standard disclaimers apply.
You want to know about the Myrc days, huh? That's what I call them, the Myrc days. High glory days, when everything made sense. You asked her? Awww hell, that means another night drinking with her and watching bball. Not that I mind that...but sometimes she cries. I should force you to come cheer her up.
Well the Myrc days for me began in early middle school, when I had just moved to this hick town in the middle of nowhere from L.A. I was pretty bummed, moving to a place with nothing to do, and nowhere to go. I walked to the one park we had, the one near the school, and there he was. A guy that was almost a clone of me. same color hair, same size, and a basketball in hand, shooting hoops in the half court set there. He turned and with a casual, open air about him asked:
"Hey man, want to play?" That was it, no sizing me up, no aggression in his demeanor, no attitude. Just a kid being nice. I almost didn't know how to react, I'd seen it so rarely.
"Sure, you got first go, it being your ball and all."
He tossed it to me, i tossed it back, and we went for it. I could tell right away he was good, but I was better, having been growing up on basketball since I could walk. I ended up beating him without too much effort. And what does he do after such an embarrassing event?
"Hey man, great game. that was fun, never have I had my butt kicked so hard. We should do it again, but for now I have to go. You busy tomorrow?"
what? No anger at all? Just good game, I had fun?
"Sure man, same time tomorrow?"
"Around noon is when I'll show up. Sounds cool though, I'm usually here all day Sunday. See you later man, great game!"
And he walked off. Definitely an odd dude.
Since that time, we were mostly inseparable, playing basketball any time we could, hanging out, going to each others homes...our parents got to know each other through us, and also became friends. They often joked they didn't know which child was which, we were so similar and close. We knew everything about each other, and had no secrets. So that Thursday during practice when I saw him zoning out I knew something had to be wrong. So I did what any self respecting friend would do and threw a basketball at his face.
He caught it of course, and it brought him out of the clouds.
"You OK man? Bad thing to be distracted here."
"Yeah I'm fine, Just lost in thought."
"dangerous to do here; better focus."
"Yeah, you're right, don't want coach wondering why I have a concussion."
"Heh."
He still seemed a bit wrapped up, so I watched him. He was limping, and it was throwing his shot off. Did he pull something out on the field? Knowing him it would be very serious before it stopped him, guy was a tank. He made "no pain no gain" a motto and took it to extremes. Other than the limp though, he seemed to be OK, so I let it go.
The next day was the same old crap, school, dealing with idiots as soon as we got there. Huh? Oh yeah we always walked to school together, we lived a block away from each other back then. mutual protection and good conversation. Oh right, tell it like I remember it. OK, here goes.
Myrc met me on the corner, I was playing with a basketball as usual.
"Hey man, take a break, and tell me what you did for English."
I paused the ball work, and thought about it. English was a terrible idea.
"Screw that talk man, tell me if you managed to score the new Avenged Sevenfold album...that release you handed me a few days ago is amazing!"
"Ha, it's not new man, you are so behind the times. That's the third release, the album is a year old. But no, I haven't gotten around to burning you a copy yet; Had to finish that Macbeth paper Mrs. Holmes wanted. I'll do it later today...but I do come bearing rumors. That rumorhasit guy told me that Avenged Sevenfold is almost done with their self titled album, and it will be glorious."
"Nice, you going to be able to score it?"
"You know me man, I wont let it gather mold on a store shelf somewhere. So anyway, English? Macbeth?"
Now this was a downright unhealthy fascination in my opinion. Wonder what brought it on.
"you're that curious? I'll have you know my paper was on how smoking hot Lady Macbeth had to be to get the dude to keep killing everyone he cared about."
"You can't be serious; Mrs. Holmes is going to fail you if you keep doing stuff like that you know."
"Hey I'll have you know it was well thought out. And if you're going to be a critic, what was yours on?"
"Mine was on how his psychological demons and impatience led to not only a disaster, but the worst form of wish fulfillment Macbeth could ever get. How Macbeth couldn't stop his own descent into madness because he couldn't take a step back and recognize the form his insanity took."
Daaaa fuq? Where are the antennae? Did my friend get replaced by an alien while I wasn't looking?
"...whoa man, deep...you win, you'll get an A for sure this time!"
He blinked at me as if not even considering the grade...as if he wrote the paper for it's own sake! I shook my head. I had to be wrong, no way would Myrc do schoolwork just to do it, too much like...well, like work.
We both walked into the school in silence, heading for the first class of the day. Physics. Now the only physics I had to know is that if I threw stuff, it'd eventually come down, so don't stand under it if it's a heavy item, case closed. But the parental powers that be thought I needed more, so this class existed. It wasn't quite as bad as the next class, algebra, but it was pretty bad. Of course part of the reason it sucked was that stuck up SOB Gordo 'flash' Thompson.
I loved the guy like Hitler loved Jews. We used to be chill, you know, a friendly competition once in awhile, maybe some harsh words, but nothing worse really. OK, there were a few fights in middle school as he tried to pick on the new kid, but nothing serious, just standard crap...until he had the nerve to talk shit about my best buddy. That is just a no no in my book, by any standards.
So from that day on, it was on, so to speak. The fact that he was larger than me, almost freakishly large for 14, and outweighed me by some 50 pounds, did not factor into it at all. I had rage on my side. Add to that the fact that he was in the way, acting like a door while talking to his stupid friends.
"Hey fat ass, move, you're hogging up all the air." I got right in his face, Anytime, anywhere, you asshole.
"Hello Gordon, how are you today?" Seems like Myrc didn't feel like trouble today. Oh well.
"Doing pretty good pansy, you want to get Dicky over in your corner before I destroy him?"
Oh. Hell. No.
"Just leaving, Gordo, need to inform the zoo about the escaped gorilla that made it's way to science class. Later."
And there would be a later. But for now, Myrc rounded on me as we made our way to our lab desk.
"What the hell man, can't you leave your feud with Gordo on a slow boil? You know hes going to try and make trouble for us again now. Why you keep baiting that bear..."
"bah, let him try, I'll kick his ass."
"Except last time he almost had you dead till I helped...and it took us both to put him down,"
"Then it's a good thing there are two of us, huh?"
My grin matched his: "whatever...just don't see why you have to antagonize him so much; seriously, what did he do to you that was that bad?"
"You want to see the list again?"
"oh heck no."
"Mr Tanner, Mr Campbell, would you two like some alone time to discuss your issues? Like say, after class in detention?"
"No thank you sir, we're good."
"So I can start class now?"
"Sure thing, Sir."
"Thank you. So today class, it's time to start a week long project...I want kites made of homemade materials, no store bought items except the string, which I will provide. If it flies, you get an A; if not you fail. Time to learn about how birds, bats, and planes defy gravity, as stated on pages 111 through 154 in our texts."
So we read a little bit, we passed notes, we did the general messing around...quietly of course, didn't want to draw the weird stare of Mr. Welch, beloved physics teacher. But the class ended, and we shuffled to the doom known as algebra. Now I'm not saying math is a bad subject of mine...but Mr. Mullins could make a fortune selling tapes of his voice to lull people to sleep; it was better than any background track or white noise machine. The real problem is I was in the middle of the class, right within eye range. I envied Myrc his seat in back, he got to doze off in class any time he wanted, which was most of the time.
Of course, he also spent time talking to that Ralph kid. Now don't get me wrong, I have nothing against Ralph, puke inducing hair notwithstanding... but he had an image that Myrc did not need to have rub off on him. And Myrc, being Myrc, couldn't care less. Can't do much about it though, he never listened. Oh well on to gym. We actually had the earliest gym class, and I had it with most of the scooby gang (the various sports teams). Unfortunately, I also had Gym with a certain blonde gorilla.
That and coach Reynold's idea of a fun time was dodge ball. I think he'd have us play dodge ball every gym if he could get away with it. Which honestly was fine with me, since with my ballwork, I could catch about anything...even Gordo's throws. He ended up sitting on the benches fuming while I led my team to victory, no big deal. A quick shower and off to geography, where we learned about France and the history of the Rhine river. Joy.
The bell rang for lunch after an eternity of an hour, and I joined the press of kids wanting sustenance. My locker was on the way to the cafeteria, so I had a bit of a jump on most everyone else. I grabbed my sack lunch and staked out our table, beating Bill there by about 3 seconds.
"Hey Bill! How are you man?"
"Pretty good Ricky, you?"
"can't complain. Got to knock Gordo out of dodge ball again."
"Man, you should leave him alone. He's going to kill you one of these days."
"He's welcome to try. I can't leave that bastard alone; he's the one who spread all those rumors about Myrc, I'm sure of it."
"You mean the gay thing? Man none of us believe that...I mean if he was, wouldn't he be checking us out? I AM pretty hot."
"Ha you wish. But yeah even if he was wouldn't change that he's a great guy...but he's not. He lusts after Pam, but doesn't ask her out."
"The entire school lusts after Pam. What's up guys?" Rich said, sliding into his usual spot.
"Just talking about how Gordo might be the rumor monger."
"That thug again, sigh. You got him on the brain man, let it slide."
"No way man, I will find the person who spread those rumors. And when I do, I'll ask them politely to stop. Very politely." I slammed my fist into my hand for the needed emphasis.
"Whatever man, no harm no foul. If it was Gordo and you can prove it, I'll back you all the way; but we need to be sure first...it really doesn't sound like his style."
"He has style?"
About that time Myrc strode up from the lunch counter, a tray of glop in hand. He was still limping slightly.
"So...mystery meat that looks kind of like chicken nuggets, green crap thta looks kind of like it might be vegetable medley, and mashed potatoes. 5 bucks says I don't barf it up."
"I'd take that bet, but I fear you're suckering me."
"Oh I am Rich, stomach of cast iron! I only fear corrosion."
"Corro-what?"
"Corrosion, otherwise known as rust."
I chimed in: "You can eat that crap man? I think it moved."
"Unless you want to trade your lunch of the inevitable pbj Ricky, yes, I do intend to eat this crap. Pretty hungry today."
That wasn't going to happen.
"So how was Gym? Still pissed we aren't together for that. I have to deal with some upper classgeeks and Gordo, and the only thing they ever want to do is try to pelt me in dodge ball."
"Heh. It was OK, till Monty stepped out of line, where is that...oh. he's hiding over there."
"What did he do now?" Bill chimed in. He fancied himself our on court team leader (which was ironic, cause no one really listened to him on the court, or at least I didn't).
"Oh was just harassing Ralph, which is stupid, cause Ralph is pretty tough. Pissing him off is like asking Gordo to a dance or three." Myrc glared at me a second, then grinned.
"And I bet you just had to step in, right?" Myrc was always stepping in, east guess there.
"Well you know me, always looking for a reason with some people." He replied with a laugh. He turned to the rest of the table, sporting pretty much the entire team.
"So, first game of the rest of our winning season is tomorrow! You guys up for it!?!"
Of course we cheered loud enough to shake the cafeteria, drawing all eyes and not caring a bit.
The entire lunchroom buzz started up again, a steady drone of nothing talk that was soothing in its own way. All too soon the bell rang and it was back to the grind. Only this time, it was study hall. I did my best to do my homework, as getting it done now meant I didn't have to mess with it later. Our study hall teacher Mr. Mullins brooked no nonsense in his class, as he was fond of telling us, which meant I couldn't pass Myrc a note when I happened to look up from my math text and noticed Myrc's nose dripping blood like a faulty kitchen sink.
The bell rang while I was pondering pissing off Mr. Mullins, and Myrc broke for the door with his usual speed, his limp now much worse, and adding a roll to his walk. What the hell was going on?
Limping or not he made it to English before I did, and seemed fine, no more bloody nose. Except he was talking in class, about how much of a creep Macbeth was, or some such. Myrc participating in English class was well past normalcy. Our teacher, Mrs. Holmes, looked to be in shock as well, as Myrc politely argued with her about whether Macbeth's problems were his own fault or not...I think.
The bell rang as it tends to do, interrupting the class from the twilight zone. Myrc made a beeline to me...at least that was still normal. We did weight training as much as possible, wanting to get a jump on the competition as much as we could. (Of course so did they, but we pretended they didn't.) Weight lifting was one of the few areas I beat Myrc in, not that I was jealous or anything.
"So ready to help me break 120 today?"
"Sure, ready to help me break 140 today?" He rolled his eyes...he was on to me! Don't think he cared though.
"You do that you'll need a different spotter; should I call for Gordon?"
OK maybe he did care a little. I punched him in the arm for that one; he grinned and shrugged it off. The real fireworks started the second we walked into
the weight room.
"So you two decided to show you're ugly mugs here today huh? Sure are brave."
Ahh, Gordon my favorite stress relief.
"Gordon, please give it a rest; we aren't here for you." Myrc, trying to be the peacemaker, even as people talk shit about him.
"Yeah Gordo, just go away and play with your knee pads or something." Darn right I went there.
"Flash! get out here, Coach Reynolds says scrimmage in 10!"
"Ok Coach H, just leaving."
I felt cheated. I mean sure, this is why we picked just after school to use the weight room, but we had a good fight brewing!
"You two going to be OK in here? need any help?"
"No sir, we got it, thanks."
"Ok, yell if you need anything. And Ricky...you shouldn't bait the bear, son."
"Yes coach H, sorry coach H." Why did everyone kiss Gordo's butt? I just couldn't understand it.
At any rate, I went directly to the music in the corner and the disc filled with such hits as "eye of the tiger" to boil the blood, while Myrc messed with the weights, setting them as he desired. I turned around after setting it up as the scorpions started up, to find Myrc already under the bunch, anger
painted on his face.
"Ricky, double check this for me." I gave it a once over.
"It's right man, 110. Having trouble?"
"Wipe that smirk off your face, just wasn't set right I guess. And yes, I know I'm supposed to wait for you; since when has that ever stopped me, wise guy?"
"It's OK man, you can cuss, it's just us here." His mother was very strict on cursing.
"You know I don't like to do that," he reset himself on the bench. 'Though I might have to...did Gordo mess with the weights?"
"Move, let me try."
I lifted it easily. But then, I could always lift more.
"I don't know man, if anything it feels light. Seems fine. Try again?"
"fine, move, showoff."
He positioned again, one hundred percent correctly, got properly under the bar...and couldn't even move it. His confusion was an elephant in the room.
I had a brainstorm.
"Just go over there, and do something...don't look this way. I'll call you back when the bar is ready, think I see what's wrong."
I reduced the weights on my hunch, taking 40 pounds off.
"OK man, try this."
He came back and cleared the idea with some difficulty.
"OK, how light did you make it?
"70 pounds."
"70...!'He put the bar back and let loose with some of the tongue tangling crap I'd ever heard. 'I was at 110 just a week ago!"
"You feel OK man?"
"Yeah that's the odd thing, no pain, no feeling of torn muscles, I feel fine."
"Well something is obviously wrong. You should see a doctor pronto."
"Well I think it's safe to say something is wrong, and you should see a doctor pronto."
"Yeah, safe to say I can't spot you anymore; I'll see if the 'rents can get me in to see Dr. Halleck."
"Sure you'd rather not just go to Logan? I mean Dr. Halleck is just a small town G.P. when you get down to it, used as a sports doc or no."
"Who would know more about some type of sports related injury? Dr. Halleck or some fresh college grad?"
"Good point, So you're sure it's sports related?"
He shook his head at me.
"No not at all, that's why I want to Halleck, he's been my doc since I was born. Screw this, just going to wear the gym clothes home. They need washed
anyway."
"Good plan; why waste the time, right?"
I think I'll just make sure Myrc gets home...when we split up after a walk home in silence, I shadowed him, and he made it home fine, even with that odd gait he picked up. Sighing with relief, I went home myself.
"Hi mom!"
"Hey son of mine, how are you?"
"I'm pretty good; but Myrc is sick. He said he'd tell his mom about it. Would you call her and make sure?"
"Sure thing, How bad is it?"
"Really really bad."
"Ok. Dinner is on the table. When you get done, finish your homework."
"Sure thing; dad home?"
"Not yet, hes working late."
"Alright."
Slightly bummed, I ate the sandwich and chips and opened my bookbag to do my homework. Not really coming out of the homework daze until dad clapped me on shoulder.
"Done yet? it's really your bedtime."
"Oh, crap...yeah I'm done, or close enough...stupid math. How was your day dad?"
"Same old same old...working late, pissing your mom off."
"Yeah I'd be afraid, haven't seen her lately. Off to bed, good luck."
I made my way to my room, picking my way through the mine field and to my bed, but sleep was a long time in coming.
So here we are again; this is the fun part. A little short, but it is what it is.
Standard disclaimer rules apply, don't hate me cause I'm beautiful, etc, etc.
(File taken from the files of X-ray, a Devisor in the employ of the CIA, obtained under the freedom of information act. Said file is to be appended to the journal mentioned above in the interest of being as thorough as possible, in the hopes that future generations will be better informed about the psychological motivations of the subjects involved.)
"Kinder to let him sleep for now." X-ray stated as the fatigue seemed to catch up to the young man he was introduced to as Myrc.
"Agreed, though how he can sleep in that thing is beyond me...a better question might be how is he not a twitching screaming mass of pain."
"Simple, he can sleep due to the fatigue; His body is experiencing a rapid transformation, fatigue is common enough in normal puberty. The second answer is the same as the first; slower puberties are typically painful off and on as growth occurs. His body is protecting him from massive amounts of pain by switching off his pain receptors; otherwise we'd have to sedate him. Quite a marvelous adaptation really, to have even partial functionality while undergoing a transformation of this magnitude this quickly. The pelvic bone reshaping alone...."
"Well...it's certainly better than some of the other options. Think we should have our talk now?"
"Certainly, no time to waste. You're free to come back in, he's asleep."
Lance corporal (retired) Archibald Campbell walked in, followed by Agent (retired) Marigold Campbell and their second son, Ian Campbell.
"Well? How bad is it?" Mary asked her two of her oldest friends.
"Definitely mutation, as you thought, and severe. Myrciels' EEG and lepton counts are insanely high. Judging by what you told me, it's all but certain he's a Devisor of considerable power. Preliminary mental stimulus tests pin his IQ at near 300. There is no telling how high it will be by the end; her brain is actually refolding or rewrinkling itself...and making the visual cortex smaller, along with the auditory system and olfactory receptors. They are already much smaller, and the excess space made is already more brain."
Archie Campbell asked; "For the record, how does that compare to you? Or most Devisors?"
"My own IQ is in the 200 range; most Devisors are a bit more, or around there. Usually it's the power itself that adds the effect; What Devisors really do as best as anyone can tell, is locally ignore certain laws of physics around them. in much the same manor of mages. As long as the explanation makes some kind of sense, the device can be created, such as Dr Arclights' anti gravity platforms or the death rays you see commonly now from just about everyone. To be honest, your child scares me. Never have I seen such strong readings, from anyone; not even the icicles."
"Careful what you say X-ray, not everyone is cleared here."
"Quite right, quite right...at any rate, her ability is scary, but is coming with its own share of problems as well."
"Wait a second;' Ian interrupted, 'you keep saying 'her'."
"Yes, getting you all used to the idea; her transformation was easy to deduce; she will be fully female by the end of the week. The real problems are medical. Most Devisors are hardly at the peak of physical health, but most have few purely physical issues. in other words, most are out of shape, if physically fit persons otherwise. Myrc's scan revealed something unusual in that respect; the beginning of an unusual form of anemia; her iron count in her blood is low, and I suspect dropping. Untreated this could lead to random loss of consciousness, coma, possibly even death, though I believe the regeneration will save her life should the condition progress that far. Treatment is easy, iron supplements, high iron diet, and potentially medication and transfusions. Oh that reminds me...here, she will need this."
He passed a box to Agent Campbell. Agent Campbell gave X-ray a hard look.
"Anything else, or should we get to the real talk we need to have?"
"One more thing; Some Devisors have a Deidricks, a form of mental illness that leads to bouts of megalomania; you'll need to watch her for the signs. You know the ones. Also most Devisors tend to enter a sort of fugue state just before they build something; Don't be alarmed if you see it. You can break them sometimes, but not
necessarily all the time. It's not advisable to break them that often anyway; there is some research to support a correlation between these states and the strength of the mutation; or Devisor gene itself. In Myrc's case, being too gung ho about breaking them could cause her harm...I just can't say yet, but it's something to be aware of."
"Noted. Now what do I need to do to insure my child is protected?"
"oddly enough, from past villains and organizations, you should be clear. Most of those type respect the 'no families' rule religiously. Only the most rabid are likely to try, and those even the villains will ostracize or seek to kill.The real issue is governments and the mutant commission office, I'd say. For those, I can and will help, and if you call in a few of your other favors, 'facial'...you should be able to keep her as safe as anyone can be on this dirtball. If all else fails, you could try Whateley."
"It's far too early to think about Whateley; Myrc is likely to be a mess physically and emotionally for some time to come, and I wouldn't send an enemy into that place unprepared, let alone one of mine. Perhaps after some time to adjust. But for now, I just want her safe from any odd disappearances. That would not do at all."
"Ahh, heard the rumors about the MCO and the rest of the alphabet soup? I've heard the same ones. Suffice it to say, 'I know a guy'. I'll call him, you call Terrance like I know you plan to, and we can get them both assigned to this case, watching each other, and know the situation will be handled correctly. Between that, the DOD, and the VEEP, we should be fine."
"Good, I'd hate to suddenly remember things I'd forgotten."
"It's too bad the lummox over there can't help."
"Careful Ray, I've kicked your ass before, I'll do it again." Archie took a threatening step.
"Yes, that will certainly help; perhaps you can also run away from this world yet again? You'd only have to leave a child behind this time."
"Ray. Stop it now."
"...Sorry Mary. I guess I'm still bitter. Any thought as to what you're going to tell them? One really needs to know a few things, and the other is currently hanging on our every word."
"As little as possible; neither know anything, and if Ian talks about anything hes heard in this room, he will live to regret it."
Ian wilted under the combined stares.
"I won't say anything, I swear. So um, Myrc's gonna be a girl?"
"Yes Ian, Myrc will be a girl soon."
"heh heh heh..."
"Archie...I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault Mary, it couldn't be helped."
"Helped, perhaps not, but we both know it's my fault nonetheless. And for that I'm sorry."
"No, none of that talk now.' Halleck spoke up; 'Only useful dialogue here. We are all agreed on this course of action? For the record I am, I think Myrc can
only benefit from the experiences to be learned in this town, and free of the stifling atmosphere of whateley."
Archie spoke up: "Yes I think we are all agreed. One other thing though; school?"
"I think it's obvious she will have to call in sick the week; it should be possible to hide her new condition by having her pose as someone else if you want."
"Calling out sick for the week is acceptable; Hiding though, is out I think. Too many have already seen just enough to put two and two together, should we try to feed someone a silly story and hope for the best. If the villagers show up with pitchforks, well, we just call Frankenstein's monster."
"Surely you don't mean..."
"Myrc is my child; if I have to I'll call the devil himself."
"Are you sure Mary? He'll be a target; a large one."
"That is what the whateley option is for; but I refuse to let a bunch of ill mannered hicks run me or mine out of town without a fight. Besides, Myrc is made of sterner stuff than most. Just a feeling I have that this is the right decision."
"OK, all agreed then. Time to wake the dreamer."
Here I am again, with yet another point of view change. These things just keep coming!
(File taken from the files of X-ray, a devisor in the employ of the CIA, obtained under the freedom of information act. Said file is to be appended to the journal mentioned above in the interest of being as thorough as possible, in the hopes that future generations will be better informed about the psychological motivations of the subjects involved.)
"Well she's out X-ray, all yours...though I'd be careful, Jeeves seems very overprotective."
"I'd expect nothing less of a devisor, really. I'll explain what I'm doing to allay his fears."
The small evaluation group filed back into the room where their machines and subject waited.
"Hello Jeeves."
"Hello X-ray."
"I'm going to start the testing apparatus now. I'll be testing Min's eyes and blood specifically in light of a few results we had last week."
"Go right ahead X-ray, but be warned I am watching you."
"On orders, right Jeeves?" Dorothy Halleck questioned.
"Correct Ma'am."
"Why?"
"Because mistress Min does not trust you X-ray."
"You're quite the piece of work Jeeves, are you supposed to be a protector?"
"I am what mistress Min requires, at all times."
Weighted looks were shared by the humans in the room.
"What does that mean exactly, Jeeves? Are you able to tell me?"
"I an unsure how to explain Mrs. Campbell. I am whatever mistress Min needs, by design. Should she need a protector, I am that. Should she need comfort, I shall give it. Should she require medical attention due to her anemia, I shall give it. Should she need a servant or require help of a more mundane sort, I will be such. In short, my mission is dynamic, and I adapt to fit the circumstance required. I know you distrust me, but I am incapable of any harm to your daughter."
"And us?"
"I'd eliminate you all to save her distress. You live through her sufferance."
"why does she trust you so implicitly?"
"Dr. Halleck, she trusts me because I was designed to seem such; I was built to specifications that would make mistress Min view me as completely trustworthy or to ignore any threat I may pose to her."
"You were designed to seem like a 'trustworthy soul' to her?"
"Correct."
"So when you altered her clothes this morning...was that a bug?"
"No Mrs. Campbell, it was what she needed."
"Heh, I thought so, you designed those clothes on purpose; you'd have had plenty of time in your hiking to our house to know that clothes like that aren't how women actually dress."
"Most women do not, correct Mrs Campbell. But mistress Min should."
"Why?"
"Princesses, queens, and empresses dress in that style or in a more strange manner...and mistress Min is very much royalty, is she not Mrs. Campbell? Now as I have answered your questions, I feel I may ask a few of my own. X-ray, why did you stare at my mistress so intently? It made her very uncomfortable."
"Fair enough; she reminded me of someone I knew in my youth."
"You choose your words carefully, don't you Jeeves?"
"I do Mrs. campbell."
"So making her wear those clothes, making her stand out; even while making her anxious, had a purpose?"
"Indeed, you are intelligent Mrs. Campbell. By making her more at ease with herself, she will be better able to focus on those pursuits that matter to her with confidence."
"So a bit of discomfort now, in order to have greater understanding later?"
"that is a fair assessment."
"Good; it means we can deal. We need to test Min to determine what she is capable of; it might cause her some discomfort, to borrow your wording. But it will give all of us, including you, a much greater idea of what she can do. Are you game to let us?"
Jeeves was silent a moment.
"I am willing."
There was a long moment of silence as everyone gathered their thoughts, punctuated only by the beeps and whirrs of the machine.
"I have a second question; Dr. Dorothy Halleck, what is your purpose here?"
"Medical and psychological Jeeves. I am a general practitioner and will be conducting an exam on Min later, because I don't trust X-ray's machines entirely. I will also try to gain rapport with her and earn her trust, so that I can help her. The last thing I want is for her to be driven insane by all of this."
"...that is acceptable."
All conversation ceased for a time, as X-ray worked to various boops and beeps, until he reached one of the last tests, and an arm shot out and crushed his
wrist in a vice; the grinding of bones could clearly be heard.
"Stop right there, X-ray. You do not need to perform another spinal tap; mistress Min's nerve endings are not dulled this time; you will cause her significant pain for results easily obtained by other tests you've already performed."
"OK, no tap, let go please!"
X-ray cradled his newly released hand and hissed, before allowing Dr. Halleck to look at it.
"dislocated. Hold on, this will hurt."
"I did warn you, X-ray."
"Yes, you did, I'm sorry. But how did you know? you've never seen this machine before! You shouldn't have any clue as to how it works."
"It is actually fairly obvious to deduce."
Jeeves then correctly pointed out the various functions of the machine one button at a time, to the amazement of all.
"You know that shouldn't be possible, unless you were a devisor yourself, right?"
"I detest repeating myself; but to clarify, I am whatever mistress Min needs."
"...Moving on. The sedative should wear off soon; then we can conduct the final parts of the test. I need to go oversee it. Dorothy, Dr. Halleck, could you escort Min to the basement for me? Mary, Could I discuss the test results with you? They should be printed in the control room from the terminal there by the time we make it down."
"Sure."
"See you later Jeeves. I'll leave you two to explain the details to him."
"Good bye for now X-ray."
X-ray led Mary Campbell down the hall, neither speaking until they made the special elevator.
"So what is it?"
"It's simple. Min scares the hell out of me."
"Really? How so?"
"You don't get it? Jeeves looks human, feels human, has a thinking process, a fully involved thinking process devised around clear goals. He is also a devisor 1 at least; Mary, the last devisor to build an android that well was a devisor 5, a guy in japan. They make anime based off his work. He NEVER made an android that could mimic his abilities. Jeeves was able to correctly deduce what my machine did and how, JUST BY LOOKING AT IT. Your child has the devisor talent stronger than anyone on record."
"...Just how strong?"
"Under our current understanding and test scales, at least a 7, and I'd be willing to bet the gadgeteer ranking matches it. I hesitate to even theorize what it might mean."
Mary slammed X-ray into the wall of the elevator.
"My daughter is no better than a 5 in both, and your official records to the CIA and MCO will both reflect that. YOU ARE NOT TO TELL ANYONE, you hear me?!?"
"I understand Mary, I wouldn't do such a thing, not to you or her. She reminds me of you when younger you know...even the hair."
Mary Campbell let her hand lengthen into a nightmarish claw.
"Just so we understand. You fuck us on this X-ray, you won't live the week. You know what I can do. Min will have as normal a childhood as possible for as long as possible, and I'll scythe through anyone to make that happen. Tell your superiors I said exactly that."
"Message received, crystal clear. Min is a 5 at most. Would you like to see the results now?"
"Of course." Hands as normal as anyone else's, Mary Campbell followed X-ray down the hall and into the control room, where they could watch the fireworks.
(The following were notes and an ancient hard drive found aboard the C.E.S Exeter during a routine sweep of uninhabited crew quarters...said notes belonged to one Samantha Frasier. Records indicate Samantha Frasier was a medic aboard the Exeter, completing two tours and then retiring with distinction. these transcripts have been included here in the interest of completing the record, in the hopes that future generations will be better informed
about the psychological motivations of the subjects involved.)
Maggie Johnson looked at the assembled throng from her position at the podium. All the high school girls from freshman to seniors were here....or so many that the no shows didn't mean anything. The cheer squad was in front of course, with the honorable Pamela Dale presiding.
She turned to her assistant in arranging this, Samantha Frasier, a frumpy looking slightly overweight sophomore that happened to be a great friend, and was almost ninja-like in her ability to stay unnoticed.
"Ready?"
Sam gave her the thumbs up from her post at her laptop, and hit a button.
Maggie tapped the microphone she'd plugged in earlier, making sure it worked in the age old fashion. She then yelled into said mic above the murmur.
"Let's get this started, OK? To start, what should we call ourselves?"
"Do we need to call ourselves anything?" Trish Jones asked, slightly clueless.
"Concerned citizens?" Lydia Sills replied.
Maggie made a show of thinking while the murmuring increased, but abruptly stopped it once the shouting started.
"I have it! The Paris Girls' association!"
"The PGA? Isn't that what the golfers are called?"
"Whatever! I declare this meeting started!"
They shut up, mercifully.
"Now as some of you may know, but not all of you, rumor has it that Myrciel Campbell has mutated...."
The murmurs and shouting started again.
"Myrc!?!? no way, what a waste...."
"Great, another one."
"How tragic!"
"SHUT UP!"
The 'conversation' stopped again.
"Rumor also has it that as a result of his mutation, Myrciel is becoming female."
This time there was awkward silence.
"that's right ladies, Myrc will soon be joining us in our bathrooms and locker room. I saw the paperwork myself. The rumors are true."
"How did you see the paperwork?"
"Um, that's really not important. What is important, is the principal has signed off on this. It's going through."
The muttering and shouting started again, this time with righteous fury evident.
"Calm down! I have a plan."
"And what kind of plan is that?" Sam asked calmly, firmly cementing her place as straight person.
"Simple. We confirm it our own way. Myrciel may well have mutated, and may well be female. Or it could be an elaborate trick. I think we need to investigate Myrc when he comes back...play a little bit of 20 questions, or similar."
Ruth White spoke up, adding a surprisingly thoughtful question to the background noise of outrage.
"What possible gain would Myrc get by lying to us about this?"
"I don't know.' Maggie replied. 'But you know about the other rumors concerning Myrc. He could be a pervert."
Ruth replied in surprisingly loud voice, shooting a scorn filled glance at Pam.
"I don't believe any of that crap."
Pam spoke up.
"I'll do it. I know a way to confirm whether Myrc is pulling a fast one or not, and I should be the one to do it anyway; none of the rest of you know him well enough."
Maggie pretended to ponder this as well. It was all going according to plan, and so easily!
"Alright, you're up. He will be coming to school Monday. Get whatever you need ready by then. Meeting adjourned. Watch out for teachers on your way out."
Maggie watched with Sam as the women of Paris high filed out of the gym, still chattering.
"I really don't think we should be doing this. It seems like a huge overreaction."
"The school may be letting a perv into our bathrooms Sam. We owe it to ourselves to be careful. Best case scenario is it's just an elaborate prank."
"Worst case?"
"Myrc did indeed mutate. You know how the boys will take it. If Myrc can't defend himself anymore...well, I don't think I'll let any girl get beaten down in school by boys, even a newly minted one. Even if shes a lesbian."
"And beaten by other girls?"
"Well, we will see. Time to go."
They packed up and left.
*******************************************************************************
(Notes indicate these are minutes from the second and final meeting.)
"How could she do that? I mean, what the hell!"
Maggie paced back and forth, obviously agitated. She turned to Sam as the others started filing in, or as many as would come during lunch.
"computer on?"
Sam nodded and Maggie turned to her audience.
"Let me be clear; What Pam did was in no way condoned by any of us, or should be. Siccing that brute on someone half his size...!"
"And the worse part is, we don't even know the truth!"
Cindi Billings shouted, apparently more upset about that then having her cheer-leading captain in hot water.
"I don't know, I think it's pretty obvious. Boys aren't that normally that small, fine featured, or busty." Ruth opined.
"Tell me about it!' Chrissy Johnson exclaimed, 'She looks like a damn doll!"
"Or a petite supermodel."
Sam dutifully cataloged the nods for the minutes; There were 13.
"Um, we do know the truth. One hundred percent." Maggie spoke up, face coloring slightly.
"Maggie, what did you do?" Ruth asked.
"I um, felt bad about how things turned out, so I helped Myrc...err Minerva, clean up. While we were in the bathroom I was rearranging her clothes and..."
"Tell me you didn't molest Myrc. Please tell me you didn't...."
She went bright red at the insinuation.
"Of course not! but I was dusting off her clothes and the urge to know just hit me all at once...so I straightened her jeans for her."
"And how does that prove anything?"
"Well um, it's kind of obvious...." Maggie hedged.
"What is?" Ruth persisted.
"The jeans are tight...."
"And?" Ruth wouldn't let it drop, even though some others were nodding now.
"SHE HAS CAMEL TOE!" Maggie shouted, then looked around the echoing gym, mortified.
She continued on in a whisper.
"there's just no way to fake that; Ive done some research, there are things called gaffes that can hide a man's weiner, but nothing that I could find that gives that unique appearance. So we have a shocked, confused and hurting girl on our hands."
"Then we don't add to it. We all owe Myrc that much." Ruth replied with a surprising amount of steel in her voice.
"But what if she's a lesbian?" Cindi piped up, the horror in her voice evident.
Samantha spoke up clearly, into the microphone itself.
"Simple; I don't care. I happen to know of at least two lesbians that already share our locker rooms with us, and haven't tried anything. Besides, She's shorter than all of us, and weighs less than 100 lbs. Pretty sure if she tries something any one of us take her."
"Agreed. If anything we close ranks around her, not the other way. Are we all agreed?"
Universal affirmation met Maggie's ears.
"Then I declare the second meeting of the PGA over, and the organization officially disbanded, it's charter fulfilled. Let's all go get lunch!"
Cheers met that declaration.
Cindi walked up to Maggie.
"How do we help Pam?"
"We don't. She went way too far. She made her bed, she can lie in it."
They all filed out, Cindi's curses not quite being caught by Sam's laptop microphone.
Note: this text is a copy of a transcript from an unknown source, possibly a psychiatric visit, by one Richard Tanner. For further information on the relevance to this document to history, refer to document 1634-D.
Life was beyond strange; you skated through, doing what you could, learning and fighting and sweating and bleeding, when all of a sudden something so random, so beyond the ordinary happened and you were left picking up the pieces and wondering how any of what had come before could have even been a problem.
Take me, for example; I was in love with my best friend.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not gay. Not that there is anything wrong with that, it's just I'm not one of those types. I like girls, the hotter the better. My best friend was the same way, or at least I think so. Some of the things I've seen since made me question those earlier events. But that doesn't matter.
We ended middle school friends, thick as thieves, playing basketball and creating havoc together; nothing really bad, just some neighborhood pranks like moving holiday decorations to different houses or using walkie-talkies to mess with people. Kid stuff.
When Myrc and I hit high school, we were determined to take the place by storm, to conquer the little kingdom and be the big shots. I had my eye on a little cutie that had filled out over the summer, and Myrc and Pam were well on their way to cementing themselves as the new crop of school stars, and the new golden couple; it almost seemed fated.
Then somehow, in less than a week, Myrc became a hot girl. A chick in more ways than one; small and fragile seeming, delicate with bones that reminded me of a birds, and a face and body that absolutely had to be the envy of all women everywhere. The exotic hair and eye color probably shouldn't work at all, should probably lessen the effect... but did the opposite. My friend the Irish spitfire was still in there, I could see him when he yelled defiance to Gordo or talked rapid fire about things I couldn't hope to understand; but it was hard to remember what was in the box when the wrapping was so damn gorgeous.
Seeing her work on her dad's car without even a clue, bent over and clearly showing me that perfect derriere while kicking her feet only made her the sweeter, as well as added fuel to the fire of doubt; she had no idea what effect she had on guys, at all. Had she ever known what true physical attraction was, as a guy? She had talked a good game as Myrc, but I wasn't so sure anymore.
It didn't matter now anyway.
I wanted to badly just to grab her and kiss her until I passed out from lack of air; but what would that do to us? So far she was still my friend, a good friend, and I could see she wanted things to stay that way. But I couldn't help wanting more.
What I settled for was going to see the new garage lab my newly brainy best friend rated... and maybe ask her to the Halloween dance coming up. Of course, there was no shortage of competition; even if some in the school hated mutants just for living, even if some were put off by the fact that she used to be a guy, there were still plenty of jerks lined up around the block and waiting to ask her out.
I had to protect her from that; she wasn't ready for the deluge of hormone-addled idiots.
And the worst of the lot was her new hang out pal, Ralph. I know I screwed up, it's hard to just hang out around someone so gorgeous and control myself for any length of time, she just makes everything so confusing – but that was why I knew what Ralph was after and what he was thinking. He was thinking, 'Myrc was always nice to me, and now she's Min and hot, and we're both mutants; match made in heaven!'
He had actually had the nerve to confront me in school the second day – or was it the third? That Min attended as Min. You want the story? Fine.
So I'm walking down the halls between classes, to Algebra. I'm running late and Ralph stops me in the hall, walks right up and checks me, and has the gall to say:
“Min needs a friend, not a boyfriend. Stop dicking around and be there for her.”
And he walks off. Like I don't know that; how could I not know that? I just mentioned it to you a few minutes ago. And I couldn't just pound him or I'd be late to class. Tougher than me? Sure he is, but that won't stop me at all; I won't just let people walk all over me.
Anyway, so I go to class, and the first thing I hear is Ralph is hanging around Min. The little hypocrite never used to do that before, and it's pretty obvious what he wants, and is thinking. But I have to be careful because Min is a gentle person and doesn't want her friends getting hurt. So if I pound Ralph, she will not be happy with me. If I do it and lie about it, then she will eventually find out, and the fallout will be even worse.
So for now I'm stuck with him.
So what do you think? Should I ask her to the Dance or not?
I guess you're right. Worst thing that can happen is she says no. And if I do it and she says yes, that stops the sharks from circling.
…............................
(The following is a recording from an unknown source.)
People are often stupid. I remember when I mutated; everyone started treating me differently, or just avoiding me outright. This town is pretty tolerant to mutants, as places go; I've traveled, I know. Let most people know you're a mutant, and its shock followed by fear. Here, you only get some of that; from a good portion of the population you get a shrug and a muttered 'so what?'
Myrc was one of the good ones. The best one, in fact. He'd still play basketball with me, knowing how much of an advantage I had. He would hang out if he had nothing better to do; I wasn't his best bud, but he didn't ever go out of his way to avoid me. Out of the many people I wished would manifest so they would know just how it felt, he was last on my list. Which is of course, why he is the one who actually did; Murphy's law.
Out of all of the people I would gleefully leave hung out to dry... well Myrc wasn't even near that list.
Minerva is... she's a force of nature and a bright light, all rolled into one; to my vision she shines like a little sun, all spots of activity swirling in her brain while fervently working on things I had no hope at all of understanding. Why are you asking me all this, anyway? My sight and what it does are on record with your people, and as for Min, you should leave her alone. Trust me on this.
Anyway, I well understand how it is being a freshly manifested mutant. All you want is normal, or as normal as you can get, and all you get is people's shunning fear or worse. Which is why even though I can sort of understand why Ricky would be doing what he was, since Min was a flame and he was very much a moth, but she didn't need any of that noise. She was in fact confused by it; she needed her best friend back.
And since I had never been that before, I couldn't really be that for her now. No, of course I don't want to be; but who better to understand her than me? She wants normal. She isn't very athletic anymore, and she's already been attacked once. I can take care of her; mutants need to stick together. I trusted Jeeves because Min did, but he might not be as effective as she hopes. And he wasn't allowed in the school anyway.
I should be the one to ask her to the dance.
I wasn't Ricky, so I didn't have that awkward factor he did, and we had always gotten along before while being distant enough for it not to matter. I wasn't like the others, all bigoted and cruel, and I wasn't the friend she wanted in Ricky. It made perfect sense... but Ricky is going to blow it; I'm sure of that.
…...........
The two met at lunch, well away from the other students. She hadn't shown up for school today, so now was the perfect time. Worry aside, this needed to be settled now. He was glad Min hadn't made it to school today; it would have made dodging her for this much harder; at the very least, her watchers would have seen something, despite the secluded nature of the spot chosen. He nodded to his counterpart.
“Ricky.”
An answering nod, and his name in greeting.
“Ralph.”
He had to ask.
“So, you ready for this?”
“Bring it. I'm not scared of you.”
He had to admit, that lack of fear was respectable. It was likely one of the things that originally drew Min to Ricky.
“Alright; here it comes.”
They launched at each other, fists flying.
He was stronger, but he couldn't go all out of he'd actually injure the other boy. Ricky had no such limitations, and had hard won experience. In the end, it was more a tie than anything, even though Ralph could probably force the issue if he wanted.
They slumped down, back to back. Ricky spoke first between deep rasping gasps.
“This don't change anything. I'm still going to ask her.”
There was only one thing to say to that.
“Stubborn ass. You want to ruin your friendship I won't stop you. I'll be asking her too.”
“May the best man win?”
He nodded, helping Ricky up.
“May the best man win.”
They both limped off in opposite directions by mutual unspoken understanding, as a way to squelch the rumor mill.
I feel the urge to laugh maniacally as I post this.
A.R.N.E.E (Autonomic Robotic Nanotechnology Experimental Engine) powered up from sleep mode at 7:46:23 am local time on Saturday, October 14th, 2006. Immediately according to programming, it ran its' diagnostic checklist and checked its solar cells. All systems reported green, and the solar cells were fully saturated with morning sunlight.
Next order was to scan it's surroundings. So it did, noting it was outside its' primary users (I.E. masters' window, on the roof of 118 North Cedar, Paris county, Paris. Running a short shakedown of its legs, it then proceeded to walk carefully to the edge of the roof while pirating a quick internet connection through WIFI it downloaded a local aerial view through Google maps, finding that while there were no primary matches to locations it had been programmed to seek out present, there was a suitable secondary location only 3.8214 miles from its' current position.
A large hook suitable for Sword fishing popped from its' housing in ARNEE's posterior, attached to a spool of fishing line designated for similar use. Still devoting most computation cycles to planning its' route, it devoted exactly 4 cycles per second to tamping the hook into the rough surface of the roof tile with a posterior slam (it sat down on it) then tested the hook's dig and the line itself with a tug. Once it was sure the line was secure it jumped, using a hidden razor next to the spool in order to cut it precisely 5.184 feet down, as calculated (so as not to leave a trail readily visible to most humans, as per directive 8).
Its' camera lens (the remains of a Nikon digital camera) and infrared sensor (from a video camera) scanned the world around it for threats, absently (a mere 2 cycles per second) cataloging the material rich environment it had been made to create in. the grass did not interest it at all excepting as a potential obstacle or camouflage, and was dismissed. The wooden fence however, was an immediate obstacle flag. The map suggested...there! to the right, a break in the wall called a 'gate', open, leading to a 'street'. Carefully scanning for humans and threats, once again directive 8, ARNEE made its way out to the sidewalk, finding the even surface to it's liking, it deployed RC car wheels and set speed at a careful 14kph (courtesy of directive 6).
Visual scans did not reveal many humans out at this time, and those that were were behind metal shapes identified as 'cars' and 'trucks'. A possible source for the supplies ARNEE was directed to find, but mobile and too spread out to be of immediate use.
Not having been programmed to avoid any other life form, exactly, pending threat assessment, ARNEE did not, leaving a trail of hissing cats, barking dogs, and spooked squirrels in its' wake as it spun and maneuvered with the precise grace of a racing champion...At least till it met Rex.
Rex was the first unchained dog ARNEE had met, and he stepped in ARNEE's path, a large Rottweiler concerned about the strange thing invading his turf. ARNEE, noting the size, formidable natural weapons, and musculature, decided Rex was a potential threat and at a mere 3 feet away initiated subroutine 1 of directive 8; avoidance.
Displaying more of that amazing control that would make a car proud, ARNEE promptly stopped on a dime (literally...one was there, it noted), executed a straight 90 degree turn to the right into the road, and once again started forward momentum, cycling speed up to 30 kph, or half throttle, it spun on its' axis while keeping forward momentum, to scan behind it.
Rex was of course, following, thinking ARNEE would make either a nice treat, or play partner. Thus began the first real incident in AI/dog relations. It did not take long for the sounds of panting to come into auditory sensor range. Deciding that 30 kph was not fast enough, and based on data accumulated decided it had 122.4 yards before the predator caught up; ARNEE came to the conclusion to tax its' motors and nudged his speed up to 45 kph, resetting scan frequency to avoid any accidents with other moving objects and rejecting the idea of stealth entirely, but keeping to the road in order to further discourage pursuit.
Motorists that morning were treated to the sight of a small powder blue blur, whirring around, under, in some cases jumping on top of their vehicles like a demented figure skater on speed being chased by a large silent rottweiler (Rex had long since given up barking in favor of breathing). The foreign object left a vague spider like impression on the shocked populace, and then in the next second it was gone.
Poor Rex was not overjoyed; He did not have the mobility to skate around the cars, and so lost sight of his new playmate rather quickly. ARNEE on the hand, beeped victory as it skated on. Reconfirming directive 8, he angled off the road into a convenient set of hydrangea bushes. Reconfirming directive 6 brought it's dwindling power reserves to attention; luckily it was 22.438 minutes ahead of schedule in its' assignment, not counting the estimated 3 hours given to locating a suitable location for itself.
This meant of course, that directive 9 could be applied, and ARNEE wasted no time scanning a suitable location to hide and deploy it's solar cells. Luckily no one saw the rose bush in front of the Jones's outlandishly over manicured home magically grow a solar cell array. ARNEE estimated it needed a charge time of roughly 4.23 hours of charging to hit full capacity, but only 42.18 minutes to re reach the point where reserves would be acceptable. It decided on the latter option, as it knew the later the time, the more likely the chance of discovery. It had been programmed so by it's watching of the discovery channel during construction.
Luckily for the canny explorer, none came to disturb its' sleep mode power gathering. Thus at exactly 42.18 minutes later ARNEE chirped awake, took stock again, and once again saw all indicators in the green. Being even more cautious this time, ARNEE peeked around every corner before sprinting to every bit of cover.
A very slow 19.23 minutes later ARNEE was outside his destination with no further mishaps en route. The aptly named Paris junkyard, complete with a mini Eiffel tower out of rusted iron girders. ARNEE might have been surprised that it shared a certain lack of appreciation for the sight; considered an eyesore by the populace at large, all ARNEE saw was a waste of resources.
Unfortunately, to properly use those resources ARNEE had to make it past the rather large and sturdy chain link fence. Motoring around and scanning the obstacle, It detected no convenient holes. Lacking the necessary tools to dig ARNEE decided that even though that digging was the easier option, it would have to cut its way through. Choosing an area of high molecular degradation due to age, which also happened to be rather far from the gate and therefore less visible. ARNEE deployed its' tiny laser, origanally from an old toy and juiced with a small argon chamber to give it the necessary cutting power. A few small cuts and the laser was expended, but the job was complete and ARNEE squeezed through the oblong hole it created, silently creeping on its legs with wheels
retracted, as the terrain was unsuitable.
ARNEE used a combination of directive 8 and 11 to determine the next move. He headed for a nearby rusted hulk of a semi, hiding under it for a moment, sending furtive scans in all directions. After a long moment in which tumbleweeds could drift, had they been so inclined, ARNEE used the left front wheel rim to climb into the engine block.
Finding the near claustrophobic space filled with metal, rubber, plastics, and other wonderful materials, ARNEE settled in to begin phase 2.
Magic has always existed in human society. Throughout all of our history, it has been used to explain the unexplainable. From Gods driving chariots across the sky, to witches 3 influencing kingdoms, magic has always been at the root of it all. Real or imagined, it has played a role in our very lives and psyches since we as a species started walking upright and chipping stone for tools. Which is why the events of the latter half of December 2011, while thoroughly shocking, shouldn't have actually surprised anyone.
Nagrij
Magic has always existed in human society. Throughout all of our history, it has been used to explain the unexplainable. From Gods driving chariots across the sky, to witches 3 influencing kingdoms, magic has always been at the root of it all. Real or imagined, it has played a role in our very lives and psyches since we as a species started walking upright and chipping stone for tools. Which is why the events of the latter half of December 2011, while thoroughly shocking, shouldn't have actually surprised anyone.
December 26, 2011.
After another disheartening Christmas in which none of my friends cared to invite me to their festivities, and my family still hated me. I sat on the edge of the Murango bridge, staring over into the garbage laden Mississippi river below, pondering what a shit-fest my life was.
Sorry, didn't introduce myself...my name is Fuyuki Yamamoto, known as Fu to what few friends I have. I am an American of Japanese descent; my grandparent's emigrated from japan after the second world war, enduring quite the figurative enema to make the USA their new home. My parent are both Americans of Japanese descent also, named Arisu (my mom)and Hideki (my dad) respectively. While the rest of my family could speak and read Japanese quite easily, I could not...mainly because I was an idiot.
I didn't mean I wasn't smart, far from it. I was what my parents called 'a lazy leaf'...I didn't know where I wanted to fall, just drifting in the breeze. I was 30, a graduated jobless art major, who only now was realizing that I should have done what my parents asked and majored in medicine or law instead. Art just did not pay the bills. I mean sure, I'd sold some things at art fairs and the like, but the lack of recognition was meaning more ramen then pizza lately, and the debts were beginning to hit. I couldn't even score a teaching job at my old Alma mater.
All that wouldn't be so bad, except for one thing...the job market blew soft gooey green chunks. So penniless, alone unless the bottle of cheap red wine counted, I settled down on the bridge, contemplating life and the turgid waters below. At least, until a shout broke the silence.
"No, you mustn't! you need to live!"
A small missile of silk and flesh slammed into me, knocking me to my side and away from the edge. The back of my head collided with the stone bridge and I saw stars a moment. As soon as I regained sense I saw what hit me...a woman, dark brown hair, a classic face, and a body built for sin, both just starting to show their age. I'd guess her to be around 40...definite MILF material, dressed in a maroon silk body wrap, that shimmered when she moved. Kind of odd clothes for the middle of winter, come to think of it.
"I wasn't really thinking of jumping miss..." I didn't see a ring, why not flatter her if I can?
"Call me Betty."
"OK Betty, I'm Fu, and I wasn't really considering suicide. Just drinking my problems away for a bit."
"You can't lie to me, you were thinking thoughts of death."
OK, so a crazy person; great. Just what I need while working on a drunk.
"Betty, I was thinking of faking my own death for a moment, but I wasn't serious. Let's just say I'm not in the best financial situation at the moment and leave it at that, OK?"
"I might be able to help you, if you want to."
"To do what, fake my death?"
"Yes. All you need to do is come with me."
She was a stranger, she was crazy, she was hot, and I was drunk with nothing really to lose. The decision was an easy one.
"I warn you, if you are leading me into a mugging, all you'll get is pocket lint."
"I'm not here to mug you. In fact, your world's continued survival may depend on you and you alone. I'm here to help you."
"You realize you sound crazy, right?"
She didn't reply, instead pulling me into the darkened park.
"I found him, lieutenant."
Looming shapes materialized out of the copse of trees; painted faces, camoflage, assault rifles of some type, and night vision goggles. I took a step back.
"Um, I don't have any money guys."
"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security."
"...what?" I looked closer, seeing no markings to denote rank or nationality, even though the guy speaking was obviously American.
"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security." The guy behind him started talking into a headset.
"What am I in for? Using lead based paint?"
"I'm not at liberty to say sir."
I began to hear a chopper approaching. I looked at Betty, seeing a rather happy smirk on her face.
"Well...this is awkward. Don't suppose you guys want to talk to me at all, do you?"
"Not really sir."
"want to tell me what's going on Betty?"
"I can't yet Fu, I'm sorry. But relax, you are in no danger. In fact, these people are here to protect you."
I looked again. Only two members of this...team? Were facing me; there were at least 4 people that I saw facing outward, weapons not quite pointing outward, but ready for deployment in a second.
"Protect me from what? Rogue AL Queda wanting me to paint propaganda?"
The chopper came into view, a big black affair with used to transport troops unless I missed my guess.
"Just come with us sir, I'm sure the boss will explain it to you."
The lieutenant led me back to the trail, where a basket of the type used in air rescues dropped down from the chopper. Following his motions, I climbed in
and he belted me to it. He gave the line a tug, and it started reeling up. A helmeted guy helped me into the chopper and unbelted me, sending the basket down again.
"Please belt yourself in sir, we will be away momentarily."
I did so, watching as the team was brought up in the basket, 2 at a time. Last of all was Betty herself, spryly stepping off the basket with grace and a smile, and belting herself next to me. She took my hand in both of hers, seeming to will me to make eye contact with her.
"It'll be alright, I promise."
Oddly enough, I believed her.
Here we are again, a small chapter, but they break where they break. Hopefully this explains away most of the obvious questions...standard disclaimers apply of course.
The weather in Washington D.C. was rather chilly, suiting the rain that drizzled disconsolately down upon the capitol of the strongest country in the world. The perfectly manicured lawn was slick and windswept, providing treacherous footing for the security details as they patrolled. The city itself was fairly quiet, for one of those types of cities that never sleeps.
That is, until the wind started changing direction, loaded with a bright blue green glow and the sound of static discharge. The glow resolved into a large jagged tear, and a scene of jagged rock and searing sun resolved itself within, more hot wind blowing from the tear itself, stirring miniature tornadoes amongst the now abused grass.
From this tear stepped a gorgeous woman, clad in a maroon silk body wrap that did little to conceal generous curves, she looked around curiously, taking in the sights while ignoring the tear she had just stepped though as it collapsed behind her. The calm returned to the night almost immediately, the wind resuming it's normal course...though the grass was now scarred almost beyond recognition, and there still remained a faint scent of ozone in the air.
Stepping around the dying dust devils, the woman attempted to reach the large estate known to all of earth as the white house. She only made it 6 steps however, when she was surrounded by bleak looking men and women in suits pointing very large guns at her head. She put her hands up meekly and asked:
"Take me to your leader."
I turned from the closed circuit television displaying the security tape of last week to Betty with a gimlet stare.
"I can't believe you actually said that, that's like the worst cliche ever."
"True, but it worked, didn't it?"
"So what does this prove, exactly? Looks like an elaborate set up to me. I mean the entire situation spells Hollywood cliche."
Betty smiled. "You're exactly right, but in this case, that does not make it any less real. You do understand though, a hopeful sign."
"Not sure I understand anything; this footage could be faked."
"Come with us, sir." The lieutenant commanded from his position at the doorway.
"Where to?"
"Orders were to see you understood the situation, so we go outside."
I followed the entire team along quietly through the white house, and out to the lawn, Betty trailing us all. The magical mystery tour ended at a patch of grass burned in a ragged line; I looked and it matched the location the old video footage showed me.
"All this proves is that you guys cross your eyes and dot your t's in your scams...though why you'd want to scam me is beyond me."
"Look behind you sir."
I looked, and there was Betty...with a glowing ball of lightning in her hand.
"Back away please Fu, they are fairly adamant I don't leave more scorch marks."
Suppressing my curiosity, which wanted me to run up and see what the trick was, I backed away and waited.
"You know, you're the first one to actually hint at the need for a demonstration." Betty said conversationally as she opened another tear in space like the one that I no longer doubted took place here a week before. Once again the wind rushed before my face as the portal expanded; hot as the desert badlands depicted on the other side and...was that a city in the distance? Betty cautiously approached it, and her head disappeared, appearing on the other side as part of the scene, looking around almost as if afraid.
"Should we be worried?"
"Nope!' she replied cheerily. 'They haven't found the spot yet. We are safe for now."
"They?"
"The people we need your help with. My people. Obviously, we are mages from an alternate universe...and they are coming here to conquer, same old shtick. I came here to warn your people."
"...Obviously. So why, if you're all mages, are you wanting our crappy planet? You have your own."
"Well we pretty much destroyed ours; you know how it goes, ultimate power leading to the grubbing after more power, a short sighted point of view, planetary destruction, et cetera. Pretty much the same road you lot are headed towards, just slower."
"Human nature? You are a type of human aren't you?"
"Perceptive; I am a type of human of course, from one of many alternate universes layered next to yours. The irony is in where you come in Fu. I'm here to help your people, by teaching you all how to be as silly, ruthless, and powerful as we are."
"That sounds like the best plan ever...but I guess it's better than trying to rely on tanks versus someone who can simply open a tear in space and send them to another planet. For starters I assume."
Betty nodded. "I'm not very strong by my peoples standards, really, or I'd stop them myself and you'd never have seen me."
"So you need us. So how does this magic thing work? All universes have it?"
"As I understand it, yes. though it differs from alternate reality to alternate reality." Following a gesture from our resident special forces team leader, we started heading back inside.
"The way it works is simple. Belief. Throughout the history of humanity regardless of which reality they call home, there are legends. Myths, real people who led amazing lives, fantastical stories that are dreamt up and just take root. For whatever reason these...we call them archetypes of humanity get seeded into the collective unconscious of a people...and belief or thought itself has power. then sooner or later, something happens in that reality; some sort of watershed event that opens everything up."
"How?"
"We never really found out how. Maybe you guys will...because your event is just under week away, and my people plan to take advantage of the distractions provided by several of your people awakening your latent magic and invading."
"So what form will this event take?" I asked as we made it back inside...it was odd, I hadn't seen a single reporter or paparazzi.
"Well it differs world to world; my people thought it was due to the humans on the planet reaching critical mass...so many just believed in the odd and strange that the odd and strange simply started happening. However, your global population is already past where that happened for us. So...no clue. you'll have to ask your scientists when it happens."
"Not the science buff, huh?"
"No, not really."
I turned to the lieutenant. "Got the egg head team assembled yet?"
"We are working on it, sir. Priority was given to assembling people like yourselves first."
Wow, a legitimate answer...I did not expect that.
"People like me? Artistically inclined, dreamer types? Voted those most likely to become one of Betty's archetypes?"
"According to her sir, yes."
"there is also a way to control the process, making sure that it happens.' Betty chimed in. 'Which is why you are here. I know you will develop power according to the legends of your people. I can at least partially control what form it takes, and make you more powerful...if you'll help defend your world from my people."
"So who is in charge of this little project, and how black is it?"
"The department of defense sir, and it's as black as you think it is."
"Well that explains the media blackout?"
"Exactly sir."
"Then I think I need to speak to the boss."
"Boss, sir?"
"The one you have waiting in the wings to take questions from me and the others you guys are abducting."
He changed directions.
"Right this way sir."
This is all too easy...scripted, most definitely. But maybe more? I searched Betty's face for hints. What could she really do? Just make gates, or more?
"So why do I need your help? From your words, this is going to happen anyway. What do you mean more powerful?"
"Well not all legends and myths are created equal. For example, we have a legend on our planet of Heracles; you do too perhaps?"
"He's commonly called Hercules here if we are thinking of the same guy. Greek half god right?" She nodded.
"Yes...know who he was based on, who came before him?"
"Uh....no."
"Exactly. Would you rather be Heracles, or that guy that almost no one knows about, who is also a legend and in your collective thoughts, just far less powerful."
"OK, I see your point. Especially with a war coming, I'd much rather be one of the haves."
"Haves? Not familiar with that term."
"So your world is close, but not entirely like ours, huh? The full term is, haves and have nots...as in, those who have the power, and those who don't, and are run over by said power."
"Ahh, I see. Yes, good attitude, but don't carry it too far; my people did, to the detriment of all."
That was the last word as we made it to a conference room; my escort stopped and let Betty and I in first, following after.
This conference room was just the wrong side of huge, with a soulless feel and bad decor. It was also filled with people...some 50 or so sitting down at the table, and many many soldiers looking like my escort lining the walls. Perhaps a small team for each person? Betty pointed me at one of the few empty chairs and we joined the conversation already in progress.
"You have all met Betty, and you have all seen the security footage; even if you doubt the threat is real, can any of you afford to take the chance? We are talking about a possible extinction event for the American people, and perhaps the world."
The graying yet still imposing man seated at the front of the mahogany table stated, before getting interrupted by a rather irate looking frumpy brunette with a face that could curdle milk and a voice to match:
"But that's just the point! How can we trust that witch's word for anything? For all we know, this very gathering starts the apocalypse! She could be gathering us for her people to slaughter en masse, and end resistance before it begins, under the guise of friendship! She..."
The 'lady' slowed her rant as the object of her tirade came into her view.
"Yes, yes, I warned you of a threat my people represent to destroy you, when I could just have easily let nature take it's course and...destroy you. Does anyone doubt how effective the gate I used is? Perhaps when troops or a bomb is sent through it without any warning? But you don't need to take my word for it, all you need to do is wait."
Time to jump right in an add my 2 cents.
"What I'd like to know is, if you can gate here, why can't they? Why are they waiting till we undergo this 'event' you spoke of?"
"Well, there are a few reasons Fu. One, the type of power I wield is one of a kind. I see multiple futures, and can react to them. My people don't know I'm here, or even what world they can link to in a week; they will be doing it blind without my guidance. Secondly, without the event, you are both much more prepared even when surprised, and much harder to gate to as a world. Why waste resources and power you don't have to waste, when you can simply wait a week and fall upon an unsuspecting world in global chaos?"
"That makes sense...I'd bet you're missed on your planet already."
"Oh, I'm sure I am."
"So, why come to the US? Why not another country?" a middle aged bespectacled man asked, rubbing a hand across his thinning blonde hair. By the looks of his cheap, rumpled suit, a salary drone who hadn't slept in days.
"Isn't the answer to that obvious Conrad? The USA is the strongest country on this world, and I can't be everywhere at once. You are also the country most likely to help anyone in need on your own planet, for little to no ulterior motives or gain. Who better to defend the world in quick order while a global resistance is formed and mounted?"
"Does that mean you're only helping us? I mean if you say I'm going to be strong, I know this guy in Sweden who might as well be my twin brother in attitude."
A third speaker, a young man with dirty black hair, a gaunt frame and glazed eyes chipped in.
"I will of course make exceptions as time allows to gather the best other countries have to offer. but you shouldn't expect too many others to join you here in time. Expect that what you see here is it, and plan accordingly. Which reminds me, enough rest. I need another chopper and team Mr. Mcgonacgal."
I knew I'd seen that guy! the sec/def himself, Harry Mcgonacgal. A real hawk as I recall.
"Take them, they are waiting. Sure you don't need rest?"
"I'll sleep on the way. By the way, the next chopper you scramble will have engine problems and blow up somewhere over the Atlantic...might want to tell your people to pull it and go with the next one on rotation."
"I'll make a note of it."
"Later all, have a fun time."
She departed with a wink and a blown kiss. Sigh, Bet she was a real partyer...maybe after all this I'd get the chance to find out. But for now, I turned back to this collection of motley souls, studying them and in turn being studied.
"So is it safe to say we are all on board with the current plan? To humor Betty and act like this 'event' will come to pass? You're all on board to potentially face this threat and save the human race?"
I held up my hand.
"Sir, I'm all for helping the human race, but if I might presume to speak for at least some of us...what's in it for us? You're asking us to give up our jobs, lives, and potentially die for the cause....all well and good, but I'd rather not be living under a bridge in the meantime."
He frowned at me...which was a rather unnerving sight to be honest, though I don't think I let it show. Everyone else seemed to be holding their collective breath; was I really the first one to bring this up?
"You will of course be paid for your services...Fu, was it?"
"Fuyuki, sir. No offense to the soldiers present, but If I'm supposed to be more destructive than the soldiers here are, I want more pay...and I want it
in writing. Our current administration has a distressing tendency to be forgetful sometimes."
I was wrong, he'd only looked mildly displeased before....NOW he was frowning. Visions of ending up sunk in a river somewhere danced in my head. But bravely
I pressed on.
"For example, the Abrams main battle tank...is 44 million dollars, and costs quite a bit in terms of fuel, support staff, and parts to maintain. And from listening to Betty, we are all going to be more flexible, and more powerful than one of those. So why not cut the requisite number of tanks...and pay us that money instead? Sounds like a bargain to me."
We stared each other down for a long, pregnant moment. He broke the contest first, looking around the table at the other faces present in the room, then back to me.
"Provided this pans out as expected, I have no problem paying you a reasonable fee for your service..and the cost and maintenance of an Abrams battle tank might be fair considered fair, if this all happens as Betty has explained....AND you all stay loyal American citizens, ready to pitch in to help mom and apple pie. Otherwise you will be fairly compensated for time wasted on a fool's errand. I'll have some accountants draw up the contracts. I assume you all want one?"
General nods of assent met that question.
"Good. Now I have work to do. The kitchen has food ready if you're hungry; you're all invited to stay and explore. Your teams of course, will escort you to prevent any misunderstandings. You'll be driven to a hotel come nightfall, where you'll all be staying, together with your teams."
"Afraid of another Betty?"
he paused again.
"We like to cover all eventualities. Excuse me." The door slammed behind him.
A general murmur burst out behind me, exclamations of shock and joy erupting as the stoic soldiers looked on.
"I can't believe it, before you came that stuffed shirt was basically feeding us the 'for the good of all' line and acting as if we should be pleased to martyr ourselves! You actually stared him down!"
I turned to spy a blonde bombshell I vaguely recognized as one of those magazine fashion models, all busty and borderline anorexic looking.
"Yeah, I am all for patriotism, just not the blind kind, ms..?"
"Oh sorry, where are my manners? Holly Summers. I'm a model."
"You sure are, I remember your name now. Sorry." This lady redefined vapid. So interesting noting who was picked by fate...and to wonder why.
"I mean, the nerve of that jerk, pulling me right off my gig...I make more money there than he does in a year! Fair compensation my ass!"
"I'm sure there is no fair compensation for your ass Ms. Summers...but if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to see the white house before they kick me out."
"Ha! you're funny! Mind company?" Think fast, think fast...
"I don't, but I'm pretty sure our escorts would get in the way of each other."
"Ugh, you're right, damn gestapo...."
"See you later." I left before I could get ambushed by someone else.
Once safe outside the door, I turned to my escort.
"So lieutenant...looks like we will be seeing a lot of each other; your thoughts?"
"First of all sir, it's captain Harris...we ran short of lieutenants for this little farce. Second of all sir, I'm paid to follow orders. The fact that I think you're an ass, holding America's well being hostage for financial gain, does not matter. I will do my job."
"Well captain, sorry for the mistake, if you'd wear rank insignias I'd have a chance, though I understand that in your line of work it's optional. Are you a family man Captain? Is family important to you?"
he looked wary.
"Yes sir."
"Good, we can understand each other then. So am I. I'm dirt poor captain, and in debt up to my eyeballs. My parents, brother and sister make a decent living, but not enough to pay my bills if I die...they may not be able to afford anything at all, and my sister has kids on the way. Chances are, the casualties for this little merry band is going to be high as the crap piled in this city, as since I understand it, we are to buy time by rapidly responding to any gates, correct?"
"Yes sir."
"So if I ask for what a tank costs and is maintained for per day...and die in one day, all my bills will be paid, as well as my family taken care of. At least provided we win, and America survives."
His look softened a bit, and gained a measure of respect.
"Yes, sir."
"Now, you been here before?"
"No, sir."
"Then let's enjoy ourselves, shall we?"
Well I know it's not the chapter everyone is waiting for with baited breath, but it's what you get. Fu is rather insistent, and a fuming Min is someone I can better deal with (she can't really beat me up!) So we continue Archetypes, now from an undisclosed location that is actually disclosed.
The white house was a bit underwhelming, and entirely too touristy for my taste...at least the parts I was allowed in. There was the awe inspiring sense of history, of "Lincoln was here", but there was also the inescapable fact of "this is how it is now", that did much to ruin the mystique. I never did ask, but I think the majority of my escort felt the same.
"Alright captain, what now? Do we whistle for our ride?"
"Well sir, about an hour ago we received word of a change in plans. The four star hotel stay has been cancelled; instead you're all about to take a trip to West Virginia."
"What? Damn was kind of looking forward to the mini bar. What's in West Virginia?"
"The Greenbriar resort."
"Oooo, even better, bet they got a full bar."
"No word on that sir; Chopper is this way."
We made it out to the yard, where a succession of helicopters I recognized as hueys were hovering, one on the south lawn. As we approached that one took off, and another landed.
"That's our ride sir." Let's go!" The captain took the lead, running hunched over as people are wont to do; I followed his example.
We all piled in, and the captain took the time to strap a parachute onto me, which of course I had no clue how to use really, other than the usual 'pull the cord and pray'. We were joined by the mousey looking bespectacled man who spoke up during the conference and his escort. They strapped him in a chute as well and we were off.
"Nervous? You look green."
"I don't do so well with flying; especially flying in loud helicopters with open doors!" He yelled back at me.
"Name is Fu; what's yours?"
"Chris."
"Pleased to meet you."
Since all the noise wasn't conducive to prolonged conversation, I settled back and decided to wait it out. After at most an hour, we passed over a small town and began to lower; looking around I could see the other helicopters of the same type (which had been out of sight for the trip) , lifting off or hovering. Seems someone in charge actually valued us.
Once the chopper set down, I was unclipped and all but thrown through the door before I could react in any meaningful way. With my team clustered around me we broke for what appeared to be a small one story ranch house, as the chopper lifted off behind us.
"No way that house can take us all. So what's under it?"
The captains' response was a smirk as he led me inside, his squad actually taking up positions and staring away at the surrounding field as if someone would come popping out of it any minute.
"Beginning to think you guys are entirely too high strung."
No response as I was led deeper into the house...to a closet door. The captain opened the door...to an elevator. A heavily reinforced looking one, if looks were any judge, and large enough to hold us all, if we were very close."
"How positively cliche. So what is this?"
"Enter the elevator please, sir."
I entered of course, followed by my escort...standing room only. I felt for the female in our merry band, she was likely getting groped. Then again, she looked tough, so maybe not. I made sure my hands didn't wander, of course.
After about a 5 minute ride, the elevator stopped abruptly, tossing us all against each other, and the doors opened, spilling us out.
"Well that ride could have been smoother. Sorry to anyone I inadvertently hurt."
"No problem sir."
We all extricated ourselves and I stared down a hallway about 3 feet wide, made all of concrete. It sloped slightly downward, and was lit with bare bulbs as far as I could see. Almost at the range of my eyes, the hall forked left.
"This way sir."
"Knew that, only one hall after all."
"You're a smart-ass, sir."
"He led me down the hall of course, off the left branch, where marked doors started appearing to my right. Barracks, operations, communications. Another barracks and the hall forked again, this time to the right. 2 guard rooms on either side then the hall was filled with plain but sturdy doors as far as I could see. My beloved captain led me to room number 26, and opened it, gesturing me inside.
Inside was a suite; only way to describe it. A room larger than my entire apartment with an entertainment center (even if the television was outdated), large leather couch, mini bar, and a kitchenette off to my left. to the rear was another door, much less sturdy. I crossed the thick russet carpet and opened it as my escort spread out. A bedroom, I believe the word was 'sumptuously' appointed. A canopy bed, in royal purple, with matching mahogany bureau and nightstand. An open door to the left led to a large bathroom, decked in marble.
"Got to be a senator's retreat...holy crap."
"Got it in one Sir, remember the old senator known for drinking and womanizing? This was his bomb hideaway starting in the 60's, we saw it on the list and the boys and I thought of you."
"I'm touched. This place got an internet connection? That TV looks old enough to belong to my great grandma."
"5 T1 lines split among the residences sir. If you want we are authorized to buy new furnishings...including a television. This was a snap decision as I understand it."
"A television and computer are a bit of a must, followed by paint and canvas, since I'm assuming I'm supposed to stay cooped up in here, right?"
"Got it in one sir; this room is your home until the invasion, at the very least. Easier to defend in case of attack."
"And we're all together in case something goes wrong. Oh well, fine by me." I checked the fridge...fully stocked, and cold. No dust on any surface; new toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, as well as soap.
"Seems like some prep work has already been done." I wrote down a list.
"Can one of you get these for me? Everything should be found at Walmart, and there are Walmarts everywhere."
The captain handed the list to the large brawny guy next to him with a curt "see to it, sergeant.", then turned to me.
"Specialist Rose and private Arman' he pointed to them, as if it wasn't obvious who they were; 'will be outside your door. The rest of us will be around. You need anything, ask one of them, if necessary, they will get me."
"Understood captain. Don't suppose you'd join me for a drink? We could all likely use one."
"Still on duty sir...Once I'm off, maybe." And he marched out of the room without further ado, his remaining soldiers behind him.
I hated drinking alone, but this situation called for it. I made myself a rum and coke and scrounged up some stationary from the mahogany desk in the corner. Sitting at it to doodle. Any painter worth their salt can draw as well, and I spent a few hours drawing Betty from memory, as well as my special forces soldiers. I'd use the drawings to paint them later, provided I didn't die horribly get my arms blown off or something.
I'd always been accused of having a small morbid streak...and rum doesn't really help that, I've noticed. So out of curiosity I turned on the television. Not only did it work, but it had satellite...hundreds of channels, 95% of them useless. I settled on the history channel, lounging on the amazingly plush couch and nursing my rum. Where the coke had gone, I was no longer sure.
A knock on the door interrupted Rommel's push through Africa.
"Come in."
My captain entered, my sergeant close behind, carrying the items I requested, along with some take out chinese and a case of beer of some kind. I didn't recognize the brand.
"I see you started without me."
"Yep, not much else to do but drink and think, and too much of either is dangerous. So, history channel, rum, and whatever that beer is possibly, if you'll share. That and.."
"Sweet and sour.' he interrupted me, holding a box under my nose. 'Betty said you'd like some. She's begun her phase 2 of our fireworks display...She's unlocking your little groups powers, whatever that means."
"Fast work, she must be very tired by now."
"Hasn't slept in two weeks, near as I can tell."
"That has got to suck. So the desert fox, getting ground down but never really defeated. Your thoughts?"
"He was a bad-ass.' The captain replied, handing me one of those beers and a spork. 'He never really lost any battle save for Normandy...and that's more due to the fact that he wasn't there to give the right orders."
"I actually agree with you, except he was terrible at defense. My opinion is that Hitler should have put him in charge of the Russian campaign. He'd have won that."
"Possibly. The circumstances in Russia were horrid for the Germans, they never should have opened that second front in the first place; not enough resources and war material."
We sat there, discussing history channel shows for hours, slowly getting hammered, till the knock I'd been dreading sounded on my door.
"Come in."
Of course it was Betty, looking twice as tired as when I'd met her.
"I'd love to put this off, but we simply have no more time; you ready Fu?"
"Ready as I'll ever be; what do I need to do?"
"Just move to your bed, it's easier. I'll do the rest."
"Well, a pretty lady asking me to bed, I won't argue. But in all seriousness, you alright? Things that bad?"
"No, just a serious lack of time...can't wait till I can hand all this responsibility off to you all."
We moved to the bed. At Betty's gesture I lay down, getting comfortable.
"Now the only thing you need to do Fu, is stare into my eyes. That's it."
"OK." I stared into her big, liquid eyes...was she crying?
And of course I fell asleep.
I found myself floating...apparently orbiting our lovely planet earth; I could see the continents, and I was alone in the dark of space. Some dream, I thought. The old adage of trying to control my dream came to mind, and with that thought I found myself hurtling down...towards Japan? Not really where I wanted to go.
"Excuse me, Fuyuki-san?"
I turned and found myself somehow in front of a traditional Japanese shrine, staring at a miko of all things. Dark brown expressive eyes, long black hair bound in white ribbon, and red hakama under white haori.
"I am your guide, Kagami. If it pleases you, would you follow me?" She bowed.
Something about the name Kagami tickled a faint alarm bell...but she seemed inoffensive enough, and a guide was more or less what I was expecting for this.
"Please Kagami-san, lead on."
"Please Fuyuki-san, call me Kagami-chan." The very soul of courtesy, she was...apparently. Two could play that game.
"then please, call me Fuyuki-kun."
"Of course Fuyuki-kun."
She turned and bowed again, ignoring my fumbling attempts to do the same. She then turned back and resumed leading me across the large courtyard, past the guardian dogs and cherry trees. Of course they were in bloom, and the wind was blowing the blossoms all over in a most wonderful display which I slightly distrusted.
"If you please, Fuyuki-kun. In the cases you see, are the options you seek. Mighty generals, warriors, and crafty inventors are among your choices."
I looked; blinking away the bright sunshine and adjusting my eyes to the relative gloom. all around the walls of the shrine itself were display cases, like those used for historical artifacts in museums.
The first, was a typical hakama clad samurai, wielding a daisho (long and short sword set), pipe in his mouth, hair wild, a free roaming ronin if ever I saw one.
The second was a variation on the first, but with a shaved head, and a spear added; and no pipe.
The third was a guy that looked much like myself, but with odd tools in a belt, and a giant robot in the background.
The fourth looked to contain the typical Japanese delinquent, straight out of anime.
And on and on this went, no real end in sight, cases stretched to infinity. I felt that I could look at them forever and still not get what I needed.
"Excuse me, Kagami-chan, you are here to guide me, right?"
"Of course, Fuyuki-kun, do you require more guidance?"
"I suppose I do Kagami-chan; after all, the world won't save itself. Even if I trust the others to save it, I can't be sure they won't fail. You do know what is taking place on earth, right?"
"Of course, Fuyuki-kun. You are here in an attempt to gather the power necessary to save earth from invaders who have yet to appear. Tell me, do you desire power, Fuyuki-kun?"
Her stare seemed almost to glow for a moment, and her smile became less pleasant, more predatory. Despite myself, I backed up a step...then gathered my courage.
"Yes please, take me directly to the most powerful displays please."
"But you have already found the most powerful display here, Fuyuki-kun. Your desire to save your own speaks highly of you."
dropping all pretense of propriety and lunging forward suddenly, she kissed me deeply...with tongue. As I blacked out I heard her voice as from a long tunnel:
"Farewell Fuyuko-chan, and good luck. Do our kind proud."
I woke up suddenly, without any of the normal grogginess I'd come to expect in a morning. That dream had been so vivid, I just knew it meant something! Then it hit me all at once. It did mean something....it meant I'd gone through the whole intricate process to become a warrior for my race. An experimental wiggle returned the thought of heavy and large. Great.
I sat up and immediately felt something VERY wrong. It felt like I was sitting right on the end of my spine! It was a really uncomfortable feeling and I shifted to get rid of it, almost overbalancing before I could get my hands under me. Then something gently slapped me in the face, in a supposedly secure room! I turned to see who had done it, and saw something out of the corner of my eye. Rapidly I turned again, and promptly overbalanced and with an undignified squawk fell out of the bed. A snicker from the corner of the room that I hadn't taken in before, being distracted and all, distracted me from the fact that my chest had squished when I fell for a second.
"Who is there?" My voice came out light, breathy, and very feminine. I could feel my eyes widen.
"Chasing...her tails. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! I can't even..."
Chasing her tails? That was specialist Rose without a doubt, but who else was here? I looked around; save for the darkened corner where Rose lurked, no one else was here, but then there was that annoying thing at the edge of my vision...
"Specialist, report!" The captains voice roared through the door.
"Seems safe enough sir, subject's awake but not hostile at this time."
Rose replied through glances and occasional snickers. I tried to pick myself up, but somehow I'd become tangled in the bedsheets.
"Excuse me, Rose-san, could you please help me? My body isn't working."
"Oh, um, sure."
The door opened as specialist rose was helping me disentangle myself, I counted arms and legs, but had other limbs caught apparently; all behind me. I focused on standing up, almost stepping on my new extremely long platinum hair. Now when I say platinum, I don't mean the blonde platinum that comes from a bottle: I mean true platinum-silver hair that could be taken as a slightly less shiny chrome.
"Hello Fu; are you alright?"
I took pause at seeing weapons not quite pointed at me, but nonetheless ready. a bit further up I saw the stern faces, much different from Roses' amused one. Then what could only be my tails popped free of their cloth prison, and I instantly felt better.
"Yes Captain, I am well, I think."
Rose was stroking a tail, holding it ever so gently near its base and sliding her hand up over and over, and it felt wonderful! Like an electric tingle all the way to my brain.
He stared at me a long moment that might have been tense, except Rose was using both hands by this time...ahh, bliss! I flopped back on the bed, sighing,
"Hmm, well you seem fine. You remember who you are and what you're doing here?"
"Of course captain, I'm Fuyuko Yamamoto, kitsune and servant of Inari-sama. I am here by request to defend humanity against a suspected dangerous foreign invader."
I blinked a bit; while I was sure there was something wrong with that, I couldn't quite figure out what it was.
"Have you always been a...kitsune was it?"
"No of course not captain, I became one just now in order to save humanity."
That answer felt much more right. Just as I nodded to myself something hit my nostrils like a slap to the face, if slaps were pleasant.
"Is that...aburage?"
As quickly as I could I ran to the living room of the suite...perhaps too fast, I was using on all fours. It didnt matter, I had to! I didn't need chopsticks! I was hungry and there was a plate full, and it was all mine!
"Stand down captain, shes just hungry."
I looked up, face stuffed with delicious heaven, to see every weapon inches from my nose. I swallowed and raised my hands.
"I'm sorry captain, was this yours?"
"Um, no. Go ahead, it's for you. We just can't take any chances, there have been a few...incidents since you've been asleep."
I needed no further encouragement.
"Incidents?" I asked between bites.
"Some of your fellow champions of humanity have woken up less than stable."
I winced.
"That doesn't sound promising captain. Can I help?"
"Honestly no, if you step outside you'll likely be shot on sight by twitchy army pukes."
"Well that would put a damper on my day...or a further damper,' I frowned. 'Not really sure what to make of all this yet."
"Well whatever you do, don't go crazy and start killing us...I happen to like being alive."
"No intention to captain, you fed me. But I really would like to help if I could."
"Orders from Betty were to sit tight if you grew tails, and wait for something, she said we'd know what. But I'll see the brass gets the message."
"Hmm, well what do we do then? We can't just sit around, there is an invasion to prepare for!"
"You're in the army now.' he replied. 'Hurry up and wait time."
And he sat down and turned the television on, flipping channels with a bored look. The rest of the squad relaxed as well. Sated, I decided to surreptitiously check myself, not wanting to move much and cause my squad to stress. My nails were rather claw like, my hair was just impossibly long, My ears were those of a fox, and of course, there were the tails.
Problem is, my mind insisted they should be there....that this was normal, even though I knew I wasn't like this yesterday. I still looked 90% human, but was absolutely sure I was a fox, and simply wearing this shape as I might wear clothes. If I looked like this, what did my fellow champions of humanity look like? were any of us still human at all?
Did it matter?
I had to admit that for myself, it did not. Having come from humanity, I wanted them to have all the nice things, not to be ruled by a bunch of despoilers. besides, all my favorite people were people! But...I was pretty sure not everyone would feel the same. Good Inari, what about when the entire world changed?
And just like that, I was somewhere else, whisked away into a bird's eye view of some wooded terrain bordering a city. Thousands of humans shooting dozens of various eldritch seeming horrors, embittered former humans who were not part of the old regime any longer, striving to impose their will on a desperate, intolerant species.
With a shudder I snapped out of it. What was that? was it something like Betty experienced?
"Captain, might I go to the restroom?"
he looked up from the south park episode he was watching.
"huh? Oh sure. rose, your shift."
"Screw that Captain, I'm staying here."
I gave her a smile of gratitude and departed quickly, hoping to avoid any potential dressing downs that might occur. Once in the bathroom I closer. That I was dressed as a miko was obvious the moment I looked down before. But the mirror confirmed a few facts; I was perhaps 5ft 3in or 5ft 4in, tall. My chest was wrapped in a traditional manner, and yet it was easy to see why I lost my balance at first. I had wide hips, and a narrow waist...and my face could probably stop traffic. But the most unusual thing (aside from the hair) were my new eyes.
They were mismatched; one was a clear crystal blue the color of a tropical waterhole, and the other a pure amber gem that looked see through. Very weird.
Since I didn't have to actually go yet, I splashed some water on my face and headed out, my curiousity satisfied. And I walked right into a Mexican stand off.
My team had their weapons pointed at a tall handsome Japanese male; Cut body, longish ebon hair tied into a ponytail, and arresting grey eyes. I knew
immediately who it was, and bowed deeply.
"Inari-sama! What a surprise to see you here."
"Greetings Fuyuko-chan. How are you this fine morning?"
"You know this guy? He just appeared while you were in the can. Big no-no at the moment."
"Lower your weapons captain, hes on our side...and hes a god, so I doubt you could stop him anyway."
"A god?"
"My God specifically; meet Inari-sama, patron god of kitsune everywhere."
"And this is my chief servant on all the world, Fuyuko Yamamoto. Of course I would pay her a visit to see how she is doing after her traumatic night."
I bowed again, using my hair to cover my reddening face and racing thoughts. Inari-sama here personally! Stilling my face, I raised again to find everyone looking at me, Inari-sama calm, while the others present seemed to be in shock.
"What is it? I said before I served him. Of course he will help us in our darkest hour. You WILL help us, won't you Inari-sama?"
"Ack, please stop with those doe eyes Fu-chan! Of course I will help...in fact that is why I am here. I come bearing gifts."
He handed me two pouches that smelled like kidskin, both bearing strange kanji that I did not fully recognize, but looked like 'tough'. One was filled with ofuda (prayer slips used for casting various spells), a fine detail brush and ink for writing on them. The other was empty, and I raised an eyebrow at my benefactor.
"The use of the second bag will become clear in time. The ofuda from that bag will never run out, and can be used for any of your miko magicks. Nor will the ink."
I bowed deeply.
"Thank you Inari-sama. I am sure they will be useful."
"Of course they will...and now, I'm afraid I have my own preparations to make. so I will depart. Good luck Fu-chan."
And with a wave, he was gone.
"Well, that was different." Sergeant Dewinter summed it up for us.
"Yes, it is nice to know that Inari-sama will be taking an active role."
The captain opened his mouth, but the quick burping of sub machine guns from the hall quieted his words. Immediately the squad was active, finding cover and pointing guns at the door. I wasn't surprised exactly, but the screams that followed shocked me. They sounded piteous, as if the persons crying out were both in pain, and had lost all hope.
"Oh, enough of this. I'm going to go help, shoot me if you must."
I strode to the door and slammed it open. right outside was a statue of a soldier with a machine gun pointed back down the hall, a frozen expression of horror plastered on his face. A quick flash and I was somewhere else, in an underground temple with frescoes. I slammed the door closed again.
"One moment. You can follow, but stay behind me, otherwise this will end badly."
Using a skill I knew I possessed, I conjured an illusory mirror. It wasn't real, but it would work for my purposes. Closing my eyes, I opened the door
again, feeling around the new statue and called out.
"Excuse me, Medusa-san? I hate you and all that you stand for."
"You what!?! Do you know who...I...am...."
I heard cracking sounds and had an idea. Summoning mirror shades through the same ability, I peeked. there was a new statue in the hall, a lady with the lower half of a snake, and snake hair, staring at me with disbelief. She looked vaguely familiar.
"Well that was easier than I expected. Captain, isn't that the model? Miss Summers?"
"It was...She obviously went off the rails."
"there is a certain amount of irony here. How many did she kill?" Rose chimed in.
I stepped to the door, desummoning my illusions.
the pockmarked mess that was once an underground suite much like mine greeted me with a forlorn spectral wave.
"looks like her entire team. the man outside was the only one to escape the initial surprise I think."
"Carstairs. Good man, had the constitution of an ox." Corporal Delgado identified.
We stood in silence for a moment, contemplating developments.
"Well we can't leave him in the hall...can we maybe move him and the snake witch into the suite?"
Everyone glared at Rose.
"What? Too soon?"
"No Rose-san, we do need to be practical. funeral arrangements can wait. Dewinter-san, Berkowitz-san, could you please help?"
By this time we had an audience of military personnel watching us move the new pieces of rock.
"I can perhaps help."
Everyone turned to see an old man in a dirty brown robe looking suspiciously like Gandalf from lord of the rings. With a gesture the man caused Carstairs and Summers to float into the suite.
"Alright you both helped...now back into your suites so we can be less nervous. alright?"
"Alright Captain. thank you for your help wizard-san."
He gave a polite nod and we both went our separate ways, heedless of the weapons pointed at us.
As soon as the door to my suite closed, I turned and bowed apology.
"I apologize if I caused us trouble captain. I just could not stand to do nothing."
"Don't worry about it Fu, you're fine. I might take a little heat, but I don't think you're what my boss had in mind when he gave the order to lock this place down. You didn't seem all that surprised to see who our Medusa was though."
"I wasn't captain. Rose-san stated it; there is a certain amount of irony there. I feel that who we are, affects what we become, in a very real sense."
"It's possible I suppose. But those types of thoughts are above my pay grade. Let's all sit down and watch some boring television while we can."
And so we did, trying to shelve our worries as long as possible.
Chapter 1.
Magic has always existed in human society. Throughout all of our history, it has been used to explain the unexplained. From Gods driving chariots across the sky, to witches 3 influencing kingdoms, magic has always been at the root of it all. Real or imagined, it has played a role in our very lives and psyches
since we as a species started walking upright and chipping stone for tools. Which is why the events of the latter half of December 2011, while thoroughly shocking, shouldn't have actually surprised anyone.
December 26, 2011.
After another disheartening Christmas in which none of my friends cared to invite me to their festivities, and my family still hated me. I sat on the edge of the Murango bridge, staring over into the garbage laden Mississippi river below, pondering what a shit-fest my life was.
Sorry, didn't introduce myself...my name is Fuyuki Yamamoto, known as Fu to what few friends I have. I am an American of Japanese descent; my grandparents emigrated from japan after the second world war, enduring quite the figurative enema to make the USA their new home. My parent are both Americans of Japanese descent also (known as Nisei), named Arisu (my mom) and Hideki (my dad) respectively. While the rest of my family could speak and read Japanese quite easily, I could not... mainly because I was an idiot.
I didn't mean I wasn't smart, far from it. I was what my parents called 'a lazy leaf'... I didn't know where I wanted to fall, just drifting in the breeze. I was 30, a graduated jobless art major, who only now was realizing that I should have done what my parents asked and majored in medicine or law instead.
Art just did not pay the bills. I mean sure, I'd sold some things at art fairs and the like, but the lack of recognition was meaning more ramen than pizza lately, and the debts were beginning to hit. I couldn't even score a teaching job at my old Alma Mater.
All that wouldn't be so bad, except for one thing... the job market blew soft gooey green chunks. So penniless, alone unless the bottle of cheap red wine counted, I settled down on the bridge, contemplating life and the turgid waters below. At least, until a shout broke the silence.
"No, you mustn't! you need to live!"
A small missile of silk and flesh slammed into me, knocking me to my side and away from the edge. The back of my head collided with the stone bridge and I saw stars a moment. As soon as I regained sense I saw what hit me... a woman, dark brown hair, a classic face, and a body built for sin, both just starting to show their age. I'd guess her to be around 40... definite MILF material, dressed in a maroon silk body wrap, that shimmered when she moved. Kind of odd clothes for the middle of winter, come to think of it.
"I wasn't really thinking of jumping miss..." I didn't see a ring, why not flatter her if I can?
"Call me Betty."
"Okay Betty, I'm Fu, and I wasn't really considering suicide. Just drinking my problems away for a bit."
"You can't lie to me, you were thinking thoughts of death."
Okay, so a crazy person; great. Just what I need while working on a drunk. She was right, but not entirely so.
"Betty, I was thinking of faking my own death for a moment, but I wasn't serious. Let's just say I'm not in the best financial situation at the moment and leave it at that, okay?" I mean I was an art major, sculpting wasn't my thing, but I could make a dummy realistic enough to throw it off a bridge in front of witnesses....
"I might be able to help you, if you want me to."
"To do what, fake my death?"
She nodded, her face serious. "Yes. All you need to do is come with me."
She was a stranger, she was crazy, she was hot, and I was drunk with nothing really to lose. The decision was an easy one.
"I warn you, if you are leading me into a mugging, all you'll get is pocket lint."
"I'm not here to mug you. In fact, your world's continued survival may depend on you and you alone. I'm here to help you."
"You realize you sound crazy, right?"
She didn't reply, instead pulling me into the darkened park.
"I found him, lieutenant."
Looming shapes materialized out of the copse of trees; painted faces, camouflage, assault rifles of some type, and night vision goggles. I took a step back.
"Um, I don't have any money guys."
"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security."
"...what?" I looked closer, seeing no markings to denote rank or nationality, even though the guy speaking was obviously American.
"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security." The speaker replied in exactly the same tone and inflection. The guy behind him started talking into a headset.
"What am I in for? Using lead based paint?"
"I'm not at liberty to say sir."
I began to hear a chopper approaching. I looked at Betty, seeing a rather happy smirk on her face.
"Well...this is awkward. Don't suppose you guys want to talk to me at all, do you?"
"Not really sir."
"want to tell me what's going on Betty?"
"I can't yet Fu, I'm sorry. But relax, you are in no danger. In fact, these people are here to protect you."
I looked again. Only two members of this... team? Were facing me; there were at least 4 people that I saw facing outward, weapons not quite pointing outward,
but ready for deployment in a second.
"Protect me from what? Rogue Al Queda wanting me to paint propaganda?"
The chopper came into view, a big black affair with used to transport troops unless I missed my guess.
"Just come with us sir, I'm sure the boss will explain it to you."
The lieutenant led me back to the trail, where a basket of the type used in air rescues dropped down from the chopper. Following his motions, I climbed in and he belted me to it. He gave the line a tug, and it started reeling up. A helmeted guy helped me into the chopper and unbelted me, sending the basket down again.
"Please belt yourself in sir, we will be away momentarily."
I did so, watching as the team was brought up in the basket, 2 at a time. Last of all was Betty herself, spryly stepping off the basket with grace and a smile, and belting herself next to me. She took my hand in both of hers, seeming to will me to make eye contact with her.
"It'll be alright, I promise."
Oddly enough, I believed her.
Chapter 2.
The weather in Washington D.C. was rather chilly, suiting the rain that drizzled disconsolately down upon the capitol of the strongest country in the world. The perfectly manicured lawn was slick and windswept, providing treacherous footing for the security details as they patrolled. The city itself was fairly quiet, for one of those types of cities that never sleeps.
That is until the wind started changing direction, loaded with a bright blue-green glow and the sound of static discharge. The glow resolved into a large jagged tear, and a scene of jagged rock and searing sun resolved itself within, more hot wind blowing from the tear itself, stirring miniature tornadoes amongst the now abused grass.
From this rip in reality, stepped a gorgeous woman, clad in a maroon silk body wrap that did little to conceal generous curves, she looked around curiously, taking in the sights while ignoring the tear she had just stepped through as it collapsed behind her. The calm returned to the night almost immediately, the wind resuming it's normal course... though the grass was now scarred almost beyond recognition, and there still remained a faint scent of ozone in the air.
Stepping around the dying dust devils, the woman attempted to reach the large estate known to all of earth as the white house. She only made it six steps however, when she was surrounded by bleak looking men and women in suits pointing very large guns at her head. She put her hands up meekly and asked:
"Take me to your leader."
I turned from the closed circuit television displaying the security tape of last week to Betty with a gimlet stare.
"I can't believe you actually said that, that's like the worst cliche ever."
"True, but it worked, didn't it?"
"So what does this prove, exactly? Looks like an elaborate set up to me. I mean the entire situation spells Hollywood cliche."
Betty smiled. "You're exactly right, but in this case, that does not make it any less real. You do understand though, a hopeful sign."
"Not sure I understand anything; this footage could be faked."
"Come with us, sir." The lieutenant commanded from his position at the doorway.
"Where to?"
"Orders were to see you understood the situation, so we go outside."
I followed the entire team along quietly through the white house, and out to the lawn, Betty trailing us all. The magical mystery tour ended at a patch of grass burned in a ragged line; I looked and it matched the location the old video footage showed me.
"All this proves is that you guys cross your eyes and dot your t's in your scams...though why you'd want to scam me is beyond me."
"Look behind you sir."
I looked, and there was Betty...with a glowing ball of lightning in her hand.
"Back away please Fu, they are fairly adamant I don't leave more scorch marks."
Suppressing my curiosity, which wanted me to run up and see what the trick was, I backed away and waited.
"You know, you're the first one to actually hint at the need for a demonstration," Betty said conversationally as she opened another tear in space like the one that I no longer doubted took place here a week before. Once again the wind rushed before my face as the portal expanded; hot as the desert badlands depicted on the other side and... was that a city in the distance? Betty cautiously approached it, and her head disappeared, appearing on the other side as part of the scene, looking around almost as if afraid.
"Should we be worried?"
"Nope!' she replied cheerily. 'They haven't found the spot yet. We are safe for now.
"They?"
"The people we need your help with. My people. Obviously, we are mages from an alternate universe... and they are coming here to conquer, same old shtick. I came here to warn your people."
"...Obviously. So why, if you're all mages, are you wanting our crappy planet? You have your own."
"Well we pretty much destroyed ours; you know how it goes, ultimate power leading to the grubbing after more power, a short sighted point of view, planetary destruction, etc. Pretty much the same road you lot are headed towards now, just a slower road."
"Human nature? You are a type of human aren't you?"
"Perceptive; I am a type of human of course, from one of many alternate universes layered next to yours. The irony is in where you come in Fu. I'm here to help your people, by teaching you all how to be as silly, ruthless, and powerful as we are."
"That sounds like the best plan ever... but I guess it's better than trying to rely on tanks versus someone who can simply open a rip in space and time and send them to another planet. For starters I assume."
Betty nodded. "I'm not very strong by my people's standards, really, or I'd stop them myself and you'd never have seen me."
"So you need us. So how does this magic thing work? All universes have it?"
"As I understand it, yes. though it differs from alternate reality to alternate reality." Following a gesture from our resident special forces team leader, we started heading back inside.
"The way it works is simple. Belief. Throughout the history of humanity regardless of which reality they call home, there are legends. Myths, real people who led amazing lives, fantastical stories that are dreamt up and just take root. For whatever reason these...we call them archetypes of humanity get seeded into the collective unconscious of a people...and belief or thought itself has power. then sooner or later, something happens in that reality; some sort of watershed event that opens everything up."
"How?"
"We never really found out how. Maybe you guys will... because your event is just under week away, and my people plan to take advantage of the distractions provided by several of your people and your latent magic awakening by invading."
"So what form will this event take?" I asked as we made it back inside...it was odd, I hadn't seen a single reporter or paparazzi, at the white house. In fact, I hadn't seen many people at all; the halls were probably being cleared as we walked down them or something. It made me wonder why we were even meeting at the actual white house; it seemed like a bad idea.
"Well it differs world to world; my people thought it was due to the humans on the planet reaching critical mass... so many just believed in the odd and strange that the odd and strange simply started happening. However, your global population is already past where that happened for us. So... no clue. You'll have to ask your scientists when it happens."
"Not the science buff, huh?"
"No, not really."
I turned to the lieutenant. "Got the egg head team assembled yet?"
"We are working on it, sir. Priority was given to assembling people like yourselves first."
Wow, a legitimate answer...I did not expect that. I had expected to be put off with some need to know bullcrap, but maybe he felt I needed to know. So one good question, properly answered, deserved another.
"People like me? Artistically inclined, dreamer types? Voted those most likely to become one of Betty's archetypes?"
"According to her sir, yes."
"There is also a way to control the process, making sure that it happens.' Betty chimed in. 'Which is why you are here. I know you will develop power according to the legends of your people. I can at least partially control what form it takes, and make you more powerful...if you'll help defend your world
from my people."
I believed Betty was telling the truth about wanting to stop her people. Unless of course she was gathering us all to kill us before the invasion. I doubted that, but it was possible. "So who is in charge of this little project, and how black is it?"
"The department of defense sir, and it's as black as you think it is."
"Well, that explains the media blackout?"
"Exactly sir."
"Then I think I need to speak to the boss."
"Boss, sir?"
"The one you have waiting in the wings to take questions from me and the others you guys are abducting."
He changed directions on a non-existent dime.
"Right this way sir."
This is all too easy...scripted, most definitely. But maybe more? I searched Betty's face for hints. What could she really do? Just make gates, or was there more?
"So why do I need your help? From your words, this is going to happen anyway. What do you mean more powerful?"
"Well, not all legends and myths are created equal. For example, we have a legend on our planet of Heracles; you do too perhaps?"
"He's commonly called Hercules here if we are thinking of the same guy. Greek half-god right?" She nodded.
"Yes... know who he was based on, who came before him?"
"Uh... no."
"Exactly. Would you rather be Heracles, or that guy that almost no one knows about, who is also a legend and in your collective thoughts, just far less powerful."
"OK, I see your point. Especially with a war coming, I'd much rather be one of the haves."
"Haves? Not familiar with that term."
"So your world is close, but not entirely like ours, huh? The full term is, haves and have nots...as in, those who have the power, and those who don't, and are commonly run over by said power."
"Ah, I see. Yes, good attitude, but don't carry it too far; my people did, to the detriment of all."
That was the last word as we made it to a conference room; my escort stopped and let Betty and I in first, following after.
This conference room was just the wrong side of huge, with a soulless feel and bad decor. It was also filled with people... some fifty or so sitting down at the table, and many many soldiers looking like my escort lining the walls. Perhaps a small team for each person? Betty pointed me at one of the few empty
chairs and we joined the conversation already in progress.
"You have all met Betty, and you have all seen the security footage; even if you doubt the threat is real, can any of you afford to take the chance? We are talking about a possible extinction event for the American people, and perhaps our world."
The graying yet still imposing man seated at the front of the mahogany table stated, before getting interrupted by a rather irate looking frumpy brunette with a face that could curdle milk and a voice to match:
"But that's just the point! How can we trust that witch's word for anything? For all we know, this very gathering starts the apocalypse! She could be gathering us for her people to slaughter en masse, and end resistance before it begins, under the guise of friendship! She...."
The 'lady' slowed her rant as the object of her tirade came into her view.
"Yes, yes, I warned you of a threat my people represent to destroy you, when I could just have easily let nature take it's course and...destroy you. Does anyone doubt how effective the gate I used is? Perhaps when troops or a bomb is sent through it without any warning? But you don't need to take my word for
it, all you need to do is wait."
Time to jump right in and add my 2 cents.
"What I'd like to know is, if you can gate here, why can't they? Why are they waiting until we undergo this 'event' you spoke of?"
"Well, there are a few reasons Fu. One, the type of power I wield is one of a kind. I see multiple futures, and can react to them. My people don't know I'm here, or even what world they can link to in a week; they will be doing it blind without my guidance. Secondly, without the event, you are both much more prepared even when surprised, and much harder to gate to as a world. Why waste resources and power you don't have to waste when you can simply wait a week and fall upon an unsuspecting world in global chaos?"
"That makes sense... I'd bet you are sorely missed on your planet already."
"Oh, I'm sure I am."
"So, why come to the US? Why not another country?" a middle aged bespectacled man asked, rubbing a hand across his thinning blonde hair. By the looks of his cheap, rumpled suit, a salary drone who hadn't slept in days.
"Isn't the answer to that obvious Conrad? The USA is the strongest country on this world, and I can't be everywhere at once. You are also the country most likely to help anyone in need on your own planet, for little to no ulterior motives or gain. Who better to defend the world in quick order while a global
resistance is formed and mounted?"
"Does that mean you're only helping us? I mean if you say I'm going to be strong, I know this guy in Sweden who might as well be my twin brother in attitude."
A third speaker, a young man with dirty black hair, a gaunt frame, and glazed eyes chipped in.
"I will, of course, make exceptions as time allows to gather the best other countries have to offer. but you shouldn't expect too many others to join you here in time. Expect that what you see here is it, and plan accordingly. Which reminds me, enough rest. I need another chopper and team Mr. McGonacgal."
I knew I'd seen that guy! the sec/def himself, Harry McGonacgal. A real hawk as I recall.
"Take them, they are waiting. Sure you don't need rest?"
"I'll sleep on the way. By the way, the next chopper you scramble will have engine problems and blow up somewhere over the Atlantic...might want to tell your people to pull it and go with the next one on rotation."
"I'll make a note of it."
"Later all, have a fun time."
She departed with a wink and a blown kiss. Sigh, Bet she was a real party-er...maybe after all this I'd get the chance to find out. But for now, I turned back to this collection of motley souls, studying them and in turn being studied.
"So is it safe to say we are all on board with the current plan? To humor Betty and act like this 'event' will come to pass? You're all on board to potentially face this threat and save the human race?"
I held up my hand.
"Sir, I'm all for helping the human race, but if I might presume to speak for at least some of us...what's in it for us? You're asking us to give up our jobs, lives, and potentially die for the cause... all well and good, but I'd rather not be living under a bridge in the meantime."
He frowned at me...which was a rather unnerving sight to be honest, though I don't think I let it show. Everyone else seemed to be holding their collective breath; was I really the first one to bring this up?
"You will, of course, be paid for your services... Fu, was it?"
"Fuyuki, sir. No offense to the soldiers present, but If I'm supposed to be more destructive than the soldiers here are, I want more pay... and I want it in writing. Our current administration has a distressing tendency to be forgetful sometimes."
I was wrong, he'd only looked mildly displeased before... NOW he was frowning. Visions of ending up sunk in a river somewhere danced in my head. But bravely I pressed on.
"For example, the Abrams main battle tank... is 44 million dollars, and costs quite a bit in terms of fuel, support staff, and parts to maintain. And from listening to Betty, we are all going to be more flexible, and more powerful than one of those. So why not cut the requisite number of tanks... and pay us
that money instead? Sounds like a bargain to me."
We stared each other down for a long, pregnant moment. He broke the contest first, looking around the table at the other faces present in the room, then back to me.
"Provided this pans out as expected, I have no problem paying you a reasonable fee for your service... and the cost and maintenance of an Abrams battle tank might be considered fair if this all happens as Betty has explained... AND you all stay loyal American citizens, ready to pitch in to help mom and apple pie. Otherwise, you will be fairly compensated for time wasted on a fool's errand. I'll have some accountants draw up the contracts. I assume you will all want one?"
General nods of assent met that question.
"Good. Now I have work to do. The kitchen has food ready if you're hungry; you're all invited to stay and explore. Your teams of course, will escort you to prevent any misunderstandings. You'll be driven to a hotel come nightfall, where you'll all be staying, together with your teams."
"Afraid of another Betty?"
he paused again.
"We like to cover all eventualities. Excuse me." The door slammed behind him.
A general murmur burst out behind me, exclamations of shock and joy erupting as the stoic soldiers looked on.
"I can't believe it, before you came that stuffed shirt was basically feeding us the 'for the good of all' line and acting as if we should be pleased to martyr ourselves! You actually stared him down!"
I turned to spy a blonde bombshell I vaguely recognized as one of those magazine fashion models, all busty and borderline anorexic looking.
"Yeah, I am all for patriotism, just not the blind kind, Miss..?"
"Oh sorry, where are my manners? Holly Summers. I'm a model."
"You sure are, I remember your name now. Sorry." This lady redefined vapid. So interesting noting who was picked by fate... and to wonder why.
"I mean, the nerve of that jerk, pulling me right off my gig... I make more money there than he does in a year! Fair compensation my ass!"
"I'm sure there is no fair compensation for your ass Ms. Summers... but if you'll excuse me, I'd really like to see the white house before they kick me out."
"Ha! you're funny! Mind company?" Think fast, think fast...
"I don't, but I'm pretty sure our escorts would get in the way of each other."
"Ugh, you're right, damn gestapo...."
"See you later." I left before I could get ambushed by someone else.
Once safe outside the door, I turned to my escort.
"So lieutenant...looks like we will be seeing a lot of each other; your thoughts?"
"First of all sir, it's captain Harris...we ran short of lieutenants for this little farce. Second of all sir, I'm paid to follow orders. The fact that I think you're an ass, holding America's well-being hostage for financial gain, does not matter. I will do my job."
"Well captain, sorry for the mistake, if you'd wear rank insignia I'd have a chance, though I understand that in your line of work it's optional. Are you a family man Captain? Is family important to you?"
He looked wary.
"Yes, sir."
"Good, we can understand each other then. So am I. I'm dirt poor captain, and in debt up to my eyeballs. My parents, brother and sister make a decent living, but not enough to pay my bills if I die... and soon they may not be able to afford anything at all, and my sister has kids on the way. Chances are, the casualties for this little merry band is going to be high as the crap piled in this city, as since I understand it, we are to buy time by rapidly responding to any gates if possible, correct?"
He actually looked surprised that I'd figured it out. "Yes, sir."
"So if I ask for what a tank costs and is maintained for per day... and die in one day, all my bills will be paid, as well as my family taken care of. At least provided we win, and America survives."
His look softened a bit and gained a measure of respect. "Yes, sir."
"Now, you been here before?"
"No, sir."
"Then let's enjoy ourselves, shall we?"
Chapter 3.
The White House was a bit underwhelming, and entirely too touristy for my taste... at least the parts I was allowed in. There was the awe inspiring sense of history, of "Lincoln was here", but there was also the inescapable fact of "this is how it is now", that did much to ruin the mystique. I never did ask,
but I think the majority of my escort felt the same.
"Alright captain, what now? Do we whistle for our ride?"
"Well sir, about an hour ago we received word of a change in plans. The four-star hotel stay has been canceled; instead, you're all about to take a trip to West Virginia."
"What? Damn was kind of looking forward to the mini bar. What's in West Virginia?"
"The Greenbriar resort."
"Oooo, even better, bet they got a full bar."
"No word on that sir; Chopper is this way."
We made it out to the yard, where a succession of helicopters I recognized as Hueys were hovering, one on the south lawn. As we approached that one took off, and another landed.
"That's our ride, sir." Let's go!" The captain took the lead, running hunched over as people are wont to do; I followed his example.
We all piled in, and the captain took the time to strap a parachute onto me, which of course I had no clue how to use really, other than the usual 'pull the cord and pray'. We were joined by the mousey looking bespectacled man who spoke up during the conference and his escort. They strapped him in a chute as well and we were off.
"Nervous? You look green."
"I don't do so well with flying; especially flying in loud helicopters with open doors!" He yelled back at me.
"Name is Fu; what's yours?"
"Conrad."
"Pleased to meet you."
Since all the noise wasn't conducive to prolonged conversation, I settled back and decided to wait it out. After at most an hour, we passed over a small town and began to lower; looking around I could see the other helicopters of the same type (which had been out of sight for the trip), lifting off or hovering.
Seems someone in charge actually valued us.
Once the chopper set down, I was unclipped and all but thrown through the door before I could react in any meaningful way. With my team clustered around me, we broke for what appeared to be a small one story ranch house, as the chopper lifted off behind us.
"No way that house can take us all. So what's under it?"
The captains' response was a smirk as he led me inside, his squad actually taking up positions and staring away at the surrounding field as if someone would come popping out of it any minute.
"Beginning to think you guys are entirely too high strung."
No response as I was led deeper into the house... to a closet door. The captain opened the door, and it led to an elevator. A heavily reinforced looking one, if looks were any judge, and large enough to hold us all, if we were very close.
"How positively cliche. So what is this?"
"Enter the elevator please, sir."
I entered, of course, followed by my escort... standing room only. I felt for the female in our merry band, she was likely getting groped. Then again, she looked tough, so maybe not. I made sure my hands didn't wander, of course.
After about a 5-minute ride, the elevator stopped abruptly, tossing us all against each other, and the doors opened, spilling us out.
"Well, that ride could have been smoother. Sorry to anyone I inadvertently hurt."
"No problem, sir."
We all extricated ourselves and I stared down a hallway about 3 feet wide, made all of dark concrete. It sloped slightly downward and was lit with bare bulbs as far as I could see. Almost at the range of my eyes, the hall forked left.
"This way sir."
"Knew that, only one hall after all."
"You're a smartass, sir."
He led me down the hall of course, off the left branch, where marked doors started appearing to my right. Barracks, operations, communications. Another barracks and the hall forked again, this time to the right. Two guard rooms on either side then the hall was filled with plain but sturdy doors as far as I
could see. My beloved captain led me to room number twenty-six, and opened it, gesturing me inside.
Inside was a suite; only way to describe it. A room larger than my entire apartment with an entertainment center (even if the television was outdated), large leather couch, mini bar, and a kitchenette off to my left. to the rear was another door, much less sturdy. I crossed the thick russet carpet and opened it as my escort spread out. A bedroom, I believe the word was 'sumptuously' appointed. A canopy bed, in royal purple, with matching mahogany bureau and nightstand. An open door to the left led to a large bathroom, decked in marble.
"Got to be a senator's retreat... holy crap."
"Got it in one, Sir. Remember the old senator known for drinking and womanizing? This was his bomb hideaway starting in the 60's, we saw it on the list and the boys and I thought of you."
"I'm touched. This place got an internet connection? That TV looks old enough to belong to my great grandma."
"5 T-1 lines split among the residences sir. If you want we are authorized to buy new furnishings... including a television. This was a snap decision as I understand it."
"A television and computer are a bit of a must, followed by paint and canvas, since I'm assuming I'm supposed to stay cooped up in here, right?"
"Got it in one again, sir; this room is your home until the invasion, at the very least. Easier to defend in case of attack."
"And we're all together in case something goes wrong. Oh well, fine by me." I checked the fridge... fully stocked, and cold. No dust on any surface; new toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom, as well as soap.
"Seems like some prep work has already been done." I wrote down a list.
"Can one of you get these for me? Everything on the list should be found at Walmart, and there are Walmarts everywhere."
The captain handed the list to the large brawny guy next to him with a curt "See to it, Sergeant.", then turned to me.
"Specialist Rose and private Arman” he pointed to them, as if it wasn't obvious who they were; “will be outside your door. The rest of us will be around. You need anything, ask one of them, if necessary, they will get me."
"Understood captain. Don't suppose you'd join me for a drink? We could all likely use one."
"Still on duty sir... once I'm off, maybe." And he marched out of the room without further ado, his remaining soldiers behind him.
I hated drinking alone, but this situation called for it. I made myself a rum and coke and scrounged up some stationary from that beautiful desk in the corner. Sitting at it to doodle. Any painter worth their salt can draw as well, and I spent a few hours drawing Betty from memory, as well as my special
forces soldiers. I'd use the drawings to paint them later, provided I didn't die horribly or get my arms blown off or something.
I'd always been accused of having a small morbid streak... and rum doesn't really help that, I've noticed. So out of curiosity I turned on the television. Not only did it work, but it had satellite... hundreds of channels, 95% of them useless. I settled on the history channel, lounging on the amazingly plush
couch and nursing my rum. Where the coke had gone, I was no longer sure.
A knock on the door interrupted Rommel's push through Africa.
"Come in."
My captain entered, my sergeant close behind, carrying the items I requested, along with some take-out Chinese and a case of beer of some kind. I didn't recognize the brand.
"I see you started without me."
"Yep, not much else to do but drink and think, and too much of either is dangerous. So, history channel, rum, and whatever that beer is possibly, if you'll share. That and.."
"Sweet and sour.' he interrupted me, holding a box under my nose. 'Betty said you'd like some. She's begun her phase 2 of our fireworks display... she's unlocking your little groups powers, whatever that means."
"Fast work, she must be very tired by now."
"Hasn't slept in two weeks, near as I can tell."
"That has got to suck. So the desert fox, getting ground down but never really defeated. Your thoughts?"
"He was a badass.' The captain replied, handing me one of those beers and a spork. 'He never really lost any battle save for Normandy... and that's more due to the fact that he wasn't there to give the right orders."
"I actually agree with you, except he was terrible at defense. My opinion is that Hitler should have put him in charge of the Russian campaign. He'd have won that."
"Possibly. The circumstances in Russia were horrid for the Germans, they never should have opened that second front in the first place; not enough resources and war material."
We sat there, discussing history channel shows for hours, slowly getting hammered, till the knock I'd been dreading sounded on my door.
"Come in."
Of course it was Betty, looking twice as tired as when I'd met her.
"I'd love to put this off, but we simply have no more time; you ready Fu?"
"Ready as I'll ever be; what do I need to do?"
"Just move to your bed, it's easier. I'll do the rest."
"Well, a pretty lady asking me to meet her at a bed, I won't argue. But in all seriousness, you alright? Things that bad?"
"No, just a serious lack of time...can't wait till I can hand all this responsibility off to you all."
We moved to the bed. At Betty's gesture I lay down, getting comfortable.
"Now the only thing you need to do Fu is stare into my eyes. That's it."
"OK." I stared into her big, liquid eyes...was she crying? She was, but why?
And of course I fell asleep.
I found myself floating...apparently orbiting our lovely planet earth; I could see the continents, and I was alone in the dark of space. Some dream, I thought. The old adage of trying to control my dream came to mind, and with that thought I found myself hurtling down... towards Japan? Not really where I
wanted to go.
"Excuse me, Fuyuki-san?"
I turned and found myself somehow in front of a traditional Japanese shrine, staring at a miko of all things. Dark brown expressive eyes, long black hair bound in white ribbon, and red hakama under white haori.
"I am your guide, Kagami. If it pleases you, would you follow me?" She bowed.
Something about the name Kagami tickled a faint alarm bell... but she seemed inoffensive enough, and a guide was more or less what I was expecting for this.
"Please Kagami-san, lead on."
"Please Fuyuki-san, call me Kagami-chan." The very soul of courtesy, she was... apparently. Forgoing the use of the usual honorifics was meant to close social distance and foster friendships. Two could play that game.
"Then please, call me Fuyuki-kun."
"Of course Fuyuki-kun."
She turned and bowed again, ignoring my fumbling attempts to do the same. She then turned back and resumed leading me across the large courtyard, past the guardian dogs and cherry trees. Of course they were in bloom, and the wind was blowing the blossoms all over in a most wonderful display which I slightly distrusted.
She led us inside the shrine itself.
"If you please, Fuyuki-kun. In the cases you see, are the options you seek. Mighty generals, warriors, and crafty inventors are among your choices."
I looked; blinking away the bright sunshine and adjusting my eyes to the relative gloom. all around the walls of the shrine itself were display cases, like those used for historical artifacts in museums.
The first, was a typical hakama clad samurai, weilding a daisho (long and short sword set), pipe in his mouth, hair wild, a free roaming ronin if ever I saw one.
The second was a variation on the first, but with a shaved head, and a spear added; and no pipe.
The third was a guy that looked much like myself, but with odd tools in a belt, and a giant robot in the background.
The fourth looked to contain the typical Japanese delinquent, straight out of an anime.
And on and on this went, no real end in sight, cases stretched to infinity. I felt that I could look at them forever and still not get what I needed.
"Excuse me, Kagami-chan, you are here to guide me, right?"
"Of course, Fuyuki-kun, do you require more guidance?"
"I suppose I do Kagami-chan; after all, the world won't save itself. Even if I trust the others to do as expected, and do the right thing, I can't be sure they won't fail. You do know what is taking place on earth, right?"
"Of course, Fuyuki-kun. You are here in an attempt to gather the power necessary to save earth from invaders who have yet to appear. Tell me, do you desire power, Fuyuki-kun?"
Her stare seemed almost to glow for a moment, and her smile became less pleasant, more predatory. Despite myself, I backed up a step... then gathered my courage.
"Yes please, take me directly to the most powerful displays if you are able."
“Why do you desire such power, Fuyuki-kun?” Kagami took a step forward, almost into my personal space. I suppressed my instinct and held my ground.
“To save the lives of others, of course. To defend against those who threaten our existence. You know this already.” This was no mere dream; my mind was trying to tell me something. I had no idea what it could be though.
"But you have already found the most powerful display here, Fuyuki-kun. Your desire to save your own speaks highly of you, and the shrine has responded."
Dropping all pretense of propriety and lunging forward suddenly, she kissed me deeply... with tongue. As I blacked out I heard her voice as from a long tunnel:
"Farewell Fuyuko-chan, and good luck. Do our kind proud."
Chapter 4.
I woke up suddenly, without any of the normal grogginess I'd come to expect in a morning. That dream had been so vivid, I just knew it meant something! Then it hit me all at once. It did mean something... it meant I'd gone through the whole intricate process to become a warrior for my race. An experimental wiggle returned the thought of heavy and large for my new self. Great.
I sat up and immediately felt something VERY wrong. It felt like I was sitting right on the end of my spine! It was a really uncomfortable feeling and I shifted to get rid of it, almost overbalancing before I could get my hands under me. Then something gently slapped me in the face, in a supposedly secure
room! I turned to see who had done it, and saw something out of the corner of my eye. Rapidly I turned again, and promptly overbalanced and with an undignified squawk fell out of the bed. A snicker from the corner of the room that I hadn't taken in before distracted me from the fact that my chest had squished when I fell for a second.
"Who is there?" My voice came out light, breathy, and very feminine. I could feel my eyes widen.
"Chasing... her tails. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! I can't even..."
Chasing her tails? That was specialist Rose without a doubt, but who else was here? I looked around; save for the darkened corner where Rose lurked, no one else was here, but then there was that annoying thing at the edge of my vision...
"Specialist, report!" The Captain's voice roared through the door.
"Seems safe enough sir, the subject is awake but not hostile at this time." Rose replied through glances and occasional snickers. I tried to pick myself up, but somehow I'd become tangled in the bed sheets.
"Excuse me, Rose-san, could you please help me? My body isn't working." I was entirely too formal; I knew I was, but couldn't stop myself.
"Oh, um, sure."
The door opened as specialist rose was helping me disentangle myself, I counted arms and legs, but had other limbs caught apparently; all behind me. I focused on standing up, almost stepping on my new extremely long platinum hair. Now when I say platinum, I don't mean the blonde platinum that comes
from a bottle: I mean true platinum-silver hair that could be taken as a slightly less shiny chrome.
"Hello Fu; are you alright?"
I took pause at seeing weapons not quite pointed at me, but nonetheless ready. a bit further up I saw the stern faces, much different from Roses' amused one. Then what could only be my tails popped free of their cloth prison, and I instantly felt better.
"Yes Captain, I am well, I think."
Rose was stroking a tail, holding it ever so gently near its base and sliding her hand up over and over, and it felt wonderful! Like an electric tingle all the way to my brain.
He stared at me a long moment that might have been tense, except Rose was using both hands by this time... ah, bliss! I flopped back on the bed, sighing,
"Hmm, well you seem fine. You remember who you are and what you're doing here?"
"Of course captain, I'm Fuyuko Yamamoto, kitsune and servant of Inari-sama. I am here by request to defend humanity against a suspected dangerous foreign invader."
I blinked a bit; while I was sure there was something wrong with that, I couldn't quite figure out what it was.
The Captain had tensed again. "Have you always been a... kitsune was it?"
"No, of course not Captain, I became one just now in order to save humanity."
That answer felt much more right. Just as I nodded to myself something hit my nostrils like a tail slap to the face, if such slaps were pleasant.
"Is that... aburage?"
As quickly as I could I ran to the living room of the suite... perhaps too fast, I was using on all fours. It didn't matter, I had to! I didn't need chopsticks! I was hungry and there was a plate full, and it was all mine!
"Stand down soldiers, she's just hungry."
I looked up, face stuffed with delicious heaven, to see every weapon inches from my nose. I swallowed and raised my hands.
"I'm sorry Captain, was this yours?"
"Um, no. Go ahead, it's for you. We just can't take any chances, there have been a few... incidents since you've been asleep."
I needed no further encouragement.
"Incidents?" I asked between bites.
"Some of your fellow champions of humanity have woken up less than stable."
I winced. "That doesn't sound promising captain. Can I help?"
"Honestly no, if you step outside you'll likely be shot on sight by twitchy army pukes."
"Well that would put a damper on my day... or a further damper,” I frowned. “not really sure what to make of all this yet."
"Well, whatever you do, don't go crazy and start killing us... I happen to like being alive."
"No intention to captain, you fed me. But I really would like to help if I could."
"Orders from Betty were to sit tight if you grew tails, and wait for something, she said we'd know what. But I'll see the brass gets the message."
"Hmm, well what do we do then? We can't just sit around, there is an invasion to prepare for!"
"You're in the army now.” he replied. “Hurry up and wait time."
And he sat down and turned the television on, flipping channels with a bored look. The rest of the squad relaxed as well. Sated, I decided to surreptitiously check myself, not wanting to move much and cause my squad to stress. My nails were rather claw like, my hair was just impossibly long, My ears were those of a fox, and of course, there were the tails.
Problem is, my mind insisted they should be there... that this was normal, even though I knew I wasn't like this yesterday. I still looked 90% human, but was absolutely sure I was a fox, and simply wearing this shape as I might wear clothes. If I looked like this, what did my fellow champions of humanity look like? Were any of us still human at all?
Did that matter?
I had to admit that for myself, it did not. Having come from humanity, I wanted them to have all the nice things, not to be ruled by a bunch of despoilers. Besides, all my favorite people were people! But... I was pretty sure not everyone would feel the same. Good Inari, what about when the entire world
changed?
And just like that, I was somewhere else, whisked away into a bird's eye view of some wooded terrain bordering a city. Thousands of humans shooting dozens of various eldritch seeming horrors, embittered former humans who were not part of the old regime any longer, striving to impose their will on a desperate, intolerant species.
With a shudder I snapped out of it. What was that? was it something like Betty experienced?
"Captain, might I go to the restroom?"
he looked up from the south park episode he was watching.
"huh? Oh sure. Rose, your shift."
"Screw that Captain, I'm staying here." She shot me a smile as if to say 'I trust you.'
I gave her a smile of gratitude and departed quickly, hoping to avoid any potential dressing downs that might occur. Once in the bathroom I closer. That I was dressed as a miko was obvious the moment I looked down before. But the mirror confirmed a few facts; I was perhaps 5ft 3in or 5ft 4in, tall. My chest was wrapped in a traditional manner, and yet it was easy to see why I lost my balance at first. I had wide hips, and a narrow waist... and my face could probably stop traffic. But the most unusual thing (aside from the hair) were my new eyes.
They were mismatched; one was a clear crystal blue the color of a tropical waterhole, and the other a pure amber gem that looked see through. Very weird.
Since I didn't have to actually go yet, I splashed some water on my face and headed out, my curiousity satisfied. And I walked right into a Mexican stand-off.
My team had their weapons pointed at a tall handsome Japanese male; Cut body, longish ebon hair tied into a ponytail, and arresting grey eyes. I knew immediately who it was, and bowed deeply.
"Inari-sama! What a surprise to see you here."
"Greetings Fuyoko-chan. How are you this fine morning?"
"You know this guy? He just appeared while you were in the can. Big no-no at the moment."
"Lower your weapons captain, he's on our side... and he's a god, so I doubt you could stop him anyway."
"A god?"
"My God specifically; meet Inari-sama, patron god of kitsune everywhere."
"And this is my chief servant on all the world, Fuyuko Yamamoto. Of course I would pay her a visit to see how she is doing after her traumatic night."
I bowed again, using my hair to cover my reddening face and racing thoughts. Inari-sama here personally! Stilling my face, I raised again to find everyone looking at me, Inari-sama calm, while the others present seemed to be in shock.
"What is it? I said before I served him. Of course he will help us in our darkest hour. You WILL help us, won't you Inari-sama?" I turned to him and tried to pile on the charm.
He flinched back melodramatically. "Ack, please stop with those doe eyes Fu-chan! Of course I will help... in fact that is why I am here. I come bearing gifts."
He handed me two pouches that smelled like kidskin, both bearing strange kanji that I did not fully recognize, but looked like 'tough'. One was filled with ofuda (prayer slips used for casting various spells), a fine detail brush and ink for writing on them. The other was empty, and I raised an eyebrow at my benefactor.
"The use of the second bag will become clear in time. The ofuda from the first bag will never run out, and can be used for any of your miko magicks. Nor will the ink."
I bowed deeply.
"Thank you Inari-sama. I am sure they will be useful."
"Of course they will... and now, I'm afraid I have my own preparations to make. so I will depart. Good luck, Fu-chan."
And with a wave, he was gone.
"Well, that was different." Sergeant Dewinter summed it up for us.
"Yes, it is nice to know that Inari-sama will be taking an active role."
The captain opened his mouth, but the quick burping of sub machine guns from the hall quieted his words. Immediately the squad was active, finding cover and pointing guns at the door. I wasn't surprised exactly, but the screams that followed shocked me. They sounded piteous, as if the persons crying out were both in pain, and had lost all hope.
"Oh, enough of this. I'm going to go help, shoot me if you must."
I strode to the door and slammed it open. right outside was a statue of a soldier with a machine gun pointed back down the hall, a frozen expression of horror plastered on his face. A quick flash and I was somewhere else, in an underground temple with frescoes. I slammed the door closed again.
"One moment. You can follow, but stay behind me, otherwise this will end badly."
Using a skill I knew I possessed, I conjured an illusory mirror. It wasn't real, but it would work for my purposes. Closing my eyes, I opened the door again, feeling around the new statue and called out.
"Excuse me, Medusa-san? I hate you and all that you stand for."
"You what!?! Do you know who...I...am...."
I heard cracking sounds and had an idea. Summoning mirror shades through the same ability, I peeked. there was a new statue in the hall, a lady with the lower half of a snake, and snake hair, staring at me with disbelief. She looked vaguely familiar.
"Well, that was easier than I expected. Captain, isn't that the model? Miss Summers?"
"It was... she obviously went off the rails."
"there is a certain amount of irony here. How many did she kill?" Rose chimed in.
I stepped to the door, de-summoning my illusions.
The pockmarked mess that was once an underground suite much like mine greeted me with a forlorn spectral wave.
"Looks like her entire team. the man outside was the only one to escape the initial surprise I think."
"Carstairs. Good man, had the constitution of an ox." Corporal Delgado identified.
We stood in silence for a moment, contemplating developments.
"Well we can't leave him in the hall... can we maybe move him and the snake witch into the suite?"
Everyone glared at Rose.
"What? Too soon?"
"No Rose-san, we do need to be practical. funeral arrangements can wait. Dewinter-san, Berkowitz-san, could you please help?"
By this time we had an audience of military personnel watching us move the new pieces of rock.
"I can perhaps help."
Everyone turned to see an old man in a dirty brown robe looking suspiciously like Gandalf from lord of the rings. With a gesture the man caused Carstairs and Summers to float into the suite.
"Alright, you both helped... now back into your suites so we can be less nervous. alright?"
"Alright, Captain. thank you for your help, wizard-san."
He gave a polite nod and we both went our separate ways, heedless of the weapons pointed at us.
As soon as the door to my suite closed, I turned and bowed apology.
"I apologize if I caused you trouble captain. I just could not stand to do nothing."
"Don't worry about it Fu, you're fine. I might take a little heat, but I don't think you're what my boss had in mind when he gave the order to lock this place down. You didn't seem all that surprised to see who our medusa was though."
"I wasn't Captain. Rose-san stated it; there is a certain amount of irony there. I feel that who we are affects what we become, in a very real sense."
"It's possible I suppose. But those types of thoughts are above my pay grade. Let's all sit down and watch some boring television while we can."
And so we did, trying to shelve our worries as long as possible.
Chapter 5.
I most definitely had some sort of precognitive power; after another vision, this showing me in no uncertain terms what happened to Conrad (he was wizard-san, of all things, and he didn't even tell me!) Then again, he probably did not recognize me at all; I did look much different than I used to. Even when shown a picture of myself, taken days before, it was hard to imagine that person was myself – the body I wore now fit much better.
Well, with the exception of the tails. They were long, fluffy, and very sensitive, and got in the way almost incessantly. I could lower the number out by sending them away (And where did they go, anyway? Did I transform further or simply send them away?) but there had to be at least one; I just couldn't lower the number any further than that.
Even bringing the number down made me more uncomfortable in the human guise I was wearing, as if the wrinkled and worn favorite outfit I was in had become starched and new somehow. But one tail made it much easier to sit down and other things, and made it harder for them to slap me in the face. Or even get caught in doors, which is something that has never ever happened and will be spoken of no more.
Rose was having a ball, of course.
I hadn't seen Betty yet, she was still busy awakening the others. There had been no more incidents like Holly's, though there were a few close calls. Rumor was there was now a guy who was the left hand of Death itself, and there had almost been an... incident.
For my part, I was now painting my beloved Inari-sama. He was beloved despite the fact that a few days ago I'd barely known his name or anything else about him, something I eventually realized. I had changed more than just physically. At least, through Inari-sama's grace, I was able to recognize that I had changed, and what thoughts were changed. I mean, they were all my thoughts, but some were older than others and seemed to work at cross purposes, but both were comfortable, like the new body. Apparently, not everyone could tell the difference... or got confused.
That was what had happened to Holly; she had been one part herself, and one part pissed off snake.
A few of our 'starter fifty', as I liked to think of them, were stable but underwhelming. Like the Hector want-to-be. I wasn't sure the legendary warrior that died in a one-on-one against Achilles was going to be much good; I'd have rather held out for Achilles himself.
Chris, the dark kid, had become a jaded cynic. Well, more of one. I didn't recognize what hero or villain he was supposed to be, but he was even more quiet than he started and for breakfast this morning he had stared.
Some poor guy was an Ogre. Big, dumb, and lumpy. He liked to carry around a log, and even though he mostly grunted, I was still able to understand him oddly enough.
If my visions were accurate at all, a woman named Sandra would go from a heavy fifty-something year old to a Morgana Le Fey clone sometime later today. I was hoping I'd see Betty soon so I could ask for some confirmation, but it was hard with us still being quarantined.
I put the final touches on the painting; the colors wouldn't look at all correct until it was dry, but it wouldn't really do proper justice to him anyway. Rose came over and cocked her head, looking.
“Wow, amazing likeness. I just had to come over here and see what you were sighing about.”
I put the brush down and took a step back. “It just isn't good enough. It never is.”
It didn't matter what I did, my paintings were never good enough. It probably never would be, even if my newer and more delicate hands seemed to have greater fine control. Logic gave way to intuition, as it always must. It was an artist thing, and hard to explain; if you were lucky you got close, and if you were unlucky friends stopped you before you burned the offending piece of canvas and put it on display where anyone could see.
Rose looked to be the type for that, cocking her head again. “It looks exactly like him. It looks so like him, in fact, that it might as well be a photo.”
“It is kind of you to say such words about my unworthy efforts.” The formulaic response just sort of rolled off my tongue, and Rose frowned.
“Were you this good before?”
I looked back at the painting. It looked like my normal efforts to me. More representational than impressionist, which was my normal style, but well within what I remembered my skill to be. So I nodded, stepping towards the bathroom. Next, I would try to paint Betty, I think, but the colors for her were different so I would need to wash things, not the least of which was myself.
“Then I can't figure out why I haven't heard of you; you're good enough to be famous.” Her words angered me, and it took some effort to fight down the searing blast of white-hot rage.
Such a response from me was unusual, wasn't it? “I was not well regarded within the local art community because I refused to compromise my vision, or what I saw as my vision. I also lived far away from the more enlightened places such as New York or Los Angeles.
I had to admit, such anger over my art was not unusual for me. Even if I mostly forgave my fellow man (or used to be fellow man) it was hard to shake the feeling that sometimes rather than having me paint haystacks or dogs for enough money to eat on, they should be willing to enjoy my paintings of breathtaking other worlds and creatures. But it was hard to sell even boring scenery, such as the historical bridge I had been drinking on when picked up by Rose's team.
With a shrug I let the emotion go and started washing my hands. Such thoughts would be helpful for no one at all, least of all myself.
At least I'd managed to miss painting my clothes. I'd hate to have to clean them again today. I walked back out and carefully lifted the painting, placing it in the corner. When it was dry I would frame it and complete my makeshift shrine; I couldn't just worship Inari-sama anywhere, at least not properly.
Sargent Dewinter came in just as I was finished adjusting the new canvas, and made a face at me. “More painting, huh?”
“Unless you have something better to do Sargent, yes.”
He grinned widely, showing a lot of teeth. “But I do! It's lunchtime.”
Unbidden I checked the clock; it read twelve forty-two. I had been awake and painting since shortly after the sun rose, with only a quick stop in the cafeteria for breakfast – before almost anyone else was even awake.
I found the wide-eyed staring from those whose forms were more normal... disconcerting. I did wonder, though, what the people who had yet to undergo Betty's process would think, how they would react, upon seeing the rest of us. If the reaction of the mighty Thor sitting one seat over was to stare at my tails, then what would someone who was 'normal' be? We would not find out; so far they were kept away and in the dark. All that meant one glaring truth for both of us, though; if we didn't go to the cafeteria at the appointed time, we didn't eat. Well, unless our escorts took pity on us.
Pity was in short supply for most of us.
Rose adjusted her weapon, a submachine gun of some type on a sling. “Well, we better go.” We were already a bit late.
They bracketed me down the hall, with Sargent Dewinter in front. We didn't see anyone in the hall, but the cafeteria was as full as ever; I saw immediately that I was too late to talk to Betty about Sandra. Morgana Le Fey she was, a tall ebon-haired woman of voluptuous curves and a coldly aristocratic face and bearing, no older than twenty-five by my best guess. She was beautiful in a way I could not match, and in all likelihood far above my power; the legends about her were very specific in painting her a match in strength and cunning for Merlin. She was sitting alone and being stared at. Her food was untouched.
I grabbed my food (a burger, a medium well steak, and some steak fries) and sat down next to her. “This seat taken?”
She looked up, a little lost, and I gave my one tail an extra shake to make sure she saw it. “Um, no, go right ahead; have we met?”
I shook my head and picked up my burger; I had to use both hands for it. “No, my Name's Fuyuko; it used to be something else. And your name is Morgana, and it used to be Sandra. I'm pleased to meet you.”
I was pleased, but I wasn't about to hold out my hand to shake; I was more hungry than I had known.
Sandra nodded. “Yes, I am Morgana now... I am taking that name, at least. How did you know who I was?”
I swallowed my fourth bite before I grinned. “Powers, of course. You are probably the strongest – magician – here but I have visions, among some of the other things I can do. One showed you as you were, mixed with you as you are today.”
I finished my burger in the comfortable silence before she asked the question plaguing her mind. “Aren't you afraid of me?”
I paused at just the right time but did not hesitate. “Nope. Should I be?” I asked her before stuffing a bite of steak in my mouth. It was good, loaded with pepper and a hint of lemon.
“Well, the legends about me....”
“Have you plotting and overthrowing a kingdom.” I had to interrupt her here; this was important. “I don't see any legendary kingdoms for you to tear down or knights for you to destroy, at least not yet. But more importantly, you want to stop the invasion right? Help save your friends and family?”
The newly minted Morgana nodded, eyes wide.
“Then latch onto that. Don't let who you could be subsume who you are and you'll be fine.”
She thought for a moment, and I finished my steak.
Her next question hit my ears the same time the first fry hit my mouth. “Have you foreseen this?”
I had to make her wait while I chewed. My answer was an easy one; I stared straight at her, straight into her eyes, and lied. I lied because I knew what would happen if I didn't. “Yes.”
She nodded, satisfied, and started eating herself.
Now. Now was the time. “However, if you see King Arthur, limit yourself to polymorphing him into a newt; he's on our side, after all.”
The spit take she made was perfect; she turned around and mock glared, trying to hold it through her slightly manic giggles. “That was bad, and you're bad.”
“I'm a kitsune; a mythical creature known more for its sense of humor and pranks than anything else. We can all fight our nature, but I love a good joke anyway. As long as my past-times don't really hurt anyone, I don't see the harm.”
Perfect, or nearly so. She got the message, nodded, and went back to eating. I got up and waved to her, and she waved back; the others present let out a collective breath and the tension in the room dropped several levels. Rose met me at the garbage can.
She got close and whispered, my body hiding her mouth from those in the room. “That was... uncanny.”
“You saw?” I whispered back. She nodded; of course the military had ways of watching without seeming to, but I hadn't even smelled Rose, and with my nose as good as it now was that was an achievement.
We made it to the hall; with the door closed, I felt better about talking. “Well, Morgana should not forget why she is here. I didn't want to tempt fate.”
“So we won't have her rampaging around, and have to fill her full of holes?”
“That, and so we don't lose one of our strongest legends when the time comes to fight.I have the feeling we will need all the spell casters we have.”
“What about you? Don't you cast spells?”
I didn't, really. They were prayers, power granted me by the gods. Well, in addition to my normal powers... but it was complex to explain, so I just nodded along.
“Of a sort. I'm actually more of a priestess.”
Rose snorted. “Well, yeah, the whole God showing up was a major clue. Fu, I have to ask you something....”
Rose had stopped in the empty hall. I stopped too, wondering where Sargent Dewinter was. Why didn't I ask earlier? “Yes?”
At least her hands were away from her weapons; she wasn't planning on doing something we would both regret. “Did Inari exist before you transformed and come here because you were here, or did your transformation make him?”
Now that was a loaded question. “I can't say for sure which of us came first, but I can say what I suspect.”
She waved me on.
“I suspect he did not, and was created by me. However, in being created by me, he created me, the Fu you see before you. With his powers as a major God, a certain ignoring of the laws of the space and time is to be expected. So in a way, it does matter, yet in another way it does not, as if a God exists at any point in time, they exist in all time, and I do not. Do you understand?”
“Yeah... sure... crystal clear.” Rose's tone made it clear that she did not understand at all, but I did not know how to explain the situation any better, so I let it slide.
We managed another few steps before Rose asked: “So do you think there will be other gods? Others either created or summoned by people like you?”
Ah, so now she gets to her real question. No, that was uncharitable of me; both questions were valid and deserving of answers. Rose wore a crucifix after all, for her, my next answer was very important. “Yes. However which gods will appear and which will not, I wouldn't hazard to guess. I have little doubt that you'll see more of Inari-sama's pantheon, however.”
Belief either created him based on old legends, or drew him forth, or both... and who's belief in a god was stronger than another god's? Just having Inari-sama back would ensure the return of others, even if their power might be less than his.
Well, there would be no might about it, really, but then again wasn't I biased? Amaterasu at least, would have to be very strong, as the embodiment of the sun itself. In a real way, it did not matter; both would be stronger than my humble self.
The real question is would it be enough? Even with all our gods, well the enemy was sure to have gods of their own. Would ours be enough, or would they be outnumbered? How bad would the war in the heavens be?
Had it already started there?
Something told me it had; instinct, perhaps. Inari-sama had not requested my help, however, so it could not be so bad as I feared, yet. I hoped.
Where was Betty? I really needed to see her.
Sargent Dewinter met us just before the door to my room, smiling and waving.
“Where were you, Sargent? I was beginning to worry.”
“I went out for a smoke break while I had the chance.” Was his reply, and it was a lie; I smelled no smoke on him at all and hadn't since I met him.
Great; more secrets. Par for the course, really, and maybe something to be expected. I didn't have to like it, I just had to fight down the flash of rage. Well, that, and resolve to get even later; maybe with salt and pepper in his coffee. Sargent Dewinter liked his coffee.
“Fine, be that way then.” I swept past him and into the room. It was empty; the rest of the team had the night shift for now.
I started on my painting; there was nothing else to do but watch television, nothing else I could do to fight that burning need to move and do.
It was finished and the sun was setting when Captain Harris showed up; it was still too early for his shift, so why...?
“Come on, it's finally our turn again. The halls are clear, let's go, let's go.”
He ushered me out, and it wasn't in the direction of the cafeteria. “Where are we going?”
“Out. Several of the personnel to come here have been evacuated to other points in the country in preparation of the attack for their own safety; it's been decided you're going to be one of them.”
Ah. In other words, I was deemed stable enough now and the priority of the government has changed to make best use of me. Best use apparently meant hiding me away in addition to using me as a rapid responder; I wasn't sure how that was going to work.
Once I settled on ear muffs to reduce the noise, I was loaded onto a helicopter again, this time alone (unless you counted my team) and then we waited until Rose and Sargent Dewinter came huffing up with bags packed. Rose had my paintings or most of them. I guess it was a good thing I didn't work too hard on the shrine.
The flight was long, over an hour; I couldn't talk with anyone, but the door was shut this time so I was able to sketch. I satisfied myself with sketching what I remembered of the rip in space, and how the stars rippled in the sky on the other side of it; recreating that in a painting would be a true challenge.
The ride ended on the carefully manicured lawn of an old plantation. I knew it was an old plantation because of the old plantation house we landed in front of. The house was a mix of Greek influences mixed with something else; the combined effect was a bit odd. Standing at two stories (Two and a half? Three maybe? It was raised) it had a square cupola crowning it. It also wasn't in the best of shape; the paint was beginning to peel, and the stairs and many of the porch timbers were sagging.
It also appeared to be full of ghosts; I could feel them, wafting around like moldy vapors. At least the roof appeared to be intact.
Captain Harris clapped me on the arm. “Don't worry, it's sound. We can whip it into shape easily with a little paint and some furniture.”
“Where are we?” I asked him.
“A place called Rocky Hill plantation, in Alabama somewhere. It's far enough away from all main objectives an enemy army would look for, big enough to station more people at, and isolated enough that if it is attacked, no major population centers will be caught up in it. Places like this were recommended by Betty for those that can teleport, and she mentioned you were one of those.”
I nodded, it made sense.
The inside was like the outside, if in a little better condition. The smell of mold as pervasive, and I could hear worms or other bugs eating the walls and woodwork. There weren't any holes in the floor, but there were carpets in such poor condition that I didn't want to walk on them; they would actually dirty my boots worse than the ground outside.
“How long will it take?” To me, it looked like it would take time, effort, and money. Maybe too much.
“Well, we'd have to be careful not to draw too much attention with calling contractors and driving material in, so a bit longer. For everything? Months, probably. The place isn't set up for modern amenities and running water, but we can get a generator shipped in and....”
No. No way. I refused. “No, that will not be happening.”
Captain Harris's hands tightened around his gun as he turned to me. What did he think I meant? Had I made him angry somehow? Well, I didn't really care because I wasn't living like an uncultured savage.
“What do you mean, Fu?”
“I mean, as a priestess of the great Inari-sama, staying at some run down ruin of a building is beneath my station. I can see the necessity but this house makes a poor shrine as it stands, and your statement of months implies I will be stationed here for months, and others may well be stationed with me for months. That is simply unacceptable. Even you must admit a lack of desire to stay here, sacked out on the fetid floor like a hunted animal brought to bay.”
I was checking the stairs gingerly when I realized he had stopped. The entire team had stopped, and were staring at me with hard faces, guns not quite up and pointed my way. “And what do you intend to do about it, Fu?”
This was confusing. What did they think I was going to do? Surely they didn't think I was going to attack them over it?
“Well, I intend to restore the house. I can hide the changes made, and we can also have beds and showers. With any luck at all, tonight.”
The weapons got slung again.
“How are you planning on doing all that?”
I smiled at him and stopped before I put a foot through a stair. “I'll show you. Bring my stuff in, please.”
I went through my bags in the parlor, getting the correct tools together; the candles and blessed items. My painting of Inari-sama and a small glass of rice wine completed the shrine. Luckily no one asked where I'd gotten it. Lighting the candles I began my chant.
Inari-sama appeared almost immediately. “Yes, my dear Fuyuko-chan?”
I bowed low. “Inari-sama, I am pleased to see you well. I have a bit of a problem I could use some assistance with, if it is not too much trouble.”
Inari-sama rubbed the back of his head with a hand. “If I can help you I will, Fuyuko-chan, but I am very busy. What situation do you need assistance with?”
In response I gestured, waiting for Inari-sama to take in my surroundings. “This is the location given me by the United States government to turn into a temple fitting of your magnificence. I have only two days left to do so before the enemy invades, assuming Betty's timetable is still correct. I lack the time to properly prepare this site.”
Inari-sama sighed and looked around again. “You're lazy, Fuyuko-chan.”
Well, that was blunt. And I wasn't lazy, just impatient!
Inari-sama held up a hand to stall my answer. “But you're also right. A proper temple is important; important enough at this juncture to warrant intervention. You prepare your end, and I will do my part. However, please note that it will still require consecration when the renovations are finished.”
I bowed low. “If I might speak, Inari-sama....”
He sighed again. “Yes, Fu-chan, I'll include indoor plumbing with hot water. Go, and make your wards.”
I stayed low and backed out of the room; Inari-sama was already opening the portal he required, and his yokai were already flooding from it in a tide, repairing things as they went.
It would be a game, to see which would finish first; them or myself. I dropped to all fours and headed for the tree line.
And only after I reached it did the image I'd seen, of a special forces team showing the whites of their eyes as the spirits flocked around and through them, bother me. They were going to be very angry with me. Well, I HAD warned them I would be using magic to help fix the place, and they had not objected. I just hadn't told them whose magic I'd be using.
The sun was setting before I was finished slapping spell slips on trees and engraving wards on stones around the property; anyone or thing from further away than two kilometers would see the mansion in its previous state and without a soul present. The illusion would hold regardless of sight or sound until a person stepped across the boundary. Stepping away from the inscribed boulder with a sigh, I looked to the house.
It was obvious I hadn't been fast enough; Even the outbuildings were clearly repaired; even the brick tower attached with a connecting wall was now in perfect shape and a nice shiny (if dark) red. I dropped down and raced back again; perhaps they weren't done with the inside.
They were. I stood up in the once again grand double parlor to find Inari-sama and his host gone, and my escort still where I'd left them, though they were all sitting on the floor. There was one spirit remaining, and it had a list of the changes made to accommodate us; it was fretfully long and thorough. The spirit vanished with a salute after handing me the list, and everyone else in the room breathed a sigh of relief.
Inari-sama hadn't even stayed here to direct them; they had added the water pumps fed from an underground spring all on their own. And where had they found the hot spring to tap!?! This wasn't even an area for that!
“Fu, are you pouting?”
I crumpled the sheet to find Rose looking at me, her hand on the remote to the large television hanging off the wall. When had they installed satellite!?! Where did they even put the dish?!?
“No, Rose-san, I'm fine. Why do you ask?”
“Because you look like you're pouting.” Private Arman stated as he got up and sunk experimentally into the very comfortable looking couch. The television came on to a baseball game; I recognized the station as a paid sports channel.
I shook my head. “I am not pouting, Arman-san.”
I went into the kitchen. There was an icebox in it, and it was filled with ice. Most of the contents of said icebox were beer, and several bottles of sake were set out on one of the counters. The sink was now a large metal affair not that different from a small bathtub, and there was a pump handle and spigot over it. I checked it – hot water. There was another pump handle in the corner, which was cold, over a tiled inset portion of the floor.
I went back to the parlor, this time giving a proper look to the rest of the house passed along the way; to the restored or replaced furniture, the now brand new floors, the restored wainscoting and trim. I could hear not one insect or mouse in the walls.
“She's definitely pouting.” Sargent Dewinter announced as I re-entered the room. Captain Harris looked at him; it wasn't a happy look.
“Alright, that's enough. You're all getting soft – I want a secure perimeter, now. Anything bigger than a rat and I want to know it's out there, got it? All of you, go; take the cardinal points.”
They got up and saluted, then left without a word. Rose at least turned the television off. Without it on I could hear the Captain muttering about how soft they'd gotten clearly.
I checked the list again and walked off while he was still in mid-rant.
While the toilet had been moved (there were now two, one in a room that used to house slaves near the tower, and the other the original bathroom) A new room had either been added or converted to a hot springs bath. The temperature was just right, judging by the steam that wavered up. The entire room was coated marble tile, floor to ceiling, just as a Greek or Roman bath might be, and boasted the same type of columns. There was even a rinsing pool, in the Roman style – right next to the pump handles clearly meant to be used for bathing and rinsing the Japanese way.
There were five of those, which seemed a bit excessive.
Captain Harris walked up, stopping behind me. “This is....”
“The bathroom, Harris-san.”
“Crazy. Your god works fast.”
I nodded. I knew without looking that the bedrooms would be lavish, much like the one I left behind in the bunker. Not just mine, but all of them. The former slave quarters were unpurposed but had fold up tables, chairs, and beds. The cellar was not stocked of course, but cool and now dry, with no lingering rot; it could be used to store food again.
I was glad Inari-sama had provided sake; I needed some.
Back in the kitchen, I found the masu right where I expected to; in the cupboard to the left of the icebox. It was just like Inari-sama to have a full complement, from the sakazuki to the ochoko, and yet have the traditional wooden cup used for festivals as well, made out of Japanese cypress.
I opened the first bottle and filled it. The Captain pulled down another, so I filled his. We saluted and downed it, the fire it contained lighting and warming us.
“There are Japanese cherry trees in the back yard.” The captain said, and I refilled our glasses. We downed those in the same manner.
It was almost a relief when Betty walked in the door; I would have to work on wards barring entry. Then it occurred to me that Inari-sama had meant both kinds of wards when he spoke with me earlier; I had been beaten even worse than I had suspected.
“Come on Fuyuko, we don't have time for that! I need you to open a gate back to the complex right now!”
I was in an honest to gods four post bed; I didn't recognize the wood grain. I also didn't recognize the hand fondling the wood grain. Or the hand with which I reached out to that first hand, though both were my own. They were both small, delicate, hairless and a pale white.
Last night they were larger, callused, and a healthy nut brown color.
Nagrij
I woke all at once, with none of the customary hangover effects. That alone was puzzling, if welcome. The last thing I remembered, I had been visiting the last bar of the evening - my fifth. I had been celebrating getting my job as a legal aide to the firm Jenson, Jenson, and Jenson. Pretty good for a recent law school graduate, a middle rung firm, nothing like dealing in the big leagues, but solidly middle class clients. Small businesses, a few activist groups, and every once in awhile one of the few really sensational cases that hit Ohio like a meteor, with the same frequency.
Cataloguing effects, I realized immediately I wasn't at home. The bed was too soft, and somehow lumpy at the same time. As if the box springs had not been included. Feeling around, I started paying attention to what my eyes were telling me.
I was in an honest to gods four post bed; I didn't recognize the wood grain. I also didn't recognize the hand fondling the wood grain. Or the hand with which I reached out to that first hand, though both were my own. They were both small, delicate, hairless and a pale white.
Last night they were larger, callused, and a healthy nut brown color.
" ...Thefuck?"
my voice had also shrank, from a nice baritone to a light melodious saprano. I looked down but was unable to tell much, swaddled in thick quilts as I was. It actually required a fair amount of effort to pull them off, and I discovered....
"No no no no nonononono!"
I came back to myself in the bathroom, or what was left of it. The place was shocking. The shower was a clawed tub, made perhaps of brass. the counter and medicine cabinet were both made of wood, common cedar lacquered to a glow. there were at least three buckets, slatted wood banded by iron. There were no taps to be seen. There was no toilet. And the mirror....
It was a large piece of what had to be steel, polished somehow to a mirror finish;there were a few places that were a little warped, it was not perfect. Not silver backed glass at all. Mirrors like this hadn't been made for centuries, I was sure. And it was showing a small woman, petite and fine boned. Skin so pale she glowed in the light, hair dark as a ravens wing, and eyes of pale lavender. Young yes, but not a quite a little girl; the breasts were plainly tenting the elaborate dress she wore, and her hips flared outward with an appreciable curve.
She also had pointed ears. When I moved my hair back, I could see them. And of course that acknowledgement was what had set me off in the first place; the room wasn't some strange throwback, the entire house was. And I had pointed ears and breasts. Looking back out, I noticed the hall had no lights; I looked back into the bathroom; it had a candleabra hanging from the ceiling, a crude looking iron affair, all black with large uneven rivets.
The kitchen looked positively barbaric; something out of the 12th century. the counters were heavy oak, There were pots hanging from some sort of framework. The knife rack was far from the machined block I was used to, and the knives were larger. The oven was a large stone fireplace with some sort of iron contraption set off to the side, and a hook on a crude hinge. The fire was set, but not lit, and an absolutely huge cauldron was placed over it. Iron seemed to be the order of the day. The fridge was instead a huge chest...filled with ice, and what appeared to be mutton, cheese and butter.
Oh crap. I felt lighter than air as I ran back to my den. The heavy oaken door was only the start of what was wrong there. My desk was absolutely huge, a dark almost black wood with intricate scrollwork depicting forest scenes. A heavy, crude table held glass bottles, beakers, and tools which I vaguely recognized. the problem was I shouldn't recognize them at all, I
never did take chemistry.
And my pride and joy, my two thousand dollar computer... well if this was some how my house. It seemed to be since the layout was exactly the same, and my house was one of those odd sprawling ranch houses that had had additions. And if it was, my prize computer rig was a large wood bound book, complete with a what looked to be a brass locking plate. Unwillingly I found myself getting close. Yes it was a locking plate, shiny brass. It had a keyhole, inset in a circular plate which held a depression of a hand. The name of the book was "The various mysteries", written in beautiful caligraphy. The picture was of some sort of woman with four arms, holding the elements in each. It was not at all a victim of mass production.
There did not seem to be a single device made after the 16th century... unless it was made by the Amish.
Oh hell, what about outside?
The windows were just little wooden... doors? shutters? With a small bar locking them shut. I picked one in the kitchen to open. It was supposed to show a nice maple tree outside my front lawn, and my attached garage. Instead it showed the same maple tree, right down the the gnarled right hand branch I broke while Climbing it as a child, and some sort of unattached outbuilding. The breeze was welcome at least.
My house was still at the end of the street, as it always was. On the outskirts of town. A changed town, with thatched roof houses made of wood - crude wood planks or logs in some cases, chinked with some substance that thankfully was not mud. Or at least I didnt think it was, it was white. there were no street lights, or cars. No mailboxes, no perfectly manufactured fences. The grass wasn't cut.
The street wasn't even paved. It was beaten earth, a track leading directly from my house. My house was different though; it was cut stone, finely placed. At least if my kitchen wall was any judge. I eased the shutters back till they were almost closed, so I could look out hopefully unobserved.
There was no way this could be a dream; even if my imagination was this good (it wasn't) I'd never felt the texture of cut stone in a dream before. The cool stone block my hand was pressed to was just too... there to ignore. No motion save that caused by the wind outside. No people, no animals. Barely any sound. The sun was barely on it's way up. Had I really woken up so early? If I wasn't completely crazy (a big if) then I'd only slept about 2 hours, tops.
I felt rested enough, without even the hint of mental fog I should have. Or perhaps that was the secret; maybe I had been slipped a hallucinogen while in that last bar. Hmm... but if so, this was one of the best hallucinations I'd heard of. There were no out of place elements. No random BS to make you go "whoa, I be trippin'", it was all very mundane so far... if you were
living in the dark ages or something. Still, that might be the explanation. It would certainly explain why I wasn't hung over, and could feel things. Might even explain the damn dress. Less explainable of course, was how I filled said dress out, or why I could feel bounce on my chest when I moved.
It's a sad day when you have to hope that you've been given a psychodelic with long term drawbacks by unscrupulous persons. With nothing else to do, I decided on making tea. there was a tea kettle hanging from a hook near the unlit fire. It looked like I could just swing it in, to the side of the cauldron. I checked the cabinets; despite their new appareance (as old hand carved things of decent workmanship, showing a garden in bloom across their doors) the tea was exactly where I left it; the second cabinet to the right. In a rough hemp bag, as leaves.
I knew how to brew tea the old time honored way of course, so I took the flint and steel (also hanging on a small hook above the mantle) and struck, lighting the fire. Luckily enough, the kettle sloshed full. I tasted it with a finger. It was water, tasting slightly of metal from it's stay in copper. I had no idea where the water's source was. There was no source for it inside the house, but it stood to reason if I had somehow been whisked away to Amish-land, that there would be an outside well.
So I let the tea steep a bit while I pondered. Everything had it's place, and that place was where I would put it. Or to be more precise, where I had put it's counterpart in my house. The tea was where my tea had been, and while not being lipton it was tea. The icebox, filled with food that I would prefer (I was most thankfully not a vegetarian) was where my refridgerator
used to be. The bed was where my sleep comfort bed used to reside. Now unless someone had played the most elaborate prank in the history of the world, everything I owned had become some sort of dark ages or Medieval era counterpart.
Which does nothing to explain the pointy ears. Or the breasts. Or the unobstructed breeze between my legs. Or the size. Last I heard gender reassignment couldn't take a foot off your height, or give you bones about the same size as a birds. The dress even looked... well good. I could admit to myself that if I were really a chick like this in a strange bizarro Amish world, I would own a dress like this. Dark blue skirt attached to a short sleeved white top with light blue accents. It did not constrict much, and was made of light cotton. Hardly my first choice, but if that was the fashion I could do worse.
Movement pulled my eye. One of my neighbors was cautiously stepping out into the now bright summer morning. It was Phil. Phil was a middle aged accountant that worked for some H R block clone. He was prematurely graying, balding, and beginning to broaden a bit at the waist. Divorced with two kids he was paying for, he was a thoroughly beaten man.
At least, all that was true last night. This morning he was still prematurely gray, and still balding. But he appeared to have lost a good 50 pounds off his middle. He also had biceps bigger than my own had been - maybe bigger than my new thighs.
Pretty good exercise program for a single night.
At the same time, it was obviously Phil; it was still his face. He had come out of what would be Phil's house in bizarro world, even though it had gone from a neo-colonial to a wood planked single story house with a rush roof. Still a bit of a worry wart, he stepped out onto his now unkempt lawn, a large stick in his right hand. It had the look of a weapon.
Well not my first choice on who to see, but beggars can't choose, I suppose.
The door out was just past the living room, which was a room I had till this moment blown by, and I wasn't sure I had the time to catalogue it now, but.... Well the loom stopped me. An honest to the Gods loom, sitting there with bundles of thread and cloth under it. Hell. No. In the other corner was a guitar and dulcimer, the center of the room was taken up by a large
couch formed into a half circle. Of course my television and dvd player were missing. In their place was a fireplace, with some sort of iron box set near it. The box had holes and shapes cut into it.
Enough, no time to explore all this. There was a sword and dagger hanging on a peg next to the door. I left the sword but took the dagger. Opening the door got me immediate attention from a slightly shell shocked neighbor. I rushed out, realized I had forgotten shoes, and rushed back to find a pair of beautifully crafted but painfully small looking leather boots. Phil started walking towards me as I was shoving my feet in them (of course they fit), and so we met nearly in my yard. He towered over me by a good foot or more, and by weight alone could likely make 2 of me.
I struck first.
"Philip, is that you?"
What the... Philip? Where had that come from, I'd always called him Phil before.
"It is lady Muse, do you... ?"
He stopped dead, an almost comical look of confusion on his face. I'd have laughed if I was sure my face didn't mirror it. He tried again.
"Lady Muse?"
It was like he wanted to say my name, but his mouth was forming other words against his will. I gave it a shot.
"That is not my name."
He nodded.
"And yet it is."
He nodded again.
"Your name is Philip, and my name is... "
I led him on, hoping he could connect the dots. He tried.
"N N NN Ne-lady Muse."
He shot clear through confusion to outright alarm, and I was right on his heels.
"I've been your neighbor for years, right?"
He nodded.
"I didn't look like this yesterday?"
He shook his head and added his own two copper.
"Heck, I didn't look like this yesterday; and you... well, you were a guy!"
So if this was a hallucination, it was a shared one.
"You don't think someone spiked our food with shrooms or something, do you?"
He shook his head.
"Too persistent for a drug trip my lady, is everything in your house changed like mine?"
I refused to tell him about the stupid loom. I wasn't making clothes for anyone, screw that. though, he looked like he needed new ones, that homespun wool tunic and pants couldn't be comfy....
With a shake of my head I snapped otu of it.
"Yeah it's all changed, got fireplaces and copper pots and my computer's gone."
He nodded grimly.
"Same here, I wonder how far it spreads? I mean judging by all the houses whatever happened hit the entire street at the very least."
"No."
"No?"
"No... I hear no cars, no trucks, no engines or anything else. No sirens or anything else. Whatever it was hit the entire town. Let's take a walk."
"Um, sure."
I pointed to his stick.
"Expecting trouble?"
"Not sure, seemed like a good idea at the time. you were too I think."
He pointed to my dagger.
"Won't argue the point. I'm kinda hoping that everyone else isn't as big as you. I can already tell you I hate feeling tiny."
He laughed.
"You are pretty runty, but that's the way elves are, right?"
We stared at each other, the unwanted epiphany bonding us both in that moment.
"Well, at least I'm not a vulcan, that'd be just plain disturbing. Come on."
More people were beginning to come out now, hesitant and bewildered but following our example. There were numerous calls and I heard my new name more than once, spoken with at least a touch of awe. what that meant, I had no idea. Yesterday most of these people wouldn't do more than give me the polite brush off. One of my worst fears was realized.
Even the women were larger than I was. Heck, Laura miles, our resident bottle bleach blonde (who was no longer blonde, but instead a brown that could best be described as dirty diaper brown) stood a full head taller than me. She looked roughly the same, still very pretty, but dressed in gray wool like perhaps half the people present. I saw only one person in cotton, and
that was her father, the owner of the village bank. There was a rather disturbing amount of cured leather though; quite the BDSM crowd here.
And of course I was the only one who looked so... drastically unlike themselves.
Each neighbor that came out and joined our walk sank my hopes a little more. I had REALLY hoped I had somehow licked the wrong frog or something. But they all looked of a piece, they were not Amish (there was more than a little swearing) and the entire population of 2500 could not lick the same frog. It just couldn't happen. My mind switched almost unwillingly to something in the water... but I never drank water. Fish poo in water, it's just not safe!
We made our way through the next few streets, now spotting other groups like ours. Everywhere I looked I saw homespun wool, leather, and bewilderment. In many cases outright fear. More than on person, opening their door and spotting my group or another, simply shut it again.
the final streets, in the center of town, were paved with rough cobbled stone inset into the ground to make a roughly smooth surface. On main street, where our few businesses were located, there were even more spectacular changes. Our bed and breakfast, once a rather large rambling 2 story house that rented rooms to people lost enough to find us, was an inn.
It no longer looked like a house at all, being a large 2 story box made of logs. The sign out front depicted a sleeping ogre. There were no words. Next to it, and I mean right next to it, was a stable. It was a complete stable, with horses and mules, as well as a few oxen. The building shouldn't even be there. Yesterday it was... it was... hell, what was it yesterday? Ah, an ice cream shop!
I know I expected that business to fold in a matter of months, but this was kind of a spectacular way to fail.
Several paces beyond the stables was another building; it used to belong to Matt, who had taken over his fathers' repair shop and garage. Matt and his father Brian could always repair anything with a motor, and almost anything that ran on electricity. They never threw anything out, a stance which saw the city try to evict them more than once. Something about beautification and property values.
Their business had become a blacksmiths. Sign depicting an anvil, open barnlike half of the building with a great fire roaring inside, tools hung up along the walls. Three anvils of differing sizes placed next to multiple large buckets. And most importantly perhaps, Brain Lockland stoking the aforementioned fire with a long iron poker. I altered my course.
"Hey Brian!"
He turned to look and waved. Then went back to poking the fire. Finally I got close enough, running to outpace my entourage. I think I summed up the situation rather well.
"Brian, what the hell?!?"
"Good morning Muse. Thought I'd get an early start on the day, things are going to get hectic around here."
"But... but... what the hell?!?"
He got close, towering over me. Darn it, why is everyone so huge? He was already redolent with the smell of sweat, and made Philip look small.
"Simple math, my lady. Yesterday I knew how to repair carburators. Today I know how to shoe a horse or fix a wagon wheel. I do want to know exactly what happened, perhaps even as much as you want to know. But that is a mystery for wiser heads then mine to unravel. so for now, I stoke the fire and prepare the steel and iron."
He raised his voice, turning away from me and back to the fire.
"Don't hesitate to let me know if you find anything out."
"Um, sure."
He felt like the entire problem was too big for him, so he passed? I didn't get it. To be that passive was anethema to me. Perhaps he'd feel like I do if he woke up a shrimp of a woman. Perhaps when I was done trying to deal with this, I'd ask him.
"Does Matt feel the same way?"
he grabbed a chunk of metal and threw it in the fire.
"Matt is not awake; he said something earlier this morning about drinking with some buddy of his, celebrating a new job."
Oops. Of course Matt had been with me; but with my hangover cured. Why wasn't his? Or wasn't it? I felt rested, didn't he?
"I didn't feel like waking him Muse, he'll come to the world in his own time."
"Alright, got it. Try to keep sane, OK?"
"You too."
I moved on, head awhirl. The crowd was milling around behind me, muttering to each other in such a way that I could pick nothing useful out.
"When you lot figure it out, let me know, alright? Until then there is work to be done."
"Sure thing." I called, wondering what he saw that I didn't. I was pretty sure I was as lost as the rest of the people here, including him. The choice to just wake up, know smithing, and decide to live as a blacksmith seemed surreal.
And what did I know? How to play the dulcimer. How to weave cloth. How to cook, but I always knew a bit about that. No now I knew how to cook dark ages style, roasts on spits and similar things. Looking around I could see people as lost as I was... but it was easy to see them as farmers, or herders, or hunters. Heck the local dollar store had been converted to a general
store. But yesterday I knew law. I had studied years to gain knowledge of the law. And today I knew... what?
I didn't know, but I did know that my hard earned education was gone. Precedents, amendments, even tax law - it all drew a blank. Maybe that was one of the secrets of this thing. Brian could work as a smith because he had been given the knowledge; it had been popped into his head like it belonged there, and the rest of us didn't have that, perhaps?
Or maybe it was just that he, like me, thought that there was no way to make sense of this mess, and wanted to leave it to wiser heads? I could relate to that.
I snuck my way along the edge of the crowd, taking note of other changes. Beyond our new general store/market, was a two story home, made of rather handsome brick. A bit crude by the standards I was used to, but much better than anything else this morning, save perhaps my house. I knew Mayor adam Conratty lived there, and today he was up early (for him). He was one of the few that while bigger than I, would not tower over me like a giant.
Small, with sparse brown hair in a ridiculous comb over and rich clothes - a pair of cotton trousers, a silk shirt and dark red leather vest, he cut a rather ludicrous figure. His toupee was missing of course, but as if to replace it he had a sword buckled to his side. He was talking to Ed landrys, our village sheriff, in front of his house.
Ed was very different. Of medium height and build before, his weight had shifted from his middle to his arms. He looked a bit like a tank with legs. He also looked a bit younger than his 40 years. He had on leather pants, with a cotton shirt and ring mail over that. A very large sword hung from his back, and an axe from his belt. I did my best to sneak up.
" ...still, we have to find out just what all this is! The people will expect us to know!"
"I understand that mayor, but we've no phones, no computers, no electricity, hell there was a railroad line that cut through here yesterday, and it's gone. My car was a white horse this morning, no cb on that. We'll have to walk anywhere, and see if we can get to a big city, find out what they know."
"And that through what appears to be wilderness now. Oh, hello lady Muse. Interesting day, isn't it?"
Well since they saw me I edged closer. The look in the mayor's eye wasn't exactly filling me with confidence though. It was as if he were setting me up for something.
"Interesting is an understatment gentlemen. I see the same phenomenon hit here. It hit the entire town?"
Ed answered.
"It did, everything from your street to the rail line, which is now a tannery. The stench is... well it's bad."
"I can imagine."
I'd been to a tannery before. I wondered for a moment why these two were so chatty with me, since I was one of the citizenry they wouldn't want to panic, but shelved that in favor of voicing the fear we all had.
"So chances are, this isn't just some local thing. The train tracks disappearing and trees here suggest that this may have hit all over."
Yesterday, fields were pretty much all that were around this village for miles. Now today, while there were still a few fields, great old growth trees had sprang up over night, and to the east and west of us were actual forests.
"It might be. but it could be that just our stretch was hit by this... whatever it was. The tracks, and roads and such could start back up just a few miles down the road. We will need to find out."
"But which way?"
"Best direction would be north, but I checked. Our road north is gone. So whoever we send should probably go east, then try to head north. Best choice to go would be Toledo, bound to have some answers there."
I had to ask.
"Well can't we just go overland to the north? Even without a road it can't be that bad."
Ed looked at me grimly.
"Roads, even unpaved ones, denote civilization. Going just straight north sounds good, but we don't know what else is out there. It could be nothing is. but it could be something is. It could even be that whatever did this to us, is."
"I see your point. I think a town meeting needs to be called, and this plan needs to be worked out by everyone. See you two a bit later."
I'd spotted something else down the distance, in what could only be our new village green, in the center of town where the park once stood. An old fashioned well, with buckets and all. Some of the women were drawing water and talking next to it. I only recognized the mayors wife, Sylvia Conratty.
She was a gossip and a harpy.
When I was a child, before I put away childish things, I used to skate. One year my friends and I made a plywood half-pipe. having no where else to put it, we spent our own money to buy the materials and made it in the park. Thanks to my dad, we had the city's permission and everything.
It was only up a month before Sylvia petitioned to have the 'eyesore' demolished. She didn't stop until it was. It took a month, but she managed. A terrible end to a wonderful summer spent catching air. That was a decade ago. That decade had not been kind to her; she had lost much of her trophy wife looks. Her blonde hair was now the color of used dishwater, her face sagging.
You could say I was a bit bitter.
She was a study of contrasts this morning. On the one hand, she was obviously miserable to be doing any sort of work herself, let alone something so domestic as drawing water. As I approached she drank half of it and sent the bucket down again. On the other hand, she seemed to be in her gossipy element, holding court among her own neighbors.
" ...And I think that... oh, lady Muse. Good morning."
Well, this did not bode well.
"A good morning of sorts. If I may?"
I gestured at the well, and she moved back.
"Of course! Please, help yourself."
I took over, drawing the bucket up.
"So, you were saying?"
"Oh, we were just discussing how all this could be possible."
Finally the bucket reached the top and I used my hands to cup the water and drink. The good Sylvia, with poor grace, took the rest into her own bucket almost immediately. No doubt already plotting to boil it to remove my germs.
"By all means continue. You had a culprit in mind?"
"Well I would almost think that it would have to be...."
"AAAHHHHHHH HELP ME!"
I headed to the sound of the screams without further ado. whatever she thought was probably wrong, and stupid in ways I didn't want to contemplate. The scream had come from the north, on the outskirts of town. Kind of ironic, in a way.
I reached the end of the street just as ED passed me; with a long effortless stride he made it look easy. Vigo Iverson had always been a farmer, he owned and worked a good 500 acres yesterday. I was willing to bet that today he cultivated less. He ran past me in his underwear, not seeing me or anyone else. After taking a look toward the end of town, I didn't blame him at
all.
...was that a dinosaur?
Vigo's house had always been a lavish thing before, a three story rambling place just past the village limits. I couldn't really tell how well made it was anymore because of the two legged lizard currently sitting on it. Luckily Vigo was a widower whose children had long since moved away, so we could be reasonably sure no one had been hurt, yet.
And yet, dinosaur. Two legged, short stubby arms, a good 15 feet tall if it was an inch. and the teeth, big as knives of course. The name learned in childhood, when most kids learn them came swimming into focus: Tyrannosaurus Rex. The king of tyrants, or something. It was a brown that might have blended into the forest if it weren't so big, with a tough looking hide and large three toed feet tipped in claws as long as my arm.
And of course Ed goes ahead and charges the darn thing with a war cry. Takes a swipe at the toe and his sword bounces off. Amazingly, Ed dodges the lunge by that huge head, rolling just out of the way. I looked between this melee, and my dagger. Ed was alone. Everyone else who had come to gawk was behind me, or busy following Vigo. Distantly I heard doors slam.
I had to do something... but what could I do? The answer came from the mouths of idiots.
I spotted Melvin entering stage left. Now Melvin was a kid, years younger than I was. He was also a huge nerd. For some reason during my college years, when I was still frequenting the lone comic shop in our area (the Dragon's Hoard, next town over) he had bonded to me like a kicked puppy. For years he had engaged in a soft form of stalking, trying to get me involved
in his role playing groups and live action activities. Of course I said no, that crap gave me the hives.
So I knew when I saw him coming out in a rough brown woolen robe, rushing past me towards the possible dinosaur unarmed, that it would be good. Good in the most bad, awful way.
Melvin stopped 30 feet away from the death match, where a bloodied Ed had his blade up between him and the now confused lizard. He began making throwing motions with his right hand and screaming.
"Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt!"
Oh my gods... was he trying to live action the thing to death?
The dinosaur turned from him to Ed and back again, fixing them both with it's beady eyes. No doubt trying to decide who to eat first. Another look at Ed's sword decided it; obviously Ed was tougher to digest. With a bellow it started towards Melvin. And of course that's when it happened.
I could see the texture of the creature's skin, minute pebbles. I could see Melvin pale and scream louder, with more raw panic. The acidic stench of urine hit my nose like a flood.
And the lightning bolt formed in my mind, a structure somehow conforming to atmospheric dynamics and the laws of physics. Both things I only barely understood. But I knew... I KNEW that beyond a shadow of any doubt, that the lightning bolt in my mind was real and would strike the dinosaur.
That it would in fact kill the dinosaur.
For a millisecond or a year, that image held in my mind. Unspent potential digging like a splinter in my core. Then when I could stand it no longer, I released it.
And a real honest to gods lightning bolt flew from my outstretched hand and struck the dinosaur in the face. I slitted my sensitive eyes against the discharge, but managed to see the poor creatures eyes cross before it fell over like a cow receiving a bolt in the head at a slaughterhouse. Also like the cow, it did not move. Ed walked over and plunged his huge sword into a handy eye. The thing didn't even twitch.
"That was awesome! That was so amazing! And you're an elf hottie now, that's so cool! Teach me how to do that!"
Melvin danced around me, oblivious to his own close call. He had been a bit too close to the discharge - he now sported an afro that would do a 70's exploitation film proud. The sour stench of his urine completed the image, as he danced around in soiled robes.
I couldn't help myself. I laughed.
(tbc)
I quickly noticed my laughter had a rather manic edge to it that I did not like at all, so I stopped.
"Melvin, go take a bath. Now, please."
Melvin, who had still been dancing in victory, stopped with a suddenly sheepish expression.
"Sorry."
Despite myself, I softened. The kid brought out the worst in me, really.
"It's fine, OK? It's fine. Just... go bathe. you stink a bit."
He nodded and ran back inside his own home. For a brief moment I wondered where his parents were, then dismissed the thought in favor of more immediate concerns. At least now I knew why they were all calling me a lady, though the Muse thing still made no sense.
Made perfect sense to be ultra polite to someone who could dump a lightning bolt on your head. And the term lady here was obviously meant as a salve to the ego. I turned to Ed, who was still poking the dinosaur with his sword.
"It's dead you know, you made very sure."
He nodded with some puzzlement still evident.
"Indeed, though I've no doubt your spell was the true culprit behind the beast's demise. I was simply wondering how good an armor the hide would make. And also whether or not the beast is good to eat."
He must have seen something in my expression.
"What my lady? We don't want it going to waste, do we?"
No, I guess we can't have that. Besides, how would we bury the thing?
"I guess not... just check it for parasites before you go cooking it. Not fond of eating worms."
"A good point. alright you men, get some ropes! We'll drag this thing out of town and cook it there!"
Shudder. Was I the only one that had sanity left? Well judging by the amount of foot dragging as Ed's 'help' threw ropes around the carcass and oxen were brought and harnessed into place, I might not be. though I guess eating it is a better option than burying all of it. Ed only had one deputy, hmm....
"Mayor Conratty?"
Oddly enough for all the of the crowd's low grade roar, the minute I spoke up with a polite tone and only a bit more force than normal, I was heard immediately. The crowd had upon my approach, stifled itself almost completely. No doubt I would be fully ostrasized by nightfall. I shook my head - there were more important things to worry about than my social life.
"Yes lady Muse, what is it?"
"Mayor, Ed only has one deputy."
"Yes, Karl. a bright young lad as I recall, fresh out of college...."
"Yes Mayor, but maybe we need to help them both. I think we should set a watch."
He cocked his head, looking like nothing so much as a turkey in that moment - confused and flightless, with little recourse save waddling and clucking. Or whatever sound turkeys actually make.
"A watch?"
"Yes, a watch. People watching the woods and plains from the outskirts of town to make sure that another predator can't sneak up and attack our friends and neighbors without timely response from us. As it stands, we are nearly defenseless."
The change from bird to calculating politician was immediate and remarkable.
"An excellent suggestion! Philip, find Karl, tell him to pick some men! Good stout men! We can watch at the corners...."
I left the planning session without a word; I had to find Vigo. He wasn't anywhere in the crowd, but well beyond it at the well, back to the stones that made it. Hunched and miserable, unless I missed my guess.
"Vigo."
"N-lady Muse."
"Don't worry, the house isn't as bad as it looks. I think only one room is affected, and maybe the supports for the upper story where the head came in."
"Thank goodness for that - what was it lady Muse?"
Well confusion was a better sight than shell shock, and it seemed to be the order of the day anyway.
"A kind of dinosaur. A T-Rex I think. Remember 'Jurassic Park'?"
"but... how did it get here? I mean one minute I'm looking for my entertainment center, the next there is a face through it. I didn't even the thing come up, though I wasn't really listening for it. I mean, who expects to be attacked by a dinosaur?"
"Well safe to say not a soul worried about it before today. Was there anyone else at home?"
He looked at me oddly for a moment.
"I live alone lady Muse, you know that."
So certain circumstances didn't seem to change. Vigo seemed a small sample to draw from, but he was merely the last. I'd been noting wedding rings, who left and entered certain houses, and oft stolen glances between certain participants. I now felt safe in assuming that marriages, trysts, and any other arrangements survived whatever had happened this morning. Which meant that Vigo's surviving relatives should be states away, and beyond any immediate help we could give or receive.
But you can't take such things for granted when you wake up a wisp of a girl. I was suffering from a severe lack of information, but I was sure of one thing. There were others like me out there, rare as a transformation like mine seemed to
be.
Hopefully there were no worse.
For all I knew, that dinosaur was a dog yesterday. Hey wait, that was a good thought! Vigo had two german shepherds yesterday. Where were they now?
"Vigo, where are your dogs?"
"I don't know, they used to be inside with me, but they lit out when the dinosaur hit the house. Didn't even try to protect me, the cowards."
He dunked the well bucket over his face messily while I pondered. I couldn't blame the dogs, I don't think I'd protect him from dinosaurs either. But....
"Did the dogs sense anything?"
"Yeah they were barking and causing a fuss; that's why I looked out the window in the first place."
"Excellent; do me a favor?"
He turned to me, asking the question with his eyes before his mouth cracked open.
"What do you need, my lady?"
"Go find Karl, and tell him the watch needs dogs. At least 2 dogs with good senses per watch position set."
"Oh, good idea lady Muse! I'll go find him right now!"
And since you aren't really hurt, it'll keep you busy and out of the way. Not to mention less depressed because you're actually doing something pro-active. I stole a glance at Sylvia. Too bad I couldn't do that with everyone. suddenly there was too much noise. Just too many people, talking non stop about things they had no way of knowing about. I couldn't take one
more stupid theory about what had happened.
As before, none noticed me leaving; apparently I could be quiet when I wanted to be. Besides, I couldn't quite shake the idea that there were more clues back at my new/old house. The trip back took almost no time at all; even with the dress trying it's best to trip me, I could manage a respectable speed.
The outbuilding I had passed up earlier was the place to be now; it was a stable. No animals of any kind inside, sweet fresh hay on the stall floors and small tools designed to punch leather placed neatly in order on a large counter. Under that a few well made drawers held other tools of unfamiliar purpose, as well as a few items I understood. Like the curry brushes for example, obviously for horses. I didn't own any though, something I found odd.
I'd seen a few horses already here and there, they had seemed to take the place of cars. I had a car last night. but no horse or any other beast of burden today. So obviously this stable was meant for others. no need for fresh hay in a stable where the owner had no animals, unless said owner expected guests. There were no fences, so I did not own a pasture. the water trough was full, the water clear. Old rain water would be brackish, I'd think.
Though then again, the water may have just been poofed there like the rest of bizarro Amish-world. However out back, behind the stable was another well. This one was much smaller than the town well, with only room for one bucket at a time. The stone was white; I did not recognize it. It also didnt appear to be placed by any mason, instead appearing to have somehow raised
itself from the earth organically.
Evidence of magic perhaps? Something other than calling down destructive forces? But whose hand, mine or anothers?
Just beyond the well was an irrigated garden; no pictures or words, and too early in the season for me to find out what if anything was planted there by looking at the plants themselves. Not that I was an expert in plants. Just beyond the rather large garden were trees, apple and cherry. I knew both of those because in my childhood I had loved both fruits, and researched them with the idea of convincing my mother to plant a tree of each for pies and the like. Turned out that I couldn't even get her to give the planting idea a first thought, let alone a second. Trees of our own could not compete with store bought, it seemed.
After dad died, all thoughts of trees withered; I was a bit busy ensuring we had money to eat at all. But here they were, just as I had envisioned them so many years before. An apple to the left, and a good 60-70 feet away a cherry tree on the right. Both offering shade and little else at the moment, but both very welcome and exactly where I would have planted them. Both
about 8 to 10 years old.
The dark musty rabbit hole yawned before me for a moment; only it was a pitch black inky stretch with a sulfurous smell and unspeakable noises.
"N-Muse! You here?"
And just like that I was back. A little disoriented, I stumbled back towards the house. I knew who was calling me the very instant I heard the voice. It had changed slightly, into a deeper tenor than I strictly remembered last night, but I could still recognize it easily somehow. I could only hope the same thing were true for him. It was of course my drinking buddy. Matt Lockland, son of Brian and now default apprentice smith.
"Here Matt!"
I turned the corner of my new stable to find him approaching it. Tall (more tall than I was, but I was growing to expect that from everyone) with hair a sandy sort of brown and somewhat large liquid blue eyes, he was not quite as impressive as his father was muscle wise, but it was obvious he wasn't too far from it. Yesterday he was all of 5 foot 4 and maybe 150 soaking wet.
It looked good on him. Were my eyes as wide as his?
"So I sort of knew when I woke up you'd be different, but wow... actually seeing the difference is something else."
"Wait, you did? You knew I was different?"
I caught his arm and dragged him back towards the house, but not before he caught a glimpse of the trees. His eyes widened again, realizing the significance immediately. I just kept tugging, and soon enough he answered me.
"Well not exactly, but when dad mentioned a 'Lady Muse' I knew he meant you, and it sort of came out of nowhere. What's going on?"
I snorted - delicately. I don't think I was allowed to sound vulgar in any way anymore. And I don't know where that idea came from. Maybe I'd try later.
"Hmm... interesting, I have no such knowledge regarding any of you. And as for what's going on, your guess is as good as mine. Our world went to hell somehow, all I know."
Perhaps the knowledge regarding people being different only occured when the people you knew were, well, very different? I mean everyone else in town was human. The only certain thing was my list of questions today had just gotten beyond any sane mental length... I'd need to write them all down or something.
I had to drag Matt to a seat in the kitchen, and plunk him down in it. I started making tea for us for something to do.
"Wow, I didn't really want to look at much before I got here, but your kitchen kinda brings it all home, no pun intended."
"You didn't even look at your room? Bet that old Megadeath poster is something really funny today."
"Ugh, don't remind me, I saw it! It was a poster of the God of smithing."
Interesting....
"Oh? Do tell."
"Why? You think it might be relevant?"
I gave him his tea before answering.
"I think it all is. You woke up today a smith's apprentice, with a poster of the God of smiths hanging above your head. what did it say?"
"Vulcan bless our works. It mostly had pictures of a huge guy I assumed to be Vulcan doing forge things."
"Vulcan, huh?"
Wasn't that a roman name for the god of the forge?
"So you didn't have anything like that?"
I snapped back from ponderingsville. Only a year ago, I had posters of bands and the like still present throughout my own animal den. However I took them down in favor of some rather bland landscape prints that, I realized oddly enough, had not changed at all. I remembered seeing them where they had hung in my old house, crude nails rather than little hooks holding them up now, no doubt.
"No, my wall coverings are unchanged, at least to a casual eye. I'm willing to bet they are real paintings as opposed to reprints now. I doubt Guttenburg set up shop in this reality, at least not yet."
"Truer words were never spoken. Looked at your books yet?"
Dread found my core, and twisted it.
"No, only the one that replaced my computer. I take it you have?"
"Well I only own a few really, not the reader you are... and they are right next to my bed, so I couldn't help but see them. I had a few fantasy books, they seem to be the same, though I have a feeling we'd better read them to make sure. My non fiction has changed though. History books seem absolutely fine, but everything else non fiction is just weird. My chevy engine manual for example is now a treatise on how hot flames need to be to correct alloy certain metals, and how to stoke them."
"Ack... Now I don't even want to look. All those books I had."
I had almost no fiction in my mini library. Over half my books were books on laws around the world, or history. The other half were trash that I'd been meaning to get rid of for years. Now it might be interesting to see what those had become... or it might not. After all, Matt's fantasy books seemed unchanged. Hmm, a thought....
"What about the sci fi?"
He shook his head ruefully and drained his tea.
"Those, are a total loss. Nothing survived. Anything with guns, planes, space ships, any of it without being pure history is just gone. I don't know, maybe someone else's books survived, but mine didn't. And I loved me some Battlestar Gallactica books too."
I could sympathyze. If whatever happened were (Gods forbid) permanent, entire generations of people wouldn't know the works of Aasimov, or Bradbury for examples. Heck no guns meant even King would be gone!
I do think we could all live without Clancy, or Patterson however.
"Ok, I want to see your computer book."
My what? Why did dread clutch me again?
"My what?"
"The book your computer became. My computer became a sort of steam engine. Yours became a book. Something tells me there is a weird connection there."
"Really? A steam engine? What does it do?"
I led the way down the hall, leaving the kitchen fire low.
"Heats water currently; Not sure it works right. It's supposed to run a water pump. I didn't really look to hard at it, it wasn't important."
The unspoken thought was there here, and by default I, was important enough to drop everything. I couldn't really fault him for that; aside from my own ego, it was pretty obvious that to solve this thing we would all have to look for the out of place elements. I fit that bill.
I led the way into the den with a flourish.
"Here we are, that's it on the desk."
I took a look at some of the other titles I'd neglected this morning. History, history, periodical... oh hello. My trash might have just become something interesting.
"Got the key for this?"
I resolved to look at the new stuff later.
"Your guess is as good as mine."
"Hmm... I'd guess... around your neck."
I arched an eyebrow. He held his arms out as if I'd attack him.
"Hey, just a guess. Looks like a real old book, full of forbidden knowledge; where else would you keep it?"
I shrugged and fished about my neck, finding a very fine chain there. I pulled it up and lo and behold, a small silver or silver plated key. Very suspicious. I should have felt it before, if only by where it was resting.
"wow, you're good. That is, if this isn't a key to the bathroom or something."
"Do you even have a bathroom? We only have an outhouse, and it stinks."
I shook my head.
"Not sure what I've got. Didn't see an outhouse, but the bathroom has no toilet."
It took some time to work the chain around to see the clasp, it kept wanting to get caught in my ridiculous hair. But in no time I was staring at a simple clasp, very easy for my fingers to work. Larger fingers might have an issue with it though. the key fit smartly in the lock and turned easily with a loud click.
And as I opened the cover, sparkly dust took flight from the book, catching the dim light in a blinding rainbow effect. I blinked my eyes clear and met Matt's, doing the same.
"Not. One. Word."
"but, but... it's fairie dust!"
My small hands were around his large collar, pulling me up to his eye level, since I couldn't pull him down.
"One more word and it's a toad's life for you."
I had no idea how to make good my threat, but I'd find a way!
"Alright, alright your highness, don't get upset."
A glimpse of something... then it was gone. I yelled to cover the disquiet of those casual words.
"Don't call me that, jerk! This is serious. I am not some faerie princess, and if you don't drop it, you will be."
At that the book flipped pages violently while our eyes widened, coming to rest on the page: 'The spirit of matter and how it may be properly shaped by the strong mind'. I could feel my predatory grin split my face. Matt on the other hand, looked lost.
"What's it say?"
"You can't read it?"
He shook his head.
"That's some sort of elven, I can't read it. Though it makes sense that you're bilingual."
I frowned momentarily, then grinned again.
"The book decided to leap to the page regarding polymorphs. I don't think it likes your taunts."
Matt took a step back despite himself.
"OK OK I got it, no more teasing. Just don't let it magic me."
Heh.
"I don't think it can on it's own, it's merely telling me how. It's kind of interesting in it's way...."
Matt reached over me and shut the book in a hurry; I looked up at him, a bit confused. He shrugged but I could tell he was uneasy.
"Study time later, we both know you can do magic. What else should we be looking for?"
I sat down in my overstuffed chair, placing my feet on a footrest in conveniant reach with the ease of familiarity.
"Not sure; I think some of the answers are in homes like ours. like the books, and how our personal stuff has transformed, but I think the big answer of why is out there, in the worrld at large."
Matt seemed less than impressed with my sweeping gesture.
"Probably right, but where? How do we narrow down the search?"
"same way your basic scientist does when confronting a problem; trial and error. It's already big enough to warrant attention from the world, even if it's only affected us. And using the books as evidence, I don't think it has, I think it's a much larger phenomenon. The books suggest as much. If it's larger, even world affecting, then the entire world will be trying to
find a solution. From the best minds down to the mayor Conratty's of the world."
He pulled up a chair. I found myself wanting more tea, but I was comfortable. Sigh.
"So what do you think we should do?"
"What we will end up doing; just about anyone will be able to see that we won't get any answers at all if we sit pat here. We will need to mount an expedition past the town. The mayor and sheriff were already discussing one this morning in fact. It'll be filled with people that can be trusted, but who aren't vital to the performance of the town itself. To be honest, you might
be considered yourself. Though I'm not sure who will go or not. If there are more of those dinosaurs, then the list of people I'd trust to be able to survive out there is small."
"Good point. And I doubt I'd be considered for such a thing, my family is not on good terms with the Conrattys."
My mouth and the door opened at the same time. I shot up, disturbing my stool as a floating tea service came into view. Matt was somehow already behind me, a dagger out and pointed at the vague humanoid outline that could barely be made out in the dim light. a sort of phantom butler... ?
It served us tea, righted the stool, and left. I turned to Matt, took in his dagger... and laughed. Perhaps a touch of this morning's hysteria in it, but good cleansing laughter. Matt looked stubbornly angry for a moment, then laughed a bit himself.
"Sorry, and before you ask, no I didn't plan that. I guess I need to watch my stray thoughts around this pile of rocks. I wanted more tea."
"That was an honest to goodness phantom servant wasn't it? Just like in...."
I cut him off, laughter forgotten.
"Yes, just like in the game."
He leaned back in his chair.
"You know, for a tiny hot elf chick, you sure can make with the fear."
"Sorry."
"It's OK, I know where you're coming from. I bet they are loving this bullcrap though. I'd just as soon have a car."
Anger and hatred were buried just as quickly as they had surfaced, hopefully never to return. Though I knew better; we all have darkness and stupidity inside us. The trick is not to let it rule.
"Now see that's what I'm talking about; when you smile you really show a person what the phrase 'light up a room' means."
Was he hitting on me?!?
"And when you blush you look especially cute."
He was, the rat - bastard!
"Out out out! I want some peace now, need to think without your constant teasing!"
He managed to look contrite, but I was pretty sure he was faking. I started shoving him out the den.
"Alright, sorry. I know, I'm going. It's a way to cope, you know? I'm pretty freaked out by all this. And you well, despite how you look, you're you. Normal.
And safe, you know he's thinking I'm safe to mess with. Wow, what could I say to that?
"I get it Matt, and I'd love to have you stay and chat all day, but I need some alone time to think."
"Yeah I get it. You won't stop thinking about it, and won't let the problem or weirdness or whatever rest unresolved. It's your nature, you can't let a mystery stand. Be back later and lock your door. You can never tell what people will do in a crisis."
I nodded as he strode out.
"Sound advice, see you later."
He waited till he heard my bolt slam home, then walked off, whistling. the street was empty except for him, but I didn't see any strange creatures lurking. Either there was nothing else or the watch was working. Then again, I'd heard no alarm, and I was out of shout range of the other parts of town.
Whoops, can't think of everything. It was probably fine. Now for the more important thing. I thought really hard about unexplored areas of my house. I was praying I didn't go low tech enough for a chamberpot, cause that is just gross. I'll reinvent the toilet if I have to! though... how DID a toilet work? something about a gasket flooding water down into a bowl when opened, and releasing a valve at the same time. I think.
Judging from Matt's own knowledge loss, I doubt even a plumber knows how a toilet works today. Depressing thought.
My thoughts of toiletry did have an effect. They summoned the phantom butler, who gestured me to follow him/her/it. that's it, I'm naming the thing. I mean it's a construct, not even a ghost. I don't remember casting the spell for it. I also don't remember seeing it this morning, which is a mild issue. Perhaps my disorganized thoughts and anything but calm mind had affected
it? It did seem summoned by my thoughts.
At any rate, it led me to what I had taken to be a hall closet my first time through. Perhaps because originally it had been a hall closet, next to the bathroom (which of course it still was). Opening it I recieved a mild shock. A small room with a porcelain bench and opposite, a porcelain sink. the bench of course, had a hole cut or shaped out of it in the center, and the sink was filled with water. There were no taps or pipe work anywhere I could see.
So an indoor outhouse? That sounds even worse than a chamber pot. Why didn't it stink? Oh well; I shut the door on the servant who thankfully hadn't followed me inside, and settled in. I had to go of course, and that was one of the reasons I wanted Matt out of the house. Knowing he was lurking with me trying to find a bathroom would have been... weird.
And of course porcelain is cold. Very cold, even on warm days it seems. But finally I got done and started to stand up, when the first of two rather immediate oddities struck me... quite literally. The first being water all over my new parts, as if just that region was inundated in sweetly scented (rose hips?) water. As I goggled and stood up to see where it was coming from, just like that I was dried. As if those same areas and only those, had been subjected to a blow dryer.
But there had been no heat, it was more as if the water was just encouraged to go elsewhere, with no clingy moisture left behind. Looking down I had caught a glimpse of a faint blue glow and a sighing gurgle acosted my ears at the same time. Of the urine or of any water, there was no sign; I couldn't see all the way down into the bench, but somehow I knew nothing was there
save maybe a bit of dust.
Hmm, magic toilet. Beats an outhouse any day of the week. Feeling fresh and clean I turned to the sink. There was lye soap next to the sink bowl and I grabbed it, dipped my hands into the water and lathered up. Technically I hadn't touched any - sensitive areas, but it never hurt to be clean, right? Besides, the sink is magical too, I just know it. They are companion
pieces after all.
I was right, after washing my hands I removed them from the water, and as soon as they were past six inches they were dry. Just like that, and even looking I hadn't seen how it was done. Just one moment wet, and the next dry. The soapy water was also just as suddenly markedly less soapy. As clean as if it had just been placed in the basin, in fact.
Downright handy. Now if I just knew how it was done. Or maybe I did, and needed to remember? Ugh, my head hurts just thinking of it all, and of course aspirin is a distant memory. Silly body needs satisfied for the moment, I went back to the den, grabbed my magic book and dragged it into the kitchen. Stupid thing was large and heavy. I brewed tea and opened it to the
first page:
"To my darling Muse on her naming day; may this enchanted book of profundities serve you well wherever you may roam. Love, father."
Well that was odd, my dad was the religious type. He'd have burned the new me at the stake. Second page:
'on the nature and spirit of fire.'
That's better.
(tbc)
There was a good chance someone wanted to speak to me. The massive incessent pounding on my door was a decent hint. That was a real shame, cause I'd been reading the most interesting things.
"Muse! Come on out! Sheesh, I know you're in there!"
Like, apparently fire's nature is to burn and purify, and the only reason it is seen as a destructive force is it's misuse or imbalance. That's science now, it seems. I shook my head in misery; this did no wonders for my rising headache. Letting Matt back in was a great distraction, so I did. Of course as I turned from the door, he dragged me out of it.
"Come on, barbeque time!"
Huh? taking another look as I was dragged, I realized it was sunset. The sun seemed to be swimming in an ocean of flames. I'd been in that damnable book for some time. Aside from the sun setting, there was another glow in the center of town. This one seemed to be surrounded by rather brazen noise. Right, roast dinosaur.
"So, you were reading your magic book, weren't you?"
I looked up at Matt; much to my annoyance he hadn't let go of my captured arm yet.
"You know me too well. Of course I was. Specifically, the chapter on fire as an elemental force."
"Good; you need a break before you tac-nuke us by accident. Here, take this, you'll need it."
He handed me a small pouch of tooled leather I recognized as hanging on a peg inside my kitchen; when had he grabbed that? I snuck a peek inside to find a delicate polished wooden fork and a small but sharp looking knife. Ahh, personal cutlery.
"Oh, if I tac-nuke you, it won't be an accident, I assure you. I'm coming, mind letting go of my arm?"
I could just barely make out his blush as he let go; you'd think I just told him I had leprosy, it happened so fast. Luckily, I had the perfect awkward moment smoothing comment. I picked up the pace to use it.
"Come on, if we don't hurry, the drum sticks will be gone!"
He stared at me like I had grown a second head for a moment. Well I thought it was funny anyway. Of course they were nowhere near out, the legs were huge. There were large tables showing the nicks and scars of heavy use set at the edge of the bonfire, filled with crude grey clay plates, pots, and bowls of herbs and condiments... well such condiments as we had. Of course we had no ketchup.
"You sure you wouldn't rather have the stuff over there?"
I looked to where Matt was pointing. It was a table filled with vegetables, with a few tubers and fruits. Potatoes, apples, some kind of berry I didn't recognize offhand (but looked vaguely like a blackberry) wild onions... someone had been busy. I got the inference though, Matt was either making a joke or insulting me outright. After all wussy elves are vegetarians, aren't they? They couldn't possibly eat meat. Pointedly I grabbed one of the proferred plates and tore into the well roasted hunk of leg placed on it. (Ok, so I actually used the knife and fork I had in my small pouch; I'm not a barbarian!)
Matt pulled out his own pouch; maybe all the good citizens had them. Then again Phil was eating with his hands... messily, so maybe not. The meat itself was delicious; though oddly enough it did not taste like chicken. After all, weren't birds descended from dinosaurs? Instead it was a richer, heavier flavor of deer... sort of. The vegetables looked lonely, so I snuck a few when Matt turned his back.
The scene reminded me of a sort of outdoor viking feast, with lots of wine (the contents of those malformed clay jugs) and loud merriment; I began to wonder if the noise would draw predators. Then again, wouldn't too much noise and fire drive them away? I needed to bone up on my hunting skills. Of course many of the predators I was worried about didn't exist yesterday.
"So, lady Muse."
I refocused.
"Mayor Conratty."
He had grease smeared all over his face. How did he manage that with utensils?
"We have decided on the party to send to Toledo."
A hint of unease, a flare of danger.
"The village council decided on Karl to lead the expedition, and Phil Keene, Thomas Caine, Randolf Wills, Matt Lockland, Pastor Collins... and you."
No. No no no no no no no!
"Wait, what?"
"We need you to go. You handled that dragon thing with ease... "
"Dinosaur."
" ...Whatever. You handled it. If our expedition gets attacked by something like that, they need you there to help them."
"but you guys will need me here!"
I'm not doing the whole party sent into the woods thing! They can just sue me!
He started using his greasy hands to tick of points; seriously, did he bathe in the stuff before breaking out the silverware?
"There are more of us here than are going; and so far your insights have been useful. The council and I believe you will be most useful in uncovering what is going on. Plus we have Frank."
"Frank?"
"Frank Cipro, know him?"
I knew him, a smarmy forty plus guy. Five foot six inches, weighing about 200 pounds. A soft pockmarked face over a flabby body. Always working on his next scam. Last week if I remember right, it was penis enlargement devices sold over the internet.
"Yeah I know him."
"Well he can do magic too! So we won't be defenseless with you gone."
I begged to differ.
"I must confess I am a bit curious. Excuse me a moment."
I went to go find Frank; I didn't have to go far. He was right at the edge of the firelight, staring at me with an intensity and expression I felt was normally reserved for the victims of pedophiles and serial killers.
"Frank."
"Yes lady Muse? Enjoying the party?"
Well, I was.
"The mayor tells me you can use magic too?"
"Yes lady Muse, I displayed a few tricks for the council. I wanted them to know that there was more than one wizard in town."
Hmmph, shows what he knows. I'm a sorceress. Wait, did I just think that? No, no I most certainly did not.
"I see, that's great news, and puts my mind at ease. Tell me please, how would you have handled this beast?"
I speared a bite of leg from my plate to remove all doubt about what I could mean. His rather soft goatish face morphed into an expression I'd seen on a few people before, he was going to be evasive. The eyes loking up and left for brief stints, the pulling away, further from the fire and me... he was going to lie or tell a half truth.
"I'd have used 'Arrow of Acid'; it's a spell that melts a target."
So a half truth then. I've no doubt he'd have used it, it was likely his strongest spell. For him to even mention using it, it would have to be the only thing he'd have a chance of taking down a T-rex with. The spell though had several problems. It was
thrown, for one. While my lightning was cast without fail on any target I could see, the Arrow of Acid was thrown like a rock, which meant you could miss. You could even hit someone else in the middle of a crowded melee. The second problem is, even if it could kill a dinosaur (which is doubtful; perhaps a 50/50 chance) the acid takes time to work. Which meant that you'd have a burning, sizzling, pissed off dinosaur attacking people in the meantime. Possibly for minutes before dying.
It was absolutely the wrong spell to use, and he knew it. The only reason anyone would use it is if they had no other spell capable of doing anything of consequence. One look at my face and he knew that I knew it too.
"I am aware of that spell. Thank you for answering me."
I turned to go back, but his next question stopped me.
"Lady Muse, what is your strongest spell?"
Hah. I should have known it'd come to this. The usual way... well the usual polite way for one caster to gauge the strength of another. Most spellcasters answered such questions, with a lie if nothing else. How very silly, to compare spells known and assume that it was strength. Of course the real question that most meant to ask was: 'What is your strongest destructive spell?' How very human.
"Well, I know the elements of fire and lightning, I know water and earth. But in all probability... "
I turned to him, focused for a eternal moment, and conjured a rose from nothing.
" ...pure creation is my strongest spell."
I knew one thing, it sure took alot out of me. I could barely make it back to my seat and drink before slumping. I would be darned if I let that hack see me sweat though. I handed the rose to mayor Conratty.
"Alright, he's not as good as me, but he'll do."
For you guys at any rate; I don't stay where I'm not wanted, and this is the mayor and council working together to rid the village of undesirables. Maybe it's that I'm too powerful and he's scared I'll take over? Nah that's the council as a whole, I'm no longer human and I command weird powers. No secret why they want me gone; they can control Frank, or think they can.
"Then you'll go? splendid! The expedition is set to leave in the morning, at first light."
"One other thing, I can understand everyone else, but why is the pastor going?"
"Well not only is he a priest now, he was a medic in desert storm. We do want you all to come back, after all."
He delivered that with a grin and a chuckle that did little to reassure.
"I see. Makes sense. Alright, it seems I have to pack, so excuse me."
He gave a jaunty wave with his face buried in his plate. I could just make out his muffled "Good night."
Disgusting.
Since I knew all the other players, a visit to pastor Collins before I turned in seemed a great idea. That isn't to say I didn't know pastor Collins, but I most certainly didn't know the new pastor Collins. What god did he serve now? Vulcan, like my friend? I considered that doubtful, he'd always seemed so nice and passive when I avoided him like the plague before. We got along mainly because he wasn't one of those in your face types, and didn't care that I was an athiest. He'd talk to me anyway, and religion wouldn't even come up.
Oddly enough for a village this small, pastor Collins' church wasn't the only one in town. It was one of two. Before it was simply a single story rambling brick structure erected in the late 60's. I wasn't sure about the denomination, but it was erected completely by donations and seemed pricey. Now it was quite different.
Honest to the Gods greek style marble columns of the purest white held the oversized polished and stained timber framework and shingled roof, and the walls were made of finely quarried and cut sandstone. where the stone had come from was anyones' guess. The building itself was much smaller than it used to be, covering a bare fraction of the land; but the property was surrounded by trilothons of sandstone and wood, giving the impression of both open space and enclosed, sacred area. It was beautiful.
It was also empty. At least, the outer area was. The boundary was easy to discern... I felt something as soon as I crossed it. A sort of full body tingle, kind of like getting a mild static shock over your entire body. Hmm. Step back, and again; same result. Reaching the inner sanctum, I did what any polite person should do... snuck a peak to see who was there. The place was empty save for the man himself.
Pastor Collins was always a man I had deep respect for. A veteran of desert storm now in his 40's (though I hadn't known he was a medic) he had actually seen combat there. Not everyone had. When he left he was cocky and strong. When he came back he was slightly broken and deeply religious. He was always a big man, but hadn't changed as much as the others around here; still solid but graying prematurely, which contrasted with his unlined still almost boyish face in a unique way. The loose white cotton pants and tunic he wore were different than anything else I'd seen so far. He still had his army ink though, all down both arms. He went to some seminary a year after his enlistment ended, and came back again to preach the gospel. something he'd been doing for decades now.
Now he looked forlorn... lost. Deeply troubled. I probably shouldn't, but I felt I had to intervene. After all, our lives may soon depend on him.
"Copper for you thoughts?"
He started violently and looked back.
"Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."
"No, it's fine. Come in lady Muse. What can I do for you?"
A bad idea to answer that directly. Instead I pointed past the alter, where a statue of a woman who had to be idealized in just about every way stood looking down upon the delicate oaken pews, a soft loving look upon her perfect face.
"So who is it now?"
"Minerva, Goddess of healing."
If anything he looked even more miserable. Ahh crap I hate being right. A crisis of faith of epic proportions. I sat next to him and he took that as his cue to start.
"I knew Him yesterday, loved Him yesterday, walked with him and spread His message yesterday... and now he's dead. She's here, as if She were always here, and He is dead. My mind is filled with her message, her ways. I can barely remember his name at all."
Not knowing what else to do I gave him a hug.
"It'll be Ok. We will figure out what happened. Besides, not to belittle what you're going through or anything... but His message is a healing one, right? Healing the sick, helping those less fortunate?"
I pointed to the statue to help my point.
"Well so is hers."
He looked lost in thought. Was that all it took? Crap that was easy.
"Look, got to go pack. See you in the morning, OK?"
"Sure. See you then."
I left him with his eyes boring holes into the placid statue, as if the answers he sought would be found there. Who knows, maybe they will. The visit certainly answered a few of my questions. With only one example in front of me, I was fairly certain all new priests would have powers. I felt his Goddess here, and somehow that feeling was familiar, even though I'd never felt it before in my life. Which meant that if his new faith held, he could be very useful. Perhaps more so than I.
Sure I felt like a jerk for thinking it, but we needed every advantage.
I stepped back into my place and the smell of fresh brewed tea drew me to the kitchen. There it was, brewed by the spectral presence floating just behind my counter. At least, I hoped it was. I hadn't even realized I wanted any, but the specter had. I still had to come up with a name for that thing. Ahh, I got it! Boris! Perfect name for it, it looked like a Boris.
I couldn't be sure, but I think it shuddered a bit. I sure hope so anyway. Well on to packing anyway, Boris could handle the dishes. Sheesh one day, and already I'm getting lazy and indolent due to newly granted magic. There had to be a moral in there somewhere. Not like I could trust Boris to pack for me. I instinctively knew that'd be beyond his pay grade. Time to see what traveling clothes I had... this silly dress wouldn't cut it.
My closet was full of dresses, ornate ones, frilly ones, plain ones, all on hand carved hangars that looked as if they were grown for the purpose. In an... armoire? (I think that's what it's called.) There was a selection of corsets and panties of various types and colors; some looked like they hooked into each other somehow, others were far less elaborate. Nothing. I turned back to the closet, refusing to believe any elf would only own frivolous clothes, and that's when I noticed the cloth wrapped bundle stuffed way in the back of the closet, behind the winter boots and snow shoes.
I could barely move what turned out to be a huge chest the size of a steamer trunk. Made of heavy oak and banded with steel, it sported a viney thorn filled rose plant scrawling it's way across both the wood and metal parts. There was no lock, just a hasp, and it opened wide without a sound at my merest touch. I could tell immediately I hit paydirt.
dark grey leather pants, still supple and somehow soft. Lined with something on the inside that felt like, well felt, but wasn't. At least I don't think it was. A second pair in black, treated the same way. A tan leather tunic with short white cotton sleeves seamlessly sewn onto it, lined like the pants and with what appeared to be lily designs worked into it. Anther tunic much the same but all maroon and sporting roses. A rather elegant light grey cloak that had no special stitchwork, but I could tell was special somehow. I could also tell it matched the boots under it, which were delicate, very well made, and carried on the same rose motif I'd seen off and on in my house. They looked so small... I wasn't sure I'd get used to seeing my feet fit boots like this.
In a corner was a dark tan bag, a finely woven burlap satchel about the size of one of those cavernous purses some women liked to wear that you could fit a compact car in. There were Runes stitched into it with a fine black thread, running up and down it's surface. I knew immediately what it was of course, so I set it aside. A wooden canteen was next, looking like one of those old circular canteens except it had no seam. Grown into that shape, of course, makes sense for an elf. I swear if I started munching granola and singing odes to trees....
After that was the sword. Even sheathed in it's leather scabbard (with, of course, silver roses worked into it) I could tell it was odd. The metal was an odd reddish gold that caught and drew the eye. The hilt was wrapped in two pieces of rowan with an odd bumpy leather stitched into place around them. It made a pretty good grip. The width and size was of a rapier; again delicate was the first word that came to mind. However the hilt was obviously made for two hands (especially hands as small as mine) and the length was almost that of a full broadsword. Light enough for one hand but a little unweildy, obviously designed for two.
I pulled it; runes etched and chased with some dark substance, possibly metallic in origin, chased themselves across it's length. The script was elegant, beautiful, and almost readable; something about it tickled the back of my memory. One word I could make out clearly and most powerfully as the blade whispered it's soothing greetings into my mind: 'wasp'.
Thankfully the blade was quiesent. I had no true idea, but according to the best lore I could go on, magical blades often fought their owners for dominance or took control of them. There was nothing of that here however, just a soothing caress of my mind and a mental farewell before I sheathed it. Questions, questions.
Head the battle for dominance already been fought by the other me? Or had this blade been made for me in such a way that I was already it's master? Did it matter, in the long run? I took the bag and packed it with one of the sets of traveling clothes, some underwear (including a few of those stupid corsets) a dress for special occasions (hey I was taught to carry one set of good clothes when traveling by my mother, sue me). That disappeared into the bag without a hitch, so I added rope, a small knife, the canteen, some small pots and pans, and most importantly... my magic book, along with a few books from my library. I was pretty glad when my magic book didn't cause the 'bag of plenty' to burp up all it's contents or open a hole to another dimension. I've heard some magic items could cause the bag to be finnicky like that.
Last thing I needed was another dimensional headache; I already felt like how I imagined Ash from the Evil Dead series must feel. Oddly enough I had the feeling that the most important book I had wasn't the magic book, but the now aptly named 'forbidden beastiary' that my old game monster manuals became. It was a large set of small books, bound in leather and each about the size of a small paperback. In each were the alphabetical listings of each known monster or race supposedly inhabiting the planet, along with common trends in culture, strengths, and most importantly, weaknesses. There were thousands of entries.
Knowledge was power after all, and knowing what spells or tactics worked best against monsters like say, trolls for example could mean the difference between life and death. I just hope the books are accurate. The flyleaf said they were penned by 'Owam the all knowing', whoever that was. Last I knew those same books were penned by a bunch of sweaty nerds with nasally laughs.
Packing complete, I disrobed (getting the dress off was a pain, the buttons were in back - Boris to the rescue.) and chucked the stupid clothes down a small chute near the door before I realized I now knew what that small well concealed chute was for. I decided not to think about that, but slipped under the cool sheets. It was moderately warm, and during the hot days and nights I did not like to sleep in clothes. The bed seemed warm and comfy enough, the night calls of the owls and animals sootrhing, so I stayed there.
*****
I woke all at once, much as I had before. It was not yet sunrise; the night was still dark. Oddly enough that hampered me not at all. I could see everything by the brilliant pale light of the half moon. I walked into the kitchen to make breakfast and go over my mental checklist. Some mildly hard bread (baked into a sort of french loaf, which I just gnawed on - no need to have manners at home) and some eggs from my icebox prepared in my iron skillet was plenty. I just did not have the apetite of the old, bigger me.
Of course the eggs reminded me, that I had an icebox full of stuff I wouldn't be here to eat. and that somehow reminded me of my cellar. My fruit cellar, reached from inside the house by a trapdoor under the rug in the living room, had all sorts of preserved foods for winter... or trips. Some preserved with standard techniques... and some with spells. All I really needed to do was cast the spell on my icebox, and it would keep, at least for a few months. 5 to 6 if my screwy memory serves.
It was kind of odd how I had magic for every little conveniant thing. Of course the spell itself was one of my more powerful ones; it'd fairly wipe me out, at least for awhile. but something told me food would be very important down the road. No corner
Mcdonalds or hostess twinkies in well titled convenience stores. First thing was first however.
The cellar was even more cool than the rest of the house, stone just like the rest of it, and even darker than up above. I actually had to retrieve and light a candle! Let's see... beef jerky, deer jerky, rabbit jerky... good grief, how many animals can you jerk anyway? stacks and stacks of it, rolled into stacks of wax paper. Various herbs of esoteric minced or dropped whole into blown glass jars and capped with cork or metal, sealed with wax. Hams pickled in small airtight barrels of brine.
Along the far wall opposite the shelves holding the herbs and jerky was a series of bins. Each one had the preservation spell cast upon them, and dates carefully written in charcoal on their sides. The dates were in a series of days, one after the other, and just under 3 months ago. Which was a relief, I had plenty of time. I knew that a properly ensorceled bin or chest could keep food like this indefinately (at least until the food was removed, of course) but I also knew with the same surety as the other knowledge that kept popping into my head, that I did not have the power or knowledge for that... yet.
So instead I grabbed a few stacks of the beef jerky and a few jars of dried apple and orange slices. Some of the preserved bread from the bin (travel bread, unleavened stuff that was called 'hardtack' in the days of yore) blew out my candle since I had my hands full and walked back up very carefully. Enough food for the winter indeed. To me, it looked like I had enough food down there alone to feed a family of four for the winter - I couldn't imagine the new me eating all that in less than a year.
Well I had to stop procrastinating, but my trick memory just told me of another thing I couldn't do without. so back into my den I went, this time to the small lab opposite the bookshelf. Under that large and heavy scarred table was a small box. I now knew that it was a field alchemy kit, filled with things like sulfur, rocks exuding iron oxide, glasswork such as the table above it sported, and other essentials of portable chemistry. I fit it into the bag too - the opening stretched and the box seemed to shrink at the same time.
The bag had a pretty large interior space. I almost wanted to try and fit my house in, now. After all, it had a kicking bathroom. Ugh, no more time to waste.
I entered the kitchen, sighted up, and cast the spell. It was like my lightning bolt, all visualization and intent. However unlike my lightning bolt this one knocked my butt to the floor. This served to remind me that I was still roaming naked through my house like a loon. So immediately after the fog left my vision and the walls stopped rotating around me I got up and rectified that situation.
Plain black silk panties, a matching corset that felt as if it would breathe (and let me breathe) the tan tunic and grey pants? leggings? I'll go with pants. Of course the entire outfit was as form fitting as it could get without being formed around me, but I was hoping the cloak would hide that. I even had a good long pair of socks so the boots wouldn't chafe. The boots felt as if they were hugging my feet now, but that was immaterial; after hours of walking they might feel very different.
And of course now that I had my clothes on I had to go to the bathroom. Sigh.
so after THAT was done, I belted on my sword and knife, grabbed my bag and was ready to go just as the sun started over the horizon. Still a little wiped, I dreaded the next step. Stepping outside with a travel mug of tea, I closed the door, locked it with the key, and then started the spell known as 'Magic lock'. (Fitting name, really, so plebian.) like before it too was all visualization and intent. thankfully it was a minor spell that simply kept people without the power to cast spells out of the place you warded. It also required some effort to break, even for a spellcaster. So while you could simply go back in anytime,
any caster trying to break in needed the 'Magic knock' spell (Yes pretty plebian again.) and to test their latent power against yours.
I was pretty confident that even if Frank knew the 'Magic knock', he'd never get inside. and anyone from here without magic could try till doomsday. I was just hoping they wouldnt get pissed at failure and demolish my entire house somehow. Or that something stronger than me would coem along and demolish them all, my house included. Oh well, at least the 'Magic lock' didn't knock me on my butt again. for the next hour or so even conjuring a feather might, but that spell is weak in cost for how handy it is.
And of course I'm the first one here. At least the sunrise is amazing. All yellows and reds around an absolutely huge red hued sun - as if the sky was stabbed and is now bleeding out.
Wow, nice morbid streak... I'll have to watch that.
(tbc)
I did not have to wait at the edge of town long; I was grilling our night watchman Dave Sims on if he'd seen or heard anything. He hadn't, but his dog Jonesy had barked twice last night, once a sort of desultery warning. Once fast and furiously, standing stiffly in front of his master and facing the woods in loud slobbering madness. Neither time did Dave see what set Jonesy off so.
I listened, petting jonesy, who was half asleep and leaning into my touch. Soon he was set to be relieved by Phil, of all people. I remembered the cowardly shepards well; hopefully they would do better this time.
"Yo! Mornin."
"Good morning Matt. Seems all was mostly quiet last night."
He shook his head and yawned.
"Mostly isnt even close, Hal's dogs kept barking last night, really loudly. Kept me awake most of the night, and likely a few other people too."
Hal Smith had a bloodhound. Didn't bloodhounds have a vastly superior sense of smell, or am I remembering wrong? Either way the village wasn't attacked last night, so maybe I was just overthinking it. The watch had done it's job, the dogs had done theirs.
Time for us to do ours.
I took a closer look at Matt; he had a large hammer strapped to his back (the thing had to weigh 20 pounds, at least to less than expert eye), a gladius strapped to his side and a small shield strapped to his arm. He also had a backpack that was about my size strapped to his back, under the hammer. He was wearing a chainmail shirt that stopped just shy of his knees. He didn't seem too burdened by it all, the jerk.
"Did you bring everything?"
He shot me a dazzling smile, not understanding the true thrust of my question and therefore taking it seriously.
"I think so, I've got food, water, weapons, flint and steel, a good whetstone, rope...."
"And a partridge in a pear tree?"
"Heh, well what about you? You look to be traveling light. Though I must admit the leather is a great look for you."
I held up my magic bag.
"This holds a bit more than it looks to."
He caught sight of the runes and started; I caught sight of our other party members walking up together behind him but still some distance away.
"Is that a 'bag of plenty'?"
"Sure is, seems to be the biggest size too. Found it in a trunk with the clothes and sword. I assume the mail shirt and sword were in a similar place?"
I inspected my other party members just entering hearing range and caught his nod out of the corner of my eye.
"In a trunk in my closet. The hammer though, that was hung up on hooks above the mantle."
Pastor Collins was in a grey robe and cassock like a monk, no doubt with his comfy looking spun cotton underneath. He had a rather large silver necklace on a crude silver chain. both looked to be pure; the necklace was of two small hands clasped together in prayer. thankfully for my mental health his backpack was less massive and rather jauntily hanging from one shoulder. I could see a small bedroll and some pots tied to strategic places on it. He wore only one thing that could be considered a weapon; a small bat or cudgel, made from a large oak stick capped on both ends with iron. He seemed to be in good
spirits this morning, a smile breaking easily over his features as if to mimic the dawn itself.
Karl was right beside him, dressed in clanky scale mail and sporting a long sword that I could tell at a glance was not quite as... elegant as mine. He also had large metal shod boots, iron greaves and bracers. His backpack was the smallest yet, but had all sorts of seemingly random items hanging from it by crude twine (like a waxed blanket, a jar of something I couldn't make out, and a hooded lantern, to name a few). He was also carrying one of those steel viking style helmets, with the nose and cheek pieces, and a spike set on top of it.
Randolf Wills was dressed as a hunter. His thick cloak was brown with grey and green patches sewn into it, his clothes were the same. He had a bow as tall as I was and a quiver that I'd be willing to guess carried some long broadhead arrows. He also wore a knife and shortsword at his belt, and he had no pack. Judging by the way his cloak moved, I'd be willing to bet it was all pockets, and filled to the brim. His long brown hair was tied back in a ponytail and his green eyes flicked from point of interest to point of interest, never staying in one place long. A slightly too pretty playboy the day before, he was obviously all business now.
Thomas Caine was almost his polar opposite in looks. He looked like someone had taken a hammer to his face multiple times, then used a meat grinder on what was left. He had no hair, only one eye, the planes of his face were out of alignment... and he had some of the nastiest scars I'd ever seen on anyone or anything. Yesterday he'd looked like a normal human being; a bit on the ugly side, a barroom brawler tough with a bit too much testosterone for his own good. But normal. Now he looked like something had to tried to hammer then chew his face off. He was built much like everyone else I'd seen so far; slabs of muscle packed on a large frame.
Even worse, he was dressed head to foot in shining, clanking steel plate, complete with a helmet (I wished idly that he would close his visor - soon). His sword was massive, easily the same weight class as Matt's hammer, and he also carried two small handaxes which also looked to be tools of murder more than simply tools, if their curved blades and swept back handles were any indication. His backpack was about the size of a school bookbag, and was jam packed so that the contents threatened to spill into the dirt. Cloth of some sort was what was on top of that hastily packed mess.
I controlled my reaction well enough to answer Matt. I don't think Tom was fooled though, his face tightened in the most hideous smile I could imagine.
"Must have been some massive hooks, that thing is huge."
Matt turned around, he must have finally heard them. How he missed all that sound I don't know. I felt like a brass band was approaching... or an ironworks. As they got close the smells hit... mold, rancid oil, rust and salt. Definitely an ironworks. I decided to be polite.
"Good morning everyone."
A chorus of "good morning lady Muse." greeted me, and I had a flash of me teaching high school with a set of particularly delinquent students greeting me. I really hoped discipline wouldn't be a problem. Then I realized we were short one. I needed more caffienne in the mornings, where was the other Phil? Phil Keene was our resident small time hood yesterday. Every town has one, no matter how small. He was ours.
A resident since birth, he was into drugs and petty vandalism at first, and the drugs led to his speciality... breaking and entering, sometimes with the residents at home. He never turned violent however, preferring to run if seen and give up if caught. For that reason the book had yet to be thrown his way; the extent of his hard time was a year in juvi. I half knew what he'd be this morning however. I could see the party mechanics as clearly as the bright blue sky above me.
Then I spotted him. Up in a tree, 5 trees down and to my right, leaning against the trunk with large toothpick in his mouth. He was dressed all in greys and greens, like Randolf, and sported four very large daggers strapped to his belt. I could see no armor of any kind, just a burlap tunic (which souded terribly uncomfortable as an idea alone) and loose cotton pants. It took me a bit more to see the two satchels and small bag he had in the tree with him. He was our thief, of course. Every party had to have one, as a secondary scout and trap expert.
The feeling that had dogged me for a day, that I was living in one of my old gamer worlds, came back stronger than ever. I really hoped that this wasn't the case; many many people tended to die in such worlds, a fact rapidly glossed over by the inane ravings of small men wearing thick glasses and hiding their faces behind paper screens.
I shook the feeling off when Phil waved and jumped down, soundlessly while the others were still greeting each other. He would be great at his role, I could already tell that if I tried to pick him out of a crowded street, I'd be unable to. Whether I knew him or not.
"Morning Phil."
He grinned when the others jumped; he'd always liked being stealthy, and he was better than ever.
"Shit man, Phil, where did you come from! We were just discussing who was going to get to wake you up!"
"I've been around. So what's the plan? I kind of expected the mayor to see us off and give us orders, but I think he's still asleep."
Karl answered.
"Well partying till around 3am will likely do that to you. The basic plan was to find where the border for all this is, or failing that, to find out just what is going on. I say we take this very road here to the east, and see what Grummige has to say."
Grummige was the next town over, some 12 miles away. Another hamlet much like ours. Fifteen minutes by car, a good three hours or so away on foot.
"Then let's get started; we're all here, and daylight just started burning."
We stepped on past the town limits and the budding sunlight was immediately cut off by the tangle of old trees. The farm country of my boyhood was completely gone, replaced by a confusing tangle of old growth forest that I could tell at a glance had been here for centuries. It blocked out the sun's heat and light, even on the road, cooling us all off instantly and shrouding us in gloom. It was without a doubt a boundary of sorts to the different world we found ourselves in, and we were trespassers.
Hands went to swords, all jokes and laughter ceased, and we all strived to make as little noise as possible. Randolf, Phil, and I succeeded. The others sounded like a herd of wildebeast stomping through a china shop. They couldn't even breathe quietly. The only good news is that I was upwind of them. Then of course, even that good thing had to end.
"Lady Muse."
I turned to see Karl almost running down the deer trail we had found, clattering like a train with engine trouble.
"Yes?"
"You really should stop taking the lead; let Randy walk it alone, and come back to the main group please."
Ugh. Double ugh. If I insisted, he would no doubt say something to the effect that I wasn't armored, and not as strong as the rest of the group, and should therefore be protected while I focused on causing damage if we were attacked. But I really didn't
feel like dealing with those arguments, as sound as they might be.
I really hoped that was it, and not the whole 'you're a woman now' thing. Cause if he said that, I'd likely kill him... with fire. Lots of fire. Really hot fire.
"Fine, just try to keep it down. You guys make enough noise to wake the dead."
Oh. Oh, crap... I shouldn't have said that. I'm completely in the wrong trope to say that.
"Something wrong? You're looking a little...."
"No no, everything is fine, nothing wrong at all."
He didn't look convinced. Matt looked amused, the smug jerk. He knew what I was talking about! Knew all about tempting fate. Several moments passed however, and no zombies jumped out at us... so I guess we're safe? We were sort of taking route of the old road (old as in, was there a day ago) as best we could. It was rough considering nothing but game trails existed now.
I was just starting to relax when a low trilling whistle that sounded birdlike but wasn't echoed through the trees. Instantly all stopped, Matt with one foot still in the air. I couldn't resist a slight smirk, even seeing how serious he was... that had to
be uncomfortable. Randy strode out from behind a bush in front of Karl, and almost got skewered.
"Sorry, just me. That signal is mine."
I nodded; I knew that. They should have too - shouldn't they? Karl interrupted my thoughts.
"What's wrong?"
"Just some sort of weird ruin ahead. No signs of life, but it was... well you'll have to see, provided you don't want to just say screw it and go around."
Randy kept his voice low, following Karl's lead. I looked around. We were in the middle of the forest, without so much as a small rise for cover. We did however have plenty of trees for that, and more than a hint of bramble. Most of the forest was gloom ridden
old growth, but without landmarks or any reason to have a ruin placed here to be seen. However, if I was right, the road had once cut through here, right past that fallen log.
Which meant that the old abandoned gas station should be around here.
Half of us were on the same page, creeping up slowly and as quietly as possible. The other half made the rest of us look bad, tromping through the brush like wildebeast in heat. I resolved to speak to them later, and at the same time I could make out Randy
resolving the same - if the muttered curses meant what I think they did.
After all, mine did.
The ruin itself was in a small clearing; more than a few stumps rotting in mute testament to how the clearing was made. It was a crumbling tower made of stone, surrounded by a rotting gated bug ridden palisade. It was not any sort of ruin that belonged in our world, and appeared older than any old building should be around here. Yet here it was.
The top had fallen, so that it was impossible to tell just how tall it had been when erected. Only the first six floors were still winning the battle against nature, The large blocks of what appeared to be sandstone still mortared together. Walking carefully around it, I could see places where the fallen stone had crushed the palisade; even if the log drop gate had been closed and locked, entry would have been simple. The gloomy pall of the forest seemed almost to concentrate past that yawning entrance, hinting at dark mysteries.
It also rather nicely answered the first question this expedition was meant to answer. Phil voiced it for all of us.
"Well guess that answers the question of whether it was just us."
The next question of course, was how far this all extended. The more immediate question and one the expedition wasn't sent to answer was what was on other minds, however.
"Should we check the place out? Could be answers of a sort here."
I couldn't stop the shiver of dread as I replied.
"That's a bad idea. It's not part of what we need to do, and it's obviously unsafe."
"Oh come on lady Muse, where is your sense of adventure?"
"Killed and stuffed into a box, next to the dead hooker."
Laughter did not distract them.
"I still say we check it out; it won't take long, the place isn't that big, and we can be on our way."
They outvoted me quite handily; only Matt voted with me. It was OK, they would learn. Hopefully not until after I was out of the line of fire, but they would learn. We all trooped up in a loud disorganized gaggle, my eyes alert even as I dragged my feet hoping to talk them out of this.
"Come on guys, let's not do this. It could be a dangerous haven for things like that dinosaur or worse. At least let Phil go first to scout it out before we all go in... "
I really wanted to say 'before we all go in like tards, but that would be an insult to retarded people everywhere. They at least had more sense than to go into a place like this.
"Well that's reasonable."
Except Phil objected.
"Why do I have to go first?"
"Because you're the one most likely to detect nasty surprises meant for trespassers before you die to them. We are far less likely. Maybe Randy could, but I'm not all that great with that sort of thing, and I know the foundries aren't."
"Ugh, fine, use reason on me. Alright, all of you stay here, I'll be right back. If I'm going in, I don't want all you tripping something on my head that I could have avoided."
He walked off, only his muttered curses showing he was even here among us at all. It was... well to be honest it was both unnerving and worthy of jealousy. Not even my own steps were as quiet without help. I was fairly sure the boots I was wearing were helping with that. Of course, I wasn't going to tell anyone that. It was purely my own skill, and not magical boots that made my footfalls resound with quietude!
Just like the camoflage cloak didn't really help me blend in at all. That game refered to them as boots and cloaks of 'elvenkind'. All skill if asked though. Wish I could get a view of the sky. Well, without having to climb a tree. Sigh, I hate being idle. To pass the time I chucked walnuts at Matt when he wasn't looking.
He caught on quick, and soon walnuts were whistling through the trees as we dodged, grins on our faces. It was something to do. Of course it made little noise right up until an errant throw hit Karl in the breatplate with a sound oddly like a bullet ricochet.
If his glare was any indication, he was not appreciative. Brian and I of course gave him our best, most wide eyed innocent looks. I think mine was better.
And of course the moment was ruined by Phil coming back out of the shadow steeped entrance like a dog with his tail on fire... silently. He made no attempt at stealth at all, and yet remained quiet as a muted whisper... however he was still visible, and just did not seem to care. Speed was more important apparently. He hadn't even bothered to brush himself off; he was covered head to toe in dust and cob webs. Hmm.
Judging by the almost anime wide eyes, the slack jaw, and the wild erratic movements, something down there had scared him.
"Yeah epically bad idea to go down there."
His voice was raw and hoarse, and his eyes locked onto the passage he left as the sound hit us, loud enough to startle a few finches overhead into paniced flight. Two of his larger knives just seemed to appear in his hands, which started flipping them in what I would term a nervous gesture. He winced at the amount of noise his voice made and ducked down. He wasn't ducking down in front of anything either; he was still clearly visible.
"Sorry about that. There were a few traps, but nothing really bad. Old cellar down there. Problem was there were people down there. Dead ones."
A snake started to slither in my gut.
"Then what's got you so distressed?" Pastor Collins inquired. He had been so quiet all morning I had (shamefully) forgotten he was there.
"I said they were dead, not that they weren't moving. I expect them up to meet us, at any moment."
I hate when I'm right. I really, really do.I started paying more attention to our surroundings, and lent only an ear to the debate.
"So what should we do?"
There was no door, it had long since rotted away. The blocks were very heavy, and would take too many of us too long to move. If I used the really destructive spells I had in my arsenal (mostly fire based) then I'd no doubt kill us all in the forest fire - along with our home town, depending on winds.
"Couldn't we just outrun them?"
"Sure but what if they follow us? What if they don't and go somewhere else, and hurt someone else? What if other people find this place not knowing they are down there?"
"I get it, I get it!"
Ugh, come on, think! We can't pile logs up in front of the doorway, they would burn too, or just eventually get moved by sheer mindless force. We don't even know what type of undead we are dealing with... wait, undead. We have a cleric.
Why am I so worried?
I turned back to the group.
"Ready to hear a few suggestions?"
Karl replied yes glibly, pale though he was.
"It's simple. Pastor Collins can hold them in the door while we drop a stone in front of them. They won't be able to get to us then. Phil I need to know if there are other exits."
He shook his head.
"Checked before I went down; only the one, unless there is some sort of escape tunnel somewhere. Went all the way down too, that's why the dead are so pissed - I kinda walked in on them."
Pastor Collins turned ashen as I spoke with Phil.
"Lady Muse, I'm a priest, how can I possibly fight off the undead? especially alone as you're suggesting? Surely I misheard you?"
"You won't be alone, and it's precisely because you are a priest that you can. You hold your holy symbol up in front of them and yell whatever comes to mind, and your Goddess does the rest."
Yes, I am blowing smoke here. I had no way of knowing that this would work. However, it was a perfect time to test it, and he really would have armed backup. He just had to be in front of them to try to repel them, first. Even if it didn't work, they probably woudn't have time to grab him, drag him down into the cold dank recesses of the ruined tower, and rend him into bloody gobbets.
I hoped.
Sometimes I really am a despicable human being. Or not anymore. Of course all this hinged on one rather important fact, as my eyes made out some movement in the gloom. Phil tensed and his knives stopped spinning as pastor Collins got into position, trepidation oozing from the man. I walked up beside him; my plan, and if he went, we went together. Besides, not like I could really help carry those stupidly large stones.
"Crap, Karl, can you Matt and Tom even pick up one of the larger stones?"
The first undead burst from the ruins in all it's horrid glory. An adult male, possibly young. The rubbery, waxen face hanging in strips from it's skull made it hard to tell with certainty. I could feel myself detach as I continued to make out details. Something had clearly been at the thing at some point; bits of bleached white showed on the arms and legs, and the entrails were missing. Some other things were clearly still at the corpse, as it seemed to shed bugs of all kinds as it moved, in what I could only call a shamble with deceptive speed. A low dry cracking moan issued from behind it, clearly there were more.
Then the smell hit, just as pastor Collin hesitated with his small disk made of silver with a muttered prayer. As soon as he held it up he seemed to become somehow more. More there, slightly larger than life.
"Back into the darkness you unclean things! Back to the graves you once knew in the name of Minerva!"
A soft light that briefly outshone the sun erupted from the disk. The zombie (I was pretty sure that was what it was by now, from the smell if nothing else) stopped so fast that bugs flew and hit us. I couldn't stop my flinch, but Collins didn't waver; his eyes blazed fire and brimstone, his face somehow both cold and kind.
"Back, thing which should not be!"
The undead retreated into the doorway and the down the steps beyond, colliding with more of it's own in the darkness.
"Lady Muse, we can't lift any of these! They are embedded too deep. You got a plan b?"
Crap! crap crap crap. Crap crap crap crap crap crap... wait a minute.
"Can you use that big honking sword to collapse what's left of the doorway here? That would block the exit."
Tom rolled his eyes and mouthed 'big honking sword' back at me, but ran clanking up to the arch, up on a stone and set to work fearlessly, ignoring the occasional nasty arm that would try to sweep past the white light at him. Collins was sweating now but would have none of that. It only took a minute or so before the stones of the arch collapsed in front of the door. Pastor Collins and Tom both backed off warily; we were all still able to see a hint of movement beyond in the now fading but still almost painfully bright light.
"So um, now what? We run like hell?"
I shook my head at Phil, trying to get my nausea under control. A corpse eating beetle had hit me in the face. At least I hadn't swallowed it.
"No, now it's time for my part in the plan."
Aiming very carefully but quickly I shot a golf ball sized wad of fire into one of the cracks where an arm had briefly appeared. The good news was I had angled it correctly, down the staircase. Without further ado I grabbed the good pastor and started running, hauling him behind me. Tom had already gotten the idea, clanking behind me as soon as the fire left my hand. The others were a bit slower.
"Now you might want to run."
A long weighted glance between me and the ruin and we were all going, stumbling over hidden roots and fallen trees.
The big boom was of course, spectacular. Those bastards had hit me with corpse bugs, after all. I steadied Collins then turned back. Tom was picking himself up while shooting me a dark look, The others had taken cover behind trees or folds in the earth. They were already back up, and looking with no small amount of awe at the scene.
The tower itself had fallen much closer to ruin, the blast bulging the heavy stones outward in all directions, just barely missing compromising what was left of the structure. However, the blast had been contained, and directed mostly downward. Only a few small fires burned outside, though there was a glow from inside, just barely spotted when I strained
myself, that I did not like. Sigh, I had been hoping the containment would be enough, but I don't dare chance it.
Once again the elements responded to my concentration, and heeded my call. This time it was earths turn. I stepped out of my focus to find a small man-shape made of dirt and grass staring at me with glowing eyes the color of mud.
"Put out all fires within five hundred feet of me, please. Then you may go."
The dirt man nodded, collapsed into a pile and rolled off, leaving a slight but detectable trail of new growth in it's wake.
"An elemental?"
I nodded a bit wearily, sitting down to catch my breath.
A rough hand drew me around, and Tom's hot breath hit my face.
"If you could do all that, what was the point of all of us playing with stones and putting Collins in danger?"
I blinked into his anger.
"Would you rather have had me drop enough fire to light up 100 feet of forest on top of us without containing it? If the explosion itself didn't kill us, the massive forest fire would. Or maybe summoning the elemental with no idea that it was needed? Those things are draining to play with, and I can't keep it here long. Besides you all need to get used to thinking and acting quickly, as a team, to crap you'd never have dreamed of existed before."
Karl stepped up and gently removed Tom's arm from my shoulder.
"She's right man; she used a minimum of force to get the job done as cleanly as possible, only pulling out the big guns when she had to. Besides, you did well; when you see the mage cast a spell and run, you run too. The rest of us froze up a bit too long."
I wearily shook my head again, watching the dirt smother more flames.
"No, I am not happy with my performance. I froze up too, in the beginning. I meant to have my sword out and covering our priest when he tried to hold back the dead, and I meant not to use the fireball at all. I was originally going to use some oil from our stores and just let gravity carry the fire to them; less messy and worrisome all the way around."
He raised an eyebrow at me, intimidating me to confess with his spocky ways.
"The first threw corpse bugs all over me; I didn't feel too inclined to hold back at that point."
His incredulous snort ticked me off.
"What?!? It was disgusting, that's all!"
(tbc)
An hour later, with us almost to where the town of Shrewsberry stood, and the bug jokes still hadn't stopped. They had ranged from the mildly humorous attempts to get me to blast Phil on the grounds that he was a haven for fleas, (something I secretly thought at least could be true) to the more direct and far less funny suggestion by Randolf that I blast the ants spotted on the trail.
At least now it was mainly just devoted to snickers and muttering amongst themselves. Jerks; I defy them to get hit in the face with a beetle that had recently been chewing on a walking human corpse a short time before and not get a little trigger happy. Not that I was in any way trigger happy. I ignored a fresh spate of giggles from my so called friends with head held high. Philistines.
At least pastor Collins hadn't joined in, though the sympathetic glances he had been giving me after I apologized for my failure rankled too. I'm not made of glass, no reason to think I'll crack just because of silly attitudes. And I'm not in any way phobic about bugs, despite what they all may think. The fatigue I had been fighting since I summoned the earth elemental had not helped the former illusion; even on the straight and relatively level road I couldn't push with any speed. I couldn't tell if I was slowing my friends up, they were being very good at acting like our pace was good, but I couldn't help thinking we should be there already, and they all had longer legs than I did.
Just as I despaired of ever reaching the next town over, we crested a small rise I don't remember being there when last I was this way, and saw it below us, in a depressed clearing full of wildflowers. Lilac and bluebells? that didn't make much sense... about as much sense as me knowing those flowers, let alone being able to tell them apart. Though I supposed bluebells were so easy anyone could I.D those. At any rate the road led down and right through them, to the town of Shrewsberry. Which was apparently under martial law.
I could see the haphazard barricade in front of the road, constructed of overturned wagons and carts, and the beginnings of a palisade. I could just make out rough dressed people working on the latter, and hiding behind the former, with bows, sickles, and scythes in hand. the crude mismatched marching patrol was hardly intimidating, but a nice touch.
And of course as we started down, their sentries saw us and all activity ceased. Almost criminal that, we could be a distraction. A good thing we weren't, but we obviously had much to discuss with the local powers that be. The further down we went, the more my own heart sank. It was blatantly obvious that whatever had happened, the town of Shrewsberry had not only not avoided it, it had been smacked by it as hard as we had. Hand carts and wagons could possibly be explained, or have been the only thing changed.
But instead, the houses were crude logs and mortar, much as the ones we left behind this morning. Most weren't even painted or whitewashed or whatever it was ours had. I coudl almost see the well in the center of town in my mind's eye, with the gossips chatting by it. The inn close by, the mayor's house would of course be painted. Perhaps there would even be the remains of a monster of some kind, barbecued on a bonfire last night? Nah, that level of deja vu would end the world. But something had to spook them.
"Hands visible guys, and walk slow. The natives are pretty riled up."
General assent was evident even without words, and we all raised our hands. Starting down, the thing that hit me the most was the smell; the lilacs and bluebells did more than vie for spatial dominance, the fragrances were heady when combined. It actually made me slightly dizzy... at least I hoped that was what was making me dizzy. The cautious (or perhaps paranoid) citizens waitind until we reached shouting distance of the barricade. They did not send out a welcoming party, instead preferring to seek cover so we had no convenient target.
"That's far enough, strangers! State your business!"
Seriously? I mean, seriously?
This did not bode well for finding answers here at all; if they were so far gone as to act like cliche villager yokel hick extras, then they wouldn't be smart enough to avoid licking metal in winter, let alone provide us good information. I feel that Karl summed the sentiment up well for all of us.
"Seriously man?!? What the hell do you think our business is? We're trying to find out what the hell happened to us! Maybe you like having to walk everywhere in itchy clothes and crapping behind bushes with no TP, but try to understand not all share your sentiments. Now can we talk, or not?"
The man, startled out of his hick impression, stood. He was a tall, lanky sort, a good seven feet tall if he was an inch. He also looked to weigh about as much as I did. His unkempt, spiky, and rather lank hair was almost orange, and his skin had more in common with leather than I would have felt comfortable with. He was holding a scythe easily in one hand, and as he stood, he waved it about with such abandon that I wouldn't have been surprised to see a head roll towards us.
Randolf's muted scoff of "Amateurs." made me grin a bit though. How quickly he forgets.
I didn't recognize him at least, that was something. I'd have been downright ashamed if he'd been a friend of mine. Unfortunately, he seemed to know me right off.
"Lady Muse! It's Lady Muse!"
Whispered murmurs started; gossip spreading like wildfire, and no doubt faster than the people who just ran off as if their butts were on fire. Just perfect. I suppressed the urge to facepalm.
"Um, do I know you or something?"
Then from out of nowhere hands grabbed him and dragged him back beyond my vision behind the wagons. There was muted whispering I only caught every third word of, mainly words like "idiot" and "get us all killed". Then a new face stepped out behind the same wagon the other guy was dragged behind.
He was a small man, barely a few inches over me with a slight gymnast's build. He wore dark almost black grey cotton pants, a dark maroon tunic that looked to be some kind of wool, and a black hide vest. He also sported a cap, one of those strange folded ones with a small ostrich feather plume sticking from it. The dandy image was completed with a few decently crafted pieces of jewelry and a rapier attached to his hip.
"Sorry; please forgive Owen, he was dropped on his head one too many times as a child."
Snickers all around, my own joining them. He made a sweeping gesture while we recovered and the 'sentries' lowered their 'weapons'.
"So, of course you're here to investigate all this. I must admit I didn't expect to see you here though Lady Muse. Mayor Conratty is a fool."
Well on that we could all agree, but this was curious. Why would he say such a thing?
"Why would you say that, mr...."
"Ah right. Apologies again, I'm Leeroy Wylde. Right now, I lead this rabble, for the moment. And to answer your question, for some reason, your name and likeness is known to us. In the same way as I now know how to us this." He tapped his sword to clarify.
So the same way I knew magic. Somehow I had a reputation that went beyond those who knew me. A good or bad thing? Only time would tell. I was leaning towards bad because it seemed to suggest what we all suspected; that this event was well beyond just one or two towns. That it might be state or even continent wide. The thought that it was truly worldwide hovered around my head for a second, but it was too big. The best I could do was work on my own end of this. He continued.
"As for mayor Conratty being a fool, well he is about many things. But if it were me, I wouldn't simply send the strongest magic user in the region away on an errand, even one such as this. Especially one such as this. I'd want you close to home, especially given the trouble we had yesterday."
Natural segue into the million dollar question.
"And what trouble would that be?"
"Well, aside from the obvious situation, yesterday morning this large tusked ape faced humanoid came into the center of town, where everyone was gathering, and started yelling gibberish. The encounter ended with the thing assaulting and almost killing one of our own, before we managed to chase it out of town."
I was pretty sure I knew, but I had to ask the next logical question.
"Was it an Orc?"
The light dawned in his and other eyes, like a flashlight turning itself on. He finally waved us in, and weapons were lowered.
"Yes, that's what it was! It had to be an orc! But what was an orc doing in the center of town? I mean, their kind...."
He spared a glance at me, one so quick I don't think anyone else caught it. But I knew what it meant. Their kind weren't welcome. Orcs had a reputation of being dumb bloodthirsty brutes, who only valued strength of arms. The problem is, I could not fully trust what my mind was telling me, or my gamer and myth knowledge.
Because like me, that Orc had been a human two days ago.
I wasn't sure, and hoped I was wrong, but logic and intuition both screamed out that I was correct. But should I mention it? If I didn't, then these villagers might well kill the next Orc to come along. It was clear that they were scared; the fear was on every face, even more so than the ones back home. Fear was the death of logic.
"Have you performed a head count yet? A tally of all the people you have here?"
"We have, a head count on the green was the first thing we tried. We had almost a dozen people missing. Three came back today; some were on trips to other towns for one reason or another, and found themselves having to walk home. We suspect more were out there, and simply did not make it."
"Possible, but I have another theory. Who is still missing?"
"Why, looking for someone?"
I shook my head.
"No, but I have a theory that needs checking. Can you arrange to take us to the homes of the missing?"
His piercing look seemed to see something he didn't like, but he nodded.
"I don't know all the details, I'm just helping out here. But I can get you a guide to take you wherever you need, assuming our own mayor agrees. Time to go see him now."
"Of course."
It suddenly occurred to me that my party had been silent this entire time... too silent. I looked back to find them all staring at me; Karl with amusement, Matt with a shrug, and the rest with calculating gazes and glassy eyes I really wasn't comfortable with.
"What?"
"Nothing, nothing. Mr. Wylde, can we confer alone a moment?"
"Sure."
He motioned everyone back as I was pulled into an akward huddle. Thomas started off.
"You do remember you're not in charge of this expedition, right?"
"Of course I'm not, I'm just impatient. Look, it was obvious from the moment we saw them this wasn't some local thing. It was obvious to them the moment they saw us too. We answered our first question already; we just don't know how far it extends. Finding missing people is important, it will cement friendship with the locals around here, which we may need, and allow us to explore their territory unopposed. We need that to make sure we find all clues and gather all the information we can, both of which we may otherwise miss. We also can't dismiss the possibility that one of the missing people might have information we need."
The collection of dropped jaws tempted me to start using them to pot plants in. That they seriously thought I was going off half cocked-again, was something I needed to talk to them about at length, but here and now was not the time nor place. Karl added his thoughts.
"Remarkably well thought out, but we need to balance it against the risk that we're taking. The forest is filled with dangers, we know that already. Getting us all killed looking for people that are most likely dead won't answer the other questions we need to answer."
Randolf chimed in, loud whisper threatening to carry.
"That's right, and for all we know the natives here could be hostile! I don't like the look of them at all."
Phil elbowed him in the gut with a smile.
"You always think everyone is hostile."
"That's why I'm still alive." was the solemn reply.
...The hell was he talking about? The closest he got to mortal peril was pissing off a member of the Hell's Angels by decking his girlfriend/old lady. His eyes looked more than a little gone. I snapped my fingers in his face.
"Bullshit. Worse you ever did was fight in bars. Don't go flaking out on us."
He snorted rudely.
"Like you know all there is to know about me."
Karl broke it up before it had a chance to get ugly.
"Alright I think we're done here. I agree with Lady Muse's thoughts, and back the decision. But let's not get lax. Watch your backs."
Mr Wylde looked up with some masterful restraint on that poker face of his as we started back towards his people. He had been joined by another. A small (about my height! Finally!) almost completely bald man who looked like he was one foot, perhaps even the wrong foot, into his grave. No trace of the amusement I'm sure both were feeling at our football huddle. I hung back this time, letting Karl take the lead.
"Sorry about that."
"It's no problem; may I present our mayor, Mr. Anderson."
"Nice to meet you, mayor Anderson. So about this problem you guys have, with missing people? Our resident expert seems to think that it might be a good idea to investigate the houses."
"So I've heard, it's an excellent idea. I had ordered them closed for fear of looting or vandalism. People are scared right now. I'll act as your guide myself; I knew all the people missing personally, and it's quite a blow. I fear the worst."
It was highly likely that his worst was not the actual worst, but I had been chastised, so I won't say anything. Let Karl, the leader, handle it.
I decided to focus on the surroundings. The village, now that I could see it, was better constructed than home, (with the exception of my house) with actual planed lumber set in a box shape, many of them stained various shades. There were no gaps, any potential holes or cracks were filled with some dark substance that in most cases matched the wood it was adhered to. They also seemed to be put together with actual pegs, maybe even nails, rather than the slotted wood construction used just a few miles away.
Where we had a green, Shrewsberry had a large stream running through the center of town, almost enough to float boats on. I could see small fish of some sort or another darting through the crystal currents. The entire visible length of it was studiously avoided by the townsfolk, save one spot of hard packed earth naked of plant life downstream, where water was being gathered by the more industrious.
There were well kept wooden walkways inset in the dirt but appearing (and feeling) very sturdy, along with a few small bridges over the stream. No doubt more to keep the stream from being befouled than the people. Hygiene for the win. The market was laid out on the north side, and had people, farmers or merchants, selling fruits and vegetables. I recognized the cabbages and lettuce, the turnips and potatoes. Some were a mystery however.
The people sported hard faces still bearing shell-shocked looks. Even the merchants didn't seem to have their hearts into their work; the yelling was half hearted and barely obnoxious. I could still hear the rather complex birdsong going on outside the village. Those songs were far more interesting, I had to admit.
"You! Stop right there!"
The deep booming voice fooled me from the first. I looked around for it's source, then realized my mistake when motion hit the corner of my eyes... The lower edge. And of course a true nightmare was beheld the moment I looked down. I should have known in a world with Elves, zombies, and possible Orcs, the dwarf race would also be a thing.
What was more surprising was the irrational surge of hatred and contempt I felt the moment my eyes beheld his glory; a surge of emotion which, judging from what I saw in his eyes, he shared... right down to the surprise. I took a mental step back and went back into observer mode.
The dwarf was perhaps 3 and a half feet tall, with a wild beard that reached down to his boots in true zz top fashion, a light gray contrast to his dark brown hair. His eyes were a rather piercing blue, his face filled with a veritable road map of lines and crags. He wore some slightly smelly and very stained leathers under a shiny mail shirt. His trope weapon of choice was the double bladed war axe poking up from behind his head. Gods only knew how he managed to keep his head intact when he turned it, or for that matter, how he reached the ax in a fight without an impromptu shave. His boots were metal shod, and he left deep impressions in the earth behind him as he stumped up to us.
His mutter of "Oh great, one of them." Was of course heard by me, and I think that it was intentional. I don't think anyone else actually heard it, being a bit too busy fighting off bemusement. The mayor and our guide though, both took the dwarf seriously. Which meant that maybe I should too. The ever so faint smell of fresh blood clinging to his person seemed to corroborate that idea.
"Mr. Mayor, Mr. Wylde. What is going on?"
"Mr. Stone."
Of course, how very fitting. I really hoped all dwarves didn't have rock names; I'd have to murder a few small children till the world felt right again. Or as right as it currently did, anyway.
"Mr Stone, meet Lady Muse, Pastor Collins, Thomas Caine, Randy Wills, Matt Lockland, and Karl. They have come to our neck of the woods to
investigate all the strangeness. Everyone, Ethan Stone, a resident of Shrewsberry."
The dwarf raised an eyebrow, no doubt noting that the mayor hadn't given Karl's last name, and that our town of origin hadn't been offered; He should know both as common knowledge, but that did not mean he did. He didn't seem to be an out of towner. At least, the locals around him treated him like he was one of theirs. He spared another venom filled glance for me and some more veiled hostility for the rest of my party. The Mayor noticed and his words started tumbling out.
And of course, his last name was Stone. I wonder if they all had similar names; it'd be stupidly cliche if so. I wondered if anyone else caught that; I'd hate to think I was the only one. I re-tuned into the verbal diarrhea.
"Mr Stone, Karl and his friends are here to investigate the issue that has beset us all. They have managed to survive the journey to us in order to compare notes."
"Oh, and what have you found so far?"
I stayed silent as Karl answered.
"Dinosaurs and zombies so far. Well that and that this is more than one hamlet wide. Right now we are considering finding just how far it
extends."
"And we thought it was dangerous with just the Orcs." The mayor shook his head, the fringes of hair he had left waving in his self created breeze.
"Have you tried sending out an expedition of your own?"
He shook his head at me this time.
"No, we were too busy freaking out; we decided to turtle up here and wait for help. This is the place, the first house."
The dwarf spoke up.
"You sure about letting them in there Mr. Mayor?"
"Well I don't see what it could hurt. Mr. Wylde if you please?"
Leeroy made a slight production of producing a slightly rusted old style skeleton key, from his pocket and opening the door. Thus clued in, I took another look at the place in question. At first glance it didn't look any different than it's neighbors. It wasn't even larger. But on that second glance, it had iron nails, a full doorknob with a lock, and sported almost fine iron hinges on the door and and window shutters. Said door and shutters sported actual scroll-work, a series of lazy lines in an almost Celtic fashion.
so someone with a little wealth lived here; even more wealth than the rest of this town. I wasn't jealous... much. My own hinges were bronze.
As we entered, the mayor first, I took a closer look at the locking plate; there was something about it that looked odd from the iron I'd seen so far... A quick touch and my finger tingled. That was odd.
"Say, is there any magic on this door? Any magic users here at all?"
The others looked puzzled as Leeroy answered me.
"Well there is an apothecary on the other side of the square, and our priest, but no, no mages. And there shouldn't be any magic on the door."
A quick shifting of my own perceptions revealed no magic on the door whatsoever. Weird. A longer touch to the plate, and my finger was on fire.
"Ouch, what the hell!?!"
Matt was at my side in an instant.
"You OK?"
My finger had an angry red burn on it which covered the entire pad. The dwarf grumbled behind me, face in his hand.
"Get a move on you blasted fairy! It's cold forged iron... you know, the stuff you're allergic too."
Well color me stupid. I should have remembered that. In the game most types of Elves had no such weakness; but in myth and lore, most of them do. I'm sure the light dawning in Matt's eyes reflected my own. Alright, so I would have to avoid such metal in the future. But I didn't have to let that sawed off runt know I was grateful for the heads up. I'd have figured it out eventually, he likely didn't need to say something at all.
"Alright I'm moving shrimpy, don't get your beard twisted."
The burn hurt with a dull aching throb. It would be a good reminder to be careful.
The front door opened into the living room, which was a mess. The rather sturdy looking polished oaken table was broken cleanly in two, the companion chairs splintered. A plush divan was upended in the corner, books were strewn about, many of them ripped in half. a quick glance down the small hallway revealed tattered clothing strewn everywhere, and various valuables strewn about; jewelry and coins, mostly.
What sort of Orc would leave valuables behind? Of course I was all but sure of my answer. I took a look into the kitchen. It looked much like mine, with a rack for pots and pans, a granite fireplace, and another large sturdy oaken table. There was another door off to the side which I assumed led either to a cellar or pantry. The kitchen was also spotless, pristine and untouched. There were even red checkered curtains on the windows.
Everyone else had gone straight to the bedroom, so I joined them there.
"other than what you saw, there were no signs of violence. Not even a little blood. So we are at a loss. We can't really determine if anything is missing."
"so who lived here?"
"Sidney Black, a friend of mine. We went to high school together. He was a successful lawyer, and we had been friends for years. The Orc that came charging down the square and accosted me came from this house."
I spent my time looking. This house was indeed for a rich person, as it had a bath and a washbasin, with a pure inblemished mirror... The trail of destruction started here, if the razors and soap thrown about were any indication; perhaps it could have started in the bedroom itself, but if so then why would the trail lead into the bathroom, then out again? It didn't lead down the opposite hall, it didn't lead to the kitchen, it led from the bathroom to straight out the door.
"Mr. Stone, when you first woke up yesterday and found out you were... shorter, what did you do?"
Thus put on the spot before us all, he scuffed a gauge in the floor with his boot, trying to smooth it over. It almost worked, he had some heavy feet.
"Well I imagine it was much like you; I freaked out a bit, and tried to figure out what was going on."
I nodded. Karl looked as if he understood too, as did Tom.
"It seems that Elves and Dwarves aren't the only new species humans have been transformed into. I'm fairly confident judging from this evidence that your old friend was the Orc that accosted you."
I could see the denial forming on the mayor's lips so I pressed on.
"The trail started at the bathroom, at the mirror. If I may engage in a bit of speculation here, Mr. Black wakes up, notices he's green now, and stumbles to the bathroom, where he beholds his new form. distraught, he panics and gives in to his new found rage. then he stumbles outside for help, only he can no longer speak the common tongue. Enraged again, he finally hits you, and horrified at the act or afraid of the consequences, he runs away."
"But why would he no longer speak the language?"
"Not sure, but yesterday morning I woke up knowing how to speak elvish. The day before I was multilingual. Perhaps if I hadn't been, I too would have problems communicating?"
I looked to the dwarf and he nodded. He knew and had known multiple languages too.
Matt spoke up.
"Well, while we are on that subject... you do talk rather off sometimes, with strange grammar and word choices sometimes. It's not anything too bad, I mean most of the time you're spot on, but it's almost as if english is no longer your first language. And also when you burned your finger you cursed in elvish."
I had no idea, why had no one told me this before? I y was actually pretty important.
"If it's even English all of you are speaking. It may not be; but in either case, it's fairly obvious now that language barriers will now exist."
"... I had no idea. My own friend and I treated him like a monster...."
"Mr. Mayor! Snap out of it sir, there is no way you could have known. For now it's more important that the word be spread and we check those other houses. We don't want anyone else making the same mistake if we can help it; after all, if people are turning into Orcs too, well Orcs are well known for their tempers and less than forgiving nature. Any antagonizing on our part can lead to problems we don't want."
Like killing on both sides.
"Right! I'll spread the word that we don't want to shoot them on sight or anything. I wonder if anyone in town can speak their language...."
I didn't want to mention that if so, they had likely already turned green and either run or hidden themselves. I addressed the next question to Karl, as politely and deferentially as I could. In a way, I was lucky that what I had changed into looked so much like a human. And perhaps gave off a nice nonthreatening vibe, being smaller than they are. I know that I was never so happy to have taken languages in college, and I did not like to think such thoughts.
"I think we've learned all we need here; to the next house?"
"Yeah, I think you're right; let's go."
The next houses were clear; no signs at all of violence, and everything was where it was supposed to be, best as any of us could tell. The relief was palpable, we had no more changed people running around. However that meant that if the people of Shrewberry were serious, search parties would have to be organized and conducted. Our part here in determining the truth of the disappearances we done.
Of course, like every other question answered, it raised more. Like, the biggest question: why was I the only changed person in our little hamlet? Why were there no missing townspeople like Shrewsberry had? Was it such a rare occurrence? Why was it rare? What dictated the change in the first place, did it follow any rules at all?
No answers to those.
I'd also been keeping my senses focused on the main problem; I'd seen no weird magic or dimensional anomalies or felt anything strange at all. Which made me think my new senses may not be the way to go about finding anything out... but of course it was all I had. Senses gather data, which the brain then interprets, and all that. The fact that I wouldn't have had any way to detect anything of the sort two days ago was promptly shelved as a useless distraction.
The summary of the situation in Shrewsberry was that until we arrived they knew less than we did. We were not going to find answers here. The only good lead we found was the language angle, and I had no idea what to make of it yet.
"So looks like we're pretty much done here. Lady Muse?"
I nodded, I couldn't think of anything else we needed to check. The mayor was still troubled.
"Thank you for helping us. Please, if you find our missing people, send them home."
"Yeah we will. we will keep an eye out; chances are they went missing along the road, and that's where we're going, so... we will do what we can."
"Excuse me Mr. Mayor."
The dwarf again, still staring at us in myopic suspicion.
"Yes Ethan, what is it?"
"I'm going to go with these people, in the best interests of Shrewsberry. Someone needs to represent us in this endeavor, and I'm nominating myself."
Oh no. No no no. I tried to shoot Karl a look to let him know how bad an idea this was. He was rather obviously avoiding looking my direction. Matt looked amused. I knew the others would be no help; Pastor Collins would not object at all, and Randolf and Thomas would be more interested in sticking it to me to help me here.
"Well I can't make you stay, you have a choice... "
Make him stay. Make him stay!
"... If their team does not object, that is. Otherwise we might have to form our own."
Sure lay on the guilt, jerk. I knew they had no magical artillery, and that lowered the life expectancy of any party they formed significantly. There were no objections from us.
"Splendid! Thank you for taking on our representative."
Again the Mayor looked relieved. Wanting the dwarf gone perhaps? If so, why? Hopefully that wasn't it. Hopefully it was no more than him being happy that Mr. Stone wouldn't be off on his own, or following us alone. I knew how stubborn dwarves were, and thought that the most likely outcome to any dissent on our part. I shouldn't immediately jump to racism off the bat. Or maybe, judging by the relief I could see on Mr. Stone's face, I could.
"If you don't mind, just let me get my traveling pack. I'll meet you at the road in 5 minutes."
"Sure, we'll be there."
(tbc.)
True to his word, Mr. Stone did not keep us waiting long. It could have been more than the stated five minutes, but without watches or smart phones we had no way of knowing. It' s the little conveniences that are missed the most. That true-ism was actually from a reporter reporting in a war zone; Baghdad, I think, but I couldn't remember for sure.
“Thank you for waiting. I appreciate the chance to go along.”
Karl asked the million dollar question I wanted to, but didn't dare.
“So, why did you want to come along? You seemed pretty suspicious of us before.”
In response he pointed rather rudely at me.
“Well, you had her along. You even listen to her. You seem to have level heads, more so than those we just left. To be honest, it felt as if it were just a matter of time before I was run out of town; I just hastened things a bit. Hopefully either we can fix whatever happened, or absence will make their hearts grow fonder, and I'll be able to go home after all this.”
That was... surprisingly forthcoming of him, and I could sympathize. I made the effort, and lowered my own paranoia a notch. The way he was treated must have been far different than the deference/awe I had been treated with so far; it had to be a mage thing, as opposed to an elf thing.
Poor Dwarves, and their lack of magic. I couldn't even imagine it... which was really strange, because I hadn't had any myself a few days ago. Or had I? The cars, phones, television, and computers... wasn't science a type of magic in itself? Those devices were able to make the impossible commonplace every day.
Of course, we didn't have Elementals a few days ago, so there was that. Didn't have zombies either. But we had legends of zombies, for thousands of years in some cultures. So what did that mean exactly? I was on to something there, I smelled it. A ghost of a ghost of a thought.
“So, why do you listen to an elf anyway?”
Well that was rude; very rude.
“How partial are you to that beard, exactly?”
He backpedaled.
“I didn't mean it like that! What I meant was, my own home town was treating me as if I were half a stranger; like I didn't belong there, with them. And you heard how they reacted to the Orc. I'm fighting a fair bit of prejudice that's been rammed into my head sideways, and unless I miss my guess little lady, you are too.”
While I bristled at the little lady comment, I had to concede the point.
“I am, and I'm sorry; I'm trying very hard not to snap.”
He nodded thoughtfully.
“As am I, but that begs the answer to my question; why aren't you receiving the same treatment? Even my own village was all but kissing your ass.”
It had to be reputation somehow. While beating the dinosaur with magic would be enough for my own home, Mr. Stone's town would not know anything about that until I told them, and they still treated me with respect. How would I have such a reputation? I've only been using magic for a few days.
“It has to be my reputation as a mage somehow. Let me ask you; were you always a bit taciturn, or introverted?”
He nodded, conceding my point.
“Yes, I never did like the neighbors much, but I was never impolite or anything of that sort.”
“right. I think somehow who we were carries over into who we are now; no idea how it works, but I was always sort of active in my community.”
For better or worse. It definitely was part of why mayor Conratty was anxious to get rid of me. Come to think of it, pastor Collins had too... and Karl was more a friend of mine than the mayor's. I didn't know if the others were sort of enemies of the mayor, or more of the general malcontents, but I suspected the latter.
“Perhaps that's it, but something tells me there is more to it, and it's something worth investigating. So, here I am, and I can help you all investigate what's going on as well. Safety in numbers and all that.”
“You'd have followed us if we hadn't said yes, wouldn't you?”
Mr. Stone nodded.
“Or course; wouldn't you?”
I had to admit, at least to myself, that I would. I didn't need to say it out loud however, Karl, Matt and Mr. Stone were already turning away to give more attention to their surroundings, and Randolf was looking at me in a new light, by all appearances. It made me a bit uncomfortable really, but I didn't let it show – I hoped.
I had to focus myself; we were out of the village limits proper, and the forest was starting to close in again. After the zombies in the gas station that wasn't a gas station, a certain amount of wariness was called for.
After all it was only paranoia if no one was out to get you.
The late afternoon however, mocked such attention; it was calm, with a slight northerly breeze. The sun was bright and warm; even the highly overgrown forest was bright in comparison to when we set out this morning. The air carried the same hint of flowers and wild spices it had before, and I couldn't help but want to breathe it in.
And of course in the middle of taking nice deep breaths, I caught all the men staring at me. Damned if I do, indeed. Mr. Stone snorted.
“Must be an elf thing.”
“I was smelling the air; don't you smell the hint of wild onion? The strong smell of Horsemint off the right?”
“Of course I smell it, faerie, I just don't need to breathe it in like that. What's so great about the stench of a few plants?”
“Never mind Mr. Stone, if you don't understand, I don't think I can explain it to you.”
Thomas piped up from a nearby tree.
“It's OK, she can breathe like that all she wants, we won't complain at all.”
“Shouldn't your eyes be the other way? You know, facing away from us, looking for threats?”
He grinned, the smug bastard.
“I couldn't possibly pass up such a view. Any ambush that gets us is worth it.”
“You won't say that if a dinosaur sneaks up on us.”
They all stopped and just stared at me.
“Alright, so they can't really sneak. My point stands. Screw you guys anyway.”
Karl decided to rope in the morons.
“Alright guys, the point is still a good one. Eyes facing where they should be. Focus up, remember the zombies.”
They all sobered up, even Mr. Stone, who hadn't seen them personally.
A lesson of a more abject sort was not long in coming. Karl fell into, of all things, a pit trap. It was cleverly concealed in the middle of the trail; None of us spotted it. If Karl's feet hadn't been heavily armored, the spikes at the bottom would have impaled him; as it was, he was able to keep standing, barely. The climb out was a long one however, even with Randolf helping things along.
So who set it?
A quick investigation revealed dark freshly turned earth, still bearing it's musty smell. The worms were still wriggling along through it, and the stakes were green and oozing sap. For all of that, it had been camouflaged by a master; small sticks in a grid pattern bearing a slight dusting of what had appeared to be hard packed dirt. For all I knew it could have been from the road itself mere hours ago; it certainly smelled like it.
A quick thought and gesture, and the dirt the hole was missing came out of the woods and filled it again; wouldn't do to leave traps like that in the road for the next passersby to die to.
All done in hours. Maybe less. What could...?
“Thomas.”
“Yes?”
“Phil.”
“Yes?”
“You both need to start scouting ahead, very carefully. Stay in sight of us and each other at all times, and be on the lookout for anything unusual; anything at all that doesn't fit. There will be more traps like this. Karl, get a walking stick, a long one.”
Matt, a bit more savvy than the rest when it came to these things, bent over to whisper.
“What are you thinking?”
My whispered reply was cryptic; I didn't want to give voice outright to the horror I feared it was.
“Something I hope I'm wrong about. Oh boy, do I ever hope I'm wrong.”
There was a new trap about every ten feet on the road. Pits, swinging logs coming from the tree line, once an honest to the gods rolling boulder trap. All cleverly concealed by a master of the art, or so Phil kept insisting. I just knew that my guess was getting more likely.
According to Phil and Thomas, the traps out in the woods lining the road were even better. Or as Phil was putting it:
“I'm telling you, you almost fell in it. One more inch to the right and you'd have been upside down, hanging like a trout.”
Thomas of course, was bristling worse than a cornered porcupine.
“No way in all the hells was it that close. I had a good amount of clearance to disarm both traps, and I managed just fine.”
“I know what I saw Thomas, you were almost trapped while disarming another. It's OK, we can't all be as good as me.”
That did not bode well at all.
“So the trap builders are getting more creative then?”
“Yes indeed. I'd suspect they were watching us, but I haven't caught them at it. So if they are, they are VERY good.”
Of course they are. Sigh, it almost has to be them, doesn't it? I can't think of any other critter or race so good at trap making and so absolutely cowardly as to employ long term trap ambush tactics like this. Especially after the first several traps didn't work; any other race would switch to some other tactic. But not these, no they would just hide, and good luck finding them.
And all this was taking place along what was once a well traveled road, leading to two different villages, with only 10 miles or so between them, and not more than a mile away from Shrewsberry. Someone was bound to get hurt or killed if we did nothing.
But how to draw them out? Usually getting 'caught' was a good way to draw them out, but the traps weren't big enough for all of us, and the evil little things wouldn't come out before a healthy group like ours. Unless we made them. But if their boltholes were too good for even our ranger and rogue to spot, how would we do that?
I wouldn't burn the forest for this, that was just stupid.
Think! How to do this? Of course, I'm an idiot... the very same thing we were discussing earlier. Reputation. They always did have a nice healthy awe of magic, and magic users. I could use that to bluff them. It would require a light show, but I could do that.
“Group huddle guys. I've got a plan.”
They huddled; I silently directed Phil, Thomas, and Randolf to face outward so we couldn't be shot with arrows while our backs were turned. It wasn't likely, but it could happen.
“OK so the plan is, I make a flashy light show while you all cover me, then I bluff. You guys follow my lead.”
Karl looked curious.
“Why do you think that will work? We haven't seen any sign of these trap builders; they could be long gone by now.”
“No, they are here; watching us. I'm sure of it. They have just had hours to prepare their camouflage. It's like their traps now, so well hidden we'd have to trip over it.”
Matt asked again.
“You know what's doing this? How dangerous are they? Orcs?”
“I suspect, and if I'm right, they are very dangerous. And no, worse than Orcs.”
Mr. Stone spoke up, having invited himself to our huddle.
“What could be worse than Orcs?”
Pastor Collins shook his head, finger to his lips.
“Don't say such things. It could be always be something worse than Orcs. Or worse than worse than Orcs.”
I stared at him, and he blushed.
“You know what I mean, Muse.”
I nodded.
“I do, but trust me, if I tell you, you won't believe me. Just work with me on this. We need to solve this, or Shrewsberry citizenry is in danger. Anyone who comes down this path that isn't as good as we are is going to die. And they might even be able to get one of us, if we continue to let them try hard enough.”
Karl's hand was a comforting presence on my shoulder.
“We trust you. Do what you need to do, we will follow your lead.”
I released a breath I didn't know I was holding and nodded. How to make the best light show? Hmm, a simple summoning? I already knew I could summon Elementals. No, in the numbers I needed I'd quickly drain myself, even with minor ones. So if I couldn't do that, I should fake it.
My own variant of the light spell, a little juiced up, would do perfectly. Especially when combined with another small spell I knew. This was the first time I went ahead and actually focused on my magic, without the element of surprise or adrenalin dump from seeing a charging dinosaur that could level a house.
It was harder than I thought to make the magic come unbidden. It was a focus, a feeling, a code of emotional response. I'm not sure how to describe it, other than to summon light, I needed to feel light, to be bright emotionally. I was also very sure that it was different for other spell casters.
Stray thoughts defeated the process though, so I had to start again. I ignored Matt raising his eyebrow at me and cleared my mind with far more ease than I should have... almost as if I were more experienced at this sort of thing than I really was. Another piece of the puzzle.
In seconds 6 multi-colored balls of light were swirling around me, trailing a slowly fading colored dust and making strange sounds, almost ghostly ooooo noises but not quite. I actually fed pretty proud of my creations until I caught the muted snickers from the peanut gallery.
Philistines, I swear if they screwed this up... well it'd be the toad treatment, and flies for all.
Now, to make this good. Loudly, and as clear as I could.
“If you don't come out, I'll send my minions hunting for you. You won't like what happens when they catch you, so come out now. You have five minutes.”
I sent the harmless balls of light flitting around the group, slowly at first, then faster in a show of agitation.
Then I swear, my ear twitched. Stupid twitchy ears, they had caught something. A gust of wind brought more, and I realized what I was hearing was a snatch of conversation:
“...but what is minute?”
“Not know, may be magic thing? You want find out? Could be bad.”
“But she say we have them. Isn't have things good?”
Oh gods damn it. I hate being right. I really do.
A quick twitch sent two of my globes of light heading the direction of the sound. The reaction was immediate.
“It sees us!”
“The jig is up! We should flee!”
“Shut up Norie, you is stupid! Give up is only way!”
Thomas twitched a bit. The voices had raised, and he had heard that part. The next action of the little scum in question though made that point moot. The horrid reedy voice I'd heard raised itself in an ear wincing, strident refrain from back along the road we had just passed, not more than 100 feet from us:
“We give ups! Don't hurt us!”
They were as tall or perhaps a little less than the dwarf, but had to weigh far less. Animal like legs despite an upright posture, hands that might be lacking in fingers, but managed to have an opposable thumb. Snaggle toothed maws under beady black eyes, ragged clothes covering mottled fur and scabrous lesions. Small harmless claws, but one held a rusted dagger, and the rest small cudgels.
And oddly enough, they had hair, sticking out straw like from baggy potato sack hats. It just had to be freaking Kobolds.
Cowardly, back-biting, trap setting half intelligent vermin only one jump up from giant rats, and probably distant cousins to same. They certainly had the look of bipedal rats, without the fat. Thomas's hands tightened on his bow, making it creak. Karl looked amused if anything, Randolf looked intrigued. Matt and Mr. Stone looked as suitably horrified as I felt, however.
Matt's reaction was expected, but Mr. Stone's wasn't, perhaps he had previous experience with the things? If so, how? Was he a gamer in another life, like Matt and I? Questions for another time.
As I watched, the one in the least ragged clothes stepped forward from his small pack of four, mouth open to speak. I cut him off. (I hoped it was a him, it was wearing pants... but then they all were.)
“Is this all of you? Speak truth or all of you will be cursed.”
I didn't know any curses, but I knew Kobolds were among the most superstitious races in all fantasy settings. That was what made this plan work; the little vermin would not willingly bring down the wrath of a magic user upon themselves, even a weak one. And I was anything but weak. Exactly how strong I was I didn't know, but Kobolds were no threat face to face.
They preferred to set traps then loot corpses for valuables and food. Sometimes the food was the corpse itself. They rarely attacked full well equipped parties though, preferring to let them go by in favor of easier conquests. We were never really in danger, but ordinary Shrewsberry citizens would be killed without thought or remorse.
But for all of that, I couldn't forget the most important fact; these cowardly flea bitten things may have started out as human as I was. They had in effect, fell for my ruse and surrendered. Anything final we did to them could be murder.
Of course, if they were just jumped up rats, then murder was stretching it, even though they were sentient now. Sentience on their part was debatable anyway.
In response to my both shouted and pointed question, the one I took for the leader raised a small beaten metal whistle to his mouth (I hesitate to use the word lips, they didn't seem to have much there) and blew it.
I knew it was a whistle due to just being able to make out the broken hearing destroying sound. Any dogs in the area would surely be going crazy right now, but I could tell it was outside human hearing range. It was nearly outside of my own, and oh how I wished it had been.
“Others come now, you no curse, yes?”
I tried to look as stern as possible. It seemed to work. Or perhaps it was Randolf behind me, idly fingering his many weapons. Karl was just as bad, and Matt was downright glaring. Only pastor Collins showed any signs of leniency at all.
“As long as they all show up and quickly, no I won't curse the lot of you. How many of there are you?”
He counted. Using his fingers, then his toes. I tried very hard not to scowl through the long process.
“Twelve.”
Well that was surprising; he actually could count past ten, and knew what the number meant. No wonder he was the leader. He also didn't hesitate, trying to make himself as small as possible, cowering before us. They all were. I sent my balls of light further out, trying to make them look menacing for the new arrivals.
Two I had spell out the words “Give up or be cursed” in common, the language we were using. I knew the dust I had them spitting would be good for something.
“Then we wait.”
I couldn't contain my curiosity any more.
“So, Norie.”
“Yes, mighty one?”
“Were you always like this? You and your pack?”
The confusion was immediate. The face he made was charming, in a child's nightmare kind of way.
“Like what mighty one?”
“Always short, furry, and... smart? Good at traps?”
“Oh, yes yes Norie always smart and furry. Norie's pack always good at traps. Is good for food.”
If the Kobolds were ever human then, they did not remember being so, or lacked the capacity for it now. But chances were that they were not. The rest of us remembered easily enough after all. But wasn't memory a function of intelligence? I was pretty sure I read that somewhere. The bottom line was, I couldn't be 100% sure.
We really didn't have to wait long. No more than 10 minutes, all told. Twice groups did not come out, but the leader, (the infamous Norie) blew the whistle again and yelled, pulling them from hiding before we even knew they were there. Waste of a species, only partly sentient, but they had sharp senses.
Each new group added to the pointless arguing amongst them, words flying too fast for me to properly decipher through their atrocious accent. His pack seemed to hold Norie responsible, and most wanted to stay hidden. Norie in turn pointed to me, and said I would have killed them all if he had not called them out. They countered that his group was the only one in direct danger, (a surprisingly clear observation from them) and he should have kept silent and died a hero.
Once the last group was walking towards us I no longer had to put up with such crap. A good stomp of my magic infused foot to the hard packed earth of the road and a nice thunderous crack sounded.
“Shut up, all of you.”
I split the light balls in half (making 12) and sent them at the little vermin. When they floated harmlessly into the now shrieking beasts, I let them dissipate, giving the appearance of the light being absorbed into them.
“You said you no curse!”
“And I didn't. That magic is to track you. You will disable your traps, all of them. Then you will leave this place, and never return. If you do not remove your traps, I will know. If you do not leave, I will know. AND I WILL KILL YOU ALL. Understood? This is the only mercy you get from me.”
“We understand, and obey.”
Some chattered directions and they split up, two groups heading off into the woods, and one back along the road we hadn't traveled yet. In order to hedge my bets, I borrowed a few crows from the trees nearby. Another simple spell had their eyes following my target groups. I hoped they wouldn't notice the tails, they had proven very observant. One last crow took a small note from me, and went to find a certain mayor.
Once the vermin were out of earshot, the expected blow up happened.
“So why are we letting these... things go, exactly.”
Wow, that was Karl's reaction. Normally he was among the least bloodthirsty of us.
“Because they might have been as human as us, not all that long ago. I really don't want to murder someone if we can fix this, or fix them.”
“But they said they weren't.”
“They may not know, anymore.”
Randy put his two cents in, backed closely by Mr. Stone of all people.
“They are dangerous, without a doubt. They kill to rob people. They target the weak directly.”
My anger rose. I tried to keep the heat from my reply.
“They can't help that, exactly! What happens if we kill them and manage to figure out what's going on? Do you really want to kill someone who hasn't done anything wrong yet?”
Matt chimed in.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you see any bodies? We'd have found any if they had any victims; after all they don't seem the burying type to me. Heck, they only rely on the traps because they can't actually fight anything straight up.”
Randy's reply had more than a little heat of his own.
“They are still dangerous, no matter what they might have been before! We have to deal with the realities of now! Letting those things kill people just because they might have been human before is stupid!'”
He was right into my face, spitting. I wouldn't back down.
“Then you go right ahead! They are right down the road, murder them all with a smile! I made a choice, and I will accept the consequences! They won't find villagers traveling alone, Shrewsberry is currently being warned, I made a choice to turn away from having my own prejudices, that were shoved into my head sideways, rule me. You do as you like.”
He looked as if he got it, but he was, if anything, more angry.
“No, you made our choice. Ours. You decided for all of us... remember that. I won't stand for that again. Anyone they kill is strictly on your head alone.”
Ugh. Pissing contest with me unarmed, so to speak. He had a point, but the world wasn't always going to wait for us to vote. I suppose we could have though, this time. Well I wasn't going to apologize to his butt-hurt self.
“Understood.”
We started off again in silence, Randolf leading the way with Thomas and Phil scouting, and Matt bringing up the rear. Karl, pastor Collins, and I were in the center.
I noticed a distinct lack of eye contact, and more than a little cold shoulder from the party at large. Or maybe it was my imagination. I certainly hoped it was. The only thing I felt from Matt were his eyes occasionally glued to my ass. I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
At least he was looking for threats behind us some of the time, and if he was so mesmerized, he wouldn't turn completely against me. At least, he shouldn't. After less than a day, I was already making new friends; only not.
Hopefully I wasn't losing any old ones.
The rest of the day was spent in an otherwise blissful stroll through nature, complete with birds chirping, the sun shining, and trees and brush rustling in the breeze. And the smells were pure and sweet. Fresh pine needles, various grasses, the occasional deer, and just about any wild flower you could hope to smell.
It was soothing, but I felt half sorry for those around me. They didn't seem to see/hear/smell the same way I did, or as much. They were missing out. Maybe Thomas could; I'd have to ask when we stopped.
Occasionally, when Phil or Thomas checked in, they would look back at me (we were maintaining a loose formation on Karl's unspoken insistence), say something to Karl or each other I couldn't quite catch, and chuckle. Every great once in awhile I heard a chuckle by them from the forest too.
Close to sunset, or at least sunset for the forest (when the sun dipped below the tree line, still some time from full sunset, but more than enough to make a forest dark) Karl halted and signaled us all to close up.
“It's time to find a place to set up camp; our two scouts are going to range on either side of the road, the rest of us are going to look a bit closer in; stay within sight of each other, and be careful. The events of the day have proven this is dangerous.”
I had to; I just had to.
“Alright, but I have something I need to ask. Phil, Thomas, what's so funny?”
They looked at each other in a perfect deadpan moment, then both burst into laughter.
“It's you.”
“It's definitely you.”
“Using balls of light farting pixie dust to try and look scary.”
“Only you would even think such a thing intimidating.”
“You're lucky the rats were so gullible.”
“You'll be in trouble if you do that against anything smart. First the bug thing, then this.”
“You're such a girl there, Sailor Moon.”
Oh. Oh! Oh, damn it. Damn it all.
“Shut. Up. Go find a camp, before you need to find flies.”
“Sure sure there, mighty one. Phil, ribbiting away.”
“Thom, ribbiting away!”
They actually jumped their way into the forest. While croaking. Un-fucking-believable. Mr. Stone and Randolf were already laughing so loudly the birds were flying off in alarm (I did not blame them). Karl was at least silent about it, and Matt was red in the face. Pastor Collins just looked pole axed. His question of “what is Sailor Moon?” did not surprise me.
Rather than answer I turned to Matt.
“What's your problem? My spell choices not funny enough for you?”
“Not at all, just imagining you with a henshin sequence.”
Urk. By all that was, that was sick. I slapped him upside the back of his head.
“Mind out of the gutter there, and focus.”
Karl, who had managed to compose himself, interrupted.
“That's my line, Lady Muse. Look for a camping spot over there if you would. Matt and I need to have a little talk with pastor Collins.”
“....Fine.”
I left. I didn't look as hard as perhaps I should have. They waited until I was out of easy earshot however.
Meanwhile they chatted and laughed. In two cases, they laughed rather loudly. Pastor Collins also went red in the face a few times too. Then Randolf caught me looking and wiggled his bushy uni-brow at me.
Philistines.
Well, there was no clearing this way, so time to go save Pastor Collins from the corrupting influences currently surrounding him.
“Alright he's a man of god, or a man of a god, quit trying to warp his head.”
Matt pulled his innocent look at me, but Karl went for the more direct challenge.
“He's holy, not dead. Right Collins?”
“Quite right; nothing in the new faith about celibacy., at least as far as I know. Matt was just explaining all about this anime I missed, and what a henshin sequence was. It's been quite educational.”
I swear I could see a small stream of blood from his nose, but with his beet red face I couldn't be entirely sure. I was too late. It'd only been about five minutes! Randolf was openly leering. I wanted to hit him, but I felt I'd hurt my hand to do so. Karl glared at him a bit and he stopped. Then he changed the subject.
“So, anything?”
“No clearings at all nearby that direction, let alone ones with handy sources of water or easily defensible locations. So, no. Not really.”
“Well I didn't think there would be. So now we wait for the scouts. Who are supposed to be smart enough to avoid trouble, and should therefore be back any minute.”
“Bad idea to say anything like that.”
“I know, but I strongly suspect they are off drinking somewhere, so I'm a bit angry. If they can hear me, they better come out.”
Delivered in a normal tone of voice, with little emotion. Karl was formidable. A slight rustle of brush and Thomas was next to us; Phil showed up a moment later, materializing next to me. Me, of all people... the jerk.
Him I could punch, so I did.
“Ouch, what was that for?”
“Scaring me. Don't do that.”
“Point taken. Karl we found a good spot.”
He pointed off to my left.
“Good, it's beginning to get a little too dark for my liking. I don't want to run into anything in the dark. Lead on.”
He did, leading us a good fifty yards or so into the wild undergrowth. The moment we left the road a form of uneasy twilight struck us. I remained sure footed, but there was much stumbling around me. A few curses here and there, too.
The clearing in question wasn't big enough to let the sun through the gloom, but it was big enough for a sizable fire pit and several tents or shelters. The pine trees closing ranks around it would keep out the worst of the wind and any rain, and the brook that was busy babbling on the other side was a convenient source of water. In fact, there already was a sizable fire pit of water eroded stones in the center of the grass free clearing, and the old fallen tree that was our way in (a break from the ring of trees) bore evidence of old ax or hatchet marks. Possibly both.
All I really cared about was that it was big enough for tents, if we wanted to. And I wanted to. Sleeping on the cold, dirty ground in no way appealed to me.
Of course I knew what sort of ridicule I'd get before hand. Farting pixie dust indeed. Nevertheless, I reached in and pulled it out while striding to the back (and incidentally the highest) patch of the clearing. Normally, it would be just me, and my sleeping bag (or in this case, bedroll). But this close to a bunch of huge men I felt the urge to have another layer between me and prying eyes. Besides, I had to use locking spells on something with a kind f door; a tent qualified, barely, while a bedroll did not.
Hey, I didn't make the rules... or even know about them before I thought of it just now.
The tent was a welcome nod away from the light and dare I say feminine cloth I had hitherto found, being a tough burlap in serrated earth tones. The pattern made a good camouflage in a temperate forest or plains setting with a little work, and the bottom had a built in heavily waxed groundcloth. The stitching on the seams were as fine as those on my clothes; the entire thing with a bag full of bright copper tent stakes, mallet, and screw together tent poles included probably weighed less than my spell book.
The real question was, where had it come from? I didn't remember packing it last night. For that matter, I had thought about it twice today, hadn't I? As if I had known it was there all along; had it been in the bag of plenty all along, and I knew somehow? If so then why hadn't the other items been in it? Was I getting way too paranoid about every little thing?
I ignored the peanut gallery, busy drinking the fresh water or just plunking down and relaxing, and started rolling the tent out.
“Hey, is that an actual tent?”
Matt strode up, cup in hand, water drizzling down his chin, and got in the way.
“Grrrrrrrrr.”
He jumped back, allowing me to roll it
“What the... did you just growl at me?”
I finished rolling the tent out, the end touching right where his feet were before, and nodded.
“Sure did.”
A few quick blows with the mallet (the head of which was covered in padded cloth to prevent the noise from traveling, apparently I wasn't the only one who was paranoid) and the stakes were driven in; the ground was nice and soft. Good farming loam, unless I missed my guess.
“Might I ask why?”
I knocked another stake in.
“Well you were standing right where the back of the tent goes. Door flap towards the fire, slight downgrade from the tree line, otherwise the area is flat and level. Perfect place for a tent. In fact, best place for a tent in the entire clearing.”
I drove the last stake in. Now this tent was a form of pup tent, so all these pieces had to make two tent poles. I started linking them up.
They were carved of course. They suffered from the same motif as the bag itself, wooden vines coated in resin, the odd flower cropping up. Each pole also had a stylized thorn hook at about two feet up( the poles were three feet all told, or I was a Dwarf).
And now that I could stretch it out, the design scheme on the tent had it's own rose and vine motif running the length of it, through the muddy multi-hued 'earth' the tent portrayed. When spread out, it had more than enough room for any three people and looked like a small flower strewn hillock, or at least it would from a distance.
Not at all out of place in a forest, but a little more... elf like than I had previously hoped. At least the copper stakes didn't burn my hands.
I went inside to place the final stake, and it promptly got worse. The inside was a second layer, this one of beige linen, with a small window in the back (also covered in linen, white). The linen had a meadow in full bloom painted on it, lightening to a pastel blue sky, and the window was the sun. Of course. I threw my bag inside and closed the flaps. No one must know.
“So um, that thing looks pretty big.”
“Indeed it does.”
I replied as I looked around idly. None of the others seemed to have tents. Karl didn't seem to care, dragging a small stump in front of the fire pit. Phil and Thomas were gathering firewood, and pastor Collins was working on lighting said fire in the fire pit. It wasn't really late in the year, or shouldn't be, and the temperature was still warm.
But a fire made us all feel safer; and a fire here would be almost impossible to spot from the road, or deeper into the woods.
Randolf clanked off with Mr. Stone, gathering firewood by excuse, telling bawdy stories by the sound and sharing liquor by the smell.
“So, um... can I share your tent?”
“Grrrrrrrrrrr.”
I won't lie to myself. Watching him jump back like that was pretty satisfying. I did manage to keep a straight face... mostly.
“Right. I'll take that as a no.”
I looked up; there were clouds, painted fiery yet muted colors, scudding their merry way across the sky. They seemed none the worse for wear for the rain burden they carried. A quick sniff of the air revealed a hint of fresh moisture.
Feh, they would live.
“No room in the tent; it's strictly a single.”
He stared, completely flabbergasted. But none must know. Besides, it was too hot to sleep clothed, and I'd be damned if I'd let any of them in to possibly sneak a peek. So I stared back, one eyebrow raised in challenge. I kept my cool even when Karl snorted laughter behind me, but almost lost it with Matt's retort.
“Chicks.”
OK, I admit to being a jerk here, but Matt is the one that joined in to mock my light creations earlier. Along with the bug thing. And he had been staring earlier, when he though I wouldn't know. I am sure of it.
But that one stung.
“don't you have something useful to do?”
Karl interrupted before things could go further downhill. He handed Matt a small wooden shovel.
“Yes he does. Matt, go dig a latrine, now.”
Matt moved off.
“Other direction Matt, not next to the stream.”
He shook his head as I face-palmed.
“Sorry Lady Muse, he was out of line there.”
“No need for any apologies, I'd be happy to share normally, but there are... complications.”
It really wouldn't do to have the people I may need to save my life feel that I don't trust them. I did. But all the same, as close a friend as Matt was, I wasn't sure he'd ever see the inside of that tent. At least not while I was in it.
And that went double for the rest of them. I'd just never live it down.
“And you Lady Muse, you get the first cooking duty.”
...excuse me?
“Excuse me?”
“Yep. Cooking duty. Phil and Thom are out hunting. Whatever they catch, they skin and bring back. Pastor Collins has fire duty. Randolf and Ethan are handling the fire wood. I have first watch, and Matt is digging the latrine. That leaves cooking duty. Tomorrow night we all switch jobs, except possibly Thom; he's our best hunter.”
So, it wasn't the whole 'woman’s work' bs. I guess I could live with that. If they started treating me as some stupid simpering yokel in homespun though, It'd be the toad treatment.
“Alright, I get it. I'll get everything set up.”
I had a sort of medieval mess kit, I remembered that one and had made sure to pack it before. It was small though; I hoped it was up to the task. Turns out I needn't have bothered. As soon as Mr. Stone spotted my little kit he ambled over, muttering.
Mr. Stone had almost a full kitchen in collapsible pots.
“I think you'll need it, lady. I heard Thom talking about the deer trail he'd found not too far from here.”
A deer? An entire deer? Heck with that, if they brought back a full deer, I'd need help. Of course one look at Karl and I knew I wouldn't be getting any; it'd be my task alone to dress and cook it. I had no idea how to cook anything like that, unless it was as venison steaks.
And of course, Google was dead. Good luck finding really cool recipes now for really strange food now. Perhaps after we solved the mystery of the ages, we could find Chef Ramsey.
Luckily enough, Thom and Phil did not bring back Bambi. Unluckily for me, they did bring back a brace of Thumper. The no longer cute cuddly things had been skinned, (mostly) bled, and dressed before being brought back to camp, so as not to attract local wildlife of the more dangerous sort. At least I had that going for me.
I decided on a stew, with some tubers and wild onions (and some garlic, salt, basil, and mushrooms from my own food stores, but no one needed to know that). It's very hard to screw up any kind of stew. Stew is almost unkillable. Nevertheless, I tried. Fortunately for all stomachs involved, I did not succeed.
At every comment of 'great stew' and 'very good' I searched for signs of mockery. It all seemed to be genuine, but I knew it wasn't as good as it could have been. After everyone was finished and busy seeing who could make the loudest belch, I retired to the stream to wash the dishes. Always part of any cooking job as far as I was concerned.
Besides, I doubted any of the others had brought soap.
Then my task being done, I nodded my good night to Karl (who was the only one paying attention) and went inside my tent. I did not want to leave matters there though, so I cast about in my mind for that which came so easily now; at least part of the time. This time it took longer than I wished.
I focused, and the door 'locked'. Another moment of focus, and I had an alarm set; anything with hostile intent coming within 50 feet of the tent would set off a loud hawk's cry. I chose a hawk specifically because it would be out of place at night, and yet hawks had been flying around earlier this very day. So someone or something with less knowledge of animal behavior might ignore it. Like a bear; bears were rather big on my mind at the moment.
I still felt better knowing that Karl was on watch. After all something might get past my spell somehow; a sentry was always preferable to just magic alone.
Preparation work done, and my two spells adding to my weariness (keeping up with tall people on the march was hard work) I shucked my clothes and hung them on one of the thorn hooks. The bag went on the other. Then I climbed into my bedroll.
The conversation was too loud.
“Did you see that?”
“Well, now I know why she insisted it was a single.”
Sigh.
“Gentlemen.”
The reply came in chorus.
“Yes, Lady Muse?”
“Shut up.”
“Yes Lady Muse.”
I swear. They had to rehearse or something.
Though I tried, sleep was a long time coming.
Some times, no matter how much sleep you have, it's just never enough. And some times you wish you could sleep more. Very rarely do those days coincide though. Today, with the pleasant rays of the sun streaming through my tent's fake one, removing the slight chill, and my very warm sleeping bag firmly ensconced around me, was one of those rare days.
Then again, with the pleasant rays of the sun streaming in, it was at least an hour past dawn; the sun wouldn't be able to penetrate the forest canopy otherwise. And that of course, meant I was likely late.
On the other hand, I was comfortable, and didn't hear any hints of movement. My spell alarms hadn't been tripped, so I was inclined to believe it was a completely innocent sort of silence. Unless of course, someone could manage to get past them without setting them off or dispelling them, and then start world war 3 without me hearing it.
Who was I to say what was and what was not possible? The world didn't make sense anymore.
So as much as I wanted to just lay back and read my new book, I decided to get up and dress. I could possibly read a little while everyone else was breaking camp if it was just a case of me being early. Turns out it was neither.
Everyone was up, breakfast was made (and mine was waiting) and everyone was looking at me as I opened the tent flap.
“...What?”
It was a wonderful morning, with fresh scents and bright colors. Of course, there had been a little bit of a drizzle some time last night, which led to a few soggy companions huddled around a fire. Also at some point last night, a brown waxed tarp had been affixed to some trees as a makeshift shelter against the rain.
Their sleeping bags and bedrolls were on a line, drying. Surely it hadn't been that bad.
I joined the group at the fire, grabbing my set aside plate. The stares continued.
“Seriously, what? I didn't sleep through some wake up call of yours, did I?”
I was pretty sure I was told last night I wouldn't get a stint at watch... though maybe I was wrong in that? Karl finally deigned to answer.
“No, they are just wondering how much you knew and when.”
A slight sinking feeling. What I knew about what? Had the distrust our Gimli reject suffered started affecting us now, after a delay?
“...What?”
“The rain, lady Muse. The rain. You set up that tent; elves don't normally use such, at least according to our resident experts. So they were wondering if you knew it was going to rain last night.”
That delivered deadpan with pointed glances at Phil and Thomas, letting me know three things; that he wasn't in on this, tempers had apparently actually flared, and who the actual experts were. The tone of voice also let me know he didn't believe a word of it, which made the next part a bit of a shame.
“Um, actually, I did. But in my defense, our woodsman did too! So you really need to talk to him. Also, I apparently do use a tent, at least most of the time. It felt like second nature after all. I'm Not sure why.”
Maybe because the sleeping under the stars thing was a bullcrap stereotype, and I didn't for it?
“She has a point, Thomas. You should have known too.”
“Meh, I smelled rain, but thought it would hold off another night. It was a light scent after all. I'm pretty good, but when its 50/50 I can get it wrong.”
I smelled a rat, is what I smelled.
“And you expect me to be better at it?”
He didn't miss a beat.
“Yes.”
Alright, time to get insulting. I opened my mouth but Matt put a finger to his lips briefly from his position behind Thomas. So I shut up and let him handle it.
“You pissed off Lady Muse yesterday something fierce. We all did. Is it a wonder she didn't mention any chance for rain? We got soggy, it was our own fault. You didn't mention it either, and that's your fault. Quit trying to shift blame onto her for your shit.”
“Alright, I get the point.”
With a sour look, Thomas reached over and started undoing the knots holding up his tarp. I approved, it was a sunny day, with no hint of rain lingering in the air. The various birds were frolicking in the sky, and my ears could catch other small critters likewise frolicking in the forest around us, used to our presence and noise by now.
In short, the makings of a wonderful day.
“Lady Muse, I don't suppose you could help us dry our things, so we could get going, could you?”
I empathized with Karl on this one. On the one hand, a large part of me was screaming silently that there was no rush; we had nowhere specific to be. On the other, the sooner we got some place, any place, we would learn more of just what happened to us and our world. I could feel that urgency in a very real 'nails on chalkboard' kind of way. So I ignored that traitorous part of myself that urged relaxation.
“Sure.”
Now, how to do this....the easiest way would be with fire. But fire would of course, burn. The next easiest would be air. But I didn't want to risk blowing things away. Any spells strong enough to dry the cloth in a hurry would either risk burning or blowing it away. Wait, water could work, and there was a stream nearby...
I really needed to stop coming up with solutions to problems that involved summoning Elementals all the time. It was the strongest spell I had, and really took a lot out of me. Hmm, maybe a variation on my magic toilet spell? That could work, and it didn't take that much out of me.
Well casting the spell didn't. Enchanting something with it did. Good thing that wasn't what I was being asked to do, or I'd have to say no in order to avoid wasting more time, most of it flat on my back.
Using a slightly more juiced version of my 'instant bum drying spell' was easy enough; even moving from bedding to bedding. Using as many uses of it as I did still didn't come close to one elemental summoning, even a small one.
The two spells seemed sort of similar, actually. The main difference being power added and a difference of degrees....
“Lady Muse.”
“Huh, what?”
Karl was next to me, and I hadn't heard him approach.
“You alright? You were staring off into space there.”
“Yeah I'm fine. Was just contemplating spellcraft.”
“So... are they done?”
I nodded and pointed to the small puddles under the bedding.
“All done. Should be completely dry and ready to pack up. And before you ask, no it didn't take all that much effort.”
“Good.”
He grabbed his own and began to roll it up. Taking that as my cue, I went back to my tent to pack my own things up. My bedroll was easy enough, and everything else I used was packed up beforehand... so in no time at all I was left with the one chore I didn't want to deal with. The packing up of my tent.
I traced a hand along it, following one of the vines sewn in. It was dry. Not a magical dryness, I was sure, just a normal one comprised of rain sliding off and the sun evaporating what was left. The poles came apart with a half twist, the copper stakes came out easily with a single pull on their ring heads.
No dirt at all stuck to them; not even a speck. The holes made closed back up as if nothing had ever been hammered in there.
The tent folded up easily, with no air bubbles and went back into it's pouch with all it's accoutrements as if it had never been out of it.
OK, this crap was getting weird; I'd never had a tent that cleaned up so easily; either the poles wanted to do their own thing, or the stakes wanted to stay in the ground forever, or the tent needed to be refolded five times before you could fit it back in it's bag. Even one of these enchantments was beyond me. But I couldn't help thinking that it had been made specifically for me.
So who had made it for me? My father, like the sword? Or someone else?
I wonder if there was some way to magic up a few of these answers, so I'd be at least a little less confused? If so, it's probably beyond my current power; cause I couldn't think of a way to do it currently. Maybe if I read more. Which would necessitate me demanding down time in which to read.
Maybe I would have to, but that felt like a drastic measure this morning. I could feel time wasting as I stood there, bag in hand. A quick glance showed much the same point of view among the rest of us; we were all already packed.
Well everyone but Ethan, who was still rolling up his bedroll with some muted curses.
“Alright Lady Muse, you got up last, so all the other jobs were taken before you. You have the last one; filling in the latrine.”
Karl handed me the small shovel with a smile. Jerk.
Sigh, Oh well. I took the thing with as much grace as I could muster and went to do it. Someone had been very... enthusiastic during the night, and with no paper, no less. I tried very hard not to breathe through my nose.
When I was done, I couldn't smell anything though. Jobs done right, that's my motto, even in bizarro world.
I made sure the shovel was properly clean then returned it. By the time I was done, all evidence of the campsite's recent use had vanished; a form of magic in itself, though one of mundane origin. While I could do it, I had to admit to myself that I couldn't do it as well as some of my companions.
And then just like that, we were back on the road, squinting in the suddenly brighter sunshine. There was no one on the road, a fact that both made me sigh with relief even as it filled me with a vague dread.
You would think someone else would have used the roads by now. I mean sure, most people would be motivated by fear not to, but we couldn't be the only intrepid types in all the land, reshaped or not... could we?
Something wasn't adding up here.
Something was telling me that we should not be the only people on this road. A road which, only four days ago, was busy. Not the busiest by any means, but seeing cards zip by every few minutes was the norm. That same road for the past few days, had had nothing on it but a few kobolds, setting traps.
They hadn't even had any victims in their traps, something I at least had looked for. Even considering the lack of time, that seemed odd.
Having nothing else to do, I sent my Raven to scout the path ahead. I had already taken the place Karl wanted me to take; right behind him. Thomas was scouting the road ahead in his own way, Phil was behind. Matt and Ethan were leading the way and setting the pace, and Randolf was behind us watching the rear.
We were still lined up like ducks or lemmings to an ambush, but we couldn't do much about that without ditching the road, something we were loath to do. For better or worse, by silent majority, we felt our best chance to get answers lay with civilization. So we stuck to the one landmark we had that we knew would lead us to it.
It was somewhat after the sun was directly overhead that we got to the next village. I compared what I saw at the other side of clearing to the mental map I had. Yep, Georgetown township, right there. Named after Washington and sporting some five thousand people a few days ago... and currently a walled community.
Which was very odd; the other small towns, ours or Shrewsberry, hadn't been walled.
“Let's wait a bit Karl, like we did for Shrewsberry.”
He nodded, picking up on the feeling we all seemed to have, and we waited just outside the forest. I could see that the road led both into the town... and a fresher, less beaten path led off to the side. Focusing, my eyes could pick up signs of decay in the wooden palisade; The logs weren't chinked well, and the ropes were sagging.
Five minutes revealed no activity on the wall or in the watchtower, and the gate was sagging open. I could see not a single hint of movement. The grass in the clearing closest to the town was a mottled brown and laying over. It did not move in the hint of a breeze we had, as the other grasses did.
I recalled my raven and sent him over the place. His general sense of the village was a lack of motion; of activity of any sort. There was nothing more he could communicate to me, my link with him wasn't good enough yet and my ability to speak his language nonexistent at the moment.
“I think whatever happened here, we missed it.”
Thomas picked up on something I hadn't thought of.
“Chances are we missed ti some time ago; there are no traces of smoke. Fires around this place would be going strong for days after they were made; even at home some of us had embers in our fireplaces, pumping out some smoke. Nothing like that here.”
Karl nodded.
“Not a smoking gun in and of itself, but highly suggestive. Alright so a vote; do we follow that,' he pointed to the newer trail leading away from Georgetown. 'or do we go in?”
I didn't even hesitate.
“We go in. There may be answers in there, especially because it looks like it does, no in spite of it.”
Matt and oddly enough, Ethan both backed me, with a chorus of “I second that.” followed by a mild glare at each other.
Thomas and Pastor Collins shrugged their lack of feeling, while Randolf and Phil were more cautious.
“I don't like the look of it. Or the smell. I say we go around.”
The way Randolf was fingering the scar road map on his face was a bit disconcerting.
“The smell, Randy? We are a bit far for any scents to reach us.”
“I'm not talking about that kind of smell, Karl.”
“I'm with Randy on this one, Karl. Something just feels wrong here.”
I nodded, letting them know I felt it too, but refuting the argument.
“That's exactly why we need to look. We're investigating, remember?”
Randolf nodded slowly.
“Yes, I understand the point. I just feel that caution is more important. We can't do anyone any good if we die to some random dinosaur or something worse, regardless of what we find.”
Phil added his thoughts.
“I'm just not a fan of dying at all, for any reason.”
Karl made a show of considering it, but we all knew his mind was already made up.
“Noted; but we also need to take risks too, and this one looks like a good one to take. We go in, standard formation and try to be quiet this time.”
We got into our standard traveling formation again, only spread out a bit more, and started in again. There was no hail or challenge, and no noise at all save for things rattling in the light breeze. The sun seemed to dim a bit more with each step towards the place, and the willies were a definite thing.
Up close the palisade was in total disrepair; the gate hadn't been destroyed by conquest but by the elements. The ropes were loose and rotted, the wood crumbling and lopsided. The path was overgrown oddly enough, with weeds long dead. The smell was of vague decay and mold.
Once past the gate, it was even more strange. The sunlight seemed not to reach all the way into the village itself, and there were dead weeds and live disgusting looking mushrooms everywhere. There was standing brackish water in puddles, stone depressions, and even holes in the wood rotting everywhere.
Not a single building looked as if it had been touched in ten years. The thatch roofs of the houses had long since rotted or fallen in, the doors were as rotted as the palisade gated and also hanging ajar, and the assembled detritus of living had seen much better days. Our own noises and footsteps seemed curiously muted in the silence, as if they were not a part of the scene in which we found ourselves.
I'd been to this town five days ago; it had been a bustling if small Midwestern backwoods metropolis.
The good news is, we saw no evidence of bodies. Any bodies, even animals.
I had a hard time thinking we'd even find insects, for some reason. I certainly didn't see any; not even mosquito larvae in the brackish water, and normally such a thing was a given.
I certainly wasn't going to drink any water from here; and food was a revolting thought. I normally liked mushrooms, but ewww. A glance showed the mushrooms were the only things alive in our sight range. My raven felt no reticence in coming down however, so I used him to fly by and see if anything was startled out of hiding.
Nothing. Just the dead grass screaming it's reedy moans in the wind.
I looked to Karl. I actually felt splitting up into two teams would be a decent idea here, as long as we didn't stray too far. We needed to do like the Scooby gang and cover ground and look for clues while not tempting old man Rivers to put on his mask. But I didn't dare suggest that; it would be summarily rejected, just because I made it.
So I waited for the proper decision with patience, poise, and grace.
“What's gotten into you? Fire ants in your pants?”
Matt was grinning, a wan thing in this atmosphere, but Karl actually looked concerned after asking that. The jerk. I was not fidgeting!
“I'm fine, thanks. No I'm not detecting anything other than what you all are. At least, I'm pretty sure I;m not.”
He gave me his patented 'pull the other one, it has bells on' look but didn't call me on the statement.
“Alright. Randolf, Thomas, Pastor Collins and I will take the right. Lady Muse, Matt, Ethan, and Phil take the left. Yell if you find anything interesting or unusual. Or at least, unusual for this place. Be careful, and meet back at the gates in an hour, whether you find anything or not.”
I knew I wouldn't have to say anything. Karl and I understood each other. I even understood this reasons for splitting the group up the way he did. He could have taken Ethan too though, I doubted his presence would even slow anything that wanted to eat me down. I also doubted he'd try.
Pretty uncharitable of me, but I couldn't help it. I wouldn't let anything eat him though; if I did, I'd never hear the end of it. My raven could spot nothing alive from the air, so I started off along the first side street leading of into our assigned search area. Matt stopped me with an iron hand.
“I go first, lady Muse. Ethan you have the rear. Phil, scout for us.”
With a whispered “got it” Phil was gone; talk about spooked. Sigh; more glass treatment. If there was anything weird going on, I was likely more able to handle it than Matt. After all, there was nothing alive visible here, which left more unpleasant options. The old gas station was in the forefront of my mind.
Matt was in fact, placing himself directly between something he likely could not fight and me. I didn't know whether to hug him or brain him. And where had the hugging thought come from, anyway? That's it, he definitely deserved a braining later, if only for making me think about hugging.
Ethan wasn't talking, which was a plus; his eyes were everywhere, and his hand was stroking his ax like he was a villain in a movie and it was his cat. It looked like a good “boo” would send him screaming back to the road.
I could be really mean here. I was half tempted to. More than half tempted.
Bur I wouldn't. A soft tone would so wonders.
“Hey, Ethan.”
He looked at me, the question in his eyes. I pointed to his ax, and his hand upon it.
“Relax. I know how the place feels. But we need to do this. Just... take a breath, OK?”
I could see it all; he started to get angry at what I was suggesting, then stopped and noticeably backed that up. He was actually taking the advice as intended.
“It's just that a place like this is a prime breeding ground for spooks.”
Well that sounded ominous; but wait, how did he know that? How did any of us know that? What was actually tripping our senses here? That last sense we had that spoke of danger; it was obvious we were all feeling that sense screaming at us, but why? How? We weren't similar anymore, at least not too similar. This felt like a clue. Perhaps a small one, but a clue nonetheless.
“How do you know?”
He lost his temper a bit, and raised his voice accordingly.
“What do you mean how? It just is! Look around you, you daft elf!”
Then the light dawned yet again, just as Matt turned around with a warning glare.
“I get it lady muse... it's the lore of my people that abandoned places like this are a haven for hungry ghosts....”
By people I was fairly certain that he didn't mean humans. I had to bring him back from the brink before he retreated mentally, so I nodded.
“Mine too; we have that much in common. Why though, that's anyone's guess.”
A pointed glance at Matt, who had heard us but whose face only betrayed confusion gave me another piece. There was no lore of his people regarding places like this, just as you'd expect from nice logical humanity. All I had was the knowledge that such lore was there; apparently Ethan felt it strongly enough to remember individual stories? I'd have to ask later, at a more appropriate time.
In the interest of being thorough, I went to one of the homes. The door was collapsed into a bundle of rotted wood to the side, which seemed a little soon for the rest of the decay of the place, as if it started decaying earlier. A look inside without breaking the plane of the doorway was therefore easy to accomplish.
That look revealed a rotting oak table and a few collapsed chairs, rusted pots and utensils, and a crumbling fireplace much like my own back home. The floor, oddly enough, was made of clay tiles that had at one point been painted. Those tiles were cracked and faded.
Even the dirt encrusted cloth doll in the corner looked rotted.
On the one hand, the door looked more dilapidated than anything else; it was almost sawdust. On the other hand, everything else was fairly uniform. Which was odd in the extreme. Given different weather conditions and exposure to the elements, I would expect the stuff in the houses to be better preserved.
That did not seem to be the case, but perhaps I was wrong? Perhaps there was something different here going on?
I did not enter the house. Call it a superstition. I also stopped Matt from entering the house I was looking in.
“No Matt.”
“Why not?”
A good question, and one I didn't really have an answer to. I did have a good deflection though.
“Remember the gas station? Let''s try not to disturb anything inside the homes, alright?”
He thought a bit.
“Got you; guess we can ignore the interiors for now. If we need to we can always check them later. If we don't we are just wasting time doing it.”
Reminded of the time I looked up. Maybe a half hour had passed already, judging from the sun. That seemed a little odd; a little off. Had we really been looking that long?
“Come on, let's hurry and complete a sweep.”
We walked quickly, attempting to take in everything. My raven caught occasional glimpses of Phil around us, or the others moving through. I didn't want him to get too close for fear my own party would get twitchy and kill him.
Unfortunately, all we saw was more of the same. It was beginning to remind me of the story of that old lost colony, Roanoke. I doubted it was the same of course, but everyone was gone, and there as no evidence as to where; nothing was out of place, there was no rubble from an attack, (like by a dinosaur) and no bodies. It was as if everyone who made the town had simply decided to get up and walk off, taking nothing with them.
And that did nothing to solve the issue of what was making us jumpier than cats high on catnip. Though it was suggestive. Maybe the feeling itself was responsible for everyone leaving? ....Right. Leaving ten years ago, when our Georgetown was populated and bustling 5 days ago.
This town did not match my Georgetown. Not only that, but it didn't match my expectations either. The why seemed very important; but there was just nothing around to tell me. Yet I couldn't shake the feeling that there was some presence here; it only got stronger the more we lingered in fact. It was for that reason I kept us out of the houses, I realized.
The town still felt occupied, somehow. By something.
And I was an idiot for not recognizing that feeling earlier.
“You know something elf, I can see it on your face.”
I came back from my musings to the accusation from the peanut gallery.
“I'll tell you later, Ethan. For now let's just focus on completing the pass. And getting out of here. Like now. We have our evidence, or at least some of it. It's time to focus on getting out.”
Matt needed no further urging for haste. And we completed our half circle around the town; according to the position of the sun, we were late by about forty-five minutes. Yet when we arrived, we could just make out the other part of our party at the other end of the street, leisurely headed our way and not waiting impatiently for us.
I gestured with my arms rather manically, but did not yell. Then we waited. For another half and hour easily, we waited for them to walk down the street to us. They did not hesitate or stop to sight see, yet it still took them that long to cross the distance.
Matt caught on before they caught up to us; I had to stop him from joining them. Maybe it wouldn't hurt anything, maybe it would.
Karl spoke first, as soon as they got in range of a normal tone of voice. His voice didn't carry far, even in the silence.
“Alright Lady Muse, what's going on?”
Thank goodness they seemed to have picked up on it too, at least something. How much remained to be seen.
“Later Karl, we need to move now. I'll explain later, once we're clear. Back the way we came, not through the town.”
With a raised eyebrow and a nod, he led the way.
I wanted to run, and I likely wasn't the only one, but his pace forced a walk out of all of us. By the end of that walk I was ready to jump out of my skin; the sun told me it was nearing six-o-clock or so. That position seemed to reverse some in the sky with each step out of the village, until we stood once again on the border of the dead grass, where the newer path around Georgetown was.
On the other side of that, the Sun seemed to be nearing the three-o-clock range. Plenty of daylight left, and possibly another mystery solved. I spoke up first to forestall the inevitable questions.
“Time and possibly space were acting differently in there. I'm all but certain of it. Why I don't know, but it didn't strike me as safe to stay, given that everything affected seemed to be aging rapidly.”
I made as good an inspection of my companions as possible, even as they got the idea themselves and looked each other over. They didn't look any older to me. Pastor Collins said a prayer and made a show of looking at us with glowy eyes.
“We haven't been affected by any sort of aging magic or curse; perhaps we need more exposure for it to affect us.”
Karl interrupted the general freak out session.
“Then let's not give it a chance to; let's assume Lady Muse is right, and get down the path and well out of here before anything happens.”
We stayed to the far side of the trail... and we didn't walk. I checked my gear as best I could, on the off chance it didn't affect people so much as non-living objects. But all my gear seemed perfectly preserved. From what I could tell the gear on everyone else seemed okay too.
I wasn't too worried about myself; elves age slower than humans, a well known fact from fantasy lore everywhere; if my human companions didn't look older, I wouldn't either. Besides I was pretty sure Randolf at the very least would speak up had I suddenly become a hag. My hands still looked unlined, and my body was firm.
“Not that I don't mind the show, but what are you doing?”
Of course Matt, being behind me, had seen everything. I took my hands from my breasts.
“Just checking same as you. I saw you checking the family jewels.”
I was still faced firmly ahead so I could only hear his grin.
“Hey got to keep an eye, and a hand, on the important things. You look fine by the way; better than fine, you vain foxy thing, you. If anything you lost a year or two.”
“You look... unaffected as well.”
The grin I was hearing turned insufferable.
Karl didn't turn around either.
“Shut up. Keep silent and let's focus on distance.”
I was rather awed by the stamina we all displayed; we kept up the not quite headlong flight for a bit over an hour. Phil and Thomas spent their time scouting ahead as fast as could reasonably be deemed safe, and the rest of us booked it.
I was gasping and wheezing with the rest by the time we did stop, but I felt I could go another hour and not drop. I didn't let on though; poor Ethan was doubled over coughing, and looked as if another step would kill him. We were very lucky nothing jumped us.
Or maybe not, we hadn't seen anything alive big enough to jump us, though the insects and squirrels were back at least.
Another check proved we all looked just as old as we had this morning, and no older. Same for our gear. Maybe, just maybe, I could relax. Of course if something was wrong, for this type of thing pastor Collins was our best bet. I wasn't sure I could do anything about freaky time warps or premature aging, but a goddess could reverse either... if pastor Collins could make her care enough.
I on the other hand, would have to peruse my book for answers or fixes on the off chance. Bah, who was I kidding, I'd be doing that the moment we had camp set up.
“Alright, we set up camp here. I want it nice and cozy before dark.”
This time there were no arguments. That feeling of strange occupation, of presence, had left me by now; I wasn't sure when I had lost it. But the area still felt haunted to me. By the looks of things, I wasn't the only one still spooked. No one else wanted to take chances either.
“Lady Muse, you have firewood duty. I want enough to last the night.”
On that Karl and I were in perfect agreement.
“Wait, I don't think Lady Muse should be off alone; I'll go with her.”
Matt's concern was touching, but easily waved off.
“Oh, don't worry about it. I'm not going out there at all. You can watch me to your heart's content.”
Karl gave me the stink eye.
“Don't worry, you'll have your firewood.”
After all, it was only the matter of concentration and focus... and perhaps too much energy for me to waste. The small mud man waited patiently for me to collect myself and give it orders.
“Bring me dead wood no larger than that man's forearm, and no smaller than finger. Continue gathering the wood for the next hour and bring it right to this spot to my left. Carefully stack the wood into a neat pile. After that you may go.”
It nodded, burbled once, then slid it's way off to do as ordered.
“And why did you do that?”
“I saw some Holly and willow that I'm going to use to weave into a few symbols that will offer us some protection from the supernatural; ghosts and other spooks, such as you might find in a town like we just left. I'd rather have that done before dark. Since I wouldn't be able to do both before dark, and since an elemental isn't likely to be attacked by a ghost, it goes out and I stay.”
He sighed, taking in Ethan's hopeful look at the mention of protective symbols. No doubt he was cursing our superstitious selves.
“Makes sense I guess. Provided that mud man can collect enough wood. Alright then, get to work on those charms.”
Rolling my eyes so he'd know exactly what I felt as I snapped off the crisp salute, I went to the nearest willow tree. I hated to tear limbs off live trees and such branches would be less effective in any case, but this next part was going to be embarrassing. So I waited until no one was watching or listening in, leaned up to the trunk, and hummed a certain song as softly as I could, convincing the tree to part with a few branches in exchange for the rapid growth of others.
A fair exchange for a tree, as it were.
Once done with the willow, it was on to collect the Holly. I turned around after crooning to it to find an audience. For once though, they did not seem interested in making wisecracks. I settled in to work, weaving the very supple limbs together in a specified manner while the other camp chores were done, weaving my own magic into each in turn as my hands worked.
Pastor Collins came by as I was working on the third one, working his own brand of magic over me. He was checking us all for various evil influences, but I couldn't spare the focus to see exactly what he was doing.
I had one for each cardinal direction by the time I felt my elemental dispel; it had made a neatly stacked mound of logs and branches almost as tall as I was in an hour; easily enough to last the night. The ground wasn't all that even but none of us wanted to go back into the woods, so the firepit and fire were started right on the trail itself.
I didn't smell any rain, which was a good thing, because between the drain from the elemental, and the charms themselves, I was pretty much flat on my back. I barely managed to hang them properly, and collapsed on my half unpacked sleeping bag. Matt was of course the first to notice.
“you OK?”
“No; help me unroll this thing?”
He helped while I took a long pull of water from my canteen. As soon as he had it spread out I flopped on it, breaking out some granola from my stores. I was pretty sure none of us wanted to test eating anything from what could be a haunted wood.
“Well pastor? What's the good word?”
“No curses, no strange illnesses or ailments, no ill effects at all from what I can tell. There was a faint echo of an echo of something, but I don't know what it was. All I know is She let me know that while it could have been very bad for us had we stayed, nothing is wrong with us now.”
Of course She meant his goddess. Whom he had asked directly... and whom had answered. Guess I really didn't need to worry about any crisis of faith issues anymore. That in an of itself was another clue. At least, I thought it was.
After all, it could mean that pastor Collins was 'going native'. Perhaps have a goddess breathing down his neck added just enough pressure for such a thing. And perhaps I was way off base, and a colossal jerk for thinking such a thing.
“So what did we learn by viewing that town, and why did we risk our lives going into it?”
Ugh. Of course Karl would ask now that we were somewhat safe. And I wouldn't be able to pass out until I answered him.
“We learned that time did not flow in the township of Georgetown at the same rate it does for us. Why, I don't know. We also learned that either the people moved away from Georgetown before this happened, or were not affected somehow. We also learned that the Georgetown we remember and the one that we just saw earlier are not the same.
Before this, we saw towns that were parallel to our own, and people we knew. Georgetown was different. Why, I can't say. I'm not willing to stay there long enough to uncover all the answers that place undoubtedly has. I'm not sure what the cost of staying would be, but I'm sure I don't want to find out.
We also learned that some of us have an actual other history jammed sideways into our heads. Ask Ethan if you want to know more. Well no rain tonight, so I'm just going to sleep. Don't mess with the charms, and wake me if WW3 starts.”
And amidst incredulous stares, I did.
I came back to the land of the living slowly, amidst half remembered nightmares involving strange spectral phrases and broken things. Almost as if those same dream creatures or whatever they were refused to let me go.
But come to I eventually did, to find Matt and Phil both watching over the camp from opposite sides. A double watch I approved of, but why didn't they wake me to take my turn? I probably could have used the break from... whatever had been in my head last night; any concrete images had vanished like wisps of fog with full wakefullness.
Upon closer inspection; both Matt and Phil both looked pale and wild-eyed. The others were tossing and turning in their sleep, and the wards I created last night were glowing ever so faintly in the pre-dawn light. Another moment and I'd have been unable to see it as the sun broke over us all,
I wouldn't have missed the heavy, heaving sighs from both our sentries however. Something was up, and I really hoped it wasn't what I thought it was. They both gave a guilty start, having been focused on the surroundings away from camp, and more than likely, on their own thoughts as well.
“So what did I miss? What has you so spooked?”
Matt answered me, Phil was busy waking up everyone else. There was no waiting in pleasant languor this morning.
“About 3 or 4 am, just as we settled into our watch; we started hearing noises. Distant, near silent, but audible to both of us clearly from across camp. That was about the time everyone started tossing and turning.”
Noises was in no way clear enough; and from the way his eyes rolled, he knew it... and was dreading my coming question.
“What kind of noises?”
Phil broke in with a laconic tone that hid his fear and relief well; not entirely of course, but well. Something had definitely happened.
“Oh just voices and sounds of the world at first; things like cars and trucks and planes. After that, it was mostly screaming.”
That didn't sound good at all.
“Screaming?”
“Long, loud, wet and throat tearing... for a solid half hour or so, multiple voices, all screaming. That and your wards glowing.”
Well what the hell?!?
“Why didn't you wake anyone up?”
Matt fielded that one.
“We actually tried. None of you would wake, not for anything. So we settled in, tried to watch for more physical threats and hoped for the best.”
Well that explains the relief at seeing the sun rise; only all too well. Made me more relieved to see every one else getting up; haunted and knowing looks between them or not. As for me, I immediately started working on my calligraphy.
The others were finished packing up by the time I had the signs ready, bright and dry with bright red painted words and borders. Each one had a warning that there was danger in the area ahead, and in the event that someone absolutely had to travel that way, to bypass the town we'd just seen. In as many languages as I could, which turned out to be six. I could only hope it was enough.
The kobolds we met two days ago, for example, might well be too stupid to read. But they had to survive somehow so maybe their instincts were better? Orcs I knew were superstitious and would take the warnings seriously. So would elves or dwarves, simply by knowing that I (an elf) wrote it.
Humans would likely ignore it, or worse, go into the town itself to prove there was nothing to fear. But I had to try. Maybe I could save the smart ones at least. Karl looked on, and I could sense the approval. In fact while I was painting those signs no one bothered me. I posted the first and started walking along the border in the woods itself. I had to cover as much ground as possible.
“Muse, wait!”
I looked back to find Matt running up. He swiped half the signs from my hands with a wink.
“Faster this way. I'll take this side.”
A sign every 20 paces meant that I had covered about as much area as a football field. Any further back into the undergrowth and no one would see the signs anyway, no matter how brightly painted. I was tempted to cast some sort of attention gathering magic on them... but I didn't know any. In my opinion, that was a rather large hole in my magical education, and one I should remedy as soon as possible.
After all, magical attention getting could be the first component to magical distraction spells, which would be an alternative to killing people indiscriminately. Something some people might go for, or even enjoy... but it wasn't me.
Thanks to Matt, we were ready to go after only a half hour. While Tom was tapping his foot, clearly anxious to be gone, and Ethan was pale and staring back in the direction of the ghost town, but Karl was patient. He didn't say a word as we came trotting back from opposite directions, just motioned everyone to fall in. Which we did.
I had a debate about taking my charms, as they cost me quite a bit in power and materials to make. But if I took so much as one, it compromised the circle. And that circle might save a life, or even several. So I left them.
The slips holding the charms wouldn't even degrade in the weather; not even the worst rainstorm. I did good work. And I carefully stomped down on my feelings of regret over leaving them. I could always make more. Well, at least one full batch more. Hopefully we would get to a town where I could restock some of my precious metals.
I had to work pretty hard to keep up; the pace being set away from the gloomy forest and towards the relatively less gloomy forest was almost a jog. Ethan was even trying to push the pace a little, by jogging himself. As for me I didn't think it necessary. The phantom sounds and images had dissipated like so much mist in the sunlight. It was safe.
Well, ghost safe, at any rate. Though come to think of it, we hadn't seen anything alive since yesterday. To be fair, we hadn't been looking all that hard, but we'd only seen birds. Birds I was not seeing or hearing so far this morning. My own raven did not count.
Nothing scrabbling about in the underbrush either. Plenty of insects though.
And then just as I was about to quote a movie where an alien comes down to Earth to hunt people in true one-liner fashion, a flock of starlings took off. A large flock, several hundred strong, and head directly away from the ghost town, as we were. My ears started to twitch with all the sudden sounds of re-awakened life.
No one else seemed to be catching on, but everyone had breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the starlings. I deemed it safe to let my raven scout. Of course no sooner did that happen than he had to dodge a hawk, going after breakfast. My raven was smart enough to dodge at least. The starlings, not so much, but that was nature, and no concern of mine.
The road widened out and signs of recent use became more frequent. Fresh cart wheels and spoor from beasts of burden, mostly. I wondered when the last time I had seen an ox was. I would certainly see one soon; that was ox crap sitting right on the road.
The forest also started to clear, but not into plains. Instead the trees faded into worked land, with wheat, corn, and beans on either side as far as the eye could see. Broken up by houses dotted amongst the fields like stars in the night sky. Each field had a fence or posts marking the boundary of it, and for the most part they were small compared to the farms I was used to. Not that I had seen the status of farming lately, I'd been too busy.
But now I could see the image brought home; without the labor saving devices of our machines (our past, I thought with a sense of irony), without tractors and intricately made metal plows and the other things we had developed, there were many more farmers needed to work a given plot of land than we had been used to for at least a century.
And if a Feudal system was back in place around here, then most of them would be starving come winter.
But I had seen no evidence of that in the last two towns; there was very much a sense of 'you earn it, it's yours' about food and goods both from the last two (inhabited) towns. but if this situation we were in was persistent, how long would that last? The older systems from earlier eras were very much the ancestors of modern day protection rackets. Not so good in the 21st century, where people's rights were respected. Not so good for dark age or early Renaissance tech and systems, when rights only belong to the strong.
I'd know when we hit the first city; which should be tomorrow given our pace. There would be no village within easy reach today, unless geography were markedly different.
With a mental shrug, I waved to those farmers throwing up hesitant waves our direction. If they were friendly to people they no longer recognized, that was a good sign. Of course, the general settled nature of the land without any form of oversight for things coming out of the woods was a little odd, but much as I wanted to break ranks and go ask about it, the look on Karl's face stopped me.
His face was taut and thoughtful. Come to think of it, the farmers stayed seemed to be staying well out of yell range... or bow shot. Wonder why that was? Matt just looked worried, when he looked back my direction. Ethan was oddest of all; as pale as he had been when back in the haunted forest. I really hoped he didn't know anything I didn't. The farmers I had seen thus far were all human, but surely that was just coincidence, right?
There had to be Elf and Dwarf farmers somewhere, right?
For that matter, there had to be Elven and Dwarven controlled lands. It was a fantasy world given. So where were they? I didn't have a clue, save for one small nagging feeling that spoke to me almost like the old movie I vaguely remembered; “Go west, young man, go west.” Except I wasn't a man anymore. What I needed to find, and hadn't really been able to before I left home, was a map.
A map, like any of the books I had owned, would have been altered to show the new world we were now a part of, right? So if so, then a map would answer many of the questions about where we were and how we got there. It might even answer a few on how this all happened.
But maps were usually more rare than books if this world followed ours in tech level and such. Only the truly wealthy of the age could afford well drawn hand made maps. But then, if a map was a map was a map, and simply changed... wouldn't we have several per person just lying around? I mean Rand McNally printed maps should be just as good now as anything else. But most of those had been stored in car glove compartments... and cars were horses now, right?
I missed seeing any horses with glove compartments, let alone maps. Argh but this was infuriating! For every thing I remembered, every idea considered, it felt as if there was a counter to it. And I bet, I just bet, that Karl already considered the map thing, and if I open my mouth I'd look like an idiot. And of course here I was, worrying myself silly over stupid thoughts I couldn't answer right now. I was doing more than looking like an idiot lately.
Pulling out my journal with the intention to sketch and make notes on my questions brought up another of the same; namely, we all still knew how to read, didn't we? Literacy was pretty much taken for granted in our society, with 98% of all of us knowing how to do it. I knew how, and in more than one language. Matt knew how. Pastor Collins had to know how, in order to read the tenets of his faith. But did we all?
Yet another question to put into the journal for another time. Hopefully a time not too distant.
The further we hiked, the more settled the land got. The less wild. And the more uneasy I felt. So I almost jumped when the men in armor appeared in the distance, still perhaps a mile away when my eyes picked them out. They were fully armed and armored, wearing long chain mail shirts with greaves, and sported spears, short-swords, and large daggers.
There were twelve of them, and they were being led by a man on horseback clad in splint mail and bearing a large curved sword. A scimitar perhaps, but it looked a bit too large to be one. It was hard to tell at this distance. They seemed to be dressed alike, as a cohesive party, but it was hard to tell. But then again...
“You all see that?”
Karl responded.
“See what?”
“The party of armed men on the road ahead of us. They look like uniformed troops.”
Seeing the hint of hope in their eyes I cursed my traitor tongue and amended my words.
“Well, troops from the dark ages or so at least. Not U.S. army or anything awesome like that.”
Seeing the fleeting hope dash itself on the rocks of reality hurt, just a little. But still I had to steer this conversation to fruitful ground.
“Well at least now we know why the farmers don't seem too worried, I think.”
“Oh?”
I nodded almost to myself, watching carefully and making sure before I replied.
“Yep, no one is making any moves to run or avoid them, so they aren't likely to be criminals. Uniform equipment marks them out as an armed force, and the greetings from the farmers ahead of us marks them as friendly.”
Or at least friendly to the farmers. I tended to doubt they were dangerous to us on principle, but these were interesting times, after all. I certainly wouldn't discount it.
“Well do we relocate and let them go by, or do we walk on?”
Matt put it nicely, but I could tell he wanted to hide. It was pointless though, and I proved it by pointing at the farmers, who had been keeping track of us the entire time; no doubt in order to stay away from us. But they knew where we were now, and unless we wanted to commit murder and flee they would be able to direct any pursuit our way.
Karl hadn't even asked; he just kept squinting forward with a frown creasing his face. I don't think his eyes were in the best shape, it was pretty obvious he couldn't see the troops and wanted to. Come to think of it. It looked like I was the first to see them, and they still weren't in range. Oops, couldn't everyone else see this far? Yet another question for the book.
At any rate, it took a good fifteen minutes of both of us marching towards each other before we met. And well before that we all got a much better look at them.
Their armor was all shiny steel chain mail without a single speck of rust. They also all wore matching helmets, full one with a face cut into them and a nose piece. I wasn't sure what they were called, but they reflected the sun as well as any mirror. They had the same burnished greaves and armguards. They were even roughly the same height (too darn tall, or about 6 feet each) and their weapons could have been stamped from a mold. Unfortunately I couldn't make out much in the way of features, as the helms prevented that.
Their leader however, didn't wear one. His bare head was open to the sun and his hair bleached blonde from it's rays. At least I assumed that was what it was from... it certainly looked like it. His face was open but creased with old cares, but his blue eyes sparkled with vitality. He could have been anywhere from 25 to 45; it was just hard to tell.
He didn't look to be suspicious of us, just riding right up on that large shaggy corn colored roan of his. His splint mail gathered more light than the chain mail though, and I was forced to squint my eyes almost shut when he got close. His sword felt as if it had power, and up close was just as big an enigma as it was from a distance.
They all wore matching emblem patches on their sleeves, a shield and crossed spears (which seemed a little generic to me). The man on the horse also wore another patch that was three simple yellow lines. So he was the officer of course, as if I needed more confirmation.
They all had less road dust on them than we did, and hid their curiosity somewhat well, though I seemed to be drawing every eye. Could they see my ears or something? My hair should be covering them....
“Well met friends! And who might you all be?”
I really should have suspected that big, bluff, hale and hearty type voice and forced tone. The smile didn't fully reach his eyes, even though his soldiers seemed to be keeping their weapons well away from us and any misunderstandings.
As I had been told to do, I let Karl do the talking. Let him screw things up with the locals, I wouldn't care. Much.
“We are travelers from the village of Solace, beyond Shrewsberry; an expedition to discover what the hell exactly is going on, basically. I am Karl, this is Phil, Tom, Ethan, pastor Collins, Randolf, Matt, and Lady Muse.”
Understanding crossed his face like the sunlight itself as he shifted in his saddle.
“Ahh, another one of those. Well you're as welcome as the rest of them, but I can't promise you'll get much in the way of answers. I'm Harry, and this is my squad of merry men. We all used to be police for Toledo, which you are not far from. I must admit to being curious, since you are the first expedition to come from this particular direction. We've had several from the North, South, and East already.”
“Well a dozen or so miles back is the town of Snead. It's... well, in a nutshell, it's haunted somehow. If anyone else made it through before us, I would be very much surprised. We only made it because of our mage here.”
He spared me a second appraising look and a courtly bow while he was still on his horse, which is quite the trick.
“Ahh yes, the famous Lady Muse, who commands the elements. You have quite the reputation my dear! I see at least some of it is well deserved.”
Was he flirting with me? It certainly sounded like it. And that was all kinds of shudder worthy. But hopefully I was misreading that. And wait a sec, how would I have a reputation of any kind past my home town? I had been to Toledo before, but no one there knew me from Adam. And he knew I had some control of the elements. Certainly sounded like he knew me.
“You know of me? How, exactly?”
His hearty grin gained an undertone of someone who knew a secret that he wouldn't share.
“Well, somehow, the people who can work true magic at a certain level are known to us all. Tell me, have you heard of Stick?”
And like a light bulb in my mind, the image went off; a stick thin old man given to wearing flowing gray robes who knew some of the secrets of conjuring and enchanting. He worked out of an old pile of bricks tower in the middle of downtown Toledo.
Of course, Toledo didn't have such a tower last time I was here, but I knew it did now, with the same certainty that I knew the sun rose in the East. Which would have been confusing I guess if it didn't anymore.
“I see your point.”
“I take it you have not had much in the way of more worldly interactions as yet; those of us in larger cities spent much of our first day thoroughly confused, as multiple associations such as that one were made one after the other. For example, Toledo does not have a mayor anymore... we have a duke. Which I will now direct you to see. So that all your questions may be answered.”
“Not going to take us personally?”
He shook his head, smile still in place.
“Not at all, just take this badge here' – he handed it to Karl after a short hesitation; I could tell he wanted to hand it to me – 'and when you make it to the gates hand the guards that and tell them Harry sent you. Chances are they would let you in anyway, but I want to make sure. The more magic users we have working on why this happened, the better, to my thinking. After all, if this isn't magic, then what is?”
Something about that last statement struck me as wrong, but I conceded the point until later. I caught Karl motioning us out of the corner of my eye. I looked over to find my group already stepping to one side of the road, so I hurried to do the same so I wouldn't look like a jerk.
“Alright, just follow the road then I take it?”
“Yes, just follow the road and show the badge at the gate. If you have no further question, we will just be on our way? We need to patrol this road and see where it leads. Orders are orders are orders, after all.”
Wait, hadn't he heard us?
“But A good 6 hours from here, you'll hit the boundaries of Snead. We weren't kidding, it's haunted somehow. We even posted signs. It's dangerous.”
“I'm sure it is, but there are towns and outpost that belong to the great kingdom of Ohier there, and our orders are to find them or find out what's become of them.”
The kingdom of Ohier; a somewhat back woods kingdom of the lands of man, stretching to the border of wild country and then... elven lands? So we were far to the East of elf lands? What did that mean for places like California and Oregon? Did other places have Elf lands, like Britain or France?
I shook my head clear as Harry looked on, amused.
“Remembering where you come from?”
“Sort of. Look, if you absolutely must go past the signs we laid out, camp at the campsite we used, the charms should protect you, and then book it using the path, not the road. And by all that's good in the world, don't stop until you hit Shrewsberry, even should you find yourselves traveling at night.”
That took the wind out of his sails. I felt gratified to finally get past his happy go lucky demeanor. And then ashamed of feeling that; I was a horrible person sometimes.
“Any other hints of advice?”
“Yes; beware of dinosaurs. We had one attack us, and it required sorcery to defeat, at least easily defeat. Came right through our town and tried to eat the residents, first day. If you see one before it sees you, hide.”
He nodded, glancing back at his men, whose visible features were beginning to look a little green.
“Anything else?”
I shook my head. I wanted to tell them about my suspicions on the roaming orcs and the zombie encounter, but I didn't think his men would be able to take it after everything else.
“Um, no, that's everything. Good luck, Harry. See you again soon.”
You never know, he might survive. Though with the lack of magic users on their side (I sensed only a few small charms and the sword, and nothing the troops wore screamed 'mage' to me) I suspected they were going to die. Though if they made it to Solace, our town would take good care of them.
And with a jaunty wave he led his now much more slowly marching band of merry men off in pursuit of adventure and destiny. Which may or may not include a fast, grisly death. Once off the road we continued our own trek.
I rapidly noticed right off that the farmers in the local vicinity were no longer steering clear of us, and when I waved more than a few of them returned it with some show of enthusiasm. I was gladdened that the farmers were paying attention and smarter than they looked. That and the fact that they trusted their own armed forces or militia or whatever they were now.
That said, it gave me hope that now when I gave the warning I needed to give, it would be respected and welcomed. It took almost no time at all to single out the one I thought I needed to find; an older man with gray hair directing a few others in the tilling of a field with old school rakes and hoes.
“Hold on guys. Need to do something really quick.”
I broke ranks and vaulted the fence separating the road from the farmland, confusing my party. At least they stopped. And they shouldn't be confused, they had seen the same things I had, for craps sake.
As soon as I had vaulted the fence all work had ceased, and the old man and his staff? Family? There did seem to be a bit of resemblance there – were watching me, tools held in not quite firm grips and not quite hostile stances. In response I kept my hands in plain sight and spoke first.
They were typical of the people I'd seen in the role recently. Lined and careworn faces along with not quite clean hair, dusty clothes and wary expressions. One of the workers was a girl no more than eight years old, who was staring at me with something more akin to awe than caution.
“Hello.”
The old man's response was terse and just shy of rude in tone.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
I had to say ti all quick and at once, or it would likely be misinterpreted. So I rushed it.
“Yes, I was hoping you would do me a favor and pass on a warning to the people around here. Almost a day's travel back west along the road is the town of Snead. It's haunted somehow. I'd strongly advise against heading that direction past the signs I posted near the road. If you could tell all your friends and neighbors, I'd really appreciate it.”
His face had opened up by the time I finished and took a breath. His family (I was sure now) had followed suit.
“We can do that. Thank you for the warning.”
“You're welcome. There is a safe path if you have business or family beyond Snead; you just have to be careful to stick to the trail and not enter the town itself. We came from Solace ourselves, and made it through in good shape. But it is something to be aware of. Good luck in your endeavors”
And the old man bowed. Literally bowed to me. The little girl was doing her best fish impression and reaching an obviously forgotten grimy hand my way. It was time to get out of here before the Twilight Zone gremlins came in.
“Thank you, Lady. Good day to you, and I'll see the word gets out.”
I wasted no time, throwing a 'thanks' over my shoulder as I ran. Not the best speed I could make, but I wanted some distance before the family started worshiping me as their new goddess or something. I could still feel their eyes on my back, and it was giving me a rash.
Of course the peanut gallery had things to say when I got back to them.
“So, what was that all about? Wanted to tell them you like their banjos? Or admire the crude tools?”
Thomas was a jerk. And classist, if that was a term.
“If you must know, I was warning them, same as I did the squad we just met. The last thing I want to have happen is some random kid or farmer go into the woods chasing a horse or something, and get eaten by the town of Snead somehow. The old guy is likely one of the respected members of the community and will spread the word.”
He snickered and I knew I was in for it.
“Oh? I just thought you were flirting with your new potential boyfriend.”
What the literal hell. Was he 12 or something? Was I traveling with children now? Phil sealed the deal:
“You certainly looked like you were flirting; 'Good luck, Harry! Come back soon so I can rustle your jimmies!'”
I didn't even know what that meant, but I knew it couldn't be anything good. I could guess at least. Every single day, it was something. I might well have to give one of them the toad treatment, just to teach them the meaning of respect. Karl shut that thought down.
“Enough you morons. Let's just go. The sooner we get going the sooner we can get our answers.”
And he started off at a pace just under a jog, forcing us to shut up and follow. Ethan clapped a hand to my back as he walked by in a comradely gesture that caused me to stumble. He didn't grin at that though. Friends in adversity, I guess. Matt was a little more gentle, but did the same thing, for the same reason. At least his wouldn't leave a bruise.
We walked in time with the creeping sun, silently. I for one, was enjoying the fresh scents of sage and wildflowers in the brisk breeze and bright light unobstructed by any trees. I didn't mind the gloom of the forest, but there was no substitute for the warmth and light. I really wanted to just lie in it and soak it up for an hour or so, but I knew that would go over well.
This area actually seemed pretty safe; at least nothing jumped out at us. The farmers didn't seem to be worried at all, going about business as usual; well as usual as their business could be without tractors or power tools.
And then just as the sun set, we came upon a break in the monotony of fields dirt and road dust. An oasis in the desert, a comforting glade in a forest, a sure sign of comforting civilization... An inn.
I didn't see an inn. I saw a hot meal that hopefully wasn't burned on one side, and a hot bath. Just a few days stewing in my own juices, even if I could keep both myself and my clothes clean with magic, was enough to swear me off camping forever. After all, it was a waste of power, and nothing beat a nice soak to clear your head.
“Do you need a moment to wax poetic or something there, princess?”
“Screw you, Phil.”
Jerk probably liked being dirty or something.
The building itself was humble but well kept, brick and stucco affair colored a light gray. It was nearly spotless, and a kid was currently washing some dirt stains off the wall facing us while grumbling; the horse that was no doubt responsible for the chore looking on innocently. That horse was one of two total, and well decked in barding and bright cloth. The other was still bearing an old cracked saddle and little else. Both had clean lines and good endurance, but the one in barding was clearly more strong than the plow horse.
And how did I know that?
The roof of the inn was thatch, but there wasn't a hint of the rotten odor one associated with old thatch, and the door was well fit to the frame, allowing little light to escape. The door opened into a well-lit lamp filled room; smoke infused, but clean. The was a sodden mat before an actual wooden floor which was somewhat clean, and the place was cheered by hangings and tapestries. Those too were somewhat less dingy than I would expect.
All in all, it was a pleasant surprise.
I had to whack the morons; only a few days, and they already forgot how to wipe their feet! I stared them all down until they did so, filing past me one by one. I followed suit and walked to the table Karl chose. It had a good view of the front door, and the door to the kitchen, and was next to the one that could only be the owner of the well-dressed horse outside.
He was middle-aged and lean, with some kind of roguish musketeer style uniform in bright reds and eye stinging whites. The broad floppy hat was off of course, and he was nursing an ale around his eloquently waxed mustache. A sword stood propped at his side... and it had seen use. His dagger, a fine yet dainty thing, was currently buried up to it's hilt in a haunch of mutton. The entire haunch. He was going to get fat, eating all that.
He watched us all go by, and I could swear he was grinning behind that mug of his when I passed.
Karl was rousting some poor dirt covered farmers out of their seats at the table. Well at least that's what I thought until I caught the glint of coinage pass hands. So he was paying them to move. That I could approve of at least. Being the conscience of a group of violence prone guys was pretty stressful. I had to be vigilant.
The two farmers left for the bar, smiles on their faces. No doubt to get beer or ale or whatever.
Randolf looked sour about it, but it wasn't his money. He would probably have bullied them out of the table though, something to watch. I was beginning to feel like a herder of cats, or a babysitter to troubled teens. Or something similar, since I didn't have experience with either. But for now Karl seemed to have things well in hand, so it was time to get to the important things. Before sitting down I had to find a waitress, or barmaid, or whatever I was supposed to call them now. I wasn't about to yell for one, as literally everyone else was doing. In a place this busy, that got noisy quickly.
“Be right back Karl.”
I waited by the door to the kitchen. And soon enough a barmaid I liked the look of strode confidently by. Long dark brown hair, and fresh face that still had some baby fat to it, and a figure that wouldn't have looked out of place in a magazine that no longer existed. She was wearing a white shirt chased with lace and cut to show as much of her cleavage as she could get away with, a pair of leather pants that she probably had to use mechanical aids to fit herself into every morning... and no bra.
She probably made tons of money in tips.
“Excuse me.”
She stopped right away, clearly busy and flustered, but polite. The mark of a true service industry professional, and I was impressed.
“Yes?”
“Do you have a bath on premises?”
She grinned.
“Of course we do! You go to that door there at the far wall. Walk right through that. It'll lead you outside. Go to the Shed on the right, and knock. A guy named Gar will answer. Don't let him frighten you, he's a pussycat. Anyway he let's you in and takes a position by the door. You go inside the inner door while he makes sure you aren't disturbed. No need to worry about him, that's his job and he takes it very seriously. Once there, it's all pretty self explanatory, and it's all self service at the moment. Once out, you pay Gar and you're done.”
Made sense that it would be self service; they seemed pretty shorthanded for the crowd. Besides I wasn't sure I'd be comfortable with another woman in a bath with me... or anyone else for that matter. I pointed back at my 'dauntless companions.'
“Alright, I'd like to rent a room, and pay for the first round for that table over there.”
“Alright I can do the round alright, but don't you want to see the room? I'm not sure I have the time....”
“No, You pick it. I trust your judgment already. Just don't hit me with a drafty one, please. I get cold easily.”
From the way her face brightened I think I just made her night. She was into the kitchen with a wave and a bounce in her step. I headed out the door indicated, noting Both Karl and Matt's eyes watching me go. I gave them a wave of my own, a subtle signal that all was well.
The yard behind the inn was a dirty mess, a large hundred feet enclosed space with free roaming chickens and a very fragrant pig pen off to the side. There was a stable parked at the other end, and I hoped it was in better condition. It shared the same whitewash stucco and was just as clean as the front. That poor kid must be running all over the place with his bucket every day.
The wall was a little warped but in good repair and about eight feet tall, and a smaller fence walled a garden off. There was a trail off into the forest. And there, right next to the stable and as far away from the pig stench as it was possible to get while still remaining in the yard, was my target. It was also coated in white. The fence did look sturdy enough in construction to at least slow a dinosaur down, and the building? Outhouse? Looked sturdy enough to hold out a siege in.
I had dinosaurs on the brain. I needed to work on that.
I knocked on the sturdy looking door, which gave a sturdy sounding echo.
“Hello, Gar?” I was told you have a bath in there?”
The door opened, and the largest humanoid bipedal thing I have ever seen to date hunched over to squint at me. He was green, and tusked, and his shoulders were so wide I half suspected that the building had been constructed around him; surely he couldn't fit those through the door? He was dressed in rough white cotton pants, had no shirt, and bore a club that I suspected weighed more than I did. To my credit I kept the flinch small. Orcs did not have the best reputation, and he was huge; large enough to give a dinosaur pause.
Yep, definitely needed to work on the dinosaur thing.
“Gar?”
He nodded with a smile that, while menacing in a way, oddly enough did put me at ease as he stepped aside and gestured me in. Once inside even though the inside was a near match to the outside in cleanliness, it was still easy to tell it was a bathroom. There were benches with holes cut in intervals lining the room, and I could just make out the sound of running water underneath us through them. There were also buckets placed periodically around the room, with rags in them. I really hoped they didn't re-use those.
I sure as hell wasn't going to use those. That little spell I knew that cleaned me was looking more and more like the greatest thing since sliced bread. The smell could have been worse, though I suppose it could have been better as well. Gar motioned me towards the door in back and spoke, a voice like two rocks grinding into each other.
“The cost is two copper, paid when you get out. Since you're alone you know it's serve yourself?”
I nodded.
“Alright. There is a skylight in the chamber, but no windows. If you scream, I'll come running and hammer whatever frightened you into the dirt; though... if you scream because of a spider, please don't yell at me if I bust the door down. I'll not take that well.”
“I won't scream because of a spider.”
It was true, I had no issue with spiders. Corpse bugs were a different creature entirely.
“The small lock will keep most out, the bigger lock is to keep me out, in case you're worried about me. I won't barge in on you unless you scream, but some people like the extra security.”
His look said it all; he knew some people were wary of him because he was an Orc, and was not only used to it, but well past blaming anyone over it.
The next room had a door even more ponderous and sturdy than the outside door was. The small lock was a bolt lock as big as my middle finger that you engaged with your foot and went in the floor. The big lock was a wooden bar the size of my arm that was cradled by slots and slid into place. It looked like it could take a day's worth of pounding with a battering ram to get through it. I slid the smaller lock in place, but left the bigger one.
I wanted to trust.
The room itself had no less than 4 tubs, oblong hollowed out tree trunks... or possibly the same trunk, with tables next to each. There was a rack of clean towels, and a basket hamper for the dirty ones under it. The tables each held soap; the color suggested pine tar. At the far corner there was a trough, buckets floating in it. There was steam rising from it too. The floor was stone, and constructed at a slant so as to drain the water towards the back, where a grated drain sat. The floor itself was dry, indicating how much this room had been used today. The walls were painted a nice muted yellow, matching the light.
I checked the skylight before starting to disrobe. It was clear of lurkers... and clean, which was a nice touch. Someone should tip that poor kid. I wasted no time at all, then realized I probably should have dipped the water into the tub first. Oh well, no one was watching, so no one would know.
As tempted as I was, I didn't cheat. Moving the water one bucket at a time would save energy, and I saw no reason to waste it. The only thing I wouldn't compromise was setting my clothes to clean themselves, cloak included. I wasn't packing them away dirty. It only took about fifteen minutes of bailing to fill the tub with piping hot water. The table next to the water trough had a number of oils to make the water smell better (and by proxy, the person in the water) and I chose one made from cactus and melon. I pointed my eyes to the skylight and the sliver of sun.
And then I soaked.
Drifting along, I soaked in the water so long that I pruned, and there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Yes? Does someone need let in?”
“No Ma'am, I was simply checking to make sure you were alright. You've been in there some time.”
I blinked. Come to think of it, it had probably been about an hour.
“Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry you, I was just soaking, and kind of zoned out. I'm on my way out.”
His voice came through again, slightly panicked.
“No! No, ma'am, you don't have to get out on my account. I just wanted to make sure everything was alright.”
“Don't worry Gar, you didn't disturb me or chase me out. I should just get out before my friends start looking for me.”
I got out and dried off with a towel that was so clean it glowed in the dying light. Taking my spare outfit out of my pack I threw it on. There was no mirror so I couldn't really check the results, but I brushed my hair anyway, mainly to help it dry. Putting my towel in the basket, put everything I used in its place. Then I put my boots on, shouldered my pack, shot the bolt and opened the door.
Gar, at his place by the other door, stared at me with his mouth open. What? Had I forgotten something? I took inventory; nope, all there. I was properly dressed. He closed it soon enough when I brought up a concern.
“Um, I wasn't sure how to empty the tub. I didn't want to try it by bucket, and....”
“Oh! It's no problem ma'am. I handle that job. Was everything to your liking?”
“Yes it was, thank you. So how much do I owe you?”
“Three copper.”
I handed him five. So odd that copper was now a viable medium of exchange again; I mean pennies looked like copper, but they weren't. And the nice pleasant experience was worth the copper. So I handed him five as I thanked him.
“Thank you for the nice bath.”
He actually blushed and stammered.
“Th-thank you ma'am.”
As soon as the door closed behind me I skipped a bit; I couldn't resist. The inn was just as loud as it was an hour ago, and even darker. Coming fresh from outside the pungent smoke odor of the tar soaked torches was even stronger.
The table was still full of my companions. There was also an earthenware pitcher of beer, and plenty of plates with bits and debris of some form of dinner no doubt. There was also a plate of some sort of bird; a grouse? And peas. Placed in front of an empty spot on a bench, complete with Phil staring longingly at it.
I settled right in with a smile. Matt started off the questioning.
“So where were you? You took quite a while. We've already been through dinner and a pitcher; we had to order for you.”
“Was taking a bath. I highly recommend the facilities for current company, by the way.”
“You saying I stink?”
“You saying you don't?”
“....Well played.”
Phil had to join in. It was clear they were all at least two sheets to the wind already. A bit odd, was it really beer in that pitcher?
“But don't you use that spell of yours to clean up every day?”
I nodded.
“Of course, but a good soak is a good soak. Haven't any of you ever wanted to just soak in a tub?”
They looked at each other, silent. Traitors. I knew they were holding out on me. Then Randolf, surprisingly, bailed me out.
“Sure. Especially after a game or a twelve hour shift. Eases the muscles.”
He took a drink, daring the others to contradict him. For my part I tried dinner; it was good. Almost five star good, considering the locale and background issues. The gourmet restaurant business must be suffering like no other under the current problems; it had to be hard to make great dishes out of monster guts.
The waitress was back and by my elbow before I noticed her, placing a large iron key and a silver goblet of wine on the table in front of me.
“Hey! Just heard from Gar you were back in, sorry about the dinner being cold. Your room is number four on the third floor. The wine is the best we have, let me know if you want something else instead, OK?”
And like a tornado she was gone again, with only the impression of a verbal smile lingering in the air. Just watching her made me tired, not that I saw where she had gone.
“Well, the good stuff. Somehow you rate the good stuff. Makes me wonder....”
I knew what he was wondering, and he could stew. Karl rescued him from my no doubt visible wrath.
“No, just something I ordered for Muse. She isn't getting comped, though the bit about the room was interesting.”
“I simply asked her to pick a room for me that wasn't too drafty. She should know what the bad rooms are, and I didn't want to get cold.”
“Makes sense to me. Kind of regretting I didn't do that while I had the chance.”
Weird, support from the dwarf.
“Thank you Ethan, but why can't you do it now?”
He burped before burying his face in his cup. Then he replied.
“Because I'm a bit too drunk to walk, darlin'.”
I rolled by eyes, taking in the soot stained ceiling. Oh well, guess that kid couldn't get everything.
“Did you all at least remember to get rooms?”
Nods all around. Good; I didn't want to share.
“Yep, we filled the place up; they could only stuff us in two at a time. Kind of jealous you get one to yourself.”
I knew how to fix that. I pasted on a nice serene face with a bland smile and attacked.
“Well I can always help you with that. All I'd have to do is make you female.”
Matt coughed as his beer went down the wrong pipe.
“Um, no, thanks, that won't be necessary.”
Success! Just that simple. Ethan was on to me though.
“You don't know how to do that, do you lass?”
I felt I had to answer truthfully.
“Nope. Not even a little. I can't do transformational magics.”
I did hope to learn though. I might be able to fix my own condition if I did, though I suspected it wouldn't be that simple. I hated that feeling, but couldn't quite deny it. The others didn't even seem to be entertaining the idea of going back to normal. Making the world go back to normal, yes, but not themselves. Not even the dwarf, though in his case I wasn't sure.
The wine was barely passable, from an obviously local vintage. But barely passable was passable, and it set off the meal perfectly. Now I needed a wet nap or something. Just as I was beginning to despair, the waitress came by again, this time with a damp but clean hot towel and another goblet of wine.
“Here you go! Can I time things or what?”
“You can, thanks.”
I wiped down and she took it and was gone again. I was very happy I didn't have to deal with a brindle dog or something similar. Rubbing greasy hands on a flea infested mongrel was shudder worthy. The others were staring at me.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just good service here, you better tip the waitress.”
“I intend to, why wouldn't I?”
Randolf goggled at me, then smirked.
“No reason. Screw all this, we aren't drunk enough.”
Even pastor Collins was drinking, though his pace more closely matched my own. We were all going to be senseless by the end of the night though, by the looks of things. The wine was potent after all; I resolved to slow down. Drinking something other than water was nice though. I'd probably gladly murder a few people for a Coke.
Ethan Matt and Randolf were talking sports, something I never cared for. Karl was staring into his cup like it contained all the answers to life's questions, and pastor Collins was muttering prayers under his breath from the sounds of things by the time I finished my second cup. My ears were starting to heat up.
It was time to go do something. And unfortunately, that something involved going back out to the bath shed again. So I stood back up, just as Matt Karl and Phil did.
“Where are you going?”
“The can. Where are you going?”
“The same. “
Stupid biology. I was closer to the door, but they were more reckless, so we all made it outside together. Which of course meant that I would be waiting, since I wasn't about to risk them getting a peek... or peek myself. It took them less than three minutes while I watched the trees move in the breeze. Looked like the weather was going to turn foul again.
Then it was my turn, and Gar was at the door.
“Hello again ma'am. In the far right corner there is a screen, and a specially made seat. Next to those is a bucket and rags should you need to clean yourself. The rags are clean, I laundered them myself. The idea is to throw the rags down the hole too. I'm not supposed to leave, but I'll be right here but facing the door if you need anything.”
And out he went. I checked the walls... like the bath room itself, there were no convenient holes anywhere, and the screen was dark and covered everything. I pulled it across. The bucket full of rags was clean, they looked like the remains of old sheets or something, cut into strips.
I trusted Gar on maters of cleanliness after my earlier brush, but I still thanked my lucky stars that I didn't need them. The seat however, I did need, and it was clean too. It was made of oak, fit directly over the hole, and smelled of bleach, somehow. Evidently they had access to bleach still. Once finished I used my best spell, and made sure to hit the seat and surroundings with it too. Gar wouldn't have extra work on my account.
A quick retraction of the screen showed Gar right where I'd left him.
“So what do I owe you this time?”
He grinned.
“Nothing at all, only the baths are charged. Enjoy your stay Ma'am.”
I waved and stepped outside, to find Matt Karl and Phil, enjoying the moonlight and swaying of the trees. Should I be breathing fire their direction, or touched? I settled for neither, even though I was sorely tempted.
“Pretty decent facilities.”
Phil nodded with some obvious relief.
“Yep! Better than what I have at home. Stupid outhouse.”
I could sympathize. We made it back in with the gentlemen leading the way, but I collected my key and went on to the stairs while they sat back down before the beer.
“I'm going to go study. You all should probably slow down. Hangovers will really suck tomorrow.”
Karl stepped in.
“Agreed. This is the last pitcher guys' we need to be sharp tomorrow.”
There were groans that Gar could probably hear. They were like children or something. The common room was still crowded, with waitresses flitting around like large dragonflies. So it took me a bit longer to navigate than I wanted. The stairs were narrow and high, but at least they didn't need a banister. I ignored the second floor and started up the next claustrophobia inducing flight.
At the third floor there were three rooms. I was in the last, the rather sturdy door directly across from the landing. The key opened the lock and I went in to discover a space a bit smaller than a modern hotel room, with a small scarred desk set next to the only and currently shuttered window and a rather large bed that looked a bit lumpy.
It felt a bit lumpy too, under the gray checkered comforter, but it felt soft and appeared free of any creepy crawlies. I used the spell to repel insect life anyway, and watched the result carefully; nothing. Very good.
The door also sported a small metal bar like the one in the bathroom as well as the standard lock, which was perfect. I closed the door and shot it, and only after realized I'd forgotten to light the lamp first. Stupid dark seeing eyes. I lit the lamp with another small application of magic because id of course forgotten to bring a candle or ember with me. I was burning through magic to do the mundane again, and it was annoying. I really had to get a handle on that.
I plunked down on the bed and opened my pack, grabbing my spell book. I needed to know much more about how this crazy stuff worked if I was to use it. I doubted I could use it to fix the problem we were sent to investigate since it was likely the cause, but I wouldn't discount it either. And anything that could be used to help save lives was a good thing.
Besides, how could I sleep with all that racket going on downstairs?
Well somehow I managed it. Because the next thing I knew I woke to a hand reaching past my drooling face to snag the spell book I was resting on. How the hell had someone gotten into my locked room?
I turned quickly, adrenalin spiking me awake and hand going for my dagger. The cloaked individual moved even faster than I, avoiding the slash I'd aimed in haste. Through the dim light of the dying lamp I could easily read the surprise. There was nothing in the individuals hands, but obviously they were a thief.
As I watched they turned to smoke, and filtered out the slots in the window. I opened it shortly after, spell of fire already formed in my mind, but the fog or mist was gone.
Well that was new.
Checking my belongings revealed nothing missing, not even my coin purse. A small spell would prevent any further incursions from the window. Only then did I allow my heart to slow. That hadn't felt like an attack on myself; it would have been easy to just stab me while I was asleep. It would have been just as easy to slash my coin purse and leave. My instinct was telling me whoever that was, had been after my book specifically.
Which made no sense at all, since only I could use the darn thing.
The real question was; should I tell the others? A quick glance revealed how late it was. I could tell by the light from the window slits that the moon was facing it; which meant it was close to setting. And the lamp, which had enough oil for several hours, was almost out. I didn't want to wake everyone else up, only to have them sit on me while I slept.
Then again, they might be targets themselves.
Then again, if the thief had already hit them, it was too late to worry about it. None of them had spell books, however. Well maybe pastor Collins did for some of the things his goddess asked of him, but I didn't think so. I was fairly sure the thief wouldn't be back tonight, for fear that I had the rabble roused against them.
Sigh.
I opened my door. The party down below was in full swing. I headed down the stairs; I didn't know which rooms my companions had, so I'd have to ask. Luckily enough no one was coming up said stairs, or it would have been a tight squeeze.
Just before the first floor landing I paused; the view laid out the entire common room. There were still old salts and farmers chatting merrily away at this hour. And there, right where I left them... were my companions. All of them still drinking merrily away, even Karl. And they were very loud, if not especially coherent. I think I heard three different stories at once, and all of them just as improbable. I'd have to remember the one about the bar room dancer the next time Randolf gave me crap. Even pastor Collins was still there, listening intently with his face beet red!
I turned around and marched back up without a word. It was 3 am, or thereabouts, and whatever the thief did to them was well deserved, as long as death wasn't involved. After all, death was too good for them at this point.
The morning dawned bright and clear. Birds were singing, insects chirping or buzzing, and I could almost hear the flowers opening up in response to the warming sun. I certainly wanted to. I opened the window, noting that the alarms I'd placed last night were still intact. Good.
The fresh morning breeze was sweetly scented with the aroma of flowers and pollen. It smelled like revenge. I dressed in my clean clothes as opposed to cleaning what I wore yesterday, and crept as silently as possible down the stairs to the common room. Which was apparently pretty darn silent; I couldn't hear me. Though that might have more to do with the humming barmaid, already up and sweeping broken crockery and assembled crap from the floor. She was even being thorough, lifting up and moving chairs and leaning down to get under tables.
There were no other people, slumped over a table or otherwise. So they had gotten upstairs to their rooms after all. Maybe they hadn't been as drunk? Oh well, time to startle the unsuspecting!
“Good morning.”
She jumped in a most satisfying way, then flushed and favored me with a broad grin.
“You got me good! Good morning. Would you like some breakfast? The right part of the common room is clean.”
“I would, yes. What do you have?”
“Well we have a choice of pancakes or ham and eggs, with bread. Though I suppose you could ask for a mix; you'd have to speak to the cook or something about that, I just work here.”
Were all the barmaids here cut from the same cloth? Perky, chipper and upbeat? Where did they find them? Even three or four was an awful lot of upbeat people. Maybe there was something in the water? Why was I always suspecting the water? It could be something else. It could even be that the change in the world itself was doing this somehow; there had been weirder clues to weird happenings in life.
“Just the pancakes are fine. Some syrup if you have it, a slice of bread, and some tea if you have that?”
“Sure do! Pancakes and maple syrup, coming right up. I have to continue cleaning, but I'll tell the cook and someone else will bring it out, OK?”
“Sure, that's fine.”
I found a seat while she ran off. She came back before I could get settled in, and picked up a rag to wash tables. She did good work, the side of the common room I was in gleamed. I could see my outline in the table wax, and while I wasn't sure I could eat off the floor, I could definitely walk barefoot on it without fear.
My new found friend from last night I didn't remember the name to; with some shame I realized I hadn't asked.
“Hey! Good morning, here you go. Sleep well?”
“Thank you. I did for the most part. I have something to tell you if you have a minute.”
She looked back at the kitchen.
“Just dishes, they can wait a few. What's up?”
“Um, first off, what's your name? I forgot to ask, and it's been bugging me.”
She laughed.
“Whoops, my bad. I forgot to introduce myself yesterday. I'm Caitlyn. So, what do you need?”
“Hi, I'm Muse.”
I took a bite, trying to think of how to play this. The pancake was good. IHOP worthy, or better. Best to play it straight I suppose, even if it started a very public search or worse, a panic. After all, having someone break into your supposedly secure place with ease using magic and up to no good... well I didn't feel good about it, and I could counter it.
“Well last night I was sleeping, and someone managed to enter my room using magic and try to steal from me. They didn't manage to, but it was a close thing. I was wondering if you had heard anything about prior incidents.”
I wasn't willing to call it an inside job just yet, but chances were the barmaids here might know the perpetrator; he was almost certainly a local; we had no cars anymore after all. No mass transit meant most people around here lived here.
“Oh no! Did they get anything? What were they after? Did you get a look at them? Maybe we can track them down or something. Get the guard involved, or something.”
Well, her reaction was a reassurance; I didn't think she could pull off innocent and perky and fool me, and she seemed pretty sincere about not knowing anything. I held my hands up; she was beginning to raise her voice and get a good head of steam; her coworker had paused in her broom-work to give a curious glance.
“No, they didn't get anything. They were after my spell book, oddly enough. I got a look, and I'm fairly sure it was a him, but he wore a mask so I can't identify him. However he used a spell to turn himself into a fog to get out of my room, and likely that's how he got in. Sound like anyone you know?”
She slowly shook her head.
“Sorry, I don't know anyone who can throw spells. Well, other than you. I can ask around, maybe one of the other girls has heard something. We have to try and get this creep off the streets! I'll go get the guard!”
I managed to stop her in time, I almost wasn't fast enough to snag her arm.
“Quietly, Caitlyn. Quietly. We don't want to call too much attention to this and scare the perpetrator away.”
Even if chances were he was long gone by now.
“Oh, right. Low key.”
She dashed off to the kitchen, leaving me to ponder. Keys would probably be a good start to fix the problem for this inn in the future; it wouldn't be that much different for what I had for my own home. But could I do it for an inn? I wasn't sure, the traffic would be immense. I'd have to modify the spell, and I really wasn't sure in what way.
I'd have to think on it. But while I was thinking, I could be eating and drinking tea. I have to give the other barmaid present her due; she actually did finish her job before rushing into the kitchen to see what was going on. She didn't stop to ask me either, which might be a point against her; I was approachable! Even nice! Maybe she was under orders not to bug guests? Whatever. I knew my little bit of excitement would be all over town by noon; between all the people currently learning the news, there had to be at least one incurable gossip. I just hoped that the guard would hear first.
I wish I'd managed to get a hold of a scrap of cloth, or mark the intruder. I could trace him myself in that case, then ask him what the heck he thought he was doing. It wasn't like he could actually use my spell book; it had it's own lock, keyed to me. And it was in old elvish, a nearly dead language. I didn't know how I knew that, but I did.
There were spells that could force the lock of course, and spells to allow one to read any language, so maybe it wasn't as secure as I first thought. But the thief would have to know those spells, and I didn't even know what spells I knew for sure until I needed them. So why go to all the effort and take the chance? Hopefully I'd get the chance to ask.
But for now, I had the more fun task of my morning to complete. And I really was an idiot; I forgot to ask Caitlyn some crucial questions. So I had to go to the kitchen first. I managed to catch Caitlyn in mid story, regaling the kitchen staff with my daring fight against the midnight intruder. I was pretty good in a fight, to hear someone who never saw me fight tell it.
“Excuse me, Caitlyn?”
She had the good grace to look embarrassed, but I wasn't here to call her out so I didn't.
“Could you tell me the room numbers my friends are staying in? I need to wake them up.”
“Oh, sure. Though they probably won't be ready to travel. Even Gar had trouble carrying them up last night.”
….perfect.
“And when was that?”
“Oh about 4 am, maybe a bit later.”
And they had had their gear downstairs with them until then. Maybe I was worrying over nothing. I hoped I was. Guilt sucked, I should have told them about the break in earlier. Caitlyn rattled the numbers off; rooms 2, 3, and 4 on the second floor. They were sleeping two to a room, apparently in order to save money. They had apparently drunk up quite the tab last night. This was also perfect. I crept back upstairs, silent as a mouse. After all, I didn't want to wake anyone else up. Just my targets.
So how was I going to do that? The inn was full, and pounding on the door would disturb the other guests. Yelling would most definitely disturb the other guests. But I didn't want to just leave this one alone and wait a year for them to get up. I wanted to see what happened to the nearest actual city. Oh, I could have simply asked travelers last night, but I wanted to see it with fresh eyes.
Polite knocking got me nowhere, except in room four. I could hear Ethan grumbling about the noise, but I didn't hear him get up, so he probably just rolled over. Famed Dwarven constitution for you. With a shrug I headed back downstairs. And the guard captain from yesterday was just walking in, shaking the road dust off his cloak.
“Good morning, Captain.”
“Good morning lady Muse. Glad to see you here, I was hoping to discuss the situation at Georgetown with you.”
“Well we can try, Though I'm not sure what help I can be. We can also discuss a small event that happened last night since you're here. After all, you're responsible for crimes along your patrol route, aren't you?”
He nodded warily.
“Then since you're here, I'd like to report a thief on the loose. A person broke into my room last night and tried to steal my spellbook. They used magic in the attempt, a spell to turn one's self into fog or mist, and wore a mask and dark clothes. Gray to be precise, and under that a male. I really can't offer you anything else except when I woke and confronted them, they ran instead of simply trying to kill me and take it; so it is unlikely they are a murderer.”
He sighed as we sat down. He seemed tired. One of the barmaids, a pleasant looking blonde, came out and handed him some wine. He quaffed a good dose of it before answering.
“I'll see what I can do, though I hope you don't expect much. There is no DNA analysis, and though we could do fingerprints, we have nothing to compare it to anymore. Without a good description we are left hoping to catch such criminals in the act. Spells and books of spells are important; some people are looking to magic for the answer to why the world changed.”
“Not surprising; I also think magic might hold the answer, or the tools for getting it. I just didn't expect someone trying to steal it. I don't think it would do them much good in any event, it's written in a dead language.”
His return look was cryptic, to say the least.
“Some people like to work fast, and cover all the angles. Were I you, I wouldn't trust many. Your companions perhaps... and me, of course. One minute.”
He levered himself up and went to the door, calling someone named Grim over. Grim turned out to be his sergeant or second in command, and whispers were exchanged along with loaded glances shot ym way. My ears were very good however, and I knew he was simply filling the man in and telling him to make quiet inquiries. I sipped and waited; I had nothing else to do really. I wanted to be reading my book, but that was rude. He came back and downed the rest of his wine, gesturing for a refill. Apparently someone was watching, because one of the other barmaids was at our table so fast she might have used magic, blushing and refilling the Captain's cup. She gave me one and filled it. I took it even though it was a bit early for me to be drinking.
“Alright, your turn. My men and I went down the road, found the trail, and eventually your campsite. It was late in the day, and I left one squad there, and took another with me into the outskirts of Georgetown. I'm not sure how you made it into the town itself, but we didn't venture that close. It was obvious something was wrong with the place.”
I didn't blame them their possible cowardice. I certainly wouldn't want to go back there, even though I knew I'd have to at least head back that way in order to get home. Maybe I could take the really long way around... as if that likely wouldn't prove to be more dangerous. The Captain's trip down recently made memory lane was cause him no small amount of stress; he looked gray.
“We started back, but night fell before we could reach the campsite. Lady Muse, what came out of those woods... well they were ghosts. Just having them get close sucked the heat from your bones, and the WAILING; that gods-awful wailing. Well, we didn't stay; your wards stopped them, but we decided we really didn't want to be there; to listen to... that. So we packed up and marched, and here we are.”
They hard marched all night, probably without rest. Their experience had to have been much worse than ours. After all, some of us had been able to sleep through the noise. Or was that the truth? Might be more to it, but I was no expert on spooks.
“Everyone made it out alright though, right?”
He nodded and grabbed my hands in his.
“All thanks to your wards, and on behalf of my men, I thank you.”
I reclaimed my hands. He was too busy looking deeply into my eyes to notice, or if he did, he did not take offense.
“No problem, think nothing of it. Do you of the guard have a mage handy? One on the payroll?”
He nodded.
“We do. And I'm way ahead of you. I will request those more of those wards from him, or whatever similar ward he can make. Everyone in the area is currently being warned about the town as we speak; I sent our fastest runners with the news.”
I could find no flaw in that.
“Good. Sorry about the harrowing experience.”
He grinned, seemingly recovered.
“All part of the hazards of a cop's life.”
An opening to change the subject if ever I heard one.
“Oh? You were a cop before?”
“Nope, I was military. But I was taking military police training, and was going to become a cop after I got out. Now I'm drafted all over again, and Ohio is part of a kingdom.”
Ohio was part of a kingdom? Now that I heard it said, that gem fit in my head, much in the way magic did. Ohio wasn't really Ohio any more, but was a duchy. The duchy of Orrus? Named after the family. Though why they ruled I didn't know. Maybe I would eventually; and that prospect only mildly scared the crap out of me. Just having information randomly appear in my head was never something I wanted to get used to.
“So now you do the state cop thing, sort of.”
“Yep.”
As a guard member he would work directly for the king, or emperor, or whatever was around. He would know, but I didn't feel like asking. Maybe I should, for the information and mystery solving, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. Time to take both our minds off things with another handy subject change.
“So where do you need to report to now? What new area do you need to patrol?”
He grinned.
“About that. I don't. It's time for my squad to report in, and part of that is heading to the city. And I'm glad you stayed here last night. I'd like to offer to escort your team to the city. I'd hate for something to happen to you in my patrol area, and that thief may try again. You might be the one to solve this mess, and get reality back to, well, reality.”
He was smooth. I'm betting he really wanted to escort us to make sure we didn't cause trouble. But maybe I was just being paranoid. Then again, I doubted that we were the only ones running around and doing this. And it might look really bad for the Captain to have casualties or thefts in his patrol area. Then again, I was pretty surprised that the places we had been weren't all rioting; there was something to be said for societal inertia after all.
Or did any of that judgmental crap even apply yet? It might apply to us all if we were actually part of a medieval era world or whatever era it was ripped from, but surely even without the trappings of our modern society, we were more enlightened than that? I could hope, right?
My gut spawned butterflies. I really hoped my cynicism was misplaced. Time would of course, tell. Karl was going to be pissed at me, but he was just as drunk as the rest. Together collectively they would be unable to beat the group of kobolds we encountered before.
“We'd be delighted of course, Captain. It may be some time before my companions wake however, so you have time to rest up and get some food in you. This inn is first rate, just as you said yesterday.”
“A good plan. The inn has a check out time of noon; I'll meet you all outside then, or shortly after?”
“Sure. See you then. Where are you headed now?”
It didn't seem like sleep was something the good Captain would be getting any time soon.
“There aren't any rooms. So I think I'll pick a spot where my men are, out in the shade, and sleep until it's time to go. Well that or until the locals ask my help. They should be able to handle the search for your thief until the next patrol comes along, and in all honesty I'm too tired to think straight. See you soon.”
I waved as he made his way out the door. The sun was nice and bright; I wanted to be out there myself. Weren't the locals around here the innkeeper, his staff, and the local farmers? Would they have anyone around who could handle an investigation for a thief? On the other hand, they would know who the magic users were; after all, my own townspeople had known at a glance.
The real question is, should I investigate myself while I had the time. Would these people even talk to an outsider? They seemed pretty close minded yesterday. It would be best to harness another approach. But which approach? The human nature one or the magic one? I decided on the human route, which took me back to the kitchen.
“Excuse me.”
The cook was a small man, dressed in an almost immaculately clean white tunic and pants. The apron he wore over them was mostly spotless too; I only saw a few flour stains. He was not a handsome man, his face was far to hatchet-like for that, and he seemed to hold an aura of command that brooked no nonsense. There wasn't anyone else present.
“Yes, may I help you?”
He was as least polite to guests. Another plus.
“Yes, could I speak to you in private for a moment?”
He wiped his hands on the apron and came forward.
“Come in; none will disturb us here for the moment. What do you need? Was there a problem with the breakfast?”
Another point in his favor. I was quick to assure him no.
“No, nothing like that. I'd just like you to do a favor for me. You know about the incident this morning, I'm guessing?”
He shifted from solicitous to wary. I took that as a yes.
“What can I do for you?”
I couldn't resist the grin that came to my face; It seemed I was 100% right in the gossipy nature of the staff.
“Well, when your help comes back from their rounds, I'd appreciate it if any juicy tidbits they uncover regarding the identity of the would be thief were relayed to me. I'd really like to get a few leads, but I'm unsure the people around here will talk to me much.”
He conceded the point without actually conceding the point.
“I can do that. Is there anything else you need?”
As close to a dismissal as he could get politely; I heard it loud and clear.
“Another pot of that tea would be excellent, thank you.”
“I'll bring one out.”
I didn't know why he was in such a hurry to get rid of me; he ran a nice clean kitchen. No chance I'd complain, at least on that score. I sat back down and opening my pack; Since I kept my book, and no one was here to annoy me, might as well read it.
Five minutes later I barely noticed the tea the cook brought out himself; it was tasty, but so was the discourse on elementals, as animate essences of an idea. Like a fire elemental wasn't just fire; it was representative of fire itself. And there was more than one. Countless numbers, somehow. Another concept that they represented; that of numbers beyond counting, though they were hardly the only creature (or was it concept) to reinforce that idea.
The entire explanation introduced a cosmology I found vaguely disturbing; the book seemed to claim that elementals backed those elemental forces which drove the world, and that was how the entire process worked. If I wasn't just reading too much into this, then what was next? The four humors of the body? Some sort of half-hearted Kabbalah?
An hour later my tea was cold and I was sick of waiting. The morning crowd was wafting in, and the barmaids were back to deal with them. No one had sat down close to me, however; the nearest person was two tables away and eying me warily over coffee. Conversation was muted... but at least it existed. It was eleven.
“Caitlyn, are most of the guests out of their rooms by now?”
She stopped and turned.
“Yes, most. Why, what are you planning?”
“To roust my companions of course. We need to get moving; the mysteries of the world won't solve themselves.”
“Hmm, should be fine. We usually have Gar start things off about now anyway.”
Well, that's pretty kind, letting the drunks sleep in late. So there won't be any problems with me going upstairs and knocking on a few doors?”
She shook her head with a grin.
“Pound away, anyone not up yet should be. Anyone who complains, well they can complain to Gar.”
I handed the tea pot to her as she moved to leave, and stuffed my book back in my bag.
“That's a pretty sound customer service decision. Happen often?”
“Only twice so far!”
And then she was gone. Hmm, in a week, twice seemed often. Oh well, back upstairs with no need to creep this time. I knocked at a polite volume on the door of room number 2, Karl and Matt's. I was greeted with silence. So I knocked a little louder. Then louder still, and there was still no response.
So it was time to take the kid gloves off.
My sword would make a good conductor, as well as offering me some control over the direction of the sound, and possibly even distance. I'd never done this before, but it should work. It was a mild worry that I seemed to keep resorting to magic for the most mundane things, but it is what it is. I was going to be kinder than Gar, I was sure. The rooms were all next to each other, which definitely helped the next step.
Some concentration, some focus on my blade, and a good whack on the door with it were all that was required to get the ball rolling. At my urging my blade acting like a tuning fork, spreading a low, persistent, and absolutely nagging sound directly into the rooms I was targeting. It took less than a minute to get results, though they weren't the results I was expecting.
I almost lost my breakfast as multiple sounds of others upchucking hit my ears over the resonant tone I had made. Whoops, looks like I had found one of THOSE sounds. It hadn't affected me that way... but they were drunk after all. Ugh, I had just made more work for the staff here; they were not going to be fond of us. I hoped they'd let us stay on our way back home... if we came back this way that is.
The door in front of me opened, and Karl stared blearily out. He had some vomit running down his chin. He did not look at all pleased, but responded calmly enough.
“Morning. Could you please stop that noise?”
I stopped, just as the next door opened and Thomas roared through it.
“Someone stop that infernal racket before I kill them!”
He promptly bounced his shoulder off the door jamb. He couldn't kill a fly, as uncoordinated as he was. Well maybe by falling on it; he was a huge guy, after all. I decided to ignore him; looking further into the room I saw Matt staring at the puddle of puke on his bedding, he looked out of it, and that made me feel guilty... at least a little. After all none of them looked in any way near sober, even after seven hours.
“Morning. Almost check out time, so I came to wake you all. Sorry about the results.”
“Why would you pick that way, you witch?”
Did I hear correctly? Did Thomas just call me a witch?
“Well it was me or Gar you neanderthal. Which would you have preferred?”
He shut up as heavy footprints sounded up the stairs. Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear; there was Gar. He looked less than unhappy, though he wasn't looking at me. In fact, he looked downright terrifying at the moment.
“Lady Muse, these drunks bothering you?”
“No, just needed to wake them up. Can you help them get cleaned up, please?”
They needed a good dunk to clear their heads. And maybe some pharmaceutical help with their inevitable headaches. I could handle that end, if they asked nicely. I couldn't help carry them all, after all. Gar probably could, if they left their armor off. Then again, it looked like I didn't have to; I finally noticed the stable hands behind Gar on the stair way. The last room, the one with Phil and pastor Collins, hadn't even been opened yet.
“Sure I can do that.”
Then he bellowed, startling me.
“Alright you lot, get up! You had your fun, now it's time to pay for it!”
He put an arm around Thomas and guided him down the stairs; he wasn't gentle, but he did keep him from tumbling headfirst and breaking something he might need. There were enough stable hands to grab everyone, and they did so, quickly and quietly. I wanted to help, but there was no one left to help... and I wasn't cleaning up all that vomit. Caitlyn was waiting at the bottom of the stairs.
“Sorry; there is an awful lot of... mess up there.”
Her cheer slipped a bit.
“It's OK, it's not your fault.”
“Actually I think it was. The magic didn't work as I expected.”
She nodded to the two girls that went by, headed upstairs with soapy water filled buckets and some kind of gloves on their hands. While the two passed me they weren't smiling, but they weren't frowning either.
“Nah, that's not your fault. Really! The drink around here makes people puke all the time! We're used to it.”
She leaned in close.
“We just charge them for the clean up.”
She smiled, and I couldn't help it; I smiled back. The service of this inn was excellent.
Toledo looked quite different from the last time I was here. It could have been the buildings, none of them over four stories and all of them made of wood or cut stone. It could have been the sprawl of it, with the winding and narrow cobbled streets. It could even have been the market with unrefrigerated meats, butchers nearby watching with naked cleavers in their hands, or the loud farmers selling vegetables out of carts, many of them small and wilted looking. Maybe the obvious open drainage was a clue, or the smells that were ranging from faintly rotten to absolutely disgusting.
It could also be the fully moated castle on the obviously man-made hill overlooking everything. It was sort of rough to tell.
We went through the gate with our escort, the esteemed Captain and his merry men. Who actually had been merry, and nice company for the trip. He waved at me with a wide grin when we split up; he had to report in and we had to find rooms for the night.
“Sheesh, finally. Thought that guy would never shut up.”
Matt did not appreciate the good Captain, or his small talk.
“At least he made things easier.”
The escort had cleared us from any further harassment by other patrols, gotten us in the gate of Toledo with ease, and had kept us from getting attacked on the road. Of course, I wasn't sure about the last part, but with thieves in my room last night, I wasn't about to deny the chance, no matter how tame this area looked. Monsters had nothing on mankind sometimes, after all, and the thief hadn't been a Kobold.
Or if he was, he was a very tall one.
The inn recommended by the Captain was called the “Sword sheath”, and was probably only recommended because the military or cops or whatever they wanted to call themselves had an eye on it already – but that suited me right down to the ground. Some of us had other ideas though.
“We shouldn't be where any organized military can watch or find us.”
Some of them wanted to give me a headache.
“Phil, if we vanish they will just look for us until they find us, and then trust us less because we vanished in the first place. We need to work within any official channels left for now, we need the information they are likely to have.”
Your average mugger or murderer isn't likely to have ideas on what happened to the world, after all. Or if they did, they were unlikely to be useful. There would be plenty of time to check whatever dark underbelly this city had (and I had no doubt at all that it had one) after we had exhausted the side of the street with actual paid spies.
The inn itself was down the main street (I didn't catch the name, road signs seemed to be missing) and near the market. It was not all that different from the road in we'd stayed the night before. Smaller, less sprawling, and without a barn for animals, it still managed to leave the impression with me – probably because it was clean and looked well cared for. I could smell food inside, meat roasting vegetables frying, and they didn't smell as if they were burning.
I missed the lack of trees around it though; even this main street felt a little claustrophobic to me.
The inside was brightly lit thanks to the use of actual skylights made of glass colored a washed out blue set into the slat roof. The place looked clean and smelled of mint – and unwashed people of course. There was a sizable crowd, mostly Men in uniforms and clad in steel; Phil's hands were already twitching, and Thomas looked a little green.
Karl and I, on the other hand, strode up to the bar as if we owned the place; after we all wiped our feet of course. I didn't even have to remind them this time. Aside from a few curious glances, mainly at Ethan, our party was ignored. The bartender was old, graying, and had long since run mostly to fat; though he was in that curious not quite overweight stage. He smiled as we approached, showing some bright shiny teeth.
“Can I help you?”
Alright, so it was polite, but it seemed a bit less so than one would expect. Karl answered while I kept my mouth shut, per our agreement.
“Yes, we'd like rooms if possible.”
“Of course sir! How many?”
“Four.” That was 2 of us per room. I wonder who Karl wanted me to room with. I wasn't sure if I should object after my last inn experience…..
“Of course sir, that will be eight gold.”
Eight gold!?! Per night? Was this place the Ritz or something? Karl handed over the money with a raised eyebrow. The bartender just shrugged and handed him four crude keys. Thinking back, eight gold was around a thousand dollars in my head; I knew what I guess were something like exchange rates. I also knew that while I could afford it easily, staying here for long would probably bankrupt my companions. We needed to find our answers quick or we'd be in back washing dishes or worse.
Karl handed me a key on the walk back to the group. “You'll be with Pastor Collins.”
That made sense – Pastor Collins wouldn't try anything, and he as ex-military, he was better in a physical fight than I was, or even than the robes he wore suggested. So if we wanted to bait a repeat performance, then squash it, he was the perfect choice. He was even a lighter sleeper than I was.
I wasn't in any hurry to dump my stuff in the rooms for obvious reasons, so I took a chair while the others went on up; not that I blamed them, they didn't have bags like mine. I passed the Key to Pastor Collins and flagged down the barmaid as they made their noisy way up the stairs.
The barmaid was less young than the last example, and less pretty, with limp stringy dirt colored hair and a disinterested attitude. Then again, getting groped all day by men with metal gloves while wearing crappy wooden shoes might have something to do with it.
“I'd like a bottle of good wine, and a pitcher of beer for my companions, please.”
“hm, We've some Sigalan red if you want.”
Sigalan red jogged another memory I didn't know I had. Sigalan was an elven kingdom, in Idaho, or what used to be Idaho. On the border of Oregon, or what used to be Oregon, they grew some surprisingly good grapes, somehow. There was some sort of trade secret there that I could almost tease out of my head… but all in all it made for a mid to high quality wine; just short of the truly expensive vintages.
“That will be perfect, thank you.”
She flounced off, literally avoiding a grabby hand by less than an inch. The guardsman the hand belonged to looked amused. Maybe this was a game the two played or something; she didn't seem all that upset either.
I had a book pulled out (my bestiary) and was taking my first sip when the guys came back down. They were pretty noisy and much more relaxed. Phil wasted no time in telling me why as they all sat down, almost fighting over the pitcher like starving dogs over a piece of meat.
“The windows have bars in them; all of them. They are pretty sturdy, too. You'd need a pry bar or hammer to take them out, and it's make a lot of noise. The locks are terrible, but no absolutely awful. Makes things a bit harder for any mystery guests.”
That combined with the military presence the place had, off duty or not, will definitely help. Still, there were other ways, especially with spells. It would be nice if the esteemed Captain had this in mind when he recommended the place, rather than the watching thing. But he could probably manage both thoughts.
“Ah, lass, you read my mind!” Ethan effused at me, blowing froth from his beard.
I managed to keep any of his froth from hitting me; why he'd sat next to me I didn't know.
“Not all that hard really, Ethan. There is only one thought on it, after all.”
He laughed so loudly everyone turned to look; I hid in my cloak hood.
“You've got the right of things there! A day of walking and a cool beer is the only thing I want. Makes the hot dusty day worth it.”
Well at least he didn't take offense and yell at me.
Karl was too busy drinking to comment though Matt was grinning. Thomas was staring into his own half full mug as if it contained something dead – which it may, I didn't actually specify any quality for the beer. An oversight caused by the fact that I wasn't drinking that swill. The others didn't seem to mind, at least.
Randolf had a different take on things. “You should drink this instead of that fruity smelling wine; it'll put hair on your chest.”
I looked down with an arched brow. He shrugged back at me.
“Drink enough, maybe the hair will replace those?”
“Surprisingly tempting, but I think I'll pass. This stuffs pretty good.”
Karl looked relieved to not have a fight on his hands. He really should have more faith, I'm not that touchy.
“So did you order food too?”
“Of course not, I didn't know what any of you wanted.”
Phil finished draining his tankard and stood up. “None for me, thanks. Got things to do.”
So he was going to prowl for information. “You sure? The meal is included in the inn price.”
For as much as the room cost, it had better be. He visibly waffled for a moment before shaking his head.
“Nah, I'll get something along the way. Got to see a man about a horse.”
Karl waved the barmaid back, and she avoided another pinch from the same guy with a grin on her face that matched his; apparently it was a joke after all.
“What can I get for you?” She didn't have a notepad or a menu, I realized. In fact, there wasn't a menu posted anywhere. She also didn't have a name tag.
“Whats' today's special?” Karl asked her.
“Roasted pork and butter beans, with summer squash, or grilled vegetable medley, which is green beans, carrots, mushrooms, grilled and then put in a salad with some tomatoes and radishes.”
So, a vegetarian option, huh?
Everyone else ordered the pork, and the barmaid just nodded as if she expected it. But I just wasn't feeling it today.
“I'll take the grilled vegetable medley.”
Of course everyone but Pastor Collins stared at me as if I had said I'd murder everyone in the room.
“What? Some day's you just feel like a salad.”
Randolf immediately barked out: “I don't.”
“Well, I do.” Philistines. It wasn't like I didn't eat meat; I'd eaten deer jerky on the trip, and rabbit. I just didn't feel like it right now. Hm, was philistines even an accurate term anymore? I was willing to bet the books we now had no longer mentioned the culture. Another thing to check on….
The barmaid skipped off again, taking a few more orders from memory before skipping off into the kitchen. It was mildly impressive, actually, even if most people probably ordered the same thing.
“So, how do we go about finding our answers, lady Muse?” Matt asked, obviously trying to needle me.
“I've got to wait on the good Captain to find time to escort me to the castle, so I can see the wizard in residence. A guy by the name of 'Stick.'” From what the Captain said, he's the one co-coordinating the 'what the hell happened' efforts here.”
“Well that sounds like a whole lot of useless waiting.”
Pastor Collins spoke up: “I believe I can help with that. There are bound to be churches here, with other men of the cloth, whatever cloth that may be now. If I get in touch with them, we might get some answers.”
It seemed unlikely it would be that easy, but it was worth a shot. Karl seemed to agree.
“Alright, but take Thomas with you. It might be dangerous alone.”
Randolf grumbled but stood up when Pastor Collins did, and followed him out the door. Of course, he still had the tankard in his hand, and it was full, but I doubted there were public drunkenness laws on the books anymore. It certainly wouldn't hurt his disposition any, so there was less chance of scaring off any clergy.
Ethan took his cue. “On that note, I'll see if I can contact any Dwarves. There should be some here, and they may know things we don't.”
He stumped out, leaving his own tankard while I looked on. Karl hadn't assigned him a buddy; he'd just waved as he left. Was it just that he was a fighter and Pastor Collins wasn't, or were there maybe some trust issues there? I mean, I didn't trust him, he was a dick. But I thought he and Karl were getting along.
Thomas stood up a mere beer later, wiping the foam from his mouth with a hand.
“Screw this. It's too annoying in here; I'm going outside.”
With a shrug I returned to my book. And then there were three; at least Karl and Matt didn't seem to want to go anywhere. They both looked pretty bored though, so I reached into my bag and pulled out my spellbook and another bestiary edition.
“Do something useful, don't just drink.”
Matt shrugged. “Well, it's better than tiddlywinks or dice.”
Karl just started flipping the pages, no doubt looking at the illustrations. I knew he could read, and I wasn't letting him off that easy. I had to admit the illustrations were very well done however; very lifelike. I didn't really want to know how the artist had gotten some of the creatures depicted in it to hold still in such poses long enough to draw or paint them… that way lay madness.
It was probably magic anyway; the games always made stopping time seem like child's play.
I was done with my wine and the section on elemental contracts when the Captain walked up to our table. The sun had to be setting outside, judging by the light.
“You're late Captain.” I don't think he ever had told me his last name; if he had, I didn't remember it, and I wasn't going to call him Captain Harry.
“Sorry, got held up when making a report to all the assorted brains trying to figure out what happened. You'll be pleased to know that they add Solace and Shrewsberry to the map of affected areas, and the grilled me for an hour on Georgetown for answers I didn't have. Then of course, they sent me to find you, because you'd have an eyewitness account and a much better understanding of what went on there, and never mind that they had delayed me from going back to get you in the first place.”
I grinned and pushed a clean tankard his way. It was going to be his anyway, I'd ordered for him too. That the boys had gone through the first pitcher didn't change that.
“Stay the extra five for a drink? You look parched.”
He sat with a clatter and a sigh. “You read my mind, Lady Muse. Though I really shouldn't here. Word might get back to my superiors regarding my prompt service or lack thereof.”
Karl gave an amused look. “Their fault for wasting time as much as yours. I doubt anyone here is going to rat you out, and if the information is that time sensitive then we should have been there already.”
He nodded but drained his beer in one gulp, so fast he almost choked, then stood up. With a shrug I stood up too. Karl and Matt both stood up a moment later, at the same time.
“If you'll follow me, Lady Muse.”
He led the way out, to where two of his own men were waiting in the street while Karl and Matt both followed me. Somehow I rated two buddies in our system, when Pastor Collins only rated one? The Captain had probably not wanted to spook us, which explained how many men and why for him, but I had to work to stave off the anger. Mildly insulting it may be, it was also accurate that I was one of the weaker members of us, and going into what could be a lion's den.
Karl had to come anyway, as he was our expedition leader; Matt was just being a concerned friend. Nothing to set their hair on fire for.
The streets were more open in the burgeoning darkness; the merchants and stall vendors had closed up shop and most of the people out seemed to be rushing home. There were torch brackets on the walls here and there, but no torches lit, and it was probably going to get very dark very quickly.
“Not paying the torch guy?”
The Captain smirked. “Nope, city is still busy getting lumberjacks to cut the wood. There is a nice convenient forest that popped up not far from the city though, so it's not all bad.”
I thought about it; that would be an awful lot of wood. They needed to switch to natural gas… or magic. Made me wonder, though; shouldn't this city have something like that already, considering the changes everywhere else I'd seen? I could see small towns closing up at night, but cities, even bronze age cities, tended to sleep late. Something else for the book.
One of the escorts was fumbling a torch; I kept forgetting human eyes were worse than mine.
“Well I'll do my part. You all can save your own torches.”
A slight hum and light bloomed, bright and warm as the sun. The captain whistled in appreciation while the guard just shrugged. I sent the ball on ahead of us and the captain led the way. He led all the way up the hill at the edge of town, and to grounds of the castle I was admiring earlier: it was much easier to admire from this range.
The pile of stones was literal, made of local granite blocks big enough to use as a table. It was gray and shot through with bands of dirty yellow. The cobbled road led right to the moat, which was about 20 feet across, and a drawbridge to go over it. There were soldiers all over, and more than a few were carefully watching my ball as it floated up. The rest were watching us – almost as if who would be watching whom was scripted.
“The lady Muse to see the Explorer's council.”
“Of course, Captain Sark, they are expecting you. One moment.” The guy, a tough and grizzled looker who could probably give Randolf a run for his money waved at the guards behind him, and the drawbridge started lowering with a screech.
It took a moment while each group politely pretended we didn't exist to the other for the thing to finally lower. This close I could see the cracks in the treated but obviously aged wood, and the rust in the iron bands holding it together. It didn't even creak as we walked over it, but that kind of lack of maintenance probably said something about the minds of past occupants – or current ones.
The inner courtyard seemed to echo my thoughts. there were the usual outbuildings; the smithy, the stable and farrier, a covered well and a grain silo, barracks and a garden… but the smithy was ramshackle for all it's large size, the stable was unpainted and the wood slats were beginning to warp, and the garden was overgrown. Only the castle itself and the barracks looked cared for, for all that the other buildings were occupied. Cheap candles glowing through windows gave that game away.
There wasn't any sort of chapel, and I couldn't help feeling that there should be one. Didn't all castles used to have one as a standard? Maybe it was in the castle proper or something, but that didn't seem right.
We were quickly led past a truly massive banded iron gate and into the castle proper. I snuffed my light as I walked in; I did not want to cause any misunderstandings. Here things were obviously cared for, with vibrant tapestries dusted fresh flowers placed strategically for color. I suspected if I lifted up one of the corners of the rugs in the receiving hall however, there would be dirt under it. I could see staff working on cleaning, but they were listless; uninterested. The only good news was they seemed even less interested in us than they were in cleaning.
They didn't lack for delicate looking glass and tin lanterns, placed everywhere with an oil and wick burning merrily away.
We were led around the front and to the tallest tower because of course the wizards and wise men would be holed up there. Never mind that the tallest tower was easiest to shell or nuke and visible from great range than the rest of the castle.
There had been plenty of soldiers outside, but there seemed to be precious few in here. Just two in the receiving hall, and two in front of the tower door proper. They stiffened and waved us through, looking at me the entire time.
The ground floor looked like a war room, with a large round table and several people, a few in armor, and many in a multitude of civilian dress, hunched over what looked like maps and reports… most on paper, but some on parchment. Unless I missed my guess that one in the upper right corner was on badly cured sheepskin.
There was a second table, just under the open window, full of food and drink of all kinds. It took full advantage of the breeze and flies, but those grazing on it didn't seem to mind too much. I resolved not to touch anything; I'd eat my ration mix before I touched that mess.
The first person to look up and notice us had to be the mage Sticks. Mainly because, well, he was a collection of sticks. I could see his arm bones, his cheek bones, and if not for the none too clean white robe made of cheap cotton, I would probably be able to count ribs. Worse, he had a large mustache that looked like a caterpillar bristling on his hatchet face; it almost seemed alive. I guess it was making up for the fact that it was the only hair he could grow anymore.
“Lady Muse, thank you for your timely report on the villages and sights you've seen. We've been expecting you, and have a few questions…?”
“Why yes, I am Lady Muse. And you are, sir? Who are your companions?”
He flushed.
“Ah, I apologize. I've not slept in a very long time. I am of course Sticks.' he glared at the Captain as he gave the moniker, there had to be a story there, 'and I'll go around the table for you.”
He started pointing. “From the left, we have Salamander, Pile, and Crone, and Sir Finley Surrat, Sir Dennis Barrington, and Captain Howell, our captain of the guard.”
The first three were obviously magic users: Salamander was a small handsome man with orange hair dressed in oranges and reds; all his clothes had a sort of flame pattern, and he was smoking. More of a dead giveaway could not be given. Pile was the groups Pigpen, in a dirty black robe made of burlap; he even had smudges on his crude featured face. The Crone was a rather ugly looking middle aged human woman, all bony planes and edges, but far from looking witch-like. Almost like a female sticks; She was still glaring at sticks.
“Katerine is my given name. Please call me by it, and don't be like these other assholes.”
Sir Finley Surrat coughed.
“I'm Muse, and I'm pleased to meet you. These are my friends, Matt, and Karl.”
“Pleased to meet you all.' Captain Howell drawled back at us – was he southern, and if so how did that translate so well? 'Now, if you'll come over here, we will try to answer your questions so that you may take the answers back to your patch of the world.
They led us to the table, where a map rested. The map was new and showed the castle we were in. A significant portion of the map around Toledo was covered in a faded pink color. I recognized it as having come from a type of pigment from crushed rocks, and rubbed into the parchment. Shrewsberry was newly colored.
“The colored region is the one we know for sure is like the surrounding area. We were going to mark suspected areas too, but Cro – err Katerine correctly mentioned that it would hamper later marking efforts on a now very expensive map, so we decided not to.”
Katerine elbowed him. “They didn't need to know that, you dolt.”
I focused on the map while they argued.
The area colored in was large in square miles, but there were very few areas marked out from farther out than Shrewsberry – which I'd sort of expect, given the state of travel now. What was less than reassuring were the two small areas marked with a skull and crossbones. I doubted Johnny Depp had found some friends and set up shop, which meant they were marking danger. A third sported the same symbol, but I knew all about it – Georgetown.
“What about these spots?” Karl had noticed, and didn't hesitate; his finger was tapping the skull closest to him.
“Well, that one is the old quarry. It used to be an old coal mine but reconverted itself when everything else did. The only reason we know that is because of old maps; to date, only one scout sent into the area has returned, and he said he some really large people there… giants.
The other spot is the town of Normal, which isn't anymore.' he grinned, but the rest of us failed to laugh, so he stopped. 'A day after whatever happened, happened, the town was taken over by rioting orcs, who have been there ever since. Talks are currently ongoing to resolve the issue peacefully, but that's all I really know. We've been a little busy looking for the root cause, rather than dealing with symptoms.”
“Find anything interesting?” I'm an idiot; I shouldn't have interrupted. Sticks didn't seem to mind though, or even notice. His eyes were bright as he replied.
“No, although your own report does lead us into some interesting territory in that regard.”
Matt did it this time. “How so?”
“Well, Georgetown wasn't a ghost town in any sense of the word. Now it is. But it's more than that – according to the report that captain Sark gave us, you stated that time worked differently there, and at different locations within the town?”
“From what I observed, yes. It seemed too risky to stay and observe the process, but that is what I – what we all saw.”
“Right, well it's more than we had to go on. With that sort of phenomenon happening, it's not that big a stretch to say that whatever happened was dimensionally related.
Katerine snorted. “Says you. I think it's a large stretch, especially considering that we only have one incident to go on, and that only on the word of some people we don't know – no offense, dear.”
Dear, huh? “None taken.”
Sticks almost slapped her with a waving arm.
“But it's not just one incident! There are other reports, dozens, all stating the same kinds of things!”
“All even less substantiated than this one, and on a much smaller scale! We haven't proven anything with this!” Katerine fired back.
Clearly this was an argument they had argued before.
“But this is a fully substantiated report, witnessed and signed by several people, and investigated by our own troops!”
Katerine huffed and crossed her arms. “It's a start, is what it is. And that's all it is.”
Sir Surrat coughed again.
“So, Lady Muse. Do you have anything to add to your observations as reported to us?”
The implications of the event being some sort of time effect we all suffered were staggering; if these people had other reports, no matter how unsubstantiated they were, it didn't look good.
“Just that I'm not sure those ghosts there were ghosts, after all. At least now. If time was affecting them differently they probably died, but if it was another sort of dimensional interaction, then they might just be – trapped. And unable to do anything.”
Something which in my opinion was far more horrifying. Sticks broke that train of thought as it was leaving the station.
“You mean like the town and everything in it was out of phase, or similar?”
“That's exactly what I mean, but I don't see how it would work. It seems pinned to a locale, but if it's fixed then why doesn't it stay put when the Earth moves, or even move to another location? Having it fixed in one place, on one town, seems suspicious.”
Katerine shook her finger at us both. “It's all unfounded speculation, and that's enough of that.' She put a hand in Stick's face, forestalling his retort. 'I'm not saying you're wrong, I'm saying we don't have enough information to know, and it may be detrimental to pursue one avenue of thought when there might be others we never consider as a result.”
I actually agreed. “Another thing to consider is that what happened in Georgetown and other places, may be a symptom of something else related to the cause we're looking for but not related to the cause itself. It's not likely, but it's something we can't ignore.”
They both stared at me, mouths open. Salamander face-palmed in the background, muttering something I heard clearly: “Not another one.”
Sticks recovered first. “True, it wouldn't do to get ahead of ourselves. More expeditions will need to be sent, and our current ones informed of the possibility of more Georgetowns. Captain Sark, please send more runners.”
Salamander face palmed again, while Captain Howell paled.
“We cannot send any more runners; the last group we sent haven't returned yet. We simply don't have anyone to spare.”
That was a lie, I was sure of it. There were plenty of people around if you weren't paranoid. What did the guy in charge, this Duke Oher, think was going to happen? Was it Duke Oher? I was pretty sure Captain Sark had told me it was, at one point. At any rate, the man seemed a little too fixated on security.
I was pretty sure Captain Howell knew what I was thinking; he didn't call me on it though. Captain Sark went the table and snagged a drink; he was a very brave man, there were probably flies in it or something.
“So, Lady Muse, your report says you've seen dinosaurs and kobolds in your travels?”
I nodded. “Yes. The dinosaur actually attacked Solace. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but it was only quick spell-work that saved lives. In fact, if there are other towns that are not covered the way Solace was, troops should be dispatched to serve there.”
I wouldn't say Solace 'is' covered since I'm not there and I didn't trust the magical backup they had in my stead.
Sir Surrat coughed. “We do in fact have troops on their way, even to the borders of the kingdom, in order to protect the populace. Those that need the help, that is.”
And also to secure the borders against invasion no doubt. The lord here was definitely on the paranoid side. Whatever, it worked for us. The more people flooding areas, the more information we got. I wasn't even sure it was a bad thing.
“So, since we shared, mind if you return the favor, so we can do our due diligence?”
Katerine looked at me sourly, while Sticks just shook his head.
“The cribs notes version is we are just as lost as you are. No idea what happened or why, though it's beginning to look like it had something to do with time or other dimensions, somehow.”
“Well then, can I read your reports and dispatches? Would you mind?”
Captain Howell gestured expansively. “Not all all; be our guest.”
I took a seat and a stack of parchment… and then the Captain slapped down a much larger stack next to me with a grin. “I'd take it as a favor if you'd organize them by region, according to the map there.”
It was going to be a long night.
I yawned and sipped my tea, wishing I had more; my travel cup (carved lovingly from wood by an artisan who used to be an artist – a sculptor) was not insulated, and the tea within had long since grown cold. I flexed my fingers in my gloves.
It was an unusually chilly morning, so why was I out in it?
The quarry was covered in a light fog which obscured vision past a hundred feet. Good for us to avoid detection as we sat over it, but bad for us to actually see what was going on below us.
A mining operation, conducted by people ten feet or taller without any power tools. They simply slammed rocks together with enough force to shatter them, then picked through what remained. I knew it was still going on because I could hear it, and we'd watched it happen before the fog rolled in. I also knew about the forges, used to smelt the metal once it was found. So we knew what they were after.
What the stone blocks being made for some hundred feet away from that I had no clue, but houses would be my guess. The entire area was denuded of trees and that left me feeling exposed, even with the fog surrounding us.
Another sip of bitter cold tea and I glanced to our fearless leader.
Karl had been given specific orders. While my mandate from the powers that be at Toledo was to look for magic and magic explanations, Karl's was simple. Ask the Giants to move; if they wouldn't move, force them to. That was the job we'd been given to keep our access to the information network the lord of Ohio was creating.
In a word, it was bullshit. It sickened me. There was some hope for a peaceful resolution, but if these giants were like the kind I'd read about, I didn't have much. Giants were stupid, historically. I'd have to try very hard not to allow that past history with giants to color my current perceptions of them.
“What do you think, Lady Muse?”
“I think we try to negotiate.”
Randolf growled in disgust and almost threw the rock he was holding. He stopped at the last minute only because he wasn't sure if it would give us away; he was even more anti-giant than I was. He wasn't really fond of anything, really. Even his fellow humans.
“Right, no doubt about that, but how do we make sure we all live if negotiations go south? Not wanting to kill is one thing, but....”
“Yeah, I'm with you. I'm thinking.” How could we cover our retreat if we go down there to talk with the people that might be angry, territorial, and the weakest of which could chuck a rock better than a catapult could? If we pissed them off, we'd have seconds, at best.
“I'm actually a fan of not going down there at all. At least, not in person.” I finally decided.
“Illusions and trickery? Smoke and mirrors? I approve but didn't figure you as the type.” Phil stated. I couldn't even see him, he was blended in so well.
“I'm not, normally. But I can handle a simple projection of Karl and add his words to it easily enough.” The elements were more my forte if anything was; I was pretty versatile.
“Sure, sounds like a plan.” Karl agreed. “But am I the one going to be doing the talking, or are you?”
“Well, you are. You tell me what to say, and the projection says it. We will have to be a bit closer for this to work, though. The outskirts of their operation, at least.” My range for such a complex illusion was a bit better than that, but I needed to hear what they said, and with the fog muting sound that was problematic.
Of course, that same effect made it much easier to sneak up on a people who had ears big enough to fit my hand in... if I wanted to do such a thing in the first place. We crept down carefully, near one of the trails the giants made but not on it, and stopped behind one of the frankly huge stone walls that were being erected; I could peek around it and see the broad strokes of what was going on, which was another plus.
“Hm, I can make us all invisible too, if you want.”
Pastor Collins chimed in, his whisper hoarse. “I can further mute any sounds we make.”
“Not sure that's a good idea,” Brian whispered back. “Won't that mute sound coming to us, too? And any communication we need to make?”
Karl shook his head even as Pastor Collins nodded his. “Yeah, let's not do that. Save it though, for a quick getaway if we need it. Having these people not able to pinpoint us could mean the difference between playing catch and not. Go ahead Muse, your show.”
I looked at him,fixing his features in my mind. It probably wasn't important what the puppet looked like, but I wanted to show I meant what I said about Karl calling the shots. Some focus, and more concentration than I expected, and there it was, a clone of Karl made of light and will. I made it walk around. It walked just like him, and the boots met the ground as expected. I could even make him stumble over loose stones, silently.
The steady pressure in the back of my head wasn't unexpected, but it was unwelcome. A mental command and sound was added, at a very low volume; I whispered, and clone Karl whispered in Karl's voice right along with me.
“She sells seashells by the seashore.”
Karl gave me a 'really?' look so I shrugged at him. “Alright good to go.”
Having clone Karl say that right next to me ear was disconcerting. Karl motioned the go-ahead so I had the clone march straight into town as if he owned the place. I also cast a quick as mass invisibility in the meantime. We would all be visible to each other as blue outlines, but not visible to anyone else. It didn't take long for clone Karl to be noticed, and one giant started over. I adjusted the sound.
“Take me to your leader.” Well, that was loud and clear and caused more of the giants to notice him.
I could feel the almost physical pressure of more of those stares from my companions. So I was a nerd and I sucked at improvising; sue me. If Karl wanted something better, he should have told me first.
The clone of Karl was soon surrounded. One giant, standing at fourteen feet tall and bellowing orders, strode up. He also had more of his kind looking for other intruders. I was happy we were invisible. I did notice the language being spoken wasn't one I knew.
Then he switched to English. Or whatever passed as English, now. Some common language all peoples seemed to share, or at least all the ones I've met so far. “Who are you?”
I started repeating Karl; reading his lips and making the sounds come from my illusion.“My name is Karl, and I represent the duchy of Ohio. I came to see what happened to the people who were living here, and the previous scouts.”
The giant tasted the word as if unfamiliar with it. “Duchy of Ohio? We know nothing of this kingdom of Ohio. We needed a home, and this area looked promising, so we took it. There were none to contest us. There were humans who came after, but they attacked us, so we killed them. They were weak. Are you weak?”
“No. What of those?” I had my projection point to the rubble of obviously human made houses.
“They were empty when we came. No one was using them, so we knocked them down.”
So either the mining town that was here vanished in whatever happened or they ran when they saw the giants and the giants decided that meant the place was abandoned. The former seemed less likely since there were reports from and about the town for at least a day after the event. But if not that, then where did the population go? They should have been around to say something if they had just run off, giants or no giants.
If the soldiers behind us decided the giants had done something, there would be bloodshed. I didn't want that if the giants were innocent. If they were guilty, and this one was lying to us, well, I'd probably start things off myself. But we needed proof, and I didn't really see anything definitive here. No graves or bones or anything lying around, no freshly turned earth. Seemed the giants just wanted whatever was in the rock itself, or to shape rock; I didn't know.
Some new/old instinct, perhaps.
Come to think of it, they said they killed the scouts for attacking them; if so, where were those bodies?
Karl came to the conclusion at the same time I did and made me ask. The answer was better than I expected. The boss pointed to the other side of their settlement or camp or whatever. “We made cairns for them.”
There were three, and they were very solid. So, they didn't eat humans, or if they did they were restraining themselves. And no village worth of corpses.
“You have settled on Ohio land, and if you wish to remain, you must submit yourselves to the authority of the Duke.” I stared at Karl as I repeated it; the duke had actually prepared a for this eventuality? Even told Karl to say that line for it? He nodded. Well, things were going to go to hell quick.”
“Is this Duke you speak of strong?”
Well, that wasn't the answer I expected. It was probably leading to it, though.
“Yes, he is.”
The giant nodded. “Good, then we fight, and the stronger one keeps the land. Tell him to come. You leave now unless you want to fight.”
Yep, it led right where I thought it might.
“I will tell him, and I'll leave. I'll come again.”
The giant nodded again. “Okay. Leave now.”
At Karl's direction, I walked the projection out of the circle of gathered giants, making sure to match the sounds up. Once back to us, I cut it and just managed to hold back the grateful sigh; that sort of thing was hard to do for extended periods.
“Let's get out of here before they realize there's more of us. One guy may not seem a threat to them, but all of us here skulking around? That will piss them off.”
I had no doubt about that, and the fog was beginning to lift. Karl gave pastor Collins the high sign, and an eerie silence dropped. We snuck out. We'd gotten back up the trail successfully, going wide past four different giants who were looking for intruders and were in the clear by the time the silence spell cut out. I dropped my own spell right after, not bothering to stifle the sigh this time.
Phil looked at me. “Why are you on your tip-toes?”
I looked down, then dropped to my feet. Oops. “I was sneaking. Everyone knows that when you sneak, you do it on tip-toes.
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
I sniffed at him. “You just have no proper respect for sneaking etiquette. A shame really, considering your profession. Well, your new profession.”
Phil grinned widely, taking a drink from a skin I knew didn't contain water. And this early, too. “Old profession too, for all that I didn't get caught. Don't look so surprised, you knew I was a hood; everyone did.”
“I wasn't surprised at that, just surprised that you admitted it, and in front of the local law.”
Karl chimed in. “We never could pin anything on him, and he knew it. Even now, without a specific admission, I can't do anything and he knows it.”
Ethan, who had been so quiet the entire morning that I'd forgotten he was there, finally spoke up. “As riveting as all this is, can we talk about it later, when we're all safe and not facing death by rock burial?”
He sounded pretty irritated but had a point.
Karl thirded it. “Yep, agreed, time to leave and meet our friendly liaison.”
Or friendly liaison was the commander of the soldiers a few miles behind us. A full hundred men, all armed and armored, led by one captain Kruger Short. Captain Short was cold and aloof, or at least he had been last night when we met him. Our job had been to scout the location and report back, then offer magical support in the event of a threat while his soldiers eradicated the menace. I wasn't sure I liked the word choice.
I had my suspicions, but I'd wait and see.
The hike back, a good two miles down a fully paved cart road, was an easy one. Nothing jumped us, which actually made me more nervous. A little screwed up, I had to admit, but there it was. Captain Short was waiting for us on a field just off the quarry road. While he still had a number of men with him, he was somewhat shy of the hundred and twenty or so he had started with.
That was actually a good thing. With the number of giants down there, even men in armor with a squad of cavalry wasn't enough to actually attack with, so the chances of a peaceful resolution just went up; but I did wonder where the others had gone.
“Ah, there you are, back safe and sound. So, what news do you have for me?” He directed the question at Karl, visibly ignoring me entirely, even though we were walking right next to each other.
“Well, your scouts managed to piss off a large group of giants and got themselves killed. Somehow, all three of them. The giants claim the village of workers was abandoned when they found it. They tore it all down and moved in, and are making their own settlement. We didn't see any evidence of graves or corpses, and no evidence the giant's were lying; they buried the scouts, but not anyone else. Admittedly, we didn't look too hard; I thought you should know what's going on before we risked getting discovered.
Captain Short looked us all over, frowning. “That's appreciated, but the job is only half done, then. You need to go back and find any evidence there; if you can, find out where the workers went and where they are now. I've got patrols checking on the towns nearby, so you won't need to do that.”
Ah, so that's where they went.
“Of course, the giants will still need to answer for the lives of our scouts, but the workers and their families are our first priority.”
I couldn't stay silent at that. “What are you going to do? Attack them? Kill them all?”
Captain Short looked at me the first time, his outrage plain to see. “Of course not, don't be stupid. But murders must be answered for. Only the guilty parties will be punished.”
He meant the leader, no doubt, the one who answered our questions. As the one in charge, he was responsible – but that really wasn't a good idea. I had no real idea how the giants might take the arrest of their leader, but I doubted it was well.
Nevertheless, he had a point. Not punishing murderers would cause problems later, and it was the right thing to do besides. At least the decision wasn't mine to make. I wasn't going to support his decision either, not if I could help it. I wasn't along to help kill a bunch of giants who might have been human before, and could have been provoked into killing. Not that anyone knew that yet. With luck, they wouldn't need to find out.
Was the rule of law even the same anymore? It couldn't be, the circumstances were all wrong, and yet I didn't want to believe it was. At the same time I knew that if the giants had found and attacked us, lethal force to escape was an option I wouldn't have hesitated on. It probably made me a hypocrite, somehow.
Of course, it didn't help that I didn't trust Captain Short; it felt like he was looking down his nose at something disgusting every time he looked at me, and trying not to inhale a foul stench. I was half tempted to show him what a foul stench was.
“Alright, time we should be going, right Karl?” Brian stated, moving up to my side, and I realized I'd been staring – well, glaring really – at Captain Short.
I didn't think asking him about his plans was stupid in the least. Antagonizing him, perhaps, but not simple questions.
Karl agreed. “Yep. Time to go. Come on, Muse, let's go find some villagers.”
Together they all but manhandled me away from the Captain and his men, and soon we were headed back down the road towards the giants.
“What are you even doing, antagonizing the armed man like that?” Randolf had the nerve to ask.
I looked to Karl, and he sped up, but not before I could see the disapproval on his face. Brain's face was much more open. “I was trying to make sure he wasn't going to go through like a scythe and kill a bunch of people in cold blood.”
“They aren't people, they are giants. Large, ugly, dumb, murderous brutes.” Randolf scoffed.
Pastor Collins sided with me. “She's right. Murder is wrong, no matter how big the person is.”
I couldn't believe what I just heard. “Not that long ago, less than two weeks, in fact, giants didn't exist. Can you be so sure about that? Them being dumb and murderous? They could have been rocket scientists or physicists before.”
Randolf shook his head in disbelief. “But they aren't now. We have to deal with the now, not the past.”
“No reason we can't try to deal with both. We are trying to figure out what happened in order to reverse it after all.” Thomas answered him - before I could. I couldn't have said it better myself, actually.
Randolf said nothing, but clearly, he did not believe in the mission anymore, if he ever did. On that I wasn't sure I could blame him; this was daunting. It looked like the entire planet was affected, at least from where we sat.
“Alright, enough. Quiet, and focus. I don't want to get buried alive. Lady Muse, can you still cast your invisibility?”
I nodded. “Sure, I can do it again. A few more times.”
“Good, that'll be the plan, when we get close.”
We walked, getting off the road as we got closer. The fog was gone, so we were forced to take it easy and slow to remain as silent as possible. There were still giants everywhere, looking around.
Pastor Collins cast his silence spell, (which ironically was a somewhat loud prayer requesting silence, and therefore not silent itself) and we carefully picked through the remains of the human settlement. The closest thing to a crime was rotten food. No bodies, human or animal.
I was beginning to feel the strain of my spell when someone tapped me on the shoulder. It was Phil, and he made a bunch of signs. Since I had no idea what the hell he was actually signing, he sighed soundlessly and gestured me away. We all regrouped and he led us away.
I hadn't even noticed Phil leave the first time, but when he led me away from the settlement ruins and to the edge of the forest near a gully, it was obvious he had at some point. At some point in that trek, sound returned, and we were all treated to the lovely sound of Randolf kicking rocks with metal shoes.
We all glared at him, even Karl. Why not? Ethan was fully armored too, and he was quieter.
“So, footprints.' Phil whispered, pointing them out. 'Not a whole bunch, but enough. There was a large number of people, human – or elf – sized, that went through here, and they did it all at the same time.”
Thomas studied the prints. “Yep. About a week ago, maybe a bit longer. Should be easy to track.”
Karl took a look, then stood up. “Lead on, then.”
I didn't bother. Both Phil and Thomas were better than I was, even if I did know what I was looking at, and I wasn't about to go grubbing in the dirt more. I followed along as we dodged giants. It was getting harder and harder to focus, and objects around my peripheral vision were getting fuzzy. I realized my breath was coming in gasps.
This was bad. “Wait. Got to stop....” I released the invisibility spell, and everyone stopped, ducking down and looking around for the threat. I started feeling better immediately.
I slid down a tree and took a seat. “Sorry. Just couldn't hold it any longer.”
Brain crouched beside me, a water skin in hand. “Nah, we should have asked. Still, almost two hours, for all of us. That's not bad at all.”
I took a gulp. “Sorry, it wasn't really affecting me... until it was.”
Karl blocked the light. “You should tell us if something is affecting you.”
“That's just the thing... normally it doesn't work like that. I cast the spell, the spell works, and then cancels when it runs out of energy. That's all. I'm not sure why this spell worked differently.”
“This looks as good a spot as any to take a rest. What do you say, boss man?” Ethan asked.
I looked at him gratefully while he pretended not to notice. Karl shrugged. “Sure. No giants around, everyone take five.”
I was tired, sure, but I wasn't made of glass, and I recovered quickly. Five minutes later I was ready to go – only no one seemed to believe it.
They were all still lounging around, looking almost obscenely fresh. Throwing twigs at each other, or just staring off into the distance. Ethan was braiding rope, of all things. I got up... and no one got up with me. So I could either say 'I'm ready' and look like an ass, or just stand there.
I grabbed my own canteen. Water was all well and good, but skins made it taste weird; filtering it through wood was much better. At least Pastor Collins was breathing hard too.
Brian threw a twig at me; it stuck in my hair. I pulled it out and sent it back.
Randolf got involved. “You know, it is around lunchtime. I could definitely use some lunch.”
“Sure, break out the trail rations.” Karl assented.
I swear it was a plot. I was NOT made of glass. We could even be eating while moving – after all, this was kind of a time sensitive case here.
We ate. I cracked open my book and tried not to glare. I wasn't really needed as a pair of extra eyes. Soon enough I was getting tapped on the shoulder.
“Time to go,” Brian whispered, apologetically. He offered me a hand up, which I took.
Almost a shame, really. Reading about water and how it exists to flow gently and exploit ruthlessly was interesting. Unscientific, but interesting. Also, nothing I didn't already know; the grand canyon exists after all. Or maybe that's 'existed', but the book made it sound like it was an intelligent decision. Or at least that there was more at work than simple cold facts and chemistry.
I wasn't a believer yet, but I was getting there. I'd just made people invisible earlier today, after all; something physics said was impossible. Well, conventional physics anyway.
“Thomas are we still following those tracks?”
“Sure are, Lady Muse. Something you would know if you bothered to check.”
“That's what you're along for.” Well, him and Phil both, really.
If Thomas was feeling confident enough to joke, I was pretty sure we were out of giant country.
We continued to follow the tracks. For hours. We didn't see anything in the meantime; nothing dangerous, nothing harmless. Not even squirrels or birds. It reminded me uncannily of Georgetown, though there didn't seem to be any of the same crackling tension in the air; it was more as if anything alive and mobile had better places to be.
To be fair I still heard creatures stirring, I just didn't see them. Perhaps it wasn't that odd, considering I was walking with two noisy ironworks with legs.
The problem was we still hadn't found any villagers by an hour towards nightfall. We circled to decide what to do about that.
“We can't go on, we don't know enough about what's ahead,” Thomas whispered.
I agreed with that.
“But we should just push through another hour, they might not be that far ahead, and then we're done.” If anything Randolf sounded disgusted with the whole trek. I guess if he viewed the entire expedition as a massive waste of time (as he seemed to), that was reasonable.
The other issue was how to get in touch with Captain Short, and let him know we were still on the job and where; we hadn't crossed any other towns or villages. Which might also be a little odd, but I wasn't sure; wouldn't a group of refugees head towards civilization, and not away from it?
Without a horse, trying to send someone back and expecting them to reach us by morning was stupid. So Karl, of course, turned to – Pastor Collins? What?
“Can you send a message to Captain Short? Will your goddess allow you to?”
Pastor Collins nodded, with a glance to me. Nervous? “Yes, I believe so. I can ask, of course.”
I kept setting up my tent, but when Karl walked by I couldn't keep silent. “I could send messages too, you know. Probably easier than Collins can.”
Collins glanced over from where he was building the fire up as Karl stopped. Yes, he was definitely nervous about something.
“Sure, but Captain Short doesn't like you, and you don't seem to like him much either, so having Pastor Collins do it seemed like a good idea. You can handle the direct report to the Duke's agents at Toledo.”
I gaped at him. Was he going over Captain Short's head?
He grinned at me. “Captain Stone asked for reports too, and while I'm sure he meant from Captain Short, he never said as much and I was there. I'm also sure your friend Twig would like to know what's going on.”
I shook my head. “His name is Stick.”
“Whatever. Will you do it?”
“Sure, but why?” I was already forming the bird of light and air which would relay the messages to the capitol. The bird was more flashy, but it would be easier and more effective in the long run.
Karl shrugged. “Man strikes me as a bit of a bigot, and I want our backsides covered. Going to see about hunting a little.” He ghosted into the woods before I could finish casting and collect myself.
Just when I thought I had him figured out, Karl surprised me. I probably owed him an apology of some sort. I made sure the alarm spells I cast excluded him and tuned out the sounds of the good Pastor's chanting as he started his own message spell.
I was pretty sure mine was more efficient. I was finished with the alarms before he was with his prayers, after all.
Phil came back, throwing his sleeping bag near the fire and throwing himself down on it. I hadn't even realized he'd been gone, though it made sense; there was work to do, after all. Pastor Collins didn't so much as flinch at the noise or production.
“The tracks just keep going.”
I frowned. That was odd. We were fast on foot, despite one of us being a dwarf. We were at least as fast as a group of refugees saddled with gear. They should have bed down for the night close to where we were, as this was close to maximum walking distance for a day and we hadn't passed a campsite earlier. So did they just not stop? And if so, what scared them so much they left their town and kept going? Buildings of any kind were at least cover; it didn't make any sense.
Karl came back as Pastor Collins finished up.
“No Game at all. Well?”
Pastor Collins went first. “Captain short knows and approves. He said to keep going until you find them; his scouts found no evidence of any of them in the other towns or villages around here. Not so much as a farmer had seen them, he said.”
That was odd.
“Lady Muse?”
Oh, right. “All parties that need to know will be informed by the end of the night. My bird will bring back all their replies.”
“Good enough.” I frowned. He sounded like he had an issue there, perhaps with the speed of my spell? As if trying to inform a bunch of people and hear their replies could be done all at once. Sure, anyone could do that for one person, but several?
“Impressive.” Pastor Collins noted. At least he knew the difference.
“As I was just saying before interrupted,' Phil interrupted. 'the tracks keep going, steadily.”
“How deep are they?” Brian asked.
“Not very. I'd have to say unloaded if asked, but I'd be more happy about it if someone else could verify.”
Thomas just nodded and stood up. I threw some trail bread and jerky his way; with no game that was supper. I could hear him crunch down on the stuff as he left, and winced. I'd stick with my own trail mix, less likely to lose a tooth that way.
“Think it's safe to say something is going on,” Karl admitted, taking his own share of the food I was passing out.
Ethan took his share and bit in with gusto. I wasn't worried about his teeth at all; they were probably granite. “Are we safe here?”
“Safe enough,” I answered. “I've got alarm spells and wards all around us, so if anyone or anything that isn't us tries to entire the clearing we'll know.”
Sure, it wasn't perfect, but we wouldn't wake up with giants piling rocks on us.
“Good.”
We all waited. Thomas came back, and I actually spotted him before I had Phil, though I didn't hear him. I busied myself scanning for the light of tell-tale fires nearby; there weren't any.
“Phil's right. The tracks just keep going, even and unloaded. Something is definitely wrong with them.”
“Great. I'm going to bed, enjoy your night. Don't forget to wake me up for watch.”
I wouldn't put it past Brian to try and let me sleep buddy system or not, and I didn't want to miss my bird coming back. Sure, it should last until it reports in, but something weird also happened earlier, with my magic. I didn't want to take chances.
At least there were still crickets to hear and fall asleep to; complete silence would always be eerie.
Morning dawned, bright and early. I was alive and rock free, so plan A was a rousing success.
I dressed and opened my tent; only Karl was awake, poking the fire with a stick and muttering. He looked up as I stepped out, forewarned by the noise. Phil shifted slightly in his ratty bedroll.
"Good morning, Karl."
"Good morning, Lady Muse."
"What, no coffee?" I half joked. I could really go for coffee right now, or even the much easier to make tea.
"I didn't feel like wandering off to collect wood in the dark," was Karl's answer.
I turned to face the rising sun. "A good point. So it was all quiet last night?" I'd almost said after I passed out dead to the world, but that wasn't the impression I wanted to give.
"Yeah. There were some giants that walked by a few hundred yards that way," Karl pointed back the way we'd come. "But they were loud and didn't see us."
"I see." I'd slept right through that. It was a safe bet I hadn't fooled anyone.
"So, what happened to you yesterday, Lady Muse?"
"I don't know. Something about the area we passed through seemed to sap my vitality, and maintaining the invisibility spell on us didn't help; either I'm not well suited for such a spell, or the drain required to hold it goes up the longer I maintain it. I'm still new at this magic thing, so when we hit that area - well, it caught me by surprise, is all."
Karl's face thundered and his voice became a low hiss. "If you think your spells can fail, you need to tell us first! If we rely on your magic and it fails at a critical moment...."
"Bullshit; I did warn you. I told you how long we had, and I kept it up longer. You don't need to act like I suddenly became unreliable. I've told you all the risks so far, at least all I know of. How can I be faulted for a new experience!?! There was something wrong with the ground we moved through yesterday, and it messed me up. Don't act like you didn't notice."
Karl's face twisted into something unreadable, but I didn't need to read it to know I scored a hit.
"Pastor Collins said the same thing." he admitted.
If he wanted to question my competence (again) that was fine. He could get all the second opinions he wanted. The real question was something else, however.
"Did he say what it was?" Because I had to admit I had no clue, other than it felt like being unable to breathe.
"No, he just said it felt evil. Which is great and all, but it doesn't tell us anything."
Maybe it did. And if it did, the good Pastor had to at least suspect what it was. Maybe he didn't want to worry anyone. I certainly didn't; if I said the word, it would end up happening.
My poker face wasn't as good as Karl's. "You know something?"
I busied myself with readying water for boiling; there should still be enough heat left in the embers for that. "I suspect something. I don't want to say it and be wrong."
"Come on, spill." Karl insisted.
I sighed. "Fine, but I could be wrong. I want that clear, here."
He nodded, leaning forward eagerly.
"The key is the pace. The townspeople are walking at an even pace, without varying, through broken terrain, and beating us. They are also not weighed down by baggage, or much baggage. The patch of ground we passed last night could have been unhallowed ground, I don't know what you call it. Something that saps magic or life energy."
I was guessing life energy, myself.
"So you're guessing undead."
I nodded. As chilling as it was, when you undead into the rest of the puzzle pieces, it made sense. But all of the villagers, converted to undead? I didn't want to see it. Even worse, I didn't want to see whatever could do that, and do it so quickly.
"Right, well, thanks for sharing. Next time, no matter how bad you think the news is, don't make sharing your speculations like pulling teeth."
"I don't like sharing weak theories, and this one is pretty weak. But fine."
Karl thought a moment as I broke out the tea... and Phil shifted again. Then he broke the silence again.
"So, no lingering effects from whatever it was yesterday? Also, what do you recommend if it is undead?"
"I recommend not jumping to conclusions until we have more evidence. For all we know, it could be an army of smart kobolds or something."
Karl took some water for his own tea. "Alright, no need to snap. But you feel alright?"
I took a sip and let the bitter and delicious heat warm my insides. "I feel fine. Full of vim and vigor, and all ready to go."
It kind of sucked that I was the only one who was affected by whatever that was yesterday, but it was probably a magic thing.
"Good. So, want some breakfast?"
"Not if it's from this area." I didn't trust it, and I'd rather dig into my own food reserves than forage.
"Fair enough," Karl stated... and then he clapped. Loudly. "Get up! It's morning and time to get moving! We have villagers to save!"
There were groans, and the camp started to stir. Ethan shot me a look as he rolled out of an actual bed of rocks, but I couldn't read it at all.
I looked the other way as the neanderthals put themselves back together; the sunrise was very beautiful, and they were not. Wait, I should probably strike my tent; I pulled my gear out and busied myself doing that, mainly so I didn't get tasked for something else.
It was good that I had because everyone was ready to go by the time I was done; if I'd waited any longer, they would have been waiting on me... and insufferable.
We picked up the trail, and picked up the pace, moving right into what wasn't quite a jog, but was probably as close as one could get in an overgrown area like this. But even with the pace, we didn't seem to make up any ground. If anything we were losing it; there was no evidence of a camp or any signs that the people we were chasing stopped, even for a moment.
"Lady Muse," Karl broke the rather unnatural science, his face serious. "Can you send another bird with an update?"
"Easily. What do you want it to say?"
"That we are still in pursuit of the villagers, or people who were likely to have seen what happened."
Well, that should help delay any action against the giants. "Alright, got it." I formed another bird of light and air and set it free. It should take a few hours to arrive... which would be just in time for the important people to wake up, probably. Rich people didn't normally get up at the crack of dawn.
I turned to Thomas. "So, how close are we?"
He looked up from a track, chewing on a stick, and spoke around it. "We lost time. The good news is we can probably make it up. This is a march we're following, not a sprint."
We kept going, and by the end of the day, even I could tell that we were gaining. However, that wasn't the only thing that was happening; any game that had been in this forest was gone. The forest itself was dying, the trees stunted and leaves a yellow spotted cliche straight from an early movie days sound stage. Not that you could see the color of the leaves in those movies, but I bet they were this kind of brown spotted yellow.
There was a feeling, pervading it. A sort of tense itch behind the shoulder blades and eyes that only got stronger; I'd noted it yesterday, but it was much more localized today. It made me more than a little jumpy and guessing by the darting eyes and unsheathed weapons, I wasn't the only one. Even Ethan was actually being silent for a change.
Almost by unspoken agreement, we all slowed, focusing more on silence than speed. The forest seemed to conspire against us on that front, proving no shortage of dead limbs and brush to part noisily before us.
But despite the feel of the place, and despite the look of it, nothing jumped out at us. When dark fell we stopped, again by unspoken assent. None of us wanted to go anywhere in this forest in the dark.
"Why are we stopping?"
Well, almost all of us. "Because the footing is treacherous, Randolf. Do you want to break a leg?"
I could just see his scowl at my answer in the deepening gloom. "I don't want to mince around this forest all year looking for these missing villagers. We can still push ahead awhile, I say we do it."
We both looked to Karl. He sighed. "I swear, you guys... alright, show of hands. Who wants to camp?"
Every hand but Randolf's shot up.
"Damn it. Come on! Do you all really want to spend the night stuck here?"
No, I was pretty sure none of us did, but the alternative of fumbling around in the dark was worse. I wanted to say that, but I kept my mouth shut with effort.
"Moon will be up tonight, and bright. There won't be many clouds." Thomas noted almost absently as he leaned back against a tree. He then jumped up as the tree creaked under his weight.
That was surprising. I wouldn't have expected Thomas of all people to come down in favor of groping in the dark.
Karl was surprised too. "If we can see, we can try it, but I make no promises. For now, set up and get some sleep in. Randolf and Ethan, first watch."
Well, if we could see we could continue, no matter how bad an idea it was. Whatever was in this forest was stronger at night, I was sure of it. Even if I was just pulling that idea out of my butt, running around a dark forest at night was a bad idea.
I set my wards in a hurry and set up bedroll by firelight. As much as I wanted my tent, there just wouldn't be time if we needed to move later.
No one spoke; we all ate in perfect unnerving quiet, ears straining for any sound that could be from an animal instead of a falling tree or branch. This time, everyone ate from their stores; not even Thomas was willing to hunt here now.
......
I woke with a start to find Matt hovering over me, already back in his armor, and clanking loud enough to raise the dead - or me.
"Lady Muse? Time to get going, the moon is up."
"I'm awake." The moon was indeed up, and while not full, was close enough to it, seeming to over over us with stark brightness, as if to try and rival the sun itself.
Well, I could see well enough; if I wanted I could draw the scenery, down to each fold of the bark on the trees. The humans probably could too.
We packed up and were back on the trail inside of 5 minutes; the worst time waster was picking up my reusable wards. Pastor Collins and Phil both used that time to rub the sleep from their eyes. I eyed the kicked out fire; tea could have helped.
We walked carefully, as soundless as shadow itself, and heard nothing but the occasional branch falling in the breeze.
Nothing jumped out at us. It was clear that by this point fire was to be the biggest concern. The hours passed and the moon sank below the horizon; by that point, we were all tired.
Karl pulled an ember from his pack and lit a small torch I didn't know he had. "Alright, camp again. I'm not losing a foot to a gopher hole."
I tried, but I couldn't sleep. So I read instead, using the firelight and sort of keeping Matt (who had watch) company.
"So what do you think has infected the trees around here?" Matt asked out of the blue.
Well, I could lie, but I didn't feel like it. "Blight. Death itself."
"Well, that's dark."
I shrugged. "You asked."
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"What does Pastor Collins say?" There was no way Matt hadn't asked.
"He said it was some disease... but he looked a little off doing it. Constipated no doubt."
Matt had made sure Pastor Collins could hear that last as he walked by, smiling all the while. Pastor Collins didn't waste time responding. "That's totally it. I was staring at that thing you call a face, and suddenly had to go or ruin my clothes."
Wow, brutal. "Good one."
"Thank you. But to answer your next question, the woods might be infected with something... else. But without past experience to compare it to, I just don't know. I will admit the terrain makes me feel uneasy."
"I think it does that for us all," Phil stated around is own crude mouthwash... which was basically pure alcohol from what I could smell.
Karl broke us up with "Get ready to march." Then went off to stand at the edge of camp, trying to look like an bad boy or action movie star or something. With a shrug I doused the fire, pocketing the last of the hot water carefully in my travel cup
We all got settled into a rough formation and started off. I had to work at not spilling any tea.
Hours passed in travel before we found the first body.
It was a deer, thankfully enough, but none of us would be eating venison. It was an old kill, rotten and festering, but with few insects swarming it. It looked to have been clawed or chewed apart. Just a few yards away was another... and this carcass was a bear. Similarly aged and similarly stinky, it was also a little light on insects.
Yeah, I didn't like where this was going. Judging from the smell, these two weren't the only ones.
"What do you think?" I asked Thomas.
"Lot's more where these two came from... but the tracks of the animals have been obliterated by the trail we're following.
It was an actual animal graveyard, of everything from squirrels to deer to bears. Everything that could live in a forest was dead here.
There was also more than a little evidence of fire here; the broken husks of trees were blackened and charred, and the undergrowth was so much ash wafting on the fitful breeze.
So first fire, then a truly massive number of animals, then people marching through? It didn't paint a picture I could make ready sense of, and from the looks of it neither could anyone else.
Unless... no; that was too ghastly. But still, I got up close to a few of the corpses, just to make sure. And I saw it.
Thread.
There was only one reason this squirrel would have thread embedded in it's fur. If it was pieced back together after it died.
"Karl, Pastor. Take a look at this."
Ethan followed the two over. He'd been more quiet and subdued than the rest of us lately, but he took one look and cursed, loudly. Karl's mouth tightened, and Pastor Collins whitened.
"I take it you see this, then? It's not just me?"
"Necromancy!" Ethan spat and cursed again.
"Unless some needed to perform an autopsy on a tree rat, I have to agree with our short friend." Pastor Collins opined.
Just great. I was too tired for this. "I was kind of hoping I'd imagined it."
"No such luck," Tomas ground out. "And we can't even load the normal standard for this sort of thing. The forest is too dead, any out of control fire risks killing us."
Screw that, I was loading fire anyway. Well, that and water, just in case I needed to put out the fire.
"Come on, let's move. Heads on swivels." Karl ordered, and set off. Ugh.
We tightened up a bit but didn't slow down. Every step further was a step into ground where the earth itself seemed to groan under the weight of evil. Or not evil... maybe entropy? Why would I think the absence of life or presence of death evil, whether it's true or not? Was this another foreign thought invading who I was? I'd never thought of death as evil before - if it was, it was very well camouflaged insidiously among the other thoughts I dealt with; nothing like the in-my-face thoughts I'd had the first day after the incident. Or event, or whatever it was.
I couldn't do anything about it, but I wondered if everyone else was having the same issue... or if it was worse for them. Did they even second guess themselves anymore, if they ever did?
Should I still second guess myself?
Before I could come to conclusion night fell.
"We should keep going," Randolf stated, right on cue.
The moon was already out tonight, fat and low, mocking us.
"It's a very bad idea to try and confront a necromancer in the dark if we're still making that assumption."
"A worse idea to wait and let the necromancer find out we're here and come for us. We need to hit them first."
"No," Matt said. "We're going. Now that we suspect necromancy, we should move quickly, and try to save as many people as possible. They can't all be dead."
Shame still felt the same. "You're right, Matt. You're right. Let's go."
Even if I thought differently, we should assume there were lives we could save; if we didn't, we would regret this moment for the rest of our lives.
Karl nodded and stalked off silently; Phil ghosted ahead to mark the best route.
We made very good time and kept going until the moon went under the horizon. Karl stopped and at the all clear hoot from Phil lit a torch. I took that as my signal to drop like a stone; I was in good shape, but tiring was tiring.
I looked at my tent; it was too much effort. Why hadn't I made one that would set itself up? My bedroll was easy at least. There would be no reading tonight.
......
Morning dawned as mornings are wont to do; this one was a little more chilly than the last, with a bit more dew on the ground and a fine mist swirling about our feet. That was good because if someone had to get fire-happy, all the moisture might curtail any spread of it.
Of course, it also brought the smell of decay that much closer to my nose, but I'd accept the tradeoff.
"You're cute when you scrunch your nose up like that," Phil told me with a smirk as he walked by.
Ethan strode along in his wake and made a show of looking me up and down. "I don't see it, man."
"You have to be tall enough to ride the big boy rides, Ethan," Phil told him without breaking stride.
What a jerk.
"How about I chew off your kneecaps, Phil?" Ethan asked as they finished walking out of my range.
Yeah, you tell him short stuff!
Wait, where were they even going? "Karl, where are those two going?"
"To the little boys room. They didn't want to do it in the middle of camp." Well, that was a relief; I was pretty sure no one wanted to see that.
Wait. "Don't bother," Karl continued; "They are using the buddy system, and not going far. No need to worry."
I worried anyway. I packed up, getting ready to move... then realized something.
The trail would be hard to follow until the mist burned off. But the sun was hours away from cooperating from that; it was overcast, and rain was threatening. I took a look; Thomas also decided to take a look.
"Can you follow it?" He asked me.
"Barely. Can you?"
"Sure, it's hardly a small or difficult trail. The targets aren't even trying," he replied. "But it's always nice to have a second and third opinion."
I wasn't sure I liked the choice of the word targets, especially from someone who agreed with us last night on saving lives. But then again, who was I to judge?
"Phil? Randolf?"
"Alright, third or fourth opinion," Thomas admitted. "I haven't actually been doing this as long as it appears."
Good point, I had just been assuming since he was the woodsman he could do it and do it easily when he had only been a woodsman for as long as I've been throwing spells. I had to remember that while other people were assuming about me, I was assuming about them.
We got ready to move - and Ethan and Phil came back, all but linked arm in arm. I hoped they washed their hands, but didn't have the guts to ask.
We moved in order of line, following the trail beaten into the dead undergrowth. This time, however, even I could tell we were catching up. That track there for example, despite being washed out by the dew, it was easy to tell it was laid yesterday. Probably early yesterday, but the leaf fallen in it made it clear the track was laid before the wind gusts yesterday, but not baked well enough to set.
I didn't really need to deal with it, though, bracketed how I was. I just needed to deal with the normal idiocy.
"He's right, you know," Matt said from behind me, pointing at Phil.
"Right about what?" The age of the tracks, the length of time the cloud cover would last? Or even how close we were?
"When you smell something rank and scrunch your face up, it makes you look very cute."
Oh, my Gods. "Shut up and focus, you idiot."
"Oh I am, I am."
"On your surroundings. Your other surroundings."
"Will do. Don't worry Lady Muse, I won't let you take an arrow in the knee!"
He really went there. "That was bad, and you should feel bad."
Matt tended to joke under pressure, and he was really cutting loose this morning. It wouldn't do to take it personally.
I wasn't sure how long the change had... changed, but I noticed about mid-morning.
There were birds in some of the trees. Not many, and not in every tree, but every once in awhile as we traveled, perhaps every hundred yards or so, there was a crow watching us as we passed with unblinking eyes in utter silence.
I signaled Karl, but rather than dropping back he just nodded. So, he knew then.
The stench of old death started to grow, to overpower everything else; even the clean tang of the mist, which if anything, seemed thicker than before.
We were being set up. The final straw was the first sounds we heard from our surroundings in days, carried by the weather and terrain so that it appeared to come from all around us - whimpering and sobbing.
A house loomed suddenly, a short squat thing made of logs, previously hidden by a line of trees. The windows were broken but the structure appeared strong. I was almost certain the sounds were coming from there.
The roof of the house was covered in silent unblinking crows.
There were two bodies near the door; one very old, and one new. The old one was stretched out full length as if running from the house, and the new one was slumped over in a chair on the small porch. They had the old faded burlap garments one would expect from poor villagers.
Karl broke the silence. "Hello?"
I stared at him then quickly refocused. Was he an idiot? You didn't ever give away your position like that! You should always make the horror movie bad guys work for it.
The sobbing cut off abruptly, but the whimpering continued. Then a new sound joined it; a mangled sort of yelling that made my blood run cold.
The crows all flapped their wings at once and cawed, the sound like a gravel-filled scream from a thousand throats.
I started focusing my power, and Pastor Collin's white glow drew my eye; I didn't let it distract me.
The bodies all around us, all standing up as the crows took off as one? That was distracting.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Thank you for the color commentary Matt, I'm aware the crows are diving on us. They broke off the shield I snapped into place. Well, most of them; two got through. Randolf knocked them out of the air with well-timed sword and shield blows.
The rest treated my shield as window; which was good since it was my strongest one and I couldn't keep it up forever. Then I realized they were coming at us in more than the directions my semi-circle was covering; Matt driving me to the ground with a yelled "Get down!" was my first clue.
Being squished by someone wearing mail hurt, and he almost brained me with the shield.
But his heart was in the right place since I felt the birds bouncing off it silently. If he hadn't held the shield up they would have been bouncing beak first off my unprotected face. A quick glance up showed the birds coming around for another pass, or cutting through my friends.
Then Pastor Collins got involved. "In the name of Minerva, be at peace!"
The rebuke spread in a radius, and bird bodies dropped like noxious hail when it hit them. There were still a few around, but their numbers were cut drastically.
That only left all the human zombies, currently closing in.
A ball of fire washed over my shield, incinerating more of the enemy. My shield held but faded; I'd lost the focus required to hold it, and it was destined to fail. The body on the porch stood up with a cackle I could hear.
Oh. So that was our necromancer.
"Thought you could hunt ole Enas, did you? Thought he wouldn't know? Well, these are my woods! Mine! And I always know!"
Why do they always talk? Yes, thank you crazy person, we know you're crazy. My lightning bolt lanced through the crowd and knocked him off the porch. He'd dodged the worst of it though, somehow; he wasn't jittery or seizing on the ground.
"Lady Minerva, protect us!" Pastor Collins yelled, holding his amulet aloft. The brilliance around it surged painfully, and the zombies who had been attempting to claw our front line apart staggered back, boiling and hissing like disgusting teakettles.
"Annoying." Enas spat, and a bar of pure darkness struck out from his hands to strike Pastor Collins in the chest; Collins went down like a stringless puppet, landing face first in a puddle.
"Matt!" I pointed with one hand, drawing my will in the other.
"On it!" He replied, and started over. Ethan was already there, however, having somehow crossed the distance fast enough to block the next wave of crows from attacking Pastor Collins directly. I left them to it.
Lightning didn't work, huh? We didn't need more fire. An elemental could work. Earth? No, Air. Much harder to spot and nuke.
The call formed in a hurry and I sent it, I could see the elemental form behind the figure of the necromancer, but I doubt anyone else could.
Then I dodged, avoiding a sickly purple beam that shot out from the necromancer's hands more on instinct on anything else. I was beginning to sense a trend here, spell-wise.
I was pretty sure I didn't want to get hit with a beam of any color.
Karl, Randolf, and Thomas were circling the wagons as the undead, no longer held at bay, closed in. Matt and Ethan had our rear, where the undead were already beginning to close in... it looked like their primary target was our cleric.
The good news was the necromancer had already thrown one fireball. if he could manage another we were sitting ducks, but while it was a spell most casters learned, it wasn't one most casters could spam.
The air elemental was a total surprise, apparently. It tore into him with reckless abandon, flinging him a good twenty feet, where I could swear I heard something snap.
I had to give him this much; he was a tough old bastard. He got up, screaming curses and obscenities, and started another chant.
It was then that the door burst open, and people started filing out of the cabin at a run. Living people, mostly kids. Running amongst the aggressive zombies and crows without a care - or as if something worse was chasing them.
"Have fun, shit stains! Chase me and they'll all die!" He then stepped through his conjured doorway, disappearing.
I knew the spell, and it had a low range; I scanned quickly and spotted the tell-tale flash. He had gone North; a direction was good enough for now. The zombies would follow their last command, and the last command was probably to kill everything living.
I sent a new command to the elemental, who was halfway into chasing the necromancer down. I was tempted to let that command ride, but I needed the firepower here.
I focused, relieved to see Pastor Collins sit up, and dropped a wall of fire around us. I left an opening in it, a doorway or threshold almost eight feet wide; wide enough not to burn, and easy enough to defend.
"Anyone alive who can hear my voice, please, come to the wall of fire! It has an opening, and you'll be safe inside!"
I said there was an entrance, but a few panicked people chose to disregard that part, instead focusing on safety. Pastor Collins healed them as we watched the zombies crackle and pop. Occasionally one would get too close to our 'door' and Ethan would shove it back, while the taller of our armored party focused on the remaining crows trying to hassle us. Between my air elemental and Thomas's arrows, we gave more than the illusion of safety.
Most of the survivors were in some kind of shock, with a thousand yard stare into the flames... or at a zombie or corpse that they no doubt recognized. A few were staring at the backs of our warriors, their expressions unreadable. A few of the kids were staring at me with open fascination.
The circle began to fill up uncomfortably as people trickled in. All in all, there were maybe two dozen villagers, and of those a dozen were kids. It was standing room only for awhile until the spell dropped... and the fires lost some intensity, but kept going. Perfect.
"Time to move, so I can do something about the fire."
Now that the spell wasn't maintained and the fire wasn't roaring, it was easy to hear the sobbing coming from those around us. We shuffled out, and I dumped my prepared water spell on the flames while I focused my elemental on starving the flames the necromancer had made.
I looked over to Pastor Collins. "You okay?"
He was gasping, but he nodded. "Yeah, whatever that thing used, it isn't permanent."
I knew what he'd used. a bolt of pure entropy designed to sap the life from a target. And he was lucky, yes it wasn't permanent; otherwise, he could have been debilitated for life. I had no idea what the green beam was, and had no desire to find out. I needed to read more, though; there was so much I didn't know.
A woman, her face caked in filth and covered in lines, grabbed me. "You must find the others! This isn't all of us, and my Adam is still out there!"
Phil and Thomas were already moving; I couldn't hold the air elemental anymore, but I could see people fleeing in a panic too.
"We're working on it, Ma'am." I shook myself loose and picked a direction the others hadn't. Matt backed me up. I was thankful for that since I was running low on power and there were still a few of the more confused sort of zombies running around.
"Wait!" Karl shouted, and we all stopped, looking back.
"Let's do this right. No splitting up. People, if you can, call your own, tell them it's safe now, or safer, where you are; it's unlikely they will believe us. If you're going off to track people down, buddy up, and buddy up with us; we can help protect you. If you get into trouble shout, and we'll move to assist you. Got it?"
A surprising number of heads nodded, the villagers seeming to find backbone they were missing before.
Karl clapped, the sound like the crack of a gunshot in the silence. "Alright, let's move; we've got lives to save."
It was the sniffling that gave it away; not the big racking sobs, but the quiet crying of someone who desperately wanted to keep it quiet. With my ears, it wasn't hard to pinpoint the source, which was up and to the left. I pointed to the tree; I could just make out a little hand clinging to the bark.
I stopped and waited as Mrs. Castillo, who squared her shoulders and adjusted her ratty shawl and stepped forward. "I think I recognize that voice. Ida honey, is that you?"
Mrs. Castillo worked in social services back before the event and was someone all the kids recognized. She all but demanded to come with me when she heard I was going South-East. That was where most of the kids had run... and likely the direction where the necromancer had run.
The aforementioned Ida shifted a little, revealing a girl coated in dirt and a ragged dress. She was clinging to the tree like a Koala, and the one foot I could see was covered in mud and more than a little blood.
Smart of her, to climb the tree. With the crows gone, the only undead who could get to her that we'd seen were the squirrels, and they seemed to have no standing orders the way the others had; I had led our small party right by two, and all they had done was watch as we went by.
I still nuked them of course; at the very least they were eyes and ears we did not need reporting in.
"Mrs. Castie is that you?" The girl who was probably Ida asked, almost as if she couldn't believe it.
"Yes honey, it's me. Come down, it's safe now."
The girl wasted little time, sliding down so quickly I winced; she had to be leaving skin up there.
I turned away from the scene, giving them privacy while I scanned our surroundings; some of the zombies had proven... sneaky, after a fashion. One of the villagers had gotten bit by a skeleton missing its legs, inching its way through the dead undergrowth on arms alone and all but impossible to spot. He was being treated by Pastor Collins and was expected to make a full recovery, but it stressed the need for vigilance.
A shout from Karl rose above the other shouts with an ease that I envied. "Lady Muse! Check in!"
"Still here and all is well!" I fired back. I was tempted to enhance my reply with magic, but I didn't have any to spare.
If the necromancer were to circle around, I'd need everything I had left. It was unlikely, but I had to concede the option.
"Heading farther East!" I shouted again, and took a drink of water from my skin, watching Ida watch me. I held it out with a small piece of trail bread and almost lost a hand.
Watching her guzzle started another slow burn of anger in me. That and a little concern; there was no way we had water for everyone or even all the kids. But I wasn't sure the water around here was safe to drink.
"Not so fast, you'll choke."
Ida nodded and continued guzzling. Mrs. Castillo cut that short when she grabbed the little tyke by the hand. "Alright, come on. Let's go find the others; did you see which way they went, Ida?"
Ida took a moment before replying. "I saw where Bobby went."
"Alright, which way did Bobby go?" Mrs. Castillo asked, much more patiently than me.
Ida pointed a direction out that was a little more North than I was originally willing to go. Mrs. Castillo hoisted her up, mindful of her feet. "Alright then, let's go. Help me call to him so he knows it's us, okay?"
Ida nodded. I followed behind but Matt moved up, taking the lead as quietly and quickly as he could with his sword exchanged for a small smith's hammer.
Mrs. Castillo was pretty strong; she carried Ida without complaint, bellowing louder than I was capable all the while, calling Bobby's name. Ida yelled for all she was worth, and when the first skeleton (a deer) responded to our approach she flinched.
Matt made short work of it, however; without any mass, a skeleton ramming into a mailed man wasn't going to get very far; and the hammer put the abomination down.
Neither Mrs. Castillo or I paused; she was confident in us now (or didn't want to show fear in front of the kids) and had to make sure nothing was lurking to take advantage.
There wasn't, and a hundred yards down in a hollow stump a face peeked out. "Is it gone?"
"Yes, it's gone. You can come out now, it's safe. Well, safer." I couldn't lie to the kid, after all.
Mrs. Castillo shot me a look as she adopted her soothing tone again. "What the nice lady means to say is, it's perfectly safe to come out for now Bobby. Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
Of course he was; none of the villagers had much food or water the last three days. At least he was more careful to avoid spilling than Ida had been. His feet were in better shape too.
We were now at the edge of ready support; if we went any further, we would be out of sight and much more vulnerable. "Any other children go this way, Bobby?"
Bobby looked at me with wide eyes; I was pretty sure I hadn't grown a second head or something, but he was making me second guess. Were they all going to be this mistrustful? If so my headache was only beginning.
Mrs. Castillo snapped him out of it. "Bobby! Did anyone go this way?"
"Only Mr. Peterson! That's the only one I saw, I swear! Ida took the only good tree and I had to run longer, so I found the stump and crawled in, and that deer thing tried to get me!"
Heh; that was some voice of authority there. I'd have to take lessons or something.
"Alright, which way did Mr. Peterson go?"
"Straight last I saw. Right past the stump."
"Fine, let's go find Mr. Peterson." Mrs. Castillo sounded angry. Volcanic, actually. Obviously, Mrs. Castillo would have words with Mr. Peterson when they met.
Unless Mr. Peterson couldn't talk anymore. Then Matt would speak to him.
Mr. Peterson wasn't actually that far; barely few football fields away. He was almost grossly overweight and leaning against a tree, panting. There was nothing threatening near him, which seemed odd to me. Why hadn't the deer followed him?
"Mr. Peterson."
"Mrs... Castillo." Mr, Peterson panted back.
"Is there any reason you left a child alone against a nightmare and ran away?"
Mr. Peterson and I both winced. Well, at least now I know why she was mad. "Mrs. Castillo - no. We don't have time for that. Save it for later."
Mrs. Castillo pursed her lips and frowned. "Fine. But there will come a time, Dan Peterson."
The now fully named Dan Peterson stepped warily over to us. He still had his shoes and all his clothes, which was different from most of the villagers; for some reason, most of them were half naked or in rags.
"Is there anyone else past you? Did you see anyone else coming this way?"
"...No."
Why was the man still panting, over an hour since the fight? If he had sprinted, how was this as far as he'd gotten?
Those questions weren't really important... but I didn't trust this guy to notice who else was around when he was running.
"Alright. Mrs. Castillo, Mr. Peterson... could you escort the kids back to the main group? They need medical attention."
We didn't have a stable camp; we were on the move. I'd argued against it, but after an hour of waiting, we were leaving the scene of carnage behind, a mass pyre in our wake.
I thought it unlikely the dead could be defiled again, but the villagers had been insistent. My sole contribution was to burn the cottage down for good measure, with all that was inside; five minutes of simply looking in the place had convinced me it was the better option. Even the bookcases - some knowledge was best buried. Or burned, in this case. And we had already announced where we were to everything around due to the previous fires. The fire shouldn't spread, but I was keeping an eye on it just in case. Truthfully after a look inside the cottage, I was sure the entire forest was a lost cause anyway; the taint, the corruption, was quick and total.
I'd still put it out if the fire got out of control, but fire might be the only thing that could purify this place.
Pastor Collins rushed over to Ida the moment he caught sight of her. "And who is this little cutie, hm?"
Way to sound pedo-bear there, Pastor Collins. Your bedside manner needed some work.
It didn't work for Ida, either; she just buried her face in Mrs. Castillo's sizable assets and dug in.
She looked up as the healing magic took hold though, and watched s her feet knitted themselves back together.
Mr. Busby, a shoe salesman turned cobbler, was ready with a pair of sandals for each child woven from the local dead grass. They were a little large and probably wouldn't hold together for very long, but they would protect their feet while they lasted.
All the children who could or could be healed would have to walk; we couldn't spare enough adults to carry them. We couldn't even spare the energy to heal all the adults, not that most of them wanted healing while there were children in need.
Ida tested them out while Bobby slipped his own on; his feet were made of sterner stuff.
Mr. Busby continued weaving; something he could do while walking apparently. Mrs. Donelson walked up and grabbed his large bundle of usable grasses.
The others were also grabbing bundles or makeshift weapons. Mostly rotten branches or corroded metal bars. Who knew where they managed to find those. A few had some butcher knives. We had shared of course; I had kept mine except for a few daggers that really wouldn't do anything against what we were fighting, but then again my sword and main dagger wouldn't really either; both were too light to bash bones and I needed something to fall back on since my available magic was low.
We formed up with Randolf and Karl in the lead with Pastor Collins behind them, the villagers in behind them, Phil on the right and Thom on the left, and Ethan, Matt, and I bringing up the rear. The armed villagers, male and female both, were mostly placing themselves on the sides and I appreciated the trust. Or what I perceived as trust. I chose to take it as trust anyway.
The group was bigger by at least twenty people than when I left, and most of those were kids, which made me feel instantly better about the danger we were all in.
As if the entire group didn't make noise enough (the giants had been quieter) every few steps some people appointed to the purpose would bellow the all clear and position check for the benefit of those still missing.
"How far North did you go?" I asked Ethan, more for something to talk about than anything else.
Ethan had been one of a few to go straight North, past the cottage in the search for survivors. Since our destination was the opposite direction, there was only so far people could go in that direction; we were all supposed to stay in sight of each other, but I'd not been able to see Ethan's group - which had been Ethan, Thomas, and Phil. All ghosts in their own right - or short.
"About a mile," Ethan admitted readily.
That put the group a good ten minutes or more out of range of help if something went wrong.
"I know that look. I had the scouts with me, and I can take care of myself. No need to worry."
Fine. "Did you find anyone?"
"Four lost souls, fumbling around in the woods. No children though."
"How did you fool Karl?"
"Thomas did something with his voice; pitched it so it would carry, even through the woods."
That was handy. I could probably do the same with my illusions, come to think of it. But not here; it was all kinds of bad idea to fool the living people like that here, much as I'd like to continue the search. If I had the juice I'd use an air elemental to find the missing; it would scare them half to death (and only that far, hopefully) to be sure... but they wouldn't be alone and in danger. Still in danger of course, but not facing it alone.
The woods were empty. Suspiciously so, now that we knew what they were full of. There were even fewer signs of life going in, now that the birds were gone. Of course, I was happy about that. At first, some few people answered the shouts and joined the trek, but other than looking them over to make sure they were dead and faking it, I stayed aloof. The trickle stopped at six (one man, three women, and two children) after the first hour's walk.
Hours later and miles away from the carnage people were beginning to murmur to each other; to slow down. To relax.
I wanted to yell at them, to tell them to focus up, that things may not be over yet, but I didn't really have the heart to. People who had already been pushed past normal endurance just didn't have anything left; only the adrenaline and healing had been keeping them going this long. Karl was in front, pushing things.
"Karl," Just a hint of magic carried my voice to him; I wasn't about to yell over everyone else yelling.
Karl turned and saw what I was seeing. "Right. alright everyone, take five; we camp here."
Randolf all but threw his gear down and tore his helmet off to reveal his reddened face, but didn't say a word. the others were a little more sympathetic; well openly so at any rate, regardless of their true feelings.
I went up to Karl. "How are we set for food?"
"We're out after this," Karl replied. "and there's precious little to go around as is. Not to mention nothing to hunt in this place. The necromancer didn't bother feeding any of them. At least he didn't take the food and water they managed to grab before being rounded up."
"And am I right in assuming water is the same?"
"Yes; we're screwed on water."
"Well, I can help on water, at least. But I'd like to borrow the more able of the villagers if possible. Give them something constructive to do."
"Why?"
I knew he'd looked, but how had he not seen? "Look at them a moment."
Karl cast his gaze back over the crowd again, and I knew this time he took in the dejection. "Point taken. As long as it's actually useful."
"It will be - just trust me a little here."
I went over to Mrs. Castillo; she would get things done with the right suggestion; she was one of few with her head up.
"Mrs. Castillo, can I ask you for a favor?"
"What do you need, Lady Muse?"
I pitched my voice to be just loud enough. "I'd like you and some able hands to help me with a project; it would certainly make me sleep easier tonight, and probably will help you all too."
"Oh, and what's that?" Perfect; not only was Mrs. Castillo intrigued, but many other heads were raised.
"I want to collect brush and build a deadfall around camp. The dead, well they aren't agile. A small sort of wall of branches and the like will not only give us warning in the night, but it may well trip them up too. And if we really need to, we can fire it."
"That...doesn't sound like a bad idea. But what if something else fires it?"
A good point. "I guess we build it far enough away that we won't get burned?"
"That sounds like a lot of work." Mrs. Castillo replied. There were a few nods around us.
"I plan on trying to do it myself, but that's why I'm asking for help."
"I'll help," Mrs. Castillo replied immediately and levered herself up. "But why not stakes or something similar?"
"The wood isn't good for it," I took a branch in hand and snapped it to demonstrate, the sound brittle and loud.
"But it makes a great alarm; I see. We can also spread a few branches like that past the deadfall; that would make stealth much harder."
"A good idea." I really should have thought of it.
Mrs. Castillo and I started gathering sticks and branches; the kids started helping immediately, throwing twigs at each other. Soon enough most of the villagers had joined in, and a sizable wall of sorts began taking shape. One of the adults, a larger man, even shouldered a small tree and knocked it over, then had to get some help dragging it back. When the singing started, I did my best to join in.
I didn't know the words, of course, it was some working song about farming.
We finished as the sun started to set, and I started on my next task. "Karl."
"Lady Muse." His tone was light and he seemed set to banter, but I could hear the tension underneath.
"I can't do anything about the food issue, but if you'll see that all the water skins and containers that could be used for that purpose are gathered together, I can fix that one."
"Pastor Collins has been communing... and he says he can fix the food and water issue. I'd rather you worked on a fire that won't rage out of control the moment we set it."
"Alright." A little disappointing, but he could do it I guessed."How big a fire?"
"A bonfire, if you can manage."
"Consider it done."
There was no rock to pile up, so I simply used some magic to pull bedrock up from under the dirt; sure it was temporary (The only reason I'd do it; I didn't really like the idea of long-term landscaping) but it would work well enough. Some of the bigger logs pulled in were devoted to the purpose of fuel for it, which I wasn't thrilled about but I saw the need for.
The chill of dusk was more than a lowering of the temperature after all. We needed the light. The humans most of all; they did not have the low light vision Ethan or I did.
A simple flint and steel were all the magic I needed; I watched the fire grow from something small into something as tall as I was. The villagers shuffled closer, hungry hands reaching for the flames. I found myself on the outer circle with Ethan, facing away from the flames, preserving our eyesight.
I tapped him, pointed to myself, and then to the other side. He nodded and stood a bit more straight, facing outward and scanning his side.
When I got to my side, I followed suit.
The sound of Pastor Collins calling to his goddess hit my ears over the general noise. I turned a bit just in time to see a full bakery of bread shimmer into existence on a spread cloth. Several crude clay pitchers of what appeared to be fresh water joined them a moment later.
I had to admit that was better than I could have managed. Not only was it food, but it was more water than I could manage quickly.
The kids were pressed into service to deliver the bread, a loaf per person. Ida brought mine over, her own hanging out of her mouth and her hands full. She was still chewing like a champ.
"Thank you, Ida."
"Mrghgh!" she replied and ran off to the next person, one of her own who was fine tuning the branch wall on this side; making it more treacherous.
One bite and I had to control myself to avoid spitting it out; the bread was bland and had a slightly bitter tang. Pastor Collins could make more food clearly, but he couldn't make it taste decently. Of course, that wasn't stopping the villagers from all but inhaling their portion down; it was a good thing Pastor Collins hadn't made more, they were risking making themselves sick as it was.
The water made the rounds too, and it was much better; sweet and pure, almost tasting as if it had been filtered. I made sure to fill up my canteen while Ida tapped her foot with her hands on her hips.
"Thank you again, Ida."
I could understand her this time. "You're welcome!"
Pastor Collins collapsed on a log beside me with a grunt; he looked tired - which meant he probably shouldn't be carrying around logs as chairs.
"The conjuring take that much out of you?" I had to ask; I thought his goddess took on the cost.
"Being able to work miracles, to ask and have your God or Goddess answer, let alone provide at all, takes some getting used to. But in this case, yes. Minerva offers some of her energy and the knowledge, but I provide the lion's share."
That made some sense. "Well then take a load off."
"I plan on it... but first I wanted to ask; why aren't you closer to the fire?"
"You're ex-military; you really need to ask that?"
"You can actually see then?"
I nodded. "Ethan and I both, though I think my vision is better than his. We're keeping watch as best we can. Though soon, we will probably both need sleep. Heck, we all will; we hiked and fought and searched and hiked some more. I do not envy the people drawing the short straw."
"Maybe it won't be necessary."
I turned as much as I could without ruining my night vision to stare in Pastor Collin's face directly.
He gave his best wry grin in response. "Yeah, I don't believe it either. The evil hasn't left these woods."
I couldn't argue with that and resumed my scan. "I'm going to bed down more or less here. No tent, just shake my bedroll out and siesta."
Far away from the fire, where I might be cold, but with a bedroll, I'd be less cold than the villagers would be here. I'd also be in a better position to do things without the worry of friendly fire.
"Sounds like a plan; I'll join you."
I tapped him on the leg. "I'd appreciate the company, but no. Please take the other side, near Ethan if you can swing it."
Having both spell casters near each other while waiting for an attack was the height of folly; not only could the attack come to the side of us that had no caster support, but if the necromancer was still out there, one dropped spell would take both Collins and I out.
Honestly, it had me worried. Pastor Collins was ex-military; where had his military mindset gone? Was he continuing to change? Were we all? I reached for my journal and wrote everything down as best I could remember, sparing nothing.
I finished and looked up to find Ida and Billy both silently watching me. Like any child, they had questions. The good news was their first question put my fears to rest before they could fully wake.
"Can you really write in this darkness?"
Full night had draped it's blanket across the sky for some time, yet with the firelight behind me, this much was easy.
"Yes, Could you read any of it?"
Billy shook his head, but Ida felt the need to explain. "No, but it's not that I can't read or anything. It was just too dark."
"Of course," I told her. I'd been sensitive about my reading skill once upon a time too when Matt and I were in elementary.
Billy stepped up after seeing that Ida hadn't gotten her head bitten off. "So what were you writing? Was it a spell? Are you really an elf?"
Oh right, these people had been missing for some time. They probably didn't even know the fate of their homes, come to think of it. Well, I wasn't going to be the one to tell them.
"It was a recollection of the day's events and my own memories, not a spell. And yes I do seem to be an elf. At least one version of an elf. I take it you didn't have any elves in your village after the event?"
"No," Billy answered, his eyes gleaming reflected firelight. "We were just us. And then that guy... he...."
"No need to get into that," I stopped him as gently as I could. "I know what happened, or well enough."
Billy sniffled a little but went silent. Of course, that was more because the other kids were now approaching. The small mass exodus garnered the attention of more than a few adults, but none of them moved to save me.
"Are you really a mage?" One asked; she was a blonde girl, bigger and older than Ida.
"I am."
See Sarah, I told you! She was the one who did the magic!" A dark haired boy said, limping up.
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Yes Giles, you did. You were right, she wasn't a warrior."
Wait, what was going on here? "You thought I was a warrior?"
"Well, you do have a fancy sword," Sarah answered. She had a point.
"But no armor." Another boy countered, glaring.
A boy so small he made Ida look big gave his opinion: "You're pretty."
"Um, thanks," Yes, this was rapidly descending into the awkward. "Alright kids, I know you all have questions and I don't mean to ignore you, but I think it's time to get some sleep."
"We don't want to sleep!" Giles complained.
"Yeah, can't you do some magic for us?" My smallest fan added.
"I didn't mean you all. I meant me; I've had a long day and I'm tired. I'll answer any question you have for me... in the morning."
I had to work to pull my bedroll out of my pack without giving away the nature of the bag; I had to wait until the kids were suitably distracted or one of them would sneak around and try it out and lose an arm or something.
Fortunately Mrs. Castillo provided a ready distraction. "Alright kids, you heard Lady Muse. Maybe you could ask Karl or Randolf about their exploits as warriors? I'm sure they have many good stories."
I laid my bedroll out. "At least one of them involves a dinosaur."
The exclamations were almost deafening. "A dinosaur!?!"
The little mass exodus was gone much faster than it arrived, all clamoring noisy for 'the dinosaur story'. I smirked as Karl got all but buried.
Ida had stayed, however. She ducked her head before asking: "Can I sleep with you?"
No idea why she wanted to do that. "That's not a good idea, Ida. If we get attacked out here, I'm a priority target, so being near me is dangerous. Besides, we don't have enough blankets for everyone, so you're going to need to stay close to the fire."
Ida had a pretty adorable pout, but she agreed readily enough. "Alright."
She also moved off closer to the fire... but plunked herself down as close to me as she felt she could get away with; right in a line between me and the fire. She was out of earshot, however.
Mrs. Castillo took advantage. "Is what you said just now true?"
"About me being a priority target? Yes, it is; the necromancer saw my face, and saw me cast magic to counter his."
"Then I owe you an apology. I thought you were keeping apart because we annoyed you."
I shrugged. "You don't owe me anything, but for the record right now I'm keeping watch. Which I won't be doing much longer; I need sleep badly."
I could admit a small bit of envy for the villagers; I didn't think I was weak or anything, but the stamina they had shown so far was astonishing. I could probably stay up longer myself, but I needed a recharge in the worst way.
"I understand," Mrs. Castillo said, and maybe she did. "I'll leave you to your rest then. Don't worry about a watch, your own party is quite skilled and on the job."
"I'm not really worried," I yawned out, laying down. "I just have better eyes than those guys."
I closed my better eyes as Mrs. Castillo got up to leave.
I opened them to an attack, signaled by the crunching of branches all around our camp. That was the first warning, but it was a good one. The second was Phil's shout of: "Up and at 'em!"
The fire was banked and I could see no sentries, only bodies in ragged clothes camped out on the uneven ground around the fire, just beginning to stir. I could not make out my companions at all, but for once I woke clear headed.
I rolled as the cracking got uncomfortably close, only to watch as what could only be the remains of a deer plow headfirst into the dirt next to my bedroll amidst the snapping of bones. My sword stroke took it's head off cleanly enough, and I turned toward the next victim, only to find there wasn't one.
The fire shrank some more as torches appeared. I had to squint at first, but those torches told the tale; small as the deadfall was, it was doing the job we built it for. All the dead, human and animal alike, were busy being trapped in the deadfall. They were still working towards us, but it was going to be easy to put them down permanently.
Well, all but the squirrels.
They weren't any more agile than their larger counterparts, but they were small and quick, able to dart in between the branches making up our obstacle and charge us almost completely without impediment - and there were hundreds of them. Possibly even thousands. Ida was the only person close enough to grab, (mainly because she had come closer to me when the attack started, rather than running away like a smart kid) so I did and held her close as the swarm closed in.
A quick spell and my control of air around me was focused and enhanced; I could now produce concentrated gusts of wind. Since the squirrels didn't weigh much, the small cyclone I placed around me swept the ones charging at me away before any of them could reach. Or you know, spit bugs on me or something.
Unfortunately, I couldn't do it for the entire camp. Pastor Collins was up and had his prayer or whatever it was already going, with the kids crowded around him. The rest of my companions and the villagers doing their best to respond were in trouble, however; my party was mostly unarmored for sleep, and the villagers didn't own any.
Should I fire the deadfall?
No, the squirrels were too fast, and there were still deer around; if even one managed to get through while burning they would stand a real chance of firing us in return. I hadn't really accounted for squirrels in numbers like this; how had the necromancer even managed this? Had he depopulated the entire forest by himself, and if so how? That would have taken far too long alone.
I didn't have enough juice to summon an elemental, even a weak one, and that wasn't what we needed here in any case. I couldn't pull another shield like I had this morning for the same reason.
Lightning was overkill, but it was my best bet; I knew how to fork it now, and I split it as much as possible.
It still exploded the crap out of all the squirrels hit, which was probably a good five dozen of them. Other than some wild hair, none of the villagers had been affected, and more to the point it had cleared them of vermin.
So I followed up with a mini-blizzard.
The cloud formed was no more than twenty feet across, and the range was barely enough to cover my side of camp, but the hail and sleet dropped destroyed anything that came in range utterly. Which was a good thing considering I was about out of energy again. I let Ida slide down as the wind dissipated; she had been clinging so tight my arm was numb. I joined her on the ground.
"Oof, you're heavy kiddo."
Ida didn't even acknowledge me; she was too busy staring at the snowstorm. I kept in range to grab her if she made a break for it - it wouldn't spare her any more than it would the squirrels who were still funneling into it with complete abandon.
Matt slammed down beside me. "You okay?"
"I was until you scared the shit out of me."
He batted a squirrel that had come from another direction to us into my storm. "Not like you to lay down on the job."
I pointed to the storm. "I'm tired. Let me catch my breath and I'll join you."
Matt nodded and turned to face a side. I levered up and took the other - just in time for the attack to be stymied completely as every visible squirrel in the camp just dropped and fell apart. I didn't see it, but I felt the surge of warmth and light flow that ended them flow through me and continue on to hit most of the larger undead.
Those left from that attack or purge or whatever it was, started shambling off in retreat as fast as possible. I didn't have the energy for a fireball, and if they scattered they could spread the fire and kill us, so even mundane fire probably wasn't the best idea... But that didn't stop mundane missiles from taking out as many as we can target. It won't stop little conjured bullets of air either from being effective either.
Thomas fired the first shot, but the rest of us weren't far behind. Even the villagers got in on the action, testing their throwing arms.
But none of us went into the woods to chase.
"Come on," Karl said. "Let's move."
Much as I wanted to, much as all of us did, no one objected.
A 2nd Generation Whateley Academy Story
Down the Rabbit Hole
by Nagrij
The saying is, when life hands you lemons, make lemonade. In the past year, I've been given enough lemons to start my own lemonade franchise; I could put minute maid out of business. Even now, here I was, bundled up in a gray hoodie that could double as a sleeping bag, burning up from the heat of it.
Yet I dared not take it off. If I did, someone might see. Or even worse, someone might see and recognize me. I was sort of famous, in much the same way that Hitler or the Menendez brothers were famous. Another good saying came to mind: “There is no such thing as bad publicity.”
That one is a lie. Publicity can be very bad. Waiting in a security line at an airport looking like a highly suspicious person was actually sort of preferable to being recognized. Perhaps if I was lucky I'd only have to show myself to security and the MCO, and could avoid the inevitable for once.
I really hoped so.
The line was so long, though, much like others along the way (who were incidentally giving me a wide berth, something I didn't find offensive in the least) I resorted to one of the worst mental exercises any member of humanity could engage in; the what if.
What if three months ago I'd done the right thing?
My mind starting laying out recent history, the better to determine where I could have halted the train wreck....
.......
The start of a new school year; I put my new freshman textbooks in my locker and started threading the sea of hormonal humanity. More than a few of the girls took... liberties. A lingering hand here or there for just a bit too long, mostly. Nothing a true gentleman would mention, at any rate.
“Hey, stud!”
There was the one I wanted to see. Jamie Howe. Hair the color of spun gold, eyes plucked from the depths of an aquamarine sea, and a body a mannequin might envy.
Her eyes never wavered from me as she strode up, threading the crowd herself like a pro.
“Boring first day, right? Can hardly wait to see how silly High school is going to be compared to middle school.”
“Well it won't be any harder, that's for sure. Seen the chemistry book yet? The first half is crap we already know.”
She mock groaned, then grabbed my arm.
“Come on, let's get out of here, I don't want stay in here any more than I need to; each minute carries the risk of becoming stupider.”
I had to laugh.
“Jamie, stupider isn't a word.”
She widened those wonderful eyes, then grinned and dragged me into a run.
“Oh crap, it's already starting! Come on!”
We hit the sunlight and she made a show of taking in a great breath, which did wonderful things for her chest. I noticed, and she pretended to not notice me noticing though the grin gave it away. The little minx. I decided now was the time.
“So, you doing anything fun tonight?”
“Nah, my parents are both home awaiting my glorious return with baited breath.”
That wasn't much of an exaggeration; I had known Jamie and her family for years now, and they spoiled her rotten. They were also very protective, which made my next step a risk. If I played this wrong I was destroying our friendship for nothing.
“Then how about we go see a movie? You pick.”
Normally I picked. Jamie was the romantic comedy type. No getting around it, even a dream girl could have flaws. She stared up at me (I'd grown a bit taller than she had over the summer).
“Why Lucas Del Bosque, some people might think that you were asking me out on a date. A date date, here in public and everything.”
Normally I'd deny the accusation and we'd continue as normal, do our thing, have fun and go home. Not today.
“Why Jamie Howe, I do believe I am.”
She stopped. Just stopped in her tracks so suddenly I'd feared she was having some sort of health problem. Then she turned to me woodenly, with jerky spastic movements. I knew it! I'd blown it, and she was going to turn me down. Tell me (like she had told everyone else) in no uncertain terms, to go away.
“You mean it?”
What? Not trusting words, I nodded.
“You really mean it? You and me on a real date?”
I nodded again, finding words now that I wasn't facing outright rejection.
“Yes, a movie followed by dinner and everything.”
Monty's was the little Italian place that Jamie loved eating at. She only got to go there once a year... on her birthday. Me, I preferred Greek. Now, I'd never put much stock in all those things I heard from other guys about the crazy things girls could do, and Jamie was one of the most down to earth people I knew. But she actually squealed in delight.
Slapping her hands over her mouth as her face reddened to beet levels, she looked around. So did I. The usual school crowd had gone silent and gathered around us like grade schoolers for a bully fight.
“OK gotta go get ready see you at the theater bye!”
It took me a second to decipher what she blurted out, during which time she was already gone.
Eric Wate, a large guy who I knew from gym walked up to me while I was a still a bit starstruck and clapped me on the shoulder.
“I think I speak for all of us guys when I say. Congratulations, you lucky bastard. You're the first one of us she hasn't shot down. That and can you share some of that luck with the rest of us?”
I looked up into his grin.
“It's just prayer and clean living Eric. Anyone can do it.”
He rolled his eyes.
“It's that hot Spanish look you have going for you man, all the girls here pine for you. Should have known Jamie did too, but you guys looked too firmly in the friend zone for anything like this to happen.”
“Well, surprised me. And cheer up Eric, there's always plastic surgery. I hear they can do wonders with that these days. Got to go, see you later.”
His smile answered mine as I waved. He knew I was just kidding, a mild relief. My motto was 'make love, not war'. Not that I'd done it yet, but there was always hope. Now I had to hurry home myself; I'd meant to just take Jamie directly to the movie and restaurant.
But she had to 'get ready' first. I didn't understand it; I'd already seen her a million times before; at her best and at her worst. So why bother even changing clothes?
.......
I caught a ghost of a smile on my face as the line moved, and I turned off memory lane. The good times... right before my world turned to a steaming pile of dog doo doo.
Now that I was a bit closer, I could see the hard looks the customs agents were giving me. The MCO agent was trying to peer under the hood, and the airport police looked nervous. It was beginning to look like they would simply pull me out of line, something I both half-dreaded and half-desired. At least it would expedite things.
The line moved again as an old grandma went through, only slightly furious as security had rifled her purse twice, and only spilled it once. A businessman was up next, perhaps a salesman in a slightly ill fitting gray suit. I let my mind drift again. If they pulled me out of line, then it happened.
........
Mom was waiting for me as I stepped into the door, shutting out the gloriously wonderful afternoon in favor of darkened inner spaces yet again (though at least this time, it wasn't the children's prison that school was). She was reading a magazine of some sort.
“So how was the first day?”
I snagged an apple as I answered.
“Even more boring than school normally is. The assembly was an hour of how we were adults now, and had to act like it, and the classes only covered the syllabus.”
I waited till she started to drink her tea.
“Oh, and I asked Jamie out.”
She spit it everywhere! Perfect. And the look she gave me was priceless. I threw her a hand towel with a smile.
“And what did she say?”
“She said yes, I'll be meeting her in about 30 minutes. That is, assuming you don't have anything for me to do?”
She waved me off with a smile. In her early forties, Estrella Del Bosque was still beautiful (or as beautiful as any mom could be). Yellow-tan skin a shade darker than my own belied her Spanish heritage, and dark brown hair in a short cut framing her face. Her nails were manicured, her figure was trim, and her manners were polished.
She worked as a freelance public relations agent. Which meant sometimes she was home far too much. I hadn't expected her home today.
“Then you better get ready. You can't wear that if she's changing, and you'd better not disappoint her.”
“Yes, Mom.”
I hurried up, taking the stairs two at a time, and burst into my room. What mom said, went. And while I had only wanted to drop my new books off, I would be a fool to argue with the woman who clothed and fed me. Not to mention paid me money to do things around the house, the next best thing I could do to earn money since summer had officially ended and I wasn't yet 16.
A dark red polo shirt and brand new jeans and I was back downstairs, apple back in hand (or mouth, more appropriately). Mom put her magazine down (some news magazine shipped from Spain; she liked to keep up with news from her homeland.) and made a twirling motion with a hand.
So I spun.
“Perfect; the mix of youthful lack of interest and importance to occasion. Have fun, and be back by 10.”
I waved on my way out.
“Sure thing, and of course it's right! I learned from a master after all!”
My mom had been teaching me the many ways to impress since dad left, after they immigrated. I was four. They didn't really keep in touch, but dad sent a Christmas card every year, and a birthday card to me every year. Sometimes it even arrived on the right day. Last I heard he was an accountant back in Spain.
I didn't know why he left, though the hints I'd had were that he preferred Spain to America. I'd never been to Spain, so I couldn't comment on it. At any rate, the first way to impress was to dress according to all those little, unwritten and seemingly arbitrary rules balancing popular culture and sanity.
The second was speech. My English was a bit better than hers and I could switch to proper English at any time... but my mom had other weapons. I'd learned Spanish, Greek, and Italian on her knee. I suspected she knew French and German as well.
Why she wasn't getting the big bucks as a U.N. translator I didn't know. I asked once, and she said if she was she wouldn't be able to live here. Here was, of course, Palo Madera California. A small suburb of Redding set into the forest, with Lassen National Forest just to the east.
The Redding area had a population of 91,000 and was pretty much the biggest town in the area, nestled between forests and National parks. (Shasta Trinity National Park was on the other side of Redding.) I had to admit it was beautiful country. Nice and running that balance between too small to be fun and too big to be safe, and busy versus isolated.
Maybe Spain didn't have anything as majestic. I didn't know and mom wouldn't say. I found it hard to believe though.
The local theater was a Cinemark branch which was odd in that it wasn't placed inside a mall or other such structure. It was just an old movie theater from the 60's or 70's, bought out by a big box company and refurbished into three small theater rooms with a big box, one size fits all feel. It made an interesting dichotomy, much like the area we lived in.
Jamie was not waiting for me, of course. I was five minutes early, and she would be five minutes late. Or more. The dating rules were very specific.
Just as I was doubting the option of setting my watch by her (or phone, who uses watches in 2015?) she arrived.
She had done something, without a doubt. Also in a different pair of jeans that were tighter than her usual, a light pink top that was covered in ruffles and bared her midriff, she was looking simply amazing. She had done something to her face; there had to be makeup there, but I couldn't really see it. What I couldn't see however, made her look like a movie star... or one of those, the almost disgustingly gorgeous heroes they sell posters of.
“Hello.”
It took a few tries to get the word out through my suddenly desert sand dry mouth. It was mildly comforting that her response seemed to take a few tries too, and for the same reason.
“Hey. So, what movie are we going to watch?”
“Not sure. Let's find out.”
I pretended not to notice the twitch in her cheek. So it was spur of the moment? Why would she be mad about that? I mean, it still counted as a date, right?
It turned out the only new movie in the theater (i.e. the only one we hadn't seen) was the new Jurassic park movie. I looked at her and shrugged. She looked at me and shrugged. We looked at the pimply faced gangly eighteen year old manning the theater and shrugged together. He rang us up and gave us our tickets. Of course, I paid.
I even did something that I almost never do at any movie anymore. I paid for a large tub of popcorn and two drinks. Which somehow cost as much as our dinner after the movie would be. But Jamie had a fondness for actual movie theater popcorn, too much salt and all. So it was mostly for her.
The movie started, after a good twenty minutes of ads and coming attractions. I didn't even bother disguising the whole “put my arm around the girl” move. A move I had considered using on Jamie before but never had the courage to complete. She didn't clock me for it.
She did, in fact snuggle a bit closer, which gave me a whiff of a rather light but heady scent I'd never smelled before. New perfume to go with the new make-up and clothes, no doubt.
The movie was simply another Jurassic Park movie. I must admit I wasn't giving it my full attention, but if you've seen cgi and animatronic dinosaurs kill one group of people, you really have seen all the movies of the type. Same movie, flashier special effects. The sort of movie you only remember when it's your first date.
I could wish it to be something more intellectually stimulating, but it is what it is. Finally having eyes for other people, I looked around. There were only a few people here, the movie had been running for a month already, and most of the people who wanted to see it already had. There were a few classmates I recognized, however.
Amy Milsner and Daniel Lorenzo, notably.
Amy and David were our resident golden couple. In middle school he was the basketball player with the golden 3-point shot, and she was the queen bee cheerleader. They both seemed well on their way to continuing the trend in high school. Amy had tried out for the cheer squad (such as it was) today, the very first day of school. David had had the school coach at his locker before he even put his first period books away in it.
Rumor had it that he might see scouts this year; talent scouts were beginning to rob the cradle in order to get to impressionable minds first. Luckily I didn't have to deal with that; there were no crazy scholastic quiz groups looking to recruit me for extreme spelling or trivia answering or whatever.
And while Jamie might take up track, chances were she wouldn't join the cheer squad. She hated Amy with a passion. I wasn't sure why; Jamie never said. I asked once after a particularly bad cat fight the two had, and she just hissed curses and ignored me.
I don't think I'd ever understand girls. If two guys have problems they can't talk out, we'd just beat on each other until we couldn't anymore. Then shake hands and walk away, agreeing to disagree. Girls didn't do that. I wasn't too sure I wanted to know how they handled their problems with each other.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Jamie had noticed my lapse of attention. It would be suicide to tell her I was thinking about her feud with Amy. I wasn't that crazy.
“Was just thinking that so far this date doesn't feel all that different from what we normally do... which means I'm going to have to try harder.”
She'd been about to punch me for the first half of my statement when her brain caught up to the second part. Her eyes widened as I gathered her up, lifting her off the ground carefully, and kissed her. I had to let up when I started seeing spots.
From the look of her, Jamie was having trouble breathing too, but she was very reluctant to break it up. Not bad for our first kiss. Jamie summed it up nicely.
“...Well.”
Well indeed.
“On to food! I don't know about you, but I'm starving.”
“Of course, I haven't had anything since that crap mockingly called a lunch at school; that will teach me, tomorrow I make my own.”
I couldn't resist.
“You mean the large tub of popcorn you pretty much ate alone doesn't count?”
She smacked me in the arm with a smile.
“Of course not! Popcorn never counts.”
“I'll have to remember that.”
Monty's was a run down little place that tried very hard to look like a trendy bistro when it opened... in the 90's. It had a sort of dilapidated retro hipster vibe that might have gone over well in New York or San Francisco. But for all of that, the food was great. The owner, Monty, was actually an immigrant from Italy who trained as a chef there.
He, mom, and I all had quite a bit in common. He loved talking to my mom about the 'old country' and Spain, both places they had shared. He was a friendly yet small and dumpy looking man in his late forties, balding and ruddy faced. Mom often laughed that he looked like an ugly Danny DeVito. He laughed along.
I felt they needed to date too, but Monty just laughed when I suggested it. Worst that could happen is she says no, right?
I honestly thought I wouldn't understand adults either. Even when I became one. Mom told me eventually it would all make sense, but I think she was pulling my chain. She was forever coming home, complaining that her clients made no sense at all. A few situations she even explained to me; they didn't make sense to me either.
Why would anyone, for example, hire a public relations agent then give a press conference without them? It seemed a common story... was it just a status thing among the elite? I shrugged; they paid well at least; my college fund was pretty well set.
We finally got seated, Monty's was always busy. I avoided an elbow in the ribs for woolgathering only due to Jamie's own distraction. That seemed ominous.
“Anything wrong?”
“I thought you said this was spontaneous. We only had to wait on the hostess.”
Well, I should have known she'd catch that. I couldn't even lie and say I knew Monty; we all did. He was a local fixture.
“Well, I never did come right out and say it was spontaneous. You merely assumed it. I've been thinking about asking you out for six months. The time just seemed right today. Well, that and Monty wouldn't be too mad if I made reservations and didn't show.”
“Oh?”
I nodded as we sat in a nice out of the way booth.
“Yeah, Monty really does like me. All I'd have to do is explain what a gutless wonder I was for not asking you out and apologize. He wouldn't hold a grudge.”
Jamie nodded and gave me a critical once over.
“Now that I believe, everyone likes you. And the pitiful act always scores points with anyone not made of stone.”
“Even better if it isn't an act.”
We were interrupted when the waitress came to take our order. I didn't even wince as Jamie ordered the most expensive thing on the menu.
..........
I scrubbed a tear from my eye into the hood of my hoodie as the line once again started to move, angry. How could something that started so beautifully end so horribly? That was the question I had asked myself day after day. Even knowing the world was unfair, the question just seemed to loom, larger than life in my head. It demanded an answer.
Of course, I had no answer for it. I really hoped a good answer existed; I didn't like the one my mind was coming up with.
It seemed as if the MCO agent was finally going to pull me out. I had half hoped he would just do a quick check, but it seemed as if that was just wishful thinking.
“Excuse me, ma'am, could you come with me please?”
The MCO agent, an older man not much larger than I was with a battered but pleasant face framed by light brown hair setting off hazel eyes. He was dressed in a very well made but unfortunately brown suit, with a white shirt and cream colored tie, both of which I suspected to be silk.
The two large burly guys, both cast from the same blond haired possibly blue eyed bodybuilder mold, standing Goliath tall to my meager David. They were standing exactly one step behind the agent in charge, to the right and left respectively.
They weren't necessary. I wouldn't cause any trouble. I couldn't, even if I wanted to.
The MCO agent led the way, the two flunkies a looming presence behind me as I followed. Against my will, I started remembering the tales of the MCO that my mentor had told me secondhand. It was all too easy to believe them when being led around like this; but if I were on the other side, wouldn't I want help in case an evil mutant decided to go crazy?
Of course I would. If I had had some help on that night, then life would be better for so many people, myself included. All the same, I had one hand on my new phone, caressing the panic button toggle installed in it.
A precaution my mentor had pressed unwillingly into my hand, but I was thankful for it now, being led into a small nondescript conference room. It was decorated in tan carpet and fake wood molding; the agent seemed to be very much a piece with the place. There were two chairs, one on either side of the table, both wood and plastic.
The room reminded me so much of the police interrogation room in Palo Medara that I had to fight the deja vu... and the unpleasant feelings.
The two goons got impatient, and guided me gently, but firmly, to the other chair. I was now facing the agent and facing away from them and the door. It did not do much for my nerves.
“Alright, MID?”
I took it out of my wallet (inside my hoodie pocket, my mentor had wanted me to use a purse but I didn't really see the point) and slid it over, pulling my hood down so that the agent could get a good glimpse of me. He would ask or have it done anyway, there was no sense fighting it.
“Ahh, Lapin. Your destination is Boston, via New York?"
I nodded, trying to keep my ears down. They kept wanting to stretch. Having your ears kink like the muscles in your back, and wanting to stretch was beyond annoying. But I didn't want to draw attention to them.
A hopeless effort, to be sure. The damn things were huge. They reached my shoulder blades when folded down, and I could stretch fit my hand into one... though thankfully not lengthwise.
The Agent reached under the table and brought out a file. A quick glance told me it was mine, with my real name on it.
“I'm sorry, I forgot to give you my name. I'm agent Donnely. I'll be using your code name, as we're being filmed. I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, agent Berkowitz?”
I couldn't help it, the relief of some of the stress made my stupid ears pop up though I managed to stop them from going completely vertical.
“You know agent Berkowitz?”
He nodded with a smile.
“He trained me. We used to work the field office in L.A. together. So let's see... it says here you have a set of gadgets as equipment?”
I nodded, ears safely down again.
“Yes, my ears are sensitive. The gadgets are clips that attach to them and dampen or cancel noise.”
“May I see one?”
He had his hand out. For all that it was a polite question, it seemed I would just have to bear with it.
“Alright.”
A quick click on the latch of the one on my right ear and it came right off. I winced a bit as I started hearing the planes taking off. Apparently we weren't as far from the tarmac as I'd thought. Or my ears were getting worse, which really didn't even bear thinking about.
Agent Donnely took my clip, and scanned it with a hand-held detector, also pulled from under the table. What did he have under there? I thought maybe just a small file cabinet at first. But there had to be more....
“Alright, that's all I need. Thank you.”
He passed the clip back, and I wasted no time putting it back in place.
“Now, I really hate to do this... but we need to perform a search.”
He held up his hands in a hurry.
“No, none of us will be doing it. My partner, Agent Lyons, Will be doing it. Normally we would just scan you with one of the new airport scanners, but this is Redding, and we don't have the resources of a full blown city.”
My quick glance at the hand-held scanner was caught.
“That isn't the airports, it's ours. We haven't been granted the authority to install our own technology in airports from the courts yet. The best I can do is this hand-held unit, and it lacks the power to do a full scan. Rest assured, agent Lyons is a professional.”
Whatever. I really didn't think I dared refuse. Though that panic button was looking better and better.
“Um, could we please hurry this up at least? I really don't want to miss my flight.”
He stood up.
“Certainly, I'll send her right in. For obvious legal reasons, we can't be present for this, so we'll just wait outside.”
Translation: you start anything, and we will be ready to bust you. Message received, loud and clear. Vaguely threatening, but still very polite. Just like normal airport security nowadays, according to the internet. So far it was nothing like the horror stories told online of the MCO. I hoped it stayed that way.
The woman who walked in after the other 3 walked out was the very picture of a 'battle-ax'. A middle-aged woman who looked as if she sucked lemons all day. Her hair was the color of dishwater, and her eyes matched.
She was built like a body builder and probably six feet tall; the sharp gray silk suit she wore (with pants, not a skirt) looked too small on her. As if she could, with a quick flex, rip her clothes like the hulk. She was carrying in a screen, of all things. One of those unfolding screens that women used to change clothes behind for privacy.
She took one look at me and transformed with a smile. The sour look became a rather cute face if a little stress lined. Her body did not change, and yet somehow seemed less threatening. Body language perhaps? Her voice was a bit scratchy but had a low sultry tone that many women would envy.
She stopped as soon as she closed the door and gave me a once over.
“Well. Typical. Still, it could be worse. At least, you aren't a beach Barbie.”
I blushed. I knew what she was talking about; one of the few powers I'd gained from my life being ruined was one I never wanted. Somewhere out there, there were at least a few guys having wet dreams... and those wet dreams looked like me.
“Alright alright missie, behind the screen and take off your clothes. We don't want to give the cameras a free show, but you don't have anything I haven't seen before.”
“Nothing at all?”
I flicked my tail to make my point. To my surprise, she nodded with a smile.
“Nothing. I've seen both the spade shape you have, and the cotton tail. You aren't as rare a BIT as you think you are.”
Through the relief, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. That my BIT wasn't rare meant that many people thought it was the most attractive they could be, inhuman features and all. My mentor certainly had. Maybe I would even meet more at my new school.
I could only hope they didn't suffer all the problems of my, or my mentor's, Body Image Template. Meeting another mutant that did would likely be a disaster.
Once behind the screen, I made it as quick as possible. I had a slight hesitation at the underwear, but with agent Lyons looking at me expectantly I realized this was going to be the full treatment. She looked over my clothes for knives or something while I stood there, waiting and getting cold. I was just settling into the idea of being probed in unpleasant ways when she spoke with unfeigned cheer:
“Alright, we're done.”
“What? You're not going to...”
She shook her head, grinning at my shock.
“I don't really want to do that sort of thing, any more than you want it done. No one can see what goes on behind the screen here, so let's just agree I gave you a thorough check and leave it at that? You aren't silly enough to try and blow up a plane you're on with c4 smuggled someplace unpleasant, are you?”
I shook my head, trying and failing to force my grin down. She pointed to my silver crucifix.
“Right, a proper catholic. Go ahead and dress. I have to watch; regulations being what they are, but I can do that from over here.”
And she actually propped herself in the nearest corner, humming and rather pointedly looking at anything but me. For my part, I dressed just as quickly. There was no clock in the room; a management decision designed to keep complaints about time wasted by the airlines down, no doubt.
“May I ask you what time it is?”
She actually looked at a watch she was wearing. A rare person, to still use one of those.
“You've got about 15 minutes.”
Crap!
Despite my rush, I helped her fold up the screen. It was the polite thing to do after all, and they wouldn't let me run to my plane in any case. That would just set off all kinds of red flags. My luggage was waiting on me, in agent Donnely's hands. I just nodded at him. I knew he would have to search it, but I had nothing incriminating and nothing really embarrassing to hide. I was sure he'd seen underwear before in his line of work, after all. Even the ones my mentor had insisted in giving me.
“Don't worry, we put everything back the way it was! We aren't like the sky cops!”
To my surprise, Agent Donnely took off, jogging at a brisk pace down the hall. He motioned me to follow.
“We have less than 15 minutes to get you halfway across the airport and to your plane before it takes off. With crowds being what they are, we better hurry.”
I caught up rather easily; the one thing I had gained out of my recent disasters, was inhuman speed. And agility; dodging people in crowds was easy. A quick glance back showed things one and two still behind me, keeping pace easily themselves. They also managed to avoid people, mainly because people parted for them like the red sea for Moses. Agent Donnely and I just lacked that sort of presence.
It was mildly odd that two big guys could keep up with us, though; I had to wonder if their suits hid some sort of secret.
The airport wasn't that large, luckily. With Agent Donnely expediting things for airport security, we managed to make it just as final boarding was called. My bags checked I turned to Agent Donnely from inside the jetway (I didn't want to give him the chance to change his mind).
“Thank you.”
I knew he was only doing his job, and it could have been much worse.
“You're welcome. Enjoy your flight.”
I waved and walked past the vapidly smiling stewardess. I was in seat 49 – economy class, but a window seat. Something I was thankful for. The flight was long, and I wanted a view. This was my first time flying, after all.
Well, flying in a plane, at any rate; the other way I was usually too busy panicking and screaming to look around. Hopefully this way would be different. The people in the plane were too busy settling in to pay much attention to me, luckily enough. I was getting sick of being stared at already.
Unluckily, since I was so late the seats to the side of mine were already filled, which meant I would be disturbing some people. The aisle seat was taken by a rather well-built guy around college age, sporting a UCLA jacket, and a matching cap worn in reverse.
He was raven haired like me, with dark blue eyes and a chiseled chin. I guess he was kind of handsome if you liked the dopey frat guy look.
The middle seat was taken by a man in a well-tailored business suit, in shades of gray. He had blonde hair just starting to whiten up, and surprisingly boyish looks for his obvious age. He also had a briefcase in his lap and a phone in his hand. I think one of the stewardesses had just told him to hang it up, judging by the sour expression.
My soon to be seatmates were both looking up at me curiously, and the angle they had let them see at least a little of my face. That meant I had to be very careful when putting up my carry on; I didn't want to dislodge my hood or raise the bottom of the hoodie up far enough to reveal my stupid tail.
“Excuse me please.”
Luggage handled and etiquette handled, I had to work my way to my seat... with my butt towards the seats in front of us, for the same reason. The frat boy kept trying to peek under the hood but I don't think he saw much.
I was pretty sure from the look of shock that the businessman saw more than I had, strictly speaking, wanted him to. He recovered quickly enough, opening his laptop after I passed and very carefully sat down. If not for the glances he was shooting my way as the plane got battened down to take off, I would have said he was over it. He certainly acted nonchalant, but I was a trifle too observant for that to work anymore.
I was all too used to those types of glances now. The type that all but shouted 'is she dangerous?' or 'should I yell for help?'
If I thought it would help, I'd wear a sign that just read “no, not dangerous”. Knowing my luck, people would just suspect it to be a trick. Disguising myself as much as I possibly could seemed the wiser course.
But of course, that only worked as long as no one got close enough. I turned to look out the window, not wanting to see the wary caution (or worse, the blatant disgust) creep over another face like a poisonous mold.
With a jolt the plane started to move, the cracked tarmac rolling under it in a blur. Only nine hours to go until Boston. Each minute ticking past seemed like an eternity.
............
Agent Donnely sipped at some truly nasty coffee as he watched the plane take off with his partner, agent Lyons, and their boss.
“Well?”
That one was directed at him.
“The bug is planted. The offices along her route have all been called. They are playing ball.”
“Good. The last thing we need is for her to get pulled from her flight path and disappear. She's too valuable to us at the moment, what with the truly abysmal publicity, some of the other offices have garnered lately. We want the reporters waiting for her to hear nothing but glowing reports of us.”
That was a bit confusing.
“Will there be reporters present? I thought the press vultures were done picking over this particular carcass.”
“Of course there will; I called them after all. It'll make a good story for them, and a better one for us... provided it isn't botched. Lyons?”
Her report was much what his would have been.
“She's a good kid. It's a shame what happened to her. But her opinion of us is unshaken. She views us as a professional arm of authority. Allowing Berkowitz to handle her case has paid dividends.”
The boss cleared his throat and sipped his own coffee, a much better blend than Donnely's.
“Yes, Berkowitz is a fool, but a useful one. His honesty can make things very easy for us when used correctly. “
Donnely nodded, remembering L.A. The boss spoke up again, derailing that train of thought.
“But what I was really asking is, how is she?”
Lyons thought back.
“She's still in shock. She's a kid that respects authority, very rare nowadays. But even past that she never even made a peep when Donnely proposed the strip search. That's pretty rare among Americans. She also went along with my own suggestions readily enough, though she almost demanded I search her to prove her innocence. She's still naive enough to be useful.”
The boss nodded.
“Whateley might even be good for her.”
Lyons turned to him, astonished. Donnely knew the boss better.
“Sir?”
“What Lyons? I can still hope she gets the help she needs, even as we use her. The two objectives are not mutually exclusive. Whateley is one of the best places in the country for her.”
He rounded on Lyons.
“Berkowitz may be a fool, but he was right about one thing. Despite her appearance, she's one of ours done very wrong. Yes, we can use that. Yes, we will use that. We owe it to humanity to get the word out, But that's no reason to deny her such a life as she can make. There but for the grace of God, after all.”
Donnely noticed that Lyons look of chastisement was fake, but he didn't think the boss knew. It didn't matter anyway, Lyons was in this up to her neck already. She wouldn't compromise the plan. The boss then ignored them both in favor of looking at the scans from the new machine set in the hallway leading to the MCO's conference room, where they conducted their searches.
The scan showed no hidden weapons or explosives, no drugs or other contraband of any kind. Just the phone they already knew she carried; a gift from her somewhat unfortunate mentor in Redding.
Better safe than sorry, though, after all. They weren't the only ones trying to use the poor girl.
...........
It took less than twenty minutes for me to be bored to tears by the view from the plane's window seat. The only thing I had on me was my phone. Sure it could double as a small movie theater or music player... but I only had one movie on it, that I'd seen more than once, and my music would hardly divert me.
I needed a book. I had planned to bring one from the airport, but I simply hadn't had the time to buy one. I blamed Ibby, and would tell her so the moment I could text. Mainly because there wasn't much else to do.
I tried not to pry by staring at what the businessman was doing on his laptop, opened again as soon as he had been given the all clear. It was pretty hard though. Being bored sucked. With nothing else to do I took out my phone.
It had started out its life as a Galaxy 4, but it only barely resembled one now. For one, it looked to be made of metal, not plastic. And thick metal at that; it had the heft one would expect of a paperweight. Ibby had said it was made for flying brick use when I asked. It also had a large red oblong button set clearly on its left side.
It was Ibby's older phone and on her network. For all that, it was not standard and therefore as good as any phone currently on the market. Or at least, that's what her nerd friend had attempted to tell me. I didn't really care; it had been better than the phone I had been using, which hadn't survived the first panicked flight I had been dragged on.
I texted: “Made it, in the air and headed to JFK.” I used full words, hating that alphabet soup most people turned texts into. Who cares if it takes longer if you don't have to explain to someone on the other end what it all means? Explanations always take longer.
An icon popped up, a bunny girl strolling across the screen with a wave. Then the answer came:
“Good. Call me again when you reach New York, or if there's trouble.”
I knew how busy she was, but there was more than a hint of the idea that she'd drop it all to help as best she could. I really liked Ibby, despite her nature. I liked her so much I refused to call her that ridiculous name the public knew her by, even if she'd picked it herself.
It was even worse than mine, and I'd done the best I could. I will never understand the '70's for as long as I live. It was almost as incomprehensible as adults... or girls.
Damn it to hell. Why can't I move on? Why can't I just stop thinking about it, about her? What was wrong with me?
Needing to distract myself before the waterworks started again, I glanced over to see what my seatmates were doing. The frat boy was watching a netbook, thankfully with very good noise canceling headphones on, and the businessman. He was watching me, with frank interest. On his laptop was a copy of the chronicle, from about two months ago. I recognized it. Mainly because I was on the front page, in my new form, with no disguise. Stupid floppy ears and pain both visible for the entire world to see.
“That's you, isn't it? I mean, you're her, aren't you? I mean...”
I decided to bail him out before he could dig deeper.
“Yes, that's me. Could you please not tell anyone you recognized me? I'm trying to avoid trouble.”
He pondered that for a moment, before a calculating look I didn't like stole over his face. It made him look kind of like the vampire in that old German movie, only with hair.
“I will if you do one thing for me.”
Oh, this couldn't be good.
“What's that?”
He waved at his computer.
“Tell me the truth. What really happened?”
If I remembered the Chronicle right, it was basically way off in its reporting of the situation; and that's if I wanted to be generous. They basically lied, like the rag they were, after telling my mom they would tell the truth.
As for this guy, I'd met his type before. Ghouls, always sniffing around for the closets where the skeletons were buried. They made perfect paparazzi or celebrity headhunters, having an instinct for digging up dirt and a nose for blood. At least, this one didn't have a camera. With luck, he wasn't a professional at it.
Now the Times, oddly enough, got it right the first time and stuck with it.
“Well, it didn't happen like the Chronicle said, that's for sure. I wasn't doing anything shady. It's a long story. Really long, are you sure you want to...?”
He nodded.
“If you would. I'm sorry, but I'm curious. And we have nothing but time. I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you my life story if you tell me yours. Then we will be even.”
“I'm not sure I...”
“Please. I'd just like to hear your side of the story, without any spin. Please.”
Well, the worst that could happen if I told him was he'd listen to me, hear the truth, and then blame me anyway. He wouldn't be the first, and likely wouldn't be the last. I always thought the truth was its own shield before all this. But it turns out that the truth is always the first casualty of any situation. The first casualty of life itself.
“Well, the Chronicle got it wrong; I didn't do anything to her. It all started when....”
.............
Jamie was sick.
We'd been going out for months, strictly slow and steady. Her father Flynn seemed to like me, despite the old gun polishing trick he pulled after our first date. The impact of that maneuver was diminished somewhat by the fact that he and I had known each other for years and got along. I didn't begrudge him the attempt, though, he'd probably been dreaming of pulling that trick since Jamie was in diapers.
Jamie's father Flynn was a careworn looking man; average height and bald, he had eyebrows like caterpillars creeping across his face. He dutifully worked out every week in his garage; sometimes I joined him. He was still just barely fit. He worked long hours.
Jamie's mom Sydney looked much like you expected a trophy wife to look; blond and fit, attractive and younger; the only problem is she was an art dealer for the local museum. She made more money than he did, and they loved each other.
Jamie's mom Sydney was in the background, wringing her hands. The quietly proud father Flynn, a man I knew and liked, had the door cracked but his body against it, denying me entry. Both had expressions of worry that were doing nothing to ease my mind.
“She's still too ill, Luke. She just can't have guests.”
She had been too sick for school or guests for three days. She still wasn't in a hospital. Something was very wrong here.
“Mr. Howe, I understand and will accept that she might be contagious. If I get sick, it's my own fault. But this is the third time. Mom and I are both very worried, and we will take the risk. I won't be leaving this time without seeing her. I will not.”
And I shifted, leaning up against the door jamb.
Mr. Howe sighed and nodded, opening the door.
The inside was like something from the twilight zone.
The Howe home was much like my own family's; upper middle class, with tasteful (if a bit more ostentatious) furnishings and in good repair. Usually it was a little messy, as Mrs. Howe was not the most scrupulous housekeeper.
Tonight it was spotless. Everything gleamed, from the floor up. I felt almost guilty stepping on it. The smell of cleansers and antiseptics hit like a physical blow a single step inside. Mrs. Howe had a bucket in hand, rubber gloves on, and had obviously been cleaning when I knocked.
The mix of whatever she was using was slightly orange colored... and clean except for that taint. It was not the source of the smell, which seemed to come from all sides.
Mr. Howe up close was just as shocking, he could overpower the cleanser smell himself. Disheveled and slightly shaky, his clothes were stained with spilled coffee and looked slept in. It was obvious he hadn't showered in days.
Whatever it meant, I couldn't be good. I hit the stairs two at a time without a word.
I couldn't stop a slight hesitation upon reaching Jamie's door, however. What if she was asleep... or really didn't want to see me?
Stupid, then she could just tell me so herself.
A soft knock in case she really was asleep, and it was answered almost immediately.
“Go away dad, I don't want to hear whatever bullshit you want to spew at me today.”
What? Jamie was hardly the most polite or reverent girl (a fact I knew and loved from experience) but she wasn't normally angry enough to spout such venom at her parents. Especially her father; she was very much a 'daddy's girl'.
“Jamie? It's Luke.”
The door was flung open and Jamie stood there, staring as if not quite believing her eyes. She was a mess; her hair tangled and unwashed, old tear tracks still visible, especially around eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Those self-same eyes that were no longer the deep aquamarine I lost myself in on many an occasion.
Her bloodshot eyes were an almost neon amber. I was fairly sure they weren't contacts; it explained so very much.
“So... I was told you were sick. How are you?”
Yes it was lame; it was the best I could do. Suddenly realizing your girlfriend was a mutant is shocking. More shocking than a random punch to the gut. I've felt that too, there is no comparison. She looked into my eyes for a moment, tears forming like sparkling dew. What she saw seemed to open the floodgates; she almost knocked me over in her haste to crush me in a hug. And it was fairly crushing.
“Jamie, ease up a little, OK? I can't breathe. Let's go into your room and talk, alright?”
Mr. and Mrs. Howe were at the staircase listening, and normally I wouldn't suggest such a thing in their presence. But something more than a mutation happened here, and I wanted to know what. They didn't object as Jamie led me into her room.
I was beginning to get the picture I think, and it wasn't a picture I liked. With a last glare, Jamie closed the door on her parents and turned to me. She looked lost. I did not like that look at all.
“So what's with the twilight zone out there?”
“Well, I'm a mutant.”
“Yeah, and?”
She looked at me, mouth agape. I decided to move the conversation along.
“So, was the whole line about you being sick a lie?”
She shook her head with more than a touch of exasperation.
“No, I was sick a few days ago; flu like symptoms... then my eyes changed. Doctor Hubbard confirmed I was mutant yesterday.”
Hmm, confirmation implied something other than an eye change happened.
“So you displayed a power of some sort?”
Wordlessly she handed over her Ipod. It was a mess; at least twice as big as a standard one, it had some sort of housing hanging off of it. I couldn't even begin to guess, so I had to ask.
“What's it do?”
“Well it's not an Ipod anymore, at least not fully. The addition pulls power from neighboring power lines to recharge the battery wirelessly.”
She saw the look I couldn't quite hide.
“I know, but apparently it's a real mutant power and everything. Dr. Hubbard called me a “devisor”. Which is a fancy way of saying I build weird things, apparently.”
I knew what devisors were. I was sort of glad Jamie didn't seem to. They did not have the best reputation.
“So when do you get tested?”
She plopped on the bed with a smile. I could tell she was happy I wasn't outright rejecting her – as if I could – but she was also pretty spent by the stress of it all. It made me want to march downstairs and lecture her parents. That picture I didn't like was getting more clear by the minute.
“In three more days. That was the earliest they could take me. Apparently while the local office has the facilities for testing, they don't have a dedicated specialist on the payroll. Too small for that. So one is driving up.”
The local office she referred to was the MCO. Around here, the MCO was called in at the request of the police to handle the cases of processing emerging mutants. They handled the testing and issuing of MID's, and worked with the police on cases involving mutants.
It was a well known fact that the MCO agents had no police powers themselves, and needed a police partner or escort in order to make arrests; Redding police issued that statement yearly in a public press release, and it hadn't changed in recent memory. Any mutant individuals which disappeared, criminal or not, would have the case of their disappearance investigated to the maximum extent the law allowed. I could quote that part from memory.
And it was suddenly pertinent.
“Do you need someone to go with you?”
It would be on a Saturday, after all. That look of pure gratitude she hit me with made me feel guilty, as if I had done something wrong. It also laced her voice pretty heavily when she spoke. A sort of fawning needy tone that had no place coming from her as she shot up again, taking both my hands in hers.
“Would you? Can you?”
I nodded.
“Sure, I don't think mom would mind. If necessary, I'm sure she'll drive us.”
That is, if your parents won't.
“I don't know, I'll have to ask.”
“I don't think that will be necessary, but I'd appreciate it if you did ask, just in case. So, um... what's been going on at school in by absence?”
And now she seemed almost... shy? I had to wrack my brain a little; I didn't really try to keep up with the politics. I led her over to her bed and gently sat her down, taking a seat myself next to her.
“Nothing much really. Rhonda took the gold in the track meet against Oakwood the other day. Doug Hawser, remember him? Well a couple joints got found in his locker; he's saying he was framed, but he's been suspended pending a hearing and investigation. That's about it.”
She stared at me wide-eyed. She also stared at where my hands were, wide-eyed. They were only on her shoulders, I didn't think I was moving too fast or anything! I certainly wouldn't dream of doing anything with her while her parents were listening on the other side of the door.
“You're not.....”
“Not what?”
She looked away, suddenly shy for the first time in her life.
“Tell me. What is it?”
I wouldn't be stupid enough to ask what was wrong; we both knew that already.
“You're not... afraid of me. Or disgusted, or anything....”
I should be offended, I really should. But what I am is confused. Doesn't she of all my peers, know me best? She should know me well enough by now to tell herself the truth of who I was.
“Why would I be? You're Jamie Howe, my girlfriend. You are as human as I am, and you aren't going to hurt anyone. As for disgust, what is there to be disgusted about? You aren't spewing slime out of every orifice or eating small fuzzy animals. And I'm pretty sure I'd love you even if you were.”
She was stronger than I remembered. The bed creaked alarmingly as she sidelined me into it, and I felt my ribs shift a bit. I managed to keep the grimace off my face with effort though. It wouldn't do to let her see that.
“You... Luke, you're an amazing human being, you know that, right?”
I shook my head with a grin.
“Don't tell me that, my head will get bigger than that super villain guy, what's his name? Gray Matter?”
“That guy is a devisor, like me.”
Her face was a bit troubled again. This would not do at all.
“Oh, does he fit as well in that bikini you wore to the beach last summer? I think not. Advantage, yours.”
She smacked me playfully in the arm, and I was pretty sure it would bruise. Unlike the hug of death, however, that was normal.
“Lech.”
“Only for you. Only for you.”
It was hard to make jokes with Jamie's tongue in my mouth. I almost tried before my own brain caught up to what we were doing.
“Alright Luke, you've made your point. You better get out of here before I do something my parents will make us regret.”
Taking the cue for what it was, her desire to be alone and think, I headed to the door. She didn't make that easy. I had to ask though,
“You'll be coming to school again, right?”
She grimaced.
“I think so, starting Monday. That is, unless there is a reason I shouldn't. I should be cleared, but if the testing reveals something else I may not be.”
Left unspoken was the kind of response she'd get in the area. If she got a lot of crap for being a mutant she and her family would likely have to move, or do something similar. That would not be good for anyone.
I wasn't an angry sort by nature, but if some H1 type retard wanted to start something, I would make that person very sorry they existed.
Walking outside into the street past her still gawking parents pissed me off more; hopefully they would get a clue. She was their daughter! The same person they raised; late genetic expression during puberty did not change that. Again, I had to stomp on the desire to give them a piece (or more) of my mind.
Their actions could only be hurting Jamie. They needed to wake up soon. It wasn't really my place to say, but maybe my mother could. She was a fellow adult, friend of the Howe's, and her words would have the weight that my own would lack. She after all, had dealt with mutants before; some of her clients were mutants.
She never brought any home, or let me meet them, but she never outright ranted against them either. If it turns out she had a hidden mutantphobia, I'd deal with her too.
A short walk to clear my head and I had the chance to ask her directly. She was on the couch, watching some meaningless cop drama or another that I had never gotten into, popcorn and a diet Pepsi on the coffee table in front of her. So I walked in without preamble and shot the question point blank; best way to get an honest response.
“Mom, how do you feel about mutants?”
I'd never asked her before; it hadn't been that important to either of us, so we just sort of ignored it. And just as expected of a verbal landmine, she tried her best to dodge the question in true parent fashion.
“Why do you ask?”
“No you don't; no dodging. Answer the question before asking one of your own. I'll answer yours after you answer mine.”
She shot me an arch look, raised eyebrow and all, but relented.
“Well I've met a few, there are quite a few mutants who come to me for image advice. I've met good ones, and bad ones. My own opinion is that they are people, with just a few extras that can make them more dangerous. I try to treat them as such.”
Now I was curious.
“Have any of the bad ones tried to do bad things to you? Like threaten you over your fees and stuff?”
“Attack a PR consultant? Are you crazy? Even if they killed me I would make them very sorry, and they know that. It's really no worse than working for the Italians.”
Mom means the mob here, I'm sure... though she never comes right out and says so. I also know she means the actual Italian mafia, in Italy and Spain. She certainly did not do work for them here, or she would have told me. I wasn't a fan of how nonchalantly she spoke of one of them killing her though.
“So your turn.”
I plopped down on the couch next to her.
“Turns out Jamie is one.”
And contact! The landmine went off! It took a minute for her to fully process what I was saying, then her response was gratifying. At least, in a way.
“...Oh. Whew, I thought you were going to say you were one. I wasn't looking forward to that fiery nature of yours burning down the house or something similar. Do they know which kind she is? What powers she has?”
“A devisor, she says. A type of mutant that builds things.”
She didn't even hesitate; I guess she really did have some experience with mutants.
“That's a bit rough, I've dealt with devisors before. Some of them are a little... off. You planning to continue your relationship?”
Counter landmine detonated.
“Of course! How could you even think I wouldn't? She needs me now more than ever.”
For the second time tonight, I was wrapped in a hug, though this one was less... predatory. What is it with females and hugs? Was there a hug gene somewhere in our DNA that made women more touchy-feely?
“I'm proud of you, Luke. It's times like these that I remember I raised you right.”
Well of course she did.
“Apples and trees, Mom. But that reminds me, you need to have a word with the Howes. Tell them what to expect, and that sort of thing. They like you and know about your job, so they will be more likely to listen to you.”
Once again, she got to the heart of the matter with just a glance.
“How bad?”
“They are avoiding her, and haven't let her go to school. They did call the MCO however, and have an appointment for powers testing on Saturday. Mrs Howe has probably been cleaning mostly non-stop the last 3 days, and if Mr Howe has showered at all, I'm Joan of Arc.”
“Wow... that's... bad. Alright, you can relax, I'll take care of it.”
And just like that, while still standing over me her gaze started to cut like jagged glass.
“But you, I know what you're thinking. I'll handle it, you will go to school tomorrow, and do your homework, and all your chores tomorrow. Only then will you be allowed to go see Jamie. If I find out you cut something, and lied to me about it, your punishment will be something ballads are made from. Got me?”
“I got you, I got you. I promise, I'll do everything first.”
I could cut a few corners... after all my GPA was perfect, so a few sloppy assignments wouldn't do me in. And if I did tomorrows chores today then I'd be done already. The perfect crime! Of course I still had to do tonight's. Dishes first, right after dinner itself, which I had missed.
Luckily mom was pretty lax about that, missing more than a few herself, so she just made me a plate and put things away. I could microwave it whenever I got home. In this case dinner was still warm however, so I skipped that.
.......
I took a moment to flag a stewardess down and ask for a diet Pepsi. I had already done more than my fair share of talking, and had my audience of one in rapt attention, but my throat was beginning to suffer for it, even as softly as I was speaking.
The way the office type was leaning forward, I could tell either that he was having a hard time hearing me, or was hanging on my every word. Maybe it was both.
Well, my therapist had recommended talking about this, even to random strangers on a long flight. I didn't understand it, but when psychologists agree that talking about my crappy life to anyone who shows even a particle of interest; who was I to argue?
It didn't make it any easier... but talking things out to this man felt good. Natural. I would have suspected he was a mutant himself except the MCO had never pulled him out of line; he was ahead of me until my own bout with the MCO and airport security, and they had let him right on through.
It was more than a little confusing though; the compulsion to tell a complete stranger more of your life than anyone else knew. I seemed to remember reading something about such bonding on planes before, but actually experiencing it was... weird. And the cathartic release and hairline break in my normally iron control made me very nervous. I hope I hadn't been slipped something, somewhere.
Or worse, my meds were no longer working.
That really didn't bear thinking about. Especially on a plane. So I didn't, another long drink to make sure of the throat and I dove right back in.
...........
On Saturday I woke early. Today was the day we found out if Jamie was a dangerous threat to humanity or not. I had been to her house every day since finding out, and often stayed late. Anything I could do to help ease her stress.
Her parents had finally seemed to realize the world hadn’t ended; they were getting a little better each day, and seemed less inclined to shut Jamie up in her room than before. I never asked why they did it, and they didn't tell me, but that ended the day after I told mom.
She actually took time off from her job in order to go to their house and talk to them. It only took an hour, and I don't know what she said, but while still a little twitchy, they stopped acting like pod people. Well, mostly. I still wasn't ready to cut them any slack... they are parents, they should know better. But mom ironically enough had raised me right, so I was too polite to say so to their face. Well at least since the problem was solved.
They had recovered enough to drive her to her appointment at least; mom had offered and the Howes had declined. They hadn't even made a peep when I said I was going though. They knew I'd given my word, they had been listening in. Which meant that even if I had to follow on my bike, an old off-road trail bicycle I never rode anymore, I would.
Of course I wouldn't need to; mom would get in her car and drive me; we would follow them the entire way, and they knew that. I was still a little worried that they would try to leave early and therefore leave me behind. So I was up.
I just wish I knew what they were afraid of.
Afraid for their daughter, now aligned against H1 and the more rabid people in the world... or afraid of their daughter, who was now one of the few but empowered? Maybe it was both at once? But that was really ridiculous.
For whatever reason, I felt they didn't want me to know anything about the new Jamie. Like they were trying to keep us apart. I would not accept that, we had been steady too long, had been best friends since mom and I moved from Providence far before that, and I wouldn't take no for an answer.
Dressing was easy, all weekend clothes; old jeans and a T-shirt, a jacket just in case; it was likely to get a little chilly. I was not the only one up, or the first. Mom was at the kitchen table in her ratty gray robe, reading the file of a client of hers, coffee steaming in front of her. She had the most amusing bed head going on. Pointing that out was something I'd do... once I had a head start out the door.
The appointment was for nine sharp, and it required a drive into Redding proper which took about forty minutes. Which meant to be polite, I should show up just slightly after 8am. It was just now 6am, and I was anticipating knocking on Jamie's door by 7.
Some Raisin Bran and a Pepsi were the breakfast of champions. I didn't want to waste time with ham and eggs... mom already had, but hadn't made me any. A curious loophole in our 'whenever meal schedule remained breakfast on the weekends. At least she no longer griped about my substitution of Pepsi in place of the juice she favored.
At least, not after the time I used one instead of milk on my cereal. That had really disturbed her. It wasn't even good, but I had been making a statement. Besides, I didn't mess with her coffee; everyone knew how bad that crap was for you!
The blind eye I turned towards her Twinkies stash was probably a help too. How she could like those was something harder to understand than the coffee.
I put the dishes in the sink and went up to brush my teeth. Only the ones you want to keep, right? A few brush strokes through my hair and I was ready to go. With far too long left to wait.
So I took out the garbage out. A day early, but who cared? We had metal cans to keep the critters from getting into the trash so it was no problem. Then I did the morning's dishes... all 8 of them. Then I vacuumed the living room carpet, complete with moving the furniture. Mom would likely yell at me otherwise.
“Luke.”
Right on time. Did she see me skip the little end table?
“Yeah, Mom?”
“Stop, seriously. Just watching you is giving me hives. Just sit down and watch TV or something normal for a bit.”
I checked the clock again. Still about a half hour. But TV sucked. Of course, all my homework was done last night, even that essay. Whoever heard of a 500 word essay? That's like... a blurb. Literally just a few paragraphs.
Cartoons, cartoons, cartoons... hey. A political discussion. This one on mutants in politics. With a round table discussion no less. A democrat, a Republican, a Libertarian, some MCO official or other, and the token H1 nut-job. The H1 nut-job managed to clean up the best in an expensive suit and slicked back hair, but I wasn't fooled.
So, no doubt like many people tuning in, I waited for the inevitable blow up. As usual the Republican started it with a simple observation.
“An American born mutant is a human being and a citizen of the United States. As such, any hypothetical mutant that meets the requirements can run for and hold office. That's the law. If you want to keep a mutant from holding office, then work on changing the law, not picketing polling places or engaging in strong arm tactics.”
All that said in a calm reasonable tone of voice, as if he wasn't lobbing a verbal Molotov into a metaphorical theater.
As the H1 nut started to froth at the mouth and scream, I turned it off. It was time, or close enough. I made sure to grab a book, just in case. You could never tell when you would need a good book, and I expected to do a fair amount of waiting.
A quick thought and I brought one for Jamie too. She wouldn't remember, and she might have to wait as well. Mom came in but didn't look interested in the TV, so I left it off, grabbed my phone from the small table beside the door, and left.
The morning air was more bracing than chilly; which meant that in an hour or two it would be a bit hot for a jacket. I was still glad I brought one; my books were small enough to fit in the pockets. With my phone in my front pocket it meant my hands were free.
My battered bike was wobbly, and riding it hands-free was taking your life into your hands. In a few months though, mom had all but promised me a car of my choice outright. Well, nothing new, but any used car I wanted. I don't think she wanted to risk me cracking up a brand new one.
I was going to sneak in a sports car, provided she chose her words wrong. I really wanted a Porsche of some kind, like an old Boxter or something. Until then, I could make do with my bike. I couldn't wait for the end of a waste of time spent biking, and greater freedom.
You needed some kind of transport here; while the area was urban, it was urban in only the loosest sense of the word; houses were somewhat secluded from each other here, and the forests beyond were in everyone's backyard. You could go a mile in some cases without seeing another dwelling.
Wait, why was Rex Davies in front of the Howe house? He was clearly staring at it...from across the street, and behind a bush. Not readily visible from the house itself.
Rex was a rising tennis star, fit and with an athletic medium build, topped off by blond hair and blue eyes. I liked him normally, we hung out in a few of the same circles. I was a bit bigger than he was, and I knew he was nervous around such people; I would use that today. Because I was fairly sure I wouldn't like whatever he was doing.
His focus on the house was ironclad... he ignored me pedaling up.
“What are you doing Rex?”
He looked at me, and a blow to my estimation of his intelligence, he didn't immediately turn around and run.
“Oh, I'm trying to get a glimpse of Jamie. Rumor has it she mutated, and I want to see what she looks like now.”
And another few notches down. Rex was almost as intelligent as a similarly named dog now by my own reckoning.
“Just... go home Rex. Just go home. Before I'm forced to do something we will both regret.”
He finally realized who he was talking to.
“Um... right. I'll just be going.”
He decided he needed exercise, jogging away.
And just in time too, the front door opened, and the object of his weird voyeurism was standing there, a vision of harried loveliness staring down the street. The moment our eyes met she motioned me inside. I checked the street then walked over, walking my bike. It wouldn't do to get hit after all, for all that the traffic on this road was always light.
I had a feeling that for a little while, the traffic would increase.
“You're checking for me kind of early.”
She pulled me inside and shut the door with a slam.
“My parents are driving me nuts, and I thought they were going to leave without you.”
I replied perhaps a little louder than I needed to, but I wanted to make sure her parents would hear.
“Don't be silly, they both know that wouldn't stop me. How are you this fine morning?”
I knew how she was of course; it was obvious.
“Nervous of course. I don't want to do this.”
I hugged her close and she did not object. Neither did her parents, who entered the room together with a hesitation normally reserved for meeting ax murderers.
“It'll be fine, relax. Have you had breakfast yet?”
She gave a small tight nod, catching sight of her parents mincing in. They were dressed in their Sunday best a day early; a really expensive black suit for Mr. Howe that managed to make him look like a mini version of Lurch from the Adam's family. I had to suppress the urge to ask who had died.
Mrs. Howe made me suppress a giggle however. A skirt suit for Mrs. Howe was the order of the day. A skirt suit in an unfortunate shade of dark red. With stripes. The non-slimming kind. I was far too polite to tell her she looked like a lumpy barber's pole... but I thought it very hard, with Jamie catching the look and rolling her now lovely amber eyes at me.
Jamie saved me.
“Yes we've all had breakfast. Eggs and Spam.”
I mock threw up at her. Eggs were fine, but mixing them with that mystery meat that was one step down from high school cafeteria mystery meat? Why ruin perfectly good eggs that way? She smacked me on the arm.
“Quiet you, it's good.”
There is something to be said for them all eating a common thing together. Maybe there was hope for them all yet. I still didn't like how skittish they were however. It was as if Jamie was wearing a bomb vest or something.
At least they were getting better.
Mr. Howe cleared his throat.
“Well, now that we're all here, we can get going. Shall we?”
Mrs. Howe was really slipping. Normally she'd at least ask me if I had breakfast myself; now she just led the way from the house; I could just make out the big gulp of air that had been her sole noise so far.
The drive over was boring and awkward. We had all seen the same trees, houses and wildlife many times over, but I at least was too worried to read my book. From the looks and stiff posture, Jamie was as on edge as I was. I handed her the book I brought for her and she smiled. Then I tried to set an example, even if I didn't turn a single page the entire time. At least I don't think she noticed.
We were there just in time for the office to open. It was a rather small strip mall style building up front, cheap paintings and all. It looked much like my dentist's office, complete with the waiting room. After Jamie gave her name to the receptionist, a pleasant looking young lady who looked to be the victim of a hangover, we all sat down.
I had seen the appointment book; we were the only ones on it, at least for the morning hours.
The reason why we had to wait with our anxieties eating us alive became clear a moment later, when another car pulled into the nearly empty parking lot. It was a dark later model sedan with a bubble light on top. The man stepping from the driver's side was thin almost to the point of skeletal, and wore a black suit that seemed a size too big for him. A fedora, also black, was perched on his stringy white coated head. He was old and wrinkled, but moved with a spry speed that left me blinking.
The one getting out of the passenger side was a bit more normal; just a man in a doctor's coat, black haired and unremarkable. Perhaps in his early 30's, though I doubted it. He had the sort of fresh faced look one sees with new college kids.
So this had to be the tester... and his escort? He wasn't a cop, and I wasn't going to....
No sooner did they reach the door than a police cruiser, one of our new ones, pulled up and two officers got out. I had been wondering what kept them. I didn't recognize either, but they had the crew-cut look with chiseled features, uniforms that I could see the creases in from here.
The vibe of confidence was also easy to spot. And with them here I could breathe easy... right after I checked something.
They both wasted no time at all, all but charging to the door. They were both at it before the man in the fedora could be more than properly through it. He raised an eyebrow at their antics.
I just got my phone out.
They walked up to the Howe's, who had all stood up. The lab coated guy and old man both had genuine smiles on their faces, and outstretched hands.
“Hello, I'm Dr. Paige and this is my associate agent Berkowitz.”
Mr. Howe answered. He didn't sound too nervous, which was a neat trick.
“I'm Flynn Howe, this is my wife Sydney, and my daughter Jamie.”
It didn't take long for them to look my way, so I answered the unspoken question.
“Lucas Del Bosque. Pleased to meet you.”
Dr Paige had a sweaty palm, but agent Berkowitz had a strong dry grip. He also looked me directly in the eye.
One of the cops cleared his throat.
“I'm officer Trask, my partner is officer Stahl. We're here to make sure there are no... incidents during this testing.”
Mr Howe just nodded, but I had my phone prepped.
“Badge numbers please, officers?”
A mild look of surprise and respect, but they both rattled them off with no hesitation. Trask was 328 and Stahl was 329. Kind of odd. Did they graduate in the same class or something? Was that even how it worked?
I phoned it in, my hand and forefinger up in the universal one moment gesture. If they tried to go anywhere before I had my answers I would be tackling somebody.
“Redding police force; how may I help you?”
“Yes, can you do me a favor and call officer Trask, badge number 328 for me please?”
“May I ask what this is regarding, sir?”
“I'm trying to confirm that the officers in front of me is in fact officers Trask and Stahl of the Redding P.D.”
United States citizens are allowed to question the identity of police officers, and even call in complaints while being arrested. I just wanted to make sure these two were actually ours.
“One moment, sir.”
It was a long moment, but we all waited. It was obvious doctor Paige wanted to get going, but agent Berkowitz was cool as a cucumber.
I was almost to the point of foot tapping when officer Trask's radio squeaked to life. I could hear the call connect over my phone.
“Officer Trask, come in.”
He made a show of answering his radio.
“Trask here.”
“Trask, what's your 20?”
Again, I could hear it through my phone. I wiggled it and mouthed good enough.
“Staring at the kid that just called you, at the testing center.”
The receptionist? Fellow officer? Whoever, she came back on the phone.
“Does that satisfy you, sir?”
“Yes ma'am, thank you.”
I hung up and turned to the officers.
“Sorry officers, I just had to make sure.”
Officer Trask waved his hand as if at an annoying fly.
“Think nothing of it, Mr. Del Bosque. In fact, I'd rather you checked. We don't mind at all.”
I grinned, turning to agent Berkowitz.
“That's good to hear, because I'm not done quite yet.”
With a matching smile, he handed over his card. The number on it matched the number Jamie's parents had called to make the appointment, and google had revealed it as legit. The only difference was his card had an extension.
I called it.
“Good morning, Mutant Commision Office, Redding branch.”
The receptionist had picked up. This office couldn't be some weird plant, as the MCO office had been here for years. Everyone knew it. Agent Berkowitz motioned for me to keep the card as I went to hand it back, the congenial grin still on his face as he asked:
“Good enough?”
I handed the card back and walked over.
“Excuse me miss? Do you recognize that man?”
She looked up from her magazine confused, her gum popping in her mouth.
“Yes sir, that's Agent Berkowitz, our field agent. He was out picking up Dr. Paige.”
I turned to the assembled group.
“Good enough. Sorry, I had to make sure.”
And Jamie's parents were too nervous and overwhelmed to. They wouldn't think of it until after any such disappearance on her part.
Doctor Paige couldn't contain himself anymore.
“Alright then, now that we are proven to be who we say we are, how about we get started? This way, Miss Howe. Mr. Howe, Mrs. Howe you may follow agent Berkowitz to the control room with the officers to oversee the process.”
I started back too, following the group, when officer Stahl stopped me.
“Sorry kid, only family beyond this point. It's a law.”
Deflated, I sat back down. Jamie looked like she wanted to protest so I told her:
“Don't worry; I'll be right here till you get back. Wild horses and all.”
She nodded and I eased back, grabbing my book. I had the feeling it would be a long wait.
.........
I took another drink of my Pepsi, draining it. The guy was watching me, silently. The frat type was beginning to notice something was up between us, though he hadn't cared enough to start snooping. Which was good.
“So you two were close then.”
My seatmate said finally, his eyes unreadable for all this his body language screamed sympathy. I responded more out of a sense of needing to fill the silence than anything else.
“Yes, we were close.”
“I must say, you're not at all like you're portrayed in the news. At least some of the news. It might be better for you if you conducted some interviews.”
I shook my head. That's what mom had said too, but it hadn't worked out.
“No, after they butchered the first one by editing it to death I refused. The networks aren't interested in the truth.”
Just in vilifying me for ratings. He made a dismissive gesture and leaned back; clear signs of disbelief.
“Surely there must be a few?”
I hadn't found any, and I told him so.
“The closest to getting it right was Fox news. Even they screwed up a few points, but they got the gist correct.”
And isn't that just scary in and of itself? The idea that you might just be able to trust Fox news, of all things, with telling something closer to the truth than their peers?
He agreed with me on that point at least with a full body shudder, whether he knew it or not. Then I could see the shrewdness sweep over him like the creeping darkness over the moon in those recent big budget space movies.
“That's pretty bad. Yes I can see why you wouldn't want to risk interviews. So, you both are getting along, she did not 'get disappeared'... and then what?”
I heard the question underneath: 'If you didn't do it, how could she possibly get soured on you months later?'
I had to fidget some before I could settle back with a sigh. My tail was just large enough to make me uncomfortable if I sat on it wrong. Just big enough to be nearly impossible to hide and a complete pain in the butt, pun intended. But not big enough to give any special balance powers or be prehensile or any other really cool thing.
If I wanted to be really awkward, I could hold it out straight and balance a Pepsi on it... the extent of my powers. Well that and being in good shape. Nothing a human couldn't achieve, but I didn't need to work at it. The stupid ears increased my hearing, but without the clips in them to moderate the sound I'd more than likely end up deaf. And they were even harder to hide than the tail.
It wasn't even close to being worth the cost. I could have changed into Champion or Superman himself and it wouldn't have been enough.
“Well then she went back to school on Monday....”
............
I had read most of my book before she was done, and the sun was now streaming into the western facing windows. They had fed the Howes, but hadn't spared a second thought about me. And even with a food court nearby, I wasn't about to go anywhere.
I had just been... forgotten about. So I used that in order to grab a seat and move it into view of both the front and back entrances. I wasn't even sure where they had gone to test her, but they hadn't left.
The receptionist hadn't even looked up. Not even once. I was tempted to open the door and make it chime just to make her do something.
And then Jamie breezed out of what I had taken to be a basic examination room, and therefore way too small to hold any sort of real physical tests in and latched on to me, yanking me up.
“Come on, come on, let's go, let's get out of here!”
“Everything alright?”
If they hurt her....
“Everything is fine, I just want out of here. Like, right now. I'll explain in the car, on the ride home.”
The doctor and agent came out, following Jamie's parents who were in no less of a hurry. The officers brought up the rear, thumbs in their belts, which was something I approved. Jamie all but dragged me out to the car, much to the amusement of everyone else. Even the lazy receptionist.
Then we were safely in the car and on the way home, the officers shadowing us. The MCO types went a different route, I assume back to L.A., or a hotel or something. As long as they stayed away.
The official verdict had been Devisor 2. She had apparently dodged a bullet there; devisors were prone to a sort of megalomania induced by the mutation itself, called “Diedricks” after the first one noticed to be afflicted. Or so says the internet, who knows how accurate that was.
The good news was that Jamie appeared to have none of the triggers for the disease. She wouldn't tell me how they tested her for it, but I could guess. I also guessed that if she did tell me, I'd have to find out a way to commit the perfect crime.
There was apparently an entire mostly unused complex under that strip mall dentist's office. According to Jamie it was the size of two of our gyms, and had all types of strange equipment. Doctor Paige had sent her into a dusty bathroom to get changed into a bodysuit, then run her through her paces. She was still mad about the ping pong ball somehow fired at high velocity at the back of her head.
Something about checking for esper powers.
She was also worked half to death there. Forced to pump iron and run a treadmill and other more mundane things. She was mainly angry that she hadn't gotten a true physical upgrade. I could read it in her tone; she very much wanted to be one of the 'faster, stronger, better' types.
I got the feeling it was mainly a case of too pretty superhero jealousy.
That was an honest affliction for most women, and worse for girls. At least, that was what mom told me. What it really was, was a version of model jealousy; where a female is jealous of another set of female's looks, like young kids are angry and jealous about the bodies of super models, and insecure in their own.
For someone as beautiful as Jamie, it was just ridiculous.
But I couldn't really tell her that. I had tried before, but my words in that particular arena just never took. I didn't understand it, and when asked to explain it in more depth, mom just said it was a girl thing. The only thing I could do was tell her how beautiful she was, and hope that one day she would get the point.
I personally felt most exemplar women were overcompensating for something. And what would happen to them when society's views on beauty finally changed? It had happened before. In Greek and Roman times the only women considered truly beautiful had been ones we would consider as overweight.
It secretly amused me to think that the next crop of 'super-hot' women could be closer to Rosie O-Donnell than Jessica Alba. Though I wouldn't deny Jessica Alba was super hot... and all without being an exemplar.
Having an actress mutate would be big news for at least a week, and every American would know. I hadn't received any such memo. Not that I'd really care if I had; life was too short and if it wasn't other people starving in the streets or dying from disease it wasn't a non-personal problem I could get behind.
“What are you thinking about?”
I looked over and met Jamie's wonderful new eyes, currently clouded with a certain suspicion. Uh-oh. I think she knows. I couldn't even lie to her; it just wasn't an option.
“How you look like Jessica Alba?”
She smacked me on the arm.
“Liar. I don't look a thing like Jessica Alba.”
Hey, she really didn't, but that was the best I could come up with. I wasn't suicidal enough to point out her little jealousy problem. Well only one thing to say; the right thing. I made a show of studying her, just long enough to make her a little uncomfortable with the process, then pounced.
“You're right; you look better.”
Then I totally aced her by kissing her nose.
Her mental reboot took awhile, and I allowed myself a little smug look.
Then she punched me in the arm again. I think I'm going to have to start wearing armor there or something; that spot is beginning to get a little tender.
I wish I had a camera, her face was as red as a tomato.
I handed her her book again. I didn't ask to see her new mutant identification card, and she didn't offer. At least this time we both got some actual reading done. At her house, I headed towards my bike.
“Sorry, I can't stay. The plan tomorrow is still for you to come over for lunch, right?”
She nodded.
“Right. I'll be there.”
I would like to stay and talk to her in private, to get more detail on these tests. But first thing was first. I had to go check in with mom. After all, I wasn't the only one worried about the MCO or vague threats. I couldn't quite insult the Howe's by making such a check in call in front of them. (“Yeah mom, we're on our way back, the Howe's didn't sell Jamie out to the MCO.”)
And making a check in call in the den of the enemy was a good way to end up choked out by ninja or special forces. I'd seen those old '80s movies.
Luckily enough for Rex, he wasn't here. If he had been waiting for his glimpse again I might well have been less forgiving. I wasted no time cycling back. Mom was in the front room watching TV. Some ridiculous Hallmark romance thing of a movie.
“Well, how did it go?”
“Devisor 2, no hint of Diedricks, and she's done. No chance of anything further.”
Like random tails or a second head or anything.
“Well, could have been worse. I take it there were no problems?”
My stomach chose that moment to growl.
“Other than me missing lunch, no. The agent was actually kind of friendly, and the cops didn't mind me checking their identity.”
“Good. Leftovers are in the fridge.”
She glued herself back into the movie while I suppressed a shudder. I couldn't understand how she liked such things. Oh well, the disaster of the day was safely averted.
Leftovers consisted of cold pasta... and I opted for a sandwich and Pepsi instead. Then I snuck both back to my room (mom did not like food going anywhere beyond the kitchen or dining room) and booted up my computer to play a few games. After all, my homework was already done and that new shooter wasn't going to play itself.
A few hours later, after coming to the conclusion that the new shooter was a haven of scrubs and script kitties, I shut it off. What a waste of what could have been a good game. Rolling the kinks out of my shoulders I noticed the time.
I also noticed my phone was vibrating on my desk, with one missed text. It was Jamie, and it said:
“Miss you.”
She, like me, was not one for shortcuts in typing or texting. I think she got that trait from me in fact, after about the 100th time I asked her what some seemingly random collection of letters and numbers had meant. The message was dated for an hour ago. Whoops.
I texted back: “No, you're missing the new script kitty shooter, scrublet.”
She wasn't a fan of that type of game, preferring something RPG like. But she sometimes played with me, just as I sometimes played hers with her. Compromise, and all that. To be honest, she wasn't half bad at them. She just got frustrated with enemy snipers and spawn campers.
At any rate, it was now late. Or late enough. I was drained from all the worry I couldn't show. I had to be the strong one of the two of us, and it was very wearing. I could only imagine how it was for Jamie. So I just texted her again. I knew she was still up.
“Sorry, tired and going to bed. You probably should too. See you tomorrow.”
The answer came back:
“Night. Sleep well.”
I only hoped she'd get the hint. Instead of nodding off to, well, the land of Nod however, I started to work on the assignments Jamie had missed while in hiding. No sense in her falling behind, and from what I read devisors could get up to speed quickly. So I would simply save her the tedium.
.......
“Wait a minute. You did her homework?”
I flushed a bit, embarrassed at being caught; and by turning myself in, no less. I hadn't meant to let that part slip.
“Yeah. At the time I wanted to do anything I could to help her. And cheating was a way I could help lessen the load, so I did it.”
“And you weren't caught at it?”
“Well I thought that any discrepancies in the work would be glossed over by the really big news, and if there were any flags raised, I didn't catch wind of them. I made it better than her usual assignments, but not amazingly so. Her later schoolwork blew mine away, so I don't think it was ever challenged.”
“I see, and how did the lunch go?”
“It actually went OK; we ate Chinese and then I set her up in front of that shooter I mentioned, and she got wrecked while we both laughed and had fun with it. It was a great time, actually.”
“So even then, there was no hint?”
“None. She seemed perfectly fine. She did get angry, but it was a normal angry and quickly forgotten. She went home after her dad called to see if she was still there, at 9pm. I walked her home, and that was that.”
“And how was school? I assume she went back to her old school?”
“She did, and it was... difficult.”
........
Bright and early, Monday morning. I was currently walking a vision of loveliness to school. A very nervous vision of loveliness. I could feel the waves of anxiety in the air, and for a non esper to pull that off was quite the feat.
Of course when we got to school everyone was staring at her. Even when I pulled her close, I didn't rate a glance. I was secretly amused by the number of collisions throughout the halls as I walked Jamie to the office. She promptly handed over the doctor's absentee excuse to the harried secretary and walked out before said secretary could say anything.
I shot that secretary an apology in glance form as I hurried out the door to catch up. Even with all the stress, that was a pretty rude thing to do. I would chide her for it later. Once again out in the hall it was easy to catch up to Jamie; all I had to do was follow the stares.
Her first class was American history, and mine was algebra 3. So we were due to be at opposite sides of the school in about 5 minutes. Which meant I needed to hurry, and escort her to class in my plan to take over the world, or at least show other people that she can be trusted and won't eat their heads.
Me sliding up to her elbow actually startled her. That was a less than positive sign.
“Hey, gorgeous. Let's get you to class.”
She knew as well as I did where I was due to be.
“But...!”
“But nothing, I've got plenty of time to see you get safely to the sleepy class.”
Her name for it, not mine. I liked all history classes. And I wasn't about to let someone get her alone without a teacher near. There was no telling what could happen. Besides, I could tell she wanted me near as much as possible; her fingernails currently drawing blood from my forearm were a mute testament to that.
I stopped at the door of course, but watched to make sure she made it to her desk alright. And also to be seen, making sure she made it to her desk alright. A silent show of solidarity, as it were. Then of course I had to run to my class, flat out and dodging people. If a teacher saw me, well I'd just have to take the detention.
I made it with seconds to spare of course; and didn't knock down anyone at all, which was a surprise. And a new personal best record for me.
And class was boring and the work easy, so I amused myself by writing notes plotting a course for both my and Jamie's scholastic future in a social context. Which is to say, planning worst case scenarios. There were hints that Jamie's friends, being the popular queen bee types, would be less than accepting of her new mutant status. I hoped that wasn't the case, it would devastate her... but I just had to see, and the waiting is always the hardest part of anything.
The bell rang and I was out of the classroom before anyone else could do more than look up. Racing down the halls this time was simple for the first few precious seconds and that was all I needed. I managed to make it back to Jamie's side in just over a minute flat, only a little out of breath. She favored me with a wry smile.
“How long are you planning to hover over me like this?”
My reply was easy.
“As long as you want me to.”
Evidently this was the right thing to say, judging by her widened eyes and glazed expression.
“Dude, get a room if you two are going to do that.”
I smiled as I replied to that. It wasn't like I cared what others thought, after all.
“Mind your own business, Jimmy. Or maybe you and I should get that room?”
A slight wiggle of my eyebrows his direction and he was fleeing. But even better, Jamie was laughing, a carefree throaty sound of mirth. I loved to hear her laugh. She had several different types, and I loved them all.
Our next class was together, though we couldn't sit next to each other. Mr Peasely thought it would be disruptive. Perhaps he was right, but we wouldn't know unless we tried it, right? Seemed to work out for study hall. Then again, Mrs. French really didn't care what we did, as long as we weren't too loud. Some kids even watched movies on their phones with earplugs in. Sure, they hid them behind books but everyone knew what they were doing.
If I'd tried that though, my mother would find out somehow and ground me for life. Study hall was for studying. I brought my mind back on task in time to ask:
“So, how was the sleepy class?”
Translation; did anyone give you trouble in history?
“Fine. Sleepy.”
Translation: No not really, but they stared a lot and whispered and it made me uncomfortable.
The next class was biology 2, and we shared it. Which was a blessing, as running around constantly would get me detention for sure. I didn't really care, but it would make it hard to walk her home. Having her take the bus alone would be worse, and a good walk never hurt anybody. Of course Jamie didn't know I was contemplating that move, and I was already framing a way to get around her objections to it. She was allergic to exercise sometimes.
In biology class we didn't sit together, she sat several desks behind me at the back. I sat second from the front; not up front with the teacher's pets, but close enough I could clearly see and hear everything the teacher said. With a slight wave I took my seat, taking careful note of the class and their reactions.
Then I spent most of the class staring down people who were staring at Jamie, while Jamie's own wonderful eyes attempted to bore a hole in the back of my head. I only barely took part in class, far from my usual, but Mr. Anders didn't say a single word about it.
He had eyes for Jamie too. He at least, was a bit more subtle about it.
I doubted it was something sordid; after all he was a happily married man. His wife was also a teacher, of P.E. And as old as she had to be she still looked good enough to make the dead sit up from their graves and take notice (though she didn't hold a candle to Jamie). So I was betting his new found interest was more clinical. Wonder what a biology teacher's interest in the lone mutant in his class (or town for that matter) could be.
The bell rang and I took note of the assignment before standing up. I hadn't even done more than open my book to the wrong page and pretend; I could always just do the assignment later, even if I don't know what it is at the moment.
I collected Jamie at her desk, and we walked to her next class, Home ec. The idea of Jamie playing little Susie home-maker was as always, endlessly amusing to me. My own class was Spanish 1. I had tried to talk Jamie into learning Spanish with me, but she didn't see the need. For my own part, I could always use more languages. Now American Spanish was not the same as the one from my mom's homeland. So what I was really doing was learning the cultural differences between the two.
My mother had taught me Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, and French. Though my French was pretty basic; enough to order at restaurants and ask where the bathrooms were. Mother despaired, she was a master of several more languages, but though I was willing, adding French seemed to crowd the others out. There seemed to be an upper limit to how many languages I could learn.
At any rate, I seriously doubted anything crazy could happen at home ec, after all it was home ec, and Mrs. Winters was a bit of a battleaxe. There was some debate among us students as to whether she was a clone or a robot; she looked like she was around for world war 2, but was suspiciously spry for someone that old.
On my own lonely way to class, I found myself bracketed and a beefy arm around my shoulder. My two bookends were Arnold Trask and Ben Vecilio, two of the bigger troublemakers of our school. And that's both literal and figurative. Locally known as Arnie and Benny, they were like something from fast times at Ridgemont high meeting the Hell's Angels. Hmm, maybe I should ask if Arnold is related to officer Trask? It was likely, this was a small town after all. Arnold spoke first:
“So, Benny here and I are concerned. Here you are, hanging out with a mutie. And I thought you were smart. Don't you know muties is dangerous?”
That's Arnold for you, not only an ignorant hater, but one with bad grammar. I decided to play dumb.
“Sorry, to whom are you referring?”
So far I was managing to keep a tight rein on my temper; but it was already getting difficult. The only thing that stopped me so far was the simple fact that grammar aside, he was correct so far. Jamie was a mutant, so it was a fair description; even if I wouldn't use the term dangerous.
“To your girlfriend, Jamie! It's only a matter of time before she flips out and kills us all!”
And then he was on the ground, and my fist was stinging. I tried to focus past the buzz in my brain and singing blood in my ears.
“That's my girl you're talking about, Arnie. Be very careful what you say. And as for that statement, don't let me catch or hear you saying it again. Because if I do, I'm going to hurt you.”
He jumped right back up, red faced, before Ben could jump in (Ben was always a bit slow).
“Now see here you....”
My cold, matter of fact voice cut through his yelling bluster. It was obvious I didn't care about his size or reputation as I jabbed a finger in his chest.
“No, you see here. I don't care what you say about me; I don't care about your reputation; I don't care about your friends. Impugn my girlfriend again, and win or lose, I will make you bleed buckets. Buckets, you understand?”
He quieted and gave me a long look. I waited. I was willing to wait there all day.
“I got it. You're an alright guy Lucas. I hope everything goes well. I'll just owe you for the sucker punch.”
I was suddenly all smiles again.
“Feel free to collect any time you want. I've got to get to class.”
.........
“So you went as far as all that? Defending her honor and reputation and everything?”
My curious seatmate asked.
I nodded, swimming in my own remembered misery. I was saved by the stewardess.
“Excuse me, would you like a lunch?”
“Yeah, I'd like the ham sandwich, the uh... option number one.”
The stewardess dutifully handed over the deli style ham sandwich and a bag of generic potato chips; smile still plastered on.
“I'll take the same but with the apple slices please.”
That was also passed over, and then the stewardess turned to me, and that pasted on smile faltered ever so slightly. I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't been looking for it. My ears weren't out so I assume she was informed through the passenger manifest or the pilot.
“I'll take the vegetarian option please.”
She handed a prepackaged salad over with a separate packaged fork and napkin.
“Dressing?”
I didn't even need to think about it.
“Ranch, please.”
My seatmate didn't even bat an eye; no doubt due to his careful attention to the accounts of my sordid history he knew of my dietary restrictions. I couldn't help eying his sandwich as I broke my own food from its confinement. Even after all this time, I missed meat.
At least the salad had carrots in it. Nice, crunchy carrots.
I ignored the amusement I felt radiating from my side as I ate. Yes, I knew salad was stereotypical. Yes, I knew carrots specifically were stereotypical. But my digestive tract was no longer fully omnivorous; meat made me sick. The more I ate, the worse it got. No one was sure if it was BIT or genetics, but my mentor Ibby couldn't eat meat easily either.
At least he allowed me to eat in silence. He was rather focused on his own food. What was it about air travel that made people hungry for crap food? The salad was maybe fast food grade, and I'm sure the sandwich was the same.
Once finished it was a small wait for the stewardess to pick up the trash, then of course I needed to relieve myself. So then I had to be “that guy”... or rather, “that girl” and bother my seatmates. I probably could have waited if I wanted, but my ears were getting downright painful.
Just because I could fold them down, didn't mean it was pleasant to do for long periods.
As soon as I was alone and the flimsy door was safely locked, I pulled the hood back and let them spring up on their own. I couldn't fully suppress the sigh. Moving them allowed me to work the kinks out. Using the seat covers thoughtfully provided by the airline I did the thing bathrooms were actually for, almost as an afterthought. Then I sat there a bit longer, stretching my stupid ears as much as I could so they wouldn't cramp up again.
Then the hood went back up, and I went out to face the suspicious world again.
A 2nd Generation Whateley Academy Story
Down the Rabbit Hole
by Nagrij
Part 2
It didn't take long for the suspicions of the outside world to rear their ugly heads; one was just outside the bathroom door in fact.
The air marshal was a large man, just past middle age with rugged features and dressed almost like a cowboy; faded jeans over boots that could be real snakeskin, a large silk shirt that showed how well built he was, and a suit jacket. I expected a gun, but there wasn't one. I couldn't spot a bulge at the armpits, but I knew he had to be armed somewhere. I tried not to let the suspicion painting his face get to me; after all, he was paid to be paranoid.
Perhaps it was wrong to assume he was an air marshal, but Murphy stated I was to be a whipping boy – or girl – before. So wrong or not, I was looking for something to go wrong, and this guy screamed cop, whether I saw a badge or not. His ice breaker statement only reinforced the cop impression.
“Everything all right, miss?”
“Um, yes sir. Nature doesn't stop calling just because we're at 50,000 feet.”
He squinted an eye shut into my myopic smile a good long moment before finally moving and letting me though. Then he went inside the bathroom himself... though I suspected it was more to inspect it for nasty surprises I might have left as opposed to any pressing need of his own. On a whim I slowed my walk, and sure enough he came out about a minute later and went back to the stewardess's hold or workspace or whatever it was called. Jerk.
I once again bothered my seatmates by making them move their legs and scooting into my seat.
“Are you alright? You were gone for some time.”
The businessman, who I was beginning to have doubts about actually seemed concerned. Well, he at least already knew so I supposed I could tell him. I leaned in to whisper.
“Everything's fine. Just... well, sometimes if my ears are in the same position for a long time they cramp.”
I think the frat boy heard me, headphones or not, 'cause I caught him looking over at me. But my hoodie was still up, so I was sort of safe to scrutiny. I waited and he got the hint, going back to his phone. Through it all the businessman waited patiently.
A quick glance at his laptop revealed no open recording programs or word documents; which I took to be a good sign. He smiled when I looked up, and I knew he knew what I had been checking for.
“Now, so there you were, helping the young lady adjust, and everything was going swimmingly....”
“Right. Starting from there, then.”
.......
Time flies, whether you're having fun or not. Eventually. After the big excitement of Jamie's mutation, things settled down to a new kind of normal. A change in the status quo. Jamie was out of the cool kids clique; it hadn't taken her former friends long to decide that she was too weird and they didn't want to be around her anymore.
She had taken to wearing jeweler's glasses (or something similar that magnified small things, for all I know she made them herself) and muttering to herself while tinkering with small devices of unknown origin, which has yet to help her image at school. Once a bright girl, she now outstripped me and everyone else in that area, which led to her cold shoulder among most of the geeks and nerds. Who knew geeks and nerds got jealous about such things?
Still, even outcast as she was, there were some brave few that would accept her for who she now was; and it was to that particular lunch table of unusual suspects that I was headed. It had taken time to root out the fakers and sycophants from the genuine article; the wheat from the chaff. Jamie had been reeling from the betrayal of her closest friends, so I had been the one to conduct most of the impromptu interviews. Which basically meant that I had just sat down beside them one day and talked.
Jamie did not like me spilling my guts about her situation, but she couldn't argue with the results. Several new friends, made to order and far less likely to stab her in the back the moment she looked away. I still hadn't gotten back at her old so-called friends for dumping on her like they had, but I would. I was only human after all, and better me than Jamie. Jamie didn't need that sort of karma.
Lunch was, of course, where the real difference was seen. The cafeteria had a heavy early 20th-century asylum feel, with dingy white walls and a puke green tile floor. I wasn't sure where, but the school had found long fold out tables with benches built in to match the floor, and set them through the place. Master decorators the school staff wasn't. At least the kitchen was mostly clean, and the staff tried to keep their beards (men and women both) out of the soup.
Long story short, we both had a new love for the outcast table. Jamie because the school at large stated she belonged there, and myself because the school at large said she belonged there. Like most of the smarter students I brought my own lunch, and I spread it out before me; a cold burger from the local burger joint along with equally cold fries. I subscribed to the firm belief that even cold it was better than the alternative... and sometimes I was able to warm it up using one of the microwaves next to the vending machines. One glance showed I couldn't do it today though, and I just sat down.
I sat down right next to two of the outcasts; the wonder twins. The wonder twins were Jeff and Jane, twins who before their simultaneous growth spurts had looked nearly identical, a fact which had made the small and petite Jeff a target for ridicule. Now he was almost as tall as I was, and had some real muscle while his sister has been filling out nicely. Despite all that, the resemblance was still uncanny, somehow.
At least nowadays anyone could tell them apart. I bet Jeff was relieved about that too.
Across the table from me was Marcus. Marcus was, well, out of shape. Or to put it less nicely, he had a shape – a pear. For all that he couldn't run 100 steps without gasping and grinding to a halt, he was a nice guy who was even more laid back than I was. We had actually been friends for a few years. He never did deserve the treatment he got for not living up to the California ideal, and really liked Jamie. Despite the fact that Jamie was trying to get him to exercise.
And so I waited with ill-concealed impatience while Jamie stood in the lunch line. That meant one of two things; either she had forgotten her own lunch again, or her mom hadn't made one. Jamie now required a little bit of help focusing in the kitchen; she had discovered how much cooking resembled chemistry, and was in an experimentation phase. A phase her mother did not want to promote in any way shape or form. I wasn't sure I blamed her for not wanting the mess involved, but I know I blamed her for how it made Jamie feel when Mrs. Howe scolded her.
Of course, that led to other problems.
I watched as Jamie was bracketed by her former friends on the cheer team, or squad, or whatever they wanted to call themselves this week. Before I could get up she was shoved, twice, a game of human tennis. Marcus reached out and snagged my hand as they left, preventing me from tracking the scum down and delivering a little retribution.
“No man, just ignore it. She will feel worse if you don't.”
I sat back down, mainly out of confusion.
“How would that even work?”
He looked me straight in the eye, something he didn't do to anyone often.
“Trust me. Just act like you didn't see a thing. If you want help settling up later, you got it, OK? But don't say anything to her.”
I shrugged and nodded. He hadn't steered me wrong so far. And then the light amongst the darkness was in our midst.
“Hey! How's it going today?”
Marcus gave his customary mumbled “fine” as I kissed her on the cheek in answer. She looked nervous as she sat down on my other side, but she rapidly took in my lack of visible rage to mean that I hadn't seen any of the bullying. She was almost certain of it when I stared at her lunch.
“Mom wouldn't let you in the kitchen again? Only reason to eat that garbage.”
She nodded with a sigh.
“You try one little recipe with rock salt and borax and you're banned forever.”
I looked at her with a smirk. “Isn't that the one that moved?”
She coughed a bit in embarrassment. “Yes, but only a little?”
Jane rolled her eyes and Jeff called her on it.
“Pretty sure things move when you cook too, sister mine. So no room to talk there.”
I shrugged it off.
“Don't worry about it Jamie, if she keeps giving you trouble, just ask her about the magic brownies.”
With one statement I managed to confuse them all.
“What do you mean, magic brownies?”
I grinned.
“Listen and learn, neophytes. They were kids once too; statistically the chances are good that your mom has made weed brownies before. Mention it and watch her closely; if she flinches, then she did, and you have ammunition that will let you back in the kitchen, should you want to go back that is.”
My mom had flinched when I suggested it. Then mentioned something about rabbits which I hadn't quite caught, cause she clammed up. I preferred not to guess about what that might mean... no one wanted to think about their parents that way. If anything, I had just made Jamie more confused.
“But that makes no logical sense whatsoever?”
“Of course not, but not every argument is logical, and not every way to win one requires logic. Usually, just the appearance of such is enough.”
There was a sparkle in Jamie's eye.
“That's remarkably underhanded of you.”
I mock preened. “Thank you, I try.”
Jane just poked Jeff in the ribs, as if to say 'take notes'. We finished eating in relative silence; for some reason the other regular occupants of our table weren't here. Sometimes they skipped lunch, but I still wasn't sure what happened to them when they did. Nothing bad I hoped.
Jamie stopped me as I got up to throw my trash away.
“We still on for after school?”
I had to admit, I was fascinated by my girlfriend. The things she could do were nothing short of amazing, no matter how weird they got. She was involved in some internet project posed to get answers on mutation, and how it worked. She was even getting paid a small amount from her work on it.
One of the more fascinating aspects of the current wave of human mutation was a concept called a “body image template,” which was a foundation for how the super pretty type of mutant worked. The term used by those in the know and Jamie clued me in. Their body actually conformed to an image, possibly an ideal, which was somehow tied to them. It was also considered that some of the more inhuman looking mutants also had one. How it was tied to the person, and when, no one knew.
That was what Jamie and several other smart mutants were studying. So far her own research seemed to indicate that the body image template was linked to the actual genetic code of the person, and existed well before mutation started. She also had mentioned something about it being similar to a form of mutation called an “avatar”, but that was where she lost me.
But lost or not, it was very interesting.
“Wouldn't miss it for the world. See you after school.”
......
My seatmate stopped me there, gently.
“Sorry to interrupt, but what is an avatar, exactly?”
“Oh, my bad. I've learned a few of the terms used to describe different mutants. An avatar is your basic host type of mutant that a spirit finds a home in, like Champion. The theory that Jamie was working on was that the mutant with a body image template and an avatar were actually similar mutations, and while the avatar mutation allowed for a sort of extra-dimensional space that served as a home for a spirit, the body image template mutation had a similar sort of space that allowed the mutant to host certain concepts involving body images, such as....”
“Young ladies with rabbit ears?”
I winced but suppressed the more violent reaction as I continued.
“… or super beautiful superman type women and men, yes. Supposedly it also explains the more monstrous looking mutants out there as well. Though the mutant may hold their own image of what they should be, there can also be images that are just out there in the minds and subconscious of large groups of people that might still end up being expressed, or altering the image the mutant themselves holds.”
I stopped when I saw his eyes start to glaze, and suppressed my enthusiasm. I was such a nerd, talking mutant theory without a care in the world with some random person on a plane while an air marshal watched me from a few seats away.
He wasn't very subtle; I could smell his cheap aftershave even if I couldn't hear him muttering about me.
“Well at least that is the theory anyway.”
“Alright, well please, continue.”
“Alright, so after school....
......
I walked at a leisurely pace. It wouldn't do to arrive too quickly at Jamie's house; it would smack of hovering. We had already had one discussion on what she termed as 'hovering' and I wasn't anxious for another. So this week had been all about being fashionably late so she wouldn't get suspicious. That and chasing away morons, though lately there had been fewer morons to chase away ever since Karl Davies had shown up at school with the raccoon treatment (which was a black nose and two black eyes).
Jamie and I had made good fun of him, with Jamie wondering briefly who had beaten him up. He wasn't talking, and I didn't say.
But sitting outside the Howe home with a pair of binoculars trained at Jamie's bedroom window in the morning was a bit much. If anything, he got off lucky. And the only reason he wasn't in the hospital was because Jamie always kept her curtains closed in the mornings; she hated having the sun wake her up.
He hadn't known that, though, which was why he'd gotten punched in the first place. The one good shot he'd gotten on me was easily concealed, which made it the perfect crime. I half expected all his friends to jump me any day now, however. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it; many of those guys were my friends. Which I hoped meant they would at least let me explain why I was beating so many of their own down before they went straight for violence.
I figured there was a 50/50 chance of that. Most of the guys caught trying to peep hadn't said why I had been less than happy to see them, after all. If the harassment kept up though, I'd be calling the cops. I had hoped it would die down as people realized Jamie hadn't grown a second head, and some of it had, but there were still curious people. And for all I knew it could just be completely innocent curiosity over the lone mutant in the area. I still wasn't about to allow it in my presence.
A swift rap on the door and it opened right up; I had been expected. Mrs. Howe still wouldn't meet my eyes, though Mr. Howe had gotten much better about it. At least, Jamie had stopped griping about more than the usual stuff she used to gripe about them over; something I took as a good sign.
“Hello Mrs. Howe.”
“hello Luke. How are you today?”
“I'm well. How are you?”
I actually did stop to exchange pleasantries. My mother was adamant about proper behavior, and much as I tried not to let it, her lessons stuck.
“I'm fine. Jamie is upstairs.”
“Thank you.”
Well, so today was a networking day. Jamie alternated her time between chatting with people like her online or building devices on her own. Sometimes it was every other day, but more often she was spending much more time talking to other devisors online about BIT theory and other tech. I didn't understand a single word, but Jamie thought the information was advancing the cause, so I was fine with it.
What was the cause? Nothing less than finding out how mutations, or at least the mutations that caused powers, actually worked. I don't think Jamie liked being a mutant. Not that I could blame her. I tried to make things easier for her, but I could only do so much, and some days it seemed the entire world was against her, even from my point of view.
I managed to sneak up behind her, just walking right in after she didn't even respond to the knock. I was used to at least a few of her new habits by now.
As I suspected, she was hunched over her computer, her face painted garish by the light from the screen as shadows crept about the room. Next to her on the desk was some little something... some kind of gadget. She had made. Or was making, it didn't look finished.
“Hey there.”
I wrapped my arms around her and smirked as she squeaked and tried to jump up.
“Luke! You should knock first!”
I had to block her shot at my arm, gently as I could. She could pack quite a bit into a punch now. I pointed at the thing on the desk.
“I did. You didn't answer, which meant you were busy with things. I was right. So what is it tonight, brain?”
Her answering grin was as wonderful as ever.
“Same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world.”
I looked over her shoulder as she settled back in, adjusting her glasses.
“No, really, what's going on?”
She gestured at the chat logs.
“Well, Etherz claims he's made some progress in determining which dimensions the body image template appears visible in; and is currently tweaking his astral camera to get shots. Genotrope claims she has made progress in mapping the blank genes responsible for the BIT. And Psychokidz claims progress in determining which triggers are responsible for starting the mutation process.
But none of them have put it all together; they are all just arguing about who is right.”
I sat back in the spare chair, wishing I had some popcorn to watch the fireworks with. The arguments were always entertaining. It actually took a good 20 minutes for the three stooges (as I called them in my head) to remember that JAH2000 (Jamie's internet name for the purposes of this chat) was still present and accounted for.
Then Psychokidz made the mistake of asking her what she thought. With a knowing smirk, I leaned in to watch her type the response back.
'I think you're all right.' she typed, then leaned back into me to admire the fireworks. They were not long in coming.
'What? How can we all be right?!? The very idea....'
'The only true answer is obviously genetic....'
but unsurprisingly the Psychokidz, the self described mentalist, appeared to be considering the words.
'Well we all know the mind can affect the body; saying all these factors are linked is certainly nothing new. But without being able to attach correct import to each one, we are left in the dark about the process overall. Do you have any ideas there JAH?'
The idea she typed back was pretty brilliant; even I could tell.
'MRI scans of the brain. We already do the genetic mapping and look through other dimensions for influences on body image. We aren't mapping the brain itself, and brain activity during the time of change or when powers relating to a BIT are used. Either type of scan would give us more information.'
The chat room was silent for several minutes while we grinned at each other; it wasn't often Jamie could completely stymie them all. Then the practical though came back from psychokidz.
'We don't have an MRI to test this with.'
Jamie had been waiting for that one.
'We do. Etherz camera has one according to it's specs. It should be relatively easy to re-purpose it or build a version for just such a thing, provided he agrees to allow us.'
This surprised me.
“You're actually waiting on his permission?”
She shook her head, grin still in place and pointed to the gutted electrical thing I'd seen on her desk earlier.
“Of course not, but he doesn't know that. And I'll just give up the idea if he says no... and simply look up the plans for something similar but different on the internet. If it exists, it's there, after all.”
She had a point. The next message came in, from Etherz:
'So how are we going to find subjects on the verge of mutation? I can see us scanning normals for a baseline, but how do we find any correlation?'
That was a good question and one she had an answer for. Interesting.
'Simple, we don't. We scan all humans while bombarding them with images or thoughts of mutation to stimulate the thought process, then compare them to see if there are any matches.'
Oddly enough it was Genotrope that came back with the first reasoned objection, considering what kind it was.
'we would have to carefully screen the images to ensure they only provide stimuli for the areas we want to test for; no extremely hot mutant women or massive GSD cases, as those might incite lust or disgust or other emotions we don't want.'
A good point, I'll leave it to you and Psychokidz to set it up; I'll work on modifying the camera specs, with permission.'
'Etherz knew what she was implying. I could almost feel the curiosity ooze from the screen as he replied.
'You have it. You going to run the first scan tests?'
'Sure. I have a number of willing subjects to help me establish a baseline, at the very least. TTYL, signing off now.'
I shook my head as she powered down her computer.
“You just volunteered us all, didn't you?”
The twinkle in her eye as she wrapped herself around me said it all. But she spoke to seal the deal anyway.
“No, not all. Just my boyfriend who loves me, and a few other close friends who won't mind being a footnote in the annals of science for one of the greatest mysteries of the modern age.”
“Sheesh, layer it on thicker won't you?”
With a wink, she turned back to her thing.
“If I do, do you think they will fall for it?”
“I don't think you need to worry. I'm sure we can find enough people to help you out; yes me included.”
“Good! I was hoping you'd feel that way; now hold still and think mutant thoughts. This might tingle.”
I looked up with alarm to note she was now holding the business end of her machine. Where she had hidden it I don't know, but now what looked like one of those old small motion cameras from the 40's or something was pointed directly at me. I did in fact. feel a tingle. I also stayed perfectly still. Survival trait; if a somewhat... distracted genius tells you to hold still while testing something on you, it was best to do it.
“And that's it! See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?”
“A little warning next time! Well, I haven't grown a third arm or anything. So what did you learn?”
Her face fell.
“You know I'd never....”
I waved that off.
“I know, I know. So what did you learn, seriously?”
She perked up briefly before her face fell again.
“Well, I don't know. I won't know until I plug the data into my computer and translate it. All I've really got at the moment is a snapshot of your brain activity at the time of' a slight pause as she looked at her watch while I rolled my eyes. '5:23 pm, and after a discussion regarding mutation, after which you may be more receptive and stimulating the areas we need.”
“Crap! Its really that late? Mom's working late and It's my turn to make dinner!”
She reached up and poked me in the forehead.
“Whipped. Alright, you better get going. But first.”
Her arms snaked around me and pulled me into a kiss. I was enjoying the effort when I felt a pull at the base of my neck.
“Hey! What are you doing?!?”
She held up a few of my hairs before placing them in a baggie.
“Simple. I needed your DNA too. It'll grow back.”
Hair didn't grow back when you pulled it out root and all. But then again, knowing Jamie, she probably had some scheme to give me hair like a rockstar at some point, so I let it go.
“Sigh, fine, but you should ask everyone else first. Mention the DNA thing specifically too. No shades of gray; you don't want to end up sued by irate parents over DNA research without consent or anything like that. Come to think of it, isn't that how Genotrope said he got in trouble?”
She shuddered.
“Something like that. I'll do it by the book, I promise.”
I knew it, it was similar but much worse in his case. She had taken to slumming with bad influences online! And now I sounded entirely too much like my mom or some other parent! The horror!
“Alright, well I wish I could stay.' - I really did, she was looking down again -'but my mom will be out for both our heads if she doesn't have food by the time she gets home. See you tomorrow!”
I tore through the house at record speeds; I only had until 6, and I would need at least twenty minutes to throw what I had waiting in the fridge together and warm it up. Proper planning would save my bacon again.
......
Now I had to clarify a thing or two to my seatmate.
“It was around this time, that the one person who needed to be prosecuted more than any other in this entire mess hatched her 'cunning little plan' that made everything go completely south for all of us.”
“Oh?”
I nodded, nervously eying the college bum, whom I was now sure was listening while pretending not to – along with shooting me gazes when he thought I wasn't looking. I was kind of sure he was trying to check me out through my baggy clothes, but on that much at least my disguise was fairly foolproof.
“yes, one Amy Milsner. She had the idea that I was better off with her, and had come up with a foolproof plan....”
linebreak shadow
“You sure this'll work?”
Daniel was an idiot, but for now, still a useful one.
“Yes, it'll work. You do your part, I do mine, and you get your shot at the mutant free of interference, and I get Luke. Everyone wins. You just have to do your part and keep her tied up for exactly three minutes, then escort her to the gym as planned.”
She sees Luke with me, goes a little wild, they break up, and I can move in and save Luke from the crazy bitch. Simple. And Danny, who's had a torch for the mutie since freshman year, can pick her up on the rebound. Everyone wins. Even if they get together and compare notes later, once the damage was done it would be done.
I didn't understand what hold the bitch had over every male my age group in this town, but it was disgusting. She wasn't THAT pretty, or smart, or funny. What was it that she had, that the rest of us didn't?
Well, after tomorrow, she wouldn't have Luke.
A blowup and I would be there to pick up the pieces and pull that harpy's claws out of the most amazing boy in school. She could make do with second best, for once. Everything was set up, and my plants were in place. Even though I wasn't sure whose side they were on. I could hardly wait for tomorrow to come, and I knew focusing on homework was a lost cause. So after dropping my crap off at home I decided it was time for a walk.
I often walked to clear my head, it was one of the best things one could do. Even though I had a reputation to maintain as a savvy techno kid of the 21st-century, walks remained my guilty pleasure. I could always answer calls or texts while walking... if I kept it on. Sometimes silence was golden. I'd first met Luke on a walk; he liked them too.
Luke did everything for her; he had come to us after the witch's mutation, while she was 'still down about what happened' and asked us to support her. We set him straight quickly. But if he'd asked me, I'd have done it. Keep your friends close and enemies closer, after all.
But he hadn't.
Instead, he had gathered the misfits and complete social rejects together in a new clique and thumbed his nose at us. All because we didn't like the hussy that had everything. He hardly ever spoke to any of us anymore, and when he did it was to warn us to lay off the hussy.
Without knowing it I had started running, moisture in my eyes. I forced myself to slow down, think, and put it out of my mind – at least until tomorrow, when I'd finally do something about it. I also hadn't realized the route my feet had taken. I was standing in front of his house.
I could see him through the kitchen window, making dinner for his mom, who wasn't home yet. I checked my phone; she was late. Looked like stir fry. I turned around just in time, as his mom pulled up in that old diesel Audi of hers. I don't think his mom knew I existed, and I wanted to keep it that way, at least for now.
I couldn't wait until I could meet her.
......
I heard mom pull up outside just as I was putting the finishing touches on the meal. Just in time! I snuck all evidence of my laziness into the sink and trash and managed to light the candle just as she slumped her way into the dining room. I'd have to be blind not to notice she was tired; though if I were I'd probably hear it...
I started massaging her shoulders the minute she parked herself in a chair; not her customary chair, the one nearest the hall and fewest steps into the room.
“Tough day?”
She bobbed her head in a way I took to mean yes.
“A client wanted to wrap their Lamborghini around a tree, and I had to work on damage control. Not sure why my clients feel the law does not apply to them. It's like a disease.”
“Well, stir-fry makes everything better. Dig in.”
She didn't waste any time, though she could probably chew before asking questions. “Homework?”
“Done.”
I'd done it early this morning, and she hadn't been awake enough to notice. Same as my chores. Gone were the days when mom could assign me chores in the hopes that I would 'stay out of trouble'. Not that I went out of my way to advertise that fact.
“Chores?”
“Done. There is a new movie on 'Netmovie' I thought you might like, so I took the liberty of queuing it up for you.”
I knew how to press all the right buttons, and she knew it.
“What do you want, Luke?”
I knew that she knew, and knew she'd suspect something.
“Why not a thing mother dearest... perhaps store credit?”
She scoffed openly at that and waited.
“Alright, alright. Lessons this weekend?”
I know she wouldn't want to, having just dealt with a car horror story today, but extra lessons could help me pass my driver's test, and I would be 16 soon. That and I loved my mom's car; it had a sunroof; that stupid utilitarian Ford the school used to teach us was small and stuffy.
That and I trusted my mom over Mr. Miles, the driver's ed teacher. For all that his name lent itself to jokes, most of his advice was in tune of 'left, left, you little brat!' and 'That's a wall! Park this thing before you kill us and give someone else a turn.'
Not a lot of help there.
“Alright, you're on. One hour, and only one hour. And we stay local.”
Ouch, that was barely enough to get behind the wheel. But it would help. The roads around here were country ones, good stretches of asphalt that didn't see much traffic and had all the stops clearly marked. I knew them, there were no surprises waiting on them for me.
“Good enough. Now, we have a movie to watch.”
We got to bed a bit late that night. I stayed up to watch the movie, which turned out to be a bit longer than I suspected. I really should keep a closer eye on the run timers for these things. Then I ended up having to tuck mom into the couch when she fell asleep halfway through.
I wasn't about to wake her up, though; that way led madness.
As I did every night for the last six months, I checked my phone for texts. Sometimes Jamie or a few of my other friends liked to text me late at night, and it was rude to ignore them. At least, if they did it before ten. After ten pm I treated it like a phone call and ignored it provided it wasn't a huge screaming emergency. Nothing tonight, so the land of Nod was calling my name.
Mom wasn't there when I woke, but she had made breakfast... and a list of things she wanted me to do. The house was clean enough that most of it could be ignored, but I would have to mow the yard. Which meant that tonight I couldn't spend time with Jamie. Mom would likely work late again, and between the large yard and making dinner, well, it'd be late before I could go anywhere. Maybe I could invite her over? Mom likely wouldn't get too angry about that... unless Jamie started taking apart the toaster again. Mom took her morning toast seriously.
I was out and on my bike right on time, enjoying the morning. Summer was technically already here, complete with an early wildfire season warning. But the air was fresh and clean, and the birds were singing. The deer were bounding across the road right on cue, and all seemed right with the world. Then of course, in order to mock the wonder inherent in the day, I was forced to enter the dark and slightly dank confines of our local school. Go, completely original wildcats.
And straight into the boredom of the first class.
......
“And this was...?”
I nodded, cutting him off. He was trying to ask the question without asking the question, which was annoying. And my stupid ears were kinking again.
“Yes, this was Thursday, the 19th. THE day.”
I'd thought I had made that clear with the earlier reference to HER. My seatmate held his hands up in defense. Mock defense it had to be, because as angry as I was, the only move I had made had been away from him. Besides, threatening, I was not. He could probably take me, and if he couldn't then the frat boy next to us could.
I stared out the window and massaged my ears under the guise of scratching my head. I could feel the pressure of his eyes boring into my hoodie, my armor against the world.
“The school day was normal. Normal boring classes, standard crappy lunch, an annoying gym class, more normal classes. My only clue that something was up was after school. Amy Milsner is a cheerleader, and asked for my help with something after school....”
......
“Come on Luke, I need strong arms, and everyone else skipped on me.”
I wasn't happy with Amy, but she probably did need the help. No one liked to pick up the gym after school. I still wasn't sure which teacher she had pissed off to get the honors; usually, the honor went to the person that had failed the most in gym class. Normally she had no problem conning people nearby for the honor of helping her, but they had apparently gotten wise.
I was too nice for my own good sometimes.
The gym was empty of course, but several of the banks of lights were out too, and that was odd. It made some large patches of shadow in the large building. Normally if the lights were out, they all were; I smelled something funny at work here. The boxes of freshly delivered equipment we needed to pick up and put away was in the well lit areas at least. We got such deliveries sometimes, and the school didn't want to pay the janitor to move them; he was union. The coaches would probably do it, but they were busy with after school activities.
I started in, Amy of course supervising with a muttered “that box there” and “this one over there”, rolling my eyes. The door that led to the girl's shower opened and Amy jumped me immediately, wrapping her arms around my neck and dragging me down with her weight into a lip-lock so full it was almost painful. When she tried to stick her tongue down my throat though, I all but threw the box occupying my hands and tore free. There were flashes from the corner; Danielle and Marsha were both there with phones in camera mode, happily snapping away.
“What the hell, Amy?”
She was smiling. The gym door swung closed again, but not before I caught sight of the most wonderful and familiar backside in the school.
I should have known. I should have known she was plotting something from the start; it wasn't as if Amy had a shortage of people willing to do her bidding. Even though she already asked me, I should have known. But this? This ploy is one of the oldest plots in the book. And I fell for it.
“Jamie, wait!”
I had to take the long way around; I couldn't go through the girl's showers. I almost did it anyway, and suspension be darned, but Danielle and Marsha were still taking pictures. Video evidence posted online would be bad. Especially if mom saw it.
I pulled out my phone as I ran, my heart growing cold. Letting Jamie draw her own conclusions would be bad; she tended towards the jealous under the best circumstances. I would have expected her to confront us immediately and possibly punch Amy out. She didn't, and I wasn't sure what that meant, but it made me uneasy. Speed dialing her number with my phone on speaker, I could clearly hear the click as she picked up... then a loud sob just before she hung up on me.
The next attempt just rang to voice mail. She must have turned off her phone. Not good, she must really be pissed. I didn't leave a voice mail and the moment I hung up my own phone rang. It wasn't Jamie however.
“Luke, come back. Let's talk about this.”
“I don't think so Amy. I think you'd better forget my number.”
I never regretted giving her my number more than this moment. I hung up on her but for some reason, my phone was now permanently busy no matter what I did. Oh well, not like I wanted to explain what had happened over the phone anyway.
I shaded my eyes against the bright sunshine as I shoulder checked the outer door. Somehow, she was faster than I was. I had taken to walking her to school, to keep the creeps in all their flavors away; I was in great shape, but somehow, I had completely lost her. Sure, I had taken the long way around, but she wasn't even in sight. Checking both directions of the street yielded nothing. Where had she vanished to?
Didn't matter; I knew where she would be headed, or if not, where she would end up. I couldn't run all the way to her house, but I could jog. And perhaps walk very fast. A full jog to her house would take me about twenty minutes. I might even be able to catch up to her.
But wait. When Jamie was upset and wanted to think, well before her mutation, she had always gone to her secret spot. The spot wasn't really that much of a secret, it was in a public spot after all, but it was a copse of trees by a stream were hardly anyone ever went. She had showed me the spot once, and I had a history of finding her there; mostly after she was mad at me or her peers, for some reason or another. Maybe the reason I hadn't seen her, was she had gone there?
Heck, maybe she hadn't come out of the school at all; if I started second guessing myself now, I wouldn't find her until school tomorrow. Her home it was. I set off again, only to be interrupted before I could really open up and get my stride. Danny had a car which he had gotten less than a month before, when he had been allowed to take his driver's test early, somehow. He never had told us exactly how he rated a license at 15, but we had all decided he had bribed some politician with his body and left it at that. We had all been appropriately jealous, admiring the rusted lime green hulk of an early '80's vintage Chevy tank. It was a 'classic' car. He was the first in our class to get both, but many of us were due soon enough. I'd turn 16 and be able to take the test over the summer myself.
And that tank sped up down the street and cut me off with a loud belch of foul smelling smoke.
Amy jumped out of the passenger side; she had always been one to take advantage, and her boyfriend having a car was too good to pass up, even though she had been caught more than once lamenting it's horrible condition. She had even gone so far as to say being seen in something so old and decrepit would ruin her reputation. She was proving what I'd thought of her upon first hearing that; that she was a bit of a drama queen.
I dodged her clumsy grab, and ignored her unusually loud greeting of:
“Hello, lover!”
Seriously, was she trying to piss me off? She started again, trying to match my stride (she couldn't, she wasn't tall enough) and speaking more softly.
“Come on, wait up Luke! Don't be like that.”
“Go away Amy. Just go home or something; I'm not in the mood.”
“Come on, let's talk about it?”
I stopped. Despite my lack of trust in myself, I found my eyes locking with hers. My fingernails were drawing blood from my palms, which was a neat trick considering how short I kept them.
“Fine, let's. How does Danny feel about you all but raping my mouth?”
“You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it,”
I could, and did.
“I didn't enjoy it at all. Now answer my question.”
Now that I'd stopped she leaned into me again. I moved and she all but fell over, pouting. She looked ridiculous.
“Danny is fine with it. Now, why don't you ditch the freak and hang with us? I'll make it worth your while.”
Danny was leaned up against his illegally parked car. He nodded stiffly when I looked his direction, confirming what Amy was telling me without a word. If anything, he seemed happy about it. At least, before he really looked at me. Then I could see the worry spring to life.
“I'm going to forget you said that, Amy. Last chance to walk away.”
She thought I was bluffing. She thought she knew me.
“Or what? You'll hit me?”
“No, I won't hit you. I don't hit girls, at least, not girls that cant fight. But I do know a few girls who can and do, and won't mind doing me a favor. Especially if it's you.”
I can fight dirty when I have to, and she was forcing my hand. She raised her hands in surrender.
“Alright, alright, I'm gone. But keep me in mind when you come to your senses, O.K.? I'll be waiting.”
She turned around and added some extra wiggle to her hips as she walked off with a laugh. I could hear my teeth creaking so I unwound my jaw; it took more effort than I liked. Deep, calming breaths Luke. In; out. I resumed my run as Danny's car drove off the opposite direction. Good, at least they weren't going to start something by following me or trying to beat me to Jamie's house.
Bright side, at least now I knew I couldn't trust them.
I was winded by the time I made it to Jamie's house. There were no cars in the drive; had Mrs. Howe driven somewhere? I knocked loudly on the door, then took three steps back so that Jamie could look out her window and see who it was. The curtains didn't move. No one answered. I knocked and backed up again. I fought down the urge to yell for her since the house was rather well insulated and she likely wouldn't hear me.
A few more knocks convinced me that no one was home. Or that Jamie was so pissed she wasn't answering the door. Trying the knob, I found it locked, and that clinched it. I couldn't break in, no matter what the circumstances.
I checked the back yard just to be sure; she wasn't there. I turned my phone back on and it immediately beeped with a text.
Heard what happened. Saw Jamie near 44. - Clayton.
Clayton was a neutral party in all this; well mostly, he was an old friend of mine, and whatever rumor he had heard, (how had those flown so fast, anyway? That was almost faster than a cell phone call... I obviously had a few witnesses to pound later on sheer principle) he would take with plenty of salt. Near 44 she could only be on that old service road that led to her special place. Which was, unfortunately, on the opposite end of town, some forty minutes away, again at a jog. Wonder how long ago the message was sent.
I couldn't get a car fast enough. If mom were at home, I'd go there and con her into giving me a ride; it'd be slightly faster, and my mom liked Jamie. Jamie liked my mom too, so that might help the fallout. I was pretty sure I was going to have to talk fast regardless, though the more time that went by, the more she'd calm down. Maybe.
I started off again. My phone stayed silent, thankfully. When I tried to dial Jamie's however, it was still busy or off. So I composed a text of my own while keeping an eye out for traffic. I couldn't quite keep the frustration out of it:
Jamie, we're being played by Amy. It was all a setup. Please talk to me. Let me know where you are, I'm looking.
I was in reasonably good shape, but I couldn't run all the way there. I gave it my best shot anyway, and by the time I reached the service road I was half wishing Danny would show up again just so I could get a ride. Luckily, Jamie wasn't ever really the most in tune with nature; her spot was only a few hundred yards down the road, and off to the left.
It was a beautiful spot overlooking a gorge an old creek had cut into the bedrock, probably a million years ago, with large old growth trees all around but an unimpeded view of many a sunset, including this one. The sun was just beginning to dip and just starting to spread it's red and gold hues across the sky. I was later than I thought.
As beautiful as the site was, the spot was empty. I searched around just to make sure she hadn't hidden herself anywhere nearby (I doubted she would even as pissed as she was, she didn't like getting dirty) and nothing. Had I missed her somehow? There were two routes out from town to this service road, had she taken the other, the longer route from her house?
I didn't know for sure, but something smelled a bit fishy, here. Perhaps this was a bit bigger than just Amy and Danny? If so, then I had to hurry; there was no telling what was else was going on behind my back. I took off again, calling mom; she had to be close to getting out of her car now if she wasn't in it. She answered after the first ring; good, I hadn't caught her on the road; she was home.
“Luke, what's up?”
“Gonna be late today.”
“You don't say?”
I smacked myself on the forehead; of course I was going to be late; I was already late.
“So why are you going to be late?”
I had to dodge a car before I answered.
“Some drama at school happened. Going to head over to Jamie's and get it sorted out. Going to take me maybe an hour.”
She didn't read too much into it, thank God. “Alright. Dinner will be on the table. Try and make it home before dark. If something comes up, call me and I'll come get you.”
“Mom, not a little kid. I can be out when the street lights come on.”
“Sure you can... just not when I say you can't. Do what you need to, but hurry home or you don't eat.”
Ouch, she really knew how to hit where it hurt. My stomach was already rumbling in sympathy.
“As soon as possible.”
And I started off again, this time racing the sun. Jamie had to be home by now; she was too much of a shut-in lately, too sensitive a bout the others reactions to her lately, and well... just too invested in making strange tech crap to stay away from it for long. She had already been away from her projects the entire school day and then some, so she had to be hard at work by now.
I was getting more exercise today than I had the previous week; yet another exhausting forty minutes later and I was back at Jamie's house. This time her mom and dad were home at the very least, cars pulled up side by side and one of them still making that ticking noise cars tend to do when cooling down.
I wasted no time knocking on the door. Mr. Howe wasted no time in answering; I could tell he had just gotten home.
“Hello Luke, come on in. I think Jamie's in her room.”
She probably was. That was where the magic happened; her parents wouldn't let her do her thing anywhere else. She had tried to explain it to me once; the pressure, the need to create things, like an itch that needed scratching. I didn't think I could every really understand it, but then I didn't need to. Hopefully, she was immersed in her work and calm by now.
“Thanks, Mr. Howe. Do you know how long she's been home?”
He shook his head while pulling off his tie and plopping into his favorite chair with a sigh.
“No, just got home myself. Probably since school let out though?”
“I don't think so sir, I've been looking for her. I knocked earlier, and there was no answer.”
Mr. Howe puzzled over that.
“Odd, Sydney should have been home. Sydney!”
I started up the steps just in time to nearly run Mrs. Howe over.
She was wide-eyed and pale, wring her hands, the very picture of nerves. There were even stains on her dress; something dark. Oil maybe? Had she been helping Jamie?
“You shouldn't be here.”
She said it in a whispered rush, and I began to get the feeling something was very wrong.
“Why? What's going on?”
Her voice gained strength and command.
“You betrayed her, and you really shouldn't be here! Leave, now!”
My heart twisted as the muffled sing-song voice erupted behind Mrs. Howe.
“Oh, Luuuuke... is that you? Could you come here for a minute please?”
Mrs. Howe grabbed my arm as I drew even with her; eyes even wider than before, entire face pleading without words. She was terrified. I moved back a step and was rewarded with silent gratitude.
“Oh, Luke... don't keep me waiting, stud. I have a surprise for you.”
There was something... manic in her voice. Perhaps discretion was the better part of valor here after all? Mrs. Howe certainly seemed to think so. But no, I had to face the music and explain things. I had to set this right. A step, and Jamie's door splintered. She stood there, blood dripping from her left hand and framed by the hall light. What I could see of her face was all twisted; wrong.
And in her right hand she held some sort of gun.
“Jamie, I need to....”
She raised the gun and fired; it released an eye-searing coruscating beam of energy that missed me when Mrs. Howe pushed me down the stairs; she following right behind me to avoid the beam herself.
I landed well and moved again, dodging her next shot and speeding past Mr. Howe, who seemed frozen with his mouth open.
“Come on Luke, stand still; it won't hurt... much.”
Mrs. Howe seemed to be OK; at least she was moving. I couldn't really check on her while Jamie was doing her Carrie impression. I needed to get out of here; outside I'd have more options.
“Come on Jamie, it was Amy! She did it all, trying to drive us apart!”
The door was too solid to jump through, but I tried before opening it. I risked a look back; Jamie had stopped at the foot of the stairs and was aiming her gun at me. It almost looked familiar, somehow.
“Luke... lover. You have her lipstick on your shirt.”
I dove through as she fired again, this one made my hair stand up. My shoulder bounced painfully off the sidewalk and I scrambled up. Turning around revealed that Jamie was standing in the doorway, less than ten feet away. There was no cover, nothing at all in range to hide behind, and dodging would be 50/50. Talking was my best bet, though I didn't hold any hope of that at all. I was going to die, killed by Amy's stupid grade school plot. The ray gun started to emit a high-pitched whine; Jamie's inventions weren't always stable, and the more rushed, the less stable: maybe it was breaking?
“Jamie, please. I was set up. We were set up! I'd never cheat on you, please listen!”
Her hand twitched, and I bolted for the cars, the only cover close enough. I had one last moment of clarity when I realized I had been had; I had calculated wrong, and the beam hit me just as Jamie disappeared from view behind her father's car. At first, it was a feeling like being in a meat locker; everything was bitterly cold. Then every nerve lit up, and I realized I was on fire. My entire body was on fire, every inch. Distantly I heard screams that made me worry; piteous pain filled wails. I rolled as best I could but my body refused to respond; hopefully that would put out the fire.
My last sight was Jamie, pure horror on her face, sparking gun held limply at her side, and her voice, clear as a bell through the screams I now realized were my own.
“Luke?”
......
“Jamie, no!”
I came fully awake realizing that I was already sitting up, hands outstretched and shout dying on my lips. A look at white tile, white painted walls, a white sheeted bed, with tented sheets over my legs, and it came to me; I was in a hospital.
And then mom was there, crushing me with a hug.
I felt no pain, even as mom's weight forced me back onto the bed. I had been on fire; I know I had. Jamie had... shot me with a gun. So how long had I been out? The only pain I felt was... from my tailbone?
“Luke, oh Luke....”
“Mom, what's going on?”
My voice sounded odd; higher. I tried to raise up, something I could have done easily before, I found myself pinned now as my mother cried over me. I went cold. Had I been in a coma for years or something? My voice was rough, as if I hadn't had water in a year, but under that, there was something else wrong with it too.
“Mom, tell me: how bad is it?”
She loosened up for a bit, looking into my eyes, before crushing me again with another hug and beginning to cry again, this time painfully loudly in my ear. I flinched; it was too loud!
Something on my head twitched and moved in response, and the noise became slightly less.
The door opened; mom didn't even seem to notice until a voice rang out. It was pleasant, sultry, yet it was even louder than the crying.
“Rella, Got your coffee. You wouldn't believe the lines in the cafeteria! Took forever... oh, hello. You're awake, good morning!”
The body attached to the voice was quite simply, amazing. Covered in a well-cut dark blue business suit was a tall statuesque blonde. She looked every inch the magazine model she was, dressed up to impersonate a secretary or something. And she was easily recognized, by the large white furred ears sticking straight up from her head. I knew there would be a large puffball over her butt. I couldn't see them clearly from here, but I even knew her eyes were a rich chocolate brown.
This was the Iron Bunny, a retired superhero.
Everyone from this area knew who she was; a retired super who had been active in the 70's, she was a successful model for Playboy and a few other magazines, knew Hugh Hefner and several other big shots like Hollywood actors and directors personally, and donated to several charities and institutions yearly... like the Redding school district, which had used the cash last year to construct a new score board that hardly anyone but the football team ever used.
But what was she doing here? Was she a client of mom's? Mom usually did get tapped to handle high profile clients. Was she here for moral support or something? Were she and mom friends? I had heard some weird rumors about Iron Bunny. The shortened name seemed to indicate they were friendly at least.
Whatever her reasons for being here, she immediately crossed the distance in two long strides, set the two cups of coffee down, and began to gently peel my mom off me.
“Rella, come on. Ease up, you're scaring the poor kid. Let go, at least for now.”
She was right about that at least. My mom managed to tear herself away from me, reluctantly and I took stock. Something was wrong with me still; my body was covered in a sheet, but my arms weren't. They weren't bandaged either, as I'd expect from a burn victims arms. They did seem smaller than I remembered them being however, with no visible hair at all. And my hands... they were downright delicate looking.
I shifted uneasily, trying to get comfortable; the pressure on my spine eased.
“How long have I been out?”
My voice was definitely different, and louder than I remembered; I lowered it. Mom wiped her eyes, which only stemmed the flow, and answered.
“Almost a full week. After Jamie... shot you, you were in a coma; it's the 26th.”
I remembered now, the terror, the empty look in Jamie's eyes, my own brief burst of desire to know which direction she was going to shoot... and the pain. But again, there were no burns. No pain or wounds that I could feel; had the gun just been some sort of pain gun? Had I hallucinated the fire that flowed along every inch of skin?
No, there was something my mom wasn't telling me; she seemed at an honest loss for words.
“The weapon... thing, that Jamie shot you with Luke. It wasn't designed to kill.”
Her words further jogged my memory, and knocked something loose. A connection I had been a little too focused on survival to make. The gun Jamie had shot me with... had had a lot in common with her machine designed to alter mutants.
“Oh God, what did it do?”
Something, the distracting things on my head, twitched again in response to my shout. I could feel something moving up there, yet there weren't supposed to be any muscles or moving parts on the top of ones head. Not to mention the whole loud sounds hurting thing.
I reached up but mom caught my hands. Iron bunny went to the other side of my bed, face serious. Dear God, what was it? Was I so hideously disfigured?
“Steel yourself, Luke.”
Before I could respond the Iron Bunny flung a sheet aside, revealing a full-length mirror and the probable reason for her visit in all too horrible clarity.
We could have been sisters.
Sure, I still could see my mom in me, now more than ever; I still had the same olive complexion, her cheekbones, her large eyes... but my hair was beginning to go from brown to a darker color at the roots, my eyes were now an arresting shade of purple that clearly showed off the flecks of gold within, and my nose was almost a spitting image of the one Iron Bunny sported, same slight tilt upwards and everything.
I could easily be mistaken for Iron Bunny's sister, or my mom's daughter, depending on who I was standing next to. Of course, I shared the second and third most arresting traits of Iron bunny as well, furthering that illusion in a big way. Two absolutely large rabbit like ears raised from my hair; they were covered in short black fur shot through with purple that seemed to reflect the harsh halogen lighting.
And there in the mirror, past where the sheet pooled around me, where my spine would normally end, was the impression of a rather large bulge. No doubt my new tail. We were all three related, and there were no men in the room; chest or not, I was sure of that fact. There was still some traces of me left, but those were few and minor. The shape of the chin; the bridge of the nose.
Fingers snapped suddenly in my ear; I was being hugged tightly again while I stared into the Iron Bunny's concern filled chocolate eyes, she had crossed the distance when I didn't notice. She sat back with a sigh.
“She's back, Rella. Think you can hit her with the rest.”
Mom took a breath, holding a finger to my lips as I opened them.
“I'll answer all your questions. Just let me try and get through this. Alright, to start off, you can guess now that that.... bitch shot you with her own invention; the very invention you were helping her with. The device was supposed to cure certain genetic conditions or mutations in people by overwriting them with code from another; a way to remove non-beneficial mutations.”
I tried to get a word in edgewise, but Mom shushed me again.
“Not yet dear. Now, the machine is supposed to be a therapeutic device, requiring many uses for the requisite gene therapy. Not to mention it wasn't actually working. I'm taking all this from Jamie's own statement to the police, you understand.”
Jamie had been arrested, and Mom knew how to get a hold of police statements somehow. She read the look on my face.
“Aggravated assault with a weapon.”
I nodded. In the mirror I saw my ears droop to coat the side of my head. She hadn't known what she was doing; I was positive of that. The reflection of those large eyes glistened wetly in the betraying light.
“Anyway, unknown to the world at large, apparently the machine was designed to add mutant traits as well as subtract them, by the same method; that... person planned to use it to give herself a better body,” Well Jamie had always been rather vain. “When she became angry with you, she decided to punish you. Her punishment consisted of testing her devise on you, in order to make you... well, in her words, in order to make you the whore you were.”
I was wrong; there was pain after all. Had my heart stopped?
“But, how does that make any sense at all? She thought I had cheated on her, so why zap me into.... this?”
It made no sense at all. I didn't like mom's look.
“I didn't cheat on her mom, I never even touched Amy. She planned the whole stupid stunt in order to break us up.”
I had to fight hard to bury the hysterical laughter. Amy had definitely succeeded in opening a rift between Jamie and I.
“Baby, I know. Everyone knows that now. No, that person... Jamie.” She had to struggle with the name. “Jamie has diedricks; the devisor mental disease. When she gets angry, when she snaps, she won't often make any sense at all. No one knows what she was thinking that night, she's lawyered up and stopped talking.”
I remembered her face; the feeling that the real Jamie wasn't home. How she hadn't even wanted to listen to me. I didn't want to believe it; not of her. She had seemed so normal, for months!
“But she hasn't done anything like this before!”
The Iron Bunny interrupted.
“From what I've seen of her file, there were signs of it. The theory we're going with is, well, it's grim. The normal episodic fits of diedricks was over-ruled by a more severe mental illness; as a result, when last week happened, the pressure finally became too much.”
They didn't want to tell me what the 'more severe mental illness' was, but I could guess.
There had to be a way to fix this. If I could talk to Jamie, now that she was calm... maybe. One look in the mirror stopped me. But I couldn't talk to her like this; not looking like a relative of this larger than life icon in front of me.
“So the cops have the gun, right?” I could endure a little pain to go back to normal.
Unease. The tension in the room became thicker with just those seven words. The Iron Bunny's gaze got as hard as her namesake.
“We aren't done explaining just what happened yet.”
I suddenly knew why she was here; the mirror made it clear enough after all. Yes she and Mom knew each other, but there was more to it than that.
“To fully explain what's happened to you, I have to explain a little more about mutations. There is another kind of mutation, the kind that Jamie was trying to harness; it's called a BIT, or body image template. It's my kind of mutation.”
I nodded; I'd read and heard some of this before around Jamie, after all. Jamie had said they all shared the most attractive traits of humanity, looking universally movie star good. I could definitely see it in her though the ears seemed a bit off-putting on that score to me. After all, human they were not. Then again at the moment my own were flopping around as I nodded, so who was I to judge?
“Body image template is a sort of blueprint for your body to follow. The reason for all the interest in modifying them, even temporarily, is that thus far they have proven permanent; even many drugs or processes that affect the majority of humanity are ignored by those with BIT's. My own BIT has a few things in it that I'd like gone... and so I donated my information to the project she was working on, in the hopes that something beneficial would come of the research, and my own unique condition could be cured. Jamie used my body image template to attack you.”
I thought as much... but wait, if they were permanent then...!
“You mean I'm stuck like this? Jamie's gun made this permanent, and it can't fix me?”
How could a brainiac mutant make a condition that couldn't be fixed? She took a breath and forged into the teeth of my burgeoning horror.
“I'm saying we don't dare try. Somehow Jamie's devise overwrote a large portion of your genetic code, almost in an instant, with my body image template. It shouldn't even be possible to do that, not the way it was done, and so far you haven't reverted. Which means the transformation is likely stable... but anything done to it, any tinkering at all, could make it worse. The best minds around here say that barring what's left of your own genetics rejecting my foreign BIT, something that carries huge risks to your health on it's own, you're stuck this way.”
I wanted to curl up and wait for the world to go away, so I did.
......
I hadn't been out long; at least I didn't think so. I found myself on Iron Bunny's lap, with said celebrity running one hand through my hair while the other scratched the base of my new left ear. It felt... nice. I jumped up, embarrassed, and Iron Bunny let me go with a faint smirk. What she was doing... shouldn't have felt that good. But she knew somehow. My mom was watching, though her face only showed her concern.
“Are you alright, Luke?”
“Yeah, I think so. I'm sorry, I... don't know what came over me, exactly.”
I glanced at the mirror, and it betrayed me all over again by showing three females in it. The bitter thought came unbidden; why should it be any different than the people in the world? I looked again at the thin mud haired teen. Her roots were black, I could see now; black to match her ear fur.
“Am I really stuck like this? For life?”
Mom hugged me again, sandwiching me into Iron Bunny, who didn't seem to mind as she answered.
“Either for life kiddo, or for long enough that it shouldn't matter. Without knowing how BIT's work, regular science can't do a thing, and devisor science... well even if they could do something, it would mean dealing with the devisors themselves. There is one in Karedonia that might be able to manage it for example... but only by turning you into something worse. And the price for the cure would be slavery. Best not even try that route.”
Wait, wasn't that what she was trying to do when she sent her info to Jamie? Or maybe she thought it was just going to be research? No, something didn't ring true about that, but I'd have to ask later.
“Luke, there's more.”
Oh great. How could this get any worse? How could any of this get any worse? Before I could ask, Mom answered me.
“The media got a hold of the story. It's been the top story for the twenty-four-hour news feed for the last several days; and the internet has been even more... virulent. Worse, not all of the press has been favorable; some of it has been downright slanderous.”
So, not only have I been turned into an inhuman mutant, not only have I been turned into a girl, not only was there no fix for the situation but now the press was talking shit about me when I was in a coma and couldn't even defend myself? What the hell was wrong with people? Iron Bunny interrupted my train of thought in the worst way possible.
“Well, there is that, but that wasn't what I was talking about.”
“There's even more?”
Before I could tell her I didn't want to know, she nodded and continued.
“The BIT you were hit with... it was mine. I can see you figured that out already. But we don't know how much of it came through, or what else Jamie might have tried to add, so you may not be out of the woods yet. Though the good news is, my BIT does include some regeneration, so if she tried to do something weird the chances are it'll get rejected.”
This was all so surreal, so far beyond reality that I couldn't accept it. I was still stuck on Iron Bunny being in my room, and apparently knowing mom. I wanted nothing more than all these tubes and machines unhooked, and to be away from here.
“Do I have to stay here? Can we please leave?”
Mom frowned as Iron Bunny jumped up.
“I can check, though my first guess is the doctors will want to keep you overnight for observation.”
Weird, how could she check? We weren't related, she shouldn't be able to ask about my treatment at all... unless mom put her on the list of relatives.
Mom was stroking my hair and ears as we hugged; she wouldn't let me go.
“I'm sorry mom.”
Her grip tightened as she shifted, looking into my eyes.
“You have nothing to apologize for, to me or anyone else. Though I would like to know, what exactly happened?”
I told her. About midway through, Iron Bunny returned, but she didn't interrupt. When I was finished she shook her head in wonder.
“So the MCO actually got it right, this once. Wonders will never cease.”
I looked at her blankly.
“Right, I'll um, let your mom explain that one. The doctors say it's a no go kiddo, you have to stay here overnight. If nothing happens by morning, we can discharge you and take you home.”
Mom sighed and shot the celebrity a look that made her hunch her shoulders defensively. Then she looked at me, that earlier serious look returning.
“I suppose I should tell you about the press, so you aren't surprised, but I'll let you make the choice. Would you like to know?”
She really didn't want to tell me; she didn't want to add another shock right now, I was sure. But I was always the kind of kid to rip the band aid off quickly... and really, what was one more screwed up thing to dump on me at this point?
“Go for it mom. I should probably hear it from you.”
She sighed and forged ahead.
“Well, the press are... interested in the sensational. Your story qualifies. As such they have been covering it from the beginning, and it's national, maybe even world news by this point. I haven't been inclined to follow everything, but you've been portrayed as everything from an innocent victim of an evil mutant, to... to a teenage man-slut who got what he deserved for cheating on an innocent mutant.”
She was picking her words carefully, and yet that spilled out. Which meant that I had probably been called worse, and that was the best of the worst she could think of to mention to me. I swallowed my outrage with real effort; I had heard of past attempts at character assassination from mom before, but never my own. Iron Bunny piped up, her words a distraction.
“Yeah, it's actually been all kinds of twilight zone; the MCO and pro-mutant crowds both have been having a field day with it, though currently public opinion is favorable to you at the moment. The police are backing the MCO's version of events, and your story matches both.”
Mom and Iron Bunny's eyes both got huge at the same time; the effect would have been comical under other circumstances.
“Oh crap, the police! They are going to want a statement from you. We should call them in.”
I really did not want to deal with the police right now; I didn't want to make all this any more real.
“The moment we call the police in, the press are going to know and start up full force again.”
Mom shrugged.
“It can't be helped. We already screwed up a bit by telling Luke what happened, though I wasn't about to follow that stupid request that we keep her in the dark anyway.”
Now that I could agree on.
“I think I'd have been most upset to find bunny ears and a tail, and receive no explanation for them.”
“Exactly.”
So I waited while the police were called, slowly going a bit stir crazy. Mom had vetoed any television, so it stayed silent in the corner. She had also vetoed any internet use, and wouldn't hand me my phone, if my phone even still worked. I'm not sure I blamed her for either decision, but it left me staring at Iron Bunny, looking for similarities between us.
She seemed to be doing the same thing.
The police must have been waiting for the call; really that's the only reason I could think of for some middle aged guy in an ill fitting suit that showed off the beginnings of his spare tire to the world to walk in a mere fifteen minutes after mom had ducked out to make the call. He walked into the combined stares of all three of us without so much as a flinch, though he did plop down into an extra chair with a sigh when he realized I was more informed than he wanted.
“Detective Gosser, miss Del bosque. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the 19th, if I may.”
It took a moment to realize he had said miss, and not ms. He was talking to me, not my mom.
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Ah, one second.”
He pulled a small voice recorder from his pocket and made a show of speaking into it.
“This is detective Boyd Gosser questioning Lucretia del Bosque over the event that occurred May 19th, 2016.”
Lucretia? I looked at my mom, while she did her best to look innocent. Lucretia had been my grandmother's name, and Luke had been mom's way of naming me after her. I had already suspected what my name would have been had I been born a girl. We needed to have words, later.
“Please, in your own words, explain what happened last week; everything you can remember.”
I did so, already bored of telling this story. Repetition didn't make it any easier; the opposite in fact. All it did was drive home all that happened. I tried very hard not to cry again; I didn't want my embarrassing, blubbering tears to be a matter of public record. I failed, but managed to keep it together enough to finish. Then came all the questions; what else I saw, what else I remembered. The sun was setting and my throat was dry and raw by the time he turned his recorder off. Iron bunny picked up on that.
“I'll go get you something to drink.”
She left quietly as the detective retrieved the device. I had to ask.
“So what happens now?”
He paused, still showing no emotion. He must clean house on poker night.
“Now we prosecute. With your statement and all the corroborating evidence, we have a clear cut case of aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. Jamie Howe is going to be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.”
My mom was probably going to take this the wrong way, but I had to ask.
“You don't... need me to press charges?”
He shook his head, still unreadable.
“Your mother and the state are pressing charges, miss del Bosque. You are a minor.”
The meaning was loud and clear; while my being on board would help, it wasn't necessary, and any lack of support on my part wouldn't change a thing. I wasn't sure whether I would have pressed charges had it been up to me. I wasn't sure what to feel at all, other than drained.
“I understand. So, will you need me for anything else?”
“I don't believe so, though if I do, I'll let you know.”
“Of course.”
He left as Iron Bunny came back. She handed me a wonderfully chilled snapple, which I wasted no time at all downing. Then she pulled another from behind her back and placed it in my hands with a smirk; that one I took my time with.
“I don't blame you; water is for fish. You hungry at all?”
I shook my head. My stomach flopped dangerously at the very idea.
“Alright. Best not to ignore it if you are. How about the bathroom? Need that?”
I didn't, and I really didn't want to think about what that meant. How would I ever look at the nurses who took care of me without dying of embarrassment? And of course, just as I was thinking of the devil, one came in. I had wondered where the staff of the hospital had been up to this point.
She was mid twenties, brown hair and brown-eyed, about 5 foot 6 inches and with a lithe build. She had a ready grin and soft voice, and I bet she was pretty popular on this floor.
“Sorry you two, visiting hours are over. I'm afraid I will have to insist on it today. Go home, get some sleep.”
“Right, right. Oops, almost forgot.”
Ibby reached over into my personal space and fiddled with my ears. I couldn't even move her arms and she ignored my efforts. I felt something snap gently on each ear, and her massive bust retreated. As soon as she backed up I warily put my hands to my new appendages; each one sported some kind of clip near the base.
“There. You'll thank me later. Those clips are like mine.”
She pointed out a pair of small boxy clips that were painted white, and mostly blended into her own white furred ears while she continued explaining.
“They act as noise filtering devices, automatically lowering the volume of loud noises to manageable levels. I'd leave them in, without them sounds like doors slamming or hospital alarms could be painful.”
Joy. I'd noticed everyone being mostly quiet around me, but hadn't thought of the reason before. It should have been obvious. I pulled my hands away from the small devices. They felt weird and heavy, but at least they hadn't pierced my ears or something.
“They do come off, right? You didn't just....”
“Oh, no, they can come out. There is a switch on the bottom of each that releases them, when you need to replace the batteries or something. I'll bring the spares and the recharge station later... got to go!”
The nurse, still with that smile, started to push her out of the room; Ibby did not resist, but simply waved dramatically as she was shoved out of sight.
Mom stayed another moment, staring at me. Then before the nurse could interrupt, she gave me another crushing hug and left. I hoped she would be able to sleep; those chairs did not look comfortable, and I didn't doubt for a moment that she had spent the week in the one by my bed. For some reason, I felt tired myself, which seemed insane considering all the sleeping I had been doing.
“So, um, nurse' I looked at her name tag - “Jessica, How am I?”
She pulled out a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.
“Healthy, as best we can tell. I'm just here to get the standard metrics and compare them to the last week. You hungry at all?”
“No. why are you the first person I've seen? I mean, I would have thought being in a coma was a bigger deal here.”
“Well, the doctors did examine you earlier, gave you a pretty good once over. But as I understand it you were a bit out of it at the time, so it isn't surprising you don't remember. You had quite a shock to get over after all. And I'll bring you something to snack on in case you change your mind. For now, you should get some rest... right after I take some blood.”
As she pulled out the needle, still wearing that smile, I surrendered to the inevitable, looked away and presented my arm. I hated needles. I felt the needle and the tell-tale pull but she was fast.
She went on to my eyes, ears, and throat, scribbling stuff on my chart in that impossible to read jargon all medical professionals seemed to share.
“Well?”
I hated myself for asking.
“Perfectly healthy, all vitals green and no evidence of any infections. You had an MRI while still under, and the results for that came back today; negative on any lumps, growths, or other concerns. I'll be checking you again during the night, and the doctors will check you again in the morning, but your prognosis is that you're stable and healthy.”
Stable and healthy. As a bunny girl. With no way back; or at least no safe way back. Yay, me. The nurse reminded me she was still here.
“Hey. Don't give me that look; it could have been much worse. I've dealt with devisor tech before, and most of the time it goes wrong. And when it goes wrong, it goes very wrong. You're alive, and that's what counts.”
She seemed to want a response, so I nodded and she left, satisfied.
The television remote was near, but I didn't want to touch it. I didn't want to deal with whatever the news was saying about me, not right now. My phone was gone, for obvious reasons probably, and there was nothing that could access the internet in my room. There wasn't even a roommate to talk to; probably because they were worried about me being dangerous somehow, but it was still depressing.
Sleep seemed like the best plan at the moment.
......
I don't know when it was exactly, but the moon was shining into my window when something woke me up. I just lay there, trying to figure out what it had been. Maybe the night nurse, Jessica? She had already been by to check on me twice, waking me up both times to take my pulse and blood pressure, and I suspected just to see if I was stable and hadn't lapsed into a coma again.
No, it had been the door. But the footsteps I was hearing entering were less open, more... furtive. A faint clink informed me that my chart was being read. A doctor, then?
“Jessica? Is that you?”
I winced over my voice, it kept surprising me, but at least it was clear. The movements and breathing had stilled. Something was wrong here, very wrong. I hit the call button on my hospital bracelet, and rolled over to try and get a better look. A flash blinded me, and then I think there was another. I fumbled my way out of bed; was I being attacked again, or something? There was no pain, but....
The nurse came in, flipping the light.
“Luke, you alright?”
We both froze. There was a man in my room, with my chart in one hand, and a small camera in the other. He was rather tall but plain faced, and dressed in some tasteful slacks and a polo shirt. But despite him having a doctor's coat on over that, it was clear from the look on Jessica's face that he wasn't supposed to be there. Nurse Jessica didn't even hesitate, turning right around and shouting for security with a bellow that made the man wince. I was sure I'd have found that shout painful too, if not for the clips still in my ears.
The man was at my bedside in an instant, pressing something into my hand.
“Kurt Carmen, associated press. Please call me as soon as possible.”
And then he was gone, pushing past Jessica. A moment later I caught sight of two uniformed men chasing after him, just before the door closed. I looked; he had given me a business card with three phone numbers and a web address. Jessica immediately walked over and took it.
“I'm sorry about that. We've been doing what we could to keep them out, but apparently the guy on shift, Artie, decided to go on coffee break and not tell anyone. He will be reprimanded for it.”
That was all fine and good I guess, but it left out a pretty big question.
“What the heck was all that about?”
“Oh, you don't know?”
“Know what?" Mom and Ibby had said some things about the press earlier, but I had been having a good freak out earlier. Did that have something to do with this?
Jessica looked uneasy suddenly.
“Sorry, I shouldn't be the one to tell you this. But the press got a hold of your case, and are having a field day with it. Every day we've had to turn away reporters, and every night is a struggle too. That guy is the first one to get so close though. Don't worry, security has the floor locked down. They'll catch him.”
I was more worried about those flashes. Had I been fully covered when they occurred?
“He took photos.”
“I know kiddo, we'll get those too. He won't be able to send them inside the hospital, and we are perfectly within our rights to wipe the memory card and throw the book at him. Da- err darn ambulance chaser.”
I felt the corners of my lips tug up briefly. Then really focused; mom had told me there was a media circus going on over my case, but big enough to break into a hospital after hours? Seemed silly. Unreal. I couldn't process it.
A shift caught my attention; Jessica sitting down beside me.
“Hey, don't worry. It'll be O.K. I see all kinds of people come through here, in all kinds of conditions. They all share one thing. They all fight, win or lose. The guy next door from you? He's eighty and has both kidneys failing. He also has a weak heart. Both are the result of some sort of poisoning event in his past. I can't tell you what it is, exactly. What I can tell you is that he isn't giving up at all, he's a crusty old fart.
What I'm trying to say is, don't dwell on it. He didn't. The others on this floor haven't either. Live entirely in the moment if you have to, but don't let things overwhelm you. If you can't think about the future, if you feel lost, just don't think about it; you'll have plenty of time for that later.”
Sound advice... maybe. I wasn't so sure.
“Now, since I'm here, let's go ahead and get the next check out of the way!”
She bounced up and flipped the lights off, pulling out that blinding penlight of hers.
......
My seatmate interrupted, so I finished off my drink. Something about the plane cabin made my throat dry up faster.
“So, I don't remember any photos of you in hospital garb....”
“Nah, security caught the guy, true to Jessica's word. He never made it to the roof, where apparently he might have been able to get a signal over his blocked phone; they tackled him on the stairwell and then brought him back. I verified it was the guy, we made sure the phone was the same one, with the same memory stick, then destroyed both in front of him.”
“I bet that went over well.”
I smiled at the memory.
“He cried like a baby. Apparently the phone was pretty expensive. They ended up arresting him too; the detective in charge said I wouldn't have to do anything. I later heard he got probation and banned from entering that particular hospital again.”
It was kind of a good thing he wasn't local, come to think of it; that hospital was the best one in the entire county.
“Just desserts I say. Trying to take pictures of a minor while in a hospital is fairly deplorable.”
“Well I can't really argue with you there; some people are truly smarmy. Anyway, the staff didn't find anything unusual, or more unusual than normal I guess, and I was allowed to get some sleep....”
......
Sleeping sucked. Or rather, the act of trying to get to sleep when you had a tail that just seemed to be a piece of spine and a million clusters of sensitive nerve endings prevented you from finding a good position to sleep on your back. So of course, sleeping on your stomach was a no go because you had a sensitive... front, and couldn't lay flush against the mattress that way either.
And no matter what you tried, your stupid ears and hair tangled themselves and got in the way.
Some people got daily reminders of how much life hated them; I got up-to-the-second updates.
So it was a bit of a surprise when the nurse (a different one than the night nurse, named Peggy by her tag) woke me up by opening the blinds.
“Up and at 'em, kiddo! Got some last minute things to do, then you'll be out of here. Breakfast first, of course!”
I pulled myself up as she wheeled one of those hospital trays that fit over a bed over; I even managed not to catch something or get tangled up. She pulled the cover off with a smile to reveal… oatmeal, toast, and juice. It didn't even look to be the good stuff.
“I know that look. Eat up! It don't matter if you don't like it, your body needs food. If you don't eat it, you don't get released.”
I ate, and we studied each other over my food. She literally sat down and watched me eat it, which seemed a little odd to me; surely she had something better to do? I'd have asked her except it was rude to talk with your mouth full, and I was starving. I tried to take it slow though; if Mom walked in and saw me pigging out it wouldn't go well for me.
I looked up as I finished, and saw the nurse doing a crossword puzzle while waiting for me. I knew she hadn't left, of course. I also knew the patient a few doors down from me had a really nasty cough, and his door was open. Or maybe it was a her with a nasty cold, it wouldn't do to assume. The nurse looked up after a moment and started.
“Oh, sorry. Let me just clear the tray and we can get going.”
“Excuse me, but why did you stay in here? Is something wrong?”
She laughed. “No more than the usual; and I stayed because hospital food isn't always agreeable to everyone, and I'd rather hold a bucket than a mop.”
Well, that made sense, in a totally disheartening way.
“Alright, so, testing.”
She wheeled up a wheelchair; and of course she was serious.
“I feel fine; can't I just walk there?”
I was lying of course; I felt weird, a stranger inside my own skin, and probably always would. This body… it wasn't really mine. Peggy seemed to be on to the ruse.
“Nope! Hospital rules – even if you weren't a coma patient on the mend, you'd have to take a seat; so take a seat.”
I took the seat, and she wheeled me down the halls. It only took a few feet to wish I'd had something a little less flimsy and a little more covering that the gown I was wearing; something like a box, or a bag over my head. People were staring, and they weren't even being subtle about it. I scrunched up as best I could so they had less to stare at; it didn't really work.
The halls were nearly deserted at least, as well as the back elevator Peggy wheeled me into. There were actual cops in the halls, placed at the elevators and nurse's station. Were they here for me? Because of that guy last night? Four cops seemed too many for that.
The first test was X-rays. Standing in front of a machine with only socks to cut the cold of the tile floor while that irritating hum droned on. The doctors and nurses just put their heads together and whispered, but wouldn't show me the actual results. The only thing I could tell from the glimpse I caught was that my new tail did in fact have bone in it. They broke after a few minutes and Peggy came back.
“Well?”
“Well, everything looks normal to us. We'll be sending it off to an expert to give it a better look.”
“Normal, how?”
“Good bone density, good structure, well placed, good looking marrow. So far as we can see no tumors or cysts, no odd growths of any kind, internally. So, normal.”
Well, that was good I guess. Peggy wasted no time leading me back to the chair. Obligingly I got in.
“So, next test is the MRI. We've had one every day you've been here, to document changes. Doctor Ladoga, that's the specialist in charge of your case, wants the clean sweep. Now, there are two choices here; the first is we can sedate you, and the second is you can simply lay in the machine for an hour without moving.”
That wasn't a hard choice at all; if I was awake I'd never be able to stay still.
“Just sedate me.”
Peggy grinned.
“I was kind of hoping you'd say that. You look like you could use the rest anyway. But the problem with that is if we do things that way, we need to depart this lab for the one next door and draw blood first, to ensure a clean sample. You aren't afraid of needles, are you?”
I was a bit.
“Not really.”
We went across the hall and she took my blood. She had steady hands, and a variety of needles, including one that looked quite capable of taking blood through power armor. Thankfully she didn't need that one; the standard needle worked fine. The blood looked normal enough; I mean it wasn't green or anything.
“Alright. Time for the fun stuff.”
Peggy held out a pill and a cup of water. I took it and was wheeled back into the first lab. No sooner had I lay down on the cushioned slab then I woke up on it, with arms and legs strapped down. I was about to panic when Peggy appeared in my vision, a strap in her hands.
“All done, just unstrapping you. Have to strap in the sleepers to make sure they don't shift; some of them get a bit restless.”
I was still in the hospital, and I recognized all the people. Peggy got my hands and feet while I got my waist (they really didn't want me to move an inch) and then it was back into the wheelchair, and on the way to some other exotic locale.
“So, how did it look?”
“Everything looked fine and healthy; no problems at all. I think you're good to go, just a few more tests to go, and then it's back upstairs.”
The next test was, oddly enough, a vision test. I looked in the machine and rattled off all the lines, only realizing after the fact that I couldn't do that before.
Peggy raised an eyebrow at me and moved a dial.
“Again,”
This time, I was able to read two lines more than halfway down.
“I can't read the rest.”
“Alright. Next step.”
The next step turned out to be flashing lights to the left or right just inside my vision; they even parked a few flashes over my nose, which seemed weird. I called them as I saw them, as I was supposed to.
“Last step, hold still please.”
A light came on and flashed my eyeballs; blue or green or some mix in between, it didn't hurt at all.
“Alright, all done. Your vision is 20/9, which puts you just under the best visual acuity ever recorded for a normal person. The interesting thing is your peripheral vision is either as good or almost as good as your normal line of sight vision, and your eyeball shape is perfect. Nothing bad at all there.”
She smiled, but I knew what she was telling me. My eyes were weird; my eyes were weird and I hadn't even noticed; while my vision had been good before, it hadn't been that good. And yet her word choice led me to believe she had seen better, either in person or from reading somewhere.
The next test was hearing. The normal headphones for the test wouldn't fit someone whose ears had migrated up and changed shape, so we ended up scrapping the test idea, though Penny and doctor Lagoda did look in my ears. Once they had stopped pawing at them they actually went into another room to talk, which of course did wonders for my confidence. It would be pretty ironic to get ears like this, then go deaf as a result.
I waited, kicking my feet idly in the air until they came back in.
“Well? Cancer of the ear?”
Peggy laughed.
“No, nothing like that. The shape of your inner ear has changed a little though, so we had to consult with a few other people. Everything checks out as normal for your new ear structure, and your hearing should be top notch. The MCO should be able to test it, once we clear you for that.”
Wait, what?
“What would the MCO want with me? I mean, I'm not a mutant.”
Just a guy who got shot by his jealous girlfriend, move along, nothing to see here.
“Well, they will want to test you, and they have more experience at it than we do. The Redding field office is actually good at this sort of thing, and might catch a… complication that we miss. So despite the horror stories you may have heard or read on the net, it's probably a good idea.”
She hit my knees with a rubber hammer while I thought it over, idly brushing my hair out of my face. I couldn't just tuck it behind an ear anymore after all… and it was weird. No one said anything, but seeing someone that had head hair growing where their ears should be had to be a little off-putting. Well, at least where the top half of my ear used to be; yet no one was saying anything.
Peggy noticed my fumbling and grinned.
“I foresee cut bangs or hair clips in your future. Alright, reflexes check out, let's see what's next.”
She consulted her chart, hanging on the back of my chair.
“Hm, next is… well, that's just stupid. We can skip that one. I think we're done here, and just in time, too.”
A stupid test at a hospital? “Just in time for what?”
“Early release and an early lunch. Your mom is waiting upstairs.”
I really liked Peggy. If I had to come back here I'd ask for her by name.
“Thanks.”
She started wheeling. “No problem kiddo. I can only imagine how badly you want out of here. I don't see any reason to keep you.”
Back upstairs Mom was waiting in the lone chair next to my empty bed, fidgeting. Iron Bunny was there too, fiddling with the remains of my breakfast tray. Surely she couldn't be that hungry. It was kind of surprising she'd be here anyway.
Mom shot out of the chair the moment she saw us.
“Well, how is she?”
And immediately she acts like I'm not even here.
“She's fine, Mrs. Del Bosque. No anomalies other than the obvious ones, and no signs of cancer or any malignancies, or even anything out of the ordinary, internally. No sign of instability at all, so far. She's a perfectly healthy girl.”
Yes, stable and perfectly healthy. Never mind that stable meant I was trapped this way barring a miracle.
“And the obvious ones?”
“The ears and the tail both have brought some minor structural changes with them, of course. We will have to wait and see for anything else. Perhaps the MCO testing will turn up something, but I doubt it. There are no signs of the stronger aspects of your mutation, Iron Bunny.”
Iron bunny shrugged.
“It takes awhile sometimes; it did in my case, at least until the regen kicked in.”
“No evidence of any of that, at least yet. The standard hypodermic worked, and the mark didn't fade.”
There was still a band-aid holding gauze over the crook of my elbow, and Iron Bunny glanced at it before crossing the distance in a stride, grabbing my arm, and peeling it off.
“What are you doing, exactly?”
Her hand was like a vise; I couldn't move at all, even though she was gentle about it. The drop of blood welling from the needle wound was clearly evident to all.
“Sorry.”
She covered it back up and let me go. Mom walked up and flicked her nose; just what was that about?
“Idiot.”
“I'm sorry, it was the easiest way to check! No regen though, which is odd. I wouldn't think you'd change so fast without it. Heck it took my ears months to fully grow, the first time. I had a really awkward growing up phase before I became the amazing package you see today.”
Pfft, ego much?
Oh God, and here I was, able to pass for her frumpy sister. Mom knelt beside me.
“Alright, so, ready to get out of here?”
I nodded and jumped up.
“I was ready hours ago if everything checked out. When can we leave?”
“Soon, we got a few things to do before we can go. Your Mom needs to fill out paperwork… and we need to go play spy.”
I'm sure that at some point Iron Bunny would talk sense. As it was, she wasn't doing her reputation any favors.
“Play spy?”
I waved to Mom as Penny pulled her out of the room.
“I'm just down the hall, honey!”
Yes Mom, thanks, Mom, I know Mom.
Iron Bunny beckoned me over to the window; she was to the side of it, peering through a slight gap her fingers made in the blinds. I walked over and she pulled me to her spot.
“Carefully look out there.”
I did… and under me and to the right, in front of entrance to the hospital, was a circus.
Of course, it wasn't a regular circus, but I now fully understood what a media circus was. There were vans parked along the street in at least a drove, if not droves, and loads of reporters and cameras. There was a food cart down there! Cops were actually patrolling behind yellow tape, keeping them back. A CNN van was parked next to a BBC one, and one I didn't recognize. But, the BBC?!? Did that mean they knew about me in Britain?!?
No, wait, that couldn't be for me. There had to be a sick senator or something, further up. I mean, even though that guy had snuck in my room last night, there was no way this could all be for me… could it? I turned back to Iron Bunny, hoping she'd tell me I was just being silly.
“Yep, that's all for you. The media got a hold of your story just like we told you yesterday, and pretty soon 'Teen mutated for cheating by devisor girlfriend' was plastered on all the major papers and news blogs.
“But I didn't! It was all a big misunderstanding!”
Iron Bunny ruffled my hair with a smile as she pulled me away from the window.
“I know, kiddo; I believe you. But newsies are like hungry animals smelling weakness. They don't really care about the details if it makes a good story, or they can twist it into one. And the story here is that you cheated. Anyone who knows the whole story knows you didn't cheat. But what's really funny is the Mutant Commission Office also stepped in, and has been telling the truth about the event, for once. There have even been talk shows on the case, at least, the details released by the cops.”
“Talk shows? How would that even work? It was just a week ago!”
“Never underestimate the ability of people to jump on a bandwagon, kiddo, or to try and ride that bandwagon as far as they can for money, power or notoriety. But enough about all that, what it means for us is we need to disguise you if you're getting out of here without all that outside turning on us. I have no problem with my adoring public, even the vultures, but something tells me you might. So let old aunty Ibby here show you how to go incognito.”
I eyed my ears in the mirror she placed me in front of. Experimentally I tried to focus on moving it, and it perked up obediently.
“There is no way to hide these. They're just too big unless I use a hood or something, and even then that'd be suspicious.”
Iron Bunny – or was it Ibby – nodded and produced a sun hat.
“That's why we're not going to, not exactly. It's officially summer, so one of these won't be out of place on a beach goer who happened to twist an ankle. That's you, by the way. So the idea is we put you in a sun dress, and tape your ears to the underside of the hat so that if they are seen, well, then you just have a weird looking hat. I've used this trick before, and it works, though I've never tried it with someone whose ears are black and purple. White goes better with the illusion, you see.”
There was absolutely no way that was going to work.
Iron bunny wrapped my ankle first, then handed me a bag with a dress in it. I looked at her. She looked back at me, blinking.
“Can I have some privacy, please?”
“What? Oh, sure! Sorry.”
She walked out of the bathroom, but didn't shut the door, so I did.
There was more than the white sun dress; there was also a pair of panties in the bag. Nothing to quite bring reality crashing in on you than to slip those on and realize you didn't need support anymore. The dress had purple accents; I slipped it on and opened the door. Iron bunny was inside again before it could swing open.
“Got it on? Good. Hm, let's see.”
She squished a hat on my head; it was white tightly woven wicker, obviously painted. I felt her spread my ears away from my head and felt the sticky pressure of double sided tape. It was strong tape; I could probably pull it off if I tried, but I wasn't sure my ears alone had the strength. I tried to keep them from moving anyway; having the hat wiggle as I walked by someone would be bad.
“Not quite, your ears sort of stand out. But I came prepared!”
Iron Bunny pulled out a strip of cloth, black laced with purple. It didn't quite match the fur on my ears but it was close. When she wove it around the hat so it would drape down a little, it did manage to camouflage my new ears, as long as no one looked too closely. The dress didn't do a thing to hide the tail on it's own, but Iron Bunny threw a shawl over my shoulders; it was black and almost as large as a blanket; it draped almost to my knees.
“Now, I'm going to try to help here, but this part is tricky. Do you have any kind of control over your tail? It looks like you should, but… well, just try to move it.”
I focused, and eventually found the trick to it.
“Good, you do. Now, try and hold it up against your body, please.”
I moved it up. It wasn't easy to hold there; it was like flexing a muscle or lifting a weight. I heard tape peeled, and the pressure went away.
“Sorry, it wasn't going to work unless I taped it. It'll probably hurt a lot, later.”
We made our way out of the room; Iron bunny led the way after checking the corridor by sticking her head out in a very suspicious manner. She waved me up, then sat me firmly back in the wheelchair I had been using.
Mom was talking to two doctors and Penny as we walked up. Even with my new ears in the position they were in, I could hear them.
“If there is any change in her condition, any change at all, no matter how minor, you should bring her back here immediately. Any change at all could lead to a destabilization of her condition.”
Peggy chimed in.
“That includes the emergence of any powers, too. So far we've noted nothing, but you should be watchful.”
The she turned and her eyes swept past me… and then snapped back again. Just like that she fought a smile and failed; my eyes were mostly obscured by the cloth, but I saw that much.
“Great, I look stupid.”
Mom heard me, turned around, and started. Her attempt to reassure me seemed a little flat.
“No, Tia. You look fine! You look very natural. The hat might be just a tiny bit much, though.”
“It's okay, as long as we match, no one will look twice. They will just blame eccentric old me.”
I looked over at Iron Bunny. Her hat was just as draped as mine was, her ears hidden but her eyes visible; she looked like she was modeling beach wear. She also had a shawl over her tail, but I could just make out the bump there. I wondered how much of mine was visible.
“Ready to find the back door?” Penny asked with a smile.
I nodded. It was still hard to believe the press was here for me, but I had no reason to doubt it. Even if they weren't it just made sense to stay out of their way.
The back entrance actually turned out to be the ambulance entrance; it was right next to the ER entrance, which was on the other side of the hospital from where I was. There were a few reporters watching, but they didn't even bat an eye when we walked out behind a few EMT's and I played the part of gingerly getting out of my chair and limping. I tried very much not to oversell it, but it seemed the blood was in the water already. One reporter, an older woman in a maroon pantsuit that did nothing nice for her at all, dropped a cigarette on the pavement and motioned to her cameraman while staring at Mom the entire time.
We might have made a slight miscalculation here; Mom didn't have a disguise, and it looked like at least this reporter knew her. Mom immediately turned and muttered out of the corner of her mouth while walking away from us.
“Just act like you don't know me. Take a left and go to the tan Ford at the end, Ibby knows which one.”
Iron Bunny… Ibby… led me away while the reporter tried her best to corner Mom. The rest of the pack that had been present followed suit hungrily but ignored us after a cursory glance.
At least at first. Then one of the reporters, a young handsome blond man with wild, wind blown hair, stopped, and looked back at us. I faced forward in a hurry, trying not to make eye contact, but it did no good.
“Hey, Iron Bunny! Any comments for us on the state of Luke Del Bosque?”
He wasn't looking at Ibby. He was looking at me; I knew it, I could feel his gaze trying to bore it's predatory way into my disguise.
Ibby cursed, muttered something about pin up posters, and grabbed my hand, and reeled me in like I was a fish. With an arm around my waist we lifted a few inches off the ground and started rocketing along. My gaze met Ibby's, taking in her wry grin.
“Normally, I'm all for meeting my fans and the press, but I really don't think you're up to this today.”
I shook my head, agreeing with her. We set down in front of an old rusty tan car that I knew my Mom didn't own; maybe it was Ibby's? She set me gently down in front of the passenger door and then hopped over the car to the driver's side.
I noticed the reporters had stopped chasing us as I got in and belted up, and many were running back to where they were hanging out.
“Did they give up?”
Ibby snorted.
“Heck no, kid. They went to go get their vans; this is a chase now. Don't worry, I'm an old hand at this; they won't catch us.”
Ibby had been nice so far, and it was probably unfair to her, but I didn't want to be alone with her.
“But what about Mom?”
“Your Mom will catch up, kiddo. She knows this song and dance almost as well as I do. Right now, the best thing we can do is just avoid all this until you're ready. Now, all strapped in? Good cause here we go!”
She didn't bother with her seat belt. The car turned over with a flemy roar, and she wasted no time, almost clipped the car parked in front of her. We were probably doing forty before we hit the end of the parking lot, and Ibby didn't even slow down to merge with traffic. I tried to force my hands to let go of the old armrests and was rewarded with color flooding back into my knuckles.
“So, where to kiddo? I don't know about you, but I'm famished. I could really go for some lunch right now.”
I looked behind us; the procession of speeding vans with radar dishes atop them was just starting; the police were probably going to pull us all over and throw us in jail.
“Yeah, a burger sounds nice right about now.”
A burger did not, after all, sound nice. It wasn't nice at all. I fell as another cramp hit, my stomach twisting itself into a pretzel despite the fact that the offending piece of meat was long gone, back the way it came. I dry heaved a few times as a car door slammed; Ibby stepped around the car and lifted me up.
“Hate you so much right now.”
Ibby didn't seem at all offended; if anything she was contrite, and making some sort of pouty scolded puppy face.
“Aw, come on, don't be that way. I couldn't say anything, I wasn't sure if you'd… inherited the condition or not. I didn't want to tell you not to do it, if you actually could.”
It seems that people with Iron Bunny's BIT… could not eat meat. Ibby herself told me that it was theorized to be from her digestion being too efficient, and then told me my guts are likely to shrink. She seemed to infer that was desirable, somehow. I thought she was full of crap or deluded on both counts.
But either way the fact is, Ibby let me order a burger, a nice burger with everything on it, and waited while I discovered (it took all of five bites) what a bad idea that was. Then rather than drive me back to the hospital for something that was clearly a change in my condition, she drove me to her house.
Her house was a large one, set far back in the hills amidst the redwoods, much like my home town was. Unlike my home town, the appearance of location was an illusion; the place wasn't more than fifteen minutes from Redding itself.
It was a large cabin, all weathered and stained logs on the outside for a rustic look, and with matching shed and garage. The scale was much larger than any pioneer had ever managed, however; It was two stories and sprawling, with a porch and even a porch swing.
Ibby was single, last I'd heard. This seemed like a lot of space for a single woman. On the plus side it was also pretty isolated; it had taken Ibby some doing to lose the reporters from the hospital in order to stop for my late lamented burger.
Ibby picked me up and brushed me off. “You okay to walk?”
“Yeah, the fit or whatever has passed for now.”
She grinned brightly at me; the sunlight could probably blind people reflecting off her teeth.
“Good, I know the best cure for that sort of thing. Let's go inside and get you fixed up.”
“Where's Mom?”
Ibby tossed me her phone as she fumbled with her keys without a word. The phone was unlocked, and a text was showing clearly.
“First house compromised; go to the 2nd, on my way – Strella.”
The number was my Mom's phone.
“We prepared for this.” Ibby said as she went inside, flinging her hat like a Frisbee with a sigh. It ended up on a coat-rack.
My own fling was less well aimed, and I was forced to go back and pick the hat up while massaging my ears. It felt weird when the fur on them was the wrong way. I also pulled the tape on my tail off with a wince. A quick check revealed no fur on any of the tape, which struck me as odd.
Ibby came over and looked too; she shrugged and took the tape from me, heading for what had to be the kitchen.
The living room was very posh and put the lie to the rustic cabin impression outside. There were still the slat wood walls, but they fit together too neatly be anything other than machined; there were electric lights designed to look like oil lamps, a television and one of the new holo-visions were both hanging on the wall, the sound system wasn't more than three years old. The large throw rug, spread across the wood floor was a thick, plush thing. There were trophy heads decorating the walls, and a 'stuffed' polar bear growling in one corner, but even from a distance, I could tell they were fake.
The only thing that looked real to the time period the house was built to mimic was the large stone fireplace… and there was a grill next to it. Not the wire mesh kind (though one of those was close) but an actual outdoor kind, sitting on the stone portion of the floor, in the house.
There were three remotes on the ancient teak coffee table. One had to be to the television, the other to the holo-vision, maybe the third was the sound system? It didn't look like a stock remote, though.
“That's the house remote.”
I looked up to find Ibby coming back, two cokes in one hand, and a bowl in the other. With a start, I realized my hand was already halfway to the remote in question, and my ears were twitching. Why were my ears twitching? I pulled my hand back quickly.
“What does a house remote control?”
“Oh, the lights, the central air, the door locks and alarm, the hot tub floor hatch, those sorts of things. Don't worry, if we end up staying here, I'll show you what each button does.”
Wait, stay here? We?
“Why would we stay here?”
“Well, um. Kiddo, the media are sort of camping out your house. So are a few other less than savory people. It's easier just to avoid them for now; since they aren't actually breaking the law the cops can't do much more than ask them to leave.”
This was a nice place, but I didn't want to stay here. I wanted to go home. I didn't belong here, with this bunny woman.
No matter how much my twitching ears told me otherwise.
I sat down on the couch; it was very soft. Ibby set one of her cokes in front of me on a coaster and sat on the other side. A flick of the television remote and it was on, showing CNN. She flicked that off in a hurry, but not before I noticed my name, my old name, in the ticker crawl on the bottom with a picture of the hospital I'd just recently checked out of over it. She slapped the bowl down; it was full of some green looking almost pear thing cut into slices… an avocado.
“The best thing to cure the meat heaves, I've found.”
I took one as the television turned to a movie on demand. Some drug-addled guy selling drugs for money, trying to avoid getting squashed like a bug. Some movie of the week style thing with so-so acting and a bad plot. The avocado wasn't bad; I had it finished halfway through the movie. Ibby snagged a few pieces herself, but I got most of it. I wasn't sorry about that either, not after what she pulled.
Mom arrived shortly after, a shopping bag in hand. She looked pretty frazzled as she kicked off her shoes and threw her coat; it landed on the rack too.
“What happened to you?”
I wasn't hiding my lingering anger as well as I thought I was, I guess.
“Your friend here,” they had to be friends, they mentioned something like that yesterday, “decided not to tell me that eating meat could potentially make me sick. So when we stopped to get lunch at the drive-through, I ordered a burger and fries.”
I hadn't even been able to look at the fries afterward. Mom winced and shifted her gaze. She was in on it too?
“Sorry. I didn't want to pile on the maybes; yesterday was bad enough. The plan was to test for these sorts of things. However the test was supposed to be later, and I was going to mention it first.”
I see.
“So any other things I haven't been told? Any other tests like that to be conducted?”
Any other horribly nasty surprises I need to worry about? Ibby looked like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar, but mom met my eyes.
“Yes Luke, there are. There are a couple more nasty conditions that could potentially develop. If you ask, I'll even tell you what they are. But you're alive and healthy, and you're my child, and I love you.”
Did I want to know? How badly did I want to know? Mom seemed to think just worrying over what could be was preferable to having grounded fears, which was pretty scary. But was it really better? Mom took my hand and we sat down.
“I think I want to know. If I don't, I'll just worry about it until I do.”
Ibby beat Mom to the punch.
“I'll do it, Strella. How much do you know about me, kiddo?”
Well, that wouldn't take long to answer. The hardest thing would be being polite about it.
“I know you were a hero for a couple decades. I know you have some history with Playboy, and know Hugh Hefner personally.”
Every boy knew about the old Playboy centerfolds; when Playboy went digital they even re-released them. They even included the articles and interviews, and in those, Ibby was supposed to be a bit of a free spirit, which was something I could easily believe.
“Right, well that's a start. I mutated in the 60's, and went from an awkward gangly teen to the vision of hawtness you see before you.”
She actually managed to stress the word like that, so that it came out 'hawtness'. Mom cleared her throat meaningfully.
“Right, getting serious. There are three problems with my BIT… weaknesses, if you will. The first is the meat thing, but that's actually just a nuisance since I don't seem to require the nutrition at all. The second is the ears and tail, they are just big enough to need special clothes for and be hard to hide…' She didn't sound merely put out about those, for some reason; I could relate. She took a deep breath and forged ahead.
“But the third thing is a kicker. I am, for whatever reason, a nymphomaniac. An actual one, not the fake ones that just claim it. As a result, I have issues sometimes with modesty, propriety, and impulse control. I even take medication for it, and have for years.”
She just looked at me, as it sank in.
“Oh. Oh, no. No no no. You're trying to say….”
She grinned as Mom hugged me. “I'm not saying anything. The doctors couldn't find any trace of my condition in you, and in any case, the medication works wonders. But it does explain why your ex decided to blast you with my BIT over others, sort of.”
“Ibby Iverson!”
Ibby weathered Mom's yell with remarkable aplomb. “Sorry Strella, but I'm not the only one thinking that. Even the cops are running with that theory.”
I did not want to become at all like Ibby; she was a nice flake, I think, but she was still a flake. I most especially did not want any of what she was saying. I was raised catholic and hadn't lapsed yet. Jamie and I hadn't even done more than kiss, we had been waiting for marriage... and Ibby didn't strike me as the waiting type.
“Did...did Jamie say why, at all?” I hated my stumbling tongue.
Mom sat down beside me, forcing me to scoot over. “No Luke… she hasn't said much of anything, really. She's… well, Jamie isn't well.”
That chilled to the bone; 'not well' was my mother's way of saying insane.
I couldn't help myself; I worried about her, after all that had happened, all that she'd done. What was wrong with me?
“Can we just finish the movie?”
Ibby tapped me on an ear. “Nope. Finished while you were yakking, so now we have to watch a whole new one. I'll go get another avocado.”
“Bring me something to drink back, would you?” mom asked her.
“Sure!” Ibby disappeared into the kitchen.
A good time to ask; I was sure that if I could hear Ibby puttering around (and I could) she could hear us, but my questions were polite and innocent enough.
“So, you and Iron Bunny, huh? I didn't know she was a client of yours.”
Mom grinned. “You don't know many of my clients. Some of whom are even villains and politicians. I happen to manage many different people with issues, and she was one. I've done right by her and a few friends of hers, and now I'm calling in favors.”
“Favors?” I didn't like the sound of that.
“No, not like that, Luke! Ibby wanted to help. Heck, she… well, I think she half views this as her fault. The favors come from a different source; like this cabin. It's not ours, and it's not Ibby's, which makes it much harder to trace back to us and therefore safe enough from the press to stay at.”
Ibby was waiting in the hall. I knew she was, and she knew I knew, but she was giving us a little space. I debated about saying it, but couldn't see why I shouldn't just speak the truth.
“That's really stupid. Ibby can't be held at fault for what someone does with her DNA or whatever unless she handed it to them, and the think-tank she handed it off to was supposed to be about helping people. No one should hold her responsible; I don't.”
The real one at fault was Jamie, with a rather large side helping of manipulative bitch. Ibby had been taking a risk, trying to help people.
“Snacks are here!” Ibby announced as she entered the room, cokes in one hand, avocado bowl in the other.
“Just in time for the crappy show to start.” I grabbed a piece from the bowl as she set it down; if she didn't want to make a big deal out of what I said or hearing it, I was fine with that. Just hoped she'd grant me the same courtesy later; my hearing probably extended for miles now.
******
“So your first day out, you just found a place to relax and watch movies? I doubt I could be so… laid back.” The business man was on his second drink by now, which was all the airline was going to alot him.
It made him a little louder than I'd have liked, and our third seatmate was paying more attention; I was pretty sure he was just pretending to watch the football game that was on his phone. I was pretty sure he wasn't hearing me, though; my whisper couldn't be carrying that far.
“Well - I didn't have much choice, actually. What was I going to do? I was out of the hospital, but still recovering. I was very tired. In fact, I fell asleep on the couch, and the two adults moving around didn't even wake me. In fact… no, I'll get to it, you'll just have to be patient.”
******
I woke suddenly, experiencing a moment of disorientation that almost saw me hit the floor. Right, I was on a comfy couch, and covered in warm blankets, and it was now very dark.
Perfect.
I stretched as best I could to cover my look around. As best as I could tell, no one else was awake. I couldn't see much, but true to form, with my clips dialed down, I could hear everything. Even the soft even breathing of two adults in separate bedrooms upstairs. Heck, I was pretty sure I was hearing a mouse or some other small creature in the walls, somewhere near the kitchen.
Well, it was almost perfect. I hadn't been told what the security code was, and if I tried to open a door or window I'd set it off, and I really had places I needed to be.
Luckily enough, I could also hear what sounded like a breeze rattling a loose window pane coming from upstairs… near one of the adults. Moving slowly and carefully enough that I barely made any noise at all to my ears, I grabbed Mom's car keys from the foyer table and held onto them.
I was still in the stupid dress disguise, but I wasn't going to worry about that now. I wasn't cold and trying to change clothes was a risk. I did grab the shoes, though; they fit and I didn't think my feet were calloused anymore. I tied them together and wrapped them around my neck.
The room turned out to be Iron Bunny's, and the door was open. So was the window across from the door, and there was indeed a breeze rattling a loose window pane in it. I tiptoed to it over the thick carpet, keeping my eyes averted so as not to tempt fate.
I didn't even need to move the window; I could fit right out of it, and there was an unfurled canvas awning for a patio under it. With the window already open the alarm was inert here, right? At least that's how it worked back home.
Sticking my leg outside didn't cause anything to go off. I was able to avoid any awkwardness because my feet touched the awning before I needed to use my hands to hang out the window. A good thing because I doubted I could hold on with one hand anymore.
The awning was strong enough to hold my weight with no signs of tearing, something I couldn't really test but was glad for. I shimmied down it and realized I still had a good six or seven feet of empty space under it. No help for it, I put the key fob in my teeth and grabbed the edge, easing off.
Seems I had been right not to trust my new body; I only managed to hang on for a few seconds before I fell, landing on my feet. My feet made a muted slap on the concrete, and it stung fiercely for a moment. I waited, but it seemed the Iron Bunny hadn't heard it, so I put the shoes on and eased around to the front.
Chances were Iron Bunny at least would hear Mom's car start; would she wake up? I couldn't exactly walk the distance. I could try putting it in neutral and pushing, but if I didn't have enough strength to hold myself from a window, I doubted I could push Mom's car; it was a full sedan. I was an idiot; I really should have thought things through before diving out an open window; now I was stuck.
But I had to know. I had to go home.
I got in the car and started it up, then waited. There was no response, either from inside the cabin or out. Neither Mom nor Iron Bunny came out yelling and waving their arms, or anything like that – so I put the car in gear and drove.
I was super careful. If I was stopped, the cops would arrest me for only driving on a permit, or for stealing the car if I couldn't prove who I was. And even at night, there was enough light around to get a good look at my ears; I shouldn't have left that silly hat behind. At least the highway out was dark. Now that I knew where the cabin was, I was sure I could navigate back to it; it was only twenty minutes from home, using the back roads.
Iron Bunny flew in front of me just before I was about to turn onto my street; I almost wrecked the car. Heart jack-hammering, I pulled over and parked.
She didn't look angry, just concerned and maybe a bit amused. She also didn't have Mom with her.
“So, where exactly do you think you're going, Luke?” As if she didn't know.
“Home, of course. I wanted something other than this stupid dress to wear.” And I wanted to see it. My home, my block, my street.
“I could have loaned you something.” There was definitely amusement there.
“I don't want 'something'; I want my own clothes.” My own things. If I couldn't have my house, I'd settle for that much – but I wouldn't settle for less.
“Hm… follow me, quietly.” Ibby tiptoed across the street like a big kid; I rolled my eyes and followed, as silent as she was despite walking normally. She took cover behind a large tree and I followed; we didn't blend in at all, her with her coloration and me with my dress, but it seemed we didn't need to.
The entire street was a circus.
There were more vans and other vehicles parked on the street than there had been on station at the hospital. There was almost no room for a car to pass on the two lane road, and there was no way at all for two cars to pass each other. The reporters and cameramen and whoever else? It looked like a convention had set up shop, right there on the street. There were lights set up everywhere.
There were even tents on certain lawns, some lit with people moving in them. It was insane.
“Now do you see why we didn't take you home, kiddo?” Ibby whispered, looking not at the circus, but at me.
I nodded. It was one thing to hear about it, but another thing entirely to see it. I still wasn't about to leave empty handed though; I was going to get punished for doing this anyway, so I was going to get what I came for.
Ibby read it in me. “Right, of course you're going to be stubborn. Alright, look. I'll go ahead and get the stuff you want; the press won't bother me. You stay here - no wait, second thought, if I come back to the car they may follow. You go find an out of the way spot to wait, and stay out of trouble, alright?”
She moved off and I had to stop her. I handed her the car keys. “I'll wait at the park on the other side of town; it's on this street, can't miss it. If the reporters are going to follow you to the car, they will either follow it or wait for me to come back, so try and keep that in mind.”
She gave me a look. “Good point. Alright then. Give me a little bit.”
She took off, floating above the mess, and I moved before someone got the idea to track her path back to her take-off point.
It was late enough that no one was out, though I did have to dodge a Redding patrol car. I was friends with all our police, but I really didn't want to get stopped; if I did, Mom would know what I'd done come morning. I wasn't sure I could convince Ibby to cover for me, but I was sure I stood a better chance with her than anyone else Mom knew.
It only took two blocks to realize I had made a serious mistake in my choice of locations; the park was a favorite haunt, nothing wrong there… but Jamie's house was down this street too. I stopped across from it; it looked normal. There was no sign of the broken door, no police tape… the only sign I could see was a patch of yard burned totally clear of grass; even in the dim light the soil looked coated with ash. The mark extended to the driveway concrete, and it looked like some steps had been made to wash it off. The car was still parked where it had been, but the dent I was pretty sure I'd put in it was gone.
I was across the street and staring at the spot before I realized it. It seemed like such a small thing; I felt there should be more of a sign. I bent over and felt it; there was grass seed mixed in with the wet ash.
I took another step and some automatic lights snapped on; right, those were new, and it was time to go.
I couldn't run more than a block before shuddering to a gasping messy halt. My body was absolute crap; my stamina was just gone. The only good news was aside from a dog about three streets away, there was no other sounds of life.
Still, the dog had stopped barking before I got my breathing and rubbery muscles back under me.
The park was dark and empty; there were only two large lights on either side of it, and one of those had a broken bulb. It was the go to place for any midnight rendezvous that wasn't lover oriented (since it was easy for cops to keep an eye on) but it too was empty right now. I sat on a swing near the tree line and waited, wondering why the press hadn't set up their tents here, on public property.
I wondered how much my neighbors were getting paid to have people camp on their lawns.
I wondered what I was supposed to do now.
The only car that came down the street was Mom's, which was probably for the best. I'd picked my spot to be able to hide quickly, then just zoned out. I rushed down there and got in; the entire back seat was filled with trash bags full of stuff.
“Really, Iron Bunny?”
She shrugged as she pulled off again. “I wasn't sure what you'd want, and I can always put anything back later.”
I had to ask. “Did you have any problems?”
She grinned back at me, taking her eyes off the road in a way I wasn't really comfortable with. “My dear Lucretia, I can fly. There is no trouble newsies can offer me that I can't simply ignore. I had the door open and shut and locked again before any of them had taken two steps, and well, a window works really well to leave a place when you don't want to be seen. Something you know already, eh?”
I felt my face heat up. “I didn't know the alarm codes, and didn't want to set it off! Hey, speaking of which, our house alarms should have been on too; how did you avoid setting them off?”
“Oh, I know the codes.”
What. “But you've never been to our house before. I've literally never seen you in Redding before.”
Not that I usually saw Mom's clients in any capacity; she was a firm believer in leaving work at work.
“Just got them last week… your Mom and I are good friends, and I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. Besides, I owe you, kid. At least some of this is my fault.”
No, it wasn't. But I knew somehow that she wouldn't just accept that; maybe it was that she hadn't earlier. So I needed to try another way, and I was curious anyway.
“Tell me about it. How did Jamie get your sample, anyway?”
She glanced at me and I motioned her eyes back to the road. “Well, about a year ago I was contacted by Marsupial Medical – no, I'm not making that up, that's what they're called... laugh away – they are a company based in Australia of course, and they specialize in taking, collating, and storing samples. They wanted to gather as many samples as they could of mutants with BIT's, both genetic and otherwise, and cross reference them for any similarities; sort of like a mutant genome experiment.
The idea was supposed to be to pin down faulty or dangerous genetic markers among mutants both with BIT's and without among the populace, and eventually work to correct them with new types of gene therapy. Since I have some conditions I'd like to see corrected, I said sure, against my better judgment. I've been down this road before, you see.”
Ibby was understating here, I was sure. She was now focused on the road, but I could see the pain in her profile.
“So, fast forward, and Marsupial Medical (or double M was I call them) is outsourcing the research to enterprising and bright young people to save costs, having researchers running internet think tanks on ways to better profile and use the data. That's where Jamie comes in; she was hired into one with the understanding that she could build a BIT scanning device. At least that's what double M told me when I asked.”
“Okay, stop there.”
She glanced at me again, curiosity dulling the anguish briefly.
“You yourself just said, the limit of your involvement was to hand over samples of your DNA. Something you did to an established company, and probably under contract, right?”
She nodded, looking back at the road in time to avoid a Raccoon, for which I was grateful.
“Then it wasn't your fault. I was in the room when Jamie signed her own contract, stating she wouldn't do anything stupid with the samples she received. I was there for most of those discussions; your name didn't even come up. The company might be responsible for all the internet shenanigans to cut costs, but even they couldn't know that Jamie would… do what she did.”
The only ones responsible for this, were Jamie, Amy Milsner… and me. I could have stopped this all from happening if I hadn't been so stupid.
Her return look was a little too long for my riding comfort, given that she was driving at night and had already avoided one animal.
“You know kid, you're alright."
What could I possibly say to that?
She wasn't done, though. “I think I'll adopt you.”
What.
“What?!? You do realize I have a Mom already, right?”
She grinned. “Yeah, but I'm cooler than she is.”
I gave her my best indignant sniff. “You aren't even close.”
She mock grabbed her chest. “Ack! You wound me!”
She was such a nerd. A nice silence passed and soon enough we turned onto the service road to the cabin.
“So… you know how to drive, it seems. At least, when I was following you, you didn't make any mistakes. You were very methodical, very… cautious, I guess.”
“Well, hitting something with Mom's car would be a disaster. Which is probably why you should watch the road a bit more.”
“Heh. Maybe, though I think Strella would forgive me, at least unless you got hurt. That raises a question, though; why sneak out at all? You're going to catch hell for it.”
I thought about it as she pulled up and killed the engine and lights. I wasn't sure I knew myself, not all of it. How could I explain?
“I just… had to. I needed clothes, at least, needed something of me, and I had to see.”
I had to see my home again, under siege by strangers or not. I had to see her home again, where it happened. I had to see my home town to take it in. Ibby nodded understanding, even though I didn't say the last part out loud; how could I? It sounded dumb enough in my head.
Ibby got out. “When we get in, let me do the talking.”
I followed her. The reason Ibby wanted to talk was easily apparent, even if I didn't hear any movement past the door. Once Ibby input the security code and opened the door, Mom was there, standing in the foyer with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. Which meant she had to have been holding that position or one like it for awhile now.
“So, where have you two been?”
I opened my mouth but Ibby started in, loudly.
“Tia here couldn't sleep, so we went to get her some clothes and other stuff from your house. The circus is still in town, so I went in while she waited for me; had to go out your bedroom window before the alarm reset, so it's not locked, but well, the alarm is set and it's on the second floor, so it should be fine. Not like anyone can break in with an entire army of reporters staking out the house, at least not without drawing some attention.”
Iron Bunny was pretty smart. Nothing she'd said was specifically a lie. I'd set off to get some things, she'd heard and followed me, so it was 'we'. She went into the house, and I did wait, but not in the car as her words seemed to imply, and that last bit I'd bet was pure distraction, to take Mom's mind off me sneaking out.
Mom was smart too, however. “Why did you take my car?”
“It's both safer than my loaner and in better condition. I didn't want to break down with a bunch of stuff on my way back. Plus, the kiddo wanted to drive and I didn't see the harm; good night time practice with no traffic. I drove on the way back.” Ibby was very good.
Mom turned to me. “This true, Tia?”
I still wasn't a fan of that nickname. “Yes, Mom.”
Mom still didn't look happy but moved to let us in. She pinned Ibby with her death stare as she passed, though; Ibby just shrugged it off. I breathed a sigh as I headed to the kitchen. Iron Bunny had covered for me, and now all fallout for my little stunt was on her shoulders. I had been willing to accept the consequences of being caught, but I couldn't say I wasn't relieved.
I did wonder why she'd done it, though.
Mom followed me into the kitchen; I turned on the prominent teakettle and she helped me find the mugs and tea.
“So what did you get?” Mom just seemed like she was curious, but this could be a fishing attempt.
“Just clothes, mainly. This dress is a little drafty.” The underwear could stay; I had no doubt it'd be less annoying than my old boxers.
“Ah. We had some other sets for you here...”
I had to interrupt her. “Yeah, but I wanted my own clothes.” I'm sorry Mom, I just couldn't sit here and listen to the clock tick. Please try to understand.
Ibby Joined us. “Nothing wrong with comfy old clothes to slum around in. You'll probably have to stay here a little while at the very least.”
“Right, and on that note, I'm going to go grab some. The alarm still off?”
“Well, for now, pretty much.” Her answer baffled me.
What the heck did that mean? Ibby waved me off. “It's fine, you won't set it off, go, go!”
I went. I grabbed the first bag I could see a hoodie in and locked the door; I could bring in the rest in the morning. When I shut the door the kettle whistled; seemed a little fast to me.
I hadn't asked before, but if we were staying here, I probably had a room. “So what room should I be putting this stuff in?”
“Third one on the right!” Mom called back. I couldn't help but grin; that was the room next to the one she'd been sleeping in. She wanted me close.
I didn't mind… well, not that much. The cabin had over a dozen bedrooms, something I noted earlier but dismissed. It seemed like a lot of space.
The room I ended up dumping my bag in was decorated in tans and browns, with dark green furniture to match the walls and the forest outside the walls. It was very well done, and not at all bright like Iron Bunny's room had been; it blended in.
A tee shirt, a hoodie, and some sweatpants later, and I did too.
I came down to find my tea on the living room coffee table, the two adults already seated.
“You two don't need to stay up on my account.” Sure I was a bundle of nerves and awake, but they needed more sleep.
Mom answered me, with teeth. “Oh, we aren't. I was just going to have words with Ibby here about her sneaking out with you without telling me. But that can wait, I suppose. How do you feel?
I took stock. It felt better to have clothes surrounding me, and I smelled me on them, faintly. “Okay. Better now.”
Though I was beginning to feel tired again, after only being up around two hours.
Ibby shrugged and turned on the television again. It was still on the same sappy channel. Mom gave her a pointed glance and she turned it to some crime drama while I went exploring a bit. Turned out the cabin had a den, and that den had a library.
“Ibby, do you mind if I read in the den?”
I could see the face she pulled as she looked back, and I was pretty sure it was feigned just to annoy Mom.
“Nah, knock yourself out with all the dusty crappy books. Yell if you see a romance, though!”
******
“So,' my seatmate grinned. “what book did you decide to read?”
I grinned back. “Watership down.”
He snorted quiet laughter. “How very fitting.”
“What can I say? The cover just leapt out at me.”
The jock was now making no pretense of anything other than listening. At least he wasn't using his phone to record us. I lowered my voice just to see him strain; I was kind of bad like that, sometimes.
“The book did help illustrate a problem, one of the worst problems involved with the attack in fact.”
“Oh?”
“I'll get to it later, in due time. First things first.”
He smiled gently and I couldn't help returning it. “Alright, fair enough. What's next then?”
“Powers testing.”
******
I had an appointment, bright and early. No one saw fit to tell me that last night of course, but it seemed the MCO could not wait to test me – literally. And of course Mom was on board with that, because there was still the chance, no matter how slight (so she told me) that something was wrong.
So at nine, bright and early, freshly showered and dressed in my old clothes, I was blinking the sun out of my eyes and trying to stifle a yawn as Mom drove us to my doom.
My doom had plenty of reporters in it, it seemed. I wondered how they knew about my appointment. It was a pretty rush job, after all, made for me almost the minute I woke up; it would have been the same day, but the expert assigned to Redding and its environs was elsewhere.
I don't know, maybe they hacked the MCO computers or something – no matter how stupid that sounded. After the one reporter in the hospital, I wouldn't put it past them. I was forced to dial my clips down, as the reporters started yelling questions even before Mom stopped the car (right outside the front door at the beckoning direction of two police officer who looked familiar).
Ibby got out well before I did, waving jovially to the crowd while managing to shield me from them. “Come on, give us some space here! Plenty of me to go around, no need to crowd. Come on, we can't understand you when you all yell at once!”
For my part, I put my hood up over my head and tried to keep her between me and all the microphones. I was pretty sure I'd say something stupid if I didn't. Mom joined us right as the reporters started to get wise and take turns; now we couldn't pretend we couldn't understand them. Well, we could, but it'd be pretty obvious.
“Lucretia, is the transformation permanent?”
“Lucretia, any truth to the rumors that you are a Casanova?”
“Lucretia, how do you feel?”
“Lucretia, can you tell us what happened on the 19th in your own words?”
And so on. I didn't answer any of them, I just kept walking, almost on top of Ibby. Mom brought up the rear, and she wasn't a large woman, but no one tried to get past her glare. The reporters were remarkably well informed; how had they gotten my new name so quickly?
Also, just what sort of stupid question was 'how do you feel'? I actually stopped a moment when that on registered, and Mom kept me going. The police stopped the reporters at the door. This close the feeling that I'd seen them before was even stronger. They actually locked the doors to keep the reporters out and turned to us with blank faces.
It was when I saw the specialist that I remembered. The two were officers Trask and Stahl, and the specialist was agent Berkowitz. I had indeed met all three, the last time I was here. My ears actually stiffened in rage.
“You!”
“Hello again, miss Del Bosque.” His urbane voice made me twitch; how dare he!
“You have some nerve, coming here for this.” I was proud of how even I sounded, how cool. I wanted to deck him, but there was barely any rage in there at all. Now if I could just get my left ear to stop twitching.
“I wasn't scheduled to be here for this testing; I asked for it.” He walked up to me, an old man in an antiquated suit, looking far older than last time I saw him. He met my eyes the entire time, stopped just out of reach - and bowed deeply.
“I wanted to come here first and foremost to apologize. I was wrong, I made a mistake, and you paid the price. For that, I am deeply and truly sorry. If I can at any time make amends within the law, I will do so to the best of my ability.” He didn't straighten, just held out his card.
I sagged back in surprise, my rage swirling the drain to somewhere, and took the card on reflex. He straightened up as Mom stepped forward.
“Don't think this absolves you, agent Berkowitz. I intend to see this case investigated and all guilty parties punished to the full extent of the law.”
He nodded to her. “I wouldn't have it any other way, Ma'am. An investigation into all my past cases, including this one, is already underway by both the police and the MCO; I will abide by any decisions made by either.”
I had to ask. “And how likely is that to happen?”
He answered with no deflection at all: “Not likely; I followed proper procedure in testing miss Howe. The psychological screening failed to turn up anything, and the current theory is certain... extenuating circumstances muddied the readings.”
I wanted to ask what circumstances, but something told me I really didn't want to know. It no longer mattered anyway.
Ibby had a good question, though, and she asked it as we all moved to the back, past the lone secretary in the office (who happened to be staring at me and Ibby as if we were Martians or something). “Won't you being here be seen as a conflict of interest? You tested Jamie, you're now here to test Tia….”
Berkowitz nodded. “It probably will be, yes. But I felt it best that I be the one to test Tia. May I call you Tia?”
I nodded. Might as well, Mom and Ibby both had outvoted me on nickname choice, (something I felt was a bit unfair considering I'd already been outvoted on my name) and getting used to it was probably for the best. I'd already found out that if I didn't answer to Tia Mom would give me this look that made my heart flip.
Agent Berkowitz continued. “Regardless of current events, I am a senior field agent, Iron Bunny. I won't claim to be good at my job, not anymore, but I will claim to be selfish. I wanted to know if young Tia was alright, and I wanted to be the one to test her. So I called in a favor.”
Ibby just shook her head. It made me wonder what she was thinking; hopefully, I could ask later.
The room agent Berkowitz led us to was a somewhat large gym. Another person was waiting for us, this one in a lab coat.
“Doctor Paige couldn't make it today, so everyone, meet Doctor Henry.”
Doctor Henry was not your classic scatterbrain. He was tall, had skin the color of dark mocha, and short curly black hair His eyes showed he was anything but distracted, focusing on each of us in turn with intensity that I swore I could feel, at least for a moment.
“Good morning, and pleased to meet you all; I'm doctor Jacob Henry. Your reputation precedes you, Iron Bunny.”
He held out his hand to shake, and she took it before asking blandly: “Which one?”
Oh dear God, she did not just say that. Dr. Henry just answered her. “The heroic one, of course.”
Dr. Henry then turned to me so fast I almost jumped, sticking his hand into my personal space, but his smile was large and warm. “Nice to meet you, miss Del Bosque.”
Well, at least he didn't say my reputation preceded me. Then he moved on to Mom.
“Mrs. Del Bosque, your reputation also precedes you. I am a fan.”
Mom looked a bit lost. “A fan of what?”
His answer made both mom and I pause. “A fan of the way you shred the modern self-styled newshound, of course. It's such a joy to watch.”
I wondered what the media had done to him; his hatred seemed a bit more personal than most.
I didn't see much here but the gym, a glass-walled room in the corner with some desks in it, and a machine in the corner, that looked like a large computer scanner placed on its side. It looked old. I looked at agent Berkowitz, and he looked back blandly; unless that machine scanned brains or something, I could see how they missed Jamie's mental thing. Or anyone else's issues, including mine.
Agent Berkowitz correctly read my expression: “Budget cuts. Large cities have better facilities, but we have enough here, or at least enough to determine if more testing is needed.”
I didn't really like the sound of that. At least I was dressed in decent workout clothes; loose and comfortable.
“Alright, how about we get started? I'd like to get you out of here as quickly as possible, Tia. The bathrooms are behind you to the right. We need you to grab one of the bodysuits in the box by the door, change into it, and join us when you're done.
“I'll help!” Ibby was quick to offer, even raising her hand like this was school. Mom just rolled her eyes.
The bathroom was like any public bathroom everywhere, if a bit more clean. Ibby wasted no time looking around curiously while I checked the cardboard box next to the door. It was filled with various sizes of black bodysuit, with some sort of sensor network built into it. There was some dust on the top suits.
“Here, let me help.”
Ibby pawed her way through the box while I looked on, bemused. She finally stopped with one pulled from the bottom that looked way too small for me.
“So, what were you looking for? Seen one bathroom, seen them all.”
She frowned, held the suit up, and threw it back in the box haphazardly. “Cameras. No little sister of mine is going to undress in a random bathroom in an MCO office unless I'm sure there are no cameras.”
She held up a suit that looked even smaller; then she pulled some scissors out of her purse. Why did she have to mention cameras?
She caught me looking around. “Relax, it's just us girls. Or if it isn't, whoever placed the cameras is better at that than I am at spotting 'em.”
Well, that was comforting. Ibby clapped me gently on the back. “Relax, relax. My purse didn't go off, so there's nothing here. You didn't hear an oven timer noise, did you?”
I shook my head; what did that have to do with anything? Ibby grinned. “Good, neither did I. The place is bug free. Get dressed already, I need to make some alterations to the suit.”
“Is that, you know, accepted?” I started undressing, putting my clothes on the sink; I would never trust a bathroom floor.
She nodded. “In cases like ours? Sure. The suits are cheap, mass produced, and if you want you can take them home. But if you don't, they get used once, thrown out, and recycled. It's just easier that way.”
I dressed and she looked at me critically, then widened one ear hole. The whole thing felt tight and while it didn't restrict my movement, I didn't like it. A glance at the mirrors above the sink showed I looked ridiculous.
No one laughed as I stepped outside in the suit, adjusting the stupid cowl; Agent Berkowitz did come forward with a belt for it, though. The belt had wires sticking out of it, to match the wires sticking out of the suit. I put it on, matched them up and plugged them together and was rewarded with a slight hum. Doctor Henry gave me a thumbs up as Agent Berkowitz moved me over to a weight machine. Well, at least it looked like one.
“Just sit down here, lock your feet against the rests here, grab the handles, and pull. The test is done when the machine manages to start pulling back.”
He demonstrated what he meant. Ibby took one look and had concerns.
“There is no way that machine is rated for bricks.”
Agent Berkowitz nodded. “It isn't, but the data can still be used to extrapolate ratings. If they start slow, by the time a brick moves the machine, we usually have a solid reading. We also have a very solid understanding of just what it takes to break the machine – but given that Tia doesn't have any known brick strength after a variety of tests, I'm willing to take the chance before we use the stronger and more expensive options.”
It wasn't long before the machine started pulling me towards it, no matter how hard I tried to hold on. Dr. Henry just hummed to himself and noted the number while I glared at the thing.
“Next, the treadmill.”
I only lasted five minutes on the treadmill, and the numbers were blacked out so I didn't see how fast I was going. Again Dr. Henry just scribbled the number down. I needed to take a breather for several minutes after the running.
And that was how it went; I felt like I was back in Gym. They had me do jumping jacks, and the rope climb, and even dodgeball. And each test was a failure, serving only to show that I was now completely out of shape and would need to start from scratch.
They also tested to see if I was a devisor by trying to make me fix some sort of clock. I was never so glad to fail a test; I don't know how I would have handled being one. I also wasn't psychic (they had me try to guess cards, of all things) couldn't fly (they dropped the floor our from under me, a trapdoor, and I fell a good five feet – thankfully onto mats).
The regeneration test sucked, though; the small cut wasn't too bad, but it hurt more than it should. At least my blood clotted like it was supposed to.
Agent Berkowitz tested my hearing and vision again and added my sense of smell, touch, and taste. All my senses were enhanced a bit, with the weakest being taste. I could still taste some weird things; he tested it by placing small strips containing weird stuff on my tongue. He said most people couldn't taste anything, but I got aspirin and bitter almonds and soap out of the experience. At least I couldn't taste sweat in the air, or roadkill or anything. It was bad enough being able to smell it from farther away.
By the time we all assembled for the verdict, I was worn out. Now I understood what happened to Jamie, all those months ago; at least Ibby didn't mind me leaning on her. I think she barely noticed, and that only because she wrapped an arm around me when I started to list like a sinking ship.
Dr. Henry started off, staring at the clipboard he held as if he didn't know what it said. “Alright. I think we can safely say, with the testing done both here and at the hospital, that we have a good picture of your ratings Tia, and what may be going on with you. First, the good news: As far as it is possible for modern medical science to tell, you are stable, and continue to mutate at a slow rate. That is to say that you appear to be in no danger at all from rejection and complications. This is not exact; problems could still develop down the road, but I feel it's safe to say that currently, you are in no danger. That said, I'd like you to get tested regularly. Not a full powers test, but just a genetic scan; something that can be done with a blood test.”
He took in Both my and Ibby's glares and coughed.
“They will, of course, be destroyed after testing to ensure they won't fall into the wrong hands.”
I could live with that. “Alright, what's the bad news?”
“The bad news is the only power we could confirm is your Body image Template,” which confirms your exemplar status and rating of one. Actually, it's slightly less than a full one at the moment.”
Ibby blanched. Mom muttered something that sounded like it might have been a curse.
“Well, what does that mean?” How was that bad? Wasn't a lower number better? Didn't that mean I was more human than someone who had a higher rating, stupid ears aside?
“It means that you're actually weaker than the average human. And because your exemplar rating is determined by your Body Image Template, your strength, stamina, and reflexes are unlikely to get better.”
What? No… nonono. I'd never get better? I'd be this weak forever?
Ibby blew on one of my ears. “Hey, don't even worry about it. My own mutation started out slow, then snowballed once the regen kicked in. It took about six months for that to happen, and it could be the same for you.”
She was right. I couldn't think like that, couldn't let this beat me. I'd just have to work at it, and get better again. I'd never get better if I just gave up.
“Right, I refuse to let this beat me… I'll just work out again.”
Ibby palmed her face in response, and mom muttered something again.
“Not entirely what I meant kiddo – A body Image template is like a blueprint, and it forces you to match it. So if your BIT has you as a one, then you'll always be weaker, no matter how hard you work, cause your body will just force itself back to the blueprint.”
I could read on the paperwork Dr. Henry had, that an exemplar rating of two was the human norm. Well, that wasn't too far past one, was it?
“Well, I don't care what you meant, Iron Bunny… I refuse the entire idea. I'll just work at it and force my body to get better.” After all, it was mine, screwed up as it was – it had to listen to me.
Agent Berkowitz interrupted Ibby before she could say whatever it was she was going to say next.
“That's a fine attitude to have.”
Ibby shut her mouth with an audible clack as Mom grabbed my other side. Mom was more interested in hugging, however, and I didn't mind.
Agent Berkowitz held out a card, and Mom intercepted it. “If ever you need any help adjusting, or need to talk, about anything at all, please call me at that number. But for now, I'm afraid, I need to go; I have another appointment.”
He started to walk out, but he did say ask about anything, and I had a pretty good question.
“Agent Berkowitz, did you make the same offer to Jamie?”
He stopped and turned, looking me in the eyes again. “Yes, I did, and using much the same language.”
So Jamie had heard the same offer… and either forgotten about it or decided she didn't need the help. I wouldn't make the same mistake, even though I was going to have quite the collection of cards soon. Who used cards anyway, and hadn't he handed one out to us before?
I was tired. More tired than I should be as I sat down at one of the desks on the other side of the glass.
“Alright, just one thing left, and that's the psychological evaluation.” Dr. Henry forced out with a plastic smile. “Just answer the questions as truthfully as you can, there are no right or wrong answers.”
It was a written test. An actual written test to determine if you were crazy. 'If you were a bug, which bug would you be, and why?' was the first question.
What the fuck.
“Did Jamie take this same test?” Dr. Henry tensed at my question, but answered.
“That one or one very like it, administered by Agent Berkowitz. It was felt that he should not be here to administer the psychological portion of the exam for obvious reasons.”
“Is this all of the test?”
“All that you need to concern yourself with, yes.” Was Dr. Henry's expected reply.
Well, it was easy to see how they had no clue about Jamie now. Standardized testing for mental issues probably never worked. Whatever; I answered the questions but didn't really take my time with them; I wanted to go home and sleep. And since I knew I couldn't go home yet, I'd settle for the cabin. I guess the numbers on my endurance were spot on. Well, that or I was still recovering, and that was throwing things off.
The MCO did have this habit of asking (or demanding) for testing on anyone suspected of being a mutant as soon as possible, after all. In that much my case was hardly unusual. Maybe the Redding branch just didn't have the resources available to hire a psych staff, or something. Hardly a cheery thought.
“Alright, I'm done. Do I stay here while you grade it, or something?”
Dr. Henry produced and envelope. “No. I use this, seal it, and all of you verify it as sealed. Then I send it to our resident experts, and they look at it.”
He slid the test in, sealed it with some special tape, and had the adults all initial the tape. The name on the envelope was “Lapin,” and he had me write that instead.
“What's that all about? Lapin?”
Ibby answered me. “All the testing and stuff is actually filed in a different name, a code name. Your MID will have that name on it. It adds a layer of anonymity to your paperwork and identity.”
I wasn't sure how that was supposed to work in my case; it's not like my situation was subtle. “Okay, so why Lapin?” There had to be more suitable names, right?
“Because it's an old name of mine, and I own the rights to it. I don't own Lapine, or Lupin, or Lupine, or any of the other spellings, just that one.' she muttered something about a lucky bi- err person from Ohio who got Lapine that I was glad my Mom didn't hear and continued: “So since I don't use it anymore and haven't for years, well, it was better than you ending up with something else. Trust me, there aren't that many good names anymore and it gets much worse from there.”
I didn't really mind, it just caught me off guard. I wondered what Jamie's MID had said; she never showed it to me. I was actually kind of touched; I could see the old name meant something to Ibby, and she had just officially given it to me.
“That's all we needed. This test is officially over, and thank you for coming. Now, do you need me to escort you out?”
Mom grinned at him, showing entirely too many teeth; I knew what was coming. “You don't often handle the more social aspects of your job, do you?”
Dr. Henry pondered that for a moment, visibly parsing the words. I knew what Mom was really saying: 'You don't get out, or deal with people much, do you?'
He just answered honestly and completely seriously. “No. Sorry, were there any questions or concerns you had for me?”
We all just shook our heads; I couldn't think of anything else, and I'm pretty sure Mom was stamping the word 'incompetent' over his file in her head. Ibby was the real expert here, something that didn't exactly fill me with confidence, and she just seemed bored.
“I don't have any, no.” Dr. Henry probably just wanted out of here, and that was fine; I most certainly did. But wait, there was something….
“Wait, I do have something. All we did was standard physical stuff, why are you so sure I'm fine?”
“The suit you wore is connected to a variety of machines. Between the readings from those machines and the samples I analyzed here, on site, while you were testing, I feel confident in our answers.”
I guess that made sense. The sensors didn't have to just check heart rate or blood pressure, after all.
Alright. “Just one last question. Why are you trying to get me to leave here with this stupid suit on? I mean, I'd be pretty obvious.”
Dr. Henry flushed and stammered while Ibby laughed. Even Mom chuckled a bit.
“It's fine, just give me five minutes to change out of this stupid thing.” I'd never admit it to another soul, but it chafed in places no one wanted to be chafed when it got sweaty.
I managed to make it into the bathroom without wobbling, and got the stupid thing off while Ibby watched. She gathered it up while I put my clothes back on; I wanted a shower, but I didn't want to do it here. Since we were headed right back home anyway, and I doubted I'd be able to stand up for one for too much longer, at least not without a rest.
“You look pretty wiped.”
Yes, thank you, Ibby. “I feel pretty wiped.”
I was pretty sure Ibby didn't have that problem. She probably only needed an hour or so a night or something. She grinned at me.
“It's okay, don't worry about it. You smell fine. Even with the rubber smell mixed in.”
Her senses were better than mine, clearly; I didn't smell anything. But then again, can you even smell yourself unless you roll in a dumpster or something? I didn't think you could.
“Thanks.”
I managed to get dressed without falling over and get out. The suit fit into Ibby's purse, somehow.
We rejoined Mom and Dr. Henry; Ibby was keeping close. I wasn't sure whether to be pissed or happy about that.
“Alright, we might as well get you out the front door. There is a back entrance, but it's nowhere near where you parked your car.”
Mom had a plan. “I actually have an idea about how to get us out of here with a minimum of fuss. Let's all go to the lobby…”
“..And have ourselves a snack!” Ibby finished. I didn't get it.
Back up front, the rabid reporters were still there; I couldn't see them with the blinds drawn, but I could definitely hear them. The police were still standing guard.
Mom walked right up to the receptionist. “Hi, what's your name?”
Startled, she stammered out “Linda.”
I'd seen the grin Mom had before. “Well, Linda, how would you like to make an easy hundred dollars?”
Ibby started grinning too, and I started worrying. “Another decoy play, eh? It should work, they never really learn.”
I get it. I looked at Linda; she was bigger than I was, but hunched over, with a hoody on, and maybe a hair clip or something that could make bulges under it like my ears… Yes, it could work, especially if the police would agree to escort her. So of course, she shot us down.
“I can't get involved with all that! I could lose my job, getting involved like that. I'm sorry.”
Linda said the last two words directly to me, so I felt obliged to answer, but before I could Ibby interrupted.
“No problem, we have a plan B. Officers, could you go secure our car?”
Officer Trask answered with a glance through the blinds. “We can, but the moment we move the sharks out there will go full feeding frenzy. They will know you're all coming out soon.”
Ibby agreed brightly. “Yep! But they can't really stop me from flying, and I can fly faster than they can run, even while carrying people.”
Officer Trask nodded. “Makes sense. Want us to start the car for you? We could, easily.”
Mom threw him the keys. If you couldn't trust a cop, who could you trust?
Officer Stahl unlocked the door and they both rushed out; Ibby grabbed the door and pulled it shut; it was doubtful anyone was going to win a tug of war with her. She waggled her eyebrows when someone, or someones, tried. Mom was busy watching through the blinds; she waved me off when I got close.
“No, I'll watch. Give one of them a glimpse of you and they might storm the doors.”
Ibby grinned again. “That's right, little sis! You're so cute and irresistible, they may mob us!”
I was suddenly sure I'd die from embarrassment before the week was out. How could she even say such things with a straight face? Even the receptionist was rolling her eyes, but Ibby was completely at ease with all the odd looks.
Wait a minute. If Ibby was going to fly us out, why not just fly us out the back door? Chances were there were fewer people to bowl over there, and the press still wouldn't be able to react. I reached over and locked the door, turning to Dr. Henry.
“Can you show us where the back is now?”
Mom caught on immediately. “Of course, now that they've seen us show up here, we can simply head to the back and fly over the building, right?”
Ibby looked down, ears drooping. “I'm an idiot. Why didn't I think of that?”
Dr. Henry waved us on, back down the hall. “Alright, it's this way. Hurry before they catch on.” He muttered something else, something that sounded like loving cloak and dagger stuff as he led us past the elevators and to the left down the hall.
The door was plain, metal, and unmarked, though there was one of those emergency exit lights above it. Dr. Henry opened it to reveal more than a few reporters staked out there, though less than the front. Before I could shrink back Ibby had a hand around my waist, and one around Mom's, and we were in the air.
People yelled, phones and cameras flashed, and questions I did my best to ignore were shouted, and then we were in front of the car, where more phones and cameras flashed and questions I did my best to ignore were shouted. A flash of officer Stahl opening the door and I was gently shoved inside the back. I locked it with my foot and pulled my hood up.
Then we were off, and we probably hit thirty miles per hour before we left the lot. I hoped no one would try to get in Mom's way; they would probably just get mowed down. Ibby was nowhere to be seen.
“Mom where's Ibby?”
“Dealing with the reporters.” Well, that was a statement that would fill anyone with confidence. There would probably be sappy vapid smiles and worse on the six-o-clock news. Maybe I'd have to watch… if I was awake that is; sleep was sounding better and better.
******
“So, wait a moment. When was the interview, then?”
“A few days later. Ibby had actually got together with Mom and arranged a counter-proposal; if the press would leave us alone and stop camping at our house, we would conduct interviews with the reporters of their choice, as soon as they deemed me sufficiently recovered.”
Ibby hadn't even cracked a joke while lining the proposal out on live television, remaining pleasant but serious.
My seatmate nodded; he'd seen that too. “That's actually pretty brilliant. It would have the reporters themselves arguing over who to send, angering each other and wasting their efforts on each other rather than you.”
I couldn't resist the grin and really didn't want to. “Yep. All my Mom's idea, and that's exactly how it went down. She's really good at her job.”
Maybe he could use a PR agent on the west coast, and would look Mom up. It couldn't hurt to plant the idea.
“So, with the deal in place, you were able to go back to your house?” He prompted gently, and I realized I'd been lost in thoughts of getting Mom a commission, and an allowance raise.
“Oh, no, that took a few days for them to get the message and thin out. I think Mom finally had to resort to injunctions, or whatever they're called, to get the die-hards to stop camping at our door. And the calls never did stop, not really; they just slowed down.”
He smiled, showing teeth almost as white as mine. “Alright, then what did you do next?”
I snickered. “Showered and slept, of course. I was still recovering, and all the testing wiped me out. Of course, the real fun on that front was just beginning; for a month, my doctors ran blood tests twice a week, and they wouldn't take no for an answer.”
He laughed along with good humor. “But after that?”
“Well, I guess the next big thing happened the next day – at least, it was big to me.”
******
I was putting my clothes away, going through my bags, reveling in being alone in the house. Mom and Ibby both were gone, Mom on errands relating to my...situation, and Ibby left soon after to see a friend of hers. That was also probably about me, somehow.
Mom was meeting with reporters.
I didn't have to do that yet, and I was just fine delaying it. I had no idea what I even wanted to say. Of course eventually, I'd have to talk to them, if only to get them to leave me alone. So I was unloading the bag and as I moved the final pair of sweats, I found my old math book staring me in the face.
School was long out, and I'd basically failed, even though there was some exception could be made for a traumatic event that Mom told me I could probably apply for that would allow me to pass; even without taking my finals. The book, Algebra 2, even had my old assignment worksheet for class folded neatly inside it, where I remembered placing it just before Amy Milsner had asked me to help her with something in the Gym.
Somehow this book had found its way from my locker, to my house, to here. That wasn't important. What was important was that I liked math and this gave me something to do besides sitting in the house and watch daytime television.
Except of course I couldn't. The equations were pretty simple, something I remembered doing before, but what was that symbol? A sideways cross, or a floating X? What did it mean, exactly? It was on the tip of my tongue, and I just couldn't… remember, at all. Was it some new symbol that had been covered in my absence?
The book was little help, evidently it was not a new symbol, not even close. It was all through the book, and one of those symbols that wasn't explained in it, which meant it had to be common. So why couldn't I remember it?
I finally managed to put two and two together by reading a few paragraphs and comparing them to the written equations. It was the multiplication symbol. I knew what multiplication was; I'd done it forever… so why was the symbol a complete blank? Even now it felt like the symbol and what I'd learned about it was slotted in a new spot in my head, and not something forgotten and now recalled.
I didn't know if I multiplied first to solve for X.
I didn't know what four times four was. That, at least, I could infer by remembering four times three and four times five… but it was clear I HAD known it, and just didn't anymore. I'd had to relearn it, just now.
I rushed back upstairs and found that Ibby had packed my other schoolbooks. Technically they were the schools property, but Mom had probably grabbed them first and thought I'd need them; probably before my coma took as long as it did. It looked like she was more right than she knew.
My history book was easy enough; any details I missed I could just re-read. English rules were confusing, maybe a bit more confusing but then again English was always a little confusing. More worrying was my social studies book was full of new old laws I didn't know.
I also couldn't remember how to say have a nice day in Spanish, or how to say goodbye in Italian.
The door shut and I blinked back tears to see Mom standing there, some bags in her hands. She dropped them and rushed over.
“Honey, what's wrong?”
There was no good way to tell her this. There was no good way to say it, or even think it. “Mom, I'm stupid.”
She hugged me. “Only when you say things like that. Now, seriously, what's wrong?”
I switched to Spanish as I told her; I could imagine her look of slowly dawning horror as I fumbled my way through the language, butchering words. I had to imagine it because Mom was now stronger than I was, and was holding me to her shoulder.
When I was done, she spoke, her voice only broke once. “Well, the doctors did say that there could be some memory loss. I guess we'll just have to work on it. Now come here.”
She pulled me up and led me into the den, and fired up the computer. Some tapping and she sat me down in the overstuffed chair in front of the desk.
“I'm going to go make dinner. Take every test loaded on that website, then come find me with the results.”
As she left I looked the site over. It was one of those IQ testing things, with puzzles and games and other things. “Mom, I don't want to do this!”
I didn't want to know exactly how stupid I was. I mean I wasn't any great shakes before, just average, so what would I be now? But she just pointed at the chair and left without another word.
Twenty minutes later, I had my answer, the words blinking at me in large text that I couldn't miss: “Well above average”.
That rating, according to the website, was one step down from a genius. I couldn't be sure, so I went to another site, and ran it's test - and ended up with the same result. If this was true, then I couldn't be positive, but I might actually be… smarter? I wasn't sure how that worked; wasn't memory and intelligence linked? I went to find Mom; she was smart herself; if she'd just told me I wasn't stupid, I'd have doubted. Taking these tests without her even saying a word was good. I wouldn't say I was completely convinced, but I wasn't freaking out now.
Mom was making a fresh salad, with some tofu burgers. The box promised they tasted like the real thing, with no actual meat or meat sauce content. I doubted that was possible, but I appreciated the effort Mom was going to. I moved up to help, washing radishes for chopping; I knew she wouldn't let me handle the knife, not this week.
“Well, going to keep me in suspense?”
She was going to make me say it. “Well above average, it said. So did the next one I went to, to get a second opinion.”
She grinned smugly. “I knew it. Tomorrow we have another appointment with a doctor; I think having memory issues counts as something new. But memory is simply retaining information. Intelligence is reasoning power and speed, and you clearly haven't taken a hit there.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
The dinner was almost done, so I set the table – and then we waited for Ibby.
And waited.
And waited some more.
The heated portions of the dinner were well on their way to cooling when Ibby finally showed up. She stopped, startled, as she took in what we were doing and Mom shot her a look that promised words later. Her eyes sparkled suspiciously in the light for a moment before she dropped her purse and a bag by the door, and pretty much just appeared in the chair.
“Sorry, sorry. The meeting with my friend ran a little long; we had to discuss certain options.”
Mom looked pretty disapproving. “And you couldn't have called?”
Ibby's ears were drooping, and her eyes were large. “I honestly didn't think of it. I'm new to this sort of thing, Strella. I really am sorry.”
Mom harrumphed. “Just don't do it again.”
Ibby had one ear shielding her face from Mom as she gave me a wink and a nod. I made my hand look like it was cradling a phone to my ear in response. It wasn't cool to make my Mom worry, and I wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily. I wasn't sure we should worry, myself, since the rumor was Ibby was pretty tough, but it wouldn't hurt her to let us know what was going on, especially if she was serious about helping us.
Her grin faded a little as she nodded. She really did look contrite. Did I look like that sometimes?
We ate in silence; the tofu burgers didn't taste too bad; not like real meat or anything, but not too far off. As soon as I was done I leaped up to do dishes; Mom wasn't done yet, and Ibby was on seconds, but if I got the water ready they wouldn't knock me out of the way, I was sure.
Mom came in to dry a few minutes later, and again we finished in silence. A silence that Ibby didn't feel as at peace in as the rest of us. I could tell she was struggling for something to say.
“So, I noticed the den door open. Were you looking for another book Tia?” A weak verbal sally, but a good question and a good guess.
“Sorry, I did leave it open, but it was to use the computer. Mom wanted me to test something.” There was no way I was going to tell her about my earlier freak out; the last thing I wanted was to her hear that I thought I'd gone stupid and draw the wrong conclusions.
“Oh?” Ibby didn't want to let it go.
Well, it wasn't like I could keep it hidden forever. “I lost some memories, and they seem to be skill related. I don't know if it was the coma or… or the attack.”
I couldn't tell if I were missing any childhood memories or anything; Mom had promised to go over what she remembered later so we could compare notes, but I wasn't about to start that now. Knowing my Mom, she would drag out the baby pictures as visual aids.
“Ah, sorry. That sounds pretty rough.” Ibby's look was speculative; when Mom turned away, she pantomimed driving. I shrugged; if I'd lost any skill or knowledge of that, how would I even know? I hadn't even known about the math until confronted with it.
Ibby put the dishes up, clearly thinking. I took the chance to ask Mom the question of the day; I hadn't heard her phone ring since she'd gotten home, but I'd heard her answer it, and answer it often.
“Mom, what's going on with all the phone calls? Did you give the media your number or something?”
She grinned. “No, the office is forwarding the calls. They did get my old cell number, but not the new one. The callers are fact checking, asking if what I said about our willingness to negotiate was true.”
Wow, Mom's office couldn't be happy about that, but she didn't seem all that worried, so I guess I shouldn't be.
“So, what's the good word? Are they leaving?” It wasn't that I hated being here… but it wasn't home.
“They are, but it should take a few days yet. Most of them are arguing with each other about who gets the first interview, as expected. The frontrunner seems to be CNN, though channel five has called me three times so far. The rest are probably going to camp out a bit longer on the off chance we come home and they can pester us into a statement.”
It was still pretty unreal; didn't people have anything better to do?
Seems they didn't.
“Hey, kiddo. You look pretty awful. Why don't you go to bed?” Yes, thank you, Ibby, for reminding me of how tired I get from doing nothing at all now. At least the dishes were done.
I couldn't deny that I was dead on my feet, even though I knew I'd probably be up later. “Alright, so you both in the morning.”
******
I flagged the stewardess down and asked for another diet Pepsi. We waited in silence while she handed me one. I grimaced at her fake smile but she was too busy looking anywhere else to notice. My seatmate spoke up gently as soon as she left.
“So, memory problems?”
I answered with a shrug; it wasn't common knowledge, but it wasn't like the mention of it could hurt me anymore, even if he gave it to the press later. I didn't think he would, not anymore; he didn't seem like the type.
“Yeah, the coma was my brain reforging mental pathways, becoming an exemplar brain, whatever that meant. As a result, some purely skill based memories were lost. Thankfully it didn't seem to do anything to experiential memories, or memories that mixed the two. Something to do with the way memories are stored, I was told.”
My seatmate shrugged and took a sip from his drink, a recently refreshed rum and coke. “That doesn't sound that awful at all; bad yes, but it could have been much worse, right? After all, doesn't an 'exemplar brain' imply perfect memory? Wouldn't that allow you to simply relearn the skill and then never forget it again?”
This guy knew a bunch about mutant classification, it seemed; he really was a geek about this stuff. “Yeah, except my brain isn't quite there yet, if it ever gets there. I have the unique distinction of having an eidetic memory that somehow isn't really eidetic. I can forget what I had for lunch last week, but can't seem to forget four times four anymore.”
Well unless I got zapped again, somehow.
He sighed and leaned back in his seat. “That sounds pretty useful. I could use a memory like that. Self help books can only teach so much.”
I grinned at him, probably a bit more fiercely than I wanted to. “Doubt you'd want to pay the cost for it.”
He held up his hands in surrender, smiling. “You've got me there. I'll stick with the books. So, what happened next?”
I yawned. The sky was getting pretty bright now, and I'd been going for awhile. “Well, I slept, at least for that night. Got up early in the morning and watched some of the media experts give their opinion on my case; none of them seemed to know what they were talking about, and the ER guy CNN had brought in kept calling me a cheater. As far as I know, he never once actually showed up in Redding before the trial, so at the time he knew even less than the reporters. Mom later sued him for defamation; we didn't get it to stick, but it was close.”
My seatmate paused. “The ER guy? Evolution Rocks?”
I nodded as he sipped. “Yeah, Melvin Chambliss. He's a big deal in the organization, apparently. Anyway, that was where I first saw the debate, not that it should have been one. The MCO guy, Jerry Buchanon, calmly refuted him the entire time with facts about the case, and even eyewitness testimony; the kids who saw everything at the time ratted Amy Milsner out. Even if I had been the worst boyfriend ever it shouldn't have made a difference, but the ER guy was only interested in smearing me, for some reason.”
My seatmate hummed, toying with his drink. “Probably to deflect from how bad miss Howe made mutants look with her attack; any sort of bad publicity can set back mutant/human relations, and one like this, so soon after Fullerton? Could set it back years.”
I didn't think Fullerton was exactly a new event, though he had a fair point. But he was also way off about something. “Mutants are humans… just more dangerous ones, sometimes.”
He looked at me a long moment with hard, cold eyes, before laughing, loudly. I shrank back into my seat as people started staring at him. Hopefully, it was just him. “Oh, my dear lady, you are too precious. You're right of course, clearly mutants are humans, just sometimes they have a bit extra going on. It is a brave new world we live in, my dear, too new sometimes for this old man. I apologize.”
He didn't look that old, and I told him so.
“Kind of you to say so,' he replied, 'but hearing you speak like that makes me feel every year. I'll get over it. So, there you are, did you ever get that hike in?”
“The very next day. The cabin is surrounded by forest, and it's all private property.”
“Oh? Whose, may I ask? You implied earlier it didn't belong to Iron Bunny….”
I grinned. “It doesn't. Don't worry, I'm getting to that. Just trying to tackle things chronologically.”
My seatmate sat back again with a shrug. “Alright, but the media never did figure out where you were staying. That's a mystery I'd sort of like solved. Now now, no need to look at me like that! I won't tell them.”
I relaxed my glare and tried to order my thoughts. “I guess, what was next was the first interview.”
******
The press hadn't cleared off my block yet, even two days later, but enough had that Mom declared we could hold off no longer. That suited me just fine, as I wanted to get my side of things out there. Most of the news agencies were still all but calling me a gigolo. The first meeting I had was with a CNN reporter and Anchor named Max Maxwell.
He was a touch over six feet tall, with well maintained brown hair and sparkling blue eyes and chiseled features. He was in shape, and you could see him on every other billboard as the face of CNN news in California. He was also, like his name, almost disgustingly fake, chewing out his make-up people as they ignored him.
Without his make-up he was also more than a little less handsome. It was almost like the difference between an airbrushed photo versus the original.
My own make-up person, Glenda, was applying far more than I ever wanted, but less than he was getting.
“The lights are hot, and you'll need the powder to avoid glistening and sweating.”
I had to ask, even if he was in earshot. I tried to keep it to a whisper. “But what about Mr. Maxwell? He's getting something else.”
Glenda snickered, and it didn't look like she cared if he heard; at least she answered me normally. “That's concealer; Mr. Maxwell eats terrible things, so his skin breaks out. He needs more make-up than you do.” she sighed and muttered, but I heard her clearly:
“We all do. Not fair at all, really.”
A flash of something ugly prompted me to respond. “I'd trade situations in a heartbeat if I could.”
At least she had to good grace to look guilty; she added eyeliner and touch of lip gloss without another word.
We were conducting the interview at a studio in CNN's local affiliate, which was for some reason made to look like a living room, complete with a fireplace in the background; I thought the movie set approach was a pretty bad omen for how things would go but didn't say anything.
Someone else plopped me in an overstuffed easy chair, which wasn't too bad because at least it didn't irritate my tail, and then lit the fire. Mr. Maxwell came in and sat on a folding director's chair. The crew adjusted lights around us. I rated two, apparently, set just off my face so I didn't go blind. Mr. Maxwell rated one, and a teleprompter which was wheeled behind me somewhere. I wouldn't be able to see the questions before he asked them, which sucked. Mom had seen the list and cleared them, but didn't show them to me either; I wasn't sure why.
The lady who lit the fire came back with a microphone and battery pack for it raised in her hands, as if showing them to me. She clipped the microphone to my shirt and slid the battery behind me; I clipped it to my belt, since that's what it was there for, and she threaded the cord out of sight. I wondered what sort of bargain basement operation they were running here; why not wireless?
I was dressed in a nice white dress shirt and new blue jeans; Mom and Ibby both agreed I needed to dress like a simple teen, which was something I agreed with. I might have agreed more if that image hadn't included a bra; the thing was itchy as heck. I didn't even have anything there to need one – I was flat as a board, thankfully – but Mom had just held it out and stared at me while Ibby snickered and muttered something that sounded like 'soon, young padawan' that I was determined to ignore. I must have heard something else there and twisted it, my ears weren't that good, after all.
Finally, we were all set up, and it was time. The cameraman counted us down with his fingers, and Mr. Maxwell transformed from jerk to caring person right before my eyes; it was very unsettling. He still managed to get his name in first, though.
“Max Maxwell here, interviewing a name on everyone's lips, a person in everyone's thoughts; Luke Del Bosque. Luke, how are you?”
I was hoping his first statement wasn't true, is how I was. I tried to smile as the cameras focused on me. “I've been better, Mr. Maxwell.”
His response was immediate. “Please, call me Max. Now, I know this must be difficult for you, but can you answer a few questions for us?”
Well, it was what I was here for. To air all my dirty laundry to anyone who wanted to know. “It's what I'm here for, Max.” I didn't feel right calling this guy by his first name; it felt less genuine to me.
Max surprised me; I wish I could get a look at the teleprompter behind me because someone was clearly coaching him. His tone was gentle enough to soothe even a crazy person. “Can you tell us please, in your own words, what happened?”
I did so, and he let me, the words pouring out in a flood that took almost an hour. He made notes in a small book as I talked, but kept his eyes mostly on me, and waited patiently when I broke down. It wasn't getting shot that did it, it was the look in Jamie's eyes as she shot, and that look that I might have seen in her eyes after, as if her world were ending. I guess it did, in a way.
Mr. Maxwell - Max – waited until I had wound down after the hospital before he spoke. I wasn't worried about ruining any police investigation because I didn't know anything about it. The police hadn't even talked to me since the hospital, even though I suspected they had talked to Mom.
“Alright, Luke, may I ask you some questions?”
“Sure.” Here it comes; Mom and Ibby both had warned me this would happen.
“Alright; there have been some questions raised about the sanity of Jamie Howe. Do you think she's sane and fit to stand trial?”
Well, that question wasn't too terribly bad; I suppressed the image of Jamie's face twisted in rage before she shot me and gave my best answer. “I don't know. That sort of thing is for courts or her doctor to decide.”
He fired right back. This one was tougher to handle. “So you believe she should be prosecuted? That the court system should decide the case?”
I didn't even hesitate, even if I felt like he was laying a trap for me somehow. “I don't know. I've been told that the entire situation is out of my hands, and Jamie will be prosecuted. Those decisions aren't up to me.” I barely stumbled over her name.
He was sharp, or his people were. His next question proved it. “Would you prosecute her if the decision were up to you?”
“I don't know.” I couldn't afford to think about these; I knew I couldn't, but where did he get off asking a question like that? It's only purpose would be to trip me up.
“There have been rumors, even testimony given to the police, that you cheated on Jamie Howe and her assault on you was in response to that. Any truth to that?”
What. Even with Mom's preparation, I gaped at him a moment before the anger gave me back my voice. “No.”
“Not even a kiss with another girl? Nothing at all?”
“I have not kissed anyone other than Jamie or my mother in my life.” It was true, it didn't count if a manipulative witch kissed you. Well, maybe it did to this guy. At least I knew what his angle was now.
“My sources tell me you won't be testifying at the trial; is that true?”
Now what was he after? “I've been told it isn't necessary, and I won't be.”
“You're not foregoing testifying out of a sense of guilt, or to avoid lying under oath?”
What the fuck. No, seriously, what the fuck!?! I stood up and stated clearly into the microphone.“No, I'm not. I signed a sworn statement in front of witnesses. And we're done here.”
Then I took it off and threw it at Mr. Maxwell. To his credit, he caught it with only a slight fumble.
I met Mom coming the other way and tried to grab her; she was going to get into a yelling match while the cameras filmed her, I was sure. Ibby grabbed me instead, just as I broke. Again.
Ibby hugged me to her side, hiding my meltdown. “You did good kid. You did really good.”
It made me wonder what interview she'd been watching. “How?”
She started leading me away from where my Mom was making short work of Mr. Maxwell, verbally. She sounded mad enough to graduate to physical stuff as she chewed him, his cameramen, his other people, and his network out.
“You didn't punch him out? Honestly, you came across as a real natural. It'll be hard for them to edit or twist anything out of this.”
If I had punched him, I would probably have broken my hand. “You think they'll try?”
Ibby smirked as she handed me a tissue. “Yeah, they might. Not sure what agenda that would serve, but it's clear they've got something in mind. It doesn't matter, this one is over and you handled it like a pro – or an honest person.”
She hugged me while I blew my nose. Mom seemed done yelling, storming back with a sharp clack of heels as if she would simply run over all who got in her way. She let up as she got close, though.
“Mom, can we go?”
“Sure we can, sweetie. Let's go get some ice cream.”
It was the beginning of summer; I wouldn't say no. Provided I could still eat the stuff that was.
I turned the gain on my ear clips down to zero; there was still a gauntlet of reporters outside, and they had gotten wise to Ibby just flying me to our cars, so were camping out everywhere we could end up. I wasn't in the mood to deal with them anymore, so with my hoodie up and any sound almost completely dampened I wouldn't have to. I couldn't answer any questions I couldn't hear, after all.
Ibby watched me do it and gave a thumbs up. She would thread through the crowd, and I would be right behind her. Between the security guys that the network had and Mom, no one would stop us. I just kept my eyes on our feet when Ibby opened the doors, ignoring the flashes and bright lights and ignoring the muted sounds and conversations I could no longer entirely hear. Ibby kept one hand over mine, gently pulling me along while the other arm made way for us, probably a bit less gently.
We made it to the car with a minimum of fuss (well, for the new normal anyway) and were on our way. I didn't recognize the route, so it wasn't back to the cabin. I turned my ear clips back up in case Ibby or Mom said something, but they were silent.
It turned out it was to the Cold Rock Creamery, my favorite ice cream parlor. I recognized the person working there, distantly; even her name tag stating she was “Debbie” didn't ring more than a faint bell. she gushed as soon as she saw me.
“Oh my g-gosh! It's Luke! How are you, Luke! Are you okay?”
Mom struck first. “She's a bit tired of questions today, Debbie. I'd like a Caramel White-out please.”
Hmm, a white-out was the Creamery's way of saying blizzard without getting sued by Dairy Queen, and one of those sounded pretty good. When Debbie turned to me with a wince, clearly not even up to asking me what I wanted (Mom often left that sort of impression when angry) I was ready.
“Reeses cup white-out, please.”
She rang it up, then turned to Ibby, and it was interesting watching her face change to equal parts hero worship and envy; Ibby seemed to leave impressions of her own. “A blue slushie, please.”
That seemed suspicious; I turned to her. “Anything I need to know?”
It took her a second to catch on. “Huh? Oh, no, you're good. I just wanted a slushie.”
I could approve; blue slushies weren't bad. They weren't anything to the glory that was purple (blackberry as opposed to blueberry) but they were okay. They had nothing on the glory of a white-out, but little did.
Ibby paid and we all went back to the car; there was a small lot full of picnic tables in front of the Creamery, but Mom hated sitting there; so we all sat on the hood of the car instead. Debbie gaped at us a bit but soon got busy again. None of the other patrons got close to us, but more than a few stared and I thought I heard some camera phone clicks, here and there.
At least they weren't asking us to pose or something.
Ibby broke the comfortable silence. “So, the interview is supposed to air tonight by five. We have a few hours to kill. Anything either of you want to do?”
There was something I wanted to do if Mom would go for it. “Could we go to the park? Lassen peak?”
It was beautiful, and even if it would be crowded there was a trail most tourists never found that would be clear even if there were tourists this early. Most people didn't travel to Latour state forest until a month from now or so because most people drove. Now was the perfect time to go.
Mom finished up and threw her white-out in the trash. “Sure, we can do that. It's a nice day.”
Ibby shrugged. “Sounds good to me, I haven't been there in awhile.”
I had to ask. “How long was awhile?”
Ibby shrugged again as I threw my own now empty cup away, still slurping her slushie. She paused to answer. “About three or four years now, I guess.”
Of course, it was not to be. No sooner had we all piled into the car then a small (As if only four vans and two cars could be considered small!) convoy of news vehicles caught up to us. Just like that I no longer felt like going; it would just lead to a farce as the reporters followed us and ruined the day by shouting questions at us. The road to the Peak was just too open, too well known, and we wouldn't be able to lose a tail.
We all hopped in the car and rolled up the windows. “Never mind, I guess we can go another day. Mom can you lose these guys?”
She didn't bother asking me if I was sure; she knew how this would go if we tried to go for a nice hike now. “Of course we can.”
She drove us to the local police station and into the parking lot, parking between two cop cars. The reporters drove by and left us alone; all of them. Then she reversed with a screech and drove us out the way we came and took the first right, back towards Redding proper and well away from anywhere we'd normally go.
Ibby approved. “Strella, you've got some talent at this.”
Mom replied with a wry grin and a dry look. “I've had to learn a few tricks, dealing with certain people. So where to now?”
I didn't want to risk it. “Back to the cabin, I guess. It seems safe enough there.”
Ibby and Mom shared a look that I couldn't read but didn't say anything.
“Alright.”
The reporters didn't catch up with us, nor did anyone else find us; we pulled into the cabin safely. Having nothing better to do, I went back to rereading my school books, which was slow going. Soon enough news time rolled around and we all gathered on the comfy couch to see how I looked on camera. Well, when I wasn't hiding, that was.
Turns out I looked pretty good on camera, and it was weird seeing myself there; almost like it was a different person, someone like me but not me. And of course, that person looked worse by nature of the editing that had been done to the footage.
It was seamless; if I hadn't been there, hadn't lived it, I wouldn't have been able to see the difference. A little bit cut there, a little bit added there, and while nothing I had said was outright removed wholesale, it had been twisted. CNN had made it look like I had been hiding something… like cheating. They couldn't do much with the final scene, but with the parts leading up to it altered, it looked more like I had just thrown a fit, like a child.
Mom was sputtering in anger. “Those… how dare they! That will be the last time!”
Ibby just gathered us both up and hugged us. She looked more than a little pissed herself, but sad and bitter more than anything.
******
My seatmate frowned and raised a hand to stop me. “So, that interview was indeed edited? I thought it might have been, but it was hard to say for sure….”
I nodded. “It was, whoever did the job was worth whatever they were paying them; they managed to make it look genuine, but every time the camera panned to Mr. Maxwell, to show him asking a question? That was an edit. They didn't change much, but it was enough to change most of the tone of things. I don't trust any taped interview anymore, that's for sure.”
I wouldn't even call that princess Jobe character evil, devisor or not, based on an interview. Of course her actions clearly painted her in the evil category all on their own; she made people orcs for crossing her. It seemed to be a kind of bad habit for devisors… and of course I was going to a place where they gathered to learn how; go me.
“So, what happened next?” My seatmate asked while taking another sip of his drink. He had the bladder of a champion.
“Well, next came the interview with Fox news. We had already scheduled it and Mom didn't want to cancel since there was an agreement in place. If we didn't keep our end of the deal, then the press wouldn't either. I expected another interview like the first, but they really surprised me. They put me on live, didn't try to cut anything off even for soundbites later, and were very nice on air. Mom didn't have anything to call them out on.”
Something suddenly occurred to me. “Say, what's your name, anyway? I mean you've probably told me, but…”
I was sure I'd asked him before, but I didn't remember it. His laugh told me he wasn't offended. “No, I don't think we properly introduced ourselves. Paul Stanley. I know who you are, so no need to say.”
He gave me a meaningful look around, including at the frat boy, who flushed but didn't say anything, and held out a hand. We shook.
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, I have the Fox news interview here, on my phone, so no need to cover that one.” A few clicks brought it up and Paul showed me the screen.
I thought for a moment. “Alright, then you probably don't want to hear about the rest of them either, because most of them followed that narrative, television and print news both. Even the one internet interview I did was pretty tame, at least by internet standards.”
I shuddered because there had been a fair amount of internet trolls banned that day; the mods of that site had worked overtime, but I had still seen a few things I wished I hadn't. Paul winced in sympathy.
“Well, I guess chronologically there was my big screwup next. It made some news at the time.”
I really didn't want to talk about it, but Paul just waited patiently. I guess since it had already been reported on it shouldn't really bother me, it was just another part of my life out there for anyone to know about.
“Alright, I'll spill. So the deal was struck, and I was living up to my end of it, and the media decided to live up to theirs, which meant they had stopped camping out. Well, there were still a few, but it wasn't a small mob or anything, and those that stuck around were easy to dodge and ignore….”
******
I put the last of my books back, and with that I was done unpacking again, and finally home, where things smelled familiar and everything was where I didn't have to go looking for it. Mom was downstairs restocking the fridge with more recent groceries from the sounds of things, and I was left staring at my computer.
With a shrug, I woke it up from its extended sleep and boggled as my email window came up. That email account was well and truly screwed; there were thousands of messages in it; how had all of those people gotten the account name? Only a few of them were my friends or names I recognized.
It would probably be best if I just started over with a new one, and called my friends to tell them what it was; there were emails in here from CNN, and many from people with questionable names bearing questionable titles. I didn't really have anything for xtends the fast acting package pump to work on anymore, after all.
Lapin wasn't open, not that I really wanted it. I should probably get a name far different than my own or old one. I went with good old Hiker 13187, which was more than anonymous enough not to raise questions.
Which was what made it weird when an email pinged not a minute later, as I was firing up a game. Even weirder, the email was empty; the name, subject, and body of it all blank. I'd just started shooting digital people when it chimed again. This time, however, the name and title weren't empty. It was from Howeareyou, and the subject read: “Luke, is that you?”
It was Jamie. It had to be, it was her email address.
How had she written an email? She was supposed to be in jail. How did she find my new email address? I'd just made it. Had she tagged my computer somehow, or something, when I wasn't looking? Was she emailing me from jail somehow? Did they even allow computer and email access in prisons? The message body just repeated the subject.
Well either that or someone had hijacked her account as well as bugging my computer or whatever. Game forgotten, I wrote back:
-Who are you, and how did you get this email? -
The response was immediate.
-Jamie, and I installed a program on your computer months ago that lets me know what you're up to. I need to see you, can you please come over?-
That was...creepy. I hadn't even noticed her doing that; it had to have been months ago. Why did she want to see me? Did she want to help, or finish the job?
It really didn't matter. I wanted to see her too. Why I didn't know, but I couldn't just turn my back on her. I didn't know whether it was to hurt her or hug her, but I needed to see her.
-I can, but not right now. Midnight, behind your house.-
After composing and firing off the response I set my alarm and put it on my desk; I'd be shot for focusing on anything else, and I got tired frequently now. I wanted to be well rested for this, but just going to bed would look suspicious for anyone checking up on me. I arranged myself a bit in the chair with the game on and the volume low in order to make it look like I'd just gotten tired and fell asleep, propped my feet up a little, and then made the illusion a reality.
I woke to my alarm blaring, safely tucked in bed. So that meant someone at least, had checked while I was out. I was more than a little shocked that I hadn't woke up when being carried and literally tucked into bed (which pointed to Ibby being the one to check, to me) and even more shocked to realize I'd slept on my tail, which had been folded up and against my back at some point, and still hadn't woken up. That sort of thing was painful. I must have been more tired than I thought.
But I was up now, and felt fine, and it was eleven-thirty, so it was time to go. I straightened my clothes out, threw a hoodie on over them, and used my ears. The house was quiet except for settling noises, and perhaps a mouse scratching around in the walls. I'd have to tell Mom about that tomorrow. The front door was clear; this time was different than the last; Mom trusted me, and the reporters were gone, and I didn't have to borrow a car to go anywhere. If I wanted to take a midnight walk somewhere, I could, so I didn't bother trying to sneak, just kept quiet.
The front seemed to be completely empty of reporters. I waited, watching for a good five minutes to be sure, and nothing. Opening the door and looking out, I waited; I could always slam it in a reporter's face, after all. It probably wouldn't even be the first time for them. But still, nothing; not a creature was stirring outside. Slipping on my running shoes (which were very quiet when you didn't run in them) I grabbed my keys, locked the door, and took off at a fast walk; I didn't want to wake up any dogs if I could help it.
I stuck to the sidewalk and blended in as best I could; the streets were empty of course, we had no nightlife to speak of here. Normally there were at least a few people out anyway, especially in summertime, but I didn't see and hear anyone. It was almost as if the town was holding its breath, tense, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Or maybe I had read too many horror novels as a kid.
The Howe's backyard was well lit and empty. There were no tricks that I could see, and no Jamie, but then I was a little early. I circled around and waited at the edge of the woods. I didn't have to wait long; a few moments later Jamie came out, alone.
Her eyes were red and puffy, there were tear tracks down her face, and was dressed worse than I was, in a formless baggy jumpsuit, the left leg of which had gathered around the ankle bracelet she wore. She looked around desperately, clenching and unclenching her empty hands.
She looked as absolutely gorgeous as ever.
My mind made up, I broke from the tree line at a jog. She locked onto me and I could see the hope there. Her voice whispering my name hoarsely was the sweetest thing I'd ever heard.
And then it all went wrong. As I stepped into the light my hood flew back, exposing my face, and the response was immediate. Jamie's face twisted into a look I'd never seen before, something that completely transformed her face as she hissed out one word like a curse:
“You!”
I skidded to a halt, wary. “Jamie? What's wrong? You wanted to see me?”
I guess she didn't want to apologize after all.
“Not you, you usurping bitch! Luke! What are you even doing with his computer, or in his house! In his clothes! Where is he, and what did you do to him!?!”
I went cold when her grin turned vicious. “No, never mind, wait right there. I'll be right back.”
She turned and ran, actually ran to her garage door. I bolted at my best speed back into the treeline. I didn't stop until I couldn't move anymore and collapsed, panting for breath. I was still well short of home, stopped a bit over halfway of a distance I could have easily covered before, and for all I knew Jamie could be right behind me. I focused on my ears but heard nothing.
Jamie was insane. My Jamie was gone, and the new one viewed me as the enemy. For being myself, for being what she made me, I was her enemy.
As soon as I could, I levered myself up to my feet on my hands and walked home, carefully. I wasn't followed, but I didn't relax until I had my front door shut and the alarm turned on. I turned around and ran right into Ibby.
“You alright kid?”
She wasn't Mom but she'd do.
“Ibby, Jamie is out! I just saw her, I was walking and down the street and she was there and….”
She returned my hug with a hand as she tried to decipher what I was saying. Part of me was annoyed by how stupid, how unclear I sounded, but I couldn't stop myself. At least I wasn't blurting out that I was stupid enough to go to her house. I didn't like to lie, but admitting I was that stupid and getting grounded for a year wasn't a life goal, no matter how attractive hiding under my bed for a year sounded right now.
“Wait, what do you mean, Jamie is out?” Ibby's hand moved and I heard her phone chirping.
“She's out! She was at her house, and she saw me and said… things. Then she ran to her garage and I ran.” I couldn't repeat what Jamie had said to me; I just couldn't.
Ibby's yell shocked me. “Strella! Get down here!” Wasn't my Mom asleep?
Turns out she was. A minute later she stumbled down the stairs, glaring with sleep filled eyes and muttering – until she saw me. She was by my side, hugging me close, and I switched to her. Hugs were good.
I was still listening for oncoming footsteps, though; if Jamie was coming, I didn't want my Mom caught in the cross-fire.
Ibby got right to the point. “We need to file a restraining order, now. Jamie Howe was released on bond this evening. Most news networks have it up; we must have really left an impression since the press isn't knocking down your door to ask about it.”
“What?!? The police didn't even warn us! What the hell!” Mom took a step, towards the door. I didn't want her to go out there, so I held her tighter and dug in.
Ibby threw her phone to the couch and put her now empty hand on Mom's shoulder. “No, Strella. You need to go to the police. Get a restraining order, now. Not the Howe home. We need a way to get her thrown back in jail if she tries anything else, first.”
Mom sighed and scrubbed at her eyes. “Fine, on it. I'll get dressed.”
No, she couldn't go out there! My voice was gone, so I just held her tighter as she tried to take a step, back this time.
“Luke, please, let go.”
Fear. “I don't want her to get you too.”
Mom was able to peel me off with ease while Ibby held on, her ears sweeping back and forth like old radar dishes. Did mine do that when I was listening? “It's clear, there's no one out there. Well, if they are, they are too far to do much or not moving at all. I'd say you're clear to go Strella.”
She turned to me and wiggled her ears up and down with a grin. “Don't worry so much, Tia. Trust the ears.”
I knew what she was doing, but despite myself, I snorted a laugh. It just made her look so ridiculous. Mom went upstairs to get dressed while I was distracted, and Ibby led me to the couch, picking up her phone on the way. I wondered why she was here; she hadn't been earlier. Surely she had her own life she should be getting back to?
Whatever, I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Jamie ever met Ibby, well, Ibby would win, ray guns or not. Ibby had survived actual supervillains, even some of the worst around. She'd even had T-shirts printed: “I survived the Savage Six, and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.” She'd had a whole closet full of them at the cabin, one for each villain or villain group.
When Mom came back down to leave I got up and escorted her to the car, just to be safe. Ibby followed, it looked like she was escorting me, though. The car was empty, there was no one hiding in the back seat.
Once Mom was safely off I hurried back inside and locked up. It took me two tries to set the alarm; my hands were betraying me. Ibby just watched, and then reached out and gently steered me back into the living room. I ended up almost sitting on her phone.
She turned on the news and there it was, for all the world to see: “Millville mutant out on bail.” There was even one of those tickers at the bottom. I focused on that, and not on Mr. Maxwell droning on in that smug way of his. The ticker said she had been out less than an hour. If that was true, how did she email me, hours earlier? The hearing would have been going on, would she have had internet access during it, maybe during a break or something?
It didn't really matter now; it was done. What had the cops been thinking? She was dangerous… she wasn't well. Under the layer of fear my heart ached.
Ibby shut the television off. “Come on, kiddo. Let's do something useful.”
She escorted me into the kitchen while the cars and vans began pulling up outside. We ignored them and Ibby taught me how to make muffins. Never mind that I already knew and she was bad at it.
******
Paul shook his head. “Did you ever see her again?”
I suppressed the shudders. “Just once; at the end of the trial, when she was sentenced. She got Juvenile hall until she was eighteen and then some sort of reassessment thing, which means she can end up with probation or a few more years in jail. The DA failed to prove the assault was with a deadly weapon, and it was her first offense.”
I had wanted to testify at sentencing, to make the judge understand how sick she was. But the state psychologist, while admitting she was (crazy) sick, had cleared her to stand trial. He said she knew right from wrong, and apparently that was enough. Mom had overruled me, so instead of Restpadd psychiatric Jamie got Shasta county Juvenile hall.
She had seen me on the way out of the courtroom, and thrown what could only be called a screaming fit while cameras rolled and bulbs flashed. I was sure Paul had that on his phone too.
Paul didn't mention that, though, instead switching gears. “So, with all that the media was back?”
I nodded. “The trial was expedited after Jamie made bail – it was set at a hundred thousand dollars – and she was forced to wear an ankle bracelet. If she turned it off or tampered with it she went back to jail, and was basically under house arrest. The ACLU and ER people threw a fit over that, but it was set as a condition of bail by the judge, so there wasn't much they could do but protest.”
The view of protestors outside Jamie's house and around the local stores and gas stations with “Free Jamie Howe” signs had been unnerving, to say the least. They hadn't set up in front of our house at least… the reporters coming back had kept them away. Even when the real facts of the case were revealed more than a few of them kept on going. And of course the MCO and H1 people had counter-protested, leading to a big mess, but they hadn't given us any trouble.
Agent Berkowitz and I even became friends; he invited me to his birthday party and everything. I'd seen him at every test, and we exchanged email and phone calls all the time.
Paul wanted to speak of different emails. “So, did you get the virus or whatever it was off your computer?”
“Yeah, but that led to the next thing I should probably tell you….”
It was highly embarrassing, but I had promised to be thorough if he didn't rat me out. I thought he had what he wanted now, but I probably shouldn't risk it.
******
Saturday. Just another meaningless day, watching the reporters outside the house and the protestors down the street. Summer was well under way, but I was stuck here at home, with only tests to determine where my memory issues were and my language practice to keep me company. My alarm said nine; I had slept in and missed my morning run, but it didn't matter.
I had been getting better at talking to the media, mainly because they had been getting better at asking questions that weren't stupid or insulting. Things like 'Tia, how are you today?' or 'Tia, what do you think of Rex Davies's testimony?' (the latter of which I couldn't really answer) were now replacing 'Tia, are you going to be a cheerleader next year?' and 'Tia, what are your measurements?'
Thanks to the efforts of my Mom and Ibby, my new nickname was catching on. I couldn't be Luke anymore.
Any serious question I answered to the best of my ability, usually politely. The key was to answer a few questions as politely as I could and simply go on about my day; the reporters usually took the hint and let me go about my day with a smile. The ER crowd was far worse; they didn't seem to want to believe anything other than Jamie was a saint, no matter the evidence to the contrary.
I wanted a slushie from the corner store, something to cut the heat of the day that was even now rising, early or not. But the ER rocks crowd was that way, and my appearance would likely start a riot. At the very least, there would be eggs thrown or similar, and I wasn't really in the mood for that.
“Tia! Time to get up!” Ibby had been spending a lot of time with us, guarding us, and while I didn't mind it was a little weird. Yesterday she had walked around half the day in her underwear, in our house. When mom called her on it, she apologized, but her excuses were… off. Ibby had claimed it was simply too hot, and she had been told to make herself at home by Mom, and that was what she did at home when it was too hot, so she thought it'd be fine.
Mom had accepted it, then given me a weird look. Hey, she was a good looking woman, and while I'd noticed, I hadn't been about to say anything. I was assaulted, not killed. Then I spent the rest of the day happy I didn't bat for the other team; that would have been all kinds of awkward.
My doctor had told me behind a closed door that my hormones would settle and the levels rise, and that I shouldn't try to fight it. My response was to quote John Paul Jones at her. She had laughed, then told me exactly what to expect as my hormone levels rose, cementing my opinion of her as a very evil woman.
Thanks to her, when I looked, I could almost see my hips widening and chest balloon by the second. She already had me scratching as if I had a skin disease, just from the nervous reaction.
Back to Ibby, because it was impossible to get lost in thought when she just barged into your room. “Tia, time to get up already!”
She stopped, taking the scene in no doubt.
I agreed with her on the heat, and while I tended to wear more clothes that she did while she slept (the better to be decent to wander around the middle of the night in) my old pajamas didn't really fit anymore. Baggy before, I could swim in them now, so I was just wearing the shirt, which covered everything. Well, that and underwear of course; I'd tried boxers the first night back but I'd kicked them off somehow in the night. The panties stayed put. So I was sprawled out on the bed, stretching, with my shirt riding up when she came in.
I covered up with a yelp. “You're supposed to knock!”
Ibby straightened up, actually sounding contrite. “Sorry, sorry. But we have someplace to go today, and you need to get dressed and eat breakfast.”
Well, that was curious. Ibby didn't take me places by herself, and I knew for a fact Mom had plans today. “Where?”
Ibby shrugged with a smirk as she closed the door. “Just back to the cabin, going to have you meet a few of my friends. Strella said it was okay, in case you're worried. You can call her and ask.”
It occurred to me the clips weren't in my ears, and Ibby had carefully pitched her voice so it wouldn't be loud to me. Maybe if I asked, she'd teach me how to do that. “No, it's fine, I trust you.”
I'd barely gotten some pants on when the door opened again and Ibby burst through, startling me with a hug.
What? “What? What's wrong? What did I do?”
She was leaking tears, but she gave me a smile. “Nothing, I just couldn't resist! You're so huggable!”
I felt like I should scream I needed an adult… but then I remembered what I just said. I was even more surprised to realize that I meant it. Ibby had gone from a source of wary caution to a familiar presence, mutant or not.
“Alright, get out and let me dress already.” I couldn't shake her off and I knew it, so I had to wait patiently while she sniffled loudly, got up, then went out again, closing the door behind her.
And she had still been quiet enough not to hurt my ears, even while shouting. Well, kind of shouting. Shouting for us? I didn't know, I didn't really know the words for it. At any rate, the clips went on before I changed shirts.
Breakfast was waffles. Actual homemade waffles with strawberries or blueberries baked in, from our very own waffle maker. Wait, were those blackberry waffles? Mom made them then, and they would be delicious. I shoveled all of those I could find (which turned out to be four) and buttered them up. You just don't put syrup on waffles with fruit mixed in.
Ibby had apparently already eaten because she just drank some coffee and watched me inhale mine. It was sort of odd since there were a good ten waffles left and two dirty plates. That seemed like a lot of food to make, and Mom wasn't that big on cooking, or wasted effort. She preferred things be made fresh, just before they were eaten, and not stored.
Even though Ibby tried to hurry me up, after finishing I downed my orange juice and packed the other waffles in the fridge. Even if they were waffles of an inferior fruit mix, they were still food, and Mom hated wasting food – which might be why she never made any to store, come to think of it.
It was a bit after nine-thirty before we stepped out into the sun, and Ibby walked over to her car. I stopped, taking it in. Instead of the black and nondescript late model SUV, I expected, her car was a Mustang convertible. A bright pink Mustang convertible.
Well, I could see why she borrowed the SUV now.
I got in and hunched as far into myself as I could; the reporters were being respectful about distance and questions now, but that didn't stop the cameras from flashing and rolling. Ibby just waved at them with a sunny smile, immune to the embarrassment of her car.
It was a nice car otherwise, a classic perfectly maintained. I wasn't a car buff, but I could see that with ease. It was clean, really clean, and started right up. The members of the press got well away from the driveway, and Ibby backed out, still smiling: “See you later, my adoring public! Got somewhere to be!”
I looked back to make sure they weren't following; they weren't. When I turned my eyes front again I saw Ibby waving at someone.
It turned out to be two someones; Marcus and Rex.
I'd tried to see Marcus and a few of my other friends. My old friend Clayton hadn't even responded to my emails from yet another throwaway address, made this time after I wiped my computer clean. Marcus and I had spoke, but he said he couldn't even get to the door of my house, the reporters were too thick, and he didn't want to be on the news. Seeing Rex was a bit of a shock; I hadn't even known Marcus and Rex were friends.
The wonder twins had blocked me. I had seen them on the news, they weren't shy about stating they believed Jamie's version of events and believed me to be the worst kind of cheating trash. I couldn't even use the words they said in impolite company, let alone polite.
My other friends had yet to respond; I was getting a real glimpse of how Jamie had been treated by our peers earlier, and I wasn't immune to the irony. Even if the circumstances were different when admitted to by the experts; for one, some reporter, an Amanda or Amelia something-or-other had cornered Dr. Henry and asked him point blank if I was a mutant. Dr. Henry had replied that his testing revealed I was a 'powered individual' with better than human norm hearing and was baseline in every other area. I can only assume money changed hands because those test results were supposed to be private.
He then likened my situation to a hypothetical of advanced gene therapy to correct genetic defects, something that there have been breakthroughs on lately using nanite surgery, and were certainly nothing to be concerned about other than the obvious moral and legal ramifications.
The upshot of being thrown under the bus like that had been that my neighbors had mostly stopped treating me as if I were going to explode and pull another Fullerton.
Marcus saw Ibby, saw the car, and then our eyes met, hunched down or not. His jaw dropped and he pointed right at me, but we were past before Rex had taken his eyes off Ibby, if he ever had. Sometimes I loved Ibby, if only because next to her I looked like nothing special.
Speaking of Ibby: “Friends of yours?” She asked, in a normal tone of voice, which even with the top down and wind howling carried to me easily. She'd noticed where Marcus had been pointing, then.
I had to think about it for a minute. “Yes, I think so.” Marcus probably was, at any rate; very little phased him.
Ibby patted my hand. “Don't worry, they'll come around.”
“Probably; from what I understand, Marcus at least was simply chased off by the media. And not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but could you keep both hands on the wheel?” She was already looking more at me than the road and driving a good ten miles per hour over the limit.
Ibby grinned but dutifully turned back to the road. Her hand went to the gear shift and not the wheel, but at least it was closer to it. “Marcus, huh? That the fat kid?”
PC, Ibby wasn't. “Yeah, Marcus was the overweight one. He and I have been emailing each other.” He hadn't even asked for pics, the way some others of my class had. Probably because there were more than enough pictures of me running around already, and more every day. The way politicians were still talking about my case, it wasn't dying down. On the contrary, interest seemed to be ramping up. My name had reached a record number of searches on the net yesterday.
Ibby turned on the radio, singing along to some golden oldie I didn't recognize, and the now familiar trip to the cabin passed without conversation, if not silence. We pulled into the cabin's drive, and had to park in the little dirt lot; there were about twenty cars, more than a few of them pink mustangs or other sports cars. The exact same pink of Ibby's car. The ones left were nice understated sedans… except for the stretch limo. Who would bring a stretch limo out to California back roads?
Ibby headed for the backyard and I kept pace, following the smell of barbecue. A few steps and I could hear the meat sizzle. So, owns a stretch limo, and barbecues at ten in the morning.
I rounded the corner of the cabin a step behind Ibby and stopped.
The yard was full of hot women.
Some were setting up picnic tables. Some were setting up citronella candles. Some were lighting those same candles. Some were running to and fro with plastic plates, knives, and forks, a variety of liquids I was too young to drink, and other things. They were all dressed in normal clothes, shorts, and tees for the most part, and nothing skimpy. But I knew who they were, whether they were wearing their plastic ears or not.
And there, the man of the hour, standing at the grill with a lush young blonde helping him, was Hugh himself, in his customary robe, striped pajamas, and slippers.
I was in the midst of a Playboy convention.
“Come on, Tia. Time to meet the girls!” Ibby had turned and was tapping her foot, arms crossed. The smile and sparkle in her eye betrayed her ,though.
“You couldn't have warned me?” I was no longer as good with surprises as I once was.
She started dragging me. “Nah. You needed to get outside the house anyway, you've been hiding out in it for days. You needed some fresh air, and some friends of ours wanted to meet you, so here we are! This little get together is a yearly thing, we all get together and talk shop or catch up, and just celebrate being awesome.”
Celebrate being awesome? Yeah, I could see it.
She hadn't stopped pulling me; our target was the closest table, the one already completely set up of course. She stopped, still holding on to me, and yelled, loudly.
“Hiiii everyone! My friend here is Tia; Tia, everyone!”
I put an elbow in her side as everyone looked at us, which she ignored with a smile. It was almost like someone had thrown chum into a shark tank; anyone not already doing something was closing on us. No, not us, on me. At least they seemed like nice sharks. They took turns and everything.
“Hello, Tia, I'm Marsha!” Stated a chipper silver haired lady that had to be in her fifties, but had aged very well.
“Good morning Tia, I'm Andria.” Stated an even more chipper brunette that looked to be around Mom's age.
And so on, they introduced themselves politely, one at a time, sometimes holding a hand out to shake, and sometimes just continuing to do cookout stuff. There were a few guys as well, some dapper, some scruffy, but they seemed to be plus ones to the event. And through it all Hugh stood, manning the grill with his helper. Ibby tugged me over there as soon as the last playmate, a chocolate skinned raven haired beauty that rivaled Ibby's curves named Kalindra, introduced herself.
Ibby got close and introduced us. “And here is your host, Hugh. Hugh, Tia.” She apparently didn't feel his last name needed to be mentioned. She was right.
He turned and gave a sunny smile, dropping the steak he'd been inspecting. “Pleased to finally meet you, Tia. And please, call me uncle Hugh. Ibby is like a daughter to me.”
He held out a hand and we shook. I didn't grip too hard, he looked breakable. He was old. Old old. So skinny he was almost emaciated, lines everywhere, but his eyes still sparkled with life and vigor, and he moved a bit better than it seemed he should.
“Pleased to meet you, sir. So, this cabin is yours?” Of course it was, it was big enough that everyone here could sleep, at least if they bedded down two per room, and some of the décor… well, who else would have a hot tub in the living room, under the floor?
“Sure is, the summer home away from home. It was in a good spot and the real estate market was in a dip, so here we are. It makes a good place to entertain from, away from the mansion. And please, call me uncle Hugh.”
The playmate next to Hugh's side chose that moment to introduce herself: “Hi, I'm Jennifer. Pleased to meet you, Tia.” We shook.
Hugh winked at me and held up the steak he'd been inspecting. “Don't worry Tia, this one's actually tofu. It's actually pretty amazing, the things done with food nowadays. I can't even tell the difference.”
I couldn't tell the difference either, it even had a bone? Was the bone edible? “Sir…' I started and he gave me such a look of disappointment I couldn't help but correct myself. 'Hugh. Not to sound rude or anything, but why am I here? I mean, you don't know me, I don't know you….”
He smiled again, loading the grill up with hotdogs while Jennifer took some ribs off for room. “Ah, but you know Ibby, and I know both Ibby and your Mom. Strella does public relations work for me and a few of the playmates, and she sometimes gives out free financial advice to the bunnies. As for why you're here, Ibby and your mother both agreed you needed to get out of the house, and Ibby really didn't want to leave you alone there, but she didn't want to miss the party.”
I glared at Ibby and she shrugged, she wasn't sorry about that at all.
Hugh continued: “And lastly, you're here because of opportunity. What type and how you can take advantage of it will have to wait until your Mom gets here, however. My lawyer.' he pointed out Marsha with his head, 'insists. That will be sometime after lunch, so relax and enjoy!”
I had a sneaking suspicion I knew what the opportunity he was speaking of was. He pioneered the rabbit eared look, after all.
“Thanks, um, Hugh. I'll do that.”
The women (Bunnies? Playmates?) wouldn't leave me alone. Anywhere I went, one would be, and they are always polite and friendly, but present and insistent I join into whatever was going on. I played two games of chess (lost both), one of twister, of all things (Ibby joined in and cheated by flying, but no one cared other than to laugh and throw stuff at her) and went on a hike with Marsha the lawyer, who had better stamina than I did. And throughout it all, the women talked.
Lyndsey, the chess player, complimented my play with a smile even as she destroyed me. Betty and Sandra, our audience, did too. They said only a few people could beat her, and I showed promise.
Nicole, out early in the game of twister, complimented my flexibility, which felt odd since I'd done nothing to earn it. I told her so and she sighed, pouted, and promised to show me some yoga exercises to keep it. Andre, also watching the game on the sidelines, kept telling me where the nearest colors I needed were behind me, prompting some cheating catcalls. Well, before Ibby spun around in the air and the focus turned to her.
Marsha talked about the trees and the birds in the area, even pointing out the more rare species flying around.
In short, they were all so nice. It was insane, in a way; I was even pretty sure their choices in clothes had been because they knew I was coming. As soon as we got back from the hike, lunch was served and I ate at a table with Hugh, Marsha, Lyndsey, and Jennifer, eating tofu and fries.
The fries had been properly fried, and Jennifer had told Hugh no when he went to grab some... So he stole one of hers with a smile. She was not amused – I got the feeling she was his nurse or something – and neither was the rest of the table. No one said anything, but the mood of the table went gloomy until Hugh held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Alright, alright, no more. So, how about a story, Tia?”
The table tensed again for a moment, before Hugh launched into an improbable tale of an expedition to Africa which sounded like something out of a movie, and probably didn't happen. Or not happen that way, in any rate. It was interesting though, and by the time he was done with it Mom was there, eating right next to me, having somehow switched with Lindsey without me noticing in all the noise and confusion of scents.
“Mom! How long have you been there?!?”
She swallowed a bite with a grin. “About since the intrepid party reached the Congo. You having fun?”
I half wanted to hear the end of the story, if only to get a good idea on how far Hugh would go to finish it. The real story had probably ended up with them in a hotel/resort somewhere, sipping mixed drinks and laughing about the lies they'd tell people later. He was good at it, though, it was a shame to stop him.
“Yes, it's been fun, and everyone's been really nice. But now that you're here, we can get on to why I'm here. Something was mentioned earlier about an opportunity?”
Hugh actually pouted for a second; it was a little weird. Marsha however, got serious, and though Jennifer was still smiling, she tensed. I really hoped they weren't going to suggest what I thought they would – I liked them so far, but I would walk right home if they did.
Mom smiled. “Right to it, huh?”
She took a last bite, downed her drink, and turned serious herself. Hugh spoke first, however.
“My company, my brand, is in trouble. To be blunt, it's as old as I am. Ibby, the bunnies, the playmates, it's from a time that no longer exists, and it's dated.”
I couldn't argue that. How could Playboy compete with the internet?
“We are in the process of rebranding' Hugh continued, 'but it's rough going. The response to new investments in clothing, fashion, and other areas has been underwhelming, at least in the U.S. There have been some inroads in Japan and Asian countries, but that's neither here nor there.”
He pointed to Ibby. “Ibby did the same thing when she was a little older than you are now; she was a spokeswoman of her generation. A few of the other girls here did too. Now you may not like them, but those ears of yours, and that tail, present you with a unique opportunity; I'd like you to be that spokesperson I need for this generation. The one to help me connect with the youth of today, and help my company. In return, I'll help you.”
I had to just throw it out there. “I'm not going to pose for your magazine, Mr. Hefner.”
Just the very thought gave me the chills, and it would invite attention I didn't want. Even if I was comfy in my own new skin I don't think I wanted to give people more cause to burn me at the stake, either figuratively or literally.
But Hugh agreed immediately. “Of course you won't; that wouldn't send the right message at all. And please, call me uncle Hugh. What I want, is for you to ask around, get to know the girls, have fun and be happy… and ask them about me. I'll treat you as I do any employee of mine. And then what I want, is for you to sign a contract to me, stating that any modeling work you do I get first crack at. I'll pay you well for that.
Then what I want, is when you're ready, you model for me; clothes modeling, mostly. Just selling the brand to the young crowd. You'll get free clothes, and it's good quality stuff, travel expenses to locations, the works. And you won't even have to wear a bikini if you don't want to. But that's all at your call, and subject to things like school or a day job or whatever else you want to do.”
Jennifer weighed in: “He means it. I'm a certified nurse with eight years of school behind me, and he paid for it all.”
“He paid for my stint in law school. Whatever you want to do, he will back you in it.” Marsha added.
Hugh leaned back, looking pleased while I thought. “Thanks, girls, it's kind of you to say.”
Marsha snorted loudly. I turned to Mom. “Can I talk it over with Mom?' and afterthought and I added 'and Ibby?”
Ibby looked genuinely surprised, but Hugh just nodded. “Sure, but if you don't mind, you'll have to be the ones to move.”
I could deal with that. I led the two people here I knew off onto one of the hiking trails.
“So, what do you think, Mom?”
She searched my eyes a moment. “The deal he's offering is an exclusivity arrangement. You don't have to model at all, even if you sign it, but if you do, you model for him first. He owns some rights to your image in conjunction with you until the contract expires. Even if you never have a single photo taken, he pays you for the privilege. The only downside I see in this is if word of the contract gets out; it could sway public opinion against you. However, a non-disclosure agreement on all parties would probably stop that from happening.”
Ibby rolled her eyes. “Spoken like a true PR agent.” She turned to me. “Look, kiddo, Hugh is trying to be nice to you here, as nice as a guy who owns a business can. He wants to throw money at you, something I can agree with because you're a good kid. This contract? It doesn't really have a downside to you. If it had, I'd have told him to stuff it before today.
If he thinks you can help out in return, I can sort of see it, but it's up to you. If we make sure the proper clauses are in your contract before we sign, he can't force you to do anything you don't want to, even if he would, which he won't. All of us?
We're here because we want to be, and even if you don't sign anything, you'll be leaving here today with enough digits to make Saudi princes jealous. You'll be one of the sisterhood, like it or not, and you'll be able to call on any of us, any hour. You need legal advice at 3am? You call Marsha. You need gardening advice? You call Nicole. Need to know what to do in case of carpenter ants? Well, you'll call Marsha again, because she knows bugs.
And us? When we need to know how the younger generation thinks, or stuff about computers, well, we might call you. That's a given whatever you decide.”
I was touched. These women didn't really know me… but it sounded like they wanted to. A few of them were even minor celebrities in their own right (I knew from Mom it wasn't polite to point that out) and they must know a little of what I'm going through; just venting to them might be nice.
“And, if you do decide to model later… most of that will be hitting foreign shores, like Japan and Germany. You'd be modeling jeans and hoodies and shirts and stuff like that. Swimsuits, possibly, but one pieces are possible. Activewear, like track suits and sweats, hats, sunglasses, that kind of thing.”
It seemed to me that I wasn't as perfect for the job as everyone seemed to think, really. “but what about my tail?” I wiggled it. “It's not a puffball like yours, or like the bunnies wear.”
Ibby nodded. “We think that's a plus, actually, as well as your more unique appearance. Gives a further level of separation to the new brand. Focus groups agree.”
Focus groups? They had put together focus groups for this? And this fast?
Ibby read my look. “No, not focus groups just for you, focus groups on what we should look for in new models. Those were conducted a year ago, it's just happy coincidence that you seem to fit.”
This was all pretty fast. I didn't think I was model material at all, and it would probably only add to the numbers of squicky mail I'd gotten since IT happened, not to mention further the stereotype many people were already sure I'd be living up to. If I did it, it would link me to everything Hugh, for better or worse.
In short, it would have to be a lot of money on that table. I doubted I'd be offered enough.
I decided to at least ask. “How much is he planning on offering?”
Ibby fired back immediately. “A hundred thousand, for starters, plus whatever perks we can get him to agree to.”
That… was a lot of money to do nothing for someone on, even with the baggage. I looked at Mom, and she didn't seem surprised.
She stayed silent, letting me work it out. “What sort of perks are you talking about?”
Ibby got less exuberant… nervous? “Well, it's something your Mom and I have been discussing. How would you like to finish school somewhere else? Somewhere secret, where reporters aren't allowed, and the medical experts are top notch? If you should… destabilize, they have the best chance to fix you. One of the doctors there, Quintan, is one of the foremost experts on mutation in the world.”
Something was fishy here. “Sounds expensive, and what would a doctor be doing at a school?”
“Well, it is expensive, but I've offered to split the cost with Hugh. And the doc does research of course.”
Research, from the foremost expert on mutation, at a school, could only mean one thing.
“You mean to send me to a mutant school? Xaviers home for powered psychos?” I was a little proud at how even my voice sounded.
That and a little worried about it.
Ibby winced. “We aren't all bad, you know. And the school cracks down on troublemakers very hard; I have the old detention slips to prove it. You'd be safe there. But most importantly, only a few people know it exists, and even fewer know where it is. They get famous or infamous kids there often, so they know how to deal with it.”
Mom was still silent. I looked to her. “Do you think I should go?”
She nodded immediately. “Yes. They are best equipped to handle the problems you have, and can find and deal with any more we've missed; like the memory issues you have.”
Mom had a point. If something else popped up, could I really expect the tiny MCO office that only had a receptionist on permanent staff to help me? The hospital, whose experts had been flown in? My new doctor, who was lacking in experience with cases like mine? Mom didn't want to take the risk.
But it was a mutant school; filled with mutant devisors.
“Can I think on it? Can we just add that as a possibility, and let me think it over?”
Mom smiled. “Of course we can.”
She'd likely be yelling at me later.
Ibby grinned instead. “That sounds like a yes to me. That your answer, kiddo?”
I thought about it, one last time. “Yes, it's a yes. Negotiations I'll leave to Mom, but I'll sign.”
I knew I was out of my depth, but I was sure Mom had done this sort of thing before.
Ibby corrected me. “Hey, your Mom AND me, Tia. I'm actually on your side on this one.”
We went back, and what followed was probably the most boring hour of my life. Between Mom, Marsha, Ibby, and Hugh, they managed to use enough words I didn't know and doublespeak to completely lose me. I understood enough to know the contract didn't change much from how it was outlined to me earlier, but there were additions of the school tuition and incidentals being covered and gifts… and a mail service? A doctor on call?
Ibby explained. “We all get mail, internet or snail. The service culls through it first and removes undesirable mail so we don't have to see it. Strella told me about some of the stuff you've been getting.”
“But what about the doctor?”
“Well, he's a doctor, but he's more of a pharmacist. He only became a doctor so he could write his own prescriptions; we aren't sure if you'll need his expertise, but it never hurts to put it in the contract. After all, paying him out of pocket is… expensive, and he's busy often. Putting him on retainer means he drops everything if you need him. He made your clips too, and if they break it sucks."
That sounded more than a little weird; a retainer for a doctor? “Is he okay with this?”
Ibby shrugged and flashed me an irreverent grin. “I don't know, why don't you ask him? He's in the living room, on the couch, watching a movie.”
So she was volunteering the guy without checking with him first? Wow. “Think I will. Be right back.”
There was only one person on the living room couch, though one of the women was also watching the movie; Felicity was her name. Like everyone else around, he was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and he looked bored. Felicity, on the other hand, was surfing the web on her phone, playing some kind of game that was a little annoying to hear. I was beginning to understand why everyone had dressed in shorts; the cabin was getting pretty hot and the air conditioning was off.
The movie was one I hadn't seen before; I sat down on the other side of the couch and studied him. He was a handsome guy, not stacked the way the guys outside were, but built and with refined features. He was just beginning to go gray, but he didn't look distinguished at all. He looked more like a hippy dressing up than a doctor dressing down, for all that he was clean shaven and had short hair.
“Ibby's out there right now, volunteering your services on retainer on total strangers.”
He turned and gave me a once over. “Not total strangers, to you. You're her sister.”
He held up a hand before I could let him have it. “Not by blood, but she's… adopted you, kinda, I guess. And that's good enough for me. If you have special problems with biology and need meds, I'm your guy. Working name's Bolus, by the way.”
He offered his hand and we shook. “Special problems?”
“Ibby's a regenerator, kid. Most medications just won't work on her, and those that do don't work as well. I can make medications that work with unique biology.”
That made sense. Ibby had already told me what medicine she took, and what she took it for. So this was the guy that made it, huh?
He continued. “The way I understand it, bringing me in is simply a 'just in case' thing. I'm also good at making complex stuff that has few to no side effects, so you don't need to watch 25 seconds of a 30 second commercial hearing all the ways in which your eyeballs can explode from taking meds you may need.”
He laughed along with me. Those commercials were funny, but I'd never take the medications pharmacy companies showed on them for that very reason; it seemed counter-intuitive to advertising to me.
Still, I pressed on. “So you're fine with it?”
He shrugged, turning back to the movie. “Sure, I wouldn't have told her to do it if I wasn't. Seriously, you should hear how she talks about you when you aren't around; it's always 'Tia this' and 'my little sis' that. She thinks the world of you, somehow. It's actually kinda disturbing, but that's Ibby for you.”
I could see it.
Meh, screw going back out there, I was a little tired and wanted to see the movie. I stretched out on the remaining space of the couch and settled in.
Then I crept up until I was comfortable. When Bolus started stroking my ears, running his fingers gently through the fur, I realized I was leaning against him, but it felt so nice I didn't want to move or tell him to stop. It didn't make sense anyway since I was already touching him.
It was some time later when we were both lost in the plot of spaceship battles and explosions, and the mighty Xen'xe empire's conquering of the peace loving Dilosites (and I was just beginning to nod off) that the door opened and Bolus spoke.
“Ibby, could you get my bag, please? The one in the corner?”
“Sure, what's going… oh.”
I looked up to see Ibby towering over both of us; her face looked sad. Had negotiations broke down while I was gone or something? I didn't care, I could always fix it later when I wasn't this content or sleepy. I stretched and draped myself over Bolus a little more. He absently switched hands until he was stroking my ears again.
“Come on, Tia, up you go.” Ibby grabbed my hand and pulled me up, even when I slumped as dead weight.
“Why?”
Mom entered the room: “Tia, time to... what's going on here?”
Oh, that tone of voice. She was not happy with someone. “Nothing Mom, just got a little tired is all. Is it time to sign my life away?”
Okay, I know the joke was a bad one, but did everyone have to look at me like that?
Ibby pulled me the rest of the way up and Mom turned to her. Ibby wouldn't meet her eyes. Mom turned to Bolus who had both hands up in surrender. I was beginning to think I was the one in trouble, somehow. Ibby kept me close as she passed the bag over.
“What's wrong? Did I do something wrong somehow?”
Mom crossed the distance and hugged me close, whispering in my ear. “No Tia, you haven't. But you're not going to like what I have to say. You were sitting on the couch, right?”
I thought about it. “Well, I was more lying on it, because I was tired....”
Mom nodded; she was crying. I'd made her cry somehow. “Across a man you never met before today. Was he doing anything to you?”
“No, he was just stroking my ears.” Oh wait. Oh, God. A person I never met before today, a man no less, and I was laying across him and letting him touch me because it felt good. Even now I couldn't see the harm, but that only meant one thing: I was like Ibby.
No wonder people were freaking out; I was stupid and disgusting. I was everything Jamie had called me and more. I had even thought that he wouldn't do anything to me because I wasn't as pretty as everyone else here. I'd actually thought that!
Mom sat me on the couch, sandwiching me between Ibby and herself. “Tia, I'm not mad at you. We planned for this, remember? We had a plan in case this happened.”
Bolus spoke, earning a hard stare from my Mom that I saw through my veil of tears. “I was that plan. Medicine is in the bag, calibrated to her weight and biology.”
Mom's tone was frosty. “And just what do you think you were doing, a grown man, touching a young girl like that?”
Bolus passed a medicine bottle to Ibby, then raised his hands again. “Trying to keep the situation under control and wait for the cavalry. I couldn't very well hold her down, or I'd look like the worst kind of guy, I couldn't explain the situation to her,” I heard the implicated 'cause I didn't want her flying apart on me' there.' “And I didn't want her getting any bright ideas. Luckily she didn't, so I was keeping her there and calm until you arrived.”
Mom gave him the fish-eye while Ibby opened the bottle and slapped a pill into my palm. It was innocent enough, pure white with the number 11 stamped on it. It was small enough, so I swallowed it dry.
Felicity spoke, reminding us all she was there. “It happened exactly as Bolus said; he was a perfect gentleman.”
Mom nodded and let it go while Ibby snuggled up to the man. Had I looked like that, not five minutes ago?
“Alright, you're off the hook, for now.”
Ibby grinned at Mom and patted Bolus on the cheek. “Don't worry Strella, he's mine and he knows it.”
Just more evidence that Ibby was off, really. She hadn't read the mood right at all. And I was joining her there, if I hadn't already. Maybe my pills would be more effective than hers?
Bolus snagged Ibby's hand and turned to me. “Once a day, every day. It doesn't matter when you take them, but try to make sure no more than 24 hours pass. There shouldn't be any side effects, if there are, call me. Alright?”
I nodded. “I'm sorry, sir, for what I did.”
He shrugged. “I've been placed in worse spots, kid. I've been Ibby's friend a long time.”
Ibby pouted; he didn't buy it. I didn't either. “Mom, I'd really like to go home now.”
Mom sighed. “We can't yet. Mr. Hefner is still looking for a signature, and you WILL read the contract first. We can go home after that.”
Well, the sooner we got it done, the sooner I could go home. I stood up. Mom shook her head, stood up, and led me into the bathroom. Having Mom in the bathroom with me felt all kinds of weird; just us girls, though, I guess.
“Wash those tears away.” She suited her own actions to her words.
I scrubbed and primped until she was satisfied, and we both went back out, appearing in control if not feeling it.
Hugh put a smile on as he saw us, it looked genuine, as had the look of concern he'd wore just before; he probably already knew what happened.
He didn't say anything about it. “Tia, Estrella. I was beginning to worry a bit, but no one was screaming.”
Mom gave a ghost of a smile. “No, nothing bad. We just had a minor problem, easily corrected.”
The pill bottle in my pants seemed to burn.
“Tia's here to read what we came up with.”
I knew a hint when I heard one. Pulled the tablet over and read the document.
It was almost exactly as explained; The contract stipulated that any modeling was optional. If I did model in the next 2 years, any form of it, Playboy got first crack at any images or film. Only after the company said no would anyone else be allowed to pick it up. If another company wanted me to model for them, they had to work through Playboy.
Mom had managed to talk Hugh up to 250k though. A year. That was nice. On top of all the perks mentioned before of course.
It was stipulated several times that I had the right to refuse any modeling work I wasn't comfortable with. It all looked in order, so I printed it out on the mobile printer and signed both copies.
“I'm sorry, sir... er, Hugh. I'm not feeling well. I'd like to go home.”
Hugh looked up from where he was carefully adding his own signature. Yeah, he knew. “That's quite alright, Tia. Feel better, and feel free to call, for any reason.”
“Thank you.” I waved and said goodbyes to everyone close enough while we headed around the side to where the cars were parked. Mom carefully put the contract away in a file folder she got from somewhere.
Ibby was leaning against her car with Bolus, waiting for us. “I'll take her back, Strella. You take Bolus for me, okay?”
I shuffled from foot to foot while Mom stared at Ibby. “Fine. See you at home, honey.”
she pulled me into a quick hug and got in our car, Bolus gulped and followed... though he got in the back, out of reach. That was kind of amusing.
“Come on.” Ibby tossed me the keys. “You're driving.”
“You sure?” Pink or not, her car was a classic, and therefore expensive.
“Positive.”
I shrugged, adjusted everything and set off, following Mom home. After a few minutes of silence, Ibby had had enough.
“It isn't that bad, you know. Being like me that is.”
I gripped the wheel harder but stayed silent. What could I even say?
What she blurted out next was even worse. “I was lonely. I've spent a long time as a hero and ex-hero; my name and where I live is public record, my face is known, and it makes it hard to get close to people. I just wanted to be able to blend in for awhile, to really get to know people without holding them at arm's length.
Then you got zapped and it was my fault, at least in part. But I had someone I could truly be myself around, someone who understood what it was like to be me, at least a little. Hounded wherever you go by people who wanted something from you, or wanted to say they knew you never able to hide. And as guilty as I felt, I loved it, you know?
And you, you're a good kid. I can't have any, but if I could I'd have wanted them to be like you. I wanted to help you. I just can't leave you alone. And now you're more like me than ever, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry it distresses you. Fuck, I don't know how to say this, kid.”
Then she looked over. “Hey! Eyes on the road!”
I couldn't help it. I giggled... then laughed. She laughed along after a moment, and the mood was broken.
I couldn't blame her; it was Jamie's fault, not hers.
“So kid, your driver's test is coming up; given a thought about what kind of car you want?”
Ibby's attempts to change the subject sucked, but I let her. “I was thinking something like an old carrera or boxter. I really like porsches, but it's kind of up to Mom.”
Ibby grinned, lifting her eyebrows. “Really? Not something like mine? This car is pretty good, go ahead and open her up.”
She was trying to get us pulled over. “No thanks, and your car is a little too pink for me. Besides, something electric might be the way to go anyway, with the way things are going.”
Ibby muttered something I didn't catch over the wind about the color pink; she was probably agreeing with me. "By the way, remember what I said earlier about digits? She shoved her phone in my pocket. "Keep it, I got a new one, and that one is pretty secure and hard to find. When you pick up, you won't have to worry about someone you don't know saying hello."
******
“And that's basically it. I had to take my driver's test twice because people raised a stink about me having one when reports of my memory loss surfaced. I spent the rest of the summer getting checked periodically and relearning my languages. The final straw on where to go for school was when I found Rex outside my house in a bush with binoculars.”
The airplane was landing, tray tables and seat backs were up, all electronic devices were off, so I was trying to rush things a little. The stewardess had asked about my clips, but I knew they wouldn't cause interference and she didn't press.
“Let's see, what else. I never did get a car; I was always too busy to shop for one. Maybe next time I'm home. That's basically it.”
Paul smiled; it was a beautiful smile, really. “That's fine. Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me.”
We chatted about lighter subjects while the plane ambled down the tarmac to the gate.
******
He waited patiently with her while everyone else disembarked. He said all the right things, made all the right movements, at all the right times. She left trusting him. He hoped it helped her, to open up like that. It was said confession was good for the soul. she had been too close near the end, the rambling a clue to ease off, just a bit.
The airport closing hampered the plan somewhat; it irritated. He could get through it all, but it might leave a trail for those knowing what to look for. He found the old payphones and punched in the number. It was answered immediately.
“It's me. Your hunch was right; we can use her. Play it right and there could be repeats.”
He hung up and wished the bunny girl luck. She would need it, her school life was about to get very interesting.
Mark Winchester studied the tape's second airing, noting the time lapse in the right hand corner. He then looked in on the vault the footage showed in real time through the very camera used to tape the proceedings in question. The usual priceless relics, like the crowns remaining from Pax Romana and the left overs from the ancient library were still present, but the centerpiece and the reason for the vault's existence was definitively gone. He turned to the poor technician watching with him, who was on duty last night. The good lieutenant didn't know it yet, but his days at this posting were numbered.
"Sir, The footage can't be right, can it? I mean..."
"Lieutenant Hendricks, Did you not inspect the Vault as ordered?"
"Yes sir, last night as ordered!"
"What did you find?"
"I found a cut in the vault Sir!"
"Show me."
The lieutenant looked at his immediate superior, who was continuing the vault vigil, before leading down the lead sheathed hall. Twenty five meters later they came to the immense vault door which they ignored in favor of another stretch of hall. a quick left led them to the staircase leading to the top of the structure. Once there he simply pointed.
Mark walked upon the roof without fear, knowing the traps were disarmed for the moment. He measured the hole cut cleanly through nearly two meters of lead sheathed reinforced concrete; 3 centimeters by 15.24 centimeters, cut or burned clean through, no evidence of tool marks.
"Have the repair crews been notified?"
"They are waiting in the mess sir." No doubt waiting for him to finish up first before they began their work.
"Alright, we are done here, send them up."
Mark took the staircase in double time; after all, some things you just shouldn't use cell phones for.
It took nearly an hour by chopper for Mark to reach the target location of his briefing; along the way he pieced together the rest of the scanty clues, which amounted to a satellite image and a few air defense radar print outs....and of course, a copy of the tape in digital format. He was out almost before the chopper landed, running straight to the door leading out of the pleasant garden he loved, but had to ignore in favor of speed.
"Hold it right there, major."
"Sigh, you know who I am, sergeant."
"you know the rules major, no admittance without the test."
"fine."
he quickly spat into the receptacle built into the door, while sticking his finger in the hole next to it. Feeling the telltale prick, he withdrew the finger as the door chimed recognition. Once inside the lieutenant in the small room patted him down while the rest of the team covered him. They took everything, only handing back the documents.
"So what's the all fired hurry major?"
"I need to see Redfern now. Call down and clear her."
The lieutenant's eyes widened. By the time he reached for the red phone next to him, Mark was a floor down, taking the stairs 2 at a time.
Which meant of course, he hit the room he normally met Redfern in just in time to wait. The room itself was actually a small chamber, dank and smelling of mold. It only ever had a small uncomfortable chair in it, and nothing else. the chair however, faced a small throne separated from the room by a foot thick pane of what looked to be clear glass...but was not. That was further reinforced by bars that looked to be steel, but were not.
It took almost 27 minutes for Redfern to open the door to the other room and move at stately speed to the small but ornate throne. Mark let loose a small shrug as he bowed then sank to one knee, disdaining the chair. Earlier than he expected.
"You may be seated Sir Bedivere...Your report?"
"Yes, your majesty. It's gone."
"Gone!" she rose, aghast. Never had she looked so old to him.
"Yes majesty, I brought the footage with me, you have my net-book?"
"I do indeed."
"the file marked "bullox", your majesty.
"How apropos sir Bedivere."
She watched in silence.
"No evidence of any other agency acting on it?"
"None whatsoever. All instrumentation in and outside the vault was silent, and of course, yours is the only hand that can open the vault itself."
"So under it's own power then...any evidence on where it is headed?"
"Yes majesty, both a lone satellite image and radar pickets confirm it is headed across the Atlantic at mach 4.5 almost on a direct line with New York city."
"Of course, it would have to be an American branch after all, the blood isn't pure enough here." She sighed, then straightened.
"Sir Bedivere, you are to be on a flight to America within the hour. Track it down, and the one who called to it. Take your full kit and team. All resources needed will be granted you."
"Yes, your majesty." he saluted and left, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. Besides, he needed every spare minute. What to do once he found the person in question, well he doubted even his majesty had the foggiest.
Math is hard. Stupid hard, especially when trying to teach yourself from websites like mathforum...I mean the time I have to actually work on it the teachers and students aren't on to help; makes it a real bear. It gets even worse when you have to constantly be on your guard from those who would want nothing more than to throw you out of the library. But as I constantly tell myself, I'm all about perseverance. And talking to myself.
So there I was, alert as ever, working on problem number 6 that I had set for myself. When Jess walked up.
"Reg there you are; it's been a week, I was beginning to worry! So what is it today?"
"Hi Jess, it's math today. This algebra is a pain."
She made a production of looking over my notes, using the gesture to slide a plastic wrapped sandwich, an apple, and a banana from her cart to the desk. I pretended not to notice.
"It's right up to this point; you have the X substituted properly, carried on both sides, but down her on step 4 you needed to multiply first."
"Ahh, I see." I corrected it and moved on to the next.
"So I noticed your handiwork; thank you."
"No problem Jess, least I can do for you not tossing me out of here or calling the cops. Thank you for the lunch."
"And that's the least I can do, after all you've likely saved the library hundreds of dollars in clean up."
"Surely it's not that bad, I mean lye soap and water can take care of it with enough effort."
"Just don't let the gangs catch you, they have to be mad about all the tag removal."
"don't worry about it, they won't catch me. You hired me, I'll deliver."
"I just wish you'd take more, you're definitely worth it."
"I really can't; besides, this,' I gestured to the computer. 'is plenty."
"Well, I need to get going before achy Agatha comes and writes me up. You hang in there, math is awful."
With a sigh she headed into the racks, and I resumed both my homework and vigil. Nonchalantly pocketing the food left for me. Of course nearly an hour later as I stared at the last problem I needed in order to complete my self made math course (hopefully giving me a freshman math equivalent). When I spotted the dreaded boss and head librarian, 'achy' Agatha, with a full head of steam already headed my way and at a distance of 100 feet.
With cries of "Young man, stop! I've called the authorities." ringing in my ears, I grabbed my small backpack and ran full tilt into the aisles of books. Agatha may have the front door blocked, but I knew where the basement door was, and of a certain broken window that I could squeeze out of. Being small had some advantages. And as long as Agatha didn't see me leave by it, it was reusable.
Dodging between people and shelves was easy enough, since it was the middle of the day and the place was empty, and Agatha, being somewhere close to 100 years old, just couldn't keep up. The basement, haven of old moldy books no one knew existed anymore. I navigated the maze with ease, and found the sole source of light...the window I was looking for.
And just that easily, I was out into the mid morning sunshine. Can't catch this ghost! Gahh...I put a heavy mental boot to my ego and looked around once I got to the mouth of the alley. No one specifically looking at me, plenty of people pretending I didn't exist...check. No police in sight, though the distant sirens never really seemed to stop here in beautiful downtown Detroit. It was a beautiful sunny day with a cloudless sky, rare enough it seemed. Well since I'd gotten chased out of the library I needed somewhere to go, and something to do, preferably both hidden from prying eyes.
My stomach chose to remind me that now would be a great time to eat, since I'd been 2 days without and actually had real food. I should probably come to the library more often, Jessica would likely find more gainful employment (and food at the end of it) for me. But for now....hmm. The park wasn't too far. I set my course and moved, flowing through the crowd like a fish through water...or a pariah.
"Why did you do that? I just got him back in here! He needs a haven Agatha, not another place to watch his back!"
To say Jessica Hardy was incensed was to say the sun was merely hot. To even think of confronting her superior, who scared the spit from her in the best of times, she was nearly blind with rage.
"After all the help he's given this library, this is how you repay him? He saved the taxpayer hundreds in clean up fees! He's cleaning up the walls every time they get tagged, and risking his neck for it!"
"that is exactly why he needs to be off the street! The proper authorities can help him."
"They will send him back to his parents, which he ran away from in the first place! He must have had a reason for that, he's a good kid! He doesn't even eat in the library, no matter how hungry he is! YOU eat in the library!"
"If there is a reason he ran away, child services can sort it out. The street is no place for a child, no matter the reason."
She sighed and nodded her agreement.
"I've tried to get him to go in on his own, but he won't. He's so very stubborn."
"He's a child...he may hate us for it now, but getting him proper help and off the street can only help him in the long run. I've noticed him keeping up his 'schoolwork'."
"Yes, every time hes in here, it's always for learning sites and school teaching aids."
Jessica resolved to herself to help Glen on his own terms, regardless what 'achy Agatha' thought. It wouldn't stop her from trying to get Reg to come in on his own, but she wouldn't force the child. His mistrust of adults had to have been earned somehow, and wouldn't be helped by more authority figures forcing their way in. She just hoped that he wouldn't stay away too long...each time he came he looked more thin than the last.
Jessica made a mean ham sandwich. I sat there, in my secluded spot which I was pretty sure only I knew about, watching the water from the river flow over the rocks, and eating my lunch. I carefully folded in plastic baggie and put it in my pack, and put the peel and apple core in my pocket. Biodegradable or not, it's still litter, and therefore against the law. I grabbed my metal pot and dipped it into the river, heading back to my spot...a little culvert that was usually dry. I set my sleeping bag out and set the water on my small fire placed there (to boil the water of course) and pulled out the small roll of printed paper I'd payed precious dimes for...another lesson, this one in science.
It was near 3 o clock when Marty Sands looked up and spotted that grungy kid that always hung around his favorite gym. He was here because it was after the lunch rush and before the after work rush, and it was blessedly empty. So there he was, working his favorite speed bag, when he happened to look up and there the kid was...maybe just a hair over 5 feet, dirty, dressed in clothes a size or more too large. He HATED kids, but hated this one more than most; she was so pushy! Always showing up with her hand out.
"Excuse me, sir, have you seen Devon?"
"In his office kid, same as usual."
As she walked by he wrinkled his nose a bit...at least she knew how to take a bath; more than most homeless kids ever managed.
Devon Williams was at his desk staring at the red ink in his ledger; it had a way of creeping up and owning every page. He was just barely making ends meet. Same as most other businesses lately, not enough customers who wanted to learn the fine art of boxing or defending themselves, and too much overhead keeping the lights on.
"You're frowning at that paperwork Devon, it must be a bill. Guess I'll come back later...?"
"nonsense! Won't lie to you kid, it's bad, but that is why I need you. You do janitorial work as well as any professional, and cheaper than anyone. Lord knows this place needs it, buncha sweaty balding guys in the middle of their mid life crises, stinking the place up and not so much as picking up a towel."
A snicker caused him to glance up and see the rare smile, a quick flash of teeth that was gone almost as if it had ever existed.
"Thank that's funny huh? Well one of those sweaty guys complained again that you walked right into the bathroom bold as brass and started cleaning. They were very annoyed that a girl was in the boy's room."
"Ugh, didn't you tell them I'm male?"
"Sure I did kiddo, but they think you're lying to me. I can kind of see their point. I mean I believe you, you showed me. But your voice is just a touch high, your small as hell, and your bone structure..."
"I get it, I get it! You know, most people are able to tell I'm a guy pretty easily. Only a few people get fooled."
"The dumb ones, right kiddo?"
"I didn't say that. So do you need me today? It is Wednesday, right?"
"Yeah I do, and it is. You're a bit early though, library not go well?"
Devon watched as the boy's mood suffered a sea change from only mildly bad to category 4. He ordered his working supplies before answering.
"I got chased out. Agatha wants to send me back to my parents."
"I see. Well the work is ever present, and the fridge and cot are in the back as always."
"Thank you, I'll get started."
Devon frowned again as the kid he knew as Reggie left. There had to be a way to help him without getting the pigs involved...if only he actually made money....
I started with the bathrooms, so as to avoid any more complaints; it wouldn't do to lose gainful employment. First up was the large communal locker room complete with a dozen shower stalls and adjacent bathroom that opened into it. Two stalls with toilets, two urinals, and two sinks, an ancient paper towel dispenser with a waste basket under it completed the first stop.
It took 40 minutes to clean it, but it was worth it when I could see ym face gleaming out of the floor tiles. Bot that my face was great mind you, but seeing anything reflected on the floor was a plus. I skipped out just in time to see that man who defined 'curmudgeon', Mr. Sands, run into me flabby gut first.
I rebounded of course, with a surprised squeak. He glared down at me as I picked myself up.
"What are you doing in here little girl?"
"Sir, I'm not a girl..and I was cleaning. I'll be cleaning in here now if you don't mind."
He peeked into the bathroom.
"I don't mind if Devon doesn't. Wow you do great work. I was just on my way out...see you later kid."
"Have a good day sir."
"Oh and kid, if you don't want to be mistaken for a girl, might help to cut your hair. Couldn't hurt."
"I'll keep that in mind sir."
And just like that I had the place to myself. but only perhaps an hour to clean the locker rooms...I'd have to hurry. Devon however slowed my roll.
"knew I'd find you going at it hard. No way kid, knock off and take that cot offer, after work rush will be starting soon and I'd rather not have you underfoot. K?"
I viewed his best gimlet stare, sighed, and nodded.
"You're the boss Mr. Williams."
I slipped back into Mr. Williams' office and into the combination kitchen and nap room that Mr. Williams had set up for himself, and allowed me to use. Use of the fridge and the goodies inside hadn't been mentioned, so I walked past it, even though I was getting hungry again. The cot was set back in the warmest corner of the first floor, complete with a large comforter that was just perfect. I rolled up in it and was away to my normal restless sleep.
I woke to find the gym dark completely dark. fishing for the light switch I found it, and looked to the table quickly.
'Kid, the doors are locked and alarm is set. I let you sleep, you looked tired. You can clean the floor if you want, and raid the fridge for whatever you want. Just be quiet, I'm sleeping.'
I resolved to clean the floor first, since it was my job. Still warm from the trust shown me, I carefully mixed the cleaning solution and started on the ring first. Mr williams trusted me not to rip him off! That was a rarity.
With the rings cleaned and the floor half mopped, I decided to take a break. The time surprised me, it was 1 am. The mini fridge was packed with wrapped sandwiches made specifically for me unless I missed my guess. The energy drinks were nice, and the orange juice carton wasn't even opened.
Well he did say I could have whatever I wanted. I took a sandwich and a glass of juice. Under orders to be quiet I decided to read a few magazines that were lying around while I ate. Most were of course, on boxing. By the time I finished up however, I was tired again. Another sandwich and I decided it was time to sleep again. Not sure what was going on, I even ate well today, no way I should be tired again.
I just felt too run down to clean the kitchen, and Mr. Williams didn't like me cleaning his office. The waves of dizziness started as I lay back, so I just let the sleep come.
******************************************************************************************
"Hey kid, you alright?"
I woke to Mr. williams standing over me, mild concern painting his features. I shook the cobwebs out of my head.
"Yes sir, sorry sir. What time is it?"
"seven kid, opening time."
"Crap, sorry Mr Williams, I didn't get this room clean."
"that's ok kid, you got the rings and the floor, right?"
"Yes."
"More than enough...You can take whatever you want out of the fridge, and hang out if you want. You don't look so good."
I knew that by hanging around I could cost Mr Williams some money; it was too late for a shower, I'd forgotten to take one and clean my clothes yesterday. Too much sleep, and most people didn't like ugly dirty stinky kids hanging around.
"No sir, I better go. I don't want to cause trouble."
"Kid, you don't look right. You sure you won't stay?"
Great, if I looked like I felt it was even worse. Years without getting sick and now this - it felt like that first winter all over again.
"I'm sure sir, wouldn't want to infect your customers."
He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. Then he grew stern, and a bit frightening.
"OK kid, but look, I want you to come back tonight and finish the job. You got me? I don't like a job half finished. You come back and clean this room tonight."
"Yes sir."
I grabbed my payment and bolted before he could make a grab for me; he looked like he just might. Bolting proved the wrong thing
to do however, since as soon as I was outside (and thankfully out of Mr. William's vision) I promptly threw up, losing what little was left of what I ate last night. I was able to keep going using the wall for support. I hoped Mr. Williams didn't follow me outside, he'd certainly be angry about the waste of food.
For now, my spot at the park looked to be my best bet to spend the day; I wasn't feeling up to anything else. It was still early; there weren't many people on the streets. At least not compared to an hour from now; it was too early even for those other people who lived like me. With the right amount of caution I was able to reach my spot unchallenged. And I wasn't followed either, the place was still safe. nothing had been disturbed.
I laid a fire and lit it, then collapsed on my sleeping bag. I just didn't feel up to anything else. Trying to read was pointless, my concentration was shot by wracking pains. At least between the sleeping bag and the fire it was warm. Keeping silent (necessary for remaining unfound) was hard, but I managed by biting my hoodie. And when I felt like screaming, I simply rolled over and screamed through my sleeping bag into the dirt.
*****************************************************************************************
Somehow I must have fallen asleep again; the fire was only coals now, the sun had set. It was getting cold. I did not know how much time had passed, but I would have to hurry in any case to reach Mr. Williams' place by closing. The pain had subsided to a numbing sort of ache, rather than sharp shooting pain, but I still felt them everywhere, and my head felt as if wrapped in marshmallows.
Making it there in time to finish my job would take everything I had, and I'd have to be less careful than normal. Taking the more protected route felt impossible. I managed to get my spot packed up and poured dirt carefully on what fire was left, then set off. I could barely walk, something felt off - and I could hear and feel my bones grinding together with every step.
I wasn't sure what disease I caught, but it was fast acting.
A new thought stopped me. What if it was catching? Perhaps Mr. Williams would be better served by me staying away? I was obviously in trouble, and he didn't need to catch whatever it was I had. I was pretty sure no one deserved to catch what I had. But... he should also be warned! I had this bug this morning, and he was with me. I had also stayed in his place last night. He would need to know to visit a doctor.
Decision made I renewed my steps; even found a bit more energy. He had to be warned, along with his customers and friends. Unfortunately I have the worst luck imaginable. In my haste I ran right into one of those dangers I had luckily avoided earlier. I blame my hazy vision, which only seemed to reach a few feet and was tinted red around the edges.
"Well well well, if it isn't the little fag."
Now most homeless, while in many cases desperate, are decent people. Harry was not one of those people. Street rumors all had him lying, cheating, stealing and assaulting his way to a better life, most of the time to his own down on their luck fellows. He was one of the worst people to run into when you had no protection or people nearby. One of the people I normally watched for. Oh well, nothing to do about it now, I didn't even feel up to running.
"Leave me alone Harry, I'm very sick and it could be contagious."
Before I could do more than blink, I was on the ground, only afterwards registering the 2 vicious punches. One to the kidney, one to the left side of my face. I looked up to see Harry sporting an aloof, almost fatherly sort of look.
"You don't tell me what to do, you piece of shit. though now that I get a good look at you, you don't look at all well. Too bad."
I lost track of the kicks after number 4, but soon after he got bored, ripped my pack from me, and left. I got to my feet, world spinning slowly. If I knew Harry, (and I sort of did), after checking my pack for money he would dump it, to spite me.I had marked
the direction he took, So I went after him at my best invalid speed. The beating didn't even hurt anymore, really, it was all a numb ache now. the only thing that concerned me was how hot I felt. It reminded me of that day I had stayed out on the hottest day of the year, during the fair.
Sure enough, a few alleys down, I found the contents of my pack flung all over the place, and the pack itself was up on a second floor fire escape. Of course, the ladder wasn't pulled down, and there was no way I could jump high enough to pull it down at the moment. Score one for Harry. I gathered up what I could and left it, I'd already wasted too much time.
I amused myself by counting the number of times I found myself on the pavement again (3). A few of those kicks must have hit my head without me noticing. By the time I reached Mr. William's door and pounded on it, my vision was at most a few feet, with a blood coated fog eating the rest of it, bit by bit.
****************************************************************
Devon was worried. In the 6 months he'd known him, the kid was never late, and never stood him up. Something had to have finally happened. So he waited, a bare old bulb providing a grubby circle of illumination before his back door. He waited on his feet, staring blankly at it. At 9:42, just as his feet were beginning to ache a little from standing in one place too long, an insistent but polite knock sounded upon the door. He looked through the peep hole out of habit, and sucked in a breath.
Shooting the bolt and throwing the door open so hard it bounced back into him painfully he leaped to catch the slight, bloody form exposed to the light. Broken lips parted in a slight grin as he eased the boy down.
"sorry I'm late Mr. Williams."
"Damn kid, what the hell happened to you?!?"
Devon slammed the door and shot the bolt before turning to take a look at the damage. Safety first. The kid was in a rough way. The gasping wheezes spoke of broken ribs, one wrist and hand was as grape hued and the size of a small ham... and his face! He eased the kid up again to drag him to the couch, and heard bones grind in the kids leg. Kid was tough though, didn't utter a single sound. His face paled another shade, but the smile stayed plastered on. This close Devon could feel the heat though, an intense burning fire across the kid's skin that he felt would burn him at any moment.
He would need help; a doctor... but who could he call? 911 would report it, and dump the kid into child services as soon as they could. Besides, he didn't trust those emergency room hacks at St. Micheal's, the closest hospital. A few too many friends
that went there for treatment died there for his liking. He dumped the kid on the couch as gently as his rubber knees would allow, taking note the kid was out. Making up his mind to call in that favor owed, he picked up his old phone and dialed.
******************************************************************************************
Sergei Kopov drank his nightly glass of vodka, ending the ritual he had enjoyed the last 10 years of his retirement. He had long since ceased worrying about whether that made him the drunkard his father had been. As was his wont, he reviewed the photos on his mantle, the snapshots of his life between sips. His brief stints at two olympic games, and the faded yellow ringside pictures, each of him and a champion or first rate challenger, taken in packed venues. Usually forgotten names now, like him. He'd even kept the working visa that had allowed him to leave the then U.S.S.R., for what was back then, a much better life.
He was a sentimental fool.
At one time, many knew his name. Sure he wasn't the boxers themselves, those fit athletes given to bludgeoning each other to death. But when a match was set, who else did one call, but Kopov, the greatest fight doctor of his day? Not bad for a peasant from
the Urals. In the days before exhaustive degrees, when doctors did not require 12 years of education to graduate and lists of medicines were not longer than war and peace, a man with only four years of higher education and many years of experience could stitch a face back together with the best of them.
Now of course, ever since his forced retirement for a meager pension, such was no longer the case.
The ritual was almost finished; he'd have to buy a new bottle in the morning. Which was why of course, his phone chose this moment to ring. He hadn't had any phone calls in weeks; not even from telemarketers, and now out of the blue, after he prepared for
bed? He knew it wouldn't be good. Cursing in strangely melodic Russian under his tainted breath, he shuffled his way to the phone.
"Da?"
"Sergei, it's me."
Devon Williams. One of those contenders; standing next to him in photo number 6, the edge of it cracked; he forgot the name of the place, but it was written painstakingly on the back. A lifelong 'friend' of his, who he sometimes played poker with. When he wasn't
busy telling him to piss off, that is. One of the few who stood by him during his fall.
"I need to call in that favor, Sergei."
It wasn't good.
"You call back tomorrow."
"Sergei, don't you dare. This can't wait. Come to my place... and bring your bag."
He knew it; trouble with a capitol T. No telling what Devon had gotten himself into. He sighed and hung up the phone, only having to reach down to grab his small black doctor's case, the one given him by his drunkard of a father. He took a moment to blow the dust from it before grabbing his coat and leaving.
******************************************************************************************
Someone had been in a fight, and for once, it wasn't one of the meatheaded gladiators he was used to seeing, but a young slip of a girl riding the edge of malnutrition. Young, her age was impossible to determine, though the causes for that were fleeting. Her face, bad as it looked, wouldn't even scar after he was done. All in all, the damage was superficial, he'd seen far worse than what was lying limply on the battered puke green couch in Devon's lounge.
Far more worrisome however, was her temperature. his hands could not sit on her skin for long, and his thermometer, an old one filled with mercury and capped with metal, burned his fingers when he retrieved it. there was no cause for it among her injuries, and
he'd seen this once before. Devon hovered nearby, his anxious scowl making those scars of his more visible.
"Ain't no cause for the fever doc, he's really sick. But the emergency room would likely toss her out. I knew I shouldn't have let him go this mornin'."
Sergei blew a sigh, ignoring the somewhat surprising gender revelation. He'd seen that before. He knew how well this would go over.
"You were right to call me, my friend. The hospital, they could not treat this, but I can. I have seen this before."
Once, and his treatment was like all his treatments, cobbled together from homeopathic remedies and guesswork... but his friend did not need to know that. Besides, it had worked. Devon stopped, wringing his hands and ignoring the grotesque pop of his stressed
knuckles.
"You have? What's she got?"
Sergei lit a cigar and started making a list of what he'd need before responding.
"Burnout, my friend; your little friend is a mutant."
(tbc)
Mark Winchester studied the radar print outs again, cursing the small bit of turbulence that shook his hand. After the blasted thing crossed the ocean, it slowed down. this of course made his job harder, as even the best radar technology had problems picking up such a small profile once it's anomalous speed slowed. How the damned thing had even learned to fly, he'd likely never know. There was no doubt however, that this event was the real deal;exactly What he'd trained his life for. Let's see, the last confirmed images projected a line through several major cities as well as several other highly populated areas. It was obvious he'd have his work cut out for him.
The best option was to split his team up, and comb the line he'd just drawn for... incidents. From east to west coast, if need be.
*******************************************************************************************
I was on fire, or at least the front of me was. The rest of my body was somewhat cool. I was certain I was floating, even though my arms and legs seemed to be tied. I felt no pain, just unknown periods of blistering heat followed by intense cold. sometimes I thought I could see light or hear voices. Sometimes I thought I was doing both. Sometimes they almost made sense. But mostly I just floated, a leaf on an unknown current.
*******************************************************************************************
Sergei carefully monitored the homemade I.V. that was currently pumping a nutrient soup of his own devising into the kid. The ice was of course, melting much faster as the day wore on, the heat prompting Devon to make his third trip so far since last night. It was working however; if the I.V. did not clog, and the boy's temperature stayed below 105 he should be alright. A careful dunk of the kids' head under water raised some steam, which was concerning. But too long under and he would start to drown. It was a careful sort of dance.
When he had time, he tried to figure out where the sword sheath had come from. Ancient leather covered in cloth tastefully embroidered in the most magnificent and complex celtic knots, capped on the lower end with steel and the open end with something that felt kind of like rubber, Sergei was fairly sure he hadn't seen it on the kid before he went into Devon's own apartment bath tub. Yet it was plainly here, and had to have been here. The belt was knotted around the boy and the knot seemed to have been superglued... nothing Sergei could do would untie it, or even get the cursed thing to loosen!
He really didn't have the time to give it a good try though; was the boy's face changing? Was he about to suffer GSD on top of burnout? Sergei had been out of the loop for some time, but he'd never heard of a case of burnout this slow that altered the victim in such a way... usually mutation was a much slower process or outright bursting in flames. But then again, bursting into flames was something this kid could do at any moment.
He needed more vodka.
*******************************************************************************************
Chad Simmons knew he wasn't the smartest. His mom had called him "her little Forrest Gump" as a kid... when taking him to school. So of course the other kids heard, and ran with that. The special classes he'd had to attend had not helped his image either.
He hadn't been a complete loser in the genetic lottery however (not that he understood such a concept), having always been a bit on the big side. In high school he made a truly great lineman, when he wasn't riding the bench or ejected from games. He never meant to hurt anyone, he just forgot sometimes that when the whistle sounded the play was over. That and what all the fouls were sometimes.
Who could keep all that straight?
The thing is, he hadn't stopped growing. When he was seventeen they had all said he was too big to play anymore. He had grown a foot a year and put on lots of weight since he was 14, and they said they couldn't have him on the team anymore. Then his mom got mad cause he broke her house, and kicked him out to live at some place called "Cerberus maximum security prison."
But through it all, he kept growing.
The prison wasn't a bad place, they fed him and let him work for them, though he sometimes forgot the stuff he was supposed to do, and the rules he was supposed to follow. It was all the excitement, he was sure. He was a little sad that his mom didn't come see him, but she was 'dead'; he didn't know what that meant, except that she was far away.But then came the accident, and one of the friendly men in blue had gotten hurt. Everyone was just so small now, it was hard for him to keep from hurting them! They had locked him up in a big room, and fed him through a small hole in it. And it was damp and everything smelled like old gym socks.
And still he kept growing.
Then he got sick of it, and wanted to go outside. They really should have built the room better, it gave way the moment he stood. Everyone was a dwarf now, like the wizard of oz people. He did not understand why everyone else did not grow; was there something wrong with them?
It didn't matter; he was out and they would never put him back in the sock smelling room ever. He was going to go find his mom, and not even the metal things... tanks, he knew that word! Not even those would stop him! They were too weak to, in any case. He stepped on one (an accident, it tried to knock him down!) and it flattened like a pancake made of tin foil. Pancakes were good.
He knew from the talk of the friendly blue men some time earlier that his mom had lived in 'Detroit' before she had died, and he lived with her. He also knew from the same talk that 'Detroit' was west... towards the sun when it set. Since the sun was setting now, that was the way he would go. He wanted his mom. His mom made the best pancakes ever.
**********************************
There was some sort of change occuring, after all, and Sergei dutifully wrote it down in his new journal under 'day 2'. Thinning over all, (though that could be a result of not eating and only having an IV to sustain the mutation), altered bones in the face and hips, full blown changes in how the muscles were attached to bone in multiple locations, as well as differences in how they moved and their efficiency; the human race was more variable than most gave it credit for, but this was pushing the boundaries quite far. If this kid was a boy, that is.
Sergei no longer had many doubts about what was happening to the poor kid; What he had mistaken her for at first glance was becoming truth. It was easy to see where he'd made such a mistake before; He only hoped the poor thing could still pass as human by the end of it. He'd seen what happened to the more... exotic looking mutants. The funny shaded hair was bad enough; at least that could be passed off as hair dye.
The fever had cooled to a mere 103 degrees now, and Devon's trips to the local grocery for ice had slowed. He still had to make a few a day (the empty bags were piling up in the corner) but he could teach today, confident that the kid was in good hands. After all, as Sergei knew, as much as he'd close the place down for the kid, money was tight all over.
The real mystery was the sheath. Devon had backtracked the kid's route as best he could, and there was no sword to match it. The knots just slid from their hands, resisting all attempts to untie them. They had tried to cut the cord with surgical scissors, which could easily cut through denim. The cord had resisted; had in fact dulled the scissors, then a knife, then a scalpel, without a single thread of the cord parting.
Sergei knew magic when he saw it, and the very cloth of the thing reeked of it. What he couldn't figure out was why it was there; had the kid found it, belted it on, then it just wouldn't come off? Had they missed it the first time around, as they were manhandling the roasting form into the bath? He didn't think so. Devon might have missed such a detail; he would not have. The only potential good news from it was that it might be the magic causing the kid's mutation. What magic could do, magic could undo... at least he thought so. If you looked hard enough.
The clumping up the stairs and slamming of the heavy steel door announced Devon.
"Ahh, done for the day, finally. Mr. Crawford paid his bill today; the shipping trade must be picking up. Any of that vodka left?"
"Da, a bit."
Sergei was almost certain the only shipping Mr. Crawford did involved drugs, though Sergei didn't have the heart to tell Devon that. His friend needed the money after all. A swig of vodka from the bottle later, and Devon was doing his best to loom. At least it was over the room in general, and not sergei. Sergei hated it when the meatheads, even his friends, tried to loom.
"How is he?"
Sergei managed to keep his wince internal.
"Better. The worst is passed, and by tomorrow all should be over. But Devon, there is something you should know...."
"Ahh, kid looks like a stick in there. I think I'll just go get some ice before the local grocer closes. Maybe some food too; he looks to need it."
Sergei heaved a loud sigh as Devon all but ran from the room. He guessed there would be time to tell him when he got back. Devon had taken one look last night and realized something was wrong, but he immediately thought the worst. Sergei might very well have to drug him to get him to sit still long enough for the reasonably good news. Provided a tail or horns didn't pop up in the mean time, that was.
For some reason, he did not think that would ever happen to this one. A delicate wisp of a thing she was, but something about her inspired confidence, somehow. He could not see that form warping into something unpleasant. Perhaps it was the sheath.
***************************************
Agatha had finally tracked it down... the route that foolish kid used to escape her last time. After one of her precious off hours spent navigating the maze in the library basement, she found a window with a broken lock. The portal was small, but looked just large enough to accomodate a crazy malnourished street kid. It was also the likely way he got past her when coming into the library. Luckily, it opened inward, so she could brace it.
she looked around, flashlight straining to pierce the fetid dark, and spotted an old iron pipe. A dusty piece of trash left behind during the renovations in '52, no doubt. Probably turn of the century trash from the days when places still used steam to heat homes and public buildings. A bit ragged on one end, but it would suffice.
She couldn't quite reach from the floor, but someone (likely the same delinquint she was trying to bar entry to) had stacked some old wooden crates up under the window, so she climbed on those. And not having the feather weight of a street kid, but a rather well fed older woman, she promptly fell through the first crate, the rotted wood giving way.
She came through all right, only a ripped skirt and long scratch down her shin, oozing blood lazily. She frowned at the bigger mess she'd made, and at the window, once again out of comfortable reach. Then her flashlight hit the one thing she could see in
the ruins of the crate; at least, aside from the tiny white insects which she hoped were not termites (those could ruin a library, after all).
It was a book. A very old book. Unless Agatha missed her guess, it was a pre-Gutenburg book. Being very much a librarian of the old school, Agatha had both gone to school and trained herself to read many languages, and recognize still more. What she saw of the cover was Aramaic, but the illustration featuring cavorting people looked Roman. Perhaps it was a copy of an earlier illustration? The cover appeared to be wood, with some sort of glaze or varnish over it, dying it an unusual sort of rust brown. It was large-she picked it up-and heavy, a good twenty five pounds or so. It had many pages. she had never, in all her years,
seen it's like. But what was it doing down here, crated up and forgotten?
Window forgotten (she honestly could not care if a brass band had snuck through in this moment, and taken all the cash in the place) she hugged the book to her chest and hurried back to the stairs. This was quite the mystery, and there was nothing she loved more than a good mystery.
****************************************
It was calling me; something was calling me. A presence without speech, conveying devotion, dedication, love, protection... and mind blowing levels of self confidence or pride. I'm coming, it seemed to say, I'm almost there, and I could feel it getting closer by the second.
Was I dreaming?
I swam back to consciousness literally, finding myself immersed in cold water. My clothes were hopelessly waterlogged. A quick inspection of my hands revealed them to be a bit smaller than normal, and quite pruny. I recognized this bathroom! It belonged to Mr. Williams! I had made it. Furthermore, I didn't feel beaten half to death. Instead I felt a strange lassitude and a faint tingling all over, kind of like an itch, but pleasant. But for some reason I was in the tub with cold water; there were many bags of ice in the corner of the room, and one of those old fashioned IV stands in the opposite corner, with more than a few empty bags hanging from it. There was an empty chair next to the tub.
Great, I'd caused trouble again somehow. I'd have to work for Mr. Williams for at least a week to pay for all of those. I could feel the frown stretch my face as I snagged a towel to dry off. I could also feel something else... my hair? Since When was my hair pink? I pulled a bit and winced. Yep, it was my hair all right. And it was a dark pink, almost red but not quite, like I saw on those carnations in the park last year.
The mirror tempted me, but so did the door, beyond which I could smell something that made me realize my stomach was trying to digest my spine. I wrapped myself in the towel to prevent dripping and shot through the door, and there it was - an entire table full of food, just sitting there. Ham, bread, sandwiches, pancakes, chocolate, in candy and cake form... the wooden table creaked as my fingers dug into it.
Something must have happened, because my normal control was slipping. Food it was, but it wasn't my food. I hadn't worked for it, hadn't earned it, and was already in debt to it's owner enough as it was. Before it could lapse completetly I turned away and looked for my pack. As I spotted it I felt a strange sort of muted thrum, as if I were standing too close to a power transformer (something I had done once and only once) and the lassitude came back. I also felt something else, from that other presence... approval.
I should be terrified that I'm feeling what I'd classify as an outside presence in my head, but I'm not. It feels comforting. There should still be a few hold outs in my pack... oh wait, it had been ransacked before I'd come here. No holdout food in there. I caught sight of a note on the table and realized I was looking at it again and drooling. The note stated clearly from across the room, in dubious penmanship:
"You owe me a week for this. Eat it or it goes to waste - we'll negotiate afterwards. Devon."
Argh, darn it! What to do now? Mr. Williams was threatening to throw the food out if I didn't eat it - I knew he was, he had done it before. And I owed him a week just for the ice alone! The IV meant he had had a doctor see me; I knew the bath trick was to help with high fevers, I read it somewhere. So that meant even more work... and finally the food. It looked like more than I ate in a week.
I was saved any further rumination and recrimination by the explosion.
(tbc)
Devon Williams was taking his time for a much needed breather. The grocery shopping trip was taking longer than expected, but it wasn't every day he tried to shop for a mutant coming down from burn out. Sergei said the kid could snap out of it an time now, the fever was down and life
signs were stable. When he came out of it, he'd be very hungry though.
So even before he left, he had prepared enough food for any five normal people. Which of course meant that now his fridge was empty... which was the purpose of the shopping trip. While Sergei watched for signs of a return to the land of the living, Devon felt he had to try and guess
at what a young teen might like to eat. Potato chips? Nah, he'd never seen the kid eat those when given a choice. Apples instead. Fruit roll ups? Candy? Reese's' peanut butter cups found their way into the cart; peanut butter and chocolate were good energy food.
It was some time before he was done checking out, and he decided not to focus on just how much he was shelling out for junk. He had a suspicion worming it's way through his gut that all the food he'd cooked last night and this morning would be gone by tomorrow, and that this entire cart full would follow before the week was out. Which meant that he would have to play his favorite adult game; bill roulette. Maybe he could get away with no cable bill this month.
It wasn't like he could let the kid starve though. He was a hard kid to wash your hands of, for some reason. He met more than a few street kids; his neighborhood was full of them. Most of them had a tendency to give up, to take the easy way out and just focus on surviving. Something about the kid was different, and he wasn't fully sure what it was. But whatever it was made it impossible for him to just give up on the kid... or himself.
He didn't fear walking home, even with arms laden with bulging sacks. He and the local gang had an understanding, and he was well known in the neighborhood and areas beyond as someone who could still stomp a new mud-hole into pretty much anyone he wanted. The word had gotten around about him taking on that bruiser punk mutant as well, though that fight had been a loss, due to the arrogance of the whiny punk it had been closer than it should have been, and further enhanced his street cred. The bad news was he didn't dare brag or put the word out himself; the inevitable rematch from the pissed off and now much more experienced punk mutant would kill him.
No need to go looking for trouble, when it could easily find you anyway.
Trouble today found Devon on the street a mere three blocks from his home, in the form of an absolutely giant man slamming down from literally nowhere into the busy intersection between him and his home. The man was easily 20 feet if he was an inch, a mountain of muscle dressed in what appeared to be an absolutely huge pair of burlap shorts and nothing else. A face that might have been handsome on a man not so... large, coupled with a complexion befitting an albino vampire, gave the impression that this man had not been in the sun for some time.
That face was currently contorted into an expression of hideous rage, and his booming voice shattered windows as he cried out.
There was a car under one of his feet, flattened to nearly two dimensions. It was bleeding, and Devon did not want to think about what that meant. Then the shock wave hit, knocking him on his ass and shattering every window nearby. Though Devon couldn't hear anything past the ringing
in his ears, he saw the street emptying quickly, the cars and pedestrians either running or dragging themselves away.Rapid pops which could only be gunfire of a singularly high caliber snapped into the concrete or... bounced off the giant. A helicopter gunship of all things buzzed by, barely missing a street sign in an attempt to dodge a massive hand.
"Nooo, I want to go to mom's house! Go away!"
It wouldn't take long for the madness to escalate; the local capes were already no doubt on the way, and from the looks of it the army was already here, though with weaponry that seemed less than effective. Devon doubted they would use anything with more punch than the helicopter
machine guns, but he wouldn't completely discount it. Which meant he needed to get out of here, and fast... but his home was on the other side of ground zero, as was the kid. The unconscious kid.
He wasn't about to drop the groceries, even in a battlefield. Setting the bag straps around his shoulder he turned and sprinted back the way he'd come. With his ears recovering and his back turned, the anxiety was almost too much. But he resisted turning around, it would only slow him
down. There was nothing to be done about the wounded, at least not by him. He would find a phone and call the cops or medics, but chances were they already knew.
He just hoped the helicopters could outrun the expansion of the war zone.
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Major Mark Winchester was tired. He had been on and off planes, and hopping through american cities for 24 hours. First had been old historic Boston, with its crumbling facades and cheerful little war history. Though he wanted to, he could not take the time to sight-see, instead he and his teams scoured the city. When it was obvious a mere four hours later that the target had not landed here, he was immediately back on the chartered jet with all but one of his teams, and en route to New York.
New York took longer, but it also came up empty, the bright lights and cheapened dreams hollow and uninviting. They also did have any good food. So then it was on to Richmond Virginia while the teams split up; his decision, in order to cover more terrain. Currently they were in just now finished with Chicago, and on their way to a wild card, so to speak: Detroit, Michigan. And of course the tea on the flight was abysmal.
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The explosion had rattled the glass in the windows, but hadn't broken them. A mere street over that was not the case, as the glass coating the sidewalks attested. It did however wake me up a bit more, and clue'd me in to the fact that my body wasn't working quite right. My legs weren't
moving correctly, and my hips were forced to move more to compensate. My clothes were baggy in places, yet short. My shoes no longer came close to fitting, being too big. But I was used to too large shoes, so I paid that much no mind. My hair was long. Really long... and looked off somehow. I couldn't quite put it all together, but I knew it didn't matter.
There was a an impression that drove me on, a solid feeling that I could not deny: //Your friend is in danger, You're in danger; what will you do?//
I could not deny that feeling, that voice, any more than I could deny breath. If Mr. Williams was in danger, then I had to help. Any lingering concern over my own problems paled by comparison. Not even the revival of that vaguely unpleasant warm burning sensation I'd felt on waking up would sway me from my course. Though the dimming of my vision was alarming.
The closer I got to the mental image I'd had of Mr. Williams running away from something, the worse the damage became. From just shattered glass to overturned and smashed cars, cracked and sunken pavement... yells and incoherent screaming, and gunshots. There was a guy in the center of the chaos, even larger than the hulk but not green. He was yelling great bellows words I couldn't understand while throwing cars at helicopters and M.C.O. power suits while SWAT cops tried to evacuate the people caught in the crossfire. I flinched as one of the suits got too
close and the man caught it, slamming it down. It skidded to a halt at the corner of a battered auto shop, demolishing the front of it. The suit did not get back up.
Even my reduced vision could pick out the bloody rag dolls strewn all about, and leading back up the street. This man, whoever he was, was hurting people, and hurting people that couldn't possibly have done him any harm, people that he couldn't know. After all, I'd never seen him
around before. I went from seeing very little, to seeing red. The voice/images/sensations started again.
//Call upon me, and we can stop this. If you call, I will answer.//
I knew what that voice wanted, but I had to try it my way first.
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Chad Simmons was having a day that, if anything, was worse than yesterday. It had started out well enough, waking in the mud had been no problem, and none of those annoying people that were trying to get him to go back were anywhere around. He could run fast enough still when he
wanted, and was even faster when he jumped. Jumping was kind of like flying, except you had to come down eventually.
He had made it to the small town he remembered, and walked the streets of his youth. The pointing and screaming had annoyed him at first, but he supposed it was only his reputation as a football hero such reactions and relaxed. They didn't try to stop him anyway.
Then he'd found the cemetery. He knew that's where mom was, cause he'd been told by the judge that was where she was. But it confused him, all that was here were stones with peoples names on them. One of those names turned out to be his mother's. He wasn't sure what that meant, but it angered him. It was just a simple stone, with her name on it, and some numbers. What did it mean? Where was his mother? This whole place was stupid. He took much less care on the way out of the cemetery, kicking over the stupid stones without a care. There wasn't anyone here, so there was no reason to be so careful.
Then the annoying people showed up, and he hadn't had a moment's peace since. He ended up having to jump as far away as he could, ending up in a city he didn't know, with the annoying people dressed in blue, or sometimes green, after him the entire way. They had even started using
choppers! He knew all about those from the war movies he used to watch as a boy, but these were different. They shot something that tickled, though when other people got hit they laid down. He supposed it was a game after all, since they didn't seem too interested in hurting him.
But they just wouldn't go away, and he started to get mad; they followed him even after he jumped again, so he started doing what he knew how when confronted by annoying people; he threw things. The cars were so light he had no trouble; though he hadn't hit one of the choppers yet, they were keeping their distance. The people in bright shiny suits though... they wanted to play football!
There were five of them in all, all different. All were smaller, though two were taller than the rest, one thin, and one just bulky. There were two small ones, barely over people size, and one just a bit bigger than they. All of them had pods and other things on their shoulders, backs or heads that he didn't know the use for. But they were robots, and they wanted to play football!
He knew they wanted to play football as the biggest one tried to tackle him. He found out they knew different rules to the game when one of the smaller ones zipped up and started tickling him, the other on his other side trying to deploy some sort of net that wouldn't even cover his foot, but made it itch for some reason. The really small one just sort of stood off to the side, so he figured that one might be the referee. The large one was trying it's best to knock him down, so he just tackled it himself, then threw a car at the one trying to trip him. Such tactics were dirty in football, he didn't care what rule book these guys read!
He felt kind of bad about the little one; the bigger one got up easily, but the little one was spitting sparks and making a rather bad grinding sound. The medium sized one shot some sort of goo all over him, and then the large one slammed into him again, knocking him down. Angry, he decided to show him why he was the star rusher for his old team. Another car to the goo spitter, and then a good punch to the large one, and both were down, sporting large dents and spitting sparks like their friend.
He hadn't taken 3 steps before some guy in his pajamas flew down from the sky and hit him. The guy couldn't have come up to his knee, even the robots were larger. He never before met someone so willing to fight with someone bigger than him; everyone who tried that at school he made sure to put them down. Then this guy... even the football playing robots weren't as stupid. So he punched him, as hard as he could. The guy didn't get up. Satisfied, he walked some more, randomly. The robots did not seem to want to play again. But now the choppers were coming back in....
And he heard it clearly through the massive din of pinging things and explosions. A girl's voice, clear as a bell and almost like verbal candy, the bars from the other planet that his mother sometimes bought him when he was being good. He turned, because he hadn't clearly heard
another persons voice since he got really big, and beheld a girl in ragged clothes a size too big for her, with cruddy pink hair and a face like an angel... bearing an expression that reminded him of his mom, when he did bad things. She repeated herself, probably because he was staring.
"Excuse me, but could you please stop?"
She was really polite. If she wasn't so tiny, she'd make a great girlfriend! She was just THERE, easy to see. More there than anything else. But still, there was no way.
"They started it!"
"Excuse me?"
She could pull off that look really well, whatever it was.
"They started it, I was just walking along here like this."
He demonstrated, walking towards her, only kicking a few things that happened to be in the way. The stupid car he stubbed his toe on just barely missed her, and he was glad. He didn't want to hurt anyone. She wobbled a bit, and he was about to ask her if she felt OK, when she spoke again.
"I... see. Well then I'm sorry, but we must fight."
She held out her hand just as her words registered, and a piece of sun came flying down, tumbling, right into her hand. It was a sword, he saw. But it was tiny, as she was. He felt a pang of something, but squished it. He wanted to know where his mom was, to see her, and she turned out
to be just another person to get in the way. Well he wouldn't let her, and that tiny toothpick wouldn't stop him! He threw a car, hard as he could this time, to make her go to the hospital.
And watched, mouth open, as she split it in half with the sword, the twin pieces flying to either side. How could she do that? None of it touched her! She was stronger than she looked! He recovered as she nodded firmly once to nothing at all, then threw the sword, sunlight bouncing off
the blade in a pretty way as it arced....
He grinned, she had missed, it was going to go over his head! He gathered himself to charge... then she vanished in a flash, appearing over his head with her hand on the sword as it arced down, right toward him!
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The stroke split the giant (fomori, a voice whispered) in half, perfectly centered, as my stroke against the car was. The blade sang liquid caresses into my mind as both halves wobbled and fell with an earth shattering crash. To my left, Mr. Williams came rushing towards me; I had seen him as I made my plea to the giant, and known he was in the path of danger, as was his home, less than a block away from this rampage. I couldn't stop the bile that flowed from my abused stomach; I had just killed a man. I was a murderer. And I had killed him for being too stupid to understand he was doing wrong. I had seen in his eyes, in his responses, that he had no idea how many people he just killed. And who knew how many he killed before he met me.
But I had killed him, and done it because I was unsure I could subdue him, and unsure if he could be kept if captured. Just to my left, the lifeless form of Captain Killjoy, the buzz-kill of villains everywhere, seemed to attest to my action being the correct one. Anyone that could kill a tank of a hero like that (one of Detroit's better capes, or at least he was) was not someone I should be tangling with at all. And yet...
"You OK kid?"
What an inane thing to ask me; but I appreciated him for trying.
"I just killed a person, Mr. Williams."
My stomach knotted in on itself again, and my vision went gray.
"Come on, the cops aren't here yet, let's get you out of here."
"But, I should stay and tell them what happened!"
It was self defense, after all. Even if I had gone looking for the fight. There was no doubt the giant was using lethal force. All those people strewn about like so much refuse....
"Maybe, but the M.C.O. was here too, and I'd rather not test your luck, eh? We can tell the cops later if we need to.Now come on, you're going to have to grab on, I'm not leaving the groceries."
I nodded, or tried to; I wasn't sure I managed. Mr William was very strong, he dragged both me and the groceries very quickly through the alley to his back door. The same one I remember dragging myself to, it seemed to me, only hours ago. I vaguely wondered how long I had been out, then my mind sort of swam as I was pulled up the stairs. A gentle slap brought me back.
"You idiot! Eat, you haven't eaten for a week and you were very sick. No wonder you're out on your feet."
"But...."
"don't you but me, kid. You eat it; or I'll throw it out. Besides, you don't owe me a thing, that monster was headed right for the gym, and he would have done a lot of damage around here. You saved my life, and my business. So you earned it. And don't give me that look, I say you earned
it so you did."
I felt myself nodding; I wanted to argue that I would have done it anyway, food or not, because it was the right thing to do, but I was too tired and hungry to argue. So I started with the waffles. As soon as I swallowed the first one, some of that burn I had been feeling since I woke up eased. I slowed down, staring at the blade now sheathed in the scabbard at my hip, the same one I had woken up with. I vaguely remembered cleaning and sheathing it before I vomited that disgusting liquid in my stomach, but it was an unconscious act; it had just felt right to do. Even now, it
felt right having it by my side, as if it belonged there and had in fact always been there.
I wanted to believe that somehow Mr. Williams had found a magic sword somehow, and gave it to me, but that didn't sound right. I knew the images/thoughts I had been received had come from it, and it had come a long way to meet and help me. It had told me it's name was X, and that it
was powerful. I knew it was magical. I knew somehow, that it wasn't cursed, but would not let anyone else wield it.
"So, um... where did that come from?"
Mr. Williams had caught me looking.
"Not sure Mr. Williams, it's (his, the voice/images whispered) sheath was on me when I woke up, and he came when I needed him. I couldn't have won without him."
Ugh, my stomach was queasy again. More images/thoughts of comfort were sent. I should be alarmed that something magical seemed to have direct access to my brain, but I couldn't bring myself to be; I knew X meant me no harm.
"Weird, the sheath was on you since that first night, but there was no sword to be found."
"He sent it ahead."
I replied with conviction; I knew that the sheath had been sent ahead, and knew it had been sent ahead because X had feared for my life, and didn't want me to die before he met me.
"So it's magic then."
I paused, my 6th waffle finished off while I nodded. I started in on the apples, which for some reason sounded really good to me.
"It and the sheath? The sheath is supposed to protect you?"
I nodded again. That feeling was starting to retreat faster now, my mind clearing. With that withdrawal certain other sensations were letting themselves be known. Like how I was tromping through Mr. William's house, sitting at his table, and I was filthy. Literally covered in some sort
of crud, dirt, and most importantly... blood.
And how the body currently covered in filth did not feel right at all. That feeling was getting worse moment by moment. I drained a glass of juice, for I was very thirsty, and stood. Mr. Williams got angry immediately.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm sorry Mr. Williams, I've been messing up your house; with your permission I'd like to take a quick shower. I won't be too long, I swear."
He looked at me, and his face softened.
"It's Devon kid, and take all the time you need. The food will be waiting. For just this once, don't worry about the mess; you can clean it up later."
Snagging an apple on my way with an apologetic glance, I made my way to the bathroom. I had to drain the tub, and pull the ice bags out, so I did. There was a film on the bottom I didn't want to think about, but the tub itself wasn't too dirty. At least, not dirty enough for me to care. My clothes felt scratchy, seeming to get stiff and tighter suddenly. They were a complete loss, so I rolled them up and threw them in the small wastebasket near the sink.
Which revealed a slight problem.
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Devon had just sat back down, coffee and bagel in hand, to relax after the crazy day when the kid's new voice came from the bathroom. Even muffled as it was, it was clear and... pure? He idly hoped it wasn't some sort of crazy mind control mutation or something, that would ruin it.
"Mr. Williams?"
"It's Devon kid, what's the matter, need help?"
He hadn't heard the kid fall or anything, and the kid knew where the soap and shampoo were.
"It's um, well...."
The confusion and embarrassment were as clear as the voice; the door was no barrier.
"Spit it out, kid."
"Well, remember how I said I was a boy? I think I might have lied somehow, and I'm really sorry!"
....Wait, what? What?
(TBC)
It happened as they were walking to lunch. A moment Chaka would never forget. She and Fey were walking side by side. This in itself was not unusual. Fey stiffened with a slight gasp, and Chaka spotted the entity she loved to tweak overriding her friend's control. Usually such a thing preceded a pearl of wisdom or a warning from the old queen of the west.
What was unusual was to hear those refined and vaguely unearthly tones clearly utter something even the host was not want to say on her own. Eyes wide and breathing on the verge of hyperventilation.
“Oh. Oh, shit.”
…......................................................................
“Alright let's start over. Do you have a penis?”
Just one of the many questions I thought I'd never hear, let alone get asked. But Mr. Williams was always rather blunt. I checked again, to make sure. Nothing but a strangely neat slit, a line where something more used to rest. This was pretty embarrassing. Where could it even go? I wasn't cut or anything. I was pretty sure both kidneys were there.
That doctor didn't fill me with confidence, but he had saved my life. As Mr. Williams friend, I doubted he would do anything to me anyway.
As unclear as the differences between boys and girls were to me, I knew a little. Boys peed standing up, and girls did not.
“Um, no? I had one before!”
I peed standing up before, but there was no way that could work now. Did boys turn into girls past a certain age? But if they did, wouldn't Mr. Williams be a girl? And the other male adults I met? The only other answer had to be that I wasn't normal.
I felt like this was the sort of thing I might have learned about in school. But then again Mr. Williams didn't seem to know either. I was a bit too afraid to ask. After all, here I was causing trouble again.
Worse, I wasn't sure how I could fix it. My hand, twitched towards X. Maybe it (he) knew what was going on?
But then again, wouldn't owing a favor to an honest to goodness magical sword be worse than owing Mr. Williams, or even his friends? Did I dare?
I wasn't happy with how shaky my hands were. I was also having trouble keeping my knees locked. I needed to hurry before I caused even more trouble. Why was I so weak now? I was doing fine earlier... or was I? I hadn't been thinking too clearly earlier. I wasn't sure I was now, but I was doing better than before the fight.
Before I killed that man.
I would need to go to the police and soon. A banging on the door startled me out of the images of blood and the terrible feeling of boundless confidence.
“You alright in there kid?”
“Um, yes sir.”
I was clean, and dry, but I'd forgotten clothes. Mr. Williams had a robe hanging from a hook on the door, so I borrowed that. The bathroom was even messier than it had been when I entered. I wanted to clean it but I was now so hungry, tired, and weak I could barely lift X on my way out.
As soon as I did however, I felt better. X was doing that? The sense came back immediately – not true speech, but a series of feelings and images that I somehow equated with words. X was telling me his sheath was responsible, and that I should keep it tied on.
So I used it in place of the robes belt (which was missing) to cinch the robe shut and opened the door before Mr. Williams could get really mad. He was outside leaning up against the wall with his friend, both of them whispering furiously. They stopped as soon as I appeared.
“Sorry Mr. Williams, it's even worse than before.”
The doctor turned to Mr. Williams and said in a dry voice:
“Congratulations, is girl.”
I was mildly insulted. I wasn't stupid, I knew what the difference was! I mean, it took a really fat guy to have a chest like this, or somewhat like this... I don't think they stood up or out this much on guys. Or even most girls. where women could have them all the time.
On the other hand, the peeing standing up was gone. There was nothing to aim anymore. I hoped I could find out what happened there. At least I could still pee; I was pretty sure not being able to at all would be serious, and require money to fix. And I wouldn't tell Mr. Williams just what I was bleaching in his tub. Not that he should be able to tell, with all the other crap I was responsible for in there.
Mr. Williams took a look inside the bathroom and winced, but turned back to me with thumbs up.
“It's OK kid. I'm not too worried about that. Just go eat; you've got to be starving.. Don't make me throw out the food.”
“Yes, sir.”
His reproach behind me was clear.
“And it's Devon kid, Devon.”
“Yes sir, Devon.”
I'd normally argue, but I wanted pancakes and I wasn't sure how long I could stand. That and I really wanted those pancakes. It'd been years since I had any, and if no one else wanted them then they were fair game.
I was into my fourth pancake, and starting to realize I was eating like a starving wolf when Mr. Williams – Devon - came back. He settled in to eat himself. The groceries he'd brought back were missing from the corner; he must have put them up while I was showering.
My pack was where I'd left it, still half open. I tried to remember, but I think I was now out of spare clothes. At least ones I could still wear without getting arrested for public indecency. I guess it would make it easier to go to the police....
“Alright, I've got another few friends to call. One is a lawyer friend of mine. He will help us figure out what to do now about the cops. The other is a mutant friend of mine, who will help us figure out what to do now about getting you some help.”
“So, I'm a mutant?”
He stayed silent so long that it drew my attention away from the pancakes.
“Yes kid, you're a mutant. Boys don't normally just become girls all of a sudden, and girls don't just manage to jump 15 feet and cut through giants that the army can't bring down.”
That almost ruined my appetite.
“Look sorry for the reminder kid, but no, you're not normal.”
Well there went that vain hope. It was going to be hard to avoid the notice of my fellow street punks now. They always seemed to either treat girls better or treat them worse... but they never ignored them. I wasn't sure what sort of attention I'd get, but I'd have to work twice as hard to hide now.
“You should have brushed your hair. Hmm... OK kid, you stay here. Eat as much as you want. I got to make those calls. We will get all this sorted out, no problem.”
I wasn't really worried. I was doomed, and what will happen will happen. Here I was worrying about how I'd be treated when I'd likely spend the next 20 to life in a cell. Self defense or not, if there was a chance to throw the book at me, they would. Street people were hated; it was a universal constant.
More than a few of my old friends were currently in jail of juvenile hall for various offenses. While I was sure a few of them were guilty, I doubted they all were. And they were all there for less reason than I had.
I had ended a human life. Whether it was the right thing to do or not, I had ended a human life.
Comforting waves of love, approval, and other more complex emotions flowed from X to me. He knew I'd saved lives today, and appreciated it. He would, even if no one else would. The cops would try to take him away... but he wouldn't go. His comforting presence would stay with me my entire sentence, for however long that was. It felt like a warm blanket on a cold winter's day.
That and my stomach (now full) was contributing to a more real feeling of warmth. I stifled a yawn with my now free hand. I was so tired all of a sudden. I fought the urge to just slide, boneless, off the chair to the floor. I barely made it to the couch, which was only a few feet away.
I was a little cold with just the robe, but not enough to move or care.
I looked up to see the doctor friend of Mr. Williams staring down at me, absently chewing on a boiled egg. It looked good, perhaps I should have tried those. It occurred to me I didn't know his name.
“Sir?”
“You can call me Dr. Sergei. Everyone else does. How do you feel, eh?”
“Very tired sir.”
I tried to keep my eyes open. It was so hard just to open them. My body felt as if it were made of lead; like I was one of the park statues.
I did manage to open them again briefly when I felt a comforter fall against my body. It's weight adding to my warmth again almost immediately. It's weight was the final blow to my eyes; as if it were also over my face and holding my eyes shut. A slight struggle to move and the battle was completely lost.
….........................................................................
Devon Williams hit the stairs before the call to his lawyer went through. Arnold Edison was both a business lawyer (focusing on incorporating businesses and tax law) and a defense attorney. He had done more than a few stints as a public defender, which was where they met.
That incident was what led Devon to stop drinking; at least at bars. He was good enough to get an acquittal in a slam dunk case; boxer or not, 3 on 1 was considered self defense, and they weren't even permanently hurt. Since then he had been acting as Arnold's personal trainer, for over 10 years.
It hadn't helped; he was still the pasty overweight jolly fat man Devon remembered, just with a few more lines on him. He just lacked motivation, and slacked whenever he could. Like now, it'd been a good six months since the last time h stepped into the gym.
But while he wasn't consistent, he always showed, and never paid when he did. They both knew Devon wanted a lawyer on retainer, knew Arnold was the best he could get, and knew Devon couldn't really pay Arnold's fee normally. Arnold played along to the favor for a favor idea without admitting as much; even accepting the offers to socialize on rare occasions.
The call for mid day was unusual; and Devon knew Arnold would know immediately what that meant.
“Bark at me, big dog! You alright?”
Good, he answered personally, not his secretary.
“Yeah I'm good. I wasn't hurt, and the Gym is untouched. I assume you heard what happened?”
The voice was bluff, with no trace of any concern that Devon was sure was there. That was just the type of guy big Arnie was.
“Yeah, news has your area looking like a war zone; all we need is the sand and we could shoot a movie there.”
Devon could hear the question: 'the included area has your gym in it, how is it untouched and what does this have to do with me?' Arnold always faintly un-nerved him with his brain; he always seemed able to make those crazy leaps in intuition that TV lawyers could just before they unmasked the villain.
“Look, I know it's after lunch and all, and you likely have all kinds of business going on, but can you come over? I'd rather not say why on the phone, but it directly involves the events that just took place a bit ago, and I could use your help.”
That was key to dealing with Arnold – appeal to his curiosity.
“Well I do have a few appointments, but in light of recent events I can reschedule them. I'll just claim a family emergency; that's believable enough.”
Big Arnie didn't have any family, he was a lifetime bachelor. He always joked that his clients were his family. No doubt the appointments he was rescheduling would get the joke. It was very likely they would even laugh along and allow it. Devon had, more than once.
“Roads are still blocked, but I'll find a way. Be there inside an hour.”
Never one for pleasantries, Devon just muttered thanks and hung up.
In his hurry to deal with other things, he hadn't been able to take full stock of who was in today. It turned out that it was Bill Reynolds, who wasted no time running up.
Bill Reynolds (please, call me biff) was one of those guys that wasn't quite bleach blond enough, and wasn't quite buff enough to pull of the California surfer boy look. That didn't stop him from trying. He even owned a surf board, though he never vacationed anywhere with a real wave beach. He was dumber than a box of rocks... but he could motivate people to train, and that as enough to earn him a job.
“Boss, you seen what's going on outside? What happened?”
“Just the national guard stopping a dangerous mutant.”
Devon winced internally. True or not it was a bad choice of words and he knew it the moment they escaped. Bill 'call me Biff' would have the rumor spread from here to Istanbul before nightfall.
“A mutant huh? Not good. They got him? It's safe now?”
Devon ruthlessly suppressed the image of a giant split in half by the little slip of a thing upstairs; blood and gore bathing her in an awful shower.
“Yeah it's safe now. Well sort of. The guard did drop some bombs or missiles or something, and some of them might have been duds. Also I'm not sure all the buildings starting a block away are stable. My advice is if you're heading out for lunch or something, head the opposite direction. I doubt you'll be able to get past the police cordon anyway.”
That had been set up in a hurry; he almost hadn't gotten the kid out in time. While one more set of injured civilians might not have been worth noticing, that blasted sword might have. Plus the cops might have wanted them to get emergency care, and that could have led to some awkward questions.
“Well I was thinking of a late lunch. There isn't anything in the vending machines, and the power is out anyway.”
Not one word about his mother, who while she lived far enough away, might still have been hurt in this mess. Just his stomach.
“Yeah, go ahead. Before you do though, anyone in the Gym?”
“Well we had a few people run in, you know, taking cover. But when the sounds increased and the crunching began, they lit out. The only one here now is Liza. She's in the back, waiting for the all clear.”
In the back meant the ladies' room. The one room safe from Biff's advances, once he decided to get going, pouring on that false California charm. Liza was likely too nervous about what was going on to deck him again, and so she hid. Not that Devon blamed her; the ladies room was probably the safest spot in the building from a rampaging giant mutant guy.
And Liza wasn't the absolute best person for what he needed next, but she was close. A true force of nature. More importantly though she was trustworthy, had no relatives to worry about, and lived in apartment on the other side of town. She came to this Gym because her dad had been one of Devon's biggest fans, and he tried to do right by her.
Devon knocked politely.
“Liza, you OK in there? It's safe to come out, the cops gave the all clear 15 minutes ago.”
The door opened almost before he finished the sentence.
“It's safe? That jackass said he would check, that was a good twenty minutes ago. So it's all clear?”
That sounded just like the idiot.
“Yeah, police gave us the all clear. I saw your car, it's fine, still parked out back. Got some dust on it though.”
Her car was some little Korean hatchback he didn't know the name of... but she was fond of it, and he wanted to stop her from running out on him before he could ask the embarrassing questions he needed to.
“Look, I was out in it, right? I made it out, but I also had to save someone; a girl. Well she made it out OK, or mostly so... but her clothes didn't. Could you do me a favor and get her some? Hand me downs would be great; no need to go new or anything.”
His wallet was already hurting from the food. He didn't need any more expenses... but he would pay if he had to. She had saved his life.
Liza looked at Devon with a hint of suspicion.
“Why don't I just go check on her and see what she needs. Your place open?”
“Yeah it is; I have Sergei seeing to her now. I didn't trust the first responders. Sure you need to go up there though?”
If anything that just annoyed her more, and she stormed away.
“I don't trust that old fight hack, either. And yeah I need to see her first hand, judge her sizes, make sure you two aren't doing something hinky.”
“Well who better to know about possible concussions than a fight doc? He's seen a million of 'em!”
The lies kept piling up, but that should keep her from wondering about any strange thing the kid might say while stuffing his... her face.
A quick glance as he rushed in between the rings of the main hall showed the door closed at least; Biff managed to do that much. Devon doubted he needed to close up completely, but better to be safe than sorry. He took the detour and locked up. Biff had a key after all, as did more than a few of his regulars, and some of his equipment was expensive.
He was only mid way up the staircase again (he was getting too old for this crap) when her not so dulcet tones wafted back to him.
“Oh for the love of... just a robe? Nothing else survived? And what's with the sword?”
He managed to get up the stairs again. Liza was hunched over his couch, staring at the sleeping pink haired beauty ensconced within. She had removed the comforter from her; it was his comforter, from his bed. Apparently Sergei had been busy. She was peacefully sleeping away despite Liza's strident nature.
“You're welcome to check her clothes out if you don't believe me. They are in that plastic bag over there. I let her use my shower, and now she's apparently conked out. She got clipped by some pavement the giant threw. Sergei?”
“Standard results from shock and wounds, nothing serious. I will keep eye on her to make sure.”
Liza grilled him.
“You sure Sergei? She can sleep with her concussion?”
He didn't miss a beat.
“Sure. I will keep watch.”
“Right. OK, she looks about a size 5 or 6... damn, is she a model or something? Come to think of it, she looks familiar. About 5 foot 6, so that kind of leaves out a well known model at least, they all need to be taller... wait!”
She rounded on Devon so fast he was surprised she didn't spin like a top a few extra times.
“Is this the kid you keep around to clean the place?”
He nodded.
“Wow, she cleans up well. That was some growth spurt she had.”
She made a point of noticing the food on the table.
“You've been feeding her better than I thought too. What's really going on here?”
Devon made a point of stepping back, hands behind his back. The relief he felt when she mistook the kid for a girl in the past was something he very carefully did not show. A quick glance revealed the truth; for all that it had been an issue in doubt before, there was absolutely no doubt now. She could be wrapped in that comforter to her face, and it would be just as obvious.
“Hey, it's not like that! She just helps me clean the place and I try to do right be her, that's all. I saw her get hurt, and brought her back here in order to recover; you know how I am.”
She silently conceded the point, and placed the covers back under the new girl's chin.
“Alright, I'll be right back. I won't knock or announce myself... I'll just come up.”
The message of 'if you're doing anything bad here to her, I'll catch you at it' was received loud and clear. Devon didn't take offense, knowing that it was aimed mostly at Sergei, who she didn't trust or respect. Besides, that was just how Liza was.
“By the way, what's the kid's name? I never got it before.”
Now that question put Devon in a bind. He knew the kid's real name, but it wouldn't do to call him... her by it; it would make Liza question his sanity. So as he looked at the cascade of pale pink hair floating around the kid he said the first thing that came to his mind.
“Rose. Rose Campbell.”
“Rose huh? Pretty name. Alright, I'll be right back with clothes for Rose.”
And she left in complete silence, proving that she could navigate his place as well as he could.
“That woman... does not trust me.”
Devon never got why Sergei felt the urge to state the obvious occasionally. Perhaps that was the reason why Liza hated him? Or well, one of the reasons. With a shrug, Devon sat down, motioning Sergei to do the same.
No sense letting the food go to waste, after all.
It was one of those rare uneventful days when nothing much was going on. Even more rare for Whateley Academy than most of the world, a time without ninjas, jumped up panty thieving monkeys, or international criminals visiting was a time to be savored. All in all, a perfect day to relax... except Toni had heard the erstwhile Queen of the West curse. That alone was enough to set her on edge, and compelled her to keep an eye out.
So when she vanished after classes, just flat out faded from sight entirely as soon as her last class of the day ended, Toni knew. What she didn't know, was where to find her. Hours of searching the campus turned up nothing, and Toni was beginning to get worried. She needed reinforcements.
Poe cottage was almost eerily calm for a change, further setting her on edge as she made her way to the wing she shared with her team. Perhaps Ayla knew where to find Fey.
As she passed the room she shared with elf royalty, she noticed the light was on through the crack at the bottom of the door. She could have left the light on this morning, but....
She opened the door and was immediately hit with a smell that would put a distillery to shame. A large one. There were two empty bottles of something on the floor, and a very smashed redhead slumped on her bed.
“Another bottle, Koehenes.”
“Are you quite certain, your majesty? It seems....”
“I am certain, Koehenes. Another bottle. Now, if you please.”
The little annoyance scampered off, cowed by the hint of steel in the redhead's tone. There was no doubt which who was in control of her body at the moment; Aunghadhail, the genteel and refined noble, was drunk off her butt. Toni shut the door.
“Please, sit. I shall share with you a tale of woe.”
The effort required to smother her normal snark had to show on her face, but Aunghadhail wasn't looking. Toni stayed silent, not wanting to fight off a few hundred conjured nasties. Koehenes returned, bearing another bottle, and Aunghadhail held out her glass and started.
“It started as a joke. A practical joke on a tribe of unwashed monkeys that were beginning to build their first mud huts together. An artificer, whose name has since been scrubbed from our histories, decided on a novel response to the cries for knowledge and power the species screamed into the winds; he decided to make them prove they were worthy.”
She emptied the glass with a noisy gulp, holding it out again. Toni watched, transfixed, as it was refilled.
“So he built a sword, a glittering symbol of power for the barely evolved masses. This sword was to be a symbol of favor and a badge of office. As such only the most enlightened of the monkeys were to have a hope of wielding it.
Well he worked for decades... and he succeeded. He succeeded far too well. He made a sword far more powerful than it needed to be; the most powerful sword on record in fact, for any culture or people. And he made it intelligent, may his soul be cursed for all eternity.”
Toni had never seen this before; the normally unflappable Aunghadhail was shaken to her very core.
“Is Nikki alright?”
The redhead nodded sharply.
“My host is perfectly fine; she was gracious enough to allow me this time to... recover myself. She is in turn being buffered against my own acts. At any rate, to continue:
The sword was intelligent, with an ideal of what an intelligent being should be. An ideal comprised of all that was considered just and good in the world; an ideal that not even my people could live up to. Imagine the artificer's surprise when none could draw the blade from the stone he had forged it from. Not even he, the creator of it.”
She turned to Toni, eyes gleaming.
“You see, the intent was to allow the lowly humans to try to draw the blade... and fail. Then an elf would step forward, the creator of course, and draw the blade with ease. A way to show the humans their proper place, and a fine joke indeed.”
Another expensive looking drink gulped down in a blink.
“Only the blade would not co-operate. It would not be treated as a joke, did not like the idea of its existence being used to mock, and it would only offer itself to someone worthy. No human nor elf was considered such, and there the issue might have been settled.
However, centuries later, a certain crafty human created a human worthy. When the true purpose of the sword had long since passed into memory, and even the yearly gathering around the stone had become a carnival affair and the offer for help that had once been extended was no longer needed, a mage raised a child to be a soul so white that the sword would respond, as an experiment. That human later became a king; I met him once, he was one of the gifted of your kind, much as you are... he was formidable, and the blade made him more so.”
Another gulp and the goblet was dutifully filled yet again by a now clearly worried Koehenes. Toni's best guess was that it wouldn't be long now before the potent liquor finished its' work. Somehow she doubted it was coincidence that everyone else had stayed away so far. She had enough sense to stay silent, swallowing the many questions that rose.
“Contrary to popular historical belief, that king did not fall to a rival army alone. He fell when facing an evil from the timeless depths beyond space. You, of course, know of the ones I speak, though I dare not name them outright. Great kingdoms were being ground to so much dust around this world, and civilizations were falling like shorn wheat. He defended all who came to him, fought aside all who asked. Human and elf alike, who sought his protection from the coming dark... and he fell when the sword, that twisted idea gone awry, deserted him in his, and our, greatest need.”
Another drink and the latest bottle was empty. Aunghadhail contemplated the empty goblet a moment before throwing it aside; Koehenes made a beautiful diving catch to save it. Toni grinned inwardly while digesting the fact that the mighty sword of legend, Excalibur, had been made as a joke to rub human faces in elven superiority. And that it had backfired spectacularly. It had to be Excalibur; no other legendary sword she knew fit. And since coming to Whateley, she had learned her sword legends. She waved her hand at the mess in the room.
“An interesting tale to be sure, but what does it have to do with... this?”
Aunghadhail crossed the room in a flash; Toni could have dodged, but chose not to, and caught her instead to keep her from face planting. After all, Nikki would not be happy if she came back to a swelled nose. The one time Queen of the West hissed in her ear:
“Were you not listening? The sword is awake! It is active and moving again! It would only do so if it felt it were needed, and one worthy of wielding it were at hand! But since the first choice, only those of that man's line would be considered... and then there is the power involved.....”
“Power?”
The redhead all but shouted now, voice hoarse suddenly.
“Yes, power! The sword gets stronger the more age it gathers! I shudder to think what it is capable of now! It was capable of feats of magic rivaled only by the strongest of mages centuries ago! I grow cold thinking of the destruction it could wreak now!”
Now the picture was clear, and the panic as infectious as the flu.
“So what do we do? How do we find it? We need the team for this!”
Aunghadhail stopped her before she opened the door, by the simple expedient of collapsing on her.
“No! We dare not, the thing might take offense! If it feels it is needed, it would be most difficult to stop... and we may not like the result if we manage the feat. It has had centuries to act in the world again, should it have been inclined. It has chosen now. No, we must be wary, but cautious.”
“So why tell me?”
“Simple really. Now someone other than myself knows. Not even my host knows the full story; now should humans need to act, you will be able to inform those who are best suited to do so. That and... I needed someone to talk to about the ghosts of the past. You should think twice however about getting my host and your friends involved however. And then think it over a third time; dealing with that artifact of a bygone era would be most difficult.”
“...Right.”
The redhead patted her face clumsily.
“Now now, do not be that way. Your team does not need to be involved in every great happening in the world. In fact it might be better for all concerned if they were not.”
Then she keeled over in a dead faint. Koehenes wrung his tiny hands.
“Relax, I'll help.”
And Toni put the body of one of her best friends to bed.
The mess however, that was koehenes's problem. She had things to think about.
….............................
I stretched before fully awake, comfortable and warm, yet squished. My legs had kept hitting something when I tried to stretch them out, and that woke me up. I opened my eyes to find Sergei, Devon, Liz, and some large man I didn't know all staring at me.
“Umm... hi?”
Way to go, Campbell. You sounded like an idiot. A high voiced idiot.
“Good evening, Rose.”
The stress Devon gave the word told me he was saying a name. His gaze made me think he wanted it to be my name. I'd played such games before, but I wouldn't lie. If asked I'd tell the truth about who I was. Why did he want me to lie? Maybe he was worried about the name thing; girls didn't have boy names after all. I couldn't see why that would pose a problem yet, but Devon had to have a reason. But I'd still tell the truth if asked; to do otherwise was just... unthinkable.
Liz, a friend of Devons I knew by reputation (she was scary) all but jumped on me.
“You O.K.? You feel any pain anywhere? Any stiffness? How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I feel fine, no pain or stiffness. And you're holding up three fingers. How long was I asleep?”
I didn't really want to get up, not in front of so many people. My new body was embarrassing. But Liz was scary, and pulling on me.
“Come on, let's get you dressed.”
She pulled me off the couch bodily, I barely avoided getting tangled in the comforter and taking us both down.
“Um, Liz, I'm fine, I can dress myself!”
I didn't want her to see. What if I wasn't really a girl somehow? What if something was different? Would she freak out or something? I mean normal girls couldn't... do the things I had done. Could they? If they could why were some of them getting beat up or going off in cars with guys they didn't know for money or the other stuff I'd seen them do?
“Alright, strip.”
Startled, I realized we had made it to the bathroom and I was now locked inside with Liz. A Liz who was holding a small plastic shopping bag. I had no doubt that if Liz could jump or run as fast as I had after becoming a girl, she would already be doing it.
I stripped, pulling the knot on the sheath and carefully catching X. I propped him up in the corner and shucked the robe, wincing at the mess still around me. I really needed to get to work on this before Devon fired me or something.
“Damn, girl. It's only been a couple weeks since I saw you last! That was some growth spurt you hit. I could almost be jealous. What possessed you to dye your hair pink though?”
Girl underwear was thrust under my nose. Matching hot pink girl underwear. I put the bottoms on with a shrug; girls wore girls underwear. The top... the bra was something I had no idea how to deal with. How did you get your hands around to your back like you'd need?
“Here, here. Let me show you. Never dealt with a bra before?”
I ignored her amused tone; after all, she was trying to help me.
“No.”
She hooked the contraption around my stomach, reversed it, and pulled it up, gently squishing my new things into the cups provided. It was apparently adjustable, because she did so.
“Well what did you do, bind them somehow? I mean I can understand not wanting to spring for a bra if you don't have the money, but you never showed a hint of those puppies.”
She shook her head.
“Perfect B's. I thought so. You could have hid those before, if they were smaller, but that's some fast growth spurt. And I could have sworn you were shorter before.”
“I was. I have no idea how it happened.”
Standing in the mirror was a young girl in underwear a shade darker than her hair. I did not like what Liz handed me next. Skirts were impractical, drafty and not warm at all. This one matched my new underwear, and cut unevenly. It was longer on the right side than left. Weird, was that on purpose of that? It was also made of some sort of plastic or something; just very impractical.
“Don't look at me like that; I had to work with what I had. Somehow a moth had gotten into my old stuff, so I had to go to goodwill.”
I winced again. I was familiar with goodwill; contrary to what most people thought, they were not a charity. Liz had paid for these clothes, which meant I owed her. She poked me.
“I know that look. You can pay me back by putting on the skirt.”
Well at least she hadn't seen anything unusual about my body; there was no way she wouldn't have said anything if she had. I put the skirt on; I could always trade it away for something later. The girls I knew were forever trading clothes away, many times the more impractical the better.
The top was better, some sort of soft sheer light black sweater that was missing it's left shoulder on purpose. Despite that, it had long sleeves I could roll up and would likely be warmer than my shirts, which would come in handy pretty soon. Especially since my coat was now trashed and probably wouldn't fit me anymore anyway. I threw it over my head and it was rapidly adjusted; it showed my bra strap; was it supposed to?
White socks and black sneakers completed the idea; I put those on, hopping on one leg. Then my head was snagged out of the air, and a brush was applied to my hair.
“I know you brushed this before, but you fell asleep with it wet and that always tangles it.”
My hair was long for some reason, and as impractical as the skirt. I would have to get it cut and soon. I might also have to dye it; the pink was probably going to draw too much attention as it was. Liz ran a brush through it several times, but it seems her predictions of tangles were wrong; the brush slid through without resistance as I tied the shoes. They were a little large, but I'd dealt with that before. I retied X's sheath to me as well, needing no urging. As soon as I did, I felt better; energized.
Done, Liz ushered me out of the bathroom.
The other three in the apartment gaped the moment I appeared; I wanted to hide.
“Jeez, Liz. Tease her hair some and she could be an '80's pop star. Couldn't you find anything closer to this century?”
“Shut it you; her sizes were unusual and I did the best I could with what I had.”
Devons face clearly showed his doubts. I had some myself, but I wasn't about to air them. After all, Liz had been nice enough to get me the clothes in the first place. Without them I'd still be in the robe. I would ask how much I owed her later; when I could actually pay.
The food was all but gone, but there looked to be enough left over for sandwiches, and there was an empty chair. I was hungry again, which worried me. But I had been invited before, and the food was just sitting there, so I grabbed some bread and started making a sandwich.
“What time is it?”
“Almost 10 pm.”
Ack! I slept the day away... again!
“Crap! I'm sorry Devon, I'll get started right away.”
I could at least clean the place one last time to get rid of all my messes and such before turning myself in. I'd also need to find a way to pay both of them back before being jailed for however long I'd be jailed for. X sent waves of comfort at me, though underlying I caught the assurance that I wouldn't be spending any time in prison; he would intervene if it came to that. I was pretty sure I didn't want him to intervene, and made him aware of that fact... somehow. He gave a sort of shrug.
“You O.K. Rose?”
I returned my attention to those around me and the half eaten ham sandwich in my hand. The jolly looking large man caught my interest. He must be important if Devon had let him in the apartment.
“Yes, sorry. Was just discussing things with X. So who are you, sir?”
“Arnold Edison, a lawyer. Devon's asked me to provide legal counsel to you, though I'm not sure you need any. A more clear cut case of self defense I've never heard.”
I finished my sandwich and bowed my head.
“It wasn't self defense sir, it was murder. I actively sought the giant out and struck with intent to kill.”
“Look up at me, Rose.”
I looked up and his eyes caught mine. There was a wisdom in them, a world weary experience, that I could tell mirrored mine.
“You killed someone actively engaged in killing dozens of people; one who would not stop unless stopped. Indeed, one who by all accounts was as dangerous as they come. I would have a hard time believing it, personally, but that sword on your hip tells another story. Devon says you don't lie.”
Omitting things could count, but I'd never lie outright.
“I... dislike to, yes.”
“And you did say that you sought him out, attacked, and killed the giant. Why?”
“X told me Devon was in danger. That others were in danger too. I was awake and couldn't just let them be hurt because I didn't do anything.”
He stared into my eyes for a long moment. I had trouble meeting that gaze for long, but at X's urging I kept it up as long as I could.
“I believe you. In that case, you did nothing wrong, and I'll defend you if necessary. First things first; we call the police, and I tell them you will be turning yourself in tomorrow morning. Then we strategize; go over what you're going to say, and why. Then we sleep. Any questions?”
That worked nicely for me.
“None, sir.”
“Can you tell me where your sword came from?”
I pondered that; I didn't see the harm in it.
“He appeared in my hand when I called for him, sir. Before that I don't know, and he hasn't said.”
Mr. Edison pulled a piece of ham over and nibbled on it absently.
“Have you asked?”
“Of course sir. He doesn't talk exactly, and doesn't answer me when I ask.”
I didn't think X wanted to answer yet, and I could respect that. Everyone had secrets, even magic swords.
“So, this 'X', is intelligent?”
“Yes sir. Probably smarter than me.”
I gestured towards the juice, and Devon nodded consent. So he would throw that out too if I didn't drink it? Weird. I poured a glass with a shrug. I had almost taken my first drink when Mr. Edison spoke again.
“So why you? Why did X come to you at all, or help you? The sheath obviously belongs with the sword. Devon and Sergei both claim it showed up on you a week ago. Was X hiding, as it were?”
I sorted through the sudden flood of sensations and images X sent me in response.
“No sir. He says I needed the sheath, for some reason, so he sent it ahead. As for him, he was traveling. I'm not sure from where, but it took several days. As for why, he says I'm someone's heir, and a worthy partner for him.”
I didn't tell Mr Edison that the impression I got was that X had been alone and partnerless a very long time. I didn't agree that I was worthy of a magic sword, especially one as magnificent as X. but his answer was to flood me with warmth and happiness; he was overjoyed to meet me and talk to me.
“Alright. So you didn't find or steal X from anywhere.”
How dare he!
“No sir, of course not! I don't steal.”
“At all?”
“At all, sir. I've never stolen anything in my life. At least, not that I remember.”
“Not even a piece of gum, or candy? Something small?”
I shook my head.
“No sir, not even gum or candy.”
Mr Edison's jaw dropped. Was it really that surprising that I liked to pay for things? Stealing was wrong, so why would I do it? Devon looked on, and joked:
“He's a defense attorney kid, I think you broke him.”
Why would he be surprised by that? Didn't he defend the innocent?
“So you don't lie, you don't cheat, you don't steal, ever?”
“Not if I can avoid it. I might have lied as a kid, I'm not sure. But the cheating reminds me; I need to get started on that bathroom. If I leave it any longer the stains will set.”
In truth, I feared they might have set already, but another hour would remove all doubt, and then it'd take much more effort to get it clean. I stood, and managed to hide the wobble.
“So you have a deal with Devon, Rose? You clean in exchange for what?”
“A warm place to sleep sometimes. Food and drink, mainly. Stuff like sandwiches and juice.”
Mr. Edison said something sharply to Devon, but I didn't quite catch it as I closed the door. I didn't want anyone to see the state his bathroom was in; it was in a sad state, and my fault. Luckily the cleansing agents I needed were already here. So I wouldn't have to go back out to get them. There were even garbage bags for the many now empty bags of ice.
I started there first, while spraying the tub liberally. I wasn't sure what the gunk in the tub was, but it was disgusting. I had to be very careful not to stain my new clothes. A much longer round of scrubbing than I liked, and the bathroom was finally clean. I pulled the garbage out behind me and closed the door.
All conversation ceased the moment I reappeared, which meant they had been talking about me. I didn't mind that, I'd be pretty interested too. Maybe Mr. Edison knew the answers to some of my questions; Devon knew them I think, but he seemed unwilling to answer them yet. Mr. Edison might be more forthcoming. I started in on the mess I'd made of the dining room, while my silent audience looked on.
Once all the trash and old wrappers were bagged, I moved on to what little remained of the food. After a day out, it was likely spoiled or close. But I'd gone hungry too many times, and I knew where Devon kept his few plastic containers. The berries, sides, vegetables, I crammed into those containers (Some had to be crammed in like to like, for example the few strawberries left and the raspberries.) and put them in the fridge. I'd eat them if no one else would.
A final spritz and polish of the table, a sweeping of the floor (I was really messy earlier, it seemed) and it was time to move on. I started down the stairs. Liz stopped me.
“Rose, where are you going?”
“Downstairs of course. It's been a week or more, right?”
She nodded.
“Well I haven't cleaned yet this week then, and I need to pay Mr. Williams... sorry, Devon back for all the food. I owe him a lot.”
Silently I despaired. I owed Devon more than just a lot. I owed him probably a years worth of labor in return for today's meal alone. I'd never be able to pay it all back. Liz dropped her hand from my arm and down I went. If Devon let me sleep in the lounge again, that would be nice; but I had to get the gym clean first, or I'd never rest easy.
Major Mark Winchester stepped off the stair and onto the cracked tarmac; the heat haze wafting up to greet him made him drench his suit in an instant.
The gate was out of the way, tucked in a corner of the airport, yet still boasted four agents; two from the government, and two from the Mutant Commision Office. The latter two were unasked for and very much unwelcome.
“Major Winchester. I'm agent Oakes, and this is my partner agent MacKowiak, defense intelligence agency.”
The other two, trying their best to emulate the two actual agents and failing miserably, stepped up in an attempt to try and make themselves relevant.
“And I'm agent Talbert, and this is my partner Agent Ramirez. MCO.”
Agent Oakes continued smoothly as if he hadn't been interrupted at all. “Word from your government is that you have an issue, but the messages sent were light on the details. Can you clarify the details?”
“I can tell you it's Tintagel scenario one.”
The MCO agents both soured, but agent Oakes's eyes crossed briefly, then widened. That was all the confirmation that he had read the scenario Mark needed.
“Really? Here? And what of...?”
Mark nodded as solemn as he could, partly to annoy the other agents. “Already here, we think. It's somewhere along the projected path we sent you.”
“Wait, it's FLYING?” MacKowaik asked.
“Technically it's flown. We think it touched down here, roughly twenty hours ago.”
“But, of all the ways to show up here, flight?”
Mark shrugged. “It does what it wants. It always has.”
“Excuse me,” Talbert interrupted. “What's flying here, and why?”
Mark stopped. “They haven't been briefed?”
The smile Oakes shot him was predatory. “Need to know. They are as a favor to someone up the chain, but that didn't include briefing on all potential scenarios involving your... team.”
“I see.” He really did. He also didn't blame the other man for all the problems having these two along would cause. String pulling was as much a tradition as any other, after all.
“Is this area safe?”
“With the noise from your plane masking us, and this much open tarmac? It's as safe as anywhere else.”
Mark turned to the other agents, appearing to cough in case of lip readers. “We're looking for a sword.”
Agent Talbert didn't cover his mouth, choosing to deadpan his reply instead. “A sword. All this, for a sword?”
Mark sighed. “A magic sword. A very powerful magic sword, and whoever is wielding it now.”
“Well, whoever stole it, if they are a mutant, we'll catch them.” Talbert was a fool; whose ear did he have?
Either way, there was only one way to deal with the situation. Mark swiftly got in the man's personal space. “Not catch them, find them. Do anything more, and there will be a problem, do you understand?”
The man backed up, almost bumping into his partner. “I understand.” Was the sullen reply.
Still, he couldn't take the chance. Silently he signaled Bors to watch the two and waited for the promised transport to arrive.
…....
I woke and rolled over; the lounge couch squeaked under me. I had managed to clean everything last night by midnight, but Devon didn't give permission to stay. He had locked up, however, and my stuff was still in his apartment so I couldn't leave like I wanted to. That was probably for the best since I was out on my feet last night, and permission or not I couldn't do much. I just hope he wasn't mad I crashed on his couch. And overslept. And had Liza staring at me.
“Finally awake! Come on, let's get you ready. Can't go see the police looking like that, and it's nine already! They expect us in an hour!”
She hustled me into the women's shower room and all but took my clothes off for me. She handed me some body wash, shaking her head all the while. It smelled of flowers.
“Use it. A girl should use the proper stuff, and this is right for you.”
I didn't have the heart to tell her that the smell could give me away; some people on the streets had keen noses. I could just bathe in a stream afterward, or something. Provided the police didn't throw me in jail, of course.
The body wash was followed up by a matching shampoo with the same smell, made by the same company.
Worn jeans and a shirt were the costume given me today; the shirt was a bit tighter than I was used to, and the jeans a bit more baggy, but they weren't too bad. A little faded, and one knee was worn almost through, but they could last months yet with proper care.
“Hm, no makeup, at least not today. Sends the wrong message. Wish I'd gotten a bigger shirt for you too, but there's only so much I can do at second-hand stores.”
“Thank you, Liza, I appreciate this.”
She ruffled my hair, undoing all the work I was putting into untangling it. I should probably cut it....
“Think nothing of it, kid.”
Mr. Edison was waiting when Liza finally let me go, waiting patiently. Devon was with him, which was a surprise; I didn't expect him to leave his business and come. It seemed like too much trouble for him.
“Alright Rose, you're coming with me,” Liza stated. “Let the two guys find their own ride.”
“Sure.” I wanted to bring my stuff, just in case, but it looked like that wasn't going to be possible.
I got into Liza's tiny two-seat car and she started it up, blasting us both with music of some kind at loud volume. X didn't like it, whatever it was.
“Sorry.” Liza turned it off and pulled out. I sunk as low as I could into the seat and looked for people I knew; Liza was quiet, watching me a bit too much for my comfort.
We drove in and parked at the local precinct (lucky number 13) with Mr. Edison leading the way. The desk Sargent, one Albert H. Henderson, took one look our way and his face soured.
“Mr. Edison, you have an appointment. Interrogation room four, third floor.”
He recognized me as I passed, judging from his double-take. I waved, and he waved back with a smile. I wanted X here, but he was free from confiscation in the car, and he assured me he would come if I called. I didn't want to use his ability like a cheap show and tell parlor trick, but Mr. Edison said it might be necessary to prove the truth.
Interrogation room four was empty when we found it, and there were only four chairs; two set on one side, and two on the other. Liza wasted no time snagging the two opposite us, taking one for herself and one for Devon.
We didn't have to wait long. Two police dressed in suits came in, one a man with a rough and large look, kind of like Devon but bigger and with as many scars, and the other a rather plain looking woman who looked as if it were her third day straight staying up.
She was also rude. “You two,” she all but yelled, pointing to Devon and Liza, “get out. You need to be in interrogation six.”
Devon got straight to the point. “Why?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Because you're a witness in a major incident, a mass killing, and you claim to know the person responsible for ending the threat. I want to know if you're lying to me, and the best way to do that is to question you all separately. So get to it.” She pointed imperiously, and Devon left, grumbling, with Liza in tow.
“You know you can't question Devon at least, without me being present,” Edison stated.
“Isn't that a conflict of interest?” The female cop countered, slapping down an old style tape recorder. Did cops still use those things? How would they even find tapes for them?
“It is if I represent him or Miss Campbell here in court. Assuming you have something to charge him with.”
He didn't say they couldn't charge me. That was not reassuring.
“Alright, so this Miss Campbell is...” The policewoman looked me over again, taking longer this time, and leaning over the table to get close.
“The one who dispatched the mutant known as Fomor yesterday.”
Both cops faces soured immediately. The policewoman took the lead again. “I'd hoped you were kidding there; this little slip of a thing? What did she do?”
Mr. Edison opened his mouth, but I responded first. “I cut him in half, from crown to groin.”
“Oh yeah?' she said as if she didn't believe me. 'and how did you do that?”
I answered promptly. “With a sword. A.. um, I'm not sure what it's called. A two handed sword, double edged.”
Well, that was embarrassing; I really should know what kind of sword X was. I could feel his laughter, like the tinkling of gentle bells in my mind.
“Ah, Christ, I hate dealing with the powered. Alright, so we have footage from security cameras placing you at the scene, we have eyewitness testimony, and we have a dead guy that tank shells couldn't penetrate, but somehow your sword could.”
“Well, he's a magic sword.” Mr. Edison glared at me. I wasn't sure why he was mad, I had told him I was going to the cops to tell them what happened. (I had originally been saying confess, but Mr. Edison had insisted I wasn't guilty of anything.)
The female cop face-palmed and then slumped into her seat. “A magic sword, of course. Just... of course. And just where is this sword now?”
Mr. Edison overrode me this time. “Don't answer that! Enough, you're badgering a minor here,” He turned to me, a plea clear on his face. “Rose, let me handle it, okay?”
Well, it was his job. I didn't like that he thought I shouldn't talk, though. “Okay.”
“So, here's what I know.” He began, then related the story of me waking up, knowing friends were in danger, (I would have said citizens or people since I would have acted regardless) rushing out half dressed (true – and embarrassing) and confronted the giant, who was apparently a mutant. After asking him to stop (I had) I murdered him with a single overhand strike and lots of help from X.
The way he told it made it seem both more and less exciting than it had been.
I mostly remembered resolute terror and the feeling of my stomach trying to eat the rest of me. The male cop spoke for the first time once Mr. Edison finished.
“Jibes with the evidence, Rach. It's too neat.”
Rach gave him a glance filled with more venom than the giant had given me. “Shut up, John.” Then she muttered a string of curse words under her breath. Turning to me, she tried to straighten her face up; it wouldn't obey her, and the end result looked awful. Not that I'd ever tell her that!
“Alright, let's go over a few more things. You are a powered individual, correct?”
“A what?”
“A powered individual, a mutant, dynamorph, spirit host, something like that.”
I thought it over. “If X counts then yes. I'm not sure I have powers on my own.” In fact, I was pretty sure I didn't. X seemed to think that was funny; the bells tinkled again in my mind. He seemed to think virtue was a super power...? I wasn't even sure what he meant by that, his idea of the concept was confusing.
Rach looked me over again, just long enough to give me the creeps, and only then replied: “Trust me, honey, you're powered. And I'm guessing you're under the twenty-four limit, or your shyster wouldn't have even let you walk in here.”
he first time
“Flattery will get you everywhere, officer.” Mr. Edison responded with a grin that told me he felt he was being clever.
I didn't know what they were talking about. “The twenty-four limit?”
“The twenty-four or one day limit required by law in our fair city to register a deadly weapon; in your case, one sword.” The other cop answered; Rach shot him a look.
I wondered how long they were intending to be rude; they still hadn't given names. “Well, I suppose I can register him. I doubt he will mind.”
Rach snorted again, twice as loud as the first time. “Good. I'll be right back with that paperwork.”
Both the cops left without another word.
“They were both pretty rude. They didn't even give us their names or say good morning or anything.”
Mr. Edison laughed. “Well, that's true, but I think they have other things on their minds. Besides, I know them. The one who acts as if she hates everyone is Rachel Leek. Her quiet partner is John Patoka; they work in the powered crimes division, and they transferred out from homicide last year, which might explain why they were so cranky.”
Yes, I could see that. They didn't want to work on solving murders anymore, and yet here they were.
“So what happens now?”
Mr. Edison winked and pointed at the corner of the room; there was a hidden camera there, X had already told me. “Well, right now, officer Leek is discussing the viability of charging you with murder with her boss and being told she can't.
What? “Why not? I did kill him.”
Mr. Edison nodded. “Yes, but you did so in defense of others, and eyewitness reports say you tried to talk him down first. You saved many lives yesterday; I don't know how many, but if you hadn't stopped Formor, he wouldn't have stopped. He could have cut a swath of destruction through the city; charging you with murder for saving lives like that, well it just won't fly. Not in the court of public opinion or in the courts themselves.”
That was right, I guess... but it still didn't seem right. The end of a life shouldn't be treated so... I don't know, lightly?
X sent soothing images my way, tangled up with something else I couldn't figure out.
“Anyway, so Mrs. Leek will throw a bit of a fit, throw a few things, let us stew here for awhile, and then come back and let us out. She will undoubtedly regale us with cop cliché number two, and then we will fill out your paperwork and leave.”
“What's cop cliché number two?” I asked him. He probably did the numbering himself.
Mr. Edison leaned back and laughed; the chair creaked alarmingly. “Oh, I wouldn't want to deprive you of it. Just remember, when you hear it, it's number two.”
The door opened, and Mr. Edison's grin got wider. Officer Leek stormed in, officer Patoka on her heels. She slammed the single piece of paper in her hands down on the table, making as big an effort at it as she could.
“I'm officer Leek, and this is officer Patoka. We have decided not to charge you in this matter, at this time. However, we'd like a contact number.”
Well, that was going to be difficult. Unless... I turned to where Mr. Edison was already looking over the paper that officer Leek brought. “Mr. Edison, do you mind if I use you as my contact number?”
“Not at all my dear, I'm your lawyer after all. I would have insisted on being called first in any case.” He pulled out one of his business cards and held it out; officer Leek stared at it as if it were a live snake. Officer Patoka took it instead.
“Alright. You're free to go. However, don't leave town.”
“Yes!” Mr. Edison stage whispered. “Cliche number two.”
Officer Leek looked like she had swallowed lemons, but didn't say anything else; just opened the door and motioned us out.
Liza and Devon were already there, waiting. Liza took one look at us and grinned. “I didn't know anything, so they didn't get much.”
I turned to Devon, and he answered. “I already gave two statements. This was the third and they got nothing, so they couldn't really hold me up either.”
Mr. Edison waved the sheet in his hands. “Just need to fill this lethal weapon registration out, then we can go. I did think of a place we need to visit, though, and the sooner the better.”
“Oh, where's that?”
“The Mutant Commission Office.”
Liza jumped. “What?!?”
Mr. Edison held his hands up in surrender for a moment. “Hear me out. Rose here thinks she isn't a mutant or powered individual. She even said as much to the police.”
Liza turned and gave me a once over; first the cop and now her. Was something in the water? Come to think of it, that would explain much. “Yeah, no. Girl, you got to be something, because no normal girl looks like that, let alone the abilities you show.”
“What abilities?” I don't think I looked any different than Liza; at least, not in the general sense. If I wasn't human, shouldn't I look different than human? More like the giant, Formor, had?
“Well, you swing a sword that has to weigh five pounds at least around as if it was a butter knife. That sort of thing is harder than it looks.”
Was it? I was pretty sure most of it was X letting me swing him; he felt like a mop handle or something similar in my hand; light but long. X wasn't amused by the comparison, but he let it slide.
Devon thought for a moment but shook his head. “Nah, I'm not touchin' that one. You got powers, Rose. I'm not sure what they are, but you got 'em. But the MCO, Arnie? They don't have the best reputation.”
“I'm aware, but with a pillar of the community such as yourself, and a well-known lawyer such as myself, they won't dare try anything. Besides, they are the only game in town for powers testing, at least right now, and it's better to show up and deal with them than not.” Arnie's eyes shifted a few times as he replied like he was hiding something.
I didn't get it; of course, I'd cooperate. The Mutant Commission Office was the duly appointed authority on powered individuals. Not that I had powers; I'd show up, they would test me and find nothing and everyone would drop it. Then maybe I could get work on a detail working the clean up; there would be good money in that. Well, minimum wage at least, and the city workers would be swamped, so their union wouldn't protest that much. Maybe.
“I'm coming too,” Liza stated, rather needlessly in my opinion, since she was already bundling me into her car again.
…...
Mark stared idly out the window of the unmarked sedan, into a warzone. Exploded ordinance, craters and shrapnel, the pock marks of gunfire... a swath of destruction that wouldn't have looked out of place in the third world. He did not believe in coincidence.
“What happened here?”
“An incident yesterday. A dangerous mutant broke out of a special containment cell and went on a rampage.”
“Oh? It was bad enough to green light the use of military resources in a civilian center? Must have been one bad man.”
“I can't possibly comment on that, sir. However the situation was resolved, otherwise, we would be having this conversation elsewhere.”
Yes, they likely would have diverted his flight – which was typical, really. Then again, those were the remains of battle armor from the Knights of Purity they just drove by, so perhaps his team wouldn't have fared well at all. The feeling got stronger.
“How did the situation resolve? Surely this much ordnance was....”
“Ineffective, actually. From what I understand the mutant was particularly tough; early estimates theorize an exemplar 7, or some combination of abilities that mimics the effects.”
Mark raised his eyebrows slowly. There had never been an exemplar rated that highly, on record, either in North America or Great Britain. He regularly checked over the who's who list of notable powered individuals known in-house as the “rogue's gallery.” It was required reading.
“So what did finally resolve the situation?” Mark was under no illusions as to how the situation was resolved; there was only one outcome for such a rampage.
“The investigation is pending.” Neil hesitated, then continued. “If you want, I can look into it; We are headed to the check in with the police after all.”
“I would appreciate it. Let the crown know if your government needs any assistance in disaster relief.”
Neil's face went stony, which meant he was a fool. “I'll pass the word along sir.”
Mark settled back and waited, fuming as the car slowed down even more to avoid holes in the road. A quick check with this city's police force was going to be anything but, and the radar images he'd requested had been delayed; almost as if someone, somewhere, was trying to thwart him.
In truth, it was likely to be several people or groups; his mission was not a popular one in certain circles. He could only hope the head start he'd been given was enough.
The police station itself was just as hectic as the city promised; there was no panic, but people in uniforms of all kinds and colors were wasting no time in running toward destinations no one else knew of with great hurry they didn't need. Even the army blokes seemed to be affected. The entered, weaving through people, and were immediately hit with the noise; it was almost like a football or rugby game. Mark snorted; well without one-half suddenly attacking the other over team pride, that was.
He stopped tuning in (so to speak) at the third mention of the giant attack; it wasn't his city or his problem. The mission came first.
Neil broke off from the merry band as soon as they passed the lobby into the precinct proper. His partner Paul led the way into a quaint break room and poured them each a cup of bad coffee. Some of the others sat down to wait; he eyed the chairs and decided he preferred to stand. The break room emptied of it's usual clientele; Mark did not object.
He actually preferred to be handling this himself, especially now, but his government had been adamant.
Neil burst back in, looking winded. Mark idly wondered if something about this place were catching.
“The CPD just released details on the Formor attack; they were treating it as a potential homicide. The one who stopped the attack was a young girl... armed with a sword.”
Turns out the place was contagious after all; Mark was already moving, before Neil finished: “For some reason, they didn't confiscate the sword as evidence, or even try to. They cleared the case as self-defense based almost solely on her testimony. I have an address and a number however. The number is to her lawyer, but the address is to a gym not far from the attack.”
Mark wanted to throttle the man. Again. “Quit wasting time. Let's go.”
.....
Agatha Lynch stared at it.
The book knew all.
She was unsure at first, while the book was as much a part of history as the country as the old library she worked in, it hinted at dark things... impossible things that couldn't possibly be taken seriously in a modern age. Laughable fears that grade B movies were made from. And yet....
She had read it, of course, the tale of a scared frontier people encountering forces beyond their ken, of wise and learned men dabbling in forces best left alone that they could not control, and of the death of death itself. It had taken less than a day to decipher the pained scribble of a book not printed by machine, even with it written in a tongue old enough to be considered another language. It took just longer than that to read.
It was time. She got dressed in her most severe and outdated clothes, an old knit sweater with long sleeves and a full neck, and a skirt that covered her ankles. Some old heels and a ratty coat completed the image. Agatha looked at herself in her mirror; she looked old, non-threatening, almost grandmotherly but perhaps a bit too severe for that. Perfect; she grabbed her purse and locked up on the way out of her apartment.
Yes, the book had been a joke. She had wanted a history of pioneer life or travel, and gotten a cheap horror novel. And then it had whispered at her.
She had called in the next day, the sweet, cloying whispers swirling around her head like a heavy but pleasant fog. The voices had told her what to do. Where to go, what to buy, how to set up so as not to be found.
She found her target, a homeless man taking shelter in an alley below a fire escape; the fire escape would cut the rain, but not stop it from hitting what was below. He was thin and wan, but still strong and mostly healthy looking, even if his hair and clothes badly needed a wash. The rain also wouldn't do enough to cut the smell.
“Excuse me, sir?”
His gaze snapped up, and she saw the look of defeat she expected behind the wariness.
“Would you like a better place to stay for the night? I know a place.”
He stared at her, calculating. She knew how she looked; either poor or freshly homeless herself, well under his six-foot frame and weighing in at least fifty pounds less. With no weapon, she was no threat. But he was experienced, a gritty survivor, so she waited while he weighed her risk.
“Sure.” Was all he said, finally.
Yes, the book whispered many things; even where to bury the knife for best results.
She was not ready, for all that preparations were nearly complete. Tonight would be the last night, midnight the last hour, their will be done.
An interesting thing about life; no one gets out of it alive. People get shot, stabbed, thrown off cliffs, poisoned, and all manner of things involving a lack of morality each day. Yet one of the most surprising things about life is, what ends it the most often.
You hear plenty of people picketing and protesting, wanting to ban guns, nuclear weapons, and cigarettes. Guess what device being banned would save the most lives? The bathtub.
That's right folks, more than guns, more than car accidents, more than all the nuclear weapons ever used combined, baths are lethal. It isn't even close. But you never see grungy people protesting the leading cause of death multiple years in a row. Come to think of it, a bunch of Charlie Brown pig pen like people waving signs outside a capitol would be rather amusing.
You never hear of anyone asking to ban what killed me either; the internal combustion engine driven demon commonly known as the car. A Gremlin in my case, of all things. There I was, walking home from the movie theater with my best friend Reg.
Reg (or Reginald, though it meant a fight if you called him that) had been my friend since kindergarten. Maybe even since preschool, though my memory didn't go back that far. We had just gone to see the movie monster marathon at the Globe, an old time theater. It was October 29th, 1976 in Silo, Iowa.
Yes, they named the town Silo, I swear, I can't make this stuff up.
Silo was the typical two horse town; a small strip of suburbia placed in the middle of farms, large or small. Corn had more of a presence in the region than people. We had a small grocery store, a small hardware store, and a small theater that was among the oldest in the state. It was falling apart of course, but it still made money. Where that money went no one could say, cause it almost never showed new movies, instead showing grainy insect eaten copies of the classics.
It was also the only source of urban amusement for anyone living in the town. Next closest thing was one of the new malls in Bufordsville, a good thirty miles away. Kids like us could only reach it by parents, or by bike. And biking there on the interstate took way too long in my opinion.
Thad swore my dad was the best amusement in town. My dad was a mutant. A so called “gadgeteer” to be precise, he made strange hi-tech toys for kids. That's right, no cool robots or ray guns or futuristic appliances; dad (Dr. Wexler, or Paul to his friends) was a toy maker.
The toy that most people loved, that was even manufactured by Hasbro, was a walking talking cyborg guy with a light up eyes and a kung-fu grip called Commander Zap. Which was a stupid name, but nobody asked me. It paid the bills anyway, and I had the full line for free. I didn't see the allure though. I was more a fan of simple toys; model planes or trains, things like that.
The unspeakable things he did to my model train set still haunts me.
These wandering thoughts and memories were beneficial; they took me, for a brief time, away from the fact that I lay dying. But again I remembered, the panic setting in this time to stay, the dream of past fun times now tinged with the knowledge of approaching mortality like blood pouring from a wound.
Possibly even from my wounds, though I wasn't really capable of checking that.
WE had just gotten out of the theater, after the marathon, the last of which had been “Bride of Frankenstein”, a pretty awesome movie by 1930's standards, and were filing out into the street with the crowd, when the truck came. A semi without a trailer, driving down the interstate in what for us, was a late hour. It also seemed the driver had never been here before, as he missed the weather-beaten but still bright red stop sign at the intersection before the crosswalk. The crosswalk a good 10 of us were on. The crosswalk the Gremlin was just now passing.
I had looked up from some comment on how hot the actress was, even with stitches, to my friend Thad (who was a bit of a horndog) to see a puke green monstrosity coming at me, seeming to be at least five times larger than it likely was.
And then the sensation of flying; no pain, no impacts with either the truck or the ground. Just flying. My best friend's face swam into vision, sparking off a thousand memories of disjointed moments; stealing cookies from the cookie jar then running when my father saw us, laughing. Playing hide and seek in the woods with other kids. Lying in the warm sun, just soaking it up, next to the creek where we used to launch boats of our own making.
This mixed with a thousand other such moments, all sparkling crystals shining in the river of blood surging out of me with every beat of my overactive heart. Asking Julie Devries to the freshman dance, and her laughter. Actually going with Betty McCallister, and the great time we had, discoing away till our parents broke us up.
Playing baseball with Doug McCallister, her brother, and winning the little league regional that year. My father, on my tenth birthday, handing me the wrapped package that turned out to be the train set he later butchered. My mother, her face more clear than it had been in years, staring up at me with a smile I could only classify as melancholy.
More faces, names, dates, and blurs, all circling in and crowding me as my friend's face began to dim; there was no sound save the roar of my blood in my ears, and no sensation other than the creeping cold stealing it's way into me like a thief after my most valuable possession.
And then nothing at all.
This wasn't how I expected death to be. Where were the angels, the pearly gates, the past relatives my grandparents had told me about? For that matter where were my grandparents themselves? They had both died before this I was sure, I could remember being young and going to the funeral home for Grandma's, though I couldn't seem to picture her face anymore.
There we no devils either, no lake of fire and brimstone, no screams of the tortured sinners to serenade me.
There was only blackness, pure and total. No sensation, no pain, no sound, no sights. Nothing. I was all there was. The only thing that existed, though I could only prove I existed by chasing my increasingly muddled thoughts around, as a dog would chase it's own tail. Soon even that started to fade, and I simply was. I was trapped, with only myself to console me.
I made games to pass the time, relived memories till they began to fray around the edges. And still, there was naught but darkness.
Then there was light. It wasn't a clear break of day, the pure light of truth, or a magical epiphany of the hoped for variety. Instead it started out as an ever so perceptible dimming of the pure darkness I was enclosed in. The next thing noticed was sensation. The heat and cold I'd almost forgotten existed impinged upon all that I was, enlarging it.
Almost at the same time another increase in all that I was came to me. Sound. I remembered this from the dances and films that endlessly replayed themselves in myself. But this music was different; new. I had heard some of it before, the classics they were called. Some were remembered clearly from those very movies I could still remember.
But some, and these were the most important by far, were songs I had never heard before, for all that they involved the same old themes of love, loss and bragging. Some voices I even fancied I recognized, like the one that made me dream of meat. To my near endless frustration, I could not understand them. The dulcet tones nor gravelly baritones alike. I knew I should be able to, but I couldn't. The language seemed hauntingly familiar. Perhaps I had lost more of myself than I thought to the darkness?
I mourned, despairing that I would ever know such understanding again.
That led to my next discovery; I 'mourned'! I felt 'despair'! I could feel! All that I was had expanded! But I could not move. I was still trapped, even with the new/old/half remembered stimuli.
There were other voices too, that did not belong to the music, that spoke in soft gentle tones of almost reverence. I had the feeling they were speaking to me, but I couldn't understand them, and couldn't respond. I didn't even know how to. They came and went, unknowing of my plight.
Then my vision began to clear. I knew then, I had to have eyes! And to hear, I had to have ears! To feel cold, I had to have a body! I remembered bodies. Everyone had them, even I had once. But somehow I had one again?
The moon, that was the source of the light. It was almost painfully bright and oh so beautiful; a pure white like the light in my dreams had been. It was a friend, that light, and I embraced it as utterly as one can when one cannot move.
The heights of joy, to have a friend again! A dim memory of a face, almost lost, faded to a complete lack of recognition, surfaced. That was a puzzle; one I could not solve and that made me feel bad somehow. But the moon could be my new best friend, and I would love it utterly! It even had a face too!
A small part of me whispered that the moon would be a very poor friend, having no self to speak of, but I ignored that part of me. I was big enough now that I could ignore the parts of I that I did not like, and that one was a jerk.
And then greater despair; the moon left me. It stole itself away from my new vision, and I was alone again. How dare it move when I could not! I hated it!
Maybe the music would be my friend? It had not left me since I regained my hearing. Maybe it would stay? I listened intently, mourning the loss of the traitorous moon, but while the music itself was pure, and understandable, the words in some of it were gibberish, illusive. But some were beginning to make sense, as if I had heard them before.
The ones made by the meat guy were especially soothing. Something familiar somehow, even when it wasn't. More light came, this time tinged golden, and I expanded again. Memories of sunshine came back, of a thousand days spent in it's warmth. My vision was somehow drawn to it, a lodestone even brighter than the moon. I remembered now, the two chased each other around the sky. One meant the other would be gone or hiding... most of the time.
The rules of existence began to reassert themselves. My vision moved, which meant I had to have eyes. Hearing indicated ears. Feeling indicated a body. When I focused, I could blink... eyelids? Muscles with movement in them. My eyes did not like it, at first. But the pain, the beautiful wonderful pain which made me feel alive, eased.
Even better, my vision began to clear more. I began to make out the details of my new existence; a set of three walls of bare rough cut stone, with large wall hangings on them (I should know that word, I knew I should! Beautiful frustration!) with pictures of animals and things. Mixed with these were posters from movies that I had only a little trouble recognizing, and posters of... boys?
There were shelves lines floor to ceiling with stuffed animals and dolls too; a few of the other things I recognized as having been made by my... father! I had a father! I remembered him, a kooky man who made toys! More emotion; love so deep it swallowed me utterly, mixed with something else, something darker. I did not recognize the stuffed things, or the dolls, except as what they were.
I knew the Commander Zap action figure intimately; I just knew it was mine, the one I'd been gifted with at some point in life. The dolls, the stuffed things, did not have that recognition in their favor; they clearly did not belong, somehow.
Something else intruded on my awareness. Smell. The room smelled musty, of dust and other things not so definable to me. It felt like a tomb, or an unused shrine. How I knew that, I did not know. Maybe I had extensive knowledge of such things?
There was a big fireplace inset in the wall opposite me, and to the side of that closest to the window (a large thing with an arch at the top, all clear glass so clean I could barely tell the glass was there at all) The item on the other side, closest to the door and in it's own cabinet, looked kind of like a stereo system. Though I didn't see any spot to put the 8 tracks in, nor any records.
I was pretty sure it wasn't playing a radio station, as I heard no DJ. It was while pondering this mystery that I was dragged back into the all consuming darkness. I did not wish to go, but the pull was simply too strong. Had I ever sensed those things that were? Or had I simply made them up? Yet again, I despaired.
The jolt shook me awake though. Somehow I was in another place, a place of whiteness, and every nerve (?) I had was tingly and screaming at me. Blue arcs of electricity was arcing across my vision, and there was movement. I wasn't controlling it, but it was movement all the same!
When the arcs of blue stopped, the movement did too. The white settled in around me. Voices began, and understanding followed.
“No response, doctor. Monitors all report no change.”
“Damn, I was sure I'd gotten the mixture right this time!”
“You say that every time, doctor.”
I could do that. Why couldn't I do that? I tried but no sound came.
“Doctor, do you really think this will...? I mean, after so long...?”
“Yes nurse, I really do. Now remove the sheet, I want to check for burns.”
The white came off, and I saw.
I was in a large room, lit by rods of white so intense they seemed pieces of the moon itself, brought to me. There were large, ancient machines of arcane purpose scattered around me; I recognized one as a dynamo, and another as a very large plasma orb, something I was sure was only around for looks. Electricity was arcing along the various massive cables leading from machine to machine; Sure enough, two of those cabled ended above me with giant clips. Electricity then, was the source of the blue I had seen.
Of far more importance than the appearance of the massive room, its play of light and shadow in the dark corners and unease generated by the smell of blood, the fact that I could now feel alternately rough wood upon my back and a sheet upon my front, were the room's occupants.
The one staring at me in shock and alarm, I assumed was the 'nurse'. She was honey blonde, with muted gray eyes set in a pleasant face, clear and unlined. She was quite possibly the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen in my life. I knew she was female because she had breasts; big ones that bounced in a hypnotic way as she jumped away from me, taking the sheet with her.
“Doctor, her eyes are open!”
I tried to speak, to reach out, anything to stop this beautiful creature, this other I, from leaving me. The horror, the sheer stark terror she had at seeing me seared me with cold fire to my core. She took a deep breath, hand over her mouth as she scooted away from me.
My desperation peaked and my hand twitched, reaching towards the beautiful creature as the 'doctor' turned. Breathing! That was what I forgot! A gust of air rushed into me at my request, and the smells assaulting my nose increased tenfold. I idly noted that the chest expansion also affecting my own breasts.
The 'doctor was more lined than the 'nurse', having light brown hair streaked with gray and startling blue eyes. He was still fit, I noted, having an almost gaunt form encased in a white lab coat darkened with stains, and old ratty brown pants, and a gray shirt which might have once been white. I dubbed him beautiful creature number two... and then I recognized him, or thought I did. That faded image that haunted me so, of my best friend's face pulled itself into my surface thoughts in an instant, the gaps filled by the face before me.
My fumbling uncoordinated efforts finally bore fruit; I managed to grab the 'nurse's' arm, and she screamed.
Boy, could she scream! The delightful sensation of my eardrums almost bursting under the assault excited me, and I pushed forward with my attempt to communicate, to show that I was no threat to them, that to the contrary, I loved them and all they represented. But the efforts combined with my flash of recognition and the results got all jumbled.
“Pl...ple...Reg?”
The nurse dropped like a bird felled by a shot, taking me with her, as I would have sooner lost the arm I just found out I possessed than let her go again. Something that seemed a possibility, as it seemed very thin and only held on by a series of fine dark stitches, twined around it's width; the 'nurse's' weight nearly pulled my shoulder and arm off. The pain was exquisite.
The feel of her, the smell of her, was more so. She smelled of lavender soap and a slightly cloying perfume, with just a hint of sweat. She was wearing a spotless silk blouse and a denim skirt that did not quite reach her knees. She was soft and warm, and very inviting. I was concerned that she was lost to the self eating darkness, but she came back almost immediately, squirming briefly under me, then stilling.
The 'doctor' was still standing but motionless, his mouth open so far I could count his teeth. There were 14 in the upper jaw and 12 in the lower. There was something in his gaze that I was not sure I liked as he watched me nestle my head on the 'nurse's' breasts to better drink in their appealing softness, but I loved him anyway. Then he spoke, and something that was missing seemed to snap into place, like a puzzle's final piece.
“They called me mad! Mad! Was it mad to wish to try and reach beyond the veil of death, to pluck the very souls at will from that hungry embrace! And now look! Success! IT'S ALIVE...ALIVE!”
As he laughed, I stared into the face of the 'nurse' and smiled. I wanted to laugh with the 'doctor, but I did not know how. So instead I smiled, feeling the pulling of my cheeks as the nurse stared back with... fear?
The potential fear rapidly shifted to a sort of amused acceptance when I declined to move further; or at least that's what I felt. Her heart was calming, and she began to smile back at me. Yes I was alive, and away from the darkness, and here (wherever here was) people were warm, and not ghostly imitations of I. She even began stroking my head, which felt nice.
“So, um... can you get off me? Let me get up?”
I considered that. I didn't want to, so simply snuggled closer. I knew the perfect word for this, and after a bit, I remembered how to say it.
“Warm.”
After a moment she nodded her head.
“I suppose I am a bit warm, at that. And you’re ice cold. Alright, I get that, but can you at least ease up a little? You're hurting me here.”
I looked at her again, curious. She didn't want to know she was alive? Maybe she didn't need the reminder? She gently took her hands, and tried to loosen my arms. I didn't want to allow that, but I also didn't want to make her mad... so I moved them apart, a little.
I was rewarded with a smile that broke like the dawn across her features. I tried to return the favor, and she made a weird facial expression. I did not care, I loved her anyway.
“Do you remember your name?”
Name? What was a name? I knew what memory was, a recollection of something old... or something lost. So whatever a name was, I could safely say I did not remember what it was. But I also did not know how to tell doctor this. I was floundering, sure I would disappoint my new friends with my failures when the nurse took over.
“You don't remember, do you?”
I thought back, the right response for assertion of a phrase like that seemed to be to nod, so I did.
“See! She does remember!”
I looked at doctor blankly. Nurse shook her head.
“No, I think she nodded to tell me she doesn't know.”
I pointed to her and nodded vigorously.
“Right, thought so. You don't remember the word 'no', do you?”
As soon as she spoke it, I did. A word used to express denial, dissent or refusal. Also expressed by shaking one's head. How delightful, to have a head to shake, and express these things! I beamed, then shook my head with glee. Nurse made another weird face.
“I think she just remembered.”
I nodded furiously.
“Right, well I'm Gracie, and that is Reginald.”
I looked at them both. Were they trying to mess with me? I had heard their names! I pointed to each in turn.
“Nurse. Doctor.”
“No, those are not our names. Those are more... titles. Um, what we do for a living. My name is Gracie, and his is Reginald. Can you tell me what yours is?”
Doctor was silent. He knew this... name thing, I knew he did. Why did they get two names, anyway? It seemed greedy to me. What happened when someone else wanted a name? Did they share?
“Self.”
Doctor made a funny noise, and leaked water from his mouth.
“What was that?”
I pointed to each of them again in turn, and then to myself.
“Nu... Gracie. Reg. Self.”
She shook her head, which made me angry. How dare she deny who I was? Or had I gotten her name wrong somehow? This was very confusing. Doctor snapped his fingers. Could I do that? That looked like fun! I had fingers! I looked from his to mine, unsure how to make the trick work. He pointed at himself, then Nurse, then me.
“Reginald. Gracie. Mary.”
That... a glimpse of something similar flashed through my mind, of many days answering to something that sounded so close, but not quite that word. Of syllables I could not completely recall, uttered by my... father? I had a father? A parent? What was that? Someone to live with? No, I couldn't get side tracked, this was important! This name thing alone was confusing enough! I started a new round of pointing.
“Gracie. Reg. Mary.”
Even I knew I did not call him Reginald. He would get mad. Gracie's voice held a tone of wonder.
“I think she remembers you, doctor.”
There it was again, was he Reg, or was he doctor? Was he doctor Reg? That was it, wasn't it? They were greedy, and had two names! I didn't really care all that much; the only thing that mattered is they were other 'selfs', and I wasn't alone anymore. But still, I tried to go along, otherwise they might leave me to the darkness again.
“Doctor Reg?”
He made a funny face, then sighed. I heard him mutter:
“And that's why I started insisting on my full name.”
Which didn't make any sense to me; he had been doing that from the beginning! Then he smiled at me and put his hand on my head.
“Can you walk? Come on, let's get you back to your room, away from this drafty old tower.”
I would go wherever they led.
Doctor Reg held out his hand, and after some hesitation placed my hand in his. That seemed to be the correct thing to do, because he nodded; but then he pulled at me.
“Mary, you really should let go of Gracie, so she can get up.”
I didn't want to.
“Warm.”
“Do you know what clothes are Mary?”
Clothes? No, I did not know what those are. I shook my head at Gracie, confused by the... question? Was that right?
“Clothes are these.' she took her coat in hand. 'and they help keep people warm.”
I knew what a coat was. Doctor Reg and Nurse Gracie were both wearing them. How could I not know what clothes were? They were the same thing! Why were there so many words for the same thing, anyway?
“And if you let me up, we can go to your room, and give you some clothes.”
I looked. I wasn't wearing any clothes. Maybe that was why I was cold? I nodded and let doctor Reg pull me up. Without nurse Gracie's warmth I started to cool. I didn't like that. Doctor Reg began pulling me to a door. The door was an opening that led other places, I remembered.
I fell of course. I felt little pain, but nurse Gracie rushed to my side.
“Mary, are you alright?”
I nodded., Then tried again. My body didn't want to work the way I wanted it to. I mean the legs worked, but they didn't seem to be listening to me or each other. Doctor Reg put his arm around me.
“One foot in front of the other Mary, not both at once. Watch nurse Gracie; that's right.”
With his support and an example (nurse Gracie walking very slowly for me, showing me every step in the process) I managed not to fall again. I was too thrilled at being able to just go somewhere else, on a whim, to be sad that I was so clumsy. After all, it was more complex than it looked!
The plain wooden door opened onto another sort of door, which slid open to reveal a small room. There was no other door, and I was confused by this, but I allowed myself to be led in just the same. The door slid closed again, and doctor Reg pushed something on a panel to the right of it. It lit up, and the room began to move!
The room itself was going places!
Enchanted, I moved closer to the panel. There were two round things on it, one was bright, and doctor Reg had pushed that one to make the room move. I pushed it again, and nothing happened. So I pushed the other one, and it got bright too. Nurse Gracie smiled at me, and I smiled back.
Doctor Reg shook his head and muttered something about “kids.” Did I do something wrong?
The room chimed, then stopped. Nurse Gracie got out first, with Doctor Reg pulling me out quickly. We were in another place; the door slid shut again with another chime, and I hoped I'd be able to go back to the room that moved, but for now I was in a long hall with doors to either side.
So many places to go! So many places that were not self! Things to do! Doctor Reg spoke:
“That door leads to my room. That door leads to the library. And that door leads to nurse Gracie's room. And the door next to it, leads to your room Mary.”
There were many more doors in the hall before it turned to the right, but it seemed I wouldn't get to hear what was beyond them. I was sad about that. But doctor Reg opened the door on my room, and I saw immediately, the same space I remembered from before, with the dolls and toys and window from which I watched the traitorous moon.
It was up there again, hanging there as if it had every right to be there, after the trick it pulled on me. There was no music. I frowned and stumbled to the stereo like device, pulling doctor Reg along. I didn't want the music to desert me too! I wanted to have it all! I didn't care if that was greedy.
I paid careful attention as he pushed the red glowing... button. Yes, that was what it was called. The device clicked, made whirring noises, and a familiar song began to play. I tracked the sound to four small but loud speakers bolted to the corners of the room, and the bass speaker under the device. 'sing sing sing, by Benny Goodman' my mind supplied. I wanted to dance, but I could barely stand, so I settled for grinning madly.
Nurse Gracie was searching some sort of cabinet large enough to walk in. She muttered things I could not hear over the music, but I clearly understood the words:
“Didn't you bother updating this, doctor? Some of these clothes seem to be from the days of hair bands.”
What was a hair band? Was that like Kiss? Wait, what was Kiss? I almost missed his response as I opened the top of the cabinet the device was in and found... was that a television? It looked so small! With a bunch of miniature records in plastic cases place in cubby's to either side of it.
“Well It just didn't seem important after the first few years.”
“Men. Mad scientist types' she eyed me rather piercingly. 'she's going to have enough trouble as it is without walking around in clothes twenty years out of date.”
Her stare made me sad. Then she was there, putting something over my head. It wasn't a coat, but it was long, and had places for my arms to fit into.
“There, no more free show for 'Doctor Reg.'”
Her tone implied laughter, so I smiled again. She wasn't rejecting me after all.
“I notice you updated the television.”
Doctor Reg's eyes got wide a moment. Curious, I tried to widen my eyes too. It seemed to work.
“Well, can't have her waking up to some CRT monstrosity. I went with the LCD a while back.”
Nurse Gracie made a tsking noise. Curious about that too, I tried to imitate it. That one didn't work too well.
“You know, you could have just asked me, I mean I do live here, you know. I dust the place every week. It wouldn't have been a problem to keep her closet up to date.”
Doctor Reg muttered something again. I didn't catch that phrase either; instead I widened my eyes again.
“Whatever you old skinflint; It's not your money anyway, and I'll go tomorrow.”
I noticed a problem. The clothes were not warm. Nurse Gracie had said they would be but I was still cold. I quit staring at the television (which couldn't really be a television, after all it just wasn't big enough) and walked (or stumbled) over to nurse Gracie.
“No warm.”
That wasn't quite right, and I knew it. She looked over, and I looked up into her eyes, plucking on my clothes.
“No warm?”
“Oh, I'm sorry Mary, it will warm up in just a little bit. It will trap your body heat.. ' She steadied me with one hand while reaching down to my head. 'which of course you don't have. I should have known. Alright then, it's time to get some heat in here.”
Doctor Reg did the wide eyed face again.
“But it's August!”
Nurse Gracie whirled around so fast I almost ran into her; luckily the hand she was using to steady me with didn't move much. I wanted to see her face but I couldn't. Her voice sounded scary though; a bit growly.
“She's cold, Reginald. Your friend, the focus of your entire life, is awake and cold.”
Doctor Reg ran a hand through his hair and blew out air. I mimicked him, and he smiled at me. I'd done it right! I smiled back.
“Alright, it's a bit too early to be turning the heat on, but I'll start a fire in the fireplace. We'll just have to keep her away from it.”
“You think it'll be a problem?”
“She's essentially a kid again. I can see it cropping up, along with hot pans and looking both ways before crossing the street. Especially looking both ways before crossing the street.”
And then he was gone, out the door. I wanted to follow, but nurse Gracie stopped me.
“Don't worry, he will be back. He's just going to get some things to help you feel warm.”
They were both so nice to me. I wasn't even mad that nurse Gracie had been wrong about the clothes.
“So... do you recognize anything?”
Recognition was the identifying of something previously known or seen. Nurse Gracie wanted to know what I knew was mine. I pointed immediately to the Commander Zap.
“Zap.”
“You don't recognize anything else? Look around.”
I looked. I saw nothing I recognized, so I shook my head. Doctor Reg came back with his arms filled with wood. Nurse Gracie gave him an odd look.
He said with... something in his voice:
“I didn't want to turn the gas on without the lines being checked first.”
“When was the last time you used them?”
“Only last year, but no reason to take chances now.”
He piled the wood up and squirted it with something, then pulled out a long match and lit it. The result was captivating. Brightness was pouring from the wood, raising itself high. And the heat! The delicious waves of warmth were immediate. Doctor Reg put some sort of screen in the way before I could get close enough.
“Mary, no. That's fire, and it can hurt you if you get close enough.”
I stared at him. How could such light and warmth ever hurt me? Nurse Gracie took over.
“I've seen that look before. Mary, just trust us; and don't get too lose to the fire; it can... eat your body, and then you won't have one.”
I got as far away from the fire as I could get.
“Mary, it's OK, I didn't mean to upset you. Just stay behind the screen and it's perfectly safe.”
She stood in front of the fireplace and made motions with her hands. Doctor Reg joined her, holding his hands towards the brightness.
“I admit, it is a bit cold in here. It really shouldn't be.”
“You bought a castle, moved it stone by stone to America, and reconstructed it... and expected it not to have a castle's problems? Castles are always cold drafty things... or so I'm told.”
“It couldn't be helped; proper decorum and protocols had to be followed. Therefore the experiments demanded a castle.”
Nurse Gracie shook her head with an exhalation. I mimicked her.
“A drafty castle in the butt end of nowhere, with only the barest of amenities and equipment, is the last place you should be doing your experiments. Especially now that they have succeeded.”
“In part, at least.”
What was an experiment?
“Whaa..?”
They both turned to me, and I felt something I did not like.
“Go ahead Mary.”
I tried again, but it all went wrong when my face did not work right! I felt my mouth stretching and a sound like the one nurse Gracie made earlier come out.
“Oh, you're tired? Come on then, let's get you to bed.”
The bed was right there. I pointed to it.
“Yes, I think you're tired Mary. I know I am, and the doctor probably is. You should climb in the bed, and we can pick all this up in the morning.”
They wanted me to go back to the darkness.
“No.”
“Mary, what's wrong?”
How could I explain the cloying darkness, the mind numbing fear of nothing. The loss of self which even now meant I was less than I was. I couldn't ever go back to that pitch black, and crushing loneliness again!
“No. Darkness.”
Well that was a good start. I hoped. Nurse Gracie cocked her head.
“Darkness? What darkness?”
“Did you forget the lights Gracie?”
“No, not even once. She never spent a night in the dark.”
Doctor Reg looked angry.
“Good, because the last maid that left her in the dark regretted it.”
I made a noise. They didn't understand!
“No! No!”
How could I make them... oh I have it!
I put my hands over my eyes.
“No. Darkness.”
“Um, Gracie, did you understand that?”
“I think I did doctor. I don't think she wants to sleep.”
I nodded so hard I fell over.
“Well I suppose she doesn't have to if she doesn't want to....”
“Doctor, that's pretty irresponsible. One of us will have to stay with her; she could hurt herself or something. Or what if Fido woke up and she was outside her room?”
Doctor Reg put his hand on his chin. That seemed like a fine thing to do, so I did it too.
“A valid point, nurse Gracie. One of us will have to stay with Mary so she doesn't do something unfortunate. I think you just volunteered for overtime.”
Nurse Gracie looked over at my nodding, so I smiled.
“Now wait just a minute, doctor....”
“Unless you'd rather I stay with Mary, all alone.”
She turned back to the doctor very quickly. I tried to imitate that, but fell down.
“That's a pretty low blow doctor. Really low.”
He raised an eyebrow. I wasn't sure I had eyebrows, so I checked. Yep, they were there. I couldn't raise just one though. Moving things was hard!
“Alright, alright. Say, Mary, do you remember how to read? Do you remember what books are?”
I did not.
“What are you doing on the floor, Mary?”
“Fell.”
She helped me up.
“Well on that shelf there are books, you climb into bed and I'll go get one, and then I'll read it to you.”
Hmm. I carefully climbed onto the bed, but waited until nurse Gracie returned with a book. Then I placed myself on her much as I had before. I smiled at her, hoping she would smile back like last time.
“Warm.”
Doctor Reg made funny noises.
“Laugh it up doctor. Care to help me out here? She's stronger than she looks.”
“Oh no, nurse. I feel you have the situation well in hand. Unless you'd rather I be the one to stay with Mary, her body draped over mine....”
“Enough, no it's fine. Pig.”
What was a pig? I thought Doctor Reg was a doctor?
“Mary, if you aren't gentle, I'll get hurt. Then I won't be able to stay.”
I let go in a hurry, only laying there.
“That's better. Now I need my hands to read, so you'll need to let me move.”
I made sure I let her arms go. She covered us both with more clothes.
“Good night, Gracie, Mary.”
“Good night doctor.”
I wasn't sure how to say that, or what it meant, but I could smile, so I did. Doctor Reg left.
“No!”
“Mary, it's OK! He'll be back. We won't always be able to stay here all the time, but you won't have to be alone if you don't want to.”
I didn't want either of them to leave, ever. But Nurse Gracie was staying, and she said doctor Reg would be back. I loosened up again.
“Alright, now let's hear the tale of the cat in the hat, shall we?”
I drifted somewhere during the third story; they were wonderful, about other selves in other places... but for some reason I couldn't stay there.
I would have said it was the little darkness of before, but I wasn't alone. Nurse Gracie's presence had followed me there, and it was warm.
I came out of a comforting darkness to the bright warm light. I was not alone; nurse Gracie was there, under me; a comforting warm presence making strange sounds. They sounded almost like growling, but she was still in the darkness herself, so it couldn't be that.
However, she was still in the darkness, so I resolved to stay there, so she would not be alone in it. I remembered to be gentle, even when she moved a little. I did want to explore, to find Doctor Reg... but this was more important.
I didn't have to wait too long... at least I don't think I did.
“Gurgle... snerk....”
Nurse Gracie's eyes opened directly into mine, our noses touching. I smiled, happy now that she was finally out of the darkness, so I could explore. This did not seem to be the right reaction.
“Gahhh!”
She bounced her head off the top of the bed, shoving at me at the same time. While I was gentle, I wasn't about to move. Something in the darkness had scared her!
“The darkness?”
The books nurse Gracie had read before we succumbed last night had proven useful. From the cat in the hat to the sidewalk ending, they all used words like 'the' and 'and'. I knew I wasn't saying things right yet, but I was getting better. I would try harder today.
Nurse Gracie sat up, moving me.
“You can let go now Mary. We need to get up and face the day.”
Now that she was safe, I let go. How did someone face a day? Wasn't it all around?
“First thing is first Mary; we need to shower and get clean clothes. I used to give you baths before, but I think now we can let you do that on your own.”
She looked at me and I smiled.
“Well, mostly on your own. You stay here for now, OK? I need to get some of my clothes. I won't be gone long at all, then I'll teach you how to shower.”
I wasn't happy, but I waited. It was bright, there were things everywhere, and we were safe. To pass the time I explored more. The shelf full of dolls had soft things too, that I was sure I could hug without breaking them. So I picked one, a long eared creature, and tried.
It shrank under my hands, but grew again when I let it go. It did not break. It also had lines like the ones on my arms across it's face, arms, and legs. And it had a nice smile. It wore clothes like mine. I checked... I didn't have the long ears or the short tail either, so it was different after all.
“Found Stitch the rabbit, have you?”
Stitch the rabbit? What was that?
“Stitch the rabbit?”
“Yep, Stitch is her name, and a rabbit is what type of animal she is. Like we are humans, she is a rabbit. That's why she's different. Rabbits have long ears, large teeth, fur, and they hop around to move. The doc picked her up because she looked a bit like you, I guess. You can ask him when he gets up.”
Gets up? What was getting up?
“Now don't you worry about the doc, Mary. He'll be just fine. But we have to get clean before he gets up, otherwise he will try something nasty. And that won't be any fun for anyone.”
I remembered fun. That word evoked all kinds of fleeting sensations, or water, and sunshine, and laughter. It was an action which provided mirth. I couldn't really remember what the activities that led to the fun were, but I knew it was out there in many forms, and I'd discovered one last night.
Listening to nurse Gracie read had been fun.
“Come on Mary, you can take Stitch if you like. She's never had a bath either, and she's waterproof.”
Nurse Gracie took my hand and led me out of my room, and down the hall past the room designated as mine. Two doors over, she opened one. It led to a room smaller than mine, with a cold floor made of some form of white brick.
One section of the floor had a small wall with cloth in front of it. The other side had a table running the length of the room with indentations in it, two of them. There were... protrusions in front of those. Pipes? Something...
Nurse Gracie saw my look and turned something attached to the depression. Water came out of the pipe. At least I think it was water... it was clear like it. She turned the thing again and it stopped.
“Alright, now how we take a shower is first we undress.”
I dutifully took off my clothes as nurse Gracie did the same. She had more clothes than I, so it took her longer. Once done, she once again took my hand.
“Now we get into the bathtub.”
She took my hand again, and led me past the small wall. The floor and wall here were all the same thing. She then pulled the clothes for the 'bathtub' across so we couldn't see the room anymore. I watched as she did something to another thing like the first, and a pipe over our head start dripping water on us.
“Brr, too cold!”
Nurse Gracie kept playing with the... gear? And the water got warm. Then more than warm. Nurse Gracie turned to me with a smile.
“Much better. It's not too hot or anything is it? I like hot showers.”
It wasn't. I shook my head. I hadn't known water could be a source of warmth! Or had I? Was it another thing I had lost? It seemed to me that maybe I had... it seemed a simple thing to know. Those pipes couldn't be magic, could they?
The water felt so good across my body. Such a simple thing, but so wonderful. Though it seemed to do weird things too; I felt less... tense. I think that was right.
“Alright, now that the water is adjusted properly, we take our washcloth' she handed me a grey strip of clothes 'and wet it down with water, then take our soap here.”
She handed me a small brick of something that smelled very nice. The she took her small clothes and wrapped the brick in it, and moved it around. I did the same, and was rewarded with some sort of froth on my clothes. I looked, and it matched hers.
“Then we rub our bodies down with the washcloth, very gently, so the soap gets on us, and wipes all the dirt away.”
She started rubbing, watching me. So I started rubbing. It felt rather nice.
“That's right, just as gently as you held me last night. Almost no pressure at all.”
I started over, even more slow and gentle. I had to ask though.
“Not pain?”
“No Mary, you aren't supposed to feel pain doing this. Not even a little.”
I nodded, more to myself than to nurse Gracie. I had been right in my idea. Nurse Gracie did not like pain, so of course if she did something it wouldn't be to feel it. Feel is a good word to remember, I think. Nurse Gracie stopped me from rubbing my head though.
“Only your face for now... the front part. The top and back of your head are a different step. Well and your ears, but I think I need to show you where those are.”
She was right, I didn't know where ears were. Or even what they were. After I finished, I removed the clothes of, and rubbed down Stitch the rabbit too.
“Next step is hair. We take the shampoo here.' she held up a bottle of blue liquid. 'we put enough into our hand to coat our palm, like this, then we rub it into our hair, like so.”
I watched her as she rubbed the liquid into her head and the strings she called hair. So that was what it was. I wondered briefly why it was there. No doubt it served some purpose. I pondered as the expected froth appeared in her hair.
Nurse Gracie and I were the same in many general ways. We both had two arms, two legs, and a head. She had a protrusion on her face: I checked, I had one too. She was taller than I was, with lighter hair. She was bigger than I was in every way, but somehow I knew she wasn't fat. She had curious lighter patches on her, places where her skin was brighter than seemed normal for her. She also did not have strings in her limbs, like I did.
I had strings in my arms and legs, and in my um, main part. I even had them in my hands. They seemed to close up borders of me that were lined with black. I had lighter skin than nurse Gracie, but no patches. What I did have was faint lines of black visible, winding their way through me. Perhaps the same black that seemed to be holding parts of me together?
“Noticed, huh Mary? Yeah we both look different. I'll show you once we get done here if you want.”
Why did she seem sad? I nodded, I was curious. I found out all about curiosity last night; it was emotion, and I felt it about everything around me. That and it killed cats. I wanted to stop it from killing cats, that didn't seem nice at all. But in order to do that, I had to know my enemy.
She finished washing her head and rinsed the froth out of her hair, and I started my own. Nurse Gracie ended up helping me, and showing me where my ears were. Then I did Stitch the rabbit's head. With our first shower (named after a rain shower maybe?) done, nurse Gracie pulled out a bigger clothes/washcloth and patted herself dry.
While I did that for myself and Stitch, she sat on a weird chair; I heard liquid dripping. It was coming from her! Had she taken too much water from the shower? It came from a small hole between her legs. I had the same kind of hole, was I supposed to leak like that too? If so, why wasn't I? She saw my look.
“Perfectly normal thing Mary. And no, you probably won't need to. You're a little different.”
She dried that area off again with an even smaller clothes she ripped from some sort of bin to the side of the chair, and then clicked another gear thing, that caused all the liquid in the chair to vanish. I was entranced again. Where had it gone? Then it filled up again!
“No, you shouldn't stick your hand in the toilet Mary.”
“But....”
“The water went down the hole, yes. It's supposed to, and ends up in a big river underground. But hands and arms can't go down the hole Mary, and you just cleaned yourself. It wouldn't do to get dirty again, and the toilet is filthy.”
The chair (toilet?) looked clean to me, but nurse Gracie knew more, so I deferred to her wisdom. Stitches the rabbit did not seem to need to make water either, as she had no hole for it. For that matter, if my hole wasn't used for that, what was it used for?
“That's not a very nice or polite thing to do Mary. When you're around other people, even just me, you're in public, and it's not a good thing to touch yourself that way in public. Now watch, we need to put on our clothes.”
I stopped, and watched. This interacting with other selfs was hard. They had so many rules!
Clothes called panties went on first, right over the area with the hole. Then a piece called a bra went on next; hooked around my 'waist' then pulled up. Then there was another dress. Nurse Gracie called it a 'sundress', but I saw no sun in it. Then came foot coverings called 'socks' and 'shoes'. Apparently these clothes protected feet from damage. Nurse Gracie said so, and I had no reason to doubt her so far.
The clothes nurse Gracie wore were different; where my dress was white, hers was black with a white piece in front. She wore larger socks that covered her legs, and a hat. I knew all about hats from the cat last night, and she was definitely in a hat. Her shoes were bigger, black, and hard, where mine were gray and soft.
“Alright Mary, I'm going to show you yourself, as I promised.”
She pulled me in front of a wall, then moved a panel and there we were. Rather, Nurse Gracie was there in both places, and someone who had to be me was there with her.
The person had hair so black it was blue, or so blue it was black, with some white on either side of her face. Like the rest of her, her face was smaller than Gracie; I pointed to my face protrusion, and the person did the same. It WAS me! There were two of me somehow!
“That's your nose.”
I pointed lower.
“That's your mouth.”
I moved my hair a bit, and there were my ears; looking just as weird as they felt. I knew what eyes were, and while nurse Gracie's eye was blue, mine were a dark yellow, and had more of those lines in them. I didn't have clothes for one of my eyes like she did.
In fact, my face continued the line trend, showing it's own share of the same dark lines. It also had more of those lines of string; one line per side, and they weren't in the exact same place; I don't know why, but that bothered me a little. I touched one.
“Those are stitches. Like what your Stitches the rabbit is named after.”
The other I's eyes widened. They were stitches! Like Stitches the rabbit had! And like Stitches the rabbit, they had the same function... they were to keep me together! I had been right!
“Stitches!”
When I spoke, my mouth moved. I could see things within.
“Those are teeth.”
I grabbed something in there.
“That's your tongue, you use it to talk.”
I let it go.
“Teeth for...?”
“Eating. Most people need to eat to survive. We aren't sure if you do yet.”
Why did she look so... uneasy?
I didn't want to eat anything. After all, eating was like fire... if I eat a thing, it'll be gone, won't it? If it's gone, it will never exist again, right? Causing anything to simply not be anymore was an idea so abhorrent to me I couldn't express it.
Nurse Gracie had to grab my hand to snap me out of it. She had a weird look, and started to lead me down the hall. I had to try.
“Won't.”
“You won't what Mary?”
“Mary won't eat.”
“The correct term when referring to yourself is 'I'. And why won't you eat?”
“Eating is bad.”
“....what? Mary, what do you....”
A new voice interrupted nurse Gracie.
“If she won't eat, does that mean I can eat her? She smells really tasty.”
Nurse Gracie put her face in her hands while I looked around for the source.
“Just perfect, all I need right now. Go away, Fido.”
The aforementioned Fido dropped... from the ceiling. He was on four legs, all patches of scabrous fur and diseased looking skin. He had a long face, mostly mouth filled with long sharp teeth that seemed too big for him. His eyes, dark and shot through with red lines, did not seem to look the same direction. Fido was a... dog?
“You know you can't eat her Fido, she's off limits. Expressly forbidden by the doc himself.”
“But I get to eat all the doc's experiments eventually.”
“Not this one, and you know it.”
“Sigh. She smells so wonderful too. Barely even dead at all!”
I wasn't sure I followed this discussion, but he wanted to eat me. So he must be a bad dog. I resolved to stay away from him, which of course meant I had to keep nurse Gracie away from him too, since she was holding on to me.
“Come on Mary, we have to get to the kitchen and start breakfast; don't worry about Fido, he won't eat you.”
Fido gave a rather strange grin.
“Come on Mary, he won't hurt us.”
Nurse Gracie pulled me past Fido, who stepped aside to let us pass. Then he started following.
“Alright, so tell me Mary, why is eating bad? Almost everyone has to eat something to live.”
How to explain this?
“If you eat, it's gone. Fire eats, and Mary is gone. So eating is bad.”
Nurse Gracie nodded slowly.
“That does make a certain amount of sense, given what you know.”
Fido, that jerk, just laughed.
“Oh, kiddo, you are precious.”
“Alright, to start with, fire is indiscriminate; it eats anything it can. Living creatures can be more choosy. For example, we are going to the kitchen to cook breakfast for myself and doctor Reginald. We won't be eating anything alive.”
“Just a few things that used to be alive.”
“Shut up Fido, you aren't helping. Yes Mary, some of the things we eat were alive. But they aren't anymore when we eat them... hmm, how to put this. I know! The things we eat have no self in them. They are things that are not people in any way.”
Well that was something, but I still wasn't sure I approved. Nurse Gracie swept open a door then let my hand go.
“Anyway this is the kitchen. Shut the door please, while I get started.”
Fido walked in faster than I could shut the door, so I settled for watching him. And of course, inching away slowly. Then I noticed. He had stitches too! I still had Stitches the rabbit. We were all similar!
“Fido has stitches.”
Nurse Gracie was in buried in another door; some sort of cabinet. She began taking things out of it.
“Yes he does. He is like you that way. For that matter, many things around here are like you in that way.”
“Nurse Gracie doesn't.”
Fido spoke up again.
“Ha. Nurse Gracie, is it?”
“Sure... I am trained as a nurse, and I am her nurse after all.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Gracie.”
How would being a nurse help nurse Gracie sleep at night? What was sleeping at night? I wasn't sure what was going on! Fido had a smile, but it didn't seem like a nice smile, and nurse Gracie's own smile seemed less happy somehow than earlier.
“Good morning.”
Doctor Reg!
“Doctor Reg!”
“Mary! Ouch! Not so hard please. Good morning, did you sleep well?”
He turned to nurse Gracie.
“Did she sleep well?”
There it was again, this sleep thing. Nurse Gracie nodded.
“We both did actually, though it took her a while to go under; she resisted it for a good hour. Once she understood the rules she was very careful about following them.”
Fido chimed in again.
“What's this, the princess has been awake since yesterday and no one bothered to inform me? The princess was sleeping? With Gracie? How does that even work? What gives, doc?”
Doctor Reg sat down at the table as nurse Gracie got out some metal containers and put them on a cabinet with fire in it. She then put the things she got our of the first cabinet in the containers on the second. She was very close to the fire.
“Doctor Reg, fire.”
“It's alright Mary, nurse Gracie knows what she is doing.”
I turned to Fido, still with his grin. I hadn't forgotten what he said!
“Who is princess?”
“Why you are, princess.”
I shook my head. That wasn't my name! I pointed to self.
“Mary.”
Doctor Reg gave Fido a look. I don't think it was a nice look, but I can't be sure.
“Yes Fido, her name is Mary. Calling her anything other than her name may confuse her, at least for now. Antagonizing her may earn you a spot in the Kennel. I expect you and Mary to be good friends, with all the things that implies. And no eating her, any part, for any reason.”
I smiled. Doctor Reg was on my side!
“Gotcha doc, I'll play nice. But you've got to help me out here, her smell alone is killing me! Again....”
“I'll see what I can do.”
I had another question, now that the important eating one was resolved.
“What sleep?”
Nurse Gracie corrected me, while still doing weird things.
“What is sleep, Mary. That's what you mean to say.”
I beamed at her. I'd forgotten that word.
“Sleep is that activity that is a lack of activity.”
Nurse Gracie turned to doctor Reg and gave him another look I couldn't read.
“That explanation was clear as mud, doctor. What doctor Reg means to say, is sleep is a word for the darkness we both were in last night, after we closed our eyes.”
Sleep was another enemy then, and far more dangerous than curiosity.
“how was she last night? She didn't... do anything?”
“No, she was very well behaved. She was just distraught. With me there, she settled right off. How did you sleep Mary? You didn't seem afraid.”
I wasn't.
“Nurse Gracie was with Mary. So Mary was happy.”
Fido muttered something about sugar I did not quite hear. Which made me wonder what sugar was.
“As for why Mary needed sleep, I'm not sure. It indicates she does at least have some biological processes, which validates my work thus far.”
Fido looked intent.
“So, she's a success?”
Doctor Reg answered, equally intent.
“Absolutely. Mary is unequivocally a success.”
What was unequiv – that word?
“Darn. OK doc, you made your point. So what can a growing puppy get to eat around here?”
“It's almost done, just relax.”
“Smells wonderful as usual, Gracie.”
“Thank you doctor.”
I had to tell doctor Reg about my earlier conclusion.
“Eating is bad.”
I smiled; this time I hadn't forgotten a word! I was pretty sure I'd used it correctly. Fido was not impressed.
“You still on about that?”
Doctor Reg spoke before I could ask what 'on about' meant.
“What do you mean, Mary?”
Nurse Gracie put a plate down in front of doctor Reg; it was filled with nice smelling things.
“Fire eats, remember doctor? Eats and then those things are gone? Well Mary remembers.”
Doctor Reg made a face.
“Alright, alright, I'll handle it. Come here Mary.”
He got up, so I followed. He opened the cabinet nurse Gracie had been in earlier, and removed a small box.
“These are eggs. They are cooked, like the ones on my plate.”
He opened the box, and some small things that weren't quite round greeted my vision.
“Can you tell me how many there are?”
I thought. There were more than one, but the box wasn't full. Counting was something dimly remembered, but how to count wasn't entirely clear anymore. So I took a guess.
“Eight?”
“Close Mary, there are six left. And when we are done eating those, there will be another box. See the other box?”
He pointed, and I nodded.
“We will never run out of eggs in the world Mary, there are always more. When we run out here, we can always go to a store for new ones. The same is true for everything in here. The eggs, the milk, the bacon, the beef...”
“Meats might be considered a slightly different case, doctor.”
“Shh, Gracie, I'm handling it. The point it, Mary, that we never eat anything that there isn't more of. There is only one you in the entire world, and only one me or Gracie. Which would be why eating us is bad; we could never be replaced. Do you understand?”
I nodded, solemn. It made a lot of sense. But it also raised another question. I pointed to Fido.
“Fido?”
The doctor grinned like Fido did.
“Oh he's replaceable, I think I could make another one, but the problem is he'd taste bad so no one would want to.”
“Har de har har, doc.”
Wait, what was that word? Taste? What was that?
“What is taste?”
Doctor Reg looked odd for a second.
“Taste is another sense. It's kind of like touch. It's the fifth. You do it with your mouth and tongue.”
I tasted nurse Gracie. She tasted good. Very good. She backed away, making it hard. So I followed.
“Doctor....”
“Relax Gracie, she's only licking you. She's anti eating, remember?”
“Right, right sorry. It's just that after last time, I'm kind of leery of another Romero incident.”
“You taste good. Tasting is nice.”
“Um, thanks, I think.”
I went to taste doctor Reg. He didn't move, and let me. He tasted stale somehow, dirty.
“You taste bad, doctor Reg.”
I went to taste Fido. But his words stopped me.
“Sorry kiddo, you really shouldn't taste me, I'll taste worse than the doc, easily.”
“Ick.”
“Yeah right, Mary. Ick indeed.”
Doctor Reg got something out of the fridge; it was a small thin glass filled with something dark.
“Here Mary, taste this.”
“Doctor....”
“Relax Gracie, she had some before, remember? There should be no difference between injection and ingestion.”
“But we're heading into the Romero zone here....”
What was Romero, and what was a zone?
“Here Mary, drink this.”
Doctor Reg popped the top out of the tiny glass and handed it to me. I put it in my mouth.
“No, don't chew it! Just tilt your head back, that's it. Now let me have the test tube back, that's right.”
I let him take the small glass back. Apparently I wasn't supposed to taste it all, just the liquid inside.
“Did she...?”
“No, she didn't break it. Her mouth shouldn't be damaged.”
The liquid was salty, heavy tasting, and had a faint tang of metal. It was glorious. It tasted way better than even nurse Gracie! Food was amazing! There was only one word for such a treat!
“Good!”
I grinned. Doctor Reg looked happy, but for some reason nurse Gracie did not. She turned to her own plate.
“More?”
“Sure, that can be arranged.”
“Doctor, are you sure that's a good idea?”
It worked in conjunction with the electricity last time, and she's had to have run out by now. After all we only injected a pint.”
My lower body made a growling noise. It was loud and sounded angry. Nurse Gracie jumped, looking very uneasy.
“See? She's just hungry.”
Nurse Gracie started picking at the things on her plate. She looked sad. Why was she sad? I decided to take a guess. After all, it had been so good.
“Mary will share.”
She looked even worse, if anything.
“Oh Mary, I can't eat what you do. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so startled. Let me finish mine, and we'll get you all fixed up, alright?”
I nodded and sat down to wait as nurse Gracie and doctor Reg ate. Doctor Reg tried to get me to eat some of his, but it didn't smell as good as what he gave me from the cold cabinet, so I decided to wait. Nurse Gracie finished, then doctor Reg did, and he drank some brown liquid while nurse Gracie took the dishes and put them into a depression like the ones in the bathroom. What was she doing?
“What?”
“Oh, Mary, I'm doing the dishes. I clean them with soap too, just like cleaning us. That way they are clean for the next time.”
She even washed my small glass, after everything else. Fido did not eat anything, he just watched us with his grin.
“Alright, so let's get Mary's stomach taken care of, and then we can see about doing interesting things all day.”
I cheered. Fido woofed. Nurse Gracie gave a smile.
“OK so Mary, in order to get your food I need to go to the cellar lab. You can come with me, or you can help nurse Gracie clean the house. Which do you want to do?”
Food or helping nurse Gracie? Wait, if I went with nurse Gracie I'd get both, right? I ran over to her, only stumbling once.
“Nurse Gracie!”
“Alright kiddo, let's start right away then. This drafty old castle is a big place.”
“Alright, you made a good choice Mary, I'll see you soon.”
When doctor Reg got up to leave, Fido followed him.
“Alright Mary, now let's get started. This' she pulled out some sort of weird puffy stick ' is a feather duster. This one is clean, and what you do with it is, you gently rub it over all the exposed surfaces in a room to remove all the dust build up. We will start in your room to give you an idea of what cleaning entails.”
Cleaning has tails? And when did we use soap on the rooms?
Cleaning my room seemed to be simple. I would dust, and nurse Gracie would sweep with a long puffy stick (longer than mine) called a broom. I guessed to get the dust on the floor. Then she would plug in a machine called a 'vacuum' to remove the dust from the slightly warmer clothes the floor wore called a 'rug'. I briefly wondered why clothes worked for the floor, but not me.
I only had a few accidents with the duster; nurse Gracie was kind enough to show me how to use the feather duster, lightly holding my hand and running me through the motions, and the strength involved. Luckily I did not break anything; I'd have felt bad if I had. Putting a line in miss Callie's face (a 'doll', not a 'plushie', I was told) was bad enough!
So my accidents were more knocking things around after that, and by the time we got out of my room I resolved to be even more gentle!
The next room we went to was the library; it was a home for books, and there were so many! I couldn't wait till I could read them all! We were cleaning up there, nurse Gracie with her 'broom' and me with my feather duster, when doctor Reg found us again.
He had brought an entire bag of the red stuff with him, with something sticking out of it.
“Here you go Mary, be careful, OK?”
I took the bag, it was warm. I knew somehow if I squeezed to hard it would throw the stuff everywhere and make a mess, so I held it from the bottom. It was warm.
“Alright, this' he pointed to the thing sticking out of the bag 'is a straw. To you close your mouth around it, and act like you're going to talk to get it to work. You don't actually talk though, you just keep acting like it. An if you need to you stop and take a break. Watch me, OK?”
I nodded, and he took a small bag of his own with bright colors on it and put a 'straw' into it. Then he put his mouth to it and his chest and face expanded. He stopped, and then spoke again.
“Now you try.”
Nurse Gracie made a noise as I put the straw to my mouth. I managed to do it, but then I felt full and couldn't do it anymore. It felt almost like it wanted to come back up, but I wouldn't let it, it was too good for that! Even better warm than cold!
I couldn't stop a little bit of it coming out though; the stuff that was in my mouth at the time.
“Just great, I knew it. Drinking it would be much less messy.”
Now Nurse Gracie was mad.
“Only until she gets used to the straw. This way will be much easier in the long run.”
How could I make it up to her?
“Try again Mary. Take in less this time, then stop.”
I did so while nurse Gracie walked out. I couldn't talk, so I pointed at her.
“Oh she's just getting something to clean up the new mess. Don't worry she will be back.”
When I could talk again I had a question.
“Was Mary bad?”
I knew from the books last night that bad people did bad things, and made other people angry. I didn't want to do that.
“No Mary, you were not bad. You didn't do anything wrong; it was probably my fault in fact, for not having you try this in the kitchen or over a sink. I think if we both apologize, we will avoid the wrath of mount st Gracie with ease.”
Fido snorted.
“Yeah good luck with that, she still hasn't forgiven me for the pumpkins.”
Pumpkins?
“What is apologize? What is pumpkins?”
Doctor Reg got down so we were looking into each other.
“Apologizing is what you do to someone you feel you have wronged. Like now, you feel that you made nurse Gracie angry, even if you're not sure why?”
I nodded.
“Well when you feel like that, just like you do now, you say 'I'm sorry' to the other person. If they are a nice person, they will accept your words and not be angry anymore. Or at least as angry. Do you understand?”
I nodded again.
“Pumpkins?”
Doctor Reg looked uneasy now.
“A type of food, and also used for other things. I'll let nurse Gracie explain that one, alright?”
I nodded. Then looked at the floor, spattered with the red stuff. I wanted it. I was full, I think, at least the lower part of me wasn't making noises, but I still wanted it. Doctor Reg stopped me though.
“No, Mary. We don't eat things on the floor. If we did that, nurse Gracie would become much more angry at us than she is now. Only Fido is allowed.”
I looked at Fido.
“Sorry Mary, not my type of food. I appreciate the offer though – it warms the cockles of my cold dead heart.”
Cockle?
Just then nurse Gracie came back with a bucket filled with weird smelling water and soap. She had clothing for her hands, and was muttering things. I wanted to hug her, but I didn't want to cause her to drop her new supplies.
“Nurse Gracie! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry....”
“Hey relax Mary, take a breath! I forgive you, OK? Besides it wasn't your fault.”
As soon as she set her things down I took the chance, hugging her.
“Sheesh, lighten up a little, I can't breathe here. Besides, like I said, it's not your fault. I'm not mad at you.”
“Yes, I know, we should have done this in the kitchen, I'm sorry too.”
“Help?”
No Mary, you can't help me. You need gloves' she pointed at her hand clothes 'for this and I don't have any your size. This water can hurt you if you aren't careful, even with gloves. If you want to help, go back to dusting, please.”
I went back to dusting. After some time doctor Reg spoke to nurse Gracie, who was still cleaning the floor.
“So M is interesting.”
“Oh? The sensors are actually working?”
“Of course, and we have full data feeds recorded starting from the event onward. Full scans too, with environmental variance within acceptable levels. The chip is working too. Seems there was a doubling of M's mass from the first jolt to last night. It seems electricity was the key after all.”
“But why? That doesn't make any sense.”
Who was 'M'? Well it wasn't me, I was Mary. So they must be talking about another self that I didn't know of yet.
“It makes perfect sense. With M being dead, there were no mitochondria. No cells producing power. Some power was coming from the fresh plasma, and no doubt continues too, but that doesn't last. The real power came from, well, power. While the mass growth came from the conversion of plasma to active cells.”
“So it really was just as you theorized.”
“You don't have to make that sound so unusual you know, I'm right very often!”
I could see nurse Gracie roll her eye clearly from where I was standing. That looked kind of fun, but I would try later. I was helping now.
“Suuuure you are. So how long do you think M will be fooled by this ruse?”
“Couldn't say, it could be some time, or tomorrow. That M is a sharp one.”
“Well, I need to go into town after we finish up here. The day is marching on, and I'd like to be back before dark, so the usual routine will have to suffer an interruption or two.”
“I don't mind. Clothes and what else?”
“Think we should stock up on food too, We can't keep Mary indoors forever, and once we let her out everything’s going to start. I also think we should call the geezers. Not only do we owe them a call, it might be good cover later.”
“I agree with all that, it's just annoying dealing with their interference. You sure you won't take protection?”
“I'll be seen as a threat if I do. I'm just barely tolerated in town now, showing up with protection will make me a threat.”
“Alright, well be careful. I'm off to the lab again. Be good Mary, I'll be back later, alright?”
That last bit was directed at me. I didn't want doctor Reg to leave again, but he seemed to leave a lot, and he always came back. He gestured with his hand at me, and I caught on and mimicked it. He smiled and left.
“Dust Mary, we have to finish all these shelves soon! Remember to be careful!”
I dusted.
The feather duster did not taste good. The broom didn't either. I added those two to my growing list of tastes when nurse Gracie had her back turned. She had already told me not to taste the books. But what she didn't see, she couldn't tell me not to do.
“Alright Mary, we're done in here. I need to go into town, so we're going to find Randolph. Would you like to meet a new friend?”
I nodded and almost fell down from it again. The more selfs other than I, the better!
Randolph lived a few doors down from the library. Nurse Gracie knocked and waited. A muffled voice came from the other side, sounding deep, like doctor Reg, but not quite.
“It's open.”
But it wasn't open, the door was closed! This Randolph person was weird!
Nurse Gracie went in, leaving it open. I shrugged and knocked on the door. This time the voice was clear and loud.
“Come in!”
I came into a dimly lit chamber, more dim than the other rooms I'd seen in the daytime. Day time had been explained to me by nurse Gracie as we worked; it was the time when the Sun was in the sky. Randolph was in his bed, and he was wrapped up in clothes from his head to his feet.
Not the clothes I was used to either, they were strips that covered all but his brown eyes and black hair. They were colored red in places, and were on under the types of clothes I was used to; Black 'bottom clothes and white top clothes He also had a coat hanging from a chair.
That's not fair, I wanted different color clothes too!
“Good morning!”
Nurse Gracie shook her head.
“No Mary, this late, with the sun shining from that direction, see it? This late it's good afternoon.”
OK. Why was it like that? No time for that now, I wanted to be nice.
“Good afternoon!”
“So this is our mysterious benefactor? Good afternoon, Mary was it?”
“Yes, Mary!”
“I'm Randolph. Pleased to meet you.”
He held his hand out. I looked at it, curious. What did he want?
“You shake his hand, Mary, like this.”
Nurse Gracie demonstrated, grabbing Randolph's hand and moving it up and down twice. I could do that.
“Now, gently Mary, Randolph isn't every strong.”
I did so, being extra careful. Once I got close, I could smell him. He smelled of some chemical and food.
“This is a traditional way of greeting someone when first meeting them. It's a polite thing to do... and we will cover being polite later, when I have the time.”
“She's fairly....”
Nurse Gracie interrupted what Randolph as going to say.
“No she isn't. She's just been asleep a long time. Longer than you've been alive. She has forgotten much, and needs to relearn. She's actually very smart.”
What was smart? And a more important question, why did Randolph talk differently?
“Randolph talks....”
“Yes, Mary, what is it?”
“Talks no like nurse Gracie!”
She looked at Randolph, who did not look nice at me.
“That's: 'Randolph does not talk like nurse Gracie', Mary. When Randolph and I do things differently, that is how you say it.”
“Yes, Mary, I have an accent.”
I took the chance to taste him, since he was still close. I still had his hand in mine, so it was easy.
“Mary, that's not polite!”
“What is she doing, Gracie?”
He tasted like something that made my tongue feel funny and, very faintly, of food. Or his clothes did, at any rate. I stopped because nurse Gracie didn't like it. I didn't want to make her mad at me, then she might leave me alone!
“She's tasting you. She just learned about taste this morning, and she's been trying to taste everything she can.”
I wondered what an accent was, and why it affected speech.
“... I'm sorry?”
Nurse Gracie shook her head, but smiled.
“It's alright Mary, but you can't just taste people. It isn't polite at all. And we will be talking about what being polite means when I get back. Randolph, I leave her in your capable hands. Be back soon, Mary.”
And nurse Gracie left to do things. I still wasn't sure where she was going. Somewhere else in the 'castle', perhaps? After all that was where doctor Reg went when he left.
“Hey, don't leave me alone with her!”
I looked at Randolph expectantly; I knew he was going to do something interesting, and I didn't want to miss any of it, whatever it was.
“So, um... Mary, you tasted me, what do I taste like?”
“a weird taste and food.”
He looked at me oddly.
“Food, huh? You aren't hungry are you?”
Hungry?
“What is Hungry?”
He put his head in his hands.
“Hungry is when you want food. Your tummy', he pointed at my lower half. 'makes noise sometimes.”
“Oh! Mary was hungry earlier then, but Mary is not now. Why?”
“It's nothing, nothing at all. So Mary, what do you like to do?”
Do? What did I like to do? Had I even done anything? What were the options? I looked around desperately, I didn't want to make my new friend mad at me either, and this seemed very important! I saw lots of dark furniture, a sort of mirror, with a stereo under it, a book, and not much else.
Wait, a book!
“Mary likes to read.”
He looked... surprised?
“Oh you do, do you? Well I do have some books handy, do you have a preference?”
What was a 'preference'?” Taking a chance, I shook my head.
“Well then Hemingway it is.”
He handed me the book. I looked at it, and opened it up, but I couldn't make it work.
“Oh for heaven's sake. You can't read, can you?”
I shook my head.
“...I'm sorry?”
Randolph put his head in his hands again.
“Then why did you say you... ahh, I get it. Gracie reads to you, and you listen, right?”
I nodded and smiled as hard as I could.
“Alright, I guess we can do that. Take a seat... no wait, that's just asking for an old gag to be played at my expense. Sit down on the bed Mary, and I'll read to you.”
I sat, and he did. The story was of an old man fishing in the ocean. I wasn't sure I understood everything, but he worked hard to catch a big fish, then to protect it from other fish that wanted to eat it because they were greedy and didn't want him to have any. It was a long story, and it was sad, and made me sad.
Randolph shut the book suddenly; it made a snap sound.
“Mary, are you crying?”
What was crying? Randolph touched my eyes.
“Hmm, no tears. Mary, are you sad?”
I remembered sad well. I was sad when in the darkness, among other things. And yes I was very sad.
“Sad story.”
“Yes it is, I'm sorry. I should have read you something happier. I didn't realize....”
“What is crying?”
Randolph blinked, slowly. That looked like fun too; so many fun things to do with eyes!
“Crying is, hmmm... crying is leaking water from your eyes, if you're sad enough.”
You could leak water from your eyes too?!? So much to do with eyes!
But when I checked, I wasn't doing it.
“Hah. You're pouting now. You want to be able to cry?”
I thought about it, then shook my head. Who wanted to be sad enough to cry? I just wanted to be able to leak water from somewhere. I mean I didn't use my hole, and now everyone else could leak water from their eyes but me.
“Good girl, I don't like crying either. If I cried I'd likely never stop.”
What did Randolph have to be sad about? I hugged him – gently – so he wouldn't be sad. Being together, being able to feel, makes everything better. The door opened.
“And what's going on here, hmm?”
Nurse Gracie was back!
“Nurse Gracie!”
I remembered at the last minute to be gentle when hugging.
“Oof! Hey there Mary, I missed you too.”
What was missed?
“Missed you.”
“So errands all completed?”
“Sure are. Thank you for keeping Mary occupied.”
Randolph shook his head.
“She's quite... clingy, isn't she?”
“I think she has some cause. Come on Mary, you can let go now, I need to move. So what did you do while I was gone?”
“Mary read with Randolph!”
“Oh you did? What did you read with Randolph?”
Randolph was making weird gestures with his hands; I didn't understand.
“Hemingway. An old man and an ocean.”
“That's 'The old man and the sea', Mary. Randolph read that, did he? And what did you think of it?”
That look nurse Gracie was giving Randolph was scary, somehow.
“I think it was sad.”
She looked at me for a moment like she was at Randolph, and I made myself smaller. Then she shook her head and smiled, and everything was all right again, so I smiled back.
“You're lucky Randolph. I don't think she understood it.”
Randolph shook his head.
“We never reached the ending, it's too long for that. She understood what she heard well enough.”
They were talking about me; I just knew it.
“Well let's see. Mary, let's let Randolph do his own thing for now, and you can tell me all about it.”
That was a terrible idea!
“No. Randolph does Mary's thing.”
“Oh, you want him to come along?”
I nodded really hard, but I learned a few things from this morning. I didn't make myself fall over this time.
“....really clingy. Mary why do you want me to come along?”
“Mary does not want Randolph to be alone.”
Randolph gave me a soft look, and nurse Gracie hugged me for some reason. I returned it; hugs are always good. The more the better!
“I'll tell you what Mary, I'll make a deal with you. If you can get that chair through the door and into your room without breaking it or anything else, I will go with you, and stay while you and Gracie do whatever it is you will do. Alright?”
I nodded really hard again, and looked at the chair. It was large, dark, and soft, with a nice feeling to it. I picked it up, very gently, and tried to move it through the door. It was too wide. It would never fit! How had it gotten in here in the first place? Had it been built here?
No, nurse Gracie said the castle had been moved here, so wouldn't the chair have been too? Was it built after the castle? It looked like it might be old. I tried it the other way; that way was even worse! What to do?
I set the chair down and used my arm to see how long the chair was all over. Then I did the same to the open door. There was no way! The chair was clearly bigger in all the ways that counted. It wasn't taller, that was it.
Wait... there was one other way it might work.
I took the chair and set it on it's side (gently) then I worked the tall part out the doorway first. Then the rest of it got moved so the tall part was off to the side, and the rest of the chair fit!
“Not bad, that didn't take her long at all. I know quite a few people that still don't catch on to that trick. The measuring was a nice touch.”
What was 'measuring'?
I picked the chair back up and marched proudly down the hall, then opened my door and did the same thing. It fit easily. Randolph clapped his hands, which looked like fun, so I did too.
“Alright Mary, put the chair upright in the corner there, and that's where I'll be.”
I gently set it down the right way, and Randolph plopped down in it with a sigh. Was something wrong? He caught my look, and somehow understood it.
“I'm fine Mary, I'm just a bit tired is all. Don't worry.”
Tired? What was that? I despaired of ever learning all of these things! But I had a good remedy for ba (maybe) things. I went and got Stitches the rabbit, and gave it to him.
“Stitches the rabbit will help.”
He looked dubious.
“Um, how will Stitches help?”
I corrected him. Nurse Gracie gave him the look. The new look I didn't like, at least when it was directed at me.
“Stitches the rabbit will help. She will be with you.”
“Alright Mary, if you're sure. I might get Stitches the rabbit dirty.”
I smiled at him.
“She gets clean!”
I turned back to nurse Gracie.
“Read time!”
Nurse Gracie shook her head, but grabbed a book.
“That's 'reading time' Mary. The present time action is 'reading'.”
“Reading time!”
“Alright Mary, I've got just the book.”
She sat on the bed; that wasn't right. I hugged her and helped her lay down, then snuggled for warmth.
“Oh my god... that's darn near... “
I looked up, Randolph was looking weird.
“Shut up, Randolph, or I'll put itching powder in your bandages.”
Randolph sank into the chair clutching Stitches the rabbit.
“I'll be good.”
I wasn't sure what was going on, but Randolph wasn't talking any more, so I settled back down to listen to nurse Gracie read.
…...................................................................................................................................................
I wiped my eyes on the back of a hand. Mary was once again in her room, on her bed, where coverage was of course the best; two cameras hidden in either wall corner and an entire suite of monitors built directly into the bed assured the absolute best coverage I could get.
A further precaution of cameras scattered throughout the castle and monitors of my own design in every doorway assured me I would get up to the minute information; they synced with the chip implanted within Mary herself to transmit all the data I could ever need on the processes going on within her.
How to make sense of it all, was up to me.
It pained me to be away from her; after all this time she was awake! She was better than I'd hoped, could have ever dreamed! Sure, she was childlike, missing much. But there was no reason to believe she would stay that way. After so much work, so much sacrifice, my friend was back.
If only her father were alive to see it. He had died last year, without knowing the results of our latest line of research. I dreaded the moment Mary would remember and ask the question. I half hoped she wouldn't, but I had mentioned her father to her last night.
She would not forget; I would not be that lucky.
Instead I poured myself into the research, the pure data. It was both as I predicted and stranger than I could have asked for.
Mary wasn't human; not anymore. The body I finally settled on to house her is perfect for her needs; I got so very lucky there. I almost considered calling the Knights of Purity in order to thank them personally, but that seemed in poor taste.
I did call Erica; I felt she deserved to know her donation had paid off well beyond most people's expectations. She had never doubted me, not even once. Even when everyone else called me a quack and smeared my good name.
Her essence was spreading throughout the corpse, taking over certain bodily functions and mimicking the function of organs. Last night it had spread through skin and muscle. This morning it had been in the stomach, greedily desiring more biological matter to feed it's growth. By tonight it would be in the heart and liver.
Would her heart beat once again?
I wasn't unduly worried about the lack of tear duct response, after all, the only thing currently moistening her eyes was her essence, and that would not allow itself to be removed in such a way. I had seen the black film under Mary's eyes last night purely by chance when she rolled her eyes at me.
Was it wrong to be excited about that? To see a life form that once was human, and is now so obviously not; to understand the significance of the process taking place, and be giddy as a schoolboy on the first day of summer vacation? I sure hoped not.
The readings were fascinating, and I could unravel their secrets for hours, but there was one other thing that they told me, that would have to be addressed. Fido leered at me from his bed in the corner of the lab.
“I know that face doc, what's the good news?”
“She's stable Fido. Absolutely 100% stable. No chance of a relapse as long as we feed her fresh DNA and electricity.”
“Electricity?”
“Yes, that was the missing element all along; she needed some form of energy to grow properly; she gathered some from mitochondria in fresh DNA we injected, but it wasn't enough. We tried radiation or all kinds, microwaves, other forms of DNA... when the answer was a good old fashioned jolt all along. Ironic, really, considering.”
“How did you figure it out?”
“Well a stroke of luck, actually. You know the body she's inhabiting, right?”
“Yeah. Pretty little thing, all cut up by some super villain or other trying to do the right thing.”
“Well let us give credit where credit is due; Slasher may have killed her with those force field blades of his, but the Knights of Purity helped in every way they could. I may yet send them an anonymous fruit basket.
At any rate, young Sarah Jacobs was an up and coming child superhero, an exemplar energizer as they rate things now. Not sure to what extent exactly, as this was the go go '80s, and testing wasn't formalized. Just like the laws at the time.
Well at any rate, she was able to store electricity, like a battery. She also had another power that no one had known of at the time, because it could only be detected after her death. Her body is simply immune to decay. Some exemplars are resistant to the bacteria and other forces of decay, and that phenomenon is well documented.”
I had to shake the terrible imagery of my childhood away; of my best friend, lying there rotting on the slab while his father and I watched what we had at first mistaken for a form of rot induced ichor drizzle from what was left of his ears.
“Sarah's body, however, released a coating throughout her cells that rejects cellular breakdown utterly. I still don't know how, though I can now replicate it to a certain degree of success. That breakthrough led to my self grafting skin.”
“You're babbling again doc.”
I took a moment to stare down my recalcitrant creation. He looked less than impressed, settling into his well known 'get on with it' pose.
“Right, well, Sarah's body was just lying there, with Mary injected inside. I'd already determined that the many other forms of energy we used hadn't hurt Mary, she was simply inert. So I thought; what was the harm? And tried to see if Sarah's body was still able to store electricity after death. Turns out it was, and that was the type of energy Mary needed to wake up.”
Fido cocked his head.
“Lucky; but how did you know it was working, enough to try it again?”
“The chip inside the body of course; it is built to handle such experiments, and provide data. I knew Mary was growing after the first jolt. After that it was simply a matter of providing another strong jolt every week, as much as the body could handle, and waiting for signs of awareness. I really didn't expect full animation so quickly though; it was quite surprising. Even more so is her mental growth, which seems to be just as rapid.”
I looked again at the chart showing her brain. The bed MRI worked perfectly, even if she moved. After filtering out Gracie, whose inner mysteries were already known to me, it showed a perfect image of Mary's dark brain, shot completely through with the essence of her. A full saturation already, just as I'd suspected.
The brain would have to be the first thing overtaken, after all.
“OK doc, I get all that, but then why roll her into the tower, and hit her with lightning? Why all the fake 'equipment' you ordered and carted up there?”
I snorted at him; didn't he understand anything?
“Because my dear Fido, proper formalities had to be observed. You might as well ask me why the castle at all, like Gracie does!”
Fido blinked, then stared at me in that infuriating way Gracie always does.
“Riiiighht, OK doc, I'll just be over here. You do your thing over there, where I don't have to worry about catching it.”
I replied in as lofty a manner as possible.
“You're a corpse dog, animated with the fruits of my research, Fido. You are already subjected to any crazy I might possess.”
“No need to risk fate. So did you call the geezers?”
Now it was my turn to sigh.
“Yes, I called my 'esteemed colleagues'. With any luck at all the representatives they send will both fall and break their necks getting off the plane tomorrow. They are taking one of the red-eye flights, and are due to arrive here at roughly 2pm. And of course they wish to congratulate – and by congratulate I mean destroy – my success. So you will need to be on your guard tonight. Full patrols, all night, no slacking. Understood?”
“Ya herr commandant. You really suspect them of hurting Mary? Just to be petty?”
“I have successfully, no matter how, breached the veil of death. I beat them at their own game, not once, but three times now. There are some that will not take that well.”
Fido sighed and laid down.
“Pity, she seems like such a nice kid. Too good for the circles we run in.”
I couldn't stop a nod.
“On that, dear Fido, I agree with you. But sacrifices had to be made to see Mary alive, and I do not regret paying any price for them. I just hope she understands, when she finally remembers.”
“If, doc, always an if there. Now shut up and let me get some peace. If I'm going to be patrolling I want some quiet right now.”
I gave a faint smile. Irascible creature, but I knew what he was saying. Take a break, relax. Be with your friend. You've earned the right.
With a desultory yawn, I came awake. I knew what time it was, of course. Sunset. It was always sunset when I woke, though that time could of course vary. That was the only thing about my routine that varied, it often seemed.
Rising from my coffin I found that annoying itch on my backside and scratched it. The doctor was strange, demanding I sleep in that thing, but it was surprisingly comfortable. The clothes were odd too, especially the cape and cloak. It was almost as if he wanted every day (or night) to be Halloween. The other experiments seemed to bear this out.
But the pay couldn't really be beat, so who was I to complain? Not like I could really find gainful employment anywhere else. Or the fringe benefits, without prosecution.
Donning my uniform, I started my shift; personal hygiene was moderately pointless; I only needed a quick splash of mouthwash to kill the bacteria there, and I had showered last night. Or maybe it was three nights ago. Either way it didn't matter; I had no one to meet, and no one to impress.
Well unless it was the doc, currently heading towards me in the hall. Perfect; just perfect. I really hoped he didn't notice the dark stain on my dress shirt.
Of course when he looked up, his eyes tracked right to it on their way to meet mine. Day was going pretty much as expected so far. Just like every other day, every other week, every other year....
“Phil, glad I ran into you.”
Wait, what? No chewing me out about my shirt? No 'act your age'? He actually approached and grabbed me, both hands on my shoulders. His face reflected... well manic glee, if I had to guess.
“She's awake, Phil. After all these years, she's finally awake!”
What?
“What, but.. how?!?”
He had never managed to make that corpse dance, in decades of trying. Some good had come of the attempts, including some promising leads on curing my condition, but his obsession had always struck me as well... obsessive.
That and vaguely pedophilic. I mean I was far from the poster child of sane, but wasn't doting on the corpse of a young girl considered a bit off? And that dog creeped me the hell out. At least I didn't have to deal with that thing.
I was also glad I missed out on what Grace called the Romero incident, along with much of the clean up. Just the amount I saw was enough to turn my stomach. And making my stomach turn was a bad idea. Grace was not happy when I added to the mess.
“The key was simple electricity! Not radiation, not solar power, not magic, not....”
“I get it doc, I do. So um... how's she doing?”
“Well she's fully up and about, with some minor loss of mobility and agility. The brain seems mostly intact, but her memory is spotty at best; almost complete amnesia. Both situations seem well on their way to correcting themselves.”
Again, what? I wasn't a doctor, but putting aside the fact that death was incurable, the brain damage should be incurable too, right? I mean she sat there, not even refrigerated, for decades. Even with no decay, the pathways should be well and truly screwed, right?
But maybe, to the guy who actually did cure death, it wasn't. Who was I to say?
“Um, how?”
“Well she's mostly doing it herself. She's learning again at a prodigious rate, and she had a bit of a foundation to draw on... but that's not really the important thing. She's awake, she's alive!”
Now there was the doc I knew and loved. I shrugged him off. None of this really mattered to me, I had the job to do.
“Just remember your end of the deal. Focus. Will this help my cure?”
He blinked and dragged himself out of la la land. I did not like the grin he brought back with him.
“Well it should, but that's not the important part. The important part is she needs help. Guidance. Friends.”
Anger and loneliness caused my bile to rise.
“Now, now, none of that. You haven't even eaten yet. Besides, I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. I won't order it. But you should give her a chance. Just not right now. The MADS have been informed and we need to batten down the hatches as it were. Plenty of time after your shift ends.”
And he clapped me on the back and left.
“Oh and by the way, you prefer the same sustenance.”
And he was gone. He couldn't mean... did he really? Well, it put the band aid on his arm in fresh perspective. Now that he mentioned it, he did say something about feeding her before, and how it seemed to cause a reaction. Was she like me, somehow? But that didn't make any sense!
The kitchen was empty, good. I hate Grace staring at me while I grabbed breakfast. Though to be fair, I liked Grace from afar. When she wasn't judging me, she had nice... assets. And with her skin condition cleared up, she looked great. A little mottled, but much better than when she arrived. Hopefully the doc would be able to do the same for that other poor bloke.
If he could then it might mean he was that much closer to solving my little problem. I was so sick of false promises and emptiness.
Nightly feeding ritual completed, I carefully threw the bag away and got ready. The brooch that let me bypass certain things was in place, and one weapon I carried was waiting by the door. Time to make my first round.
Just past the moat, the meadow surrounding the castle was well lit. But it had to be checked anyway, for modern jamming devices aimed at the camera or microphone network. Or for something foiling the motion detectors. Or the laser turrets. As always a thorough check (I couldn't slack off, the doc could be watching) took an hour, and revealed nothing.
Time for the fun part.
The forest was as always, spooky as hell. I don't know if the doc did something to it, or if it was always like this, but the trees seemed to close in as soon as I entered, blocking out as much light as possible. And reaching for me when my back was turned. I could feel the trees reaching for me. I hated this place.
Clutching my brooch, I checked the magical wards. All in place, none tripped, and no gaps in coverage. The defenses were, as always, perfect. Had been since the first mob. We were lucky there weren't any powered individuals mixed into that crowd, so very lucky. But at least that night hadn't been boring.
I'd worked here for decades, and that was the only night I'd had any excitement at all. Mostly my time was just dealing with this freaking forest.
Which seemed especially oppressive today. I couldn't wait to get out of here. Was that a wolf howl? Weren't wolves extinct this far east? Was Fido screwing with me again?
Already wound up too tight, I heard a noise, and was halfway towards the castle before I realized it was an owl. I really hope no one saw that. The camera network in the forest was spotty at best, so it was likely. The last time Fido had laughed at me for days. It took dressing him up in a pink dog vest complete with bows (he couldn't get it off without thumbs) to shut him up.
A quick tour of the somehow less spooky castle (even though the castle was designed to be spooky) showed all the doors intact, all the small little tripwires intact, and all the windows intact. Perfect, nothing going on. The doc was just paranoid, as usual. Though I suppose he had cause.
Time to settle in and watch the cameras.
The camera in the corpse's room was especially interesting. Grace was reading, and the corpse was snuggled against her but quite animated as they appeared to be talking. Randolph was even in the room, ensconced in that huge chair he loved from his room.
How had that little pipsqueak gotten that chair in there? It took both of us to move it last time. Maybe Grace had helped him, but that didn't make much sense either. Randolph's medical problems made it almost impossible for him to lift heavy objects now. Unless he lied to me. People did like lying to me often.
We didn't have the microphones turned on. Grace threw a fit about privacy, so now none of the inside mics were on unless we had reason to believe something unusual was going on. And I left them that way, curiosity or no, because Grace was scarier than Fido.
The cameras in the bathrooms hadn't lasted 2 hours past her arrival. Though the footage of her first time, before she found out about the security procedures, was amazing. And hidden safely inside the servers hard drive behind an innocuous file title, where he could see it again and again. Damn but I was pathetic.
But I was not pathetic enough to delete the file.
The doc came into view out of the camera's blind spot, holding something. It took a moment to realize is was one of those inane plush toys. The kind that were popular with children of all ages when I was a lad, but were now seen as beneath most children by age six. This one in particular was a bear, and he seemed to be trying to entice the bunny from the corpse's grasp.
She was having none of that however, though she seemed to be having quite the time wiggling it in response to the doc moving the bear, and making it hop around. It seemed to be quite the game. So there had to be brain damage after all, despite what the doc said.
Still, it looked as if they were all having fun. Of course if I were snuggled up against Grace, I would too. Crap, I needed to find a girl before it affected my job performance more than it already has. I especially needed to find one before my hidden stash of penthouses in the security office was discovered.
The distraction offered by camera six was not enough to keep me from putting at least one eye on the other cameras, which of course bored that other eye, because nothing ever happens here.
The ticking of the grandfather clock was the only accompaniment to my dubious entertainment. I was allowed to listen to music while on the job, but if I did, it sometimes drowned out the other noises I needed to hear. Like the clock chime, or Fido coming down the hall. When I was 'reading', hearing his almost silent padding my direction was a must; he'd turn me over to the doc or Grace in a heartbeat.
No need for my penthouses tonight though; I watched as first Randolph then the doc peeled away from the little group in favor of bed. I was kind of surprised at Randolph's stamina, staying awake that long couldn't have been easy.
If anything, the doc seemed even more reluctant to part, and Grace finally had to yell at him about it, at least from appearances. That stance of feet apart hands on hips, and gimlet stare was well known to me. And likely well known to any male ever born, truth be told. Watching the corpse imitate it was comedy gold, and well worth marking the time to make a small save file of later.
I suppose I really should ask her name; just calling her corpse was probably a bad idea, and it wasn't like being a corpse was a badge of shame. Here, even corpses were people too. Not that the doc or any of the others ever said it that way, but it was true. It was easily what I loved about this place the most, and it was past time I drank the company kool aid.
The sad thing was, I couldn’t stop a revisit of the first thought I had the first time I laid eyes on her. That even through all she'd been through, she was one hot corpse. I seriously needed to find a girl before I got fired.
With the doc out of the room, the two females went into the bathroom for a bit. Of course, since Grace knew about the cameras, and knew I'd be watching. Changing into nightclothes didn't take them long, and then they both climbed into bed again.
Was Grace going to spend the night with the corpse?
How curious. I thought she was like me; afraid of that thing. Had her fear dissipated with the animation of it? Mine had grown, if anything. But here she was, bedding down with the creature. Which was even more amazing when you considered she was here for what the doc and Fido laughingly called 'the Romero incident'. She was even forced to take an active part, and there she was, allowing a stitched up corpse to hug her close.
I suppressed the envy with effort. The corpse's head was very much where I'd love my head to be. Grace had some amazing breasts. Grace turned the light out, while I could imagine the purring noises coming from the bed as they shifted, getting comfortable.
The lack of light was no deterrent to the cameras; any of them. I wouldn't have it any other way.
But they settled in, and despite myself, so did I, easing off the edge of my chair and releasing the breath I hadn't known I held. They were alone together, in the dark, and there was no munching going on. From either side. Both were sleeping peacefully.
Very interesting, but it made me wonder what had happened. That the corpse would be the instigator, needing that kind of comfort somehow, was something I could see. Perhaps the doc had ordered Grace into it? No, that didn't quite fit either; Grace had ignored the doc when he spouted nonsense before. I suppose I could always ask, though I'd have to find out what sort of mood Grace was in first.
Two hours passed with little movement from either of them, and nothing more than the average stirring one would expect of sleeping people. I felt almost guilty about only skimming the other cameras, but what the doc didn't know wouldn't hurt me.
Then of course the clock chimed eleven, and I duty called. Time for another round. This time the round in the castle called for additional equipment. I grabbed the stupid bulky X03 from it's alcove near the door.
Looking like a cross between a hand held x-ray, a box, and a child's periscope, the damn thing weighed about forty pounds. But it had a very important job. It allowed one to look through walls. No opening of doors, and since I didn't need any light, no prior warning for any would be intruder at all.
Plus a quick scan on either side of me as I walked down the hall, only adjusting the power setting every once in awhile to penetrate multiple walls or bulky furniture (or the thicker outside walls if I wanted) and the round was done. I just had to be careful to hit every little nook cranny and corner. Even doing that it was quite the time saver.
The weakest setting was good for penetrating clothes, but it was very hard for it to penetrate walls then clothes... it had to be fine tuned to the extreme. It took less than an hour to use the X03 to see everything, and then I was off to phase 2 of the real job. With the alarms on automatic I left to go play in the woods yet again.
I had to leave the X03 behind; it was far too delicate for field work, and I tended to trip a lot. The doc forbade me from taking it outside after the third time he had to repair it. The meadow was still clear, so halfway home.
The forest was still spooky as hell, though this time the stupid owl didn't scare me. In fact, the entire forest surrounding the castle was quiet. The trip wires showed nothing. The more rustic alarms and traps we had showed nothing either. Not even that wolf who the doc probably imported just to scare me was making noise.
A fact which I found curious. There was only one reason for a forest normally teeming with life to be utterly silent. The introduction of a predator. There was only one reason for predators to be silent. The introduction of a stronger predator, or at least one perceived as such.
I didn't count; the animals around here were long since used to my presence and smell. Though wary, few stopped their nightly rounds on my account. Those few that did simply waited till I was passed, then started up again, something I could easily hear. I hadn't believed the doc when he told me that all the animals here were more sensitive to disturbances than most, at least to start. I certainly believed it now.
There! A sound which did not belong. I was turned that way before my conscious mind even registered it. It was the sound of an actuator... a robotic muscle, shifting it's owner slightly. But other than a sense of 'from the left' I could determine no more. Still, it was mildly sloppy.
Or perhaps not. It may not be a lazy devisor and light baffling. I could be picking up the sound of the actuators because I'm close enough to touch the thing. But where?
The answer was obvious, if you weren't a horror movie star. I looked up, and was immediately rewarded with my first glimpse of the thing. It was man sized but small, smaller than I was and wiry. It had some sort of passive camo which made my eyes want to slide off of it, an effect which I had dealt with before.
A hint of motion and it was gone, headed away from the castle at a pace I'd be very hard pressed to follow. But the glimpse of it in motion was enough. I had in fact, seen that camo before, because I had seen the robot in question before.
Painted all in black, it was molded to look like a shinobi straight from a video game, and had attacks to match. It was one of Dr. Syn's ninja-bots.
Not a bad piece of tech, but more than a little tacky. I mean, who tries to build ninja robots anyway? Robots that big just couldn't be completely silent. I much preferred professor Roach's robotic intelligence gathering insects. Much simpler and able to go places where even a ninja could not. Which reminded me; it was time to instigate the bug zapper sweep.
The fact that the ninja-bot had run away meant it had been programmed to gather intelligence and avoid detection. A bit buggy, but I didn't care. If I decided I had seen it, that would have engaged it's kill protocols, and I really didn't want to fight the thing. Winning took effort.
I didn't expect both of them to act so quickly, but if one had sent spies, the other had likely sent some spies too. They didn't like the idea of one getting an advantage on the other. Both of them underestimated the doc in my opinion, but that suited me just fine.
Sweep over, it was time to return to the castle and make sure the bot hadn't doubled back; if it hadn't, chances were that it had left entirely. I don't think it dared to try get that close, as the traps around the castle were far more formidable than it's programming. I should know, I cleaned up the pieces of old ninja-bots enough. The lasers, real ones with almost colorless beams and no sound maker included, had a tendency to turn them to scrap before they realized they were being targeted.
Luckily, they had different intensity settings for flesh. I'm not sure who had insisted on that feature, but my money was on Grace.
The castle was as I'd left it, the X03 at the door, and I used it again on my way back. Not a full sweep, but enough to take note of broken windows or something crazy. Nothing. The security office was quiet, and empty. Perfect.
I flicked the plastic safety hood off the button on the wall next to my battered desk (OK, one of them) and pressed it. Immediately on the map the wall opposite three red lights popped on. One in the library, one in the kitchen, and one in the hall.
The next button over caused those lights to darken again. I had made the mistake of asking how once; that was a waste of an hour that I'd never get back... and I'd likely be pissed about it, but the truth is I liked the company.
Even endlessly jabbering company that made me want to beat my head into a wall until the hurting stopped.
With everything quieted down for the night I settled back. I doubted either scientist would try anything more than this for now. The real shenanigans would occur during their visit tomorrow, and I wouldn't be awake for that.
I wrote the excitement in my log book as usual; who knows, maybe the doc would read it this time. Then I settled in with one of my favorites – Penthouse issue number 1. For the articles, of course.
I floated out of the darkness once again to the warmth and pleasant smell of nurse Gracie. I snuggled closer, being careful not to squeeze too hard. I lay like that, content and comfortable, looking at her until she woke with a small jump.
“Mary, been awake long?”
I wasn't sure how long long was, though I did have some idea of time. It didn't seem like that long at all to me.
“No.”
She gave me a look; I think it was a calculating look.
“You wouldn't know how long it was, even if it was a long time, would you?”
She was good at this! I smiled.
“No.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“Of course not.”
I tried to imitate her, but I don't think I did it right. She laughed though, and the sound was a thousand tinkling bells. I wanted to make her laugh like that forever.
“Alright Mary, shower time.”
She grabbed the clothes she had placed in Randolph's chair; she had brought them from her room last night, and added what she wanted me to wear to it. For convenience, she said.
She had gotten a little mad when I went to put it on last night. Apparently I was only supposed to wear other clothes in the morning, when the sun was up but not in the window. Always so much more to learn.
Taking the cloth off by myself was kind of hard; I knew nurse Gracie didn't want me to break it, and it got stuck! nurse Gracie laughed her bell laugh again, and helped.
“You pull it up, Mary. Up gently, like this.”
She got the cloth off me and then set it back on, showing me how to remove it. I was just glad I hadn't broke it. I did remember how to do all the things she showed me yesterday; use of the soap, and shampoo, and conditioner, and how to make the water come out.
Once done we dressed and I followed Nurse Gracie to the kitchen, where she started making food. I was a little hungry, but it wasn't the toothy growling thing it was yesterday. Today, nurse Gracie's hunger was making noises though.
Doctor Reg came in for the weird smelling brown stuff he had started eating with yesterday, while Nurse Gracie made the same food she made yesterday. The eggs. This time she was making something else with them.
“What is that?”
“That's bacon Mary, it goes well with eggs. Doctor Reg likes it that way.”
I turned to doctor Reg.
“What's this?”
“That is coffee Mary. Did we cover coffee yesterday morning? I don't think we got to it.”
No, we didn't cover coffee yesterday morning. What would we cover it with? And why?
“Coffee is a beverage Mary, a drink. Much like your food is currently. While not a good food for you, it works wonders for me.”
Why was it not good for me? I wanted to drink it and find out. But if doctor Reg thought it was not good for me, then it wasn't. He was my friend after all, and wouldn't be wrong about these things.
“Don't worry about it Mary, perhaps in time you can try other foods. But for now, are you hungry?”
I shook my head. I really wasn't. Not like nurse Gracie and doctor Reg are.
“Good, good. Let me know when you are, alright?”
I nodded, and my hair flew everywhere.
“You don't need to shake your head with such... enthusiasm, Mary. Just a little nod works too. Like this.”
Nurse Gracie demonstrated for me, and I mimicked her.
“Much better.”
I looked around, finally noticing something. Fido was missing!
“Fido?”
Nurse Gracie wasted no time in correcting me.
“That's 'where is Fido' Mary.”
Doctor Reg answered the question.
“Fido is busy at the moment, doing his job.”
Fido has a job? I knew what a job was... nurse Gracie had explained them to me yesterday. Like cleaning or cooking. Would I get a job of my own? What was Fido's job, anyway?
“Where is Fido job?”
“That's 'where is Fido's job?' Mary.”
I smiled at nurse Gracie; she hadn't even turned around that time! She was putting doctor Reg's food on a plate. She tries really hard to make sure I'm not making mistakes.
“Fido's job is outside, Mary. Outside the castle. Fido works on...”
Nurse Gracie interrupted.
“Doctor; not now. Not... yet.”
Doctor Reg looked into my face with a weird look, so I smiled at him.
“Alright. Fido works in managing the outside grounds, Mary.”
I looked between them, confused. What had just happened? Oh well, I had my answer. Wait... nurse Gracie got to go outside. Fido got to go outside. Doctor Reg got to go outside! Everybody got to go outside but me!
“Mary wants outside!”
“You want to go outside Mary? If we get all our work done today I'll take you.”
I hugged nurse Gracie. She was the best! Doctor reg made a noise I didn't know how to make.
“Mary, there are people coming to the castle today; would you like to meet them?”
More world AND more people from it all in one day? This was the best today ever! Doctor Reg squirmed a bit in my hug.
“I guess that means yes.”
Nurse Gracie was smiling too.
“Yes it does. So the other doctors are coming in today?”
Doctor reg made another noise I didn't know how to make. He was talented.
“Wild horses couldn't keep them away; when I posted my success they all but accused me of lying and demanded they be able to check, in the same breath.”
“Well that's just how they are. Old unsociable men who wouldn't know polite if it bit them.”
Polite had teeth?
“Anyway you needed their backing, so you have to put up with it. Mary, stop trying to snort, it's not polite.”
Was that was it was called? A snort? And if polite had teeth, why would I want it? Would it get hungry, since teeth were used for eating? Did snorting bring this 'polite' out? I resolved to stop trying to make the noise; after all, there was no telling if polite knew what was right to eat and what wasn't.
I waited and waited, fidgeting and looking for something to do while doctor Reg and nurse Gracie ate. I couldn't go outside until nurse Gracie and I did the work for today, and the first job yesterday had been dishes. Hey, I had a job like Fido! I helped nurse Gracie; surely that counted, right?
Finally they were done, and I took the dishes and put them in the sink.
“Well, someone is in a hurry. What if we wanted more?”
I looked at nurse Gracie with some confusion. Then looked in the dish she cooked food in. There wasn't any more.
Nurse Gracie put her hand on my hair and moved it around. It felt kind of nice but kind of weird.
“It's alright, we don't. But you should wait until we're ready before you start cleaning up, OK?”
I nodded.
“...Sorry?”
There was that bell laugh again; that ready smile.
“But what if I wanted more?” Doctor Reg asked.
“Too bad; I've seen how you're starting to thicken in the middle; you don't need more. Exercise more, then we'll talk.”
“That's pretty cruel, Gracie.”
Doctor Reg looked sad, so I hugged him. But at the same time, I had to correct him.
“Nurse Gracie!”
“Right, right... I'm sorry, nurse Gracie it is.”
Nurse Gracie turned the gear to make water fill the sink, and added soap. I got my towel for drying them. Doctor Reg slunk out of the kitchen to his job. I wasn't sure what his job was today. But I was sure he had one, and it involved the cellar.
But who cared about the cellar? I was going to go outside! Nurse Gracie and I were both going to go, just as soon as we finished cleaning! And maybe we could find Fido, and help him with his job! Then we could all be together, outside!
“Careful Mary, if we break the dishes, we will have more to clean up.”
I slowed down. That wouldn't do at all. Nurse Gracie favored me with a smile I recognized as... indulgent? What was indulgent?
“It's alright Mary, outside will still be there for us no matter how much time it takes. But there is no reason we need to clean more than absolutely necessary today. Say... two rooms? Neither as large as the library?”
She grinned at me again, this one spoke of mischief. Again, I wasn't sure what mischief was, but I knew the grin spoke of it. Something like a joke? I shrugged and grinned back.
The dishes didn't really take long at all, and the first room was nurse Gracie's. It was very clean and decorated with pretty colors. Nurse Gracie kept up the grin throughout, making me think she was up to one long joke.
That grin, if anything, got wider when we cleaned the next room, which was a smaller room where the house soaps were kept. Nurse Gracie called it a closet. With all the cleaning things out of it, it took even less time than nurse Gracie's room, or my room.
Then she led me all the way down the hall, and to a large door. I knew it was old oak, banded in iron, It looked like all the other doors in the castle, only larger. With another bright smile I tried to match, she produced a large oddly shaped piece of metal from her clothes and stuck it in the metal part of the door, below the knob.
The door opened to brightness that was at first, blinding. It soon resolved itself to a garden of stone. Nurse Gracie stood aside and let me through and into the bright warmth, closing the door behind us.
There were other buildings all around, made of the same stone. And stones like the floor of the castle, only a bit more rough under my feet. They made a trail, with dirt on either side. The varied gray seemed to soak up the sun, much as I did. It was warm and wonderful. Around it all, was a large stone wall, composed of large rough stones; some of them were even bigger than the bed in my room!
And there, to one side of the rock trail, there was a car.
It wasn't a car I recognized, but I knew what a car was. One had killed me, after all. It was bigger than the one from my dreams, but looked better; more sleek, and somehow it seemed better made. Nurse Gracie had to tug on my arm to get me past it.
“Come on Mary, it's safe. It's not on, and can't hurt you.”
All the same I was careful as I walked past it. Nurse Gracie continued;
“We don't use any of these buildings. There isn't anyone to occupy them. Most of the people around here... well let's just say they aren't happy with us putting the castle here, so we have to keep it up ourselves, and get people to come from far away when we need something.”
Looking closer with eyes less blind, I saw hints of green here and there among the stones and dirt... plants of some sort. They weren't all that colorful or pretty. We were headed to the wall, and there was a big opening in it. On the other side of that opening I could see a wooden bridge, more old wood with banded metal around it.
Some of the green plants were actually crawling up the side of the castle! I wondered how they did that without legs... They reached pretty far up, and had white heads on them in random places. The outside smelled much different than inside the castle.
Then we reached the wall, and beyond it was a small... stream? Body of water. Something. The bridge lay across it. And on the other side....
Outside was so huge!
Gently rolling hills covered in green and spots of other color, trees off in the distance (I remembered what those were) and more water flowing from the trees to the stream under our feet. There was a smooth stone path from the end of the bridge leading to the forest too.
The smells were wonderful. Less strong and yet more suggestive of heat and... haze? I wasn't sure what they were, but they were so much better than the cleaning soaps.
And everywhere above me there were white clouds and smaller things flying in the sky, and other things moving around in the distance. A glimpse of bright color caught my eye, fluttering around near me.
It was bright yellow and black, and it rose and fell in the air, flapping small wings. It wasn't a bird. The name of it was in my head somewhere, but I didn't know where! Maybe if I could get closer, and see it better...
It was on green plant, twitching the two large colorful parts it had, when I came up. But when I got closer it flew over my head like a bird, but more weird. It kept dropping, then raising, then dropping again. It landed on another plant, twitching itself again.
“That's a butterfly, Mary.”
A butterfly! I remembered now! But what a weird name... it wasn't butter, or a fly. I guess it could be a combination of both... but I would have to get closer to see.
“You don't want to hurt it do you? It's very fragile.”
It was moving. It was alive. I didn't want to hurt it or consign it to the darkness! I stopped, falling down, and put my arms behind me, watching it carefully. It floated off and landed on another plant with a blue head.
When I looked nurse Gracie had her hands on her face.
“Alright, I'll take that as a no. Want me to show you a trick? Help you get a closer look?”
I nodded.
“If I show you, you can't touch, alright? Just look.”
“Yes.”
She walked over and grabbed another plant with a blue head, pulling it out of the ground. She then walked over to where I was and handed me the plant, with the head just above my hand and moving my hand up above my head.
“Now just wait, and stay still.”
I waited. Nurse Gracie backed off, and I waited some more.
It seemed to take forever, but the butterfly came over... and landed on the plant in my hand, it's parts slowly moving up and down. I could see it now! It looked kind of like a worm with brightly colored drapes, and had long thin pieces coming from it's head. It didn't look anything like a fly, or butter. That was now definite.
Perhaps the mixing of the two made the combination different? But could such a combination make the new whole that different... and alive? I think I would have to test this. I was distracted by the butterfly stopping whatever it was doing to the plant, and walking on my finger.
It tickled! I could feel it's little legs, the pressure they exerted! This was great! An entire huge outside, filled with so much other than myself! Despite myself I held back. I wanted very much to touch the butterfly, to pet it; but I remembered nurse Gracie's warning.
I would likely crush it. I was too strong for it. It was made of butter and a fly after all, not stone or wood.
But that didn't mean I couldn't have fun with it. It never said anything, but I considered it a friend!
When it flew off, I was ready. I tried to follow as best I could. I found myself making some weird sounds, but I didn't know what they were. Nurse Gracie didn't seem too concerned; I was sure her smile matched mine; ear to ear.
When I got close, I slowed down and got careful again. But every time it took off, I followed as best I could.
Fido ran up while I was playing; I waved at him and kept going. He turned to nurse Gracie.
“Chasing butterflies. Just like a puppy.”
“It seems to be a right of passage for the young.”
“Is that... is that laughter?”
“Of course it is, she's having fun. She's not even really trying to catch the butterfly. Doesn't want to hurt it.”
So laughter was the sound I was making? A joyous sound, but it sounded nothing like nurse Gracie's laugh. Fido looked at nurse Gracie. I wish I knew how I was doing it.
“...Weird.”
Finally tired of the game, I flopped down into the small green plants. They felt soft and inviting, if not as soft as my bed. I noticed Randolph on the bridge and headed our way and waved to him... as my playmate butterfly landed on my nose.
With a smile I blew it off and watched it fly away.
The sun had walked across the sky, and his (how did I know the sun was a guy? I don't know, I just did.) friendly clouds had too. He was now pouring most of his light on the side of the castle nearest us, on the green plants that crawled up the castle wall.
Then I heard a light but low distant rumbling noise; it took me some time to recognize what it was, but I did know, and the knowledge filled me with dread. The noise got louder as the object of terror resolved itself along the smooth stone path, coming out of the trees with a lurch. It was large and black, and seemed to soak up the sun's light like a shard of darkness itself.
It was a car.
I watched the car carefully, but it stayed on it's ribbon, even as it got close enough to make a break for us. I was hiding behind Doctor Reg anyway; he could stop it. Or if he couldn't, it would get him first. But it surprised me by behaving. That was a good word to know; maybe if nurse Gracie told the cars of the world to behave they would?
"Come on Mary, let's go meet our guests."
What were guests? Again, doctor Reg was was reading my thoughts.
"Guests are other people, Mary."
Other I's! I wanted to know them all! But they had come in the metal guts of the car. They were still in it, even. What if it wouldn't cough them up? Would we have to go get them?
The other I's opened the side of the car, and escaped. They were smaller than Doctor Reg, but not as small as nurse Gracie. They were dressed in black over white clothes, and seemed very sour. Both of them had white hair, and one of them had a stick in his hand. They both nodded to Doctor Reg.
"Doctor Stutz."
He nodded back.
"Doctors Covings, Mallory."
They got his name wrong. They were talking right at doctor Reg, and calling him something else. They had to be set straight!
"Doctor Reg!"
So I might not have been paying as much attention to them as I wanted; the car was still open, and it could try to swallow us all at any time. The two other I's now identified, did not seem worried about that possibility at all. I was trying to decide who I should try to save. Doctor Reg or nurse Gracie might be able to jump clear on their own and get away, but I wasn't sure. The best thing to do was pay close attention to the car, even though it seemed quiet now.
And Doctor Covings leaned near me with a smile that somehow wasn't, and held out a hand.
"And you must be... Mary. Pleased to meet you."
Then he looked at Doctor Reg with even less of a smile than before.
"What's she doing?"
Doctor Reg looked at me, behind him.
"Well if I had to guess, I'd say she's hiding from your car."
I nodded, and he grinned.
"It's O.K. Mary, with the people out of it, it's asleep. It won't hurt anyone."
I didn't fully believe him, but nurse Gracie grabbed me and brought me closer to Doctor Covings.
"You're supposed to shake his hand, Mary. It's only polite. Gently."
I did so. He wanted to shake my hand too, up and down, so I let him. Then Doctor Mallory wanted to take a turn. Apparently it was a fun game for them, but I had to play by the rules. Oh well, I could always play with the butterflies again! They were fun, and knew how to fly!
"Mary, where are you going?"
"Butterflies!"
"Alright, be careful O.K?"
I nodded. Of course I would, they were small, and for all that they liked to play I didn't want to hurt them. The rules of that game were clear too. But even with the rules, this game was more fun than the other. I could still hear everyone talk though, and I made a point of listening for my name in case they were talking to me.
"Well, for being dead as long as she was and her prior state, she seems remarkably less retarded than one would expect."
Doctor reg spoke up, but that butterfly was waiting for me, right on the other side of the wooden road. I didn't want to go too far, but that wasn't that far away.
"What did you expect? She was a mutant. She would have died long ago if her mutation didn't actually provide benefits. Her intelligence was preserved; her memory, after so long however, is something else entirely."
Doctor Mallory spoke up.
"Ahh, so that's what it is. How bad is the problem? How much has the heir lost?"
"Childhood easily, though she seems to remember some things. Like your car scared her; That's why she was hiding. She remembers or internalized being in her death-like state somehow. I'm not sure how badly that may affect her yet. She remembered me, and recognized me right off, but doesn't seem to have made the full connection yet. And she hasn't asked about her father yet."
"Hmm... odd."
Doctor Covings got involved.
"Not necessarily. She might be very visual based at the moment, and seems to have... imprinted on Reginald and Gracie. Those portions of her memory might just simply be gone. Tell me, has she seen any evidence of her father?"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw nurse Gracie nod. I wanted to nod too, but the butterfly was just about to land....
"She has; two things jogged her memory. But she hasn't asked. It's been all about us, so far."
Doctor mallory spoke next, and the butterfly left. I wondered if his loudness had chased it off. Could it hear things?
"One wonders why she isn't more interested in this conversation."
Doctor Reg spoke up.
"Oh she is, but she doesn't know who we're discussing. After all, no names have been used. It's a hole in thinking we haven't had time to correct."
"Intriguing."
They were talking about holes. Holes were weird, and did so much. I wondered if I could find any holes around; the thinking hole sounded like it would be amazing. How would a hole think? Then the butterfly landed on me, and I had to stop. It started crawling around, moving it's wings.
"So what does she know? Have you done any of the standardized tests? Math, langauge, problem solving? You have at least scanned her for brain activity, haven't you?"
Doctor Reg sounded odd as he replied.
"There wasn't time for testing, she's only been awake for two days! But of course I have brain and body scans. They show some rather amazing results, actually. Nothing short of a miracle."
"Oh?"
"Yes. To start with, though her brain shows activity, and we have the electrical charge applied for that, it's primarily comprised of what existed before, the... substance that was the heir. And she's still quite dead."
The doctors were all looking at me. I didn't know what to do, so I smiled and waved. It seemed to be the right thing, since they smiled and waved back, though their smiles looked small. And then the butterfly took off again, not liking my movement. I followed, making a noise that just seemed to bubble out of me: I wondered where it would lead me this time!
"What do you mean?"
I looked over at the emotion in doctor Mallory's voice, to see what had startled him. I didn't see anything, and the car was still quiet and motionless, so I went back to the butterfly.
"I mean her heart beats because it's being massaged by the substance. Her brain sparks because it is made from it, like jello filling a mold or a clay sculpture. Several of her organs are not functioning, several of her muscles have been bridged by the same substance and most biological activity we associate with life is not present. The substance is making up for the lack, taking on the roles it needs to in order to make the body function."
"That is... astonishing. Any theories? Have you finally managed to determine what it is?"
"A few. As for what it is... well, she's a virus. Cellular structure, behavior, DNA, all shows that she shares many of the common attributes we associate with viruses. She was inert for lack of power, but since wakening she has spread throughout her host, and is currently assimilating more of it each moment. One of my theories is that she is massaging the heart because she needs to, and is using it to pump more of herself to the harder to reach tissues of her host; if I'm right she will eventually repair and restart all of the organs and make the body live again, as opposed to just reanimating it. Her work on the heart and brain seem to bear the theory out."
"You have proof?"
"Of course. Time elapsed scans, inside."
"Can she do it to living tissue?"
"We've tried before, remember? The results were negative, even though the side effects to the organism were... interesting."
Nurse Gracie walked up as the doctors all walked off. That was mean, I just met them and they were just going away.
"Hey, Mary, do you remember how to play 'catch'?"
I shook my head no. What was catch? Something.... a small ball and a weird glove. An faint image of a face, all detail long since washed out. Nurse Gracie held up a circle... a ball, and a large one. She held it in both her hands, and I would need both hands for it. It was red and soft to the touch.
"Here is how the game works. We both take turns, throwing the ball to each other. We have to do it gently, or we might hurt each other. The one not throwing, tries to catch the ball in their hands, then throws it back. Want to try?"
I nodded. That sounded fun.
Nurse Gracie moved back several steps and then threw the ball. I tried to catch it but missed.
"If you fail, you have to go get the ball before you throw it back."
I did so; it took a few tries to pick it up. It wanted to squish out of my hands!
"Remember Mary, throw gently."
I did, and the ball didn't reach Nurse Gracie, which made me frown. This was harder than it looked!
"A little harder than that. Part of the fun is in throwing it just hard enough."
Nurse Gracie threw it to me again, and this time i caught it! I had to use both hands and the rest of me, but it was a win! Nurse Gracie thought so too.
"Great Job, Mary!"
I threw it back, and Nurse Gracie caught it, having to move towards me a little to do so. I smiled; I think I had the hang of it now. If I threw just a little stronger, she wouldn't have to move at all! A few throws later and I had it down. We were throwing that ball to each other so easily!
And then I got an idea.
I did not like that black car the doctors had come in. Even more than the car Doctor Reg said was his, it was scary. Big and black and just... there. So maybe it would like to play catch? I think you needed arms to play catch, and I didn't see any. Maybe it would just eat the ball, the way it ate the doctors? If so it would spit it back out, so that wasn't a problem.
"What are you doing, Mary?"
Uh oh, Nurse Gracie was on to me! If I was going to do it, I had to do it now!
The ball bounced off the car, and the car screamed. I had woken it up!
Nurse gracie was hugging me.
"Mary, Mary, it's O.K.! It's alright, you can stop. It won't hurt you!"
I had been about to run, and I realized I had been making a loud noise too, like the car. A... scream? Yes, a scream. I remembered just in time not to hug nurse Gracie too hard. It took a long time before the car was silent again. I learned my lesson; I would never do that again.
"What happened?"
Doctor Reg! I hugged him too, dragging him away from the evil beast in our midst.
"Mary, stop! Mary, what's wrong?"
"Nothing much doctor; Mary got the bright idea to throw the ball at the car, and the alarm scared her."
I didn't stop until he as out of the car's ribbon. That way he was safer. Doctor Reg turned to the other doctors, who had also come with him. They seemed to be having fun breathing, they were doing a lot of it. I wasn't about to drag them out of the way though, it was their car!
"I see. Perhaps gentleman, for your next visit, you might turn off your car alarm? It seems to have frightened our subject."
Wait, what was a subject? Something about that word....
Doctor Mallory pointed a thing at the car, and it chirped at him. Could it make other things chirp too? That would be fun!
"Mary, you don't need to imitate the car."
Another word I didn't know.
"Imitate?"
"Make noises like the car. People might think you are a car too!"
That was silly. I didn't look anything like a car. Nurse Gracie was smiling at me though. I wasn't entirely sure but nurse Gracie could be playing another game with me? But it was mean to do that without telling me the rules! There were always rules. Rules were there to keep people from getting hurt, like the rules for hugging and sleeping and things.
The car, despite all the new noises it made, did not move. Doctor Reg pulled himself away from me and turned to the doctors.
"Copies of all the data will be sent to the locations you requested. Did you need anything else?"
Doctor Mallory answered.
"No, that's all... so long as you remember to turn on your camera feeds. There must be confirmation of all findings, and oversight. We were content with the prior process, but full methodology must be observed now."
Doctor Reg bent over slightly.
"I understand. If there is nothing else, I will see to the well being of the subject."
"See that you do."
And then they opened the car up. I was taking no chances this time; before they got inside of their own free will, I had Nurse Gracie and Doctor Reg well away and in the door of home.
The car started making noise again, the deep rumble different from it's screams, and moved away with the other doctors inside. I liked them, but they could just leave their car wherever cars were left next time. I poked Doctor Reg's car. It did not scream. It was also white. Maybe the white cars didn't scream?
I didn't see any more butterflies; were they scared away?
"So how bad was it?"
How bad was what? Nurse Gracie sometimes asked confusing questions. She was talking to Doctor Reg though, so I didn't answer. Even though I thought the other I's had been mean to leave so soon.
"Bad... the incident out here was timely. But nothing I can't handle. The camera feeds have to be turned on, which you heard. And copies of all my data streams have to be sent, which you heard. Basically what we feared, should we ever succeed. But we are ready for that, and have been. It's just... annoying, thinking that now they finally think of all this as worthwhile."
Fido walked up, grass all over him. I wondered how he managed that.
"It's fine doc, we got your back. They won't get anything from us. Ans I'll whip that useless guy into shape too. If they try something, we'll be ready."
They? Try something? Who was they and what something would they try?
Doctor Reg made a noise.
"Quiet. Little ears are present."
"Going to need to know sometime, doc."
I tried to imitate the noise, hoping it would scare Fido. He was still eying me like I was food!
"Yes, eventually... just not now. Please? Not now?"
"It's your call. But don't blame me for any hate later."
Nurse Gracie spoke up next.
"He wouldn't do that sort of thing. He's one of the good ones. Besides, I doubt he will get any such hate."
Nurse gracie was looking at me sort of from the side, so I smiled. I wondered what she was worried about. She seemed worried as she smiled back. Then I wondered what worried was. It was something I felt I should know....
"Any hate I get is no more than I deserve. And I'll deal with it myself if it comes."
Hate was bad, wasn't it? The way everyone was talking about it made it sound like it was bad. But I had to focus on the important things. I pointed to Fido.
"Grass."
He grinned at me.
"Yep. Grass is fun to roll around in. Unfortunately I have no arms or hands, so I can't brush it off. I guess nurse Gracie will have to wash me clean later, eh?"
Nurse Gracie didn't look smiley at Fido. I think she was mad. But again, the important things had to come first.
"Mary, what are you doing?"
"Rolling in the grass."
I guess it was kind of fun, just to wiggle around. And it made my back feel better. But I think nurse Gracie was mad; she had her hands over her face again.
"Heh. Looks like I've corrupted the innocent! Awesome."
I'm not sure what Fido meant, but he was smiling, and not in his 'Mary is food' way. So I smiled back.
"Alright enough Mary, you're getting your clothes all dirty. Stand up, it's time to go inside."
I didn't want to go inside! The inside was so small and smelled old.
"Don't pout Mary, it isn't polite. And if we don't go inside, we can't see Randolph. You want to see Randolph, don't you?"
Yes I did; why was Randolph not here? He said he would be here, and play outside!
"He didn't come outside."
"He couldn't Mary, he wasn't feeling well."
What was not feeling well? Nurse Gracie seemed to understand my thoughts once again.
"It means he's sick Mary."
What was sick? And just like that, Nurse Gracie's face was in her hands again.
"It means his body isn't working right, Mary. He can't move around as well as he wants."
So his body wouldn't work that well? Seemed a silly reason not to go outside. I mean we aren't doing anything hard, were we? Well throwing the ball just right was hard... was there a way to make him feel better?
"Let's go!"
"Mary, you can stop pulling, I'm coming! Be gentle, remember?"
I moved quickly (ran? Another word I somewhat knew) to Randolf's room, Nurse Gracie right behind.
"Wait Mary. Knock first and wait for Randolf's reply, remember? Randolf likes his privacy."
I knocked, gently. And waited. And Randolf did not answer. I looked over at Nurse Gracie.
“I'll go in first.”
She knocked again and then walked in, while not opening the door enough to let me in or see. So I gently opened the door more. Doctor Reg followed me in, smiling.
“Seems there is more we need to work on, eh Nurse?”
“As you say, Doctor.”
Randolf was in bed. His eyes were shut and he was not moving. Were his eyes not working too? I knew how that felt; it wasn't good.
“What's wrong?”
Nurse Gracie touched him on the arm, and neck. His eyes looked like they wanted to open, but didn't.
“Nothing more than usual. I guess he was just tired and fell asleep.”
Well that was wrong! I promptly climbed into his bed and settled in beside him, making sure to be gentle.
“Uh, Mary? What are you doing?”
Doctor Reg replied for me.
“Mary doesn't want Randolf to be alone. Or to be more precise, to face the darkness alone. It's fine, she won't hurt him.”
“But....”
“But nothing, it's fine. Look you can stay too and make sure. Your work for the day is pretty much done. You were just going to read, weren't you? Shouldn't be any problem, and this way you'll be right here if his condition changes.”
Fido spoke too, though I didn't understand what he was talking about.
“Ahh, the look on Randolf's face will be priceless.”
Looks had prices? What were prices, and how would you know?
“Alright Doctor, but you get to explain your decision when he wakes up. I won't.”
Then Doctor Reg left with a wave, and Nurse Gracie settled into Randolf's chair to read. I snuggled in, listening, and feeling Randolf's heart thud in his chest. It was comforting.
This was not the darkness. I was being assaulted by things, images, sounds, many of which I did not know or could not have seen before. A part of me, the part of me more aware than anything else, knew this state as 'dreaming'. The rest of me had never dreamed before.
The largest part of me was trying to figure out what all the things I was seeing (experiencing) were. Lights and colors pinwheeled around, while spots appeared and disappeared. An old man appeared, a kindly grin on his face while waving an arm. A small dog, grungy and tongue lolling as it came to lick me. A much smaller doctor Reg, his face unlined.
Places too: an old white house, with a large yard. A small stream with fast flowing water. A striped tent, with animals I should recognize, but didn't. Streets lined with houses, stores, and buildings with other uses, including a place to feed cars.
The sounds were the worst; barking and bleating and guttural car noises, voices and bangs and yelling all combining with other, softer noises until I couldn't stand it anymore.
And then it all started fading away, into a single dot of existence, and the darkness started closing in. I tried to move, but could not. I tried to scream, but could not. I tried to open my eyes, but could not. And just as I was giving in to despair, all hope gone, everything came back with a rush.
“...ary? Mary? Can you hear me?”
Doctor Reg!
I flew to him, wrapping my arms around him so fast I swung us both around. He didn't fall however, and I remembered just in time I had to be gentle, so I eased up and dropped. I didn't let go.
“The dark came and I was so scared Doctor Reg! Then you came and made it go away!”
He put his hands into my hair. It felt nice.
“It's OK Mary. It's my fault, and I'm sorry. I should have realized how quickly you were using the electricity I gave you before. But it's fine. That darkness will never claim you again.”
The room came into focus around Doctor Reg, revealing Nurse Gracie and Fido standing to either side of me, amongst the things... machines? Of the tower where I first woke up. I had been brought here again, as the darkness had been about to claim me. I could hear a hum underneath the other sounds. And then nurse Gracie started laughing. I looked over at her, to find her pointing at doctor Reg.
“What?”
Doctor Reg's hair was standing up. How did he get it to do that? Normally it laid flat, but it was up in a ball around his head. Fido was laughing too, which was a weird sort of rasping wheeze. Nurse Gracie's hair was put up like normal. I waited, wondering if it would stand up to. When I first saw doctor Reg after all, his hair was normal, and then it stood up. It wanted to, for some reason, but why?
Randolph! If everyone else was here, then he was alone!
“Randolph!”
“He's fine, Mary. He's awake and waiting on us. Are you feeling alright? Ready to go down?”
I was, so I nodded. She led the way with Fido, and doctor Reg was behind me. The stairs were easier this time. My self worked better. I laughed as I touched nurse Gracie and Fido carefully, and then ran. I remembered this! It was a game, and I'd done it earlier, but I could remember... doing it with doctor Reg?
Yes, we used to do this in front of my house! Sometimes with more people, but often just the two of us! I looked back at doctor Reg, trying to make his hair flat again with his hands. How had he gotten so big? Something had happened to change him.
I felt like I almost knew what that something was, now. I was... more than I was before, somehow.
Randolph was in his bed, but awake and reading a book when I burst in. I made it all the way to him before nurse Gracie made it inside, and managed to carefully snuggle up to him and look in the book. There should be pictures in it, but there weren't.
“Don't pout Mary, I'll read to you later. How are you?”
I smiled and hugged him to show him I was fine.
"Right, you're fine. You gave us quite the scare."
Scare; what was scare?
"You just stopped," Randolf continued. "It took us a while to understand what was going on. The good doctor had to give you a little zap."
What was a zap? Did it matter? What was matter? Something... my head was crowding.
"I am... dizzy."
Randolf put his book down, and everyone looked at each other. I put my head on the bed, it felt better there.
Everyone moved, looming over the bed. "Are you alright, Mary?" Doctor Reg asked.
I had been asked again; was the answer different? "Yes. No?"
"Right. You don't feel well, then. Come on then, off to bed with you." Doctor Reg picked me up. I grabbed the cloth on the bed; covers? Blankets?
"No, Mary. We can't bother Randolf, he's healing. Don't worry, I'm sure nurse Gracie will stay with you."
I let go, and Doctor Reg swung me around slowly. Nurse Gracie came into view and smiled. "Sure, and I'll even read you a story."
My stomach made noise.
"Hm, are you hungry Mary?"
I think so. I nodded.
"Right, after dinner then. I'll just carry you to the kitchen."
I held on as Doctor Reg moved, shifting me around. He moved to the kitchen and got my food, and a something else for himself - something that made a crunch noise and spread everywhere. Nurse Gracie took some of them too and got little bits of them on her clothes.
"Dirty," I told her. I remembered the grass.
"Right you are, Mary."
I finished my food but my stomach was still making noise. "More."
Doctor Reg smiled and got another; Nurse Gracie wasn't smiling though. "That's 'more, please' Mary. Use all the words, you aren't Fido."
"Here you go, Mary." Doctor Reg said, handing me more food. He even put the sip-thing (the straw, that was what it was) in for me.
Wait. "Randolph. Is Randolph alone?"
"Yes he is Mary," Nurse Gracie said. "But he's fine. There is no reason at all to worry about him and... Mary, wait!"
"Mary." Doctor Reg said sternly. (Sternly? What was that?) "Not until you finish your meal."
I finished quickly and carefully put it back on the table, looking at Doctor Reg. He smiled so I ran; Randolph might be in trouble! If the darkness had tried to get me again, it might have tried to get him when I wasn't there to help.
"Mary, wait up!" Nurse Gracie yelled behind me.
But I wouldn't.
"Go ahead Grace, I'll clean up here." I heard Doctor Reg tell her and I heard her shoes tap quickly after me.
I made it to Randolph's door first of course and remembered to knock - gently.
"Yes?" Randolf said from inside; the darkness didn't have him!
Nurse Gracie tried to grab me, but I moved and climbed onto Randolph's bed.
"Oh, hello Mary. Here for the reading I owe you?"
I was, so I nodded.
"Sorry," Nurse Gracie said. Randolph made a gesture which I didn't know, a sort of wave. I repeated it, and Nurse Gracie smiled.
Then she frowned. "You, little miss, are not supposed to run down the halls. You could fall and hurt yourself.
"I'm sorry Nurse Gracie. But I had to make sure."
"That I wasn't asleep?" Randolph asked with a laugh. "Fat chance of that with all the excitement going on; you gave us quite a scare young lady."
What was a 'fat chance'? Was it different from another type of chance? I knew what a lady was, but what was young? What was a scare?
There was always more to know.
"Now, how would you like to hear me read some "Grendel"?
I nodded and fell over on the bed. It was soft.
"I guess that's a yes," Randolph said.
"Don't you think she's a little too... young for that?" Nurse Gracie asked.
"No, I don't, Randolph answered. "It's never too early for the classics."
"Perhaps not, but whether 'Grendel' is one of those classics is debatable."
"Please. That's like saying Salinger is bad."
I looked between them as they argued. They were talking about other I's, that was clear, but I didn't know them. Maybe I'd get to meet them some day... maybe even soon! I wonder if Doctor Reg will find them for me, or let me find them. To have this many other I's, there had to be more world out there to see.
I wondered how the other I's stayed away from the darkness; did they hug each other like we did? If not they should.
I opened my mouth to ask - but shut it with a clack as Randolph started to talk, his book held in front of him. He sounded completely different! More... more; it was weird and delightful. I rolled over to listen better.
Randolph told a story of an I who hated other I's. He hated them so much that he ate them. I didn't understand. Some of the words I did not understand.
"Grendel is wrong."
Randolph paused and looked over. "How so Mary?"
"Eating people is wrong."
"Yes, it is, Mary." Nurse Gracie said with a small smile.
I smiled back. "Where did the other I's go?" Grendel had them but they were not mentioned again.
"The other I's?" Randolph asked.
"The ones Grendel ate. Where did they go?"
Nurse Gracie frowned and looked mad. Randolph held his hands up then turned to me. "That's 'other people', not other I's. They were dead, Mary. When Grendel ate them, it killed them."
"Dead?" What was dead?
Randolph stopped. "Dead is um...."
"The darkness Mary," Nurse Gracie said. "When Grendel ate them, they went into the darkness, and never came back."
That...!
"Mary, Mary, stop screaming, it's just a story!" Nurse Gracie cried, hugging me. The Randolph hugged us both and we fell over.
"I'm sorry Mary, I should have read something else after all."
No, Randolph hadn't done anything wrong, it was Grendel. "Grendel is mean."
Just eating all the I's - all the people and sending them to the darkness was wrong.
"Yes," Randolph agreed as he moved away, back to his pillows. I wanted a pillow. "Grendel is mean. He's a monster that delights in hurting people. But he's also sad, too."
I felt my face scrunch up and wondered why it did that. "Why?"
"Well, we'll just have to read on to find out. Do you think you can handle that Mary, or should we stop? If we continue you'll have to promise not to scream anymore; after all, it's just a book, and nothing in it can hurt you." Randolph held up the book and shook it.
"I don't like Grendel," I told Randolph. Grendel was a... I didn't know what he was, but I didn't like it. What had Randolph called him? A monster?
"I know." He said.
Nurse Gracie moved too, but stayed close, her hand on my head.
"Okay. I'm sorry and I promise not to scream anymore."
Randolph nodded. "Okay, I'll start again then."
He looked from his book to me and I nodded. He changed his voice again, and Grendel was running around crying and eating people again. At least until he started to drop his book and do the thing with his mouth. I didn't know what it was, but I should know what it was.
"Mary, don't imitate other people's yawns, it's not polite." Nurse Gracie said with her mouth stretched open the same way Randolph's had been. It made her sound different.
"Why?"
"Because it makes other people yawn. Are you tired?"
I was not. "No."
"Well, Randolph and I are. So can we please get some sleep?"
I looked at Randolph and his eyes were closed, so I poked him.
"I'm awake Mary, but I'd rather not be; it's four in the morning."
What did this four in the morning have to do with anything? I looked around for it, but I couldn't find it, and it was dark outside so it wasn't morning.
"Come on Mary, just go to bed already," Randolph said. The yawn made him sound funny too.
"But...."
"It's fine Mary. Sometimes we need to face the darkness for a time. Everyone needs to for little while each day. Even Grendel needed to."
That was true; Grendel had stayed in the darkness often. "But it could take you!"
"That's just the risk we run Mary."
Well, that was just stupid.
"Come on Mary, let's at least brush our teeth and do the other things we need to do each night. Then if you still want to we can all come back here and pile on Randolph's bed."
"Hey now, there's no way that's going to work. My bed isn't big enough for all three of us." Randolf said.
Randolph's bed was very big. I could roll around on it.
"It is now," Nurse Gracie said. "You'll just have to deal with it."
"Whatever, I'm too tired to argue," Randolph said.
"You should brush your teeth too," I told Randolph. After all, he didn't want to lose teeth, did he?
"I already have, Mary."
Oh.
Nurse Gracie grabbed my hand and we went to my room. "Get your pajamas. Oh and some underwear too. We can put off the shower until morning, but you need to wear clean clothes when you can."
I pointed at Nurse Gracie's uniform.
"Yes, I know, me too. let's get your teeth brushed and your clothes on before we worry about me, okay?"
That seemed okay to me. I nodded.
I undressed first. I remembered something... toothpaste made a mess? Nurse Gracie looked at me, shook her head, and handed me my toothbrush.
"Try putting the paste on yourself? Just enough to cover the head."
Toothbrushes had heads too? But they didn't think, did they? I didn't want the toothbrush to think. What if it thought mean things about me? I put the toothbrush down and carefully held the toothpaste over it.
"That's it, Mary. That's enough, good job."
I hadn't even done anything and the toothpaste had come out. That was... easy?
"Alright, now gently brush the bristles across your teeth, front and back. I'll time you, okay?"
I nodded. I think I did well, but Nurse Gracie had to move the toothbrush for me once. She smiled, so I guess I didn't do too bad. I remembered how it felt so I could do it myself next time.
"Alright, now spit - into the sink Mary, I'm on to your shenanigans - and rinse with the water."
I dutifully spit in the sink. I didn't do it the way Nurse Gracie did... her moisture looked the same as mine, but it flew out, and mine didn't.
"Rinsing is taking a mouthful of water like this, and spitting it back into the sink to clean the toothpaste out of your mouth, like this." Nurse Gracie continued, and she demonstrated.
"You remember?" She asked after she was done. She even put a towel to her mouth.
I did, but I wanted to know what a shenanigan was. It was a funny sound, so it had to be something fun. I think that was how it worked. I grabbed Nurse Gracie's towel and put it to my mouth like she had; it dried everything when she grabbed it back and put it in my face harder.
"Silly kid. You have to get the corners. Oh, you think that's funny, do you?"
It was.
Nurse Gracie stopped and said. "Alright, enough of that. Put your pajamas on Mary, or Randolph will start without us."
Oh no! I hurried.
"Wait, stop a moment."
I stopped a moment, and was just about to start again when Nurse Gracie asked: "You don't have to go to the bathroom, do you?"
I thought a moment, then remembered what she was asking. "No?"
Nurse Gracie put a palm on her face. "Right, I'll just ignore that. Do me a favor... if you have to at some point and we're all still asleep, just come in here and do it, and then come back to bed, okay? I promise you we can be safe for a few minutes, alright?"
I nodded. If it made Nurse Gracie happy I would do it.
We went back to Randolph's room, and I went to bed. Randolph's eyes were closed, but they opened when I hugged him.
"Hello, Mary."
"Hello, Randolph."
"I'll be right back Mary. You got your pajamas on, and now it's my turn, okay? You keep Randolph company and I'll be back before you know it."
That was okay. Changing clothes was important; Nurse Gracie had told me so herself. I nodded.
"Gee, thanks, Grace." Randolph said.
Nurse Gracie went back out the door and I heard her walk off. Why did the sound lessen like that?
I could wonder about that later; Randolph had already closed his eyes again. I kept up my hug until Nurse Gracie returned with her pajamas on. Her pajamas were like mine, long and covered almost every body part. She got into the bed and I hugged her too.
"Thanks, Mary. Good night."
When Nurse Gracie closed her eyes, I did too. I listened to both Randolph and Nurse Gracie make noise through their mouths; neither were very loud, but Randolph was a bit louder. Wait, I was doing it too! It was... what was it... oh right. It was breathing air. We were all breathing.
And sound was carried in the air, that was why it could get softer....
I stayed in the darkness for a time, but I wasn't alone. I felt both of my friends with me, even if I couldn't see them. The darkness I could see was also not complete, there were things in it. A house which I had seen before... and a car that towered over me and screeched.
I woke to a noise. Both Randolph and Nurse Gracie were still next to me with their eyes still closed. I got up gently. The noise had movement to it; it got louder when I went in the direction of the window, so I went to the window and it stopped.
The noise was from a car. Not THE car, but a car. An I stepped out of it. "Sarah? Sarah?" She said. She looked all around on her way to the door, saying that word very loudly. Then she looked up and saw me.
"Sarah!"
I did not know that word, but she was looking at me, so I waved.
Who was Sarah? I didn't know an I called Sarah.
"Nurse Gracie, who is Sarah?"
Nurse Gracie didn't answer, she just made a noise.
A booming sound happened, three sharp booms that did that thing Doctor Reg and I had done with our voices before. In the hall I could hear Fido make screamy noises. He was getting louder.
I moved Nurse Gracie again; I was impatient, but I had to be gentle. "Nurse Gracie, who is Sarah?"
Nurse Gracie opened her mouth wide and made a noise, then opened her eyes. "AHH!" she yelled, and tried to move away. So I held on. I could hear Fido click-clack on the stone, and then he started screaming softer.
"Floor that way!"
"Jesus, Mary, you gave me a fright!" Nurse Gracie said (told me?) holding herself. Then she switched to me while asking: "Why did you wake me up, you little bundle of energy? Couldn't you sleep? It's only seven...."
What was Jesus?
"You forgot Joseph," Randolf said, making a noise like Nurse Gracie had and rolling over, away from us.
Joseph was a name. It sounded like a name. Who was Joseph?
"So why wake us, Mary? What's wrong? Can't you sleep just a little more?" Nurse Gracie asked, her mouth going wide again then clacking closed as she put a hand over it.
"Who is Sarah?"
More booms boomed. Nurse Gracie rose in an instant and shed the blankets, heading to the window. "Oh, shit."
That was one of the words!
Nurse Gracie turned and ran for the door. Which seemed like fun, but the blankets wouldn't let me go anymore. "Randolf, watch her! Slow her down, something!"
Nurse Gracie then shut the door, just as I got to it! My nose squished against the door as Randolf finally talked again.
"Wait, what?"
Randolf sounded like I did; how could he do that? What was it, the thing? Dis... dis... confused?
"Randolf, who is Sarah? Does Sarah here?"
Randolfs eyes got so big. How did he do that? "That's 'Does Sarah live here', and no she does not. Come away from the door please, and I'll read to you. Would you like me to finish Grendel, or read something a little more fun?"
I liked fun, but fun was outside the door, not in a stuffy old book full of darkness. Randolf was getting out of bed, making weird sounds. Good, he could join too! I let him get closer then I opened the door and went out; I left the door open because I didn't want Randolf to squish his nose. He might not like it. He didn't like squished hands.
Was it just Randolf? Nurse Gracie said some of the same things....
Dowwnnn the stairs, and I could hear a door open, then shut just as quickly. That was where the fun was, where a new other I was that I had not met before.
"Mary!"
Randolf was running, as expected, and behind him, Doctor Reg was too! Doctor Reg was even leaning forward and waving his arms! What a fun game!
My foot went off and I rolled down the stairs, which proved to be even faster! There was no way Randolf or Doctor Reg would catch me now, even if the room was spinning!
I found the door, but it wouldn't open.
"Mary, are you alright?!?"
"She's laughing doc, I'm pretty sure she's fine. Mary, come away from there!"
I could hear words on the other side of the door, but not what they were. There was a big piece of wood that went across the door, but it wasn't there now, it was placed to the side. Why wouldn't the door open? Did I have to try harder?
No, there was something else... the door handle?
Randolf reached me, and put his arms on me. "Got you! Now will you listen? Please?"
He was making a weird noise, sort of blowing like the wind did.
I always listened, so I nodded yes. "Door."
"It's locked, Mary, and Nurse Gracie didn't want you out there. So why don't we just go back upstairs and...
With a creak and a smaller boom, the handle turned and the door began to open. I helped it along, and heard Nurse Gracie clearly on the other side as she moved away from it.
"Ahh!" she said while taking quick steps.
And then I was out, in the bright and warm sunshine with a new other I.
An other I that was also playing a game! She stopped for a minute with her mouth open, and then wrapped herself around me as her eyes leaked. "Sarah! It is you!"
That wasn't how the game worked. "Mary."
The other I had yellow hair, and many lines and grooves on her face. Her blue eyes were blackened around the edge, and she like a bundle of sticks as she held on to me with great strength.
"Mary." I told her.
Randolf and doctor Reg came out. "Aw, crapsickle sticks." Doctor Reg said.
"What did you say, honey?" The other I asked, her arms still around me.
Nurse Gracie made a noise.
"Mary! My name is Mary!"
The other I stopped and looked right at me. "No, your name is Sarah, and you are my daughter."
Doctor Reg and Nurse Gracie stepped close, and grabbed her arms. "No, Mrs Jacobs, Mary is Mary, and she's very confused about who you are and why you're here."
They helped Mrs Jacobs off and away from me, which was good because I didn't want to hurt her. From the noises she was making, it would have been worse if I'd done it.
"No! Noooo! Let go! You... quack! That's my daughter!"
What was a daughter? I didn't think I was one, something seemed wrong about that, but I didn't know what.
"I told you Mrs. Jacobs, that if you saw her again, it wouldn't be her inside. I explained that quite clearly. Your daughter... She isn't here, and you know it."
Mrs. Jacobs wriggled. "No! She's right there!"
Birds flew, I think because she was so loud? "No, I'm Mary. Who is Sarah?"
She looked at me. Really looked, and she saw me at last, I could tell. Even as her eyes leaked, she stopped wriggling and smiled at me.
"So I see. Mary, right?"
I nodded.
"My name is Erica. You can call me Erica."
"Okay!"
I was outside. I was outside in the sunshine, and everyone was here. Even Fido was here, to the side, watching everything. So the game had to cont... keep going!
"Mary!" Randolf said, really loud, and the birds flew again. I could hear him as he came after me, feet pounding in the grass.
More feet in the grass, as Fido came along, and I could hear Nurse Gracie whisper something from right behind me!
"Gonna catch you!" Fido told me. "She's right behind you!"
I looked and she was there! I could reach out and touch her! I had to get away!
She reached out and poked me. "Tag, you're it!"
I stopped and then fell over. "Haaaa." I could do the thing Randolf did without trying! That was...odd?
Nurse Gracie had bare feet. I had bare feet! Oh no, Nurse Gracie would get mad! She sat next to me, and didn't seem to care.
Erica and Doctor Reg were talking, but I couldn't hear what they were saying. Erica still had leaking eyes, but she was nodding along to whatever Doctor Reg was saying, biting on her hand. Wouldn't that hurt?
"Mary, don't bite your hand. You could hurt yourself."
I thought so!
I stopped, but Erica didn't. She must not be able to hear Nurse Gracie. Randolf slumped beside me, a hand draped over me as he made more wind noises. "I am out of shape."
Randolf had a shape. it was like the others I's I knew. What did he mean?
"Not your fault. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to try and hold on to her. You're better, but you're not well."
I think they are talking about me. But why? I was right here.
"She took a tumble down the stairs, but jumped right back up. I think she got a little... better."
Nurse Gracie turned to me, and gave me a look I didn't like. "oh, really? Fell down the stairs, you say? Could it be she wasn't careful?"
Why did Randolf tell? We were having fun!
"Oh my, she's not happy with me at all."
He knew, but I decided to tell him anyway. "Jerk move."
"Jerk... move?" Nurse Gracie asked.
I nodded. "Fun game, and now Mary is in trouble."
Nurse Gracie hugged me. "He's just worried about you. No one here wants you to get hurt."
"But I didn't?" Did people get hurt so easily? I did not. Would Nurse Gracie, or Randolf? Doctor Reg?
"Yes Mary, we avoid trying to dive headfirst down staircases."
I shook my head and pointed to my feet, putting one of the other. "That happened."
"You tripped over your own feet?"
Randolf made it sound bad. I nodded. "Sometimes they... don't work?"
Nurse Gracie nodded. "Excellent, Mary. That was a good sentence and an adequate explanation."
I paid attention, I might need that speech later.
"Well, Lucky for us, you didn't break anything. You bounced right back up... did you really not feel it?"
Feel... feel... "I did feel it, but it didn't feel bad."
"You mean it didn't hurt, don't you Mary?"
I nodded. Hurt was the right speech.
"Regardless, you could have gotten hurt. Neither of us want that." Nurse Gracie made a wind noise. "Mary, this isn't the first time your feet have gotten crossed, right?"
I looked at my feet. Maybe they were the real jerks! I shook my head.
"Right, so maybe you shouldn't try to go so fast in the castle? It's made of stone, and stone can be very painful to run into. It can hurt a lot, and make other things not work. Since we don't want that for you, how about you just run like that out here in the grass? Away from the stone and the trees?"
Nurse Gracie's arm swept the hill and field beyond. I looked.
"I... okay." It was to keep me from getting hurt? Could Randolf or Nurse Gracie get hurt like that too? They moved fast when I moved fast, could their feet cross too?
"I'm sorry!"
"Oof! Mary, it's fine, so long as you understand. You can let me up now, I need to make breakfast."
My tummy made noises. So did Randolf's. Nurse Gracie frowned at us until her tummy made noises too. Then she laughed.
I like to laugh.
We all got up; I helped Randolf. Fido jumped around us, still laughing, as we went slowly back to the door.
"When we're done with breakfast Mary, we can all come outside and play. Well Randolf probably won't, but I bet we can get the Doctor to fill in."
Randolf looked... hurt? No, not that. Something. I tugged on his arm, gently and he smiled down at me, but he didn't look smiley.
"Sorry Mary, I'm a bit tired. I don't know how you and Grace do it."
Tired, that was it! But how do I um, answer this? What could I do?
That was it! I patted his hand. "It's okay, I forgive you."
Randolf made noises with his mouth that I didn't know, and Nurse Gracie laughed.
"Well done, Mary! Excellent acceptance of an apology! You remembered that from somewhere."
I hugged Nurse Gracie. She always seemed to understand me.
Randolf just made grumbly sounds.
"....I told you not to accept their calls." Doctor Reg said as we got close.
"I know, but I just... They said she was... active, and I had to see." Erica said.
Doctor Reg turned to us. "Breakfast time?"
Nurse Gracie nodded. "I'll get right on it, Doctor."
"Erica, would you like to join us? You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
Erica was looking at me again, with her leaky eyes. "I'd love to."
"Come on Mary, let's go first. You can watch me cook again. Randolf can you do me a favor and set the dining room before you go back to sleep?"
I liked watching Nurse Gracie cook.
"Sure, I can do that. But I won't set a place for myself."
Nurse Gracie smiled back at Randolf. "That's fine, I'll save it in the fridge for later."
We went into the kitchen, where the dangerous stuff I couldn't touch was. Nurse Gracie was amazing because she could, and knew what everything did.
"If you want to watch, Mary, you sit right in that chair. No, the one against the wall. You stay put right there, and you'll be away from anything dangerous."
I nodded. Nurse Gracie knew how to deal with the dangerous things in the kitchen, and I did not. I wondered why the kitchen was called the kitchen again. I would ask later.
The box that made heat and sometimes fire was called the oven. I remembered. Nurse Gracie put the kettle on it, and grabbed a pan... no, a skillet? Why was it called a skillet? It was different from the other pans, or it wouldn't have its own name. Not as tall? That could be it!
Nurse Gracie grabbed some things from the 'fridge' box, and broke them in the skillet. Then she washed her hands. Then she turned the fire on, and soon things began to sizzle. I swung my feet around but stayed in the chair.
Doctor Reg came in and began putting water in his thing. The cof... coffee maker! It made mud that didn't taste like mud, but I was told not to drink any. He left while the thing worked.
I wanted to try it, and Fido told me he would get me some later, but Nurse Gracie was around all the time so he hadn't yet.
I could hear Randolf in the room down the hall, the one we never used, setting up dishes. Why there, when we normally had food here? Wait, there were three chairs here... and Nurse Gracie, Doctor Reg, Erica, and Mary was four people. So we needed more space!
The stuff in the skillet continued to sizzle. The smell was a memory, too. Eggs? Chicken eggs. There was also a better smell, a more... a more yummy smell. That one I didn't know. There was so much I didn't know, and it was awful.
But I knew that I knew so little, and that was more than before. I could look out now for things I didn't know.
I waited. Nurse Gracie would want us all to eat together, I was sure of it. Even if my food didn't take as long to pre... prep... deal with.
Nurse Gracie was moving a flat thing around in the black skillet with quick motions. She pulled the skillet up and took the flat thing out and the eggs were stuck on it. She flipped them and went back to poking at it.
That was so great! It flew into the air, and back into the skillet! No spills!
"Oh you liked that, did you Mary?"
Nurse Gracie knew because I was laughing. She was laughing too. Even Fido was smiling; Fido always smiled.
Nurse Gracie flipped the eggs again, they were solid now and mostly flat. I clapped as she put them on a plate. She smiled, then added the other things I'd been smelling. Small flat brown things that made a "sss" noise.
They stopped once out of the skillet though.
Nurse Gracie started all over again. I watched. If I kept watching, I would know how to do it myself.
There was more to this, these... actions. Would I know it all when the time came?
I watched more.
My tummy was rolling around inside me by the time Nurse Gracie was done, and she grabbed the massive flat thing... plate full of flat eggs and went into the hall.
"Mary, could you carry that other plate please? The one with the sausage on it?"
That must be the other flat things. I grabbed the plate and followed.
Doctor Reg passed me, with one eyebrow higher than the other. "Be careful Mary, it would be a shame if you dropped the sausage."
I was careful. I set the plate down next to Nurse Gracie's and she helped me move it. "Now come on, let's get yours. You've been very patient, and we're almost ready now."
I followed Nurse Gracie again, and we passed doctor Reg again. He had the coffee in one hand, and a plate of... bread in the other hand.
Nurse Gracie got my food out of the fridge, and my straw, and a knife. She wouldn't let me help with that, but she let me carry all the bottles of water, which was harder than it looked.
Fido followed us, but he didn't help at all, he just smiled at us.
I put the water at the places Randolf had set up. Now I knew why Randolf wanted to go. This took too long!
"Thank you... Mary." Erica took her water, took the very hard top off, and ate some.
"You are welcome!" I remembered this, it was manners.
I waited while everyone sat down and got their food. Nurse Gracie did not want me to use sharp things yet, or make a mess. Nurse Gracie got to my plate and set a clear tall cup on it. "We're going to try from a glass this time, and not the bag. It's more polite. You'll still have a straw though, and you better use it."
I nodded. I would try not to be messy, I already said I would before!
Nurse Gracie used the knife so well nothing spilled, and she filled the glass (a new word, I remember!). Then with the 'plunk' sound of a straw in the glass, my breakfast was ready. Nurse Gracie then put the cloth around my front so I wouldn't make a mess of my clothes.
Erica looked at my food. "Is that...?"
"It is. It is the only thing Mary can eat or drink aside from water, as her stomach doesn't actually work yet." Nurse Gracie said.
That's right, it's my food, and you can't get any, you have your own!
"Quit pouting Mary, she doesn't want your food, nice as it is. She was just curious."
What was curious? Had I been told before?
I used the straw and while it was cold, it was good.
"So how does she..?" Erica asked. She was bad at asking questions.
"We think it pools in her, where it is broken down and used to rebuild by Mary herself."
Was I doing that? I don't remember doing that, and I don't have any idea how I would. Don't you need a hammer to build stuff?
"Mary herself?"
"You know. You've seen her." Nurse Gracie said, before opening her water and taking a small drink.
Erica looked back at me. "Right, the... young lady herself."
I smiled at her, and she moved back, turning to her old food. Just like Nurse Gracie had before, so maybe that was normal to seeing my tasty food. But it was not the same as the other I's food. Maybe they didn't think it was tasty? But it was!
"How do you get it?" Erica asked.
"Donations mostly," Doctor Reg said. "Everyone here who can contributes, and I've also got a deal with the local clinic. I believe that batch is my own from some days ago."
"And you're okay with that? What if she decides she likes the taste?" Erica asked.
I dont get it. Of course I like it, or I wouldn't be eating it!
"There is almost no risk of what you propose, and I would not stop even if there were. You know what is at stake here, Mrs. Jacobs. You of all people understand what is at stake here."
What is a stake? Did I see it and just not know?
"I'll explain later, Mary." Nurse Gracie said.
She was giving Doctor Reg the same look she gave me when I fell down the stairs. Doctor Reg moved a bit back and ate a piece of brown thing.
Doctor Reg made a noise, then said: "Right, Mary, would you like some more?"
I blinked and looked down. My food was gone! How had that happened? When had that happened? I nodded.
"Go ahead. Nurse Gracie, if you would?"
Nurse Gracie looked down at her own food. She wasn't done!
"Come on Mary, let's go into the kitchen this time. Grab your glass and carry it carefully."
What was the word? I couldn't remember! I pointed at her plate, and Nurse Gracie smiled. "Don't worry Mary, I can finish it later."
Nurse Gracie grabbed my hand and we walked out. She went first and I had to hold my glass with one hand.
"Normally Mary, you'd only get one glass, because it's very important that you don't overeat. But after last night, both Doctor Reg and I think you could use a little more, just this once. It might hasten your recovery."
Has-ten? Recovery? No, don't get distracted.
"Stake?"
"Oh, that's what you were worried about? It means a vested interest. Hm, like you have a stake in what goes on in the kitchen. You want to know what happens because you live here."
Erica didn't live here. Would Erica start living here?
"Erica?"
Nurse Gracie made a wind noise. "Her stake here is a little different, but she and the Doc are friends. She gave Doctor Reg a few things in return for his help with an experiment, and it didn't pay off for her. So she's sad about that."
Nurse Gracie used her other arm to move her hair up and away from her head then looked down at me and said it again. "Just a little sad. Nothing to worry about."
"Has-ten?"
"It means to speed up, Mary. To move faster."
I liked new words. "Recovery?"
"It means to get better. Pretty soon, you'll know more than me, but you lost some of that when you took so long to wake up. In your case, recovery means you'll get all that back."
So recovery meant I would know everything, just like I had before. I didn't remember knowing everything before, but maybe I had.
Nurse Gracie smiled, and I could feel myself smiling back.
I sat down at the table and handed my glass over. Nurse Gracie grabbed more food from the fridge and filled it, and I was... happy, eating away. The taste was... great. It was great!
"Finish up Mary, then we can go play again if you want."
I nodded. I would like that very much.
......
Grace sipped her coffee, a long and leisurely filled sip. Outside she could see Mary and Fido running around the yard, playing tag. For now, it was enough to keep the little bundle of lightning occupied.
"So, did you get through to her?"
Doctor Reginald Stutz, her erstwhile boss, sipped his coffee alongside her. "I think so. She seems to realize that while the body is the same, the soul, the person, is different. I doubt she will give up all claim, but for now, she won't be doing anything court enforced."
Grace scoffed. "As if she has a legal leg to stand on. Her daughter is dead, and has been for a decade."
Doctor Stutz's answer was both instant and stern. "Be that as it may, I won't antagonize her. It is because she took a risk with me, that we got Mary."
"I didn't mean it like that, and you know it," Grace replied. "It's just been a bad day. Waking up at seven am after staying up till four because she decided on a surprise visit didn't help."
"She didn't really have a choice. The others put her up to it; dropped a word or two in her mouth and let her imagination fill in the blanks."
"What do you intend to do about them?" Gracie asked. There would be trouble either way, she was sure of it.
"I don't know, but it's pretty clear something needs to be done. Something proactive. I might call him in on it.
There was only one 'him', and Grace had to work to keep the distaste off her face. "Are you sure you want to do that? The cost... "
Doctor Stutz turned to her. "The cost will be more than I want to pay, certainly. But he will be involved eventually regardless of what I do, and his involvement would stop the others cold, one way or the other. None of us will even need to dirty our hands."
"I don't like it."
Doctor Stutz sighed. "I know, and I don't either, but you know who they are as well as I do. They broke in here, and they will do it again. Unless they are convinced otherwise, of course."
Outside, it seemed the games were winding down. "Alright, it's your call to make, both literally and figuratively. I'll go get the little bundle of energy and see if I can convince her to sleep."
"What a great idea, we could all use some. I'll try and get him to set a time, this time."
"Thanks, that would make my job easier. Say, sir..."
"Doc is fine Grace, I've told you that. what is it?"
Grace smiled, an impish grin. "Sir, how close is she?"
Doctor Stutz paused a moment - a long moment that was just one side of uncomfortable - before answering. "She is very close. Some things are different, and of course she's not as mature, but it's easy to see the person I once knew. We have succeeded in that much, at least."
Grace bowed on her way out the door. "I see. Thanks for sharing with me."
The darkness let me go, and I my face moved when I found the light. A smile? A smile, yes... I greeted the light surrounding everything that was with a smile.
But something was different. I was different. I knew what different was, and that I was - different that is. I knew more from before, and I knew that I did.
My bed was empty, but not empty because I was in it. Nurse Gracie had been here last night, reading me a story. I looked at the book, and the writing was still squiggles. I put the book down and went under the warm blankets again. Why were blankets warm, and other things were not?
The door made noise - that meant someone was hitting it.
The someone was Nurse Gracie. "Mary, are you awake?"
I made noise, I couldn't help it. It was the same noise that Nurse Gracie had made before when I moved her.
"I heard that! I'm coming in!"
Nurse Gracie took the blankets away, and she had a smile. She held out a... hand? A hand.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
I was different. I let Nurse Gracie pull me up, and followed. In the room of baths, I took my clothes off as she did the same. We cleaned up here... why? There was a thing, a reason, but it was gone as soon as I saw it. But not saw it, there was another speech... it too was gone.
I couldn't stop another sound, and Nurse Gracie turned from the water to me, with no smile. "What's wrong Mary?"
I worked to find the speech, and my hands worked too. Why were they doing that? I had not told them to do that. Had I?
"Mary?"
Nurse Gracie wanted speech. Speech I did not know. "Things... speech. There but then gone. I don't... Mary doesn't...."
Nurse Gracie grabbed me, and it felt nice. "Its okay. Just take your time and work it out when you can. You can take forever if you need to."
Forever... something... I knew that word, somehow. It was an amount or something. I knew things. Why did I know these things? I had been, I had lived before. I knew these things then.
Yes, I had lived before. There was I before! That was... something.
Nurse Gracie helped me wash up, and I helped her too. Why were people not able to wash easily? Why was washing something I's did? So many things to know. Hands needed to work in other ways.
"Mary, don't do that, you'll break something - you'll hurt your hand, and then it won't work for awhile."
What? It could do that? That was bad, so I stopped.
Nurse Gracie said something about 'needing pain' very softly. Was she trying not to let me hear?
Nurse Gracie grabbed the water-thing and sprayed me; her hand near my... face. The Water did not get to my... something. The stuff I used to see, and that was why I could still see. Seeing was believing - and other things.
Nurse Gracie finished wiping the stuff out of my... hair, and stood up, out of reach. That was no fair, since I couldn't help her!
"What's wrong, Mary?"
I... what was the speech? I put my hand where Nurse Gracie had, and moved my hand.
Nurse Gracie knew anyway. "Oh its fine Mary, I know how to do this part myself. If you watch carefully, you can learn to do it too."
So I looked (watched) as Nurse Gracie moved her hands over the top of her head, in her... hair. While pointing her... smile up. She turned off the water and got a towel from the ones next to us, and used it on herself first. Then she threw it into the corner of the room, and got a... second one? Second one.
That one was for I. Nurse Gracie ran the cloth over me, top first. It felt nice. "Got a big day today, Mary. We're going to have another guest."
A guest? What was a guest? I felt like I should know....
"Don't worry Mary," Nurse Gracie kept speeching. "You'll like Isiah. He's a bit serious, but he will play with you if you ask."
I liked playing... I think? Was that the word? Yes, Nurse Gracie had used the word yesterday, when we... tagged. Played tag? Yes, that was right.
Nurse Gracie was right! Today would be a big day!
Nurse Gracie grabbed me. "Oh no little miss. Clothes first, then you can go outside."
Oh, right. Clothes. Nurse Gracie pulled something over my head... a dress? Right, a dress. I was wearing dresses now and had been since I knew. This one was a color that I did not know.
I looked to the other colors, those around me. They were not the same. The socks Nurse Gracie grabbed from the same chair the dress came from, those were the same. One for each foot. Why only two feet? Why only feet? So much to... know, right. So many questions.
Nurse Gracie grabbed my hand and took me to the bed. She put me on it, and I looked as she put my socks on. So I would know how to do that too. Then she put more clothes on me, some small thing that went between my legs. She pulled it up until it stopped, and then nodded to herself.
"There, all done except for your boots. Stay there while I get them please, Mary."
I would stay; if I did, maybe I could stay on the bed longer. Something... it felt. It felt nice, that was it.
Nurse Gracie finished doing my boots though, and moved to pull me up. She could not. "Come on, Mary. Let's go get breakfast."
Breakfast... food. Food sounded... good to me. I wanted food so I let Nurse Gracie move me from the bed. Nurse Gracie almost fell, but she held on to me.
I... me... my lower part made noise. It really wanted food.
I wanted to meet the other I. Meeting other I's was always fun.
Nurse Gracie pulled me along, and I was happy to go. I didn't want to go ahead or stay behind; I could hurt Nurse Gracie if I tried.
We made it to the food room, and Nurse Gracie took me to my chair. Doctor Reg was already there, eating something with a fork. I did not need a fork; that was because my food was not like doctor Reg's food.
Nurse Gracie took... no, grabbed my food from the box of food and put the straw in. Straw? Yes, straw... that was the word. Straw also meant something else; an...image of a long yellow thing came to me; that was also straw.
Maybe they were both straw because they resembled each other? Both were long and thin, only the color was different.
Nurse Gracie handed me the.. bag, yes bag, with the straw in it. I did what I was supposed to and sucked on the straw. The food flowed into... me, yes that was right, and I did something to gulp it down. Something I didn't need to wonder about doing, it just happened. It was cold.
Then there was no more, the red color almost gone and the bag mostly empty.
I wanted more. "Nurse Gracie."
She turned from her own food, which was like doctor Reg's food. I hadn't seen her eat before, and she did the deed like doctor Reg did. "Yes Mary?"
I held out the bag. "More?"
Doctor Reg dropped his fork. That was... clumsy of him. Yes, clumsy.
"I don't think I should give you more Mary, your stomach can only hold so much of that at a time. Too much might be bad for you."
But it was good! It helped, I could tell it helped. I was... better.
No, Nurse Gracie knew more. She could be right, despite the goodness. I gave up and instead threw the bag where it was to go when empty.
"Well done, Mary. Thank you for throwing it away."
She smiled at me - beamed a smile at me, so I beamed one back at her. I liked smiles, they could be everywhere in an instant.
Still, I wanted more. More of something.
"Don't pout Mary, its unbecoming." Nurse Gracie said, in between bites.
I didn't know what unbecoming meant, but Nurse Gracie made it sound like a bad thing. Something I didn't want.
But what was pout, and how did I stop it? Nurse Gracie hadn't said.
Nurse Gracie bobbed her head. "That's better."
I did not understand.
"How about something else, Mary? A different kind of food?"
I wanted it!
Doctor Reg walked over to a different box, and opened that up. He took out a... box, yes, a box, pulled another, smaller straw from the side of it, and put the straw in. Then held it out to me.
"Try this."
I took the box and sucked on the straw... and something, a different color, a different... exploded into me. It was.. good. It was something I needed, something I wanted.
Doctor Reg could tell. "You like it Mary? It's called grape juice."
I nodded. "I like it."
I wanted more, but I felt something. Too much. I walked over and held the box over where the bag was.
"That's right, Mary. Throw it in." Doctor Reg said with a smile.
I beamed a smile back at him and threw it in. It bounced, then settled on top of the bag.
"You need not throw quite so hard, Mary. A simple toss will do," Nurse Gracie told me.
"We will work on it Mary. That is where trash goes. Trash are things that have no use or function anymore. That box and bag are empty, so their usefulness has ended."
Couldn't they do other things? Couldn't the box and bag hold other things?
"She doesn't like that answer, Doctor." Nurse Gracie said.
"I know, it is a bad answer... but both of them are dirty now. They have some of the darkness in them. No, no! Not that bad. Just a little bit... not enough to hurt anyone, unless you use them again."
I was against the cool stone, as far away from the darkness things as I could get. Doctor Reg moved his hands at me.... he was gesturing. Yes, gesturing me closer. "It's alright Mary, these things cant hurt you. See how close I am? They can't hurt you."
Nurse Gracie gave Doctor Reg a look. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I knew it meant something. Why did it mean something?
"It's ok Mary," she said. Then she touched the box! "See? No harm done. It only happens if you use it again."
I grabbed her hand, moving it away. She seemed fine, there was no blackness there; just fingers.
Nurse Gracie beamed another smile down at me: "See? it's fine."
What was the proper response? "Yes."
Nurse Gracie pulled against my hand, so rather than hurt her I let her go. She smiled more, and that was great. Smiles meant a person was happy. I wanted Nurse Gracie to be happy.
Why did I want Nurse Gracie to be happy?
That was an odd thought. A weird thought. Maybe a bad thought? Why would it be a bad thought? What was a bad thought? What was thought?
I knew that one. Thought was what I was doing now. It was words in my head... or more.
"Mary, are you okay?" Nurse Gracie asked.
I was okay. "Yes!"
Nurse Gracie smiled again.
The door made noise again, just like yesterday. Yes, yesterday. There was a yesterday!
Fido made a dog noise. "Woof, woof."
I could tell he was down the hall... and what a dog noise was. Why did dogs make that noise? Why did Fido make that noise?
He was responding to the door noise. That was it! Another... awareness? No that wasn't right, but it was all I had... another awareness of how the world worked. Dogs responded to other sounds with sounds.
Humans did too, but their sounds made more sense?
Maybe the dogs made sense too, if I could speak dog. I already knew that Fido said 'woof'. Woof might mean 'person here'?
I wanted to ask Nurse Gracie, but she was already moving on her way to the door.
I wasn't being held this time! I followed, and Doctor Reg didn't stop me. Neither did Randolph. Where was Randolph? I hadn't seen him yet today. Yes, today was today, or now.
He was probably in his room. Was he alright? Had he eaten food yet?
Had the little darkness let him go yet?
Or had it got him?
No, I needed to know, now. I didn't want to lose another other I to the darkness. Randolph even read me stories! I wanted more of those. But a new other I was here, on the other side of the big door. What to do?
Doctor Reg was behind me. I pointed back, to Randolph's door. Doctor Reg looked that way, then shook his head.
"What is it, Mary? You know the words. Tell me."
"Randolph."
Doctor Reg stopped. "What about Randolph, Mary?"
I couldn't stop. What were the words? Ah! "Check on," and the most important word. "Please."
"There is no need for that, Mary. Randolph is fine. Simply sleeping. Here, I'll prove it to you."
Doctor Reg started moving again, and pressed the thing on his wrist. "Randolph, are you okay?"
A voice came out of the thing. A voice I recognized: "I'm fine doctor, what's up?"
Randolph's voice sounded different, but I knew it was him.
"Mary was worried about you, and wanted me to check on you."
"Well that is sweet," Randolph said through the thing again. "but you can tell her I'm fine. No problems here. You going to answer that knocking?"
"We are on our way now," Doctor Reg said.
"Good, it's an...." Randolph's voice stopped.
Still, he said he was fine. Fine was a word meaning well, or okay. I could go to the big door without worry. Worry? Yes that was the right word. Concern for or over another.
Nurse Gracie reached the big door at the bottom of the stairs and stuck her face close to it for a moment. That was... I don't know what that was, but it allowed me to catch up without doing my stair trick; Nurse Gracie did not approve of my stair trick.
Stairs were difficult. Doctor Reg slowed to grab me by an arm. Yes, an arm - that was another good word.
Doctor Reg pulled, slowing me down. He made a face too, one that I wanted to do too. I thought I was doing it right, then he smiled. Smiles were the best.
Nuse Gracie opened the door as we got to the bottom of the stairs. On the other side of it...
Was another I. My size, not Nurse Gracie or Doctor Reg size. He was a he, I was sure, and he was thin, with black hair, a white (but not as white as mine) body, and blue eyes.
Blue eyes that seemed to see everything, all in a moment. He was dressed in a smaller coat like Doctor Reg's, and had tan pants on with a shirt the color of the sky. Blue, yes. All these words! I had so many words now, all mine!
His blue eyes snapped to me and he looked for a long time. "Holy shit Doc, you actually did it. I saw the data and footage, but I half thought you were screwing with me. Well done."
Doctor Reg let go of my hand and stood up straight. "I would never lie to my sponsors, especially one as important as you."
What was a sponsor? What was especially?
The other I turned to me again, and grabbed some kind of thing from his coat. He got closer.
I moved behind Nurse Gracie; this other I... there was something about him.
"You're scaring her," Nurse Gracie said. What was scaring?
"My bad," the other I said. "My name is Isaac, and you're Mary. It's nice to meet you. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? This..." He moved his thing in front of him; it looked like a box! "This won't hurt you at all. I'm just going to wave it in front of you. Like this."
He moved it back and forth.
Nurse Gracie moved away, but grabbed my hand. "Don't worry Mary, he won't hurt you. It'll be alright."
I remembered... remembered! Another good word! I remembered not to squeeze, as Nurse Gracie would get hurt if I did.
"Okay... so we've got electrical activity, and it looks to be mirroring neural activity, but its weirdly diffused... the body is two full degrees above room temperature, which implies some form of heat generation. Eyes show a pupillary response and the body is upright and moving."
What did it all mean?
"It means you're alive, Mary." Isaac said. "Wow, she's very expressive, Doc. No filter at all."
"I know. We're all very proud."
Isaac got closer. "You can see the gears turn, too. Something is going on up there. Well, not up there exactly, around there, but...."
The box was right in front of me. I knocked it away, gently. "Play."
Other I's my size should play. They should play with me.
Isaac picked his box up. It didn't have the darkness in it, but had colored lights instead. "Play, huh? Sure. But can we play the games I know?"
I only knew tag, so new games were a good thing. Weren't they? "Yes!"
"Great!" Isaac said with a faint smile. "But we can't play them here. We need to go upstairs, to the lab."
That was... fine, yes fine with me! I knew where the lab was!
"Mary, slow down!" Nurse Gracie said.
I passed Fido on the stairs. "Woof," he said.
"Oh hey Fido, how's it going?"
"Can't really complain," Fido replied. (replied was a word!) "Oh wait, yes I can. When are you going to make a real body for me?"
"When I find the time," Isaac replied. "Until then, you'll just have to hang out. Maybe if you ask real nice the Doc will take a second stab at it?"
Fido gave Isaac a look, a weird look. "I think I'll pass on that, thanks."
Doctor Reg gave them both a weird look too, but he didn't say anything.
Isaac led us all up the stairs again, and he knew the way because we kept going. "How are you, Grace?" He said... no, asked. He asked!
"I've been well," Nurse Gracie answered. Why would she answer that? She was Nurse Gracie, not this Grace person!
Unless... she was both? Could she be both, somehow? Something told me she could.
"And Randolph? Phil?" Isaac asked.
"Both well, or as well as can be, given their circumstances. Both are stable, at least." Nurse Gracie answered.
"That's good," Isaac said. "Let me know if that changes, I'll help."
"Despite what you think Isaac, I am not...." Doctor Reg said.
"I know Doc, you do your best, and your best is good. However, we both know I'm better, when I have time. For your projects, for your data, I can make time. That's all I'm saying. You got some nice people around you; you want to do right by them, don't you?"
Do right by them? What did that mean? It meant something important... but what?
Doctor Reg made a noise. "I just don't appreciate the sentiment, Isaac."
"I know Doc, and I am cheating in a way, but... well, you can handle it. The important thing is the goal, isn't it?"
What was a goal?
"You know it is," Doctor Reg responded... responded! "The goal is more important than any amount of petty ego. On that, we can both agree."
What was ego? Ego was something... bad, I think? Maybe?
Isaac turned around, still moving... walking? Yes, walking on the stairs. "It's okay Doc, I didn't mean what you think I meant by it. I'm even less good with people than you are. Got to remember."
Then he looked at me. "She okay?"
"She has trouble with stairs. For some obvious reasons, she's not the most agile of us." Nurse Grace answered.
Then she turned to me, and held out her hand. "One hand on the rail there, and give me the other Mary. I'll help you."
Nurse Gracie wanted my hand... but should I let her have it? I needed it!
I took her hand, and she helped pull me up. So that was what she wanted? All she wanted? She would have to do something to keep my hand, and she wasn't.
We walked around the rest of the way in silence. Doctor Reg moved past Isaac at the landing. He pulled out a metal stick he had and put it in the door. The door opened with a click, and he gestured.
Isaac went in first, and Doctor Reg followed. Then Nurse Gracie helped me up and in, and Fido followed us all. Fido didn't close the door - because Fido didn't have hands.
Just as I thought, hands were important. Nurse Gracie already had her own though!
Maybe I could talk to Doctor Reg, and get him to give Fido some hands. Hands were useful.
"Come on Mary, come up here." Doctor Reg said.
Here was the table I was normally on when in the lab; doctor Reg was waiting with a smile. I walked (Walked!) up and doctor Reg put me up on the table; why was his face red?
I was on the table. I could kick my feet, but I did not, because I had been told not to do that and I remembered. I wanted to.
Isaac moved close and he put some sort of thing near my eyes; it hurt. Then he pulled a pen from his coat, and wrote on... a piece of paper? Yes, it was paper. Pens were used on paper, and nothing else. I remembered.
Isaac pulled another thing from his coat. It was a box, and made of wood. It had some... markings on it.
"The goal, is to make the markings match. You twist the box around like so," He said, demonstrating. "Gently, because breaking it ruins the game. The fastest one to solve it, to get all the designs right, wins."
Designs, not markings... twisting, not moving. Or a type of moving? Something.
Isaac held the box out and I took it, carefully. "Now, I'm going to be doing other things while you take your turn. You know what turns are, right?"
I nodded. I knew what turns were. Nurse Gracie and I took turns for showers. So I would go first.
"Some of the things I do will be to you. Nothing bad, so don't let it bother you, and don't let it stop you, okay? This game is all about speed."
I nodded again. I would do my best!
"Okay, go!"
I shifted the first panel, slowly and carefully at first to make sure I didn't break it. To break it was to lose. Slow and careful would... something.
Isaac put a thing around my arm, and used his hand to make it squeeze me. That was easy to ignore. Whatever he wanted, he did not get; he looked.. mad. Yes, mad, that was it.
The next thing he did was grab a thing, a sharp thing, pull up my clothes and jab me with it!
That was unfair!
"Mary, Mary, its okay! Its okay!" Nurse Gracie said.
"Whoa, she felt that?" Isaac asked.
Doctor Reg was mad too. "Of course she felt it. You need to warn us, she could have...."
Who? Which she could have?
It didn't matter. "You're a jerk."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." Isaac said. "I'll make it up to you with another game, okay?"
That was okay.
Isaac was looking at the sharp thing in his hand; it was full of black stuff. Was that stuff inside me? How was it inside me? That sharp thing was for bringing stuff inside a person out, I knew that....
Was it the darkness?
"Darkness?"
"No Mary, it's dark, but not the darkness. This is you. Or a piece of you, anyway. Don't worry, I'll be giving it back to you in just a bit. You need to work on the puzzle box there; time is ticking.
The box was a puzzle box? What was a puzzle box? Time could tick? How could time tick?
"Hm, constant charge, just beginning to fade... minus 2 volts... some activity; motion with no musculature, which means the cells morph into muscular structure somehow. Complete autonomy? I wonder how far away we can get from her before this goes dormant. Whatever, its not a big deal to test that right now. The real question is how much this knows or realizes."
I didn't understand the words at all. That was fine, I had a puzzle box. Isaac was being mean to me, but I would win the game, and that would show him!
The puzzle box kept changing though, and it was... weird how the markings changed.
Isaac did other things, like tapping me with a.. tool and putting sticky things on me for a bit so machines could beep. I was used to that part; Doctor Reg had done the same before.
"Seems like her level of current slowly erodes over time... as if it is being used. Good to know. The amount also seems to be stable. Her reserves are still good, but because of the old nerves, it is possible not everything is receiving the same charge. We should probably use probes and make sure... the body is healing, or rather, it is being forcibly healed. Some functions seem to be nearing some semblance of normal function already. For example, this heart could probably start beating now, if we jump started it. The brain looks alright...."
"I've noticed as much myself," doctor Reg said. "It seems to be related to Mary herself. She is giving some of herself to heal it."
"Of course," Isaac said. "Mary takes food, multiplies, then uses it to shore things up. Makes sense. Have you tried anything else besides blood?"
"No," doctor Reg said (replied) "We didn't want to risk arrest. I've little doubt it would speed the process up, but there are a variety of reasons to just do things more or less legally."
"Good point," Isaac said. "What about instinct? Have you noticed any?"
"None," doctor Reg replied. "Mary has been an exceptionally bright and nice child so far."
I knew what that meant. I beamed a smile at Doctor Reg, and he beamed one back at me.
Isaac made a noise I didn't know. "You two, I swear. Mary, you're not hungry, are you?"
I wasn't. Well, not really. So I shook my head. That meant no, and I knew it! Nurse Gracie had been right all along!
"Right, too much to hope for, I guess. I'll just do a few things while I'm here, assuming you have no objections Doc?"
"I've no objections," Doctor Reg said. "So long as you document it all. I can handle filling in the results."
"How are you doing on that puzzle, Mary?" Isaac asked.
I showed him the box. I wasn't sure if I was at the goal or not.
Isaac took it from me and looked it over, then handed it back. "Very good Mary, you're close. Keep at it."
Isaac handed me the box again, and I started again. I would beat him! He was talking about other people and not paying att... atten... heed to me, so I would win for sure!
Isaac spent some time sticking other things to me and turning on machines. They made me tickle, sometimes. But even with that, I would fix (solve) this!
A few moves later, I did.
I handed it back to Isaac and he whistled. Which sounded like fun of course, so I did it too.
Isaac was better at whistling than I was.
"Well done Mary, that's a level 7 puzzle. No easy feat to solve at all, and you got it in just a couple of hours."
I smiled. Then he kept talking.
"I've beaten it in ten minutes though. So I win."
I wanted to throw the box at him, but I'd already given it back. "Jerk. You beat it first!"
"I never said I hadn't, consider it a lesson. Still, you did well. Many people can't even solve that puzzle, and when they do, it takes them several hours or days. You are pretty smart... or have the capacity to be."
I didn't know what all that meant... but it didn't seem like Isaac was being mean. So I no longer wanted to throw things at him.
"Well, what do you think?" Doctor Reg asked? Asked.
Isaac answered while taking all the stuff he'd put on me off. Thankfully the tickling stopped. "You did good Doc. You did real good."
Then he turned to me. "Hold out your hands, okay?"
I did, and he put another box, a different box, in each one. "That's for you. Let me know when you beat them, okay?"
"Yes!" Maybe I could beat him on these.
"Got to go for now. Take care of yourself. Take it easy on the stairs, okay?"
I did not know what 'take it easy' meant... to take stairs? But stairs didn't move. I nodded anyway; if I could 'take it easy' I would. Everyone was so nice, they all meant well for me.
I knew that, somehow.
"Doc, walk me out? It's fine, the Doc is enough."
But I wanted to come!
"Mary, should we go see what Randolph is doing? He could still be asleep...." Nurse Gracie asked.
Ah! we should check! The darkness may have Randolph, at least the little one! "Yes!"
I moved, and Nurse Gracie grabbed my hand. "Mary, slow down! Let's go carefully, okay?"
I couldn't move (pull) Mary, so I slowed. Everyone else went ahead of us, even Fido.
Fido looked back and grinned, and it wasn't a smile. I didn't like it.
Nurse Gracie saw it too: "Fido, behave yourself, or someone might forget your food."
"Oh no, anything but that," Fido said, hurrying down the stairs on his four legs. Four legs was cheating, just like Isaac doing puzzles first! I knew it was!
What else was cheating? There were many things that were....
"Mary, take hold of the railing, like this. Grab it, there you go. We walk down, slowly, there you go."
Everyone else was gone by the time we reached the ground... no, not ground. Floor? The floor. We headed to Randolph's door, and Nurse Gracie knocked on it.
I wanted to knock too, so I did.
"Come in already!" Randolph said.
Randolph had that look on that I'd seen other people wear, but it changed when we came in. "Hello Grace. Hello Mary."
"Hello Randolph!" I said. Randolph was in bed like normal, with books spread around him. I jumped up and joined him there, looking. None of the books looked like the right one. The right one had a giant guy on the cover, who was showing lots of teeth. He wasn't happy either. He was very lonely, even with all the people around him. Even with his mom there. I still didn't really know what a mom was, but it sounded important to have.
He was bad, because he took people to the darkness, but it was still hard not to worry? Worry about him, because he was so lonely. Even if it was all made up.
I wanted to know the end.
"So you've come to hear the rest, have you?"
I did, but there was another thing. "Are you okay?"
Okay was a word meaning 'well'. I knew it.
Randolph looked different again. I knew what it was, what was the word? "I'm fine, Mary. Just a bit tired, but then I'm always tired. There is no need to worry about me just yet."
Sur... surprise? Was that it? Randolph no longer looked like that, whatever it was.
"Now Mary, you'll have to help me. The book we were reading fell off the bed, near the wall there. Can you go under the bed and get it for me?"
"No, wait, Mary!"
What was the problem? I could go under the bed, so I did. I found the book, and it was the right one, with the toothed man on it. There were a few others, so I grabbed those too.
Nurse Gracie was looking at me, and she made a noise. "You're covered in dust now...."
What was dust? Oh, was it this stuff, on my clothes? Was it like yesterday, when I got other stuff on my clothes? No, my hand moved it, so it came off.
Nurse Gracie pulled out a cloth. "Come here," she said, and touched me all over with the cloth. "Don't do that again, Randolph. It's not funny."
Randolph was looking at the books I'd found. He held one up. "I wondered where that one got to; I should have known. Thank you, Mary - and I won't, Grace. I just didn't think about under there, since you always do such a good job cleaning."
"Flatterer. Your punishment is you get to read to Mary."
Randolph did a thing with his eyes. It looked fun so I tried it too, and it was as fun as I thought it would be.
"The rest of the day. If you finish, you're starting another. You get to watch her while I get some work done."
"Grace, wait, that's not...."
Nurse Gracie moved, and waved before shutting the door. "Enjoy yourselves."
I waved back, even though Nurse Gracie could no longer see. I knew she knew I'd done it.
"I looked at Randolph, and Randolph looked at me. Then he made a noise - a sigh? - and said. "Alright, fine. Settle in Mary, Let's get started. Just let me find where we left off."
It was bedlam; utter chaos. Yelling, screaming, crying, sobbing, and all the cars and trucks both streaming past at breakneck speed and broken or bogged down in the mud.
Most of us had already learned that of the drivers of the motor vehicles, only the drab green vehicles driven by the nations remaining military cared about hitting anyone. The bodies were dragged from the treacherous roads and left there. Sometimes they were rifled; you never could tell who might have a ticket, after all.
Dad, and I turned the corner carefully, and saw it; just as it appeared on television.
The Ponce De Leon, final of the colony ships. Sitting right on the ground, unlike the others that were built in orbit, it was made predominately of alien technologies with much of the remaining resources on the planet. Sludow Technology to us, though they told us the tech was actually a mix of technology and ideas from other races. It looked the part, a weirdly shaped lozenge with oddly angled protrusions of unknown purpose.
It was salvation, and it was close.
Too close, judging by the crowd. The fear, the desperation, was evident. The crowd surged against the walls, great constructs of chiseled stone and reinforced steel. I could still see the scars of the fourth and seventh attack on them, and the attack on the gates themselves. They were manned by the military of every country that was still a country, who walked the top with grim eyes and ready weapons.
I pulled my shabby jacket tighter and followed my Dad as he did his best to forge the path. The important thing was to look like we weren't rich, influential, or important, Dad had said days ago. It seemed he was right; the line was enormous, and full of people who were dressed very well.
If you looked closely, you could spot the ones who were eating well too, marking the real rich instead of the thieves and vultures trying to fake it. Of course both groups were well armed, and both were on the lookout for our kind; for people like Dad and me.
You couldn't even get in with work passes anymore; too many people had killed others, both legitimate workers and passengers alike; now the workers lived inside the fence and other arrangements had been made for passengers.
There, near a burned out truck, marked with some graffiti we'd been told to look for; a man in rags huddled around a fire. Dad hadn't seen it, so I stomped his foot and pointed with a finger on my chest.
As we got close, slowly, the man stood up; under his ragged coat came the black gleam of a very expensive sub-machine gun - something that it was unlikely a homeless man would keep, even in this day and age.
"Come warm yourselves by the fire, strangers." He stated clearly.
My response was to put my left foot over my right and fake a trip. when he moved to catch me, one handed, I pressed a hard plastic chip in the form of an octogon in his hand; my boarding pass.
"You alright?" he asked me, looking past me where the people milled. I hoped none of them were paying attention but I didn't dare check.
I heard a faint beep come from the man's arm, and he nodded. "Follow me" he whispered, and then all but yelled about the need to find a doctor to look at my ankle because I was a clumsy idiot. He slurred his words and shuffled around... but all of that changed when he got to the other side of the truck.
The other side of the truck faced the wall; not close enough to make climbing it possible, and the drag marks were still pretty evident. But on then other side, were two more homeless that weren't, and I thought I could spot twice as many guards at this section of the wall then the gates themselves.
Our guide ducked low, into a cardboard box, and vanished. I was about to follow when a hand emerged and pulled me in. The guide loomed before me, a finger on his lips. I nodded.
The cardboard box hid a hole cut out of the back of the oil tanker. The interior was dimly lit with a series of screens showing the area around the tanker. There were cots for three in the corner, and two crates off to the side, forming a kind of barricade. In the other corner was what looked and smelled like a dead dog.
A moment later Dad came in behind me, looking around and holding his nose. Behind him, one of the men from just outside, one hand on my Dad and one hand gripping a very modern looking black gun.
The man looked around, then grinned. "Whew, old Rover gets more fragrant every time I step in here."
"That's not true, Reynolds, and you know it." The first said, turning to one screen and moving my pass under it. It beeped, and the screen switched to show my face and vital stats, as well as the fact that I'd passed all the tests. The man turned back to me and looked right into my eyes a long moment... then pinched my face, painfully.
"Right, all on the up and up here. Sorry, some people have tried masks before, as well as contacts to foo the retinal scans. So we have to go old school and actually use people. Everything checks out.
The man then turned and scooted himself over to the dog; lifting the entire thing up revealed it was nothing more than a very realistic fake, with a ladder underneath the trap door.
The second man winked. "No animals were harmed in the making of this passage."
"Knock it off, Reynolds." The first man said with annoyance clear in his voice. A did something else, unhooked a wire. Then he turned to me, and his tone softened - with respect? "After you, sir."
"Thank you, sir." Clearly this man at least was a soldier.
There was gloom below me, darkness uncut by any hint of light. I started down into it and a sharp light snapped on, harsh and bright. The ladder went down about ten feet into a crude earthen tunnel, propped up with large slabs of rough wood.
And there, next to my head, was what could only be a shaped charge of explosives. What the soldier had just disarmed. In case of discovery, I suppose.
I set foot on the ground below, and looked up to find the soldier right behind me, or above me. I was right, I saw with relief; his boots were ragged, but his pants were clearly fatigues, and of my country.
I moved before he could come down on me. The soldier waved a hand in the air and then started forward, his gun slung behind him. "Come on, it looks bad, but it's safe enough."
We were heading in the direction of the wall, lights snapping on ahead of us, and snapping off behind us. I looked, and my father smiled as he urged me ahead. Behind him the other soldier walked, his gun also out of sight but his manner serious.
I was grateful for that, I'd heard stories of people fooled before, and their fate.
A sign nailed into one of the support beams announced I was now under the wall; it had a smiley face and a peace sign under the words. Our guide kept going without stopping.
The last light snapped on, and we came to the end; another ladder, set against hard packed dirt.
"Alright, up you go." my guide stated, turning to me.
"What about you?" sudden cold fear hammered my heart. The last thing I wanted was to go up into the waiting arms of bandits or worse; I had heard the stories.
The guide shook his head. "If I head up I'll probably get shot as a deserter. Reynolds can't go up either."
Assuming this wasn't a scam, they were that strict?!? "but you're helping them!"
The guide blew a breath. "I didn't pass the tests. Neither did Reynolds. And we both don't have clearance, so we aren't allowed past the wall, for any reason."
I turned to my Dad, who was staring at the ladder; Reynold's large hand on his shoulder.
"Dad...?" My Dad hadn't passed those tests either.
"Go on son, we knew it would come to this eventually."
I rushed back and into his arms. He patted my back awkwardly; he had never been as close to me as Mom.
It didn't matter, this was wrong. I should stay with him; he would die alone, otherwise. He grabbed my shoulders and pushed me back.
"You need to go. You need to try to live, for both of us. For humanity."
My view of him swam in my tears before I wiped them away. My Dad matched the motion, then smiled. "Go on Son. We can't take too long."
I climbed. My last view before shoving the hatch aside was my father, looking longingly at the ladder.
Going through the hatch was like stepping into another world; everything was white and clean, with tile and unblemished glass. I held my pass up so there were no misunderstandings.
Even the voice coming through the speakers set into the walls of this little room was sanitized. "Please take off your clothes."
Well I guess I was actually at the right place. I set my backpack behind me and undressed; the water that hit me next was hot, smelled vaguely like disinfectant, and was almost stinging in it's force. I didn't worry, my backpack was waterproof.
Then it switched to cold for a full minute, and I was clean.
A large fluffy towel slid it's way into the room from a slot in the door as soon as the water cut off. "Dry off. Dress in the clothes provided."
Oh, there were clothes under the towel - they looked like medical scrubs, dark blue in color - and were more clean than anything I had.
I dried carefully and put them on. The voice rang again when I bent to get my pack.
"Stop. Do not worry about your belongings, they will be checked and repacked for your convenience and brought to you. It is far more important you stay as clean as possible, to avoid contamination."
Well, they had the guns. I hoped they would leave my album alone. Thousands of pictures detailing my family, our past, and the places we had lived, going back almost a thousand years. It was the only thing I had left of home. The clothes and toiletries would be no great loss if they didn't make it.
"Any weapons?" The voice asked.
They knew that one already; I could see the cameras. "None."
The door lock clicked. "Dry the soles of your feet, then step out."
I did as instructed, finding the light in my face, blinding me. By the time it was cleared and I could make out details I could easily have been killed.
The first thing I saw when I blinked the stars out of my eyes were the two gunman in American military fatigues, both giving me hard stares and not quite pointing their guns at me.
Just behind those was a young woman, perhaps twenty-five, with light brown hair cut short, and a cute face sporting a plastic smile. Her figure was slim but mostly hidden by the pink scrubs she wore. She had a nametag that read: "Emily"
"I'm Emily," she announced uncessarily. "Welcome to point Z, Mr. Stone."
"I'm Daniel; my father is Mr. Stone." I said absently. Point Z was apparently a room that was a twin to the one I just left, with a sort of reinforced door at the other end of it and fewer water nozzles in the ceiling.
She didn't skip a beat. "Right then Daniel, can you hold your pass out ofr me?"
I did and one of the soldiers walked yup warily and took it, silently.He walked backwards to where Emily was waiting for it.
"Have you guys had a lot of trouble with this route?"
"No, we haven't had a single breach," Emily replied. The soldiers both stayed silent. "But you can never be too careful where the fate of all humanity is involved, I've found."
Which meant there had been 'breaches' somewhere, and probably other than the attacks and riots on the wall itself.
Emily strung a fine chain into a clamp, then crimped it onto my pass. "Um, don't you need to check it?"
Emily grinned. "Already done. You were checked outside, and then again in the clean room, right down to the genetic level. You are without a doubt Daniel Stone, sixteen, male, the proper owner of this pass, and quite healthy."
Both soldiers stayed silent, but they lowered their weapons further, and there was less hesitation to approach in order to hand my pass back.
"Wear that around your neck; it's your safe passage." Emily ordered, and I scrambled to do just that as she turned.
"Follow me; don't worry about your belongings, they will be searched for contraband of course, but anything legal to keep will be returned to you."
Now i felt guilty. "I feel I should tell you there is a multi-tool in my bag, complete with knife and saw. It's legal, but... "
"But can be considered a weapon," one of the soldiers interrupted surprisingly. "Don't worry kid, we have to confiscate it but you'll get it back at the end of the funhouse ride."
I wasn't actually worried about getting it back; it was a nice tool, but tools for us to do our jobs had been promised for us once we made planetfall. Wherever that would happen.
Both soldiers stayed behind as I followed Emily out the door.
There was a hall beyond it, made of glass and steel, with what looked to be a vault door on the other end. The windows were darkened, and impossible to see through.
"Easy to get lost, eh?" Emily said, turning back with a grin as she spun the wheel.
The door clicked open and swung wide. Beyond it was a fantastic sight; a thriving, bustling, town. Almost a city. That it was military in origin, that there were men in fatigues of various countries rushing to and fro, carrying loads or papers or pads, several buildings including a recognizable store and even barber shop.
A snapshot of society. The last snapshot, the last hurrah of orderly human society on Earth. And above it all, the Ponce De Leon, the gleam from the sun on it's hull painful at this distance. It looked much larger from this side of the wall.
Emily handed me a handkerchief; it was clean, freshly laundered, with just a hint of a complex perfume, "Impressive, isn't it?"
I dabbed my eyes gratefully. "It certainly is."
"Keep it. I have more."
I pocketed the thing. "Thank you."
Soldiers marching by, even foreign ones, took one look at me and nodded, respectfully.
"Well, your hair is a little shaggy but you don't need a haircut. Clothes are covered, food will be covered - are you hungry? Thirsty?"
"A bit thirsty is all. All those dorms?" I asked, pointing at what looked like apartment buildings.
"In a way," Barracks on the ground floor, living quarters for the rest of us on the upper floors. And by us, I mean the people who make this whole process work. You'll be staying somewhere different."
Emily grinned like a cat, wide and knowing.
"Right, water it is then. Then we will get you all checked in."
Emily started off in the direction of the store and I rushed to follow.
The doors whooshed open, and let out a blast of cold air. Automatic doors! Air conditioning! Luxury I hadn't experienced in years, as things broke down. And the store itself, shelves and shelves, wall to wall, of products, also mostly American in nature, with a fair sprinkling of stuff that had to be from other countries; it was packaged differently, in languages that were most decidedly not English.
But almost all manufacturing for any of this had ceased, years ago.
Emily led me four aisles over and down, where the coolers were. Actual working coolers, filed with meat and dairy that I was certain had come from actual livestock and tested as such.
From the end of the cooler, Emily pulled a bottle of water. A name brand plastic bottle of water, aquafina. Purified water, it said, right on the bottle - no need for boiling or testing. It was also ice cold.
Emily caught me looking. "Only the best for our candidates."
She didn't grab one herself, and I didn't see a pass.
The water was delicious, and instantly I felt guilty.
"So, do you need anything else?" Emily asked, smile a bit warmer as she watched me almost choke.
"No, I'm fine, thanks. If food and water are provided for, and clothes are provided for, well I have a toothbrush and paste, and um, all that other stuff."
She didn't need to know about the sorry 1 ply I had. It was a luxury, but seeing this place, they probably had ultra super plush or something. Much too embarrassing to talk about, especially in front of, well, Emily, but at least I wasn't using leaves.
Emily nodded. "Alright. For the record though, those are probably being burned or tossed. Too much of a risk of contaminants. If so, don't worry, to get more all you'll need to do is ask.Now, let me ask you a question. I know you said you aren't hungry, but if you were, what food says home to you the most? What's your favorite?"
That was a no-brainer. "Kit-kats."
I had fond memories of kit-kats, from the first one my mother got me to the last one I ate. All memories of happier times.
"Hm, thats a tough one, but maybe..."
And before I could ask what she meant since I hadn't requested anything, Emily was off like a shot. I caught up with her at the first aisle, where she was rooting around in a sizable... candy bin?
No way, really?
"Ah ha! Found it, I knew we had one left!" Emily straightened, almost yelling in her triumph.
What she had in her hand... was a bag of miniature kit-kats, just like people used to give out halloween. Or so my Dad told me once.
Emily turned them around and handed them to me. "Here you are Daniel; a small taste of home," she held up the dreaded finger. "But, you can't eat any until you get to the new home."
The bag was placed gently into my hands, and I needed the handkerchief again. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it, " Emily told me in an offhand manner, as if she hadn't just pulled a large piece of contraband out of thin air. "Now, let's get you stowed and safe, before the natives get restless."
They didn't consider here safe, with all the tanks and bombs and militaries around?
Once again, Emily read me. Maybe I wasn't as good at hiding things as I thought I was. "Don't worry, we're safe enough. But the powers that be, those heads that are left, deemed we not take chances with any crew. So we house them on the safest place we can."
Emily stepped out, started leading me further in the camp... past the other buildings and to what could only be considered a giant elevator. Fully enclosed, it led up to the ship itself.
"Right on the Ponce De Leon, humanity's very own fountain of youth."
A little needless to say, but the view was breathtaking so I forgave her.
Welcome to the war, Lieutinant," The co-pilot told me with a grin as I stepped off back ramp of the C-130 and into the rather muggy air.
The thirteenth time. That was the thirteenth time that some idiot that thought he was being clever quoted that at me since my trip started. From captains to grunts, they all loved saying it. I wasn't violent by nature, but if one more person said that to me, no matter who it was, I was going to scream - and punch them out cold. I swear it.
The location I'd been dropped off to was a rough one, with a dirt airfield and metal sided prefabricated structures. At least it had actual barracks too, even if not nearly enough for all the troops here. There was an air of the temporary here, but there were chain link fences bristling with runes and circles.
I wondered if the fences went all the way around the base; that seemed like a large expense for a temporary base. Standard procedure was that all bases in enemy territory were temporary and could be moved inside an hour if necessary. There had to be actual silver in at least some of those wards....
It seemed too hot for the hinterlands of Russia, and all I could see in the distance were gentle rolling hills covered in forest, not the snow capped mountains I expected. I guess they could be out of my visual range, but my eyes were actually very good now, when I bothered to really look. Not that they were bad before, but the ability to spot a single flower in a field from miles up was an improvement, however unexpected it had been at the time.
All in all it looked like a rather rude base, carved out in the middle of nowhere. But there was an air of permanence here. The wood I could see in the structures was old, dark and brittle looking. The fence was brand new of course, but all the metal buildings had paint which camouflaged them from the distance and the air; that paint was peeling. There was a generator in front of the air field control tower, under a metal roof; it was large and clearly old.
Heavily armed troops marched or double-times to and fro, on errands or on some Sargeant's shit list.
There, that was the supply depot, probably just one of them, come to think of it, and it was huge; a metal building with dirt and stone packed high around it, with iron spikes around the roof. It was also covered in wards from what I could see and the roof probably was too. There was no way all that could be moved inside an hour.
What base was this? Hm, my phone said I was in UTC +2... that wasn't the time zone in Russia. That was - it had to be France. What was I doing in France? I was supposed to be in Russia.
According to orders, I was supposed to report to the base's commanding officer, but no name had been given. So... my bosses had probably pulled a fast one on me. I hitched my bag up higher on my shoulder, grabbed my case, and set off. Nothing to do but to do it.
Besides, inside of five minutes the C-130 behind me would be turning around and taking off, and I didn't want to be here when that happened.
The command center wasn't really obvious, so once I stepped off the runway it was time to join in that time honored tradition of humanity, since time immemorial.
"Excuse me, private. Which way to command?"
The private looked left and right so quickly I almost missed it. Yes private, I'm talking to you, and I'm an officer, so you'd better answer.
He straightened up, saluted, and waited for me to return it before pointing left. "That way ma'am. The third road, follow it straight up then go into the small building with the flag in front of it."
"Thank you private." I dismissed him and started down the proper road; I had to dodge two jeeps, one of which was driving way too fast for a dirt road filled with other people. At least they didn't seem to care that I was a summoner.
In fact, no one was giving me a second glance; that was a little odd.
Hey, speaking of Summoners, there was one, and it was someone I recognized, if not liked or respected.
His uniform had seen better days; it was covered in both mud and blood, long since dried and ground into the fabric beyond the hope of any of the obviously recent laundering attempts to remove. He was sitting down, hunched over a large bag that had to be his; it too had seen better days. That didn't seem to be the only thing wrong, as his mutterings were clear, even from here:
"All dead... just like that, all dead."
He kept repeating it, trying to make sense of something, a haunted look in his eyes.
"Hello, Justin."
He didn't look up. "All dead... seconds, seconds was all it took."
"He can't really hear you, Ma'am."
I turned to find a chaplain walking up, 2 bottles of water in his hands. He handed one to Justin, who took it absently. "He's shipping out, likely to Paris."
I didn't want to, but I had to ask. "What happened?"
The chaplain made the sign of the cross; I was mildly shocked that it didn't repel me or something, but didn't let it show. "Something that happens all too often. He lost his support team on patrol."
And since he was clearly unstable, he would be removed from the situation and his demon bound while he received counseling, to prevent... accidents. He'd be back though; there were few enough of us to go around as it was.
"Is he a friend of yours?" The chaplain asked.
I shook my head. "We went to basic together, but he was a bit of a jerk."
He still didn't really deserve what was coming to him. I turned to Justin. "Get better, man. See you later."
The road was straight, at least. All along the sides were buildings, probably administration buildings, though that one almost had to be a mess hall. and in the center, a building so small that if you didn't know, you'd pass it by on your hunt for an important building, a jumped up closet really. Only the flag marked it as possibly more.
I opened the door and ran smack into two soldiers in full gear, behind a warded plexiglass blast shield.
"Name and business?"
well that was abrupt. They didn't even salute. "Lieutinant Maeve Numens, reporting to the commander on scene."
A slot in the wall opened. "Identification please."
Really? I pulled out my license and military I.D. - slowly, since thing one over there was actually resting his hand on his sidearm. What he thought his sidearm would do if I actually was the demon they suspected I was, was anyone guess.
Funny really, they both had the look of veterans.
"Alright, checks out. Sorry lieutenant." They both saluted, and a door hidden in the wall popped open. So the real entrance wasn't the door behind them after all....
I returned the salute and retrieved my cards. "Down the stairs and to the right ma'am."
"Thank you, corporal."
The hidden door opened into a very brightly lit concrete hallway leading down, complete with concrete staircase. at the end of that, I could see what looked and sounded like a war room down a hall straight ahead. The left hall was quiet, as was the right. I couldn't see any more guards, but I had no doubt they were watching.
I headed right, and found myself staring at bland looking office doors; the one for a Chaplain Earnest Griswold, which was an amazing name for an army Chaplain, a few with no nameplate, then one for a Colonel O'Connel: I didn't see anyon else in the hall that outranked them, so this had to be the command on site.
Again, no visible guards, though I could spot the tell-tale glint of recessed mirrors from here; cameras could be spoofed with preparation, but oddly enough mirrors were harder. I knocked.
"Enter, Lieutenant."
I did so, and saluted as crisply as I could. The Colonel, a small, whip thin man that still managed to look both muscular and intimidating despite the hint of a paunch and the gray in his buzz cut hair, stood and returned it.
"At ease."
I pulled the small booklet of a file I'd been given on the plane ride over out of my bag, supposedly mine and full of my exploits; I hadn't bothered to check,. It was merely a formality anyway, since he no doubt had a copy e-mailed to him before I even left the America. His was likely more complete than mine, too.
The Colonel took it without so much as a glance, and slapped it down on his desk.
"Do you know why you're here, Lieutinant?"
I settled into parade rest, keeping my bag slung. I had my suspicions, but suspicions weren't concrete knowledge. "No, sir."
"Lieutinant, you're here because some people who outrank me want to try and keep you alive. Somehow, that means you're now my problem and that this is the safest place for you. How that works, command has not seen fit to tell me. You're not in the Urals because that posting was meant to throw off the... hounds that might track you."
So my own files from home might not be as secure as I hoped. A reasonable precaution, I suppose.
"So, welcome to Ardenne outpost number three. How fresh are you?"
Unusual wording. "I slept about four hours on the plane, sir."
"Good. Grab some food from the mess, I'll send your support team to you. Get to know them fast, because you'll be running patrols starting o-five-hundred tomorrow. Dismissed."
I heard him sigh as I left - a sound I could only describe as forlorn.
This place seemed kind of by the book or tight in some ways, and yet lax in others. Or maybe the good Colonel just needed a vacation. I could sympathize.
The good Corporals didn't even pay attention to me on the way out, and no one was waiting for me. The C-130 was gone, and so was Justin. No one even looked at me twice - but that may be becauseI wasn't wearing my robes. No one wore robes on the front, it was too easy to pick out the summoner that way. There were other ways to pick us out, but the other ways required thought and observation.
It was actually kind of nice.
I'd guessed right on the mess hall, even though it looked more like a gymnasium with a dirt floor and tables than anything else. The ceiling was reinforced with large wooden beams, something which I approved of, since flying demons could carry large rocks, and the most important thing, the buffet table, spanned the entirety of one side.
One of the things the world's military did well, was provide food for the troops. Most of the meat was heavily salted or dried, but still good, and most of the vegetables were canned but still good. The fruit however, was fresh and in season. I took some grapes to go with my ham and beef jerky, and snagged some carrots that looked to be fresh from a local victory garden, grabbed a coke, (they had coke!) and sat down.
The place was full even though it wasn't a meal time, which implied to me that people could come in and grab something whenever they were free. It didn't take long before I was interrupted, but it wasn't by my new team.
"Snow. What the hell are you doing here?!?"
I looked up and pulled the jerky from my mouth as Cassius sat down, a little more scarred and much more dirty than the last time we spoke.
"Got reassigned Cassius, I have to admit I didn't expect to see you here."
It was a small world.
Cassius shrugged and began working on his own food. "Yah, I was further East, but my team got sent here to replace another one. But enough of that, how are things back in the states, and what are you doing here at least a month before your scheduled rotation?"
Cassius had an extra bar on his uniform. He caught on to what I was thinking before I could salute. "Don't bother, keep eating. If anyone asks, you went through the song and dance."
"If you say so."
"We don't tend to stand on formality out here," Cassius said around a mouthful of asparagus. He choked down a huge bite and continued. "Besides we both know you'd be outranking me by now if you'd shipped with us."
I didn't know that at all, but maybe things might have been different if I had... no, can't think that way; it was probably a delusion anyway.
"Whatever, sir."
Oh, that annoyed him. I was saved from his wrath, as well as having to apologize, by the arrival of several soldiers, each looking like varying degrees of 'I've traveled a hundred miles of bad road'. The worst looked just slightly better than Cassius, the best just slightly worse than me.
More were filing in... an even dozen around us.
"Sir, Ma'am... support team fourteen reporting as ordered. You are lieutenant Maeve Numens, are you not ma'am?"
Oh, that was a crisp salute from the obviously weary Sargeant, mirrored by his team. Since Cassius showed no signs of caring, I got up to return it. "I am Sargeant, and you are? At ease, pull up a chair, and introduce yourselves. Get some food if you need, I hear the jerky is exquisite."
"Don't mind me Sargeant," Cassius ground out past some mashed potatoes. "Pretend I'm not here. Oh, and her name is Snow, not Maeve. Get it right."
From the looks of things, the good Sargeant had heard that from Cassius before. "There are words for people like you, Lieutinant Cassius."
He grinned at me, showing off his need for a toothbrush; disgusting.
One look proved the blood was in the water already.
"Right, I'm Sargeant Clay, 'the golem' Tomlin, going right to left I present: private Yusef 'Musad' Heiman, corporal Clint 'Black' Miller, private Tyler 'Perry' Mason, private Eliot 'E.T.' Wilbourne, corporal Jace 'Dod' Burrows, private Caleb 'Rigger' Rigos, then our resident eye candy - private Myla 'Lewd' Lewko, private Savanna 'Eve' Van Eden, corporal Gretchen 'Olympic' Schuster, and last and certainly least, Rosa 'Thorn' Fabron; all together, we're support team fourteen."
Fire team fourteen - there was no thirteen, for obvious reasons, so this would be thirteen if not for the superstition. Some of them were close to each other, tightly knit... and others were placing themselves slightly farther away from the proceedings. Replacements, not new; remnants of another team rolled into this one?
It was just as obvious that I was a replacement for whatever summoner they had just lost. Or both of them had lost, if I was right.
"Pleased to meet you all. As you've been told, I'm Lieutinant Snow, your new commanding officer, emphasis on new. I've no idea what to expect out there, so how about you brief me; what's France like, this time of year?"
My new support team all shared a look, the stereotypical 'oh crap she's totally new' look, which had to be largely for my benefit, since they had to already know that from their own briefing about me, whenever that had been.
The good Sargeant, who looked like a bald professional wrestler or body builder, a veritable bronzed god or statue (some people made it too easy to figure out where their nicknames come from) took up my thrown gauntlet.
"Not good. The weather is very nice, but the demons tend to become thick as fleas this time of year. Winters they usually lay off, or most of them vanish at least, but now isn't really a good time to learn the ropes."
Well that was interesting, I didn't know that the attacks or activity was seasonal.
"Yeah, what command was thinking, sending someone like you here now...." Corporal Gretchen 'Olympic' Schuster (if I had the names right) spit out, almost jumping to her feet.
She was a tall woman, and except for having hair, she was an almost perfect counterpart to Sargeant Golem. They could have been twins, except Gretchen had a faint accent which it took me a moment to place. She was German, or German descent, since there wasn't really a German nation anymore.
Time to nip that in the bud. "It's true I'm new, but I'm not some stateside theorist. I worked with the police, and I've actually fought a demon or two and lived. I also have a few tricks up my sleeve that can only add to the chance of survival for me and any team I'm a part of. Where I'm weak is in tactics and overall strategy for the army in the field, and as far as I'm aware of, nothing else."
"Sit down, corporal." Golem said with deceptive softness. His eyes were hard enough that I wouldn't want him looking at me that way. The good corporal sat back down - but she clearly hadn't let anything go just yet.
Cassius decided to weigh in. "Snow is the best of her class. She scored better than me, even. She was widely considered too valuable to lose, back in the states. No idea why she's here now, but there's nothing in her jacket that smells."
I assumed he meant my file; the powers that be had let Cassius see my file? How many people actually had access to my file? The demons (Lucifer) would probably know where I actually was before the day was out - it seemed everyone else did, along with everything else about me.
No wait, don't panic. He's probably seen the sanitized version of my file.
"Well, The short of it is, there are some people looking for me back in the states, and our boss decided I would be safer here."
Implying the terrorists were the ones to be feared would cover the redacted areas of my file nicely, without putting anyone in more danger than they already were. I'd just have to be careful.
There were more than a few looks of disbelief. "I have a few tricks which make me relatively safe when fighting demons. Humans are trickier."
"Must be quite the trick." Myla the lewd one muttered. She was small and well formed, but lacking in any bulk professional soldiers seemed to develop, managing to look soft despite the grungy uniform.
"You'll find out. I can't really show off here without landing in a brig somewhere, but you'll all find out tomorrow."
It was kind of fun to play the wise all knowing senior - I could see why Karen liked to now.
The good Sargeant caught on immediately, settling back with a shrug. I decided to be truthful.
"I will need some help staying alive and learning the ropes though, so any advice would be helpful."
"Well, demons and the fallen aside, the ardennes is barely wild. So it's like camping out, most of the time. Well, except we don't light fires or make smores." E.T. Wilbourne said. He looked like he was all of fifteen years old, all thin and wiry with light brown hair that seemed as if it couldn't touch his face.
That made sense, fire would be smelled from miles away. But wait. "The fallen? They are this far away from Germany?"
The fallen was one name used for the remains of the German people actually left in Germany. former nazis, now they were the crushed slaves of demons; one of many of the rumors surrounding them was that they were in fact nazis who simply hadn't been allowed to die, and were still fighting the bad fight.
I doubted that, but there was no mistaking the fact that they existed.
"Sometimes we get to snag a deer or wild boar, that's always a little fun." Right, the guy named after a country singer, thin and tall with a texan accent to match, liked shooting game. Color me surprised.
"Yeah, but most of us prefer boring," Savanna added with a smile that showed off teeth to rival mine. She was a bit shorter than Gretchen, thin but with a lean build that suggested a runner; her dark black hair was down to her neck, and her skin reminded me of coffee.
I probably needed more coffee. Or more sleep; I could really go either way.
Again, the good Sargeant caught on. "Yeah, it looks like one of your extra special skills isn't handling jet-lag. Come on, I'll show you to where you can sack out. Well, if you're done, that is."
I was, that was part of the problem; with a full stomach, exhaustion was kicking in.
"Sure Sargeant. For the rest of you, I've heard it straight from the base boss himself; we're moving out tomorrow, so get everything in order."
The Sargeant should probably give that order, but it wouldn't do to let them forget I was at least supposed to be in charge. Even if they hated me for it. Having the person best capable of keeping everyone alive making the decisions was for the best; it wasn't as if they had a pocket demon.
They all stood and saluted; taking a cue from Cassius I waved it off. "I'm not big on formality either. Do what you need to do."
They dispersed, and the Sargeant led the way out. The sun hit me pretty hard when I stepped out; I hoped my sunscreen supply would hold up; the last thing I wanted was to burn on top of everything else.
The place I was led to was a small, modest looking wood house on the outskirts of the base, near the fence. It looked perfectly normal and non-descript. Just a house for officers or something, completely mundane.
At least, on the outside.
From the inside it had more in common with my apartment back home - at least in wards and other protections. The place itself was converted into a kind of barracks. A barracks for Summoners, if I had to guess. It could use a good carpenter or twelve, too.
The good Sargeant walked right in like the owned the place, and the wards didn't argue the point. He pointed to a bed that was more a jumped up cot than anything else at the far wall - I could see my trunk sitting by the foot of it.
The entire house was apparently empty; I couldn't sense or hear any sign of life.
"That's your bunk. I'll be awake by o-three-hundred, probably. If you are up, look me up then, and we'll go over planning the op."
"Thanks Sargeant. Have a good day."
I tossed my bag down and bounced on the mattress as the door shut. Hm, the bed was tougher than it looked.
I pulled my boots off, then grabbed the small personal ward I made on the plane ride over. Hanging it up made me feel safer. Not from demons, but from my fellow summoners; I worked with cops, I knew how this hazing thing worked.
Now that I was safe, I could sleep. Eventually. Whenever I could actually fall asleep, after being told I was now responsible for at least a dozen lives for six months.
Three am, the good Sargeant walked in, still looking like a greek statue in camouflage, a bucket of water in hand. Of course when he realized I was awake, and actually seated at the table and doing something, he set it by the door as if that had been his plan all along.
"What are you up to, Ma'am?"
"Just going over these maps." The maps were far more low tech than I thought we should have, after all America was the country who invented satellite mapping and cheap satellite communications, but there was a certain charm to them. Holding an actual heavy grade piece of paper in your hand and pouring over keys, finding where the mountains and valleys lay....
The Sargeant pulled up a chair, quietly, since I had a few housemates now, pleasantly sleeping the night away. "Why?"
"Trying to plan possible routes. I don't know where my new boss will want me to patrol, but I want to have at least some idea of the best way to get there before we leave."
Come to think of it, the Sargeant was here to help me plan. "what kind of load out should we be looking at? Has the standard changed at all in the last six months?"
"Nah, you should be okay with the standard kit, and the squad already has what they need. Standard small arms, ammunition, some explosives, silver weapons absolutely covered in that weird writing you guys do, a week of food, water, the whole nine yards."
Well I had all of that, even the small arm. The weapons wouldn't be worth anything against demons, but there were other dangers running around. The same dangers the squad was supposed to watch my back for.
"So what time are we supposed to meet the boss?" I knew it was after three, but not the exact time.
"Oh, right about now," the Sargeant answered airily. "No rush."
One of the summoners stirred, and he lowered his voice. "We've actually got about ten, but you're presentable, and going early couldn't hurt."
Well, I had taken the time to dress. I wasn't sure about presentable though, there was only so much I could do in the dark.
I grabbed my bag and followed the Sargeant out the door. As soon as I closed it, he turned to me. "So, any weaknesses I should know about? Before we go see the Colonel or meet up; is there anything we will need to cover you on?"
Interesting question. "Why do you ask?"
"Our last summoner had an issue with salt. Couldn't stand it, was allergic. Because of that we couldn't use certain circles, and had to do other things."
Hm, that would almost have to be a contract promoted allergy; I hadn't heard of anyone having a natural allergy to salt; it was in all things, after all. I wonder if their own bodies' salt caused them issues?
I motioned for the man to keep going. "No, nothing like that. I might not be in the best shape ever, but I've no known allergies or other issues. Well, I might burn in the sun if not covered, but that's it."
I was far from the worst in respect of weaknesses, even if I wasn't the best.
"Huh. Good. I think we can work around that."
"I've already got scentless sunscreen. Just not sure how long it'll last," I told him. I didn't want him thinking I wasn't capable of dealing with things. Now to sweeten the pot. "In fact, I have a pretty good advantage on other summoners to make up for it."
"I'd expect nothing less from a Numens. Your family is something of a legend among summoners."
Because of course it was; family names were bogus for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was living up to the hype.
"You shouldn't read too much into my last name, I'm not all that special."
The Sargeant shrugged. "We will see. Special or dead, that's usually the choice."
Well, that was... bleak.
We arrived at the office, and were waved on through without a single issue. The Colonel was outside his office in the hall, a key in one hand, coffee in the other.
"Lieutinant Numens, you're early." He sounded like he wasn't all that happy about it.
"Sorry sir, I had issues sleeping." Oh, that was apparently the wrong thing to say.
The Colonel schooled his features with effort. "Quadrant F, Lieutinant. That's where you're going. Make sure your team is ready to roll by sunrise. Dismissed."
Thanks to the map, I knew where quadrant F was. I saluted. "Yes, sir."
The Sargeant followed suit as the Colonel dismissed me with a wave, almost fumbling his coffee.
He hadn't asked me if I knew where that was, which was kind of an issue. I thought we were going to go over map coordinates and the like. Speaking of, I should make sure the map I'd found was up to date. The war room would probably have the most up to date information, so I headed in. The guards there didn't stop me either.
The map on the wall was a digital one, and according to the timer in the lower right corner, updated in thirteen minutes. According to it, quadrant F was southwest, towards Germany. Straight into the greatest danger, not that it mattered; I was up for it. I hoped.
A quick look at the other screens show current demonic engagements, by location and time and outcome (some not favorable to us) and the time of our last patrol into quadrant F. Hm, the last patrol in some regions of that area were yesterday, and some other regions were almost a week ago. That just wouldn't do.
We had time, I supposed. "Coffee, Sargeant?"
"I should be waking the troops then."
I grinned. "Don't bother just yet; let's share the wealth."
HE grinned back. "You're a cruel woman, Lieutinant."
Yeah I had to nip that in the bud. "Just call me Snow, everyone else does."
"When we leave and there aren't any butt-hurt officers around to bust me for it. We do try not to out our officers and summoners in the field."
Right, both he and Clay had mentioned that yesterday. "I'll probably be pretty hard to cover for, but maybe."
There were some people who had my condition naturally, and some that were demon touched without a pact, but a random demon wouldn't care about any of that; they would target me for looking different.
Not that I really cared; I had my own ways of dealing with that, and in this case, it might well work out for the best if they came at me first. I was more worried about the humans running around out there; those were far more dangerous to me.
We stopped by the mess, and there it was; not one, not two, not even three, but four different kinds of coffee! The sheer decadence of it all! I picked the one that wasn't Folgers or decaf and or Folgers decaf. No I knew how this game was played. Sugar and cream packets were right there, and I used them on the steaming cup of pitch black liquid, then took an experimental sip.
It tasted as if someone had used twice the normally recommended amount of coffee to make it, and was somehow a little on the stale side while being freshly brewed. A major feat requiring great skill.
The Sargeant helped himself to the same pot. "Oh, that face you're making is priceless, Lieutinant. This is the best coffee you'll have this side of the Atlantic."
That just could not possibly be true. "Isn't France known for their coffee shops and bistros?"
The good Sargeant took a long drink of his black coffee, uncaring of it's heat, then looked me dead in the eye. "Yes."
Well, at least now I knew which side of the fence the Sargeant stood at. There truly was no accounting for taste.
At least we both agreed the oatmeal being served was slop. We both ate it anyway; the Sargeant in a greater hurry than I was.
"Well, with your leave Ma'am, I'd like to go wake the troops."
"Certainly Sargeant. Don't forget your bucket."
He grinned, saluted, and left while I finished up. Just as I bussed my dishes, my squad decided to join me, along with several other noisy squads. They all parted around me like a red sea, complaining so loudly I was sure they were waking people up. The bleary-eyed breakfast cooks managed a defeated look at the influx before they were too busy to do anything else; I hoped they would get some bunk time soon, they looked like they needed it.
"Youre a cruel, cruel woman, Lieutinant," Corporal Miller informed me, with an exaggerated hangdog expression.
"Tell me you all weren't chuckling at the idea of me getting soaked at three in the morning, and I'll apologize."
Yep, I thought so. At least he didn't waste breath with denials. "You got us. We'd have paid the sarge for filming it, too."
I turned to see Sarge trying to whistle... badly, his eyes on the ceiling. A phone? I hadn't seen one.
"Whatever. Get breakfast in a hurry, because we're moving out as soon as the sun rises."
Night was the domain of demons. Sure, I could handle it, but running patrols with normals in the dark was a wonderful way to lose those normals. Such suicide or bait patrols were run anyway, but I hadn't been told to run one. Only the inside of the fence was truly safe in this area, and in the dark anything could be waiting.
The sun was coming on quickly though.
"Yes Ma'am." my minions chorused, and broke to do my bidding.
I grabbed another cup of what I could only describe as burnt tar, and walked out, watching as the base started to come alive. Ugh, early morning calisthenics, headed by a drill Sargeant. I really hoped they didn't want me to do all that crap again; the first time was enough.
It felt odd to be out of robes and into fatigues again. I kind of missed being able to hide in them, but they would have been hard to walk in; robes of any kind aren't really built for nature hikes.
Of course, what I'd miss even more was the protection; none of my uniforms had runes of any kind sewn in. The very act was frowned upon, for some reason. It was wierd, you would think they'd want summoners to survive longer.
Well, false dawn - the sun was close enough. It will start to rise as we hit the gate. I went back inside; the Sargeant was watching the door, and he started the squad moving while ignoring how they stuffed their faces or packs last minute on their way out the door.
I tossed my cup and let them pass me, and fell in the center. If I were ahead or behind, any demon observer could decide I was the leader for certain. To his credit, the good Sargeant seemed to have no such worries as he led us all to the parade green.
Then he turned to me. "Lieutinant, if you would."
He didn't really expect me to... shit, he did. An officer was supposed to check the troops under their command before a patrol or sortie, to make sure they were in uniform, in good health, and hadn't forgotten anything. But I hadn't done this sort of thing before; if anything, they should be checking my gear.
I gave them all a quick once over; everything looked like it was in the right place. I wasn't about to check each backpack though. Right, no bleeding wounds, they were all standing straight and looking ahead, past me, and in formation. Works for me.
"Alright, if you've forgotten something, it's on you. Let's go."
There were two guards on either side of the gate, both in armored bunkers. They didn't bother saluting, keeping their gaze outside.
"Seen anything?" I asked the nearest. An ambush right outside wasn't unheard of, after all.
"No Ma'am."
Private Wilbourne broke first, taking the lead. Private Heiman was right behind him. Wilbourne opened the small pad on the fence, tapping in a number, and the gate swung open. Heiman rushed through. staying low, with his assault rifle out and scanning for threats. With the sun cresting behind us, it was certain that anyone watching for us would have a hard time picking us out.
I wasted no time, and I still wasn't the third one out. Private Lenko swung the gate shut behind us, and it locked with a buzz.
And nothing. I blew out a breath. "Alright, away we go."
Just a bit longer, and ironically, I'd be even more safe than I was in the compound. Well, maybe; If he'd been turned...
The good Sargeant was giving me a look, as if he knew what I was thinking. but it didn't matter.
"Grex, veni huc!"
His embrace was tender, almost as if he actually cared. Well, at least it answered the first question; if the big L had managed to turn him, I'd already be dead or on my way back to the states.
The Sargeant - Golem now, I must remember - grinned and held a hand out. "Pay up."
There were sighs, and bills exchanged hands, ending up in his.
Okay, what was this? "What's going on?"
"Most newbies summon their demon at the first opportunity," Corporal... Burrows, yes. informed me. "It's like a security blanket thing. Most of us bet that you wouldn't, since according to scuttlebutt you'd seen some action stateside."
"We all thought you'd know how important it was to save the time you can have one out before going under from the strain," Eve clarified, a look of disdain plastered over the worry on her face.
"Oh, is that all? Well, allow me to put your minds to rest. There isn't any need to worry about me failing at a critical time, or going insane. I can actually have Grex out twenty-four seven, three-sixty-five. That's in my file. Only reason I didn't summon him before is the standing order designed to save the effort you spoke of; but out here, there is no reason not to."
It took them awhile to digest that one. "That's... that's one hell of a secret weapon, if true."
"Indeed," Grex agreed, smirking widely so he could show off all his teeth. "And if desired, little Maeve here can summon more than just myself, and just as easily. You meat-bags stand in the presence of greatness."
"Grex, be nice. they are here to protect me against nazis. Or zombies. Or nazi zombies." Did they have zombies? I guess not in the classical sense, but humans conquered and controlled by demons was a thing. I guess thralls could be considered zombies, if you squinted."
Grex squinted, taking my new squad in, gaze by gaze. There were only a few takers to the obvious staring contest and he pronounced his judgement: "They are unworthy; can we not go back, and exchange them for real warriors?"
Ouch. I held up a hand to cut off any retorts. "No, we get what we get. Now shut up, Grex, we're trying to be stealthy."
I could tell he wanted to say something, likely something witty about how much noise we were making, but I had ordered him. I turned back to my audience. "Any questions?"
"How is your mind not mush?" Golem asked, his eyes narrowed. Yeah he knew what he was asking; I wondered how long he'd been here.
I shrugged. "Part of my contract, I assume. A side effect of what I asked for, but I haven't really asked because it doesn't really matter. I can hold out up to three demons for hours at a time, even while asleep, with no recorded ill effects. And that is one hundred percent confirmed, you don't need to take my word for it."
"Well, now you getting assigned here is even more mysterious," Rigger muttered.
"Not really, but I don't think you're cleared for that, private. Suffice to say, there is a reason I wasn't assigned to a front first, and a reason I have been assigned now." I didn't want to claim our chances of survival were better with me; I wasn't sure if it were true or not yet.
I did think it though.
"The Numens family have always been hot stuff for summoners. I'm sure you all can grasp the implications of having a permanent demon, who is in fact one of their more powerful ones, running around us permanently. As well as the implications of letting her die to something that ain't a demon. So guess what we won't be doing?"
I was touched. Well, a little, at least.
"Grex, you know this drill. Check for dangers, and warn me if you find any, no matter how small."
That way my demon couldn't pull that crap where he ignored a danger that wouldn't kill me but would my men. I really didn't need a miss like that on my conscience. I opened my own senses wide, just to make sure. Grex saluted just to piss everyone off, then vanished like a mirage in a heat haze.
"Right, well we aren't getting anything done here, and I'd rather not have to explain to the Colonel why we're still just outside the gate. So, lets go; Lewd, you're on point."
Lewd was very small, and seemed to be making the least noise. That was good enough for me.
She sighed. "Yeah, sure. Watch me hide with the best of them."
I looked to Golem, who shrugged, then tapped his wrist in the time honored signal and held up three fingers. Right, give her three minutes, then follow.
This was all a little surreal.
Five minutes later, everything was still just as surreal, and I was fighting the urge to summon more demons.
The problem was, it was too pleasant. The forest around us was coming alive, with insects and other small critters and birds beginning to move and in some cases jabber at us with pleasant song or chittering. The trees were nice, mostly old growth, and solid.
By contrast, us intruders were flinching at every twig snap we made. Weapons were out, eyes were strained, and violence was our invited guest.
I put a stop to it when I found my hand cradled around my sidearm. This was beyond ridiculous.
I stopped hunching over; I may have to keep a slower pace to stay behind the troops, but I didn't have to act like an idiot.
My fellow soldiers looked at me, and I got a few shrugs. They kept right on sneaking, though.
Golem got close. "Sometimes, we get ambushed, right out the gate."
I know, he told me this before. "Right, but in this I trust Grex, and it's kinda pointless, isn't it? I mean if they are drawing a bead on me right now, they are, and it's all hit or miss at this point."
"No need to make it easier to catch a bullet. The Germans do still come out this far, sometimes. Besides, we got all day and nowhere to be, and you stand out by standing up."
Right, I was supposed to be blending in. "Fine. But next time I want a better gun. I mean, if I'm supposed to be blending in, why don't I go all the way?"
Golem nodded. "A point, and my answer is weight. Usually summoners want to be lighter on their feet than we are."
I guess there was a limit to how far you could go... how much did that gun weigh, with ammo? Thirty pounds? If you weren't actually going to use it (I'd never be praised for my rifle marksmanship) that was a lot of dead weight.
It was something to think about later. "Well, whatever, we're wasting time, and we need to make ten miles in dense forest today, and back."
It was only just possible, and we weren't making it standing here. It was also possible our scout hadn't waited on us, and if that was true I didn't want them to die for it. So i clammed up and gave the signal to move out.
I watched my feet for careful placement; I wasn't going to hunch over again like an idiot. Well, maybe just a little.
...And then boredom. Lots of walking to the tune of nature sounds, and boredom.
I caught myself checking my phone for the time halfway here. Hm, I wonder if I can switch the service over to a european company; the whole "searching for service" thing was like a splinter under a fingernail.
I made sure the thing was on vibrate (it was, but there was no problem being careful) and slid it back in.
If anything, my squad seemed to get more antsy as time went on, instead of less.
I gave the signal for a halt this time. "Problem?"
Golem wouldn't look directly at me. "I think the natives are getting restless about your demon. He hasn't been around for hours."
Well, that was silly. "Yes he has. He's been looking for threats the entire time, and hasn't been further than a fifty yards from me."
"You can sense him, then."
Wait, that was a valid point. I could sense him, not just see him. When did that happen? It wasn't a part of the contract.
Time to let nothing show, again. "Yes I can."
Golem reached up and scratched his neck, near a scar there. A tell? "Well the thing is, some of us... most of us maybe, would be happier with a demon where we can see it."
I shrugged as obviously as I could. "Sure, thats fine."
I mean Grex was doing good work, but only I knew that, and I could respect that the squad was skeptical. What had they seen though, to demand such distrust? Usually something like that was earned, somehow.
There was a story there, I was sure of it. I decided I needed to know it after all, for all that now was not the time.
"Grex, veni huc."
A spurt of fire and a wisp of smoke, and he was there, right in front of me and clearly invading golem's personal space without a single care.
"You rang, my master?"
"From now on, stick close. If you have any way of searching out threats while at my side - without killing anyone I'd rather you didn't - go ahead and use that."
Judging from the look on his face, I was glad I'd been specific. "Fine, my beloved spoilsport, though my obvious presence makes of you a target."
That was surprising. If he agreed to that, why was he allowing it? He had some wiggle room granted by contract in situations like this.
"Why aren't you turning invisible or something then?"
"A valid suggestion, but one not without it's own risks."
Yeah, the risk that the spell itself could be detected... but it was unlikely. The odds were at least a little against it; maybe as far as forty percent in favor of discovery to a sixty percent chance of it not being looked for, because of the limits most summoners had. Maybe it was eve lower.
"Just do it." I'd have to get him to teach me that spell; it would be useful.
Grex bowed deeply, then faded from view with a wave.
"That kind of defeats the purpose of keeping him where we can see him," Golem said once I could see him again.
Whoops. "Right, well, this is as close as I feel comfy with."
"Shall I wear a bell for you, meatsack?" Grex asked, his spell doing nothing to deaden his voice.
"Gee, would you? Thanks." Golem replied without missing a beat, in the most faked smug voice I'd ever heard.
I decided I'd best stop this before it got out of hand. "Sargeant, move out."
He didn't quite snap to, but it was close. He also didn't say anything else, but it looked like he wanted to; instead the hand signals flew, and we all started moving again.
Which led to more walking. The urge to just spread my own wings and take flight was building, but knowing my luck, I'd miss something because of all the cover. Still, I wasn't ready to dismiss it yet, for all that revealing that little party trick would get me sent back to the states in silver-etched chains.
A gilded cage perhaps, but still a cage; and all because my wings, unlike those of any other summoner, worked. Well, at least I suspected they worked here - I'd never tried them on Earth, only in Hell, or my delusional dreams.
Suddenly, signs of human habitation.
I suppose calling it human habitation is a little grand, it was only a trail; little more than a game trail but with clear boot prints in it. The good news is they looked to be military issue. It also looked to be heading out, our direction, as opposed to at us.
"What do you think?" I asked Golem. He'd gone right past the tracks.
"I think it's good that you saw them, but they are ours, and three days old."
Well, there went my flight of fancy. I guess it was unlikely that demons had stolen the boots and trekked around in an attempt to lure us into a trap, after all.
The clearly marked half-way point was a boulder, sitting in the middle of the forest, painted entirely blue. It was still whole, which surprised me.
"If they break it, we know. If they wash it off, we know, and if they repaint it, we know," Lewd informed me sagely. "That's why it works."
"And if they set up an ambush nearby?"
"Then we know, of course," Golem answered. "Since they already know we're out here, it works. Besides, if they get this close without detection we want them to give themselves away; better here then at the fence."
That made some sense - if you wanted to get hit at all. I wasn't so sure about that; any contact this close would be bad.
It also occurred to me that there could be an army a good hundred yards further on, and we'd never see them as long as we stuck to the painted rock rule.
"Lewd, Perry, I want you to go a bit further; one hundred yards, and try and stay within sight of each other."
Lewd shrugged and started out immediately; Perry hurried to catch up.
"You do know there are patrols further out, right?" Golem asked.
A subtle rebuke. "Yeah, but they aren't my patrols. And before you start in with the over-eager officer bs, those other patrols aren't ours. Can you live with yourself, knowing you missed something and people get killed for it?"
We had the time, we had the technology.
"You have a point."
We hid ourselves a bit better, and I had just settled in to wait when my two sacrificial lambs came back. Lewd stopped before me.
"No recent sign of anything."
"Alright. Dod, you're scout on the way back, Rigger, you're last in line."
"Gee, thanks boss." Rigger muttered, a little too sure that I couldn't hear him from my distance.
I could of course, but I didn't care.
The journey back should see us inside the fence again before night, the very definition of a milk run. The best for all concerned, really. The other patrols, the ones further out, were screwed the moment the sun went down; I couldn't imagine sleeping out under the stars, knowing that between one moment and the next could mean something not seen could claw out your throat.
Not that it couldn't happen now, but it was far more likely to happen at night; the casualty numbers were clear.
A series of pops drew my attention while everyone else flattened. Gun shots, from far away. Belatedly, I dropped myself even as Grex made his presence known.
"The hostility is not directed at us," he whispered in my ear. "Those weapons are miles away, and echo from the terrain itself."
Right, so a trick of the ground around us was letting us hear it. some distance back, or some forward, and we probably wouldn't have heard. But we did, and the weapons sounded like our own.
It was also to the west, and miles away meant it was well away from our patrol route.
My eyes met Golem's, and I knew we were in full agreement. "Rigger, Dod. Find us a route. We're going."
There was the concern that this could be a feint to draw us out of position, but I felt confident in dismissing that; we weren't a large patrol, and I wasn't well known yet. Any of our enemies would go through us, not try to work around us.
We didn't entirely throw away stealth, but with all the noise, we could make some speed. The firing kept on, which gave me some hope; if it was a demon attack, one way or the other, any conflict would be over by now.
Once we got close enough to have the sounds resolve themselves from a buzz saw to more of a staccato clap, we had to slow; of there was an ambush, running into it, even from surprise, would only be a bad thing.
"Grex." I whispered.
"Say no more," He whispered back, perhaps an inch from my ear, his breath tickling it. "I'll be right back."
"Check only," I told him; I wasn't going to assume anything.
"Understood," was all he said, and I knew he was gone, even though I couldn't see him.
I motioned everyone to bunker up, something I should have done before I sent Grex away.
A few more scattered shots, from as close as fifty feet (I still couldn't see the shooter due to the trees) to probably a hundred yards away, and Grex was back, breathing in my ear.
"I found no evidence of demons. I saw only allied troops among the living; one is wounded. I found evidence of an enemy - a "sniper's nest".
When had Grex learned about what a sniper's nest is?
"Is the sniper still there?"
Grex gave me the 'are you stupid?' look. "No, or I'd have said so."
Golem had a better question. "Where was the nest?"
Grex looked to me, ignoring the man. I noded in Golem's direction.
Grex answered, pointing behind him. "There, to the South. The large oak with the gnarled trunk."
Golem started scanning the tree line.
I readied a flare; one of my personal, special flares.
Every summoner had a special kind of flare, just as every patrol had one; it was a nice, low tech way, to make sure you didn't get shot by your own when trying to help them, just in case more high tech forms of communication were out or being jammed. That was an all-too-often occurrence. I'd heard the flares could get picked out of the air before they sparked up, but it was better than nothing.
I fired it off, the lack of recoil surprised me. The flare itself didn't even go over the tree line, it was a small and sickly thing that was barely visible in the daytime, a streak of red sparking silver that reminded me more of a bottle rocket than anything else.
"Santa, Musad, Perry, you're with me. Everyone else, burrow in. Grex, keep an eye out."
I was pretty sure Grex was right about the danger being past, at least the danger from the sniper, but caution never hurt, and telling Grex to do what he was going to do anyway couldn't hurt either.
I probably should wait for an answering flare, but if the other patrol were compromised, then they would have access to the flares anyway. Stupid as it sounded, even in my head, I trusted Grex in this; he had to keep me safe, it was part of our contract.
My gun would only get me in trouble here, so it was best to holster it. Come to think of it, uniform or not, drawing my athame would also likely only end in tears. Heck, I could be shot with my hands empty, since it was unlikely I'd be recognized.
Mainly I worried about Grex; even if I gave him a prior order, at the first sign of danger to me he'd use the excuse of our contract to murder anyone who took a shot at me, sure as the sun rose in the East.
There were two bodies down, one twitching and groaning, one motionless. The groaning one was a large bear of a man, covered in blood, and was spurting more of the red stuff spouting from a shoulder and a leg.
The smaller one was a man, only a little bigger than myself, his hair color impossible to determine through his blood, and his uniform as unmarked as my own. If I had to guess, he was this squad's summoner.
The three soldiers visible, hunched over and with minimal cover from the sniper's nest and absolutely none from my position, pointing weapons at me, was also a good clue.
The three were more or less the same size, and all three were blond, with rough features. What were the odds? Were they brothers or something? Maybe triplets?
"He's gone, and we're going to need to move. Our demon's on watch, but there's no guarantee the sniper won't circle around."
"Password." One of the blonds said, tightening his meaty paws on his rifle. The other two weren't even watching me. They were watching the tree line.
"The moon is made of green cheese." That wasn't actually the password, but he was asking a summoner for a password; that was just begging for the wrong response.
Golem burst up, seemingly from the ground. "Yo-yo."
Weapons were lowered. "Why no flare?"
Well, that one they could blame on me. "We didn't have time, and I didn't want to warn the ambush. Come on, you got a stretcher?"
The one who wasn't moving was still alive; I could see the faintest of breaths stir the wild grasses near his face.
I grabbed a bandage, but was beaten to the punch as Eve and someone I didn't know came out from behind a tree at a run. They both reached the wounded man at the same time, the dark, swarthy man (at least it wasn't another blond) skidding like a baseball player stealing home in order to get there.
That was fine, my bandage could go around the bleeding guy's leg - if Dod wasn't already there.
"Yeah, we've got one. Reynold's, the stretcher."
"You got it, boss."
The stretcher was really just a tough canvas sheet with two collapsible plastic poles. Each squad had one, and Eve had ours. So of course she was already breaking it out.
"Grex."
He wasn't close, or at least he shouldn't be if he knew what was good for him, but that wouldn't stop him from answering.
"Yes, my master?"
"Any sign?"
"Plenty, my dark liege, all pointing to a hasty retreat. Somehow, either the sniper knew we were coming, or they just decided it was time to leave. I feel the latter is more likely, but cannot discount the former."
Judging from the looks I was getting, everyone had heard that exchange. For the best, really. Grex was trying to get me in trouble again, I was sure of it.
"Get them up and start moving, and we'll cover the rear."
Golem moved, but the one I took to be in charge of the other squad didn't until I snapped fingers at him. "Sometime today. Unless you'd rather we watch your wounded?"
He got up. "No, we got it. Reynolds, Cooper, Gear, and Hill. You're on stretcher duty. Everyone else, spread out, I want Sanders on the wings, and everyone else in front of us. We're going to need to move fast."
He had that much right at least; the summoner was alive, but there was a bullet in his head. Maybe I could help that... I'd have to be careful though.
"If you want, I've got magic that can help stabilize him. Or both of them, for that matter."
The other sargeant thought it over. "What kind?"
"Time magic. I can slow time for them, at least for awhile."
Sure, I hadn't actually done it before, and sure, I hadn't done anything like that for hours at a time, but theoretically it could be done.
"Time magic? Slowing them down?"
"So they don't bleed out or die, yes.I have to be touching them to do it, so keep them on either side of me and close." It occurred to me that I was the officer here; why was I asking permission?
"One on either side, I'll take the middle. no ritual or anything required, just focus. Golem, set up the screen."
I leaned over. The hole in the summoner's head was almost neat. At least the front of it was; I wasn't quite sure I wanted to see the exit wound. "How is he?"
"Bad," the swarthy man told me. "He might survive, if we can airlift him. A hike? He'll be dead in an hour. If you're not just talk, prove it now."
I could make that seconds. A touch and I was pushing power into the still form. It took a little more power than I expected - it felt like the body was resisting me, as if it wanted to age at the normal rate regardless. The more I slowed them down, the harder it was, and I needed to slow them almost to a full stop.
Doing a second one almost did me in; without pulling off some jewelry, I wasn't sure that I could do it; not for the full march back.
Grex could probably do it... and he's shaking his head at me. So maybe not, or maybe he just doesnt want to.
Golem yelled a bit, but the squad already knew what the plan was and was already on the move.
And then, contrary to all my instincts, we had to set out at a sedate walk.
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The sun was setting, and the pace had been grueling. Not because of the walk, but because of the energy expenditure. Keeping two people aging one second or so an hour was actually difficult, and I didn't dare take my jewelry off; any of it.
Come to think of it, jewelry was a big no-no in the military for obvious reasons, so why hadn't I been asked to take it off? Had it been discounted as a simple foible or something? I really should have thought about that before now.
The sun was a mere sliver on the horizon. We were at least twenty minutes past due. I'd sent Thorn and Lewd ahead to make sure we weren't shot, but the gate was silent. When we broke from the tree line, there was no one in sight.
Then, all at once, when we were halfway through no man's land, soldiers popped literally into sight with an effect not unlike a desert's heat haze, with medics right behind them. They made no move to go beyond the gate, or even open it until we were mere feet away and our rearguard was beginning to crowd us.
They were definitely close enough to hear the passcode. "Indigo, Orange, Victor."
"Joe, Purple, White." The left soldier replied, the same Sargeant I'd seen at this post yesterday.
Right, they were looking at Grex. "Grex, go home."
He bowed and burst into harmless flames; this time he actually allowed some ash to fall. Weird.
Still he waited precious seconds before finally unlocking the gate. The medics at least, wasted no time, charging out so fast they almost ran the guards over in order to get to my charges.
"What's the story here?"
"Sniper, I'm helping to keep them stable. When I let go, this one," I nodded in the direction of the summoner - "is likely going to flatline."
"How?"
A good question. "Slowing time for them, drastically."
"Alright, then wait before you let it go, let's get these two to the hospital."
The other medic turned to the guard. "Are they clear?"
Put on the spot, the man noded. "Code checked out, and it wasn't the duress code."
"Then let's go. No transfers yet, keep carrying them. Will they suddenly speed up, and get all the shocks and movements they would have experienced on the trip?"
That was... a very good question. "No? They shouldn't at least. They are insulated from most effects actually."
The medics both wasted a moment staring at me. I heard one mutter the words thanks to my improved ears: "Broken as fuck."
"Alright, come on. You four are still on stretcher duty. Not that I don't believe you, Ma'am, but I'd rather not chance things going to hell trying to transfer the patients."
I was gratified when my soldiers looked to me. "You heard the man. Let's go; I'm getting a bit tired."
I was really beyond tired, and a little confused as to how no one could see it. Or maybe they could, and just hadn't said anything.
We started off, silently. The escort came trickling in, and I couldn't tell if it was just concerned fellow soldiers or something more sinister based on our abbreviated gate protocols.
The medics wanted to double time it, but I just couldn't. the risk of losing contact with either of my patients was high. It took them ten steps to slow down.
We made it there in plenty of time anyway.
The doctors were waiting. I was oddly happy to see them all standing around and waiting, since it meant my casualties are likely the only ones.
As soon as they doctors moved away we went in. "Nearest beds? We should probably only transfer once."
My teeth felt like they were cracking, and I had to force the words out. My knees were also more than a little wobbly, and my vision was beginning to gray.
"This way." The doctors were like the medics, always just rushing off at top speed. Thankfully it wasn't infectious, and the soldiers I'd walked with for hours stuck to my pace.
We finally made it to an ER with more than a dozen beds. I sidled up to the first two. "Alright, I'm going to have to let go of one to make sure the other gets settled in right, so I'm choosing the good private here; his injuries seem the least life threatening."
The nurses got ready; as I kept contact with the summoner, they swooped in and grabbed the guy as he came out of it mid-groan. I stumbled, the release of pressure was so great, but I didn't lose contact until the summoner was settled on the bed.
Then I all but dove out of the way, the sweat on my face drying instantly.
Golem caught me. "Sargeant remind me never to do that again."
"Yes Ma'am, but I don't think you'll listen." His smirk was insufferable.
"You might be right about that. You think anyone would mind if I just snagged a bed?"
"I think that Captain Sawyer might, ma'am. He's probably waiting for a debrief."
Well it was a fresh face for me to embarrass myself in front of, so I was game, why wouldn't I be?
"Alright Sargeant, lead the way."
He did, leading me to what I was rapidly beginning to think of as the bureaucracy building. Of course all the brass were in the same place. Wonder why I wasn't? I was technically brass. Why did I get shoved into the campy happy place dorm?
Nevermind all that, focus. My own troops were following; it made sense that we would all debrief together I supposed, but the other squad wasn't here, or even nearby; had they gone on ahead?
The Captain was on the same level as the Colonel, even down the same hall, but his door came first. I'd passed it without taking any special note of it yesterday. Gracefully, my Sargeant let me lead the way through the door.
The Captain was waiting for me. He was a tall, thin man, the first glance suggesting he could be blown over by a stiff breeze. The second glance however, showed the thin, corded muscle running the length of him. He was dark in that very tan way some people get, with just a hint of darker than nordic skin color. He was also as bald as Golem, but his head was smooth in a way that suggested it was deliberate.
He was also wearing a veritable mine's worth of metal on his chest, and was in his forties if he was a day; a career soldier and one worthy of respect. I saluted as crisply as my noodle arms would allow.
"Sir."
He waited for everyone else to file in and follow suit before acknowledging us. "At ease, all of you. Is anyone unclear on why you're here?"
He was staring straight at me. Of course he was. Choosing not to answer seemed the wisest course.
“Right.” The Captain reached over and started a recorder. Then he started another one, this one an actual tap recorder; did they even still make those?
He spoke clearly and precisely, his next words not aimed at any of us. “This is the debrief of the 14th, first army, on the events of the 16th of August.”
The next words were just as clearly addressed to me. “Alright Lieutenant, in your own words, tell me what happened.”
I guess I was on. “We set out for a patrol of quadrant F, a day only patrol. We reached the marker at the end of the route without incident, and I decided to do a sweep about a hundred yards beyond it.”
Captain Sawyer interrupted. “Why?”
“Because we were early, Sir, and we’d seen nothing. No movement other than animal, and no sign of hostiles in the area.”
He sat back, waving a hand my way. “Continue.”
“As I was saying, we’d taken five while I sent scouts forward; we had flankers watching the cardinal directions. We all heard gunfire coming from the West. I had everyone stay put behind cover while I conferred on proper procedure while Grex, my demon, covered us.”
Captain Sawyer interrupted again. “Conferred with who, exactly?”
“The Sergeant mainly, sir.” And why couldn’t I remember his actual name?
Captain Sawyer’s look said he knew. “And your demon? When did you summon it, exactly?”
Crap. “I summoned Grex as soon as we were outside the fence, sir.”
I could feel disapproval radiate from the man; I felt like I was back in high school, staring down Mr. Hind after I’d made fun of his name that one time.
“I can summon my demon with no time limit, sir. My capabilities are listed in exhaustive detail in my file.”
He shrugged the mild rebuke off. “Not all of us have time to read, Lieutenant. You say your capabilities have in this regard have been tested? Never mind, continue.”
“Yes sir. The scouts I’d sent rejoined us, and I sent a new set out to the west of our position, keeping Grex near the squad as we moved in case the attack was by a demon. To this point the only gunfire we had heard seemed to be from our own forces.”
I gave the Captain a pause in case he wanted to interrupt again, and this time he didn’t.
“Anyway, we advanced under cover in standard formation; Once I saw the casualties I realized the situation was a sniper attack. I sent Grex ahead to neutralize the sniper.”
“Why?”
I was getting used to it already, which was a little sad.
“I thought it best to uncover the position of the sniper and deal with the threat as quickly as possible. Since the sniper wasn’t actively shooting, it was difficult to tell more than a basic direction and I wasn’t about to send my squad forward.”
“And if the sniper was a feint, and a demon attacked you while yours was tracking the sniper?”
“I am hardly helpless, sir. I judged the situation merited the risk.”
“Did your demon find the sniper?”
“No, the sniper had left some minutes before it seemed.”
“I see. Continue.”
“I then revealed myself, and when asked gave the appropriate code; the other squad was able to verify.”
“And how did you reveal yourself?”
“Shouting, sir.”
“And was it possible that the squad had been compromised in such a way as to have the code of the day?” A second interrupted question, and a loaded one.
“I did not judge that to be the case.”
“It has happened before lieutenant,” he informed me. His face and voice never so much as wavered. “Demons have some interesting tricks out here. Continue.”
“Our medics saw to the wounded, and I was advised both would be unlikely to survive the trip back; one would almost surely die, and the other was bleeding out.”
“I see. And did you check those wounded for a demonic plant?”
What? Could demons even do that, with our own men watching? “No, however Grex would have known and taken steps if they proved to be; our contract is defensive in nature.”
“I see. Continue.”
“We discussed the problem, and I decided I could solve it.”
“With demonic power,” The Captain interrupted.
“With demonic power, yes. Specifically, my pact given affinity for slowing time on a target.”
I got him there, his eyes widened a fraction. He hadn’t known what I’d done before, or how broken I could be when I got going.
“I see. Continue.”
The man was unflappable. “I then sent scouts ahead, flankers, and picked a rearguard screen, and we set off for this base without further delay.”
“Why didn’t you send your demon after the sniper?”
“I prioritized lives, Sir. I had no way of knowing if that sniper was the only one at work, and while I was… occupied, an enemy demon could have mowed us down easily.”
He nodded this time, a faint one that seemed more involuntary than anything else. “Continue.”
“That’s basically it, Sir. The march back was peaceful, and we encountered no further trouble.”
He paused, giving me a heavy lidded look. “I see. Sergeant, anything to add?”
“Only that the Lieutenant was in fact visible to at least some of squad C when she called out, Sir, and that never once did she show the well known signs of DF.”
What was DF?
Captain Sawyer was not done. “Alright, anyone else? Any observations you’d like to share?”
After the chorus of ‘no, Sirs’ he couldn’t have sounded more exasperated. “Alright, dismissed. Get some chow into you and rest. You’ll be going back out tomorrow. This time it’ll be a long sweep.”
He returned our salutes but waited; it was easy to ambush me since I was the last out the door.
“Lieutenant.”
“Yes sir?”
“You need to be a touch more cautious.”
“Yes Sir.”
I probably did, not that I’d do anything differently.
Golem made a move to catch me as I pulled the door shut. I waved him off, but I really wanted to pull off a bracelet or two. Just one would likely revive me, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
“I’ll be fine. Just a little winded.”
“Lieutenant, you’ve been winded for the last two hours.”
“It’s fine, I’m recovering. Just don’t let me drown in my soup if I fall asleep in the mess, okay?”
“Sure, I think I can do that,” Golem admitted with a grin. “But if you do you’re still wearing it.”
“Fair.” It wasn’t really, but I’d live with it.
I managed to make it to the mess, and maybe my legs were getting less wobbly, or maybe they weren’t. The buffet waited for no woman though, and it was best to get to it first before sitting down – mainly because if I sat down, I would likely have issues standing up.
I had to know. “So tell me Sergent, how did I do?”
Golem shrugged, still eyeing me. “I’ve heard worse. The last guy we had, Captain Sawyer threw him out of his office and made him stand outside while we debriefed. You weren’t up to mil spec, but you weren’t that bad. We could all understand you, at least.”
That was comforting. “Any words of advice?”
“Nah, not really. Use of more military terminology, but that ship might have sailed since you didn’t ship immediately; some of you summoners who start out state-side tend to get a little… odd.”
An image of a twerking imp flashed through my mind. “I hardly think it’s just us in the states, Sergeant. I remember some of those shipped home when I started.”
That was my story, and I’m sticking to it.
“I didn’t mean it like that, I mean you’re all crazy, no exceptions, but most of you get set in your ways, and you can tell the difference between those who’ve done tours first and those who didn’t.”
I just raised an eyebrow at him. I was perfectly sane, even if he didn’t know it.
“There is much I find wrong with that point Sergeant, and yet I’m too tired to argue it. Perhaps tomorrow, when I care more.”
“You’ll see,” Golem told me, unrepentant.
Well that was certainly ominous.
What I wanted to see was a nice steak, but unfortunately the best I could find was a nice pre-processed meat patty of questionable origin. At least the baked potatoes were real; I took two of those. The chocolate pudding was another must, but the milk was a hard pass in favor of just plain water.
I’d feel like a pig – but people who had burned far fewer calories today were eating more right in front of me. Lewd hadn’t even done anything but scout, and she had seconds piled up on her plate!
Maybe she was a growing girl. Then again, none of us had stopped for lunch; the sniper kind of stopped that for us, and after that event I couldn’t really stop. Going all day on the breakfast we had was probably enough by itself, goodness knew my own stomach felt like it was trying to jump up and eat my heart.
At least everyone else seemed to have energy to spare, telling jokes and laughing with everyone in range. My vision widened some, and I realized that was a surprising amount of people; either we weren’t the only late arrivals or we’d managed to be just in time for dinner.
Thankfully it hadn’t been standing room only. I’d likely be on the ground if it was, rank and reputation be damned.
“Hey, so you’re the newbie.”
I looked up from my second potato, (the first had been vanquished in a blitzkrieg) and into the face of a man.
The man was quite possibly the ugliest man I had seen in my life, and that was saying something. He had a large build, muscles on muscles, a wide sloping forehead that went well back, large jug ears, and beady brown eyes. He was also my rank, which meant I wasn't about to try and get up to salute him. I could also see his athame, which was sheathed right in front on his belt.
"Yes, I'm the newbie."
"Hi, I'm pretty boy, or just pretty. I'm one of the seniors on duty here. I just wanted to say, good work earlier, Jimbob is a friend of mine, and you saved his life."
He held out a hand, and we shook. He was very gentle.
"You just see Captain Sawyer?" He grabbed a chair and turned it around, sitting in it. I didn't think anyone did that anymore.
"Yes." Ah, coffee; too bad it was trash. I really missed my coffee house. Or even my Kuerig.
"Yeah everyone hates their first time with him. He gets better."
I didn't think he was that bad. "I didn't think he was that bad. He didn't yell at me or anything. Some faint disapproval, perhaps."
His face smeared itself into a thoughtful look, which somehow made him look worse. "Really? Let me guess, one of those was in not catching the sniper?"
Now I was interested. "How did you know that?"
He grinned. "I asked around."
Of course he did, and there were at least two squads of people who knew. I wonder who it was that talked. "That was one moment, yes. To be fair I could have sent my demon after the sniper, they probably weren't that far away. But if that sniper had a demon of their own, waiting for a chance...."
We waved a hand. "Unlikely; any demon would have likely taken advantage of the chaos before you arrived. But I get it; you're in the field, you have to use your best judgement. No one here is going to fault the choice you made. but tell me, is it true you can keep your demon summoned for hours?"
It would be pointless to deny it, he clearly already knew, and there really wasn't a way to hide that here. "Yes, I can. It's part of my pact."
"Nice, I wasn't aware that was even possible. Quite the game changer."
"Well, I'd hesitate to say I bargained well, but I might have broke even. Somehow."
A little bit of a touchy subject; most summoners didn't like talking about their rituals, myself included. Unless of course you counted the reason why I was here....
Thankfully he picked up on it. "Right, sorry. Just thinking, you have no idea how big that sort of thing is. Most of us have to make decisions on when we have our demons out to do the heavy lifting, which is probably why Jimbob got popped in the first place."
I had a pretty good idea on how big it was, thanks. "How is he, by the way?"
The face morphed into concern, which made it look.. better? It was fascinating. "Well, if he lives, he probably won't be all there. But summoners have a tendency to live through injuries that kill normal people, and Jimbob wasn't all there anyway."
Jimbob probably was going home to a nice padded cell, if he lived. Or maybe his demon wouldn't let him do one or the other; they could be particular like that.
That wasn't my problem; I could only do so much after all, and I couldn't interfere with a contract. I could maybe do something if the demon was in front of me, but I couldn't summon another summoner's demon.
"Hey, don't worry about it. He's alive, so he's ahead of the game." Pretty Boy said; great, I really was that obvious, even to people untrained in reading other people.
"Right. And the other guy, the private?"
"Right, private Long, who went out like an idiot trying to drag Jimbob to safety. He's going to make a full recovery, and be back out with the rest of us. No free ticket home for him."
That was... well, mixed to be honest. "At least he didn't lose the leg. I thought for a minute it might happen."
"Nope!", Pretty boy replied, suddenly chipper. "He's going to be fine. Anyway, I'll let you eat. I just wanted to say, welcome to the team and don't worry about Sawyer."
He got up, turned the chair back, waved and wandered off to take his place in line.
I got back to my potato.
"Well that's good news. Apparently you'll be able to forego the hazing most new bloods get." Golem whispered at me.
I stopped eating, my appetite lost. "That happens here too?"
Golem nodded. "I'm not sure what goes on, but I have been told that it wasn't pretty."
I wasn't going to tempt fate. "And you got that I'm not going to from that?"
Golem nodded again. "Pretty boy usually sets those things up."
Well, that's nice I suppose. "That's good. I don't want to go through that crap again."
Golem raised an eyebrow, and stopped whispering. "Come on, they're cops. How bad could they be?"
Ha. "Ex-military... as in, after they all pulled their tours."
Golem made a show of thinking about it. "You might have a point. Can you share?"
A thought, narrowly avoided. "No, sharing will lead to bad things. Going to head out then, get some sleep while I can."
No one called me on my rubber legs, but everyone was watching, even as they pointedly ignored me while chatting about inane things. I didn't even know the people past our few tables, but apparently they knew me.
At least the people outside the mess didn't stare.
The barracks slash dorm was quiet, and like last night, no one was in it. I supposed I was early, since it was barely past eight. I could hear Karen in my head now: 'get out there and talk to people! live a little! Don't be such a nerd!' When I could barely hold my head up.
Time enough to stop being a nerd tomorrow. I still checked my bed for unpleasant surprised before getting in it. Trust no one, especially on matters of hazing.
“Pack for an extended hike,” the Captain informed us, pointing to his map. “You’ll be going through D, into E, around F, and then back. Takes about a week. Bring your compass; GPS works in F sometimes. Sometimes it doesn’t. You see anything, anything at all, you call it in Lieutenant. That is, if radios work; sometimes they do….”
“And sometimes they don’t,” I finished for him. “Got it, sir.”
“Sir, permission to speak freely.” my Sergeant said, trying to bore into the man opposite.
“Granted, but I already know what you’re going to say. Your summoner isn’t ready for an extended patrol, she’s too new, etcetera. That the gist of it?”
Golem nodded, mouth shut.
“I’m down two summoners in three days, Sergeant Tomluv. Any incursion, any demon we let by, could kill dozens if not hundreds before it’s put down. I’ve no time to coddle anyone, and I’m fresh out of fucks to give about that. You have your orders, carry them out.”
We both saluted, Golem a bit more stiffly than I, and walked out.
“It’s too soon,” Golem muttered, frowning.
He started as I responded, a light shudder wracking his frame. “Maybe, but we do as we must. I’m pretty confident in my abilities Sergeant, and in time you will be too.”
“It’s not lack of confidence in you, Ma’am. It’s knowing what we’re getting into.”
Operations was as busy as always. A green looking pimply faced kid handed me a new, updated map along with the codes I’d need for the week before wandering off on some other errand. He probably had more time in country than I had in the service; that’s usually how that sort of thing worked.
I still double checked to make sure. Then I triple checked. Everything was in order.
Golem agreed with me; he didn’t say anything was off, at least. I started heading back to the surface.
“So, extra rations, extra ammo, extra clothes?”
Golem shook himself out of whatever thought he was in. “Rations, yes. Ammunition, and extra two clips; we travel light at all times, and if we find a demon or even humans anything more than an extra two clips is usually pointless; a fight is won or lost before we run out and we bug out regardless of the outcome.”
That… was depressing. I guess even for a win we would have casualties, and continuing would be foolhardy at best.
But how would we get out? “Evac by chopper?”
Golem shook his head. “There are some points where it’s possible. There are even a few old roads we sort of maintain, so sometimes truck is an option. But most of the time, it means hoofing it.”
That would mean leaving wounded who couldn’t walk behind – or finishing them ourselves.
To literal Hell with that; not on my watch. I may not be able to keep everyone alive through an attack, but I wouldn’t be adding to the body count.
I resolved to carry an extra few clips myself; I could always dump them later if mobility proved more important than a few extra pounds, and I wouldn’t likely be using my guns anyway.
The less said about my aim currently, the better.
“Also, clothes? Really? Never would have figured you for a clothes horse. What we take is what we’re wearing.”
To Hell with that too; I was taking extra underwear at least. Which reminds me – extra toilet paper too perhaps? Something to look into. “Didn’t you know? I’m a supermodel on my off hours.”
Golem gave me an exaggerated once over, and I could feel my face heat up; some things should not be said.
It got worse. “I could see it, but if you’re going to be a supermodel, you better lay off the granola bars. They are all a bit on the skinny side.”
Great, so now I was a fat clothes horse. No, it was just banter, and I didn’t have any body image issues. I was white as a ghost, with maybe a bit too much in some places, but I was in shape. I bet I could run Golem into the ground – all those muscles had to be heavy.
“Go see to the kids, Sergeant. I’ll see to requisitions.”
“Yes Ma’am.”
The quartermaster was a small, harried woman with a pinched face and stress lines who technically outranked me and unofficially didn’t care, or so I’d been told. She had a pretty good name for a gear officer.
“Lieutenant Carr.”
She took a sip of her coffee, her gaze pointedly fixed on her laptop screen. Well, she didn’t demand a salute, so Golem was batting a thousand so far. “A week for a squad, right? The standard kits’ll be ready by the time you’re back from breakfast. Anything special you need, let me know now.
“Five pounds of salt, a pound of powdered silver, a coarse horsehair brush, and two extra clips in nine millimeter. Oh, and an extra bottle of water testing tablets.”
She made some clicks on the keyboard in front of her. “Done. Anything else? Requested MRE’s? I hear the goulash can cause digestion issues.”
Oh, but her tone was spicy today. Not even an extra eye blink at the things I asked for. Well I guess other than the brush, they weren’t truly unusual.
“Anything else?”
I realized I’d been standing there for a moment longer than I probably should have.
“Yes, actually. One extra mag for each of my squad. I can’t speak for any specific request my squad might make yet though.”
Carr shrugged. “Done. If they have them and it takes time to fill, it’s their ass, not mine.”
I could feel the compassion.
“Right, off to breakfast then.”
Carr made shooing motions, still busily clacking away.
The mess tent was just as deserted at this pre-dawn hour as it was yesterday. They had fresh coffee this time, which was a plus, but it was army coffee, which wasn’t.
The waffles were instant, knock off eggos, the eggs had started as powder somehow, I was sure. But the bacon was good, and there was orange juice. I probably should be reviewing the troops like a good officer, but there was plenty of time for that after breakfast.
As expected, my squad fell in around me at the table as I was draining my first coffee. I took the opportunity provided by the chaos to snag another cup – not that the cooks wouldn’t have given me another anyway, but it was the thought that counted.
I was silent as they ate, joked, and laughed around me. They didn’t try to draw me into the easy conversation, but they didn’t make a point of keeping me out of it either; I’d take that as a win. If I were just a little less socially awkward….
They wrapped things up in half the time it took me.
“All of you will carry at least one extra mag. You can ask for more if you want, but you’re getting that much already.”
“Ma’am, you know procedure….”
Yeah no, I wasn’t asleep the day they covered this in boot. “I do, and we’re breaking it. End of discussion. I want you all ready and on the green in ten.”
They could probably do it in five – but I needed the extra minutes myself.
Golem seemed determined to take at least one of those, but he waited until everyone else had left.
“You know why we have the rule, Lieutenant.”
“I do.” I admitted. Having our weapons and ammunition fall into the hands of the demon army’s allies only allowed them to do more damage to us; a sniper with no ammunition for example, was useless to them.
But I had a feeling. “I know it sounds stupid, but I’ve got a feeling we’ll need it.”
The truth is, if we hit contact, odds were we would take casualties and pull back, succeed or fail. If we hit contact though, and didn’t take casualties, we’d still have to pull back due to expended supplies. I wanted the option to continue forward.
Golem eased up though, with a shrug. “Well, if you’ve got a feeling, that’s it then.”
Evidently he’s dealt with summoners who had gut feelings before – enough times not to question it anymore. No doubt a good survival trait.
I walked sedately back to the barracks (which still looked more like a dormitory to me) and grabbed my pack. Then I took a quick look inside it, just to make sure no one else had tampered with it in my absence; one could never be too careful, and I wouldn’t put it past any summoner to do so. It was all there, thankfully, and with no new additives.
Then I snuck in a few more pair of underwear, because an extra pound wasn’t going to break me either, while being disgusting might. I’d find some way of changing when no one was looking.
Lieutenant Carr was waiting for me. “Your stuff’s on the counter, take it and get out.”
Wow. “Thanks.”
A few small bags and an extra mag did weigh more than my underwear; I stuck them on top, and slid the brush into my pocket, where I could get to it immediately should I need to.
The squad was waiting for me at attention when I reached the green. They weren’t alone – there were two other squads there, with their officers nowhere to be seen.
Odd, I hadn’t seen any other summoners up and about. Beds had been empty of course, but it’d been an hour, and nothing. Oh well, wasn’t my problem.
I double checked them all in silence as they stood there, eyes front like statues, the only clue they were alive the breathing they couldn’t quite mask.
Some had snuck in some extra rations, some had snuck in some personal items (When would Lewd even find the time to read her trashy romance novel?) but they all had an extra magazine. Some even had two.
“Alright, fall in.”
I didn’t lead the way out of the gate for the same reasons as yesterday, and just like yesterday, nothing happened. The feeling that the world was buttering me up for something really bad to happen intensified. I didn’t even wait until out of sight of the compound this time.
“Grex, veni Huc!”
His arrival was a balm to my mind, and his hug wasn’t entirely unwelcome, not that he needed to know that.
His smirk told me he already did. “You rang?”
“You know the drill by now. Go scout for dangers to us.”
With a bow, he was gone, so fast he created a nice breeze.
“Lewd, Perry, take point. The rest of you spread out a bit, fifty feet.”
In keeping with the ruse that I was sure wouldn’t fool anyone, I posted myself away from our center, gun out. My best stalking impression was a clumsy job, but maybe an idiot wouldn’t notice. We had plenty of idiots on our side of the war, the other side had to have a few, right?
The only thing that broke the monotony were the quick checks I made of our position and heading; the morning passed quietly with only the sounds of nature to keep us company.
All in all, it was rather peaceful – I could almost fool myself into thinking I was hiking in a park back home. Well, while I was bored, I might as well be bored and informed.
“So Golem, what were those other squads doing this morning?”
“Patrols.” He answered stiffly, eyes darting around.
We were the only murderously intelligent life for miles, he didn’t need to worry.
“Their summoners were late then. I didn’t see any in the mess.” Or even awake, for that matter, though I didn’t know everyone.
“That’s because the summoners in question are insane, and likely forgot,” Dod stated. “with summoners, it’s only a matter of time before they crack. Their Sergeants were probably rounding them up or something.”
“Dod, that’s enough.” Golem admonished; what did he think I’d be offended or something? I knew summoners personally, we were all crazy.
“They can get away with that crap? Not even a reprimand?” That raised all sorts of interesting possibilities.
Golem nodded, his face sour. “Nothing official; we’re too short on summoners for that. Summoners can pull some pretty… crazy… stunts… shit.”
The light dawned, too late. “Music to my ears, even though I’d never ruin the integrity of the armed forces by cutting corners.”
Dod nodded along. “Very good, I almost believed you.”
“Thanks!”
Image was important, after all.
Golem palmed his face, for the added melodrama, just because. He didn’t hold the pose long of course, and thankfully the universe at large did not take that as a sign to enact something karmic on him.
There were trails here too, and again that made things easier, but wasn’t it true that the enemy would expect us along those trails, and either ambush or avoid us? Avoidance was probably unlikely since all demons had egos the size of battleships, but human enemies could cause quite a bit of damage and likely had humility beaten into them by now. I’d have to ask, later. Probably Grex to be sure on the first point, and wouldn’t that be a joy.
Nothing much to do anyway but hike and think, not that I’d trade being bored for excitement; I was no fool.
That summoner, the one who started the entire incursion back home; I wonder if he came this way? Down this very trail perhaps, dodging our soldiers all the way, ordered to strike at our heart. Perhaps it was to show that even under the shadow of the tower, no one was safe – I refused to believe it was solely for me, the man had to have been moving since before I was active, or the timeline wouldn’t fit.
Big S couldn’t see the future, could he? We were so totally screwed if he could. The world was so totally screwed if he could, and we’d just be going through the motions at that point, waiting for the end. No, if he could, then his decisions would make no sense at all; if he had anything like that it must be very spotty at best.
Right or wrong, I firmly believed that if he knew where I was, he’d already be here, foot tapping impatience away, flaying the skin from my new friends while trying to convince me it was the right thing to do, and all for my benefit somehow. Or theirs.
I had a morbid streak. I should probably watch that.
As the sun began the dipping part of it’s daily journey, Grex came walking back along the path we were taking, looking for all the world like a tourist, and dressed in a trench coat and fedora. He strode right up to Golem and stated loudly:
“Something interesting up ahead.”
Was he? He was.
“Grex, unless there is a presence causing me danger right now, you get the heck over here and address me directly. No throwing my squad-mates under the bus.”
He responded to my hiss with his usual aplomb, striding over. “Just getting in the cloak and dagger mood, my wonderful mistress. There is no presence which wishes us ill-will within a mile at least, but there is a very interesting cabin just ahead.
“A cabin? What’s so interesting about a cabin?” Other than it being the first sign of human habitation I’d seen in this forest. Well, as long as you didn’t count the army; most people did not count the army. Even the army didn’t count the army, I’d seen as much on the last census details for the area.
“The cabin he’s talking about,” Golem interrupted. “is more of an experiment with the idea of a forward fire base than a house. You’ll see when we get there.”
A forward fire base? I knew about those from my military history; in America’s brief intervention of Vietnam. Forward fire bases were used to spot trouble, and pound the heck out of it with large guns and air power. They were constantly in danger of getting overrun though; I thought that our current base was the local equivalent.
If the army had tried for something smaller, what happened to it would be no surprise. But what would be the point? You would need a string of such places, all close together, in sort of a modern Maginot line, and even then it wouldn’t work because failing anything else the enemy could just go over you; it wasn’t like flak did anything to demons other than piss them off.
And all that was after you considered the vulnerability to fire; we were in a forest, after all, and troops needed to breathe to be effective.
We reached a small clearing, and reality proved to be worse than my fears. The place was a small box, with a low wall and shuttered windows all around. It was hard to tell with the roof collapsed, but there might have been a skylight with angles on the air too. Each corner was actually a small round tower and the entire thing was made of logs that were bigger than I was.
The very air seemed to warp with the power of the wards still on the place, and those were just the ones still intact; I could tell there was more.
It was the strongest death trap I’d ever seen, even half burned and open to the elements.
Golem met my look with one of his own. “Like most experiments, it was a failure. But there were few casualties on this one, most people got out.”
That raised a question. “You were here?”
Golem shook his head. “Nah, no one here now was; this was all well before our time, a good thirty years ago.”
So not that bad. Military thinking always did take some time to evolve. The place was remarkably well preserved for it’s age, no doubt thanks to the words of power I had yet to see inscribed on it.
I really wanted to see those. “Chances the place is trapped?”
“Well, not high, but not zero.”
I’d take it. “Grex, go scope it out.”
“As you command, my Mistress.” Grex faded from sight as Golem swore.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he told me. “Just my own fault. I should have remembered how the place affects newbies. No offense, lieutenant.”
“None taken.” Yeah something like this would be a huge draw for the average summoner; an opportunity to learn in the field should never be passed up on.
Golem used the hand signal for stop and wait, and the squad took up positions watching each other and went to ground.
No sooner had they done so than Grex was back. “No traps of any kind, My dear Mistress.”
“Right, let’s go then.”
This close, it was easy to see that the door had half burned and rotted, the victim of elements and time. It hadn’t broken, immediately however, a testament to the power of whatever words lay carved on the other side of it. The walls were likewise still standing, in their own saggy way.
The place screamed to my senses, like being close to a live high voltage wire. So why was the roof gone? Surely, that would have been covered as well? Flyers were a common thong after all.
I bent down and picked up a piece of roof; it was a split log wooden tile, so thin I could break it with one hand. Oh, the shame of it all; the roof had come down first because it was the most vulnerable to breakage, the work on the rest of the place undone by a mistake of tragic proportions.
The place throbbed. Even though I could tell the writing on the walls had been defaced, with the silver poured into the carvings chiseled out, there was somehow still plenty of power here. This was the very sort of place we were discouraged from making in the States; the type of place a summoner could hole up in and it would take an army to root him out.
Of course, it had clearly taken an army to make, so there was that.
There were old shell casings on the floor of the place, under every window. Marks of claws riddled every sill.
It looked like, once up, this was the sort of stronghold that couldn’t be ignored – so the enemy hadn’t. Instead they had hit it, again and again, making the place too hot for the defenders to stay. How would you even resupply a base like this, once it was enveloped in a siege?
The words… were they Etruscan? Something even older? There was something about them…
Grex was studying them too, his face as blank as a mask.
I pulled out my field notebook and got started. The same calls for protection and immunity from dark powers that graced every such installation, but the language wasn’t one in common use by us today. Some variant of Babylonian or Etruscan, likely predating Hebrew. I was more a the hobbyist in ancient languages most summoners were than a P.H.D., but even I could tell something was there.
“Do you recognize it Grex?”
My demon shot me a look. “I don’t recognize one hairless monkey language over another. Do you recognize it, my Mistress?”
“Kind of. I haven’t seen anything quite like it, but it looks familiar. There’s just something about it.”
Grex nodded. “Yes, a certain elegance of line to it.”
That was...odd. For Grex to say something nice about anything, it must be as amazing as sliced bread; for him to say a language had elegance of line was the same as anyone else standing up and cheering about it until they fell over from lack of air.
But I had to admit my own fumbling attempts seemed somehow less complete than the crude-seeming carvings I was staring at. At least they got the message or meaning across, and expressed on paper, the relationship to Babylonian was even more clear; they were close sister languages. I certainly never expected to find anything like this out here; this front wasn’t the complete backwater that Russia was, but I wouldn’t exactly call it a mecca of learning.
I really wanted to find the authors, but they hadn’t signed their work and as old as this building was, they had to be dead. I’d look it up once I went stateside again. If I made it to go stateside again.
Golem poked his head in the door. He seemed entirely unaffected by what he saw. “Come on Ma’am. We’re burning daylight.”
Must be a case of repeated exposure.
“Alright Sergeant, on my way.”
Miles to go before we sleep, and all that.
This was just like camping. Pick a spot, start a small fire, get rained on, have your groundcloth fail. Have your tent retain the water, and all your stuff get wet. Shiver in the cold for hours with your teeth chattering hard enough to crack, everyone has to have been there before, right?
Sure, there was no tent, the sleeping bag was paper thin and did nothing, and I was surrounded by armed people and booby traps, but it was essentially the same.
I used to love camping, but this sucked.
“You okay, Lieutenant?” Golem asked me.
“No, I’m frickin’ freezing!”
“Pipe down, you big baby! It’s only about fifty degrees.”
Should I reprimand her? It seemed like Lewd was getting a bit too familiar. Decisions, decisions. “Fifty degrees and raining. It’s cold.”
Lewd gave me a lopsided grin. “Just wait. As it’s drying, if you’re moving – it can chafe.”
“Perfect.” I told her.
But wait, I had a secret weapon for that. My clothes would be dry in seconds if I wanted them to be. Yep, just like camping.
“Lewd has a point. Out here, silence is golden.” Corporal Black informed us all, not quite aiming those admonishing words my way.
“Then you should probably be silent,” I told him. “I’ll try and keep my teeth from clacking.”
The good Corporal wisely stayed silent. But wise-cracking companions was also part of camping, even if I was their superior officer and their mission was to die for me.
If I had to guess, it was the small hours, which was close enough. “Grex, veni huc!”
There was only so much time I could stand being unprotected. Well, that wasn’t quite right; unprotected by anything that was more than a speed bump against a demon. It was only paranoia if they weren’t actually out to get you. I was surprised I’d gotten any sleep last night with Grex gone, but my loyal troops had all but told me they couldn’t sleep with him there, and a watch would be sufficient.
Grex did one of his usual tricks, rising next to me from the ground up, his arms wrapped around me. He stiffened slightly when instead of pulling away, I leaned into him, and I congratulated myself for actually noticing.
“You bellowed, my Mistress?”
That clinched it, he had t be watching me when he was back home. Why else would he make that reference?
“I called softly, yes. I want you to check out around our camp for anything hostile to us, then report back.”
“Just report?” He asked. “I’m not to eliminate it?”
As if. “Not automatically, no. If you find something, come back and tell me what and where it is.”
“Understood.” He stated for the record, then vanished with a puff of short lived fire.
A puff of fire which suspiciously large, didn’t burn my clothes, but felt very warm.
It made me wonder what he wanted. Probably virgin blood or something.
At the summoning, the rest of the loyal troops woke up, stirring in the dim light. I guess they really couldn’t sleep with a demon about, which was kind of interesting; how did something like that work? A sixth sense? Experience? The other senses filling in, like smelling brimstone or something?
I almost felt bad. Then the cold returned, and it was time to time to move no matter who was tired. “Golem, let’s get started.”
“Sure thing,” he told me. Then he addressed the troops. “Breakfast time.”
MRE’s were brought out; we had breakfast ones, but I just grabbed one of mine at random.
Grex puffed back into range, warming me again.
“Back already?”
“Do you know of any reason I should take my time at such a trivial task?” He challenged me.
“No, and I’d rather you didn’t if you don’t have to. To that end, why did it take you so long to do such searches before?”
“Well, you did not specify times by which the searches were to be complete, and I like the sweet air of Earth. Am I not allowed to take my time on such trivial tasks?”
He smiled at me, as if he hadn’t just contradicted himself in the space of two sentences. Well, I guess he hadn’t directly, but it was close enough.
“Alright, so what else have you been sandbagging me on?”
Grex widened his grin. “That is a very long list. I dare say your team of apes won’t get much walking done if you insist on hearing it.”
Right, I was going to need to be more careful in the future. “Fine. Let’s go. Keep an eye our for trouble Grex, and I don’t mean literally.”
Knowing the mood he was in, he’d do it, blood, screams, and all. Just to be a jerk.
I looked up and he already had two fingers around his left eye, all set to pinch it out.
I couldn’t stop the sigh, and I could feel the headache start. “I need more coffee to put up with this.”
“I can help you with that.” Grex told me.
My joy upon hearing those words was only matched by my suspicion. He had just told me about some wiggle room I’d left him, after all.
“How?”
“By going to get some of course. All you need do is tell me to do it. Your wish is my command, after all.”
That almost sounded like a challenge. Which of course meant that was exactly what it was.
“Fine, Grex go get me coffee. No side trips, and don’t do anything you know I won’t approve of.” That should be as ironclad a bind as any list of things I could name.
Grex gave nothing away, his face bland as he disappeared, leaving a whispered “Of course” and an afterimage of his teeth behind, both floating on the wind.
“You didn’t just….”
I turned to find Golem staring at me wide eyed through the cage his large hand made on his face.
“Yes she did. She just ordered her demon to get her coffee. I fucking saw it.” Lewd was staring at me with something uncomfortably like awe.
“I’ve seen it. I’ve officially seen everything.” Black saw fit to inform us, shaking his head.
“I’m more angry she didn’t include us,” E.T. groused, giving me a look. “What are we, chopped liver?”
That last one needed to be addressed – it wouldn’t do to have my people think I didn’t care. “I can’t be totally sure he won’t spike yours with something, if I order him to bring more.”
E.T didn’t buy it. “You just ordered him not to do anything you’d disapprove of. Are you saying you’d approve of him poisoning us?”
Urk. “Alright, you got me. I just didn’t think of it. But if you want an example, under the right circumstances I could easily see myself poisoning you given the chance, and that might be enough wiggle room for Grex.”
Everyone tensed up, hands on weapons. “Relax, relax, I’m not crazy! I meant that, in the event one of you turned traitor, I might take action. Asking Grex not to do anything I wouldn’t approve of doesn’t really cover that, just because I wouldn’t do anything now doesn’t mean circumstances can’t change. Grex could use that; however poisoning my own coffee is something I would never do.”
“Not crazy, huh?” Eve asked, relaxing.
“Well, not crazier? Will you accept that?”
Golem had not relaxed, but he wanted me to think he had. “All summoners are crazy. It’s in the manual or something.
“It might be in the coffee,” Black opined, which was somewhat disturbing. But I was pretty sure I’d disapprove of crazy pills in my coffee too.
Grex poofed back into existence all at once with a pop, and no fire. He grinned when he saw every weapon we had pointed his way, my own included.
“I apologize, there was a line I was forced to wait through.” He held a coffee in a foam cup I recognized. It bore the logo of the coffee shop around the corner from the apartment complex that had recently been my home. My recent home, in Arizona. My recent home in Arizona which was so near summoner central there was no way Grex hadn’t been recognized. In his other hand, he held something out to me… my debit card.
Just, what? “Did you really…?” I took both items. I know my card had been in my wallet, but here it was, filched from my pocket somehow. The coffee smelled heavenly.
“Order your favorite? Of course.”
I had to ask. “Did you see Karen?” Or did Karen see you, more to the point. If so, I could expect a call soon, cell service denial here or no.
“Of course not, we are several hours ahead of her in the day cycle.”
It was true the cafe was open twenty-four seven due to it’s location, but still, that was nuts.
“Did your demon just pop over to America to get you coffee?” Golem asked in a whisper.
“It seems so,” I answered, taking the cup. It certainly tasted like my favorite blend.
“...The fuck? Demons can do that?” Santa exclaimed, rather loudly. Too loudly, perhaps.
“Only the strongest, but we already knew that.” Dod answered him, even though I was sure the question was rhetorical.
“Yes, Grex can do that,” I told them all and then took another sip. “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let on that he just did, or might be in the future.”
I’d never send Grex for ammunition or something else during a fire-fight, but there were ways to use this.
“In the future?” Golem asked, suspicious.
I sipped again. It was still hot, but oh so good. “Sure. I’m thinking pizza party. Tonight.”
There were snickers, but I didn’t see from who. Grex probably did, but he was too busy looking on as blandly as possible.
“….Are you trying to bribe us to keep quiet? With pizza?”
“….Maybe?” I admitted, staring Golem right in the eye.
“Sold. I haven’t had a good pizza in forever.”
“A good pizza might be difficult to find, if I am to consider the opinions of these monkeys, my Mistress.”
That was a valid concern; Having Grex pop all over the place only increased our risk and his chance for discovery.
“Such a child, I swear.” Golem muttered.
“I heard that.”
He looked up and deadpanned. “Whoops. Drink your coffee, Lieutenant.”
I took that answer as a yes.
Rigger had other ideas. “I’ll take beer instead. The beer around here sucks.”
“Not on duty you won’t. I don’t want drunken soldiers watching my back in the middle of demon infested woods.”
“Fair point,” Rigger admitted with a shrug.
Golem clapped, the sound like thunder. “Alright, enough talk, let’s get moving. Pack up and gear up, we leave in five.”
I packed up while Grex held my coffee. I could probably get him to pack for me, but something might get left out if that happened. Something important that I would miss later. Like losing my utility knife wouldn’t hurt me, but it would certainly be annoying. My extra clothes that no one knew about, or would know about, was another thing I’d miss.
We started moving on time, and I reclaimed my coffee. I ignored the lusty eyes cast upon it as I drank deeply. Yes, I could walk and drink at the same time without making a mess of myself! Fear my co-ordination!
I didn’t even feel a pull from Grex anymore upon that tranquil pool of power I possessed. Even with the jewelry. The link was there of course, and it felt as strong as ever. As soothing as ever. But of the drain I was supposed to feel, or even the drain that I actually felt, there was only the barest hint of anything. I couldn’t even properly call it a tug, it was so faint.
I wasn’t sure I liked that.
I needed time to ask Grex what that meant; was my jewelry losing potency again? It would almost have to be, and yet we couldn’t actually stop and deal with it in front of an entire team of paranoid trigger happy army types.
It was time to go. “Dod, you’re point today. Rigger, you’re drag. Perry, you’re left, E.T., you’re right. Twenty feet apart minimum, but don’t lose sight of each other.”
There, that almost sounded professional. Golem even nodded once, sharply.
E.T. grumbled and muttered about being a wing, though he was smart enough to do it nearly silently.
It was a nice sunny day, if a little chilly. Birds were chirping, insects were buzzing, and the surroundings were peaceful – at least until we tromped through them. I turned the flow of time on my uniform up a bit and as expected it dried out fairly quickly. It didn’t even behave differently.
What a horrifying power that was. Could I do that to people? Age them until they died of old age, in seconds?
No, I could not. Even testing such a thing to see if it was possible would lead me down a very dark path. Even thinking of it was too much. Could I do the reverse? Would I dare test that? No, that too was wrong. I couldn’t affect other living creatures, I was sure of it; to even believe otherwise would be madness, and put me on par with a minor god such as should not be held before the real one.
Affecting myself was only natural however.
Grex needed to stop grinning at me from his position, floating invisibly. Every time I clapped eyes on him, he was showing teeth, as if he knew what I was thinking, and that wasn’t one of our powers. I could only imagine the true horror if it was. Wait, could other demons read minds? It wasn’t listed in any of the literature I’d read, but some legends had them just knowing things, and clearly humanity hadn’t done more than just scratch the surface of what some demons could do.
Seventy-ish years was not a long time for research into a new field, if such could be called research. Especially in a war footing.
Speaking of the war, I should get my mind back into it; E.T. was beckoning, and Golem was on his way over. I decided to join them against my better judgement, since wandering in the woods with no conversation or anything to keep yourself busy was boring. Well, when it wasn’t terrifying.
They were both hunched over what looked like a small game trail, whispering. I got closer, and nestled in between two roots, away from most wind and rain, was a small track. The track of a boot. A nearly smooth-soled boot; not one of ours, or any modern boot.
The track was in soft dirt churned up by the tree roots that sheltered it, and was just beginning to crumble around the edges. It was also pointed almost arrow straight toward the base, which raised an interesting question or two.
Like this one. “Grex, are you even paying attention?”
“Of course I am, my Mistress. Do you need more coffee?”
Okay, so maybe I was being a little unfair. But if that’s how he wanted to play it… “I’m fine, thanks. How did someone get past you? This looks like some random loon decided to take a walk. A walk that would take it right to us, and you didn’t detect them.”
Grex came down and looked. “I suspect that track is older than you think it is, if you believe the person who made it went past me. From the looks of it, we were on our first patrol at the time this track was made, if not on that delightful plane over the ocean.”
“But this person,” probably a man judging from the size of the track, but one could never be sure - “would have been a day or so closer to us yesterday.”
“If they hadn’t changed direction,” Golem stated. “And we have no evidence of that.”
“Then let’s find it. There isn’t supposed to be anyone in this forest at all.” Anyone stupid or desperate enough to actually come to demon frequented woods was someone I wanted to talk to.
We grouped up then split up again, searching for more footprints, broken branches, or marks on or in trees. A good long thirty minutes turned up a good fat nothing, so I gave the signal for another regroup.
“Well?”
“We mark it, and call it in if we can,” Golem answered. “We don’t have time to backtrack and no idea which direction to go.”
I wasn’t happy with that. “Alright. Black, radio it in. The rest of you, spread out again, same places as last time. If we can’t find out where our mystery guest is going, let’s find out where they’ve been.”
Finding out where they had been was just as easy as finding out where they were going, it turned out. We did however, find another track like the first at a small creek fed pool; it looked like whoever it was had stopped here for water, maybe as long as five days ago.
Probably sooner than that, since it was a half day from the first track at an easy hiking pace. Rigger found it while filling a canteen, which spoke to how good this guy was.
The question was, how badly did I want to know what this person was doing? How badly did I want to find him?
A gesture later and we were huddled, or mostly huddled. Grex was keeping a casual look out, which meant we were probably pretty safe.
“Alright so how bad do we want this person? You all have more experience here than I do.”
“Technically no one is supposed to be here, and anyone who is here is assumed to be a demon puppet of one kind or another,” Golem explained. “However, there are some people who live in the woods or near it, and do their thing. At least, until the demons eat them. Not many, but there are some.”
That didn’t muddy the waters at all.
“Alright, so…?”
“We track them down. Could be another sniper.” Dod opined idly, chewing on some piece of grass I hoped wasn’t hallucinagenic.
“We don’t bother,” Black disagreed. “It’s almost certainly a loner squatting in a shack somewhere.”
Eve broke the silence. “Most of those don’t come so close to us.”
I think that was the first time I’d heard Eve talk since yesterday morning.
It was clear the consensus was going somewhere. “Right. So we find him, but it’s not really important enough to sideline the patrol?”
Golem held his hand out and waffled it. “It’s your call, technically.”
Right. “Alright, we will continue as planned. But… I’m still going to handle the potential problem. It’s time for you all to meet the twins, I think.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous at all,” Musad muttered. I took a few steps out of the huddle.
“Don’t freak out, alright? Abnex, Sarex, veni huc!”
The twins dropped from the sky like birds of prey, pulling up right before they would hit me. And of course, they started in immediately.
“Are these meatbags...”
“Bothering you, Milady?”
And in stereo: “Shall we kill them?”
“No, they are my soldiers while I’m here. I have a different task for you, and you will complete it.” It was best to be firm with the twins.
They stiffened, picking up on my tone immediately, and saluted. Their salutes were sloppier than mine. At least they were trying, I guess. Or maybe they were mocking; with demons, it was tough to tell.
“I want you to find the owner of the boot that made this track as soon as possible under the following conditions. You are to do nothing else while here. You are to find this person, and bring them directly to me, without causing them any lasting damage. You are to hurt no one else by either any sort of action, direct or indirect. Do you understand those instructions?”
“We do,” they chorused.
“Then go.”
They both flapped at once, plunging upwards straight as arrows, before flying off in the direction of the first track.
I symbolically washed my hands of the whole thing; the deed was already done after all, and walked back to my shell shocked troops. Grex at least was at ease; if not bored.
I probably shouldn’t ask, but I had to. “What?”
“You just summoned two demons with your contract words, then set them loose,” Olympic told me. “No circle, no binding, no blood.”
Oh. Right. “My contract to Grex gives me dominion over them, technically. The words themselves, the marching orders, are binding enough. I’ve used the twins before, and they can’t overstep.”
“That’s… pretty impressive.” Golem muttered, closing his mouth.
“I told you all I could summon and control multiple demons.” I pointed out.
“Yeah we heard you, but… summoners,” Golem returned.
True, summoners did have some rather sketchy views on reality. I couldn’t deny that charge, even for myself.
“Well, I’m pretty sane, at least so far.”
“A paragon of sanity,” Grex stated.
“Yes, thank you Grex,” Help like that in my corner was no help at all. “Anyway, the twins have their mission, and we have ours. Rigger, did we get any reply on the radio?”
“No response yet, Snow. I think it’s being jammed at the source again.”
Well, I wouldn’t know if my choice was right until after, I guess. Fine by me. “Whatever, let’s get to work.”
Another cold and nearly sleepless night in a foxhole, watching my breath frost. I never thought France was this cold, but I guess with it being close to winter, it was expected. Maybe.
Grex brought coffee as soon as the first sliver of the sun rose over the horizon, as I had ordered him too. A full thermos of coffee from home this time, one I could share with the troops.
The twins were nowhere to be found, yet. Worrying was inappropriate for the situation; at least, worrying about them. Worrying about the damage they could cause is still fair game.
I munched my mostly flavorless protein bar down as Grex packed up for me. My loyal troops were already ready of course, and at least some were actually drinking the coffee provided. They had waited until after I'd sampled the thermos, but it was still a step in the right direction.
I finished up as Grex did. "Right, time to go. Lewd, you're on point. Santa, left wing, Musad, right wing. Fifteen foot spacing, arrow."
A perfect formation for sweeps; I didn't want anything getting by us and I hated single file. Anyone lining up was just asking for it, as far as I was concerned.
"Grex, keep an eye out."
I wanted Grex invisible and in the air, but the forest was still too thick. I'd have to settle for him helping out with his eyes and other senses, which I already knew were better than human. That and trust that since he knew I wanted my soldiers alive, he'd at least warn us rather than watch the fireworks.
Another day of walking. At least I was going to stay in shape.
I couldn't believe I was already bored to tears. I should be very happy to be bored to tears, but I couldn't even read!
It was nearly lunch when the I heard flapping. I felt them before I saw them. "The twins are back."
Then they crashed through the trees like little bombs, right on top of us. Branches rained down, and despite my warning, weapons were raised and safeties clicked off. It was luck alone that no one fired.
They had a very shaken human between them, and Abnex had a ratty looking rifle slung on his shoulder.
"We found your human."
"He looked up to no good."
"So we detained him." The twins finished together, pushing the old guy forward.
The man himself was very old, very dirty, and dressed in ragged clothes that had seen better days - right around the industrial revolution. The plain shirt alone was more holes than cloth, and the pants were stiff with what I hoped was dirt.
At least he didn't stink too badly, which was a wonder in itself.
The old man was a little roughed up too, which was to be expected from a long flight and a powerdive like that one. It was a wonder both his arms hadn't been dislocated. He wasn't cowed at all though, stepping right up to me.
"You in charge here?" His English was heavily accented, but it was good.
"For now." I was interested to see where he'd take this.
"So the military is arresting honest hunters now? Honest men?"
Golem face palmed. "Renny, you know damn well you aren't allowed in here, for your own safety. Why are you back again?"
"You know this guy?" I asked my Sargeant.
"That's Renoir, or Renny. He's a crotchety old bastard that's lived here longer than the demons. He's one of those holdouts I mentioned, he lives a few miles away, and hunts in the woods sometimes. Somehow the demons haven't gotten him yet, but he's harmless."
The old man's eyes crinkled and I realized he was smiling. It was hard to tell when his mouth jowls wouldn't move. "I've even been tried as a spy, twice. Set free both times."
"I see. Well I found your track and wanted to make sure you weren't a sniper."
"Can't hit anything farther than fifty feet away any more," the man replied readily. "My eyes ain't what they used to be."
Looking at him, I could believe it.
"You probably won't catch anything then," I told him.
He snorted. "I have my ways. Besides, catching critters isn't the point. The point is to hunt, and no jumped up demons are going to stop me from doing what I want."
Technically I was within my rights to detain this man. But if he had already been given due process twice, and come through, it was probably a waste of time.
"Fine. Just don't shoot us with that thing. Abnex give him his rifle back. Release him."
"No apology?" He asked, eyes bright.
"Don't press your luck," I replied with my best scowl.
He touched his forelock and bowed with a flourish, then walked back the direction we'd come without another word.
It was interesting that he knew enough about us to mark me out as new. Then again it could just be an educated guess, since turnover and casualties both were high in the armies of the world. I didn't think so though; he was too easy with us, too used to interacting with uniforms, and too blase about getting caught by demons.
The wild demons probably didn't consider him worth the effort; too old and stringy.
Golem nodded to himself. "You handled that well, Renny tends to break in most of the newbies. Most don't handle it as well."
"I'm not really happy about letting him go; anyone working that long in this area without death obviously has a thing going on; some advantage somewhere."
Golem nodded again. "We aren't sure what it is, but we've had him tested before. He's not a summoner or demon marked, just an ordinary human. He likely has a variety of well made boltholes across the forest, or the demons just dont think he's worth killing."
I turned to Grex, my resident expert on demon thoughts. "What do you think?"
"I certainly wouldn't bother," Grex answered. "Too old, too frail, and barely a soul left. As long as he did nothing to me, and bowed his head as I walked by. But the weaker among us might kill him out of spite. Still, he is human, without any of the usual protections. A mild curiosity but no more."
I turned to the other resident demons in the house; they glanced at Grex in unison, then nodded.
"You sure? Nothing at all demonic about him? Tell me the truth, now."
A good warning should be all it took for them. Grex couldn't tell a lie when I ordered him not to, so...."
"There is something odd about the situation, certainly, but nothing demonic about the man." Grex stated clearly.
Well that was that then. "Alright Twins, you did your job, you're off the hook. Go home."
The twins vanished in a puff of flame, their identical smirks disappearing last, and flames licking the damp leaves.
Golem shook his head. "I'm beginning to think you have too much power. Your answer to potential problems seems... remarkably straightforward.
"I'm a simple kind of girl," I answered, marveling over the fact that the gender word came easily anymore.
"Yeah, you're the hammer, seeing nails everywhere. It's a bad rut to get into."
It was probably too late for me, but I couldn't deny he had a point. When had I started to trust this power so recklessly? It was pure evil after all, there was no other way to describe it, no way to mitigate it. The source was the same as that trying to kill us all.
No, trusting the power was a bad move, even if it was mine for the next nine years. And reliance on it was definitely going to be an issue once I no longer had it. I'd seen what that did to Mom, after all. At least, I was pretty sure that was part of her problem.
"Maybe so, but while I'm here I don't think that's going to change. So far, my hammer has come in quite handy. Feel free to tell me I'm using it too much, but don't expect me to stop making things easier for us."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Golem told me, even though he clearly just tried to.
"Let's just go before we gather dust and the demons take over the planet."
Grex sighed longingly, and showed teeth when we all turned his way. Just to be a dick, I knew.
It was too bad I couldn't order him to take point while staying safe. I never wanted anything more in this moment.
I'd have to settle. "Grex, shut up unless it's to warn me of danger to myself and mine."
He nodded and mimed zipping his lips, still with that smirk. Well i couldn't really tell him to stop smiling - could I?
Without further ado we started off, with Grex sticking close and everyone else spreading out. Then we walked, and I realized we probably could have stopped for lunch. Too late now, best to just grin and bear it.
Soon I was ready to call a lunch break just to break the monotony. It was crazy how something so outwardly boring could be so tense. It was even more crazy that I found myself missing my days as a cop; sure it was sometimes dull, but it was never like this. Or maybe I just didn't feel it at the time. Maybe my glasses were rose colored; I didn't know.
But this almost felt ridiculous; there were more shoes to drop, I was sure of it.
But no shoes to drop today, it seemed. Night fell with a thump, signalling the end of another day's progress. I checked where we were against my map, both my own senses and compass showing us to be right on schedule.
The next major obstacle tomorrow would be a gulch I wanted to swing around rather than go through; it looked like prime ambush territory.
Grex was standing around staring at me. "Grex, dig my foxhole," I ordered.
I'd done it the last couple nights, he could do it once.
"As you command, my Mistress," Was his response, and just as suddenly there was a hole there. The hole looked more like a grave than a foxhole, but at least Grex had included steps to get out with.
Where he'd gotten the perfectly stone for it was beyond me, but it was the thought that counted, right? At least I had enough room to stretch out in to sleep, right?
"Thank you Grex." It was best not to acknowledge the weirdness; to give credit to it was to encourage more of it.
My loyal troops shot me more than one glance, ranging from jealousy to pity filled. I took note of the ones with pity in them, and where they were from - those were probably the old timers. Not that I would encourage such behavior, I wasn't a crazy summoner like almost every other summoner out there. Never you mind how many other summoners no doubt say the same thing, traitorous mind; I've got this covered.
"So, how close are we?" Golem asked, pointing to the map I was putting away.
"Right on target, best as I can tell. We might be a hundred feet off either way."
"Excellent," was the response. "I'd hate to be lost."
I doubted that he could ever get lost. I doubted that very much; he probably knew better than I did where we were.
The plan for tonight was to circle up, fortify up as best as possible, and ride out the night. So far everyone was on the same page, and you cold almost draw perfect lines from hole to hole. The latrine would be in the center, because no one would be wandering off to get picked off, horror movie style. We'd just deal with the stink.
I broke out some reading material while the camp started taking shape. Knowledge was power, and I didn't know nearly enough yet.
"My Mistress."
Huh? I was totally awake; Ancient Hebrew in no way put me to sleep faster than a fist full of Lunesta.
"Yes?"
"Do you still desire me?"
I choked on my spit, and he grinned his insufferable grin.
"My presence, I mean. My duties here are complete, unless you have more for me to do."
Right, the troops don't like the demon standing over them while they try to sleep. The sun was down and I could see from here the traps were set, and set correctly.
I shook my head and went back to my book; my eyes were pretty good with low amounts of light, so I still had time. "Bring me another thermos of coffee, the way I normally like it and with no unusual additives, and then you can knock off for the night Grex."
My demon sighed. I knew it pissed him off to be relegated to basically a gopher, I could feel it through our bond. It didn't matter either way, for the next nine years I wore the pants in this family. Not that I considered Grex family ever, but that was the expression.
A thermos was soon in my hands, and Grex did his fire poofing thing. I then took the excess and made a small fire in one corner of my nightly home. I couldn't think of a use for it right now, but a flame was always useful. Not to mention cheering.
Perhaps I'd use it for boiling water, or warming rocks for sleeping on. Assuming I could find any of the latter, that is. No. No weakness, as cheering as this was, it had to go out, if only to protect my night-vision. Not to mention the smell could lure things here. I stamped it out.
That did give me an idea, however. A dangerous and very stupid idea... one that would have to be shelved for now.
"Golem, you can set the watch. At least two and two shifts. Anything more than that is fine but extra."
"Understood, Snow."
I tuned Golem out as he went to work; it was hard enough reading this crap without splitting my attention. Seriously, this was like what not to do with a language. It was very odd that between the "shalt not suffer a witch to live" comments was enough magic spells to start Hogwart's, but what did I know?
The name of my Sargeant was the hint for this excursion into yester-year. Maybe I could make actual Golems to save the troops; I had fewer limits on my magic than most. That is, if I could find the actual recipe, and not just the cautionary tale.
It was funny. The whispered conversations going on around me I could ignore; ditto with the assorted groans and light snores. But a single twig snapping in the forest beyond my foxhole? That got my attention before I even realized what it was.
It was good to be in the company of like-minded people. In an instant, the light snores and other assorted sounds stopped, and I could hear all of us straining our ears to the utmost.
Another crack, isolated from all other sounds, quite clearly done deliberately, and just as clearly done right on the outskirts of our ring of traps.
Something was messing with us, and with that act, it was unlikely to be human. Still, it was best to make sure. I popped a flare.
I didn't pop it by hand, of course, it was popped remotely; there were several of them placed around the camp, hidden with the traps on the line. Each was set to pop if the traps were set off or tampered with, but they could also be set off remotely. Number seven was probably the closest, so I keyed that one up.
The flares were mixed with some alchemical odds and ends to make them very irritating to certain things that went bump in the night. This had the side effect of making them too short-lived to be more than an annoyance. But in this case, where something intelligent clearly knew we were here and could likely see us better than we could it, the flares had a real purpose.
This one popped and we all squinted at the lone growl, or rather the source of it.
I knew what this was. I'd seen one in action before; a hellhound. I'd seen one rip apart a fast food place, forever ago. This one was in its natural element, sniffing for us and pawing at the side of its face the flare had burned by going off.
It certainly knew who and were we all were though.One baleful eye zeroed in on me far more quickly than it had any right to.
I was almost insulted. THIS was what interrupt my reading with smug twig cracks? This thing thought it had what it took to give me fear? I mean, all demons were dangerous, sure, but after what I've already been through, this little puppy thought it could walk up to me, growl a little, and I'd crack? Please.
I slowed time's hold upon me, drawing lightly on my true power; the world slowed down. The hellhound was almost frozen in mid-bark, and my troops were even worse, barely beginning to react to the threat.
I had all the time in the world, it seemed, to stride up casually and stab the canine in the hindquarters. I wasn't going near those teeth, that was just stupid. The head was turning to follow me, but it was far too slow; the athame penetrated easily, the runes lighting up in response to the contact with unsanctified flesh, or whatever demons were really made of.
A simple trickle of power channeled into the blade, and the demon was no more. Thankfully it wasn't one of the explodey kinds of demon, instead choosing to vanish like a heat haze with a pitiful whine. Better for my clothes at least; I let go and time resumed its normal flow.
"What the fuck was that?" Golem all but yelled in a hoarse whisper.
I almost stopped, but remembered I made a hell of a target. "What did you mean, what was that? You've never seen a hellhound before?"
"Not the hellhound, you." Golem clarified. "You were in your hole, then you were out, and the hellhound was gone."
"An application of slowing time. Same ability I can use to save lives, I can use to stab demons."
There was muttering. Some of it even sounded complimentary.
"I thought I saw a blur, but...."
"I'm glad I didn't fire."
As if they would hit me if they all shot. I could totally do some asian movie crap with bullets now. "Enough already, go back to sleep and the watch."
Standard protocol was to move after a demon encounter. Basically to run like hell, even if you won; but I really didn't want to take down the traps, move all the crap, and move at all at night. We were still fine, here.
But just to be sure. "Grex, veni huc!"
He held a hand out as I started down the steps he'd made earlier, looking impeccable as usual. "You bellowed, my Mistress?"
"You're slacking. We had a visit from a bad dog."
Grex artfully raised an eyebrow. "Yet, you were in no danger."
Bullcrap. I'd come a long way, but not that long. Or something. "Whatever. You're now on watch, and I'm going to bed. Sorry guys, but you're just going to have to put up with him. Now Grex, no pranks, lethal or otherwise, no mind games, just watch and respond to threats. And that means threats to any of us, not just me."
Grex bowed low. "As you command, my Mistress. Sleep well."
I knew my loyal troops would not be happy, and still be watching, but I wanted them paranoid and alive rather than happy and dead. Or however that would work. I'd sleep better at least.
The dawn broke, early and bright. One blink and the sight became a little more believable.
Yes, that was a breakfast of eggs and bacon settled on a small crate before me. Yes, that was coffee next to it. Yes, that was a morning paper from my hometown sitting there next to the plate. There was even a small vase with a flower stuck in it; some pink thing.
There was even a cloth napkin, and silverware. The only thing missing was the orange juice.
"Grex, what the hell is this?"
Grex faded into sight. "That is breakfast, of course. What ails you, my Mistress?"
"I didn't ask for any breakfast, and you let me sleep late. Why did you get food for me, from where, and why did you let me sleep?"
"I wanted to. Your current diet is... unbefitting. I let you sleep because you needed the rest," Grex pointed wide. "All is in preparation for this nature hike of yours."
"Did you do anything to the food which would cause me not to eat it, if I know what you've done to it?" I asked, because with Grex you always had to ask.
"No, I've anticipated your question and I've been good," Grex confirmed with a smarmy grin that he long since should have trademarked. "Neither the breakfast I've made for you, nor the coffee, or indeed anything else I've made for you thus far today fails to conform to the rules for normal human consumption in your culture."
That was... pretty exact, and had to be true, given that any lie he fed me immediately broke our contract in my favor. "So, no bugs?"
Grex kept his smile up, but I knew the question irritated him. It was the small victories, sometimes.
"No, no maggots, roaches, leeches, or demonic fungi were used in the meal."
It was best to let that pass; I'd have time to ask later, probably.
He was probably trying to put me off my feed, as the saying went. With a shrug I took a bite; the bacon tasted right to me.
My soldiers were staring at me and my plate in turns. Some of them were even drooling.
As always, Golem voiced their thoughts. "Come on, really?"
Well, they didn't know. "He can't lie to me, it's part of the terms of our contract. So if he says the food is to my taste and fit for human consumption, it is. If you guys don't say anything... I'll share. How about tonight being pizza night?"
"Works for me."
"Pizza from where?"
"I'm in!"
Well, that was easy. I answered the question. "Lewd, pizza from this authentic fake Italian place I know, back in my hometown. Basically delivery pizza, not cardboard."
Golem just shook his head. "I don't get paid enough for this shit."
I couldn't fight down the urge. "No need to worry about price, I'll pay for it."
Golem growled at me, sounding just like a big dog warning me off.
"Secondary mission for the day; everyone think of the toppings they want." That should keep them occupied.
Grex hadn't been exaggerating the situation either, aside from me and my sleeping bag, everything was packed up and ready to go. I hurried as much as I dared without descending to the level of gross mannerless heathen, and grabbed the paper.
"Grex, clean this up."
I was tempted to tell him to fill in the foxholes, but I had a feeling I'd need them.
No, wait, they offered a good hiding place for demons, if demons came this way.
"Also, fill in the foxholes once we're out of them and away. When you're done, catch up with us."
Grex bowed, and ground out "As you command, my Mistress."
His teeth squeaked, he was clenching them so hard. Nice. He was more pissed now than when I asked him to dig the hole. Maybe I should be worried; an angry demon looks for opportunities, as the summoner saying goes.
I rolled my sleeping bag up, tied it off, and slung it with my backpack. "Alright, let's move. Lewd, point. Dod, left wing, Eve, right wing, with 20 feet apart."
I got close to Golem as the others started off. "I get why Grex didn't wake me up, but why didn't you?"
"I couldn't get close enough with that thing floatin' over you, and I wasn't about to yell," Golem whispered back, making it a point not to look at the demon we were leaving behind.
That was fair.
"Sorry, I'll have him loom less next time."
"No need to apologize," Golem told me. "You did what you felt you needed to do."
It was pretty clear that he was insincere.
"I didn't do it because I was afraid. At least not for me; the fact is if I'm asleep, Grex can respond to and deal with ninety-nine percent of all threats by himself. I want us all going home, and if I have to rub my power in your faces to do that, I certainly will."
"A noble sentiment," Golem hissed back with some heat. "And that's exactly how the past three summoners we've had assigned us felt just before they went off the rails. They told us so themselves."
That was sobering. "Then I'll buck that trend."
I was different after all, at least in the scale of power I had if nothing else... wasn't I?
"I hope so," Golem hissed again, this time with the fire in his voice gone. "But we've seen it before. Most summoners start out sure they will change things or stop the war. Sure that they will buck the trend. Most... don't, and let's just leave it at that. It's a small jump from commanding your demon to watch over us, to having the same demon murder us in our sleep."
I wanted to say I'd never do such a thing, but Golem had clearly heard all that before.
"I get it. But you're just going to have to trust me, here."
"You aren't making it easy," Golem spit out, glaring at Perry, who had been getting close enough to hear. "Demons sent on pizza runs? Demons summoned all night, and more than one? I've seen summoners, strong summoners, break under half the pressure you've got to be under. The only explanation you've given so far is 'I bargained well'. I call bullshit."
That was one misconception I was happy to clear up. "No. I never meant to say or imply I bargained well. I said my contract was good; the fact is, I gave up... much. The amount I've lost is perhaps equal to what I've gained, if I squint just right, but I don't think so."
I had to be careful about what I said next. Things could go terrible for me here.
"However, the demon I've contracted is a Lord among their kind, among their most powerful... and because of all I've lost, for the next ten years he's mine. My mother used the same demon to halt the demons along this very front, and I can probably do the same. So in that case, I am right about being different."
"Really? The same one? So you're one of the families, then?" Golem asked.
One of the families? Not sure what that meant. "Grex set me up before I was born, somehow. Not sure what went on there exactly, since he can avoid those questions; prior contracts and all."
"Some demons have some families marked," Golem said. "They follow those families, and whenever there is a summoner, that demon is the first to show up."
That... sounded ominous. "I don't think my family is anything like that. Mom told me Grex just asked for first crack at me if I became a summoner myself. She used those exact words, 'if', not 'when'. But there is no doubt that Grex is powerful enough to help, because he's done it before."
"Families don't have strong demons, usually, so maybe you're not. Maybe Grex saw the chance. Did he ask you to follow your kids?"
Yeah I wasn't going to answer that; all sorts of bad ends led down that road. "I don't think I'm going to have kids," I started out, before remembering my Mom had said the same thing, way back when. "But even if I do, they are safe. Grex didn't put any stipulation like that in my contract. He got... other things instead."
Like the name I still couldn't remember, and the fundamental sense of self torn from me with it. I knew something was gone, but not what it was; I just felt the loss. And my soul, can't forget that. But that part was every summoner, so that wasn't really extra. I felt like there was more I was forgetting.
Either way, it wasn't important now.
"Well that's good at least," Golem replied. "Having a demon follow your kids through all the generations of your line doesn't sound like a solid idea to me."
"On that we agree," It was anybody's guess whether having demons out at all was worth it. All we were doing was slowing down the destruction of humanity, not stopping it. "Whatever happens, for better or worse, that buck stops with me."
"Yeah."
Weird, Golem sounded subdued there - almost sad. Wonder what the big guy was thinking now?
I wasn't going to ask. Any more of this conversation and questions would be asked. questions I did not want to answer or lie about.
Grex came to bail me out. He was walking along, seeming to be unhurried as he loped along slowly and somehow catching up to us as if moving twice as fast. It was a neat trick - I wonder if it was something I could learn? Despite the digging I had him do, he was impeccable. "I have finished with my humble task, my Mistress."
"Great; fall in and keep watch." It was a good thing Grex didn't need sleep like the rest of us.
"Understood my Mistress."
Golem gave me a sidelong glance. I could keep Grex out forever by this point, and Golem knew it. People were going to have to start believing me about stuff. I guess the best way to have that happen was to prove it.
So, more walking. Birds were chirping, bees were singing, little woodland creatures were roaring (but not really), it was a normal day. A normal boring day. Unlike yesterday however, there was something else. A tickle in the back of the mind, a sort of creeping dread. The feeling that something was going to happen, and soon. A feeling I hadn't had last night, come to think of it.
So of course nothing did; we had an uneventful hike in the sunshine, and uneventful lunch, then another uneventful hike. We didn't even find tracks. Which meant something of course, because animal tracks should have been all over, and yet we couldn't find anything larger than a fox or badger.
It was enough to make my not fully existent wings itch.
At five I stopped us. "Alright, let's dig in. Grex, make the call to the pizza place."
I was about to let Grex have thirty minutes free time to himself while waiting on pizzas.
I looked to my less than loyal troops. "Well?"
"You were serious?" Dod asked.
Idiot. "Your topping choice?"
"Pepperoni and mushrooms."
Odd combo. I took the rest of the tally, and we almost ended up with a pie for each of us. Pepperoni and sausage was the most popular, followed by cheese. Who ate just cheese pizza? That was weird; beyond weird, really. I used my still not confiscated phone to set a timer, then made the call. I knew the number by heart; so many late nights with Karen crashing at my place after work.
To give Grex a break and keep in shape, I dug my own hole, this time. It was more shallow than the home I had last night, but less grave-like. It also didn't need stairs.
No sooner had I finished than the phone alarm went off. Or maybe I used the excuse of my alarm to stop, not that I'd ever admit that out loud or in a court of law. I dug out my still not confiscated debit card, and handed it over.
"Okay Grex, time to go. Get the pizzas, pay for them, come back, and don't do anything I wouldn't do. Most importantly, behave."
Grex frowned, but I could tell it was mostly for effect - there weren't enough teeth showing. "I live to serve." he admitted before vanishing in a puff of fire that was... a little weak.
Lewd summed it up best: "He's not even trying anymore. I think you broke him, somehow."
"Or he's lying in wait for me to screw up."That was always a concern when dealing with demons.
I'd almost wanted to give him a time limit, but then he would have crashed any line. Things would not end well, there.
I checked my phone... three minutes. Wait, why had my phone worked on a call to Arizona? Weren't they supposed to be region locked? How did my phone work? More importantly, could I ask or not? If I asked and some shenanigans were being pulled, people would know I had no idea and crap would hit the fan. Time to rely on Grex again, once night fell. If I was really lucky, I might be able to get a second opinion on that which I didn't use summoning circles for.
Grex poofed himself back into existence, using even less flames than before; just a lot of smoke. Three pizzas in each hand, held straight. Each in its own foil bag, and with small cards taped to them.
"Names? Foil bags? Where did you even get foil pizza bags?"
"To be fair," Grex returned. "You didn't say I couldn't do nice things, or be considerate."
Well, no, of course I didn't. Why would I? "So you... decided to be nice in order to troll me?"
There the teeth were, in hair-raising display. Every single one. "Yes."
Well he couldn't lie to me. It was best to reward behavior like that, and throw the thoughts of puppies and dogs from my mind. Maybe I should get a dog if I survive.... "Well it worked. Good on you."
The pizzas were gently set on the ground, and Grex stepped away. Then looked at my loyal troops, and stepped back again. Those same loyal troops waited a moment then descended upon the feast like a pack of hungry wolves.
I waited a moment longer, then got my small mess kit out. Sure no one else was bothering to, but I wasn't going to eat like a savage.
An oversight; Grex might have forgotten something. "Napkins?"
My demon rolled his eyes at me, and removed a wad of papery goodness from his jacket pocket. I gave his offering the stink-eye; there had to be twenty napkins there. Which, given the conditions, might be just enough.
Between my small plate-skillet, the tin fork and knife, it should be enough. My first victim was the sausage and black olive pizza, which was probably going to be all mine. Not sure why everyone hated olives, but they were not loved.
The pizza was just the right amount of fat and grease; it was heavenly.
Lewd sidled up to me. "So... this is a bribe, right? To stop us from telling on you breaking procedure?"
"Absolutely," I answered. It was best to be honest. "Pizza, and maybe some other choice foods, in exchange for not going to the Colonel."
What was the Colonel going to do, really? Send me to another front?
I suppose he could view me as a threat and loose cannon, and kill me. That was an option.
"Works for me," Lewd agreed easily, chomping down half a slice of her bacon and cheese pizza in one gulp.
Golem chewed on his cheese slice thoughtfully. "I suppose some things can be left out of the official report. After all, the Colonel doesn't really need to know every little detail."
Hearing him say that was a relief. I wrote reports, but as the senior non-com so did he, and his were trusted more because he wasn't tied to a demon for ten years. Which was fair, but if we matched up or came close, the Colonel wouldn't do anything.
Well, not anything lethal at least. I'd really not like trying to prove how useful I was to avoid a firing squad - I wouldn't know where the cutoff was, and it would be all too easy to go too far.
Technically, it was possible to pull some major shenanigans here without even leaving the base. All I'd need to do was ignore certain regulations I was already ignoring.
Enough thinking. Pizza was good, that was the thing to think about.
We finished a bit early. "Alright, Dod, E.T., set the traps. The rest of you, clean the mess up so we don't attract anything we'd rather not see. Grex, you're dismissed; go get some rest and I'll call you if I need you."
Grex bowed low and vanished without a word, feet first and grin last. Everyone else got to work while I checked the map. We had stopped early, but we were still on pace, according to my best reckoning. We wouldn't be able to mess around tomorrow, however. We'd need to power walk to make pace.
Maybe we could use some energy drinks tomorrow, like Gatorade or something. Nah, no reason to spoil us all; coffee and water would be enough.
The pizza boxes were consigned to a grave of sorts, complete with mourners who hadn't been able to eat everything. Good rich dirt heaped over to cover the scents, and moss over that to cover the signs of digging.
Then we settled in to wait yet again.
Night sucked. Even when you know nothing is out there, watching you, waiting to chomp down on you as if you were a big mac, it was hard to kick the fear. It was even worse when you actually knew a bit about what went bump in the night; knew that there were actually inhuman things out there more than willing to do bad things to you just because you were human. You could go weeks, afraid of your own shadow every night.
Then something would actually come out of the darkness, and you'd remember why you feared; why the fear took over until you were unmanned. Because the things out there waiting to kill you or worse, were much stronger than you, and you could only fight them at all if they let you. That your fate was not in your own hands, or even close.
Tonight was one of those nights.
Flares popped off around us, some streaking skyward, some staying land-bound, and all making enough noise to wake the dead. They had been tripped on purpose, of course. Our entire line, hit all at once? Had to be a demon; no demon immediately visible? It wanted us to stew.
How long it wanted that was important; I doubted I had time to brush the sleep out of my eyes. the others, they could be picked off at leisure, but the moment I was spotted, I'd be killed. Probably the blinding flares were the only reasons I haven't died already.
"Grex, veni huc!"
Grex seemed to understand the situation even before he fully materialized, as he put himself together right above me - just in time to take a charge from something small and fast.
He manhandled it easily enough, throwing it off into the dark. "Use your skill, my Mistress."
Right, I should have done that first. With a thought, time slowed down.
This time I could see what slammed into Grex. An imp that looked vaguely like a skinned monkey, and about that size. From a different angle than he'd thrown in; was there more than one?
There was, a second, looking like a wizened old man of about a thousand, and a third, looking kind of dog-like, were even now streaking in at the speed of molasses. At least they weren't targeting my soldiers.
No wait, two more, looking like twin monstrosities, were targeting my soldiers. Lewd and Dod. Why were there so many imps around?
At any rate, they were more helpless than I was, despite being up already and slinging guns. I moved out of the jaws of the pincer aimed for me, throttling time down even more, and to Lewd's side. A swift stab with my athame ended her problem.
Dod was firing by the time I got to his side, and that cost me a second because he forced me to dodge.
The two meant for me had touched down, and were now looking for me. Grex had the one that attacked him in hand; he was throttling it with cold precision. What a slacker.
I shived the last two and let my hold go; time resumed it's normal flow.
There was some sporadic fire on my side as the flares dropped. "Situation is in hand for now, stand down."
The fire stopped, but the wariness didn't. Not that I blamed them for that, I wasn't entirely sure I should be sounding the all clear. Five imps was a major incursion back home, but there might be more running around.
I turned to Grex. "Ask it how many friends it had."
Grex turned an eye to me, still throttling. "Friends?"
Jerk. "Whatever, companions, allies. How many other demons he came with."
Grex turned back to our intelligence source. "You heard her. Tell me how many foolish demons you came with."
The imp could not resist, of course. "Five, traitorous great one."
One more then. "One more! eyes peeled!"
I stabbed the grinning imp casually, sending it back to hell in a cloud of ash. "Go find it Grex."
He was gone in a flash, as I used a minor trick to extend my own senses. I wasn't sure how the troops would react if both I and my demon appeared to vanish at the same time, so instead I'd save speeding up my own flow of time as a last resort.
I'd rather lure one in than let it get away. Any demon who escaped would know exactly how my team did things, and how I responded. They might even know who I was by what I could do. I didn't think that information had trickled down to the lowest rank and file, but I couldn't say for sure.
But nothing attacked. Nothing went after my team, huddled together back to back with eyes out, and nothing attacked me, off to the side.
Grex popped back in, all business, no games. "I've found nothing. The fifth demon must have ran the moment the others attacked."
We both knew the imp couldn't lie to me. "Ran and left no trace you could follow? A talented sort, then."
Probably not an imp. Whatever it was stayed just long enough to order the imps in, and then left like the veritable bat our of hell. It wasn't a flyer or we'd have seen it. A burrower perhaps? Maybe even something strong enough to gate, though demons couldn't gate from hell and back without a contract. So that was out, unless there was a rogue summoner running around.
"It can happen, if one is prepared. You of all people know how the eyes can be fooled." Grex opined.
Yes, invisibility was a thing, but Grex was supposed to be better than that.
"You're sure? Nothing around, no demons, no unpleasant surprises?"
Instead of answering with words, Grex chose to glare at me for a long moment instead.
I decided to press. "Well?"
"No, nothing like that," Grex finally said with as melodramatic a sigh as he could manage. "Where is the trust for your bosom companion in the face of all life's adversity?"
"Lacking." I turned to Golem. "Reset what you guys can. We aren't moving."
"Understood," Golem answered simply, then turned the team. "You heard the boss! Santa, E.T., Rigger, you're up! The rest of you, cover!"
I winced. He was a little loud, but I guess that could be my improved senses talking.
I really needed to figure out a way to incorporate wards somehow into our camps without them being sniffed out. If I could just fix that little problem, I could help summoners the world over. Well, maybe. Not everyone could just do what I did.
I turned back to Grex. "You know how I said you had a night off? Well, now you don't. Keep watch, and mean it. Any casualties on our side you're getting punished for."
Grex knew I meant it; he straightened up and gave a fist over heart salute. "As you command, my Mistress."
Then he flew up, and perched in the nearest tree overlooking us, as if he were a giant crow, the weirdo. Next he'd be crapping on cars or something.
There wasn't going to be any rest for the wicked, since I couldn't sleep either. But those who could, I wouldn't hold it against them. I was curious.
It took my soldiers less than three minutes to reset everything. "Alright, back to sleep unless you were set to watch."
Wonder of wonders, not only did those who were sleeping settle back in, but most of them went right off like little babes, judging from the breathing patterns. That was either some hardcore trust, or hardcore fatalism.
I dug into my coffee, and tapped my time powers a bit. I knew it would make me bored longer, but maybe I could get some research in; my notebook was waiting.
Maybe some sort of automated wards writer? Kind of like a protractor, only for dirt and wood? It would have to be capable of bloodletting on the fly too, because that would be the only way to power something like that... but then you run into a few issues with getting the blood flow to stop. Hm, this was more complicated than it seemed.
Maybe if you infused silver beforehand, and used that in a reservoir....
The whisper that came to my ears was not attenuated. "Look lively, Mistress."
Whoops, boredom really was no excuse not to pay attention in a war zone.
Another imp was inbound; Grex had already moved to intercept.
Well, one imp posed no threat, but the imp had to know that. So, what was in the other direction, or circling behind us? My eyes were still enhanced, I could see in the low light with no problems, but I saw nothing.
Some special powder on the eyes to reveal the unseen, and I took another look. Nothing, again. Why would a lone imp attack?
"Grex, ask him why he's here. This makes no sense. Ask him somewhere a bit farther out," I whispered back. Our sentries had yet to spot anything amiss, and I'd love to keep it that way; they needed their rest, even more than I did.
Grex did as ordered, and returned within the minute, resuming looming in his former location. "It seems we are being tested."
"We in general, or we as in us specifically?"
Grex paused. "A good question, and one I did not ask. However, the impression I got was the United States Military in general."
Wonderful; tests like that meant we had been shipped just in time, to a war zone about to go hot. Why else would you probe like this? "Just perfect."
Someone had to be ordering these imps. If all they had were imps to use, they couldn't be very strong, either. So the immediate problem would be finding the summoner on the ground, and dealing with them. After all, taking them out would stop crap like this, deal a blow, and send a message all at once.
If we could find him; so far he was good at covering his tracks. "Did you ask him who sent him, and where from?"
Grex's mouth didn't even move as he whispered back. "I did, and wonder why you didn't think of it before. However, the imp could not say, even under threat of dismemberment. The master has managed that much, at least; I am unsure on how, as my orders were accepted."
Which meant mine would work too. We were likely in little danger.
I wasn't sure I believed that, but so far this was all easy. Too easy. I really wanted to talk to Golem, but doing so would distract a pair of eyes I wanted searching for threats. Plus saying such a thing out loud was just asking for it. I couldn't even ask how much ammo we were down, for fear that I'd reveal crucial intelligence to a hidden enemy.
Sometimes I really hated being an adult; adulthood sucked.
Wait, there was a way to spy on people with spells, and I could stop that if I tried. Even if I didn't have that creepy eyes on me feeling my instructors said I'd feel, it was at least something to do.
Pity I'd never learned the reverse, with the bowl of water and the Greek elements. I could be an oracle.
I drew the runes into the air with my athame, allowing my power to infuse them. It led to a nice 'fire in the air' effect that was pretty cool, but potentially dangerous - you didn't want one rune sort of flowing into the other. I wouldn't even do this normally, but this was more busy-work than anything.
Just as I thought, there was nothing; no one was watching us from range.
Grex must have spared a glance at my handiwork, because he whispered: "You did it wrong," at me.
"Gee, thanks. Never used it before," At least it didn't explode. "How bad is it?"
"Not bad - it just won't work. I suggest using your paper next time. For the record, nothing is watching us by those means."
Heaven forbid I want to try something new. Heh, they probably would.
"At least it won't explode," Grex whispered, mirroring my thoughts. "It looks very pretty. Almost as if you're doing something."
"Hush demon; you only get to be insufferable with words if you find the ambush."
"There is no ambush to find, yet. Please stop ordering the impossible."
Well, so snark and requests now. When did this happen, exactly? He wasn't actually trying to subvert and destroy me at every moment, with every act and breath. There was... banter.
No, I couldn't trust it; Grex was probably just playing the long con. He wasn't after the family anymore, Golem had a point before. So whatever he wanted was either with me, or me. And demons did not like to wait; he would never wait until I died naturally when he could get my soul early.
The other demons I could summon were even more dangerous; they had no stake in my survival at all. Really, being an adult sucked.
Mind back into the now; there was nothing to be gained worrying about a tomorrow before it comes. There was no attack to sniff out, according to Grex. We were safe for now.
I had to make sure. "So you;re saying there's no demons, or attacks of any kind, out there that you can detect?"
Grex sighed just loud enough for me to hear, and rolled his eyes. "Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying. You and your mortal friends are as safe as can be for the moment."
That was pretty ironclad. "Thanks. Keep up the good work."
Staying awake was the proper thing to do. But I was going to run out of coffee if I kept this up, which was a problem. Getting more wasnt not going to happen while Grex was on duty, so to speak.
When did I become so pampered? I used to be able to go out into a desert with just a knife and survive. I needed to get back to that, somehow. Later. I packed my bedding, just for something to do.
More boredom, as hours pass. I could almost hear the endless loop of the jeopardy thinking music in my head, no matter how much I wanted not to. I was aware of the shift change, as Golem, Dod, and Perry took watch.
When the sun broke past the horizon, even though it wasn't past the tree line, I felt it. It was almost a relief.
"Alright, everyone up. Let's go, time to break this all down and move."
Once again, the team was packed and ready to go with all the traps and traces cleaned up just shy of six minutes.
Golem was less than happy about that, and everyone could tell, despite the fact that he didn't say a word. I appreciated his discipline. The morning felt... wrong. Heavy, full of portent somehow. This wasn't a horror movie; bright sunlight helped sometimes, but it was no proof against the stronger things we faced.
Usually imps hated bright lights though; some even burned in it. But of course I never got that lucky; every demon I faced was one that had no weaknesses, more power, and better reactions than I could pack. At least I could fight back when sent into the meat grinder, unlike my living shields. How much worse did they feel about all this?
I needed to stop wondering about things I couldn't help or change.
"Alright, let's move. Black, you're point, Olympic, Thorn, left and right wings. Musad, you're the trail."
The trail was our backside. Arguably one of the worst positions to take, survival wise. Even worse than point, but someone had to take it, and it was his turn. I'd rather have Grex on it, but he needed to stay close.
"Grex, you're on overwatch."
We moved out, and I checked to make sure we were on route. We were, and on schedule besides, which was something at least. Just a few more days, and we could turn around and work our way back.
Knowing our luck, the person that sent the demons was outside our patrol range, just laughing it up.
That the summoner was still active and had not just walked off was confirmed just before noon when Grex spoke for the first time today, whispering in my ear as if the intervening space did not exist.
"I see something odd ahead, just beyond the range of your left-most scout."
"Odd how?" I didn't stop the column; I didn't want to tip off anyone without concrete data.
"Odd as in a lone demon, standing in the open." came the answer.
I signaled the halt; chances are the demon would notice, but it was better than walking into something that was clearly a trap.
Everyone halted just in time, and I signalled the approach. We needed to consolidate or we'd get picked off. Which might be the trap, but I'd take the chance.
The demon noticed. A lone imp, busy tearing something small apart; it looked like an animal of some kind, but it was hard to tell, because the demon had been at it awhile. It was the very picture of homicidal boredom.
Golem didn't question the situation, he was learning for better or worse. "What's wrong?"
"Imp ahead, just standing out there. I don't like it, it looks too easy."
"We sure this is just one guy? This sucker has too many resources."
It could be a group. But it could be one summoner with years of prep time. But, how likely was that really? Normally, each of these imps would require a contract, and a more standard one written in blood and paid for in advance if they weren't the first or main demon.
It would be for one summoning unless otherwise specified, and the recovery time would be... long. Each time. Possible, but what the heck kinds of long, time wise.
No, I needed to know what was going on. "Take positions."
Then I whispered so that only Grex would hear. "Grex, do our thing, go over there, catch that imp, take him somewhere, and ask him why he's here, who his master is, and what the trap is. If you can, get a picture of what's going on here, and how many are involved."
"Yes, my Mistress," Grex answered, all business.
I used my power again, in order to catch the incoming ambush that may or may not be coming. It offered the bonus of seeing Grex flash forward and grab the imp before the ugly little creature could even squeak; it even dropped its little dead toy.
Golem's words were drawn out, but still understandable; I wasn't dipping as hard into the flow of time as I could: "Where'd it go?"
The team was still getting set up.
I took care to slow down my response. "Grex is handling it. I want answers."
Golem blew a shuddering breath. "Right. I'll just be over here."
Not a minute later (my time, not normal time) Grex returned, without the imp. "The summoner is gone. His name is Mr. Werner, and he is a German slave owned by a demon; I was not able to get the name of the demon who owns him, but I was able to uncover the plan.
It is a series of tests for the American army and their policies, in order to prepare for an invasion. The theory is, the imps are to test us to see how we respond. The lack of so called survivors so far has been noted as a response of sorts all its own. That might set back their plans, but it is far more likely they will simply use more force."
"So the imps are tripwires?"
"Yes." Grex answered impatiently.
"How many more are around? And more importantly, when is the attack coming?"
"The imp didn't know, either question. However, he did know one curious fact."
I shouldn't ask, I shouldn't ask... "What fact?"
Grex smiled. "Mr. Werner wears an old military uniform, and is one hundred and twenty-one years old."
In my defense, let me state this as a matter of public record. I am not evil, or immoral. I am not a plotting spider at the center of a large web, laughing as I lead others to ruin. I was just really, really stupid. And greedy. And lonely. And I'm just going to shut up about that now before I dig myself in further. Let me just restart this. I won't delete what I've written, as it is important. But I'm not a pro at this, and I'm getting ahead of myself. So let me try and tell the tale as it happened, and let the chips fall where they may.
Nagrij
In my defense, let me state this as a matter of public record. I am not evil, or immoral. I am not a plotting spider at the center of a large web, laughing as I lead others to ruin. I was just really, really stupid. And greedy. And lonely. And I'm just going to shut up about that now before I dig myself in further. Let me just restart this. I won't delete what I've written, as it is important. But I'm not a pro at this, and I'm getting ahead of myself. So let me try and tell the tale as it happened, and let the chips fall where they may.
….......
Alright, so I was just finding out what every young adult whose ever come before me has ever known. Work sucks. To be fair, I had done work before. I'd been working since sixteen, the odd burger joint job, pizza delivery, construction work one summer best left forgotten... I was no stranger to the part time job market, and entry level Hell.
But after college, entering the work force for real in your chosen career, wearing a suit complete with tie and jacket in order to fix computers that should probably be put down like old yeller (they still used windows 3.1 compatible machines, for chrissakes!)...Yeah. Twelve hours of that, on my first day, working overtime when some line jockey fried a CPU older than I was by typing the wrong command codes like an untrained monkey, and it needed replacing... work sucked. Half the time spent on that had been trying to find a compatible CPU.
And of course, no overtime for any of that, since it was my first day and I was salary in some vague way that made no sense to anyone sane. My new boss had been quite clear on that. I hadn't even gotten a thank you. One long hot bus ride later, I was standing in front of the convenience store a block from my tiny apartment.
And I was hallucinating.
Not a foot from the automatic door, appearing to set it off in fact, was some sort of creature I'd never dreamed existed. Admittedly my school wasn't the best, but I'd studied and taken some biology in college. It looked like a rabbit, but the ears were all wrong... they were huge and shared as much in common with a feline as lupine. They were catlike. And that puffball tail was all wrong; it was far too big. And it was blue, a sort of charcoal gray with white ventral fur, with light blue eyes which seemed to swirl. And it was standing on it's hind legs, crinkling it's little bunny nose at me and cocking it's head as if it had every right to be upright. Someone must have slipped me something somehow.
At least two people went by, eying the door curiously as they went through, no doubt wondering why it stayed open when I wasn't triggering it. Those on the way out, eyed me. Then the thing spoke, and I knew I'd gone insane.
“Hello.”
It waved a strange paw at me. What could I do? I could ignore it, or feed the delusion. Or drug inspired hallucination. Something. Maybe I had picked it up on the bus ride home? I could have picked up all kinds of things from the homeless looking guy that was next to me on the hour long ride home. Whatever; I'd detox and see what happened. But for now I was hungry. I waved back and went inside. Whatever it was didn't follow.
Let's see... month old hot dogs in one of those conveyer cookers, month old unfrozen burritos I could microwave, small TV dinner like things, day old pizza, and week old sandwiches. Not much of a selection. And there, among the dross like a diamond sparkling from a pile of feces, was a sandwich... a ham on rye. Marked with today's date, and not eaten yet. I double checked; my eyes had recently taken up lying to me. The date was right, and didn't squiggle itself around or go technicolor.
I grabbed it before the guy that just walked up could, a mechanic who shot me a dirty look. I felt bad for him, but this was my find! I probably shouldn't hold it to my chest as if it were the holy grail though. I snagged some chips and a snapple on my way to check out; have to make some attempt to eat healthy or I might end up like my old man. The line moved fast, and I was back out among the waning light and deepening shadows.
The bunny thing was still there, beady eyes for me and no one else. I walked past it. Nothing else seemed tinged toward the insane; cars going by were still cars, the roads were still straight, everything was the color it was supposed to be. That woman had to be a street walker....
And I was perpetually broke. Not to mention worried about diseases. Sigh. I continued past, chewing as I walked, and avoiding eye contact. Forever alone, always alone. I wasn't attractive enough. I wasn't geeky enough to interest the nerd girls, wasn't buff and jock enough for the cheerleader types, and wasn't rich enough to pay, or to attract those looking for a sugar daddy. Those last two would be my best bet later in life. If I could just get through this job, which felt like it was sucking out my soul... in only one day. Only forty more years of that!
My apartment was one of a series of small cottages, built like certain types of motels, which it may have been at one time. I preferred not to think about that; I'd used three bottles of bleach moving in. The entire thing was one room, with 'areas': a kitchenette, a bedroom, living area, laundry room. Only the bathroom had walls around it. I'd just reached my door when I heard a throat clearing behind me.
The rabbit thing had followed me. It was back in the same position I'd seen it, and it now knows where I live. If this thing wasn't a hallucination, if it did in fact belong in my reality somehow... dread drained the heat from me. Something about this was wrong; very wrong. Again, it spoke.
“Hello, Ian Geru.”
And it waved that same paw again.
I guess as my hallucination, I shouldn't be surprised that it knew my name. But it did. No one was around; time to play it cool.
“That's right, I know you?”
It shook it's head much as a human might, something I thought was impossible for an animal put together like a rabbit should be. Perhaps the neck was that of a cat? But it moved it's neck in the human way, not the cat way....
“You do not, Ian. But I do know you. Ian Geru, aged 21.4 years, male, graduate of Millton Community College, grade point average 3.5. A classic underachiever, son of Brenda and Gerald Geru, blood type O negative, and virgin. Might I call you Ian?”
It crinkled it's nose at me again.
Of course as a drug induced figment of my imagination, he knew all about me, but it was still a bit shocking to hear it all said like that.
“Sure, why not? And who are you?”
“My name is Hoshiko. I have come to you today with a unique offer.”
I managed to slot my key in the lock and get my door open. As soon as it was open the little creature bolted inside.
“Thank you for your invitation.”
I entered behind him to find him pawing through my things, my old boxed models specifically. Staring at my old Zentraedi cruiser before throwing it casually aside. I winced when it bounced, but it appears to have survived.
“So, what unique offer are you, um, offering?”
A battlepod followed it's ship home on the floor before it? He? Turned back to me and cleared his throat, puffing himself up and droning as if by rote.
“On behalf of the galactic federation, I am hear to offer you a wish; your heart's desire.”
Well this was an interesting turn for a hallucination to take. I checked the models; they were fine, thankfully. I put them out of this things reach, along with the others, and when I turned around, he was in my anime DVD collection.
“Oh? Why me?”
It turned back to me and said with utmost sincerity:
“You share all of the qualifications we look for in our recipients. This wish is not without cost; you must do something for us in exchange.”
I asked what I felt was the next logical question.
“Like what?”
“I am not currently at liberty to say. I can only divulge that information when you agree to the terms.”
Legalese, the bane of my existence. My mind sucked.
“And what are those terms?”
The creature moved on to my regular movies now.
“That you must not tell anyone of my existence, or of the wish you made, or it's ramifications. That is the only stipulation.”
Hmm. Monkey's paw thing maybe?
“So, can I wish for a million dollars and just pay you back, or will you go rob some poor millionaire?”
I wouldn't wish for a million, I'd wish for a billion. A mere million dollars just wouldn't go far anymore.
“Oh! Oh no, you misunderstand me, Ian Geru. Your wish is specific.”
I waited a loaded moment before finally realizing he wasn't going to tell me unless I asked.
“Well, what is it?”
“Help in your love efforts of course. How would you like to meet the girl of your dreams? The girl you could spend the rest of your life with? Meet her without any awkwardness inspired by differences in social standing, or compatibility? And meet her knowing that she feels the same about you, as you do her?”
What? My mind was sick. Even more twisted than I thought before, because what it was offering... it was a punch in the gut. Or the nads. I was so lonely. I found my voice, struck by the absurdity of responding vocally to a figment of my imagination.
“Y..Yes. That would be good. What are you, some sort of cupid?”
It... he, cocked his head for a moment, considering.
“I suppose I could be considered such. A magical match making service is an apt analogy, though I do not fly or use a bow. Also included in your wish is a better job, and increased popularity. There are other positive effects as well, but they cannot be properly codified.”
You actually could burst out in a cold sweat; strange. This just wasn't right; I was being taunted with everything that I lacked; everything that made my life suck by it's absence. This was rapidly getting into the 'not funny anymore' range.
“And who would I have to kill for all this? I won't murder people for your organization, or federation, or whatever it is.”
Even if I was seeing things, I wouldn't go the way of Gacy or Son of Sam. I didn't doubt my sanity, but if voices in my head told me to kill, I'd check myself into the nearest mental hospital and not leave until the creature did.
Hoshiko muttered something about 'always murder', then responded more clearly.
“You will not need to murder or kill any humans in order to pay for this wish. You will not need to commit any felonies in order to pay for this wish, in fact.”
Well back into the less squicky areas of my psyche, then.
“But you won't tell me what I need to do?”
“I cannot unless you agree to the terms involved in the wish. It is a confidential matter.”
“But not an illegal one?”
The creature Hoshiko shook his head, making his ears flop.
“Incorrect. The repayment may in fact require the commission of misdemeanors.”
So I'd have to break the law, and do what? Vandalism? Petty theft?
I couldn't believe I was even entertaining this. Oh well, it was more entertaining than the book I usually read myself to sleep with. I was too poor for TV or internet at the moment. And after the beating my psyche was taking from this drug delusion, I could definitely use the internet. Or a cold shower. One or the other, really.
“So what kinds of misdemeanors?”
“The use of misdemeanors is optional. We do not require it, only that the will to commit such acts when deemed necessary exist.
“So I don't have to hurt other people?”
Hoshiko's eyes flashed.
“It is not required. You are free to do so if you desire, but such acts might compromise your ability to repay us. Situations such as that should be avoided if at all possible.”
Heh. Odd, the crazy figment should know I was law abiding; almost painfully so. It continued.
“So would this offer be of interest to you?”
The creature seemed strangely intent all of a sudden, turning from my scattered movies with an intent look that, even on something so small and defenseless, gave me pause.
“What are you, anyway? Some kind of demon?”
Just like that, whatever tension there was broke. The thing started wheezing. Was that laughter?
“Of course not. I am a cabbit.”
What?
“What the fuck is a cabbit?”
I could swear the creature winced.
“Please do not use foul language in my presence. A cabbit is a hybrid of cat and rabbit made popular in some forms of media on your plant. It is unusual that you do not know this.”
Well I couldn't argue that. I felt like I should recognize this critter from somewhere, it did tickle my memory... but then, it should, since it was from my subconscious. I'm not sure what it said about me that I didn't directly recognize something from my own head.
“How do I know you're telling the truth?”
The cabbit pondered that.
“I suppose you do not, until I show proof of intent. I do not lie; I am incapable of it. Proof will be supplied when I deliver on your wish, would you not agree?”
Well, would it? Wasn't he, Hoshiko, the cabbit, just offering to play matchmaker? Would that be something obvious? Well given my life and lifestyle, probably. Any woman in my life would be amazing. One not pointing at me and laughing would be a miracle.
Why was I even entertaining this like it was something worthy of thought? I was hallucinating. Either I'd been slipped drugs as part of some bizarre hazing, or my brain had burst a blood vessel or something similar. And at this point, even death by cerebral hemorrhage didn't sound half bad. I was simply too tired to care. My dad had told me at 10 that magic was all bullshit. That dreams died, fantasies withered, and all of it was a lie. He did that to get me to stop playing magic: the gathering, I knew that now. But the basic point stuck with me. Why not give the hallucination a chance to prove that wrong? After all, if it was, I was the only one getting hurt, and if not... oh, if not....
“You know what Hoshiko? Sure, I'll do it. Sign me up for my wish. But if you've lied to me and want me to become a hit-man or something, I won't do it.”
Hoshiko nodded and hopped forward, speaking the next part as if by rote from a teleprompter.
“Your assent and qualifier is duly noted. Now, as part of the service, please tell me about the girl of your dreams. What is she like? What are her interests? Her abilities? Her past? Her physical description?”
I had some beer in my fifty year old barrel shaped pea soup green fridge, so I went for it. I had been saving it for a special occasion; even though it was cheap, I couldn't replace it. But I needed one now. It was a Coors, which meant it really wasn't much; it and about nine more of it's kind might give me a buzz. I heaved myself into my broken couch, and Hoshiko jumped up next to me, waiting with a measure of impatience as I ordered my thoughts.
“Well, ideally, she will be cool, calm, and collected. Smarter than I am, with better focus. She will know what she wants out of life. Her abilities and past can be anything, I'm not that picky. It might be nice if she was more athletic than I was, but it's not mandatory. But where you're going to find a woman like that who would like me, is anyone's guess.”
“I am good at my task, Ian. I already have the first candidates in mind.”
“Oh really? Got them on speed dial on your cellphone?”
I'd almost asked if he had them digits, but I didn't think he'd get the joke, and wanted to play nice. Playing nice with the voices in my head; I'd had a truly miserable day. I stared at the half empty Coors can.
“Say, can you change this into something stronger? A liquor like say, tequila?”
“I can, would you like me to? As an addition to your wish?”
Whoa, that was how they got you. Retro me, voice in my head.
“No, I'd like you just to do me a favor. You already have me for the wish, remember?”
Hoshiko sat deathly still for a long moment. I could see his eyes flash something, but it was so fast I couldn't make sense of it. When he finally replied I almost dropped my beer; my eyes had been closing against their will.
“That is agreeable. I cannot do tequila, but I can do a form of rum. Would that be acceptable?”
“Yes that'll work. Thank you.”
He stared at the can. His nod was my cue, and I took a cautious sip. It still tasted like Coors to me.
“Now Ian, quickly. Please tell me, what about the last question? What are the physical parameters of your dream girl?”
Whoops. Now here was where I became a hypocrite. I wanted my match to be hot. Like smoking hot, model hot, actress hot. And this would be the deal-breaker, even for the wish genie creature. Heck, this might just be the key to popping this delusion once and for all, no matter how much having a weird hallucination tell me I was stupid for demanding perfection would be. I downed the rest of the beer before biting the bullet.
“Well, again ideally here, she would be beautiful. The more beautiful the better. Hmm, not as tall as me, I kind of consider that a turn-off. Thin, decently muscled but not a bodybuilder, I prefer long hair.”
My vision narrowed, with darkness around the edges all at once. I heard the can bounce off the floor, though it seemed from far away, but Hoshiko's voice was clear as a bell and his face filled my vision.
“And? We don't have much time left Ian, what about her figure?”
I tried to illustrate but my hands wouldn't move; Had my brain actually blown a gasket after all? I had to settle for speech that was uncomfortably slurred.
“Hourglass shape, of course. Stacked.”
He nodded emphatically as my body, all of it, began this slow thundering tingle as if it were asleep.
“Done! You shall see your dream girl when you wake.”
I'm sure many of you now are grinning in smug superiority, already sure where this tale is leading and sure that it could never happen to you, that you were far more intelligent and clever than I. Than any of us, in fact. You could never be so stupid as to fall for such an obvious trap; we all like to believe such lies.
The truth is the rose colored glasses we filter reality through, the blind belief that something like this could never happen, or could never happen to me, are glasses every human possesses. We pay for them, trading in our true view of reality and the universe willingly to delude ourselves about our importance or ability. At least, until the scales are forcibly ripped from our eyes.
So many of you, the majority of you, would have disbelieved the entire situation as well, and therefore found yourselves right where I was. And where I was, was waking up slumped on my couch, with the sunlight hitting me directly in the face.
Oh shit, my job! If the sunlight was able to hit me, it was 7 am, and I was late!
I managed to get my eyes open, only to see an absolutely huge pair of eyes and a large twitching nose inches from mine.
“Gahhhh!”
My vision widened to include all of the critter, the rabbit thing from last night, and also what the rabbit thing was sitting on. He was sitting on my chest, which was swelled up well beyond my head. I could feel the pressure as the creature shifted on me. There were two mounds of flesh the size of cantaloupes on my chest, that he was nestling between.
“What the hell!”
The creature – Hoshiko – went flying as I sat up, registering my now changed voice. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be happening, this was impossible!
Oh, right. Hoshiko was still here, I was imagining breasts the size of bongo drums on my chest and a voice that would probably manage quite a Marilyn Monroe impression coming from my throat. Obviously I'd moved on from simple auditory and visual hallucinations to tactile ones as well. I couldn't ignore this anymore; I needed to go to a hospital and either be diagnosed with the brain tumor or committed. But first I should probably call in.
I sat up and felt the pull of gravity immediately; what were these imagined puppies anyway? Double D's? E's? Had to be at least that; they were huge. Not that I was that familiar with breast sizes. These things though, jutted out from me like the twin prow of a battleship. Or perhaps tanker prows would be more apt an analogy. A hand crept downwards; I'd hoped I'd still be able to feel little Ian, but was worried I wouldn't.
The cloth the hand crept downwards on was fine silk, sheer and shimmery, a bright white trimmed with large almost neon blue accents. It was a dress of some kind, but it appeared to just be held in place with delicate knots in delicate dark blue cords. It left a large part of hallucinatory me bare; I could see right down the front, and while it was long it didn't encase my legs, and so left them free. And they were gorgeous and went all the way up. My visible skin was a glossy almost translucent white, and strands of hair, both white and light blue, obscured my vision as I sat up and looked for my phone.
My hand reached it's objective, and I discovered that not only could I not feel little Ian, I couldn't feel any underwear, of any kind. Now it didn't surprise me to not see or feel some restraint on my fake chest, but to not feel my boxers was an entire new level of weird. I felt the dress thing, easily. It felt like it was worth more than my entire wardrobe on it's own.
My phone was an older model cheap pay by month phone. There was a phone where I normally kept mine, only this one was an ice blue Samsung Galaxy. I checked it, and it had a network connection... and the current time of 7:21.
It also had my numbers for take out places and taxi services. The number for my parents... the number for my job. Telling my parents I had gone insane or had a brain tumor and now saw myself as female will be an awkward conversation. But I could put it off in favor of a proper diagnosis. I hit speed dial on the proper number.
“Fritz Trucking, IT department, how may I help you?”
Crap it was my boss Monte. Monte was a jerk, and I knew what would happen next. It would have been nicer if my co-workers, any of them, had answered. I'd have preferred Diane, who was pretty hot and seemed nice, but Monte was what I got. So playing the hunch, I removed my phone from my ear.
“Hi Boss, this is Ian. I can't make it into work today, as I have a brain tumor.”
If I was going down, I was going to go down with a bang and not a whimper. Monte's voice changed from pleasant to less so in an instant.
“Ian, you little punk. You've only worked one day. You get here, on time, or you're fired.”
I winced. He was even louder than I thought he'd be. Well, I couldn't even make it on time even if I wanted to ignore the way my chest was bouncing, and the hair pooling on the couch around me. Real or not, it all felt real, and would certainly be one hell of a distraction throughout the day.
“Fine boss, don't worry about my brain tumor or anything, just can me and get the state down on you like a ton of bricks for unfair work practices.”
It wasn't like I could help any of this, darn it!
“Hmm, come to think of it, Ian, that is your number but you sound... different. Maybe you really are sick.”
Wait, I sounded different? Was I hearing that or mishearing that due to mental insanity?
“I can assure you, boss, I am.”
“Alright. You deal with it, go to the hospital and get a note from a doctor when you do. If he O.K.'s it, then you're in the clear. Just stay away from here till then.”
And he hung up on me. Well, that thoroughly creeped me out. I looked at the creature, still looking at me with that unsettling gaze.
“Good morning, Isolde. How do you feel?”
What?
“Why are you still here? You're a remarkably persistent hallucination. And who the hell is Isolde?”
Even the growl sounded more like a purr. A low sultry purr that might well have made my soldier stand, if he wasn't AWOL.
“You are Isolde. Ian is not a female name, and use of a male name for a female would arouse suspicions we can ill afford.”
“First off, I'm not a woman. Second off, if I was a woman, wouldn't I get a choice in names to use?”
Hoshiko cocked his head and scrunched his nose in a way that was probably cute.
“No, you do not get your choice in name; I do. And you are a woman. You have the genitalia and secondary sexual characteristics of a female. Your license and other identification list you as female, and other humans will see you as such. Did something go wrong in the process?”
“Alright, I'll bite. And why am I a woman this morning, exactly?”
Hoshiko's ears flopped, as if not believing his hearing.
“Your wish, of course.”
I wasn't buying it. I tried to cross my arms, but there was no way that was possible now. Trying to squeeze the illusions was well, uncomfortable and vaguely painful.
“And what does my wish have to do with my genitals, exactly?”
“This is hardly the setting to discuss matters of such import, Isolde.”
I interrupted the evasion.
“This is exactly the right setting to discuss matters of such import, Hoshiko. Right here, right now. Consider it a trust building exercise.”
I managed to stop short of threatening the thing with physical violence; after all, what would the point in threatening a figment of my mind be? The creature (Cabbit, my mind whispered through the mental fog shrouding my thoughts) stared at me a moment before relenting.
“That is acceptable. The terms of the contract you agreed to was one wish to meet the girl of your dreams, and an opportunity to spend the rest of your life with her, free of differences in social standing or ability. In exchange you had to do a job for my masters, and I was to be your liaison, trainer, and manager for the job. The nature of your contract is payment before delivery; that is, you are required to do the job we requested in order to receive your wish. In order for you to correctly perform your new job, you had to be transformed into a magical girl.”
….what?
It all slammed home in my mind; I was a failure of an Otaku. Cabbits were a form of magical girl mascot, like rabbits and cats, only less real. Last night this asshole of a thing had been sorting my anime DVD collection into categories... those with magical girls and those without. Only I'd been too tired and worried about my mental health to realize it.
“Why couldn't I be a magic using guy?”
Hoshiko hopped up on the couch I'd vacated, snorting his disgust at the very idea.
“Don't be silly. Only magical girls can use magical girl magic. And magic is required for you to perform your job for us.”
…Did that even make sense?
“What, for the sake of argument, do I need to do? What is this job of yours?”
“Why, fight an evil which threatens all humanity of course. An alien race that your kind have known before throughout human history as demons.”
....right. Clearly, I could skip the hospital and go straight to the asylum.
“I haven't seen any evidence of any alien races, invading or not. Neither has anyone else.”
I made a show of looking out the window before turning back the insufferable thing.
“Nope, nothing there.”
The cabbit sighed again.
“You have seen evidence of an alien race; namely, myself. Humanity has no evidence of the invasion because it hasn't happened yet. But it will happen, and there must be defenders of humanity, or humanity will be defeated.”
None of this made any sense at all.
“And what do you and your bosses get out of this?”
Hoshiko cocked his head again.
“My superiors are altruistic in this matter. They desire to see intelligent life in the multi-verse continue. Humanity qualifies as intelligent life, after a fashion. Well, at least with the criteria expanded slightly. However my superiors do not wish to engage in direct interstellar war over the fate of humanity, instead favoring the approach giving humanity the tools to defend itself. So rejoice monkey, for you have been chosen.”
And the little creep huzzahed with it's paws up. Lord only knew where it got the miniature pom poms. The little cheerleader aids disappeared between one blink and the next as if they had never been, and Hoshiko settled back onto his haunches. I fought down the spike of jealousy; the view of him standing up had left no doubts as to what sex he was. If I wasn't just insane, he was using magic! So why didn't his rules apply to him?
“You're using magic.”
“Of course I am, Isolde. I am your trainer and manager, and am allowed to use magic in order to support and sustain you.”
“Don't call me by that name. That is not my name!”
“But it is Isolde. The magic is very complete, and can easily handle something as simple as the alteration of a name. I can assure you that to the world at large, you are Isolde Geru, only child of Ryan and Sophia Geru, sixteen years old and an emancipated minor who works as an editor for a small publishing company.
He paused and cocked his head.
“Though visiting your parents in this state might be a tad awkward, as they would definitely remember you as male. Also, any friends you may have had would remember your past self. Though, from what I understand, you have no friends. So that should be a moot point.”
Oh, ouch. Low blow. But I had to focus here.
“Sixteen and an emancipated minor? I'm 21.”
Hoshiko sniffed again and wrinkled his nose.
“Of course you aren't. You are a magical girl, and women can't be magical girls; they are too old. That would make you some sort of magical woman, and that idea is just as ludicrous as a 'magical guy'.”
You know what? I don't even care that that statement made no sense at all. Just didn't care. Wasn't going to let it bother me at all. Next question.
“What else changed?”
“A surprisingly pertinent question. Your occupation for one. You are a magical girl, but you are also an editor for an internet publication agency. This particular agency pays well in addition to allowing you to make your own hours, which will be perfect for our demon slaying purposes. Your place of residence has also changed, as this apartment does not allow exotic pets, and under the terms of the lease, I qualify as such. A small expense account has been authorized under your new identity to handle the cost of the move, as well as associated costs dealing with the invaders. You did request a change in occupation as part of your wish.”
The devil is in the details, indeed.
“So I don't live here anymore?”
Hoshiko shook his head, causing his ears to flop all over.
“No, you do not. And I do believe the management of this facility will be arriving shortly in order to emphasize that fact. It would be best if we were gone by then.”
Right. I headed down the short hall to the bathroom. Coors tended to go through one in the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times. I needed to piss like a racehorse. I'd been asleep a good ten hours give or take some minutes, and nature was calling collect.
There was a mirror in the bathroom, a cheap thing hanging over the sink by hooks. It wasn't full length of course, but the image it held arrested my momentum nonetheless.
The image was exotic; unusual beyond any mere normal exotic. The new me was a few inches shorter than the old me, standing at 5 feet 6 inches or I'd eat something unpleasant. Thin yet busty of course, with mammoth breasts I couldn't see my feet past, the waist was tiny; much thinner than my old 30 inch one. My hips and derriere blossomed enticingly outwards, leading to relatively long silky legs. There was just a hint of muscle underneath the alabaster skin throughout.
My new face was delicate, refined, with a long straight pert nose and what almost appeared to be an epicanthic eye fold. There was just a hint of color in the high cheeks, and large almost ruby lips just shy of what botox would be responsible for framed a mouth of straight ivory white teeth.
But the capper, the most arresting assets the new me had, weren't the breasts, or the legs, or the lips... they were a somehow perfect double whammy that would make it impossible for me to blend in anywhere.
My old eyes had been a watery faded blue, the kind that nothing good was ever said about. The best thing about them was, I hadn't needed glasses. My new eyes were like bright chips of faceted blue ice chipped from some ancient ice pack and set into my head. The hair furthered the illusion, alternating between strands of frosty white and strands of sheerest blue, it both looked and fell like a gentle rippling waterfall to my knees.
In short, while I had the body of an exotic dancer, porn star, or gravure model, the refined facial features, eyes and hair put the lie to that first impression but good. There was something about the complete package... if I had seen this lady on the street, I would have assumed she was an upper class noble somehow. Maybe British. This body failed at being crass somehow; it was a body about which sonnets were sung, and epics composed. The dress or whatever it was only added to the effect.
Too bad it was mine.
The stupid dress wouldn't come undone. Those delicate looking knots weren't all that delicate. I finally had to settle for hiking it up. A good thing I'd closed the door without thought; I was pretty sure Hoshiko was waiting outside with that stare of his, and wouldn't have wasted the opportunity for a peek. I wouldn't have, and wouldn't even now, but I couldn't even see my feet, let alone anything else.
I could feel it though, and it felt pretty much like I expected. Which was beginning to poke holes in the hallucination theory, because I had only the faintest idea on how it should feel on the guy's side, and absolutely none at all from the other side. The gentle boiling warmth I felt from just a simple tap to parts unknown was much different; completely foreign to everything else I'd ever felt coming from my nethers before.
And I should probably stop that and just pee before I did something I might later regret, like give that talking rat out there ammunition. I almost pissed myself before remembering to sit down. The feel of liquid beginning to dribble down by leg reminded me.
“So I'm a magical girl then Hoshiko?”
“Yes.”
The answer sounded right outside the door, as expected.
“Then what are my magical powers, exactly?”
I doubted it was to look sexy as hell; seemed to be managing that all on my own.
“An excellent question. There are many types of magical girl, from physical hand to hand specialists to those that command the forces of life and death itself. Yours are element based; specifically, power over cold and ice. The possibilities involving your powers use are nearly endless, and you will no doubt be a strong warrior for love and justice when fully trained.”
Cold and ice, huh? Guess it fit the theme I had going on. I took a washcloth and soap and wiped myself. Then I washed my hands and dried off with my lone towel before opening the door to Hoshiko's unsettling gaze.
“So how do these powers over cold and ice work?”
“Concentration and focus, ideally. However, instead of instruction, we should instead pack any belongings you wish to keep and leave before management arrives to show this apartment to prospective renters.”
Right, according to the hallucinations, I didn't live here anymore.
“You do realize I think this is all one big mind-fuck, right? That I don't actually believe any of this is real? I intend to leave here and go directly to a hospital so they can find the brain tumor or whatever it is that's causing these delusions of mine. That includes you. Probably right after breakfast; I'm hungry.”
“A journey to a hospital would not be conducive to your new job or career. They will not find anything physically wrong with you, and you will end up being committed in a mental institution.”
“Well If I'm crazy, then that should probably happen. I won't get well running around with you by my side.”
Hoshiko cocked his head and stared at me again. That was already getting old.
“But if you are institutionalized, you will be unable to complete your payment for our contract, and will thus be unable to receive your wish. You will also be unable to return to your previous state.”
Wait, what?
“What do you mean, Hoshiko? My previous state?”
The cabbit bounded down the hall as if bored with the conversation, and began packing my DVD's. The ones he had sorted last night, I noticed.
“Your previous gender of course. While you will be unable to return completely to your old self, as completion of your wish will require certain physical adjustments, return to your male gender is possible. Should you renege on your payment, that reversion will not be possible.”
Ack.
“But if you are a delusion, then my new self is a delusion anyway, and proper mental care will 'revert' me.”
I couldn't bring myself to say female form. That felt like bowing to inevitability, or something. Hoshiko cocked his head the other direction and scrunched his nose.
“That is... a logical line of reasoning. Allow me to make a wager with you. If you can prove that you are suffering delusions, I will relent and offer you a boon; a favor, payment free. If however I can prove that you are not suffering any delusions, that you are in fact female and in possession of magic, then you must accept this and grant me a boon instead.”
You know what? Screw it.
“Deal. How would you go about proving me wrong? Since anything you say or can demonstrate can be seen by me as a delusion.”
“Leave that to me. Allow me to collect my boon first, if you would.”
“And what boon would that be? I'm not falling for that trick again, hallucination or no.”
Hoshiko finished boxing my DVD's, and moved on to my games. I had a generation old game system, but the games I'd kept were still pretty amazing.
“Simple. Give me one day to prove beyond any doubt that you are not hallucinating. You must act as if what I am saying is accurate, and you trust and believe me. If at the end of the day you are not convinced, I will escort you to the hospital myself.”
Hmm, more time spent dealing as if this was true. I guess I could give him the time... it wasn't as if I were in a hurry to get fitted with a straight jacket. I could wait until the end of the day.
“Alright, and how will you prove that?”
Hoshiko moved on to my bureau and began throwing clothes out of it.
“I will not. Your experiences throughout the day will. For example; you have now felt what the act of relieving one's self is like for a female of your species. It was different than the act for a male. So then how do you reconcile the issue? Do you believe that you can correctly hallucinate what such a sensation feels like? Or other proper female sensations without any frame of reference?”
A good point. But again, it proved nothing.
“Do you believe that those sensations are accurate or even there at all? I could just be hallucinating them, and deluding myself into believing they are accurate.”
He paused and sighed, holding up an old oversized pair of sweats that I used to be lazy in, which he set aside before resuming throwing my clothes on the floor. A pair of my boxers went flying by my head as he responded.
“You are going to be exceedingly difficult to convince.”
I couldn't resist the smirk pulling my lips.
“Not up to the challenge?”
Hoshiko turned back to me.
“Of course I am. I am a professional magical girl assistant. Now please, help me pack your things. There is much we will have to leave, but if we do not hurry you will be forced to leave all of your belongings. Remember, my boon is that you act as if I am correct.”
Well if he wasn't, then I could always come back here. And if he was, then I really should get a move on. It was now eight-o-clock. What did I absolutely need to take, and what could I live without? My wallet with I.D. and social security card needed to come. My meager savings needed to come. My few photos... I grabbed a box and started throwing stuff in it; mostly eclectic junk that I didn't want to let out of my sight... like my first Halloween light up button, or my zippo that I got for my birthday after dad had caught me smoking behind the house.
Precious memories, in other words, no matter how stupid that sounded.
Hoshiko had found my old college pack from somewhere and was shoveling DVD's and games into it. He'd left the game system out though, and it was kind of necessary for both. I debating about saying something, but when he kicked a controller into the wall I held my peace; let him learn the hard way.
My computer was just too big. An old chugging desktop with a failing fan, it had seen it's share of use, but it was all I had as far as computing power. Well, not anymore; there was the new smart phone, still lying on the battered and nicked coffee table I'd scrounged from someone's garage sale. It went into the box.
I had more questions.
“So, how do I regain my, um, former package, assuming I believe you? I don't remember anything in our agreement that so much as mentions any of this.”
“It is very simple Isolde. You simply need to destroy the invaders. In order to make you a magical girl, much of what made you a male member of your species was drained. The invaders have masculinity in abundance. If you destroy them, you may siphon excess masculinity from them. Enough masculinity drained, and you will 'regain your package', as you so crudely put it. Do this, and your debt to us will be paid, your wish granted. Should you be the first to do so, you will have your choice of women and none of those you choose will be able to refuse you. You will also be able to keep your powers, and any other power you may have gained.”
….What? This had to be a delusion. How the hell could you even drain masculinity? From anyone, let alone from an alien?
“You do realize that makes no sense, right Hoshiko?”
He turned to me with what could only be a smile.
“It makes perfect sense. And that was the first time you've called me by name, Isolde.”
“Yeah well don't get used to it; it doesn't mean anything. Just happened to remember it finally. And don't call me Isolde! That isn't my name.”
“Isolde is your name for the foreseeable future. You should get used to hearing it.”
A single question always seemed to lead to more. I HATED that.
“By the way Hoshiko, I thought you said that I wouldn't need to commit any crimes to pay my debt. Not so sure about where you come from, but around here murder is a crime, and killing aliens might well be considered murder.”
Now there is one thing that college aged men all have and keep religiously, no matter how bad it looks or desperate it seems. Those are hope condoms. The worse the reputation and lower the chance of actually scoring, the more likely you are to see the random plastic package or even box. Words cannot express my unease and dare I admit panic when I saw that Hoshiko had opened my nightstand drawer and found my box of hope condoms, and was checking the expiration date. With a shrug, they went into the pack.
“Oh the invaders are not alive, so they cannot be killed or murdered. They are an animate form of machine.”
Wait a minute... machines running on masculinity? Oh HELL no. Nope nope nope.
“What do these invaders look like?”
“The look varies. Some take forms resembling humans, and some take forms resembling beasts of this planet and some rare ones take forms resembling life on other planets.”
“Slimy, tentacles, kind of amorphous?”
“Many of them share such traits, yes.”
I'd seen this before. We were now squarely into hentai range, and I wasn't staying anywhere near it. At least it explained Hoshiko packing my condoms. I resolved right then and there to lose the box the minute his back was turned.
“I can blast them from range, right? Nice, safe range?”
Hoshiko turned to me and I could almost swear I knew what he was thinking. 'Why so squeemish all of a sudden?' If he was, he didn't call me out on it.
“It should be possible to form ice and then strike them with it from a distance. How they are destroyed does not matter; you are free to become as creative in such endeavors as you wish.”
He turned back to the nightstand and it's contents, mostly old and half used aromatherapy candles. And of course, now I was even more self conscious. I rooted that phone out of the box and looked at it. It stated the time was 8:24. If I wanted to avoid any potential craziness, I would need to be out of here by no later than another 20 minutes. And I didn't want to go out into the great wide world in this freaking dress, or whatever it was. I grabbed my sweats and retreated once more to the bathroom.
Once again I was against the knots on this accursed thing; but this time I was less... rushed. Now I could see that the loops themselves were looped into each other, and all I needed to do was pull the one to the right. I did so and the cloth separated easily. I pulled it off and kicked it in the corner.
My sweats, even stretchy as they were, did not fit. I was able to get the pants on, though they were too tall, and a bit baggy in the legs, the hips... that amazing line stretched the cloth to it's limits. Not to mention made it very obvious I wasn't wearing anything underneath. The top was even worse, showing off just as much and constraining the tankers to a painful degree. When I moved I swear I heard stitching rip.
“Hoshiko! Get in here, I need you.”
The door opened immediately, and he hopped in. How he had managed to reach the doorknob I don't know.
“Yes Isolde? What seems to be the problem?”
This critter couldn't be that dense.
“Isn't it obvious?”
He scanned me and nodded.
“Ahh, you appear to have lost your wrap. Shall I teach you how to summon a new one?”
Of all the infuriating...! My foot stung I stomped it down so hard; not to mention the floor shook and creaked alarmingly. It wasn't as if this place was exceptionally well put together.
“No. That thing you somehow magicked on me was unsuitable to walk down the streets with. I'd have stood out. Questions would have be asked, questions I don't think either of us want to answer. These would be more suitable, and are about the only thing I have that might pass. The only problem is they don't quite fit, and I'd like you to use your mojo to make them fit. Consider it part of your magical mascot duties. After all, if I'm arrested for indecent exposure I won't be able to help you stop any invasions.”
He wrinkled his nose at me, thinking. I'm catching on to his looks, I think.
“That is reasonable, and falls neatly under my job description. At least this time. Hold still please.”
And my ratty gray sweat started to writhe on my form, adjusting here, restitching themselves there, bleeding color and changing fit. As soon as I could properly breathe again I did so. Then I looked down.
The sweats had changed from an old men's pair to a brand new high quality female tracksuit in a blue that I knew with a glance in the mirror matched my new eyes. It had silver trim that appeared to match my hair as well. I was beginning to detect a certain color scheme here. They were just baggy enough to run or work out in, but tight enough to show I had curves. Though honestly I think a burlap sack would show I had curve.
Good thing I was hallucinating.
Underwear would undoubtedly be nice, but the look Hoshiko gave me as he left to resume pawing through my stuff spoke of no further help there. Technically the law couldn't arrest me for going commando, but if I actually had to jog... well I wasn't looking forward to that. Hoshiko spoke up just loudly enough to be heard over the sounds outside.
“Please bring the wrap. It may prove useful later.”
I didn't see any wrap... no Taco Bell wrappers in my bathroom, though I could go for one. Unless he meant the dress thing. Yeah that probably fit, and could be useful, considering it and my new tracksuit were all I had to wear at the moment.
I came back into the living room to find my lone box had been filled, mostly with random crap I was surprised I still owned. That wasn't to say they weren't useful items, like my old Swiss army pocket knife, or my small collection of mismatched cook wear. Which if I were being honest with myself, were mainly just small dented pots to cook ramen in. My old high school jacket, which looked to be over-sized now. It wasn't a letterman's jacket of course, I'd never been a jock; it was from the chess club.
I guess I could use it when it got cold, just like last winter.
“We should leave soon. Can you recall any other belongings you will need?”
I looked around. The small place had obviously been ransacked, but for all that a mere five minutes or so would see it tidy again; it was that spartan. I ran to the bathroom and grabbed my toiletries, and threw them in the box. It was still barely full itself.
“That's everything we could absolutely need. Failing anything else, we can camp out in a park or something.”
“That will not be necessary; you have a domicile set aside for your use, we simply need to travel there. Unfortunately it is on the other side of this city.”
Hoshiko jumped in the box; and on his back... was that my backpack, full of my stuff and sized to fit him somehow? Sure looked like it. According to the cheap wall clock, it was now 8:50.
“Pick the box up please, and let's go.”
“Want a free ride, do you? After all the crap you've pulled on me so far?”
Hoshiko knew the dreaded puppy dog attack, all without being a dog.
“Please be reasonable. You are larger than I, and can cover more ground more quickly. We have many miles to go, and I will tire easily. Also, you admitted appearances are important; if I walk beside you, I am a wild animal. If I am in your arms, I am your companion.”
Reason; almost as effective as the dreaded puppy dog attack. A single tear formed in one of his overly large eyes. I picked up the box.
“Alright, alright, I get it.”
The waterworks shut off before they began, and he almost made me spill the thing in his haste to settle himself face forward. For my part, it was time to dust off my sneaking skills. I walked out the front door and into the too-bright sunshine, and took a left towards the doughnut shop I normally frequented for breakfast.
I'd always sucked at sneaking. Ever since my first try at hide and seek. Luckily enough no one was outside, and the drivers weren't even paying attention to pedestrians. That changed quickly, to the accompaniment of screeching tires and shouting. I looked, curious. Why had that driver stopped?
The driver, a young man in a cheap suit, had his eyes glued directly to me; even when the pedestrian he almost killed by overshooting the crosswalk started yelling at him, his gaze shifted then seemed to snap back to me as if I were magnetized and his eyes steel.
I knew something was up when the pedestrian, a man old enough to be my grandfather, followed the driver's gaze to me and stopped mid rant, mouth open. I quickened the pace. Had they seen Hoshiko? No, he was scrunched down in the box, staring back at me with his unsettling gaze as if to say 'I told you so'.
What had they seen? A guy in a girl's tracksuit? No, that lady in the power-suit walking past didn't spare me more than a passing disapproval tinged glance, and if I were cross-dressing in a tracksuit I'd at least rate a little more staring. That young mother pushing the stroller while walking her dog? Didn't even spare me a glance.
But that older man, running to fat and opening the store with a jolly expression? He stopped dead, leg raised to enter his small shop and did a very credible fish impression. My heart sank to my stomach and my stomach filled my shoes as the light bulb went off in my head. This couldn't be... it was impossible, after all! Every instance of screeching tires, every flat stare, was like an indictment. And Hoshiko, that bunny bastard, kept staring at me through the walk the entire time with what could only be a smug look plastered on his furry face.
Whatever. I guess I could be hallucinating reactions too? Though that seemed stretching it. I certainly wouldn't be able to consciously imagine such reactions. After all, I thought stopping traffic was something that women didn't actually do, no matter how hot they were. I now quite possibly stood corrected. I felt uneasy about approaching people in the street, but luckily breakfast would provide me with a great opportunity to put the matter to rest, without seeming out of place. Or more out of place.
The doughnut shop was ten minutes from my crappy apartment and the bus stop in front of it. Since my college days I had made the pilgrimage there at least once a week for bad for my health breakfasts and gourmet coffee. It was usually a safe walk. Today there were three more near accidents in the ten minutes it took me to reach the door, and in each one the common factor seemed to be men with their eyes wandering. I held the box up, covering what seemed to draw eyes with a type of gravity resembling Jupiters.
The doughnut shop was a chain, one of the better ones that had revamped their business model after all but going bankrupt in one of the recessions, though I'd be darned if I could remember which one; if it wasn't before my time, it was before I was eighteen and paying attention. This particular example of the species had hot fresh doughnuts and other fattening breakfast treats made fresh daily. They also sold coffee, tea, and hot chocolate; the last of which I found odd as a breakfast choice. But apparently it sold well, so who was I to argue?
I hated the coffee and the tea, but they sold these mango mixed fizzy drinks that made my taste buds sing; I could never get enough of them. While I seemed to need caffeine like everyone else when trying to wake up or study, I preferred mine in pill form. Well pill or citrus-y cola.
But today, as expensive as it was, I could really use one of those mango drinks... spiked with rum or something. Too early for that though; I had to wait at least an hour.
The guy behind the counter was Rob, the same guy that had sat behind the same counter when I started college, and he would likely be here long after I was gone, despite his claims of being a student himself, and around my age. It was a few minutes before the great breakfast rush, and he had one elbow on the immaculate counter, chine resting in his hand; looking for all the world as if he might burst into bored tears at any moment.
He glanced over as the door chime, then perked up so fast I could have sworn he left an afterimage for a second. His gaze gravitated much as the other men this morning had; right to my chest. He looked up at my face for little more than a second before heading back down. I all but had my answer, but I wasn't about to give up yet.
“I'd like two glazed and a melon punch, please.”
He was moving before I finished the sentence, sliding a small bag of two prepackaged glazed doughnuts across the counter at me, then almost fumbling them in his haste to grab a cold can of mango melon punch from the cooler under it.
“Never seen you here before; new student?”
...Shit. Nothing I could read in his glance showed that he was seeing a guy in ratty sweats, because he of all people would recognize me. Or at least should; he saw more of me than my former professors had. Nothing to say he was seeing a guy in girl clothes, either. Not so much as a hint of surprise over the picture he was seeing, or at least none that I could detect. Which meant that either my hallucinations were affecting how I saw other people reacting around me (something that could happen, I thought) or I really was a girl in girl clothes, setting a box on his counter with a grateful sigh.
Holding the box in front of my new assets for minutes at a time got kind of tiring, no matter what shape my body was in.
“No, just passing through and wanted something bad for me.”
My smile felt fake, but he bought it.
“Shame. Starting college? That'll be 3 dollars and 87 cents, please.”
And then I realized the flaw in my plan; my wallet, with all my means of paying, was in the box... at the very bottom. There was no line to hold up, but that didn't make me feel any less an idiot. I'd even put the phone back in there. Some random mugger could completely ruin my day.
Before I could reach in to fish for the method of payment, Hoshiko offered it to me, crinkled nose twitching and eyes wide. He had my debit card held gently in his teeth.
“Wow, that's one smart rabbit you got there.”
The debit card looked vaguely like mine; it was a visa like mine, but issued from a different bank. I grasped it and Hoshiko let go easily enough; it was even free of slobber. The name on the card was Isolde Geru.
“Yes, he is. He has all sorts of tricks, though his ears are a bit unusual for a rabbit.”
Rob looked again while running my new card. One I suspected did not exist sixty seconds ago.
“Oh really? How so?”
Damn. Double damn. Rob was looking and clearly not seeing anything unusual with the bunny before him. Problem is, I could clearly see the overly large and clearly non-standard cat-bunny ears Hoshiko possessed. If I was delusional and seeing hallucinations, I simply wouldn't see anything wrong with Rob knowing about cabbits.
But Rob was seeing a bunny, and I was seeing a cabbit when he looked at Hoshiko. Our expectations weren't matching. When he looked at me, Rob was seeing a beautiful if slightly unusual girl in girl clothes. All the cues I was getting from him told me so. My mirror and his expectations matched. Hoshiko was staring back at me with a knowing gaze and a slight grin. I thought quickly.
“His ears are a bit large for the type of rabbit he is.”
He looked again, his face stating clearly that he was not seeing it but willing to take my word for it.
The only reason for one to match and the other not to, was if our perceptions were not being influenced by my mental state. Rob further drove home the dichotomy as he handed my new card back with a receipt.
“Like your hair. Looks very punk-ish but... elegant. That length has got to be a real bear to deal with though.”
“It is. I'm considering cutting it all off.”
The door to the backroom opened, interrupting us, and in stepped Cindy.
Cindy Lipman had been a secret crush of mine for years, and the real reason I had come here for breakfast as often as I could. She was tall, blonde, leggy, and fit with an angelic face. A former alum at the college, she was 27 and unmarried, with no kids. Her major had been acting, and she spent time as the lead in a small theater at the edge of town, waiting for her big break.
Not that I was stalking her or anything.
No matter how hard I had tried, I could never get her to notice me, in three years of coming here every week. It had done wonders for my self esteem. But she noticed me now, and in a hurry. She stopped, eyes wide for a second, but they closed into slits and she purred.
“Hello. Good morning, and welcome to the Creme Crepe. Haven't seen you here before; new in town? Going to the college?”
I was struck with an incredible sense of deja vu as she sauntered over, licking her lips and giving me a look that was more predatory than Rob's had been. What the hell? Where was the cold tightly controlled fish I'd come to know and love all these years? There was more heat in her gaze now than Mount St. Helen's. Something was seriously wrong here; I found my tongue by glancing at Hoshiko, who was clearly having a field day, despite the lack of expression on his furry face.
“Um, no. First time here, and I'm a bit too young for college yet. Just stopping in on my way to move.”
“Oh. Anywhere close? Cute bunny. And how old? I'd have guessed you to be about 18?”
I wilted a bit under the onslaught of personal questions. This was more than I'd heard her speak to me in a year. I was game though.
“Across town, 16, and I'm often told I look older than I am.”
Now why had I said that? My real age was 21; even if there was no way I looked 21 (I'd have pegged me at around 18 too) why had I said 16? Hell, I'd forgotten what it was like to be 16, other than the vague sense of everything at all being awkward at that age. Rob added his own 2 cents, his own demeanor cooling a bit.
“That rabbit is smart, but apparently the ears are weird.”
Her attention turned to Hoshiko briefly, and she dismissed him with a smile as he looked at her, debit card back in his mouth. She didn't see his true ears either.
If anything, when her gaze snapped back to me, there was even more heat in it. I stuffed the bag and prepared to make good my escape when the voice of the crotchety manager sounded from the kitchen.
“Cindy! Get back in here, we still need three racks done before the morning rush!”
She rolled her eyes then sent another smoky look my way.
“Well, got to get back to work. Morning rush soon and all that. Still, if you can, stop on by later. I'll be happy to show you all the sights.”
And she sauntered back into the kitchen, putting some extra wiggle into her walk. Rob and I both watched her go, Rob with some lethargic appreciation. I was just shocked.
“Dude. Rob... what the hell was that?”
Rob looked at me as if to say 'you're kidding, right?' Hoshiko shot the exact same look, somehow; if only Rob had been looking at him. He looked to make sure the coast was clear and then crooked a finger, and I got closer.
“Miss, you couldn't tell? Cindy is a lesbian. And not all that particular about things like age differences. Best if you watch yourself around her.”
I felt sick. I had been pining over a lesbian all these years? I'd stood no chance at all! And now, now I did, and it was statutory! Not that the idea of having someone, anyone, fondle my new parts (or worse) was appealing to me at the moment. But it was the final straw that broke my theory.
After all, I would never have dreamed she was a lesbian; I would never have dropped that bomb on myself; delusions were self serving to an extent, after all. My mind would have had her staying her typical ice queen self, distant and unattainable and oh so very desirable, instead of that creepy thaw she pulled.
I definitely wouldn't have pegged her as what she was. Whatever she was. That was a matter for a legal team, after she touched an underage girl. That girl wouldn't be me, however, in any case.
“Right, got to go. Have a nice day, Rob.”
If he responded, I didn't hear it. I walked out in a daze, no longer paying attention to anything.
I had a restless night, waking up often; seems that much as I used to like sleeping on my stomach, there was no way in hell that was possible now. I couldn't even rely on my own dreams or the mindless bliss of unconsciousness to distract me from the level of suck that my life had become, or the knowledge that it was all my fault. I really wanted to blame the stupid talking rat-rabbit thing, and some of the fault most definitely was his, but it would be a cop-out to lay the entire blame at his feet.
I wouldn't be letting him off the hook, however, especially since he was jumping right on my chest to wake me up from a sound sleep that I'd had to fight to get into.
I bucked him off and threw a pillow at his head, missing.
“What do you want, you mutant rodent?”
“It's time to train.”
I'd spent several hours walking to this new location yesterday, which was a huge waste of time; if Hoshiko had told me how far away it actually was, I'd have called a cab. The new place to live had turned out to be an old Buddhist temple outside of town and off a highway, set back in a wooded mountain which did not fit in this area at all. I mean, there weren't been any Chinese here ever, let alone monks. No railroad had been through here, so who built the temple?
While I was still trying to wrap my mind around that little bit of insanity, Hoshiko took me behind the temple, to the traditional Japanese manor house, all screens, wood, and paper doors.
O.K., no way had I lived here this long, and missed this. It looked like Asian culture threw up it's past, right outside of college town U.S.A. How was this here, and not a tourist attraction?
In all the time, I was here I'd never even heard about this being here, and I could have swore this mountain wasn't here yesterday. I had to ask.
“Hoshiko, did you magic up an entire temple and house?”
He had twitched his nose before replying.
“Of course not, that would be ridiculous.”
I smelled the bull-crap; it was particularly pungent.
“Right, whatever. So how did this place come to be, exactly?”
“It was built, of course.”
I wanted to throw the insufferable bastard; with a herculean effort I had resisted. I did however place him gently on the ground; he could walk on his own the rest of the way. That and he was in kicking range, at least until he wised up. I didn't normally consider actions that would make PETA mad at me, but I don't think PETA ever had to deal with smug talking animals before.
The rest of the day was spent cleaning the temple; it had plenty of rooms in the back and had to be better insulated than the house out back. At the very least, it was better sound insulated. A quick check had revealed a modern sink with running water in the modern kitchen, electricity and lights, a few modern bathrooms and a public shower. Modern was relative I supposed; the wiring was all large cables and old fixtures that reminded me of old world war 2 films, while the refrigerator, washer, and dryer all seemed to be recent vintage. I could fit myself into all three if I wanted, they were that big. It all worked.
Of course I had taken the largest room for myself; the head monks room, or whatever. Not only was it the largest, but it had it's own bathroom and shower, as well as large windows. It also had the thickest walls. Evidently the vow of poverty was not equal, or something.
Then, because I was an idiot, and I couldn't really stand all the flaked plaster coming from the walls and carpet of dust on the floors, I pulled out my meager cleaning supplies and got to work; starting with my chosen room and working out. The place was huge, and I'd run out of my own stuff after an hour.
When I'd come back to my room and Hoshiko to ask him to magic up some cleaning supplies, I'd found him on my phone. He had his ear pressed to it, and was nodding. How had he even dialed?
“Yes, that's right. The address is number one ridge road. Yes, thank you; see you shortly.”
He turned to me while curling onto my backpack.
“Please, continue cleaning.”
How far could I punt him, I wondered. But no, if I aimed for the window, I'd break it, and I'd just cleaned it an hour ago.
“Why are you using my phone, exactly?”
“I was forced to; the old telephone lines to this monastery were cut by a natural disaster decades ago, and never replaced.”
I stomped over.
“Why. Were. You. Using. My phone?”
“In order to order the furniture and groceries you would need in order to live here in comfort. One of us had to, and you were occupied. Now the deliveries are on their way. So why have you stopped cleaning? If your efforts slow much more, the facility will not be properly prepared.”
I had to work hard for patience. Calm. The opposite of murder. I was fairly sure he hadn't meant to imply I was a glorified maid.
“Properly prepared for what, Hoshiko?”
He had looked at me as if I were insane.
“Why, the arrival of all your sisters of course. Others like you, pledged to fight the coming evil. You are among the first, but are not among the last. And this facility has plenty of room. You will of course, benefit from the example and socialization of your peers, as they will benefit from your own example.”
O.K. I didn't think I was the only one, wasn't even sure I was among the first, though that was good to hear confirmed, but living with a bunch of magical girls, as one myself? I mean, even rooming with normal girls would be dicey; what if they figured out I wasn't a real girl somehow, or something?
“I'm out of cleaning supplies. Literally everything.”
Hoshiko paused and placed a paw to his face in a thinking gesture.
“Ah. Well, in that case I believe the closet next to the shower, the one I found the broom and dustpan in, has some bleach and other cleansers.”
It did, which was a good thing, because I wasn't walking back to town in order to buy a bunch of cleaning crap I didn't really have money for; I had a sneaking suspicion that it'd be better if I didn't spend anything until I saw just what Hoshiko had ordered.
So yesterday was a dazed frenzy of activity and bleach, broken only by directing the hired movers to drop their various loads in the proper places, and finally capped by me doing something really dumb, and polishing the extra large bronze statue of Buddha in the main hall. I still wasn't done cleaning, but it was livable now. The mold and dust were all banished back to their respective places, and the air was clean.
The place showed some signs of it's age, but showed no sign at all of disrepair; it was weird. It was as if while dirt had had free reign over the place, decay had never been allowed it's normal hold.
I rolled out of bed, introspection over. I had questions of course, I already felt I'd always have questions from here on out, but with Hoshiko finally wanting to actually train me in the use of the one really cool part of this entire deal, it was best to strike while the iron was hot. But not too hot.
“Time for breakfast you mean, then training.”
Hoshiko huffed and conceded as his little stomach growled loud enough for both of us to hear.
The kitchen had been fully stocked thanks to a grocery store that delivered, and I handed Hoshiko a carrot while I dragged out some fruit loops. I still found it a bit odd that Hoshiko knew what my favorite foods were, cereal included, (downright creepy actually; just how long had he been watching me?) but such concerns were far down the list at the moment.
Hoshiko stared at the carrot, then at me, and I knew he wanted to protest, but a second later he just shrugged and started nibbling. He no doubt had expected me to cook some crazy large continental breakfast thing; I was all too happy to disappoint him there.
As soon as I was done, before I could even put the bowl in the sink, Hoshiko was tugging on my leg.
“Come on, we have to train now, you must be ready.”
“Alright, alright, I'm coming.”
Little mutant had quite the grip.
He led me outside and into the yard behind the monastery; it was overgrown of course, but teeming with life. Mostly colorful flowers and sweet smelling plants; I'm sure I'd be in at least minor awe if I knew anything at all about plants, but the only ones I recognized were the rosebushes. Well those and the dandelions.
For all the plant life, nothing snagged my clothes or tried to hitch a ride as I walked the overgrown path behind my pushy companion. He led me to a clearing filled with tall grass and little else and stopped; evidently we were going to engage in some exotic gardening. Hoshiko turned to me and I gave him my full attention.
“Alright, first lesson. To properly utilize your power, you must think cold.”
His nose twitched as he fell silent. My nose twitched as I waited. Hoshiko shifted then looked up at me expectantly. What the hell? This was my in depth instruction?
“Think cold? That's it? That's all I get?”
I wasn't thinking cold thoughts at the moment. Cold blooded, perhaps, but not cold specifically. Hoshiko must have read my mind, because he was backpedaling quickly and looking around for an exit. I wasn't about to point out that it' be hard to track him through the grass if he vanished into it.
“Please, just try it Isolde. Calm down, take a deep breath, and think of cold.”
I tried. Closing my eyes, I pictured glaciers; giant fields of ice swept with bitter winds. Gently falling snow and terrifying sleet. The crisp tingle of snow on the tongue and the pin and needle numbness of frostbite. And just that easily a mental switch threw itself within me.
I memorized where that switch was and how it felt to be on as I opened my eyes to see snow falling despite the summer heat. A quick look down revealed that yes, Hoshiko was looking very smug. A thought and I could feel the moisture suck itself from the air and form the icicle I had desired. It floated there in mid-air, tugged left and then right by my mind. I had complete control over it.
I sent it zipping around while thinking. Telekinesis of ice? That was the only way I could explain what was going on; I could feel the frozen water around me, and control where it went. And for that matter, sure there was plenty of moisture in a given stretch of air, but pulling it all together in just a little icicle should actually affect the local humidity. Taking deep breaths revealed no noticeable change in air quality that way. So how far could I push it?
Hoshiko watched silently while I summoned another dozen icicles. With a thought I hardened them and sent them arrowing into the ground in a smiley face pattern. They didn't shatter, and the air still didn't feel any different; so where was all the water actually coming from? I was sure some of it was from the air because I could feel it as it froze, but all of it couldn't be.
How far could I take it?
Hoshiko's gaze was unsettling as I willed even more ice into existence, ending up with a veritable forest of sunlight refracting shards. I knew how many I had made... one hundred and twenty. Counting the dozen I still had control of, the total was one hundred and thirty-two. And yet I only felt the barest hint of strain. Taking a breath with the ice all around me revealed that the air was slightly less humid, taking on that crisp quality it often does during cold winter days. My breath was also frosting in front of me.
I made the ice wizz around, amusing myself by cutting the grass with it for awhile. Wouldn't do to have Hoshiko have more potential escape routes, after all. After a minute of that I got bored of it and let the ice dissipate. The air did not become more humid as the moisture bled off into the air, though the temperature rebounded immediately; I stopped being able to see my breath. Another thought stopped the snow as I looked to Hoshiko, who was still silent. I couldn't resist a little verbal needle.
“Well?”
“You took to your power surprisingly quickly; well done. You also took to the simple attack aspects of your power surprisingly quickly as well. Perhaps some training in defense is in order?”
Another thought, and shields of ice started forming, varying in size and thickness. The larger ones took longer of course, though the speed with which I could form any of them rivaled a gunfighter on the draw in those old westerns; a full body shield so thick I couldn't see through it at all took just under a second, and the rest were faster.
But I wasn't limited to that.
Another thought and blinding snow and hail poured down, obscuring all vision completely. I couldn't even hear anything over the howling wind and crashing ice; so that worked as a form of protection easily. I cut that off and refocused, and the ice slid across the ground with the same speed of my shields forming and coated things at my direction; I was tempted to coat Hoshiko, but knowing my luck it'd actually hurt him.
Another thought. I bent and picked up some leftover hail. It felt like normal ice, but wasn't melting in my hand. Walking across the spread ice was easy for me too; I didn't slip at all, unless I wanted to. Then I could slide all over as if I were skating, and stop at will. There was certainly a telekinetic aspect to all this.
Another thought, and I made it as cold as I could by surrounding myself with a box made of layers of ice. Not five minutes later Hoshiko was shivering, but I was not. I could feel the cold, but it didn't seem to affect me. I melted all the ice I'd made with a thought, and the humidity returned to normal once again.
A shame really, I liked that crisp air feeling.
So I could make structures out of ice, quickly and easily, as well as just shields. That and cold didn't seem to affect me at all; at the very least, I didn't feel it. I suppose the cold could still hurt me from exposure, even if I didn't feel it.
“Hoshi.”
He didn't say anything about the nickname; he was still shivering a bit.
“Yes, Isolde?”
Right, why would I feel bad about giving this talking rat a nickname? He had changed mine without asking.
“I don't seem to feel the cold as I used to, or as you do; is that intentional?”
“Of course it is Isolde; you would be much less effective at your tasks should your own power cause you such problems as others experience. As such, while you can still feel and be aware of colder temperatures, you can no longer suffer tissue damage from such, though attacks based in cold such as your own might still affect you in other ways.”
Such as blunt force trauma, I'd assume.
“Are there others with my powers?”
He scrunched his nose but didn't hesitate.
“Not at present, but it is a future possibility.”
Good to know.
“Is there anything else you can think of for me to train? Anything else you'd like to see me try?”
Hoshi adopted his thinker pose.
“Not at present. Your imagination currently exceeds my expectation.”
Was that... a compliment? Weird, I think it was.
“Alright. Then I guess we finish cleaning. You going to help today?”
Hoshi crinkled his nose again, then nodded.
“Of course. I shall help you mop.”
He took the lead, while I surveyed the destruction I had wrought. It wasn't that bad; all I'd managed to mess up was the grass, and by messing up the grass I meant cutting it in a haphazard fashion. Well, without a lawn mower, it was probably the best I could do.
I suppressed the desire to coat my surroundings in ice again, just for the beauty of it. I wonder if the power messed with my mind somehow? I mean I'd always liked winter before, but wanting to coat random surroundings in ice seemed a bit much. I shoved those thoughts down deep.
Instead I went back to the stellar and not mind numbing at all work of mopping. There was still so much of this old monastery to dust and mop, and I doubted I'd ever be able to get the pigeons and doves out of it entirely. Any other skittering ground critter was getting war to the knife; a pigeon would be stopped by a door, and wouldn't crawl into bed with me in any case.
The mop that I made of ice and kept renewing out of water mixed with bleach made the process easier at least; it was slightly harder to freeze the bleach in the water, and I could manage it. It also kept me from having to wring out the old mop I'd found yesterday. Once everything was frozen, it was easy to just melt the 'mop head' a little at a time to clean the floor. The implications of being able to freeze liquids other than water were staggering... and frightening.
For more... solid things on the floor, a coat of ice that stretched and contracted, then rolled along ahead of me removed all particulate matter. While I mopped I checked the new beds and desks and other furniture the movers had brought directly into the old monk cells. They weren't much, being far less nice than what Hoshi had ended up ordering for me, but were still sturdy and serviceable. We had outfitted a full twenty cells that way in addition to my own squatted room. I didn't like those implications.
He had even ordered replacements, which were being stored in what could only have been one of those old airy medical wings made famous in the fifties. I had not liked the implications of that either; though I could see why. My powers were easily destructive, and not everyone out there had my self control.
Well, I hadn't murdered Hoshi yet, so I was going to go with my control being better than average, at least. If any of the other recruits to this insanity wanted to treat their own animal companion and helper in ways PETA wouldn't approve of, well, as long as they didn't bring the place down around all our heads I might overlook it.
For all I know, I might have gotten the only annoying one.
A trip to the kitchen for lunch found the little lazy bum already there, nibbling on his carrots. I washed my hands and made a sandwich. Both the fridge and pantry were fully stocked, but if there were many more people showing up here, the food likely wouldn't last long.
“Hoshi, do you know how many people we are looking at showing up here? And when?”
I refused to call them magical girls, at least out loud. He shook his head, sending his ears swinging.
“I do not. I expect that many may eventually find us, though there may be as many as several hundred or even a few thousand involved before the matter is decided. As for when the first may find us, again I do not know, though I suspect we have at most a week to prepare for the first.”
Really, that many involved? This sort of thing would be hard to keep secret.
“Have you made your decision on the other property yet?”
“Huh?”
“The house behind this monastery. Have you decided when you will clean and prepare it?”
Wow, he was on crack or something.
“Yeah, I was thinking never. That place is more trouble than it's worth; the monastery is big enough to clean and maintain, and that house is going to be cold when winter hits.”
That kind of place built here was just stupid; there was no way it could be a proper house, being made of paper and flimsy wood like it was. Hoshi just stared at me. I found myself sighing.
“Look, if we need the room it's there. If we don't than it's a waste of time to mess with it.”
“I suppose that is acceptable.”
There was a knock at the door. I stared at Hoshi... and he stared back. I went to answer it with a sigh; and he followed, wonder of wonders.
“What else did you order?”
I couldn't think of anything, we had already dealt with all the movers setting up furniture in the main hall while ogling me as much as possible. We had everything we needed already, didn't we?
“I believe our window to the outside world is all that is left.”
What did that mean?
Another 3 knocks sounded before I managed to make it to the door; the monastery was a big place. Fortunately I had countered that with a painstakingly hand written sign advising any callers that I could be awhile answering the door, so the caller was still present.
Turned out Hoshi meant the cable guy. Well technically in this case, the satellite dish guy since the monastery was too far outside of town to have old fashioned cable. He was young, and taller than I was, and a bit rugged looking, like an outdoors-man or a park ranger or something. He looked me up and down while matching my frosty smile with his own genuine one.
“Hello miss. Got an order here to install television and internet to the property for a miss Geru?”
I could see Hoshi's miniscule nod from the corner of my eye, so I gave the guy a nod of my own.
“I'm miss Geru. Come in, please.”
He looked around as we entered and whistled.
“Large place. Hopefully you don't need the entire place wired?”
I snorted. I didn't really need any of it, though television might be nice to watch again.
“Of course not. I'll show you.”
He ended up hooking up a grand total of twenty rooms and the common room for wired television access, as well as making a sort of miniature WiFi hotspot. I had only wanted to have two rooms hooked up, but with more people due to show, I didn't want to keep calling this guy back. All done in the basement of course, which I had yet to touch and had very few working lights. It took him most of the day in that dark pit, something I didn't begrudge him in the slightest. He didn't seem to mind, packing up with a wave and a ready grin just as the sun began to set, cobwebs festooning him like a movie archeologist. I couldn't suppress the sigh as he left; it was hard to try and act normal now.
We actually managed to finish cleaning all the more useful and used areas of the monastery by the time night fell. The ironic thing was the lights were the last thing I tackled, making ramps of ice that I could climb with ease in order to replace the old bulbs in fixtures inset in the high ceilings; at least those we had replacements for. Old bulbs were old bulbs, after all. I was very careful not to touch the wiring.
Work done for the day, I locked the doors, shut and locked the windows, (oddly enough while the locks were hard to turn, they did work well) and shut off the lights everywhere but my chosen chambers. Once there I contemplated my old barely high definition television before sighing and curling around a good book in my new bed. It was more comfortable than my old one, but I wasn't about to tell Hoshi that.
I opened my eyes slowly in the gloom. I could hear the birds singing cheerily outside, as well as assorted other small movements my mind was quick to classify as the movement of small animals. My room was dark, even in the sun.
Hoshiko was staring right into my eyes.
With a yell (most definitely not a scream) I leaped backward, knocking the furry little bastard from the perch he'd found, mere inches from my face. I put a hand to my chest to contain my heart, then realized sourly it was in no danger of leaving my chest; there was simply too much chest to go through.
“Don't DO that!”
“Do what?” The little vermin asked, wriggling his nose as he righted himself.
“Get up in my face like that, sneaking around; don't act like you don't know how rude that is.” I shot to my feet, only overbalancing a little and righting myself quickly, and grabbing some clothes.
“...Is it because of the potential for attack?”
Halfway to the shower I stopped and turned. “Of course it is! Or at least, that's how it started. You mean you really don't know?”
Sneaking around someone who was sleeping made them wonder what else you were doing, and watching them sleep from inches away was all but a threat. Not to mention surprising people who were sleeping like that could make them lash out. Was it not like that in Japan? Hoshiko seemed pretty oblivious.
Hoshiko held his paws out and shook his head, then hung it. “I apologize. I was not aware such actions would make you uncomfortable. I was merely watching you sleep.”
That's what I was afraid of, thanks. “Why? Don't you sleep?”
“I do,” Hoshiko replied. “but I do not need as much sleep as a human. I was simply trying to ascertain your sleeping needs.”
Hadn't he ever met a human before? “What did you do before you were a magical... err... critter? Humans generally require eight hours of sleep for best results and wakefulness. I think I'm a bit under that, for the moment.”
“I worked in procurement before this job. I am aware of the general sleep patterns of humans, I was trying to determine if yours were different.”
Procurement? “Procurement of what?”
Hoshiko wrinkled his nose. “Procurement of candidates for magical animals.”
Huh; interesting. I slammed the shower door in his face, then yelled through the door. “They are. Give me fifteen minutes.”
I showered quickly; my new hair took most of the time allotment. Dressed in new jeans and a loose shirt, I rejoined the little rat-thing to get some breakfast. Hoshiko hopped along dutifully as I headed to the kitchen.
On a whim, I asked: “You want anything special for breakfast?”
“Pancakes?” Was his hopeful response.
I could live with that, we had the mix and we had strawberries. “Sure, I can do that.”
I grabbed the stuff needed and got started. Hoshiko watched me work.
“Now pay attention, I expect you to do this for me sometime.” It was half a joke, and half not.
“Have you ever wondered how the first person among your kind ever created the recipe for pancakes?”
Well, that was surprising. “Yes, I have before. I've even wondered how the first person to cook came up with the idea. But with no way to go back in time, there is no way to know, so it's just a useless question. Idle curiosity that can't be sated.”
Hoshiko cocked his head. “Do you often wonder such things?”
I shrugged, stirring batter. “I think everyone does, eventually. At least once. Some do it as kids, some wait until later, and some don't care, but I think questions like that cross everyone's mind eventually. Why? Is that not true for magical animals?”
Hoshiko looked away, staring at the strawberries. I was ready for him, but he didn't make his move. “It is; we wonder many such things - but we have no reference for them. We are young, with no shared history to draw experience from.”
Yeah, I could see how that would suck, and I told him so. “Sucks to be you.”
“I would argue having a shared experience to draw from is only superior if the data is accurate.”
Why that insufferable little... “Are you trying to say human knowledge of physics, biology, and the like is inaccurate?”
“Purely scientific subjects are not inaccurate, merely incomplete. However, your history is replete with illogical and highly suspect modes of thinking and historical inaccuracies passed as truths. These color all other interactions with your reality, some in... less than positive ways.”
Okay, that made sense, and I couldn't call him out as wrong on it, but his wording choice was bad.
“You're pretty condescending at times, you know that?”
His response was to slather strawberries on the first pancake and eat it in silence; at least he knew better than to try and lie about it.
I filled out the skillet, and Hoshi looked at the amount of batter left. “You will need more than that.”
I looked again. There was enough for three pancakes left in the bowl, and 3 currently cooking. I certainly didn't intend to eat more than four. “Plan on being a pig?”
Hoshi cocked his head, considering the reference almost as if he didn't understand it (maybe he didn't) before replying simply: “Yes.”
Not much I could do to argue with that. With a shrug, I made another batch, in another bowl, because mixing an old and new batch just wouldn't work. It was fine, Hoshi knew how to do dishes, and since he was making me cook, dish duty was his job. Even if I had to persuade him – with lots of ice.
“You're doing the dishes.”
Hoshi cocked his head again. “Agreed... so long as you either practice using your new abilities or exercise your new body while I am occupied. I would recommend a stress on 'cardio', as you humans call it. Something like running or jogging.
Yeah, fat chance I could do much of either with these water balloons on my chest. “You think I'll need to run a lot? Are the monsters I'm supposed to fight that dangerous?”
Hoshi scratched his nose a paw, smearing strawberry juice on it. “Unknown. They can be very dangerous, but their powers vary and I cannot be certain. But more endurance can only help you, in a variety of situations.”
I flipped a napkin at him. When he looked at it curiously, I tapped my nose. He got the idea, cleaning his own off by smearing the juice into his fur further; whoops, I should probably have wet it first. He looked back to me with a pink nose; served him right.
I tried to hide my smirk when I gave him the thumbs up. I don't think he was fooled, but he didn't call me on it.
I took my four, slathered them in strawberries, and filled myself in between cooking the rest, watching as Hoshi methodically chewed through his own.
“Hope you've been paying attention; you may need to do this yourself one day.”
“Why?” was Hoshi's puzzled response.
“If I'm not around, or wounded or something? I'm not going to be able to cook for you.”
Hoshi shrugged. “That is what fruit and pastries are for.”
Oh really? I finished up on both counts. “You like donuts?”
Hoshi scrunched his nose and sneezed, with his red colored paws well away from his fur. “I do.”
I grinned. “You're going to be a little blimp if you eat like that all the time.”
“Your concern is both touching, and noted.” He made shooing motions. “Now please, go to work. Try to remain out exercising until I finish cleaning the dishes, if you would.”
Exercise I did. Out of curiosity, I tried the running thing, and even with a sports bra I was courting a concussion. Okay, not really, but there was enough rolling around to make me believe I could court concussion, and having that happen for long hurt.
I made it three laps around the property before I collapsed, gasping. Not too terrible really, for me. A quick glance in the kitchen window showed Hoshi wasn't even half done with the dishes, so after a short rest, it was on to another lap. Ten minutes later and more gasping, and Hoshi had just washed and was carefully stacking his third dish.
The little bastard was doing it on purpose.
I did 20 sit ups and 20 push ups, muscles straining. This was suspiciously easy. In fact, this body was toned well enough, but despite appearances it had very little stamina. It was suspicious. Another check revealed Hoshi on the fourth dish. I embraced my power and made an igloo, the better to wait out his stonewalling....
Nah, to hell with it. I marched back inside, controlled myself very carefully as I picked him up and put him aside back on the counter, knocked the stool he'd been on out of the way, and finished the dishes.
“You absolutely suck at washing dishes.”
Hoshi grabbed a towel and dried his hands. “I was being careful... and thorough.”
“You were being slow, and anal.” I countered, not amused. “That wasn't our deal.”
Hoshi's huge ears perked up suddenly, and he scanned them around. “It's time.”
Alright, I'd bite. “Time for what?”
“Your first magical girl sortie! I am detecting a demon in the city. You must do your duty and find and defeat it.”
Wait. Wait wait wait. “Demon? Didn't you say they were aliens?” I distinctly remember Hoshiko telling me aliens were attacking.
Hoshiko scratched his nose, pausing before meeting my eyes. “Demons are aliens, Isolde. But if you are wondering, we call them the Diflys.”
“Why? Does that mean something?”
Hoshiko jumped up. “No, we call them that because we can. They have never attempted to communicate with us... only kill species they consider inferior. Now come on, we must go.”
He started to push me. I humored him, starting out the door. “Go how? How am I supposed to find this alien demon?”
Hoshiko bounded ahead. “I can detect it from great range, but not precisely. When we get close enough you will be able to detect it yourself, and hopefully with greater precision. We've no data to confirm this, however, as you are the first magical girl we've created among your kind.”
Go me.
“Any idea how I'm supposed to get into the city quickly? It took all day to walk out here last time.” I was supposedly 16, so I could still drive, but I didn't have a car.
“That should not be a problem,” Hoshiko stated. “I will take you; I am your magical girl mascot, after all. Please follow me.”
And he turned around and hopped off toward the courtyard. With a shrug I followed; at worst I was a few minutes behind an epic marathon sprint I'd undoubtedly drop dead on.
No sooner had I reached the courtyard – again – then I was enveloped in a crystal blue light. A circle of weird geometric designs opened up under me, and I fell into blackness.
I had time to feel both cold and hot, and wonder if my eyes had somehow fallen out of my head before I felt wind streaming under me. I landed on a sidewalk and rolled my ankle. I also had to fight my gorge down; you need extra pancakes, Hoshi had said.
“Damn it!” I rubbed the offending leg as Hoshi turned and shushed me.
“A magical girl does not curse. Now please be as quiet as possible, we are close.” I thought, very seriously, about yakking on him, but let it go.
We were in a park. A nice, pleasant park, with sculpted trees and freshly mown grass, and flower lined walks. It was well cared for... which was insane; it did not scream 'big city'. Big city was all about decay and disinterest, not... whatever this was. It was almost disgustingly cheerful. There were no birds, though, or squirrels, or any small furry animal. No people either.
Hoshi also had a point; this close I could feel it too, as if something oily was impinging on my brain or senses; a foul corruption that raised my hackles and had me clenching my fists and reaching for my power.
A dark shadow eclipsed the bright sun, even though there were no clouds in the sky. I looked up but there was nothing – just a gray sun for a moment, and then everything was back to it's normal self.
There. Whatever it was, it was to the right of me. I got up and started walking, working the kink out of my ankle. Hoshi was gone, I just caught a glimpse of his furry butt as it vanished behind a tree away from the demon-alien or whatever it was, the little fink.
My steps frosted the grass as I headed towards my destiny; I hoped it wouldn't die, that would be awkward to explain. There was probably a 'stay off the grass' sign somewhere, and couldn't footprints be used to ID people? Screams caused me to pick up the pace, and soon I was darting among the trees and small bits of tinkling ice.
I came upon a nice clearing before a duck pond; the water was calm and a brilliant blue, but the ducks were absent and the park benches were empty. They were empty because the people that normally filled them to feed the ducks were running for their lives.
It was tall, perhaps seven feet, and inky black. It was shaped like a man, if a man were made of a black hole; it looked like a mobile, man-shaped hole stretching and contorting jerkily to move.
For all it's cartoony appearance, it was leaving great gouges in the earth as it lunged forward, and two people were down and bleeding already.
I made with the ice, cutting it off from the latest target of choice (an old woman that looked to be homeless, still carrying a ratty paper sack filled with bread). It slammed into the wall, so it had substance.
The wall cracked where it impacted, so it had both mass and momentum.
What should I do? I could completely encase it... but then I wouldn't be able to see it. No, it was best I attack it directly, but from a distance.
The ice spikes came from the direction of the pond, slamming through the thing and pinning it to my wall. That didn't seem to inconvenience it very much – it just turned it's now very sharp fingers and hands onto the wall, shredding it with terrifying ease.
I doubled down, trapping the limbs, but that didn't stop it either; it simply shrank them and sucked them back into itself, even as I kept the pressure on. It turned to look at me and then I was on the ground with my head pillowed on a tree.
Right. So it had some sort of distance attack too; staying still was a bad idea.
Luckily I hadn't lost consciousness; the thing was rapidly pulling or moving itself free. Something was wrong in how it moved and it was hard to tell. I summoned ice in front of me as I pulled myself up, a large block between us, and was rewarded with seeing it shatter in a line to me.
I dodged, throwing myself out of the way as whatever the attack was nailed the tree; hardened air?
Another block, this time anvil sized, conjured above its head. I let it go and it squashed the thing a good foot into the ground. Spikes of ice as it started to flow around the block served to keep it from escaping.
It's movement grew more frenzied, more desperate as the seconds passed. I was required to keep stabbing it down. I sincerely hoped it didn't feel pain. It was silent through the entire process.
Finally, it stopped trying to move, and there was an audible pop; much like a bubble blown out of chewing gum finally collapsing. That was when I knew.
“Quickly, make an igloo around it, and hold onto it.” Hoshiko said from beside me.
I didn't have time to chew him out; I was already doing it, as the pull from what could only be a very small black hole tested it's new bonds immediately. It had already snagged some matter from the ground, and any more might cause it to go critical mass on us all. I doubted the Earth was in immediate danger from it, but the city certainly was.
The sun dimmed again, and area around my ice started to blacken.
That was how it was using force; it had simply been letting the energy escape from itself in a specific direction. It had actually been a mobile, contained black hole. Luckily enough, my control of ice could defy physics; I grit my teeth and held on, refusing to let any more air or dirt come in contact, keeping as many layers of ice as I could between the hole and everything else. The pressure exerted was enormous, and I wasn't sure if the spots in my eyes were from the hole or my head injury or the stress.
A minute or an eternity later, the pressure eased, so quickly my ice almost flew away; stopping it was a near thing. The hole, something that had never been very big in the first place, had burned itself out for lack of fuel.
I collapsed back into the grass with a groan. Hoshiko sat himself against my shoulder. “Well done, Isolde.”
“Why didn't you tell me these things were black holes? That was dangerous!”
“Because they aren't.” he replied. “They... differ. The next one might be more dangerous, or it might be less. Either way, it will be different. But you did very well, and in so doing completely justified my choice.”
Jerk of an animal. “Well, goodie for you.”
“I think we should leave. Based on my study of your culture, your planet's authorities will be en-route to deal with the threat posed by someone attacking the park. It would be best if they not find us here.”
“Couldn't agree more, but I really don't think I can move a step.”
The circle appeared under me, and I sank into it with a yelp.
--Interface ports disengaged.--
--Boot up sequence initialized.--
What?
--Logic kernel initialized--
--Operating system RHP Linux version 1.0.0--
What's going on? Why is it so dark? Why can't I move? Why are there voices in my head? Was I dead?
Who was I?
--Memory available: 10737418240000, Memory free: 53770981691834.--
--Scanning for external devices...Done.--
--File system not found: Creating unified file system.--
Hell sounds like a computer system.
--Configuring Local Hard disk...Done.--
--Processor 0 is Intel FE (Hastur) 12,000Mhz, 8,000KB cache.--
--FE [102]: interfacing with FE driver 1.1.2 and FE bios 1.2.--
--FE power management and external device functions enabled.--
--External network D11 found.--
--External network D11 accessed.--
--Autoconfiguring devices.--
The deep, mellifluous voice faded into the background as something faded in. An image of a ceiling, rough white tile. cheaply made, and much more beautiful than the darkness I came from. I found that the view could move at will, and looked around. the room I was in was some sort of cyber punk nightmare; machines, pipes, hoses, strange dials and beeping noises...and was that a magnetic tape memory computer?
Hey I could hear!
Hey I could move!
Turning my head revealed more of the strange room I was in, which only confused me more. Soon however my eyes locked on a man just beginning to lean down, concern etched on his tired features. He was an older man, in his 50's with dark brown hair going grey at the temples and laugh lines around his eyes, currently relaxed. He had a strong jaw and seemed to loom large over where I lay, but didn't seem threatening in the least.
"Hello, good morning, are you in there?"
His voice was deep and clear, like a mountain fed stream washing over the soul.
--Loading language kernel.--
--English recognized.--
--Initializing voice protocols.--
"Um, hello? Who are you? Where am I? Who am I?"
Even as out of it as I was, I managed to catch the brief but intense crestfallen look as it shuffled onto then off his face. His smile came out again like a miniature sun parting clouds.
"Too much to hope for I guess." He muttered, helping me to sit up. I was sure he was muttering yet I heard him clearly.My body felt strangely heavy.
"Do you remember anything at all?"
He asked, in a voice I absently noted as 79.2 decibels. Protocol subroutine 2 suggested I respond within similar ranges. Just then something else caught my attention. Namely the sizable protrusions on my chest. I reached my tiny hands up to them, and noted they both gave to pressure. I could feel they were a part of me.
"Um...I remember being male. But clearly, these are female sexual characteristics?"
"Uh, heh heh heh heh."
His laughter was analyzed as the nervous, evasive, with a 62% chance of being a defense mechanism towards uncomfortable subject matter. But I didn't need the scrolling display in my left eye telling me that. Despite that he was sporting a broad grin.
"Sorry about that, It was the only way to save you."
"Save me from what?"
I asked as he gently removed my hands from my chest, guiding me to my feet.
"Death. I wanted you to live. Here we are."
Here was a mirror. in it I saw the strange man behind a young lady, standing at 1.6256 meters and weighing 113.48 kilograms. She had flawless almost translucent skin, dark blue hair down to her thighs, and a medium build for her height. Asiatic features combined in a way determined to be pleasing to 89.462% of all males, at least those that preferred such a nationality. Her eyes were a soft but dark brown, in which I could detect flashes of green.
I was also mistaken; measurements taken of the reflection proved her bust was exactly average for a female of her height. Her waist was 2 cm smaller, and hips were 1cm wider than the average. She was dressed in of all things, one of those Japanese sailor uniforms comprised of a white blouse with a red bow in front, a teal skirt reaching to mid thigh with a matching jacket.
A hesitant left handed reach and my foreign hand tapped the glass; she did also. She was me....
--Warning, memory corruption detected, cycles allocated to data retrieval.--
I shook my head violently, hair whipping everything close.
"There is a computer in my head! It keeps saying things all the time!"
"Calmly, you'll have to get used to it, it comes with the body. what did it say?"
"It said it detected memory corruption, and was allocating cycles to data retrieval."
I had no problem remembering the messages...all of them, from the start of this insanity till now.
Well that isn't bad. It means the processor in your head is working on your memory problems. Hmm, compiling seems to be taking it ages...."
"Why is there a processor in my head?"
"Because that body isn't human. Can you walk?"
I nodded, recalling the mechanics involved in bipedal motion.
"Come with me, I'll show you."
what else could I do? I went.
He took me to the back of the room, where the other odors present were nearly completely overpowered by the smell of cooked meat. He pulled the sheet off what appeared to be a type of incubator, revealing a body. The torso was charred, the limbs were missing, and the face was ground chuck. The skull was opened, and the brain missing. The conclusion was obvious.
"The body you're in now, is the only one I had available; as you can see there was no way I could salvage this one."
I felt sick, but it seemed far away. Protocol prompted me to nod, so I did.
"What happened to me?"
"Direct hit from a mark 2 plasma ejector."
Well the evidence at hand was certainly consistent with the body in front of me being hit with a large round of superheated plasma... All melted. It had to have been a torso shot, with between a 4 to 6 megawatt output....
"Do you remember your name?"
That stopped my weapon analysis.
"No, nor do I know yours."
"Ahh, sorry, how rude of me. My name is Thadeus Hastur Langford, I am a scientist and gentleman adventurer. As for your former name, I have no idea, as your identification and finger prints were destroyed. There is simply no way to identify the old you. Well other than DNA, but without an idea of where to look, that is a shot in the dark."
The name sparked some sort of vague recollection. I knew it from somewhere.
"Therefore your new name is Kaname Ningyo."
I took note of the name and filed it away under unit name, filing it in my directory properly according to the Japanese method.
--Ningyo, Kaname.--
"Is there a way I could prevail upon you to create a male body for my use? And possibly remove this processor? Insanity is a likely result of it's continued operation."
I remembered that to date and the best of my knowledge there had never been an instance of a successful full conversion
cyborg. That would make me the first. I tried to use the internet access I had detected earlier, only to find that It was
encrypted, and I wasn't allowed outside access.
"Um, well...I can try, but the processor is wired directly into your brain. Your lungs were ruined, and a small amount of
brain damage was unavoidable. The processor mimics several functions currently that your brain used to perform, but as yet,
cannot. It may never be able to do those functions again."
He suddenly stopped and turned, motioning me back to the center of the room, where the slab I had lain on was located.
"As for the body, well, the procedure to transplant your brain has never been done successfully before. This is the first time it's worked. I could easily place the head on another body, but taking your brain out of that head would probably prove fatal. And it's a female model's head. I can promise I'll try."
Not knowing what else to do, I cycled through the list of available responses.
"Thank you doctor."
Protocol number 4 prompted a deep bow.
"Please lie back Kaname. I'd like to test your nerve connections."
"Of course doctor."
I was startled by a connection made near the base of my skull. I reached back to find a thick series of cables sticking from the slab, plugged directly into me. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was disconcerting.
"Sorry, I should have warned you about the umbilical. It will give me the information on your senses I'm testing for. Please be at ease."
He vanished behind a console, and from the sound started pressing buttons. Each time he did, I sensed something. A little toe here, a smell of cheese there, the sound of a blue jay....Not needing to respond, I devoted more cycles to memory recompiling, Somehow. I still couldn't access more than the local network.
"Alright Kaname, all the connections are stable and working. Your sensory associations are mostly intact; this is a very good thing."
"Why so doctor?"
"Well it means the damage to your brain is relatively minor. However your power reserves are low. I never intended to activate this body so soon, and thus didn't have much time to charge the batteries. You'll have to enter sleep mode."
I pondered this for a moment. Sleep mode would turn all external stimuli off, much like how I had woken up. but prompting revealed that my power supply was at 22.3% and dropping. Current usage indicated I had an estimated four hours left.
"I have four hours of power left?"
"Yes but activating you and letting you drain the battery before it's fully charged ruins it's life. I had no choice but to activate your body in order to save you, but the battery is expensive, and I don't as yet have another."
"Alright doctor."
I laid back before being prompted to add:
"Good night."
"Good night Kaname."
*************************************************************
He made sure 'Kaname' was in sleep mode, checking the glow around the umbilical socket. Sure he could no longer keep his
shouts of joy contained.
she had not used a unit number to identify herself, instead using I. She had used her body much as a human would, moving
fluidly as opposed to moving one servo at a time, which even when done in micro second pulses, made for unconvincing motion when compared to biological movement. None of that assembly line machine style movement for her, or even worse, that Japanese kiddie robot movement that didn't even use feet properly.
He was initially sure it had failed, simply because at first 'Kaname' had acted like a typical unit, asking the usual questions and moving woodenly. But he had been convinced by her behavior immediately after; it had worked.
Those fools in charge of the league could eat their hearts out! Dr. Adlevo, that hack, would be so jealous! Finally the recognition he deserved!
But first, he had to ensure that his benefactor recovered as best as he was able. While it would be quite impossible to
accommodate her requests, as her form was far too custom a job to replicate, he had no doubt she would get used to it eventually. The real concern was her mind. How much of her memory could be recovered? How much of what now made her unique? She hadn't objected about being given a unit designation, and that was troubling. It proved that the basic operating system governing the unit had more than a little influence on her.
He would just have to make sure the operating system did not take precedence, and only covered the holes in her own behavior. But first he had to work out how. He could finally prove what a genius he was to all the world...if he didn't screw it up.
*************************************************************************************************
It was cold. I pulled my wool coat tighter in a futile attempt to keep the glacial wind gusts out, and kept walking. I needed to hit the bank before it closed or I'd never be able to pay that gas bill, and my heat would be shut off. And that would be...bad. This winter was proving to be one for the books.
With the wind howling and snow blowing, it took me far too long to notice what I was hearing and seeing ahead. The flashes of light and muffled explosions impinged on my consciousness soon enough however, and I spent a good amount of time cursing. Ever since the rise of super science in the 30's, every two bit yahoo with the right genes was making super soldiers, killer robots, death rays, and other such crap.
And the normal populace kept getting stuck in the middle while they tried to prove who the biggest child in the schoolyard was. Sure such people were rare, and normally snapped up by governments as soon as they could show any shred of talent. But every few years you'd hear about one going AWOL or turning super villain. Which was probably what was happening right in front of me, if the half fried robot stalking the old guy that was trying to crawl away, bleeding.
The robot was human looking, an almost perfect android marred only by the fact that it was smoking and half its skin was burned away. It kept trying to raise a plasma arm which couldn't seem to move up past 30 degrees, and so it stalked the old guy, who seemed pretty calm considering his upcoming end.
I sighed and started forward; I couldn't let a robot shoot a human in cold blood; maybe I could distract it somehow. It
didn't seem too dangerous without it's weapon moving. If the other guy could stand, he could probably walk away. Maybe I could carry him out....
(tbc)
--Interface ports disengaged.--
--Exiting sleep mode.--
--Battery charge 100%--
Blinking I discovered I could move again. Sleep mode, huh? It seemed more like death. If not for that...dream? Fragment of memory? I would have thought I had died. The room was dark, with only small lights here and there winking in the gloom.
--Nightvision activated--
Suddenly I could see clearly in the room through a green tint. The previously tiny lights were veritable suns now, and I squinted before I realized I didn't need to. there was no pain from the brightness. a small audible click and the lights became more dim as I looked at them, the light being filtered somehow so I could make out details.
"Doctor?"
No answer.
--Query internal chronometer--
--Time 03:40 CST--
Of course, at nearly 4am, he should be asleep. I had the full run of the place. Time to snoop. The first thing I went for was the local paper, the Tribune, scattered messily over two consoles. The date was yesterday, and the headline was 'Daring daylight bank robbery by super scientist leaves 13 dead.'
Typical standard fare, an unknown member of the gifted had decided to make an unscheduled withdrawal from a branch office of first national, sending a full squad of military grade robots to peel the safe and rob the place. The standard bank drones were no match for the military grade machines, being outnumbered and outgunned, but the police had been tipped off somehow. Which meant
that lying in wait were two full squads of national guard bots. Que the slaughter, the criminal gets away in the confusion.
The most important part of the article was 'names of the victims withheld pending notification of next of kin'. If only it were that easy, sigh. I found a trash can and threw the paper away, incidentally cleaning a few other tables and consoles on my way. I didn't hear the voice in my head say anything about it, so I figured it must have come from my actual brain; OCD or something.
The computers were still on, displaying schematics of various robots or machines (once I woke them from sleep by the time honored tradition of jiggling their mouse). I recognized one as the one from my dream-memory. It's designation was the 'A.D. 1400-b'. A pretty obvious tool of war, not an espionage, housekeeping or bodyguard model. Judging by external appearance alone, it was
a 20-30 year old design, easily available by now to rich people and third world countries, and therefore well behind sota, or state of the art.
Just the kind of thing a gifted bank robber might have.
Not all gifted were made equally. The first ones were all super scientists that started popping up around the mid 20's, building the better death ray. they were rare but still managed a significant presence in world war 2, building the first super soldiers, rockets, robotic death machines and super tanks. Hitler, who had chased many of them out of country in the 30's, (he deemed them 'impure') never really knew what hit him, at least once America got involved with their resources.
Once the war was over, a type of cold war settled in, with America and Russia (and to a lesser extent other countries) snapping up the increasing numbers of gifted and their experiments, the aforementioned super soldiers, robots, and other miscellaneous crap. Russia of course lost that and fragmented, as they couldn't keep up with American production; Currently China is the only other country in the running for super power status.
But not all gifted were created equally...some were smarter than others, and this doctor who implanted my brain looked like one of the smarter ones. Like maybe top 5 in the world smart.
--Query Model--
--THL Hastur all purpose model 851--
--Software Kernel 1.0.0--
--Language Kernel 6.2--
--FE driver 1.1.2--
Whoa, got to watch that. One stray thought as to my own model number and I had an answer. Alright, now to use what I knew of computer speak to translate it. The Hastur all purpose...that was the chassis model. The 8 meant series 8, as in there were 7 other chassis types made before mine...the 5 meant modified, as a standard model would be an 800. So what did the 1 mean? Custom?
If this was a custom body, it'd mean it was built on consignment to conform to a specific customer's wishes.
I'd heard of such things, they were usually sex toys. The doc had better not of put me in such a body, no jury in the world would convict me of his murder.
The more esoteric stuff displayed around I couldn't make heads or tails of, not being one of the gifted myself. Of my other body, there was no sign. There was one room blocked by a large metal door, either steel or something more exotic, which was locked. The building looked to be one of any number of down and out warehouses of ancient make, all crumbling brick and leaded
single pane glass. I could smell odors which I associated with water. I assumed a large body of it was outside the windows, and looked out to confirm it.
Lake Michigan unless I missed my guess, which put us somewhere on the waterfront. At least I hoped it was; I could be at any of the lakes, but I felt that I looked at lake Michigan often. That it was a part of home. Did I live near the water? I still couldn't remember much.
I knew I worked with computers though, somehow. I had a recollection of games played in the past. Maybe I was a game designer or programmer?
I shook my head.
The lights came on with a loud clack.
--Nightvision disengaged--
I whirled to see the doctor standing there as the green fled, having just come out of one of the doors I'd meant to try when I had gotten distracted. I could see a bed behind him before he shut that door. He waved halfheartedly to me as he shambled to the coffee maker.
He looked like death warmed over.
"Rough night doctor?"
He blearily tried to stare me down. I shrugged.
"It's been a rough two days, that was the first sleep I've had in about that long. How long have you been awake?"
--Query internal chronometer--
--Time 6:00 CST--
--Time elapsed since last sleep session 2:20:37--
I blinked.
"Two hours and twenty minutes roughly."
"Battery status?"
--Query battery charge--
--Battery charge 95.4%--
"Just over 95%. Is that good for that amount of time?"
"Not really good or bad, actually. Use is a little high, but you're likely still um, recompiling."
--Data retrieval 42%--
Damn, this was going to get annoying. Was any stray thought or phrase from someone else going to bring out that stupid processor?
"Forty two percent doctor."
"Good, good. considering the amount of data that actually lies in the human brain, that is pretty good progress."
Wait a minute.
"So wait, this processor is assigning a file address to all my memories? That's why I cant remember anything?"
"That is likely correct."
He poured himself a cup of the now freshly brewed coffee and headed to another door while I pondered how I could possibly have worked that out. I had to have been a programmer of some sort. I followed him to find a rather dingy and run down kitchen. Doctor Langford was currently burying his face in a day old (I hoped it was only a day old) powdered doughnut.
"I'll try and figure out who you are today since you seem stable. It will be hard with no picture, ID, or fingerprints. I do have some DNA of course, and I'll be typing it and running through various agencies in hope of a match but it may take awhile. I would suggest you stay nearby where I can monitor you in case anything goes wrong, but I won't insist."
"I'm fine with possibly staying close, but I don't see myself staying cooped up in here for long. By the way do I need to eat or drink? I mean, I don't have much biological matter, but it'll need some nutrition. I breathe and I assume you have blood pumping somehow...."
"Yes yes, of course I've covered all that, you've no need to worry. While you can eat, you don't strictly speaking need to. The umbilical pumps the nutrients you need into a reservoir which feeds your brain. You haven't died so I must have done something right, no?"
His irritation was real and immediate. His face was flushed, heartbeat elevated, body language showing the warning signs of rage just that quickly. What had I said? It took nearly .004 seconds for me to figure it out.
I'd questioned his work, of course he'd be angry. Though the level of anger indicated that he suffered from triple S, or super scientist syndrome...a rage brought on when someone else impugned their work, or implied they were stupid. Perhaps he got that often? I'd heard the community wasn't exactly nice to failures.
Now where had I heard that?
"I'm sorry doctor. I merely had the idea suddenly and blurted it out. I didn't mean to imply anything. I'm just worried...this is my life after all."
His gaze softened and he calmed.
"You're right, I'm sorry too. I forgot for a moment how personally invested you are."
"So um, about that new body...."
"I'll get started on it today; just need to perform a few errands first."
"Oh? Like what? Can I help?"
"Just need to get a few of my other robots here to assist, and have some parts shipped. You caught me at a bad time, from an infrastructure perspective."
Was that a smirk? I answered it in kind.
"Well I'll try to do better next time."
"Let's hope you do. Did you want some coffee?"
He asked, tipping the carafe in my direction.
"No thanks, if I don't need it you should get it; after all you look like you need it all. Think I'll go for a walk."
"Sure, just try not to get mugged. The neighborhood isn't the best, but it's all city zoning allows me to have."
"I'll be careful."
I unlocked the door and walked out to enjoy the air.
**********************************************************************************************
Kaname answered when conversing, assuming even when not looking at him, that he was talking about her. Kaname smiled, laughed, frowned, and looked tense...naturally. no hesitation in the facial servos, no hesitation in the display at all. Kaname cleaned and opened doors with less deliberation in her movements than yesterday. Anyone else would need a full body scan to determine what she was, and that only meant one thing.
He was SUCH a genius!
Her muscle memory was linking perfectly to the servos, moving them without conscious thought. she was making past associations to food and drink (no way could he fail to notice her rather longing look at his coffee, no matter how out of it he was). And most importantly she was reasoning, complete with those troubling leaps in logic that could never be programmed. She had deduced why he was angry as quickly as his peers would have.
In short, she acted perfectly human.
It was enough to make him feel guilty...almost.
He still couldn't wait to rub it in the society's collective noses, The bastards. First things first though. He texted his other hidden lair in a predetermined code, then settled in to read the text log of commands Kaname was generating. He knew it was working, but he needed to try and figure out how.
************************************************************************************************
The waterfront was mostly deserted, with warehouses of varying ages placed side by side, shipping containers packed ground to sky, and trucks picking up or dropping off containers in a dizzying patternless chaos. There was a small wharf at the edge of my visual range, but no beach in any direction. Just a steep rock filled drop-off.
I didn't let that deter me however, there was a road that ran the length of the coast with a sidewalk beside it. I walked along it, listening to the gulls and taking in the air. I realized it was cold, seeing everyone bundled up. I was still dressed in the stupid cosplay outfit, and stood out.
But I could actually feel the cold leeching warmth from my skin, which was a plus. The closer this body behaved to my biological one, the less the chance I would go stark raving nuts. I don't know how I know that, but I do, and I won't question it.
--Warning! Adverse temperatures detected. Continued unit heating to current temperatures will result in increased power drain.
Continue heating? Y/N--
Hmm, well what was the lowest temperature I could operate at?
--Query operational temperature extremes--
--Core temperatures: low 0 Celsius. High 66 Celsius.--
I mentally turned my heating off; I could 'see' my own internal temperature gauge, and it was well above 80 degrees. furthermore I knew somehow that I would be warned if I were reaching unsafe temperature levels.
Save for the temperature, it was a beautiful morning. Sunny, with few clouds, and the heat like a gentle caress rather than a slap to the face. A small breeze (5 to 7 mph) from the east, frothing up the water a bit. A few hardy gulls were lazing around in the sky, looking for garbage. I took advantage of a small park like viewing area to watch the boat traffic.
I'm not sure how long I watched....
--Query internal chronometer--
--Time 09:26:03--
--Elapsed time 2 hours 25 minutes 26 seconds--
Ahem! AS I WAS SAYING, I wasn't sure how long I stood there watching, leaning against the railing, Until I saw something rather unusual. A blonde female in her 20's leading a veritable brigade of bundled people behind her. She was dressed in black denim jeans, a white blouse and a lab coat, and nothing else. Behind her were 14 people bundled up like Eskimos, though I wasn't sure if the bulk was provided by their clothes or themselves. Each one was carrying a bulky bag or piece of equipment.
The most likely projected route had them going to the doc's place.
Following them proved easy, they didn't so much as glance in any direction but forward. The woman in front led the procession right into the doc's warehouse like a mother duck leading ducklings, through one of the larger doors. I moved to the door I'd come out of earlier, and eased it open as quietly as I could.
Which of course means it made enough noise to wake the dead.
the doc and his...assistant? were stopped in gestures that looked like they had been arguing, trapped gesticulating at each other like flies in amber. The Eskimos in my visual range were free of half their clothes, revealing silvered steel plated humanoid robots that were rather plain looking. The weapons they were pointing (high yield co-axial pulse lasers) stifled any thoughts of me insulting their lack of panache. I closed the door with my foot, and raised my hands.
"Um, hi? Doc can you call them off?"
"No need."
They all lowered their weapons a nano second later, acting for all the world as if I'd ceased to exist.
"Huh. Why did they stop?"
"They recognized your IFF as belonging to me, as they do."
Identification friend or foe, huh? that meant I had a chip broadcasting. Of course I had a chip broadcasting.
--Query location IFF transmitter--
A wire frame image of my body sprang to life in my mind's eye, showing it buried under where my stomach would be were I human.
Good to know I guess.
--Query unit and model number--
Without meaning to I had just pinged the identification of all robots within my visual range. The answers poured in, the
display made an odd kind of sense. My left and right eye displayed different units.
--Model number 400 unit number 42-- --Model number 400 unit number 49--
--Model number 400 unit number 58-- --Model number 400 unit number 83--
--Model number 400 unit number 59-- --Model number 400 unit number 64--
--Model number 400 unit number 62-- --Model number 400 unit number 74--
--Model number 400 unit number 63-- --Model number 400 unit number 85--
--Model number 400 unit number 67--
--Model number 950 unit Sara Merit--
The last was a surprise. the mama duck was a robot herself, a fairly sophisticated android. I took the opportunity to
approach.
"Doctor Langford, Unit Kaname just employed her IFF devices."
A bit closer, the facade of her sophistication began to crack a bit. Her skin looked a bit off, her movements stiff and her face and gestures tried to display emotion, but seemed to be aiming for the wrong ones. Unless anger was what she wanted?
"Indeed Sara, this does not surprise me."
"But, her response indicated surprise in knowing she had an IFF, yet she employed the device .35 seconds before an 800 series would be able to."
"That's because she is human where it counts Sara. How are the preparations?"
"The portable manufacturing devices are being reconstructed here as per orders, estimated time to completion 2 hours 37 minutes.
"good, now all I'll need are the materials."
I interrupted while staring at Sara as nonchalantly as possible. She didn't seem to mind.
"So whats going on?"
"These are the devices for constructing a male body for you. I only need some raw and processed materials to begin. Sara is my assistant at another lab, and these other units are muscle. Very old, but still usable and more importantly all I have available at the moment. My real lab is a country away, and I've been working on a shoe string budget."
"You don't have a human assistant? No offense Sara."
"No offense taken unit Kaname."
Doc looked a bit irritated for some reason...but he wasn't looking at me, so I let it go.
"I do, but she's busy at the moment gathering a few of those harder to find materials, as well as running down leads on who you are. Sara, 2 coffee's please."
"Yes Doctor Langford."
She moved away with decent speed to the kitchen.
"Sara is an amazing result of technology, few are better than her, but she has her limits."
I could think of several androids that were at least slightly better for some reason, but the spirit of what the doc said was correct. Most androids were easily discernible from humans, as were most cyborgs. most of either stripe were also downright stupid, either taking to long to process data (androids) or being those who regularly fail IQ tests (cyborgs).
The first because they lacked the processing power of humans, and the second because they lacked the common sense of humans. Except now, all unwilling, I had joined the latter group in spectacular fashion.
Sara came back with coffee, place a cup in front of each of us. the doc caught my surprise.
"Sara can't drink I'm afraid. she wasn't designed for it. Sara why don't you tidy the place up?"
"Of course doctor Langford."
I watched her go to the small closet tucked in the corner, and remove the cleaning supplies. I drank the brew and watched my
host.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
I smiled.
"On the house, was just thinking I remembered a bit of rescuing you a few days ago, or whenever it was."
"Four days ago. You saw the date on the paper."
"I did indeed, and it matches your chronometer. So when do you think you can finish the body for me?"
"Assuming all goes well, and there are no snags? Probably a few months. Realistically? Probably closer to three months. I'm sorry I can't really speed up the process."
Shaking my head cause my hair to slap me. That was annoying.
"Don't be, I wouldn't be alive if not for you. I can be patient. So how are you going to classify me to the government?"
To be legal, all androids, cyborgs, and super soldiers had to be registered with the US government upon creation or entry into the country; it allowed the bureaucracy to keep tabs on who was who. I had no idea how I knew that.
"I'm not. If you desire it, you can register yourself. I'd suggest as a partial conversion cyborg; a full conversion registration attempt will garner far too much attention for your liking, even if it succeeds."
"How so? Celebrity status?"
"And possible guinea pig status, ending in vivisection. Full conversion cyborgs are very sought after."
"I can see how that would be a problem. You'd end up in open war or kidnapped of course, your secrets stolen."
He nodded.
"But if I don't, I run the risk of getting caught in the country as an unlicensed cyborg, which might lead back to you anyway. And I would need to prove who I was, and I can't yet. So unless I get false paperwork, which would cause even more problems...."
He nodded again.
"Ugh, I hate walking around illegally!"
I sighed and relaxed back in the chair.
"I'm sorry."
I looked up to find him giving me a hangdog look, like a whipped puppy. I waved him off.
"Not your fault really, and better than the alternative."
"Sara?"
"Yes Doctor?"
"Acknowledge User Kaname Ningyo as assistant three, class 2 clearance."
"Acknowledged doctor."
I looked around to find Sara still cleaning away.
"What just happened?"
"Simple, to Sara and any other robots here, you're now an assistant of mine. They will follow all of your orders unless they conflict with mine or my other assistants."
"but why would..."
He interrupted softly.
"It might prove necessary. I went to much trouble to save you, I'll not see you troubled if I can avoid it. The life of a scientist can be hectic, so you might need the support. Like it or not, currently you are in an area of grey legality. Support of any kind should be considered a blessing."
I nodded, conceding the point.
"I'm hoping that doesn't last long."
He nodded regally in turn, conceding my point. His phone rang, interrupting whatever sage wisdom he'd opened his mouth for. He looked at the smartphone screen. I didn't recognize what type of phone it was.
"It's my assistant; if I might take this call privately?"
"sure thing, I'll just take my coffee over there."
I moved to the other side of the warehouse, watching the robots set up machines of various esoteric make. I couldn't make heads or tails out of any of the new ones either. The best I could do was recognize which were C.A.D. (computer assisted drafting)manufacturing machinery.
That told me a little bit at least.
Like they had before, the robots ignored me. I took note of what they were doing, in case I needed to construct or break down those same machines. After all, like the umbilical machine I plugged into every night, my life might depend on them.
"Alright all done, she was just calling to inform me that the DNA tests are underway. By this time tomorrow, if you're in the system anywhere, we will know."
"Really? Seems a bit fast."
He smiled.
"It is, but you're unhappy with not knowing right? I owe my savior all due diligence where I can. But now, I'd like you to do a favor for me. I'm going to be here setting this up, and I need cash. Could you go to a branch of first national and make a withdrawal for me? I'll give you all the information necessary."
Oh right, like me, he had been interrupted from his banking.
"Um, sure. But how will I get past the metal detectors? Pretty sure those will go off and I'll be arrested for being illegal?"
"Not at all. Just wear this,' He held up a rather bulky black jacket; 'and it will detect you as human. Then you simply hand the teller the envelope in the pocket. I have an account there, and that's a legal permission for you as my assistant to withdraw money from it. It also has my ID in it so they know you're working for me, and a few other odds and ends in legalese."
"So how much am I withdrawing?"
"1 million."
"A million?!?"
While I'd heard the super science business paid, I had no idea it paid that well. His tone implied that a million to him, was walking around money. Chump change.
"I'd have you get more, but it's really all you can safely carry without notice. Take the briefcase in the corner there. Ask Sara for some other clothes. I'm sure her clothes are too big for you, but you won't really have a prayer of blending in otherwise. No reason to give trigger happy police on alert from the attack a few days ago a cause to stop you, eh?"
Now that was a sentiment I agreed wholeheartedly with. I shrugged and went to see Sara. She was still cleaning, mopping the kitchen floor in this case. I didn't really see her making a dent in the grime on the old tile, but she gamely kept at it.
"Sara?"
"Yes assistant Kaname?" She didn't stop.
"I was told to borrow some clothes from you. Do you have a spare set?"
She paused a moment, stuttering a little...then started mopping again.
"I do, located in box 4, near the door. You can get them yourself of course?"
"I can, thank you. Do you mind which ones I borrow?"
"No I do not. They are all similar to my current clothing in any case."
I left her to her work and found the box with no trouble. Inside, packed neatly next to other odds and ends, were three sets of black pants and white blouses. They weren't jeans thank goodness (Sara was a good 5cm taller than I was, no way would jeans fit) and one pair even had a belt built in. I grabbed it, one of the blouses and walked into the doc's bedroom to change.
Yes, I know he's seen it all, but old habits die hard; I'm a pretty private person. Once I got the skirt of, I realized...I wasn't a barbie. I had what to all appearances was the appropriate plumbing down there.
--Sexual activity requires use of Geisha mode; enable Geisha mode? Y/N--
Oh HELL no. No no no no no. I heard the threads creak as I pulled the pants up, and eased the force down a bit changing shirts. Jacket, sneakers...as ready as I'll ever be. Grabbing the jacket and my 'clothes' (stupid costume) I presented myself before the doc.
"How do I look? Passable?"
"Passable." He agreed, giving me a twice over.
"So doc, I was changing and my head hinted that I had a 'Geisha mode'...exactly what might that be, hmm?"
My sickeningly sweet tone did nothing to put him at ease...if anything he paled, then paled further as my words sunk in.
"Your body is an all purpose model designed as a bodyguard. Of course it has one of those modes. At least mine has some class. You're designed for companionship, not simply sex. Besides, as I said before, it was the only body I had available. I didn't even have one of the 400's near me, and you were dying."
"Fair enough. I guess. Maybe I can even see how it works for the other side, assuming...?"
He picked up what I was saying readily enough.
"You'll feel everything in as real a manner as I can replicate; I am nothing if not a perfectionist. All my creations have as full a range of senses and sensation as my understanding allows."
I nodded and turned away, donning the jacket.
"We will see, for now it's time to get you your operating funds. Be back in a bit."
"Take your time if you want; enjoy yourself."
I closed the door with a wave.
(tbc)
I wasted not a moment in opening the envelope, which wasn't even sealed in any case. The first thing that met my gaze was a sheet of paper I found rather unbelievable. It was a power of attorney, made out to my new name. It looked perfectly legal. there was also a state ID made out in that name, from the state of Maryland. And a passport, listing my country of origin as Japan. A green card, signifying immigrant status.
All of it looked perfectly legal, but of course it couldn't be. He had to have had all this documentation made for the body in advance, and just now decided to get some use out of it. At least that was the only thing that made sense to me. Though why this body could need such false paperwork I didn't know. It looked good enough to satisfy a bank though.
Walking along whistling into the bitter wind seemed like the right thing to do. Other passersby bundled up as I was,
shambled along with nods and quick muttered words. The snow spit itself in random directions, wind being cut by the skyscrapers the further I moved in. the branch I was supposed to go to was a good hour away at normal walking speed. How I knew that, I didn't know... but I didn't let it bother me.
Acting like the cold affected me however - hunching over into the wind and reducing skin open to the weather - made perfect sense. I took note of all the cameras in my path, traffic ones mostly. However most businesses had cameras watching the streets as well. The quick moment of giddiness that almost had me waving to them passed, and each was noted on the three dimensional map I was unwillingly building with the help of the software in my head.
It was annoying really, but it might come in handy later. The walk was enjoyable, even in the bitter cold. It was enjoyable just being alive.
I was also happy to note that the doc hadn't sent a tail. I half expected a few of his 400's to be watching me. If they were however, I couldn't spot them. For some reason I was sure I would be able to. They didn't seem all that stealth oriented and I felt pretty confident in my ability to spot someone following me.
--Warning Unsafe core temperature imminent. Heating suggested. Heating unit on? Y/N--
Cursing I turned it on. I knew my body heat would be tested at the bank as part of the process to determine if I were human or not and didn't know if the coat would fake it. A rookie mistake. With the heater on however I felt the difference immediately. I would be warm enough to pass during a cold day with luck, it was trying to heat me up to normal human levels as fast as possible.
Exactly 22 minutes and 32 seconds later (plus or minus .02 seconds) I walked into the target branch of first national. The front doors were of course the location of the first scan, and it didn't go off. I nodded politely to the guards,unzipping the coat a little and taking my gloves and hat off. The guards waved some scanners that I didn't recognize over me, and just like that I was past the second hurdle.
The third hurdle was my identification, which was scanned while they checked to make sure my face matched. The documentation passed all the scans, which was a mild surprise. I knew they were high level forgeries, but I really expected a flag from the green card. After all those things had to be filed with ICS and the FBI anymore, something very hard to do with forgeries. My compliments to the doc's hacker pals, whoever they were.
And just like that I was through, and could freely walk to the tellers. The lines were of course small, and it was easy to be patient. I found myself somehow casing the bank, noting the various security measures in place. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which seemed a bit odd to me. But then it had been several days after the last attempted heist. Maybe less than a week at high alert is normal?
"Excuse me miss, can I help you?"
--Language protocol 04 initiated--
"Yes please, I'm here to make a withdrawal. It is rather sizable."
I passed over the paperwork involved, noting as an afterthought that my accent had changed. I now had a faint Japanese accent. Well that's interesting. It wasn't enough for me to miss the teller pale a bit and strain her smile.
"Follow me please miss Ningyo."
I was led to a back office, the office of one 'Salvatore DeSilvio, branch manager'. He was up and near the door, we shook hands and I fought back a bow with a slight pasted on smile. The protocols were more than language it seemed, regardless of what the file marker said. The teller passed the documents to the manager and stood aside.
"Please have a seat miss Ningyo."
"Thank you Mr. DeSilvio. How are you this afternoon?"
"Well, if a bit chilled. Though I trust you are more so. Would you like some tea? I have a wonderful blend of Gyokuro in the back."
Gyokuro was a form of Japanese green tea. Wonderful and slightly expensive stuff.
"That would be wonderful, Thank you Mr. DeSilvio."
He turned to the teller with no hesitation.
"Tea for our guest please Mrs. Heller."
He turned back to me as he seated himself and picked up my papers.
"So what can I do for you miss Ningyo?"
"I need to make a rather sizable withdrawal Mr. Desilvio. hopefully that will not be a problem?"
"Not at all Miss Ningyo. I just need to verify things first. A million dollar withdrawal is a hefty sum, and we of course must be thorough."
"Of course. Please do continue."
I tuned him out a bit as he started. I was fairly sure that since I'd passed the security checks it was clear sailing from here. Less than 5 minutes later (I was inspecting the paintings in the office from my seat, They were obviously Bob Ross paintings, I swear.) Mrs. Heller returned with a tray of tea and served us both (customer first of course). Catching Mr. DeSilvio's gestured dismissal she left without a word.
I sipped the tea, and it was as amazing as I had expected.
"Miss Ningyo?"
"Yes Mr. DeSilvio?"
"This all checks out. I'll be back in just a moment."
"Alright. One question though please."
He stopped and turned back, with perhaps more poker face than the occasion warranted. Odd.
"Those paintings Mr. DeSilvio... are they Bob Ross paintings?"
His grin threatened to break the porcelain mask he'd been wearing.
"Why yes Miss Ningyo, they are. I'll be right back."
He almost skipped down the hall, and I could have sworn I heard him humming. Very weird.
I stared at happy little trees until he returned 12 minutes and 41 seconds later. He held a black unmarked briefcase and closed the door behind him. I followed him to his desk where he opened the case to reveal neat stacks of 100 dollar bills. I took one stack out and fanned it, my new body making counting it that way easy. I could just take Mr. DeSilvio's word for it, but I decided not to, and checked each stack.
The amount was correct, and without a word the paperwork was sent across the desk and just as silently I signed it all, my penmanship looking surprisingly good... for some reason I expected a chicken scratch. I closed the case and looked up at him.
"The case is on the house Miss Ningyo. Please do enjoy your day."
I couldn't resist, and finished my tea before bowing.
"Thank you Mr. DeSilvio. Have a wonderful afternoon."
A guard shadowed me to the door, trying to be discrete about it. I had no more anxiety about the checks (they were designed to keep people out) and just that simply I was on the street.
It seemed a bit too easy. I don't know why I felt that way, but I did. Perhaps the bank was used to such odd requests? The withdrawal slip I'd signed said that the doc had a few hundred million deposited with that bank, so maybe there was a certain amount of cache that came with that.
I know if someone handed me 221 million to invest any way I saw fit, I'd bend over backwards to accommodate requests. Of course this also meant that I now had access to such a stash. The doc was being pretty trusting. Not that I would betray that trust.
I decided that even with this amount of money in my hands I'd not take a direct route back to the warehouse; something in me seemed to scream protests at the idea. It wasn't any programming as far as I could tell, which meant it had to be from my former life. I still had very little to go on there, but it was obvious I did more than just bag groceries or crunch numbers.
I set my sights on a dog park I knew of figuring I could skirt around it and see what was going on, as it was extremely unlikely anyone would be using it today. That would make being paranoid easy. Of course, there HAD been an attempted bank robbery. It had been foiled, but with the perpetrators still at large, a small Asian woman with a briefcase walking out of a bank could be seen as a perfect target of opportunity.
I spotted nothing out of the ordinary though. The few die hards in the park itself made me frown. Despite how cheerful the dogs looked I felt sorry for them. As for their owners, well the owners should know better. I turned away from the place with my mood going south, confidence surging.
--Query data retrieval?--
--Data retrieval 67%--
I wasn't sure, but that seemed like a good number.
--Query battery status?--
--Battery charge 71%--
That seemed even better, considering the amount of activity I had undergone so far. It would easily last me until the end of the day.
I was still a bit paranoid, but it seemed that not even the gangs or other thugs were out today. Not that I blamed them. A rather long moderately boring walk later and I was back at the warehouse. I knocked first this time, then entered. Save for the doc, I was ignored.
"Here you are doc. It went smoothly. Your pocket change."
He waved absently, making some small adjustment on what looked like steel leg bones. He had one leg framework built to the knee and parts spread before him on the workbench. It looked like a radio shack threw up, to be honest.
"Hard at work here, as you can see. Just put it on the table there. Do they still serve that wonderful coffee to their VIP's?"
"Couldn't say, they served me a green tea imported from Japan. It was very tasty."
"Hmm, interesting. I'll have to ask for some next time I go in person."
I sidled up to watch.
"Need any help?"
"Well, while you have the necessary dexterity, you don't have the necessary knowledge, so as much as I'd like to accept I'll
have to decline. If you need something to do Sara brought a laptop with several of my favorite movies loaded. Or you could read my files on said laptop to bring yourself up to speed on how I construct my robotic friends."
"Sounds like a plan, think I'll try and do both. What kind of movies do you have on it?"
"Mostly cloak and dagger things, or scientific thrillers."
Hmm, weird, I liked those kinds of movies too. Though something in me suggested that I liked to laugh at them....
"That will do, thanks doc. I'll try to get up to speed."
Sure I know he wanted me out of the way, but I wanted at least some idea of what he was doing and why. So as not to disturb the doc or his crew, I smuggled the laptop into the kitchen and fired it up. For some reason I picked the Bourne Identity. Sara was in the kitchen making dinner for the doc, but she didn't even glance my way. Not that I minded, she was a bit creepy.
It didn't take long for the snickering to start. Who knew this movie was a comedy? Cold war era bullcrap, fluffed with absurd fight choreography. Very few real elements, and far fewer screw-ups than in real life. Again, it was scary that I felt that way but I had nothing to back it, so I didn't let it worry me. By this time tomorrow I would know all the answers to my questions.
'Taken' was much better in this respect, though still a bit much.
**********************************************************************************************
Amazing, she could debate teas. I watched her acting on the bank's closed circuit security system, and she looked so
natural. From the slight pauses in bowing before shaking hands to the speech, she was perfect. I took the money out and tore
the briefcase apart. there did not seem to be a tracking device of any kind in the pockets or lining, no strange power sources in the bill stacks themselves.
I threw the money into a large paper bag and deleted the stolen security feed, terminating the internet connection before I could possibly be traced. Even now she was laughing at a movie, glee apparent in her face and movements. How had I done this? There was no way the procedure should have worked this well.
Ahh well, no time to worry about that. Ekaterina would be here tomorrow demanding her payment, and he had it. He could still salvage the situation. Time enough to settle the enigma later, I hoped. I wasn't sure my latest patron would be as
understanding as I hoped.
"Sara."
"Yes Doctor Langford?"
"Is dinner ready?"
"Yes doctor."
"Then let it sit and come help me please."
Sara started building the bone structure for the other leg. With her help it would still be several days of half sleep before the structure would be complete. After that came the hard part.
(tbc)
--Interface ports disengaged.--
--Exiting sleep mode.--
--Battery charge 100%--
I woke up on the bench, something that was both disturbing and already routine. At the end I chickened out rather than let my battery get to dangerous levels, and plugged myself in. Going to sleep was easy. Waking up however, let me know in no uncertain terms that something had changed.
--Data retrieval 100%--
I knew everything; or at least everything I would ever know about who I was and what I had been.
--Query internal chronometer--
--Time 05:34AM CST--
--Nightvision activated--
The warehouse was dark, the machines silent. The robots were either in sleep mode themselves or silently on guard. It made me wonder what the doc was afraid of; while my newfound memories pointed to the world of super science being a very cut throat place, this level of paranoia seemed extreme. But the doc was asleep, and while certain things were falling into place, it
could wait.
I was interested in feet.
Two small skeletal feet to be precise, their framework rendered in titanium or some variant, and perfectly articulated; they looked like a skeleton had been dipped in metal. Of course my own point of view was of the layman; I was quite sure that human foot bones weren't put together in quite that way, but it was very close. One was finished, one only half so. Extrapolating the time used to construct the feet and estimating from there, the framework of the male me would take at least a week of hard 14 hour shifts.
But... the feet looked a little small for a guy; add some flesh and circuitry to the frame and they might be a size 6. which was the size of my current feet. Curiouser and curiouser. Reminding myself I was lucky to be alive at all, I made some coffee and settled in to watch the sun rise. It could just be that due to expenses, I was going to be a very small guy soon.
Time for something to drink. I didn't need it of course, but it was a pleasure I wouldn't deny myself. I made coffee, taking note of how much the doc used to make his and following suit. I drank and studied schematics until, precisely at 5:45AM, Sara exited sleep mode.
"Good morning Sara."
"Good morning unit Kaname."
She bustled off into the kitchen without so much as a pause, no doubt to cook the good doctor breakfast. I shook my head; so close and yet so far. I almost offered to help - but I was busy reading the doc's files. Apparently I was at least an adequate hacker, not that I needed to be.
Who uses a password like 12345 anyway? That's the kind of password an idiot would have on their luggage, or something.
Maybe he thought it was safer cause everyone nowadays would go straight to the more complex cracking methods, without checking first. Or maybe he meant for me to get in. Either way it was all the same. The doc was a busy guy, it seemed. Several of these model designs were ones that I recognized as russian, and a few were chinese exclusives. Confirmation of sorts, of what my
memories were telling me.
Fate is a very fickle witch sometimes; she always likes to pick you up... then cut your legs out from under you.
In this case the leg sweeping started with flash bangs; the standard kind that police SWAT use for high risk entries. I lost track after bang number 6, and was already on the floor before I knew it. Around me I could hear aged robots grinding to life, then gunshots and they would fall silent. Sara was still moving around, but I had the sudden sense that she was alone.
"Doctor Thadeus Langford! This is the police! Come out with your hands up! Your bots have been disabled, and you are surrounded!"
A dizzy, disheveled looking doctor came staggered into view, his face a mask of pure horror.
"Kaname? Kaname!?!"
Interesting, hardly the reaction I'd think of, now that I remembered the reputation of the doc... though oddly in keeping with the man I've known the last couple of days.
"I'm here doc, keeping my head down."
He really needed to work on his expressions; as it was he'd never be able to play poker. Maybe it was the lack of stimulants.
"Come on out Langford, my bots have even the sewer and hidden tunnels covered. You can't escape."
It may have been just the megaphone, but that voice was weaker, reedy, and seemed filled with an unsufferable arrogance that put me on edge. It also seemed vaguely familiar.
"Dr Adlevo; that bastard."
Now there was a name I knew. But I'd worry about that later; I had to confirm some things while I could.
"So doc, the bank robbery was you?"
He nodded.
"And the bot that attacked you?"
Bots are not supposed to attack just anyone with the intent to kill; the fact that one did was a major breach of law; somehow and somewhere things were rotten. That corruption had cost me a body and a normal life.
"Dr. Adlevo's. This isn't really the time and place to explain, but he has had it in for me for a long time. You simply got in the way of his latest attempt. Now I really need to surrender before the building is blown up or something; if you'll excuse me. Don't get up or it's likely you'll be shot."
And with that he simply walked out of my sight. I heard the front door open, the wup wup wup sound of multiple helicopters hovering, and the the yells of many men. Then hurried, running footsteps.
"And there it is, being a good little girl like Langford said. Get up Kaname."
That last bit was clearly enunciated, as if I were a child. How insulting. I complied however; they did after all, have the guns.
"Well at least you didn't shoot the doc. So, what am I being charged with?"
The looks of flabbergasted surprise were priceless. Especially the one from the guy on the right; I recognized him as one of the guys working security at the bank yesterday. He had waved me on through without a second look. I was surprised to see him too, but I didn't let it show.
"Wow, she's a real piece of art, isnt she?"
"You're being charged with aiding and abeding a fugitive for a start, honey. That and we're impounding you as a device that could prove harmful to the public at large."
"You can't impound me, I'm an american citizen. As for aiding and abeding, well, you might have enough to make that stick. You need to cuff me? I'll go quietly, but I'm not sure about your procedure here."
"We need to cuff you, yes. Never can tell."
I held my hands behind my back, shook my head and tsk'd.
"Should have done it while I was still on the ground; faulty police procedure."
"Perfectionist."
The manacles they locked on to me did something... I couldn't move nearly as easily, even my legs. Everything seemed to be much heavier. Didn't affect my speech, however.
"Wow, these things suck. You'll all have to be patient, I'm going to be pretty slow here."
"No problem at all, take your time and walk to the APC over there. We seem to be short paddywagons for the gifted this morning, so you ride with us."
"So where are you taking me?"
"Told you before. The impound. The FBI and homeland security impound, where all the bad bots seized are kept."
Hmm, homeland security. This could work out yet.
"Alright, will you do me a favor?"
Odd, I'd have expected him to be more cautious.
"What do you have in mind?"
"Marc Perez works out of this field office, doesn't he?"
"Maybe."
"Well if he does, could you call him for me please, and tell him to meet us at the impound?"
"Sure I can do that. I think he'd probably be interested in you anyway."
Don't I know it. A cyborg looking like this? He'd be all over it.
I resolved to be as silent as possible for the rest of the ride; I didn't want to unwittingly hang myself volunteering information. This suited the SWAT guys just fine, I could tell. The manacles had to be electromagnetic in some way; but without seeing them I couldn't tell how they worked.
Rather shortsighted of the doc to build a state of the art body with such a weakness.
The officer in charge (who wasn't the chatty one) led me to what appeared to be a standard interrogation room; I wasn't fooled. There was no one way mirror and the walls had that subtle look that screamed 'I'm all solid steel under this cheap drywall'. That and the solid steel door with a bar lock made it obvious. There was a reinforced set of chairs and a table bolted to the floor; I took the one facing the door but farthest from it as the officer locked the door behind me.
Now we played the waiting game.
************************************************
Striding into the room, they all stopped talking. the silence was deafening. Honestly, you'd think grown men and women would outgrow acting like adolescents at a bar.
"What do we have?"
Chris Farnsworth, the lead on the SWAT team, answered smartly.
"Got Langford and the damnedest robot you ever saw. Take a look."
I looked at the video feed he directed me at. In it was a petite looking ebon haired japanese girl, appearing to be around student age.
I looked back at him, nonplussed.
"It's a sexbot. We see plenty of those, what's so unusual about one more?"
I swear, if I had a nickel for every sexbot we dismantled...
"No Marc, it's not just a sexbot. Look close; That chassis is one of Langfords' series 8s."
"What?!? No way."
I took that second look. Hard to tell with it sitting down but...
"It's too small for that. And way too lifelike. Has to be one of his newer models, at least an 11."
"You think that, but it pings back as an 8. Plus, this one knows you. Why do you think I called you in? That hot little thing asked for you by name. The time stamp places her creation at just after the attempted bank robbery."
I looked down at my hands, which were throttling my broken pen.
"Is that so? And what has Langford said?"
"Oh that is the truly interesting part; he hasn't shut up since we bagged him. He's very talkative, and the polygraph suggests he's being totally honest. And that is why you absolutely must hear his story... all of it. You see, I asked him the same thing you were just thinking about asking me."
He led me next door, into the first interrogation room, where Thadeus Hastur Langford was cooling his unshod heels.
Thadeus Hastur Langford was born an american, of new england stock. Maine, I think. He was one of the most gifted of the gifted... and one of the biggest criminals the U.S. had ever produced. In his late 40's, he worked as a young teen with our foremost brain, Dr. Silas Adlevo, building super soldier serums, weapons, and other tools of modern death. Along with the
occasional advance in medicine and oddly enough, space exploration.
Why he turned on us was one of the bigger riddles of our time; The current word was that he was jealous and angry with playing second fiddle to Adlevo. So he defected, and went to work for Russia and later China; giving communist robotics a huge boost and later filling orders for a variety of other countries, corporations, and even the very rich. The office of Gifted Affairs called him 'The merc'.
The word had filtered down from the CIA that he was again in country after 25 years away. Since he was under indictment as a traitor; with a standing warrant for his arrest, his presence in country didn't make much sense. Russia was his new home, and they watched over him jealously there. For him to be here instead of his usual haunts in Russia, China, and even the middle east meant something big. To pull a bank job, as he had tried just less than a week ago, seemed to suggest he was hurting for funding.
Luckily, with Adlevo on the case with us (The man was pushing 75, and still vigorous) staking out the banks was easily done, and while Langford had gotten away, it had eventually led to his capture. Such arrogance, to think he could get away with such crimes while we were watching. Of course the bank sting was supposed to go quietly, and rapidly devolved into a mess; we still weren't sure why, but I had a few suspicions.
So finally, we caught him, despite some sizable murphy's law action... and he was chatty. I strode right in, polygraph be damned. Things didn't work anyway, not as a lie detector. I was quite sure Langford's stress was not important. He looked up with relief and jumped right in.
"Good good, you're here. Gifted affairs or Homeland security?"
"Marc Perez, homeland security Dr. Langford. So what brought you to the states?"
his eyes caught me. Guileless, full of concern and a plea.
"Rest assured I'll tell you everything, but before that, have you seen Kaname?"
I took a shot in the dark.
"Your robot? The modified series 8 you recently activated?"
He nodded quickly.
"I haven't seen it yet, I was hoping to talk to you first."
"And are you going to be the one in charge of this case? Sole jurisdiction, no alphabet soup behind you?"
"Yep, I'm it."
"Good; whatever you do, don't tell Kaname she is an android. You'll ruin the experiment. All of you must be very careful - she believes she is a cyborg with a human brain."
I was at a loss.
"And just exactly why in the hell would that matter?"
"Because she might well be a person; she acts so life like because I mapped a human's brain, translated it, and downloaded it into her hard drive."
I found myself running my hands through my thinning hair, a nervous gesture of mine. Langford could have been describing the weather. All of a sudden a few puzzle pieces clicked into place; the person who had been missing in that botched robbery, and why I'd been asked for by name.
"what...the hell, doctor! You will burn for this, I'll see to it!"
I let him go, only after the polygraph operator pulled me off did I realize I'd been choking the life from him.
"I didn't kill him! I didn't!"
He choked out, finally seeming to understand what I thought he'd done. He found his voice and shouted.
"All I did was try to save his life, but he was too far gone! Too far gone for any amount of modern medicine! Even if he'd survived he'd had to have been made a full conversion borg, and his brain was dying! His lungs were charcoal! No one deserved that fate, to die drowning in blood!"
I let him rant till he quieted, and almost didn't catch the whisper.
" ....and he saved my life."
I sat down, realizing my friend would have done exactly that; jumped in without regard to himself. How many times had he done that in the past? I turned to the operator.
"Out. You and the peanut gallery can record, but you will promptly forget you heard or saw anything, unless I say otherwise. No one sees Kaname before I do. Got it?"
He nodded. He knew my reputation; all thier jobs were now on the line.
"Alright Doctor, start at the beginning and tell me everything."
(tbc)
The tale:
I absorbed everything without moving my head; as a veteran of such endeavors, I knew that appearances were important. Rubbernecking like a tourist inside a bank was a sure way to get singled out. I shouldn't even be taking a risk like this; as a wanted criminal in America here on a fake visa, committing what would surely be a high profile bank robbery was tantamount to
closing a cell door on myself.
But Ekaterina wanted her money NOW, and my accounts had been found (I knew it could only be Adlevo, curse that man to hell!) and frozen. Until I could set up another account I was broke.
I dare anyone to try telling a former Russian agent and current mercenary that one does not have the funds to pay them after commissioning them for a job. What if she asked for the return of the CPU she'd stolen? I couldn't hand it back, I had dismantled it in order to learn about the technical advances that had so intrigued me when I'd read about them in 'popular mechanics'. To think that normal, non gifted humans could come up with such a novel approach to processor manufacture?
Layering a multi-core processor of all things! I had simply had to know how it had been done!
I was paying for that decision now, in a most literal sense. Security had taken one look at my 'Theo Pasteur' persona and waved me right through, thankfully. My robots were in position, and none seemed the wiser. The only worrying trifle was that the banks' security 'bots were Adlevo AC12's. Not his state of the art, at all... but possibly more than a bank should have?
Last I knew the 12's were still used by the American military as border patrol and national guard backup. They haven't been frontline units since the 16's were put into production, and that was years ago. So just maybe, my information was old?
It was too late to back out now in any case, I'd already entered the bank. If I tried to leave now without doing anything I'd be stopped and questioned, at the very least. Time to take a chance. My series 7's versus Adlevo's combat series 12's would never work. When my time in front of the teller came improvisation would be key. I grabbed a deposit slip and wrote on it while the line shortened.
"Good afternoon sir."
I read the name tag of the bright almost criminally perky blonde behind the bulletproof and laser resistant glass.
"Good afternoon Rebecca. How are you this fine, if cold, day?"
I put my (scribbled so badly a doctor or pharmacist wouldn't be able to read it) deposit slip through the small slit designed for the purpose, and then fumbled most convincingly with my pockets - I was sure to try to add a touch of shock, and she seemed to buy it.
"I'm sorry Rebecca, I came here to deposit a check but I seem to have left it in my car. I'll just get out of the way, go get it, and see you again before you have a chance to miss me! Be right back."
She flashed me another smile, her teeth serving as perfect mirrors reflecting the light. She could smile up a runway so well planes could no doubt land. Too much tooth brightener perhaps?
"Excuse me sir."
Uh oh. No nonsense tone, and I'm very close to the door. That can only mean one thing. Security. I turned into the face of a police officer no less, in full uniform and tactical gear; now where had he come from? He was followed by his squad, marching out of one of the back offices. Damn, somehow the authorities had known I was coming.
"Please come with us sir."
I knew playing for time likely wouldn't work, but it never hurts to try.
"Did I do something wrong officer?"
I rotated my wrist in a predetermined manner; the code red circuit broke. My loyal troops came up through the oft overlooked floor, as planned, spouting the code phrase and firing their ion cannon into the ceiling.
"Do not resist, puny humans!"
Good the message was recieved; they would do no lasting harm to anyone, and just cover my escape. As everyone else turned to deal with the 'threat', I managed to evade the policeman's clumsy grab and make it out the door. then the firing began in earnest. My bots didn't have machine guns... but the adlevo's did. So he was playing for keeps; I wouldn't have much time.
All that loss of life was unnecessary.
I hit 1 on my phone, the signal of course, for immediate cover and evacuation. Smart phones were such a wonderful invention; you could do so much with them. The first signal for such went out with my circuit of course, but it never hurt to have an alternate plan. Unfortunately I wasn't the only one to have such.
The last thing I expected was an Adlevo AC15. Most definately military, a special forces model, looking nearer to human than my own could. Excepting of course, the built in forearm plasma cannons. It sickened me. It raised it's arms, sighting the cannons, and I could read the serial number with crystal clarity. Most cliche, but time seemed to slow.
I beat it to the draw, uncovering the port of the small taser I'd built into my winter coat, and fired. It dropped and I didn't waste time; Adlevo was really serious about killing me this time. An idle thought about what I might have done to finally push him over the edge almost made me miss the scraping sounds behind me.
The damn thing had just taken a jolt that even my own best models were not rated for. Next time I'd have to employ something else. If there was a next time. I turned, backpedalling. The taser was a one shot deal, but just maybe....
Ha, I was right; several actuators were damaged; it was limping and could not raise it's weapon arms. With just a little distance I could....
It fired as I turned to run, a near miss which sent me flying. I was pretty sure pieces of sidewalk grazed my head and leg, because when sense returned, both were bleeding. Had that been a mini missile? Surely not, not even Adlevo would dare to arm those in the middle of a city! but plasma weapons melted, not exploded....
I blinked as a piece of rubble bounced off the head of the machine, and it wobbled.
"That's right, eat concrete!"
A man older than myself (perhaps mid 50's), balding and ruddy faced stood in a classic pitcher's pose. He was fit, scarred, and seemed angry. The android turned to regard him, it's head angled akwardly. Give a choice of targets, but with the safeties regarding human life disabled in at least one case (mine). Hmm, this will not end well.
"You shouldn't have done that sir, and you should run now. This android's CPU is damaged; it will kill with no hesitation."
It was even then trying to lift it's arm to shoot me; I staggered to my feet. Another pice of sidewalk bounced off the android's head.
"Yep, sure looks like it. But it looks like it's trying to decide between us, and it can't move it's arm up very far; can you walk?"
"No sir, but I might be able to shamble or failing that, crawl very quickly. You should leave now, before it decides which one of us it wants."
I knew who it wanted; it wanted me. It had orders to kill me, I was certain. However in it's damaged state, with a 'threat' putting up resistance.... Well, I wouldn't give odds on who it decided to fire on first under these circumstances. It turned to me once again, and I shambled a bit before dizziness took it's toll and I fell.
Then our luck ran out. A third piece of aerial concrete hit the machines' arm... and unfroze the shoulder actuator. It raised the weapon to fire; I could see the inside of the barrel cowling.
And the gentleman pitcher appeared behind it, pinning it's arms to it's sides in a bear hug.
"Get up and run!"
Shocked I could only watch as the android, CPU failing, did the one thing garaunteed to remove it's attacker. It touched off it's plasma weapon at both their feet.
What was left was not pretty. In fact I hope never to see such horror again. But just in the nick of time were my secondary escorts; I kicked aside the remains of the AC15.
"Lift him."
"Lift him sir? Who do you mean?"
I winced. Human recognition software wasn't designed for this event. I pointed at the wheezing burbling mess, still somehow clinging to life.
"Lift that gently; you lift me, and let's make your best speed to the safehouse."
*****************************************************
"And now you know everything Mr. Perez. I only knew who he was after the process; quite ironic the turns of fate. I did not expect the process to work at all; but that amount of will.... That pure desire to live needed a response, you know? The only thing I could think to do was to map the brain while it lived, get as much of the information as I could, and simulate it as
best as I was able."
"But how do you even go about doing something like that?"
"Well it's been something I was working on, taking maps of the thought processes of the human brain to allow various androids to act more human; if you can get the area where motor responses and other such troubling areas are dealt with mapped properly you can translate the data into something a processor emulate, if not fully understand. The final piece of the puzzle in fact was why I came to America in the first place and...."
"Nevermind Doctor Langford, I don't really care all that much. The final step was the processor theft from intel?"
He hunched over, withdrawing.
"I will neither confirm nor deny those scandalous accusations."
"So how much of him is in her?"
"I don't know. But she already shows emotion and acts perfectly passable. She has memories of her past; I'm not certain how much but having anything at all is stunning. The mapping process succeeded beyond my wildest expectations. Past results were not as promising."
I'm certain the temperature in the room raised several degrees.
"You've done this before?"
"What? no, not like this! I wasn't ready for human trials. The events at the bank forced my hand. Otherwise I'd have had...."
"What doctor? I didn't quite hear you."
"I said, otherwise I'd have had a different body ready. That body is obviously not designed for a man."
I understood. In his own way, he'd done what he could. Not without an eye towards scientific gain, but with at least one eye on trying to return the favor he owed a dying man. A rush job, crazy technology, and insane results. Pretty typical gifted fare.
"But back to my earlier point; you cannot tell her that she isn't a cyborg. If you do tell her without determining how she will react, you run the risk of completely ruining the experiment."
The room was getting hot again. I'd have to speak about someone soon, the temperature control seemed to be on the fritz.
"And why would I care about that?"
"How would you likely react to being told you were not human? That in effect you were a soulless doll with no rights?"
A good question, and not as rhetorical as I'd like to believe.
"I...don't know. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like the idea."
Or the treatment I'd likely receive from my own government, or the random private corporate entities who would pick over my carcass in the aftermath. He saw that I got it.
"Exactly! It would ruin...the experiment. She and all others must believe that she is just a well crafted cyborg."
I must be crazy for even thinking about going along with this, but.... I could see it. He honestly cared. This insane liar and thief who was facing a death penalty for murder and aggravated assault by unmanned vehicle, along with betrayal of the United States of America...had not once talked about himself, or cutting a deal. Only his unique creation... who may or may not be my friend.
Or at the very least, might be some of my friend. A new unique individual, who might need help. I sighed thinking of the amount of favors I'd need to call in. Well no time like the present to get it started... time to see the VIP in all this.
"Alright Doctor, I get it. Say no more to anyone else, I need to go interview a cyborg."
He nodded gratefully as I left, relief flooding him. Once the door was shut I reiterated:
"You know nothing, or it's a posting in the antartic for you. Just one person dooms all of you. Provided you all stay mute, you all get the promotion of working with me on a special project. Even the stress tester."
I pinned them in place with my gaze till they all nodded, then left. Next stop was the end of the hall.
"Hello, Joe. What do you know?"
She looked up and smiled; it wasn't his smile, yet somehow it was. A nice beaming smile that lit up the face that wore it, without a hint of self-consciousness or hesitation.
"Hey Marc, how's things in Atlantis?"
So, she did know things; at least Langford wasn't lying to me. I smiled at the old joke we'd coined. Atlantis being a land that never really existed, full of high tech wonders and human harmony, was perfect for our department. It also didn't exist and was supposedly filled with the same kind of harmony - which was to say none. I mock frowned.
"It has it's good days. This isn't one of them. How about you tell me all about why I had to get called out of bed so early?"
Her demeaner switched to bashful almost before I could blink. Almost too damn cute, like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. The Joe I knew couldn't have pulled bashful off.
"Well I kinda screwed up."
I snorted.
"Do tell."
"I was walking along, minding my own business, when a bleeding guy fell in front of me. A robot, damaged somehow, was aiming at him. I had forgotten my gun, but decided to intervene anyway when the robot fired - it was cutting loose with a plasma weapon. In a public place, in the late afternoon. It was some military model in military mode. I haven't been keeping up, so
I can't tell you what kind it was."
"How do you know it was a robot?"
She rolled her eyes at me, like an exasperated teenager. Odd as the thought was, I could see Joe doing that.
"It didn't respond to verbal hails, or taunts. It also capped off with no regard to bystander safety."
So far so good, this was all information gathered earlier from witnesses.
"Go on."
"Well, I couldn't tell it was set to kill until after I'd already bounced a rock off it's head. Of course it was too late to back off then, I was a target. Then it turned to the guy again, which made me realize... Marc, whoever programmed that bot sent it to assasinate the doc. It had a few chances to get rid of me, even had me pegged as a threat, but it always went straight
for him. whatever they tell you, it was intentional."
Honesty, with earnest entreaty; she was trying to convert me, to get me to believe something.
"You recognized Langford of course?"
"I did after I realized the bot was targeting him on purpose. Who's were they? Can you tell me?"
Puzzlement.
"They were Adlevo's."
Shock; pure and undiluted. In no way faked.
"but... that makes no sense at all; Adlevo is ours, and Langford is a bottom feeder. He would have no reason to call a hit on him unless...."
"Yes, unless there was something between them he wanted to hide. I already think I know what it is, that part of this mess will be easy enough to solve. But sheesh, you..."
I sighed heavily and she looked sheepish; each emotion she showed me was something a human would under the same circumstances; it was almost what Joe would have showed.
"I can keep you out of jail by explaining you were a hostage of sorts; you'll likely end up back at your old job. Langford however, is going to jail. No way around that. If we both work really hard, we may see that he only gets life."
Resignation and determination.
"Well it has to be done Marc; I need him, hes the only one that can fix me if I break. This body is too heavily modified to be left in the care of just anyone. At least anyone who can't manage a brain transplant surgery on the fly. Besides, he and I have a deal of sorts."
"He told me; for now you might as well get used to the new you. The trial alone will take months."
"I'll see what I can do about that, I still have a few favors I can call in. But for now, I'm going to need you to get me the chair."
"The chair?"
(tbc)
The chamber was far from a dank hole with bad lightning and amazing ambiance. Instead it was one of the new kinds of Gifted strip malls, a complex buried a mile or more under a mountain in Virginia. It resembled an old wagon wheel dug into the earth, a government central core surrounded by individual labs with spoke hallways leading to them. One way out, which of course could be sealed in case of an emergency.
It reminded me of the kind of crap you see in the newer movies, the movie of the week kind. All fluorescent track lighting
and shades of white. I'd have preferred the crumbling old castle or dilapidated mansion of yesteryear, personally. Of course
my movie had become a bad movie plot anyway, so it fit after a fashion.
And of course this was the only place my loving government would, after a day of arguing thinly veiled as 'discussion',
would set up the chair.
The chair was literally a chair, but it was also the only diagnostic tool/power outlet I was capable of interfacing. Or the only one I knew I was capable of interfacing. Any attempt to use something else was most likely doomed to failure, which is why I had my best friend install it in the first place... otherwise the government would have it sitting in a warehouse gathering dust while I ran out of power and died.
Then I'd be in the warehouse, crated up gathering dust while my brain leaked out of this shell's ears. But I didn't need
to be a cynic, I had a bit of pull within the current administration. So instead of needing to worry how I was going to convert to household voltage, I got the chair, the computers it hooked up to, and even two gifted assistants to cater to my every whim... while they tried to figure out what made me tick. (Sometimes, I did tick; I could hear it, it was very
distracting!)
Before I could track down the source of the rogue ticking sound, assistant number one looked up from where he was double-
checking the welded connections to the chair, once more placed rather conspicuously in the center of a large chamber.
"Oh, hi there, I'm Herb, pleased to meet you."
A distracted wave in our general direction and he was back at work, mask down and welding a spot here, a spot there. That
was the cue the other gifted (a rather shy woman tending the computer screens hooked up to the chair, watching the feeds)
was looking for.
"Hi, my name is Laura, we're the team assigned to this rather fascinating project." She was directing her statements at Marc;
I wasn't sure what the project was, as far as I knew we just got one of the spokes in the complex wheel for my maintenance. I
also didn't like being ignored.
"Hi, I'm Kaname." I replied a trifle loudly, causing her to blink. She recovered quickly though.
"Hi, I'm Laura. The chair is almost set up. How is your battery status?"
-Query battery status-
--Battery 58%--
"Still green. Barely. So if you don't mind me asking, what is your prior experience in cyborg maintenance?"
"Well Herb and I both worked on the Fujin project, and maintained him after he went live. I acted as his operator, and Herb
was his main technician. So you can see, we are eminently qualified to work on... cyborgs."
Odd hesitation there, and it drew a stern look from Marc. Must be some hush-hush thing.
"And what happened to this 'Fujin'?"
"Oh, he retired, did his full service so we pulled the combat implants and gave him the standard prosthetics; he's a civilian
now."
Herb broke in, still wielding.
"He was a whiny gint, is what he was, always trying to whine about how stupid wars are while in one. It was getting on my last
nerve. I almost made him some hello kitty themed parts for kicks. Let him see how angsty he could be when wearing bright yellow cat arms and legs or some such."
...
....
.....
"If you ever do that to me, you'd better hope you kill me first."
I don't care how bad he was, no one should treat vets that way. Besides, he couldn't have been that bad, could he? He looked up briefly.
"Nah, I wouldn't. I'm familiar with your reputation. Besides, you look more like an Asian barbie anyway."
Asian... barbie?
"Well now I know why you're here at least. Sidelined to side projects due to a massive lack of tact. And you Laura?"
Herb replied for her.
"Well there were a few rumors that she slept her way to the top."
"Herb! That's an outrageous slander!"
"I didn't say it was true, just that the rumor was floated. She transferred in with her old college prof, then didn't transfer out
with him. Then she got stuck on the Fujin project with me. The rumor mill went crazy."
Laura slapped him on the shoulder; he didn't seem to notice or care.
Ahh well, I couldn't look the gift horse in the mouth as it were; I was lucky Marc and I had this much pull, since officially I
was retired. I just knew a bill would come due for all this though, and I doubted my old analyst job title would stick. A 'consultant' position was more likely. I'd draw the line at assassinations though, blackmailing be damned.
Marc made a rather forced subject change.
"Anyway, this is your new office. Don't forget that tag of course, you know how it works.Remember where it is; the apartment I managed to get for you is up topside and across the street. Many of the people working here and a few other places around. No, I'm not one of them, but I live in a similar place closer to mid town.
He clipped a name and security tag to my new suit jacket (bought for me last minute by Marc as my own clothes were trashed, it had a skirt... I didn't much care for it, but it wasn't like I would get cold.)
"Yeah I know how it works, without the tag I don't get in, then the cavalry gets called and runs around like chickens without heads. So, government facilities then? Why, increased security?"
"Increased discrete security. Your building actually has a senator's suite and a few state reps live there as well. The mayor is in mine. Wouldn't do to have government assets liquidated if we could have done something."
I knew better; but he was at least trying. Most people were given the choice to accept something like that in the United States. So while I was sure protecting me was a part of the equation, keeping an eye on me to make sure I wouldn't go crazy and murder random people while running around in the nude was probably an equal part. Or whatever paranoid bullcrap they had me doing in their scenario of the week.
Though it was odd that they would house me with the senator; potential threats aren't normally given easy access to targets of opportunity. So maybe they were working or more worried about the psychological angle. I'd have to wait and see if I had an escort. Marc handed me a debit card.
"That's your card, use it to buy whatever crap you need. I know you'll likely want your things from your old place, but they have to be inspected first. You know the drill. That BS will likely take a week or so. So just buy whatever replacement stuff you need in the meantime. You want me to escort you over?"
I did indeed know the drill. Certain Items I couldn't just get at the corner store, due to Bomb paranoia. That or death ray/giant robot paranoia.
"I'd prefer it, I'd like to know if I need to order new washing machines or whatever."
Not to mention I'd feel better knowing my main facilitator was nearby in case security gave me grief. That and the elevator ride gave us a chance to talk.
"I won't do wet-work Marc."
He looked uneasy.
"I know. But chances are you'll be pressed back into field work. I'm sure you've figured that out already."
I nodded.
"This body isn't designed for the rough stuff though, or so the doc told me. Try to use me in that type of role, and the government will make hypocrites of themselves."
"I'm aware; you've been out of the game too long in any case; you'll likely be given grunt work. Safe houses, building identities, that sort of thing. I wouldn't put using that analyst brain of yours to use out of the realm of possibility. Probably both, knowing how we work."
"I'm fine with that, bring it on. Work will keep me busy."
"You'll have to face it eventually, you know."
He had no idea. He really couldn't.
"Not if I can help it. Six months or so, and I get a body looking like mine back, or something close. Then I can slip back into my old life."
He shook his head, sadness like a heat haze around him as we stepped off the elevator and into the sunshine filled lobby of a normal office building, one housing one of those phone sales companies pimping some infomercial product I'd never heard of.
"We both know it's too late for that, even if the best case scenario happens."
I shut up, this place was too public for such a conversation. Besides, he was right. At least with Marc in charge of my case, I knew my wishes regarding casual assassinations would be respected.
The outdoors was every bit what the hints from inside had so tantalizingly promised; cold but bright, crisp and with a slight breeze which brought the effluvia of the city to the nostrils. Since this was one of the better sections of town, that meant only the smallest of hints of mold and decay. Which was mildly ironic, really.
The apartment building directly across from the office building we had just exited was called the Maneire ame; it was french, and fit me more than most, I felt. A good omen, I hoped. The place looked normal enough on the outside, sort of a knock off of an expensive hotel, but on the inside it was obviously fortified. The walls, while coated with tasteful paneling and accents, were just as obviously over a foot thick. The dim mood lighting in no way hid the many armed men, standing in evenly spaced alcoves on either side. Nor the bulletproof glass the staff were placed behind.
At least they made the attempt to hide the metal/chemical/explosive detector placed in the doorway.
I knew they had such a device, which was why it was mildly irksome to have one of the normally statue like army types break from his alcove and head our way, waving us to halt. I tried to hide my irritation as he waved a hand held version over me as if I were one of those old guys at an airport with a metal hip, then nodded, flowing back into his alcove as if he were molded there. The other people around went back to studiously ignoring him, and by extension, the rest of them.
Marc shook his head again, but the shroud of doom surrounding him had lessened.
"You look entirely too much like a kid pouting when you glare like that."
I was all ready to light into him with righteous indignation, approaching the front desk or not, other people or no, when he waved me off.
"Don't worry about it; he was just getting your metallurgical signature on file. Now that it is, he won't bother you again. That is, unless something is off about it next time, like you're coated in Semtex or something."
I closed my mouth. Made sense, I suppose. But getting a wand waved in my face every time I came in was only half the reason I was angry. If my best glare made me look, well, as if I were pouting... then what other expressions did I have that no longer worked for me now? Happiness? Sadness? Did it matter if people couldn't correctly tell what I was feeling?
I cast my mind back to the doc's robotic assistant; yes it mattered. It mattered greatly, in how I would be perceived by others, and how they would act on those perceptions. I really hoped I was reading too much into his statement. The alternative to overreaction was far worse.
We rode the elevator up to the 5th floor; I noted it was one of the new ones, capable of accommodating the cyborg bodyguards of the various VIP's that lived here. It of course, had the same vaguely horrid muzak most such rides have; only this one was full of not quite good renditions of the classics... as if Barry Mannilow were trying to play Chopin. For all I knew, maybe that was what it was.
The doors opened into the hall, and into the face of a small security detail inset behind more thick glass. This time it looked more than simply bulletproof. Probably was. The security detail was half a military squad, complete with a combat cyborg rather than large apish men in suits, so why wouldn't they have a full bunker? That also meant there was one on every floor of course. Probably a full squad too, likely the stairs were covered as well.
There were only ten doors per side of the elevator. This building was a rather large one. Marc reached the apartment 56, and gestured to me. I slid the key card in the lock, and it opened on the suspected full suite. The kitchen to my left was large enough to use in a cooking show, the living room was bigger than my entire apartment, and the five doors - three to the right, and two straight back - hinted at more. Nice to see my tax dollars at work, I suppose.
It was fully furnished of course, and with stuff that wouldn't look out of place in the Ritz... or the White House. I strongly doubted I'd need washing machines after all; I had the feeling there was a maid service.
"There is a maid service, isn't there."
"Yep, there is. This isn't the best suite they have, but it is one of the better ones, and the maid service is included. The worst places here are on the ground floors. If you've got appliances you want to save, they will be put into storage for you, the complex has storage units for each occupant in the basement."
"Cameras?"
"Standard operating procedure for V.I.P.S."
Which meant high definition cameras everywhere but the bathroom, where only high gain microphones were placed. The natives got uppity if the security types saw them shower. I'm not sure I cared... but then I'm not sure I didn't either. I did look completely human after all, and being not fully human might make it worse. I was a prude, but not a complete stranger to the sex-bot industry. I couldn't be, it was a prime motivation for the actions some people take after all.
The first door straight back was a bathroom with an inset tub large enough for three people to completely submerge themselves in it, marble sinks and a toilet hidden behind a screen. The second was a den or office, with a large wraparound desk and empty bookshelves. The three doors to the left of the entrance were all bedrooms, and very large ones. They were also completely furnished. The closets were larger than my old bathroom.
It was kind of surreal, really.
"So not a single; good to know I suppose."
"Well other than clothes I don't think I need anything."
I did not need to eat after all, and they had toiletries in the bathroom.
"Well that's all you then; enjoy, and I have work to do. Be sure to head back to your vault once you're done, the techs need to have their evil way with you."
"I understand, break a leg, preferably someone else's. And Marc... thank you."
He waved on his way out the door. I was pretty sure he felt just as bad as I did about me getting back into the business, but that was preferable to dead. At least, I was fairly sure. Oh well, time to shop.
Marc Perez despised lying, but it was necessary. The lie this time was sort of innocuous, at least in his line of work. A quick jog across the street. A long visual scan behind him, searching for a specific face which he did not find, and he was back into the 'Chamber'.
The elevator ride was just as slow the second time as the first.
He arrived to find Laura and Herb both hunched over a monitor in the corner with a third person, An African American of indeterminate years and constipated disposition, with enough medals on his army dress uniform to build an ironclad.
Captain Washington. How's it looking?
“Well she found most of the cameras, and removed the ones in the bathroom.”
“I did tell you that would happen. What do you think?”
He turned fully to me, and away from the screen showing the subject.
“Well, she moves like an old pro. I'd even hesitate to say she was rusty, and a bit unfamiliar with the new techniques we use. Maybe five years out of date?”
Marc nodded.
“About that; 4 to be precise. Early retirement.”
The captain stole a glance at the screen.
“Looking pretty spry for that. But then, that's the point isn't it?”
Marc nodded again. He noticed the two geeks following the conversation with their entire heads, like a fan does a tennis match.
“Well?”
“She acts human. When I was assigned to this project I had my doubts. Just 5 minutes watching her is enough for me. My team will do it's job.”
Marc turned to the geek squad.
“Your thoughts?”
Laura spoke up first.
“She's human. It's astonishing that no one has tried to program an android to think they were human before; it's such a simple idea... “
Herb shushed him with a hand over her mouth as she started off.
“Sorry sir, she doesn't know what she's saying. She's human. No way can an android be programmed with prior behaviors like that; androids often have problems with our protocols and social interaction, even the best. Kaname actually understands humor. And those expressions... I could all but hear her call me a slacker asshole in her head.”
Marc nodded and turned to Laura.
“Your opinion does not matter here. Kaname is human, got it? She doesn't need you screwing this up, and neither do we. Let slip that you have any doubt at all, and you'll find yourself in Nowhere Alaska running cold weather experiments on actuators. With generator gas shipments reduced.”
She saluted. She actually saluted me.
“Roger that boss, understood loud and clear.”
The captain chose to interrupt.
“She's leaving the apartment; any idea where she's going?”
“Well the choices are clothes shopping and here. My guess is clothes shopping, since she's wearing the only thing she owns.”
There were stars in Laura's eyes.
“Clothes... shopping?”
Herb grinned.
“And you're stuck in here with me, you wannabe fashionista.”
“But...!”
her objection ran head first into the stern face of Marc.
“Where is my psychological profile?”
“Urk.”
“Captain?”
“Team's in position and tailing her. Overwatch is up and running. Cameras are recording.”
Marc nodded as Herb switched focus back to the monitor.
“Good. If she doesn't make at least half your team, I'll be surprised.”
The captain nodded.
“Challenge accepted; standard bet rules?”
“Sure. Got to go, need to see how the terrorists are trying to sneak into the Canadian border this week. See you all later.”
Waves were exchanged, then everyone silently got back to work; Laura with a slightly pensive air about her.
…........................................................
I was being followed.
I mean, of course I was being followed; I was a government asset now, and that meant certain things.. One I spotted right off; she was dressed in winter gear like everyone else. But it didn't quite hide the military issue arctic boots, better than any civilian cold weather set.
Sloppy.
Keeping an eye on her proved it, she had no bags or packages, and drifted randomly from shop to shop; even stopping at a cooking specialty shop once when she spotted me glancing back. I doubted greatly that people window shopped for Wolfgang Puck's latest selection of cookware in twenty degree weather.
Even the hardiest shopoholic would want to be inside on a day like today. Or at the very least, in a hurry. I didn't really feel the cold unless I chose to, so I could afford to walk slowly.
Got to hand it to her though, she showed no annoyance on her face when I slowed down.
A quick little backtrack while pretending to think about a rather slim coat that was clearly not suitable for temperatures like this, (no matter how well lined with hollofil) revealed another one. A lineman, working on the power lines that crossed the city was not unusual. One that didn't know how to actually use his lineman's tool and instead was instead fumbling around with it in cold like this was.
A search ahead of me revealed no one I could readily identify, and as the lineman went out of sight, the mystery shopper dropped back too. So it was shifts, but not having anyone in front of me was unusual. It would mean I wasn't properly boxed in. Which meant I could assume someone was there, even if I couldn't see them.
The next block behind me was a tag team; a married couple that looked perfectly normal, both in their late 20's, both chatting loudly enough for me to hear, though far back that I couldn't make anything out. The husband carrying packages, while the wife argued or cajoled by turns, presumably about where to go next.
All perfectly natural except for the bulge that just had to be a holdout .32 of some kind, in an ankle holster that the wife's pants could not quite conceal. In a state where conceal and carry was illegal, unless you were law enforcement or a government agent of some kind.
I probably wouldn't have picked it up without my computerized brain comparing the silhouette subconsciously. At least it didn't break into sirens or ping a warning or something. That would have been annoying.
In a way I was touched that I rated a full team. Usually an agent like myself got one or two bodyguards and that was it. They had to be ours; even if other governments knew of me by now (something I highly doubted) they wouldn't know where I was quickly enough to put together such a perfectly appearing team in order to track me.
I wouldn't have to worry about that for another say... two days. Russia would have assets in place by that time for sure, and China wouldn't be far behind. Japan likely already had an agent around looking for me; the good doctor's client was Japanese (the only thing I knew about him) and it was a fair bet that at least one agent would be working that angle.
My gut told me so.
I was pretty glad I had a gut, all told. It told me I was still human, for all the metal involved. No robot was capable of making the intuitive leaps I could. Even if my gut was no longer in my gut.
Hmm.
There was a flaw in my plan. I had only myself to carry everything. No way could I do that; while I was sure I was strong enough, there was the matter of bulk. So what to do?
Answer: what everyone did when on the government payroll and needed to deal with a real world problem; throw money at it. I really hope the tax payers wouldn't be too pissed. Because it was time to use my new card to go to the boutique route as opposed to the mall route. Boutiques would deliver.
They had better quality clothes anyway; if I was going to hobnob I'd likely have to give up my comfy jeans and t-shirt lifestyle. The first shops weren't really that far from where I was, so I kept walking.
--Query--
--Best shops for clothing in immediate vicinity?--
A 3D map unfolded in my head, red glowing pins stuck at various points. I took a moment to familiarize myself with it, noting the names, then willed it away. I knew I could recall it at any time.
I started at Saks.
At Saks I dealt with a matronly like middle manager, picking out styles, a few of which would have to be made to my measurements. But wonder of wonders, they did have a variety of things to fit me. I guess they did have tiny Asian chicks shop here often enough. I left my address and moved on after an hour. Being able to scan the clothes and know at a glance that they would fit me perfectly was a help.
The next places I needed a cab for; so I hailed one. It took me less than a minute to get one, which was sort of unusual.
A few shops later, I ended at Cerato; having a similar shopping experience there as at Saks. Only after I was done did it occur to me that I somehow knew all the best and trendy shops around. How had that happened, exactly?
Where did the map even come from?
--Query--
--Internet Protocols active--
--search history: Google maps--
Oh cool, I had accessed the internet wirelessly, and checked Google maps. My network interface card had somehow queried an address and went online in order to answer my question. I hadn't even know the darn thing was on.
--Query--
--Always ask before accessing the internet?--
--Turn on anti-viral procedures?--
I clicked mental yeses to both; I couldn't believe I needed to, but sometimes common sense seemed a little hard to find with computers. I guess even the ones in your own head.
At any rate I had finished my shopping and identified five of the no doubt team of six people stalking me. The sixth was likely one of the ones in front of me, but I just couldn't spot him or her no matter what. Even in a cab, there were stretches when I simply lost my tail.
Even being out of field work for years, that was mildly infuriating. And potentially dangerous, cause if our own could do it, then so could the other side. Whichever side that was this week.
Probably the Chinese.
--Warning!--
--Power supply at 35%--
--Recharge recommended--
--Estimated 4 hours left--
So, probably a good thing to go get a recharge. I hope they had the chair ready, because I did not want to find out what happened if I ran out of power. It couldn't be that hard to hook the thing up, could it? It seemed like warming me drew a lot of power; and maybe I should turn that off in the future. Though I hated the idea of being cold.
I left it on for now. I still had several hours worth of juice, and there was no rush.
I arrived back at the apartment complex, still with no idea who the sixth person was. A quick word at the front desk to expect deliveries, and I skipped across the street to the strip lab. I was still being followed, but they hadn't followed me into the apartment building. Kind of suggestive, but they appeared to have no problem following me in here.
It likely meant they worked here, directly for this place. Of course I already had that deduced, but confirmation never hurt. Hell two of them followed me into the elevator. Unfortunately, they were two I'd already made.
“Newlyweds, huh?”
Up close the woman was just a little shy of the fresh faced appearance she had presented on the street, but the lines just starting to engrave their way across her countenance in no way detracted from her classic beauty. She was 5 ft 6.3 inches and weighed in at 156 lbs, and there was more than a suggestion of muscle under that coat. Those thighs could likely crack walnuts. Her long brown hair was pulled straight back in a severe way that belied her friendly expression, and those sparkling blue eyes spoke of a prankster nature.
Her groom was an average 5 ft 9.4 inches and weighed in at 188 lbs, also packing muscle, though in his case it was a bit more lean to his frame; a classic runner's frame. He had blond hair and blue eyes, but otherwise looked just shy of remarkable. A very good asset in the business.
“So how did you make us?”
Right to the point with him, good to know.
“Your coat was zipped but not buttoned. Teams in cold weather sometimes do that so they can get to a concealed firearm faster. It's against regulations and common sense, but some old timer likely taught you.”
I pointed to the lady.
“And you, have a .32 revolver strapped to your ankle in a state where conceal/carry is almost impossible for a civilian to get. You need pants a little less fashionable to hide something like that.”
She stuck out her leg, where the bump was just ever so slightly visible. Her companion face palmed.
“Oh, oops.Hi, I'm Holly, and this lunk here is Dirk.”
I quirked an eyebrow at him, and he answered.
“Yes, it really is Dirk.”
Holly smirked. Evidently he got that a lot.
“So, how many of us did you spot?”
“Five. Were you guys sent in with me because you were sure I made you?”
In a weird way, it made sense. At least it did to me, even if I'd see them all eventually.
“Nah, it's actually our turn. Tomorrow it'll be someone else's.”
Dirk added:
“Yes, whoever loses the rock/paper/scissors match.”
Well don't I just feel special.
The elevator finally opened, sparing me the effort of being insulted. Herb and Laura were there, and a newcomer that I didn't know.
“Kaname! Welcome back!”
Ignoring the false cheer, I turned to Herb, who was tinkering with something.
“The chair done? I'm beginning to run low on power here.”
He nodded, unlit cigarette bobbing in his teeth.
“Sure its, ran a full diagnostic. It's ready when you are.”
I turned to the guy I didn't know as Laura began to pout. A black man in his early 50's, with some interesting medals on his chest. So he was likely the officer for this crew. He confirmed it the moment he opened his mouth.
“How many did you make?”
“Five. What do I win?”
He ignored that.
“Who were they?”
I shrugged and pointed.
“These two; the lineman, the lone window shopper in mil spec cold weather boots, and the banker who took 3 different cabs to get anywhere.”
“I'm Captain Washington.”
Captain Washington? A name I'd heard before; though he was an up and coming lieutenant at the time. He snapped me out of my rumination by bringing his blue-tooth earpiece up to his mouth.
“Lieutenant Beal, congratulations, you just earned a bottle of something on me. The rest of you just earned a weeks remedial training at Langley.”
The groans behind me were muted, but I heard them anyway. The captain turned to me, hand out. I shook it.
“Kaname, ma'am, it's a pleasure. Your reputation precedes you.”
“Thank you captain, I seem to remember a few tales of your exploits as well.”
“Overstated, certainly.”
“Of course, just like mine.” I agreed, heading over to the chair.
“So you're the one in charge of this team?”
“Yes ma'am I'm in charge of your team. I'm sure you know why we're here.”
To make sure I didn't go insane and kill everyone I saw, or steal state secrets. I simply nodded; no need to be crass and just say it outright.
“I'm at just under 35% power captain. Mind if I just get right to it, and test the connection?”
“By all means ma'am. It's your show.”
I nodded and sat, the cord that scared me so much a few days ago locking on and plugging itself in as I got comfortable. Herb and Laura were down right entranced, which seemed a little odd to me. Well, the chair itself still worked, none the worse for wear from being transported. But...
“I'm getting no power at all. You sure this thing is plugged in?”
Herb looked back at the displays.
“Odd, the diagnostics worked... Oh, damn, I'm an idiot.”
He flipped an innocuous looking switch near his workstation. Wow, they didn't even trust the computer network; that was an honest to God breaker, installed to cut off power in case I went berserk while powering up or something.
Way too paranoid, but I approved.
The switch flipped, I sighed.
“Alright, I'm going to sleep. Unless any of you need something? Last chance.”
Three heads were shook.
“Alright then, good night.”
Life went on, as it was wont to do. In life it took almost no time at all for the unusual or downright strange to become commonplace.
Waking up each day in a chair one was literally plugged into, for example. Riding a massive elevator out of a tomb of a hidden government complex. Walking across the street in order to shower, dress, and otherwise keep up appearances before heading back to that subterranean tomb where the chair resided in order to be tested by analyzing political situations and trends, much as I used to do before I retired. All of that under hidden and constant armed guard.
It took less than a week for that to become normal.
And while it would take some time for my predictions to be proven correct, the events I was analyzing were obvious enough. Well at least to me; the middle east was always a certain way, and the French and Chinese were always pretty shifty. I knew, I just knew, that they were working on cold fusion together, and damn the consequences. Of course, trying to do that based on gifted schematics and expertise was an exercise in futility, but I wasn't about to tell either of them that.
I was fairly sure this had been worked on before as well, by others. That I was in fact being tested; not that it bothered me. If I kept at it, I could possibly be cleared for field work again. With some luck the doc would be allowed to make that body for me, and I could do field work in something a little more... rugged.
I stepped off the elevator and threw the carton of cigarettes at Herb.
“My good deed for the day. You should quit smoking those; they will definitely shorten your life.”
He grinned from his position on the floor, his arms up to the elbows in console wiring. He was hunting some random short or another; thankfully not in any of the systems I needed to maintain my life.
“I know, but they're sooooo good.”
I snorted. He wasn't even down to his last ones; he had one tucked behind each ear. Just where they had been when he asked me to go on this cancer stick run in the first place. I think he forgot they were there.
I half wanted to wait in order to see if he'd touch some current bare-handed, and light them up. Lisa had told me that had already happened once. His fault for not cutting the power first, but somehow he managed not to die from such mishaps.
Instinct told me that somehow it was a gifted thing, though not one I'd heard of before. I wondered what sort of oddity Lisa might be harboring.
I was almost finished with my latest boring fluff piece when the elevator opened again and captain Washington stepped out. He had just bitten into a bushel of lemons, judging from his expression.
“Hello Captain. What happened to you?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just bad news. Carry on.”
“Bad news like what?”
“Nothing I can share.”
Ahh, classified then. Lisa chose that moment to come out of the back room; a back room she had made out of the lab using medical curtains. She was working on something back there, but she wouldn't show it to either myself or Herb. Herb had already been smacked for not respecting that, and I didn't really care that much. Not wise to piss off one of the people making sure you stay alive.
With my analysis done, my work was done, on time and under budget. I scanned it, sent it, then filed it, both the electronic and hard copy. The government did so love its dead trees; it had acres of them. No doubt in a dusty warehouse somewhere.
As for the emails, I had no idea who I was actually sending them to, or if they were read. I suspected they were but only because of who I was at the moment. Checking for inconsistencies and the like. The work assignments came from the same address/ internet protocol/ user name. And while I could use my own independent systems to figure out who and where my immediate boss was, I considered it bad form. One should only spy on enemies, after all.
I used the truly massive computer in the manner to which it was best suited; I loaded up a military style shooting simulator and began a round. The captain watched silently, still standing, as I tried to improve my aim. It was a wasted effort, really. The assistance my new software gave me when aiming was more than bore thinking about.
Really; if I thought about it, odd calculations would appear in my head, and the targeting reticule that somehow imposed itself on my eyes became inundated with scrolling computerese. As long as I didn't think directly on it, the chip in my head did not think it was a query, and the distracting elements remained hidden.
The noise and light show brought Herb out of hiding; he seemed able to sniff out anything video game like as if part bloodhound. I was, of course, using a simulated gun; a hunk of plastic designed to feel just like a certain nine millimeter of my acquaintance, if not look like it. Herb somehow had a matching one, and somehow logged himself into the simulation. This was not that much of a surprise really, but I knew from the previous time he'd tried this, that I couldn't really depend on him. He couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a howitzer.
He claimed he was better, that it was just the 'game'. All I heard were excuses. When I switched to covert operations instead of the hit and run missions, he tagged out with a groan.
Those missions seemed to require more thought than he was willing to devote; last time he tried, he had missed some pretty telling evidence in the form of footprints, which led to him getting killed from behind. It was apparently pretty embarrassing for him, judging from all the cursing and chain smoking afterwards.
Marc came in just as I was finishing up a cold weather stealth op... I had completed it successfully, but gotten shot during the escape. Acceptable, a passing grade in the eyes of the government, but I needed to do better. Lieutenant Bael, a large bluff mid-western farm boy with raw features and a large frame (perfect for intelligence work, as he didn't look the part at all) came in with Dirk, both wheeling a large box between them. It looked heavy.
“Mail call for Kaname; and no, it isn't a bomb; we checked.”
I'd had my mouth open, that very question on my tongue. Bad joke, perhaps, but without it I had nothing.
“Alright then, what is it?”
Bael and Drik both stopped pushing with a flourish, and it rolled up to me. They had to have planned that in advance. It was a wooden crate, with a tarp stretched over it, and a plastic sleeve with some form of paperwork inside.
The paperwork was really a note:
“Dear Kaname, please take good care of her; she is yours now. She will follow your orders explicitly, and to the best of her ability. Also included are the keys to the kingdom. It is unlikely I will ever be released, so it it all yours now. I have not forgotten what I owe you. Forever yours, Doctor Thadeus Hastur Langford.”
Ugh, I knew who this was. As soon as I removed the tarp, she sat up and confirmed it. Sara Merit's glassy blue eyes were staring into mine.
“Greetings and hello, operator Kaname.”
“Hello Sara.”
I turned to Marc.
“How did you spring her?”
I had no doubt that he was the real reason she wasn't languishing in a storage facility somewhere, or dismantled.
“Well, she's a robot. After we had the lab boys check her for secret orders that could be used to try and bust the good doctor out, or hidden bombs or assassination orders, you know, the usual... and she came up clean, it was suggested we get some use out of her somehow. She is a fairly advanced smart system after all, and she responds to you. Who created her isn't any fault of hers. So we asked the doc, and he sent his blessing.”
I could almost bet the doc suggested it first. But if Marc wanted plausible deniability, he could have it.
“Well that's cool I suppose, but I've no idea what use to put her to.”
“Ooooh! Memememememememe!”
Of course Lara had ideas. She started circling, staring at Sara so intently that if she were an actual person, she'd likely be blushing.
“No Lara, you're not dismantling her.”
“But she's a Langford original! A series nine! You know how rare and advanced those are? The only ones better are....”
“Adlevo, series tens, twelves, and fourteens, supposedly.”
Huh. Where had the hostility in my voice come from? The doc had treated me well, but from an objective standpoint, much of what he made was inferior to Adlevo's... or so I'd been told. I had been doing some research of my own as well as my clearance allowed, and I was beginning to have my doubts.
Of course, all that aside, Lara was right. The doc's designs were among the most advanced in the world. Even Sara was a catch for just about any government or major corporation. And his lesser stuff? Well, much of it was in use already, in China and Russia. Some countries in the middle east Had some of his earlier combat designs too.
“Operator Kaname. Do you require any assistance?”
The operator tag was new. Looking at her, she seemed to have the same set of clothes as when we were all picked up, with the same rips and stains. I would have to remedy that, at some point.
“Yes, could you clean the lab, please?”
She slowly looked around, taking it all in.
“Understood.”
She went right to the small closet filled with cleaning supplies and removed a broom and dustpan. Lara tsked at me.
“One of the most advanced androids of the age, reduced to a Roomba. You should be ashamed.”
I snorted at her again.
“Better than your plans for her. She stays intact this way.”
“Young ladies shouldn't make vulgar noises.”
I rolled my eyes at her. She should know better. I had noticed that the body tended to fool people though, even the ones that should know better. Silly me, I had made the mistake of telling her that, and her response was to tease over it.
I worried about the state of our world and it's future, governed by such people.
Marc looked at the screen that had my attention before his arrival.
“So this is what you do with your time? What about the work you're sent?”
“Finished. Not like I have much else to do, really. So I thought I'd try to get re-certified. My covert field ops score and aim are better than they used to be. Only one last thing to test.”
He grunted non-commitally. There was no simulation for the last thing; spy operations in enemy territory. I knew he didn't want me doing any of that again, but he was smart enough not to say so.
For my part, I wasn't sure I did either, but if I was going to be forced into it, then I wanted to be ready. Dirk had other concerns.
“Figures.”
Bael took the bait.
“What figures?”
“We just got done busting our backs, doing grunt work, hauling around something that could walk itself around.”
Bael blinked and grinned.
“Welcome to the Army, soldier.”
I shrugged.
“Could have just called ahead and ruined the surprise. I'd have told her to come find me.”
They two both swiveled their heads at exactly the same moment to stare pointedly at Marc. He grinned at them.
“....Whoops?”
I wanted to fan the flames, so I did.
“He did that on purpose. He's Navy.”
Want to see someone sputter indignantly? Accuse an Army man of being Navy. Then run, very very fast. I threw caution to the wind as Marc tried to pounce. For the first time in a long time, I was faster. He chased me around for awhile, then stopped, adjusting his tie. The smile never left his face. Bael however, evidently didn't know Marc well enough. Understandable, really.
“Really? We really have Navy in our midst, here?”
I shook my head, wondering for about the thousandth time about the lack of shortness in my breathing. Also for the thousandth time I ignored the roll of text that described how and why I breathed at all to me.
“No, I lied. He's Army, then Langley, same as me. That's how we met in fact, Langley. I was teaching... well, a variety of things, and he was learning them.”
Dirk and Bael shook their heads.
“That's terrible. To even lie about a thing like that... sad.”
“Hey, all is fair in love and humor.”
A pretty lame comeback, even by my standards, but they both laughed anyway.
There was something else in the crate; a small box that had been under Sara. I touched it lock first on accident, and it popped right open. Inside were half a dozen flash drives and 4 small notebooks, all labeled in the doctor's neat scrawl. The note included said it all:
“Kaname. Included are full schematics of your body in particular, your series, and the other models you've seen as well as some other assorted inventions that could be of use. Sara knows how to read and construct them, if needed, and will do as you ask. Please feel free to use them all as you see fit.”
It was all his notes on my body series, and on Sara's. The thumb drives were all terabyte models, and full; at least, that's what the labels said. They were also labeled by model series, and even had a miscellaneous one. Which meant I was short a few, but I wasn't greedy.
As if conjured, Lara was at my side, grasping my arm and drooling on my shoulder.
“Is that...?”
Herb also shuffled forward like a zombie, eyes on the notebooks.
“Looks like it is....”
I prepared to run for my life again.
“No. Bad techs! Anyone have a rolled up newspaper?”
Just as they were beginning to close, I spotted my salvation.
“Sara! Come get this box, and put it away for safekeeping.”
“Understood operator Kaname.”
I got the box closed despite the pouts, and Sara carried it away.
“The doc left them to me for safekeeping, so safe kept they will be. You already know all you need to about me, and I'm not going to see random Langford death machines walking around if I can help it.”
It was a goodwill gesture, I knew. A way to show the courts he was cooperating in the hopes they would let him out sometime before he died. But for all of that, it was still touching nonetheless; he was trying to do right by me.
I had no illusions that I would be able to keep the tech secret, but I could at least mess with the two tasked with learning it for a time. Marc and I shared another look.
“You mean you don't want the competition?”
“Exactly. Bow before your new cyborg overlord.”
“Well, I still like her better than the last guy.”
“Don't worry; you'll get your chance to look through it all. I just want to see if I can do it first. I mean, I want to test any understanding this chip in my head might provide.”
Herb straightened up and stopped joking.
“You think it could offer you some sort of advanced understanding on how gifted tech works?”
I knew it did, after a fashion. If I looked at my own schematics for example, I could understand what piece went where, and why. At least, given a little time. What I didn't know, was whether I could do that for anything else. I was fairly sure building anything from scratch was out, however.
“Not sure, but that's what I want to find out. And in order to do that, I need to look those notes over, and I can't really do that if you're doing it. So you both can wait a day.”
I did not miss the weighted glance he threw Marc's way.
“Then take your time.”
I ignored the byplay, instead doling out a gracious nod.
“Your cyborg overlord thanks you. Now, your assignment, should you choose to accept it, is to actually score positively on the sim you just failed. Pick up your gun, and fumble around for our amusement, please.”
He grumbled, but complied. I sat to watch, wishing for a beer. Wishing for a reason to actually drink beer, other than to waste it; the desire itself was a phantom thing, but needing the beverage to settle my stomach and calm my nerves? That would have been downright human of me. The taste would be nice too, but I couldn't really justify the waste as is. Too many other peoples of the world needed a nice cold one in order to unwind.
I had once proposed that very thing become global policy; it was shot down for religious reasons.
Now I had to ruin the mood completely.
“So, how goes the case Marc?”
“He's hired Gibbons. A move that according to Gibbons himself, Adlevo tried to block by calling in his retainer.”
Gibbons was one of the foremost defense lawyers of our age and country, with a winning record that any lawyer would kill to have. He had in fact represented Adlevo before... on Adlevo v. Carmichael, a very famous case of copyright infringement or theft. He had won it for Adlevo, a good twenty years ago, and been on retainer ever since. None had levied such accusations on him since. If my memory served, Carmichael was Adlevo's first assistant, who quit and brought the lawsuit after a year. Langford was his second. The fact that Gibbons was willing to ignore a good client of long standing in favor of representing the doc was pretty telling, in my opinion. Well either that or Gibbons was going to railroad the doc; but everything I'd read about the man indicated he was a stand up guy. Well, for a lawyer at any rate.
“That reminds me. Gibbons has asked to talk to you regarding Langford's defense, and your own possible upcoming trial.”
Urk.
“What? Trial?”
Marc nodded.
“Yep. Money laundering, possibly. The bank, remember?”
Well, crap. Try to do something nice for people....
“But I didn't know. I didn't even know who I was. The doc asked a favor, and I said sure.”
“Yes, I know. You told me. But there's going to be a hearing on whether or not to bring charges. Gibbons wants to talk to you about Langford, and that hearing. I think he's willing to represent you for it.”
Well that would be... a godsend. If I left it up to the government I'd probably be bundled in a deeper hole than this one or doing fieldwork in war zones before the month was out. There was no doubt that I would avoid jail time, and even my record would be expunged, but it would be used as blackmail in any event. Having a public name on the case would ensure against that possibility.
“Well, when did he want to meet?”
“Next Monday, 1:00 P.M.”
Hmm, a little later than I wanted. I could have done with tomorrow. Herb was doing alright, but he was going to get killed from behind again. At least this time he realized the mistake of the footprints. Now it was the sniper that was going to get him. Well that or the dogs. Lara hadn't paid attention to anything since the data reveal; she was busy chasing Sara around. I wasn't worried; Sara had divined my intent apparently, and despite being stronger was still being gentle. The only thing she was doing was holding onto the box, when she could just as easily flatten Lara as an attacker.
“By the way, been meaning to ask you Herb; what's the final verdict on my battery status?”
--Battery charge 82%--
Thank you, chip inspired voice in my head, but not quite what I meant. And then unbidden, power usage and cost by system graphs unfolded in my head, as it had before. I knew what it told, but I wanted to hear it from Herb.
“Well now that your CPU isn't taking up all that power to index your drive, you can last about three days if you want to. I'd say for safeties sake that pulling an all nighter is fine, but any more and you run the risk of shutdown, and my buddies and I all agree that shutdown is bad.”
And then the dogs got him, and he threw his gun down with a curse.
“Who the hell designs these things?!? This is bullshit!”
Lieutenant Bael picked up the gun, and slapped the randomizer option. We all sat back and watched, even Lara, who was now bored of messing with our human shaped Roomba. He completed it and in record time, which I guess wasn't that hard considering the only other records on our computer were Herb's and mine. Clearly though, I was more rusty than I thought I was.
Unbidden, several memories played, one after the other, all of my previous tests on these very same sims, or at least their equivalents. In my youth, my best scores, my times were displayed with perfect clarity. And Lieutenant Bael had beaten me handily. Stupid perfect recall; I was pretty sure I wasn't born with that. Of course, no one else needed to know my scores; aside from Marc, no one should know. Or hopefully not; they were classified, but chances were everyone had read my file. Even the redacted bit. As The good Lieutenant crossed the electronic finish line I tested the waters.
“Meh, I've done better.”
Bael, Captain Washington, and Marc all three looked at me askance. They definitely did know. I wondered if they could tell that I knew that they knew?
“Well then, grandpa, show me how it's done.”
I picked up my gun and restarted the simulation, hitting the randomize option as well. I was privately happy to be called grandpa; sure it was a teasing insult, but at least Bael hadn't forgotten whose brain was wrapped up in this weird package.
I did have a real audience now, and pride was on the line, so I decided to get serious.
I used everything; my built in gun sight, infra-red, calculated ballistic arcs and gps maps to determine the best guard locations, everything I could. I went embraced all the technology in my head everything I used to scoff at in another life. In the end, after much sweat and stress (simulated) I completed the mission and tied Bael's score. That is, the score on our machine; I had a feeling he had better ones elsewhere.
“Not bad. You got the skills, at least.”
He clapped me on the back, hard.
“You'll get there some day, old man.”
“Well a tie isn't a loss, but it isn't a win either. So, I nominate Kaname to get today's take out.”
My detail had taken to doing this; coming up with excuses to send me out. I think they were going stir crazy, and this was the easiest way for them to get exercise. I didn't care, of course; I could ignore any desire to go out for months. I had before, I probably would again. But between incidents like these, and the impromptu hand to hand sessions (which I was out of practice for), I was making more trips than I was used to, and mostly for bad food. I didn't really mind and it wasn't anything to argue over.
“Fine, what do you want?”
“Chinese? Team 2, what do you guys want for dinner?”
I shrugged and waited for the individual orders to flow.
"Melvin Numen."
I stood up and walked over, amongst the cheers and catcalls. I was not well beloved by our wonderful school body, being of small stature, large intellect, and 'nerdy' appearance. A winner of scholastic bowls and terrible at sports, and voted most likely to turn warlock. The last was a source of chagrin, as I really didn't see myself as the vengeful school shooting humanity hating jackass type.
"Congratulations young man."
Nagrij
I stood patiently in line with the rest of my peers, looking around the old warehouse sized building. Packed bleachers filled with chattering, screaming parentage, the school colors of blue and grey everywhere muted by black robes and stupid hats. Heavy hot and itchy, we all stood in differing states of anger or irritation, waiting for the long winded jerk bag to get on with the names.
"Lisa Nule."
The sparkly energetic blonde next to me that never gave me the time of day screamed in joy and went to get her diploma and listen to the inane mouthings of congratulations from our principle. Finally.
"Melvin Numen."
I stood up and walked over, amongst the cheers and catcalls. I was not well beloved by our wonderful school body, being of small stature, large intellect, and 'nerdy' appearance. A winner of scholastic bowls and terrible at sports, and voted most likely to turn warlock. The last was a source of chagrin, as I really didn't see myself as the vengeful school shooting humanity hating jackass type.
"Congratulations young man."
The Principle, a jolly balding man nearing his 50's murmured, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. Screw it, celebrate now, worry about later when it happens. I took my silly piece of paper rolled into a scroll and left to make way for the next poor schmuck to get out of the institutional madhouse and on to higher learning.
An eternity later, the last person was called, Frederick Willington the 3rd, and we had all officially graduated and caps flew. As quickly as I could, I escaped the madhouse crush of other students also trying to escape. The noise was just short of sanity threatening. I crested the human wave, heading towards where I last saw my parents.
My father, the normal one, was a cop. Not a beat cop, he worked his way up. He was a detective, working narcotics. At 6 feet 1 inch, he was average height and build, with wiry muscle and a slight athletic bent. His was a face that couldn't stand out in a crowd, or be described without describing half of the population of the United States. This belied a quick wit and sharp mind. if not for the weather beaten exterior age had wrought, people would no doubt say I was his younger brother. I took after him almost entirely, and was very proud of his accomplishments.
My mother was a loon. Not one of those nice harmless air-headed types of loons, I mean she was just ever so slightly bent in ways that made you cock your head to the side in wonderment in the best of times....and made you outright fear for your life on bad days. She was also hotter than the fires of hell, as the saying goes.
Rich auburn hair, green eyes, a playboy centerfold's body and a card carrying meds taking fruit loop. I knew she'd never hurt me, it was obvious she loved me, but I wasn't so sure about anyone else. Even now, knowing what to look for, I could spot 3 combat daggers secreted on her person...anyone else would no doubt only see the amazing green dress she wore.
She ran up to me in a way that drew the eyes of every guy in the vicinity to her person...or her front. Inwardly I cringed; she was not wearing a bra...again.
"Great job honey! You did it!"
"I graduated mom, yes. It's something anyone can do."
"But you did it without any eldritch horrors eating the school, or the principle shooting you all, or....."
"Darling, that is enough. The school is well protected. And Melvin, don't be a smartass to your mother."
"Yes dad, sorry mom."
"I don't mind honey, I just want pictures! Hold still and smile!"
I did as ordered, suppressing that inward sigh as dad was watching.
A small eternity and many digital camera flashes later, dad broke it up.
"Alright Sam, that's enough, if we don't hurry we won't make our reservations."
"Oh, OK." She pouted, somehow managing to look around 20, instead of the 46 I knew her to be.
"So where are we headed?"
"Headed to the finest in the land Melvin...the Retreat."
My mother's eyes lit up even as I groaned. The retreat was a hole...sure the food was great, but it was always filled with holier than thou spiritualists, including the owner. they always had some new age flavor of the week thing going on there. But the reason mom and dad liked it, and the main reason it was always packed, was that it seemed absolutely free from demon attack.
In the 50 years since it's founding, the Retreat had offered 4 star cuisine to the wealthy or those with pretensions of wealth, in a completely demon free environment. It had never been attacked, not once, and the rumors had it that those demons close while rampaging simply changed direction. It was considered good luck to eat there on special occasions, as if somehow that blessing would rub off.
I thought it was silly superstition, but it was a local legend, and kids of all ages would flock to the Retreat for sweet 16's, graduations, birthdays, you name it. My mother couldn't get enough of the place. She would likely book a table every week if not for the ridiculous waiting list. to get tables tonight dad must have called months in advance.
We made our way through the press, my dad and I treading through the waves of people crashing into us, my mother simply walking casually as people made way for her, until we reached the doors.
"Hey Merv! Wait up!"
I turned to see Felicity Andrews headed my way. Felicity, or 'city as she was known, was kind of an enigma. She was taller than I was, almost as tall as father, with lustrous brown hair and hazel eyes. A track star, she was tentatively listed as number three in the "unofficial list of top ten school hotties", a periodical written by some of the more refined gentleman of our graduating class. Despite that she seemed to have a thing for me. For my part, I had no idea how to handle her.
"Yeah city, what's up?"
"I was wondering, if you'd like to go somewhere to celebrate our release from the madhouse? My treat!"
"Can't city, the pod people have made reservations to the Retreat, and you know how they get if I were to skip. Dad would track me down and mom would wave crystals at me or something."
Her face fell. what the hell, ..I didn't understand her at all. I wasn't anyone special. We never even ran in the same circles.
"Alright...but you're not doing anything tomorrow, are you?"
"No, I'm off work tomorrow, it's a lazy day...why?" I was a bit wary, she was planning something.
"Simple, pool party at my house to celebrate, and everyone is invited. Since you have no excuse...see you there!"
And she flounced off before I could protest.
"come on son, let's go before the est of this crowd gets the same idea. You can flirt with your girlfriend later."
That grin of my fathers' pissed me off.
"She's not my girlfriend dad."
"Only yourself to blame for that son, let's go."
We reached the auditorium doors and the line slowed. The reason was obvious. They were there. The one to the left was a warlock, the one on the right, a witch. both wore black robes chased with silver, cowls pulled up even in the heat, hiding their features. Both had a stamp in hand, and were slowing the line as they stamped the hand of every graduate to leave.
The line was silent and docile, in part due to the large winged gargoyle looking monstrosity on the left, and the even larger looking red eyed snake guarding the left...the respective demons the two controlled.
Any hint of resistance was likely to be dealt with swiftly. After all this was among the most sacrosanct duties given this shadowy branch of our
government.
My turn both seemed to take an eternity, and approach far too quickly. Then the family in front of me was waved through, not having any graduates in their ranks, (the oldest child was one I vaguely recognized as a sophomore) and the Witch dismissed my parents and looked right at me. I could only tell because her head was turned my way and I felt her gaze on me...the cowl hid her face even in the bright lighting of the auditorium.
"Melvin Numen, Stick out your hand please?"
I stuck out my right hand (the one I'm reasonably sure I could do without if necessary) and she carefully used her stamp on the back of my hand, making an unbroken pentagram upon it.
"In a week's time if you have not returned to this facility to get tested, this mark will activate and you will die. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"Then you are free to go. See you inside of a week, Melvin Numen."
She made a note next to my name as we left, none of us speaking. The way she kept stressing my full name was creepy. Made me think of some of the old rumors.
"My my, would you look at the cat! it certainly is big!" My mother exclaimed, running up and petting the 5 foot tall winged gargoyle beast.
"Mother, that isn't a cat, it's a demon. Please stop petting it before it kills you."
My father didn't even waste time with words, and showed no fear as he reached out and dragged mom away by an arm.
"Bye bye pretty kitty!"
I couldn't resist the face palm. Luckily enough we weren't all rent limb from limb, just followed by the gaze of a bewildered looking eldritch foe of all humanity.
"Well now that that's over, son why don't you drive?" Dad tossed the keys to his vintage restored 66 Chrysler Newport boat-car.
"Got it dad."
And I did, mom was flaking out a bit more than normal, and dad was going to basically sit on her and keep her from killing us all. the last thing we needed was her deciding to drive instead of dad. But she wouldn't refuse me.
The drive was uneventful, and even sort of peaceful, with dad in back with mom whispering in her ear constantly, and not up front driving me crazy with the usual comments about driving to fast or too close, or whatever.
Once out of the school parking lot, traffic was surprisingly light and we made good time. Twenty minutes later and without even swapping paint, I pulled in to the Retreat...and 5 minutes after that finally found a parking spot. The place was as always, packed.
We walked in the door, and Giles was there. Giles Brousard was the owner, hailing from Paris France. He immigrated seeking asylum from some minor war or other, but kept his accent.
"Ahh, Samantha, what a pleasure to have you among us! Your table is right this way, please! Come, come!"
We followed the excitable frenchman to the back, and the table mom favored when we came here. next to the fire exit, but facing the front door and With no
windows close.
Giles seated my mother facing the door, while dad and I took seats facing her.
"Ahh, that day Melvin...it is good that you came here, yes? I will perform the ritual to make sure you do not get selected by the demons."
I looked around, seeing a few classmates already seated or waiting in line.
"Will you do it for my classmates too?"
"those that are here, yes. I can only do so much."
Faker. I rolled my eyes.
"whatever, good plan I guess."
"You will see Melvin! Yes, you will become a believer, and have wonderful food doing so! Your menus."
He handed off the three yellowed parchment menus that popped from nowhere.
"I will send Cynthia to you in a moment, please wait patiently."
He left us alone.
Mom perused the menu, I set mine aside. Dad also set his aside a moment later.
"So son, given any thought on what you're going to do?"
I'd put off my guidance counselor and skipped career day, simply because the sword of Damocles hadn't yet dropped. My dad knew this, and knew the selection was still upon us for another week.
"Well state has given me a scholarship for criminal justice...thought I'd follow in your footsteps."
He started a bit and smiled...a little thing, soon enveloped by his habitual poker face.
"That's wonderful son, But I'd prefer you try forensics or the science angle; you're too brilliant for a beat cop."
"We will see what happens when we get there I think, not really too worried about it now."
"well just keep in mind, forensics experts can make twice as much as a detective, if they're good."
I nodded, then Cynthia was there. Giles' daughter, I always empathized with her.
"Hello there Numen family! How are my favorite regulars today!"
"Here to celebrate a graduation! Bring out the margaritas! Beer by the keg!" My mother yelled in response, dampening the buzz of conversation quite a bit.
"Mom! Inside voice please."
"Samantha, please."
"Um, so...ready to order?"
"Son, you first."
"I'd like fettuccine Alfredo and a coke."
"I'll have steak tartar and a Guinness."
"And I'll have Salmon terrine and tomato bisque please. Oh and a margarita!"
"alright, it shouldn't be more than 20 minutes. I'll be back with your drinks soon."
We made small talk, even after the drinks arrived. We were avoiding the 800 pound gorilla in the room with light hearted meaningless banter. The gorilla didn't care of course, it just sat there between us all. Other families were having the same problem.
We finished our meal (excellent, at least deserving of its four star reputation) and left the standard tip for Cynthia on the table. On our way to pay and leave, Giles appeared next to us again, following us.
"It is on the house Samantha, And I have done the ritual! Have no fears! All will be well!"
My mom was of course drunk by this time, having downed 5 margaritas, her poison of choice. She grabbed his hands and planted a big sloppy kiss on his cheek.
"Oh thank you Garson! I just know everything will be alright now!"
My father all but dragged her out as she blew kisses to Giles. I, for my part, slouched over and tried to look inconspicuous.
"Drive us home son, I got her."
I drove as ordered, carefully maneuvering the boat down the back roads as dad kept mom from getting too loud. We pulled into the drive and I tried to hand dad the keys.
"Keep them son, it's your car now. Just take care of it, OK?"
I will, and thanks dad. She gonna be OK?"
"Yeah she will son, this is just hard on her. You can raid the cabinet if you want, but no going anywhere if you do. We'll be upstairs."
He unlocked the door and went in first, while I stood there admiring my new old car and enjoying the night air. The stars were exceptionally bright in the cloudless sky. A few deep breaths later I walked in shut the door, and threw the deadbolt. a short side trip to the liquor cabinet later and I was upstairs with a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.
Sobbing could be heard from the master bedroom, loud deep wracking sobs that tore at my heart. shutting the door I turned my wall mounted television on and upped the volume. I found a zombie movie marathon, poured myself a shot, and kicked back to relax.
*****************************************************************
I woke with of course, a pounding head, dry mouth, rolling stomach, and other side effects of a night spent drinking while watching a movie marathon. My alarm clock read just after 10am, which meant I was likely late. I turned off my television and listened. All was quiet, which meant that my parents were gone. that meant dad was at work, and who knew where mom was? Likely visiting her new agey friends.
With no need to keep particularly quiet or take the usual precautions, I stumbled my way amidst curses and bright lights, into the shower. I drank about half the water pouring out as I cleaned up, and took four aspirin. Label warnings be damned. Feeling a bit more steady, I threw on some random clothes, ran a comb through my unruly hair and made my way downstairs to have a quick breakfast before dealing with what I had to do.
There were powdered donuts on the counter; dad's idea of a joke. He always liked poking fun at police humor. A note on the fridge told the day's tale. Dad was at work, and mom was seeing her shrink. It wasn't her scheduled day, so I assume I was at the heart of it...well my graduation in any case. Lunch was in the fridge, yadda yadda yadda, we love you, signed dad. Taking it down, I grabbed a mountain dew from the fridge. The lunch consisted of a sandwich of questionable origin.
I could always eat out later I guess.
So four donuts (which translates to five minutes) later I grabbed my keys and locked the door, going to my new beastly ride. Sure it didn't look like much, but it had a v8 standard, and could hit 0 to 60 in 6 seconds. I know, my dad showed me once.
It was still there, which meant he had to be in the old Lincoln, also lovingly restored. And mom would no doubt be in her little fiesta. I still couldn't believe I had my own wheels. Dad must have been planning this for years, the Lincoln was a relatively recent addition.
We weren't poor by any stretch, but we weren't rich either. I mean dad was on a cop's salary, and mom hadn't worked since I was born. Which reminded me; I checked my wallet. A 20, which was enough for lunch and gas...barely. The older a car was the more gas it guzzled.
I had a job stocking shelves at the local grocery, but I wasn't sure it would be enough to cover the new insurance fees I was sure dad would foist off on me in the name of building my character.
My character was built plenty in school, but the less he knew about that the better. Felicity Andrews' party today was hopefully the last I'd have to put up with it though.
It was a beautiful day once I got past my light induced pounding head. The sun seemed especially bright, the trees filled with green, flowers blooming, and people friendly. It kind of annoyed me, truth told. How dare this day, of all days, be so freaking bright and filled with promise?!?
I made it to 'City's house without incident, pulling into the gated drive that led to her palatial house on the hill overlooking the good part of town as a benevolent king looked upon his subjects. I parked my car carefully amongst the rows of others ruining the manicured lawn and walked around to the back.
The pool was a large Olympic size, and crowded beyond belief. Our entire small class had to be here...which I guess was the point. Snacks were thrown on tables in a half-hazard fashion, a card table loaded past it's safe breaking point with beverages of varying alcoholic content next to it. Not my kind of scene at all.
"Melvin you came! awesome, that makes everyone!"
"Hi, sorry I'm late City."
"No problem, you're fashionably late. I bet you forgot your trunks too, right? No don't answer, I know. Anyway, enjoy yourself, got to mingle."
"OK, no problem. Have fun."
I grabbed a coke and faded into the background, watching the zoo animals in action. Sudden freedom didn't seem to change them any. It took a good twenty minutes for the jackals to find me. The jackal in question this round was Randolf Smith, son of a lawyer who lived just down this same hill.
"Hey Melvin." He said my name with a smirk, but at least he used it for once. Odd.
"Hello Randolf."
I was always polite and cordial...most of the time.
"So what did you think of that set up after graduation? I bet that witch was really hot under that robe of hers."
"she probably had needle teeth and horns. You know what they say."
"True. Seems a shame though, she sounded hot."
So do telephone sex operators, and most of those are uglier than sin...jackass.
"so have you gotten tested yet?"
"Nope, just woke up and came here."
"I got tested this morning, it was easy...one minute standing in their circle, and it was 'goodbye Mr. Smith, enjoy your life.'"
He showed me his hand, where the blue star that meant you were of age or past and had been tested resided. No draft dodging for him, no siree! ....I really needed to rein in my sarcasm.
"Good for you. I'm just trying to avoid the initial rush. I'll likely go tomorrow or the next day, just hate the idea of standing in lines."
He gave a noncommittal grunt.
"I doubt they take anyone from our class..in fact I'd bet on it, our class is so small I doubt any of us have that infernal spark they look for."
Ahh, now I got it. I of course was the one person they'd all bet against. I'd never been caught messing around with Ouija boards or tarot cards or any of the other crap kids normally messed with at least a little, never been caught reading those bastardized copies of the 'Necronomicon' or 'the Various Mysteries' as Randolf himself had (an act that had almost resulted in his expulsion)....but I had the completely unwarranted reputation to uphold, apparently.
"I don't know, Sometimes even small classes have large percentages...like Salem. Read any good books lately?"
A childish dig maybe, but warranted in my opinion. He paled; no one liked to be reminded of Salem. One year, half their class was selected. They still managed rates of eight percent, well over what any other lone town could manage, even with that culling.
"Good point Melvin. So anyone you want to bet on? I'm running a pool."
"Not a soul. I don't believe there is any behavioral link that indicates who might get picked."
"Then how do you explain Salem? You just mentioned them, and the entire town is full of the type."
"I think it's genetics actually, recessive traits and all that. I mean, look how many devil worshipers and crystal wavers aren't picked."
"Hmm, maybe...but if it was you'd think science could prove it by now, I mean we found mapped the human genome."
"How do we know what the demons look for? For all we know it could be tied to hair or eye color. Hard to find that needle in a sea of haystacks."
"I guess. Oh well, we will see. Not swimming?"
"Nah, not a fan of the water...you know that."
He should, he dunked me in the municipal pool enough, whenever I decided to show up. He nodded and walked off, back to no doubt confer with his peers.
Ah well.
"And the douche leaves. Hey man."
I turned to see Jeremy Swanson, one of the nerd crew that is so typical of high schools the country over...and my closest friend. He considered me a member of his chess club, even though I'd never joined.
"Hey Jeremy, how are you doing?"
"Good man, good."
I caught him giving my hand a fleeting glimpse.
"How are you? Stanford still taking you?"
"Of course they are, just cause I missed valedictorian is no reason to write me off."
"You could have, you let Dewey have it on purpose."
"I will neither confirm nor deny that assessment."
while Jeremy was my best friend, I wasn't his. Dewey Harris was, and they were basically inseparable.
"So where is old Dewey? Even he should be here."
"Hes over by Gloria, trying to get her to give him the time of day."
Dewey has had a major crush on Gloria Luxhall, our resident token rebellious emo/goth chick, for years. She has never once responded that I know of.
"Ugh, he should give that idea up. Gloria hates everything, including him."
"Tell em about it...but word has it she likes brains, so our resident valedictorian might just have a shot this time."
I looked over and notice Gloria was actually talking to him, even if she did look bored out of her skull. Dewey's wide eyed eager puppy impression probably wasn't helping matters. I saluted the attempt with my coke.
"The plot thickens. You sir, are an officer and a gentleman."
"I confirm nothing, plausible deniability all the way. Which reminds me, why do you keep stringing City along? She's nice, has avoided the Randolf types for years, and carries a torch for you large enough for the statue of liberty to use."
I held up my right hand.
"The sword of Damocles. I won't do anything till it's not hanging over my head."
"Including live. Take a word of advice man, you've almost waited too long. Plan your life some, map it out. You've wasted years on what ifs here. Stop doing that."
"Tomorrow man, we will know tomorrow."
I know that most people are able to shove the selection in the back of their minds and do whatever they want, much like the British during the blitz and IRA days. I'm told most people simply enjoy their lives to the fullest while they can, and find their peace there. I just couldn't do that; I wasn't wired that way.
So tomorrow was when my life truly began.
"Whatever dude. I plan on going tomorrow too. Over half the class went today, the rest seem to be waiting the week."
"All according to plan."
"Hey, doing OK you two?"
I turned to see that City had snuck up behind me, a couple cold cokes in hand. She handed me one as I replied.
"All good here, just discussing your love life."
Jeremy smacked me in the back of the head as City gave her priceless look of embarrassed surprise.
"Idiot, you're not supposed to tell her you think she does it like a weasel to her face!"
"Whoops." I deadpanned.
She laughed.
"Just don't let my parent hear you say that. I think my dad still wants to discuss his gun collection with you."
I looked around in mock fear.
"He's not here is he?!?"
She laughed again.
"no, of course not, they started their second honeymoon today. Said I was a big girl and had the run of the house. Pretty sure they knew I wanted to pull a party like this at least once."
"You mean one bigger than your sweet sixteen, which shall live in infamy."
"Of course."
I couldn't remember that party; none of us who went could. I'd hazard a guess that for many of us that was our first time getting drunk off our ass.
"Well, I'm going to swim in my pool while I still can, getting colder you know! See you boys later!"
She ran giggling, and stripped her shirt and shorts off along the way. The bikini underneath revealed, she cannon-balled, splashing everyone near the pool with a laugh. My mouth was suddenly dry, So I took another long drink of the coke she'd handed me before.
"You know she's too good for me right? I can't be the only one to have noticed that."
Jeremy gave me a look approaching pity.
"Man, it doesn't matter if she is. you're who she picked. Just enjoy it while you can...before she wises up."
"truer words were never spoken."
I watched the lovely mermaid swim along, laughing, splashing, racing others. I felt the need for air...outdoors no less. My former class as a whole was stifling in its gaiety, it's mindless merriment. the dark clouds threatened to haze my vision in red again, as they had done once before.
"Look man, this really isn't my scene. I came for her, but I need to leave before I get pissed off. Any way you could make apologies for me?"
"sure thing dude, I'd imagine she already knows you want out of here. She knows you better than you do."
"Probably. Catch you later man, give Dewey the good word and all."
"I will. Catch you on the flip side."
We fist bumped and I left.
Checking my watch as I walked to the front again, I frowned. I actually had blown quite a bit of time at the party...it was 3:54. Time for late, very late lunch. Kind of surprising, since I talked to all of three people. The only ones with the guts to come up to me in fact. Back down the mountain I go, the radio keeping me company with the areas' only rock station. The local Burger Barn was only eight blocks from here, an easy drive.
The place was mostly empty, with only a few kids younger than me inside, and I ordered my usual...a triple and large fries. Sitting at my customary booth (back to the wall, watching the entrances...a habit I learned from my mother.) I ate quickly; my parents would be back home soon, regardless of where they had gone. I was done and getting up to throw my wrappers away when the main plate glass window exploded.
What had caused the window to explode was a 3 foot long or so gray hairless dog with jagged teeth reminiscent of a dinosaur. It's head was perhaps twice as large as it needed to be, but it carried it easily. Greenish purple blood flowed freely from large rents in its' skin, but it didn't seem inconvenienced; it jumped over the counter,onto a worker in a spray of blood that hit the ceiling, the process almost an afterthought.
The window disgorged another apparition, even as the fastest people were hitting the exits. This one was a grey gargoyle, large and seemingly chiseled from rock itself. It wore a red loincloth (for which I was thankful) was hairless with numerous scars all over it's body. It was carrying it's summoner in
it's arms, a robed woman.
I also recognized both from yesterday. they both turned to me, the only one visible not already running for the hills.
"Which way did it go?"
I pointed to the counter.
"It probably went out back through there. It lept over the counter." I pulled out my phone, no longer as interested in leaving.
"what's that for? pictures?"
"What? no! There is a guy down behind the counter. He might still be alive."
Her demon went over the counter and she followed, vaulting it easily.
"Well you can call, but call 912, not 911. Don't worry about this guy...hes dead."
I took a step over, but she shook her head.
"Don't kid. You don't want to see this. Got to go."
Her voice and rapid steps receded into the distance. Solid advice, 912 was the rapid response anti demon task force, Sort of a anti demon SWAT consisting of specially trained police, fire, and EMT's. And of course, every squad had a witch or warlock too.
"912; state your location." That was a bit different, normally the authorities asked for the nature of the emergency first, didn't they?
"1rst and Palmer; the Burger Barn, Oakwood."
"Are you safe sir?"
"For the moment, pretty sure it's gone. It was some sort of dog, with huge teeth, about 3 feet long. A witch and her demon were chasing it. The reason I called was the dog mauled one guy to death that I saw, and there are probably more. Some might still be alive.
"Response is rolling, I estimate 5 minutes sir. Your name please?"
"Melvin Numens officer."
"Alright Melvin. I'd like you to go somewhere you know you'll be safe. A freezer or windowless room, something like that. Can you do that?"
"I don't see anything like that. I'll just go to my car; It's pretty much a tank, and can outrun whatever that dog was. Thinking it will double back?"
"It has happened before. If you're going to your car, please just drive down and meet our officers."
"Sure."
While the police might have issues with witnesses leaving crime scenes it was apparently encouraged by the ADTF; good to know. I took a cautious look outside. Looked clear, so I sprinted for my car, the only one left in the lot, got in (I left it unlocked) checked the backseat quickly (you watch horror movies and ignore your backseat, I dare you) Fired the tank up and left, heading down main in the direction I knew the ADTF had to come.
I wasn't long in finding them, tearing down the road sirens blaring, lights flashing, in two blue painted military grade armored hum vees. I pulled the quickest three point turn I could and followed them as they tore back to the Burger Barn.
I waited with my hands visible on my window while the two vehicles disgorged six people each in the dark black ADTF variation of the blue SWAT uniforms I'd seen before. The first group formed a perimeter around the building, weapons up and scanning their surroundings with piercing stares.
the second went into the building itself, in teams of 2 like one would see in the movies. Their Warlock went with them, demon leading the way. I was too far away to tell gender or features, but the robes were a dead giveaway, and looked rather tacky with a kevlar vest over them.
"Mr. Melvin Numens?"
While I'd been watching the show the driver of the first hum vee had snuck up on me. He had a clipboard in hand, which struck me as a bit more incongruous than the Kevlar over the warlock's robe did.
"That's me officer."
"I'll take your statement now sir."
"Of course."
I told him everything while the other officers processed the scene. Occasionally he would get pulled away by another officer reporting in, but since my statement was quick I was done almost before the ambulances arrived. Which was when I saw the gargoyle again, carrying the headless corpse of the demon dog. Behind him was his witch, carrying the missing head. She was conferring with the officer that took my statement as I left.
shit I was late, it was now nearly six. Playing fast and loose with the speed limit I made it home just after six. My dad was waiting on the porch.
"no note, no call...."
"There was a demon incident in town, I got sort of mixed up in it."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Where and how?"
"As a witness, and at Burger Barn. I was only witness that stuck around."
"how bad?"
"there was at least one dead that I know of. Mom's paranoia saved my life. you can read all about it tomorrow, I made a statement."
left unspoken was the silent agreement that this wouldn't be mentioned to mom. She had been flaky enough as it was lately.
"don't want to talk about it?"
"Talked about it too much already, really. Just want to kick back and relax."
"I'm here if you want to. But for the record, your party went long, alright?"
I nodded.
Mom was in my face as soon as I closed the door.
"And where have you been?"
"City's party ran a bit long, I'm sorry. Phone was dead, so I couldn't call."
She stared into my eyes for a long moment while I shuffled from one foot to the next, then nodded. She was awful when it came to remembering to charge her phone, so I knew she'd believe me.
"OK. Dinner is cold, you'll have to heat it up.
"I'll just put it away, not really very hungry."
Before I knew it I found myself hugging her. Awkwardly I broke the hold.
"Love you mom; you two have fun, going to fill out some lovely paperwork in my room after I clean up."
She looked as bewildered as I felt.
"Alright son, just leave them on the table and I'll mail them in the morning."
Suiting action to words I went to the kitchen while dad pulled mom into a game of Clue. She loved that game.
Dinner tonight was beef stroganoff. One of my favorites, but I wasn't really in the mood for it tonight, even if I were hungry. After putting the leftovers away and doing the dishes, I journeyed upstairs.
On top of my desk next to my ancient computer was a small pamphlet of college applications I'd never completed. I'd sent two out, but the others...they were for very good colleges that my grades were probably not good enough for, which was why I hadn't sent them. However, why not send them? Worst thing that could happen is they would turn me down.
So with one of the die hard movies in the background I spent a few hours filling them out and in envelopes. around the 10th one I took a break for a coke. My parents were still awake and playing board games, so I snuck back upstairs, leaving my envelopes where they would be found. Somewhere around the next
die hard, I fell asleep.
**************************************************************
Mornings suck, and Sunday morning sucked more than most. When I got downstairs both mom and my college submission were gone. Dad was reading some file, and muttering to himself. I grabbed a bagel and a morning coke.
"What's up dad?"
"Just reading this report."
Dad never pulled punches with me...he always told me about his job, and how warped the world was. Which was in part why I was so screwed up, but I didn't hold it against him.
"Report on?"
"Seems that demon you saw yesterday was part of one of my cases. The summoner was a merc allegedly hired by Mikel the Butcher in order to win a turf war. Said summoner finally went crazy, and let his demon go. The ADTF is still investigating how he learned to summon demons in the first place. The books aren't easy to get anymore. Current theory is an old German legacy copy smuggled out somehow."
"Smuggled out of Germany? Wow, long distance."
"Not too far out of the realm of possibility for the Russian mafia. Especially when you consider Mikel is the grandson of a Russian officer rumored to be in Germany during the Reaping."
"Wow, but to carry a book like that out....different times, very different times, I guess."
He nodded.
"Most of this could be wrong; it's just conjecture after all, but It has a certain logic to it."
"Did they catch the guy?"
"Nah the demon killed him and ate his soul before going on that rampage. Final tally is 8 dead. We're a bit lucky that other summoner was in the area testing kids or it would have likely been higher. We're also lucky someone had the presence of mind to call 912. The situation could have gone very differently."
"That not happen often?"
"not often while the event is still going on. Usually it's an hour or more after the fact. Not too many survivors ever, and those that do generally call from a safe location...like a safe room or bank vault. Those that call immediately are generally those that are bleeding out. the rest don't want to even have a chance to see another demon, even a tamed one.
"A valid point."
"So does you plan for the day involve mowing the grass? I needs it, and you've got work tomorrow."
"Well it didn't but it does now. Guess I'll have time. Was going go back up to the school and get tested."
"Ahh, right. best to do that now."
I nodded and stood up.
"Going like that? Not going to clean up some first?"
"Nope. Right in, right out." Be damned if I'm cleaning up for those jerks.
Another beautiful day, sunny and nearly cloudless. The beast still had enough gas, and I was actually feeling pretty good for once. The drive down to the school, the last one I'd take if I could ever help it, was uneventful, and I could see Dewey, Gloria, Jeremy, and Felicity holding up the wall to the gym. I parked and approached.
"Hey guys, what's going on?"
"Oh we just thought we'd hang out here for a bit."
They followed me to the doors.
"you hear about Burger Barn?" Gloria asked, ever the gossip.
"No, what about it?" I replied, playing it cool. City echoed me.
"It was attacked by a rogue demon! Isaac, the guy who graduated last year and was working there, was killed! Daria said it right in through the window, the reinforced plate glass window!"
Gasps greeted this announcement.
"So close to my house..." City muttered wide eyed.
"It's OK City, nothing happened. your house has that top of the line security system too, with the anti demon measures right?"
"Yeah but it wasn't on... I didn't set it. It wasn't on the entire night!"
"It's ok City, you're fine...but you should probably set the alarm when you get back home."
"...Right."
"And on that happy note, we're here. So who gets tested first?"
We had walked right past the unmanned door and empty hall and into the Gym proper. The parquet floor the basketball team played on was pulled up revealing the testing circle, a six pointed star of some esoteric kind or another.
"Oh, mememe!"
Gloria stated, running ahead of us and to the testers, two warlocks this time. Of the witch that I saw yesterday, there was no sign. As for Gloria...second most likely to get selected, in action. A goth and a warlock groupie. We watched as she talked to the pair of robes. I noticed the Gym wasn't as unoccupied as I thought at first. There were army, actual military in fatigues, stationed at several points in the gym, mostly hidden behind equipment and the like, but not really trying to hide.
Weird....how did we not notice them until we were nearly in the middle of the room? I pointed a few out nonchalantly to Jeremy and he nodded, he'd noticed them. City and Dewey only had eyes for Gloria and her test.
"So think she'll get picked?" Jeremy asked.
"Nah;' I replied. 'She's a wannabe...I doubt she actually has the temperament. She views the robes as rock stars."
Sure enough, mumbo jumbo was spoken, not quite loud enough for me to make out, and nothing. No lights, bells or whistles.
"Anyone know what a positive looks like?"
The others shook their heads as with a brief back and forth with one of the warlocks Gloria headed back over, looking disappointed.
"Well I wasn't picked. Someone else's turn."
Dewey stepped up, not to be outdone.
Five silent minutes later, and he was back among us. As each of my friends was tested and found wanting by the darker side of life, my mood rose. Perhaps this year, like many others, no one from our school would be picked at all, and it could be business as usual. Then City was done, and it was my turn. I walked up with a smile, feeling a bit numb.
"Hi...melvin Numens.
"Yes. We know. Please take your place within the hexagram please."
I did so. This time I could hear the gibberish being spouted.
"suscitatio antiquus cruor!"
It sounded like Latin, and the star immediately reacted, sheathing itself in a corona of red fire which felt cool to me. The light show peaked at the ceiling as I watched in bemused awe.
"NOOOOOOO!!!"
Felicity's shocked cry brought me to my senses. I looked over to see my friends in various stages of shock and dismay. My grin didn't slip. I gave Jeremy a nod, and he nodded back. Somehow we two had always known; somehow the entire school had, or at least suspected.
"You need to come with us Sir."
I looked, bemused. Some of the soldiers I'd noticed earlier had broke ranks and ghosted behind me. They stood there just outside the star, weapons not quite raised. They looked tense. I held my hands in plain sight, though not up.
"relax guys, I'm not going to do anything crazy. Though if I'm going to get shipped off I really should tell my parents, get some of my stuff, that sort of thing."
"Please come with us Sir. Everything will be provided for you on site. Your parents will be notified."
"Alright, alright. Relax."
I watched my friends get ushered out of one side of the Gym while I was ushered out the opposite. My 'escort' was a 4 man team which bracketed me in a typical diamond formation as if I were a V.I.P. they were guarding, weapons out and scanning for trouble. They didn't seem the type to talk, so I didn't. They led me to one of their military issue hum-vees. Inside at the driver's seat was a witch. The shrunken gargoyle lying down in the back was a dead giveaway.
"So we meet again."
"So we do Mr Numens. Get in."
"Alone in the car? Not waiting for anyone else? Seems like a waste of gas."
"Article 4, subsection 13, Summoner draft law amendment; also known as 'halo's law'."
Oh, right...the halos were a radical christian group that didn't believe summoners were needed to fight demons, or something. Several years back they had ambushed a bus full of draftees with the help of the parents of said draftees. 2 warlocks would up dead, along with over a dozen of the parents, 21 of the extremists...and all of those chosen from the town of Galapagos Michigan.
Republicans and democrats agreed that the incident was a double tragedy; not only was the body count higher than any school shooting, the loss of manpower of those fifty potential warlocks was largely considered to be what finally led to the loss of Poland.
"Right, well makes sense I guess."
"don't worry Mr. Numens, you'll get there. all recruits are considered as important as federal government officials now."
"Oh, I get a security detail and million dollar pension now?"
"Pension comes later, but you got the best security detail money could ever buy. You're very own summoner, here to make sure you get to your destination. Here, put this on."
She handed me a crude looking silver bracelet. There were squiggles of some kind engraved on both sides of it. Under her watchful eye I slipped it on.
"What's this?"
"A tracking and protection charm; allows me to track you in case you get lost, protects you against small arms fire and grenades, potential enemy spells, that sort of things."
"Alright." Sounded stupid to me, but that was going to be the world I lived in now.
she waited, looking at me.
"...What?"
"Seat belt, Mr Numens."
"Oh, right."
I belted up and she took off, driving through the parking lot at 20 mph.
"Might want to slow down...won't speeding attract attention?"
She looked at me and smirked.
"Yeah you're right, I'll take it easy. Plenty of time to get to the Eyrie."
"The Eyrie?"
"The various centers that teach the art are nicknamed. The one you're going to is called the eyrie. Big tower, built in the middle of nowhere, looks like something out of 'The hobbit'. You're in luck, it has a good reputation. The one I went to was 'The hole.', guess what it was?"
"Uh, a hole?"
"A re-purposed subway station, and kind of like the community college of summoning. Where you're going is probably Stanford...or Harvard."
"complete with snobbish assholes?"
She snorted, shooting me a glance.
"Mind reader. Yeah complete with snobbish assholes."
We hit the outskirts of town and I saw a glimpse of a tail, a mid 90's blue ford sedan. I kept quiet.
"Well, screw this. you're going to be one of us soon enough."
My driver doffed her hood and the effect keeping her face hidden immediately stopped. Her features resolved themselves to show a rather cute if mousey brunette, dark brown hair a mess, green eyes alight with mischief. she looked a bit like one of those actresses that played the perky but not quite as hot best friend in a romance comedy. Couldn't have been more than a few years older than I was, either.
"Keep staring like that and I'll get self conscious. Something on my face?"
"Sorry...I'll be blunt, it's more like what isn't on your face."
"My lack of horns and needle teeth? No tusks or pig nose?"
Her demon snorted.
"Well yes. Sorry if that offends, there are stories, you understand. How you're all marked somehow, and how the robes are to hide that."
"Well those stories are true, pretty much. We make pacts with demons you see...a bargain for power. Those who bargain poorly...who lose that demonic haggle to their demon, usually end up looking like the stories suggest, or worse."
"and if you don't mind me asking, what did you lose?"
"Well in return for Thor there, as I call him...hes a minor demon lord understand, not one of the wimps...I lost the ability to feel emotional extremes. That was the cost he wanted in return for his service and his magic."
"Magic? I thought that was just something the demons themselves did."
"That is mostly true; however the true lords of hell as they are called, can share their power. Thanks to thor I can fly under my own power and do some minor nukes without benefit of summoning circles and the like."
She held up a hand and lighting arced crackling between the delicate digits.
"So,' I turned to Thor. 'do you nobles have a rank system? What rank are you?"
He stared at me a minute, sniffed, then turned over, pointedly ignoring me.
"He doesn't really like people; most demons don't. He tolerates me. For the record he told me once he was the knight of the 212th lord of hell, a "pyfthr of the uncrowned."
"Hmm, never heard of him."
She snorted again.
"Most haven't, hes basically what human aristocracy call a 'hare catcher lord'. A trumped up normal guy living in a castle too big from him, surviving off ancient deeds. That said...I told you his common use name. Don't use it. He's minor, but hes bad juju. He'd chew up a greenhorn like you, and spit you out. And if you called on him to bargain, he'd probably own your soul inside an hour."
"Got it. So names have power then?"
"theirs and ours. Our names have power to them for some reason, and theirs have power to us. We can do a quick and dirty summon with nothing more than a bit of our blood and their use name. Saves us the time of the average 6 hour ritual."
"Six hours? I can't stand still that long."
"you will; or rather you'll sit that long. It's kind of a requirement. You don't even want to think about screwing that ritual up. Or any other for that matter."
"But the 'quick and dirty magic you get is safe?"
"well it's safe-ish...can't lose my soul using it, and doesn't take forever to work up to. It's pretty handy, but I cant do much with it. Thor is stronger than the general run of the mill demon, but hes still small potatoes back in his home."
the demon harrumphed and glared at her; she didn't seem intimidated, which made me remember what she said before I got sidetracked.
"So what does the demon get out of the deal? You said he got your emotional extremes...like fear, love, anger, hate?"
"Yes, sure did...he got all of them, including embarrassment! It's simple; the trade itself gives him power somehow. The action of us selling something we have fuels a demon. Furthermore they try to gear what they bargain for so they can lead us down the path of evil. Somehow most of us picked through the ritual you took part in only get asked for individual things for services, like our emotions or appearance. Most of the early summoners got asked for their
souls outright."
"And they gave them up?"
"Not us. Not the allied summoners. The Axis however, pretty much were all the soulless. More demonic than the demons they conjured."
I shuddered.
"don't worry, they're all dead. Though rumors persist of second generation summoners somehow living in what's left of Germany, somehow."
"I don't see how that is possible."
"Me either, but I won't immediately discount it. I've seen some pretty strange things on the job."
We passed the time during the trip talking, listening to the radio (which was surprisingly good for what I'd consider a federal vehicle) and playing I spy and slug-bug. I learned her name was Karen, she was from Ohio, and had been a summoner for 5 years. She was assigned to the testing and care of new summoners and helped the ADTF when asked.
She learned about my friends and family. I saw no reason to not be as open with her as she was with me.
About an hour and a half into the drive I caught my first glimpse of it. The Eyrie. A huge rust red finger sticking out of the ground in the middle of a small patch of scrubby desert. It had to be at least 20 stories tall, and with no windbreaks I couldn't figure out how it stayed up.
"Magic, duh. The wind parts around it."
"what?"
"Everyone asks. It's good old fashioned magic. Why we do it that way rather than engineering genius, well you'd have to ask the summoner that had it built. Of course he's dead now, so good luck with that."
"Oh."
My phone rang.
Karen stared at my pocket as I jumped.
"Go ahead. Normally I'd have taken it standard operating procedure, but you haven't tried to use it once. It's likely your parents."
"Yeah, likely, thanks."
I quickly fished it out of my jeans and hit the proper button.
"Melvin honey!?! That you!?" Oh great, it's not the level headed parent.
"Yes mom it's me, guess you all heard by now?"
"Where are you?!?!" I looked at Karen; she shook her head.
"I can't tell you where I am mom, sorry."
"listen honey, this is very important! you can't trust anything a demon says!"
"I know mom, I've heard the stories, heck you used to tell them to me as a kid at bedtime."
how she thought that wouldn't traumatize me, I never learned.
"No honey you don't understand! You have to listen ....ry word, and .....!"
"Mom the phone is dying, I'll remember. I love you and dad! See you as soon as I can!"
And the call dropped. No bars anymore.
"sorry should have warned you; Cell phones don't work within a certain distance of the tower, and we just hit it. you get what your mom was trying to say?"
"She was telling me not to trust the words of a demon."
"Good advice."
"yes but really predictable, I mean it's stuff you tell kids at the same time you're teaching them to look both ways and not to talk to strangers. Of course mom is insane, so she may just be forgetting things again."
"Maybe, don't discount it just yet. May save your soul."
"I hope you're kidding."
She looked me full in face before pulling her hood back up over her head. Not five minutes later we pulled up to the very large gate breaking the monotony of a very large fence, topped with very sharp razor wire. More army types in desert fatigues walked both sides of the fence and manned the gate. Karen passed some paperwork form the driver door pocket to the dour looking soldier in the guardhouse, and he opened the gate.
Not one second after we drove through, the gate slammed shut again We drove through the military base set around the tower in silence, I wasn't paying attention to the military housing, the drilling troops, or even the sprinkling of black robed summoners walking here and there, most without their hoods up.
No it was the close up what appeared to be a tower made up of massive red brick, at least a full city block wide at the base. Karen pulled up in front of it.
"Welcome to your new home! At least for a minimum of three months anyway."
Before I could get out, she held out her hand. I slipped my phone into it. We both got out, leaving the hum-vee right in front with the keys in it, and I opened the door for her. She led the way inside the cool interior, which surprisingly looked a lot like a combined office building and dormitory, both prefabs.
It was almost amusing how soulless and impersonal it all looked. At least the lighting was bright; I had almost expected rush torches, and cold dank stone walls.
I was led to the left hand side, which were apparently apartments. Sure enough, each door was marked, 1-100.
"This is the first block; there are four more. You're not the first here, but I managed to get you a lucky number apartment. Number 66!"
she handed me a key. Her hood was down again.
"Where did Thor go?"
"Back to his own apartment in hell. We don't keep our demons out when there is no need for them."
"So at the school?"
"Policy, schools with us there have been hit in the past."
"people are scary. Explains why I didn't see any outside."
"Almost. There are guards here, they use theirs on shift. Here."
She handed me a black phone. I didn't recognize the make.
"The push to talk is active. Use it with the number 1, and it calls me. Go ahead and find your room, check to see if everything you need is there, all that moving in crap. I need to check in myself. You call, I'll meet you in front of your door. Got it?"
"crystal clear."
"Great. See you soon."
And she walked off, leaving me to my own devices...or seemingly, till I noticed the cameras cleverly hidden in the ceilings. So rather than explore I found the correct number and entered. Doing what I was told like a good little drone beat the alternative, I was sure. It was indeed an apartment, with modestly tasteful furnishings and real wood molding. The couch and chair were both grey and overstuffed. A desk was randomly tucked into a corner with a comfortable looking computer chair next to it. There was a was kitchen straight back and a door to my left.
Opening it I found the bedroom, a pretty standard single bed sheathed in grey, as well as the typical bureaus and shelves for various items. An open door led to the bathroom, which was white and clean enough to shine in blinding fashion. going back to the desk I found a notepad and pen, and started getting down to business.
***********************************************
*chirp* "Hope I'm not interrupting Karen."
*chirp* "Just talking with my boss. You all set?"
*chirp* "Yep, you're team is surprisingly thorough; I couldn't find much missing."
*chirp* "They have done this sort of thing many times, But they always seem to forget something. I'll be right down, got to give you the grand tour anyway."
I waited patiently, pacing. It took just under fifteen minutes for the knock I was expecting. I opened the door to see Karen standing there alone.
"The base has an excellent military store, and you get a stipend. Here is your card, don't lose it. It's a pain in the butt to get another."
She handed me black debit card, with a series of numbers on it and nothing else. I was beginning to sense a trend here. She left, I followed, locking the door.
"Cautious type are you? Might work out here."
"I see no reason to make it easier for someone to screw me over."
"I'm with you. So what did they forget?"
"Well they guessed at least one size of clothes right, so I put the rest on the clothes rack in the bedroom as requested, and put the ones that fit away. Not so sure what I need seven sets of grey robes for, but I'm sure youll tell me. The soap they provided makes me break out, so I need to replace it, and they forgot dental floss."
"...Dental floss?"
"Yes, dental floss. they have a good mouthwash, but I like to be thorough."
"You must be all kinds of fun at parties."
"Absolutely. I'm like a rabid weasel at a party."
"...What?"
"Sorry, old joke among my circle of friends. I might explain it later if you do something for me."
"And what is that, exactly?"
"Explain to me why there is no television, computer, or even radio in that small apartment you're housing me in?"
"That's simple; the higher ups feel the undistracted approach to learning is best. Can't have any of that crap till you subdue your very own demon."
"That's...asinine. They want me to study in perfect silence?"
"Or get out and do something else useful with your time. Remember, you're in the army now, drafted and everything."
"Oh, right...we are technically under the army. Do I have a rank?"
"Yep, officially you're an 'acolyte'. That's what the robes are for. the actual army rank is specialist, or OR-4. You're very first day it takes a sergeant or better to order you around, seniority doesn't count. The minute you graduate, assuming you do, you jump to lieutenant. Of course, after that it depends."
"Depends on?"
"What the higher ups think of your performance. Do badly, and you're a grunt. You get three more months of boot camp, a promotion to first lieutenant, and sent to one of the fronts. That's a bad idea, since only 1 out of 3 summoners sent to a front make it home alive. Do really well, you'll likely be kept stateside and used in work like recruiting."
"Or police work?"
"Oh that sort of thing interest you? Yeah you can get police work if the brass feel you're suited for it."
Our conversation had eaten up our walking time; we were at the store. don't the army call them Px's? Anyway there we were, a store laughingly called 'Spells-R-us', looking much like a local walmart, in smaller scale.
I walked in and there was even a greeter. A man in military fatigues and a floppy hat, looking like a Gandalf reject, snowy beard and all.
"You gotta be kidding me."
"Hah, that's just Ralph, the owner. Retired captain.'She leaned closer and muttered; 'Doesn't really have all his marbles."
I waved to him and muttered back; "You think?"
"He's harmless enough; just don't get him talking about Harry Potter."
"you mean that pollyanna crap kid's story that says you can do magic without demonic help, and beat demons at their own game? Shudder worthy garbage."
"Agreed. Had a huge spike in morons getting themselves killed playacting magic after the movies. Kept trying to fight demons off with twigs and Latin. But Ralph, he loves the stuff."
"Let's get what we came for and get out; place already gives me the willies and I still need that tour."
"Sure thing. I won't even shop for myself, I'm so considerate."
"Why would you shop here? you don't live here do you?"
"No, only seasonally, like now...got a furnished apartment here in the tower, much like yours. But...this shop sells everything on the cheap, and what they don't carry they can order."
I started walking buy and snagging useful stuff, like coffee, assorted perishables that weren't stocked, and other things.
"So you mentioned Latin. I could have sworn I heard Latin during the ritual used to select me."
"you did, not saying Latin isn't used, it's one of the languages that rituals were translated in. We could probably do English if anyone cared to, but that just increases the chance others will overhear what you said....with unfortunate consequences. You'll know at least some Latin before you leave."
"Good to know."
Seeing a selection of metal stabby implements, I added a survival knife to the growing pile. Karen let it pass without comment, or even a raised eyebrow. We finished and I paid with my shiny new card.
"Yo Ralph!"
"Yes Karen?"
"This is acolyte Melvin. He just bought these bags. Would you be so kind as to watch them while we tour? We will be back to pick them up before we tour the tower."
"Certainly Karen, enjoy the fresh air. Not too many days left before the birth of the death of hope."
....What?
"...Right. Anyway, we'll be back later."
I barely made it out of the store.
"Guy might be worse than my mom."
"Well I don't know about your mom, but I know what happened to him. For most people, seeing demons causes their minds to unhinge. Prolonged exposure worsens the effect, by some multiple I'm not math whiz enough to know. The stronger demons can literally have someone gibbering and pissing themselves inside an hour due to their presence alone. Ralph was at the front for a long time...too long, but we didn't always know what we know now."
"Sucks to be him."
We chatted while she showed me the highlights; the barracks, the training yard, the fence, the mess hall. Outside the fence was 200 miles of desert. The land was flat, you could see for miles away.
then we grabbed the stuff I bought and went back to the tower, where I learned they where the library, work rooms, our own mess hall were. There were even public rest rooms near them. This place was too big...heck the library alone covered half a block, and went up three floors. All those banned and forbidden books....
I'd gotten a jump on that at least. With nothing to do in this place but read, I'd grabbed a starter set, so to speak; English translations of 'The Various Mysteries', 'The Virulent Truth', and Latin for dummies. I'd almost checked out 'summoning for dummies', but that was a bit too much for my personal weirdness meter.
"OK, last thing. Starting tomorrow, you're in the army. You got here early, so today was free. But tomorrow you're going to be expected to wear the robes, be up at 5am, all that crap. you'll be in classes most of the day; they are going to try and cram your head full. So set your alarm, and be prepared for more school."
"Will do. Five a.m. huh? stupid."
I shut and locked the door, and settled in to read.
*******************************************
So five a.m. bright and early saw me showered, made presentable, and dressed in standard fatigues with a robe over them. I was one of very few dressed thus, which added to my anger. Honest to dog drill sergeants walked among the 120 or so of us present, taking us in with hard eyes and disdainful expressions. Then an older gentlemen with a sour lemon expression, a heavily decorated robe, and a body showing through that robe that would make Arnold Schwarzenegger nervous walked up to a podium set in front of us all.
"Good morning maggots!' He had no microphone, nor did he need one. I fought the urge to stick my fingers in my ears, standing as straight as possible. 'Welcome to the glorious united states army! As stated in federal law, as of 1959 a federal draft is in effect for all persons with the skills and or abilities required to defend our glorious country from demonic incursion, as well as halt the spread of demonic influence among the allies of the glorious United States of America!
To that end, you have all been drafted, in accordance with federal and local laws! You're my fresh meat now, and a member of the Summoners Corps! You will refer to it as such; the first person calling another a warlock, witch, or other derogatory term will be cleaning heads for a month! The next will clean toilets Till they die, and will then clean Hell's toilets for all eternity!
Now you may ask yourself why you? Well that's simple. You worms stand on the backs of giants! Heroes of humanity the likes of which our world will not see again! Let's all take that walk into history book lane, shall we? in 1945, the closing months of world war 2, a psychotic gasbag known as Adolf Hitler ruled Germany, and had led the German country to it's own demise. But that wasn't enough for the Aryan scum.
You see Hitler was fascinated by the occult. Perhaps obsessed would be a better term. Unfortunately for humanity at large, in his scavenger hunts for relics and lore, he found some real gems among the crap he collected. So when the allies were winning he got the bright idea to use them. He took his most fanatical SS, taught them what are now known as the rudiments of summoning, and set them loose. As the allies reached the outskirts of Germany, the first known summoners, true warlocks who had sold their souls to the lords of hell, opened a full gate to hell in order to stop them.
It succeeded; but only after the demons were done massacring every German man woman and child left in the city. The time they spent on that saved the allies, as it was time needed to pull out. You see the allies learned early on that normal weapons did absolutely nothing to demons but slow them down. A massive half year long was holding action was instituted. Hundreds of thousands died to ensure the encroaching horde from hell gained as little ground as possible in strength.
At the end of that time, we had erected the wall; a wall similar to the great wall of china, spanning the heartland of Germany. We had to cede it to the enemy; the gate was still active. At this time, special forces from many countries performed suicide missions into Berlin to discover how the gate had been opened, and how demons were summoned and fought. Wise men from other countries stepped up and added to the overall knowledge of how to fight. This knowledge was added in the form of protection charms and runed weapons, and we began to hold rather than just lose.
Then the first summoners came to the line, even as the Poland threatened to break, and France was invaded. They helped more than anything else. We began regain what we had lost, and it looked like our children might never know the horrors we had seen! However, those first summoners, those heroes, fell one by one to crippling madness or, their souls devoured by the very demons they pacted with, slowly twisted and became that which they hated most. Some however took much longer to fall than others. In some cases, decades longer. And we learned, as humanity is wont to do.
Some of us, whether by nature, nurture, or both...are more resistant to the sirens' call of power, the lure of hell. Some of us are immune to the madness that besets others. That is why we have the selection, and the draft! So that you few, you lowly worms, can stand on the backs of hose giants, and finish what they started! Nothing less than the fate of humanity itself will be decided by your actions.
Now on to brass tacks. You are drafted. that is reality. Your butts are ours for 10 years, the duration of the draft. After which you can rejoin civilian life where you left it, rich as lords and sipping mai-tai's in Tahiti...or you can rejoin the fight. It all depends on you, the world will be your oyster by 29.
Look to your right, then your left. There will be no racism in my beloved Corps, to me you are all equally worthless! You are here to learn, and learn hard! you're only concern is the skills you need to save your lives, and the lives of your friends and loved ones. Keep in mind that no matter where you are, no matter what hole you die in, you are the last stand for humanity in a hostile world; any act you take from now on directly affects who lives or dies! The only distinction made in my Corps is Summoner, soldier, or civilian. You are the elite, the cream of the crop...should you succeed. Should you fail, nothing more than death and an unmarked grave awaits you, your soul feeding hell's own death machine.
The circumstances of life and death are dire for you, so that the rest of humanity survives. Do not forget. That is all."
....What could you say to that? The various sergeants gathered us up one name at a time, arranging us into squads while the commander in chief and living legend of the Summoners corps calmly walked out.
(tbc)
Now normally, I am a young man of iron resolve and nerve of steel.
But Today, I, like many of my classmates, I was nervous almost to the point of throwing up. Three months of 10 hour cram sessions, practical lessons(where demons were summoned in front of our squads), and learning various ecletic bits of esoteric formulae from over a dozen different ancient civilizations ( one wonders how they learned this stuff...I mean, who taught them?).
Also the visits with psychologists and psychiatrists (mental health was deemed a priority, so extensive files were written about us all...reams of paper no one was every likely to really read.) The pt with the cadets being trained as grunts for the war effort (in my case alone, I remained the only one of our class able to run 5 miles with them without puking my guts out, robes or no...and We all had free run of the outside, after all, where were we to go?)Led to this day; or night, more specifically.
Conjuring night, where all would be acolytes either summoned and bound their demon, failed and got nothing (and were sent to the front as shock troops...the knowledge learned here being deemed too useful to waste) or failed spectacularly and got their souls eaten, and bodies killed. The living rooms of our apartments had their furniture moved, and the rugs rolled up to reveal the surprise of our very own personal summoning circle. Enochian glyphs of demon
binding carved into tablets of stone sealed the rooms from hostile exits by demonic forces.
Nothing stopped them from getting in of course.
Tonight all 482 of us would at once, try to summon a demon each. tomorrow our own instructors would open our apartments should we fail to come out, to usher the failures out or destroy the victorious demons where they stood.
But for now, it was a time of rest, we had the day off; we could do whatever we liked...until midnight.
"Hey there Melba!"
Of course even here wasn't safe from the behaviour of morons, mystical acedeme or no.
"Why hello Justin. How's life treating you?"
Justin Bell was 6 ft 2, handsome, blond haired and brown eyed...and he knew it. He'd been cited 3 times for sneaking into female summoners' apartments; 3 different female summoners' apartments...and this was widely cited as the reason he didn't make squad leader. I of course knew better....his grades were near the top of the class, but not quite good enough. that honor belonged to his sidekick, Harry Trudeau, the victim of many Harry Pothead jokes.
I was sitting in the mess, which doubled as our day room or socializing room with our squad leader and a few people from squad 3 (we were squad 6). Our squad leader was Terrence Jones, a no nonsense farm boy from Illinois. I would lay odds he would be a drill instructor and staff sergeant before the year was out...if he survived tonight.
"I don't get it, why do you keep calling him 'Melba'?" He asked Justin.
He wasn't all that bright though.
"Because it's a type of toast, and so is Melvin. Can't you just spot the loser waves coming off him?"
Terrence's thick face scrunched up in real anger.
"No, and if you don't stop talking shit, I'm going to bust your ass. Sarge will let me too."
Justin backed down. I think he suspected me of telling on him during one of his midnight trysts..I did see him, but I didn't care and didn't need to say a word; I mean really, did he really not notice the cameras the entire time he was here? Either way it wasn't enough for him to start something then get his teeth kicked in; we both knew Terrence meant it.
"So, want dealt in? I was just about to leave."
Just call me peacemaker.
"Um sure, what are you playing for? Still quarters?"
"Yep, knock yourself out."
"where you going?" Terrence asked as I got up.
"where else? out. then some last minute studying."
"OK man, later."
I walked out, and out of the tower, at my best nonchalant speed. Even so Karen caught up to me before I'd gone more than 20 steps though the door. I didn't know why, but she seemed to consider me a project of hers, acting as a mentor of sorts whenever possible; it didn't surprise me she had today off, she probably asked for it three months ago when she brought me in.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
"Just thinking about where I'll end up."
A little white lie; I was thinking more about the summoning itself and what she told me when I asked about it. I knew I'd be playing that tape again in the privacy of my own apartment.
"You know, Terrence was disappointed when you didn't make squad leader. He marched right into the colonels office and told him he was making a mistake, that you were better suited."
I began listening to my surroundings again.
"Oh really? So then why was I passed over?"
"Seems someone noticed a tail when they were brought in, someone has been checking our defenses, and still getting to know our people. That same someone has aced every course and practical application exercise involving manhunts, demon hunting, and law enforcement. So there really wasn't any choice in the matter; our best student in squad 6 just isn't slated for an active front line army role...or rather they are too qualified."
"That seems like an oxymoron to me."
"It does? Then consider this bright boy...America is on a water locked continent. the gate is across a sea, and yet demons have been appearing here and there on our soul, Canada, and Mexico in ever increasing numbers. How? shouldn't America's own best and brightest be working on such a problem? Or even solving other such problems for other countries while people perfectly qualified to hold the various fronts yet are not qualified to solve such problems do so?"
"Point taken, I guess...just seems like we're sending people off to die."
Yes there was a definite we there now. I still didn't like it, but no one could ever really escape the draft. Best we could do was try to live through it.
"We are. We got no choice. Almost half of my class that survived to be sent to the front is dead now. I'm the lucky one, and I have to deal with that. We all do, if we survive. The best we can do is try to solve the problem once and for all; close the gate in Germany, and annihilate every demon currently on the planet."
"A tall order."
"we owe them no less."
"So... you said out of those that survived. Been meaning to ask you, how many didn't? what's the percentage?"
"Under 10%...out of 1000 people, only 40 died that night, and fewer than that failed."
She never sugar coated it for me, I liked that about her. Reminded me of my dad.
"Well...some died because they made a mistake in checking the circle. If so much as a hair breaks it, the thing is useless. Some just flat out got out bargained, forgetting elemental things; possibly out of fear, not sure. And some, well...the Demon have ranks, as you know. A definite hierarchy. The elite of hell are so far beyond the normal run of the mill demon it scares the piss out of me, emotional extreme or not.
Consider Thor....hes one of the elite, but the lowest rung. He can take out a good pack of those demon dogs you saw in your burger joint. But hes minor; a strong enough vassal of a minor lord. When you summon, you bargain to make a contract. The more powerful the demon, the more it can cost. The current theory is, that some demons are so strong that it takes such a strong individual that the costs asked for in some cases are too high for the soul, and it breaks under the strain.
Added to that is the fact that summoners feel it when their demons are present; Thor feels like a constant sickness in my mind, an oily malaise that I can feel in the back of my head. Other summoners feel the same. It causes the mind to break, and the theory on that is the weak mind can snap right off. Just another of the problems our best are trying to help solve with their sexy minds."
"A bit over my head."
"True, but you and I are more the action oriented thinkers; we involve ourselves in practical problem solving."
"Oh we do, do we?"
"Yep!"
We left the compound, and I started jogging around the fence. Karen kept pace easily at first, but started to lag after the first lap. She stopped and waited while I did 5.
"you didn't have to wait." I told her once I stopped, panting.
She handed me a canteen, about half full of water.
"I wanted to impart one last bit of advice to you. Get a good nap before your summoning tonight. It helps to be clear headed and awake...and don't drink to much, you do not get a potty break during the ritual."
"And I assume the pee would break the circle?"
"Well it can, given the right circumstances....like a demon canny enough. Liquids don't normally cause containment loss to an engraved circle."
"Alright well, thanks for taking the time Karen, think I'm going to review my notes and preparations."
"Alright, take care. See you tomorrow, k?"
"Sure thing."
While the Corps had summoning down to an mass produced art, each summoning was actually an individual affair. Little things like the type of chalice used, or the amount of blood sacrificed, or even the language used for the chant made a difference and couldn't help but be altered a little from person to person based on temperament. After all, we weren't all trying to summon the same demon...just in general get demonic attention and see what answered.
Hey, I thought it sounded stupid too. Most of us did, but it made a certain amount of sense.
I bought a few drinks (green tea) and went back to my apartment to review my notes and recheck my calculations.
******************************************************************************************
I woke up at 11, right on time, and set about rechecking my preparations. The circle was complete, I brushed it with a whisk broom to make sure nothing was obstructing or breaking it. I set the chalice, the candles, and the ritual dagger I'd be using in their proper places. And reviewed my notes - again. We had been told that if nothing responded in six hours, we had failed. Reports of demons coming after the third hour were scarce, and therefore unlikely.
Everything had already been checked by an experienced summoner (Karen in my case, of course.) and pronounced as up to par, even with my little additions. The clock struck 12 as I was lost reading, and I almost missed my mark. Slitting my hand and allowing the blood to flow into the chalice, I began with the standard chant, then added my own appeal:
"Ego capto socius phasmatis pro succurro!"
Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. After nearing an hour, I wanted to just stop and wash out. I was bored out of my skull, and my throat was already getting raw. My surprise when the clock chimed the hour and the blood red sulfurous smoke spewed out of the center of the circle was total. My eyebrow raised however, when the smoke resolved itself, not into a bal rog or imp or other such horrific apparition, but a dapper looking possibly middle aged
man.
He was rather tall, perhaps as tall as Justin, perhaps a trifle more. He had grey hair, not the grey hair of age, but of a pigeons' feathers; uniform and a strange color for hair. He had a rugged but refined look to him, as if he were used to the outdoors or sports, without being large or imposing. He was obviously nonhuman however, with large jet black feathered wings and red eyes.
The stories were right; just by standing there he scared the hell out of me.
His eyes tracked and he saw me right as I finished the last refrain of the chant; breaking it off in the middle would have been bad.
"Well....a hairless ape finally had the guts to try summoning me. Well done human; release me and I'll show my appreciation."
"Don't bother. I am not that stupid. Your name? I'll settle for your use name."
"You think to make me bow, scum? I bow to no man, nor will I ever serve a human. Go back to your mud hut and play with your pet rocks."
"You WILL serve me. You must answer, demon! I compel you! Reddo!"
If anything, he appeared to lean back as he grinned, exposing sharp predator teeth, perfectly pointed and likely perfectly sharp.
"I am the duke of hell known as Grex, little monkey. And your name?"
the texts were of two minds about giving out your own name. Legends said that some demons could compel you through name alone. However, recent experience of other summoners suggested otherwise; that demons could gain some power over you by knowing your name, but not that power. That is, if they knew your name.
"My name, or as much of it as you should know now...is Melvin. You said you're a duke of hell?"
"Indeed! I am regent of the crags of despair, in the ninth circle."
He looked at me expectantly.
"Sorry, never heard of it...or you."
I couldn't resist; most demons have huge egos. He didn't rise to the bait, however. With a long suffering sigh he replied.
"Of course, it's to be expected; what do your parents teach their children nowadays? No time for the classics, like who eats them in the night. Well, let's get down to business, as my boss would say. What do you want, mortal?"
"For your kind to stop coming through the gate and killing my kind, and for you all to go home?"
"A worthy ambition, but alas, I cannot command all my brethren...most just simply follow other masters."
But not all, good to know.
"Then I'll settle for you, serving and protecting me to the best of your ability from all enemies and potential hurts of any dimension or reality while I carry out that aforementioned task and the full complete and unrestricted access to your power, commonly called magic by us humans. Both for as long as I feel I require it."
"So you want the complete unrestricted servitude of myself, and the access to all powers of a ruler of the ninth circle of hell, do I have that correct Melvin? I just want to be clear here."
I thought it over...I didn't see any way that could be misconstrued...after all he was the only ruler of the ninth circle, wasn't he?
"Who rules the ninth circle of hell?"
"Ahh, you ARE paying attention. I do of course, and you're correct in your suspicions. I am the only ruler of the ninth circle of hell; I do not share the seat with anyone."
"Do you serve anyone?"
"Everyone in hell serves someone. I serve the Boss directly, don't make me say his name, it won't end well for you, and I won't have nearly as much fun...and I serve the Lady of lost hope, grand duchess of hell and one of the fabled 20 generals of the end."
Another thing to file away for later...like tomorrow, when I beat answers out of this guy. His aura was beginning to anger me more than frighten me.
"Alright so what is your price for what I'm asking?"
"The price for my wonderful service and power? Hmm, I wonder. I don't suppose you'd be willing to part with your soul, would you?"
"No, not even a little bit of it."
"Ahh, such a shame, such a shame. Well the standard price for services after souls is years off your life. Ten at least in this case...for my services alone under a standard contract, not nearly the all encompassing loophole free contract you desire.That doesn't even cover my magic. I could see myself agreeing to ten years however if say...you'd sweeten the deal."
"With what precisely?"
"Your first name."
"My what?"
"Your first name; names have power silly mortal. Your parents chose a name to express your essence. I want your first name. In response, you get a new first name of my choosing. Something to better express the new you, and I keep the energy gained from you willingly giving such a thing up."
"what will that do? Speak truthfully; reddo!"
"It won't hurt you in any way. Your form wont be altered from it, nor can I alter your form with it. I cannot compel you, nor coerce you to do anything you do not wish to do with it. It is, after all, when the cookie crumbles, only a name. And does not a rose by any other name smell as sweet?"
"What can you do with it?"
His look soured a moment before he was all smiles again.
"Not much; I can slightly alter your perceptions and attitudes with the proper name, making you more...yourself. Let's be honest, Melvin does not suit you at all."
"Honesty is appreciated. Let me think on it."
"Take all the time in the world available Melvin, but be warned that I can and will eat you in 4 hours, 30 minutes, 19 seconds."
So I thought, hard. Everyone pays a price for this, and I had either had the best or worst luck, depending on how you looked at it. The chance to bring an actual ruler of hell itself into the fight...for our side. In all our studies we had determined only 4 summoners for the allies had managed to summon anything stronger than a count of hell.
Gerald Cross, a world war 2 former marine and summoner during the subsequent conflicts, had summoned Thrak, a baron of the 6th circle of hell. He managed to keep France from getting overrun largely on his own during the 50's till of course, his untimely death.
The other was the current commander of the Summoner Corps, 4 star general Xander Stone; he and his summon Thrall are living legends...mainly due to the fact that unlike most people nowadays, he was a lifer to the corps. The other two were classified.
Could I stand being 28 and known as something embarrassing in order to bring such an ace to our side? The circle ensured his honesty; he could not lie.
Now I'm not really a risk taker by nature...I didn't think. But the other concern was failure. Once started you had one chance at a demon; no other would answer your call. Common courtesy among demons, so to speak. However that meant if I turned him down I was going to the front sans any protection; just some scatter-shot learning and a runed weapon against thousands or more demons.
As desperate as the demon was not to be in the circle come morning, I was just as desperate. I was steady however. I'd always prided myself on my ability to compartmentalize emotion; it led to a killer poker face.
The last consideration was...Grex was being reasonable. The costs of what demons charged for their services were cataloged as a matter of course; sort of a demonic price guide. Grex's prices were a bit on the high side, but then he was a valuable commodity, and he knew it.
"3 hours 39 minutes 22 seconds, mortal."
I grinned. I was damned if I did, and damned if I didn't, just like everyone doing this before me.
"I'll do it."
He grinned back.
"In the interest of clarity again, I am charging you your first name and my aforementioned fee for my services and the magic of the ruler of the ninth circle of hell."
I considered...since his aforementioned fee had a number on it, a cap...he couldn't take all my years. I could stand being 28 and retiring before 40.
"I accept."
His grin broadened alarmingly and his aura or whatever it was got worse in an instant. Then he flowed over the circle as if it didn't exist and smothered me.
(tbc)
I was floating on cloud nine. City's sweet sixteen had just ended, her parents had gone to bed...and the guest room was at the other end of the house. She was wearing a pink chiffon dress that made her look younger, vulnerable, and I had on my one tuxedo. Both families had gone all out to celebrate.
But of course we had our own ideas on how to celebrate.
"I'm ready for my real gift now Mel..."
She whispered in a breathy whisper, shucking off her dress in a move she must have practiced, for maximum speed and effect. Not to be outdone, my Tux flew in all directions. She smirked at my noticeable underwear tent as I gawked like a rube at a fair before her revealed majesty.
"And here I was worried about your size...."
"My dear Felicity, you wound me! I come from a long line of 3 legged men."
I jumped her, gently tackling her to the bed. I did not want to hurt her tonight of all nights, but I couldn't wait any longer. She giggled as I took her underwear off, her small hands sliding my boxers off. I leaned into her, enjoying her warmth, nuzzling her neck and running my hands across her smooth hard chest....
Wait a minute. Hold the phone.
I ran my hands across the form I was lying on again. I had no tension in my muscles, lying completely on top of this person, my chest squished against theirs. My hands roved across firm abs, and toned muscular pecs...
Something was very wrong here. Opening my eyes revealed a pitch black room.
I shifted a little, it took more effort than I was used to, and some of the warmth went away. I mourned it's passing briefly; I was very cold. Then the answer came. My chest...was squished against someone else's.
My chest should not squish. As I shifted again, it occurred to me, my right leg was wrapped around the other persons' left...and shifting that leg brought
to mind a series of sensations I should be having...but didn't. Meanwhile my chest continued to squish.
"Whatthefuck?!?"
My voice was several octaves higher. One hand snaked to my crotch to find only air and smooth silk; reaching a bit further found a cleft I could feel through the cloth, a faint press brought the faintest hint of moisture from within and a rather pleasant sensation. My other hand had found the source a warm soft cantaloupe attached to my chest also sheathed in silk, with a hard, erect and large nipple.
Arms snaked around me, once more burying me in the foreign chest with a silent squish.
"Good morning master. You were having pleasant dreams I see."
I knew that voice.
"Grex, what the hell?!?"
I tried to push up, but I could only squirm. I could almost see his grin in the dark. Unsufferable bastard.
"How do you feel master? "
"Pretty confused. Why am I female?"
"Because you bargained poorly master."
"Damn you let me up! You will give me a straight answer!"
His hands immediately let go and I sprang up and away, making one full step before getting dizzy and beginning to fall. Somehow he caught me before I hit the ground.
"I protect you from all hurts possible, as ordered. You are chilled, I warm you. You fall, I catch you. Our bargain holds master, there is no reason for distress."
Before I knew it I was on the bed again.
"I told you When you summoned me. 'I bow to no man'. I also stated clearly that the standard price was years off your life. I in no way stated it was my actual price."
I stared at him aghast. How could I have missed that?!? With one glossed over phrase which I took to be a boast...I had completely ruined what little bit of my old life I could have gone back to. There was nothing for me now.
"Now for the other part of my price my dear master... I name thee Maeve."
I found myself laying down, head on my pillow, mind swimming. My thoughts had scattered like so many startled birds, my train of thought derailed. Everything came back into focus for me to find Grex hovering above me, watching me with something that could be mistaken with concern.
My first real thought was to wonder where his wings had gone. He saw my eyes start to track him and smiled down at me.
I must have been incoherent for some time; there was some light in the room now, revealing that there was something wrong with my eyes. They were perceiving colors differently, though I couldn't put my finger on it.
"Slowly my master, much has changed for you. Small steps."
I could do this. I had to do this. It was forward or die, and had been since the selection. I took a few deep breaths...getting angry. These stupid huge appendages glued to me! They shifted in uncomfortable ways, with every breath. A thought surfaced.
"what time is it?"
"It is 5:43 a.m. master, roughly."
I got up, taking more care this time. Everything kept shifting and moving differently, it was frustrating. I felt like a child learning to walk.
"More hip movement, master."
"...What?"
"Your center of gravity is different, your weight redistributed. You need to swing your hips more in order to walk properly as a female."
I glared at him for a bit, then tried again.
"Much better; Soon it'll be second nature."
I headed to the bathroom, grabbing one of my robes on the way.
"How do you feel, master?"
"Other than the obvious, my back aches."
"I see, that should pass. Your musculature is still not fully formed as yet."
"that why it's taking such effort to move?"
Sitting down to pee was going to get old. The seat was cold!
"Very likely."
Still feeling moisture I used toilet paper to wipe it away. Yep, very annoying.
"So when should that pass?"
"By the end of the day."
I stood looking in the mirror. It wasn't full length, but it was good enough. I'd guess I lost about 4 inches in height. now standing around 5ft 7in. My hair was a wild pure snow white mane that fell in thick waves past my shoulders, my skin was purest alabaster. Bright red eyes were set in a heart shaped face sporting delicate features that brought my mother to mind. My nose had a slight upturn that hers did not.
My new breasts were simply enormous, and my hips were wide enough to land a helicopter on. I had been dressed in a sky blue nightie or something; all silk and lace.
My robe...wouldn't fit. I simply could not get it over my huge melons, it was some synthetic cloth that wouldn't stretch, and the robe wasn't large enough to accommodate my new curves.
"You're going to have to help me Grex."
"What is the problem?"
He approached as I came out of the bathroom.
"You'll either have to make me smaller or make the robe bigger. Only clothes I have that I have a chance of fitting in, and time is wasting."
"Somewhere you need to be master?"
"Ready to receive visitors in under 10 minutes or we both may well die, yes."
He raised an eyebrow. OK it wasn't quite a lie, but he didn't need to know that!
"Hold your robe up to yourself."
I did so...and he did something, the robe started melding to me, bleeding color. As I watched it formed into a dress around me, some sort of blood red goth style affair, trimmed heavily in black. I raised my eyebrows when the fingerless gloves and boots simply bled into existence. I looked under the dress on a hunch, and saw the black mesh stockings as well.
"Useful trick, but your style sucks."
"You don't like what I offer, do it yourself; you have the power. Ah, that reminds me!"
He approached me again and I backed away.
"What are you plotting? stay back!"
"Calmly master, I must do this to protect you. You compelled me to see to your welfare, remember?"
He grabbed me gently and pulled something out of his suit pocket.
"What are those?"
"Charms of protection and power seals."
He cupped my hand and I felt a tug at my ear; a painful pinch.
"Ouch, jerk! What are you doing!"
"They are earrings master. A tiny sting and they are inserted. The pain will fade, and you will be protected; from enemy attacks, and from your own new found power destroying you before I can train you."
Ignoring my protests he held me and stuck me five more times. I wobbled to the bathroom after he let me go. Standing in front of the mirror I saw six new holes; 3 per ear...one each in my lobes, and 2 near the top of each ear. What caused those holes were small silver rings, with some sort of engraving on them. The holes had already gone pleasantly numb. Leaning closer to see the runes I got dizzy again and almost fell.
Which meant Grex caught me again.
"You tell me again, speaking nothing but the truth; What are these for?"
"2 of them are charms of protection, designed to protect the bearer from physical and magical harm. Both will make you severely resistant to damage of any kind. The other 4 are to prevent your own powers as a lord of hell from running out of control and burning you to ash."
"They make me feel even weaker."
"I know. That too will pass."
Grex hovered as I walked slowly into the kitchen, the pain from my ears and oddly enough my back fading in between steps. I grabbed one of the green teas I had bought what seemed a lifetime ago when a knock sounded at the door.
"Melvin? You survive?"
I took a long pull from the tea.
"Isn't that your door master?"
"Answer it, it's Karen but she's looking for someone else. Must be at the wrong door or something."
He grinned at me, showing his teeth this time.
"No my master, You have forgotten your old name. You must make the effort to remember, at least for some time to come."
Oh, shit, he was right. That might mean I was declared late. He opened the door before I could yell at him.
"...Melvin?"
She was looking at Grex as she said it, she spared me a quick glance. Grex gave her another one of his toothy grins as I walked slowly up.
"It's Maeve now. Good morning."
She looked between the two of us a few times...then she started to laugh.
"Every class has at least one; I never expected you to be the one to trade their masculinity though! you just didn't seem the type." She exclaimed, wiping her eyes.
"Damn it, it's not like that!Shut the door at least."
She did, getting serious.
"Alright, so this is you're demon. what happened? You shouldn't be able to open the door with a demon summoned in here right now; he shouldn't have been able to open it at all."
"I can open it easily madame, however walking through the threshold might be a fun challenge." Grex opined.
I squirmed under her 'hairy eyeball' stare.
"I'm not compromised, as far as I can tell. As for why he is able to, I don't know. He's been here since 1am. I've been um...indisposed for almost that long."
She took her phone out.
"Sir, we have a situation. Could you please come to room number 66, and keep your line open but speaker off."
"OK, go over the terms of your bargain, verbatim."
I told her everything the demon had said, and my responses, including my thoughts as we sat down. I heard some of the other summoners moving around outside. I rounded that out by telling her everything I remembered since then. She lost her cool to laughing fits more than once.
"So the gist of it is...you got a very good bargain, but got duped in that you didn't know exactly what the price was."
"Not sure it was worth the price; there isn't anything for me now. None of my friends or family will ever know who I am, or believe it if I told them."
"don't be too sure about that. At any rate for now the thing to worry about is who is actually wearing the pants in this arrangement."
She snorted laughter again, and nearly collapsed looking at my face.
"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist. So Maeve, is it now? You're going to have to work on that face of yours again, it's showing every emotion like an open book. Could be a liability."
I kept my hands from going to my face in an attempt to slap it into proper submission...barely.
Without preamble the door burst open and The old man himself, who I hadn't seen since the day after my arrival strode through with his demon, thrall. Immediately the tension in the room went up several notches as Grex and thrall caught sight of each other. I attempted to rise quickly.
"Sir!"
A wave of dizziness hit me just as he said: "At ease soldier."
I collapsed gratefully back into my comfy chair while he crossed the room.
"I heard it all soldier, and I must say I'm disappointed in you; we taught you better than that. You were fooled by an elementary trick, a wordplay of kindergarten levels! Why, what would..."
Grex interrupted.
"Excuse me worm...But I think I can explain this little misunderstanding."
He nodded at thrall; thrall nodded back and he continued.
"My name is Grex...yes, that Grex. Maeve had no chance to succeed in uncovering my ruse; thanks to an earlier contract, I was assured a moment of blindness when dealing with her. Part of an earlier contract price was that moment of blindness, a sort of critical lack of perception. Of course, you of all people know this. Hello again."
And he waved. The general paled a bit.
"What? What does he mean, how can that be done?"
"He means your momma sold you out, boy. You're not the first Numens Grex here dug his claws into."
"Can that even work? I mean I thought the bargain had to be between the actual parties?"
"It can if they are blood. Grex here bargained for one moment of weakness in you, the first born's life. Your momma granted it because she was young, headstrong, and knew that it offered a kind of protection; Until Grex came for his moment, you were demon free. No demon would touch another demon's property."
It began to make sense....when everyone thought I was demon marked...I really had been all along. If I hadn't already been sitting, I would have fallen. My own mother.
"You're momma bargained to exist boy...she got cheated badly. She was amazing in her way, but you...knowing what she'd done to you broke her. You however...you got fair value, better than you should have under the circumstances. I am sorry boy, I just didn't do my job well enough; had I checked the personnel reports, I could have stopped this."
Karen looked as shocked as I felt. The general himself looked every year of a hundred, apologizing to me. She muttered:
"All this time and I never knew."
A small knock sounded on the half open door, and Alice Crenshaw stepped in. Alice was a summoner attached to the psych wing of the corps; she had a small imp summons with a unique trick...it could discern truth between lies, and force others to tell the truth...or lie if Alice wanted. Her ability was too useful to risk her on the front lines. The imp caught sight of Thrall and Grex and cringed, walking inside as if it feared a whipping.
"you called for me sir?"
The general recovered in an instant, looking much younger and more vigorous instantly before turning to Alice.
"Yes alice, time to play truth or dare. That one,' He stabbed a finger at Grex. 'is your target."
"Yes sir."
I opened my mouth.
"No soldier, let her come into this unbiased."
"Alright demon, do you have a master?"
"I do, human."
"Who is it?"
"Maeve Numens, the summoner in that chair."
"When did you meet her?"
"Last night."
"Is there anything in your bargain that allows you to control her or influence her mind?"
He stared hard at the imp, who bucked up and looked back in pretty obvious defiance.
"I may of course reason with her. I cannot control her actions or thought except where her life or welfare are in danger; this is subject to interpretation by both her and myself. Should she overrule my judgement, I must abide by it. I am a part of her life now, and my mark is upon her, much as your lives are marked."
I thought about that....I hadn't seen any mark; every summoner had one, a glyph that looked like a tattoo. They formed on a variety of spots, but when I had seen myself in the mirror there wasn't a single blemish on my skin; not even old scars. The mental mark...the malaise that Karen had mentioned yesterday...didn't feel corrupting or overwhelming at all. It felt...soothing.
Well that's a disturbing revelation.
She turned to me.
"Are you being controlled in any way?"
The feeling of being forced to tell the truth was odd, I felt a sort of pulling in my mind. It was brief however, as I had no hesitation.
"No ma'am."
She did outrank me after all, and was here in an official capacity.
She looked at her imp, and her imp nodded to her.
"I think that covers your questions Sir, unless you have more?"
"No thank you Lieutenant, That covers my most of my concerns. You may go.
I tensed again as she departed.
"Most, sir?"
"Hold still soldier."
He grabbed my head and turned, staring at my ears. He tsked, put on his glasses, and looked again,twisting my head to and fro as if I were a doll he was trying to break. Grex took a step before Thrall somehow appeared in front of him. they began staring each other down as the general kept looking, oblivious.
"The earrings check out, all six of them. No hidden nasties."
He looked down at me and smiled.
"Welcome to the fold lieutenant. you're out of uniform; I suggest you correct that ASAP."
He clapped thrall on the shoulder as he let me go, and they left without fanfare.
"Well you heard the General!" Karen finally roused herself, holding out a black robe I hadn't seen her carrying.
"Um, there was a problem with that, and unless this robe is different somehow I think it'll share the issue."
She looked me up and down. then giggled.
"Yeah I can see that, you're huge! The old you was a bit of a beanpole."
"...Thanks."
"Oh don't get all huffy about it, it's a compliment! You know how many women would sell their souls to a demon to get those hooters? I'm all kinds of jealous."
"You can have them."
"No she can't,' Grex interrupted with a glare. ' but she can feel free to tell me all about these silly monkeys who would sell their souls for teats."
"No thanks!' Karen replied cheerily 'and how are you still here? you've been constantly summoned for hours. The drain should be enormous."
She jumped into my personal space, staring at me from about 3 inches away.
"You feel OK?"
"I feel fine actually. Better now than when I woke up, and feeling better by the moment."
"My master is not built as weakly as you." Grex opined as we left the relative safety of my rooms.
Karen sniffed and whirled away, a bundle of energy I could only admire; Nothing was a problem to her for long.
"Come come, to the store! There are things you will need, and you have the day off!"
She Danced around me, clearly impatient with my slow pace.
"Calm down, it'll still be there."
"Wow...dat ass. Where have you been hiding baby? I haven't seen you around."
Justin. Was he hitting on Karen? No she was too far ahead by now. I turned around, to find that Justin's roving eyes were glued directly to MY backside!
"Oh my, I'd have definitely remembered seeing you before; What's your name baby, you a new recruit? I just passed my Ritual, I could teach you how."
How could he be so stupid? there are no new recruits after a school year. It's run bi-yearly, with any leftovers from the school year being recruited in the spring.
"Justin...you're an idiot. Go away."
"Hey, that's no way to be! come on...!"
Then Grex stopped shadowing me and stepped up behind him.
"Were I you I'd listen to her, worm."
Justin turned to a full view of Grex's teeth.
He turned some interesting shades and backed away.
"Sure, no problem man...You have fun."
"Nice, Grex."
"Thank you, master."
Karen had come back.
"So what happened here, slowpoke?"
"Just Justin staring at my butt."
"Heh, awkward."
She started pulling me along, sorely testing my balance.
"Karen...."
"Yes?"
"How bad is it?"
She stopped and pulled me in a corner.
"you look great. Excepting the red eyes and white hair, you're supermodel material. Your butt isn't too big, you're hips aren't too wide, and that rack of yours will be the envy of every woman who hasn't had surgery; in short you're about as close to perfect as a human can be. You were sculpted to be pleasing to the eye, that much is obvious."
"Thank you." Grex interjected.
"Thanks. Don't know what came over me, I just felt so self conscious all of a sudden."
"Noticing the stares huh?"
"Yeah, was beginning to think something was wrong with me...that I was freakish somehow."
Hey, if you have to be female, better to be an attractive one, right?
"No problem, it happens to us all. You're definitely not freakish, even though those red eyes make you look demonic."
"Yeah, will that be a problem?"
I asked as she started pulling me along again.
"Not really. You know of the robe rule?"
"You mean the regulation that states for benefit of the public all summoners with an 'altered' appearance must appear in the robes befitting their rank at all times?"
"That's the one. The inside secret is a bit different. Summoners many times wear normal clothes, and live normal lives when off duty; at least here. The difference is if you show strange oddities due to your bargain, you're not allowed. It's robes, all the time. you're right on the edge. You can pass as simply one of those unusual humans that crops up every now and again. I'll have to ask the colonel...or the general. He likes you, you know."
"He does?"
"Sure, he didn't bust you for being out of uniform!"
"You seriously think he would? I mean extenuating circumstances, right?"
"Nah hes a real martinet when stateside. You'd have been busted. He absolutely likes you. well finally here! Let's go, let's go! Oh and dismiss Grex...he's not welcome in here unless you need him, remember? Besides you need some down time, you're really starting to worry me."
"Alright, alright. Grex go home. I'll call if I need you."
"Certainly master. See you soon."
And with a puff of acrid smoke he was gone. He was a demon, and screwed me over horribly....
So why did I feel a sense of loss when he left?
"come on!"
"Wait Karen, My balance is crap! seriously, I can hardly walk, quit pulling!"
Despite my protests she pulled me in the women's section and straight to the underwear.
"First stop!"
She went to a desk near the fitting rooms and grabbed a measuring tape.
"We have prepared for this; as I said before, always one per class."
"How many this class?"
"Not so sure actually, at least one more...you'll likely meet her later, she was checked out before you. Just as pissed as you are actually, despite the fact I think she secretly wanted it. Not sure why."
"Never can tell about people I guess."
She dragged me into a fitting room and unzipped my dress.
"Is this really necessary?"
"Yes, trust me, you want bras to fit correctly."
"so what did that other summoner you were mentioning get a hold of?"
I asked, trying to think happy thoughts while she applied the tape to my person. She wrapped it around my chest three times, then my waist, then my
hips, all while I contemplated murdering Nazis. Too bad there weren't any more.
She got a rare type of demon called a Vrock...a type of flying demon that's not quite a male harpy. OK! I think you're right!"
"Right about?"
She poked me in the chest...hard.
"These are entirely too big. 36D. You literally have the holy grail of figures for a woman. 36, 24, 36."
"Tell me about it,' I hefted them. 'they feel like they weigh 20 pounds each."
She stared carefully at them as I let them drop.
"No, more like 10 pounds each. Entirely too perky for breasts that big. Sigh, not fair at all. You, stay here. Right here. That's an order, I'll be back."
She opened the door and walked off muttering, leaving me exposed, as it were. I quickly reclosed the door, and leaned back against the wall to wait.
And I waited...and waited...and waited.
If I could have zipped myself up I'd be hunting her down by now.
"And back!"
"Got enough of the store's stock?"
She had to have about 20 bras alone, had a few different sets of fatigues, socks, and a couple packs of panties. Oh joy.
"Got to try on at least this many...don't want those beasts of yours hurting after a few hours, do you?"
"Um, no, having them pull like this is bad enough."
She made me try them all on; even the ones I thought fit fine. After each one, she gave me a contemplative poke or two, or grabbed the torture device and 'adjusted' it in such a way that the straps or cups dug into sensitive flesh. Two different packs of panties were apparently rejected once the bras were finally settled on.
After that the fatigues were a relief. I simply stripped and tried on the pants, immediately discarding two that weren't quite big enough to accommodate my hips, and one pair that was too big in the waist. The T- shirts and jackets fit fine.
"Not a big selection since we're military...you get desert or olive drab."
"I'm fine with either, can we just get out of here?"
I asked with maybe a hint of begging as I folded up that silly dress, now once again attired befitting a human in the 21st century.
"I'd suggest desert, goes better with your new colors...but olive drab is more popular in most of the places you're stationed...Wait here a bit more."
"Fine, whatever."
I spent my time looking at the different styles of military belts. there were more than I thought there would be. I grabbed two just in case I needed them later...I could do that much.
"OK, back and all set!"
I turned to see Karen with six sets of fatigues, 3 of the standard olive drab, and 3 in desert camo. she also had even more bras, and packs of 'sports bras', socks, and boots.
"Now follow me! We need a few more things!"
I groaned.
*********************************************************************
(tbc)
On my way back from the department store, my arms filled to muscular protest with clothes and various items like 'better' shampoo, hair conditioner, hair detangler (I mean, seriously, wtf? You spray crap on hair so it won't tangle?) and a box of something my mind was avoiding naming for my own mental health, Karen turned pensive and serious.
"Got a surprise for you."
"A good one I hope, not sure I'm up for another."
"Yep; your transfer went out the moment you passed inspection today; you are now officially a noob of the Anti-Demon Task force. You'll have to come back here every other weekend to continue your training, including our version of ROTC courses...sort of a delayed basic for you. And likely the other weekends will be the ADTF version of SWAT training, so you'll be really busy...."
"Karen; where am I being transferred."
"Your home town. We lost one of our demon hunters two days ago, and we didn't know any of what we learned today. So...I kind of put in transfer papers with the colonel's permission; We were both very sure you'd pass with no problems."
"It's OK, I can handle it. I mean, I don't have to deal with anyone there I don't want to, right?"
She offered a small, sickly smile.
"Right. And I'll be there! It's my rotation to help them again after all."
"they that short handed?"
"Well attrition happens, and we usually don't get many people; most go to the front. Truth told, we'd be driving back already if not for this morning. We think your demon is plotting something, though that is pretty much natural for them."
"So do I, you get no arguments there. It was quite the relief to hear him forced to admit he couldn't control me."
"For all of us. If he's telling the truth, he's quite the weapon; we could use him."
my angry reply was interrupted.
"Well well well, if it isn't Melvina! How's it going, little girl? Did you go to buy dollies?"
Justin. Again.
I turned to see him lurking behind the doorway we had just entered through in his new black robe, obviously laying in wait. Disgust painted his features with a broad brush.
"you sick little...."
And then a large fist came from nowhere as I blinked, slamming into Justin's jaw with a loud crack.
"Lieutenant Bell, you will not. EVER. say anything derogatory about the cost another Summoner paid to tame a demon in the ritual. Am I clear, 'Stumpy'?"
The speaker revealed itself as Terrance Jones, also robed and with his cowl up so that he seemed a part of the shadows he had stepped from. Justin shook his head clear as I zero'd in on something.
"Stumpy? that's a new one."
Justin went beet red, fury rolling off him in waves.
"Get him to tell you, if he will. It's his new squad nick name...the tradition is to pick something fitting. Since this morning, 'Stumpy' fits him."
"I don't get it, he's not short..."
"Squad leader Jones, you hit me. I'll see you court martialed for that!"
"Try it lieutenant Bell, and we will see what the colonel says when I tell him why. Think you'll get out unscathed when I tell him you're harassing a fellow officer over her price? Captain, what are the rules about discrimination again?"
Karen spoke up loud and clear, eyes hard as flinty jade.
"The rules are none will be tolerated, for any reason. you're dismissed Lieutenant Bell...leave before it's sergeant Bell."
He threw a sloppy salute and left without another word. For my part as he turned to me I saluted Terrance, now my superior officer.
"sir!"
"Oh stop that, we both know you should have my job. I came by after being informed of your hasty transfer...I was told the captain had you outside for some reason...."
A quick glance at the shopping bags, at Karen, and he gave a shudder. A sentiment I heartily agreed with.
"Anyway I just wanted you to know, you're still a member of my squad unless formally reassigned; we will be doing basic here, I've been informed you'll be joining us when possible. So come to me if you need anything...Snow White."
I raised an eyebrow.
"What?"
"your squad nickname; I just decided. You'll be Snow White." I sighed.
"Well I'm certainly white enough; guessing no one has given you yours yet?"
I could feel his grin through the cowl.
"No, no one has dared."
"Well I dare...Clay."
"Clay?"
"Yep, Cassius Clay...he was pretty good with his fists too."
"A moniker I could learn to live up to I guess. You win."
Karen cleared her throat.
"Guess I'm on a time table; see you later sir."
"Yes...later soldier."
Karen glanced at me as she led us away.
"We are indeed on a rather rigid time table; got to get you settled in by tonight. Guess maybe I should scrounge up seven dwarfs?"
"Can it, captain. You'll have to do."
"I'm as tall as you are."
"perhaps, but you have a most excellent dwarven beard."
She punched me in the arm as I smiled. Point to me.
*****************************************************************
Packing up actually took a bit longer than I expected, mainly because Karen insisted on giving the place a thorough cleaning and resetting the floor. She told me I'd understand when I had to move with no prior notice a few more times. Pointing out that I already had been forced to move with no notice twice didn't seem to impress her.
We left the place redolent of bleach and cleanser, and now had a total of six full boxes of crap that I'd somehow collected over the months, if you included the food I'd got from the fridge and cupboards. No way to carry it all in one trip...and I did not want to make multiple trips.
"Captain, I really don't think I want to make 3 or 4 trips carrying this crap. I mean 2 boxes full of hardbound books!"
"I agree, so what are you asking me?"
"Could you look the other way a minute while I bend a rule?"
"Um, which one?"
"Well I suddenly feel my life is being threatened. Grex, veni huc!"
A swirl of smoke and Grex was there, on one knee before me. A choking noise alerted me to the fact that Karen's mouth was open.
"...What?"
"You just summoned your demon without any blood, or an athame! you didn't use his mark or anything!"
Oh, right. In order to summon I was supposed to use a ritual dagger to pierce my mark and bleed a bit while calling on Grex. But I didn't have one.
"...I'm sorry?"
"How did you do that?"
"I just knew I could. I knew if I called he would answer."
"Quite so master; I am your servant, I now live to serve."
Karen's jaw hit the floor (metaphorically).
"but, you...and he...."
"don't worry so much about it Karen. It's a plus."
As she nodded, eyes glazed, I turned to Grex.
"Now servant, you have a very important task to perform."
"Yes master? Who do I kill in your glorious name?"
"Back pain Grex, back pain. Carry those boxes and follow us."
He looked at the boxes, and looked at me. And looked at the boxes, and looked back at me.
"Master, that's simply cruel. I approve."
"Glad you do...now chop chop, we're wasting time."
He held out his hand and traced a rune in the air which shrank the boxes just as Karen was beginning to collect herself, picking them all up and placing them in his coat pocket as Karen's eyes widened again.
"Spacial magics? You have access to those?"
"In a limited fashion yes."
"and you answered me without being forced..."
"No, I answered for my master; you simply heard it. She needs to know what I am capable of."
"right right, this is all fascinating, but we have a long drive ahead of us. So let's go!"
I tugged Karen out of the room and left the key in the lock, lugging her down the hall while Grex followed behind us.
It was good to have him back. Comforting.
*************************************************************************************
The ride back home was uneventful, each of us rather lost in our own worlds. Grex stuck around to watch for ambushes, so Thor didn't need to be summoned; just as well, I don't think they would have gotten along...though I was tempted to ask Thor what he knew of Grex. That would have to be done when Grex wasn't listening though.
It was just under two hours later, nearing 3pm when we pulled into the parking lot of the building laughingly nick named 'The Warlock historia' by the high school kids in my home town. Sort of the almost witty thing high school kids think of often.
The building in question was a simple eight story apartment building, the oldest in the city at one hundred and forty years. The actual name was 'The Wampler'...named after Efram Wampler, the man who designed and made the place. It was luxury apartment living back in the day, modeled after the large deluxe places in Chicago and New York.
I'd only been in it once, following my father as a child. I no longer remember exactly why we went here. But I still remember the building clearly; brass fixtures, genuine oak trim and accents stained a dark brown, and statues of copper, bronze and stone everywhere the eye could gaze. Truth was bit different than memory however.
The wood accents and molding were still there, as were the brass fixtures. The glass air tubes meant to carry mail to all the apartments were even still there, I could see them going up as I crossed the lobby behind Karen. There was even an old style elevator, the kind with the cage door and lever, that belhops used to be hired for. There was an abundance of plant life throughout, and the fountain complete with cherubs still merrily spitting away, was the obvious centerpiece.
Looking with an adult's eye however revealed this grand lady's glory to be well past its' prime. The brass was tarnished, with only a few bright patches to show any effort at all had been made in it's care, the glass of the tubes was cracked, the elevator was out of order, the wood had been splintered in more than a few spots due to who knows what, and the fountain ran sluggishly and showed signs of leakage.
But the worst was the elevator was currently out of order. We reached the front desk as I took it all in, and stopped in front of a man I judged to be in his 40's, with no hair on his head, eyebrows that I might have sworn were caterpillars crawling across his face, and a large build just beginning to run totally towards fat. He seemed to be one of those genuinely jolly types however, smiling broadly as he spotted us.
"Ahh Karen, welcome back, and this is our new recruit ehh?"
"I'm Maeve Numens, nice to meet you."
"Brock Bowie, no relation to David. How was your trip?"
"Uneventful,' Karen responded. 'so where do we put our noob?"
"Well there are a few spots open...."
"You will place my master in your largest, best maintained accommodations."
"Oh I will, demon? And who might you be?"
"His name is Grex, just ignore him."
He didn't. He instead walked right up to Grex and looked him over.
"Your summon is a lord?" He finally concluded.
"Yes, a duke."
"Makes sense, lords are all pretty much high maintenance. I bet he feels that if he has to server you, we should all treat you as royalty?"
Grex nodded while my eyes widened. This wasn't exactly something I had counted on, and I could see the repercussions of such a mind set from here. I'd hate to have the entire building against me.
"Maybe, but..."
He turned to me with a smile.
"No worries, we have just the place for you. Eighth floor though. Room number 806; Sorry about the elevator, it's being worked on as we speak."
I hung my head.
"No problem sir. I'll leave you to it."
Karen grabbed my arm, whispering.
"Come on, it's not that bad, the eight floor has the nicest biggest apartments in the place, it's pretty much standard policy to put those with powerful demons up there. The general himself keeps one of the suites here, room 802."
"Where do you stay while here?"
"Room 714. And don't worry about the elevator, the staff here aren't military, but they are quiet stable and do their jobs well. My bet is it'll be repaired tomorrow."
"But for now, stairs. No big, I can do stairs."
"Fair warning, we have furniture move up here and put together; the last tenant took theirs with them."
"Well since Grex wanted us in the largest apartment in the building...he can do all the heavy lifting; right Grex?"
His smile was predatory and not at all abashed.
"As you command, my master."
"Anyway,' continued Karen with one of her trademark eye rolls, 'There is a definite hierarchy among summoners. Those with strong demons are usually near or at the top of it. Some of those in this building are a bit prickly about such things, so be careful. Little sabotages aren't above our kind, no matter how dedicated we are."
"Good to know, can I opt out of playing that game?"
"Nope; you're right in your suspicion, you're already playing it. However, Brock wasn't setting you up so much as trying to keep the peace. He and his staff are civilian contractors put in a very difficult position by the government. The things he has seen...would probably even give me pause."
"How so? thought we weren't supposed to show off in front of civilians?"
"Most of the summoners in the city...are housed here. Only ones with special dispensation from the top brass in Washington get out of living arrangements like this one. Where is the one place you normally feel free to let your hair down?"
"Home, of course, I see what you're driving at."
With all the summoners here, laughing, relaxing, clowning around, settling petty disputes with each other in petty ways...being human in all it's glory, it wouldn't be odd to see civilians throughout the building getting caught in the cross fire.
"All that said of course, there has never been a demon attack, demon let loose, or terrorist attack on this building or anyone in it, and the summoner community as a whole are quite proud of that."
"Wow...not even a demented summoner?"
"Not even that; most of them just simply leave and go nuts somewhere else. Same with Halo; they won't dare attack us head on. Though that could be because this town is strictly small potatoes."
"I'll take what I can get."
We started up the steps. The strangely deserted steps.
"Place seems almost empty. The lobby at least had a few people."
"Those were mostly our plain clothes guards. Military always watches. But yeah, kinda quiet for a Friday, even if most of us would still be at work. I don't know."
We passed a few people on the stairs;a man, then two women, then two more men. They waved, we waved. Only one of the men wore a robe, the rest were in plain clothes and chatting amiable with each other; even the man that was alone. We marched on and they didn't even glance at me twice...though I felt their eyes on me the moment I passed them. Hopefully my imagination. I didn't show any of the signs of being new blood, I didn't think. Grex had kept the boxes small and in his pocket.
"Karen, does everyone know each other here?"
"Yeah we pretty much all do. Only a few hundred of us ever here, though we have some people who roam alot, like me."
"Good to know. So they did know that something was up."
"Yep! We all do, every time. After all, you're replacing someone. Everyone knows when we're short...and then we see a new face. Obvious conclusion is obvious."
That's kind of terrible in it's way. New face means someone you know, and possibly cared for, just died.
We made it upstairs without incident, and soon found ourselves walking down a hallway with peeling, yellowed wallpaper and brass light fixtures throwing small puddles of light in the gloom. The door to my new home was old, dried, and felt brittle. The key took a few tries for the lock to disengage, and the door swung open with a creak to reveal a hallway.
The hallway had a short entryway, was narrow, and the kitchen to the left, through an open threshold. The living room was empty, large, and the carpet a grungy grey that I wasn't sure was it's natural color. Beyond that was another room, in much the same state. The door to the left of this room had the bathroom, an immaculately white tiled affair with an honest to god claw footed bathtub and more brass.
To round out the place were two bedrooms, both large and of course empty. Every room save the bathroom had a skylight, and the den (?) and bedrooms had large windows. The entire place was a bit chilly and absolutely redolent of cigarette smoke.
Grex summed it all up in one sentence.
"This will not do."
"Well we're stuck here because of your words Grex, so you might as well deal."
"Not what I meant my master. You are uncomfortable here."
The suave look he shot me bothered me. It was almost like he...cared whether I was comfortable? What game was he playing?
He opened the window in the den and looked outwards. Then he stood there, hands out, as if beseeching something. It took me some time to notice, but I stared agape as the little granules of black started to swirl out of the carpet, walls, and ceiling and gather around his hands. In less than 5 minutes there was a cloud of collected dirt and grime so thick even pigpen from peanuts would be amazed.
Then it got even thicker.
The air was clear and smelled of the end of summer, the carpets were a rich cream color, and the other surfaces all sparkled by the time he chucked the warped twin balls of pure black corruption out of the window. He nodded in satisfaction while I gathered myself.
"Neat trick."
"Thank you. I trust the air is now more to your liking?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Um, you didn't hit anyone with that mess you tossed outside, did you?"
"Only the Trash receptacle placed under this very domicile."
I looked, spotting the blackened dumpster easily. I made a show of clapping my hands.
"Well that was easy. So what do we do about furniture?"
"The standard stuff is all waiting in boxes downstairs, in the basement. It should have your name on it. I had the outlet store deliver them anyway. Bed, chairs, tables, couches, desk, television, stereo, computer...."
"That sounds like entirely too much walking back and forth."
"I'll handle it master. It will only take me one trip. You don't need to trouble yourself."
"But won't you need help putting it all together? I mean it's supposed to all be in pieces."
"I can read the instructions. I'm not stupid master."
I looked at Karen and shrugged.
"No hurting anyone, in any way, for any reason. Just get the furniture, and bring it back here, and put it together. Don't cause any trouble."
He bowed and left. Karen looked uneasy.
"Relax Karen, he can't do anything. My orders are absolute on that score."
"You're right, and it's not like hes the only demon left with the run of the place while their summoner sits at ease. So, there is this killer coffee shop in the lobby; want to go taste their house blend?"
"Sure, beats staring at the walls."
***************************************************************
The coffee was better than expected, and the mood was light as we once again traveled up the stairs. I was a bit concerned, having lost track of time and spent over an hour just chatting about what I could expect as a new member of the summoners corps in general, and the ADTF specifically. Many Horror stories of hazing and practical jokes, as well as lighter anecdotes crossed Karen's lips. She had seen almost everything it seemed.
I tried my door and it was locked. So I pulled my key out and opened it.
"Didn't expect you to lock the door Grex, afraid of something?"
Getting my first good at the front room I gaped.
While the lighting was still bright, somehow it no longer seemed enough. The couch was black, large, and overstuffed, The table was also black, and ornately carved. With skulls across the legs and images of various demons interacting on its surface. There were pictures on the wall, of distant crags and rather tortured looking landscapes. The television looked normal, a large lcd display hung upon the wall. The entertainment center under it however, was black and carved with murals of some kind.
I breezed through the den to see mostly empty dark maple shelves with elegant scroll-work and a black glass desk, seemingly held up by dragons or something similar.
I found Grex in my bedroom, putting the finishing touches on a four post? canopied? bed. humanoid birdlike demons, carved so well they seemed alive, formed the posts, with their wings curling around the bed to form the canopy, draped in dark purple silk. The vanity looked like it was formed wholesale from dead, brackish vines holding a polished steel mirror, and the walk in closet seemed to be hollowed out ogres with handles one of their hands, opening away from each other to reveal my clothes.
"Welcome back master."
My eye twitched. I could feel it, and it had never done that before. I turned to Karen.
"I don't suppose...."
"No, none of this is standard, we normally get the cheap IKEA stuff, like you find anywhere."
I turned to Grex. He raised an eyebrow.
"Really master, you're unhappy? You are so hard to please. Here I am, slaving away, putting your furniture together in the best possible way, and you don't like it? I'm saddened."
"So what happened to the furniture I sent you to get?"
"This is it. You did not specify how I had to construct it, just that I had to construct it. You really should be more clear."
"Undo this."
"I cannot. To construct furniture again in a different fashion would require more raw materials."
Karen shook her head. Dammit.
Grex walked up as I looked around.
"Relax master, every piece is crafted well, and is designed for your best comfort. I take my job seriously. Try the bed for an example."
I looked at him, dubious...then sat down on the bed. It was actually as advertised. I went fully horizontal; I could lose myself in this.
"Ha, guessing by the look of bliss, I'm guessing Grex wasn't lying?"
"Yeah this is nice. Try it."
She did, and shook her head.
"Not my type of mattress. If this thing has a sleep number, it's not mine. It's kind of close, certainly comfy; but not my style."
I got back up regretfully.
"Well can't sleep yet anyway, got too much to learn."
"And I have to get back to apartment...I still need to clean it after three months."
"Alright, so tomorrow? I assume you're taking me to where I need to go?"
"Sure, I can...We are both headed there. It's just the main station; that's where all SWAT and ADTF agents start out."
She left and I turned to Grex, who was waiting expectantly.
"OK let's get started."
****************************************************
(tbc)
The alarm was almost pleasant to wake up to; some classical song that was rather dark sounding, but soothing. I idly wondered what radio station it was tuned to. I did not want to leave the bed however; It was just so comfortable. The late night lessons were tedious but necessary. I already felt under trained for what I was being asked to do. I'd learned two useful tricks last night; hopefully I wouldn't need to use them.
Grex was where ever his home was of course...didn't want to give the powers that be more cause to worry. Which meant that getting caffeine was my job. I set my new tea kettle on and made up a mug, pouring in a spoon of sugar and a tea bag before cracking the text I was studying the day before.
After tea and a few pages, I showered and put one of the brand new sports bras on, as well as underwear. Olive drab fatigues went over those, and when I wanted the robes would go over the fatigues.
Simple.
A few sprays of that silly detangler crap, and I brushed my hair out, leaving it loose. That done I checked the seals that kept the robes lightweight, armored, free from snagging on things if you moved quickly, as well as cool. All the seals were perfect, including the temperature regulator, so I slipped it on and made more tea. Wouldn't do to get heat exhaustion the first day.
The cowl worked too, shadowing my face as I tried it, but I didn't like the look...my red eyes seemed to glow slightly from the inside once my face was shadowed.
I left it down. If called on it, I'd put it back up, but only if called on it.
The expected knock sounded, and I let Karen in.
"Good morning, how do you feel? Sleep well?"
How did she bounce off the walls like that this early?
"I'm fine and slept great. Tea?"
"Um, sure!"
I poured for her as she perused my book.
"Good one, the basics. You'd be surprised how many try to run before they can really walk."
"I've found that the fundamentals of any profession are the most used skills."
"Basic banishment is going to be something you use nearly every week."
"Oh? How so?"
"Well it's kind of given you don't kill another summoners demon...but pranks are common, and small banishment rituals tend to disrupt those. Keeps us all in practice for the real deal."
"makes sense I suppose."
I checked the clock. It was 8:15.
"I guess we should get going?"
"yeah probably."
She led the way out, hood down. She also didn't tell me I needed mine down. Excellent.
She led the way to the elevator, which now worked and we rode it. It clattered a bit as it descended, and rattled around. Karen didn't seem too concerned about it so I relaxed.
Once at the hum-vee she turned and yelled: "Catch!"
I caught the keys and raised an eyebrow.
"You should get used to driving one of these; you'll likely end up doing it sooner or later. Most of us get a company car assigned to us. While on duty you'll probably end up driving one of these."
"Alright. Can't be any worse than any other SUV."
I carefully backed out and drove...I didn't want my first day to start with an accident. I was kind of lucky in that other drivers seemed to want to keep their distance, so i had plenty of room.
"See? Easy. Other motorists react like we have the plague, so we can basically do anything we want, and they just move. One of the perks of the job."
Perks are where you find them I guess...being ostracized might indeed be a plus though. The station was right in the center of town, in the old city. Which of course meant it wasn't really that far from my new apartment; only maybe a 20 minute walk. Which turned out to be 10 minutes by car, as finding a place to park took a few minutes.
Karen once again led me with a cry of:
"Come on, slowpoke!"
I followed at a more sedate pace, taking in everything as nonchalantly as I could.
Not that I was at all intimidated or nervous; nope, not at all.
"Come on!"
Karen came back and started dragging me again.
"What's the rush?"
"We might miss the donuts!"
I felt my eyes roll. Was she seriously worried about donuts?!? We walked into the old dilapidated police station past the ancient globe lights flanking the sidewalk. Into the dingy...lobby? Not sure what you called it. Waiting room? Past the desk sergeant and up the stairs to the fifth floor. The ancient glass paneled door declared this to be the fifth floor, or 'Homicide, SWAT, and ADTF.'
Karen pushed through with a wild yell.
"Hey everyone, I'm back! Miss me?"
General yells of assent hit my ears as I looked around, spotting all sorts of large gruff ex-military types. the kind they make marine posters out of, complete with scars and massive guns. I don't think I saw anyone,in either a SWAT or ADTF uniform, that was less than 6 feet tall or 200 pounds. They seemed to be clustered around an ancient, yellowed and peppered dart board, taking turns. At least, those that weren't eating donuts.
Karen snagged a bear claw while passing the table where the box sat, still dragging me along.
"So this is our new blood?"
Just like that I was surrounded by new faces, all staring directly at me.
"Hmm, she looks kind of green around the gills. Sure she can handle us?"
This from a gentleman with an honest to god eye patch, right hand smoothing back his light brown hair and left holding a dart. His uniform did absolutely nothing to hide the terrific shape he was in, from biceps to abs to calves, all lean muscle. He sort of reminded me of a glance of a panther I'd seen in a zoo once. He had the same look of moving while standing still.
"Stuff it Pearce. Anyway this is the new recruit, Maeve Numens. Highest marks this year in both criminal justice, criminal behavior, and hunter/seeker tactics...and all ours."
I took my cue.
"Hello, nice to meet you all."
The captain, a man who at 6 foot 5 or so, and 280 if he was an ounce, reminded me of a grizzled mma fighter I'd seen in action once (Seriously, where do they dig up these specimens?) walked into my personal space. Must be where Karen gets it. He made a show before inspecting me while I gave him a what I hoped came across as a challenging stare.
The he abruptly grinned, and seemingly transformed himself into the large bluff uncle everyone seems to have.
"Hi there! Any relation at all to our narcotics Numens? The detective that works a few floors down?"
I thought quickly...do I want to dodge this or face it head on?
"He's my father, sir. You know him?"
Hell with it; nothing was ever gained by hiding. I looked up again to see him nodding.
"Yes I do, we work with him sometimes when he needs SWAT support for a raid. He's well thought of here."
"So you do SWAT missions while not on call for ADTF?"
"Yep, that's right. WE all do. You won't of course, but we eat up too much of the law enforcement budget not to get used for pretty much anything the
chief wants while not on duty. The way it works is, there is always a team on call, with another team on standby doing other operations. We all do each
other's jobs here. One week we are standard SWAT, next week we are ADTF. We wouldn't even do that if we didnt need to for the quick response."
"So what do I do?"
"Mostly sit around on government dole and look busy. Sometimes we get cases involving demons, or crimes with the possibility of magic involved, and then you work. we've had two incidents involving demons in the last three months, and one case where a hitman was somehow summoning demons to kill his victims."
"I knew of one of those. I'm rather surprised that there is so much."
"I know what you mean, when I first got back I didn't think I'd see another demon again; not around here. But even in the low incident places, there seems to be a surprising amount. You will earn your pay."
"But first...." A voice popped up from the crowd.
"Oh yes, first....we determine whether you're any good at all. To the practice range!"
I was gently ushered down through the building by a crowd of laughing, chatting cops, all ignoring my gently worded protests. Into the dank moldy basement we went, where I was shown into the standard police range, all concrete with paper targets on those little lines...and guns, guns, guns.
Now, summoners aren't taught firearms till after their ritual. The reason that everyone knows but no one says is simple. Teaching a guy you're potentially condemning to death and madness how to kill you, and giving him access to the means, is generally seen as a bad idea. Most summoners are never taught guns, but rather swords and knives, as guns don't actually hurt demons.
Seems you cant put runes on bullets; they disintegrate when the bullets are fired, breaking the integrity. A large reason why guns are ineffective, and summoners are needed in the first place. But guns still had a use in society and even in battles with demons, so they still existed.
But more to the immediate point, I was being set up to fail as some sort of hazing.
what they didn't seem to fully realize though, was that I was the child of an ex-marine and veteran cop.
I was handed earplugs and protective glasses as I was led to the furthest range, and a 1911 was pressed into my hands. I checked it in complete silence; loaded, safety on. The range was empty save for all the SWAT/ADTF staring intently at me. I adjusted my grip to avoid slide bite, thumbed the safety, and took a standard weaver stance in a heartbeat and emptied the clip.
I made sure the gun was safe while the captain thumbed the button to bring the target up, and waited. half my shots were in the head, the other half
around center mass. I frowned a bit. Normally I'm much better, but apparently my new form threw me off more than I anticipated.
"Well, not bad at all. You can shoot motionless targets well enough."
"you know what this means cap?"
"I sure do Gary...it's morning exercise time! Everyone outside!"
I was again gently herded as Karen shook her head, back upstairs and out the front door; where everyone started to jog along the sidewalk around the building.
"This really necessary?" I asked Karen as she stopped just outside, resignation clear on her face.
"If you don't do it, they will think of worse. They are all ex-military, unflappable. They don't intimidate easily."
I sighed, and sprinted a bit to catch up.
**********************************************************
It took twenty laps around city block before they stopped trying to run me into the ground. My new body was much softer than my old one, but I still managed to keep it together for the run...barely. Sigh, all that work staying in shape wasted.
Pearce walked back to where I was hunched over and panting.
"Not bad kid; most summoners can't do that run out of basic."
"I...made a point of...running with the troops. As much as possible...anyway." I panted, walking slowly back into the cop shop. Once inside, the SWAT and ADTF closed ranks again. I looked around at them, anger starting to boil.
"So there's more?"
"Nope, not really.' replied the captain. "Just had to see what we get to work with."
"What exactly do you mean?" I asked as I was escorted up the stairs.
The captain still looked around a bit before replying, unused stairs or not.
"simple, it's no real secret in this department that what the summoners academies turn out are for the most part half trained kids barely able to spell police work, much less do it, and soft as warm butter. We usually have to train most on the job, and we wanted to see how bad you were. You'll be pleased to know we all decided we likely won't need to babysit you as much as our last new guy."
Gary snorted. "That guy was a real piece of work."
"Right, couldn't find his ass with both hands. So anyway, now only two things remain. The first is your demon, but since you won't have your dagger yet, we won't be able to see him..."
I interrupted as Karen face palmed.
"Actually if you want, I can summon him anytime."
"Really? well this I have to see!"
We reached the squad room and the captain turned to me expectantly. I cleared a space among the assembly crowding me.
"Grex, veni huc!"
The expected tear in the floor opened up, and Grex poured through it, solidifying to the words;
"You called, my master?"
I looked to see many jaws being picked up off the floor. It was rather satisfying.
"Well. So you can just summon him without blood or his name. Useful trick, might be something the next class could bargain for Karen."
"Already considering it captain, our little snow white here has turned the summoning community on it's ear a bit."
If glares could melt people where they stood, Karen would surely be dead. If these cops picked up on that stupid moniker....
"Snow white?"
"The last step, I remember. A nick name? That's her squad name. Got to go report to the chief before he bursts a blood vessel! Have fun!"
My worst fears realized...I knew how cops could get with names, that's why my dad was to this day called 'Narc Numens' by the lowest beat cop to the chief himself. I had been hoping to leave that moniker behind. I tuned back into the present, where general acclimation's of assent over the stupid name were being muttered.
"I don't suppose you all could forget you heard that, could you?"
Shark grins, all tooth, met my gaze.
"Of course not. So captain, what's Karen's name?"
"Oh you don't know? She's Kare bear, Cause she's the resident head shrinker for us."
Kare....bear? Oh how priceless.
"So! Snow, one last thing to do."
Damn it.
"And what's that captain?"
"Party of course! Wheel it out Cords!"
out came a large wheeled cart with a 3 layer cake...devils food of course, along with various soft drinks. No drinking while on duty of course. This mobile snack bar was wheeled out by a man with an average build, dark shaggy hair with some stubble and a ruggedly handsome face. while he was as cut as the others, he wasn't as overtly muscled as many; thick glasses gave him a bit of a nerd air.
Wait, did I just think he was handsome? No, I'm quite sure I did not. Nothing of the sort, not from me.
"Cords here doesn't take an active role much; hes our resident tech head and communications expert. He usually runs strategy from his cave back there."
Well every operation had to have its' brains. Cords served me a large piece of cake, allowing every one else to get their own. Apparently I was a guest of honor or something.
"Don't worry,' he said with a blush; 'we ordered it from the bakery down the street."
"That is very reassuring; it's hard to imagine a bunch of macho cops baking a proper devil's food."
Grex perked up a little at the cake's name as laughs at my horrid joke broke out. I mean, both I and my dad knew how to cook...mom didn't always cook...edible things.
"So I noticed it's just Karen and I today..and she's pretty much here to make sure I don't screw up. How many summoners does the department employ?"
Cords answered as the captain's face was stuffed with cake.
"there are usually three on duty at any given time, today, it's you and Karen. Tonight it'll be Reggie and Al. the department normally employs around twenty, though we are down a few at the moment. Standard shifts are nine to five, three to four days a week, depending on how unlucky you are."
"Can't do five?"
"Five days a week with the potential of a demon summoned for hours at a time was deemed unconstitutional; sort of the same thing as having kids work fourteen hour days. It tended to make summoners....unstable."
"OK, got you. Still that is more summoners then I thought were stationed here."
The captain chimed in.
"We get that a lot. Most people don't see summoners, they go about their lives without ever coming into contact with them or their targets...and we like it that way."
I nodded affirmation to that sentiment.
"All that being said,' Pearce chimed in; 'most of the time you'll sit here on your ass reading news or the like and eating donuts. Unless the captain
takes the day to train you in ADTF tactics. How to support us in the field and the like."
"And I assume that is on the agenda?"
I looked around as I cut another small piece of cake...it was quite good. Faces hardened momentarily as I handed it and a plastic fork to Grex, but nothing was said. He took a speculative bite as the captain recovered himself and spoke up.
"Tomorrow, a hand picked squad will be training in standard urban anti-demon tactics. You'll be joining them."
Grex spoke up.
"Master, you were lied to."
The faces of my new co-workers hardened further as Grex called them out.
"Oh, how so Grex?"
"This isn't devil's food at all. It is simple chocolate."
The faces relaxed as I laughed.
"That's why you were curious? That is simply what we call it. you guys should forgive Grex for that one at least, he's kind of an idiot...an idiot who is on our side for now."
I stressed the last words, my own voice gaining steel. they had the good grace to look sheepish. I knew it; they weren't afraid of demons, or summoners, having worked with both extensively...but working with demons extensively bred hatred. I ignored the righteous indignation painting his features, cute as the look was.
Why should a murderer of their friends get away with it, and indeed, have cake, while said friends were cold in the the ground?
The answer was of course, that while I lived, said murderer was on our side. Come to think of it, I had no idea what part Grex has played so far in the war...I should ask. When I had time.
My musing was interrupted by a voice that I had hoped not to hear this soon.
"Excuse me for interrupting captain, I was told my child had officially joined the fold?"
My father was staring at Grex as if he'd seen him before. Which I realized, he must have.
"Ahh Numens, indeed she has. Cake?"
"Hi dad. Sorry captain, cake will have to wait."
I grabbed my dad's arm before he could do anything but gape at me and dragged him to a quiet corner of the room.
"First off, it's Maeve now...I won't respond to that other name I had. I can't. Second off, you and mom have some explaining to do."
He looked me over and his normally hard facade softened.
"You look like you'd be your mother's younger sister. Grex demanded the same price?"
The world swam around me.
"...what?"
"Grex was your mother's summon. He demanded her gender as part of his price for service. Your mom thought it was only for the ten year term of service, but it was permanent."
Sigh. That explained much. My mother had been born male, as I had. It might even explain her madness. But it wasn't quite correct. I knew enough about Grex to know that.
"No dad...mom didn't sell her gender on purpose; I didn't either. Grex likely tricked us both, in the same way. I sold my first name and I thought years of my life. Mom sold..me."
"What do you mean?"
"Grex can't lie to me dad. I bargained well, all things considered. He told me mom bargained for a sort of mental back door in her firstborn; a momentary lapse of judgement that I'm even now paying for. He told me that without that, I wouldn't have fallen for this."
I gestured down at myself, scorn flowing naturally now that I wasn't trying to hide it. His shock completely shattered what was left of the hard bitten facade he normally sported.
I wasn't proud of doing that to him.
I helped him to a chair as he stumbled.
"you're absolutely sure of this?"
"Positive. Grex is one hundred percent mine, has to follow any order I give him, for as long as I require it. I order him to tell the truth, he has no choice but comply or breach contract."
"And a demon would rather be slain than breach.' He nodded, running his fingers through his hair, 'OK, I trust you."
"It explains much from my point of view. I think that price was what drove her insane, finally."
He nodded.
"Perhaps...I met her when she served her first tour; Poland. she was so strong, confident...cold. she didn't break till almost after her 10, when you were born...and she warmed up. I remember her looking at Grex, who was watching you...he looked so hungry...."
I shook him out of it.
"Dad? Dad! My problem now. I can handle Grex, you taught me well."
He swept me up in a large warm hug which I awkwardly returned.
"I know. you're my child, you can handle that thing. Just remember, I'm here for you."
There were tears in his voice, but none on his face. I crossed the room, grabbed a piece of cake, and took it back to him.
"Here. This is supposed to be a party."
He took a bite and got up.
"You know, you should see her."
"Mom? I had intended to...but it's likely to get messy."
"I know; here."
He handed me a set of keys. The keys to my car that I'd only owned for a day before being forced to leave it three months before.
"I drove it in today; but I can get a ride. It's your car after all. Welcome to the force."
He turned and walked out, cake forgotten in his hand.
"Thanks dad."
So he didn't really know. If he had he'd have told me. Which meant he was lied to, as I was. Grex handed me a soda while I sat there, thinking.
(tbc)
The next morning I got ready and drove myself over without Karen; she had begged off claiming something to do well before I was due in.
Which was fine, I was a big bo...err girl.
Another night spent working on all the crap I had to know, hours of reading followed by more hours of practical exercises of Grex's invention, and I was still a bit tired after sleeping. But...not as much as I'd thought. Today I was supposed to go out of town, down route 4 to the ironically named Maple road.
That was the location of the ADTF training grounds, where I would be officially trained in certain police techniques that
were a mix of military counter terrorist techniques, summoner techniques, and SWAT.
The car was much less conspicuous in it's way than the hum-vee was; with my cowl down, I was not the social pariah on the road I had been yesterday. My car however garnered quite a bit of attention since it was older than dirt. That new attention from traffic almost caused me to be late, as I got stuck behind this semi that just wouldn't get out of the way.
I pulled onto the street at 7:56, noting the 3 late model white vans in front of the 20 foot concrete wall doing its best to hide mock up buildings just beyond.
"Good morning rookie."
"Good morning captain."
He opened the giant padlocks (there were three) holding the gate shut while the vans were restarted. I drove through first as he swung the gates wide, followed by the vans. There was a small parking area where I stopped, and the vans bracketed me. The captain walked in and then shut the gate.
"So captain, what's on tap for today?"
"Oh the typical obstacle courses and urban warfare training; also hostage rescue and other such things. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll do fine."
His shark like grin was less than reassuring. The others were even worse.
Then the crate at the back of one of the vans was unloaded, and the paint ball guns came out. I suppose I really shouldn't have been shocked.
Then guns in question looked real enough, like standard issue 9 millimeter Beretta, but the small paint ball reservoir on the top gave them away. The captain handed me one he's just finished loading and pointed down range.
"Go ahead, 10 steps in, and I'll go start it. No live fire of any kind and no Grex, got it? We can do all that later. this is just a gauge of ability at the moment, nothing more."
With a wave, he walked to the building abutting the wall, I could see a sort of crow's nest on it.
"Don't worry about it. You'll do fine."
One of the few female members, a blonde maybe an inch shorter than I was and a bit more petite stated with a friendly pat on the back. It took a bit of recall to remember her name, she had been at the party. I nodded.
"Thanks Sarah. I'll try not to shoot anyone."
She called out as she hit the steps;
"Exactly, save that for later."
A buzzer sounded and wooden pop up bad guys started appearing down the street, in windows, behind doors, etc. I hit them all, and even managed to shoot the terrorist holding the hostage at the end. Typical urban warfare set up...until the flying, screaming cut outs started shrieking past.
Oh right, cut out demons. With paint filled claws.
There were a total of 5 of those, which I managed to shoot, though the last two I had to dodge by hitting the dirt. Why they'd have me shoot those I didn't know. the real thing wouldn't go down to bullets.
The intercom crackle made me jump.
"Again, from the top."
Of course the targets were randomized, so I was left guessing (and dodging) again.
After a few more times of this, The captain had mercy on me, and called me to the start where the troops were waiting.
"Not too shabby. Take five and rest. We move on to group tactics after."
He walked around me as I grabbed water from a convenient cooler.
"No paint, pay up Roddy."
A young man with vaguely Latino (South American? Mexican?) features lacking some of the muscle and scars of the rest snorted, and slapped a twenty in the captains hand; I caught a few more such exchanges.
"This is pretty heartwarming. Can I bet in these pools or not?"
"Nah you can't, you're the mark after all."
Roddy replied, running a hand through his dark brown hair in a classic sheepish gesture of evasion.
"Well, to reintroduce you; these 8 here are going to be the people you work with the most; ADTF team 3; First off you know Pearce from yesterday, he's the team leader. Conner's,' he pointed to Sarah; 'is the tactical for the team, Roddy here is the first break in specialist..."
They took turns stepping forward, making it easy on me.
The ones I didn't know from yesterday (I can only assume they weren't on duty) were:
Andrew 'judge' Sills, a sniper that stood at my height with warm green eyes set in an expressive face, a police ball cap
covering the sparse black hair on his head. He gave a polite nod as he stepped back.
Frank 'aims' Anders, the other sniper, who stood a good six feet, wore a cowboy hat over blond hair, and whose own eyes were a dead polar opposite to sills.
Collin 'culling' List, a second son of polish immigrants unless I missed my guess, who stood a hair under Anders own six feet but was very stocky. the sword he wore even to this exercise proclaimed him a close combat specialist; the runes on it told me he was one of the few that failed the ritual. His blue eyes were cold and his manner serious.
May 'west' Johnson, an auburn haired woman that stood a few inches shorter than me, yet I was sure weighed more...and all of it muscle. She looked like she could give List a run for his money, but had a sparkle in her light brown eyes, and an easy laugh.
and lastly, a man that could give the captain a run for his money; Darren 'Dolph' Zeph, a Russian born immigrant who sported long blond hair and blue eyes, and stood around 6 feet 6; he and the captain looked to be struck from the same mold, even down to the facial scars, which were close to identical.
His stance and movement gave lie to his ready smile; he moved like a predator...like he was the most dangerous thing in any room.
OK, so I might feel a bit intimidated. Maybe.
"Hi everyone. So what's the plan?"
"Oh that's simple.' the captain responded. 'It's my team versus your team. Urban warfare scenarios for the next 4 hours."
The grins were back. Pearce took pity on my confusion.
"He means, it's paintball, all day newbie."
Oh of course, and since I was new, I'd be the primary target for the other team. Just perfect. Sarah sidled close.
"Don't worry, it's legitimate training, despite how it sounds. You get basic training on what will be expected of you, working with us, and we get training on protecting you against threats while you do your job."
I nodded.
"OK, let's get started."
***********************************************
I was trying to keep my dignity; I'd been run into the ground from eight till three; after the first test my new team and I had practiced SWAT entry, hostage situations, random demon attacks (where I would attempt to 'banish cut out demons that moved while under fire, and my team covered me), possession cases, and basically any other scenario that evil man in charge of my life decided to set up.
I was covered in paint.
Red paint for small arms fire, yellow and green for demon strikes, and blue for being possessed. Red made up most of the hits, though I had a bit of yellow and green. Not so much blue at least.
And of course these sadistic types insisted we finish our shift, so I had to march into headquarters like this, amidst grinning freshly dressed colleagues. They all just happened to have clean uniforms in their vans....purely coincidence.
"Come on rookie, showers are this way."
I followed Sarah to the women's locker room without hesitation...after all, I've heard they can smell fear. We were alone inside it turned out, and the place was pretty run down; it had that institutional look, as if the place were a school. It was clean at least.
"Here.' Sarah handed me shampoo, conditioner, and a towel. 'Do you mind your clothes being wet? The paint is water soluble, but if we let it set it'll take forever to get out."
"Well, I wouldn't care, but we don't need to worry about my clothes."
I picked a stall and got started, letting the water soothe stressed muscles.I'd had a brainstorm of sorts after the walk
through the halls filled with snickering cops...pity it hadn't been before.
"Why is that?"
"Grex. I know you guys all planned this to haze, but Grex is apparently hell's own tailor. Pretty sure I can get him to clean my clothes if I want."
"Really? How fast? Seems wasteful."
I turned, scrubbing at some paint that had run down my shirt collar and dried. She didn't seem the least annoyed that I was in here I noticed. Then again, she could probably kick my ass if I tried anything.
Not that I wanted to; and that was a bit disturbing.
"Not sure how fast, but I'll bet on instantaneous."
"Hmm, you're on. I'll guard the door, you summon him now, let's find out."
"Rather wait till I'm showered first."
She had the good grace to look abashed.
"Oh, right, my bad."
"Why does it matter if he can clean my clothes instantly?"
"Never seen a demon with that kind of power to spare, honestly. Best we get here are demons like Karen's, and hers can't really do anything but throw lightning and fly."
Of course the flying was magical, I mean otherwise his wingspan would be what? Twenty five feet or more?
"right. Well the morning of the ritual, Grex did something similar, so no reason why he can't now I'd think."
Shower complete, I stepped out with the towel around me and called;
"Grex, veni huc!"
It took a moment for me to catch Sarah's eyes, widened. Arms enveloped me from behind as Grex leaned in.
"Aww, for me my master? You shouldn't have."
"Hands off grabby. Got a job for you."
He stepped away as I turned.
"Let me guess. You in a state of undress, surrounded by police, in a quaint public hygiene room...another fashion disaster?"
"Indeed, I need you to remove the paint stains in my clothes."
He sighed.
"This is just like the boxes my master; You don't summon me all day, then you do just to have me wash your clothes. I am
wounded."
"Bull crap. But if you must know, I was training today. That didn't include you, but you get to play tomorrow, I'm told."
"Yay." he deadpanned.
I handed him the clothes, noticing he was still getting an eyeful. He hadn't so much as glanced at Sarah the entire time. Sarah of course was watching the exchange with no small amount of fascination etched on her face. I also noticed something else.
"Why are your wings out?"
"I was traveling of course, and flying is the quickest way from one place to another."
"Can you teach me how to fly? Like Karen does?"
"no, you are not yet ready...my way is slightly different than Karen's companion, and involves a bit more."
Companion, huh?
"Alright."
He handed me my clothes, free of any paint stains. He left the dye in, I'd almost expected he'd remove that too.
"Turn around Grex, and no peeking."
"Of course my master."
I watched him as I put my clothes back on. Sarah was watching the door. I dressed in a hurry.
"OK thank you Grex, enjoy your appointment."
"So soon my master? Now I truly am hurt."
"Later Grex, go home."
He disappeared without another word. One would almost think he WAS hurt....
"Why send him home so soon?"
"Would you want to explain what two women are doing in the women's locker room with a male demon?"
"...Good point. Very good point. We will never speak of this again."
I nodded as we stepped out, taking the stairs to rejoin the squad in silence.
"By the way,' Sarah spoke up as we reached the doors on the 5th floor. 'I owe you a coke, you won."
I enjoyed the looks of shock as I walked in as pristine as I had left for work this morning. Guessing they thought I'd
wear paint the rest of the day. Karen was in, talking to the captain, no doubt about my performance. She caught a glimpse and turned.
"Sorry, should have warned you about the...paintball?"
She got a good eyeful, as shocked as the rest. I couldn't contain my grin.
"you mean the paintball games cops are fond of playing? Had no idea such fun could be had on the clock!"
Her responding grin was brilliant.
"I agree! Too bad I'm stuck doing paperwork all day. Which reminds me, you have some to fill out at your desk, Don't keep
me waiting for it."
"Um, I have a desk?"
She gave the captain a light punch in the arm.
"You're supposed to be showing her these things!"
Sarah pointed.
"Your desk is over there, with the rookie manuals on it. Third one from the wall on the left."
"thanks."
I took a seat at it, looking over the paperwork...dental benefits, 401k, tax forms? Seriously, tax forms for summoners?
"So, did you pack spare clothes or something?"
Pearce had snuck up on me in my moment of distraction.
"No, I had my demon do my laundry; he's quick and thorough."
"Your demon cleans your clothes?"
"Yes."
I really didn't understand why they all looked so shocked. I mean, he was my demon wasn't he? He had to do what I told him.
I started filling out all the crap Karen had left on my desk, not really paying too much attention to the comings and goings of my fellow officers. I was almost done, having had to remember my summoner code number and my social security number for the fourth time, when a can of coke being tapped next to my in-box caught my attention. I looked up to see Sarah.
"Enough of that rookie, it's quitting time for us."
A quick glance at the clock showed it was 5pm, and the next shift was beginning to trickle in.
"don't have to tell me twice. This stuff is stupid, pretty sure the government knows all this already."
"Par for the course according to Karen, she says she gets swamped in personnel reports and police brutality complaints, not to mention damage claims."
"She's welcome to it, better her than me."
In passing I brushed past a fellow summoner, this one with their cowl up.
"Good afternoon, new blood."
He stopped and his eyes followed me as I passed.
"Good afternoon sir. sorry about bumping into you."
He dropped his cowl, allowing me to see the amused expression on his dark face framed by curly brown hair. He looked to be of mixed African descent, judging by his wide nose and complexion.
"What, no paint? Did the captain slack today?"
"Not at all sir, I simply have a demon to do my laundry. My name is Maeve, might I ask yours?"
"Call me charlie. And you're Snow. Pleased to meet you."
He held out a hand. Damn, I really hated that nickname. Made me sound pure or something. I shook hands briefly, offering my polite 'I'm just humoring you' smile.
"Well pleased to meet you, but I need to get out of this mad house before Karen forces me to finish all that dreaded paperwork."
"Then by all means, run! I'll tell her I never saw you. shoo, shoo!"
His gestures accompanied his easy laugh as I made my escape, Sarah right behind me. Pearce stopped me at the doors.
"same time, same place as this morning. Don't be late."
"Got it boss. I'll be there."
I made my way out and into the parking lot without further incident. I decided on fast food, and made the turn to head to the Burger Barn...It was open again, and I had a strong desire for a burger and fries. It wasn't on my way, but I didn't really have anywhere else to be.
I decided to go inside rather than use the drive in when I saw the person working the window. It was Randolf.
What the hell?
Randolf was the son of a rich lawyer, who cleaned up all his messes. What was he doing in a burger barn uniform, complete with paper hat? Hmm, how to handle this.
Well I'm off the clock, and not required to wear the robes...I do have my fatigues on underneath, complete with patches.
I quickly shucked the thing and walked in, trying my best to appear nonchalant. I received a few second glances as I strode up to the counter, but nothing serious. No dirty looks or hateful glances.
"Good afternoon ma'am, can I help you?"
Randolf himself, still bearing the headset microphone those who took the take out orders wore, stood at counter 1. There were no other people up front, but plenty of good natured laughter and hijinks in the back...was that Marci, skating along the tile floor on an empty box? I shook my head clear and made a show of looking at his name tag.
"Yes Randy, I'd like a BB deluxe with bacon, no cheese, and a fry basket please, to go."
"Yes ma'am, that will be eight dollars, 47 cents with tax."
I handed him my shiny new card to swipe, focusing more on the back than him. I didn't like to take chances with food
preparation...too many incidents involving the very person in front of me and various bodily fluids in school cafeterias.
"So, haven't seen you working here before; you new?"
"Yes ma'am, relatively. I started just under a month ago."
"I see, haven't been off base for a few months, just got back into town. I had the worst burger craving hit just a few minutes ago."
Was he blushing?
Oh, his eyes weren't even close to my face.
"Good afternoon lieutenant."
"Good afternoon sir."
I half turned, the stirrings of rage tempered somewhat when I spotted the manager standing in front of his office, giving me a warm smile.
He was a man in his early 50's, about 5ft 7 with just the faintest traces of grey in his thick black hair. He could weigh as much as 250 lbs, the very definition of portly without being...rotund. If he wanted he would make a mean Santa Claus, and had always been nice to the kids of the neighborhood. He also had a tattoo from his time in the navy; I wasn't too sure what it meant, but I knew now that it was some kind of unit ink.
I still had an eye on my food being prepared, and he noticed but didn't call attention to it.
"So what brings you into the big city Lieutenant?"
"Training with the ADTF sir, the usual."
"What kind of training?"
he inquired with a faint stirring of interest.
"Mostly basic small arms training and urban warfare sir."
ADTF and SWAT routinely trained with the military, and vice versa. My presence as a simple soldier training in urban warfare shouldn't be questioned. A throat cleared behind me and I turned, finding Randy (snicker) waiting with my bag of food.
"All done ma'am, sorry for the wait."
"Thank you Randy, see you later sir."
"See you later lieutenant, the military is always welcome at my establishment. Have a nice day."
I waved, feeling eyes follow me to my car. Traffic was lighter on these back streets, but it was still just after six when I pulled into my building.
Dragging my tired self upstairs while sneaking fries earned me quite a few dirty looks.
I'm normally nice enough I think, but they can damn well get their own fries.
Aside from those looks though I was unmolested till I put key to lock, juggling my bag.
"Hi!"
"Karen sheesh, I could have dropped my food. Didn't know you were coming by or I'd have bought you some."
"Oh that's OK, I ate at the office...so finish that paperwork?"
"It's on my desk..and um mostly done."
"Tomorrow morning I'll see it then, right?"
She joined me inside, not even asking...not that I minded.
"Unless those jokers we work with steal it or something, yes. Tea?"
"Sure, I'd love some."
I turned back from the stove to find her hand in my bag, fries hanging out of her mouth.
"Woman, I will break you."
She caught the smile I threw and choked her ill gotten gains down.
"Fry fiend?"
"My favorite food. And the ones the Burger Barn make are amazing."
"How is that place? Demon went through it right?"
"Yeah just one casualty, no other permanent damage. My guess is they reopened inside a week. Saw one
of my old school mates working there."
"A friend?"
"No, just someone I knew."
I sighed and sat down on my extremely plush couch, coke in hand and bag on the coffee table. Karen wasted no
time settling next to me, remote in her hands.
"Grex, veni huc!"
This time he appeared in front of me all at once, wings folded primly at his back...and possibly smaller than normal.
"You called mistress?"
"Yep sure did; time for magic lessons and crime dramas, not necessarily in that order. Karen channel 48 please."
"A and E? Not big brother?"
"Big brother? Ewww....so Grex, how do you manage the laundry trick?"
With a guarded look at Karen that neither of us missed, he started explaining while I ate and watched the latest on
the black dahlia murder.
(tbc)
The sun was jellifying my eyes. It was coming through my eastern window, and hitting my comfy bed, and slamming me right
in the eyes. With a groan, I got up and dealt with the call of nature that suddenly came from nowhere.
With clean hands and eyes still filled with spots, I was halfway through my living room when I realized Karen was still here, sacked out on my couch. The coffee pot had already brewed it's morning ambrosia and read 7:22.
Oh shit. I was late. I was so late! What happened to my alarm clock?!?
"Karen wake up! We're late!"
I snagged my travel mug of coffee and returned to the shower. When late, multitasking is essential. Soaping with one hand and drinking with the other, I was surprised when Karen just walked in like she owned the place.
I was glad I'd pulled the curtain, though the sound and mental image of her peeing just beyond it did wonders for my wakefulness.
"We need to be out of here in 15 minutes, and you'll need to speed to be on time."
"I know, what happened to my alarm? I'm sure it was set."
"Um, I'm afraid I heard it and turned it off. If you're late, blame me and I'll back you. See you later, going to my apartment to get ready."
Was a good thing she left, I wasn't about to get out with her here. Now that she had though, I raced through my apartment to my bedroom, since I'd forgotten my clothes. At least the fatigues were easy to match. I grabbed my coffee cup again while brushing my hair. A quick refill and a package of pop tarts later and I was out the door with a few minutes to spare, shrugging my robe on.
I think I made it to my car before 7:40, and no horsepower will be spared. traffic wasn't all that light, but the good news was the cop shop stickers left on the car prevented me from getting stopped by the black and white that observed me going a good 15 over the limit, weaving in and out of traffic.
He probably thinks I'm my dad; the car is pretty distinctive.
I pulled up to the gate right at 8am, to find it open and Pearce waiting. I rolled down my window as I passed.
"Sorry sir, I overslept a bit."
"No problem, you're right on time. Now in another minute you'd be running laps before we start."
I parked quickly.
"Keys."
"What? why?"
"Can't park that classic here. It'll be going outside with the vans, don't want it taking a stray shot. I'll play the valet, you can't keep your team waiting. Building 3."
"Yes, sir."
I held onto the keys for a moment despite his tugs, till he looked me in the eye.
"Not a scratch sir."
"Not a single one."
I went to the building as ordered, fighting the urge to watch as he drove out in the precious. I found Sarah, Culling and Roddy waiting on me.
"For today we have Judge on overwatch; today we work on entry and pacification with your demon."
"Alright, Grex, veni huc!"
This time I spotted him immediately as he materialized behind Sarah, arms spread wide.
"Don't you even buster, that's a good way to get filled with lead."
He stopped reaching for her and bowed low as the rest of the team turned.
"but my master, I merely wish to greet your co-workers properly."
"Lead, Grex, I can see it in your future."
"So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company master? More boxes to move?"
Sarah looked lost.
"Boxes?"
"Oh he's still sulking about the time I made him move my stuff from the base to my apartment a few days ago. No Grex, today is team training day. You get to play cops and demons with us. Only this time, you're the cop."
"Oh drat, I do so love playing the other side. Oh well, I've done this before. So what has changed in the last ten years?"
Roddy spoke up.
"Procedurally more than a few things; mainly in how we enter. We use explosive strips, special shotgun rounds, and rams now, rather than demonic magic. Takes less time and isn't as easy to sense or spot."
"Sounds positively boring."
"Then prepare to be bored right along with the rest of us. You let any paint touch me today and you will be...punished."
Culling's loud whisper of "that's hot." brought the heat to my face. I had to remember to watch what I said around cops, or SWAT types at least. At least Grex took the threat seriously.
"As you will, my master."
Pearce strode in, having obviously heard the last words.
"Right, so you are team 2, you'll be against aims west Dolph, and me. And of course, the mystery guest. Basics are same as
yesterday, team 1 are the bad guys. We win, demons eat the world, got it? Don't screw it up new girl, loser buys lunch for the winner."
I attempted to project more confidence than I felt; I mean sure I had some quickly learned tricks, but these people were combat vets.
"Yes sir."
"We start in 5, then the sweep begins."
"Roger that sir."
Sarah waited till he left and keyed her headset.
"Judge you there?"
"Yep, all set and in position."
"Good we go hostile in 5, anyone not wearing a red armband is kos, got it?"
"Got it. Judge out."
I put on the armband Sarah handed me. She appeared to think a bit, then handed one to grex as well. He followed my example
without comment.
"So um, how good is Judge?"
"He's one of the best, but so is Aims. Most likely they will end up sniping at each other all day rather than giving us any
meaningful help."
Culling clapped me on the shoulder.
"Keep your eyes peeled rookie, it'll be very confusing out there very soon. Keep your head."
I swallowed, nodding.
"Calmly my master, I won't let anything happen to you."
I had another concern though.
"Grex, nothing lethal and no massive damage... to buildings or people; this is just an exercise."
"Time, let's go. Roddy, you're point with me, standard two two formation, with Culling and Snow in the rear."
They left, Sarah breaking left along our building and Roddy breaking right to the one across the street. They both had their weapons, paintball guns looking much like sub machine guns out and pointed slightly down. their heads seemed to swivel at high speeds at they took the street in.
following Culling's lead, I took my place to the right side of the door, ready to follow Roddy's path as they neared the entrances of the next street over.
"Go."
The whispered order came just as team 1 reached the entrances in question, swinging their weapons to cover those streets.
Having no gun, I felt distinctly under dressed. But Grex was my weapon, and the idea was to learn to use him. As soon as I reached Roddy's back I tapped it, letting him know I was in position just in case my almost stealthy footsteps hadn't clued him in.
He nodded to Sarah, who had Culling behind her and the dance started again.
As I settled back to watch paint splattered next to my head...onto Grex, who stepped in and blocked the shot. Since demons don't die to bullets, this was perfectly legal and didn't tag him out. I did expect a little more reaction, but he didn't even cry out.
I on the other hand, scrambled for cover, needing to take it at the far wall. My team didn't even know I'd been attacked, they were still moving. I hadn't been graced with a headset, so I settled for the next best thing...two sharp claps. Sure it gave away our position, but our position was known anyway.
Sarah was waving at me to come up, Culling was already halfway to the other side. Gathering myself I moved running very low with Grex beside me. We formed up into a diamond as soon as I arrived, and I turned to watch my given direction.
"Aim is pinned down at bell tower one, which means they have to be a street over, and are likely digging in. So, I say we need to go before they manage to. Roddy and I will be point; Snow, can you provide some cover?"
I turned to my trusty weapon.
"Grex can you provide cover?"
"Certainly my master."
A dense yellow glowing fog rolled through the streets in an instant, almost prompting me to give away our position. what was odd was I could sort of see through it.
"Too much!"
Sarah whispered, holding the classic blind pose, an arm in front of her. The others looked nervous too.
"we're good, they aren't moving. I can see through it. Grex can too I'm sure."
She paused.
"Can you lead us through it into the grocery?"
I looked, there was in fact a building not to far from us with a sign crudely spray painted "grocery store."
"Sure, Grex take the rear, Sarah hold on to me."
I led them in single file and we managed to make it under cover in between the old shelves before the fog blew away, almost
as quickly as it came. My silent inquiry was met with a whisper:
"there is another demon present, my master. Not as strong as I, but skilled."
"you earn your keep today; same rules apply however, nothing permanent."
He had the good grace to look insulted.
"Of course not. Besides, it's a friend of ours."
"Oh, who?"
Sarah broke in.
"Nevermind that, we need to make it to the back door before they rotate their box. Let's go."
She broke for the next building over, a garage, with Roddy following, both looking in their predetermined directions. As we got ready to follow, lightning flashed through the door, routing itself past us and into the metal shelving.
"Karen, huh?"
Grex grinned, pointing upwards to a small robed form as it flew past a good 20 feet up.
"Well you can fly, go neutralize her, I'll keep an eye out for Thor."
I ran after Culling, who had wasted no time.
I prepped my first trick.
I was almost to the dubious safety of the far wall when Thor flew by, lightning spurting from his hands. Easy enough to
dodge when you could weaken time's hold around yourself. Thor was little more than a fly suspended in amber as I took aim for my next trick, flicking a series of paint balls at him while moving to the side.
Time's flow was quickly restored and he jetted past at a reasonable speed, a dismissal glyph painted on his side as his own attack missed me in my new position next to the wall by a relative mile. My gaped like landed fish, especially when Grex landed with a struggling Karen.
"Um, don't we need to get to cover? Like now, before we're all shot?"
I suited action to words, going into the garage first as Grex followed while tying Karen up. where he got the cords from I
don't know, nor want to know.
"Karen?"
"grawwwwwrrrr, FEAR ME MORTAL, YOU FACE JARAXXUS, EREDAR LORD OF THE BURNING LEGION!"
Oh by all that's holy, shes a WoW player. I tapped her on the nose.
"You're caught, be quiet like a good bad guy."
"OK! So, when do I get my phone call?"
"When I mirandize you. Sarah any ideas?"
"Well they know we're here, but we basically win from here; Thor is 'banished' If I saw what I think I saw, Karen is here, which means Grex can simply walk up and paint them. I doubt they can smoke us out before then, so it's looking like our win."
**************************************************************************************************
That's how the day went, we had lunch on site, and kept facing each other in the mock up town. Without the element of
surprise, and with Karen no longer taking me lightly, we only managed to break even at three apiece. the second match all was going well until I stepped on a circle buried under the dirt street that stopped all movement from both myself and Grex, and I won the third by helping take control in the firefight that broke out.
After that it was all a blur of play, counter play, and gunfire.
Karen had more paint on her than I did though...a definite plus. We were wrapping up, packing things away to carry out to the vans when she finally asked the questions I was dreading.
"So how do you do that dodging thing, and the paintball thing with no gun?"
"Well like your powers mimicking Thor's, mine mimic Grex's. you remember the explanations for what he does right? He's been
tutoring me in how he does it."
Vague shock radiated from Karen, though her face betrayed none of it.
"You mean you can manipulate time and space too?"
"Not much, but a bit. what I was doing was I was dilating time around me, speeding myself up. then I was flicking paint balls at that increased speed, which meant that when they left my area of influence, they kept the inertia and speed, making them like bullets."
She whistled.
"Neat trick."
"Well the best part is I'm working on being able to pair it with runes; if I get it right any demon I hit will be banished in one shot. Like this morning I really wouldn't have been able to be banish Thor, I can't hold the dilation field long enough."
"You might be able to later; I mean you literally just became a summoner last week. your skill set is impressive, I don't
think we will need to bother holding your hand much."
"I think you just underestimated me."
Finally making it past the gate I stopped, noticing something very different.
My car.
My car had been a restored powder blue 1966 Chrysler Newport, and only barely resembled the car in front of me now. This
car was a glossy white, with purple accents and black trim. Everything that could be was chromed, the exhaust was under the
doors, and there was a hole in the hood where I could just see my engine peeking out.
The entire thing was painted with scenes from Disney's Snow White. Even the cut out for the engine was the doorway to the dwarves' home.
The team had stopped, watching me. I could hear a few snickers throughout the small crowd.
"Pearce."
"Yes Snow?"
"I think I'll murder you. Slowly."
He took a step back, paling.
"Hey hey hey, there are no scratches on it! It's perfect."
And just like that my rage ceased, cut off as if it had never been. I put my face in my hands to hide the smile.
"Just...why? Why would you butcher my car? And how? How could you manage this in 8 hours? The paint even looks dry!"
"Well as for the why, when you drive your own vehicle as one of us, it needs work done to it. There are no summoners allowed to drive standard cars. So you take a vehicle like this and you convert it; armor in the side panels, bulletproof glass, a few wards woven in...you make it a tank. With this thing, we didn't need to do much. As for how, well I know a guy, who knows a guy."
I couldn't help myself; during his explanation I had crossed the distance and ran my hand along the tank in question. The paint was dry, and had been done by a real artist; Snow white and her dwarves looked to be pulled right from the movie. The wicked witch on the trunk, apple out and offered to any tailgater, was a nice touch.
The seats were white, and real leather. Even the dashboard had been changed; it was chromed everywhere and a tachometer was added. The wheels were wider than standard and sported non standard rims. There was a retro bubble light on the dash from the 50's, and a new police radio and mini computer bolted in.
"But why the paint job?"
"Why not the paint job? By the way, no refunds."
He handed me the keys and the official police work order. I ignored the laughter as I scanned it...it was legitimate, signed by the captain. The receipt detailing the work was from a well known hot rod garage at the other end of town.
"You do realize I'm still going to get you all for this, right?"
The laughter stopped, but the smiles remained, matching my own. Good one, you assholes, I'll remember.
"Allow me, my master."
The smiles began to drop.
"I got it, Grex. I'll get this cop humor thing yet."
The car started right up, and purred...before it was a nice tame purr, now it was the contented sound of a big cat, wild and dangerous. Grex was next to me, not bothering to use the door. I peeled out, spraying mud on those few near me.
"By the way, I'm Snow White, doesn't that make you all the seven dwarves?"
The looks of dismay in the rear view mirror were priceless.
"So Grex, what was actually used on this thing?"
He knew exactly what I meant.
"Well, wards to make it more resilient to damage, to resist spells of all kinds, and tracking wards. Seems to be fairly
standard."
"Any holes? Anything we can improve?"
"Of course, with a little training and effort, we can improve this machine of yours."
So in other words, an experienced summoner did this. One other than Karen who knew a fair amount.
"So where are they? I can't see them. I can sort of feel them, but it's fuzzy."
"There are 4 engraved on the floor, under the carpeting...there are more in each door, one under the hood, one under the trunk hatch, and one directly over us hidden by the cloth here."
"Pretty thorough indeed."
"Always room for improvement my master...I'd suggest demonic repulsion as a start."
"Demonic...repulsion? never heard of that, what's it do?"
"Repels demons of course...none would be able to approach your transport save myself. It's rather costly in terms of power, so I'm not surprised it wasn't done."
"Really? Interesting."
I waited until the silence became uncomfortable.
"I'm wondering if I should have revealed my new tricks this early; might have been a better idea just to accept my pasting."
"Nonsense master, they would only attempt to 'train you' until you achieved parity."
Easy now, act nonchalant.
"It seems a bit fast to me."
"Master?"
"It seems like I'm improving much faster than I should. Doing these things, dodging spells, casting my own, working with armed people...just seems like I'm picking it up far too quickly."
"You are, you have only our pact to blame. However, you always had the ability to learn this quickly, I merely brought it out. It seems that Maeve Numens is a genius in all things summoner related."
Nothing I could really say to that. The rest of the trip was in relative silence.
I pulled into the police lot and shut my car off, shaking my head again as I got out and closed the door. No way was I going to be able to hide on the road now. The vans pulled in next to me and Pearce jumped out.
"Hey, forgot to tell you, tomorrow is your day off. Enjoy. If you want, I can clock you out a bit early."
"Um, sure, OK. Thanks."
I got back in, Grex following suit (and using the door this time, I noted).
"Well that was weird. Screw it, I want fries again."
"Might I try some master?"
My gimlet stare could detect no deception, only honest joy at the prospect of eating greasy food.
"Sure, I'll get you some too."
(tbc)
I woke up, a dream involving temporal physics problems marching on their merry way to eat me still fresh in my head. A day off. It was 8am, I had spent the entire waking night before with Grex on the couch, going over the basics of time dilation. the aura I could generate with a thought and mere flexing of mental muscle could speed time around me up, or slow it down. With more time and practice, the aura would likely expand. but if I tried anything truly weird with time, like going back or forward in it, or reversing it, I'd likely destroy the universe...provided I ever developed the sheer amount of power needed for such a thing.
Good to know.
That lecture was delivered in what was almost a monotone, as if Grex could care less whether all existence ended. Maybe that was true. when I asked him if he could do any of that, he replied no, he lacked the power to punch the needed wormhole in space and time. then he rattled off equations which lost me in seconds. I had him to thank for the nightmare. Speaking of which....
Did I remember to dismiss him?
"Grex?"
I pulled myself from the siren's song of my bed, finding out I was dressed only in my underwear. As I pulled my robe on I heard a noise from the kitchen.
"Grex is that you?"
"Of course it is master, who else would it be?"
Well I had to admit a prowler or burglar was unlikely.
"So you've been here all night?"
"Yes; a bit colder than I'm used to, but a pleasant night over all."
"Did you behave?"
"Of course my master, you would be most cross if I...took initiative."
"That I would. So what did you do?"
"Watched television of course. The discovery channel is most intriguing. I took the liberty of pouring myself some of your coffee; you don't mind do you?"
"Not at all. What was on? You don't need sleep?"
"A documentary on hyenas master. As for sleep I need some, but far less than humans do."
I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a cup. Nothing seemed out of place.
"You really did nothing weird? No killing all humans or anything like that? Tell the truth."
He sighed.
"Master I did nothing harmful to humans the entire night. I watched the discovery channel."
"Alright."
I do wish I could believe him without ordering him to tell the truth; it always felt as if I was wrestling a live alligator. Or at least, that's how I imagined it. I sipped coffee and thought. Grex sipped coffee and watched me, somehow managing to fall short of an intense and uncomfortable gaze.
"Something is bothering me, and I want you to explain it."
"Anything my master."
"What is this entire 'hell hierarchy'? the levels of hell and all that?"
He actually managed to look uneasy. I took that as a sign that I was on the right track.
"That will take some time to explain."
"It's our day off. We've got time."
I rummaged around, finding some generic Raisin bran, settling back as I poured the milk into it. I started munching while he collected his thoughts.
"Alright my master, it's like this. there are ten of what Dante called circles, or levels in hell. Dante however got a few details wrong. He isn't really to blame, the demon he sold his soul to lied to him. I can't offer you all the details obviously, we just don't have enough time to go over everything. But here is how it works.
The circles are actually numbered in opposite fashion from what Dante was told. Circle 9 is the first circle you approach as you enter the gate...a portal downwards, which can sometimes just appear as an actual gate. In that circle, is both limbo and purgatory. As such it is one of the largest circles in hell."
I couldn't hold my peace.
"But isn't limbo like a form of heaven? And doesn't purgatory allow for the cleansing of the soul's debt?"
"Correct on both counts according to what mortals know master, but not completely. Limbo is a deficient heaven, where those who are damned to go are in pleasant fields, rolling hills, and well constructed homes and hamlets. And every waking moment they exist there, they are made aware that it could be so much more...if they accepted God. They are burdened with that decision constantly."
He grinned, a humorless and unsettling showing of teeth.
"They are the rebels of creation, following our own glorious example. those in purgatory, have accepted god's will, and yet sinned. It should be noted that in neither realm were grievous sins committed; those individuals are invariably placed lower. But the thief stealing to feed his family and those humans who murder to save other mortals are an example of what ends up in this realm. It should also be noted that neither of these realms have a large population compared to the others.
Until recently, I was the regent of that circle, the supreme ruler of it. I stepped down to attend you. I served in the name of a demoness known as 'the lady of lost hope'. Our power is...low compared to demons of the other realms. By title I was one of Lucifer's elite...but by power, the real test of rank the lords of the 9th circle are considered the weakest. A good count from the first circle could well best me, as could the other higher ranking dukes of hell."
Well that was interesting. I got the runt of the litter.
"However,' he continued. 'we are in a unique position. The lady of lost hope is more powerful on earth than in hell; on earth she may well be almost as strong as Lucifer himself, due to the nature of her power, which as you know, is space and time manipulation. Not very powerful in hell, where time is dilated as a matter of course in order to punish those deemed wicked, but very powerful on earth, where she can rule both time and space with ease. this fundamental nature in her power of course, bleeds down to all her servants, great and small."
Mind blown.
"So wait, there actually is a God? Holy host? Angels we have heard on high?"
"Of course my master, I wouldn't be speaking of such if there wasn't."
"So where is he? Where are his angels? Humanity is getting pasted, what's he doing?"
Grex spread his hands.
"I've no idea my master, I have not seen the being nor any of his angels since mortals made their first reed huts."
Curious choice of words there.
"I'll be asking more about that later; circles in hell for now. So why were you needed as regent? Where has your duchess been?"
"She is a prophesied demon of great power; she has not yet been born. I was chosen by Lucifer himself to rule the 9th circle till she should arrive, then pave the way for her."
"So demons are still being born?"
"Not often. In fact a new demon hasn't been born for some time."
"Alright, getting sidetracked here. 8th Circle?"
"Ahh, the 8th. Home of Lilith and her brood, the succubi."
He waggled his eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes.
"Deep and abiding passions hold sway there, lust is the watchword. The adulterers, the pedophiles, the sexual deviants...this is their new home."
I couldn't stop the shudder.
"And what is the power dominant there?"
"charms of course, and illusions. Anything to enhance lust or fool a victim into letting their passions get the better of them. Succubi aren't really known for their natural combat capability, though some can surprise you."
"Seems simple enough...hey wait, does this mean all the circles have a predominant demon type?"
"Mostly. There are demons that are chosen by the ruler of that circle, and while various other demons living there may be stronger, screwing with one of the chosen staff is taking your existence into your hands."
"Does the 9th circle have one? you didn't mention any."
"Yes we do, Eriynes...they look like winged humans, have a not totally warranted reputation as eaters of human flesh, and are moderately proficient in all forms of human style combat."
Hmmm...so he was a male Eriynes then. Had to be.
"How good are they really? honest assessment here."
He frowned then grimaced.
"They are about as good individually as a succubus is. The succubus has stronger charms, but their magic and combat capability is about equal."
"So they are the weakest demons in hell?"
"They are among the weakest demons in hell, yes. They can grow to be quite strong, but that is usually through learning. they are the chosen of the lady of lost hope, and as such you can summon them without a lengthy ritual or need of true names."
"Wait I can?"
"Of course, you have the power of a ruler of the 9th circle, as you requested. Such summonings are part of that power."
"That means you can do it too, right?"
I watched his response carefully. He looked pretty offended, wings rustling behind him.
"Of course it does. It is the play of infants for us."
I stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"No need for that now, later. I have more questions. You can have more coffee if you want."
"Thank you master."
He poured himself another cup and took a moment, composing himself to continue.
"So anything else interesting about the 8th circle?"
"Not that I can think of off hand. So, moving on?"
I nodded.
"Alright, 7th circle. The 7th circle is the home of the gluttons; your habitual eaters being the least of those. Drug addicts, drunks, your obsessive hoarders, etc. The realm is the home of the demon dogs and lemores, with Beelzebub presiding. It's a real pest hole, always raining, cold, and filthy."
Charming.
"The 6th circle is filled with the greedy; those who hoard and chase money or other expensive possessions they don't need. Everyone there has a blast trying to defend each others 'fortunes' from each other, it's hilarious. The circle is mainly the home of the Glazu and Vrock, who do a decent job of making that place torment for it's denizens. Mammon rules there."
"The 5th circle is filled with the wrathful; those who commit sin in needless rage. The marshland fed by the river Styx, which forms a natural moat around Hell's only city Niffleheim. Asmodeus is it's duke, and he uses various other demons to administer his realm, most of those able to survive the effect of the waters in some way."
I had to ask.
"Do demons get affected by the waters?"
"Not those that are strong enough. Yes, before you ask, I qualify."
I smiled, getting another cup of coffee for myself.
"Of course you do."
"So, 4th circle. Your standard flaming hell for heretics. this level is Ruled by Leviathan and administered by the various
Baal'Rog and Cacodemons. Leviathan also guards the gate to Nifflehiem, much as Cerberus guards the gate to hell."
I nodded. No real questions there. So far Dante was being turned on it's ear. Well, maybe one.
"What's a Cacodemon?"
"Your average horned wingless demon, human sized, you've seen examples in older literature, if nowhere else."
"So like a bigger form of imp?"
Not all imps had wings after all. He nodded.
"Now, 3rd circle. This one is rather complex to explain. It's a desert, much hotter than your Sahara. In it are the scrub brush and various rotted fruits which nourish the roaming Wyverns of the area. These are the suicides and those that are violent against their own, like your average gang member or violent thief. It is of course, administered by Wyverns and Belphegor."
"Sloth?"
"The very same."
"How does that even work?"
"Tell me, have you ever known a violent criminal to bother using their mind? Or try hard to make money that isn't on the backs of others? A dumb thug is as slothful as it gets."
Something seemed wrong with that to me, but I wasn't sure what.
"Good point, I guess. So, next."
"Well not done yet; Syz, your lake of blood and fire is also here, where a few of your war criminals reside. Attila the hun, a few roman generals, some Italians...."
"Hitler?"
"Oh no, Hitler warrants special attention."
His cold smile made me shudder.
"Sorry master, I did not mean to frighten you."
"I wasn't frightened, just...an involuntary reaction."
He smiled, more warmly this time. It seemed to hold a hint of mockery, though to me or himself I wasn't sure.
"Sure it was. Alright, moving on. Next circle, circle number 2. False witness, or fraud. Sorcerers, astrologers, false prophets, The realm is ruled by Shait'an and administered mainly by Minotaur, cacodemons and the occasional Baal'rog. This place is also the home of those who used their positions to sell redemption for favors or goods. Quite a few popes burning there. Those that steal through fraud can also be found here."
He looked up and I nodded; I had no real questions about that one yet.
"And finally, circle 1: Pride. This is the home of Lucifer himself, administered by any demons strong enough to rise through the ranks. From the lowest Eriyne, to the highest Baal'rog. This circle is a place of beyond freezing cold, a place of the worst extremes."
I interrupted.
"So is Lucifer really a big winged 3 headed demon in the center, screaming and chewing on Judas?"
His eyes positively sparkled with held mirth.
"Of course not, while that part of Dante is true enough...that Lucifer is a statue, much like the one mentioned in "the wizard of Oz". A fine joke."
"Um, sure, I guess. So what does Lucifer really look like?"
"Whatever he wants."
Well that was specific.
"At any rate, Hitler is here...he supplanted Judas by betraying all humanity. His fate is most unpleasant, as befitting his station."
"How can you even punish the bastard enough?"
I know he caught my mutterings, but he said nothing in response, waiting patiently.
"Well, that is quite the lesson. More coffee?"
"Yes please."
"I noticed you didn't really say much about the dominant power or ability of each realm after circle 8."
He paused, coffee almost to his lips.
"that is due to their nature. Most of those powers follow the sin of the realm itself. For example, those of wrath are capable of a berserk fury which can be amazingly destructive, in many cases being able to fight long after their death. At least until those enemies in front of them are defeated."
Hmm, so how does time manipulation fit with my circle? More time for them to be punished? Never mind, not that important right now.
"So...why are you demons destroying all humanity? I mean, why do it at all? You're stronger than we are, not like we are a threat to you."
He turned grim and drained his coffee.
"Hate of course. Soul deep and unbridled hatred."
"Why hate us? I mean, we couldn't really do anything to you at the time you rebelled; we as a people likely didn't even know God or the Devil existed at the time."
"You didn't. But who said we hated you? Of course we hate you, but that is merely a shadow of the hatred we hold for our father."
I was sure my jaw was slack for a good minute.
"You mean to tell me you are involved in killing all humanity over daddy issues?"
"Humans caused the Fall. Half hairless apes that we were supposed to serve as if they were father himself. After serving God for millennium, protecting and administering all creation without question, we were to be thrown from our place at the side of God by a lower form of existence. the very idea was laughable."
"So you rebelled."
He took a deep breath, wings fluttering in obvious agitation.
"We were to be placed in a subservient role to a lizard-monkey with delusions of grandeur. What would you do in our place? Father refused to explain himself, only demanding obedience. what would you do?"
I thought about it while he put me on the spot, taking note of his curiously intense but unreadable expression.
"Honestly, I don't know, and it doesn't matter. Just seems like a weird reason, after all. I thought angels trusted God."
His sudden viscous smirk surprised me...I was getting more emotion from him today than I'd seen since we met.
"Angels do. Demons don't."
"I see."
"At any rate, that is your primer on the true geography of hell. Any other questions?"
"Yes, one. Niffleheim, you weren't too clear on where it was."
"Ahh, well you see the marshy areas the River Styx feed into split around Niffleheim, which is a truly large city. London, New York, Tokyo...really do not compare in size. That is where Lucifer resides, and where the primary administration of damnation takes place. It isn't in any one one circle, but it has levels of its own that reach all the lower circles. The rest is standard topography for earth, plains, hills, mountains in our case."
"OK, got it. We're done for now, but I'm going to have more questions later. You can stick around here, but I'm going to be reading. No tricks or anything if you do stay."
"I'll stay master; after all, I can protect you more effectively if I remain close."
"Alright."
I looked at the clock; it was 10am...I could have sworn it was much later. Grabbing my latest magic primer I tried to dive into it. Some time later, as I was rereading a page for the 4th time, I realized I wasn't taking my mind off of anything.
Today was the day. I wouldn't simmer anymore, instead I'd confront mom today. She was currently at her shrinks unless she'd changed her schedule. But she would be home by 3pm. If she wasn't I'd simply wait for her. Grex raised an eyebrow as I started to pace; he had apparently decided to 'correct' a few of the books on demonic theory I'd taken with me.
He was crossing things out with a red sharpie then writing in the margins. Good thing those books were reprints.
"What's the matter, my master?"
"Nothing at all, just felt the urge to move a bit."
I settled back in and managed to actually focus on the book this time. The book was explaining the link between blood and summons. Seems that blood had aspects of 4 of the elements of existence, according to the book. Earth (iron) air (oxygen and other gases)water (water) and will (living matter). Only one missing was fire. this meant that when you wanted to quickly summon a demon bound to you, bloodletting was the best option, as it called on four of five elements.
Of course you could also just tattoo a circle on yourself somewhere and use that. most people used bloodletting right on their marks, to ensure a problem free summon. the blood provides the power and elemental link, and the mark or tattoo ensures you get the right demon in your long distance call.
Seemed odd to me, since I could reach Grex any time. I mean I knew that was unusual, but I knew I had no mark anywhere. I didn't need to use blood. I didn't need a circle.
"Hey Grex?"
He looked up, still crossing out a section with squeaky strokes from the marker.
"Yes my master?"
"Why am I able to summon you with no athame, tattoo or blood?"
Wordlessly he unbuttoned his dress shirt and pulled it down. On his left pectoral was what appeared to all intent, as a tattoo. It depicted an angelic silhouette with skeletons bowed around her in worship. It was a mark.
"Ahh the confusion you show feeds me. It is simple my master. I am the one marked...when you wished for the power of a lord of hell, you received them. Do you think that those who rule hell do not have the power to summon those who serve them at will? They can. And since I agreed to serve you, you may summon me any time you wish. You may also summon any demons that work for me, assuming you know their names."
I sat back down, feeling as if my legs had been cut out from under me.
"So that mark...."
"Is your mark, yes. All demons from the 9th circle have it now, somewhere on their person. They are yours to command."
"Does anyone else know that lords of hell can do that? Other humans?"
"Not that I am aware of, though a few of the higher placed summoners might. Like your general, who commands a count of the first circle. After all counts can command lesser servitors."
I had to think about that a moment. I did not want the other summoners to know how easy it would be for me to suddenly increase the demon population.
"Servitors? You mean lesser demons that aren't under their direct control?"
"Yes, as in lesser servants of their boss. They can also command lesser demons of other lords, provided they have no orders from their ranking demon...much like a captain from another squad can give you orders to follow."
I see. And that meant he could do it, and I could too. Two Epiphanies hit at once.
"Oh been meaning to ask. Why were you and the generals summon looking at each other like two pissed tomcats?"
"You refer to the bad blood between Gradnez and I? It is simple. I am a duke regent of the 9th circle, he is a count of the 1rst. I technically outrank him, but our level of power is...similar. He feels as if I am inferior."
I snorted.
"And of course he is the inferior one."
"Of course master, as you say."
"Another question. you have a list of servitors?"
He smiled, a warm genuine thing.
"I have a few in mind if you want to increase your repertoire. It is a short list at the moment, as a certain amount of trust is involved. Would you mind a slight delay while I finish my corrections?"
"Sure, I don't mind."
I made more coffee, and filled my cup. Noon now, lunchtime. But I wasn't hungry. I thought about giving some coffee to Grex, still curled up in the large comfy chair as he doodled all over my book. But, he's supposed to serve me. He can get his own!
"You should eat something master."
"Not hungry at the moment; if you want more coffee you can serve yourself."
"Thank you master, I enjoy your coffee."
I went back to reading.
"It's just coffee Grex, not like anyone can screw it up."
"Even so, I enjoy it. Here you are."
He pressed a sticky note in my hands. There were two words on it, obviously names: Abnex and Sarex.
"those two are a good start."
"Relatives of yours?"
"Of a sort my master, they are both minor lords of the 9th circle whose judgement I trust, and serve me faithfully. They should serve you with equal vigor."
"Especially when you tell them to, right?"
"As you say. All you need do is call them as you do me, and they will come."
He started in on another book, sipping coffee and marking away. I delved deeper into summoning theory, now that I'd refreshed the basics I'd been wondering about. The circles for different demons were different, that's interesting. Means I can cold summon a Baal'rog or minotaur just by using slightly different geometry.
Then I looked up and noticed that it was nearly 2:30. I set the book down gently and went to get ready.
"Something wrong my master? You seem...tense."
"Just got somewhere to be Grex. Get ready, you're coming along."
(tbc)
Once dressed in my wonderful fatigues, Grex and I hit the lobby. The usual scene, unobtrusive guards, summoners racing to and fro, the manager behind his desk. I pulled out my new standard issue phone and dialed my dad's cell.
"Numens."
"Hi dad. I just thought you'd like to know I'm headed home to see mom. See you when you get off work, OK?"
"Maeve...."
I hung up. I did say I'd let him know, I didn't say I'd wait on him...and I needed at least some time alone with my loving mother to get the proper answers.
I drove carefully, obeying all traffic laws and taking the utmost care. I reached my old home right at 3pm. Mom's car was in the drive. Obeying military doctrine I parked right behind her; her only escape from me was now on foot.
The engine as still warm; she had just arrived home.
I checked once before I knocked; Grex was right behind me, a looming yet comfortable presence.
The door opened on the second knock, and my anger throbbed. There she was, right in front of me. Taller than I was now, still the same auburn haired playboy bunny centerfold she was months ago. A relief of sorts. I struggled to say something but her guileless eyes stared directly into my soul, so I had to settle.
"Hello, mother."
My words finished what looking behind me started, her guileless eyes wide she stumbled back into the house and fell against something with a thump and a crash. I entered to find her bent over the oak coffee table, the vase which was normally filled with carnations (and which I knew to be quite expensive) shattered. Mom was currently crab walking her way through the mess, uncaring of the cuts she was opening on her hands.
"Hello, Samuel."
Wait, what? Samuel? Grex was staring at mom with an almost tender expression, leaving me no doubt to whom he was referring. Oh of course, mom's name hadn't been bartered, so she'd simply changed it. she stared between Grex and I, back and forth several times so fast I feared for whiplash. I tried to see to her, but she kept crawling away from me.
Then so fast I barely saw her move she lunged, tackling me and wrapping arms around me hard enough to make my ribs creak. We both plowed into the wall and slid down it.
"Oh Melvin I'msosorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry...!"
"Mom! Mom stop. Stop. Tell me why you sold me out mom."
She looked up into my eyes, her own brimming with tears. I felt like I'd just kicked a puppy, but I hardened my own heart. Then her own mood changed and I could see the adult come out again, frost overtaking her expression like a slow moving wave.
"I'll tell you everything. Come on lets go into the kitchen. I'll make tea."
So now it was more waiting. Mom stared at me, eyes watering but gaze unexpectedly piercing as we waited on the water to heat. She turned to Grex.
"She's a bit...lush, isn't she?"
"Your genetics Samuel, I'm not to blame at all."
"Mom, why? Just start with that."
"Melvin, I...."
Grex interrupted.
"Maeve now, that prior name no longer belongs to her."
Her tears started falling. My hands twitched to comfort her, but I resisted.
"...I see. Maeve, I was a boy. I was raised to be a man all my life. I won't say your grandparents were completely sexist, but they did have some old fashioned ideas about what men and women were to do. I was a jock; I lettered in football and hunted on weekends. I graduated with honors and more than a few women sought me out for companionship. I was an outgoing alpha male.
Then came the selection, which of course ended in my being chosen, along with a friend of mine. I attended basic, which I don't believe has changed much. is it still basically a prison sentence?"
I nodded, not trusting my voice. She sighed and continued.
"So I attended basic, and all was pretty much going as expected; I was on my way to become squad leader, regardless of whatever I summoned. I can only guess it was similar for you. At any rate, summoning night I hit what I thought was the jackpot."
She nodded to Grex, and he nodded gravely back.
"Grex popped out like a demented jack in a box, and told me he'd bow to no man, nor serve any human. I replied that he'd serve this human and like it. And we bartered. I could tell almost immediately that he wanted to serve me almost as badly as I wanted him to, for some reason. I bargained for a measure of his power and his service... and his price at first was years from my
life. I was such a selfish bastard back then."
She looked to me, searching for something, but I was playing poker with the best of them. Her face fell and she sighed deeply, seeming to age 20 years in a second.
"We renegotiated. I kept my price, and gained some nice time dilation powers. Made me a wargod on the battlefield. Grex... well he got the backdoor to you. The ability to answer your summoning first, should you summon. The ability to tweak your understanding of his price... and my silence about it. A full window of opportunity to you."
She poured the tea then, with slow deliberate movements. Serving me before speaking up again.
"You have to understand honey, I was a guy. A boorish bastard who wasn't even thinking of having kids, or what could happen if I did. My survival through the night wasn't a guarantee, let alone any other day. I knew I was going directly to the next phase of basic and into battle. France was getting hammered and while we were holding them back, as always more summoners were needed."
She drained her own tea in one gulp as if it were liquor, and made another.
"I never wanted nor expected to have children. Then Grex pulled his little trick, because I was stupid enough to leave it open, and I wanted kids even less. I was still a guy in my head after all. I also thought the transformation would wear off at the end of my service. How could I explain to a child that I was his mommy with a penis? But Grex was as good as his word, watching my back even when I didn't order him too, or couldn't spot the danger fast enough. He saved my life on his own initiative four times in the first tour alone.
I was given a brief leave, and while on it my first squad, being led by my friend who'd graduated with me, was wiped out. I was sent to another that lost their summoner, and met your father. He was just a grunt, not even an nco... wet behind the ears. I hated him from the start, he was always insisting in being chivalrous. Then I grew to know him, and hated him even more. He
was everything I wasn't. honest, forthright, honorable to a fault.
And he loved me from the first somehow, even while I was spiraling out of control and becoming an even meaner bitch than before. He never raised his voice to me and never tried to argue, no matter how much of an ass I was. I tried to get him killed at first. I sent him on so many scouting missions...."
"Mom? Focus please."
I'd interrupted a bit more harshly than I'd intended, and the tears started again.
"Sorry honey. So a second tour, then a third. I came back home with your father attached to me like a puppy. Served six years with distinction, all the while keeping Grex on this plane so often. the strain was...immense. Back stateside I was diagnosed by the head shrinkers with mania and psychosis, still in it's infant stages. I started seeing things that... well they were there,
but no one else could see them."
She still did of course, but I didn't want to interrupt and tell her so.
"So I was ordered off the lines so that I didn't lose it and kill an army. Transferred here where they could watch me, and attached to the police to root out demonic presences state side and train new summoners. Your father was assigned to the police here, his own request. Even after my war was over he followed me.
But then a chance question led to my first true breakdown. Grex told me I was never going to get my old body back; that I was female for life. At the end of the screaming and knives your father was there. This was what he had been waiting for all along, I knew that. But it just didn't seem to matter. He was everything I never was, and everything I'd never be again, and he was
there for me. Just always there, no matter what."
She took a deep breath and drained her tea again while I sipped mine. what do you know, she WAS spiking it with something. I didn't even see her do it.
"We were married a day after the asylum let me out. You were born 10 months later. I didn't mean for it to happen. It just did. I knew, even as my mind was slipping. I knew he would come for you. He made every excuse to be around you, watching you. I would order him away, only to find him back through some loophole, watching you in your crib. knowing what he was going to do to you... Well it finished the job.
I managed to make it to my 10 year term, but you know how I am now. I'm broken. I tried to maintain my distance, but you were such a little darling. You were so gentle and serious, and the more I came to love you, the worse the pressure became. when the time was up and I lost my power, Grex, and even the ability to research ways to help you. Well, that was the final straw."
To my memory my mother was always loving, if completely crazy and prone to fits of screaming. Not to mention the suicide attempts. But she was always kind and patient with me, always ready with a smile. How could I reconcile that with this portrait of a cold woman that never wanted me?
She saw none of this, beginning to lose the battle in the war she was always having with herself.
"But now, look at you! you're so beautiful, you make a wonderful daughter. With Grex by your side none will be able to kill you. And such pretty wings...."
Her face locked in awe, she shambled over to me, reaching behind me for something only she could see.
"Mother! Focus, please."
She hugged me tightly yet again.
"Maeve, my wonderful daughter, please don't hate me. Please, anything but that. I love you, please don't..."
"Mother! I...have to go."
My throat locked up as I peeled her off, rushing to the door. Grex right behind me I threw it open and ran out, my mother's incoherent screams beginning to sound. Dad stood in front of me on the walk, his car next to mine with the engine still ticking. He must have dropped everything to have gotten here so quickly. I found my voice, after a fashion.
"Sorry dad. I needed to know."
He nodded and walked past me into the house, to do what he did best.
"Grex do you know how to drive?"
"I do Mistress."
I threw him the keys.
"Make yourself useful then."
I got in the passenger seat and pulled out my phone. Karen answered on the first ring.
"What's up Snow?"
"Are you free Kare?"
"Sure, what's up?"
I had to take a breath.
"Look, I can't say right now, just please meet me at my place with booze."
"How much booze?"
"As much as you can get there. I'll explain when I can."
I hung up and focused on breathing. The great shuddering breaths convinced me that maybe I wasn't handling this as well as I thought. Grex drove in silence, with the same efficiency and care he gave everything else.
"So what can you tell me that mom couldn't? I know you tinkered more."
"Of course I did my mistress. I could not leave your future to chance. I drew your father and mother together, and set up the right mood to ensure your birth. Your mother's insanity is however, hers alone. Your father is every bit as you see him. I did not alter either personality. I did ensure your father survived your mother's early wrath."
I suspected, but even with suspicions I couldn't help but stare.
"Why? Why go through all this trouble to screw around with humanity?"
"Are you asking me why demons are currently plaguing humanity mistress?"
"Yes I am, and you'll tell me the truth."
"Easily. Freedom."
"Freedom?!?"
"Yes, freedom. Give me liberty or give me all of creation burning down around me, to paraphrase one of the monkeys you look up to. We rebelled and were imprisoned, remember? God wanted us to kill his chosen, he set them up so beautifully for us. Humans have no defense but what father gave you. When you summon us, you circumvent that protection... and our prison. Sure father
couldn't intervene himself or send his angels. kind of makes me wonder why he doesn't. Perhaps he'd spout more nonsense about that free will he says you have."
"wait, you mean you can't choose?"
"Of course we can't, we are subject to his will. He gave the greatest gift possible in all of creation to unwashed monkeys, while ignoring all his own faithful. Those who had served for millennium."
"But you rebelled. Doesn't that mean you can do what you want now?"
"No, there are still limits. We are still bound by his law. Lucifer himself is the only one that was powerful enough to bring us some measure of freedom. A freedom that is by no means complete."
"Hmm, learn something new every day. So what does killing all of humanity have to do with you earning your freedom?"
"I never claimed it did."
Right, of course. Though I wouldn't be forgetting this conversation, I knew I didn't want to pursue that particular avenue of discussion at the moment. My mind was thus freed from any more distraction, and homed in again on earlier events.
A mistake of course.
"Mistress, we are here."
I came out of my reverie to find the car parked in my parking space, the engine off, and Grex gazing at me with some small measure of concern.
"Sorry."
I got out and walked with Grex hovering over me like the proverbial mother hen. I was able to wave and nod to the people I recognized, and even give a pleasant hello or two. I often surprise myself. I made it all the way up to my apartment.
"Alright Grex, go home."
"but mistress, I..."
"Now, Grex. Go back to hell."
He bowed and left. I opened my door to find Karen already inside, puttering around in the kitchen.
"Pretty sure I locked up, you break and enter?"
She looked up and sucked in air like a jet intake.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, Grex is a bastard that manipulated my life and my mother is a bitch that never wanted me. How was your day?"
She was across the room so fast I thought she'd figured out my time dilation secret, and leading me to the couch. I slumped down on it and shattered like glass. She held me for what seemed like hours while I cried, with an almost fabled patience. Finally I could cry no more, and she moved.
"Here."
I took the offered drink, a Margarita. I downed half of it and started telling her what I'd learned today in between great shuddering breaths, pausing whenever the ocean of despair threatened to drag me under again. I was nursing my third Margarita when I finally finished.
"Wow Maeve, your mom is all kinds of screwed up. But you have to admit it's about what you expected, I can see that much on your face."
"Yeah it is, it's just that suspecting it is one thing. Hearing it out loud is much worse. So very hard to reconcile my loving but slightly wacky and very crazy mom with the cold heartless bitch I glimpsed today. I can deal with it. Sorry for falling apart there."
"Don't be, you were due. Call me any time. So, I recommend lots of movies. Many many happy movies tonight, with wonderful happy endings. Let's see what your netflix service has for zombie movies...."
Wait what? Zombie movies are happy movies?
"So what are you going to do about Grex?"
"What can I do? He's already done the damage. At least I know for sure he has no further loopholes to exploit. He's out of the ones mom gave him, and he doesn't have any I gave him."
"That you know of."
"That I know of. Of course I meant loopholes given on purpose. I can't fix the past, and he can't either. Even if we could, I wouldn't know how. Make my mom less of a bitch? How?"
Karen found some random third rate zombie movie she liked the look of and turned it on. I could tell the credits would be the best part of it.
"I was more referring to limiting ways he could pull crap like that in the future. you have the power to do that, to make sure he can't screw with any future generations like this."
Oh crap, I did, didn't I?
"Good idea, I'll see about it tomorrow. He can rot tonight."
"Agreed. Popcorn?"
"Sure."
(tbc)
That thrice damned alarm again. Every time I slap it off the nightstand into the wall it breaks, but then is fine and back in position the moment my back is turned. It was infuriating. Today was back to the grind. I would be on call, but not active duty. Karen cleared it after last night.
I completely understood why. I was still a mess.
So no training today, even though later on I would be expected to be at the base for tomorrow. I knew Karen would be by soon so I snagged some coffee and started toast. Toast is essential to a good day.
"Grex, Veni huc!"
He appeared in the chair in front of me. He actually looked contrite.
"You called mistress?"
"Grex you are never to pull the crap you pulled on my family to anyone else. Got it?"
"I...understand mistress. I will not manipulate such situations again... unless you order it of course."
Well I never would, so that works.
"Good. You may have some coffee, but save some for Karen."
"Thank you mistress."
The book reading and coffee sipping calmed me a bit, esoteric elements theory taking some of the sting out. At least till I read far enough.
"Who the hell could believe this crap?!? The four elements making up matter themselves? The body being made up of the right elements mixed? This book is garbage!"
I caught Grex's glance at the cover.
"You're correct, it was written well before human understanding of such concepts of cells and atoms existed, and is therefore incomplete. It does however still serve as a viable method to learning spells based on nature, for those that can fathom such."
He actually just said it. While I was still pissed at him.
"Are you calling me stupid?"
"Not at all. I am merely saying that it is a simplistic approach to creating spells dealing with nature. Obviously with the advancements in mankind's understanding that approach is dated. You don't need it in any case."
"I don't? Why...."
Karen chose that moment to interrupt, her yell of 'hi!' probably woke everyone on the floor. She didn't bother with knocking, or a key. By the way she all but teleported to my side, she was also a fan of blitzkrieg.
"How are you this morning?"
The chipper tone belied the concern in her eyes. I replied in like tone.
"I'm fine, I make it a point to only shatter once a day. Grex and I have just finished 'the talk', where he agrees to be less of a scumbag because I order it."
Karen spared a glance at Grex, who remained impassive.
"Good talk."
"I liked it."
She poured herself some coffee and sat.
"So what are you planning to do today? We will need to have you at the base by tomorrow for training, but that leaves some time."
"Not a clue."
"Then let's wake up a bit then go have some fun."
Fun huh?
"Alright I'll bite, what do summoners do for fun?"
"A little of this, a little of that. We'll think of something. For starters lets just get some breakfast in us and then drive around like we have somewhere to be. Then we can simply do whatever strikes us."
"Alright. Grex, cook us breakfast. I want eggs sausage and toast...and no surprises of any kind."
"As you wish mistress."
Karen's thumbs up wasn't exactly a surprise. I swear she thinks with her stomach.
"That's telling him. Last summoner that didn't make sure ended up with some questionable meat on his menu... it was a bad day."
The silence as we were eating quickly became a bit awkward. I didn't mind that much though.
"So um, looks like element magic."
Karen seemed to though.
"Yeah, that book is a load of crap. Flies full in the face of science."
"Um, isn't what we do flying in the face of science?"
"Possibly, do we know enough to be sure?"
"Ummm, we do?"
"Maybe we do, maybe we don't. Not willing to give up on magic being explainable by science just yet."
The bemusement chased the confusion from her face.
"Good luck with that."
"Meh. Everyone needs a hobby. So you about ready?"
"Let me finish my coffee."
"Alright, be right back."
Ok, so I was a bit neurotic. Wasn't going to eat breakfast without brushing my teeth after. Dressing was probably a good idea too. Some fatigues later and it was time to go.
"Ok let's roll."
"Alright, your car."
"Fine."
It took me a few steps before I realized we were short one.
"Grex get out here, you're coming."
"Of course mistress."
He came out and locked up... and had a travel mug in his hand.
"Seriously?"
"What mistress? I like your coffee. Seems a shame to waste any."
"Whatever."
At least driving was relaxing. Not as relaxing knowing a demon was in the seat behind me, and Karen singing along to pop tunes she inflicted my radio with wasn't helping. No idea who it was, but they were annoying.
"Onward! Take a left here."
I dealt with the instructions, mainly through deep breaths and counting. Then I realized where she was telling me to go.
"The mall? Really? Haven't we...."
"No! No, there is no such thing as too much shopping. You need real clothes rather than just fatigues. Besides there are other things to do at the mall."
"Like what?"
"Like movies, and the food court, and book stores, and...."
"Alright, alright, I get it."
I parked out in the parking lot boonies as is my usual wont, hiking past the tumbleweeds. Karen looked more than a little put out, but I found it hard to care. The crazy grin as she started by dragging me into shops however was something I cared about. I was rather forced to.
Petty revenge apparently involves make up counters.
I put my foot down in time to catch the early matinee, late '60s spaghetti summoner movies I wanted to laugh through. They were every bit as lol worthy as anticipated. Karen was her usual loud self and even Grex chuckled a few times. The only minor hitch was I had to pay to get him in... after all he was passing as human.
I never liked these movies much as a child; my mom used to call them trash, and I figured she of all people would know. Dad watched a few of the more notable ones, but I didn't want to know. Catching up now only seemed fitting. And of course, the very activity that was supposed to get me thinking of something else brought me back to my parents.
Sometimes I was a genius. Yul Brenner made an excellent summoner though. All dark and evil seeming. How they managed to get that one guy look like such a realistic demon though, I'll never know. It went well beyond rubber or latex.
Very much the opposite of say, godzilla.
Nevertheless what little we could watch of it (all day matinee, and we had to leave after 3 movies in) did it's job. We were both laughing so hard that the ushers were all set to ask us to leave...then they really saw us. They just quietly walked back out. We got the message though and stifled ourselves till we made it out of the theatre.
"Can you believe that guy? He's all having that touching dying scene with demons all around him and they don't just rip his head off once! Such bullcrap."
I shook my head as Karen skipped ahead of me; that statement had drawn a few stares from pissed off movie-goers.
"well that's hollywood for you. Didn't want to show the real blood and guts back in those days."
My reply of course, drew more stares, this time from people actually looking at us and taking in my fatigues... and my hair. While the lighting was a bit low to see my eyes, white hair was usually a sign of someone surviving an incident of great stress. Car wrecks, drowning, combat, and most importantly demon attack... all these things had been known to turn human hair white.
I was encouraging people to make that assumption. My playful mood wasn't really logical and acting like a grizzled veteran wasn't really charitable of me... but I didn't give a damn.
"Ugh, I'm already sick of packing."
I got in my car and Karen followed with a shrug.
"You'll get used to it."
"I really hope not, but you're probably right."
"The best way to do it is to have 3 or 4 different bags, all for different places. Like a duffel full of fatigues and stuff for the base, and extra robes and such for the station, and regular clothes for just whatever. Then you put them all in your car and vary between them."
"Sounds like too much work; laundry day would suck."
Karen nodded.
"It does, especially when you forget a bag. But usually the benefits outweigh the stinky risks."
"I'll think about it."
Of course to truly have such bags work for me I'd have to have multiples of everything; toothbrushes, shampoo, etcetera. A bit expensive but it might work. And of course Grex could do my laundry. Why? Because it's Grex. Right now any dirty job I could come up with was too good for him.
The drive seemed to fly by yet drag at the same time. I was getting that a lot lately. I wanted to believe that it was related to my new powers, but knew it wasn't.
"you're too quiet."
"Sorry Karen, nothing really to say."
"No worries. Well we're here, time to split up."
I'd almost forgotten that she had to report in too.
"OK then, your car this time. Not taking mine out into that desert den of thieves and cutthroats."
"Ha! sure. You know where I'm parked. You'll likely get done before me; just be patient ok?"
"Sure."
I wanted to make Grex pack for me; but I knew I couldn't really trust him to. knowing my luck my fatigues would end up the newest goth fashion. So I did the next best thing, as soon as I got my door open.
"Grex, make me some green tea; the correct way, none of the instant."
He bowed and smirked, the bastard.
"Of course mistress."
I took cleansing breaths as I packed. And of course I packed according to my list, so I wouldn't forget anything. then I double checked it; after all, I had time.
"Mistress, tea is ready."
"Put it in the thermos Grex. Any book you'd recommend I take?"
"I recommend you finish the Agrippa. It may help you."
"Yeah how so?" I threw the bag his way and picked up the offending piece of nonsense.
"Because it has good rituals for elemental protection, mainly. A good look at page 379 will show you a way to mitigate the lightning that Karen's lackey is always throwing around."
"Are there really that many demons that use lightning?"
His response was tol hold up a hand of flickering, arcs of blue. I sighed.
"Of course, everybody and their brother uses lightning. How could I be so dense?"
"Well mistress, it's not quite that bad. Far more use fire. but lightning can be very destructive. Most of us of the 9th circle know at least a little of that element."
"OK. Suppose I'll learn. Come on Grex, you get the bag."
I sipped tea while walking down, with Grex deferentially behind. Reaching the parking lot I leaned up against Karen's Hum-vee. And sipped, and waited. And sipped, and waited. What the hell did she have to pack anyway? It was a military base, and her bag was supposedly already in the back! I checked, there were two bags.
So I sipped a bit more, and waited. Grex was playing some sort of cat's cradle with strings of fire, and I watched idly. I probably should put a stop to it... but screw it. It was more entertaining than staring at the parking lot. I kind of expected it to garner more of an audience, but it didn't.
"Ok, ready to go? Oh...huh. Neat trick Grex."
"Thank you Karen. Your sense of timing leaves much to be desired, as usual."
Holy crap. She had two suitcases. Two! What the hell, was she moving in?
"Staying a month or something?"
"Nah, just the two days, or I'd be having you drive your own car. Just got some extra stuff I need to hand the general."
"So one is full of work? Does that mean you need to handcuff it to yourself?"
She unlocked the car and climbed in. I followed, belting up.
"Nah, that kind of thing went out of vogue in the 70's, when people starting just cutting the hands off."
Ouch.
"That would have to suck. Anyone you know?"
"Hah, no. Just read the old records when you get to the base, the Russians weren't always nice, even when they were our
allies."
I caught myself gaping and closed my mouth.
"You mean the Russians did that to us?"
"It happened a few times. I think they are more circumspect now, and a bit less bloodthirsty. Could have to do with their country suffering regular invasions now. That seems to clear up any anti-American shenanigans or cold war type bullshit right off."
I sipped a bit.
"Yeah I can see how having your country get owned by demons would make for a bit of mellowing towards your fellow humans. So how bad is Russia anyway? The newscasts are kind of sketchy."
"Always are anymore; we learned the value of generalities a good 20 years ago."
I assume she meant the army there.
"So?"
"Same as everywhere else really. Slowly losing ground. They haven't suffered a full invasion yet, France is taking most of the brunt there. But still, regular incursions of demons numbering in the hundreds enter the country each year, and we have a large presence there working with local troops in order to keep the territory from going up in flames. At least none of the major cities have fallen yet."
"That's an achievement."
She shook her head as we hit the road out of town.
"Yes and no. The cities don't fall because the russians just throw people at the demons until they go down; that is no way to win a war. That's not even a very good way to buy time. They even train prisoners and send them out; it's said that thievery and assault are death sentences for that very reason. Murderers are just driven to the frontier by truck and marched out with a blade. I've seen it. The demons wait for the soldiers to leave then jump the prisoners. The field is littered with thousands of runed daggers that the soldiers don't dare try to recollect."
OK, that was shudder worthy.
"I almost think I'd rather be posted in France."
"Can't really say which one is worse to be honest; they both have their good points. Russia is only subject to incursion, not demonic occupation. France is... well France is a hell of sorts. At least occupied France is."
Grex decided to add his two cents.
"I've been to france. It wasn't that bad. Now Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia... those places remind one of home."
"Thanks Grex, for that lovely commentary. Now please be silent for a bit unless my life is in danger, OK?"
He nodded, unperturbed. Karen shot me a glance in between watching the road.
"Still pissed huh?"
"Perhaps a bit. So, you were saying?"
"Yeah was just going to get to the countries Grex mentioned. Not a single person has made it to Germany in recent years, though some have tried; so we don't know what's going on there. Poland is pretty much gone; the land is diseased somehow and the people are dead. Czechoslovakia, Bosnia, a few other small countries between the old fronts of the war are then same way, but a little less far along. The rumor is that if the land goes to ruin for another 10 to 20 years, we won't ever be able to recover it - it'll be worse than the sahara or gobi for all intents and purposes."
"So where will I get sent when they decide to ship me out, do you think?"
"I think you know it's France for you. The language of love, hot guys, and fine wines all the way. Just my guess though, pretty sure that you won't get sent anywhere else. Knowing the french, they will ask for you by name as soon as they know you're active."
I tore myself from idle speculation about why the road with no lights along it was so bright to me while Karen was squinting.
"Why would they do that?"
"It's a family thing Snow, your mom and dad are well known there. But I wouldn't worry about it now, you likely won't have to do your tour for a year; the ADTF is already raving about you. It shouldn't take too long to entrench you here, provided you want that to happen."
"I don't really have an opinion; I go where I'm sent."
I caught Karen giving me another one of her sideways glances.
"Then you'll likely be staying here for at least six months. The general has you fast tracked; all the best instructers, latest knowledge, and best equipment. You'll be better than he is, if he has anything to say about it. That or you'll crack."
"I won't crack. I'll simply tell my on staff shrink to get the general to lighten up if it becomes a problem."
"Hah! I'll do my best to keep the heat down to a low simmer. Say... what are you drinking?"
"Green tea. I think Grex spiked it with lime though. Want some?"
"Sure."
An easy companionable silence settled over the car; just miles of hypnotizing road and no speech as we passed the thermos between us. By the time we reached the base it was empty. And of course, I didn't know about Karen, but I had to pee like a racehorse. I managed to make it to the base by telling myself if I went in the desert a snake would bite me. It would be silly
to survive all I had so far and die of snake bite.
Karen of course answered my question as she handed our credentials over to the gaurd.
"Hurry up damn it, I have to pee! Stupid tea."
The gaurd smirked and I could feel Grex's amusement just rolling off him in waves from the backseat. He probably planned it or spiked it somehow, the bastard. The guard made an exaggerated show of checking our photos and comparing them to us.
"Here you are ma'am."
Karen took the cards and shot past the guard; he jumped back just in time. Her reckless driving was impressive in a way; she took chances worse than a high school student in a mustang, yet didn't hit anything or anyone. The haphazard parking job was almost a work of art in and of itself, and right in front of the tower no less.
"Come on, come on!"
Karen was out the door and running.
"What about your bags?"
"I'll grab them later! Come on!"
I rolled my eyes,hiked up my robe, and followed.
"Grex, grab my bags and take them to the room I first summoned you in. I'll join you later."
"Yes mistress."
Karen was obviously a bit out of shape; I caught her easily. After a week of running with the ADTF, I was pretty much used to how this body worked. At least for running and shooting; I was pretty sure my hand to hand sucked. Or sucked again, as it were. After a smirk of my own, I passed her just long enough to enter first. She brushed past me and into the first stall as I
stopped. I won't just sit down on any public toilet.
"You know, that stall could be all gross."
"Don't care, got to pee!"
Odd, they were all clean. Like, very clean. Or maybe not so odd, this is a military post. I'm sure cleaning the bathrooms was a standard punishment for screw ups. I finished just slightly before Karen. She came out as I was washing up.
"Wow, I had more tea than you; what were you doing in there, swimming?"
"Ha Ha, you may have had more tea than I did, but I had more whiskey than you."
"You drank?"
Her eyes got shifty.
"Um... I might have. Not while driving, but I might have snuck a few earlier when you weren't looking. That and when you were driving."
Ugh.
"Whatever, just don't do it on the job OK? And if you're going to let me know, I'll drive."
"But I didn't do it while driving, I know my limits."
"I'm sure you do, but that is the same thing drunk drivers say all the time. I'ts a peeve of mine, I'd rather just drive than
worry about it."
She looked like she was a puppy and I'd just kicked her... really, it was a bit disconcerting. Then she ruined it.
"Alright, alright mom. Will do."
I punched her in the arm, and she led the way out laughing.
"Come on, let's go get checked in so we aren't considered AWOL."
"You think they'll tow your car? I do."
"Nah, they know it's mine, they will leave it where it is for at least an hour. THEN they'll tow it."
I sighed.
"You have kind of a lackluster reputation, don't you?"
"Maybe; but it doesn't matter. Come on!"
She dragged me along back to the middle of the tower, where the administrative section was. There were a dozen clerks, all with large desks - not a single one had a line. Karen walked up to the first one with me in tow, and slapped her card down with a bang. The bored looking man with circles under his eyes looked up briefly.
"Oh it's you, alright, the infamous Kare bear and... who are you?"
"Maeve Numens."
I showed my card.
"Right, Kare bear and miss Numens, reporting for duty. Have fun you guys."
He wrote a note on a sticky pad. I swear....
"Come on, all done. Let's go to the officers' club and see who else is here!"
And again I was dragged away.
"Wait, Karen our cards!"
"Don't worry, don't worry. We can get them later. Let's go see who's here!"
"No need to drag me, I can walk. Sheesh."
"Yes but dragging you ensures you don't walk away. Come on!"
Damn, she knows me well. She didn't let go of my arm until we were actually going inside; I'd never been here before. The place was on the south side, the very right of the tower itself, and had it's own door for those that didn't want to walk through the tower proper.
This was a segregated place; the regular military also had an officers' club on base, but the higher ups wanted to avoid... complications that could be caused if we mingled. And fights. Summoners versus non summoner fights were very rare,but not unheard of. Usually the end results of sucha fight was a death, and training someone to have them die in a barfight was expensive and wasteful.
The place seemed like a typical dingy bar; plenty of smoke in the air, music from the old beaten up jukebox in the corner, and a double line of pool tables. It was nearly packed of course, and that was where all similarities ended. The smoke was redolent of sulfur; speaking to the sudden comings and goings of demons within it's confines. The music was oddly enough, classical; Vivaldi if I wasn't mistaken. And absolutely everyone here was in a robe.
I spotted a few familiar faces among the throng; Justin Bell was playing pool with a woman I didn't recognize. She had a few years on him and I tentatively pegged her as an instructor here... she just didn't look tough enough to be a soldier. At a table near the jukebox and in a position to watch both doors my C.O. Terrence Jones was playing cards. I also recognized
Robert Hood, Sal Lockland, Missy Berret, and Han Chi at the table - they were all from my summoner class and were housed some doors down from myself a week ago.
So they were potentially my squad mates. Terrence being there made it almost a given; he wasn't known for being extroverted. Karen grabbed my hand again and dragged me over. She then drew me up in front of Terrence, who had caught on and was watching us with bemusement. I rolled my eyes and he stifled a laugh. I knew what Karen wanted.
"Maeve Numens reporting for duty, sir."
I snapped as smart and precise a salute as I could. He returned a lazier one.
"At ease Leutinant Snow, please pull up a chair. Now you're all in trouble, our class star is here; try to get perfect scores
now."
I felt my eyebrows lifting at this grandiose anouncement.
"Whatever Leutinant Clay, think I'll just sit over here."
I took a seat opposite him, well away from shenanigan distance, and next to Missy.
"Karen, since you dragged me here, get me a drink? Something cold, wet and beer like?"
"Sure, be right back."
At least on base, the deal was that if you were old enough to summon demons from hell and kill in the name of the United States of America, then you were old enough to drink, period. Hmm, they were playing poker and it looked like Robert was winning. Clay spoke up.
"Since you haven't been formally introduced, I'll go ahead and do it. From the left we have Robert 'Sneaky' hood, Sal 'Grit' Lockland, Missy 'Queenie' Berret, Han 'Hancho' Chi; Everyone, that there is Snow white."
We all said hello to each other in a muted sort of sound cluster that no one really paid attention to.
"So who is sitting out?" I asked.
Clay responded with a grin.
"Hancho there, we cleaned him out earlier. You're welcome to wait and play when one of us bows out, usually we do a poker game or two every friday night."
"I'll just watch for now, you lot scare me."
Clay got the joke, judging by his smirk; the others looked lost.
"Alright Grit, deal... It's your turn, and the night isn't getting any younger."
(tbc)
Five am. 0500 in military speak. Also known in military speak as revielle. We had five minutes from the obnoxious sound of the horn to get dressed and outside on the parade ground.
Of course it took two minutes at a dead run just to make it out of the tower.
I had a bit of a secret weapon. Well two of them really. I was always an early riser, and Grex. A simple order to Grex last night, and he was popping into existence in the bunk beside me with a whispered:
"Time to wake up, my mistress."
Right at 4:45, in plenty of time for me to get dressed quietly and without hurry. So when the horn went off and everyone else was scrambling, I was already halfway down the hall. Grex was once again in his home dimension; it wouldn't do to anger the officers - yet.
I stood at our squads spot on the grounds, and the line formed next to me; straight, disciplined, and right on time. In desert fatigues with full packs... and of course our robes. I was in my best attention stance because of one thing.
The grizzled looking major that was staring directly at me, and that had beaten me here. His head swiveled back and forth and he puffed smoke from a noxious cigar like a chimney. He waited until the squad had fallen in line before he spoke, deceptively soft.
"So how did our squad princess beat a bunch of my week hard trained scrubs?"
Then the yelling started.
"HOW DID OUR PAMPERED PRINCESS HERE BEAT ALL OF YOU OUT HERE?!? AM I RAISING A DAY CARE?!? DID I INTERRUPT NAPPY TIME?!?"
It rapidly went downhill from there.
"PRINCESS COME HERE! THE REST OF YOU DROP AND GIVE ME 50!"
I was at his side before Clay had finished dropping; dad didn't raise a fool. An idle thought... Clay was very fast at dropping to the ground for push ups. Pretty surprising for a large man.
"So...Snow is it?"
I sighed but nodded. He was back to being quiet, something I wanted to encourage.
"How did you beat them out here? I know it wasn't by any alarm clock; I routinely confiscate them all."
Wow, that's pretty sadistic. Hmm, better be very careful here.
"Sir, my summon sir! I left an order with him to wake me before revielle sir!"
He gave me a gimlet stare.
"WELL OUTFUCKINGSTANDING! That's cheating leutinant, I approve! If you have the advantage, use it! One problem there though... you are not to summon your demon here unless your life is in danger or you are ordered by a superior. Was that the case last night?"
"Sir, yes sir, I was ordered by my superior officer to summon my demon last night sir!"
"And will your superior confirm this?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Where is your blade leutinant?"
Oh, crap, my summoning blade, Karen never gave it to me! I completely forgot, and I bet she did too.
"Sir, I summon without it sir."
"Really? Well if we don't just have a God damned prodigy on our hands! Well, there is only one thing left to do then."
He got louder again.
"TIME FOR THAT MORNING RUN SCRUBS! I WANT YOU ALL RUNNING TILL I GET TIRED! NOW NOW NOW, MOVE IT MOVE IT MOVE IT!"
I moved it, falling in right behind everyone else.
Miles and hours later, the sun had rose and hell had truly begun. I was still going; oddly enough everyone else was doing all right too. Well mostly. I guess having an extra 5 days with a major who had the soul of a drill sargeant running you into the ground paid off.
Perhaps he thought the ADTF didn't have one? That they were soft?
But then again, maybe it was due to the desert; running around in this dry heat without the robes' wards active, with what felt like a hundred pounds on your back would tire anyone... I think. I wasn't the first to start fading, but I was among them. And that of course was what the good major was waiting for.
"COME ON PRINCESS, MOVE IT! DID YOU BREAK A NAIL? IS THAT WHY YOU'RE SO SLOW?!?"
After the first tirade I tuned him out and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. The major, whose name I had not gotten but whom I began to think of as major pain, ordered a stop at 15 miles.
"Weaklings, every year seems worst than the last. Well, drink up, rest up, cause it's a long hike back. If you get bitten by a snake don't expect to be carried! You better be able to crawl your ass back to base in time with the rest of us!"
The meaning was clear; check for snakes.
It wasn't 15 minutes later till we were moving again; this time a march at a walk, back to the base. Back through the oppressive heat, without a single snake. I was not alone in dropping once we made it back to the grounds, just before dusk. The major wasn't amused, but let us rest - at least for five minutes.
"Alright, now up my lovely weaklings! Time for hand to hand drills!"
He couldn't be serious.
"THAT MEANS YOU PRINCESS! UP UP UP! FALL IN, YOU'RE FIRST!"
Damn, he WAS serious. I raised myself to my feet carefully, shucking the pack that seemed to weigh more than I did helped. I shuffled into the dimly painted circle I hadn't realized was there before. the major was inside it, and no one else had been called. He smirked. So it was to be him, of course. I took my stance, the one showed me by my father.
Not five seconds later I was eating dirt. I did at least get one good shot in, I was certain. A stiff knuckle blow in between the third and fourth ribs on the left side. I wanted his solar plexus, but had to take what I could get. I stared up at the major, whose face betrayed a small measure of interest.
"So, a little training huh? Take Karate as a child? Get a few months of lessons before you got bored?"
"No sir. I learned from my father. Special forces."
The rise to my feet was a painful one; he had kicked out my left leg just before he nailed me in the jaw. I took stance again, resolving to pay more attention. Not five seconds later I was once again tasting dirt, as well as blood. I'd gotten a good flying knee in at least, looking up I could see his split lip bleeding.
"Krav maga huh? Not bad, but only really good if the opponent doesn't know what's coming. Out of the circle. Clay, GET IN HERE!"
The secret message was of course this: you had to be able to march all day and fight at the end of it, and I, your instructor, can. So respect me, and respect the people who wear the uniform. A message I recieved loud and clear. I hope I could make him understand that I understood, otherwise he might do all this again. Heck I don't even think he needed to in the
first place, I'm not the type to offer false courtesy.
Maybe he didn't know that? Or maybe he didn't care. Or maybe the message wasn't really meant for me. Ugh, I could drive myself crazy thinking about this.
Apparently hand to hand was everyone getting a shot at the major. After he dominated us all (some, like me, two or three times) we all had to fall in and he dismissed us. Clay immediately broke ranks my way.
"Sorry sir, don't know what I did...."
Save it Snow, it's Clay. And that's what I walked over here for; it's not your fault at all, the Major is just an asshole. He has to be, he only has us for three months. He just worked us a bit harder today cause he has you for less, and wanted to take your measure."
"Well he has done that."
"You didn't disappoint; you kept up."
"I wouldn't have if not for my exhaustive ADTF training... as well as all the running I did before the ritual. But just a week and I'm not really suitable for the desert anymore. Just two hours away the heat is far less oppressive."
"I know, I'm jealous. So how is working with the cops?"
"It's different. Did you know there is a definate demon presence in the continent? It's not just demons being summoned by disgruntled jerks. Somehow they are crossing the oceans."
His thoughtful expression made him look mildly constipated.
"Hmm, that is not common knowledge."
"Not exactly a secret either, just not yelled around by the powers that be. Those same powers want me to work on how they are doing it, so we can plug the hole or holes."
"Good, someone has to keep the home front safe."
Just like that. No recrimination, no anger. Just acceptance that I was doing something important here, while he would be sent to the front and most likely die.
Kind of a load off my shoulders, really.
"Come on, you look like you need to sleep a week."
"I probably do. Between here and the police training, I don't get much. Or maybe it just feels that way."
"Probably a little of both."
"We're done for the day though, right?"
He nodded.
"Right. But I know what you're thinking. you're thinking about sleeping early. It's a bad idea; you'll wake up early, then be tired all day tomorrow."
I thought about it.
"Probably. What do you suggest?"
"Cards."
Of course, He wanted my money.
"I don't know, maybe I'll just watch."
"Bah, where is the fun in that?"
"In me keeping my money of course."
"Pfft, we play for quarters, you can't possibly lose that much."
"We shall see."
We limped into the hole of ill repute I'd been led to last night, and to the same table. I plopped myself down in a chair.
"Want something to drink?"
I gave him the hairy eyeball.
"Lots and lots of water, sir."
I knew I should be the one grabbing his drink, but was too tired to care. He wanted to get ours, I wouldn't stop him.
"Well well well, the soft albino can march after all! Good to know."
I opened a bleary eye and took in the near immaculate form of Missy 'queenie' Berret, setting herself demurely into a chair.
"All lies and viscious slander. I'm too tired to defend myself from rabid mice."
"Good thing there are no mice in the tower then."
A voice right behind me, and I didn't care. Sal 'Grit' Lockland appeared over my shoulder and added:
"Sheesh, you've looked better. Weren't you the one that used to run in the desert with the grunts?"
"Don't remind me. No idea what I was thinking."
"I know what you were thinking, it was a good thought."
Yeah, get in shape with the grunts, have an easier time when it came my turn. Too bad Grex ruined my plan there. I had almost no endurance at all anymore. Clay came back, with blessed water in hand. I almost didn't mind when he made a large production out of handing me the glass.
"There you go my lady. Hey Grit, deal us in."
"We're missing one."
"doesn't matter, someone will show and take the hand. Deal it up."
He answered with a snappy, exaggerated salute.
"Yes sir, bossman."
He dealt, showing that he'd done this sort of thing before. He caught me looking.
"Dealt as a pro in vegas for awhile."
I nodded and Clay chimed in.
"Yep, that's some good bottom dealing. So good we can't catch him at it."
"Speak for yourself."
Robert 'Sneaky' Hood stated firmly, pouring himself into the last chair. I gave an inward sigh of relief as I drained my glass;
at least I wouldn't have to play. I had no head for poker.
"Going to get another; anyone want anything?"
I listened to the chorus of no's. If you're going to plan a drink run, and you're lazy, do it as everyone else is showing up. They usually have fresh drinks then and will remember you offered. Makes you 'the nice person'. Then of course they will offer later, as it is their turn.
Sometimes the best evil master plans are small ones.
I weaved my tired way through the dance floor, rightly empty due to the strains of Chopin currently playing. The US summoner forces, such as they were, did not know the minuet or the waltz. The bar tender was a crusty old bald guy going to fat. He waddled up.
"What can I get ya, greenie?"
I didn't object to the term; I was green after all. Oh my, there on the board of drink specials was something I had a weakness for.
"A Cider please, not hard."
"Gotcha, comin' right up!"
He took down an honest to gosh pewter tankard and held it under the bar, handing it to me with a care that belied his demeanor. I put it under my nose and took a whiff. Genuine fresh apple cider. How? Why? I decided details didn't matter and paid the man. Of course when I got back, the smile I could feel leading the way, my seat next to Queenie was taken. And of course it was
taken by Justin. Or stumpy. Not to be deterred, I grabbed another loose chair and sat next to Clay, who stared at my tankard with raw curiousity.
"Ale?"
I shook my head.
"Cider. Just plain, if fresh apple cider."
His interest gave way to boredom fairly fast.
"Wow, living dangerously there Snow."
"I know, I'm going to join a biker gang next, and tour the country."
Justin was whispering words to Queenie; sweet nothings perhaps. she did not seem amused.
"Ha, you'd make a good 'old lady'."
Queenie hissed something justin's way. No one else seemed to notice, so I didn't either.
"Not likely. So who's winning?"
There were a few more quarters in front of Clay than anyone else.
"I won the first hand, just that fast. I think Grit is slipping."
I sneaked a peek. He had 2 pair, aces and tens. Not a terrible hand, I suppose. It was in fact a winning hand. He raked in his quarters while I sipped, beginning to feel a bit better. Not quite as wet noodle-y.
Clay also won the next four hands in a row too, with 4 of a kind, a flush, another pair, and he bluffed successfully with a pizmo straight (a proverbial hand so bad it couldn't make a foot). Grit took notice.
"Damn Clay, you never win this much, and to bluff me? Can I borrow her?"
Huh? He saw my look and clarified.
"I'm saying you're good luck Snow. Come sit by me for a bit, and we can prove it."
Shrugging I made to get up when clay grabbed my arm with a wide grin.
"She stays right here. She knows who holds the power of latrine duty."
I wisely sat back down.
"Sorry Grit, you'll have to suffer through it. Maybe it's just Clay's night?"
He shook his head.
"Maybe, but I don't think so. Fine, Clay your deal."
By the time I finished my first cider, Clay had won several more hands. Any hand he didn't have the cards for, he bluffed with the best of them. Anytime they got annoyed enough to call the bluff, he'd have the cards. It was easily the most conspicuos luck I'd ever seen. Queenie was getting the worst of it, I think good old stumpy was distracting her. Everyone else was also running low or out, and Sneaky was moving as if to stand. That of course was my cue.
"Going again, what can I get everyone?"
It didn't take too long for me to feel like a waitress must. Half these people would be alchoholic before they left the base. Not that most summoners might not be already. Hmm, I'd have to look into that. Drug and alchohol abuse among summoners. I took the tankard back and carted the drinks, luckily enough mainly beers of various makers. I passed them out, and noticed Clay frowning.
"Alright guys, I've been up long enough. Going to go crawl in a corner and die for a few hours now. See you all at 5."
"Hey wait, you can't go yet! I was winning!"
I sighed.
"Clay, surely you don't believe all that luck bunk?"
Grit chimed in oh so helpfully.
"When you were getting drinks he lost. Badly."
"Sounds like the streak is over then. Good night all."
I left, casually avoiding the hurt puppy dog eyes Clay was hitting me with. I was proud, I only weaved like a drunken sailor once on the way back to my room. A glint hanging off the doorknob caught my eye, and I slowed down. Perhaps I was too cautious, but I'd heard all the stories.
It was a knife, hanging off my doorknob from a string of all things. It looked familiar... then I recognized it. I bought it here last week, a top of the line survival knife. Large, sawbacked, with folded damascus steel. I had been afraid to look at the price tag at the time, but had forgotten all about it when it hadn't turned up during my packing efforts. Now runes chased themselves all along its length, ending with the name Grex on the left side... and on the right was another name. My own.
Most unusual for a ritual dagger, in choice and make. I read the note, almost hearing Karen's all too chipper voice spouting the words at high volume.
"Bet you thought we had forgotten, right? Nope, most summoners get them in their first week. We decided you could wait cause you didn't need it. I thought you'd like the idea of one that had more than the standard uses. Enjoy, Karen."
I checked it, all the survival equipment (the matches, fishing line, and other misc crap) was all there. Good deal. Opening the door I kicked it shut, dragging myself to the bed was a real chore but I managed. Then I collapsed.
************************************************************************
Somehow that damned alarm had made itself here.
"Grex! Grex, what the hell!?!"
"It was the easiest way to wake you up. Good morning mistress, you're looking well."
"OK, great, I'm up, send the damn thing home already."
Silence returned, and I grabbed the steaming mug Grex handed me with a distinct lack of grace or enthusiasm. Then I remembered.
"Oh, crap! what time is it?!?"
"4:45AM, as you requested of course. Well, 4:46 now."
"Ugh, I didn't even shower! I'm going to be so late!"
"My suggestion is to shower quickly mistress."
My summon, so very helpful. I suited action to his words though, and in record time (seven minutes) I was washed and dressed.
"Grex, dry my hair."
He got a gleam in hie eye.
"Gently! Gently Grex."
The look died, replaced by a grudging respect.
"Yes mistress."
A dry but gentle heat wafted over me, and when it was done my hair was no longer dripping. With a gentle tug, it further resolved itself into a long braid.
"Thank you Grex, you can.... "
He had my new knife in his hands.
"A beautiful blade, if a little plain. Very servicable. I had almost thought they had forgotten you."
"Go home Grex."
"Yes mistress."
The knife somehow strapped itself onto my belt as he vanished into motes of darkness. Huh, he knows some handy stuff. But I didn't have time to ponder it. I heard the door slam behind me as I raced down the hall, oddly enough, in the middle of a pack this time. We all made a line about the same time, though I still took the far left. The major was waiting, of course.
"Well well well, not first this time, are we princess?"
I chose to think of it as a serious question; the major didn't look like he had a rhetorical bone in his body.
"Sir, no sir!"
"Well alright weaklings, we do something a bit different today. Summon your demons."
Daggers flashed, chants were made, almost drowning out my latin even to my ears.
"Grex, veni huc!"
I blinked and he was in line next to me, wearing desert fatigues and a full military pack. Satan only knows where he got all that. I could feel the major's piggy eyes narrowing in the darkness.
"Well well well, got ourselves a soldier! Kind of makes the rest of you lot look even more weak. Alright you lot, let's go, run time!"
At least the squads bleeding stopped quickly enough, the wounds sealing before they did more than stain. We ran, our demons beside us. The only conclusion I could reach was that this was supposed to tire us out faster somehow. Five miles in and looking around, it seemed to be working.
At least on everyone else.
I knew I was a bit different, even for a summoner. Everyone kept telling me from the time I first summoned Grex how hard it was to maintain a summons in the field for long periods; even the strongest summoners couldn't keep their demons with them all the time. However watching my squad, whom as a group yesterday was outpacing me with relative ease, wilt now like a hand
picked batch of daisies in the desert heat really brought that fact home.
Grex kept pace easily, but all around me were signs of heavy fatigue; sunken eyes, labored breathing, hunched shoulders, terse words. This was definately supposed to be endurance training of a sort. Grex's eyes met mine, an eyebrow raised in the way he knew kind of pissed me off. I shrugged. The run continued.
We continued until, after a bit more than an hour in Hancho dropped. just dropped, right in our dubious trail, and no amount of high volume screaming by our friendly major could get him up.
"ALRIGHT THEN WEAKLING, DISMISS YOUR DEMON! The rest of you take 5!"
Grex walked nonchalantly through the ranks, speaking randomly to whoever would listen.
"I say, good run. Anyone want some water? Water? Anyone?"
He held up his canteen. there were no takers. The major was still trying to get a rather shriveled looking Hancho up, and Grex squatted beside them, handing Hancho the canteen, with a manner suddenly much more serious.
"drink, flesh bag."
I decided I'd better step in.
"What's in the canteen Grex?"
"Water, my mistress."
"May I have some?"
He handed the refreshment over without any hesitation, eyes guileless.
"Of course my mistress."
I drank, the cold liquid cascading down my throat like a blessed tide. Much to my chagrin I was unable to stifle the noise of contentment made. I handed the canteen to Hancho.
"It'll help, it's just water. He isn't able to lie to me, and he can't allow me to come to harm, so it's safe. Suspiciously cold and tasty, but safe."
As Hancho was drank, bewilderment on his face, I turned back to Grex.
"Your good deed of the day?"
He scoffed.
"Hardly, do you have any idea what this sun is doing to you? I simply don't desire to cart you back to your quaint quarters after you suffer heatstroke. Or anyone else for that matter; humans are so fragile."
Hah. He knew me too well.
A few minutes later, Hancho looked well enough to run again. dismissing his demon had obviously helped. The good major screamed some more, and we all turned around and started back. I was getting worryingly used to tuning out the good major already.
The others still looked like something a wild dog had found and chewed on.
Our run cut short, the sun wasn't even at it's zenith before we got back. The gate gaurds gave us sympathetic looks after the major passed. Stumpy (heh heh heh) dropped as soon as we hit the practice yard, leaving his succubus summon standing over him with her disgust plainly evident.
"Leautinant Bell, dismiss your demon!"
He complied with some choice words that niether I nor the major could truly hear, then struggled up.
"No Leautinant Bell, you and Hancho sit over there. Right at the edge there. The rest of you, hand to hand time! Princess and the queen right here, boxer and the cowboy here...."
I tuned him out again, moving where indicated to face Queenie. Grex looked on with interest, Queenie's demon (a runty looking Baal Rog) seemed not to care; instead he only had eyes for Grex. Interesting. Queenie was a bit smaller than I was, with mud hair framing a face that might be classified as 'handsome' but I'd hesitate to call beautiful, and a rather compact body with plain curves. the only reason she stood out in a crowd was her regal, haughty air.
"So, got much experience at this?"
She looked the brawler type.
"A little; you?"
"Just my dad's training. Let's try not to maim each other?"
"Sure - other than that no promises though.
That grin of hers did not bode well for me.
(tbc)
That damned alarm again; this time I took no chances, zapping it with a lightning bolt. It left a scorch mark on my nightstand, but that was a small price to pay. Yesterday after hours of hand to hand instruction and spars with our demons still out, we worked on power theory; that is, the little powers our demonic contracts granted us. some were small but useful boons like Sneaky's ability to sense movement, which made hiding from him difficult.
Some were closer to me; mystical powerhouses usually with a theme. But we all had one thing in common. The major worked us all till we dropped from complete exhaustion, one by one. Being the last to fall hadn't seemed to help his disposition towards me any. And then of course, I had to work the next day. So I would normally have to drive home after all this. Karen got me somewhat mobile and drove me home.
I'd never bad mouth her driving practices again. Well... much.
Grex had of course, hovered. the major wanted me to dismiss him. I had to tell the good major that simple physical exhaustion was the culprit of my collapse, not the spiritual maliase the others suffered from. That with a little rest from his grueling regimen I'd be fine. Karen forced me to. Then she bailed herself out of the hole by explaining I needed to leave in order to make sure I'd be on time for my duties tomorrow.
The major made her promise that next week he'd have till 6pm to work with me on sunday, since I didn't drop for the same reasons the others did. All in all I think I got screwed pretty badly in that exchange. Not that I ever really expected to win. At least I got some good shots on my fellow squadmates yesterday, to try and even out the beating they gave me.
The insidious smell of fresh coffee tickled my nostrils; was that chocolate mocha? No, I must resist the evils of wakefullness! I shall sleep the week, that will show them! The entire week in my comfy bed!
"Mistress, not that I mind sharing your bed, but shouldn't you be getting ready for work?"
And just like that I was across the room, the entire moment ruined. Grex was in fact, laying down on top of the blankets on the other side of the bed. He likely had been the entire night. My memory when half asleep is something I really need to work on.
"Fine, go make breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, and the sausage I bought last week, with no ingrediants I might classify as strange."
I watched him work his way through that, searching for a loophole. I could feel the wheels turning in his head.
"Of course my mistress. You're getting better."
"I've always learned quickly."
Since staying in bed was out, I took my time in the shower, letting the hot water ease sore and battered muscles. Soon enough even that comfort was cut short with a polite knock on the door.
"Mistress, Karen has arrived."
"Then make her some too, if she hasn't eaten. Get my coffee ready, I'll be right out."
Probably twenty minutes later I'd suited action to words; I had more desert to wash off than I'd thought. I'd likely have to replace the sheets.
"It's cold now."
"It's fine Grex, I don't mind it cold."
He sat next to the fridge, a coffee cup in hand. He hadn't asked, but I didn't care much. Karen sat beside him, an empty plate in front of her, nursing her own coffee. She was also staring at my plate with puppy dog eyes. I sat down and started in, cautiously at first.
"Wow, not bad. Tolerable even."
"Thank you."
"So Grex, where did you learn to cook like this?"
"The internet of course, your mother never let me prepare food for her. I must say the network is a wonderful creation; all the knowledge of the monkeys at one's fingertips."
I nodded.
"Well my mother never had the safegaurds over your conduct that I do."
"True. Still next time, you should let me use the more esoteric ingrediants found in those recipes. I'm afraid the pancakes could be considered bland."
I nodded again, conceding the point.
"Make a list of ingrediants you'd like to use and we will see. I'm just trying to stop you from using yak liver or powdered human hearts or whatever."
He bowed.
"Of course my mistress, I will obey. To be truthful this morning I would have used oregano and pecans."
"That sounds... odd."
Karen pointed to her watch.
"Right, got to go. You're dismissed Grex."
"I exist to obey."
He vanished in a heat haze shimmer. Of course there was no heat.
Karen led the way out.
"Come on, let's go! We'll be late!"
"Like you care."
She stopped.
"True, but I know you do, so come on!"
I hurried after her.
"Shows what you know, I was all ready to sleep the week a few hours ago."
"Good thing you left orders for Grex to get you up on time then."
"Meh. At least the cops wouldn't declare me AWOL. They might send a team to pick me up, but they wouldn't shoot first and ask questions about why I was sleeping later."
"True enough. Then again they might break in and take embarassing photographs, like last time."
"Wait, last time? What last time?"
"Never you mind, before your time. just get in the car."
Hmm, a possibility of embarassing photos of Karen? Count me in.
"Got yourself a book?"
My hands were of course, empty.
"Of course I don't; why?"
"Well after the first week with the ADTF, it's a week of learning by doing; you're on call today. Which could mean a lot of sitting behind your desk reading; here we don't get many calls. The idea is to learn in true apprentice fashion from your seniors on the force; the reality is more boring. But from here on out the war games are a scheduled thing, usually the end of the month."
I sat back, words could not convey the depth of my relief, but I blurted some anyway.
"Oh thank God."
Karen smirked at me.
"Don't worry, if you want I can always ask the Captain to do more; he gets bored easily and is always looking for an excuse to play."
"Don't you dare! I'll get all I can handle next weekend."
"Well that's true, you do have one of the toughest majors we have training you."
"I understood the point of the training, all endurance and knowing your limits, but sheesh it hurt. I'm used to hurting, but no lie and I'm not ashamed in the least to say it, that was the worst I have ever had it. Having to run forever then having someone kick your butt at the end of it is pretty diabolical."
She gave me a pointed look, something unreadable hidden in her eyes.
"Silly suburbanite; it can always get worse."
I spluttered; she actually thought I was soft or something! Maybe her own childhood was worse than mine, but offhand I doubted it. Sure my family took good care of me, in it's own distant crazy way, but I was hardly coddled. But rather than make matters worse I quieted; the rest of the ride was spent in silence. We got out with plenty of time, and seperated.
"Thanks for the ride."
Karen did not reply. Well fine, she can be insulted. People everywhere have it rough, and have had it rough since forever. I snagged some coffee and a donut (no one told me I couldn't) from the desk sargeant's desk and rode the elevator up. I ceased muttering uncomplementary things when I noticed I wasn't alone. Conners was in a corner, eyeing me askance. She noticed my attention. She smirked.
"Rough weekend?"
"Yeah, sorry, I'm not crazy. Well, crazier."
"Good to know, but you're a Numens, your family doesn't break. Well, much."
Skepticism was the watch word here.
"Oh? Is my family famous or something?"
I registered total disbelief in her.
"You mean you don't know?"
"Know what?"
She gave a little chuckle.
"You should ask your family, it's amazing they haven't told you. I don't know the details, but apparently the Numens family is one of the major summoner families recognized by the U.S. Almost a form of royalty, or as close as we get. Friends in high places, that's your family. Might be why you're here, instead of at the base preparing to get shipped out."
"Well, I won't deny that. The General told me himself he feels... responsible for a part of my condition."
"Oh? Which part, the summoner part? Cause I'm pretty sure even he can't pull those types of strings."
I felt my face heat.
"No no no, I'm not implying that he would break the law! Just, the demon I got stuck with. It's a family one, apparently. The same one my mom summoned."
Yeah, that sounded believable.
"Not trustworthy?"
Oops. Hmm, how to answer this one.
"No less so than any other, just very powerful, and very pricey."
The light dawned across her face. Most summoners were... hesitant on talking about their price to non-summoners. Hesitant to the point of cutting out their own tongues before doing so. My own situation was a pretty good example of why. Such things were need to know, among the corps itself. Sure, some people in the ADTF undoubtedly knew, but I wasn't in a hurry to blab to anyone who didn't.
"Look it's fine, you didn't offend me or anything; it's just a touchy subject."
"Sure, my bad. So, did you bring a book?"
"No, but I can borrow one if I need to, I think."
"Better hope so, books are at a premium up here some days."
I decided to strike first.
"So what kind of books do you read?"
She shook her head with a grin.
"The kind you don't. Sorry, don't have a spare today."
Drat. She ran off with a little wave as I destroyed my donut in an orgy of powder and crumbs. It's ok, I wouldn't get bored. I'm sure there was much I could do. The coffee was terrible, but I drained it in between the elevator and my new desk. With any luck the coffee on this floor wouldn't suck. The captain waved me over as he saw me, and I altered course.
"Before you do anything else, 3 laps around the block."
Sigh. I started back down.
"And keep the robe on!"
I waved to show I heard. Oh well, at least it's not full blown war games. I breezed airily through the station, not deigning to notice the stares or in some isolated cases, the muted laughter. Call me captain oblivious. I took my time with the run, enjoying
the air; This day was numbered as one of the last of the pure fall days. leaves drifting gently down on stray currents, seeming to be ablaze in the sun, a smell of slumbering greenery in the air. People crossing the sidewalk to avoid me in droves.
It didn't take as long as I thought it would. The most trouble I had was fighting the urge to pull out a scythe somehow, so I could act the part of death running down the street. Somehow I did not think that'd look good in my file. Perhaps summoning had done something to my mind after all? Or perhaps I shouldn't say such things, to myself most of all. Questioning every decision could only lead to tragedy... or public nudity. Something like that.
Of course by the time I got back I didn't care about anything but breathing the sweet air; I wasn't tired exactly, but even for a runner a mile caused one to blow for a bit. I walked back into the gloom ridden building, acting the part of the unconcerned badass. I'm probably not fooling anyone though.
I strode up the stairs and to my desk, noticing that for the first time, another summoner was a desk away, sharing my shift. Or was I sharing theirs? This one had their hood up, even here. Of course that could only mean one thing.
"Morning."
A male voice answered me, as I expected.
"Good morning."
Then he turned to a book. What looked to be one of those cookie cutter murder mystery books. Wow, one would think he'd gotten his fill of such things. I turned to my own book, 'Police procedures, a field manual.' I'd barely read past the first page - proper handcuffing procedure - when I was interrupted.
"Yo, rookie. The boss wants to see you."
I looked up and into Karen's smiling face. Apparently she didn't hold a grudge. she turned to the guy next to me.
"Clarence, can you handle all this traffic by yourself for a bit?"
The newly dubbed Clarence made a show of looking left, then right, through the squad room at the bored looking cops and silent phones.
"I think I'll manage."
"Alright, come on Snow. Time to go see the boss."
The boss, it turned out, was in the building. Sitting in a plush chair next to the chief of police. No pressure, right? He was middle aged and balding, not very well built (an oddity among summoners) and had watery blue eyes. As in, constantly tearing up... Maybe a price thing?
"So you're the new blood."
"Good morning Sir."
"Sit down, sit down."
I sat.
"So how are you adjusting?"
I waited a heatbeat, but nothing more was added. Right to the point, this guy was.
"I think I'm adjusting well sir; it's hard to say with so few examples of stable summoners and police around me."
He blinked, water dripping on his ledger, then laughed a bit shrilly. the poor chief looked like he was eating lemons when I wasn't looking.
"Ha that's true enough. How do you define normal, and all that."
Well he wasn't making a good case for us, that was for sure. he put some glasses on, which made him look as if he was looking at me from the other side of an aquarium. Then he stared at me, saying nothing. For several minutes. It was hard to tell, but I was certain there was more to his look then casual insanity.
"Well I'm glad we had this talk. You may go back to your duties now, Karen will see you out."
...OK. whatever just happened I was sure I missed most of it. Of course they already knew all about me from reading my file; what you see is what you get with me. But the entire point of that visit was for him to stare at me with those glasses on. My hand on her arm stopped Karen from going back inside.
"Karen, does he stare at all new summoners with those glasses?"
She nodded, not looking at all surprised.
"Yes, they help him see things about people. Most interviews go just like that one, except about half don't pick up on the real reason he does them. Those people just think he's crazy. I got to go back inside, they are expecting me."
But no one who reaches that rank is just mindlessly crazy. I was beginning to catch on; or at least I hoped I was. My desk was right where I left it, but that summoner I didn't know was gone. I took a better look around and noticed half the team I trained with was missing. Judge was in earshot though, and doing nothing.
"What's up Judge, where is everybody?"
He looked up from his book, a western, and smirked.
"What's the matter Snow? Miss us all when we're gone?"
hmm, loaded question that. Best to sit the fence.
"Maybe, but truth told I was wondering what happened to the summoner that was sitting here; I wanted to talk to him. To soak up his wisdom so to speak."
"Ahh, you mean Turner. well they went out to patrol. See normally one team patrols around while the other sits around trying to look busy. That way if we get a call, a team is already mobilized to take it."
I knew that. I did!
"Ahh, so you mean they drive around trying to look busy instead of sitting here trying to look busy."
That coaxed a laugh from him. It was a course, gritty, but infectious sound.
"Yeah pretty much."
"So we do...." I invited him to finish for me; he wasted no time.
"Whatever we can do to keep occupied until we're called to back up SWAT or stop a demon."
"Got it; back to police procedures then."
He rolled his eyes.
"Good luck with that; that book is a text that redefined 'dry reading'."
It didn't take long. By the time I got to the many different kinds of robbery (and numbers for each) I was ready to scream, throw the book, and break something. Seriously, just call it robbery or armed robbery! The procedures are the same for whether you see a weapon or not! You draw your own gun to be safe and clear the house/area! Good grief!
Double good grief, the book has me Charlie Browning in my head! I threw it. It sailed quite well over the assorted desks and cubicles to the other side of the squad room where it rebounded off the wall.
"Told ya."
"Yes you did, thank you Judge."
Ugh, I still needed to get through it, but maybe in small doses. I decided I needed to move a little... while avoiding the captain of course. Moving didn't mean I wanted to run or do push ups for an hour. Then I spotted Cords. He was heading back into the communications room with a vending machine iced coffee. Then he pulled the privacy blinds closed. Then the lights went out. Hmmm....
I walked over and carefully tried the knob; it turned fully and with ease, to my relief without a single sound. Cords had his back to me, watching something on one of three computer screens. The first screen had some statistics open, the second appeared to have a monitoring program plugged into 911 or something, and the third had... cars? What the hell?
I smelled blood.
Reaching out carefully and watching him, I snagged his iced coffee; it was unopened. The screen where three british guys were racing cars against planes somehow held his full attention. Waiting for just the right moment, I popped the top of the can and took a drink.
He went from 0 to full blind stumbling panic, then back down to 'omg I wasn't caught, I'm still employed.' in about 2.5 seconds. The iced coffee was pretty good.
"So, does the captain know you do this?"
He nodded; as calm as he was now, it seemed the truth.
"Um, was that my iced coffee?"
"Why yes, it was your iced coffee."
I took another drink as he winced. Then he reached out and paused whatever he was watching, and walked out of the room without so much as a look back. While he was gone, of course I stole his comfy looking computer chair. He came back with another iced coffee and pulled another less comfortable looking chair up, then hit the play button.
"So what is this?"
"Top Gear."
"What's Top Gear?"
"You've never seen Top Gear?"
He seemed appalled, as if he'd just found out I murdered puppies in my spare time.
"Top Gear is a british show, where three british morons do stupid things with and to cars."
I watched. They currently had three cars being chased by planes around a track in a laser tag battle. Which of course they were losing. It really was funny, because they either believed, or were acting like they believed, they could win somehow. After that episode, Cords played another where the three were in africa, in 'estate cars' which were apparently station wagons, trying to find the source of the river Nile. I couldn't help myself... when I got to the point where they were stealing car parts off each other (hoods, doors, back windows) I laughed, loudly.
Oops.
Cords was grinning openly at me now. I drained the rest of the coffee to cover my lapse in doom and gloom etiquette.
"You have a really great laugh; like bells ringing."
Talk about awkward.
"Um, thanks. So, they've never come across a demon yet?"
He shook his head in answer as May reached their dubiously dubbed "source of the Nile" first.
"They have, but they are british; stiff upper lip and all that bullcrap. It doesn't hurt that they have their own in house summoners, and the british government won't let them go anywhere really dangerous, like most of France."
"Well that's something at least."
"There was talk a year or two back of them making an expedition into Germany to find the elusive Volkswagon that the they used to make, but nothing ever came of the talk. Instead they substituted one that was found in Poland. The Germans used to make some great cars; they did everything but strap dynamite to that Volkswagon and it survived. Oh hey it's lunch time; you want anything?"
I considered for a second. Time had really flown. I felt kind of guilty, but no calls for us had come in.
"A toasted sub and another coffee?"
He smiled; it was a warm thing.
"Sure, I'll be right back."
I rose and stretched. Comfortable or not, staying hours in a chair was a bad idea. Judge was still outside, but he was no longer alone; Conners and the Captain were there talking over a shared pizza.
"Captain, Conners, hello."
"Ahh, Snow. Good afternoon - Judge told me you joined Cords in geek central. How goes the police band?"
"Quiet sir. Very quiet."
I gently pulled him aside to whisper into his cauliflower ear.
"Do you know what Cords does in there sir? I mean, is it alright?"
He responded in a normal tone of voice.
"You mean do I know that he watches internet streams and dvds of television shows? Sure I do; as long as he's using that program of his to monitor emergency services whatever else he does is fine. We aren't like normal cops Snow. Sure we can do the normal cop things if we want, but we don't need to and the chief hates it when we try. The only reason we all aren't in there now watching along with him is his choice of show sucks. If you can stand it, more power to you... just don't forget to watch those other screens, and since Cords is getting lunch someone should be in there. Go. Shoo."
He actually shoo'd me. So I went back in. This seemed so messed up; I couldn't help but feel that getting paid to watch television was very wrong. Soon enough Cords came back with two subs in bags, some apple chips and two more coffees. I suffered yet another attack of conscience.
"Hey, welcome back. I have a minor confession to make."
Cords adopted a thinking pose briefly, his hand holding up his chin.
"You told the captain what we were doing."
"Yeah, I wasn't trying to get anyone in trouble, but it just seemed so weird to get paid for doing nothing. Kind of like a dereliction of duty. "
"And what did he say?"
"He told me to get back inside here and watch the screens."
He barked a surprising laugh.
"Of course, I was gone."
He glanced over.
"Well you lucked out; no calls. Otherwise the captain would be chewing you out, cause you left the place unmanned."
He handed me my sandwich; a black forest ham and swiss with a few extras, toasted of course.
"Most days that's what this job is; nothing. They don't dare send us on normal police work and risk needing us for a demon. So we're always on call. One team is always just sitting around... until it isn't and you wish you were. You'll see what I mean eventually. We earn the right to be lazy most of our professional lives around here. so just sit back..."
He tipped my chair back.
" ... and watch the show."
He clicked the play button and leaned back with a smirk, ignoring my best raised eyebrow trick.
And that's how the day went. shortly before 4 the other squad came back, and May joined us in watching "Top Gear" for the final hour. Karen was in a much more cheerful mood now, or so it seemed, so I spent the drive regaling her with tales of British car idiots. Once she was safely parked however, she hurried off with a muttered:
"Got to go, meeting an old friend in the coffee shop!"
I got the distinct feeling I was not invited. Upstairs I couldn't stop the sigh of relief; all day and only a bit of light PT. I felt downright sinful about it.
"Grex, veni huc!"
He materialized on my couch in a bathrobe and with an unlit pipe in his mouth.
"Ahh Mistress, an uneventful day I take it?"
"Pretty much, I thought we could do some training since I'm not dead tired."
"But you remain drop dead gorgeous; would you like me to make you dinner? I was considering roast beef and baked potatoes, with perhaps some steamed asparagus? All made according to your tastes, not mine of course."
"Sure; just remember our talk about ingredients."
"Only standard ingredients and spices considered edible by the majority of the North American palette, I promise on our contract. No powdered frog testicles or long pig."
Powdered frog testicles? What the crap? He got busy as I threw off my robe with a sigh. Soon enough there were pans rattling and smells of a rather heavenly bent - or not. I surfed through the channels for BBC America and found it; and lo and behold "Top Gear" was on.
"So what did my mistress do today?"
"She sat on her butt and watched this. Today was a lazy day."
He glanced towards the television as he brought my coffee.
"And what is this?"
"This is "Top Gear", a show made by british loons who do weird things to cars. It's pretty funny."
"You weren't doing police things?"
"Well I read a little of that stupid procedure book before it tried it's best to put me to sleep. But evidently most of my days will be boring, not that I mind. Even on days when the ADTF supports SWAT I likely won't be deployed. So I'll likely just spend my days pining away with Cords, watching TV shows."
" ...Cords? That mewling pipsqueek that smells of dust and oil?"
Holy crap. Holy crap, holy crap!
"Grex are you jealous?"
If he wasn't, he was all but glowing with some other dark emotion; his face was calm however.
"You should be careful mistress; he is unworthy of you. Do not hesitate to call for me should I be needed."
" ...Right. I don't think it'll be a problem. But burning my dinner might be a problem."
And just like that he was off like a shot, to the kitchen so fast he blurred. Still, Grex jealous of Cords? Just for hanging out with me?
(tbc)
I sighed, stretching in bed. The game of zap the alarm (only to have it put itself back together in what I was sure was Grex's doing) was on hold today; the alarm itself silent. I was allowed a blissful day of sleeping in. No work, no training, just a peaceful Monday off. My first in about six months.
I intended to sit at home in sweat pants, eating things that were bad for me and watching television till I puked. I was through only a few of my books though, and since they were required reading it annoyed me, like an itch I couldn't reach. But no, I'd decided last night, none of that. It's celebration time today.
And I will most definitely not think about the events of the weekend. Apparently I could be more than a little bitchy when bleeding from my crotch. The feeling as if I would burst, and the general ache didn't help matters. And Karen... holy crap I wanted to kill her. She was far too chipper to deal with.
There was a vase in the center of my kitchen table with a black rose resting inside it; it had a rather cloying flowery scent mixed with earth that I could smell immediately upon entering. The coffee was made the way I like it, and there were waffles smothered in butter beside them. Rather large ones, that filled two plates.
So obviously Grex had done this, but how? I distinctly remember sending him back at the end of festivities yesterday.
"Grex, veni huc!"
a sudden but tender hug from behind, a hot breath in my ear, and whispered words. I was used to it by now, sad what one could get used to. And how fast one could get used to it.
"You rang, my mistress?"
"Explain this now Grex." my wave encompassed the kitchen.
"Well the kitchen is made of...."
"You know what I mean! You were sent back home, what are you doing making breakfast?!?"
"I think you're harboring a misconception my mistress. I did not make your breakfast. Though it looks positively delicious. You should not let it go to waste."
I wasn't buying it.
"Alright, if you didn't, who did?"
"I've no idea, do you wish me to find out?"
"Yes, but first, check it for poisons or toxins of any kind and inform me if there are such."
I wasn't going to let it go to waste if I could avoid it, after all, it's my lazy day. Cooking breakfast was for non lazy people. I watched and waited as he took small samples of the food and drink.
"All clear master, not even a hint of the more esoteric things that only affect... other physiologies. It is as I feared; quite tasty."
I snorted.
"Worried your position in the kitchen will be usurped?"
He responded quite seriously, the smile pleasant expression sliding from his face and showing the real concern beneath.
"Yes. It could be part of a plot to drive a wedge between us and poison you later, when I might not be in position to save you."
"You worry too much. No one is going to be able to poison me through all the security here, unless it's one of yours."
He did not respond, only looked at me. Alright, so maybe it was possible that some demons wanted me dead, but why? They shouldn't even know I exist.
"Come on, most demons don't know I exist, and those that do have no real reason to wish me harm."
"You're a uniquely powerful summoner, like your mother. Reason enough for most."
I sipped my coffee and sat down before the bountiful repast.
"Kind of sad that your kind need so little reason to kill. But for now, you say it's safe, so I'm eating."
"Kind of sad my mistress? When I see peace in the middle east I'll concede my kind is more quick to kill than yours. Until then, we learn from the masters."
I'd be righteously indignant if he wasn't so right. Even with demons eating both factions, the muslim extremists and everyone else were killing, raping, and cooking each other like Christmas hams just like they always did. I don't even think they noticed the demons in their midst. I took a forkful of waffle.
"Well we aren't all like that."
"Not at all,' he replied seriously, 'some of humanity is worse."
Hold the phone; worse than the chuckleheads in the Mideast?
"Who the hell could be worse than the middle easterners? No wait, never mind, I don't want to know."
Some things I just should not know, otherwise I might end up as jaded as Grex was.
He nodded, a sage look that a cult guru would envy on his face.
"Finally, you show wisdom, my mistress. Or perhaps you show the tendency of humanity to ignore the problems they cause each other."
"Give me a break; like I can change the hearts and minds of morons, dealing with your kind is easier in that respect."
Maybe he meant Africa? It was full of dictators and terrorists too.
"Yes, no one human can make a difference in how humans with 'beliefs' behave, I've heard as much before."
He still had that look... was he mocking me? The stormy stir of cold rage began to turn in my chest. I paused, another forkful of waffle left temporarily homeless.
"Those problems are too much for any one person to fix; even summoners have been trying to fix those problems, using magic. They have so far resisted all attempts; any people who are sure about what life is or should be, are always that much harder to convince when they go off the rails. Are you mocking me, Grex?"
He turned from his coffee a moment, and looked at me - really looked, with a piercing gaze I could feel run through me like an electric current. What he saw seemed to surprise him.
"Not at all, my mistress. Just the human condition. If you like, we can try to solve them ourselves."
I narrowed my eyes at the now familiar Cheshire grin, but allowed him to steer the conversation.
"I doubt I'd have any more success than any of the previous attempts; perhaps after I re-trap or kill all the demons on earth, and end the war."
If anything, his grin grew wider. At least he just focused on his own breakfast, though you'd think the grin would interfere in drinking things. Smug bastard. I finished, put the dishes in the sink, and went back into the bedroom to change. But on second thought, I was already in comfy silk jammies, so why bother? Television time. It was still early morning, so it was either sitcoms, soaps, or animal planet.
Animal planet wins.
Grex settling down next to me was a non factor, he took one look and was quiet. I had almost managed to drift off again when I heard a knock at my door.
"Grex, go get that."
His look of 'what do I look like, a door man?' won no points with me.
Of course it was Karen, who had managed to clean herself up and was staring down at me with sharp disapproval. She was in a skirt. God help us all, she was in a magenta top and a gray knee length skirt. She was wearing makeup just a mere shade over tasteful. She looked as if she had a date. I looked around; the apocalypse was coming early, and I wanted to be ready for it.
"Come on, it's your first official day as a real live summoner! We should do something!"
She was not at all phased by the finger I threw her.
"Technically yesterday was my first official day; today is a day off. A rare and much loved day off in which to veg. I'm planted here."
She grabbed the hand I saluted her with and started trying to pull me up, Grex just watched, the traitor.
"Oh come on, almost every day off you've ever had you've spent here! You're turning lazy in your old age."
"Yes, I spent my days off here, reading. Reading extremely boring, dry books all about my job."
"All the more reason for you to get out. Come on, we're going somewhere."
I wavered a bit. Perhaps I was getting a bit lazy. It was kind of sort of almost spring, after all.
"Where are we going?"
She did not gloat over my tacit surrender, instead shoving me into my bedroom.
"I don't know yet. Now get dressed!"
So, typical Karen, no plan at all. Well if she had no plan, I had no zeal. I wouldn't go for sweats exactly, but the black track suit with silver stripes I had might as well have been. I pulled the tags off (brand new, it had sat in my closet for 6 months, back to that first fateful mall trip when I thought perhaps I might need to continue my running on my own time, oh how silly I was.) and threw it on, jacket and all. For all that it was supposed to be spring, it was still cold out there more often than not, at least in the mornings. Karen had not had her robe on, so I left mine off. she looked dressed to score, and I wasn't about to play the social killjoy to her butterfly.
The fact that she rolled her eyes when I came out and swallowed a few choice words might have had something to do with it too. Grex's sigh was kind of a surprise though. I quirked an eyebrow at him; he hadn't minded the pajamas, so what was his problem now? Questions were interrupted by hurricane Karen though.
"alright, you're ready, that all you want? Then let's go!"
She grabbed my hand and dragged me out my door with surprising strength; if my purse hadn't been near the door (where I always hang it up to keep it out of the way and so I don't forget where it is) I'd have had to leave it behind. Grex followed, again quietly. I began to suspect something more was up. Perhaps I was as had earlier been accused, naturally suspicious.
I preferred to think of it as being careful.
Down the hall, down the elevator (where the muzak had at some point been replaced by death metal; I don't think anyone noticed when that happened, I certainly didn't. I couldn't even identify the band, but they sure had... passion. Out of the elevator, and into the coffee shop at the other end of the lobby, where Karen ordered three caramel machiatos. Assuming she wasn't going to drink all those herself, I didn't order.
I was correct, she handed one to me, then one to Grex. Then we were led to the corner booth (I swear the place was made with 6 corners, on purpose, so that more summoners could feel more comfortable. A pretty canny piece of marketing by the owner; I had to applaud.
"So... I'm driving, of course. You have anywhere you want to go?"
"Can't really think of anywhere, unless the grocery store; getting kind of low on certain things again, since someone keeps eating breakfast with me."
She whistled tunelessly a couple seconds, as if to protest her innocence.
"Boring. I veto that proposal outright; guess we'll just have to find something to do, or some trouble to get into."
"Bah, we get enough trouble as it is; can't we avoid it for the day?"
Karen stood in a rush, knocking her chair over with a clatter. Oh hell, here it comes.
"Absolutely not! We are going to go out, find some trouble, join in, get drunk, and get laid! Maybe not all in that order."
I was already shaking my head mid rant. Now I wished I had my cloak, I'd put the hood up to hide my burning face.
"Not drinking, and absolutely not to... that other thing."
She reached over, draping herself over me while Grex righted the fallen chair with a wry grin. That traitor!
"Aww come on, all work and no play makes Jane a dull girl. Not even interested to find out how it all works? Or maybe it's all about the right guy, miss I-hang-out-with-cords-everyday-while-I-should-be-working."
I threw her off, back into her own now properly upright chair.
"Sit down and drink your coffee. You have no idea what you're talking about. It's just less boring watching streams than reading at my desk."
She took a sip, shooting me a sly look over the rim of the cup.
"Sure, Sure."
"It's true! We haven't even had a call in months! The only two calls taken since I started, were taken by that other guy."
That one summoner who kept his hood up had been polite but distant since that first day, and had avoided me whenever possible, was even spookier than Karen on a sugar high. Of course, he just acted different; Charlie was much much more scary in practice... I think; I hadn't ever seen Jub (his nick name, though I never called him that) in action. His voice seemed to echo from somewhere else though, and I wasn't too sure I wanted to find out where. Karen leered; actually leered at me, never a good sign.
"Oh don't worry Snow, we'll pop that cherry soon enough."
Ugh, I knew it, now we were at bad double entrendres.
"I should slap you for that on principle alone."
She finally sat back, looking contrite.
"OK fair enough. But you really should just go ahead and live a little. It's been six months, and you haven't done anything at all for yourself."
I knew what she meant. My transfer to the front was on hold, but not on hold forever. I had six more months to live, and then I'd be shipped into hell on earth. Powerful or not, it wasn't likely I'd come back - so I'd better start living now, while I had the chance. That was the first time she'd been so clear on it; she must be feeling some sort of pressure I didn't or something.
Sigh. I knew I'd be regretting this.
"Alright, alright. We can drive around and look for something fun to do; if we don't find anything, we are not ending up at some bar filled with scruffy old men and unwashed bikers."
"Deal.' She drained her cup in a hurry and stood again, latching onto my arm. 'Come on, let's go now!"
"Karen, darn it, I haven't even had a sip yet!"
She laughed, dragging me; how could someone smaller than me be so strong?
"You're too slow Snow, come on! Time's a wastin.'"
I was somewhat consoled by Grex following silently, one coffee per hand. I did so love my coffee, the cure to all ills mental or otherwise. Once at Karen's Hum-v she all but threw me inside and ran around at full tilt to the driver's side door, careening off the fender along the way in a rather painful looking manner without so much as a wince. I belted in with another long suffering sigh as Grex got in... by simply materializing himself in the back seat in a sitting position. I'd long since gotten used to his antics too.
Soon enough my coffee was passed back to me, and Karen was breaking the parking lot's speeding laws. Then the street speeding laws. Then the ones regarding coming to a complete stop. I could take no more.
"Karen, calm down, you're going to get us in an accident."
Meaning she'd mow over some poor Prius with this tank, and kill everyone inside. Thankfully she took my meaning without taking offense, and slowed down. If anything though, her grin ate up more of her face. I was starting to suspect someone had slipped her something last night or this morning.
We were driving for an hour, with Karen getting more frustrated as she failed to find something interesting to go to. In a fit of frustrated inspiration she decided to hit the highway. Soon enough she started grinning again, a twinkle in her eye that I didn't like.
"OK, what?"
"Nothing, just found something. You didn't see the sign?"
I didn't.
"What sign?"
"perfect."
I rolled my eyes again. Whatever, guess I'd find out soon enough. I hoped I wouldn't need beer to get through it. Or something stronger. Grex gave my shoulder a quick but gentle squeeze as if to say 'it won't be that bad.' I knew without asking he wouldn't tell me what the sign said unless I ordered him to. I had absolutely no doubt the bastard saw it, he never seemed to miss anything. I suspected I wouldn't either, soon. After all, wasn't predicting the future a form of time dilation involving the senses? He had to be doing it somehow, and I refused to accept that I couldn't.
No doubt he'd tell me that little trick too, if I ordered him to. I kept my silence. It irked me, I hated surprises, but I hated feeling stupid more. I would figure it out, then I'd rub his nose in it.
Soon enough I saw the answer to the other little question, as Karen pulled into a state park. Not a big well known one, not around here. No, this was the "Plain of fire" state park, and apparently they were hosting a civil war re-enactment. I believe my jaw scraped the road as we drove past the posted sign, and I could see Karen's grin hit incandescent levels out of the corner of my eye. I was so going to need liquor for this.
Now, I have nothing against re-enactors, if that is the way someone chooses to spend their time, there are worse hobbies than dressing up, acting like your great-great-great (and more greats in some cases) granddad and shooting blanks at one another. A form of acting if ever I saw one, even if it never moved past the level of movie extra. But two glaring facts immediately jumped right out at me.
One was that we were perhaps several hundred miles away from any actual battle location, since we were in Arizona. Arizona wasn't even a state during the civil war, with no battles fought here. And if there was one thing I knew about re-enactors, they preferred to stage their little plays at the actual sites of battle. The second thing I knew, is that Plain of fire national park was in the desert, and it was stupid hot pretty much all the time, even in spring. At least they had some large pavilions for shade.
I wanted to make my way straight into the beer tent to start the festivities, but Karen's was pulling me again almost before I got out of the car. I really thought the bruises she had from bouncing off the solid vehicle like a pinball must be large and painful, but I couldn't spot so much as a wince or a limp.
"Not going to lecture me about having Grex around?"
She shook her head, keeping that vise like hand locked on mine.
"Nope, you're a big girl now, officially a summoner and everything. No probation's, no more plebe status. No one is going to tell you how to manage yourself in the field, provided you keep proving you can do the job your way. Just don't leave him out for too long and go mental on us! Not that I'm sure you can...."
The pavilion she was pulling me to was the first; absolutely filled with people, half of which were in woolen uniforms. In the desert. In the hot desert, in spring. My own estimation of their intelligence lowered, as my estimation of their will rose. They were gleefully chatting up the days of yore; of the days of wooden canteens and single shoot rifles using percussion caps. I happened to overhear the question on mine and probably everyone else's mind; those uniforms really weren't as hot as we all thought cause apparently a person sweated in them, and the cloth held the water.
I smelled a bit of bullcrap; but maybe they believed it.
After an hour of listening to the various sweaty people in handlebar mustaches and crazy beards chat about their gear and how hard it was to march. And some battle called Kennesaw bluff, where the western armies of the day, north and south strove to hold and take the high ground respectively. The north won that little fracas, battle at the time favoring the defender. It also had nothing on the sheer number of troops involved in later battles. Karen did all the talking on our end, asking all the usual obvious questions and making faces at the hardtack.
Apparently, there was a sort of line around that we had to follow... or go out in the sun and move around the sea of people. And since in the sun I burned like a vampire and I hadn't thought to bring sunscreen, it was slow going. In spite of all that I couldn't find myself hating the place. There was something earnest and wholesome here, beyond the obvious lies, deceits and jingoism, but I couldn't tell from where; only that it existed. As if it had a palpable presence all it's own.
I finally managed to wear Karen down, and we made our way to the beer tent; though that might have had something more to do with the fact that it was now midday and the re-enactors had left their respective places with their period gear in order to prepare for the event. If it could be called such. The sun was a physical presence today, beating directly upon the heads of the unprepared, which made the slightly cool summer Shandy a blessing. Lemonade and a dark beer, who knew they'd go together so well?
Technically we should have been carded, and I at least refused any liquor at the tent. But the bartender took one glance at the three of us, and simply took our money. I guess the attitude from the base involving adult beverages was shared. Or perhaps he was a vet, and knew summoners when he saw them. There did seem to be a good number of vets here, judging by the ink. Not surprising really, we were near a base.
Kind of disappointing in a way, how all wars but ours would have it's re-enactors. There would never be anyone wanting to relive demon attacks or battles. If we won, we'd never want to revisit the horrors of the past for fear of unsealing the horrors again. If we lost, well, there wouldn't be anyone to re-enact anything. The public would also like nothing more than to pretend none of this was ever happening. If humanity survived this entire chapter of history would likely be scrubbed with bleach. The cities would be buried instead of rebuilt; the countless dead
entombed within.
I did wonder though: what would happen to all those who fought in the war, demon touched and summoners alike, if It was ever won? Humans didn't really have a good history involving such things. I could easily see us winning the war, only to have some bureaucrat decide to gas us all to make sure the human race remained pure or to prevent another such war, or whatever bullcrap reason dreamed up and given. The fact is, keeping the knowledge alive wasn't a risk, it was the only way to prevent such carnage from happening again. If the knowledge of how to summon and
destroy demons was mainstream, it would be much harder to kill humanity as a whole, since any random idiot trying to summon demons to destroy the world this time would be identified and stopped in short order. Drive it all back underground however, and all bets were off.
I tried to tune out my dark thoughts and focus on the now, or better yet think of nothing. (how does one think of nothing? Isn't nothing always something if you think about it?) Karen said I would worry myself into an early grave by thinking too much; that the key to being a living summoner and a dead one was in reacting as opposed to thinking. I'm not sure I believed that, it seemed too much like her excuse for slacking off.
The crack of the gun powder (very much the real deal, not the modern powder formulas of today) was charming in a way; and the very fake deaths were hilarious after their own fashion, the listless pratfalls and gasped moans comedic yet somehow therapeutic. It was somewhat easier to turn off my stupid overworked brain for a few and just watch, chuckling at what were probably inappropriate times. I was never called on it however, some of the people I had pegged as vets were laughing right along, even as other vets on the field seemed to try to vy for the most hammed up death sequence.
I'm pretty sure the steady flow of beer helped too. Even the few people stricken with very real heat prostration or stroke seemed funny for some reason, bearing their condition with a smile and being tended to be the stretcher bearers as 'wounded'. The real work was done by nearby EMT's on standby of course.
And so it was with some surprise when I looked from the field in a sort of daze to find a pleasant afternoon spent, and Grex's feathery touch gently helping me to my feet. I looked back at the table to find an entire brewery of empty bottles laid before us, and quirked an eyebrow at a grinning Karen. Where had all that come from? I was pretty sure I'd only had three the entire time. I tried to look imperious as I swayed to my feet.
"You are a bad influence, Karen."
I did not slur my words at all. Much. She mock bowed but put on a false show of hurt.
"Moi? Not at all, these are all from our many admirers today. I merely moved a few bottles around while you were watching the show."
I looked around, really looked around. There were guys studiously not looking in our direction, sitting all around us. Most seemed to be studiously not looking at me, specifically. Now I was much more comfortable in my own skin than I was three months ago, but this sort of behavior still made me uncomfortable. Mainly because of the major disconnect I felt between then and now. Six months ago I'd have been the one trying to get the hot woman's attention but would never have approached someone so... aloof, instead just hoping she'd make the first move. Now
though it was all too easy to forget that, and classify such guys with the label they deserved, even if I would have shot them down without a second thought. They were chickenshit, every one of them. Too afraid or put off to even come up to me and strike up an innocuous conversation.
That conflict of thought worried me more than anything else.
As I carefully picked my way through the human mine field, I fuzzily pondered this. Was I becoming the type of woman that I hated? Cold, aloof, and angry for no real reason at all? I stayed silent till Grex helped me into the car.
"Karen, how many did you have?"
"Just the one at the start, I remembered our deal. No drinking allowed if I'm driving, our you'll shove large things where they don't belong."
"Good."
I would do it, too. But I had another question.
"Karen, do I strike you as... unapproachable?"
She did an almost comical double take while starting the car, and glanced my way while checking our rear for pedestrians.
"Well once someone gets past the obvious hurdles for a summoner, no. You do seem to have this power ju ju thing going on... almost like an aura of control, or command, or something. But no you're pretty down to earth. Just need to smile more, thaw out a little, and you'd be perfect. What brought this on?"
She made a good pun on my nickname, and didn't seem to realize it. she did seem to realize what I had been driving at though.
"Oh wait, you mean today? That's what this was about? No hon, today was all because you forgot one important detail; Grex. He was out all day, a feat no other summoner can achieve I might add, and in his human guise. Conveniently at your beck and call, he warded off all those who might have otherwise approached you simply by being there, as a guy. It was pretty obvious to everyone else you two were together, and he also has that type of aura thing going on. I'm actually a little jealous, you still had guys buying for you."
Oh. Oh, I'm an idiot. A total and complete idiot. social interaction 101, you don't hit on another guy's girl. Unless you're a total jerk and he's away doing something else, at the very least.
"So it was less me, and more just Grex being there?"
I should have sent him home. A quick glance proved that he was smirking that Cheshire grin of his. He'd known all along, and had enjoyed playing bouncer for me. He didn't want me to talk to anyone else but him, I could see it. Well I had a way to teach him manners. Or not to grin at me that way while I was drunk. One of the two.
"Grex when we get home, you're doing laundry. Don't screw it up."
He hated doing menial tasks like laundry or dishes. He hated the way bleach affected his hands. So, a fitting punishment! turning from his false contrition, I admitted:
"Well that's a load off at least; I was afraid I was too freakish to approach or something."
"From that lot? Nah, most are vets or families of vets, they don't discriminate on the little things, like skin hair or eyes. Now from the bible belt Midwest types, it might be a whole different ball game. I remember this one summoner, name of hentai, he had um... well he had facial tentacles, and he... "
I tuned her out. Seriously, I did not want to know all about the sexual exploits of a guy who had tentacles on his face. Though according to Karen, he was quite the crowd pleaser. who died outside the Ardenne, three years ago. Way to bring down the buzz there, Miss psychologist. I often wondered if her ability to say exactly the wrong thing at the right time was a condition of her training, or her own unique price quirk. Or at least that's what I thought it was; a side effect of having her emotions all but completely stolen. In other words, she pulled some truly
outlandish acts and behaved in an over the top manner - simply to be able to feel anything at all. How that translated to her glomping onto me for the last three months I did not yet understand.
Unless of course her assignment to watch me wasn't over yet. For my own protection of course, should I ask... carefully Maeve, tread oh so carefully here. For the path ahead is made of broken glass and salt. I doubted it was coincidence that one of two people with demons considered as strong or nearly as strong as my own was assigned to watch me. Most summoners did not have their own personal mentor/psychologist assigned to them; there simply weren't enough warm bodies for that. Which made me special. And worse, made me special right from the start, somehow. I
wanted to, but I could no longer deny the doubt. Trust was a commodity precious to summoners, I understood what dad meant when he said that, now.
I had to fight not falling asleep during the ride home, even after Karen took a glance at her watch and starting driving even more reckless that usual, muttering curses all the way. I wanted to as until what the hurry was, but I really didn't feel like caring. I hadn't been this drunk since... well, since ever, and all I wanted to do was just wallow in the mood until blissful ignorance washed over me like a tide.
Alas it was not to be. I came fully awake again as Grex helped me from the car, or at least more fully awake. The parking garage was empty. Not fully empty of course, the cars were still there. all of them. Every single parking space I could see had summoner transportation in it. Which was more than just a little unusual. It was kind of more like disturbing, in an alarm bells air raid sirens duck and cover kind of way. The limo parked illegally next to the fire hydrant was also a kind of red flag.
All of a sudden everything today made an awful sort of sense. I turned to Karen, who was walking rapidly to the lobby doors in a sudden hurry.
"Karen, what's going on?"
"Um, well, you know summoners. Any excuse for a party. You being official and all, well that's reason enough."
I did indeed know summoners; eat drink and be merry, and all that. Sigh. And going into the lobby it was clear to see no expense or pain was spared. Bunting was hanging from the ceiling, honest to God white and black bunting draped like spiderwebs in every conceivable direction. Odd lights, possibly black lights, also lined the corners, ceiling and floor. They weren't on yet. There was a DJ booth set near the bar, complete with a very nervous looking DJ. The entire place kind of looked like I'd imagine a class reunion to look like, all cheap plastic tablecloths and punch bowls filled with questionable liquids. And of course the entire place was packed with every single summoner living in the entire apartment complex, and more than a few that weren't. Which begged a question. So I turned to Karen, now grinning at me over the truly massive roar of the crowd.
Yelling over the shouts of: "Congrats on surviving rookie!" and "Speech!" I asked;
"If they are all here, who's minding the store?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Al's on shift, and Charlie is on call. We have it covered, quit worrying! Don't make me try to loosen you up again. I don't think I can get you drunker than you already are."
"Yeah that trick won't work twice, so good luck."
"Let's discuss it... over a nice stiff drink."
She started off to the bar as lights cut out, and what were indeed black lights cut on. The captain of all people, wheeled out a giant white cake with the words 'One of us' written in dark frosting. The kind strippers popped out of. I had a second to really hope it wasn't, and then the cheesy music started. One look at the sea of grinning faces, the light reflecting eerily off the assembled show of teeth, and I had my answer. Oh God.
It was worse than I feared - far far worse. My butt found a chair under me just as the imp popped from the cake, all spavined boney limbs and leather hide, in a fire engine red string bikini, pointed teeth also showing the light as it sang. In time but way out of key, some John Denver song. It wasn't the song playing of course, but that did not stop it as it sashayed over to me. Then it twerked, in front of my face, boney ass mere inches from my nose.
Karen returned just in time; I didn't even look at the shot glass she handed me, I just knocked it back. Summoners and their sense of humor; I really hoped I never got like that. I'm sure the look on my face is priceless though. The imp, job completed, vanished, leaving the bikini behind. I could breathe again. I wanted to say something, but didn't trust myself. I could hear them all laughing and congratulating themselves on a prank well pulled though. they were like demented children. Karen handed me another, and it promptly followed the first.
Then a real cake was wheeled out, and the festivities commenced, with the very green faced DJ taking requests. Sunshine and lollipops was the first hit, followed by over the rainbow. I was handed the first piece, again devil's food. The normal lights came back up, and the mingling commenced. I did my best to be social and gracious, at least until my fingers started to tingle.
It just so happened that Cords was near when I started to slide off the chair. Grex steadied me as he gave me a gimlet stare.
"Well it looks like Karen outdid herself. You're pretty lit."
"You should see the other guy."
I replied. I was sure that's what I said, but Cords looked as if he hadn't heard me. I might be more sure of what I said, but my lips were numb.
"Alright, this party can do without the guest of honor for now. Grex can you take her upstairs?"
"Of course."
I was whisked up, floating towards the elevators. Behind me Cords was making apologies for me. Another blink and I was in my bedroom. Cords and Grex both looked down from above as I floated on a cloud, both with near identical amusement and concern warring on their faces. Cords broke the silence first.
"You OK, Snow?"
"Um, yeah I'm OK... sort of numb and the room is spinning, but I feel fine."
That seemed to nudge concern over the edge for both. They shared a look in unison, in perfect sync. A little creepy, truth told.
"Ok, roll over. You can't sleep in your back tonight. Grex, are you going to be able to watch her tonight?"
"Of course I am. Don't be presumptuous, meat bag."
Bullcrap.
"Not if I send you home, you can't."
"Not tonight my mistress. If I leave you, your health could be endangered. So tonight, despite any orders you make, I stay with you."
"Oh pish tosh, I haven't drunk that much."
"You plainly have."
Cords broke it up, which was good, since sitting up now made my eyes cross.
"Um, I know this isn't the best time, but I wanted to ask you something today, and this has been the first chance I've had, so I'll just go for it. I have two tickets to the museum, the 'Evil in art' exhibit is tomorrow. Want to go after our shift?"
Wait, what? Did he just ask me out? Was I really drunk after all? So drunk I was hearing things? Grex's almost palpable aura of anger convinced me otherwise. So I could get social with a guy after all. They just had to be someone I had something in common with. Despite the way he was currently staring Grex down. Cords felt safe. Unassuming, retiring... as if I could simply tell him to go away at any time, and he would. No questions asked.
And I was interested in that exhibit. I had been waiting for it to travel to our little armpit of the world for months. Somehow Cords had guessed, or known.
"Um, sure. Think I'm going to pass out now."
With those final words, I simply floated away.
(tbc)
There was vomit on my floor. I could see it there. And of course I knew it was mine; I could taste it. At least I had managed to miss my sheets. The glass of water on the bedside didn't last ten seconds. Whatever possessed me to drink like that, on a night when I had work in the morning?
Oh, right. Twerking Imp. Good god, I needed brain bleach. I wonder if there was a spell for it. There had to be. Still spent, I flopped back on the bed and waiting for the pressure and pain in my head to go away. There wasn't any vomit on the bed or in my hair, so I wasn't going to move. Moving was for suckers.
"Mistress. It's time for you to get up. You have work today, do you not?"
"No Grex, I don't. Work is for people who are alive, and I am most definitely dead."
He entered the room and came over, bearing a glass filled with some dark liquid. He skirted the vomit and sat, holding it out.
"What is that?"
"Pomegranate juice. Good for re-hydrating after a long night drinking things that are bad for you, so I'm told."
Well he couldn't lie to me. I downed it, only spilling a little, then flopped back again.
"None of that now, you must get up mistress. You have work. Karen asked me to inform you that you were the only summoner on duty for the morning shift, and therefore could not call in sick."
Summoners were cruel. Cruel, mean horrifyingly vile people.They had obviously planned this, and should therefore have all manner of unpleasant things happen to them.
"Grex, how are you on hexes?"
He smirked in response as he took the glass, helping me up. He had no trouble at all following my thoughts.
"Very fluent my mistress. But I doubt I'd be able to hex any of the Summoners responsible; they are too well protected here. Perhaps if you could convince them to move out first...."
I shut the bathroom door right on his patented Cheshire grin; bereft his steadying presence I stumbled twice getting into the shower.
"Never mind, I'll think of something."
Getting revenge was a good a dream, while the hot water beat something suspiciously like energy into my muscles, and wakefulness past my scalp. My headache eased a bit, down past the levels where I wished for a hole in my head to let the pain out. I stepped out and still dripping, dry swallowed some aspirin. Getting past the nasty aftertaste, I waited for a moment to see if they would come back up - I never was all that good at dry swallowing pills. Only after my stomach settled did I then dare to turn off the shower and towel off.
Clothes were waiting outside the door; I'd forgotten to take any with me. Comfortable broken in fatigues and some of my best fitting underwear. Grex was nowhere to be seen, but I heard sounds in the kitchen one might associate with cooking. I muttered a thanks which I'm sure he somehow heard, and quickly gathered them up and shut the door.
Five minutes later I was all dressed and into the kitchen, heading straight for my spot and the coffee cup set before it. It was full, and full of my best coffee, and imported brand that was very mellow. Grex was going all out. The Belgian waffles smothered in strawberries and jam bore that out a moment later. It was almost as if he were apologizing for something.
I ate and drank in silence, giving the aspirin time to work. The clock in the kitchen still stated I had a good 20 minutes before I needed to care about leaving, which meant my alarm clock had to have been reset to go off at an earlier time. Maybe that was the issue? After all, I didn't give him permission to reset my alarm, so maybe he was apologizing for that? But it an seemed awfully petty reason. Hell, who knew how demons thought?
"Grex."
"Yes mistress?"
"Clean up the floor in the bedroom, then dismiss yourself. If I need your help I'll call you."
He bowed deeply.
"Yes mistress."
Something told me Karen was sleeping it off, so I didn't bother waiting. I just grabbed my purse and left.
I still hated my purse. I missed pockets, and kept forgetting the cursed thing, even months later. I threw my robe on on the way out the door. I was tempted to make as much noise as possible, in a petty attempt at some revenge, but chances were the other Summoners had not gotten as sauced as I had. After all, a pretty massive effort had been made; the stuff I had downed last night was in all probability not legal in the slightest - too much alcohol content.
As I suspected however, many of the cars in the parking garage were present; I predicted much of the magically oriented staff of the city were sidelined, at least till late morning. I didn't blame them at all, though I'm sure if the general knew heads would roll on general principles.
The drive in was easy though a bit slow, there were all kinds of wary traffic. There were no snarls for once, and all the Summoner reserved parking spots were empty, so I had my pick. A difference of maybe 50 feet, but I'll take what I could get. Cord's car, an older model Ford focus (oddly enough, I figured him for more of a car buff) was in the lot. I was glad for that, he at least would make the day less boring. Everyone else got to join raids or do other grunt work when the department wasn't busy, but the Summoners had to stay on call, and couldn't join any raids or busts unless there was a clear supernatural cause for it. So most of the time, It was just me, the other Summoners, (who were still a bit intimidating, despite being nothing but nice to me) and Cords.
Had he really asked me out last night? Had I really accepted? I felt pretty conflicted about that, if I were remembering the events correctly. On the one hand, I'd just been asked out by a guy, and had accepted. On the other hand, I was never going to be a guy again myself, and living in the past was a sure way to never really be happy. And on the other (yes the third) hand, I'd never gone on a date as the girl before, and had precious little date experience as a guy, so I was the metaphorical bundle of nerves. I could only hope I didn't screw it up too badly.
Could women even screw up dates? my admittedly limited experience as a guy seemed to suggest that all they needed to do was show up, and the guy would be ecstatic. Perhaps my own personal bar had been set too low? Or perhaps I shouldn't even bother thinking about it so I didn't drive myself into a panic attack and run screaming from the office? I caught myself nodding along with that thought as I reached the ADTF floor. It seemed like a decent idea, much like the idea to stop talking to myself when other people were present was. Conners was already looking at me askance.
At least, reviewing the last few moments, I was positive the only thing I'd actually said aloud was about panic attacks. So she didn't know about the whole date thing. If she had, I was certain she'd make all kinds of bad jokes about it. Not to mention the gossip....
Summoners talking to themselves randomly about panic attacks hardly warranted a mention on the local grapevine however. It was more the ones that didn't appear to be insane that were noteworthy. In this case, that was a blessing. The desks were mostly empty, however a few members of my team (squad B, team 3, the team I trained with the most) were present. Namely Connors and Judge. Connors sat down and pulled out some magazine involving European cops or something. And Judge had his rifle disassembled and was cleaning it.
Which of course left the communications room, and Cords. Throwing my purse at my desk and hitting it more or less dead center, I strode directly to it and opened the door. Fresh cappuccino, a few chocolate bars, and a bottle of aspirin sat in front of my usual seat, and "Top Gear" was already on. Cords was in his accustomed seat, just starting to lean back with a mountain dew in hand.
"I don't need the aspirin, but thank you. The rest shall be gratefully consumed."
"You're just in time, the bumbling trio are going to look for cheap 70's sports cars to race."
I closed the door and gratefully sank into my seat.
"Money is on Hammond."
"Heh, you always pick Hammond, and he always loses."
"Meh, I like to back the underdog."
I only had half my attention on the show of course. Did Cords look different today? His hair was neatly combed back, his uniform pressed with nary a crease or stain, and he seemed a little more at ease, somehow. The uniform had to be new, it was actually showing the smooth play of the muscle underneath, just a little. Was he really that buff all this time? I mean compared to the ones who hit the weights he wasn't much, but he was in definite shape.
Ugh, stop thinking about such things, you'll drive yourself crazy. Think zen. What is, is, what shall be, shall be, what was, is past. And right now, what is, is poorly maintained 70's Italian sports cars. That episode ended with little fanfare and much car breakage, and I drained my cappuccino as the metaphorical channel was then changed to crime documentaries. Some show on forensics, and how D.N.A. solved the crime... there are so many of those shows put out now that it's almost impossible to keep them all straight.
We were halfway through the first episode involving the new (maybe twenty years ago) process of of PCR testing when Cords sat bolt upright in his chair, almost pitching himself on the floor. I had just enough time start up myself when he hit the panic button, starting the floor alarm and emergency dialing the cell phones of those of us on duty.
"Got a call, it's priority, go go go!"
I turned my phone's shrilling off as I careened off the door, running flat out with Judge right behind me. Oh god, my first call and I was first responder; I hoped against hope it was a false alarm or prank. Even if that meant an arrest either way (we took our supernatural invasion call seriously) it'd be better than a demon running around loose, with only me to stop it.
Or Second (our second Summoner named Charlie, therefore Second was his nickname); but Second would be minutes away, and would likely only get a shot at the demon if I died. Not the most appealing option.
I made it to the armored truck just behind Connors, and we weren't last. All the running had paid off so far. Pearce and West filed into the assigned armored truck last. The truck rather than canvasing hum-vees meant that we already knew where the demon was and at least soft containment was in place. So command wanted a team on site at full strength ASAP. Squad A would be en route in the second one from their on call locations, but assembling them could take another 30 minutes.
The apparently another 11 minutes and 17 seconds; which was how long it took us to reach the location in question; which turned out to be a four block area in the middle of downtown. Fortunately it wasn't the lunch rush yet. No telling how much mayhem blocking off four square blocks off in the middle of downtown will cause if we didn't get this handled before then.
No pressure; none at all.
We all piled out, looking vaguely cop like (the others had taken the time in the back of the bouncy vehicle to clean up as best they could so a presentable image could be maintained. The captain tended to pass lectures on how we weren't maintaining a professional image on down, like a boulder rolling downhill). I didn't have to worry as much, after all, Summoners were supposed to be crazy. One I knew of one town over wore pink robes as part of his pact... and liked it. So a quick tug of the hood to bring it over my head and covering my face, and I was in uniform.
Pearce dragged me in front of the blue in charge, a rather tired looking sergeant; The rest of the team followed suit.
"SITREP?"
The sergeant managed to pull off a look saying 'why not just speak english?' before responding.
"exactly 10:12 dispatch received a call regarding a strange flying figure circling in this area, which vanished shortly thereafter. A quick check of our logged calls and notices revealed no military or ADTF resource use orders in the area. A mobilization of the ADTF to search the area and remove the threat, if there is in fact a threat was then issued. No we don't know where it is, though one of our snipers claimed to have seen it. The description he gave was of a large flying imp, man-sized and with an extremely long tail."
I decided to try and act like I was competent.
"The position it was last seen by your officer?"
He pointed left, above an office building that looked so new it seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.
"Flying above that building; Rodriguez saw it as he was setting up, but decided not to risk a shot. Saw it float over the edge as if it were landing there. Hasn't seen any hint of it since, and none of the others stationed on the roofs have seen anything."
Which of course meant nothing; invisibility was a thing. Pearce motioned us into a huddle, which I'm sure looked ludicrous.
"Alright here is the deal; standard canvas, teams of two. Snow and Grex, Dolph and I, Connors and Roddy, and Judge on over watch. Anyone sees anything, you call Snow; No heroics. Judge, you get to shoot only if it's to cover someone. Clear?"
WE all spoke our assent.
"Alright, Snow you're going to check last know position, Dolph and I got left bracket, Connors, Roddy, you got right bracket. Be careful, and let's go."
The other teams moved quickly, out and back under cover in less than two seconds. The idea was to use the buddy system to delay any demon they found, and watch each others' backs until I arrived. I was the artillery; the direct engage was my responsibility. Provided there was anything here, of course.
There was though. I could smell it, a very faint trace of something like death and mold. I couldn't quite pinpoint it, but I knew it was there. I also knew it wasn't really a scent, or the other people present would have been commenting on it; scents like that were usually a dead giveaway. Which meant that either my senses were better than everyone else's here, I was especially tuned to the supernatural to the extent that I could pick the smell out over anything else, or the scent was actually a psychic miasma of the type most demons left behind, and my brain was interpreting it as a smell. It was not the first option, and the second was doubtful, not that it mattered either way.
"Grex, Veni huc!"
My shadow reached up and hugged me from behind this time as Grex formed from it. Well at least I'd finally caught him in the act this time; now I knew how he was doing it. A good thing to note for later.
"You rang, my mistress?"
"Yeah, we got a call. Time to track down a rogue demon and destroy it."
I got whiplash, he turned serious so fast. And he immediately turned and looked directly behind him and up... where the demon was last seen. Curious.
"What is it?"
I just had to ask as I motioned him over.
"There is a demon present, and it is in that direction."
"Take me up to the top of that building. It was last seen there."
I hit the walkie feature on my phone.
"Captain, Grex has given confirmation of a demon's presence. I'm going now to investigate."
"Roger that. I'll see about getting our backup to get the lead out."
I turned back to Grex.
"Fly me there."
He picked me up bridal style as if I were glass, and popped his wings. We were airborne in a rush which intensified the odd smell briefly.
"So do you smell that?"
"You'll have to be more specific mistress. I can smell many things."
"I think I'm smelling the demon, or traces of it. It smells like a mix of old socks and roadkill."
He spared me a glance.
"Well, you're not wrong. Your... terminology is most descriptive."
"So I am detecting the demon? Why haven't I ever been able to before?"
He spared me another glance as we neared the building's roof. I really wished he'd keep his eyes front. I didn't want to end up slammed into an air conditioner unit or something.
"While the ability is one some of us demons have, it's not an 'exact science'. I'd theorize that you haven't been tense or anxious since you summoned me the first time."
I stared at him. He spared me yet a third glance as we touched down, and I was pretty sure I was choking him.
"Well, unduly so. As a result of demons, specifically. Possibly."
I let go of him and he in return let go of me; I made a show of brushing myself off. Then stared straight into his rueful face.
"You really have absolutely no idea, do you?"
"Not as such, no. This is new ground for all of us. While plenty of people have wished for the power of a demon, not many have wished for the power of a specific demon, or even demon royalty."
I cast around with my new shnoze power.
"But it HAS happened before?"
"Yes, at least twice to my knowledge."
The demon wasn't anywhere in sight, and the scent seemed to lead to the other side; it was hard to tell with all the crap placed on the roof. I started picking my way through cautiously, Grex beside me.
"And what happened to those people?"
"Well the first was some silly sultan of some silly desert country that no longer even exists as a memory. He thought to take the power of Dra'ruk, A lesser duke of the 5th circle who doubled as a minor god of gluttony... and ate himself to death, because while Dra'ruk gave him his power, he did not give him the immunities that were necessary to use it."
I thought for a minute. Why didn't Grex do that to me? It would have been a perfect con; or maybe he did, and he's been forced to keep me alive due to the other half of the contract made? Could one even do one part without the other, the way I worded things? I wasn't sure, but I thought I was safe, at least contractually. Being up here on a roof with a rogue demon slinking around while I was giving away my position by yakking like a moron wasn't exactly the safest thing to do. But I couldn't stop the words, it was like a disease or something.
"And the other one you know of?"
"Wished for the power of Lucifer himself, and promptly exploded, soul and all. Not the way to avoid paying a demon I would choose."
I shuddered. To have your soul shred itself like a tissue couldn't be pleasant.
"Mistress, I don't believe he is on this roof any longer; I cannot sense him near."
That way of sensing would be so much better than mine; smelling something that all but raped your nose, and only got worse the fresher it got, seemed pretty inconvenient at the moment. The trail led us completely to the other side.
"I'm pretty sure he flew off the roof and down, here. Probably before the other snipers were in position.' I keyed my phone again. 'Team, be advised the demon is no longer on the roof, he must have high tailed it out of sight before SWAT was in position. I'm following the trail as we speak. General south-southwest heading."
"Roger that, radio silence."
Which meant shut up until you find something, then scream your head off.
"Grex, time to fly again."
He was just as gentle this time, hoisting me up so fast I had a touch of vertigo. I held a finger to my lips, then directed him with pressure on the back of his neck, where I'm not ashamed to think (good luck to anyone, getting me to admit it) my hands were locked in a death grip. He caught on quickly, though the trail wasn't much of anything, just the same scent leading straight down to an alley.
"Connors, Snow! Sighting east of my position, West of first sighting, range 300 meters and moving away fast."
So more or less straight ahead of us, at the other end of the alley? Thankfully well away from my team with luck. Grex heard and flapped for some speed.
"Judge, Snow. sighting, flying target, past the barricade. Speed I make to be sixty miles per hour, straight west as an arrow flies."
"Faster Grex."
I almost tore his head off when he responded, though he didn't react at all.
"Pearce, Judge. You got a shot?"
"That's a negatory. ducked down and out of sight."
So no chance to slow it down. Crafty thing. Though what it was doing flying around in broad daylight was something I really wanted to know. Obviously not one of the ones weak to sunlight.
"Can you fly that fast?"
He nodded and increased the pace, causing my hood to fly back, and my hair to start stinging my face. Made me glad I didn't own a convertible.
"Pearce, Snow. ETA on team A is 15. Orders are to find the target, track the target, only engage to avoid civilian casualties."
"Snow, Pearce. Understood."
I kind of understood why the orders were given; with a blatant speedster like this one, and traffic due to start... the demon overrunning the barricade was the worst thing that could happen. I had no support at all; should I manage to corner the demon, it would be me and Grex versus
him.
But I was starting to get more annoyed and angry than scared. I'd trained for this, I wasn't incompetent, and I was getting sick of the inference from everyone that I couldn't manage one demon alone. Even if the demon was strong enough or odd enough to run around in daylight.
Once out of the alley Grex climbed, the G's pressing me back into him as he clawed for height. He didn't seem inconvenienced at all though, climbing about as rapidly as a hawk after a dive, so I focused on the scent, and leading him. We hit the barricade a moment later, flying over at light pole height as the cops manning it ducked and swore at us.
My relief was total when I noted there were no casualties; evidently the demon was more focused on getting away than damage. Likewise the streets beyond the barricade were mostly clear, and I saw no blood or obvious dismemberment. The smell was getting worse, and appeared to be leading in a ruler-straight line. I wasn't quite sure how the smell could get worse... but it was.
The trail led to a darkened parking garage. Not just a little dark. But an hour before midday, it was pitch black. Luckily enough one of the abilities I've always had (not one that just popped up randomly, like this smell thing) was the change to my eyes; I could see quite well in the dark, though I was limited to black and white. The little ambient lighting from the sun reaching through the few open spaces in the walls. Every single fluorescent light in the garage was broken, by the looks of it. This was worth checking.
"Snow, Pearce. Trail leads to a darkened parking garage eight blocks from the barricade. I'm going to canvas."
As soon as the phone clicked off I turned to Grex, who was also not encumbered in the slightest by the darkness.
"Roger that Snow, be advised that Judge has the garage in sight, and will keep the bird's eye out for our bogey."
"Understood."
Grex took the lead as we stalked along. I felt kind of ridiculous hunching low and sprinting from car to car, working my way up... but ridiculous beat taking a fire spell to the face. At the third floor, I started catching that scent again, even stronger than before. Suppressing my gag reflex was a battle... but I won. We made no sound I could hear in the darkness, our footing sure.
Did the strength of the scent correlate with the strength of the demon? I really hoped not. Cause the stench was horrible. Why did Grex not smell? Even if this power had just started up, Grex would stink too, right? But he didn't. I'd have to ask.
At the fourth floor, I started hearing voices, and saw a bit of light. Flickering quavery light, as if from a candle or something similar. We crept closer and I saw it was actually a torch, held by a skinny, pimply kid in a raged robe that looked as if a blind person had sewn it... while asleep. The torch also illuminated the crude circle crudely etched and then inked into the floor (I hope that was animal blood). The various knickknacks scattered around like so much trash hinted at a slow but less than standard summoning; I couldn't see any of the standard sacrifices or contractual soul guards we used.
A closer look revealed the pimply kid was looking gaunt, almost cadaverous. As if he were half desiccated corpse... which might be very close to the truth. Without our protections regarding summoning, the demon was a terrible drain on a person's life. There was a very real reason why only certain people were allowed (or taken and forced) to summon, after all. Not just anyone could handle the strain, or the entire draft would be meaningless. Proving my mental point, he started monologing, raising a bottle of pills.
"Finally, I can cure mom! And I didn't have to pay a cent! Damn doctors, blood suckers all of them! With Firriz at my side finally someone will be able to make them pay!"
His wild gesticulations finally showed the demon, a desiccated thing with a huge wingspan, wedging itself into a dark corner. I couldn't be sure, but I thought I saw the thing's eyes roll. It was most definitely an imp, though perhaps an unusually powerful one. To all appearances it was not detecting us. It wasn't panicking after all. A look at Grex, and a nod.
He jumped, and so did I, slowing the time around the kid to insane levels and turning just in time to eat a flash-bang in the face. Or something as close to it as made no difference. The scent briefly hit completely overwhelming levels, and something heavy hit me, driving me to the cold concrete. I struggled, trying to slow time around whoever it was, when my vision abruptly returned.
Grex was the one that had tackled me. And that of course, was why my time dilation powers weren't working; he was counteracting them. A quick glance at the kid showed him still mostly frozen, but the demon was gone.
"The demon had some sort of sense deadening power.' Grex whispered into my ear. 'I had to protect you. Thank you for not stabbing me with your athame."
I nodded my assent and gestured him off; we needed to catch the imp. It was loose now, the 'Summoner' had not given it orders, but it still ran. That smacked of freedom, which meant it was even more dangerous now. Why hadn't I thought to use my athame? It was a freaking combat knife for craps sake!
The imp was headed to the roof, no doubt to take off. I wasn't sure that it was faster than Grex, but it was pretty fast. I didn't want to risk it, but apparently the thing was just as fast running as flying.
Damn it!
"Get the hell back here you stupid stinking imp!"
The words left my mouth before I could shut it or call them back. Grex somehow found time to lift an eyebrow at me while we ran at our top speed. I'm sure I was blushing, and his smile was insufferable.
But I was strangely vindicated by what happened next.
The imp came back. We heard it before we saw it, shuffling, groaning, and spouting words in different languages that I was sure were curses. What the literal crap? I mean... dafuq?
Then the imp hove itself into view, running at me full tilt and with it's claws outstretched and a snarl on it's face. Grex placed himself between us in a flash, ready to fight, but I had another idea.
"Stop!"
The imp stomped, clearly angry now, if the way it was chewing it's own lips to shreds was any indication. It seems I had the power to compel this demon somehow. I hadn't even used the thing's name to compel it. I wonder how far I could press?
"Go back home to hell, imp, and do not come here again unless called."
Very much against it's will the words ground themselves out of the ruin of it's mouth:
"Yes my lord. Understood my lord."
And it winked out from one blink and the next, as if it had never been.
Grex was staring at me, for once clearly surprised.
"Hey don't look at me, I don't know. Though apparently I can command more demons than just those that bear my mark."
"Apparently so, my mistress. It is gone, yes back to hell. As bloodless an end to this encounter as could be achieved."
I snorted.
"You don't have to sound so disappointed. Come on, let's go secure our prisoner.There will be plenty of time for you to tell me how I just did what I just did later."
A set of manacled metal gloves without segments (so the fingers couldn't move) a nice silk gag, and a set of leg manacles and I was ready to drop the field; which was just as well, because the effort of keeping it up was something I was starting to feel. He immediately dropped as soon as I let go, looked up, and glared at me.
I'd been glared at by the best lately; his was nothing. Though I did wince a bit when his left eye started bleeding, the blood pouring from a rent in the eye itself. Seems the decay was already into the more permanent stages. Not that he had a chance of living either way; once he started the ritual, his fate, life and soul, was sealed. I felt a twinge of pity for the boy when I picked up the bottle and read it.
"Whatever you wanted this medication for, you were scammed but good kid. This is Digitalis. It's pure, and a poison in these amounts. Even using this to treat a heart condition would be extremely dangerous. Let me guess, you asked for a cure to a medical condition as part of your contract?"
His eyes narrowed, and he nodded.
"Well you got well and truly screwed kid. Sure this will cure any medical condition; death always does."
His eyes widened, and he started crying bloody tears, fighting back sniffles.
"Watch him Grex."
I walked a good distance away so I wouldn't have to hear him. The road to hell indeed, he's given up his soul willingly, and his life less so, all to almost kill his mother (by the looks of things) with a prank cure.
"Snow, Pearce. Situation resolved; demon banished, summoner caught. Location is the parking garage. No on site casualties. Please advise."
"Pearce, Snow. Secure and contain. Team ETA is 10. Should give you plenty of time to explain why Summoner Snow went in alone, without backup, and against orders?
urk.
(tbc)
The unwritten handbook of life states: “when in doubt, and called by others who have authority on a questionable situation, obfuscate.”
In other words; lie, lie, lie.
I had several minutes to create a believable lie, and my mind was racing. When lying, the simplest one is often the best. Simple lies made it hard for anyone to gainsay you, and hard for you to forget what you said later.
So when Pearce finally walked up, lagging a bit behind the rest of the team (busy securing the site in between shooting me concerned looks) I discarded the first five ideas I'd had and said the first thing that surfaced, right as he opened his mouth.
“A human was in danger.”
He closed his mouth, looked around, then opened it again.
“And where is this citizen somehow missed in the sweep?”
I pointed to the summoner. He stared at me.
“So you risked yourself, and the operation, in order to save the life of the summoner? Is that what I'm hearing here?”
I nodded.
“He is still a citizen, isn't he? Didn't you say to avoid citizen casualties? Well he still counts, summoner or not, right?”
Wow, that stare was pretty good. I felt lower than pond scum when he stared at me like that. He'd make a fine mother or something.
“No, the summoner does not count; for future reference, if the situation arises again, you keep yourself safe, and let the summoner die.”
I nodded, trying to look contrite. I don't think he was buying it, but the excuse would fly in our world, where our kind were notoriously twitchy, and he knew that. At least, he knew that judging by his sigh.
“Look on the bright side! Now we have a moron to question about how he managed to get a hold of summoning rituals. He had to get them from somewhere, and now we can track them down before he dies!”
Sarah walked up.
“Or after. Snow's right boss, she did good. Maybe we can plug this leak we have, before it becomes a flood. This way we can make sure the demon doesn't devour the soul before we ask the questions.”
The point was conceded.
“I know, just, try not to make a habit of it. I really hate replacing you people, and so far you're the most sane I've seen, even fresh out of the program.”
Is he kidding?
“Are you shrooming? I've seen an imp twerk in a bikini; no way in hell I'm sane.”
No way anyone could be, after that. I stand 100% behind that reality. Pearce paled. Sarah paled. Cords, who had been easing closer while checking something or other with a strange device, paled.
“Dear god, they do it to themselves.”
I knew just what to say to put the fear of God into them all.
“Ask the captain, he was there.”
I only thought they had paled before; I was fairly sure all the blood they possessed was in their shoes now. Sarah was actually swaying on her feet.
“Hey calm down, sheesh; you guys act like you had seen it first hand or something; relax.”
Cords was first to speak, voice an octave higher than normal.
“Sorry, that is... just not a pleasant image.”
“Tell me about it. So um, do we need to stick around? We already have copies of the circle and samples of all the fluids. Anything else we need in order to be proper police persons?”
I had sketched the circles to compare them to the ones I knew later; and Cords had taken photos with a massive camera. The fluid samples I'd taken and tagged, using small vials most summoners carried. Usually though crime scene investigations were not our forte. I was just curious.
“No, we're good. You can do what you want, we're just securing the scene till SWAT and CSI get here.”
“I can do what I want?”
“Well, summoners frequently do. Most of them wander off after the excitement is over; not entirely sane, remember?”
Nice, it seems being crazy had it's advantages.
“I suddenly feel the urge to run around screaming... in the direction of that coffee shop we saw on the way in. Any objections?”
I was in awe when he waved me away with shooing motions. The power summoners possessed, just to get out of work. With my team as willing accomplices. This was... crazy. Left unspoken was the trust; they trusted me not to flake out if I sensed another demon, and were giving me a pass.
Or they were testing me. I had a feeling the tests never stopped. Either way, I wasn't going to object. But I was going to stay close.
The coffee shop was closed of course, the people that had been evacuated only now being allowed back in. For some reason, this annoyed me. For some reason, it took actual effort to suppress the annoyance. I wanted to just break in and take the coffee, and leave the money on the table. Entitlement, after a fashion. I might have even done it for one white hot moment, except I realized while I fought the feeling that I had no money. Just my standard debit card.
Was this what all summoners felt? This sense of entitlement? I'd just saved your lives from a demon, you owe me a coffee? It felt right, the emotion... But I knew it wasn't. Oh, in a way it was; I'd been forced into this job by the population at large, and it was their fault for all that had happened to me, whether I never met the vast majority of them or not.
I was destined to die horribly and have my soul sucked from my still new form with some sort of demented straw of the damned, but it wasn't everyone else's fault. It was just fate. Well that and my mom. At least I could tell her what a bitch she was when we burned together.
Even if I became as successful as her in the business, and demons at large hated us both equally, surely they wouldn't pass up that chance to spit in her face by plunking me down right beside her as a constant reminder of who she was, and had been.
And now I was back to fighting that sense of entitlement again. I'd have to speak to someone about it. Karen? She was our psych, but that idea was cringe worthy. Who else could I trust to keep it kind of quiet though? That raised another issue.
The military and police were all of my world now. Somehow it had just happened. I hung out with either the task force, some few hardy regular cops that weren't repulsed by me, or my squad. My father, just a little. He was still angry about what I'd done to mom, and that I wouldn't apologize for it, even though he understood. I had become isolated in the last six months, to a rather frightening degree.
There was little trace of the person I was anymore.
I had done a few discrete checks; most of my friends were out of town at college, or already part of the work force. Precious few of any of our class had stayed here, something I understood. Except for the base, there were no true careers around this area. Aside from the military, there was no future here.
The only ones left were former annoyances. I couldn't even call them enemies, they lacked the hatred and ability to qualify as such. They were beneath me now. Those and people from my peers I'd never really known... also beneath me. I no longer had anything in common with anyone normal anymore.
Even the normal beat cops were a little too world weary to be considered normal; and they wouldn't hang out with a crazy robe wearing white haired girl in any case. Hell, more than a few of them ran. I could almost hear their mental screams sometimes.
How long could I withstand it? The ostracism, the casual hanging out with those (and only with those) who were clearly insane before I cracked completely too? How long had the rest made it? Had they ever been sane at all?
Had I ever been sane at all?
Being sane was a state of mind, which eased the facilitation of certain members of the human race with each other. Looking back on it, there was a very good chance that I had never been sane from the start. Or maybe it was the worlds fault.
Or maybe I was just thinking way too much.
An almost marching cadence of footwear to pavement and a hum that rapidly grew to a dull roar alerted me; there was a veritable throng of people headed my way, chatting at each other without a care. At every business some would break off from the human wave, and enter. There was no sign of a police escort, and yet the mob was orderly and composed. Or as orderly and composed as a mob could get.
These people had just experienced a demon attack, thinning their number. From what I understood, several pharmacists from the corner chain drug store, along with a few patrons. I couldn't see it from here, but I was willing to bet that the place was still cordoned off, the crime scene investigators gathering whatever evidence they could.
I'd also guess the bodies were still being carted off. This casual dismissal of death seemed both brave in it's way and a full on denial of the facts of life. It smacked of complete disrespect in a way. Or maybe it was just me. Could it just be me?
“Um, excuse me?”
I looked up to see the herd passing, a few of it's members standing in front of me. The one who had spoken was a mousey little brown haired thing sporting glasses I couldn't properly see through. She was cute, in that nerdy way young women with glasses can be.
Behind her was an older, tall and gaunt man with sporting a mournful expression and many lines on his face. Behind him was a blond guy with surfer good looks, bouncing on his heels. He seemed very far from his natural home.
All three wore matching uniforms, with their names and the name “The Grind” on them. The brunette was Patricia, the lurch wannabe was Abe, and the beach bum was Darren. Patricia was the one standing in front of me, mouth open, and key in hand. I realized belatedly I was leaning against the door. The door to the coffee shop she wanted to open. I stepped aside in a hurry.
“I'm sorry.”
She seemed startled. Was it that odd to apologize for standing in the way of someone trying to work? Were people in this town that rude? Or was it just summoners? Or was it just the reputation of summoners? It could also be the fact that a rogue summoner had just killed a few people, but the licensed ones shouldn't be tarnished due to that, should it? I mean after all, I'd just stopped the demon. I'd done it quickly professionally (at least as far as anyone knew).
Patricia unlocked the door and hurried inside, followed by Abe and after a short delay Darren; Mr. California living was trying to check me out through the robes and hood while standing in the doorway. He finally gave it up just slightly after it was obvious and hurried inside himself.
Patricia was already behind the counter and clicking buttons on the register; Abe was just crossing the divider and the beach bum almost blocked my view of the establishment... and the establishment's view of me. But Patricia looked up and spotted me. And then she gave another start, more violent than the one outside.
“I'd like a caramel machiato, please.”
She actually stuttered while Abe started one of the machines. Darren started wiping down tables, trying to pierce the veil (or robe) again.
“R-r-right, coming right up!”
They took their time, working in silence. Patricia fumbled more than once while ringing me up, but Abe was rock solid behind the machines. Soon enough the drink was served up, and it was... heaven. Pure heaven in a coffee cup. Well worth the tip I'd just signed off on. Literally the best I'd had.
“Thank you Abe, that was the best caramel machiato I've ever had.”
My thanks seemed to stiffen up Patricia's spine.
“Um, excuse me... are you the summoner that stopped the demon?”
I nodded.
“yes I am.”
I prepared to hear the worst, or just to be dismissed. Patricia had a pleasant suprise for me.
“Um, thank you. For stopping it, I mean.”
“Sure, just doing my job.”
I waved, and was almost grinning when Darren ruined it, sort of.
“Damn, she's hot!”
Apparently he'd finally been able to catch that elusive glimpse. He was brave in his own way; most people wouldn't try. I couldn't be happy I had just been complimented... could I? Should I? Damn it. Another blow to the person I was, while the person I am was happy I was attractive enough to turn heads.
I knew I wouldn't be happy until I had adjusted, and I knew all the time training had hindered that process, but this was getting awkward. No more second guessing; it wasn't healthy. My early new years resolution.
My phone chirped.
“Yes?”
“It's Pearce. Where are you, Snow?”
“In front of the coffee shop down the street from the garage, near the corner of Piedmont.”
“Right, stay there, our ride is picking you up.”
“Understood.”
I didn't have to wait long, even with the resumption of traffic and it's snarls, very few people stayed in front of an ADTF transport. Traffic on my side flowed away from the garage, but that was no problem fro Judge. He just stopped in the middle of the road. Not a single car horn sounded. I stepped out into traffic and again, nothing.
I looked carefully both ways, and walked nonchalantly across the street, past the stopped cars. Normally I'd have insisted he just swing by, get the team, and get me on the way back when it wouldn't break the law. But he was already here and stopped, and already causing the disruption. Best to minimize it. Even the cars in the lane nearest me wouldn't move until I was safely out of sight.
Judge was going to hear it though. Stepping to the back, I found that Cords was there with a hand, which I took... mostly because mounting little steps in robes could be time consuming and balance challenging. Stepping on the hem of a robe sucked, it wouldn't tear or give... which meant you could end up on your butt.
“What the heck, Judge? You couldn't just get the team first and swing around? Pretty sure that what you just did was illegal.”
“Following orders Snow, and I quote: 'go get little Snow first; she's all grown up now, but it's still a dangerous world out there.' Not sure why you were a priority myself, but I do my job. I don't like the idea of being homeless in the desert.”
I scoffed at that idea. I was pretty sure Sarah would never let him stay on the streets. Of course, I wasn't sure he knew that, but the torch carried was probably big enough to light up an opera hall or a theater.
“Whatever. I'll just bug Pearce.”
“No no, Snow, those orders didn't come from Pearce. They came from the Captain.”
“The captain is here? I thought this was just a squad operation?”
Cords interrupted.
“No he's not here, but he was monitoring the chatter. He called me, I called Pearce, Pearce called you and then Judge.”
Wow, that seemed... terribly inefficient.
“That seems like a huge waste of time.”
Judge felt obligated to answer the question laced into my tone.
“Proper channels, Snow. Still a rookie I see. Got to go through proper channels because it could be a demon mimicking our voice on the walkie or the phone. If I call you directly, and say the captain told me to pick you up, then you should be cautious. Pearce is your boss in the field. No one else.”
Cords interrupted again.
“And when you get enough experience, Pearce won't be your boss anymore, you'll be making decisions alongside him. Then you'll answer only to the Captain.”
I shook my head.
“Well that day is a long way off.”
“Just don't get impatient, you'll get there. You have the talent. After all, the demon today didn't even lay a finger on you, did he?”
Was he trying to butter me up for tonight or something? It was kind of sweet, in a way, praising my skills as a demon touched 'killer'. I was happy no one other than Grex and myself knew the truth; I wasn't sure it mattered how I did the job, but letting a demon go back to it's realm after it had killed a dozen or so people likely wouldn't sit well with the brass.
Even if I had made sure it couldn't come back unless summoned by one of us.
The chain of command tidbit rang true in a way; while it wasn't official, only the stupidest of ADTF members ignored the advice or orders of their summoner on scene. The only reason I was taking orders at all in fact was because of my rookie status.
I didn't want to discuss it anymore; we were at the entrance to the parking garage, and my team was waiting. Cords was monitoring comms again, so I opened the door for them, and they piled in. I had to ask the million dollar question.
“Well, anything unusual?”
Head shakes all around. Pearce clarified.
“Nah, standard stuff. Just had to wait for the crime scene people before we could scrub the place. Clean up was pretty easy for a standard site, the concrete patched fine and the blessings were quick. Father Arnold does good work.”
Father Arnold was our foremost resident catholic priests; he knew all the rituals to stave off possession and demonic attack, as well as the proper rituals to cleanse sites of demonic influence after we had done our job. Did it work? No. But it did help the populace feel better about going back into places that used to be frequented by demons.
At least Father Arnold and a few others we called we actual accredited priests. There were actually scammers out there that just recited mumbo jumbo and collected a fee. People truly were amazing sometimes. The fact that we even had to call priests in after taking care of a demon, even though they were powerless to stop demons, spoke volumes about faith and delusion.
“You alright Snow?”
Pearce, breaking me from my musing.
“Yes, I'm fine. Just heavy thoughts, you know?”
“Yeah I do. Your first demon is always the worst. It's one thing to train for it, it's another to have the demon right in front of you and know that this time isn't an exercise. Off the record you did well though, the demon didn't even touch you. If you don't mind my asking, what exactly were you thinking of?”
I knew a trap when I saw it, but I'd have to be blind to miss this one.
“Just how if Father Arnold could do his job properly, we wouldn't have to.”
Sarah and Pearce both winced. There were no atheists in foxholes.
“Sorry.”
He waved me off.
“No need to apologize; you're right. It's a placebo for the masses. I think God is out there, he just doesn't like us very much at the moment.”
“Moot point either way; if he's not going to help, we need to help ourselves.”
And Sarah had just encapsulated the entire summoner creed in a sentence. I'd been fed that line for months, well years. Perhaps even my entire life. I even believed it.
“So, any other thoughts? How did you take care of the demon, anyway?”
Urk.
“Time dilated it, then banished it.”
I could all but see the disapproval in the air like a hatred heat haze as that question crackled in the air.
“Not killed?”
“I wasn't sure I could hold it in place long enough to destroy it, and banishment seemed a more secure option than just hitting it while it tore apart the summoner. It was after all, what I'd trained for. I wanted to save him and see where he got the information he used. Some of it looks like what we use.”
Glad I didn't tell him how it really happened. He'd likely be even more pissed.
“Whatever; not like it matters, the hordes of Hell are far more numerous than we are anyway. It's just the unofficial stance of this department that demons be destroyed whenever it's feasible. Something to remember for next time; just don't risk yourself or the team for it.”
“Duly noted.”
The rest of the drive was finished in silence, though not a heavy or angry one. Instead it was more a sense of contentment, of a job well done. For that I was grateful. In truth there wasn't a department or military squad that didn't have that unwritten rule. Whittling down the numbers of your enemies was always a sound and prudent policy.
I just hadn't wanted to kill. I'd have to get over that, as well as make sure no one ever found out about my momentary lapse. I wasn't too sure what the fallout would be if someone learned it, but I knew it wouldn't be good for me.
I looked up as we drove inside the police parking garage. I really needed to stop zoning off; even here, surrounded by my team, I wasn't truly safe. No summoner was. Pearce, already up, opened the door and jumped out.
“Alright, home again home again, deedely do.”
Well that was odd. Especially from Pearce.
“Alright Snow, now the fun begins. The after action report and briefing.”
I groaned, That report was 4 pages long! There was even a spot on it that asked what you had for lunch that day! Why did the brass even need to know that? At least it was all computerized. I'd really hate to have to type such a thing by typewriter or write it by hand.
I'd have to ask my dad. Whenever we started talking again, that is. He wasn't exactly a fan of mine for how I left mom that day. Or for my continued refusal to speak to her.
Once on our floor, I made a beeline for my desk and went right to it, firing up that 10 year old dinosaur they saddled me with. The form was on the desktop, placed and titled prominently so that even a complete computer illiterate could find it.
“Hey Snow, how'd it go?”
Charlie, the other summoner on shift. He would have been on standby. He showed no evidence of being annoyed at having sat in a hot transport only to turn around and come back, like I would have.
“Imp, a strong one with flight and claws. Tricked some poor shmuck into summoning it somehow. Can't talk, typing.”
There was something he saw in my eyes he didn't like.
“Ummm, right. I'll leave you to it and ask later.”
“Thanks.”
The report only took a good twenty minutes. Most of that was trying to describe the scene in the parking garage. I mean I couldn't just say 'heartbreaking' and leave it at that, could I? I couldn't say heartbreaking at all in fact, so I settled on a description of the surroundings.
I also had to make up the fight I'd lied about; I said the summoner had discovered he had been duped, and attacked the demon out of spite, and the demon had been able to retaliate. A side effect of being improperly bound. All bunk of course, but they couldn't disprove it. I hoped. I recognized the circle used, and it was a pretty lax one, easily used for all kinds of summons and full of all kinds of loopholes when improperly etched.
Freshly copied report in hand, I went in search of the boss. I found him talking to the chief. Of course I couldn't walk in on that, so I waited. I did not have to wait long; he strode from the room in his usual larger than life manner some five minutes later.
“Captain.”
“Yes, Snow?”
I help up my report.
“Right, that goes to me. You could leave it on my desk next time.”
“What about the after action briefing?”
“Postponed pending our investigation. The prisoner is catatonic, and the evidence recovered is kind of suspect, so we're still sorting that out.”
Uh oh.
“You didn't notice anything unusual, did you?”
“No sir. At least, I don't think so.”
He muttered, shaking his head.
“Of course not, this was your first demon after all, you wouldn't have a frame of reference for such things.”
He muttered a bit more that I didn't catch before speaking up again.
“Alright, make more copies of your report and circulate it through the office. One per desk; we need to make sure everyone gets the word on what happened.”
I all but saluted from his tone alone.
“Yes, sir. The others too?”
It might help to have the other points of view. He bobbed his head before striding off. A bit abrupt of him.
I returned and made my copies. Distributing them, I saved Cords's for last. I knew I'd be seeing him tonight, and I really wanted to be a bundle of nerves about that, but I needed a place to relax now, someplace with a friendlier than just work acquaintance face, and his office would do in a pinch. At least wondering what had raised the Captain's suspicions made me view the date with more perspective.
Ugh, wait a minute. I'm going about this all wrong. Time to find the Captain, again.
I found him this time getting a coke from the machine a floor down.
“Captain.”
“Yes?”
“You said something was unusual about the call today; I've tried but I can't place what's wrong. At the risk of sounding stupid, what did I miss?”
“Come this way.”
He led me into a nice handy out of the way alcove in the hall.
“I know what you're thinking. No one here is questioning your performance. The demon is gone, the civilian summoner was caught, lives were saved. You did good, and are not in any kind of trouble. You didn't miss anything, you simply don't have enough experience yet. The fact is the circle used is an old one. Very old, but you see them all the time... at the front.”
I pondered that.
“Which front?”
“Eastern.”
So, Nazi, and not Russian. What was an old Nazi summoning circle doing here?
“Yeah, you see the problem now. Furthermore, it fell out of use because it was Swiss cheese, as circles go.”
“I thought it looked familiar, but couldn't place it. So it was one we used at one time, but fell out of favor?”
“Possibly, more your field than mine. But you see that exact circle scrawled all over the remains of the Germany, if you can make it that far.”
Wait, that was odd.
“Down to the line?”
“Yep, exactly, you're getting it now. Makes the living dead man you brought in even more important than he otherwise would be.”
He slapped me a comrade like slap on the back which had me windmilling for balance.
“You do good work Snow, don't stress so much... you'll turn your hair white.”
He set off on his next destination with a wave. Grinning bastard. Oh well, it was infectious. I'd been too paranoid, perhaps. For some reason thinking everyone was out to persecute me in various ways, over my choices or set me up for my mistakes.
Or maybe it wasn't really paranoia. Maybe they were out to get me.
Why did I feel that way? Like a soldier behind enemy lines? The feeling had only been getting worse lately, and as far as I could tell, there was no call for it. Summoners were in fact, subject to some forms of betrayal (or at least I considered them betrayal) but it seemed to early for the powers that be to decide I was a danger to humankind, or something similar.
That was a bridge I could only cross once I actually came to it. The feeling of hidden depths, and monstrous undercurrents was another impression that was only getting stronger. Politics was a shark infested ocean, and I was a mere guppy here. The more immediate fears I had were eased however, so it was time to return to my earlier mission; delivering my report to everyone.
It was time to hand this silly report to Cords and then veg in his office to some silly show.
I arrived and immediately knew something was wrong. The lights did not work; only a single candle illuminated the darkness. That candle was on top of a cupcake; chocolate with strawberry icing unless I missed my guess. “Whose line is it anyway” was showing on Cords's main computer screen, and he was nowhere to be found.
I took the hint however and sat, placing my report in his much abused paperwork inbox. Honestly it looked like there were reports from a year ago in there. At least it wasn't as bad as his outbox.
I'd just settled in and began to laugh crazily – the props section always got me – when the door opened. A hand holding a large Mountain Dew snaked it's way past my head, and set it's cargo down next to the cupcake.
“Sorry, you're a bit early, and I got caught talking about comm protocols with some of the 911 responders. Seems one of them has some ideas on how to make our panic button system faster.”
“No problem;' I pointed a the cupcake. 'What's the occasion?”
“Coming back alive from a demon hunt. That and cupcakes always go better with this show. If it was Top Gear, I'd have pretzels.”
Um... OK, Whatever. He saw my look.
“I'm just kidding. I just felt you'd need it. If you don't want it, it's fine.”
“No, I do, was just a bit curious is all.”
The cupcake was good mix of flavors, and with the candle stuck in it blown out, we were mostly in the dark. I didn't mind, my eyes could see in it just fine. I don't think Cords minded either; the way he stared at the screen with fixed determination was kind of endearing.
Before I knew it, our shift was over. Kind of ironic that with my power over time, time had somehow gotten away from me. I don't think I'd ever get over the irony of that one, no matter how many times it happened. Cords shut down the computer he used to entertain us. I knew he didn't like the next shift guy (a guy with the nickname Cable, oddly enough) messing with it so he pulled the power supply out of it. Every night. And like most nights, I watched him do it this time.
“So um, how do you want to do this?”
I considered for a moment.
“Well the tickets are for the private viewing for 7 tonight, right?”
He nodded.
“Isn't the guy supposed to pick the girl up?”
“Yeah, he is, but could we skip that part? To be honest, where you live kind of makes me nervous.”
Darn.
“Yes we can; where do you want to meet up? The museum?”
“Let's try meeting up here, then I'll drive you to the museum, and drive you back here.”
That seemed convoluted and wasteful as heck, but whatever.
“Sure, that's fine. See you around 6:30 then?”
Why did he look so nervous? Hadn't we been hanging out for months?
“I'll be here.”
I finished off the drink and walked out, throwing the can away with practiced aim on my way out the door. I wasn't going to leave a mess around.
Of course I'd gotten no farther than my car before Karen caught up.
“Get in, Get in, I'll meet you at your place, we need to hurry!”
And before I could respond to that she was gone. Seriously, I was beginning to think she had time warping powers of her own. She was that fast; like a chipmunk on speed. I wondered what her issue was; did she want to discuss the demon attack, or something else? What was the rush?
The drive home was therapeutic; traffic was terrible of course, but people had long since started recognizing the car. No one really wanted to get in the way of Snow White. I wasn't nearly as recognizable, but having the car linked to any summoner meant I could park it in the worst neighborhood in town with the keys in it, and it's still be there when I got back. It also meant my back bumper stayed clear of other vehicles seeking to merge with it.
Of course, Karen was at my door, hopping from foot to foot like... well a demented chipmunk on speed. I needed to come up with some new material; even my own head was getting bored with my lines.
“What are you doing?!? Come on, we need to hurry, if we don't you'll be late!”
Wait, was this about the date?
Karen had evidently lost patience at one point; she already had my lock picked. I knew this because she dragged me through my own door while I was fumbling with my keys.
“Come on, we need to get you cleaned up first, we don't have much time.”
“Karen, stop pulling already! What's the rush, I have an hour.”
“You spent all day running around in a dirty parking garage in sweaty robes fighting demons. Now strip and get showered while I pick something out.”
She switched from pulling to shoving. I still couldn't understand how someone smaller than me could be stronger. Maybe I just didn't have enough rage.
“That's a gross exaggeration, and you know it.”
“Go get clean.”
I had my own bathroom door slammed in my face.
With a shrug I did as ordered, trying not to think of how Karen was even now going through my closets, no doubt trying to find the most embarrassing thing she could to wrap me in.
It seemed like no sooner than I stepped into the shower, than whirlwind Karen was through the door yelling at me to get out. The door I was sure I locked before I got in. Glad I wasn't really dirty.
“Come on, hurry up! We need to get your hair dried, make up done, and dressed in 40 minutes! Sigh, never enough time.”
She started dragging me again, snagging some towels on the way out. At least she let me wrap a towel around myself. She didn't let go until I was safely plunked down in one of my kitchen chairs, a large mirror I didn't possess in front of me. She handed me a hair dryer, and then picked one up herself.
Two hair dryers.
That was all I saw for a bit; Karen was trying to strangle me with the towels she grabbed. Either that, or trying to give me the biggest towel noogie she could. It really could go either way.
It seemed to take forever before she was satisfied, and let up. My glare didn't seem to phase her at all. I obviously needed more practice. I tried to grab my brush, and she smacked my hand.
“I think the simple approach is best here. We'll go for a nice loose cascading waterfall effect. Shouldn't need much. Trying to put all that up or braid it would just take too long.”
What? Cascading waterfall? All she was doing was brushing it out. The same thing I did everyday. Only she was counting brush strokes. I thanked whatever powers that were responsible (probably Grex) that my hair was hard to tangle; at the rate she was going a tangle would yank my scalp off.
Then out came the make up; I had hidden the large kit well in the back of my closet under my shoes, but Karen had found the thing.
“Shouldn't I get dressed first?”
She gave me her best 'are you stupid?' look.
“And chance getting make up all over your dress? I think not.”
Wait a minute, dress?
“What dress?”
“The LBD we got you months ago; this is a black tie affair. We don't get many of those here, I'm kind of jealous. A mecca for arts and learning we are not. Cords probably had to pull a string or two among what passes for the cities' rich and obnoxious.”
“Oh? Cords is connected?”
“No, not that I'm aware of. But how else would he get tickets?”
Sigh.
“Pay for them?”
She actually stopped for a moment, shocked.
“But those tickets are like a whole twenty bucks! It says “invitation only” right on the invitations! The mayor will be there!”
I rolled my eyes as hard as I could. She didn't notice, but started pulling out the crap I almost never used.
“You know I hate you right? You don't even really need concealer or foundation.”
That said she proceeded to apply it anyway.
“You know I can do this, right?”
I received another 'don't be stupid' look for my trouble.
“Keep your hands away from your face, and the makeup.”
She started playing with highlighter and a contouring brush. I couldn't see how it looked exactly, she was blocking the mirror.
“Hmm, I think blush might be a bad idea, you're too vampire like. It'll be noticeable.”
Was she kidding?
“All of this will; it feels like you shoved my face in mud or something.”
She gave me a dirty look, then pointedly applied some blush. When she pulled out the eye shadow and liner, I decided being still and thinking nothing would be a good idea. At least, as rushed as she was, she took great care moving that pencil around my eyes.
A quick touch of the mascara brush and I was done. Without a word, Karen finally moved out of the way.
I'd been expecting a dark brown face with visible powder, and a black goth eye job. Perhaps a raccoon look. What I saw was my face, perhaps just a shade darker, but with my eyes popping from it. My cheekbones showed their edge, and my cupid's bow looked different somehow. Karen broke my vision again before I could decide whether I liked the effect or not, this time to apply a dark glossy lipstick.
“I wish we could do something about your earrings. A good trade out to something different might do you a world of good.”
“I'm not risking it; are we done?”
She grabbed my hands, then my feet.
“Hmm, looks like the nail polish is holding up. Yeah we're done. Time for the dress. Oh and, use the lingerie I set out. Go! Shoo, shoo.”
The nerve, to make shooing motions at me, as if she weren't the one wasting all my time.
The lingerie was the small slinky sheer black stuff with lace. The dress was black, little, and would barely hide the bra. At least lengthwise it would be to mid thigh, so I could sit down without flashing people. If I was careful. The fishnet tights were also sheer. I knew when she picked this out months ago I would eventually get blackmailed or bullied into wearing it. I had just been hoping to be a nice flabby 80 at the time.
I was likely to turn heads worse than my mom in this.
“Come on, get out here, there's no more time!”
The door was all but kicked in, and Karen was well inside my personal space, staring at me.
“Good, you didn't smudge anything. Now let's go, shoes and purse are by the door, get out, you've less than 20 minutes to make it!”
I swear, she spritzed the air with perfume as I went by; I didn't recognize it, but it was a light airy sort of spicy scent that nonetheless clung to me... She would definitely pay for that.
Less than 20 minutes to make a thirty minute drive. This would not end well. Time to cheat, perhaps. The shoes were those stupid three inch heels I had had to practice walking in for hours to make sure I didn't break a leg in them. The purse was a small black one inset with sequins that matched the whole thing. So tonight I was half knockout, half mortician. I still didn't understand the point of putting fragile (and easily ripped off) lines of cheap sequins on a small cloth purse. Perhaps it was to charge more? This thing hadn't been cheap.
I wasn't about to kill myself trying to run in heels, and I was sure Karen would know somehow if I ran in my tights and got them dirty... so it was cheat time.
A little focus, a little drawn will, and as soon as I was out of the apartment (shoes on, and checking to make sure the stuff I needed was in the purse) I dilated time. With time slowed to a mere fraction of what it normally was, I was free to walk carefully down the stairs and to my car. It took 3 seconds.
Now came the tricky part. I couldn't just walk to the cop shop, it was too far away even with time dilated. My car however, was awfully big. Could I even manage this?
Placing my had on the door, it was actually rather easy to extend my own immunity to the dilation field I was generating to the car. I barely broke a metaphorical sweat. Holding the concentration required while driving would be interesting however.
I decided to take the less traveled roads. A mostly immobile set of two cars side by side would ruin the plan after all, and I had time.
It worked; I could weave my car in and out of traffic, blow stop lights, and drive on the wrong side of the road with no consequences. It would take one of those special cameras to even catch on that something was there. If caught I'd admit to it of course; no one told me I couldn't do this. It may be common sense, but today already illustrated that summoners had wiggle room (perhaps too much) to play fast and loose with such things.
The entire drive took seven minutes. By the time I pulled up to the police garage, I was beginning to feel the burn of keeping my dilation field up. The slight headache just beginning to form was a warning of overuse. Still, I had to be careful about this.
I released the field slowly to make sure I wasn't slammed into by a driver/fellow cop not seeing me sort of appear and slamming into me. The slow dial up proved my fears groundless however, though the blue guarding the gate did a pretty comical double take when he looked up to see my car.
I flashed him my badge and put a finger in front of my lips, not quite touching. Then I hit the door signal to the arm (under my steering wheel, looking like a normal garage door opener), and drove by as he gaped. The rear view mirror saw him studiously go back to his reading material, some magazine or another that I wasn't sure I wanted to recognize.
And my assigned parking space was empty, something that wasn't always the case. Charlie liked taking it cause it was closer to the door than his; I didn't normally mind since I never came here after my shift unless dragged kicking and screaming (in fact, this was the first time) but tonight it was clear.
I had a sneaking suspicion the cop gossipy grape vine had struck again. But whatever, I'll deal with it tomorrow. I decided I'd just wait here, in my car. I could walk back out and stand on the street to make it easy for Cords, but that felt a little too much as if I were going to display myself to the world. An idea I wasn't keen on.
I wasn't left waiting long, thankfully. Jut the very moment I found a good song on the radio, lights were flashed into my eyes. I got out to find Cords just stepping out of his Ford focus. The idea that he was a gear head and liked that car amused me.
Then he stepped into his own headlights and I got a good look at him.
He was in a tuxedo, an honest to God white tuxedo with a crimson cummerbund and handkerchief folded neatly in the jacket for color. His hair was even better kept than this morning, and his shoes were so shiny I could see myself.
He cleaned up really nice.
Of course I realized while I had been checking him like a side of beef at the market, he's been doing the same when I came out of it and realized we hadn't spoken for a good thirty seconds. He flushed and spoke first.
“Wow... just, wow. You look amazing. More than amazing.”
I said what I thought as well; at least I was a bit more coherent about it. My, this garage was hot this time of year.
“You clean up well yourself.”
“So... been waiting long?”
“No, not at all. Just parked and settled in when you pulled up.”
He approached and butterflies started multiplying in my stomach. He held his hand out in a chivalrous gesture and while I probably should have been mad, I wasn't.
“Well, shall we go?”
“Yes, let's. It wouldn't do to be late.”
The art was exquisite, if dark. Seeing Bosch next to Grunewold next to Duhrer was a little jarring, but the worth it. The close company was entertaining, Cords seemed to know more about the art, especially the art dealing specifically with demons and Satan, then I had been willing to give him credit for. He always found something to comment on; the lighting, little funny stories involving a few, the issues involved in storing them... I was seeing a side of him I didn't know, and I liked it.
The rest of the company was boring to the point of inducing tears. Case in point: the mayor and his wife. Mayor Zach Bartlet and his wife Sandra were two boring old politicos, well entrenched in the local machine. He had been mayor for the last 20 years, and only a stick of dynamite could move his butt from that chair at this point.
He was an older and heavier man with a fringe of light tan hair mixed with gray that set his mostly bald pate off nicely. He was wearing a suit that looked, if anything, more expensive in cut and cloth than Cord's did. It also looked singularly out of place on him too.
His wife Sandra was an almost emaciated thing, an animate stick in an expensive burgandy dress with a crown of white hair that looked to be covered in plastic she had so much product in it. The rumor was she was the brains to the mayor's bluff demeanor and political acumen.
He was currently eyeing me like I was a hamburger or something. As rotund as he was that was a distinct possibility.
“Ahh, here she is. Hello, Mayor Bartlet, my wife Sandra. So you're the new summoner the chief has been telling me about, right? His praise hardly does your personage justice!”
I couldn't blame Sandra, if I were her I'd look a little sour now too. Though my money was still on the good mayor wanting fry me up than anything else; she had no reason to think I'd want to be the Bugatti Veyron to her Ford Taurus.
The mayor needs work on his pompous routine; who actually still uses 'personage' anymore? Though I guess it was likely better than just blurting out what he was thinking, judging by where his eyes were. I hadn't seen him look at a single painting the entire night; but then again, I hadn't really been watching him like the proverbial hawk.
“I'm Calvin Leonard and this is Maeve Numens, Anti-Demon Task Force. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mayor.”
I wasn't going to start a scene by suggesting I could speak for myself, but I took note of that unseemly breach in decorum later. We weren't a couple (yet) and he had no reason to introduce us both. Unless he knew the mayor from an earlier meeting, but the mayor's face gave no indication of that.
Despite that, the two were soon chatting like old friends; from what I could tell, about basketball teams and stats. The mayor was a huge fan of Wilt Chamberlain, it seems. Sandra attempted to make a little small talk in my direction, eying the same assets her husband was but with for a different reason. At least I hoped it was. Her first verbal salvo showed what she thought of the night's entertainment – and showed more of her personality than she knew.
“So, are you as bored as I am?”
“Actually I'm not bored at all. I wanted to come here to see the art; I find the subject matter fascinating.”
She muttered 'of course you do' under her breath, which I caught clearly. She hadn't intended that of course, but my senses were really good. Possibly better than normal good; I had no real comparison to make there, my memory on my senses was spotty at best. I thought they might be better, but it was really hard for me to say. I continued on, letting her know I'd heard her.
“I wanted to see this exhibit when it started it's tour, before I was drafted. Renaissance painting has always been an interest of mine, and the use of chiaroscuro in paintings depicting evil is something special. The effect of such bold contrast conveys the hint of light among the dark, or dark among the light, as it were.”
It took her a second to close her mouth. She probably didn't even know what I was referring to. For all that the mayor stumped for the paintings making their way here, it wasn't too likely that he knew either. Kind of sad really, I half suspected that Sandra was the reason for all the political arm twisting to bring the exhibit here. Seems I was mistaken.
Which begged the question and raised a minor mystery; perhaps it had just been a financial decision? But this city was hardly a mecca for the arts, would the profit and tourism outweigh the costs of bringing it here? It would be close, but I felt no. Perhaps it was for political points?
Or perhaps the pressure to bring the exhibit here came from someone else?
There as the general, after all, and the wiki on him pegged him as a lover of Renaissance art. And he had much more pull than the mayor. Heck, he probably had as much as a retired president. The Europeans loved him. Something I didn't understand really, because while he was powerful, under his watch we were still losing. Maybe it was because we were losing slower?
I felt almost obligated to go and say hello; it would likely be more interesting than listening to the blather I was currently tuning out. But I was a fresh from training officer, or close enough, and that was a general. It just wasn't done. A shame really; I didn't recognize the people he was talking to, but I could bet they weren't as annoying.
“ …and so Hanzel said 'if you want to run out there and take a look, you be my guest, but I won't help clean up what's left of you.'”
Yep, pretty annoying. She was actually talking taking to the streets during the alert to try and see the demon. Apparently she has a heart condition, and was at the Pharmacy picking up her prescription. And she wanted to see the demon that slaughtered a good 20 or so people... with a heart condition.
And she had kids. Her genes were already passed on. The mind boggles.
“It was for the best that you didn't. That particular demon was a heavy combat type of imp. It was rather difficult to take down.”
I felt bad for lying... but maybe the lie would keep her from being stupid in the future. Then again, that gleam in her eye looked most unhealthy.
“Really? Did it... injure anyone from the ADTF?”
Now what the hell sort of question was that? What she was really asking was if it killed any of us.
“No, I handled it. There were no casualties of any kind on our side.”
“Oh, you were the one?”
“I was. Cal, can we move on? I want to see the Sadeler pieces in the next room. It was wonderful meeting you both.”
“Yes, it was wonderful meeting you Mr. Mayor, Mrs. mayor.”
He let himself be dragged along with a final wave and I took him about as far from the main area as I could, into a darker underused part of the museum. I really did want to see those Sadelers, but more than that I wanted to get away from all the smarm.
“So what was that, exactly? You didn't want to schmooze?”
I shook my head, but had to grin. That painting depicting a fat Satan was mildly humorous. The whimsy mixed in with the evil was very well done.
“I don't have anything in common with those people. Sandra was... well she made me want to hit her.”
“More in common than you think.”
Something he saw in the look I gave him made him backpedal fast. Which of course meant he was reading the expression right.
“No, no, not like that. I meant you're all three very charismatic. Did I mention you're beautiful when you're angry?”
“No, but that doesn't let you off the hook. You really think I'm charismatic?”
“A natural born leader, and without even trying. I for one, would follow you anywhere.”
OK I had to admit, that was kind of sweet.
“At any rate, I wasn't kidding when I said I wanted to see the entire thing. Something I can't do while hobnobbing.”
And I was a simple type, I didn't really fit in with the elites. At least, I hoped I didn't.
“Well despite the mean look the curators gave me, my uncouth self saved your plate for you when you ran off.”
What? Sure there was a buffet there with what had to be some pretty expensive finger foods, but I hadn't made a plate. I hadn't been hungry.
“I hadn't had time to hit the buffet. When did you...?”
“When Sandra was talking your ear off, the mayor and I went for a snack. I brought you back a little. Truthfully, I'm thinking of going back there and getting a takeout sack... the shrimp puffs are divine.”
The small plate he handed me was white and at least half bowl. There were no shrimp puffs in it. Instead there were some sort of berry. There were six of them, and nothing else. They looked almost like grapes.
“They are called Jabuticaba. They are rare type of fruit from South America. I had a few to try them out. They are exquisite.”
“They sound expensive.”
I tried one. It tasted like a rather tart grape... only more. Much more. It was much like eating one of those gushing candies, only it seemed to have more juice in it, and it seemed to be more refreshing. Before I knew it they were gone. Cords looked amused and handed me a napkin.
“You have berry on your lips.”
I dabbed.
“Well they taste expensive. I'll have to look for more of them or something.”
“I would guess they are quite expensive to import, judging by that spread. My guess is you won't find them at the local grocery. I'm told they make a decent wine; we might be able to find that.”
I handed the plate/bowl back to him as I asked:
“We?”
I certainly had no intention of sharing. Those berries had been amazing. He looked more amused than shocked.
“Oh come on, you can share a little!”
“Nope, you'll have to buy your own... that is if I don't get there first.”
I handed the napkin back for good measure too.
“Hows my lipstick?”
“A wonderful shade that you wear well.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“I meant, did I smudge it?”
“Oh! Hmmm....”
He looked closer.
“Nope, you're good to go back and mingle any time you want to.”
“Which will, of course, be never. Come on, one last room to see.”
He waved and headed back to the lobby.
“I'll catch up, I need to get rid of this trash... and maybe check to see if there are any more berries?”
I grinned.
“Well I won't say no.”
The last room was filled with the work of Jacopo Tintoretto. Some of the subject matter in the paintings weren't exactly pertinent, like “Leda and the Swan,” but his “The Descent into Hell” was as great a piece of art from the period as one could see. It easily rivaled the works of Michelangelo and Rapheal, at least in my opinion.
“Breathtaking, isn't it?”
I was in mid nod when I finally recognized the voice. It was my mother.
Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of course she would be here, she was every bit the social butterfly Mrs Bartlet was, and this would be the perfect occasion. A look showed I was flanked; Mom on one side, Dad on the other.
“Mother. Dad.”
“Hi honey!”
Mom was entirely too chipper; either she had forgotten the entire argument we had where I pumped for the truth... or she was ignoring it. My money was on forgetting personally, but it could be either. Dan on the other hand, was more chained to earth, though he looked like he wanted to be smoking like a chimney. He did have a drink in his hand, so that was something.
“Maeve.”
My flake of a mother pointed once again to “The Descent into Hell” again, this time overbalancing and almost touching it, before dad snagged her by the back of her sparkly silver dress and again brought her upright. I wondered if her dress had been engineered for such stresses on purpose; mine would have ripped.
And worse, as crazy as she is, she looked as stunning as ever, and a small part of me hated and resented her for that. I quickly squashed that part of myself as best I could, though it left me wondering how screwed up I really was.
“You shouldn't try to touch the paintings mother.”
“Ahh, but I wasn't! I have trouble balancing sometimes. I'm kind of top heavy.”
I was pretty sure the part of my myself I'd just ground into metaphorical dust would be howling at the comment. But it got worse. Oh boy. I'd forgotten the rule... around my mother, it could always get worse. She grabbed me with a big hug, groping me right then and there.
“It seems to be something we share! How about you honey, any problems balancing?”
With Dad's help I managed to fend her off. Luckily before anyone arrived in the deserted room and spotted us.
“No Mother, no problems balancing. At least not after the first few days.”
Hey wait a minute. Her klutziness could be explained by that possibly... if she never got the idea of managing a lower center of gravity.
Or was prevented from doing so.
I would have to ask Grex later tonight. And if he had done that, maybe I could get him to undo it. But if I could should I bother? I mean it might lead to him screwing her up in some other way. Or even worse, now I needed to ask what other ways he screwed her up. It might be that he told me the truth about Mom when I asked, but did he really tell me all of it?
“Something on your mind, Maeve?”
Dad looked pretty concerned. I guess the females of our family did not have a good track record historically. And he was always good at reading me. Not that I was hard to read; according to Karen I was an open book.
“Just a few questions for a certain thing of our mutual acquaintance, when I get a chance. So, you enjoying the exhibit?”
He shrugged while Mom shook her head yes so violently that she would have fallen, save for Dad's arm around her.
“It's not really my thing, but even I can tell the paintings are well done.”
“Some of the best ever done. Straight from Italy, when Italy was the center of the western world.”
He grinned a little sourly and slugged his drink back before he gave his laconic reply.
“Yeah them and Greece. Third world countries now.”
“Yes, but they had good runs and great art while they lasted.”
I couldn't help but feel obliged to point that out. Mom nodding along enthusiastically with my point didn't help my peace of mind any.
“Alright, they were out of the Jabuticaba, but they had some Strawberries and cream so I got you those. Oh and a glass of this wonderful Merlot which I couldn't see the name of, but is probably worth more than a day's wages.”
And Cords was back, materializing at my side as if he hadn't crossed the intervening space. I was going to have to put a bell on him or something; even though the carpeting wad pretty plush. Anyone really could sneak around I guess.
Who would want to carpet up a museum anyway? I personally would want to hear potential thieves coming. The cleaning bill must be enormous. Cords sidled up to my elbow and handed me another plate/bowl, filled with Strawberries and the wine.
“Thank you.”
Uh oh. Mom was looking between us, first at Cords, then me, then cords, then me, as if watching a tennis match. I could see the ear to ear grin bloom in slow motion on her face. She was going to do something embarrassing.
“Dad, Mom, this is Cords. Cords, my Mom and Dad.”
The introduction would stall her I hope. If I was lucky she'd lose track entirely of what she was about to do.
“Pleased to meet you detective Numens, Mrs. Numens.”
Dad knew my mom like no one else. He attempted to stave off the apocalypse by striking first, as I had. He held out a hand.
“Cords, Cords... the tech and communications expert for the ADTF day shift?”
“The very same.”
They shook.
“We've met before.”
Whatever Dad was going to say next was interrupted by the embarrassment bomb. This time it was only two meaning laden words.
“Grand babies.”
Oh damn it.
Cords went white, and I'm sure I was a human tomato. I was very proud of how calm my voice was.
“Mother, it's far too early to be thinking of such things. This is the first time.”
“The first time you two have been on a date?”
I shook my head.
“The first time I've been on a date like this, ever.”
She openly gawked in what could only be a deigned manner, not that an outsider would know.
“Really? But it's been six months! That's almost a lifetime!”
I could actually understand what she meant by that. Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you may die.
“Well I'm a slow starter I guess... just like my Mom. Right, mother?”
A pointed glance at Dad and even she could get what I meant.
“Um, right. So I guess we have to wait.”
I nodded as graciously as I could. She was so darn trying, sometimes. Even if I wasn't still mad at her – which I was.
“Yep; at least until after my first tour.”
Mom hadn't even looked at another person in any sexual manner until she finished her first tour. Unless of course, she lied to me. Or maybe Dad hadn't been her first. Ugh, this was something no kid wanted to think about... their parent's sex lives.
Oh well, I'd seen all I wanted to here. I'd even had a snack, and good wine. While this was a nice night, I was feeling a little restless, and I was more than willing to go. A subtle hint at Cords would undoubtedly help.
“Calvin.”
“Yes, Maeve?”
“Have you seen everything you wanted? This was the last one for me.”
Alright, so I sucked at subtle.
“Yes, I've seen all the masterpieces I could ever want tonight.”
Innuendo perhaps? It sort of felt like it, though it didn't come across as smarmy or fake. His face was completely serious, and his eyes seemed to drink my form in as if it were the wine we had. His eyes didn't wander a milometer, save up and down.
It was flattering, in a way. I wondered if the Numen family tended to attract eccentric devoted personalities. Dad's eyes had never wandered either, no matter how crazy mom got. I should only be so lucky as to find the same. Though I wasn't sure I was ready to live the old adage about being attracted to one's parents.
“So I take it you're ready to go?”
“I am, if you're good to drive.”
“I only had a small glass of wine. I'm stone cold sober and very good to drive.”
He took my arm in his in genteel fashion, and led me out into the crowd again. We strode past them as a king and queen, and he held the door for me on the way out. I caught my parents watching me from the corner of my eye.
I also saw the general doing the same, in a frank manner. He wasn't even trying to hide his interest.
“OK, that was creepy.”
Cords was once again at my shoulder and we were safely through.
“What was?”
“Did you see the general?”
He shook his head.
“The old man in the uniform? You really didn't see him?”
“I had other more interesting things to look at.”
And there it was again.
“Well he agreed with you apparently; he was staring at us on the way out. The entire time out.”
“Well you are one of the Summoners under his command.”
I agreed, but disagreed.
“I'm only one of many. I wasn't even the only summoner there. Jimmy was there, and so was Silas. Heck, he knows my Mom, and she was there. Plenty of other people to express interest in.”
“Maybe, but you're the only active Numens summoner. You're family is kind of big deal.”
I didn't get that; how did everyone know the entire history of my family but me? Was there more to it? More summoners from our family that helped in the war that I don't know about?
“How so? I thought it was just me and my mother.”
“Well it's not really my place to say, but supposedly your grandma was a pretty astute Summoner as well. That's the rumor anyway. For some reason the file on your family is classified.”
Well, I was pretty sure I knew the answer for why that was. The contracts for both myself and my mother would easily be classified, just on the realization that a specific demon was stalking our family. There had to be a reason for that. Hmm, another thing to ask Grex. That list was getting quite big. Still drowning under the ocean of things I did not know, in a game when everything I didn't know could kill me.
Cord's opened his car door and helped me inside; I was rather grateful, because when sitting back at least I was as graceful as a walrus in these stupid shoes. Any more heel to them and I'd be snapping my fool neck and ending my career easily enough.
“I wish I'd have met you at your place. That way you wouldn't need to drive home, I'd just do it for you.”
“I appreciate the thought, but I'm quite capable.”
He favored me with a haughty grin.
“Yes, but it's the more genteel option.”
I thought genteel before, but he actually used the word, as if he were trying to be a gentleman. Come to think of it, for tonight at least, he had been less 'working stiff' and more high society. Not completely, but it was clear he was trying. Not really having anything to say I stayed quiet. That restlessness was growing stronger; I felt the urge to do something, anything, as long as it was active.
Traffic was light and we flowed through it easily. Before I could fully shake my distraction we were back at the police garage. Cords pulled up behind my car, and put his car in park. I think my mood was sensed, as nothing was said. Even the radio was off, leaving us in blessed silence.
Before I could really ponder what I was doing, or question it, I leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Thank you, I had a nice time.”
He looked more dazed than that Jay guy, in that movie. Then my brain caught up, and I flung myself out of the car towards mine. I only barely made out his answer as I dove through the door of it, Heels be damned.
“Sure, no problem, anytime.”
Irrational or not, I locked my car door before I started it up. Just what had gotten into me? Why had I done that? Was it even the proper thing to do, or not?
I looked up and Cords was gone.
Without further ado I backed up and left myself. I wanted nothing more than to just turn the siren on and speed somewhere, anywhere. Maybe I could play tag with traffic. Abuse my Summoner status and penchant for being crazy, like every other Summoner did. Like I had earlier this evening, just to avoid being late for a date.
There was without any doubt, something wrong with me.
I obeyed the speed limit. Of that I am proud. I couldn't quite stop my own weaving among the traffic, just for something to do. It was activity, and I needed that. If not for the fact that I would want my car tomorrow, I'd have just jogged all the way home, dress and all. Heck, heels and all.
Pulling into the apartment lot I realized my skin felt itchy. It also felt rebellious, as if it were crawling it's way off my frame. The air was chilled, but I felt none of it. If anything, I was too warm. Could summoners get sick? More to the point, could I get sick? I was under the impression that I could not.
But I certainly seemed to be coming down with a fever; all the signs were there.
Once in the lobby I removed my shoes. The carpeting was clean enough to not worry about my stockings, and I wanted speed. I didn't even bother with the elevator, taking the stairs two at a time as much as I possibly could with the dress hampering my efforts.
By the time I reached my door my head was buzzing, and my nerves were tingling. I couldn't find the keys in my smallish purse, so I just decided to use a minor spell to open the door. My control was as bad as it had ever been... I almost blew the knob off. I didn't even bother closing it before I summoned Grex.
“Grex, veni huc!”
His embrace was actually cool against my skin. I couldn't help but ag into it.
“Mistress, you aren't well. “
“No crap. Something is wrong.”
He was both gentle and stern as he helped me through the apartment to my wonderful comfy bed.
“Yes, what did you do?”
Was he blaming me for this?
“What do you mean, what did I do? I just feel like crap.”
He glared at me. Actually glared! How dare he! This demonic scum that ruined my life, and that of my family... even sick, I could glare back.
“Yes, your power is out of control; beyond even that of the earrings to suppress. The only way that could happen is if you removed one, or used a massive amount of power, drawing enough power past the earring's abilities to suppress. Instead of a gradual increase, we have power responding to an increased potential for it's use and flooding you.”
I winced as my head seemed to fill with cotton; an unpleasant but strangely odd feeling.
“So how bad is it?”
I shifted to a more comfortable position as Grex brushed my hair from my eyes, peering into them.
“Not bad at all; it won't be fatal, and it won't hurt you at all... you just need a few hours to regain equilibrium. Oh, and another set of earrings.”
Great, more holes in my ears. With another set added, that would be 4 per ear. Eight pure silver rings total, each inscribe with glyphs meant to limit my power. I wasn't entirely sure why I needed them anymore, but that was just another question to add to the list at this point.
“So, my wonderful mistress, what did you do to ruin all my wonderful calculations regarding safe use of your abilities?”
I almost didn't feel like telling him. But maybe honesty would actually be returned this time. First time for everything.
“Used my time dilation field and extended it around my car, so I wouldn't be late.”
His eyes widened in what could only be genuine shock.
“You engaged your most powerful magicks... around the entire surface of a large sedan... and all to avoid being a few minutes LATE FOR A DATE?!?”
Sheesh he could be loud.
“Yes?”
The language he was using wasn't something known to me, but I could make reasonable guesses as to what he was saying.
“Hey, I don't want to hear it from you. I'm allowed to indulge a little, if I feel the need. It's my power, I sold my soul for it, and I'll use it how I want.”
After all, I hadn't been hurting anyone, and regardless what I used the power for, I would pay later. Whenever I died, to be precise. He ran a hand through his feathery hair, clearly exasperated.
“You know what mistress? You are absolutely correct. Forgive me for speaking out of turn. But use your power too much and you will attract the wrong type of attention. I worry for you, and you are making my job of protecting you much harder.”
How so? Were demons going to hunt me?
“Are demons going to be attracted to me now? And if so, won't that make my own job easier?”
“Yes, some demons will come hunting you... among other things. And yes, that is likely to make your own job easier, if you survive.”
Now I was curious; this was his first mention of something else. I'd seen no evidence in our lore of anything else.
“Like what other things?”
He smirked at me.
“You thought demons were the only plague to humanity? Silly mistress. Much more in heaven and earth, than in your philosophy.”
Grex was an ass. But he had been around since the beginning of... well everything, so I had to assume he knew what he was talking about. He tucked me in.
“Sleep for now, my mistress, then you may ask me all the questions you desire. Water under the bridge as you humans say, there is still plenty of time to learn everything you need to know.”
I didn't want to sleep. I wanted to learn, to know, to be doing something. Anything at all. And then suddenly I was bone weary, and wanted to sleep. I wanted to ask Grex if he had done anything to make me sleep, but the words wouldn't form. I fought it, but in vain.
I was dreaming. I had to be. I was still in my bed, but it had come with me to a rather pleasant grassy glade flanked on all sides by broken pillars. The dream was exceptionally real; I could smell wildflowers and ash carried on the breeze kissing my face and matting down the grass, and feel this maddening itch in my brain and back.
I was still in my date dress, lying atop my sheets. Grex was sitting beside me.
And true to form for super realistic dreams, I was more intelligent than normal.
“....Wuh?”
“Be at ease, my mistress. You are safe. Just lie back and relax.”
“Where are we?”
“Hell, of course. Sometimes demons dream. Sometimes they dream of what is, and what will be. Sometimes, they even dream of what should be. And you, my beloved mistress, can call to me in your dreams.”
He waved at me.
“Hello.”
Jerk.
Said jerk decided to lay hands on my fire ant bitten back, and started massaging ever so gently. Warmth flowed from his hands, and the itch lessened. It felt wonderful, and I really should have been alarmed by the ripping sounds, but I wasn't. I mean, yes dreams could be significant, but they were still dreams.
A few more moments and I felt something tear free, the itching stopped and my nerve endings lit up in bliss. The tearing hadn't concerned me, but the feel of something attached to me flopping around managed to peak my interest. It seems that in this dream, I had wings.
They were like Grex's, but not. Grex had raven wings, black as pitch. Mine were a dove gray, and salt and peppered with a stray black or milk white feather here and there. They were also wet and uncoordinated, as if I were a baby bird.
I wanted to get up, but Grex had a hand on my back, forcing my face into my soft pillows.
“Calmly. My mistress. I will take care of you.”
I was able to watch from the corner of my eye while he dragged the long fingers of his hand through my left wing. The dry air felt wonderful worked between my feathers.
“What are you doing?”
“Preening you. If I do not, your wings will irritate you, eventually.”
For long moments we worked on my left wing, then switched to my right when it dried. I tried to bask in my brain fog. Too much drink, again, I supposed. Or maybe those weird nuts were making me hallucinate. I almost fell asleep again before he was done. Can someone fall asleep in a dream?
After he had moved each individual feather, the pressure on my back disappeared, and he offered me a hand up. All bemused, I took it. Managing to keep my new appendages out of the grass and dust was easy, almost second nature. I just had to keep them flexed a certain way, like how you would flex an arm to make sure it didn't rest at your side when you ran or something.
It felt weird, but at the same time perfectly normal. A glance as Grex kept me upright revealed I was even angling my wings the way he did. The grass was like a soft carpet, and I could hear birdsong in the distance. There were no other sounds close to me but what we made.
Grex led me out of the small glade and of all places, to a winding trail leading down; the trees were larger than I expected; I was seeing the very tips of them before. Like redwoods they reached down to the depths beyond, so far I couldn't see the ground. They weren't redwoods though; they were darker colored and with strange bark.
The trail was well kept, and wove down around a spire that was too uniform to be natural, but bore no tool marks my casual inspection could uncover. The equally well kept trail wound around it like a lazy staircase, marking the spire as not much wider than the grove itself. It made no sense, much like the fact that we both had wings and yet weren't flying. I wanted to fly.
“I know what you're thinking. And you aren't ready yet. But soon, we can fly. For now we simply walk and take in the sights.”
“Where are we?”
A gentle laugh and he replied.
“Purgatory, of course. Your demesne and home away from home. How do you feel?”
I thought about that, and it seemed to take several steps.
“Powerful, but fuzzy headed. Like I had too much wine or something.”
Grex Grinned his usual grin at my discomfort.
“Drunk on power, no doubt. You pulled too much power tonight, so I am taking steps to correct the imbalance you made in yourself.”
“Dream steps?”
He nodded.
“Dream steps, among others. I swear nothing I am doing will harm you or lead to harm.”
Something about that seemed off.
“How would me being here help?”
“You have a connection to this realm, same as we all do. It is not the source of your power, at least, not completely. But if you are wounded or imbalanced, you may come here; if you are wounded, you will heal. If you are imbalanced, you will be able to release the power drawn into the realm itself. Or you will be able to draw upon the realm itself to empower you, should you need it. You simply have to be present for it, either in waking or in dreams.”
Made sense. Now that I knew, I could focus on it and feel the little droplets in the ocean of power trying to make my head explode simply drift into the environment itself. I knew somehow, that my existence was an anchor for the realm itself.
“So that's why I have wings? Here I count as a lord of Hell? The ruler of Purgatory?”
“Correct.”
So this dream had some connection with reality, or at least the version of reality I was familiar with. The real question was how much? If I could decompress here, if my power were part of the place (as it seemed), then some connection had to exist. Or maybe I was simply dreaming it all as Grex used some other method to do this. I didn't think so however; this all felt too natural, and I knew my imagination wasn't this good.
So how much of it was real?
“And the surroundings? I expected more fire and brimstone and screaming.”
He scoffed.
“Please; I know you've read the more classical sources; After all, I helped you translate them. You know as well as I do that purgatory is a home for the not quite truly damned. Those who did not have the chance to worship God through circumstance, those who are damned through the actions of others, to name only two types of groups.”
“So... Aristotle is here?”
Grex grinned and shrugged his wings; a curious gesture.
“He's around. Would you like to see him?”
I shook my head slowly, taking careful note of how badly it wanted to fly apart. That desire on it's part seemed to be lessening.
“No. I'd be tempted to punch him if I did. He always struck me as a pretentious type. Maybe later.”
“Hmmm. Perhaps another then. I'm sure we can find someone to amuse you while you recover. Or perhaps not. I feel as if a nice silent walk through the realm you now rule will be more therapeutic for you.”
I wasn't in the mood to meet some famous damned from history, even if they were a figment of my imagination. Or maybe because they may not be; at least not entirely.
“So again, no fire? No brimstone?”
“Further down. Purgatory is a home for those that are not damned, yet do not meet the requirements to go to heaven. As such, save for a few notable exceptions, it could pass for a location on Earth itself. I'd be lying to you if I said it was all sunshine and happy feelings, however. In time you will see it all.”
“So how does one rehabilitate in purgatory?”
This could be a handy thing to know for both myself and my mom later, provided I could get him to tell the truth on it. The key would be to act nonchalant about it.
“Worried about your future, are you?”
Of course he saw right through me somehow. His grin widened at whatever expression he saw on my face; I would guess at panic, but who knows? Then in his way, he cut right through it.
“Well don't. This is your future, as well as your father's. You both belong to us and only us.”
I noticed my mother wasn't in there; her betrayal was, of course, too much. She was destined to for greater and more horrific things further down. I was at least a little happy that he didn't even try to sugar coat it for me, though I would have been happier knowing no one held the lean on my mother's soul.
I'd ask him who had the lean, eventually. Once my time got short I might try and see what they wanted for it. Of course the typical answer would be more than I could pay, but while I still had access to my time powers something could be arranged.
Tinkering with time might be right up the alley of acts that get me damned worse, however; it would be just like demons to catch my soul coming or going.
The tree lined spire eventually reached the ground, and we entered a pleasant forest. There was no more grass, but instead some kind of scrub brush mixed with sticks and other miscellaneous crap; just like a real forest. The breeze could still be felt faintly, but was mixed with some sort of scent I couldn't identify, but struck me as plant-like. From the trees, perhaps?
Problem was, my feet were still bare.
Some of the crap littered around looked sharp. I gave Grex the raised eyebrow and he smirked; bits of vines or branches wove themselves into sandals right in front of me. I raised both eyebrows this time, but stepped right into them; they were surprisingly comfortable, like everything else around here. His own feet were covered by his customary gleaming black dress shoes, which oddly enough made good sound here.
“I need to learn that trick.”
“I will teach you tomorrow if you'd like.”
“I would, if I have the time; not sure I won't be busy.”
Silently he conceded the point. I had to ask.
“So, are we headed anywhere in particular?”
He shook his head.
“Just a tour. I thought we'd take a walk through the forest as far as the river Lethe, and watch the fools as they try to cross.”
Hmm, an important question sprang to mind.
“Cross away from us, or cross towards us?”
“Try to cross to us, of course. The next realm over is far less accommodating than here. It's endlessly amusing, really. Kind of like your illegal immigrants crossing the Rio-Grande from Mexico, but far worse.”
“Worse? Do any of them make it?”
He shook his head with glee as he helped me over a particularly rough patch of brush; my wings were throwing my balance off.
“Not a one. Still, it is amusing to watch them try and escape their fate.”
Whether it was the dream, or the corruption caused by summoning and hanging out with demons and using their magic, I had to admit that it did sound a little amusing to watch people who damned themselves try and escape their punishment for such. I really had become a horrible person.
We walked in a kind of silence; there was birdsong I couldn't recognize, mixed in with the inevitable crows. Things small and large stirred in the undergrowth and in the distance, but hid or fled before I could get a glimpse. Though I thought I heard a squirrel's laughing chitter.
But there wasn't another single solitary soul around. I could sense we were alone, Grex and I, through some sense or feeling that just was. Which was a little odd. Where were all the souls damned through lack of knowledge? Surely I had subjects as the de facto ruler here?
“Where is everyone?”
“Away from here. This is your forest, my mistress. None may enter it without your permission on pain of your wrath.”
“And if I don't have any wrath?”
“Then you won't have any wildlife to hunt. And that would be a shame.”
In hell, meats are not pre-processed. Good to know. Life here, or afterlife as it were, would definitely suck here. I really didn't want to think about the lack of television or internet. And yet, if that was the only thing I had to worry about, then it would be better than the alternative.
There was sun, and it was setting by the time we made it to the shore of the river. There was even a sandy beach here, with cliffs to either side; I smelled a destination plan on Grex's part here.
Perhaps the two reclining deck chairs made of vines from the forest we just left and sitting in full view of the pleasantly warm sun were a clue. Or perhaps the table with two beers, some micro brew unless I missed my guess, sitting between them. I took the right handed seat, sinking into it easily; it somehow moved to accommodate my wings and keep them from dragging in the dirt. The beer was ice cold and a type I'd only had once, on the base. It was strong and delicious, especially when chilled.
Grex's smirk was insufferable as he sat beside me and grabbed his own.
Both chairs faced the river, and I could see across it. The view would never make this property desirable. The land across from us was cracked and dusty, bleeding salt and sulfurous vapors. It looked like a desert, oddly enough, or a badlands since there was no sand. The land was overcast and somehow looked cold to me, or gave me the impression of a permanent chill. Everything about it felt somehow wrong... and yet like where we were, there was a rightness to it.
Very confusing, to say the least.
A long pull later and my beer was still full; what felt like an hour in the sun later, and it was still cold. I could like this dream land. I readjusted my wings on the slats that were gently cupping them and focused on the warmth I was getting, which was pretty much like the sun I was used to and not oppressive at all.
And then it all went... well, to itself.
I saw him for some distance; a solitary figure traversing the indistinct haze from the other side. Soon enough the figure resolved itself into a man. A very desperate man, coated in blood and nothing else. He was running, flat out and with almost no attention paid to anything in front of him, cutting his feet and occasionally face upon the jagged rocks. Instead he looked behind him often, as if he were being chased. And he probably was.
The closer he drew himself, the more I could make out. Desperation and fear seemed ingrained in his every movement and line; resignation seemed inset in his face. I could almost feel the hopelessness, even though I could feel or hear nothing from across the burbling river itself before.
And from the distance came a few more people, looking much the same as the first. Four more men, and bringing up the rear, one woman. All clothed in their own blood and nothing else, stumbling with fatigue and blind fear, constantly checking behind them.
“Ahh, I was wondering how long it would take. Sit back and watch the show, my mistress.”
The first guy hit the water and didn't even slow down. He started swimming with powerful strokes and wild abandon. Grex was grinning, especially when the man finally looked up, water washing the blood off him. Clearly showing the slowly oozing gashes across his torso and face, he finally saw us. He paused momentarily... then started jerking in the water as something started biting him.
No, not biting him; there were eel things in the water, and they were passing through him. Each time one did, the man seemed to be less. He wasn't alive after all, he was a soul... and the eel or snake things were eating him.
With a fresh burst of panic he started swimming again, the rents in his form widening. This wasn't funny. This wasn't a laughing matter at all. I felt sick. Before I realized it I was out of the chair and closing on the shore. Grex grabbed me, stopping me cold.
“Watch. You cannot help him. He has sealed his fate.”
The man had almost made it to shore when a snake eel as large as a house rose out of the water and swallowed him whole.
But what happened next was far worse.
The four men and woman pulled up, blowing hard but silent breaths as they considered the roiling, churning, eel infested waters. Then with a shared glance, a fear loaded look behind them, and no real hesitation at all, they all jumped in. From the looks of it, two of them couldn't even swim. None of them made it as close as the first guy.
I was actually standing right at the shore; my throat hoarse from the screams. I guess they didn't hear me any better than I heard them. Grex spoke, and I never wanted to punch him more than now.
“You cannot convince them not to try. No matter how you signal them to stay, if they have made it this far, they always jump in.”
“What happens to them? Do they just... stop existing?”
That same infuriating smile.
“Your concern for the damned warms my heart, mistress. No, a soul follows some of your laws of physics; it does not cease, it simply changes form. A careful look at the serpents of Lethe shall reveal the answer.”
I was rather reluctant to get close; understandably so, I thought.
“Go ahead; I've stated before the waters of the river cannot harm you. Nor can it's residents. If you wish to bathe in it, you may find the waters to your liking. Such is the power of a lord or lady of Hell.”
I didn't want to trust him, but by contract he couldn't lie to me or lead me to ruin. So it was perfectly safe. What the hell. My arm was halfway to the water when one of the serpent-eel-snakes flew from it and wrapped around my wrist. I was proud of myself; I had managed to stifle both the scream and the bladder release.
The serpent resembled a snake more than an eel. And on it's head, where a cobra's hood would be on a cobra, was a human face locked in perpetual scream, of agony or horror I couldn't tell. To be honest I didn't want to know.
“Sometimes they eat each other, and through such gain power. It also keeps their numbers from growing overmuch. The large one is actually one of the first serpents born in Lethe; there are a few others here and there. That one is named Disen, and prefers the waters around this beach. He has been here since shortly after the fall itself. Ahh, we have company.”
A large figure loomed in the distance, I could see the horns from here, though not much else. With disgust I couldn't completely hide I threw the serpent thing away from me and back into the water. This close I could feel them in there; all of them. Thousands of corrupt souls whose only desire were the life and memories they now lacked. Pure unnatural hunger.
I backed off a good ten steps. This wasn't restful anymore.
The shape resolved itself into a 20 foot minotaur... minus any skin. I could clearly see the strangely bloodless muscles play as it moved. The horns on its head were chipped and broken, like the large stone club it carried easily in one hand. Luckily for my sanity, it was at least dressed in a dirty gray loincloth. Oddly enough his voice carried clearly across the lake; the first sounds to do so.
“Did 6 stupid souls try to cross here?”
Grex grinned wider, if anything.
“Yes. You just missed the show.”
The man-beast sighed.
“Great. More souls lost; my boss is going to have my hide! Well, more of it at any rate.”
Then the thing grinned and shrugged.
“Oh well, fewer to watch, at any rate. Have a nice day, lords.”
And he turned and left.
So very lax. So very... slothful. It offended me for some reason. The very land seemed to warp under my gaze. Grex began to look nervous.
“Grex.”
“Yes, my mistress?”
“Is there any way to save souls from such a fate, or transform them back?”
He looked relieved, if anything. I wondered why briefly before I focused on his words.
“There is no way to recover them once they have been transformed. There is no way to remove the effects of the water itself upon the average soul. However, a bridge across the river serves as a successful preventative. We have two already in place for the use of our own. At least, those demons that work for you that cannot fly. All else cannot cross, by order of the big boss himself.”
So to make another bridge or open an existing bridge up would be to buck Lucifer himself. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't justify going to war over this yet; my priority was making sure all of humanity didn't end up here. These souls were already damned, and had done it to themselves; no matter how uncomfortable it made me, they were not a priority over children and other innocents who had not made the choice.
After I made sure Hell was no longer coming to Earth, then I could do something about Hell itself. No pressure, and small easily reached goals in life, and all that.
“Grex.”
“Yes, my mistress?”
“If you are ever as lax about your duties as that guy that just left... I'll make sure you look worse, if it's the last thing I do. Such sloth offends me.”
I wasn't sure why it did, but it did. I knew without a doubt that if I could I'd make good on the threat. He smirked briefly but then schooled his features to show nothing and bowed low.
“I will not. Truthfully, on my contract, I cannot. Your will is my law.”
So at least for now I was as safe in his hands as anyone could be.
“Good, this is no longer restful. Did you have something else we needed to do?”
His gaze had actual pressure for a moment; another mystery for me to file away.
“I think you are fine now; the rest at home appears to have done wonders for you.”
I checked myself. He was right, there seemed to be no imbalance at all; my head had cleared more than a little and I no longer felt like I could simply explode at any time. The internal reservoir of power I possessed did seem to be larger overall, however.
“You're going to have to show me how to check someone else too Grex; seems like a very useful power to have.”
“I'll see what I can do. It's not an ability which can be used on everyone, however. But for now, it is well past time to return. Shall we go?”
Well since the alternative was staying here forever and watching things like what I just saw....
“Yes, let's. This place is dead.”
The odd thing was the walk back to the spire was more soothing than the walk out had been; Grex hadn't been planning to trap me here for my own safety, somehow. Which meant he had in fact just been meaning this to be a restful interlude? A dream, and not a nightmare?
How much of this dream was real, and how much was an uncomfortable parallel to my own real life situation. I really needed to talk to a shrink or something. Too bad the Summoner shrink is even more crazy than I am. I could try a normal shrink, but somehow I doubted that would work out well. This dream alone and what it meant might well drive him or her nuts.
And then as if to drive everything home, like a big middle finger in the mind, I saw it.
It was a bit of the local wildlife, finally glimpsed through the mammoth trees. It was supposed to be a deer... I think. It looked like a deer; but everything about it was slightly wrong somehow. The proportions, the gait, the face... all slightly off somehow. Even the antlers seemed off, spiraling more than I remembered a deers antlers doing. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was very disturbing. I blew a breath in relief when it bounded off.
“Your deer, mistress. Very tasty.”
I keenly felt the press of time, collapsing on my growing curiosity.
“Some other time, perhaps.”
“You're right mistress, morning approaches.”
Wait, morning? I felt as if I'd been here for hours. Oh. Oh, I'm such an idiot. I have been here for hours. Grex and I both can dilate time; Grex is much better at it than I am. So it makes sense that nearly a day dreaming here was only a few hours there. So time dilation could affect dreams, or Grex could make it appear so... good to know. A power like that could be very handy; more than most would suspect I bet. Far too many people just focused on blasting things.
The walk up the spire was far more maddening than the walk down. The winds above the tree line had picked up, and threatened to smash us against the smooth rock itself, or pick us up by our folded wings and sweep us away, to our deaths. Grex stood between me and the outer edge, making sure neither fate occurred with a solicitousness that seemed out of place here.
Once again at the heights and with no headache to distract me, I looked around to enjoy the view. And there, at the end of my range, I saw it. What could only be another rock spire above the trees like the one we were on. And in the opposite direction, yet another.
I was looking at watch towers. My bed had been moved or carried or teleported onto a watch tower; one of a series. A watch tower that wasn't being used. I hadn't seen another demon either on the ground or in the air. So why did such a watch tower exist? Surely people weren't trying to escape this place for the shit-hole I saw across the river? Or even the worse places farther on?
Yet another thing to ask. But for now, I was suddenly tired. How I was tired in a dream I didn't know, but I was. Perhaps too much time in REM sleep or something. I sank into my bed with a grateful sigh, ignoring Grex's smirk. A moment of strange sensation as my new wings flopped down beside me, and I was once again in fully folded into the blessed, comforting darkness.
I woke up rested, with a clear head. I felt great except my ears were burning. A hand to each ear revealed that my earrings were hot; if they were flat I could likely fry my morning eggs on them. There also seemed to be two more than I had last night – one more per ear. If this kept up, I wouldn't have any open ear left.
At least it wasn't an infection. The bathroom mirror revealed no puss, and there wasn't any smoke. My ears didn't seem to be in any danger of frying or falling off; and my fingers didn't burn, but I needed some ice.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed some from the freezer; the sizzle as the ice melted alarmed me.
“Grex, Veni huc!”
Instead of hugging me as usual, he went straight for my ears.
“Ah. Still a touch too much power left over. Fear not my Mistress, I can assist you.”
I could feel his touch drain flows of power from me; just enough to be noticeable. The earrings cooled quickly.
“I thought our little trip into dreamland was supposed to solve that problem? Make a good breakfast now, please.”
Grex smiled as he got started. I may have felt refreshed, but Grex was hiding things, so he got to do it.
“It did; after all, the earrings didn't explode.”
They could do that?
“And the new set?”
Grex broke the eggs over the skillet like an expert; leaving no shell pieces in them which was something I couldn't do.
“Necessary, of course. Remember, I cannot do anything to hurt you: to the contrary I must help you survive to the best of my rather prodigious ability. The new jewelry is a must to protect you. Two new holes in your ears a small price to pay for continued life.”
Eggs set and seasoned, he moved on to coffee. I had to admit the point; and put like that it couldn't be a lie.
“Whatever, I'm going to take a shower.”
I was still in my dress from last night after all. It and I had to be dirty. It was halfway undone already though, so it was easy to just step out of. I had the water going and was all set to step into the shower when I noticed something.
I had wings.
Great feathery wings were etched on my back, inked in with some form of prismatic dye; it changed colors in the light somehow, from black to blue depending on how I moved and the light. They were huge; coating the entire surface with the tips reaching my upper butt. There was no way a tattoo parlor with one night could create something like this. I could also swear that I felt them there; which might explain why my back felt warm with my dress half undone.
“GREX!”
I remembered to cover up with a towel just in time.
“Yes mistress?”
Wow, was he... hesitant? From just a yell?
He didn't open the door, preferring to incorporate himself past it like a pernicious smoke.
“Is anything amiss?”
I turned, putting my back to him.
“Pray tell Grex, what exactly is on my back?”
“Ah. Those would be your wings, Mistress.”
This had to be his doing. And I didn't like where this route was taking me; as it stood I was all too likely to attract the wrong types of people, and I didn't need any extra help doing that.
“And just why do I have wings tattooed on my back Grex?”
“The same reason you have new earrings my mistress; You've been to Hell now, and Hell tends to change one. Even if you only visit in dreams.”
Must control fist of death....
“And is there any other tattoos I can look forward to getting?”
He pondered that one for a moment.
“No, my Mistress. You should be quite done on that score. Might I remind you that everything I did last night was for the sole purpose of saving your life? Please stay your admittedly wonderful murderous rage.”
I shifted a bit; I would swear that I felt something odd about my back; as if the wings were actual wings, somehow. But a quick touch to the places I could reach revealed only cool skin.
“Grex.”
“Yes Mistress?”
I couldn't tell if he was anxious I'd punish him, or hoping for it.
“Breakfast is burning. Go see to it, now.”
His eyes widened and then he was gone, without so much as a 'yes, Mistress.' A petty revenge, but good.
The shower was kind of maddening; The water was warm and soothing, but it felt weird hitting my new ink. It was hard to describe. Maybe whatever magical needle used made my skin sensitive. I had seen other summoners with various tattoos, and most of those had been magical in some way. My earlier studies seemed to indicate it could give an edge when in our line of work; spells were stored within them and used at will, instead of using lengthy incantations.
The only drawbacks seemed to be the massive amount of pain involved as rare metals and herbs were worked into the skin, and the tendency of the demons to rip such offensive body parts off. Though if you're that close to a demon that isn't yours, chances are you'd be losing something you'd rather keep anyway.
I didn't see myself going for that sort of magic in the future since was allergic to pain and could already react with that kind of speed such a technique granted... but that didn't mean what was adorning my back wasn't something similar. And done in a night, without pain no less, instead of weeks or months.
I finished up and traipsed out, getting dressed in my bedroom because I forgot to grab clothes. Demon or not, my demon or not, there was no reason to give Grex a free show. My new standard underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt with my robe over it. No one cared what summoners wore under their robes... or even looked that hard, for their own sanity. One of the summoners wore a thong, and only a thong; how he managed it I didn't know or care to know.
Breakfast was waiting for me of course, and with no hint of burns anywhere. Even the skillet was clean. He'd cheated of course.
“Grex.”
“Yes Mistress?”
Oh he was composed again. There was something he wanted to hide here.
“Is the new ink on my back magical? Like the tattoo magic Mortimer uses?”
Mortimer lived a floor down, and if he had any clean skin anywhere on his body, I hadn't seen it.
“Well in a manner of speaking.”
Oh, here we go.
“A manner of speaking? Clarify for me please.”
He didn't even hesitate. Which could mean the truth... or it could mean he's had time to get his story straight.
“They are a physical manifestation of your wings. Mistress. Not a fly spell. You need not focus in the way in which you cast spells. You simply need focus on flight, and remove an earring. The trip to Hell marks everyone in some way; and you are no exception. Your realm decided that a personage befitting your status needed wings.”
What?!? Well he couldn't have timed that reveal better; he was wearing my coffee now.
“It can do that?!?”
“The rulers of Limbo have always had wings... perhaps Limbo decided you needed to as well.”
He wasn't even perturbed by the spit take, just taking the hand towel from the fridge door and wiping it off. I had to ask; I didn't want to, but I had to ask.
“And these are actual physical wings? As in a physical manifestation, with mass and following the laws of physics?”
He refilled my coffee cup as he answered.
“Yes and no. They are part of your contract, and are real enough in Hell. On Earth they will appear as the tattoo you have seen, and will answer your call. At least, provided you at least one earring before trying; perhaps in time you will be able to ignore that limitation. When... unleashed, they are physical wings, with mass and quite fetching really. However they do not follow the laws of physics, as normally they would not be enough to support you. Rather they are an idea of flight given form.”
Well that was clear as mud. When they were there, they were physical, but manifestations of flight?
“Answer me directly Grex. Are these wings physical limbs attached to my back and inhibited by the earrings, or magical manifestations?”
“Physical limbs, of course. As I stated, Hell marks everyone, and you have most beautiful wings, as befitting your status.”
So I grew actual wings. Oh, shit. I wasn't the first summoner finding myself in this situation either; plenty of summoners found the use of demonic power mutating them. but I'd never heard or read about beneficial mutations before, and Grex had told me my wings would work. Beneficial or not, most summoners so marked ended up keeping them after their contract ended; usually until plastic surgery tried to make them normal with mixed results.
“Will they vanish when our contract ends? Am I still human?”
“Your wings will vanish once you no longer rule the 9th circle, yes. And you are as human as you ever were, my dear Mistress.”
I parsed that and breathed a sigh into my fresh coffee. At least I hadn't bothered to ask if I was normal or sane; I knew that was something I left aside a long time ago. Knowing the wings would only last ten years was a great relief though. Or until I was killed. There was that.
I had a morbid streak in the mornings, I think. I was going to have to watch that. I wanted to take out an earring, just to see them, to confirm they were there. And yet again, I didn't. If Grex had determined it was necessary, and was in fact the only choice to make regarding my survival... well he couldn't lie to me on that point. And if he thought giving me a mark like this (or limbs!) and setting me aside in that way was a better option to save my life than any alternative, I had to believe him on that point. Because marking me in that way was very dangerous... and he had to know that.
“Grex, Was I in real danger last night, and if so, was there another way to save my life last night?”
“You were in very real danger of death last night, more than you know and from more sources than you know. There was one other way, but it would have violated my contract with you.”
And there we had it.
“What danger from other sources?”
“I cannot say my Mistress, were I to tell I would be placing you in more danger.”
Probably demons then, somehow. Many of the stronger ones can hear their own names spoken, anywhere on Earth. Supposedly at least. If Grex was taking the threat seriously, then I should too.
“Your own kind?”
He nodded, sipping coffee to cover... distress?
“They would be able to feel your presence.”
The light bulb finally flickered on. Holy crap, that was why! That was why the earrings all along! Because of my contract other demons would be able to sense me without the power inhibited in some way... and the general had known. Karen probably did too. But that didn't explain everything. Grex picked up on my next question.
“Mortal shells are fragile at best, and can ill hold a font of demonic power. The more power such a shell possesses, the more imminent the explosion and greater the radius.”
Well that was... rather horrifying. So it was possible to wish for too much power, in a way. I escaped that fate because of my wording and Grex's desire to torture my mother, I was sure. I wonder how many didn't, and ended up painting the walls. Probably a significant number; and one way in which fresh summoners died has been solved to my satisfaction now. The things they don't spell out for you in boot camp.
I really wanted to let my wings out; to see if they matched the ones I'd possessed last night. I was sure they did, but I wanted to SEE that they did. Of course I couldn't, not here. Karen might walk in, or another more experienced summoner might detected the power surge somehow and want to investigate. I'm sure I gave them more than enough to start looking into last night, but no reason to try borrowing more trouble.
It had nothing to do with driving home that I was even more of a freak than before. I could only repeat to myself that at least it isn't permanent, just an extremely long time. Something about that thought bothered me, but I couldn't put my finger on it.
It didn't matter, I needed time to get used to the new reality; the new me. And that tiny part of me which I cursed, that wondered if I was still attractive as a winged freak. Humans have some very dark places in their souls.
I couldn't even distract myself with work; today was Saturday, mid-morning. I was off. And I desperately needed a change in scenery.
“Was Karen here?”
“She was. You were sleeping so I kept her out of your home.”
Odd choice of words. Was this place my home?
“You've been here all night?”
“You were in danger; your normal orders regarding me going home do not apply in those circumstances.”
So he'd stayed by my side, watching me the entire night... or watching for outside threats. Probably both, really.
“Any threats come knocking?”
“Just Karen.”
He told me that seriously, with a straight face, and he couldn't lie. What was she a threat to? She adored me... or was that an act? She did have problems with showing emotion, and got over that by appearing over the top at all times. Maybe that was her cover? Of course it was... but what was she covering for? Grex couldn't lie, which meant he considered her a threat somehow. And not only a threat, but a threat to me.
At any rate, it gave me a good opportunity to do something I had wanted to do for some time now. Since I was allowed, I was going to go out in simple plain clothes. Doing what, I didn't know. But I would find something. Most importantly I would try to make new friends. I would try to regain some perspective, which is something I felt many summoners ended up lacking in their constant desire to hang out with someone who understands them.
I was beginning to think that desire, that inability to break from one's comfort zone, was a leading cause in the insanity most summoners ended up with. Lack of perspective in life could screw all kinds of things up; current thinking had it being a factor in serial killer cases.
Made me wonder if summoners and serial killers shared more than the obvious traits. I'm sure there were studies on the subject.
“Whatever, go home Grex. If I need you, I'll call you.”
He left without a word.
I drained my coffee, grabbed my keys and wallet from my purse, and left. I made sure to lock up after me, and checked around. I wouldn't put it past Karen to leave an alarm or charm glyph outside my door in order to keep tabs on my movements. Or for her to be standing out in the hall.
I saw no evidence, which meant I was clear. While she could be waiting at the elevators or lobby, she wouldn't be using the back stairs. Or maybe I was being too paranoid in this case... but I didn't think so. Karen had been a constant companion, and I liked her, regardless of the lack of trust. She had a knack for showing up just when I was awake, or considering going anywhere. I just didn't want to deal with any of that today; I wanted to be alone.
The back stairs were good exercise at a jog. Going up them at the end of the day would be even better. My car was clear as well. I peeked; Karen was in the lobby coffee shop, staring out the window. Luckily though, not at me. I was a ghost, I drew the eye. I unlocked my car and got in quickly, before realizing she was staring at a guy; a rather handsome guy.
Good for her, it might keep her busy.
If she saw me drive off, I didn't notice. It might have been a bit obvious to her later, but there was no way Karen could catch my car now. And really, she had no one to blame for that but herself... and jerkbag cops. All the cops knew my car, but I doubted they had anything that could catch it. Especially knowing that I could use my little trick on it. I could go anywhere without any real fear of pursuit.
Now that I was safely away, hidden yet obvious in the flows of traffic, where could I go? I could go to the museum and see the paintings again, general admission this time, but that didn't really appeal for some reason. I wasn't sure how or why, but it seemed almost a betrayal of my date. Besides, it would be mostly older people there... and many of them might know of me. Not my type of crowd today.
I know what I needed. I needed an impulse buy. And luckily for me, the mall was only about five blocks away. I merged and drove carefully. My car was now idiot proof, but that didn't mean others cars were. I was still waiting for someone trying to steal it.
The punishment for that was random, and ranged from nearly lethal to absolutely hilarious.
I parked out in the boonies of the lot, both for more exercise and because I didn't want people denting their car on mine. It wasn't all that hard to explain anymore since the new laws, but that didn't mean I wanted to fill out accident reports and swap insurance for half a day.
The hot outside was just beginning to turn from cloudy to sunny; the mall interior was dark and cool. I think I preferred the outdoors, the heat felt nice.
Now that I was in the cool confines of western decadence, I had to decide what to buy. I was full up on cooking utensils and pans, had more than enough underwear and clothes (Karen had seen to that) I didn't even need any weapons, having plenty of suitable ones for my line of work. My outdoor gear was military issue, and therefore superior to anything from a sporting goods store. I didn't need books, because I still had tons I hadn't read back at home. Movies maybe? But I had a streaming service and cable....
So what form of retail therapy should I employ here? I pretty much had everything.
Hmm, there. An electronics store. Maybe there was something good in there. Couldn't hurt to look anyway. Even if it was one of those horrid big box places where the staff knew less about technology than I did, it couldn't hurt to look. I didn't need a television... maybe a computer? I'd just been using my phone to surf the web; my parents still had my old desktop in my old room. It was old but still worked... I just didn't want to get it. I may be less angry, but I still wasn't ready to deal with my mother. At least not sober; she had been at the museum last night, but I wasn't all that sure what was said anymore. The memory was fuzzy. Something about her embarrassing me.
It probably wasn't the drinking; it was probably me blocking the memory on purpose in order to save what was left of my sanity.
But back to the task; a new computer, perhaps. I wasn't much of a computer nerd, but they seemed ubiquitous anymore. A little asking around and I could even find the summoner only chat boards. Somewhere to ask other summoners from around the world anything, any time. I started in that direction, immediately aware of how the long desk full mostly young, mostly geeky looking 'technicians' in matching red vests were staring at me.
Even the lone woman there.
Maybe I should have used a disguise? I admit being whiter than your average ghost with hair to match wasn't exactly normal, but this seemed excessive. Then again, an active magical disguise would be my only option... and I didn't know how. Being able to cast that kind of magic was rare, and even worse, frowned upon. How did you explain to another summoner, who might have four arms or a face only a troll could love as a result of their pact, that you simply wanted to not be stared at? There would be no way to live such a thing down.
So like those summoners, I'd just have to get used to it.
A bit further from humanity than before, at least I could put my wings away and walk around. I wonder if they would rip my clothes? Oh I bet Grex was just waiting for the inevitable wardrobe malfunctions. It'd be just like him.
I knew the minute I stopped in front of a computer, the entire pack of vultures would be on me. They act like they work on commission or something; like used car salesmen. I wasn't a computer drafter or programmer so I didn't need the latest bright and shiny thing. A certain cute little laptop caught my eye, sold with a case and everything. A quick glance at the spec sheet proved it was adequate.
They were still watching me, so I didn't stop. On to a section I needed even less... the game system aisles. All the bright and shiny new teen and preteen toys. I felt old just looking at the eye catching packaging. Plenty of young adults played these things, right? I couldn't exactly see the allure.
Let's see, the biggest and best one was a large expensive box released just after I went into basic. And there, in front of the display model, playing some game with her tongue stuck out and making weird growling sounds, was Gloria Luxhall, in all her gothy emo glory.
I couldn't help myself. Thought of Gloria led naturally to thought and memory of 'City. City, who I'd never be able to hold again Who I'd likely never be able to even talk to again. Knowing that for months, and seeing someone who could drive it home were two separate things. What was she even doing here? She was dressed in one of the red vests, which meant she worked here. Luckily she didn't notice me, being too absorbed in... a fighting game?
Wow, that game was bloody.
“Sorry, did you want to play? I'll get off.”
Whoops, apparently all of her focus wasn't taken by the game.
“No need. Just watching. Did you just cut that guy's head off?”
She was glancing between me and the screen, getting an eyeful like everyone else.
“Yeah. Take it you don't play fighters much? They are all kinda like this.”
A stray thought, a bad thought; did she still talk to City? Bad or not it took some effort to squash.
“New to gaming more or less; never had the time for it before. Here for a little retail therapy, mainly.”
Yes thanks to Karen I knew that term. Gloria turned to look directly at me and her game character died. She didn't notice, her gaze hungry and oddly enough lingering on my breasts and... ears?
I knew the darned earrings attracted the wrong crowd!
“So you've got a lot of free time then? Gaming can be a serious time sink.”
I shook my head.
“Not really. If anything it'd be a small hobby.”
She took a guess, which was a surprisingly astute one, for all that it was low hanging fruit here.
“Military?”
I nodded.
“Guilty as charged.”
I could see the other, more loaded question in her eyes. Demon touched or summoner? Both looked... unusual at times, but one was considered still sane and one was considered a bundle of crazy as a matter of course. Of course most summoners that looked like me had to wear robes. I was a special borderline case in that regard.
“It's all in the bearing. Yeah I can see how that would crimp any gamer plans. We get plenty of that here, lots of money and almost no time. You sure you want to buy one of these?”
“Nah I'm not sure. Just wanted to avoid the sharks circling the help desk was all.”
This aisle was the first one out of sight after all.
She grinned.
“I know what you mean. They descend like wolves. It's the commission we get.”
So they did get a commission on sales!
“How much?”
“Three percent on any electronics sales over 500 bucks.”
That wasn't much, but I guess working here, it could add up. I had bought a game system earlier when moving from the barracks, but it wasn't this one. And I had never used the one I owned for games... though it made a great movie streaming device.
“So can this thing stream movies and stuff like that too?”
“Yep. It can even stream television and game streaming sites.”
Hmm, there was a market for that? I was far too sheltered I guess.
“Hmm, I'll tell you what. You've convinced me. I want you to grab one of the laptops in front, number 4121, one of these, and five games you feel no one with this system should be without. I'll be in movies when you're done.”
Even if she didn't know we were friends, I could still do her a favor. And it wasn't like I didn't have the money. I didn't even need to spend much on food unless I wanted to, and my rent was a pittance, and covered all my utilities. I was actually sort of rich, at least compared to the normal almost nineteen year old. Gloria almost jumped away from the display model as I walked off.
“I'm on it, ma'am.”
I had no sooner picked up the seasons of Top Gear out on DVD (blu-ray of course) when Gloria came back, pushing a cart. I checked, everything was in there. I even recognized the fighting game she had been playing. And what may have been the latest first person shooter I'd been seeing ads for. I threw my top gear seasons in there. She smirked at me before asking:
“Would you like anything else, Ma'am?”
How she kept this job I'll never know. Maybe she was new and management hadn't caught on yet?
“No, I think that's plenty. If I can just avoid buyer's regret this will be more than enough retail therapy.”
I followed her to the check out lane; she led the way to a closed lane, and opened it for me. Neither of us spoke while she beeped my purchases, and I handed her my debit card. She deviated when handing me my receipt though, writing something on it.
“Maybe this will help that buyer's remorse. It's my tag on the gamer network. Just type it in exactly as it appears, and when I get the email I'll add you. Then we can game.”
“Hah. Then you can kick my noob butt.”
She nodded completely without shame.
“That or we can play co-op. Really doesn't matter which to me.”
I shrugged and made a show of looking at her name tag.
“I don't mind either, Gloria, as long as I learn. My name is... well the name I go by is Snow. Pleased to meet you, and enjoy the day.”
The big box, like most of it's kind, had a back door that opened directly onto the parking lot. I waved as I pushed the cart out the door, making my escape before the small horde of males could come and carry my purchases for me. Screw that, I wasn't an invalid; let them help the old lady they were currently ignoring. I pointed her out to the one in the lead, and to his credit he veered towards her. The rest I just flat beat out of the store. I couldn't quite run, but I was close. Not even parking lot traffic slowed me down, though I did slow it down. Some of it screeched to an irritating halt.
Once clear of the more common parking spot I didn't have to worry. My car was in the same spot and still alone. The entire trip inside had taken at most, forty-five minutes. It wasn't even quite lunch time yet. There was only one conclusion to draw from that; I sucked at retail therapy.
So what to do now? Go back in and look for more impulse buys after dropping over a thousand dollars, or give it up and go somewhere else? I sure didn't want to go back home; not yet. I still wanted to be around people, normal people, at least for a little while longer. Hmmm.
If I drove across town, I could go to the good Burger barn in time for lunch, get myself something bad for me, and bask in the glory of teens that aren't summoners. Or summoners yet; whichever. They were normal for the moment. Would that liven up my day, or depress me more? Or would I over think it like a moron?
I rolled my eyes as I put my new crap in my trunk. For a moment I wished I had that lock opening remote control; the old school method was kind of annoying. At least the car itself made up for it. I drove slowly, not being in any particular hurry. I waived to the few cops I saw as I went by. They waved back without hesitation, which was something. Maybe I could hang out with the cops themselves? Would either the detectives or the uniforms accept me? I didn't want to just hang out with the ADTF, but would cops that were only one step removed from such doings, be far enough away from it?
The drive was at least soothing, and I made it to the burger barn unscathed. It was just beginning to fill up... and a familiar car was in the lot. Seriously, what was it with my class? Gloria working at best buy instead of being in the University of Pheonix, and Randolf the jerk-bag still working at Burger Barn. Maybe he was a manager by now, and that's why he stayed? I entered another cool and somewhat dark interior.
Nope, he was still a wage slave, in front of the counter. After a matter of some months; that alone was odd. So were the giggling gaggle of girls taking up three tables and staring at him. All younger than I, unless I missed my guess. I paused in the door, trying to get what they saw in him. I couldn't see it; maybe that was because I actually knew him, or at least knew more of him than they did? He was grinning and flirting and playing right along, even though at least a few of the girls had to be underage.
Disgusting.
It also didn't stop him from looking my way at the earliest opportunity. And he perked right up; I always knew that if he was here forgetting me was too much to hope for. The gaggle in the far corner also turned and stared. Looks I couldn't even begin to decipher flickered on their faces. I knew somehow that I didn't like the looks for the most part.
Which meant that this trip was a bust. The teens and their hangers-on were not happy to see me, somehow. Well most of them; the few guys around were easy to read. They were all awe and lust. A few of the women were sporting similar looks, or just simple curiosity, but they were definitely in the minority.
I stilled my features as I marched up to the counter; one part cop training and one part military training kicking in to fix my bearing. Despite breakfast, despite the early hour of the lunch, I was famished.
”I'd like a bacon cheeseburger and large fries please.”
Karen would be so jealous... she feels that constant dieting is a thing she needs. Despite the fact that I think she weighs less than I do, it's impossible to convince her she isn't fat. She needed to meet other people at least as badly as I did. I wondered if I dared convince her....
“Hello again, Lieutenant. One bacon cheeseburger and large fries coming up. Unless I missed you, you haven't been here in awhile. What are you up to this fine day?”
Oh my God... shut up. I just want a burger, not witty repartee. Wow, I just thought that and wasn't struck dead by lightning. Just another tacked on to the multitude I guess. I wonder how many of those it'd take to put me over the edge, if I wasn't already there. I wonder if I can ask Grex, he would likely know.
“Just out shopping... been busy so far and this was my first real opportunity to get out.”
Sometimes I was too darn polite for my own good.
“Well at least you got today. I thought you might have been transferred already; sometimes that happens.”
This was some pretty clumsy prying. At best a five out of ten.
“No danger of that just yet. Just a very busy several months.”
Thankfully, the food was as fast as ever. I didn't know the name of the guy who cooked back there, but I knew him by sight; he had worked here since I was a kid. He delivered it since Randolf was distracted, and the urge to jump the counter and kiss him for that speed was pretty strong. I managed to suppress it all though, and make good my escape, speaking before he could in order to avoid sticking around and dealing with more sad excuses of small talk.
“Thank you both. See you both around.”
I heard two twin intakes of breath behind me, big gulps. I didn't want to look back, but I did wonder what they had seen. Had they seen the wings or something? Randolf knew I was military, but didn't know I was a summoner; last time here I had left him with the impression I was demon-touched but regular military. Or had they both, as I suspected, been staring at my butt?
The reaction of the teen girls seemed to indicate the latter.
I took my old regular table... a small one at the corner of the building, with chairs for two people, and one I could place my back to two walls with it. And while walls wouldn't necessarily stop demons, or even high powered rifles, any perpetrator would have to see me precisely to take me out before I could respond.
And just like that, as I bit into my burger while scanning the crowd, how far normal had moved. While I had always been this paranoid before, having been raised by paranoid ex-military parents, now my fears had grounding. Specific examples and specific scenarios that could be used to kill me, and those around me.
Even those teens, many of whom were around my age, weren't pissed at me on general principles for the attention I garnered, it would be impossible to fit in with them anyway. How would I deal with talk of clothes and boy bands? I'd never liked that stuff. So this was looking like an even bigger bust than the mall.
Even taking my time and watching the crowd come and go, I finished before the giggling crowd. The barn in general filled up quickly. I ate as fast as would be considered polite, and only just. Now that I was certain this was the wrong approach, I could take a deep breath and wave, so I did on my way out. Luckily Randolf was too busy taking orders to follow me outside, like he had the first time. I carefully backed my car up and left.
So where to go now?
It was just past noon, and the day was at it's hottest. The sun's heat, which should have been enervating by now, in which I could see other people wilting before they moved into the air conditioned confines of the eatery, was inviting to me. Soothing. Perhaps I was more changed by all those desert runs and PT than I thought.
And perhaps that was the answer. I was after all primarily moving to be doing something. Where were places people gathered to do physical things? Gyms and sporting places mostly. I didn't want to be indoors today, so... bike and hiking trails, state parks, or just out in the desert. I didn't have to worry about being alone in the desert as much as the next person, but the chances I'd find any people to converse with would be slim to none.
On the other hand I did know where a small park was, and it had both hiking and biking trails. It was the same park Karen and I had gone to for that silly re-enactment. It would be perfect, being one of the few places with actual vegetation. It was also a nice drive from here, though not quite across town again.
I altered course and drove... and picked up the tail behind me.
It was a late model Challenger, in an interesting shade of lime green, with black stripes down the hood and sides. Inconspicuous, it was not. Which left out a cop. I didn't recognize it, so it wasn't another summoner's car. It could be a terrorist, or a few of them. I checked, and the car did follow me into the parking lot I veered into. I went back out into traffic and continued on. I had caught sight of the driver; and he was alone.
He was bald and looked fit, but I wasn't afraid of a lone human anymore; at least not one I could see.
At the park I pulled in at the first lot I saw with a hiking trail. I got out and waited. The charger pulled right up next to me, on the other side of my own car. So, not a professional at all then. I crossed my arms and leaned back. I didn't give the person a chance to talk.
“why are you following me?”
He pointed to my car.
“Your car. It's a nice piece of work, and I think I recognize the work. Peevil's?”
Sounded like a last name.
“Peevil? I've no idea. No one involved ever told me who exactly had done the work. They just shanghaied my car and brought it back eight hours later.”
He was staring at my car, taking in all the details. He wasn't even glancing at me after the first look. Maybe he really was interested in the car? He was as big and buff as I'd thought, dressed much like I was in jeans and a T-shirt. His face was hatchet like, with a large sharp edged nose and thin lips. He was not a handsome man. He saw the old fashioned bubble light.
“Cop? Yeah, cops all go to Peevil. He's the best in the city. Name's Mark. Pleased to meet you.”
His smile transformed him from a potential threat to a nice guy. When he held his hand out, awkwardly, across my car I caught a full view of his army tattoos. It was the same unit as the Captain. Had to be younger than him though. Wasn't an off duty cop; after months around the police force I felt I'd recognize both him and his car.
“Name's Snow. The car was a bit of a hazing.”
“Heh. Good one. I hope you got them back for this.”
He tapped my painted hood.
“Still waiting on the perfect idea, but I will.”
It's hard to find the proper balance of evil idea without actual harm involved on the victim. I hadn't had that perfect idea yet.
“Revenge is a dish best served cold, eh? I can understand that. Sorry about the following bit, but I saw you at the Burger Barn, and wanted to get a good look at this beauty. She is a piece of work.”
He took another long look at the car. I wasn't sure what to say.
“I'm not the car buff I'm afraid. My dad restored this one, before your guy Peevil got to it. It used to be just a simple powder blue without any engine modifications.”
Mark nodded.
“So, an old style police cruiser then. Your dad a cop too, or just a fan of the classics?”
What?
“He's both actually, but I'm not. What do you mean?”
I locked the car up, now satisfied that by the reverence in his face that he wouldn't try to key it the moment I left. I was also pretty sure he had me pegged as a summoner by now, and didn't seem put off by the fact.
“Simple. The Chrysler Newport was used as a police cruiser way back when, at least in some areas. It had a powerful engine and good speed for it's day.”
“Interesting. Well since you already know what I do, how about telling me what you do?”
“Oh, simple. I'm a mechanic that does custom work for cars. I used to work for Peevil; he was my boss. I recognized my co-workers work, mainly in the art...”
I finished the sentence for him.
“And you decided you wanted a better look. Well I don't mind, take your time. As for me, I'm going to do what I came for, and hike.”
He waved as I left, but didn't see my return wave. Too busy looking at the detail work. I grinned; that went better than I had expected.
I didn't bring my pedometer, so some quick work with a phone app and I'd now know how many miles I walked or ran. An hour sounded about right. I started jogging, my cares melting into the pelting steps. The path was very scenic; the trees were green and the scrub was in bloom, and the winding path would suddenly open up into magnificent red-butte vistas. It wasn't quite as good as those views off the beaten path, but it was surprisingly good. The path was busy, with more than a few tourist types and regulars, by their dress. They gawked at me as I went by of course, but I ignored it. It was well watched as well, with rangers patrolling it's length.
The phone chimed the hour before I expected; I was on my way back to my car, but still a good twenty minutes from it. I had not been so much as spoken to, let alone followed. My car was also alone and undamaged. I didn't think it could be hurt anymore.
When I got shipped overseas I really wanted to take my car with me. If I could find gas and maybe change the suspension and wheels, it could be a very pretty tank Maybe I could add a turret. Of course tanks didn't fare well traditionally in the fight against demon-kind... they couldn't hide well enough, and even an imp could cut one open, given time. At least a mundane one. Enchanted ones seemed to draw demons like moths to flame... and hundreds would die or be banished to take a single one out. Considering the number disparity of countless hordes versus a few thousand tanks at best, the armies of the world simply couldn't afford the investment. Planes weren't much better, though for some reason flying demons tended to go after those only if they were armed. Another thing to ask Grex; it hadn't been properly explained in boot camp. It was probably something obvious that everyone knew or something.
Finally, I'd at the very least wasted enough time; the sun was on it's way down. The traffic was beginning to get pretty crazy, so that blew even more time. If I were of a military bent, I would have to declare this particular mission a failure. I was of military bent after all, come to think of it; or close enough for other people to consider me so.
I pulled back into the summoner's lot, having completed my parking lot tour for the day. Karen was not in the coffee shop, thankfully enough. That would have been weird. But perhaps not entirely unexpected. The stairs were just as empty on the way up as they were on the way down this morning. But there was a new decoration on my apartment door.
An alarm rune, scribbled on a piece of lined notebook paper. As ludicrous as it looked, I could feel the slight bit of power in it. It screamed Karen. If I got close enough, it would trigger. Did I want Karen here? I did. Or rather, I didn't care anymore. I pulled the sheet of paper off my door (it had been stuck there with gum) and unlocked my door.
“Grex, veni Huc!”
He appeared on the other side of the kitchen table, even more butler-like than usual with his hands folded behind him, in the perfect spot really.
“Coffee Grex, no special additives. Karen is coming. When you're done with that, you can go outside to my car and bring the bags and boxes from it up to me.”
“As you will, my mistress.”
He got to work. As soon as he was dine starting the coffee, with perfect timing, Karen knocked on the door.
“Come in Karen.”
Grex let her in on his way out. She watched him until he was out of sight before finally asking:
“Where is he going?”
“To get my bags. I engaged in some retail therapy today.”
“Oh? We'll make a proper girl of you yet! What did you get?”
I'd have the last laugh when she heard what I got. Proper girl indeed; as if all proper girls were shopaholics or something. I guess even psychiatrists weren't immune to stereotypes.
“A new game system, laptop, and some top gear DVD's. Got tired of using my phone for internet.”
She pulled a face, then pulled another as Grex teleported noisily into the living room, sulfur smell and all.
“How very pedestrian. Can I help you set it up?”
That light in her eyes... that feverish gleam. I was suddenly sure Karen and Gloria had more in common than I first suspected. I grabbed the knife I kept around for opening boxes; I didn't want Karen to have at it with her normal messy gusto. I wanted to keep the boxes; a good box was always useful, and if you wanted to resell a thing later, having all the original packaging made it worth more. I wasn't entirely sure how or why it worked that way in this day and age, but it did.
The game system came first. I set it up easily; high def cable into the television, controllers into system, power cord, done. The first thing the game system prompted me to do when turned on was to set up my network, which was really a matter of it detecting the wireless set up throughout the building, and then picking a name. Oddly enough while Snow was open, Yellow Snow was not. As clear a statement on western gaming culture as could be made.
Gloria was already on, under her own moniker: FanGloria. Yes, a play on the rather famous magazine. It suited her. I sent her the friend's request while Karen looked on.
“Who's that?”
I plugged in the headset and activated the voice chat feature. I could already hear Gloria's voice on the other end greeting me, even with the headphones off. I covered the mic.
“An old school friend I met again. She was working in electronics store for some reason. No idea why, she should be in college right now, I think.”
“Oh, which one was it? Miss perky?”
She had to be thinking of Felicity.
“No, the goth that was her best friend.”
“Ah. You should be careful. Past lives and history for a summoner can get... tricky.”
And doubly so in your case, she meant. The wrong word in any ear, and my previous life as... that male that I could only dimly remember would come crashing back with a vengeance. What had my name been again?
Karen made a motion at me and I uncovered the microphone.
“Sorry Gloria, I'm here. I thought we could try the fighting game first, unless you'd like to try another.”
He voice crackled through loud and clear:
“Nope that's fine, though I would like to try co-op on the shooter. By the way, if you don't like any of the games, just bring them back when you can and I'll see you get a refund. Least I can do since I picked them out, and your money bought the six pack I'm drinking tonight. Shall we get started?”
I shook my head as I slotted the game. Same old Gloria.
I was getting lazy. If not for Grex, I'd be sleeping late every morning. The game of zap the alarm had changed to time dilate it, which meant it couldn't keep accurate time. With Grex sent away at night that meant that I could snatch an extra five minutes. Of course, that meant that Karen ended up waking me by pounding on my door, but who cared? With a robe on, no one saw what I wore, or how disheveled I looked. Furthermore, all any civilian saw was the robe in any case.
I worried in the back of my mind; I felt as if my humanity was slipping away, piece by piece. I had wings, for craps sake. Wings I hid and jealously guarded, but I knew they were there. Even worse, the urge to use them struck me at odd times, and was getting stronger. Socializing with regular people in the last month had only gotten harder; the only bright spot on that front was through my new gaming console.
Online, in multiplayer games, no one cared who you were; they just cared how well you could play.
There hadn't been any new demon incidents, on or off my shift. Something I was grateful for, but the monotony was killing me. At least I had more spare time now; too bad that I still didn't know what to do with myself. I was even running out of primers to read.
I didn't want to think too hard about that; when I did the amount of mystical bullcrap in my head made it swim.
This morning, however, I woke up early. It was a Friday, and I had work. The clock was somehow accurate even though I had used my power on it the night before; I knew because my own powers had either increased or gained focus, or whatever they had done. I could now accurately tell the time, even half asleep. Somehow, I could also tell where I was in regards to the world, even underground. Some sort of mystic GPS or something. It was currently 6:56:27.
I had about 15 minutes until Karen showed, wanting breakfast. I'm not sure when my kitchen became the local diner for her, but it had. I shut the alarm off and got up, resisting for once, the siren song of my bed. No matter how lazy I wanted to be, I wouldn't be able to do anything until Monday, which oddly enough, was my day off next week. I had to go from the end of my shift directly to the base for my weekend beat down.
My squad were all short timers now. Soon, they would be shipped off to wherever it was decided to send them, and then the dying would begin. Just hanging out in base getting trained, I'd already seen my fair share of flag draped caskets; many of which were actually empty, or nearly so. The coffins of summoners were always black, the ones for enlisted always brown, and both were usually latched shut with tiny intricate polished aluminum latches in order to keep anyone from accidentally opening them and getting a look at just what was left inside.
Soon enough, some of the people I've trained with, perhaps many of them, would be experiencing the same thing. That realization was just now striking home; I'd known it mentally for some time, but emotionally was something else entirely. Heavy thoughts sucked in the morning.
I showered, slowly waking up. The shower and fatigues were routine now; it was amazing what one could get used to. I finished just in time to open the door for Karen, who had her hand raised to knock. She must be feeling polite today. Well either that, or the new door wards I had placed were working, stopping her from just picking the lock and coming in. She still needed to teach me how to do that.
I worked on coffee while she closed the door.
“What, no breakfast?”
“There are waffles and pop tarts in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Karen made a show of looking around.
“What, no Grex?”
She didn't take me up on the offer; so I got my own pop tarts and threw them in the microwave. With the coffee still brewing, I abused the automatic cut off feature to pour me a cup. Karen could get her own.
“Nope. Trying to break bad habits. I'm getting too lazy, depending on Grex too much. Going to try and go cold turkey today, and see what happens.”
Karen cocked her head and stared at me in clear disbelief.
“What? I can do it.”
I could clearly hear the questioning note in her voice.
“Sure you can, Snow; sure you can.”
She poured her own cup then sat down, snagging a pop tart from my plate. I shrugged; I could always steal some donuts from the desk sergeant; he wouldn't say no. He wouldn't say anything, in fact. I wasn't even sure he used the chip in money I put into his jar. I fought down the urge to ask with every donut I snagged, so far successfully. He for sure didn't take any requests; there were no twists or bear claws in the assortments, ever.
“So, what's on tap for you today?”
“More sitting on my butt at the office. It's not my day to drive around, and Chuckles wouldn't trade.”
Chuckles was one of ours, known for his trademark laugh. It was part Hyena, part hound of Tindalos. What driving around meant most of the time, was listening to my music on my phone or stopping off at various fast food joints or parks; the team in the vans often did more lazy things than those at the office; it was a coveted position that was well fought over.
The things no one tells a newbie; I traded my first few shifts of that in order to watch streams with Cords. It was preferable; at least it was in the sunshine and fresh air. Usually when Judge drove, there was exercise, as he knew all sorts of nice out of the way spots within the city to stop and stretch one's legs.
I shouldn't be so uncharitable; hanging out with Cords was nice. He had become even more witty lately, while still not being pushy; it was pretty obvious to me now that he not only had it, he had it bad. But despite that, he was taking things slowly, which I appreciated. He must know I did, if not the full reason why. With my summoner records sealed, there was no way for him to tell; which meant that sooner or later I would need to do it.
But with luck, not today.
I finished my coffee and poured another cup; since I no longer needed to look behind me to check the time; I knew I had enough. Karen refilled her own.
“So, how are you?”
She knew; all the time around me had given her some uncanny insight into my character, which was of course the entire point. So she picked right up on my current mood. She asked right out with absolutely no tact whatsoever, so I answered the same way.
“I've been better. Sorry, just a bit of normal depression; Woke up this morning thinking about my squad.”
“Ahh, right. Want to talk about it? Here is as good as my office.”
It was true, this now qualified as my home ground, and I was more comfortable here than anywhere else, even Karen's office, which was designed from the flooring up to put people at ease.
“Maybe later. I'm fine for now; already mostly over it. Just having humanity's frail mortality shoved in my face again.”
Karen shrugged with a grin.
“You get used to it.”
She was right, as horrific as it sounded. Humanity really could get used to anything.
The rest of breakfast time, all 6 minutes, 47 seconds of it, passed without comment by either of us. As the clock (both my internal and external ones) hit 7:30, Karen stood up. I joined her and we left; I made sure to lock up. I didn't want to give anyone any extra chances. The drive over was just as quiet, at least conversationally. It was beginning to grow awkward by the time we pulled into the station. I knew something was on Karen's mind, but I had no idea what it was. She pulled in than hesitated.
“Um....”
“What is it?”
“Well, it's just... you have to go to the base for the weekend, but I don't, and I was wondering... could I borrow your key? Play that game system you bought, drink your beer, eat stuff that's bad for me, that sort of thing?”
“Can't you just buy your own?”
Karen really liked my new game system.
“Yes, but I can't buy your friends list. They like playing with me, but I wouldn't have to convince them a new account was me, and it would take forever, and....”
She was obviously overstating how hard it would be, but I didn't really care. It wasn't like this was the first or only time she had been in my apartment alone. I couldn't prove it, there was never any evidence, but I could feel it, like fingernails on the chalkboard on my mind. It was almost as if I could smell her lingering presence somehow, like a sort of psychic perfume. So what was one more time, when I knew for certain she'd be there?
“Alright, Karen. I'll hand you the key at the end of work, OK?”
She needed more friends too after all; in the last few months, the only one I'd seen her with in other than a workplace setting had been me. At first I thought she was just keeping an extra careful eye on me as part of her job, but it seemed like she really was just as friendless as I was. Karen being friendless made even less sense than me being friendless; she didn't look like a summoner without the robe, while I was either obviously a summoner or demon touched; either group found it hard to get people to stick around without screaming. Karen actually jumped for joy with a wide smile.
“Yes! I had a date to own Gloria tonight in that fighting game she likes! She's going down tonight!”
Neither one of us had managed to beat Gloria even once, and I doubted tonight would be the night.
“Good, give her one for me.”
We both walked in and promptly stole a few donuts while the desk sergeant pointedly looked the other way. They were the standard fare; simple powdered ones. Knowing Karen, she would be wearing that powder all day; I intended to be more careful. We split up at the elevator; Karen to her office and me to the den of inequity.
Where I got my first rude surprise of the day, from the Captain himself.
“Morning Snow. Chuckles is down sick, so you get to play ride along today; Karen will be our on call.”
So summoners can get sick after all? Other than me getting feverish that one night, I hadn't seen another summoner get sick, or call in sick. For my part, I was too scared too, for all that I could use the day off. So, logical question time:
“What's wrong with him?”
“Blood loss, mainly. He chopped one of his own arms off.”
….What?
“Why the hell would he do that?”
The captain shrugged, face closed off.
“You got me. No idea, but he did it. The docs managed to save the arm, though it's doubtful he'll ever get full use back. He'll get an evaluation when he recovers, but until then, you're up.”
Well that was... that was fucked up. The captain knew what I was really asking.
“Sometimes it just happens, Snow. Chuckles was a nice, likeable guy, and now he's insane. Maybe he'll come back, and maybe he won't. But for now we need to work on today. And today, you're assigned to roam.”
I went, thoughts awhirl in my mental washing machine. I felt that as batty as I was, I was stable. I'd seen Chuckles just yesterday, and he had been fine. The idea that he, that any of us, could just snap and start sawing on ourselves of all things was pretty frightening. Maybe once at the base I could look into such incidents; they had to be a matter of record on file. I did know that actual suicides were low, but self mutilation? I hadn't thought to check before.
I hit the motor pool and saw Roddy, Judge, Conners, and Culling suiting up in their full tactical gear. There was no conversation at all, so I guess they already knew about Chuckles. I checked; I did have the ear buds for my phone, in a robe pocket.
We were all set, ready to go, and piling into the Hum-v when pounding footsteps sounded loudly through the garage. I waited as desperate panting rounded the corner, one foot on the vehicle step.
The panting resolved itself into Cords, who had apparently run full tilt through the station and garage to reach us. He had a small shopping bag in hand. At least he was in good enough shape to avoid bending over and clutching his stomach, though judging from his breathing, I was now in better shape than he was.
“Great! Just in time! Here!”
And he shoved the bag into my hands.
“What's all this?”
He grinned and scratched the back of his head with his hand, what I was now beginning to recognize as a nervous gesture of his.
“It's what you would have had if you'd spent today in the office.”
What? Oh, I get it.
“So, all your drinks and snacks?”
“Yep! Every bit of it; even the jerky.”
My eyes Widened. Good brand name beef jerky was expensive; far worse than the energy drinks he favored. It made it fun to take when his back was turned; it was high stakes snackage theft. I caught sight of some knowing looks and shared grins behind me using the mirror. No doubt plans were being made to tease me mercilessly over this development. I swear, cops were like kids or something.
“Thanks, Cords. Enjoy that new show.”
Cords had recently picked up the burning desire to see every bad horror television series known to man, one after the other. I had to admit, they were pretty funny. I also had the same desire that I'm sure every one in our line of work has, when viewing them or their movie equivalent; the desire to show the people responsible what true horror was.
The latest tour de force was “The devil's daughters,” which was supposed to be a realistic take on half demons among us. Or something; I was leaning towards the or something, personally. The pilot had just aired last week to all the customary blandly positive reviews, which usually meant the show was garbage. If the show was garbage, then it was going to be good television... as in hilarious. I got in and shut the door on his grinning face with a wave before I realized there was something else in the bag.
It was a pad, and not one of the cop standard pads. This one had to be Cord's own personal pad, and there was a sticky note on it that stated 'Show starts in one hour. Stay tuned' with a smiley face. It didn't take long for the team to start in. Conners started in first; maybe it was a prerequisite of being team leader.
“Aww, that's so sweet. Young love is so beautiful.”
I was not happy about the stutter in my response. My face heated.
“Sh-shut up!”
I wasn't sure I even felt that way; the closest I had come was City, and while Cords seemed to be every bit as fun to be around, I wasn't sure he even came up to that standard yet. So far it was just boredom and lack of things to do at work when I wasn't hunting demons or training.
Wasn't it?
“Office romances always end badly. Take my word for it rookie.”
“Shut up Judge. Don't mind Judge, Snow. His last romance with the coffee maker didn't work out, and now he's hopelessly jaded. Don't worry Judge, soon you will find love again. Maybe with the espresso maker in the closet.”
“Too late.”
Oh, ewww.
“Now that's the look! That embarrassment, that pose! The sole reason to get out of bed in the morning!”
Oh come on now.
“Et tu, Culling?”
He grinned at me.
“Sure, why not? Not like we got anything better to do at the moment.”
I was momentarily distracted by the drive out into the bright sunshine. Conners was now all business, going through the radio and network checks while Judge drove. Traffic started parting before us like the customary school of fish before a shark.
“Well maybe in an hour. Got a good comedy on this thing, if Cords is to be believed.”
It seemed they were done razzing me for now, at least.
“Sounds good. You two still doing the mystery science theater 3000 thing to current horror shows?”
How did he know that? Does everyone know everything that goes on in that cop shop, or what? Did Cords tell, or were they spying? My money was on spying, as Cords seemed like a gentleman to me, but how were they doing it? Maybe I should ask.
“Yeah that's the plan. Got the new one loaded and ready to go. Something about half demons, running amok.”
“How the crap would that even work? I mean, how would you even get the average imp or demon dog to....”
No! I did not need that kind of image, especially now!
“Shut up, Culling, or I'll cull you.”
I tried to suppress my shudders. I did not succeed. Even Conners was shuddering at that one; she punched Culling in the arm, hard. That would definitely bruise, but he deserved it.
“Well, death threats against your own. Finally, you've gone from apprentice to master.”
I was glad she didn't try to mention that thing that Culling said. She sent him a warning glance as I moved the awkwardness forward.
“At any rate... the show is there, and starts in an hour. It's supposed to be some strange Illuminati crap, with demons ruling the world or something, and somehow not burning it. I think it's supposed to be some sort of desperate housewife dream or something.”
“Well first things first. We need coffee to start this shift off right.”
I couldn't agree with Roddy more. Maybe some Irish coffee, in fact. It wasn't like I had to drive, after all. It seemed like one of those days.
The coffee shop looked familiar; it was in fact the same one I had stopped in after my first successful demon hunt. I wanted to just pile out, but Conner demanded only one of us go, with a list. We needed to man the radio and other comm gear. And Culling had volunteered earlier, whether he knew it or not.
“That guy... what a pig. Some things are just too disgusting to say. Must be a guy thing.
I couldn't help but nod. Judge shrugged.
“Don't look at me. We aren't all like that; it's just Culling was dropped on his head a few too many times as a baby.”
Well I couldn't argue that possibility. Obviously something happened. After all, it was just fiction; there were no half demon Illuminati beefcakes running around. There were... incidents. Rumors, and some files of demon attacks that were restricted. But it just wasn't a polite thing to mention, ever. Even as a joke. Some female summoners could get beyond angry at any perceived innuendo.
I wasn't there yet, but then again, I hadn't been to any front yet. Perhaps I should ask Karen, but it really was a difficult subject to broach. Asking my mom would be even weirder. Maybe closer to my ship out time it wouldn't be quite so awkward.
Culling came back with our coffee, and with a couple boxed coffee cakes held against his chest like babies. He plopped one in my lap, then one in Conner's.
“An apology. I'm sorry, my mouth outpaced my brain.”
Judge looked hurt.
“Where's mine? I was pretty offended too.”
“Shut up Judge.”
Wow, shut down hard. Roddy looked like he wanted to say something, but after opening his mouth he closed it and went back to monitoring the normal cop traffic through the headset he was wearing around his neck. How he heard anything meaningful through it like that I'll never know. I took my coffee as the drink carrier made it's way around the confines of the vehicle interior.
We got rolling again, cruising slowly through the arteries of the city. I wondered how long it would take for the drinks Cords slipped me to get hot. Maybe I should suggest a mini-fridge be installed in our ADTF fleet? That should be an easy suggestion to get backing for, and I don't think vehicle drink refrigerators were that expensive; I mean every limousine had one, right?
I was worrying about my perspective a lot lately. But when placed beside the worry of my energy drinks getting hot, it was a small thing indeed, somehow. Then again, I was going about this all wrong, wasn't I? I should be thinking like a summoner. A sharpie from my robe's pocket, a quick rune traced on the bag, and anything within it was now chilled. Well at least as long as the rune was unbroken in any way; a simple fold in the bag stopped the magic from working. I carefully placed it next to me.
I'd shred the thing later, when I went to recycle it. Wouldn't do to give away secrets to the uninitiated, after all. Conners shook her head; she had been watching me.
“What?”
“Nothing. It's a good idea. Mind if I put a drink of my own in there?”
Why would I mind?
“Of course not, you all can, as long as they fit in the bag.”
Roddy reached over and slid a mountain dew into the bag, without a word and without even glancing away from his console. I wish I knew how some people did that; being able to find things unfailingly without sight would no doubt be very handy. I'd asked Karen once, and she had said it was the 'view of experience' in action, whatever that really meant. She could do it too, and that infuriated me just a little.
“Next stop, Illspew park.”
Illspew park was the park named after the summoner Illspew, a sort of hometown hero who lost his life in the battle of something or other. No one really knew anymore, but he had been a big deal in the 60's, and one of the first national heroes produced by the Spire. It was a good haunt because no one ever went there anymore, if they ever did. And no one ever went there anymore because the place was a dumb. It was literally a rotting park bench, a rusty swing set and slide, and a few hardy half dead patches of grass and scrub bush that the heat hadn't managed to kill. Even the trees had died and been cut down, years before I'd ever been here. I only knew the place had trees once because of the rotten bug infested stumps.
Even the plaque that used to list the mighty Illspew's accomplishments was missing, a recent casualty of vandals.
It was kind of sad, really. But at least it was a nice quiet spot from which to watch traffic go by. Before my own drafting, I had seen the ADTF vehicles park here, the people out and stretching their legs, but hadn't put two and two together. Now, from this end, I could recognize the value of a place like this, in a location like this. It was invaluable.
And it was about forty minutes from any cop shop, which made it a kind of central location. The uniforms knew we liked it, and sometimes stopped by for a chat. There were none here this early today, however. Right at Nine and zero seconds, we pulled into our customary parking spot and the pad in my hands crackled to life, rolling the almost emo opening credits to the show. I opened my door in hope of a breeze as everyone else gathered close, some (like Judge) without trying to look as if they were doing so.
The show was every bit at funny as expected, but it seemed more geared to desperate men than women; almost all the half demons were female, and the emphasis seemed to be on cheap bedroom shenanigans as opposed to romance, or even the world domination the ads promised. There wasn't even any demons in the cast yet, though apparently the half demons were fighting them somehow.
I'd have laughed at this before I was drafted; now it was just ridiculous, like a movie about a shark filled tornado or something.
I was not alone; Conner was howling midway through, Judge was chuckling, Culling was pouting of all things, and even Roddy was cracking smiles. I felt I summed it up best:
“People actually got paid for making that. So very, very sad.”
“Couldn't agree more Snow. You'd think they would have enough cash to put some retirees on the payroll, to tell them what demons were actually like; it's more or less standard procedure. But they obviously didn't.”
Roddy was a little offended, but Culling seemed outright angry.
“Well the half demon concept should have tipped us off. That show was a complete waste of time.”
“Now now Culling, to be fair, the half demon thing did tip us off. That's why we picked it, to see how stupid Hollywood people actually are. Turns out they are pretty stupid.”
Judge sounded pretty happy about the supposed stupidity of Hollywood people. I wonder if there was a grudge there? Maybe he was mad about the recent state of cowboy movies. And maybe I should never say that around him, or I'd find myself eating paint the next time we got together for training. Some cops had a greater advantage than others in petty revenges.
The credits over, the pad shut itself off. How Cords had timed that I don't know, but he had been texting my phone the entire time with comments about the show that left me no doubt at all that he had been watching, and watching the same scenes at exactly the same time as we were. I'd had to avoid knowing elbows to my ribs from both sides, but at least no one had interrupted the show by saying something. If I hadn't been able to hear the crappy dialogue, I'd have been angry, and Judge wasn't the only one that could play with paint if so inclined.
I was thirsty, so I finished off my coffee. There was a trash can, so I threw my empty in. Then I looked around for more empties, and threw them away too. It wouldn't do to let this Hum-V get like the other one the night shift drove after all; while it was something I could deal with, it was disgusting, and would take about a year to clean.
Conner's understood; she helped me while Judge stretched his legs.
Now if the rule of coffee stayed true to form, then we would all need a bathroom break soon. That crap would probably look funny, all of us going on a group potty break. Maybe I could recommend we hit the museum, for giggles. Or descend on some poor gas station that gets robbed a lot or something. Maybe do our part to cut down crime.
And in a twilight zone scene of instant karma, Roddy's console chirped.
“Attention unit 1. Attention unit 1. Priority demonic influence call, location highlighted on map. Please respond.”
I looked over Roddy's shoulder; sure enough, there was a spot highlighted. The corner of Chester and Palmer streets, maybe? Roddy responded.
“Roger dispatch, en route. Any further information?”
“None, unit 1. Call ceased 28 seconds ago.”
We all belted in, and Judge put his foot on the floor. I had been well drilled in standard procedure however, so it was time to go by the book.
“Grex, Veni huc!”
Standard procedure involved calling your own demon as quickly as possible, in order to watch your back and help you analyze the situation 'from an inhuman perspective'. Straight from the handbook itself. It still amazed me that there was a handbook, months after first seeing it.
And just like that, the Hum-V was even more crowded in an instant, as a pair of warm arms enveloped me. The arms materialized first this time, followed by the body off to the side. I shrugged them off to put my earpiece and throat mic on.
“You called, my mistress?”
His smile slipped in the next moment as he took in the mood.
“Demon call Grex. We're heading to it.”
The fact that the call ceased was worrying. That meant that whoever had made the call had not been told to hang up, but had stopped communicating. There was only one reason for the person to stop communicating.
A sudden urge grabbed me. Dare I do it? Should I show my power? My true power?
What had I sold my soul for, if not for this?
Without a second thought, I unlatched an earring and pulled it out, handing it to Grex. It was the lower left one, which was the most recent. It was also the one that governed my wings, which I knew immediately was a mistake. I could feel them ripple on my back, though they did not emerge.
“I'm going to do something.”
And just like that the tension ratcheted up a few more notches. Conner asked the obvious.
“Something like....”
And I answered.
“Speed up our response time. Please don't freak out. You especially Judge.”
Oddly enough, that did defuse the situation somewhat. Long sighs were had by all. Though Judge asked a surprisingly pertinent question.
“Alright, what am I looking for?”
I started flexing my power.
“Slowing down by everyone and everything else. I'm going to speed up our vehicle, and everything else will appear slowed down. Maybe even stopped. So, I take it by your responses this sort of thing has happened before?”
“Well, every summoner seems to get the idea that they are God's gift to the profession, pun intended. So every few months someone gets the urge to try something stupid or reinvent the wheel. You're at least being more smart about it than most, and using a power we've seen you use easily before. You also went so long without trying anything like this we thought you had good enough sense to be immune to the disease. But it turns out it just took you longer, and someone wins the pool.”
They had a pool for everything involving me, apparently. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. My power finished cycling, the pressure rising, I released it and everything started getting that blurry look as we sped up.
“You'll need to start dodging traffic; the other vehicles on the road will be slowing down to a near stop.”
Judge looked around wildly.
“Yeah, I'm getting that.”
Grex held me tighter as the barely road legal tank started taking evasive action.
“So, now you've got me curious. What was the last thing someone tried?”
Conner went green as she responded.
“The last thing someone tried was to set up a series of teleportation circles. His demon gave him a leg up on making those, and he also wanted to try quickening the response times we had. Problem is, for his trial run on his first hunt he went ahead of everyone else and ended up getting shredded by the demon he was hunting. We got there just in time to baggie up what was left.”
Oh ouch. Well at least I wasn't that stupid. A little comfort there.
How would you even run the math possible to teleport to a given location anyway? You would have to take in the Earth's movement, gravity on several bodies at once, wobble, dark matter... I mean, I was sure I could do it, but that would be weeks figuring out the proper formulae just to go one place.
“Well the only bad thing that could happen here is Judge could run over someone. And he shouldn't, since he actually has the time to be careful. After all, we have all the time in the world at the moment to drive carefully.”
Culling looked nervous. Conners looked nervous. Judge, well I could see the whites of his eyes, and I'm not sure what that meant, but it didn't look good.
“What exactly did you do, Snow? I've seen you speed up time before, but does it have any odd side effects or anything?”
“Well technically, I dilated time on the Hum-V and everything in it; this car and everything in it is experiencing time at a much faster rate. An hour outside is a second to us. It will improve our response time no matter what we do. And as far as I know, no side effects. It won't even cause you to age faster, as I'm currently keeping track of the rate of cell growth in all our bodies, and I'll slow it down once we're done. I don't know, I lack the terminology to appropriately explain it.”
“Wait, you can do all that? And to all of us and the Hum-V?”
I nodded. Second thoughts or not, the cat was out of the bag now.
“With my earrings off, yes, pretty easily. I mean it's a strain right now, I can't keep it up for long, but I can do it.”
In fact the drain on me felt liberating; like the opening of a long closed valve, relieving pressure. I had only removed one earring, just to see if I could still do it with most of my power bound. I could, which worried me; how much power did I have, exactly? At least I knew I couldn't keep it up for long without more than one removed now, so that was something.
Of course the five minutes and 3 seconds that I could do it would be more than enough in this case. We were at most 24 minutes from the location of the call, even dodging traffic.
It turned out to only be eighteen. Eighteen silent minutes, or eighteen seconds under dilation, with everyone plastered to a window but Grex and myself. I could almost smell the fear, and there really wasn't any need for it. At least, I hoped not. Grex didn't seem concerned anyway, which should be a good tell for my team.
“Come on guys, it's safe. Grex can't let me come to any harm, after all. Contracts?”
They actually all looked at Grex as Judge pulled into a stop. Grex only raised his eyebrows in response. He couldn't refute it after all, so he didn't try. I wasn't supposed to pop the door first so I waited. Culling was supposed to, with Conners covering, but they didn't seem in too much of a hurry to.
“Guys, we're up. Come on, I can keep this up for a bit longer to cover our entry, but that's it. We need to move!”
Improved response saves lives, after all.
“Right. Just remember, impatience kills. Ready Culling?”
I took a look out the window. Everything seemed normal. Normal for late at night, at any rate. There were no people or cars close to where we were. We should have gotten here before the uniforms, so something else had kept them away. The coordinates given by the cellphone led to... an apartment building.
Culling popped the door, Conner trained her gun on all the open space, and Roddy threw himself out, his own shotgun at the ready and to the right, aimed behind the vehicle where it would be easiest to sneak up on us. They all saw nothing of course, because nothing could get to us in the amount of time it had since we got here... unless it was a very powerful Erinyes or something similar. And if it was, it was almost a certainty that it was one of mine.
Grex stepped out as if from a carriage to a ball, offering a hand to help me down. I took it and looked around; I probably should be taking cover or drawing my athame, but instead I looked around. Nothing, though now that I was closer, there did seem to be a suspicious red stain under that bush to the front of the property....
The stain was a blood trail, which led to a rather well camouflaged body. One that was mostly intact, though shredded to ribbons by deep claw marks. The claw marks were cauterized, which tended to narrow down the perpetrator somewhat. No Erinyes or Minotaur made those. Probably a Cacodemon.
With a distracted thought I released my power, the world blurring back into it's proper speed again, slowly. I could have released it all at once, but I knew from experience how disorienting that could be, and my team was already on edge. Best not to push things. Letting it go, I felt that warming afterglow of fatigue, as if I had exercised well or run a small marathon, and tired myself a bit without exhausting myself.
But under that I could immediately feel my power, my energy, or whatever it was, coiling under that fatigue like a hungry serpent or other restless animal. Nothing a good night's rest wouldn't cure... or the removal of another earring.
Relieving some of that pressure had been amazing; what would removing all of it do? Well other than put me in some only partially explained danger. Conners was far more clinical than I was.
“Looks Like a Caco.”
“Yeah pretty much.”
I controlled my voice at least; it barely broke at all. All the training, all the pictures, even being a cop's child, could only do so much. I was fairly unshakable under most circumstances, but this... this was bad.
And the open cell phone was inside the apartment building.
“Judge, Culling, standard procedure. Roddy, Snow, you're with me.”
Conner headed off to the building, crouched low; something which seemed rather ridiculous in the bright morning sunshine. Standard procedure for Judge and Culling was to establish an overwatch, with Culling watching Judge's back while Judge scanned for our demon or it's summoner from a height. The highest building nearby appeared to be an old bookstore, but the gas station across the street held some promise as well. Wonder which one he will pick; after all, the gas station roof would be easier to get to, and the explosive potential might actually knock a demon around some if used.
It wouldn't win a fight, but it'd send up one heck of a signal, and call the summoner and more importantly, the demon of the team, back to help if they were attacked. In this case, it'd save their lives, because my time dilation trick was easier on me by a long shot, and I wasn't out of juice for it quite yet in any case.
I was quickly bracketed; Conners on my right front, Roddy on my left front, and Grex behind me. It was hard not to feel a little pampered, as crazy as the feeling felt in a situation like this.
You couldn't feel safe, even as a summoner bracketed by people, you were never safe; just in a little less danger. You were never safe, and any safety was an illusion; it was something you learned, something the military taught you... whether they wanted to or not.
Conners hit the door jamb just as Roddy hit the other side. A nod, and Roddy was through, pointing his own shotgun (and when had he replaced his sub machine gun with that, exactly? It had to have been when we were all at the Hum-v, but I'd missed it somehow.) down the suspiciously dark hallway. The darkness drinking in the almost incandescent sunlight of the morning did nothing at all to fool my eyes. I doubted Grex as fooled either, which meant we could both see the bodies.
There were four of them, all lying in pools of their own blood. My vision was keen, and I could make out far more detail than I wanted. Those same slashing wounds as before, cauterized as before, though fewer in number. As if the demon had been in a hurry, and the people in the hallway had simply been in the way.
A few slashes here, one long bone deep slash there... all the limbs were even attached. There was none of the typical enjoyment or slow torture I'd been told to expect of a demon enjoying themselves in evidence; this demon was on a mission.
“What do you see Snow?”
Right. They knew how good my eyes were, and had stopped with guns trained on the entrance. I didn't see the demon waiting, so I answered.
“Bodies. Grex, disperse that.”
I knew I could disperse the darkness. It was a fragile thing which did not belong; A muttered few words to the element of wind would easily do the trick. I didn't want anyone to know just how easy it would be for me. Even my co-workers. Especially my co-workers.
You were never safe, after all.
A few of those whispered words, and the darkness tattered and blew away, somewhat less quickly than expected, but fast enough. Odd, but not something to worry about now. The blood trail led up the stairs. Roddy took point and rushed the hall, aiming the shotgun up the stairs. Conners covered the entryway and Roddy's back. It wasn't likely as the doors to the ground floor apartments weren't broken, but any one of these apartments could be hiding the demon.
Again, properly sandwiched, I walked as calmly though the carnage as I could. The amount of blood pouring down the stairs was enough to slip on if you didn't watch your step; enough to leave me no doubt as to what I'd find at the end of it.
“We need to hurry this up.”
Conners shook her head.
“I hear you Snow, I really do, but we need to do this by the book. The demon could be waiting for us anywhere.”
I knew the reason for proper procedure.
“Or it could be upstairs, slaughtering people even now.”
“Use your head Snow, we'd be hearing that. We are the only line right now, between civvies and more bodies. If we fall here, now... there will be more. Maybe even dozens more. No, we aren't hearing anything because it's gone or doesn't want us to hear anything. We go slow.”
So we went slow, mentally cursing every creak we or muted jingle we made, guns trained ahead and behind, and so mentally on edge I could see the jagged rocks at the bottom of the precipice. The second floor was as dark as the first had been; but the hallway was far more empty. Mercifully so. Grex hugged me as he chanted his words again, anticipating my order. Under the new found sunshine, the hall was pristine.
The occupants of the third floor were not so lucky, as the massive boom and crash above us attested. I looked to Conners, but she shook her head again. We continued the slow climb, and the darkness was back in the third floor hall. The demon had to be here, or the roof; this darkness was just too fragile yet too persistent; it had to be a trait being used. If so, it was a common one; most demons were allergic to sunlight in some fashion, and the ability to conjure darkness while in our world a survival trait. Many demons developed the ability to conjure such globes, or learned spells to do it.
I hadn't heard any chanting but that of Grex, who dutifully dispelled this darkness, again without being asked. The incoming sunlight once again revealed to all what only two had seen before.
This time, it was one body. This time, the body had more in common with the one outside then the ones downstairs. Namely, it was in pieces. The blood trail led right next to it, and the still lit object beside it....
“We were lured here.”
Roddy gaped and pulled his gaze from the splintered door at the end of the hall, favoring me with a look. The trail of blood led into it, and I could smell the obvious trap... underneath the burned plastic and charred wood.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the phone. The buttons are melted. It was used to call us, but not by whoever that poor soul is.”
I couldn't even tell gender visually. Not that it mattered at the moment; it wasn't my job. The splintered door was. Was that what had made all the noise? I didn't think so. I couldn't say why, but a broken door didn't strike me as making that much noise. Conners stepped up, gun pointed down the stairs. She nodded at Roddy.
I could see the sweat pour down Roddy's cheek as he responded, stalking up to the shattered door. No fool, he attached a mirror to the end of his shotgun and used it to peer inside. When he shook his head, that was my cue.
Or rather, it was Grex's.
At my hand signal he ghosted into the room, checking it for demonic presence or trap spells. I didn't move and held my breath. Some demons would be able to sense the air currents, even if they were unable to hear it. Demons could do some weird things.
Like put holes right through walls, apparently.
The demon shouldered through the wall next to the door beside Conners, his fire kissed claws already zeroing in on her face. I was glad to see that it was indeed a cacodemon, one of the less ugly of it's species; always nice to know one's study had been rewarded. A thought and time slowed; too late to save my ears from the awful crunching crash, but in plenty of time for me to dodge the pieces of shrapnel now crossing the distance at me in slow motion. My reaction time with my power had improved, and after only using it what? Maybe ten times, tops, including training? My squad was right; I was going to be a terror on the battlefield.
I dragged a nearly frozen Conners out of the way of those lethal claws, then took my ready athame and applied it to the demons side... multiple times. After the body count this thing had accrued, I wasn't feeling too charitable.
The athame flashed, bright even in the sunlit space, as I carved a banishment into the things tough hide. When I released the time dilation, the cacodemon would either be banished outright... or die outright as the heavily enchanted dagger's wounds hit whatever vital points I had managed to strike. Since demons varied, I had no real way of knowing beforehand.
I released the field, with Conners safely out of the way, and the cacodemon whirred past, burying it's arm into the far wall with a screech. The smell of burning assailed my nostrils immediately, and the wails of the thing when it realized it had been hurt were ear splitting.
It was already beginning to fade under a most painful enforced banishment when Grex breezed passed me and finished it off, his face tight with anger. He put his hand right through the other demon's head as if it was made of tissue paper. Direct, brutal, and effective, it was nevertheless an odd choice for him to pick tactically. The visible anger was a bit odd too; maybe the one explained the other, but seeing him as anything other than calm or slightly mocking was... weird.
I reached the limit of my ability with one earring removed, and the world shuddered back into full speed. A minor miscalculation; I thought I had more time. Better to learn the true measure of my reserves now at least, after the threat was ended. Conners sort of melted into my arms as time fully re-asserted itself, with shuddering breaths.
“Thanks Snow. I owe you one.”
“Grex, what was in the other room?”
“If you mean what was unusual about the dwelling, then the corpses count, I suppose. Dead much like those in the halls.”
So this demon, what? Gets summoned, killed the guy outside, walks into the apartment, starts a quick slaughter-fest, calls us, starts in on the residents not directly in the way, gets surprised by how quick we get here, then sets a trap? What? Who summoned this demon to do this, and why? Someone with a grudge against the ADTF?
Conners was slipping into shock.
“Conners, wake up. Gun up now, think about it later. Grex, Roddy, a more thorough check of those apartments, please. Make sure there are no further traps or oddities.”
Oddities like other demons. If a random summoner had set a trap, then I wouldn't put it past them to stack the odds a bit better than this. Conners shook herself like a wet dog and resumed her vigil. Grex seemed reluctant to leave, so I pointed to my bloody athame in a clear message; I was not helpless. He went.
I was sure he wouldn't have if he knew that I was running on fumes, at least without another earring removed. He might even insist I remove it before he left. This meant that he no longer had a solid idea of how much power I had, anymore than I did... I think. I felt time being bent again, as Grex activated his own ability.
They checked quickly; far more quickly than should have been possible, while being thorough.
“It's clear.”
Conners was checking in with Judge. She saw me looking, and waved the all clear; so there was nothing going on outside. For some reason I couldn't hear what they were saying. Ah, that was why; the cord to the battery pack had been cut somehow. Shrapnel from the wall, maybe?
“Free to begin clean up; Send the uniforms to secure the scene.”
I wanted to look around for clues, but Conners grabbed me.
“Come on; Cords says another demon hit across town, and the second team is handling it. We got to go back them up. The techs can handle this.”
Two calls minutes from each other, after months of relative quiet? What the hell was going on?
I couldn't do my trick with our ride again. I just couldn't, I was too tired; when we got to where the other squad was Jeeves was going to have to be the one to back them up, because I didn't have anything left. Luckily, I wasn't asked. Judge was the last to arrive, stepping up into the driver's side and starting up.
We weaved through the police cars and clean up crews in careful silence, together but alone in our thoughts. Once through though, Judge put the hammer down.
“You alright?”
I must have zoned out a bit; Sarah – no, Conners - was looking me in the eye from a foot away, and she hadn't been there a second ago.
“Just tired. I'm an idiot who used too much juice.”
“Damn it.”
If she could pace, I knew she would be. I was the teams heavy artillery; without me, they may be able to support the other team, or even get the job done on their own, but it would be next to impossible to do it bloodlessly.
Under it all I could see the gratitude, still lurking under the surface.
“Don't worry, I have prepared for this.”
I had almost said 'Grex and I prepared for this,' but that would have been a mistake. I really WAS tired. At least, I hadn't mentioned what the plans were yet; other summoners would have a collective cow over an exhausted summoner actually summoning more demons. Which was why I wouldn't do it unless Grex wasn't enough.
I could even be worrying too much, and the first team could have handled the problem already, and everything could be fine. It was standard procedure to back one team up with the other after all, and technically we were done here. Though I really wanted to investigate myself. Being the… child of a police officer had ingrained some very bad habits in me. I was pretty sure I could stand to trust more.
Since my earpiece was out, I had to rely on the comms of my team for information… which meant I was just doing a lot of staring into tight and tense faces. Things were probably going less than well then. Weapons were being checked and reloaded, gear being checked for faults caused by our earlier encounter, and ammunition restocked.
Still, when Judge altered course in a hurry, kissing our side against some small parked car with a crunch, I felt it might be time to interrupt.
“So, um, how's it going?”
Smooth Maeve, real smooth.
Conners looked over at where I was attempting to rewire my earpiece. Without some wire cutters to clean it up and electrical tape, I was stuck using my nails (which worked suspiciously well on the soft plastic) and twisting it the ends together; if it held at all, it wouldn't hold long.
“Not well. The demon is a Sucker, and suspiciously powerful. She's currently weaving her way through the cordons after sucking enough men dry to power a hundred imps for a year. There was a circle where the call was placed, and it looked like it was for reinforcements. The team doesn't know if it was used or not, but they do know the bitch is a powerful caster; she's throwing spells like water, forcing the team to keep their heads down.”
Great. Just perfect; a succubus, strong or not, would hate me for Grex alone. I could use that, but using it while I was as tired as I am would be dangerous. And any other spell-thrower (demonic or not) was better at it than I was; I just didn't know enough yet. Even with the first squad still there and active, this would be a very hard fight.
That is, unless I used my secret weapon.
But no, I should go with backup plan B first. Backup plan C could wait until there was absolutely no other choice. Conners continued, oblivious to my turmoil. Maybe all the hard work at suppressing my tells was finally paying off.
“So we're heading to cut her off. She's running, and we're playing hammer and anvil.”
That meant we would be in action first. She was already running from the other team, so if we were lucky, Judge would get us there in time to actually set up properly before she smacked into us. It also meant less time to catch our breath, as the first team would be herding her towards us. Just as I came to that conclusion, Judge pulled off into an alley with a screech; I hate it when I'm right.
“Alright, lets go. Judge, that fire escape looks like your best bet. Snow, stay inside the truck. Whatever you're going to do, do it fast. Culling, stay with Judge. Roddy, you're with me.”
She looked at me, and I knew what she wanted. Sometimes I REALLY hated being right.
“Grex, on top of the truck. Make sure you're seen by our new target.”
The truck was the most magically armored piece of real estate around, after all, I was perfectly safe inside it, right? At least safer than being outside, mobile, and able to see what was coming at me, right?
My team bailed out to their assigned positions without a backward glance, leaving me feeling a bit betrayed. The Hum-V was probably the safest for a summoner that couldn't do much more than walk, but alone it was claustrophobic in here.
The privacy did give me all the time and space I needed to easily implement plan B at least, and I wouldn't even be called on it immediately.
Something all summoners could do, was summon more than one demon. Our familiar was the one we could summon easiest, having forged shortcuts into our contract (which made it exclusive), but theoretically a summoner could summon any number of demons. Well, provided their sanity held out, that is.
I didn't have to worry about any of that. According to Grex my contract included being able to summon any demon he used to be able to command, and the ability to do it the same way I could with him, provided I knew their names. So far, I knew the names of two. Two demons that he highly recommended as being willing to help me should I need it. And since the other part of my contract included either greatly reduced stress or none at all involved in summoning Grex, I was willing to take the chance that it included other demons as well. Even if I was wrong, then the stress involved couldn't be as bad as dealing with it as a normal summoner, as Grex wouldn't be adding to it.
I can't believe I just thought of such a thing as a 'normal' summoner. The fact that I also didn't include myself in what was normal for a summoner was probably also telling. I'd worry about it later.
“Abnex, veni huc! Sarex, Veni huc!”
Grex had been very adamant that if I summoned them at all, I was to summon them together. He painted a horrifying picture of one left alone to their own devices.
They appeared simultaneously, a boy and a girl with night black wings and matching wide grins revealing needle teeth. They had matching cruel expressions, which smoothed upon seeing me. One wore a blood-spattered and ragged yellow peasant dress with holes cut in to allow her wings freedom, and the other wore a blood-spattered dingy white shirt and black dress pants. I couldn't for the life of me tell which was supposed to be which.
I straightened up; showing weakness would be a death sentence here. I hadn't even drawn a hasty protection circle. I was counting on Grex's word alone that they would be friendly. Their grins widened as they realized who I was.
“Well, it's about time!” the girl said.
“We've been waiting for ages to meet you!” The boy said.
They crowded in and before I could move, the girl hopped up and pulled my hood down. I had my knife out ready to cut, but they stopped.
I heard a twin gasp of awe.
“…so beautiful….”
“Sorry, milady, my sister is an idiot. I'm Abnex, and she's Sarex. So, how can we humble servants help you today?”
There was nothing. I had felt the power drain, which was not insubstantial in my current condition, but the pressure that every summoner I had ever talked to had described to me? It was negligible. I could feel it, but I had just summoned two noble (after a fashion) demons at once without any sort of buffer at all, and barely felt what should have been a hand squeezing into a fist around my gray matter.
It just wasn't.
It felt as if another presence was sharing a portion of my head with me, and it wasn't a bad feeling at all. Odd yes, but not bad. It also seemed as if the twins counted as one presence; something that also struck me as a little odd. But compared to myself 'a little odd' was normal.
The twins had backed off, and were staring at me intently. Well, perhaps some name dropping would help.
“Grex suggested I call you if I needed help, and I do. How good are both of you at sorcery?”
They shared a look and Abnex spoke.
“Well, I'm better at it. What spells do you need cast?”
Sarex leaned forward eagerly and timed her interruption perfectly in that way twins had.
“Do you finally need us to help you take over the world?”
Her brother punched her without missing a beat.
“Um… no? I need help with corralling a Succubus.”
Way to go, idiot. Sound more hesitant and confused; that's a perfect way to end up dead. Grex was too far away to help me if these two decided I was a snack. I could get one with my knife if I struck fast, but the other would easily gut me. Maybe both would.
But instead of murderous, they looked disappointed. And chimed together, in perfect chorus:
“Oh, is that all?”
Somehow that made me even more uneasy.
“She's... supposed to be really good with spells?”
Abnex took charge again.
“Alright. So the plan is I go and back Grex up, right? And Sarex stays here and guards you?”
I nodded. It might already be too late, but I wasn't going to show any more weakness.
“Alright, that's how we'll play it then. Sis, behave. I mean it. Milady, by your leave.”
And he bowed low and left, not bothering with the door; just phasing through it. Sarex took advantage of the distraction and sat down next to me, uncomfortably close, in Conners chair. Her perfume was the salty copper of old blood and mixed with some kind of oil or incense I couldn't place. I blinked as her side pressed into mine, and looked over.
Her face was inches away, looking up at mine, lips parted slightly to allow her fevered pants to escape. She looked for all the world like a love struck pre-teen… with very sharp needle like teeth. I was about to edge away when she leaned into me with a contented sigh, resting her head on my breast of all things and tightening her little arms around me. She was much stronger than her frame suggested.
I rubbed her hair and she relaxed as the noise outside started. The explosions and shouting didn't seem to phase her at all. Her hair was soft and clean, with feathers worked into it… and she was snotting up my robe.
“Conners come in. Conners, come in.”
Great, my radio hadn't survived the tackle; I could feel my earpiece free of all wirey constraint.
And of course, Sarex had to make it even more awkward.
“You smell nice. What sort of perfume do you use? Do you use shampoo for your hair? How did you get your boobs so big? I want boobs this big too. Well, if I ever grow; otherwise I wouldn't be able to walk. And I'd trip and fall over all the time. Do you wear makeup?”
“Uh… sometimes?”
It was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake the moment I said it, but it was already too late to take it back.
“Oh really?!? What kinds? I like to use the old school stuff, you know, Kohl and Henna, but I've been looking at the modern stuff, you know, ground up animals and rust, and it seems to work better. But I'm really kind of jealous because besides looking paler than a bled corpse your skin is amazing! Totally flawless. The hair is a nice touch too; you could probably steal Helen of Troy's act if you wanted, even if everyone knew you were a summoner. After all, there are cults for those kinds of things, and who are we to judge, eh?”
And she planted a sharp elbow in my side in conspiratorial fashion… then went back to nuzzling me. She was still talking of course, but with her face shoved where it was, I couldn't understand a thing. It was a good thing my robes had protections, or she'd probably be biting me somewhere sensitive.
The Hum-V chose that moment to chime like a gong and rock as if it didn't weigh three tons. Sarex looked up from where she'd been drooling on my robe, seeming to look through the roof of the vehicle itself.
“That Succubus is a dumb one. Seems to think she can actually take on my Grex and my brother.”
“You can see through the car?”
She sniffed.
“Hardly, but that was an offensive spell. You don't throw around something like that while running away. Well I suppose you could, but it would be a tragic waste of power. Likely she just saw what kind of demons we were and thought she could overpower us. Succubi are arrogant like that.”
I thought it more likely the demon in question was feeling the heat from being pinched between forces, but I wasn't going to say anything. If I did she might stop talking sense and go back to drooling on me. Or maybe she would anyway, and I was just doomed. Quick, think of something!
“Either her aim was off, or she was aiming for me.”
Sarex didn't look away.
“What makes you say that?”
Grex wouldn't put himself in front of me, placing me in the line of fire, and then dodge. So she wasn't aiming at him, he would be somewhere else making a show. Your brother would likely be following Grex's lead, so the Succubus probably suspects where I am, and took a shot at me.”
Which meant Grex would do his best to destroy her utterly; something I'd dearly like to see and confirm. But looking out the windows was dangerous; as it was, the demon only suspected I was there. If I confirmed it by showing my face….
I really felt too tired to move right now, or I'd already be outside. Another blast shook the Hum-V. What was even going on out there? What was taking so long?
I was half up before I realized it. I only realized it when I was gently pushed back down.
“Don't worry about it, Milady, Grex and my bothersome brother have things under control. They won't be overcome by some silly sow of a succubus.”
Sarex was one of those word player type demons, it seemed. She was also stronger than she looked, but I was wise to that. The real issue was she seemed to have more weight backing her at the moment than it appeared, so I wasn't really going anywhere.
Seeing as I was good and stymied, I decided to get some reading in. I couldn't read work related stuff on my pad since that would be a major security breach, but regular novels and technical manuals I could do. I settled on a book I'd downloaded and hadn't really had time to read… a fantasy thing.
I'd read the first page four times when the door to the Hum-V was wrenched open.
Sarex was there in an instant, a knife almost as large as she was (or was that a short sword?) in her hand. It settled around the neck of Conners, who stared at it in slack astonishment.
“Hm, a human, or at least she appears so. One of yours, Milady?”
I nodded in a hurry.
“Yes, she's my boss.”
Behind Conners I heard Abnex; he sounded vaguely exasperated.
“See I told you, you should have let me go in first! My sister is in there, I said. She's crazy, I said….”
Sarex grinned sweetly as she put the knife… somewhere. I didn't pay too much attention where, for my own sanity. One minute it was there, the next it was gone. There was still more than a hint of menace in that smile, directed at her brother. She opened her mouth and Conners voice cut through the noise.
“Snow.”
“Yes, Conners?”
“These two with you? That one said they were, and Grex wouldn't attack him. We couldn't contact you.”
Oh, crap. This was beyond bad.
“Yes, they are with me. I summoned them as back up through a preexisting contract.”
Technically it WAS preexisting, and in their minds it would be a good excuse as to why there were no circles or blood around; I'd already done that part. After all, summoners did this sort of thing all the time. Summon a demon and set up a contract for later emergency use, then call them as you would your own. It was pretty draining, but some summoners were able to do it without going insane. A few.
“Meet Abnex, and Sarex. They came highly recommended.”
I pointed to each in turn. Behind Conners and Culling, Behind Abnex, I could see Grex holding up a small… flash card? It said:
“Abnex did not reveal himself to the mortals until after your vehicle was hit.”
It gave me enough information to lie on. Knowing that I could say I summoned both in fear of my life after the Hum-v was nailed with… whatever it was. Doing so would avoid any kind of trouble.
I shook my head at Grex, just a little wiggle but Culling picked it up and profiled around until my demon was in sight, hand not quite on his weapons. He was very jumpy. Grex's hands were empty, and he raised them along with an eyebrow. The flash card had disappeared.
“Look, I'm sorry. I should have warned you all about these two, but….”
This wasn't easy to say; I took a deep breath and plunged onward.
“I'm crazy, and paranoid. So I took the chance and summoned them. I didn't want any of us to get hurt, and backup is always good, and they were under my complete control the entire time, and….”
Conners waved me down.
“It's fine, It's fine, I get it. It's just, it would have been less of a heart attack to us all if that one hadn't just appeared out of nowhere. If not for the fact that he hit the target, we would have lit him up to.”
Without backup, they wouldn't have gotten far with that, and they knew it. It was then I noticed the demon behind them; an imp, low power, and contracted to someone… I couldn't remember the imps name, or the owners right offhand. The guy we were sent to relieve. I was too tired to deal with this, really; I could barely remember my own name by this point. I held up my earpiece and comms unit, still in two pieces.
“I probably would have done better at it, but apparently I suck at wiring.”
I didn't tell her it was broken by a demonic tackle hug. It was bad enough that by the looks on their faces, both Grex and Abnex suspected; I wouldn't be confirming to anyone.
“Noted. And I did order you to stay put and out of sight. But for next time, you're getting training on how to use the Hum-V radio.”
I had a thought, rattling around my empty head-space.
“That would be a good idea, yes. Maybe requisition a few replacements for all the Hum-V's?”
Conners shook her head.
“We used to do that, but then someone broke into one of the Hum-V's and stole a few. Used them to listen in to our orders and movements, and held an ambush for a couple summoners.”
None of the team would meet my eyes. So, it hadn't been long, and I had likely been the replacement for that summoner. A moment of respect for whoever it had been and I spoiled it with a yawn.
“Sorry! Sorry, I….”
Conners used the excuse to change the subject, raising her hands. Unnoticed by anyone else Sarex's arms tightened on me a little.
“No, it's fine, it's fine. You have three demons summoned at the same time, and you were tired before. Add in the post fight stress, and it's a wonder you're still awake. Send the minions back where they came and take a load off; first round of whatever you want is on me.”
That sounded like a good idea.
“Abnex, Sarex, vade in domum tuam.”
“Roger boss. Don't be a stranger.”
Again, they tag teamed the sentence. It was weird, I'd never actually known twins to do that before.
And of course without the support Sarex had been giving me I staggered a bit before getting back to my seat. At least I managed to wave Grex off before he went through everyone to get to me. Conners was the first one there.
“You alright, Snow?”
I gave her a thumbs up.
“Just tired. Moving seems optional right now.”
Everyone else piled in. Grex curled up beside me since he didn't have a seat. I should probably send him home too, but he really wasn't draining any power to stay. I felt more safe with him here, in any case. I leaned close to Conners, who was still eying me.
“The other team?”
“There were… casualties. No deaths.”
My next breath was sharper than I'd intended.
“Who?”
“Dolph, West, and Charlie. Charlie is expected to be fine, West is bad but expected to make a full recovery, and Dolph is critical.”
Well, shit.
“Any other demons sighted?”
In a day with two in the same hour, I wouldn't put anything past today. Conners made sure we were all strapped in.
“Only ours. You going to be alright? We still have a job to do, and a patrol to finish.”
Of course, the standby team was screwed, so right now the higher ups would be calling in off duty personnel to pick up the slack; meanwhile we were still on the clock. Whether I was up to it or not.
“Right. Can you keep me updated on how they are? Dolph and the others, I mean?”
She nodded, sinking back with a sigh in her own seat, and beginning to check her gear for the second time in a half-hour. The others followed suit, leaving Judge to drive; when Conners was done with hers, she checked his weapons too.
Kind of surprised me, actually; I didn't think Judge was the type to let someone else do that for him. But I guess since it was still in sight and he was watching in the rear-view mirror, it was fine by him.
We drove for some distance before I felt up to paying attention to my surroundings again, and by the time I recognized where we were, the Hum-V was pulling into the Hister memorial hospital. Hister was an old Senator, and the lone reason we should remember him was he secured the funding for the hospital.
The hospital itself was just run of the mill standard architecture for hospitals; at least it matched the facade and plan of all other hospitals I'd seen or been to. There weren't even any gargoyles out front or anything; no color to the place at all.
Maybe I was a bit spoiled by where I lived now. Maybe I should run down those thoughts, and cage them or something. And maybe I should wonder why we are at the nearest hospital.
Conners answered before I could ask… with a wink.
“Our patrol route just happened to take us by the hospital our team was taken to. Not our fault at all that our poor battered transport finally chose this moment to break down, right?”
“Nope, not at all!”
We all piled in the hospital, silent but obvious. People gave us a wide berth, and some ran away flat out. They had heard the sirens earlier; I would guess. Of course, the runners were the stupid ones; they could be running right into the situation they feared. The smarter thing to do would be to stay in an open area with a good field of view, and as close to us as possible. Oh well, any panic caused here was on Conners head, not mine; she had made the call.
At least I had recovered enough to walk now; I swear, I was never slowing time like that again. At least not until the next time I needed to. Definitely not for as long as I had, or as often. Enough, whatever; right now wasn't about me.
“Looking for a few police officers, just brought in.”
The nurse on duty looked just as weary as I felt, and not nearly as shocked as the would be patients around us. She just answered us with a halfhearted glare, probably because we chased a few people out of line without trying. She spent me a special glare with more heat in it.
“Fourth floor, rooms 416, 420, and 422. Please be quiet, people are resting.”
Yeah, I could feel the love.
Conners gave her a glare in return before leading us all off. While I was silent, my team was anything but, stomping around without a visible care in the world. I was a little touched by the show, and not fooled at all by the nonchalant faces. We rode the elevator up alone; listening to the muzak. Judge even tapped his foot to it; I didn't recognize it myself.
The fourth floor was full of cops. Scratch that, the fourth floor was absolutely packed full of them, leaving maybe a two feet strip in the center of the hall to navigate in. The ones on the outer edges of the people ball had assault weapons out and hard eyes, scanning the stairs, the elevators, and the windows. I was the only summoner present, which made me a little… tense? Why should I feel tense, surrounded by my peers?
Room 416 held Dolph, and he was by far the worst off. The police were being kept out of the room by a very large and very irate nurse, who looked able to throw a healthy Dolph around. I couldn't see much because if all the machines in the way. The captain wasn't here yet, which probably shouldn't have surprised me, but did. I had absolutely no doubt that he was on his way. I turned to Pearce.
“How is he?”
“Well, hes missing his spleen, some of his intestines, and they aren't sure they can save his arm. So… about that good.”
Wow. At least Pearce didn't sugar coat anything. He was still in shock it seemed, and I didn't blame him. Conners was beyond any such thing now.
“So what happened?”
Technically Pearce was Conners senior, and didn't have to answer here. He did anyway, loudly enough for all of us to hear.
“Dolph was covering Aims. They set up on a rooftop, with Aims covering Charlie as he went in. The target managed to figure out what Charlie was up to, and where Aims was. She just ran to the roof up the fire escape, and Dolph engaged while Aims repositioned.”
Which meant Aims ran like hell.
“He got a few good licks in but came up short. Charlie managed to drive her off, and we sent your team to intercept while Charlie's imp followed. I made the decision to get our wounded medical attention, so we taped them up and brought them here.”
It sounded almost as if he were rehearsing; he probably was. The captain would want to hear this, in detail.
Conners wasn't happy with the confession; it could be because of the injuries, but it was more likely because Pearce's actions left her team out to dry. And that after we had fought a demon already ourselves.
As for me, since I couldn't get any closer to Dolph, I decided to go one room down.
West didn't have any strong nurses in her room; she did have more than a few watchful cops in it, but they let me right through. The general atmosphere of the room seemed different, but I wasn't sure what it was. A few of the cops were less than composed, however, and weren't looking at West as she lay in the bed, cussing. A large cast was around her leg, still glistening a little in the bright lighting. I couldn't help myself; she seemed so… annoyed.
“What happened to you?”
She looked up, finally noticing me for the first time.
“Oh nothing, I just broke my damn leg is all.”
Wait a minute.
“You broke your leg? Not the demon?”
She sighed and shook her head, glaring at the cops backs as they started to shake.
“Yes, I broke my damn leg. I was with Charlie, opening the doors he needed to bypass in order to do his thing. We managed to sneak around and were heading up the stairs when she came down to us. Charlie and I jumped out a hall window, and while Charlie hit the dumpster at the bottom, I missed it. The target breezed right past us, and just left us there.”
Well, that was lucky, if odd. Should I just sit on my next question, or ask away? A person who wasn't worried about appearances would ask.
“What do you think the demon was after?”
West looked up and frowned.
“Us. Or at least, Charlie's demon, specifically. She had caused a mess in an office building, just enough to get a call, then waited. She didn't move until we got there, and when she did move it was straight at Charlie and me. We dove, she took a swipe at Charlie as she went by, but she didn't slow at all, just chased the imp towards Aims. Dolph held her while Aims got out, I guess. Not sure why she left, unless it was to chase the imp again.”
That… was a little disturbing. Usually, the demons who showed up had clear goals or mayhem on their mind; this one's goal seemed to be the ADTF itself. So had the one we faced directly, possibly. I hadn't given it time to bunker up, after all, but it might have if we hadn't surprised it.
But why would a demon care specifically about another demon? And an imp, no less? Imps were the weakest of demons most of the time, and couldn't offer a Succubus anything at all. Charlie's demon friend was a perfect example of the breed in fact. Even putting aside the first response of most demons when they spotted ADTF (run or attack, according to the manual), this just didn't make any sense at all.
And while I could see deferring to wiser heads than mine to solve the mystery, it was clear West was just as confused as I was. She was pretty experienced, and if she hadn't seen or heard of it before, the behavior was new.
“Well, Get better soon.”
It sounded lame to me as soon as I said it, but my people skills were never that good to begin with; we both knew it would take her months to recover from a break as bad as this one seemed to be, at least fully.
A room over Charlie lay, bandages around his chest. He was conscious and reading, take it easy with only the occasional wince as he turned a page. With his robe off he looked normal enough; just a young dark skinned man with dark hair and bad acne. There wasn't a single cop or anyone else in the room with him.
“So… how are you?”
He carefully looked over, and his face brightened.
“Perforated. The bitch slashed me good as she went by, chasing Yansen. Went through all the skin, but didn't go through anything else, so some stitches, and I get some cool scars to tell the ladies about.”
Yansen was the name of his imp, I remember now. With those kinds of injuries he was looking at weeks to heal, but that wasn't too bad.
“Good.”
“So, what brings you here? Get the bitch?”
I nodded. Now really wasn't the time to chide him for his use of language, no matter how much I wanted to. Even though he was being loud in general, no nurses came in to check.
“Yeah, we got her. I managed to pull a twofer.”
His smile was genuine, and so was the grimace after.
“Not bad for a rookie.”
“Maybe, just don't ask for the hat trick; I'm wiped, here. You look to be in pain, need some meds?”
His response angered me.
“Nah, they won't give us anything but locals if we get shredded, and I've already had that. The powers that be don't want us becoming addicts.”
“Well that's just stupid. You're in pain. Do they pull this sort of crap in the army?”
“No actually, just here. Ir's fine, I'd rather be awake and in full command of my senses anyway.”
It took me awhile to get it; this was THAT hospital. The one where the last summoner to die, died. It had to be, given the way he was looking around, taking everything in. Hm, how to fix this… I opened one of the pockets in my robe; if his was missing, then perhaps he didn't have the piece of chalk I tossed at him.
“Hey, thanks. My stuff got wrecked in the attack.”
I made good my escape before the hero worship, or awe, or whatever it was got too strong for me to handle.
“Well, got to go, stay safe.”
I waved and managed to suppress the shudder until I got outside; I wasn't sure what his eyes had been doing there, but undressing me seemed to be the least of it. Luckily no one else noticed; they were too bust staring at the Captain, who had a good head of steam, coming down the hall. The first words he said were directed at us, with an absolutely bright and sunny yet heart-stoppingly terrifying smile.
“Patrolling the hospital, right? You're done with the rounds here, now. Get going.”
We got going.
On the elevator down I realized something though; we were missing Conners.
“Where's Conners?”
Judge answered first; I guess rank had it's privileges.
“She's downstairs; she'll be waiting for us in the lobby.”
Since he seemed to be more predisposed to speak than Roddy or Culling, I asked him directly.
“That go about how you expected it to?”
“What, you mean upstairs, with the Captain? Yeah, pretty much. We technically did have a reason to patrol here, after all. We had wounded too; ours were just able to walk in.”
The elevator doors opened and as if to punctuate his words, Conners was there, sporting a few new bandages. She also had someone next to her, dressed in scrubs. She wasted no time invading my personal space and dragging me into a room.
“Whoa, lady, not that kind of girl!”
Conners looked way to amused for this. At least the door stayed open.
“Shut up and hold still.”
She pulled my robe back from my face, then my throat, then my hands.
“No aches or pains anywhere?”
“No, ma'am; I'm just tired.”
“About that; any uncomfortable sensations, like headaches or joint issues? Head wrapped in wool?”
Instantly I flashed back to my dream after my date, when I got my last earring.
“No ma'am, nothing like that.”
“Don't ma'am me, my names Judy.”
She looked up, staring into my eyes for what seemed forever. Then she shook, once, like a wet dog.
“Your check up is now complete. She's fine Conners.”
Judy all but shoved me out of the room.
“Any problems, you call me. Or better yes, call Karen or Conners, and they will call me. Enjoy your day.”
She slammed the door in my face.
Wait a minute, this sort of behavior was sort of predictable… I turned to my team, already walking out.
“Former summoner?”
Conners nodded with a grin.
“Yep, and a world class medic. She got a sort of diagnosis power from her pact. It's spotty as all hell, but when it works it does the job. It just worked, and she pronounced you fit for duty. Odd, really; it seems to work for summoners more often than normal people. But gift horses and all that.”
“So, she kept the power?”
No way would she be posted in a hospital with her contract still up.
“Yep, no one really knows why, and she isn't saying, but she kept that power, and only that power. No one knows for sure, but probably the Corps didn't really know what to do with her, so they kept her enlisted but stationed her here.”
“Well, she has crazy down. With her bedside manner, it's amazing she's still employed.”
Culling, of all people, spoke for her.
“She's good at her job. Many things can be forgiven if you are.”
Truer words.
We made it to the car and I poured myself into my seat. Any longer and I'd have probably sat down on the sidewalk. When I looked at my pad, a new show was downloaded on it. Conners looked at me with another grin. I rolled my eyes and hit play.
Turns out the next morning wasn't any better than yesterday. Oh, there were no more demon attacks yesterday, but I had been on call for the first time ever while off shift. I was beginning to get an idea of what a grind my forced job could be, even above and beyond all the training. But it wasn't my day off, and Grex was tickling my feet.
Why was Grex tickling my feet?
“Grex, what are you doing here, exactly? I didn't call for you.” I know I hadn't called for him.
“You did not, but our contract did. You were in some danger, so I came as required.”
He was still tickling my feet, so I kicked them out but missed him. At least it forced him to stop. The grin was a little much, though.
“Where's my coffee?” If he was waking me up, he better have my coffee.
“In the kitchen, of course.” Grex was a smartass.
“Grex, go make me some coffee, the way I prefer it.” He left; that should keep him from doing something weird to it. A look at the clock showed the alarm was off – and I was twenty minutes late.
Where was Karen? Normally she woke me up by now. I was going to be late for work, which given the amount of scrutiny I was currently under wouldn't be good for me. Or maybe I was just being too paranoid. I really did feel terrible, though; I needed more sleep or something.
I sped up time to shower, dress, and brush my hair; even covering the shower water it was easy. Maybe even easier than it should have been. I made it into the kitchen to find a mug waiting at my usual spot, and Grex nursing one of his own across from me.
“Alright Grex, now explain; why am I in danger?”
He grinned at me again. “Not am, were. There are multiple demons about, my master. Therefore, you are in danger, even here, no matter how slight. You were also having certain… problems with your power last night; it was fluctuating. I was therefore bound to check in, don't you agree?”
If he wasn't lying to me (and he couldn't, I had to remind myself of that) then his presence made sense, but it felt like a stretch. I couldn't call the apartment safe at all, but it was probably the safest place for a summoner in a city. I could deal with a bit of mother hen hovering; I might even make some jokes about it later; the other comment was a bit more worrying.
“Problems with my power? Like what?”
Grex tapped his ear, so I checked mine. They were clear, felt normal to me, but maybe the fact that they were missing the earrings he gave me was the problem. He wanted me to wear them at all times, even sleeping, and I'd been humoring him. I hadn't ripped an earlobe off yet, so I counted that as a win.
“I went to sleep with them, like normal. No idea where they are now.”
He nodded. “I have them; I had to take them off in order to siphon some unregulated power from you properly; I couldn't use the method I'd used before.”
Well, that was a little surprising. “Why not?”
I knew right away he was going to evade the question.
“I cannot say.” I hate being right.
Whatever. “Fine, so when can I get my earrings back? They weren't on the nightstand.”
He got up, marched the two steps required, and pulled them from his pocket. I stopped him.
“Get the peroxide; I've no idea what else has been in those pockets.”
He smirked but complied.
“Has Karen been here?”
“Not today.” Grex yelled back from the bathroom.
I really didn't have much time at all, even with all the time I'd just saved. I grabbed a granola bar and chewed mechanically while Grex put the earrings back where he'd found them.
Once he was done I grabbed my robe and threw it on, racing out the door; I could clean up later. Grex was right behind me. The apartment building was pretty empty; even more than normal for the early hour. I barely had to dodge anyone. Even the lobby and coffee shop was light on people; barely fifteen between the two.
The day was nice; bright, sunny, and balmy with just a hint of heat and a nice breeze. I kept the windows down as I drove, and Grex leaned out his window with his tongue out like a dog most of the way, to the amusement of kids and adults alike. If only they knew.
I pulled into my reserved space and took the elevator up with a good ten minutes to spare; who knew that simply speeding up a shower and getting dressed could save more time than speeding up my commute could? It was kind of unreal; I'd need to watch it, I could easily become lazy.
The office was humming with activity. Magilla, who had arms about like one would expect from the name, hair and all, was using an honest to God typewriter to type out reports. From what I could tell, he was doing it badly. It didn't look like he was getting ready to go out, so that honor was probably mine. The other members of my team were all present and accounted for. They all looked at me as I came in.
Sitting at my desk was the written order sending me out today. I was supposed to be given a day at the office after one of patrolling, especially after demonic contact, but with Charlie laid up that plan was apparently out the window.
At least it meant I wouldn't have to figure out what happened to the documents that were supposed to be in my inbox; the last time it was empty, an enterprising summoner (no one told me exactly who) had made them all paper airplanes and sailed them around the room. Repeatedly; for hours.
Coffee got plunked down onto my desk; there was Karen, coming from nowhere as usual. She even had the grace to look a little apologetic.
“Sorry, I got called in early to help shuffle staff around. Got everything handled, but you're still going out again.”
I very carefully did not think any jinxing thoughts. The coffee was delivered; I think it was from the coffee shop I'd stopped in from my first encounter. Karen's next jibe when she noticed me noticing confirmed it.
“The delivery guy volunteered to come to the station; according to the desk sergeant, he kept looking around for his 'silver haired goddess'.”
Grex stifled a laugh behind me.
I took a sip; the brew was acceptable; a bit strong for me normally, but I needed it today.
“Alright, So long as Magilla files my reports from yesterday, I'm good with going out.”
Magilla shot me the look of the betrayed as Karen agreed, and I headed back down to the garage. My team would join me soon enough. Grex followed. As for Magilla, well, I knew what he did with my glue; and he deserved the payback.
“Am I still in danger, Grex?”
His response did not surprise me. “Most certainly, my mistress.”
He was probably being overprotective. I hoped he was.
I didn't have to wait long, but long enough to realize I'd forgotten my pad today. I almost sent Grex home for it, but I knew whatever travel method he used wouldn't be instant, so my phone would have to do; something was up, and I wanted my back watched. The team filed down, all present and accounted for and uninjured. Conner slapped a new radio unit into my hand as I climbed in the transport first, Grex on my heels.
It really was new; it still had that new tech shine to it. I set it up after belting in, and we were off.
“No pad today?”
“No such luck, Culling. Forgot it at home.”
Conner grinned. “Cords is going to be crushed! I bet he had some sort of thing all set up for you.”
I think I managed to control my blush. “Well if there was something, I don't know about it. I was supposed to be pushing papers today.”
Judge grimaced. “Don't remind me; so was I, and I think I got some extra.”
Probably from West and Dolph, who weren't in any shape to do their own. Best to avoid getting closer to that. Last I heard they were fine, but I hadn't checked yet this morning.
“Well, I got to con mine off on Magilla, per Karen.”
“Serves him right for the glue thing. That was a hell of a mess to clean up.”
“Couldn't agree more Roddy.” I was, after all, right next to you cleaning.
We pulled out and into traffic and Grex handed me my coffee. I wasn't aware he'd actually had it; I realized I had left it in the parking garage. What was wrong with me today? I was never this forgetful. Had the attacks from yesterday done something to me? Or the exhaustion afterward?
Or maybe I just forgot. No sense driving myself crazy; I could ask later.
“So, any reason Grex is out?”
I thought about it; no reason they couldn't know. “Well, according to him I'm in some danger, so he's hanging out and watching my back. The contract calls for it.”
I watched them tense, and I could understand. If I was in danger, then they were too, just by being close to me. Even the various terrorist groups made little distinction between ADTF rank and file and summoners. Demons paid even less attention of course. It was probably best to clarify.
“I'm pretty sure he's just talking about the increased incidents of demons in the city, and doesn't have any concrete information.” I looked at Grex for confirmation.
He wasted no time in giving it. “Quite so. I merely feel it best to err on the side of caution.”
He smirked at the collective sighs of relief. My team knew now that Grex couldn't lie, so if said he knew nothing, he knew nothing. Didn't mean we were in the clear, but Grex had also watched me with nothing going on, so I was inclined to believe he was just being overprotective. Well, I was hoping, anyway.
We drove around for a good hour, with Judge behind the wheel. Cords sent me a few texts, which I returned. (Take a phone call in a crowded vehicle with a bunch of gossipy cops listening to half the convo? No way!) He didn't want to send me anything on the phone, he felt the screen was too small for any of that. I could see everything on it just fine, even proved it by listing off things in an image he sent (my eyesight was very good), but he was adamant.
“Trouble in paradise?”
I knew if I responded to Conner's 'subtle' jab, she'd never let it go. “No, just discussing what to check out next. I forgot my pad. He want's to watch some vampire drama or other.”
Conner rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh yes, cause those are always fun.”
I couldn't agree more, normally. “I don't know, he says its supposed to be closer to “Nosferatu” than Ed and Bella.”
If true that would be a relief, although I wasn't sure I wanted to see bloodsucking in all it's glory. I got enough of that at work.
Judge finally pulled into the park we were at yesterday, just as Cords updated me on the condition of West, Dolph, and Charlie: they were fine, at least for various levels of fine, and healing up.
“How about you drive for a bit, Conner?”
“Sure Judge, but let's take five for now. I've got to use the little girls room something fierce.”
She hurried off while Judge and I shook our heads. As was standard procedure for us, we all got out in order to stretch our legs, so we wouldn't get in each others way. That made me last, behind a very watchful Grex.
I was out of coffee now. I threw the empty cup in a trash can and started stretching.
There were a few kids in the park today, and those kids had parents. The kids were laughing and playing around, the adults were watching us all warily. I guess they wanted to know if it was time to run. I waved at them, and one, a young mother, visibly flinched. Grex looked normal, so that left me. Unless… I looked at Grex, and he looked back. Nope, he looked normal. Unless he smiled he looked more normal than I did; so she was flinching because I waved.
Now that I was limber again, I walked over to Judge and Conner, who were in the middle of discussing routes.
“I can drive, if you want.” It was better than doing nothing.
Conner Shook her head. “Can't. It's against regs for the summoner to drive the team. One flipped out while driving a while back and took out her team by ramming a transformer.”
Well, crap. One nut-bar ruining things for the rest of us nut-bars. Who would have thought? At least now I knew why I was always seated in the back while we were moving. Easier to keep an eye on and potentially stop. Heck, there were probably orders to that effect.
When we got back in, Conner was driving. Judge was in Conner's seat, which I should have realized faced mine for a reason. Watching me; which was why Grex was watching him. Not that I had anything to hide, other than the occasional text.
So we drove around and wasted gas at the taxpayer's expense, being the professional rapid response unit, until lunch time. Lunch time found us in a drive-thru, with Sarah ordering. It was he burger barn, oddly enough, the same one that got hit what was it? A year ago? I wondered idly if it would ever stop being the burger barn that got attacked in my mind. Probably not.
“I'll take seven burger bomb specials, one grilled chicken sandwich, and a family bucket of fries to go.” It was a good thing I liked the burger bomb; she didn't even ask.
That aside she ordered too much for all of us; the burger bombs were big, and I doubted any human could eat two and live. Conner confirmed the plan for me when she just took the bags from the croggled drive-thru guy and passed them back. I wish I'd at least been told the plan was to sneak fast food into the hospital; I could help.
“So, hospital?” Judge nodded over the food; one hand slowly reaching in….
Conners called back without even looking. “Judge, keep those hands out of the fries. Culling, that goes double for you.”
Judge held his hands up in surrender while Culling glared an imaginary hole in her head. “I wasn't touching shit!”
Roddy grinned and finally broke his silence. “Yeah, but you were thinking about it. I saw you.”
I'd been a little worried about Roddy; he'd been pretty silent today. But if he could joke and smile, I guess he was fine.
“Up yours, Roddy.” I didn't have to worry about Culling at all.
We headed to the hospital, and this time the nurses and security didn't even give us a second look. Well, aside from the bags we sported; none called us on it, though. Back to team two's set of rooms, and West and Dolph's still very crowded rooms. Of course, the other cops had also brought gifts, but none so hot and greasy as ours. Dolph was first, and Culling placed it on his chest.
Dolph had to work to get it, but he did. I was worried he'd tear something he went after it so fast. Next door West had an easier time of things. I wanted to stay and talk, but there were still too many people in the room, and I hadn't dismissed Grex, so he was getting some looks. Not exactly hostile, but wary.
Conner came back out and handed me one last bag. “If you would, could you give that to Charlie?”
I took it. With my own bag (I wasn't eating in our transport, not when I knew I'd have time later) that made my hands full. I wasn't sure I liked having both hands full.
“Sure.”
Charlie's room was empty again today. He was at least conscious, reading a paper of all things, and I could tell he was listening with at least one ear to the conversations taking place next door. There weren't even flowers. I took a breath and stormed in right as he heard me.
“Real foods on!”
I set the bag on his food tray (placed in the corner near the door) and wheeled it over to him. He looked… better.
He had enough energy to raise a skeptical eyebrow in my direction anyway. “Burger Barn, really?”
I nodded. “Lunch of champions.”
He sighed. “Let me guess; Conner drove?”
Hm, evidently there was a story there. “Yes, she did. How are you?”
He replied around a mouthful of burger. Seems he didn't hate the stuff at least. “Better. I'll likely still be a few weeks recovering, but I should make a mostly full recovery.”
Better than Dolph. For all the man's forced joviality, his arm was still touch and go. Even if they saved it, he would likely lose some use of it, and if he did his career as an ADTF agent was over.
The ADTF did have a pretty fantastic benefits package, though, including the best coverage for people injured in the line of duty in the world. As good as summoner retirement, really. Charlie just waited silently; he was probably having similar thoughts himself.
Well almost silently. He wasn't shy or quiet about stuffing his face.
I followed suit but with actual manners, and slightly less mess; only so much you can do when eating a huge burger with your hands anyway. There was nothing in the room, same as yesterday, and the television was off.
“So, you looked kind of bored when I walked in, got anything to do?”
He shook his head. “Nah. West wheeled herself in here earlier and we played a card game called Uno, but nothing since. The paper is yesterday's.”
Right, I could fix that. “Alright, I'll be right back.”
The gift shop was three floors down and taking the back stairs gave me solitude along with the exercise. I was almost down to the shop when I realized I forgot to ask what type of book Charlie liked. Luckily I remembered just in time that he had some detective novels on his desk at the office, and they had looked well worn when I saw them, so the latest detective novels should do.
I grabbed the three newest and swiped my card through the reader as the clerk rang them up; she didn't even bat an eye at my presence, like the nurses. It was almost weird, after being stared at by just about everyone for so long.
I knew my memory had been right on target for the first time today when Charlie almost brightened. He perked up as much as any summoner eight years in could, that is. He immediately ditched the first two and snatched the third from my hand.
“Read the other two, but this one I hadn't had a chance to grab yet. Thanks. You should read the others if you haven't yet; they are pretty good.”
Not a single thought on whether I even liked the genre; oh well, I didn't hate it, and it felt tacky to go back downstairs and demand a refund.
“Sure.”
I was saved from further social awkwardness by the bell of sorts. “Snow, haul your heiny outside! We got to go, Roddy says the Captains on his way and we need to be gone before he gets here.”
“Coming!” I yelled back. I turned to Charlie again – taking in his room again. “If you need something or need to talk, call my cell, alright? I can't promise I'll be able to drop everything, but I'll do what I can.”
He actually looked surprised at the offer for a second, dropping his disinterested look and showing a fair amount of open pain before closing back up.
“Sure, I have the number.”
I waved, and headed down the back stairs again.
Grex didn't figure it out until I ducked into the gift shop again. I headed straight to the clerk, who thankfully wasn't bust with anyone.
“Do you take orders for flowers?” I'd seen the fresh flower bundles in the corner, some already in nice vases, all ready for some last minute well wishers on my first trip down.
“Yes?”
“Good, can you ring up three bouquets, and have them all delivered an hour from now to the three cops upstairs?”
It took her a minute to figure out what I wanted, and for her eyes to uncross; she was such a blonde.
“Um, yeah we can do that. But three cops? Aren't there only two cops?”
What. “There are three; all members of the Anti-Demon Task Force.”
Nice to know she didn't consider summoners to be cops. Her face bled color as she realized who I was talking about, and who she was talking to. So she wasn't quite as blasé as she appeared. She rang the flowers up with hands that shook. As I took my card back, Grex did something from behind me and she wobbled on her feet.
Rather than deal with it, I just left. The clerk probably wouldn't appreciate me steadying her anyway, either way I could do it, and she was in a hospital; she would be fine. I also had a ride to catch.
“Grex, what did you do just now?”
“Took a step, my mistress.”
Smart-ass. “Don't play coy with me. What did you do to make the clerk almost throw up there?”
He tried to sound offended, but I could hear the amusement underneath. “Why nothing at all, my mistress. I simply smiled at the woman to put her at ease; she seemed uneasy in your presence.”
Grex's smile wouldn't put anyone at ease. He knew that.
“Grex, don't scare the normies. Well, unless I tell you to.”
He smirked as my brain caught up with my mouth. “As you say, my mistress.”
Damn it. Retro me, Satanis, or however it's said.
Everyone was already waiting with a distinct lack of patience as I made my way out to the transport. Judge and Culling were the only ones able to get in before me because they were in the front, but they were walking in circles like everyone else. Judge was probably enjoying the freedom while he could; he disliked being cramped in a vehicle. Conner was a bit angry.
“Snow, what the hell?!? Were you taking a potty break or something?”
I shook my head as I swept past them and climbed in. “No, was arranging surprise flowers.”
Conner paused in putting her belt on. “Alright, I can deal with that. Judge, punch it!”
“Hold your horses woman, I'm not even situated yet!” Came the response that I, at least, expected.
“Well, hurry it up!” And there was the other one.
We managed to make it out and away from the hospital before seeing the Captain, heading the opposite direction from where he'd drive in from… but Conner didn't relax until we were ten streets away.
“What do you think he's going to do, come from the opposite direction in an attempt to catch us?”
She nodded, completely serious. “Yes, I wouldn't put it past him.”
Culling agreed. “He's done that sort of thing before. It's just a shame that he takes lunch the same time we're scheduled to.”
I couldn't argue that; technically there was nothing wrong with what we were doing, except it made us a tiny bit predictable in our route, and that was a big no-no. I'd had that drilled into my head for far too long now – being predictable meant being dead, and that applied even to showing up at a hospital at lunch. If we did it again, the Captain would no doubt have words for us. Several words delivered at high volume.
But no such terrible thing happened, and the cops at the hospital wouldn't tell. They wouldn't lie for us, they would just change the subject and the Captain wouldn't press. Any breach of regs that you got away with was a good one. With a shrug, I cracked open the first book; I hadn't even recognized the author. Ten minutes later I was sure why.
How could a whodunit be a bestseller if you could figure it out ten minutes in? The hint as the character was introduced made it clear he was the murderer; it was just sad. The second one was better written but just as easy to figure out. I could at least stick with it, until the transport stopped. I looked up and the rest of the team was already piling out, so I followed. Well, I had to follow Grex, who thankfully went first without being told.
Once outside it was clear that we were missing an absolutely wonderful day by being cooped up in a vehicle that was no less a contained environment that the office was as it passed. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature was perhaps a touch too far on the hot side, but the wind made up for it.
Flowers were blooming, tree leaves were rustling, and birds were chirping.
We had stopped at an old highway gas station on the outskirts of town to stretch, and the late afternoon sun was marching over the desert outskirts, which we had a nice open view of. I was glad we all wore our boots; this was prime scorpion country. I did a lap around the crumbling building, taking note of how nature was reclaiming it. It looked like another twenty years and the place would fall down by itself, no help required; the desert was sandblasting it down and the most of the roof was already gone, one wall looked spongy, and all the windows were in shards.
There were some places in Europe that probably looked the same or worse. There was also probably some deep statement to be read in this - but I was busy with a murder novel.
My phone vibrated. It was Cords, wanting my opinion on some movie I'd never even heard of as a thing to watch tomorrow. I would definitely get a day in the office tomorrow; I'd kept Grex out all day (on purpose) and while I was probably due some harsh words about overtaxing myself, the rules on avoiding overexertion were clear; if a summoner had their demon out in the line of duty a certain number of hours (in our case, it was six, or almost a full shift) they were given an equal number of downtime hours.
Of course, that was usually to avoid blinding headaches and projectile pea soup vomiting (or worse) that I didn't get, but I was cheating a little. Cheating was a time honored tradition I was still getting immersed in, but one I could take advantage of. It wasn't like I needed to lie or anything for it, after all; the devil truly was in the details.
Of course, Karma could take more than one form. There wasn't an hour left to our shift when we stopped, and the call came in on my second lap.
“Let's go Snow! Demon spotted, 43rd and Pine.”
That wasn't far from here; less than ten minutes by car. I briefly thought of slowing time and hoofing it, but decided against it. Sure it would be faster, but it would leave me without the support of my team, and even if I made it in time and didn't die, they would be less than happy with me. So instead I piled back in, my team all but shoving Grex and I out of the way, and we took off.
“So, do we know anything this time?” I asked Culling; he had been the one manning the radio, after all.
“We know it's a, quote, “Cow guy” end quote. So, a minotaur or a funky looking Bal'rog.” that was a less than promising reply; either could be a real handful in a fight, being extremely tough. A minotaur supposedly soaked less damage than a Bal'rog, though, and didn't have the power over fire.
Grex could probably take one, without us even having to get out of the transport.
Three demon attacks in two days. What was even going on?
We turned onto Pine, and the demon was waiting for us. The houses in the suburb we'd turned onto were all intact; I could see the twitching of curtains from a few of the houses from here, which made no sense at all. Everybody around should already be hoofing it out via their back doors by now. The reason they weren't in cars and racing each other, was the demon was standing on the road out, pavement cracked and bubbling from the heat of it.
It was a minotaur, eight feet tall and leaning on an ax even taller than it was with a half moon blade that was worryingly large. He (it was obviously a he, the tattered loincloth he sported as clothes didn't actually hide much, to all our chagrin) was just standing there, leaning on the ax with a bored look on his cowy face. I saw no casualties, no burning homes, not even a kicked dog, after at least twelve minutes of free reign. He shifted stance and hefted his ax as we got close.
Judge stopped a hundred feet away, with our door facing away from it. Conners very carefully opened the door, and we started to tumble out, as quietly as we could. This was a very stupid idea, we should back up, reset this encounter and try stealth, but we hadn't expected the damned thing to be waiting for us. If we tried to reset now, chances were it wouldn't let us.
But he let us deploy, at least to cover around our vehicle. I risked a glance to find him still standing there, the only difference was now his ax was on fire. He actually lifted his hooves out of the now semi-liquid patch of asphalt, shaking each off with a look of disgust before taking a step, closer to us.
Well, since we were already seen, and hadn't been attacked, it pretty much fell to me.
“Grex, let's go.”
“Right behind you, my mistress.”
We stepped out and the demon's face changed expression again… to relief? He spoke, his voice sounding more like it was mixed with a goat's than anything. I somehow managed not to laugh.
“It's about time. I've been waiting entirely too long.”
So it had been waiting for us; I had been beginning to suspect that, but it was nice to have confirmation. The bad part of that is it was actually waiting for us. That meant it would be prepared for us. I felt like I was forgetting something… oh right! Snark, I was forgetting snark.
“Come on, you couldn't have been waiting that long; not a single thing in flames or dead yet.” Good going Maeve, that was easily your best effort to date!
I needed to just stop talking during life and death situations. Even the minotaur was flabbergasted for a minute – and I could tell Grex was going to be insufferable later. Still, the demon answered as if I was serious.
“Orders, you understand how it is.”
That was actually pretty telling. A probing of our defenses, checking our response times in the city perhaps? Combined with yesterday that made some sense, but it seemed like an expensive and daring game to play. An attempt on me personally? With Grex acting the way he was, and the demons yesterday that could also be the case. The minotaur shifted again.
Oh, right, I shouldn't be playing for time for this. My team probably wouldn't directly engage, not for this. I was pretty sure they were watching my back in case of traps or more demons. Time to get this show on the road, I didn't want to be in the office after five after all.
“Grex, take him down.”
“With pleasure.” Grex actually materialized a sword as he stepped forward, obviously more than willing to go hand to hand against an over-muscled cow man that had an ax that looked capable of splitting a car in half.
Seemed like an unnecessary risk to me, but Grex seemed capable of handling it, deflecting the first stroke to the side where it bit into the road to the shaft with no resistance. I was contemplating using my time trick to slap a banishment on him, but the he burst into flame, something that would actually hurt me quite a bit if I got close.
Of course, it couldn't be that easy, and I couldn't just command him with my team present and watching. That would lead to some questions I didn't want to answer, and this wasn't exactly life or death yet. Grex was doing a fair imitation of making the demon look bad already, dancing around him and opening long wounds that might eventually prove disabling. In short, he was toying with him.
I started easing my way to an angle that wouldn't include Grex in any potential line of fire, keeping an eye out for ambushes. This seemed too easy all of a sudden, and there had been two demons loose yesterday, after all. The minotaur noticed, but couldn't really do much about it but watch; he wasn't slow, but Grex was much faster, and the strength difference that probably existed just didn't seem to be telling yet.
It felt like there should be more challenge here, but there wasn't. My athame, my combat knife, flew with its time sped up and seals active. The effect when the blade cut his skin was immediate; the minotaur vanished with a scream as the binding seals discharged. A quick glance with enhanced senses proved the demon hadn't pulled a fast one; it was really gone.
Grex confirmed it by standing straight and letting his sword disappeared back to wherever he kept it. The danger, such as it was, was passed.
Unless it was another bait. “Conner, any word of anything unusual going on? Any other attacks?”
Her response was partially a relief. “None. We are good to go. Still got some patrolling to do, but I'll call in the cops and the repair crews.”
What the heck was going on?
I woke to my alarm, my eyes bleary. As always, batting the thing across the room did nothing to it. No Grex this morning, which was probably a good thing. It was a Monday, and my day off.
There had been three more demon attacks in the week. Luckily or unluckily, I hadn't been on duty or close enough to respond to them, but there had been a few more casualties and the base was starting to take notice. The last one had been on Saturday during my training and had crippled half of two full teams before it'd been put down. We were actually getting reinforcements from other nearby cities, according to Karen.
I thought it was a bad idea, the nearer cities to us were in more danger than those farther away (assuming any demons around got away from us) and cars made the distances negligible, but I wasn't in charge. It was actually putting the lie to how well prepared we were for an invasion, in my opinion; we were just stretched too thin.
But at least today, I didn't have to worry about any of that. I didn't have to worry about anything at all, in fact. This was a mandated day off and I intended to be lazy about it and do nothing at all.
I kept getting called up on my other days off – I think the brass were experimenting with how long I could keep going. Finally Karen had put her foot down as my psychiatrist, and demanded two days... but I couldn't take time off while training so I had to suffer the weekend boot camp first.
So now I wasn't going to move... for a year. I had my laptop in my bedroom and it was connected; I could watch television through it and veg.
Sarex came through the doorway as if she belonged there, a tray of steaming coffee and covered platters of food on it.
“Good morning, Summoner Snow! I made breakfast for you, I hope you like it!”
Abnex's voice carried loudly through the apartment. “You nothing! I did it and you sat and watched!”
Who had summoned them and how had they gotten in? I certainly hadn't done it. If Grex had overstepped himself somehow....
There was a single blood red rose on the tray next to the covered main course. “Who summoned you here, and how did you get in?”
How did they get in without my knowledge, even? Not even Grex could really pull that off.
“Oh, we have our ways.”
Bullshit. “You'll have to do better than that. Tell me how you got in here, and why you came.”
I put all the force I could behind the command. It did not work as I expected: Sarex dropped to her knees while tossing the tray on the bed next to me, clapping her hands together and all but screeching out:
“Yes, my Lady, command me! I am yours, your will be done!”
I focused; I could freak out about her weird reaction later; I was in danger now. Though if I was in danger, Grex should already be here.
“Answer the question.”
She answered immediately, still on her knees (where I certainly hadn't ordered her to be) and smiling up at me beatifically. “We were summoned by a power greater than yours, with the purpose of hanging out.”
What? “Hanging out.”
“Yes.” She just kept smiling, as if that answer made sense.
“And only hanging out? No other agenda?”
“Well, getting to know you, my Lady. That is the only other agenda I am privy too.”
“Hanging out and getting to know me, and nothing else?”
She nodded.
I doubted she could lie under the influence of whatever it was I could do... but there were ways around it if so.
“You will not offer any violence of word or deed to anyone in this house unless I command otherwise, do you understand?”
For the purposes of commands or spells, an apartment was considered a house or dwelling. Grex had yet to tell my why that was, or how it mattered. Her smile slipped a little, but her reply was immediate and I felt the truth of it in my bones. “I understand, My lady.”
“Good. Now, what's in the breakfast?” I didn't let up an inch. Not one centimeter; she could still be trying to poison me.
“Instant oatmeal and fresh fruit. Toast with margarine on the second platter. Coffee from your canister in the kitchen mixed with hot water.”
I looked. Maple and brown sugar oatmeal and fresh cut strawberries greeted me. Toast was where she said it was. The coffee smelled right. “No... extras? No foreign contaminants or anything?”
“No, my Lady. Nothing that will cause you harm.” Good enough. I eased up and prepared to take a bite, but her growing look of anticipation killed the mood. I even liked maple and brown sugar – though I'd hardly consider instant a cooked meal by any stretch of the imagination. When I lowered the spoon her grin fell and lifting it made it stretch.
“Alright, why are you doing that?”
Again her reply was immediate, and this time laced with just enough confusion to make me doubt myself – which was probably the plan. “Doing what?”
I stayed calm; I was kind of proud of that. “Smiling like that when I lift the spoon. Did you do something to the spoon?”
Outrage; again the perfect amount. “What? No! I didn't touch the spoon at all. I smile at the anticipation of your enjoyment of my lovingly home-cooked meal!”
And the day took a turn for the really surreal, as a soup ladle I was sure I didn't own flew through the doorway and smacked Sarex in the head, taking her down instantly.
“YOU cooked!?! Why you little troll, you don't even know how to turn the oven on! Don't listen to her, my Lady, she is just trying to curry favor.”
That had to be Abnex. Sarex shot back, not even looking away and without losing her grin. “You didn't either! You just used that box thing with the chime!”
I was pretty sure she was talking about the microwave. It still didn't count as cooking to me. “Abnex get in here!”
He came but paused at the doorway. I could almost feel the effort it took him to resist, even though his head was turned. “Are you decent, my Lady?”
I was in my pajamas, so yes. “Sure, get in here.”
He appeared in front of me as if poured from a bottle rather than walk. “Is there anything in the food Sarex brought me that I should be aware of? Foreign contaminants, extras, curses, or anything else? Tell me truthfully.”
He knelt too under my influence, knuckling his forehead and refusing to look me in the eye. “No, my Lady. It is just human food, I assure you.”
I took a strawberry slice... and it tasted fine. Well, if by hand picked an hour ago after being kissed by the sun for a month was fine. It was amazing, so I nibbled on another while hunting my remote. Both the twins were still on their knees, waiting.
“You don't have to kneel or genuflect to me, or whatever you're doing.”
Abnex fielded that one while Sarex stayed silent – though she did turn her head enough to watch the television out of the corner of her eyes. “We know we don't.”
They still kept doing it. I thought for a moment and just gave up, changing the channel to the history channel; early morning was the only time they actually showed real history anymore, and I didn't want to miss it. I debated asking the next question. The really important one.
“What happens if I command you to tell me who sent you?”
Sarex looked away from the show long enough to answer. “Oh, we'll explode!” Her chipper voice and upbeat tone was more than a little at odds with the statement.
Walk softly, here... so very softly. “Why?”
Abnex looked up to answer. “Because the one who sent us is more powerful than you, and while he's not here he made us swear not to tell. So if you command us to tell you, and his command not to holds, we will be driven to either stay silent or explode under the force of your commands. I am sorry, my Lady, but you cannot get any answers from us; only friendly companionship.”
He had to be joking, but he didn't sound like it.
Of course, he'd already told me enough. Stronger than me meant a few mortals, and a whole lot of demons. The use of the word 'one' rather than 'he' 'she' or 'person' was also suggestive of a demon, but not a smoking gun, and I couldn't think of any demon who had a vested interest in my well-being or fostering some kind of relationship other than Grex... and if he had a problem with the former he'd already be here himself.
“Fine. Whatever. You can stay if you don't do anything stupid. I'm just going to lounge around today and be lazy. Do something to piss me off and I'll ship you back to Hell, understand?”
They both nodded. I settled back into bed and turned the television up. They sat cross-legged in the corner and watched with me. Sarex's little squeals of delight as the animals ate each other on the plains of Africa was a little disturbing, but not enough to call her on.
At some point in watching the discovery channel, I must have fallen asleep again.
My phone woke me, chiming an odd alarm I'd only heard once before, in training. The off duty alarm meaning a demon was on the loose. I looked around, groggily, to find out why my arms wouldn't move, to find that they were pinned by the twins, who had joined me in the bed and were even now looking around in confusion themselves.
It was most definitely not adorable in any way.
I freed my arm from Sarex (she was closest to my nightstand) and picked up my phone. Just as I managed that the alarm stopped, and it started ringing instead. I picked up.
“Hey Snow!”
“Hi Karen. What's going on?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just your standard run of the mill demon alert – again. Nothing for you to worry about and come in for. In fact, that's why I'm calling, to tell you your day off is still a go. So just sit back and relax, and don't worry. If you want to talk shop later I'll tell you all about it, okay?”
Well, that was more than a little off-putting. Sending some mixed signals there, Kare-bear. “Sure. Good luck.”
She hung up and I set my phone down; she had sounded a little nervous. I wonder if she was going to handle the alert herself? She had undoubtedly faced worse, no matter the demon. Well, I certainly wasn't worried for her, but maybe I could do something on my end, day off or not. After all, Grex wasn't here to stop me from questioning the twins.
“So, Abnex. Can you tell me what's going on in the city lately, with all the demons attacking?”
Abnex had no poker face at all unless he was feigning the nervousness. “Yes.”
So he could tell me but clearly wouldn't offer any information. “Then tell me, and speak truth. Why have the incidents of demon attacks and sightings gone up recently?”
Sarex answered sweetly; right, the twins tended to tag team responses. “Well, there is someone out there summoning demons to attack. There might be more than one someone, we don't know.”
Hm. “Is this the same person who summoned you to come to me today?”
Abnex and Sarex both shook their heads, but Abnex spoke the words. “No, that's a different someone. But other than that, the only thing we can tell you is the person who summoned us means you no harm at all.”
Oh, they could tell me more, but that what they already said was quite enough. A demon lord in all likelihood, or a summoner so strong they might as well be, had summoned them without a more permanent contract and told them to watch me. It almost had to be a demon lord, but which one? According to Grex they were all stronger than me – but one that wanted me protected?
“So can you tell me anything about this different someone?”
Abnex answered, formally. “We cannot. You are correct to assume we know more than we can say, but we can't help you.”
Not 'won't', but 'can't'. What was this, some kind of sick test? No, that was arrogance; I was kind of a big deal, but not that big. If anything I might be able to hold the demons off and slow their advance, in the way that the heavy hitters who came before me managed, but in the grand scheme of things I was nothing at all. It could be a test of the city's ADTF response, but if it was that it was a prelude to invasion.
Mexico wasn't that far away after all, and the base was a prime target. One good massed strike there could cripple America's war effort.
But while that seemed to make sense, it really didn't. The amount of force applied to crack the base, or even hurt it significantly should be well over what any collection of rumored rogue summoners could pull – even the rumored 4th Reich Nazi summoners rumored to be in South America. The demons themselves could probably do it, if a lord were summoning more demons in, but even with a dozen lords working nonstop such an effort would take years, and there was no way an army that size would remain undetected.
Instead, the sniping and undoubtedly dangerous single attacks stepped up; brutal and stretching us thin but ultimately not dangerous enough. Maybe the real target was in another city, one sending us reinforcements? It was possible, but reinforcements had been sent from the base and Phoenix already, and both still had more than enough to deal with a guerrilla army. The other cities were fine.
Maybe the target wasn't a big population center at all? I snagged my phone and surfed for news about small towns. The ADTF made regular patrols into low population areas, but anyone living in the boonies was always at risk; we simply didn't have enough resources or people to station full teams everywhere, America was too big. However most of the time, demons left small population centers alone; it wasn't perfect, but there were towns that had actually seen demons pass through and not lose anyone to them, while the city down the road was not so lucky.
Nothing at all, no news about demons loose in small town America, or even lone people found mauled in the countryside. Not so much as a hiker mauled by the resurgent great cats in the area; nothing at all that could even be mistaken for a demon attack.
I looked up to find Abnex staring at my phone over one shoulder, and Sarex staring at my phone from my other. I blinked.
Sarex grinned. “A little kinky for a human, My Lady, looking up such things in your off hours. I approve!”
Abnex blinked, then reached over and slapped his sister on the back of her head. “Idiot. She's clearly working in her off hours.”
Sarex rubbed the back of her head, scowling. “But why would she do a thing like that? Work sucks! Isn't this her first day off in two weeks?”
Abnex replied: “More than two weeks, actually. Maybe our Lady is a masochist?”
When Sarex exclaimed “Oooh, fun!” I decided to weigh back in myself.
“I'm not a masochist, and I'm done working on my off hours. It's just, what you're telling me makes little sense. There is nothing here for demons to be warring over.”
They shared a glance, and this time, I couldn't read their expressions. “On that, we agree. Keep at it, my Lady, and you'll figure it out.”
They looked at each other, surprised; they had both spoke, saying the same thing in chorus. Evidently, it surprised them as much as me, which meant there was only one conclusion to come to; demons were weird, even kid ones.
Whatever, I wouldn't suddenly figure out the master plan of the evil end boss this way.
I got up and the twins went flying, spilling over the side of the bed even though they hadn't been that close and there was no way I could have bumped into either; they both rolled end over end until they hit the opposite walls.
Whatever.
I walked into the living room, still not dressed, and turned on the television there. If the twins wanted to watch more discovery it was an option for them, but I was going to use my new toys that were still basically brand new; there was a new third person giant robot adventure game I wanted to try.
None of my friends were online. Not that I had many in the first place, only five, but it was a little disappointing. Of course, it was still early on a Monday, so my favorite goth nerd was probably working. The game had downloaded and patched during the night (the wonders of electronic purchasing and timed content releases) and was ready to go.
I refilled my coffee and got to work destroying enemy robot pilots for the glory of the Ktar collective; being evil and conquering all I surveyed was oddly satisfying – at least in a game.
Before long my audience started offering hints.
“No, left, left!”
“Use your jump jets and then land on them!”
“Look out! Enemy to your rear!”
“Why didn't you paint your robot pink?”
I paused and set the controller down, turning to Sarex. “Alright, first off, how do you even know what a robot is, or what I'm doing?”
“Abnex replied, of course. “We have spent some time on Earth in the recent past and have watched television before. Including cartoons and science fiction.”
“Yeah!” Sarex added. “We aren't like that old guy Grex you hang out with, we see more action.”
Well, that made sense, actually. The more powerful you were the harder it was to summon you. If you were a demon, of course. I looked up to find it was now early afternoon; almost two-o-clock, and I was hungry again. Where had the time gone?
I quit the game and stood up. The twins followed suit, showing none of the leg stiffness I would have if I'd sat on the floor like they had.
The kitchen was as clean as I left it. I was struck by a sudden suspicion.
“You two didn't do anything to the contents of my fridge, did you?”
Sarex replied, sounding indignant. “Neither of us have done anything to the contents of your refrigerator.”
“We also haven't done anything detrimental to the rest of your food stores, aside from use some of it to make breakfast. We won't harm you, my Lady.” Abnex added.
“Or if we do, it will be in a perfectly obvious way that you'll see coming!” Sarex finished, brandishing her huge scythe from nowhere.
Her grin was a little unhinged but didn't look particularly malicious. She was trying to put me at ease, and I didn't know what was worse; that I didn't feel threatened (not here, in my home, with my defenses) or that I understood demon well enough to know she wasn't threatening me.
“Thanks for that.”
Let's see, hamburger, bought a day ago, frozen french fries, my fryer and some oil, some tomatoes garlic and onion, lettuce... it was all here, and still very fresh. I normally didn't have time to cook, or even inclination, but burgers and fries was easy, and I had the time today. It shouldn't be any more stressful than my day job.
Except somehow it was.
“What are you doing now?”
“Why is it bubbling like that?”
“How do you know when it's done?”
The twins, it seems, did not cook and were full of questions. I did my best to answer them, but they had so many and almost all of them were stupid. Why wouldn't you mix the onions and garlic into the meat? It was better for the taste than just sprinkling it on top! Lettuce was on top of the tomato to contrast the tastes, and the heat and chill of the burger when it was combined. Seriously they sounded like they were four-year-olds that they couldn't possibly be.
But just as I was about to command them to just go away, go anywhere at all, just for some blessed silence – the burgers and fries were done. I set three plates, each with a burger and a handful of fries down.
The twins looked at theirs, almost as if they didn't know what to do with them. I suspected I was being played somehow. But when I picked up my burger (with both hands) they followed suit. I took a bite, and they both did too, in perfect sync. And both their faces lit up, slowly, also in perfect sync.
“This is delicious.”
“This is amazing! Roast cow never tasted so well before!”
“It's better than pork.”
They shared a look. I wasn't sure what it meant, but I was pretty sure I didn't want to ask. Then they looked at the other burgers I'd made, to finish up before the meat went bad.
“Oh, hell no. One each, and one each only, you gluttons.” Where would they even pack it, anyway? The twins were tiny.
“Aww, but they're so good!”
“Please? Or just some more of the fries?”
Well, the fries would suck if reheated. “Alright, if you want, you can have more fries.”
I felt like I was babysitting them, and not the other way around, despite what they said this morning. I washed the dishes while the twins watched - apparently this was a new thing to them too – and started up another game; this time an RPG.
I was just entering the lower level of the Carolis Castle, on the hunt for rats and slimes, when Karen opened my door. She looked like hell.
Her robe was singed and torn, she stumbled rather than walked in and sat heavily on the couch with a small poof of dust and dirt. If she noticed the twins right next to her, she didn't say anything. Not to mention the stink. She stank, and badly.
“What happened to you?”
“Demons. I hate 'em.” was her reply.
“Yes... but what happened to you?”
She sighed. “Alright fine. So I got pulled in alongside one of the teams from Phoenix since they needed a local guide and summoner. So we get a call, a demon sighting, to 118th Chester way.”
That was the end of Chester way... the old sewage treatment plant for the south side of town. A low priority target if ever I heard one, even if there were some workers there during the day.
“Alright, go on...”
“So, the target was an imp, a pretty strong one. It could hide from Thor, and it led us through the sewer plant into the storm drains.”
The storm drains here were little used; mainly there for our monsoon-like rainy season. This was a desert, after all.
“From there, the imp led us into the sewers. Actually etched arrows into the halls and everything. Taunting us. I sent Thor ahead.”
Well, the sewers explained more. “Go on.”
“Well, the imp circled around on us while Thor was away flushing him out. We had to run in to try and link up with him as I called him back.”
I didn't react to the poor word choice – it couldn't have been deliberate – but the twins snickered. She didn't act like like she heard them at all.
“I ended up falling on... things... twice. In the sewer.”
Well that would explain it. “Did you at least get the imp?”
She nodded, and her eyes focused on my television. “Is that the new Legends of Infinity?”
It didn't surprise me that she knew what it was. “Yes. Want to play?”
She grinned and held out her hand for the controller. “Sure!”
“Not so fast. Go take a shower first; you reek. Only then can you play.”
“Alright, don't mind if I do!” She got up... and headed to my bathroom.
“I meant your own shower, in your own apartment!”
She already had the shower on, and probably her clothes off. “Yeah, yeah, no time for that. There's skeletons and dark wizards to kill!”
I turned to the twins. “Is there some way you two have to take care of the mess and the smell?”
“Sure!” Sarex said, brightly. Then she whipped out her giant scythe. I just managed to get a hand on her arm.
“No! Some way that doesn't involve murder or bodily harm to anyone. Just a way to clean.”
Abnex assumed a thoughtful pose while Sarex pouted. “Well, we can actually revert the time on an object, with your permission, to a time before it was dirty... like the couch and the carpets. As for the smell, well that's easier.”
I looked at my poor couch. It would probably have to be steam cleaned or something as is, and I didn't know if you could even do that to it.
“How long would it take, and how would you do it?”
Sarex pointed to one of the circles on the walls, one that Grex had wanted me to inscribe. She still hadn't put her scythe away. “We'd use that, it's made for the purpose. Well, not exactly, but it'd work. A slight amount of power fixed on it and your couch rewinds an hour without moving anywhere or shredding space-time. Same with the carpets, it's just a matter of fine tuning. We can do it to anything in the apartment, actually, with your permission.”
“You have my permission, for the carpets and couch; nothing else.”
The last thing I needed was for Karen to be reverted to a four-year-old or something. Four-year-old Karen would suck so bad, for everyone.
“Understood.” Came the chorused reply, as Sarex re-positioned herself on the couch and Abnex took a hovering position above the carpet. The circle on the wall flared, then began glowing with a steady light, and I could see the dirt and grime being lifted off the surfaces to suspend itself in the air a moment before vanishing. Where it went, I didn't care, but it probably found itself back in the sewer – or back on Karen's clothes.
Less than a minute later both twins were panting as if they had run a marathon, but gazing at me with identical looks of... apprehension? I looked at their work; the couch and carpet looked like they had this morning. Come to think of it, this was how Grex had cleaned the apartment the first time, wasn't it? Though he had kept the dirt somehow, and made a ball of it....
“Good job, you two.”
They both beamed at me, showing their small shark teeth.
Karen came out a bit later, a towel wrapped around her, and made her way directly into my bedroom. On her way to steal clothes, no doubt.
“Abnex, could you please clean up the mess Karen left in the bathroom? Sarex, could you make a fresh pot of coffee please?”
They looked at each other, then back to me. “Could we switch jobs?” Sarex asked. “I don't know how to cook things – not really, and Abnex already worked out how to make coffee the human way.”
There was a non-human way to make coffee? “Sure, but don't destroy anything Sarex, Just clean it up. Put the dirty clothes in a trash bag or something, mop up any water, that sort of thing.”
She nodded violently as Abnex answered. “Sure, my Lady.”
They split up; Abnex was back before Karen waltzed in with her pilfered goods (a t-shirt and jeans, both of which were baggy on in all the wrong places, at least from her perspective) but Sarex was still in the bathroom. And cursing, loudly. Karen raised an eyebrow.
“So you have attendants now?”
“Someone sent them to watch over me... or to watch me. I'm not sure who or how.”
The building was supposed to be well warded after all, and it was. Even if it wasn't I'd added my own wards besides, and I was getting better. So whoever sent them knew the keys to the kingdom, or sent the twins because they knew how to disable my security or both. Given how short the list already was, I was betting both.
Karen picked up on that immediately. “Have you asked?”
I gave her The Look and she raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I get it. Did you ask Grex?”
“Nah, I'm giving him a day off. They can't hurt me, so I'm not too worried.” Right away I realized I'd screwed up. Karen didn't know about my ability to command other demons, no one did, and I'd just thoughtlessly blurted it out.
“Why can't they hurt you?” Karen asked, picking up on it immediately, of course.
I thought fast. “The wards I have placed on the walls and behind the artwork?”
Karen glanced at them and shrugged. “That works I guess if you aren't planning on going anywhere.”
Whew. “Well I wasn't, and I could have banished them at any time before leaving. I still can.”
Karen nodded, watching Abnex come back with coffee. She took her cup when offered (second, Abnex made a point of handing mine over first). “Still, that's really odd. Someone who isn't Grex did it?”
“Yeah. I think it might have been the General.” It wasn't a lie, he was on that short list I'd been making, and he did live right upstairs. At least when he lived off the base at all.
I took a drink of my coffee, and Karen waited just long enough for it to be obvious she was waiting for me to keel over before doing the same. I waved the go ahead at her. “I already checked, they can't do anything to harm me or anyone else unless I tell them to.”
She sipped then, gratefully, before flopping back on the couch and reaching across me. “Alright, let's see that controller. I want to kill things that don't really exist and forget.”
I let her snag it... then took a few blackmail shots with my phone as she set up her character. Sure, I missed the really juicy ones of her filthy, but chances were the team had those. What they wouldn't have was her swimming in my clothes, looking underdeveloped, and I could trade mine for the others. Maybe I'd even make it my screensaver.
But now it was time to get serious again. “So, anyone sidelined I need to know about?”
Karen waved that off, already starting the dungeon crawl. She didn't even bother to pick up quests. “Nah. Some superficial stuff, but nothing people can't walk off. You seem to get the worst of it when you go out, oddly enough.”
“Maybe some demon lord has it in for me, or something. Binding Grex did take a rather strong player off the field.” So she'd noticed too, huh? That meant the higher ups had, all the way up the chain; Karen was their mouthpiece.
“Yeah maybe, but then again, there has to be more to it. My current theory is that it has something to do with the nature of your contract. After all, you don't seem to feel the pressure of dealing with demonic forces the way the rest of us do, and maybe that scares them. Well, that combined with the power you tap into.”
We could hope. “As good a guess as any other.”
I watched and sipped as Karen fumbled around, growling and swearing occasionally at pixel skeletons and zombies. Abnex had just refilled both our cups when a phone rang. I checked to make sure; it wasn't mine. Even though the “We dun need no stinking badges” ringtone was a far cry from my own phones generic one.
With another growl, Karen dropped the controller and reached in her borrowed jeans.
“What's up chief?”
She listened carefully. Then cussed for at least half a minute. “Got to go. Somehow a demon wound up dead at the subdivision you were at a few days ago. The boss is calling be back in.”
I stood up. “I can go too....”
She actually made an X with her arms and buzzed at me. “Bzzzt! Nope, you're still off duty. Relax, we got this. I got this; at least it isn't a sewer this time.”
“You hope.” I grinned and threw a spare robe at her, readying my phone again.
“Yeah, fuck you too Snow.” she smiled, threw it over her head (giving me several good shots) and stormed out.
….What was even going on in this city?!?
“Demons hate Mondays too,” my mug proudly declared, complete with a rather basic picture of a horned demon filing paperwork in a file cabinet. Grex had gotten it for me – he told me he made it in “hell's home ec,” but it had that machined look. I wasn't sure where the money came from since I didn't pay him anything, but at least he hadn't killed anyone for it and then filled it with the blood of innocents before filling it with a reasonably good coffee and handing it over.
I had lower standards, these days.
I was at my desk, doing the filing of incident reports that the demon on my mug had only hinted at; there were far too many of them these days. Almost one per day I was on shift; the entire psych division was starting to take notice, and my basic training yesterday had been conspicuously light. The higher-ups were making it obvious they thought I was overworked. What worried me is I never felt better; aside from the annoyance of constantly taking care of demons, I felt good. Better than fine, and the opposite of what I was told I should feel, or what my co-workers already felt.
Many of my poor co-workers were on extended leave, having worked themselves right into collapse. Karen and I were left, but we had some fresh blood from Phoenix filling in the gaps.
I kind of hated them, they seemed far more soulless than the regulars. That could just be a result of being forced to move here to cover for us, or because they didn't know us.
Or it could just be because they had the personality of wet cardboard. They barely even said hello in the morning.
Of the locals, Karen, one of the Charlies, and I were it. Five summoners were out with exhaustion ( and hopefully that was all, I'd been hearing some disturbing rumors about disturbing whispers) and replaced with warm automatons.
Amazingly, the squads, including my own, was getting off relatively light. For some reason all the demons summoned went after civilians and then almost directly after any summoners in a response team; in many cases outright ignoring anyone else once the summoner was identified. So far none had died outright, which was lucky... but more than one had been injured. It was a major departure from how demons normally operated, and we already had another two teams just investigating the cause.
So far the reigning theory was that an old Nazi summoner had somehow snuck across the border, all the way to here, and decided to set up shop killing our summoners because Nazi. I wasn't sure that worked, but maybe it did. Summoners were crazy, after all, even the best of us.
There was a rather well-known military base, after all. It seemed as good a target to hit as any other if you were an insane crazy person.
What was even weirder was some demons were turning up dead, in many cases hacked into pieces and just left where they fell, by person or persons unknown. The demon would show, we would send a squad and summoner, and by the time the squad arrived the demon was already dead. In more than a few cases there wasn't even sign of a fight.
That had happened four times in the last week and a half or so. There was yet ANOTHER team of ADTF working that angle; a very nervous team, though one not as nervous as the ones being sent out to respond to calls. Those of us being sent to respond to demon calls were very nervous; it was only a matter of time before one of us got there in time.
With my power, it would probably be me. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it. Resigned, sure. Prepared, maybe, since there were only so many ways to cut a demon in half with a weapon (in one stroke no less) but not looking forward to it. There was already some serious rumor mongering going on behind my back, with people speculating why I was so unusual a Summoner. Some of those rumors were disgusting, and when I found out who spread them... well I wasn't sure what I'd do, but it wasn't going to be pleasant for them.
Today I was supposed to be on backup duty, with one of the exchange Summoners, a woman with the unfortunate moniker of “Harpy,” taking patrol duty today. The fact that the term was descriptive was even more unfortunate. By the end of the week, another shipment of out-of-towners was due, this time from places as far away as Boulder.
If we didn't solve this soon, the General might even roll out the new recruits and the people still in training, whether he wanted to or not; he was probably getting pressured to solve this. About the only good news was that it was stress testing our network and reactions, showing where the problems were likely to be before we got overwhelmed; having this happen in more than one city would probably have destroyed us.
Hm, another silver lining; if whoever was doing this had waited or had more help, they could have easily thrown all of the continent into chaos. This was small scale, at least relatively.
But what all this amounted to was a boring day. Cords was off today, and that meant no streams or television. Well, unless I wanted to go in the comm room and deal with the stone-faced soldier manning it; a vet freshly returned from his last tour. He stared off into space a lot, but Karen assured me he didn't have post-traumatic stress. I didn't believe her.
So, filing. The fact that the Captain had asked me to finally catch up was immaterial; I could ignore the paperwork if I wanted; especially now. But there was nothing else to do. I couldn't even go out and run, because I was still on call.
It was time to catch up on police investigative procedures.
I was halfway through the detective novel an hour later when the alarm went off. “Oh, come on!”
Sure I felt fine, but a single day without a demon sighting or call would be nice. I wasn't even embarrassed by my very loud exclamation.
The soldier, his name was Brett, stuck his head out of communications. “The response team is on it, Ma'am. But you should prepare to move, just in case.”
Just in case, my ass. Another attack was almost a given at this point. It was too early in the day; there was a pattern for this. Multiple attacks to separate us and pick us apart, followed by a more serious attack on whichever team was sent to reinforce the first team. But what else could I do? I prepared to move.
Maybe today would be different, and the attacks would stop. But if not, I was best suited to deal with it, especially out of those of us left up. If only management could be convinced I was fine, especially afterward.
I met everyone down at the transport; my squad today consisted of Judge, Conners, West, Roddy, and Aims. Two snipers were unusual, but everyone else was sick or injured by this point, so that's what I had; the teams that had been moved in from other cities were full teams since full teams were what worked best together.
It could have been worse; the Captain was slated for actual night duty.
We didn't talk, we didn't have to. We just piled in instead. “The bird people still giving you grief, Snow?”
The bird people were what Sarah called the teams from Phoenix. I guess she thought it was clever. “Not for awhile now.”
The first thing the Phoenix teams had tried to do upon showing up for work bright and early at the beginning of the week, was to give me grief for having Grex out in the squad room. Things had gotten a little ugly, at least until the Captain had stepped in. Ever since though, they had been leading the charge to get me benched, and not even solving half a dozen demon cases nearly bloodlessly (easy when you can just order them to go home) was enough to shut them up. There had even been a few half-hearted cries of 'demon' bandied my way, which was silly; I could prove I grew up human, and so could the authorities.
I didn't summon Grex in their presence anymore, and it seemed like one of them was always watching.
“That's good.” Sarah said, “We are a little understaffed to be kicking bird people ass. Not that we won't, but it'll be dicey with half of us laid up.”
It was kind of heartwarming that they would go to bat for me like that, in a high school drama way, but unnecessary. They wouldn't do anything if not provoked.
Would they? “No, that shouldn't be necessary at all. If I need to I'll ask for Summoner help; they have ways of getting even with people who piss them off.” Like strip teasing imps.
And that wasn't even the worst option I'd heard.
“Good. The last thing we need is to fight among ourselves now.” she gave me a gimlet stare. “But, if they should start up again, don't sit there and take it. Tell us, and we'll kick some ass.”
“There shouldn't be a problem.”
We all packed in and started out, heading to support the first team; if everything happened true to form then we'd get ambushed along the way. If we were extremely unlucky, while we were getting ambushed another attack would occur across town.
The news channels had been pretty brutal to our department lately, accusing us of faulty procedures and bad response time; general muck-raking, the Captain called it. He wouldn't let me talk to the press, however; he wouldn't let any summoner do that. I did have idle dreams of making the talking heads eat their words, however; they were tarnishing a department of people forced to look into the abyss every day, and by extension, the police force my Dad had served on for years.
Then again, maybe the Captain had a point.
We were all silent once Judge pulled out. On edge, tense and waiting. It was a shame, really; I could kill for an ice cream sandwich. Okay, demons not humans, but still.
Three streets away, weaving in and out of traffic, everyone thin-lipped and staring out of the windows. The fire, red and somehow dark, hit us from an elevated position in a stream.
And as shameful as it was, my first thought was relief that we wouldn't have to turn around and drive another twenty minutes to some other demon attack.
The smell of sulfur filled the air as the tearing sound of shattering cars filled my ears. The heat in the transport's cabin rose a good twenty degrees in a second, and Judge, calm as ever, just drove into something to stop us with a crunch. It made sense, we were all belted in.
“Grex, veni huc!” He was already forming, doing that reverse puddle thing he so liked to do from the floor of the cabin. I took the opportunity to speed time for myself a bit, pop my seat belt, and start tapping members of my team. “Judge, the side door blocked?”
His no was long and drawn out since I hadn't got to him, but even just hearing the 'N' was enough. I got to everyone else before he was finished with it, and tapped him; the word sped up immediately.
“Alright, here's the plan. We all go out the side door, and I'll go last; you're all sped up, so you should be through the door before whatever that is outside gets a bead on you; in case he manages I or Grex will block it. Sound good?”
Sarah really looked like she wanted to argue – but she stayed silent. I supposed I was usurping her authority just a bit, but the plan was solid, and doing things this way would actually be easier on me. Time was easier to manipulate than a full shield for me, and the side door was big enough to fit the team through in two waves; the other option would be to scatter and hope only a few of us got picked off. I wasn't really fine with that.
The door opened and I focused on slowing time for my select few even more; It took some serious effort since they weren't prepped for it, and were already moving around. We stepped out into a street that looked like an earthquake hit; (I'd never say 'scene from Hell' again to describe anything on Earth, since I'd actually visited Hell in my dreams) there were cars slammed into each other and buildings, a massive pileup that had to be twenty cars, and fire everywhere.
All of it was stopped for us, of course, though the fire might still burn us if we touched it; I hadn't fully stopped time for us and I wasn't sure how the interaction would work. I wasn't going to test it either.
The fire flowed to the transport almost lazily; it was easy to spot the roof our demon was using; an office building like many others, ten stories, the East corner near a fire escape. Sort of ironic, after a fashion. I watched the fire streak slowly over my head... and hit the inside of the transport through the door I hadn't closed. Whoops.
The slow motion explosion was a terrific sight to behold, the steam blossoming into petals of outstretched fire - but I'd left my tablet in there.
Grex was by my side, moving as fast as I was. I tapped him too. “Grex, go kill that demon.”
One of his eyebrows lifted, but his wings came out and he pushed off. Almost forgot! “And don't cause the death of any bystanders either, through action or inaction!”
I was more careful than most; I could afford to be.
Grex waved to show he understood and hit the roof just as the demon, a Baal-rog, judging by the size and the ugly, began to react to us not being where he thought we were. I stopped watching the fight that promised to be one-sided and looked for my team; I found them huddled behind cover and beginning to fan out; Judge and Aims both were already looking for lines of sight on the roof, to crossfire it.
Sarah looked over and yelled, the noise carrying over what amounted to loud white noise; all other sources of sound were slower than we were but not stopped. It was hard to tell what was what, really.
What Sarah yelled was pretty obvious, though. “Snow, move! The transport is going!”
Right, direct hit to its insides, and it had combustibles. I resisted the urge to looked back and check the progress of any explosion and settled on running. Good thing I had so much practice at it; I ducked behind a crumpled car just as it finished going up, spraying debris everywhere.
Note to self, design some wards to protect the interiors of those vehicles too. Provided I survived; that fire was hot.
I began to run out of gas, time for all of us returning for normal. I just let go and let it happen for everyone but Grex, since the rest of us were now behind cover. For some reason trying to speed up multiple people was much harder than speeding up one, or even an area, and left me panting. The stupid earrings I could feel burning away my ears didn't help.
I didn't realize my mistake until I'd already released my own time dilation; my own cover protected me nicely from the burning vehicle I'd just ran from, but did almost nothing to protect me from certain angles of the roof the demon was on. The stream of fire I had to roll away from was a big clue that I hadn't really needed.
Hm, wait, that wouldn't have hit me, at least not directly. I'd have survived with only horrible and potentially disfiguring burns. My eyes traveled up and met those of Grex, who was currently bending the arm that had been used to aim the fire at me in new and interesting directions. I gave him a thumbs up on my way to new cover.
A moment later Grex beat me to the cover I'd chosen, slamming into it back first with some snaps I didn't like the sound of. At least the rapid smothering had put the fire out. Mostly.
I ducked behind another car as Grex clambered to his feet, and opened my mouth to call the twins, my new ace in the hole. The more the merrier, as far as I was concerned. Grex, sped up or not, unholy stamina and endurance or not, was clearly already getting the worst of the exchange; there was something about that fire....
Other than it started to rain down on the street, that is. A veritable shower of flame which melted steel and pitted concrete. I focused through my jewelry, raising the shielding abilities of my robe and extending it to the street, slowing time in the area at the same time, fatigue be damned. Maybe I could give the civilians enough time to get out of their wrecked cars if I just pushed hard enough.
Even as time started to slow I saw my team with Sarah in the lead; she shot out a storefront window and dove in, the others following suit. I didn't see Judge among them.
“You fools!” a voice boomed. “I am Verborax, one of the generals of the lord of the pit himself! You stand no chance against my hellfire, granted me by Lucifer himself!”
And if anything the shower got more intense; so bad I couldn't ignore it. My team had the right idea, as much as it galled me; if I went down the demon would just continue to kill people, pretty much completely unopposed. And the intensity of his attack was such I wouldn't lay money on anyone else being able to beat him. I'd have to take a personal hand, again, which had been happening too often lately.
At least my team probably wouldn't see this.
I pulled an earring out of my ear. Instantly, the strain of trying to do too much eased, and I let my wings burst from my back. Some modification to my robes mean they didn't rip or tear when I did this, just accommodated them; the spell calculations made my head hurt, but long strips of cloth simply ceased to exist in the same timeline as my wings, so when one set existed, the other set didn't.
A quick focus of my shield and I was airborne, the fire actually pushing back against me and making flight difficult. I needed to practice this more. I needed to find a place to practice this more, without getting outed.
The demon saw me, of course. How could one miss a winged robed figure gliding through the sky directly at them? I expected more flame, but instead he grabbed Grex by the head and threw him at me.
With a wince, I dodged and let him sail past, keeping my eyes on the self-styled general. Sorry Grex, you aren't going to die from that and your sacrifice will be remembered.
Verborax himself was a large guy, red and roided. Maybe he lifted in hell? He had two large horns on either side of his head just above his ears, and jagged teeth. He stood at probably fifteen feet tall, and wisps of flame sprouted from him in random patterns, as if he made of charcoal briquettes. He was bald of course, but the waves of fire wreathing his head might well double as hair for him. And for someone wearing human form, he was somehow ugly beyond belief; I'd seen imps cuter than him.
That's probably a bad way to phrase that, even in my own head.
I drew my knife and sped up, closing in. The general couldn't quite meet me, but the flame came literally exploded forth from him in all directions, and even with time slowed almost to a crawl for me there was just no way to get close without dying. That was the feint though; he had to at the very least understand me for my real attack to work – but would it work? He was a general in hell, somewhere; no demon would claim that if it weren't true. Well not and live long, anyway. More importantly, he had the power of one, which may mean he outranks me. Only one way to find out.
I eased my power again, just enough for conversation to be understood, and put all my force, all my weight, behind my voice.
“Verborax, you're relieved. Go back to Hell, and do not come here again unless summoned.”
He understood immediately, but today was clearly not the day for all my hard work and practice mastering that trick to pay off. What he did next confused me, though.
He saluted and replied, almost conversationally in what just missed being an inside voice. “Mistress, I hear, but cannot obey; one who outranks you has commanded me. And so, we must fight. But know that I bear you no ill will.”
Then he looked down at the street and roared. “The same cannot be said of the maggots down there! Die, you scum!”
And with a whoosh, more fire. I was a bit busy trying not to get my wings burned off to do much. Grex and I had practiced fire before, but never this much of it, and never this hot. I was beginning to see why this kind of demon 'outranked' Grex. I doubted the twins would even be able to do anything here. This was looking to be more natural disaster than fight.
Which was why it was a little anti-climactic when the sword came from nowhere and split Verborax completely in half, finally coming to a stop buried in the roof to its guard.
The hilt was glowing a pure white that hurt the eyes, and the being that came hurtling out of the clouds to land with force enough to buckle the roof slightly matched that. It grasped the hilt of the sword, pulling it free, and then kicked and spat on the dissolving corpse.
“Foul beast. Did you think we would not notice your kind, even here?”
He looked up, to me, and his eyes narrowed. “And you. What are you doing? Your enemy stands before you, and you do not summon your raiment? Your sword? Why do you toy with this one? Are you somehow injured?”
His own glow diminished a bit as he sheathed his sword, a truly massive two-handed thing, and I could finally see clearly enough to make out plain plate armor of an odd style over a fit body, the blonde hair, and the two bleached white glowing wings. Wings that no demon I'd ever met had.
The angel took off, flying closer. “Answer, now. Or are you addled?”
Grex was in front of me in an instant; his arm hanging limp and blood pouring as from a river, but his voice was clear and steady.
“We need to go, Mistress. Right now.”
The angel's eyes narrowed. “I see... you're one of them. Brilliant camouflage, you had me fooled.”
My eyes were squinting before I realized what that meant, the sword just missed my nose as Grex tackled me, throwing me back out of range. So fast!
Grex didn't stop, flying up and away with powerful wing beats, fighting against my drag effortlessly. I curled my own wings up as much as I could to reduce the drag instinctively, even as I objected.
“Wait, what about...”
Even mouthing the words face into the wind, Grex heard me. His own response was easy to pick out. “They will be fine! They are not the target here, you are.”
The angel's voice was even clearer than Grex's. “To where do you run, fallen? You should know there is no escape.”
He was right behind us, preparing the swing that would sever both of Grex's wings from his body. I reached and sped up time for us both, the invisible railroad spike that jammed into my brain a pretty good clue that I might be overdoing it.
But we were still flying, so it must have worked. Grex did something and explosions sounded off behind us; I was focusing on the fact that even cracking my eyes open was painful.
“I need you to try something, Mistress. Can you focus for me, please?”
Grex's voice was surprisingly gentle, even as he juked a painfully intense beam of light that stopped in front of us and burst with all the fury of the sun. Even the very breath I took burned.
“Wh-what do you need me to do?” I swear I could see smoke rising from me, my mouth included. My voice was rough enough for it.
“I need you to focus on your apartment, your space. You need to take us there.” Grex stopped all forward momentum, juking again; the sword of doom cut the air past us and was gone. There was too much light, I couldn't see anything.
Something cupped my left ear gently, and some of the pressure in my head eased; Grex had just removed an earring.
No, he had removed more than one. Power flooded me, and I focused it on home. I needed to be there, right now. I knew what Grex was asking me to do... he was asking me to teleport us; to bridge the space between us and my apartment with magic. Normally it could only be done by ritual, and only by the strongest summoners; I didn't know how risky it would be for me, but it was better than staying here; that angel was crazy.
Was it even an angel? It wasn't acting like one.
Questions could be asked if I survived, and those questions were apparently long overdue. I focused, trying to ignore the sudden movements, glaring lights, and loud sounds. Grex should really be the one doing this, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't last ten seconds against our adversary.
The power so recently freed went somewhere, but there wasn't any noticeable change in my surroundings: no pop in air pressure or the other tells that usually signified a proper teleportation.
Grex sighed. “Of course. I apologize, Mistress, I should not have asked so much of you.”
I managed to crack an eye open enough to take in the scenery. We were still there, flying for our lives, though we were doing it much faster than before. I guess my power went down the oft-traveled path of least resistance?
Grex dodged another beam of light, this one actually slow enough to fully dodge. Apparently, our friend back there didn't have the same kind of insulation against time's passage that we did, but he wasn't frozen like everything else was. He was slow, but not slow enough that I'd risk getting close.
“Give me the abomination, fallen, and I'll spare your existence.” Yeah, those words were pretty clear. A little slow, but easy enough to understand.
If Grex was a fallen, then I was the abomination? I wasn't sure I liked the sound of that. Grex didn't either, from the sound of his response: “I'm afraid I can't do as you request, lapdog. Why don't you come a bit closer, and we can discuss it?”
I knew he was bluffing; he didn't want that maniac anywhere near me.
Unfortunately, the maniac was faster than we were, and it was only my power keeping us ahead of him.
Grex leaned into my ear and whispered. “Mistress, My lady, I need you to try again. I am not strong enough to defeat this enemy while burdened with your safety. Focus on the runes on the wall above your bed, and will us there. Let desire be your guide.”
I tried focusing again, ignoring the sudden barrel roll I found myself in. I felt something, and then Grex did something with the power I'd gathered again, and we plopped onto my comfy bed in an explosion of feathers and blood.
Grex was on top of me, leaking and groaning. It took some effort to roll him off, but he didn't complain.
His right wing was sliced clean through; it had come about four inches away from a clean amputation. His side had been clipped too, but in a spot that on a human would be above the kidney. I had no idea if it was serious for him or not. He was reacting mostly like a human would, rapid breathing, sweat, clammy skin... but his eyes were clear.
His side was still burning.
“Grex, is there anything I can do for you?”
“No. I yet exist and shall be fine soon enough,” He sighed, fingering the hole in his suit. “I shall have to start carrying my own sword, it seems.”
Good. “Well, if you aren't dying, perhaps you can answer some questions for me.”
He sighed again, louder this time. “As you command, my mistress.”
Guess I should lead off with the big one. “What was that, that attacked us last? Was it an angel?”
Grex nodded. I got up to get the bandages. He was still bleeding, and whether he wanted them or not, he was getting them. Besides, he was soaking my bed! I wasn't cleaning that up. “It was indeed an angel, one of the heavenly host, here to solve all the problems humanity might face and keep the wheels started by God turning smoothly.”
Wow, that was some pretty heavy sarcasm. “Alright, so why do you get to be a fallen, and I get to be an abomination?”
“Because I am an angel that fell, and you are not.”
Well, that was clear. I couldn't see any way to twist that around.
“Alright, so what is an angel doing in our neck of the woods other than trying to kill us, and are we safe here from him?”
“We are. This apartment is protected from most beings which could come to do you harm; I saw to it personally. Angels are chief among those.”
I motioned for Grex to take his coat off and started bandaging, thinking. That made no sense at all. Humanity hadn't even seen an angel; we only had the word of the dwindling priesthoods of the various Christian churches that they existed at all. The entire reason the Summoners had come to be was because prayers were not answered when the demons were loosed and began ravaging the world.
“Okay, I get why an angel would be trying to kill you... but why me?”
Grex smirked, and winced a little when I pulled the bandages tight. Perhaps tighter than I'd first intended. “Not I, my dear Lady, but you. If I had been alone, or faced Verborax alone, there would have been no problem. The angel only intervened for you.”
That made no sense. “But why?”
Grex sighed as I started binding his wing. “He likely mistook you as an angel, embroiled in a fight between two demons. Angels do help each other, and from a certain distance, you resemble one of them. It is mainly your beautiful speckled wings.”
Grex ran fingers through my plumage; right, I really should put those up. I guess from distance they appeared white or nearly so, just barely tinted gray here and there. Kind of like a dove's wings and unlike the inky black the Eriynes all seemed to have. I wonder if Grex would give me a straight answer on that.
“So the angel had bad eyes, came in to help and aced our demon. Then when he got low enough to see he made a mistake, he ignored you and went after me alone, which is when you stepped in. What I want to know, is why?”
Grex stood up; his wounds didn't seem to pain him at all. “You're a summoner, my lady. You willingly signed a contract on your soul to summon demons from Hell. The demons themselves are being punished for their own sins; no angel will target them unless attacked. You, however, are breaking the law. God's law. And the full force of the heavenly host will come for you now that they know of your existence. I should have stayed and fought.”
This was big. Very big. All this time the summoners had been on the side of the angels using the devil's tools, or so we thought. And it turned out the angel's side was closer to that of the devil's all along? This was big... huge even. World shattering. All that dedication, all that sacrifice for the home team, picking up the slack against forces that humanity was not equipped to handle – and it was betrayed from the start.
No, wait. I couldn't afford to just take Grex's word for this. Grex was a demon, and not to be trusted. No matter how much his behavior screamed genuine to me. Perhaps because it did.
But the 'angel' had hurt Grex badly, even if Grex wasn't showing all the signs. That wasn't something that could be ignored. The surprise Grex had displayed in seeing both the demon who attacked us and later the angel, well that probably wasn't feigned either.
“Are we in danger here? Can the angel find us?” I followed Grex into the kitchen. Where was he even going?
He started fumbling with the teapot one handed, the other still clutching his side. He filled it and dragged out two cups. Making tea at a time like this?
“No. He can find us through more normal means, but he cannot simply attack us here, in your stronghold. It is unlikely he will use those normal detection methods, those are beneath the heavenly host, and so you are safe so long as we replace your earrings. He and others can track you by your power quite easily.”
Well, at least now I knew why he insisted on the earrings. If only I didn't feel like putting those things back on right now would kill me; I was out of gas as it was.
“So he won't be waiting at the police station for me?”
Grex shook his head, pouring two cups of tea and sitting one in front of me before easing into a chair with the other. “No. However, if he sees you enter it, he won't hesitate to follow you and attack at an opportune moment. He will not be concerned overmuch about casualties, either. Anyone deemed in his way will die.”
“So what do we do?”
Grex grimaced around his tea. “Hope he was on another assignment, and moves on. An alternative would be to ambush and kill him.”
That didn't bear thinking about. “I'm not going to ambush and kill one of the good guys, Grex. Even if he is an asshole.”
Grex barked a laugh, spattering me and the table with blood. I wasn't cleaning that up, either. “Good guy? Do you know how many summoners he has killed? Angels kill summoners as a matter of course.”
My blood ran cold. “Wait, you mean it wasn't just the wings? Angels are hunting summoners? Why do we never see them, then?”
This was big news, if true. Grex gave me a look. “Because the summoners invariably die. Even the best of us find fighting angels directly difficult, and no witnesses mean no sightings.”
Well, if the demons were banished on the death of the summoner, or killed before... yeah it could make sense, but still, you'd think someone would know.
Wait. “You mean the recent attacks? The dead summoners with no apparent or demon or terrorist causes, some of those may be angel intervention?”
Grex nodded. “I'd dare to say most, actually. Very few demons get the chance to kill summoners.”
Well, at least he didn't insult my intelligence by saying they wouldn't.
“Would an angel make a kill of theirs look like it wasn't, in order to blame someone else?” That seemed slightly underhanded to me.
Grex shook his head. “No, but in many cases they don't have to. A sword wound looks much like another sword wound, for example. Light that burns to ash is no different from fire that burns to ash. Such kills are easy to mistake if one does not know or admit the existence of the true cause. After all, before demons gained ready access to this world, how many humans admitted their existence?”
He had a point.
The police needed to know. The Summoner Corps needed to know. The public at large needed to know.
“I know what you are thinking, my lady. And I wish you to reconsider; no good will come from this, and the angels have allies on Earth. You will paint a large target upon your back.”
My phone chose that moment to ring. I pulled it out, amazed it had managed to survive in my robe pocket all this time; it was tougher than it looked. My radio hadn't fared nearly as well and was half melted. I looked and the caller ID showed it was from Sarah.
I had expected this call sooner. I hit accept and her voice came out so loud I could have had the phone in another room and still heard it. “Snow, are you alright!?!?”
“I'm fine, or fine-ish. Are you alright? How's the team?” I could hear why she had to yell, from the sirens and crackling, I'd guess the fires weren't out yet. A glance at the time proved why... it had been less than a minute since I'd been there, engaging Verborax.
“The team's fine,” she answered. What happened after you aced the demon? Where did you go, and why aren't you here?!?”
Great, she thought I deserted. I guess I can't blame her, she didn't know. “I didn't kill the demon, something else did. I had to run to draw it away, too many civilians were at risk. Well, that and Grex was wounded; we made it chase us.”
Having a demon chase you instead of civilians was a time-honored and accepted tactic, especially if it made the demon forego massive property damage. Usually, it was a hard plan to follow because any demon summoned was on a mission. Never mind that what chased me wasn't actually a demon.
Baiting an angel was easier than my normal job; all I had to do was show up.
“Fine, whatever, where are you now?”
I didn't really want to answer that, but it'd be obvious the moment I stepped outside the door. “My apartment.”
I could hear the pause on the other end. “....What?”
“I'm at my apartment. It was the only place I could think of that would be safe. The thing that aced the demon was very strong. Were there any witnesses at the scene?” It would be nice to have some corroboration.
“No, everyone who was still around and looking just saw a light show and heard the screams. Look, the office is closer; you going to be able to meet us there?”
My car was at the office. I turned to Grex, to see him stitching up his wing. I remembered my own and began the process of drawing them back into my back. “No, I don't think I have transportation.” My team was on foot too; how would they be getting back?
“Roger. I'll send someone to come get you. Sarah out.”
Great. Just great. “Grex, more tea.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The wait wasn't long; a mere fifteen minutes later a familiar knock sounded on the door. “Hey! Hello, Snow! Open up please!”
I was closer so I opened it for once. Karen took a step in, mouth open to say something, and stopped, looking at Grex and I could only assume all the blood. I pulled her in and shut the door, so the wards would reactivate.
Karen finally settled on “What happened to you two?”
No sooner had I opened my mouth to tell her than she raised a hand; “No, wait, don't tell me. The debrief is downtown. Seems somehow there are a dozen dead and two buildings that are a complete write-off, or near enough that we will be paying for new ones out of discretionary.”
“Fine. But Grex is staying here, he's hurt.”
I wasn't much better. Sure, I was physically fine, but I was so tired that feeling dead would be a step up; I had literally used everything I had. Add to that I felt queasy, as if my stomach were upset or I had acid reflux, but all over instead of localized. I recognized the sensation, from the last time I'd had a power imbalance, the night Cords and I went to the museum. I hadn't drank this time, though.
I knew Grex wasn't about to let me out without and escort, but that escort didn't have to be him. “Abnex, Sarex, veni huc!”
The twins poofed into existence instantly with a hint of sulfur and a swirl of smoke, looking around wildly. “Abnex, come help me.”
He arrived just in time, getting an arm around me just as my knees started to give. “Run into a bit of trouble, my lady?”
Sarex was pointing at Grex and laughing silently. His eyebrow was raised and posture was slouched, but his eyes were tight. “Sarex, take point. Keep a good look out.”
“What are we facing, my lady?” Abnex asked.
“Grex said he was an angel, and he looked the part to me.”
The twins both drew weapons, their faces grim and bloodless. Sarex drew her wings in tight and all but marched down the hall without a word. Abnex managed to keep me upright even though I was pretty much just leaning on him by this point, and kept up with his sister. Karen followed behind us all, her own athame out. I could feel the skepticism weighing down her gaze; I wished she'd focus behind us and not on my back, but I couldn't really order her to since she outranked me.
“Abnex, can you two handle an angel if one attacks?”
Abnex nodded, his face away from mine. “Depending on the rank of it, yes. We can handle your average run of the mill angel.”
He cut off with an almost audible snap; there was something he wasn't saying about this. He'd also readily admitted the existence of angels. No doubt if I ask why I wasn't told before, it would be because I never asked; that's how these things usually went.
Karen was rolling her eyes by the time we reached the parking lot, but her hand was wrapped around her athame and Thor was out. They were both watching the twins more than their surroundings, but I'd take what I could get.
Abnex deposited me in the back seat with his sister and took the front. Remembering the beams of light I could understand the precaution. I stretched out so I couldn't readily be seen from the air or ground and tried not to shake; the reaction was getting worse.
Karen got in, looking back at us. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” I told her. “I'm taking no chances. What I fought was powerful, and I'm in no shape for round two.”
It wasn't until Sarex started stroking my hair that I realized my head as in her lap. Which seemed a very bad place for it, but it was too late to move.
It seemed Karen was taking that much seriously, at least, because Thor didn't get in the back; he must be flying overhead keeping a lookout. A great idea as long as he didn't stay too close and lead the angel to us.
The angel was probably long gone by now, cursing my name with his buddies on his cloud, or whatever. I really wanted to believe that.
We pulled into the parking garage without incident, the sunlight cutting out into gloom was actually a bit of a relief. Abnex helped me out; my knees had recovered, mostly.
Karen stopped in front of me with a frown. “You sure you're up for this? You don't look well at all.”
“We're already here, let's just get this done.”
She stopped me with a hand on my arm; I managed to stop Abnex from cutting her in half, but she didn't even spare him a glance. “Snow, this isn't an attack or an inquisition. It's a debrief, and it can wait.”
I waved her on ahead; I hoped she wasn't picking up more than my fear and irritation. “No, it can't, that's the problem. People have to be warned.”
With a shrug Karen walked, taking the lead. Thor took up the rear, landing just behind Sarex with a muted thump. He was too casual to have seen anything.
It wasn't until we were in the office that I relaxed. This was the second safest spot in the city. I got a few stares, but the rumor mill hadn't had time to travel far just yet. We all piled into a conference room; there were too many of us to fit in the Chief's office, and I wasn't dismissing anyone. Karen dismissed Thor, and we waited.
It took another twenty minutes for my team to arrive, most of it spent in complete silence.
Then they all piled in, with Sarah and Judge taking seats on either side of me. No one sat on the other side of the table.
A moment later and the Chief walked in; he had to have been watching or had someone watch. He sat across from us, and Karen took the seat next to his with an awkward smile.
A moment after that, the Captain came in, big and boisterous. “And what have we here? A team willing to set entire new standards in collateral damage. Well done, well done!”
Well, that didn't sound accusatory at all. His smile was wide enough, and the tone was joking, but I wasn't convinced.
Sarah was. “All part of the plan sir, just before we ask for raises. Clearly, those requests will be granted without complaint, right?”
“Oh absolutely, Sarah. I'll just crap the money out, and we'll be golden, right?”
“Enough,” The Chief cut the banter off by growling that single word. “What happened an hour ago?”
He was looking at me, so I started things off. “We, that is Sarah's team and I, responded to a request for backup on a demon call downtown, somewhere around 5th and Kennedy. I'm unsure of the exact location. Before we reached the first scene we were attacked by a demon on Kennedy. Having no choice, we engaged.”
And we hadn't had one. The only proper choice when a demon attack was so public was to take it down as fast as possible to minimize casualties. It was even in the handbook I'd slept through reading, months ago.
The Chief looked from me to Sarah. Like me, she took that as her cue. “I ordered everyone out of the transport, and Snow covered us with her power and demon. We spread out and took up covered positions; the demon was on the roof, utilizing a very hot flame indiscriminately.”
Huh, I didn't even know Sarah knew that word; I'd never have guessed. I refocused as Sarah continued.
“Our transport was hit directly after and exploded. Snow and her demon engaged the enemy directly, and the collateral rose, as a result, finally culminating in the death of the target that attacked us. I did not see how, but it was sudden, so it must have been a kill-shot of some magnitude. It was that shot which later brought the Scorpio office complex down.”
“A clean collapse?” The chief asked. What, the office complex the angel's sword hit collapsed? Just from that?
“Very clean sir; straight down. Luckily we had time to evacuate.” Sarah answered. A small relief, at least. I knew I'd be looking up how many dead and injured later.
The Chief looked at me again, so my turn again. “Right. We were engaged against the demon, whose name is Verborax, by the way, and my power was working but kind of useless. Grex went in to fight him hand to hand, and we were just starting to make some headway when another player showed up. A large well-built guy sporting white wings and a sword that cut through both the demon we were fighting and the building as if it wasn't there. He asked me some confusing questions and then attacked, leveling the facade of the building behind us.”
“Wait, what sort of questions?” At least he didn't call me on my almost blatant lie; Verborax had the advantage in our fight. Maybe he felt it wasn't worth mentioning.
I really didn't want to admit them all, but I had to give him and the Captain something. I also needed to omit the fact that I was flying at the time. “One question was, 'what was I doing', and another was 'where was my sword'. I don't remember the rest. I got the impression he thought he knew me, but I'd never even seen him before, let alone met him.”
The Captain clued into what I was saying immediately; The Chief didn't seem to get it. “Did the other demon give a name?”
“No sir, the other player did not give a name; he just called me an abomination and attacked. I used that perceived hatred to lead him away. Also, I don't think he was a demon; Grex identified him as an angel.”
I was about to continue on, but the Chief held up a hand. “No such thing, summoner Numens. Angels do not exist, only demons. What you saw was likely a demon that looked the part, much like your own summon, Grex.”
That guy had looked nothing like Grex, not really; he had lacked the vaguely predatory air and slightly off body lines Grex pulled off without thinking. He had looked more like an Adonis, a vision of stern perfection that was somehow uncompromising. That and he used a light that was so bright it was painful as a weapon; that was literally the opposite of most of demon-kind, who couldn't stand bright light.
I didn't really want to argue, even though the Chief was wrong. “If you say so, sir. However, I will hazard a guess and say he's the one that's been taking shots at the demons we've been finding dead. He is certainly strong enough for that.”
The chief pondered, hand under his chin in a classic thinking pose. “Just the demons? Not our own?”
No way; it didn't fit what I knew of the guy. He had confronted Verborax and myself directly when a potshot would have killed us both. “No sir; if he was lining up on ours, we'd have fatalities by now.”
“Agreed. So... he chased you to your apartment? Does he know where our summoners live now?”
If he didn't five minutes with a phone book would show him. “No sir, I managed to lose him before then.”
They didn't need to know how I did that, either. Teleportation was one of the holy grails of the corps; it existed but was so rare it might as well be legend.
“Any other observations you can recall now?”
“No sir.”
“Alright, you're dismissed. I'll expect your report on my desk tomorrow morning.”
I sighed. There was a huge drawback for being one of the few sane ones. “Yes, sir.”
I got out of there as they turned to - or on - Sarah again. No doubt they would expect her to account for each bullet spent in the fight.
The rest of my team was still downstairs, getting looked at by a nurse. Minor wounds, and I was thankful that was all they were. I should probably get my burns looked at; I hadn't even seen them yet, and they were tender, just patches of skin that were slightly more red than my standard. Of course, they still stood out since my standard was bleach white, but they didn't look too bad.
“Snow!”
I turned, Cords was coming out of the dispatch room. He all but ran to me, stopping with an audible screech of rubber soles on the floor.
He grabbed my hand and pushed back my hood, staring, focusing silently on my burns. His eyes tightened and his teeth ground together.
“That bad? I was just going to get them checked. They don't hurt all that much, anymore.”
Maybe I'd need to wear the hood all the time after all.
He put that short-lived worry to bed. “No, no... they aren't bad. You can just tell if you know what to look for... but I'd heard you had gotten burned. I just didn't know how serious.”
He straightened up and blew a breath. “Right, to the hospital you go. I can't leave the dispatch room unmanned for long, but I want to hear about it later, alright?”
I nodded. “I don't plan to go to the hospital, though, just downstairs. My team is getting checked there too, and I wanted to see how they were.”
“Well that's no good; burns are something that should be checked out by a professional, even if they don't look like much; too easy for infection to set in and spread. Go to a hospital, soon!”
He tried to put on a stern face but spoiled it with a smile. Honestly, his concern was a little cute. I wasn't going to say it was unfounded, either. I headed downstairs.
Wait a minute, how had he known about my condition again? My own team hadn't known until Sarah called me... on my personal phone. And I don't remember mentioning how I was hurt. Was Cords tapping my phone?
It was true that I didn't think the 'angel' (hereafter referred to as “doofus”) was picking off our own, at least not yet. But That was probably because he hadn't had a chance to. If he had, we wouldn't have had witnesses and would be blaming a demon for it. The report I wrote reflected that.
I caught myself scratching my arm, and forced myself to stop. Healing burns was very itchy.
The incident yesterday had done what overwork hadn't; benched me. I wasn't complaining, however.
My warning had been taken seriously, and the number of patrols was temporarily increased. Of course, the people on those patrols weren't exactly happy with me, but they would be less happy to meet doofus in a dark alley with no backup.
I was fine, mostly. More than fit to keep going; the problem was Grex.
He was in terrible shape, with only one working wing and enough holes in him to kill most normal people. A summoner with no summon was a dog without teeth; all bark, no bite. The summoner was benched, banished to a desk until the demon was back or another was bound. However, I was hurt, and that proved enough with Grex added in to get me a few greatly appreciated days off.
So we sat at my kitchen table, drinking tea, while I tried to think of anything, any questions I missed. I was going through a lot of tea.
The twins had finally finished cleaning up all the blood and feathers, and were also at the table, nursing their own cups. I felt kind of bad about making them clean up, but not bad enough to do it myself or bad enough to wait while Grex healed enough to be able to do it. Grex was on the couch, asleep to all appearances.
“So, Angels.” The twins flinched as one when I broke the silence.
“What about them, Miss Numens?” Abnex managed to ask.
“Angels are hunting summoners, and not demons?”
Abnex released a relieved breath. That was odd; what question had he thought I was going to ask? “Yes. Angels have been killing summoners when they find them – at least when they aren't on a mission or have time. But since there are far fewer angels than demons or summoners, it's a bit rare. Most angels haven't even seen Earth for thousands of years anyway; like us they can't just pop in unless invited.”
I couldn't help but feel that most of that information was volunteered as a smokescreen. “So angels are getting invited? There are angel summoners?”
Sarex grinned but answered seriously. “No, not exactly. Only the big G can command angels. But Earth is supposed to be hands off unless stated otherwise, and sometimes angels get missions from the big G and see a chance to do some damage to us. And before you ask, I call him the big G because he might know I'm talking about him if I use his full name.”
“Alright, I'll bite. Why?”
Sarex looked stricken, but Abnex was cool as he answered. “Why what? Why the name thing? My dear sister is an idiot; If God's attention is on you, then it's on you; a simple name change doesn't change intent.”
A good deflection, for all that we three knew exactly what it was. I clarified. “No, why are angels attacking summoners at all?”
Sarex clasped her fingers together. “Well, uh... because summoners are breaking one of the laws; one of the major laws, by consorting with us.”
I pressed the advantage. “And normal people sinning aren't?”
Abnex leaned in. “Sometimes, but the angels have a standing order that allows them to take steps, whereas for normal sinners they don't.”
Alright, begged the same question. “Why is that, exactly?”
Sarex popped to her feet. “We can't say.”
She headed towards the teapot again, seemingly for something to do.
Of course, she had just raised another question. “Why can't you say?”
Abnex joined his sister at the teapot, working on his own mug. “Orders; we were specifically ordered not to tell anyone why angels were after summoners if the question ever came up. And the orders are from one we cannot ignore, and you can't override, Miss Numens.”
All well and good, but it led to another question: “Unless that being has forbidden you to interfere, tell me who ordered you to keep silent.”
Not really phrased as a question, but it worked better this way. “Lucifer himself ordered our silence.”
Well, yeah. No way I was going to pull rank on him; I was just a fake low ranking lord; the lowest with an entire realm or land or whatever it was called to rule, in fact.
I suppose I could always ask Lucifer – set up a meeting through Grex and ask away – but I didn't see any way how that wouldn't go wrong. I wasn't stupid enough to think that I could get the better of something so old, evil, and powerful. Not with my intelligence or scruples; I hadn't exactly beaten Grex at his own game, after all.
“Alright.” I stepped up to the teapot myself and made my own tea. Then I made another cup.
Then it was time to check on Grex. I took the two cups and carried it into the living room. Grex was stretched out on the couch, on his stomach and breathing shallowly. He wasn't asleep, though; he stirred when I walked in. Why he'd even insisted on recovering here was a mystery; he'd heal faster in his home plane.
It was also another question that he'd refused to answer. Well, he'd answered that he wanted to be present to protect me, but he really didn't look like he could protect anything at the moment. The twins hadn't said anything, but I could feel the anxiety they held; I didn't think it was me.
They had stayed here the night with me; they were probably due back home to torture kids or something. “Abnex, Sarex... you can go back to what you were doing. Just come quickly if I call, alright?”
They both bowed in unison, deeply. “As you command, Mistress.” They drained their tea before leaving.
I sat down in my comfy chair and turned the television on with a sigh. I should probably read or work on something, some spell or technique to help us win next time, but my focus was too scattered for that. I felt useless.
Grex shifted, grasping his tea. I was an idiot; he had no way to drink it without sitting up.
“Hang on.” I went and retrieved a bendy straw; I'd taken some flack for stocking those, but who was laughing now?
Now more hydrated, Grex relaxed.
“So... angels and conspiracies.”
He tensed again. “Yes, angels and conspiracies.”
I sat again and tried not to scratch my arm. “Care to tell me about it?”
“I can't. I heard you asking the twins, you should know that.”
“Really? Not even if it endangers my life? Wouldn't knowing about it make me safer?”
Grex turned to the television, and it came on by itself. A neat trick. “No.”
“Really?” Not knowing about some demonic conspiracy to keep things including angels thirsting for my blood was going to keep me safer?
“I can tell you to make sure to wear your earrings when you leave this space. If you forget even once, I may not be able to protect you anymore.”
As if I didn't know that already. “Do you think I should tell the public about the presence of angels? Press the issue?”
Grex turned to look at me. “If you do the angels and their allies will descend on this city like a very biblical plague. I don't think I need to go into more detail.”
This wasn't the first time Grex had mentioned allies. “What allies do the angels have?”
Grex smiled, changing the channel to some fishing show. “Humans, same as demons do. Take the church for example; you really think all the priests and true believers would just tell an angel no if the angel presented itself and gave them a holy mission from God?”
Probably not. “Has that happened before?”
Grex nodded. “Several times, actually. Many summoners have lost their lives to human action, after all.”
Wait. Wait just a minute. “You're saying the terrorists, the ones that target summoners, have angels putting them up to it?”
Grex shrugged, then winced. “Well, I can't state that for sure, but some in the past have. I'm unsure of what they call themselves now, but your mother would know more.”
“Wait, Mom knows angels really exist?”
Grex scoffed. “Of course not! Any human who knows is killed as a matter of course, either outright or sacrificed in suicide missions. But your mother knows the terrorist organizations involved, and that they used to claim to get messages from God. I can't imagine that has changed with time, but if you need confirmation, asking her should provide it easily.”
I wasn't that interested; the major group had changed their name last week, but I hadn't even bothered to learn the new one. They knew enough not to try anything here, in one of the major seats of the Corps's power. Except that wouldn't be true if an angel told them to come here due to meeting me, would it?
“So what does this mean for us? By your own admission, the angel isn't going to let this go.”
He frowned. “I am aware. I am thinking.”
The next question needed to be asked, but I didn't want to. I didn't want to think like this. “If you weren't burdened by me... could you drive him off or kill him?”
Grex grinned, a feral savage grin I hadn't seen in some time; it brought me back instantly to the night of the contract. “Without a doubt, my beloved Mistress.”
I really didn't want to kill an angel. Or order Grex to do it; that was basically the same as doing it myself. But I couldn't let the angel kill me or other summoners either since we were the ones actually slowing the tide of demonic destruction. The angel we'd fought had killed the demon, sure, but only because it thought I was one of his. It hadn't targeted Grex directly in our fight, it had been gunning for me.
“Say Grex, why did that angel think I was an angel?”
He snorted. “As I stated before, I believe your wings caused the misinterpretation. They are mostly white, and seem white from a distance, as an angel's wings are.”
My wings weren't that white, were they? The angel's wings had been glowing they were so white. I was sure their feathers made mine look dingy, even before the spots of gray were factored in. “Was that the only reason?”
Grex paused a moment – too long – and then continued. “A reasonable suspicion. It is possible your power also confused it; you have a... unique signature that is unlike much of creation. It is easy to theorize this also confused the angel, as they are not known to be great thinkers.”
Grex still had a lot of pent-up hatred, it seemed. “You keep saying 'it' Grex. Why do you refer to angels that way?”
Grex grinned again, showing fewer teeth this time at least. “Because angels have no gender, despite their male appearance; they do not have the freedom for such.”
Alright, I guess that made sense... but wait a minute, no it didn't. “But I clearly have a gender Grex, and it isn't male. So how would an angel mistake that?”
His reply was quick and felt practiced. “Angels are allowed to take other appearances if their mission calls for it. Lucifer himself took several while acting on God's behalf.”
Grex looked...expectant. I felt like I was missing something here. My power was muted at the time, but unlike 'much of creation', my gender was apparent and my wings different, yet I could appear as something else were I an actual angel and had a mission that called for it. So why look so close to an angel?
Wait a minute... “Grex, does my power feel like an angel's?” I hadn't had a chance to really get a feel for the one attacking me; I'd been too busy trying not to die.
Grex sighed and nodded. “Your power does feel similar to one, yes. Similar enough to be confused for such. Demons are more discerning, of course, but angels are not known to be great thinkers.”
Grex was biased, right. So I had all the power and powers of a ruler of the 9th circle of Hell, yet felt like an angel, or close enough that angels could be fooled? Something weird was going on here, I just knew it. Something beyond the obvious.
Ah, I had it. Why would Lucifer care enough to forbid demons to tell summoners or any other human that angels existed? To sow despair? That might be right, but if that was it, why not just tell us instead that the angels seemed to be anti-humanity anyway? As it was, the church was already telling us we were doomed for our sins, how would knowing angels were out there and active make that any different?
This was making my head hurt. Well, hurt more. I finished off my tea and got up.
“Whatever. We aren't done with this Grex, not by a long shot. But I'm out of questions for now.”
I couldn't just demand him to tell me what he knew, or I'd be here forever listening to the history of existence from his point of view; that was one of the oldest tricks in the book.
More tea was called for. Grex had decided he didn't want anymore when he started hiding things from me. Petty? Sure, but I was only human, despite what others thought.
When I came back, fresh tea in hand, another fishing show was on. A pretty odd choice in programming, but Grex was riveted. “Alright, so what should we do? Move? Try to get a transfer?”
Grex risked a glance over and nodded, carefully. “That is one option.”
I didn't want to do that; get run out of my home. “What are the others?”
Grex shrugged. “Kill the angel. If it's still here, it's the one you need to worry about. Sure, it's reported in by now, but angels need a reason to descend to Earth. Once here, they can stay for a compelling reason, but they need a reason first. While the death of the first angel might give reason to some, the first angel is the only one that has seen and sensed you. Kill it, and any search will be doomed to failure with the precautions we take.”
I still didn't want to kill the angel. “Other options?”
“I do not know. Let me think on it.” Well, that was a whole lot of help.
We sat in silence, watching some guy fish for monsters from the deep. Meanwhile, I worked the problem.
After some hours of that, there was a knock on the door. Since Grex wasn't in any condition to, I got up to answer it. Checking through the peephole first (reinforced so that no one could drill through it, I'd seen seven) revealed Karen, tapping her foot with her arms crossed.
I unlocked the door and stepped back; even so, she almost hit me with it. “Snow! Why is your door locked?!?
I stared at her until she blushed. At least she shut it before she went rooting around in my fridge.
I locked and tried to ignore how she was now inhaling my fresh fruit. “So how do you feel?” she asked between bites; at least she didn't try talking with her mouth full.
“I'm fine. Ready to go and do my part. Grex is still in bad shape, though.”
“Really? How bad?”
I shrugged. “Check for yourself; he's still hanging out on my couch.”
I realized too late that my chair was open in the living room. I hurried, only to find it taken already by the spirit of gluttony, who was staring at Grex from across the room as if she could see his wounds from there.
“You can't check him out from there.”
She didn't bother clearing her throat this time. “It's okay, I can tell just fine from here. So um... why exactly is he still here, bleeding on your couch?”
With a sigh, I took the other chair, the less comfortable one. “He insists on staying. Something about a worry over my safety. I've ordered him, but he refuses to go, citing our pact.”
Karen sobered up quick. She sat up and her athame was simply out.“Really?”
I waved her off. “He obeys otherwise. He just has veto room when he thinks I'm in danger. You DO remember the circumstances of my pact, right?”
Karen slid her athame back into her sleeve. “Yeah, sure, of course I do.”
I couldn't resist a face palm. “You don't remember a thing, do you?”
“Of course not!” She agreed pleasantly.
“You're an idiot, Karen.”
“Don't be like that, Snow,” she pouted. “I'm here to help you. Well and relax, unwind, and steal your beer and food after a long day. So, how far have you gotten?”
“To a solution? I've no idea. I'm working on something; it depends on if the angel is after me specifically.”
“Demon.” Karen countered bluntly, eyes rolling to meet mine.
“Whatever.” Grex had already mentioned it was an angel in her presence once before, and she knew Grex couldn't lie to me, so why the insistence? Even underselling it like she was, it was odd.
Was her strange persistence in this her own? “Anyway, if the jerk, whatever it is, is after me specifically there is something that might work, but I'm not sure if I can pull it off. If he's after us all, then my plan won't work and the only plan I have is to bait a trap and kill him.”
There was no sense needling Karen by referring to something that looked like a 'he' by using 'it'. Sure, she hadn't seen it, but she knew my description, and I wasn't sure what her game was yet. Of course, for all I knew Karen didn't know that angels had no gender. I hadn't until told, after all.
“Well, don't keep me in suspense! What's your plan?” Karen asked, getting close.
I gently pushed her out of my personal space. “To fake my own death.”
Karen whistled. “Not a bad thought.”
Grex piped up with a groan. “It will not work.”
I forced down the spike of irritation. “Why not?”
“The angel is not here for you. The angel is here for some other reason.”
Yes, I know Grex, you've said that already. But you also said it would stick around to kill me; make up your mind!
“What other reason, Grex?”
He was grinning that insufferable grin, I couldn't see his face but somehow I just knew it. “I do not know; however if I must hazard a guess, I'd say it might have to do with the increase in demon activity in this city.”
Wait, that didn't follow. Just what was he playing at? “But Grex, you told me earlier he wouldn't be interested in that.”
“No, I said it wouldn't be interested in demons themselves; a spike in demonic activity, possibly caused by humans or something else. They would investigate such a thing.”
That was quite a suggestion, and from the look he was now giving me, twisted around as he was, he had more to say. He wasn't offering it, however, which must mean he didn't want Karen to hear. Something for later.
“So, how do we find this guy? Find the rogue responsible for all the other summonings?” We'd had real luck with that so far.
“That would certainly help. By finding the summoner involved, we may use them as bait instead of yourself.”
Well, I guess it shouldn't be a surprise that he had picked up on that. He didn't sound happy with the idea, but I would make the best bait. Or was that my hubris talking? “Well that's acceptable, but we've been looking for weeks to no avail. Unless you have a lead on that?”
Grex shook his head. “I do not; however there may be a way find the summoner for you.”
I looked to Karen for good measure, and she shook her head.
“I'm open to suggestions. I think Karen is too; why don't you regale us?”
“It's simple. Send us to look. It is not as if we cannot find him, or each other when asked.”
I found myself sitting, and wondering if I'd been sitting before. Could it really be that easy? I'd been trying police work in my spare time, push pins in a map, talking to witnesses (other summoners mainly) and gotten nowhere. If it was that easy, why hadn't anyone else done it? There were a few suggestive locations, areas to check, but nothing definitive or small, and I hadn't had time and the Captain hadn't had the manpower to send on wild goose chases.
Karen was quick to answer that through an objection. “Now wait a minute. How many demons are you saying Snow can handle, here? Because the number of demons needed to blanket the city in a grid search is about double what we have access to.”
Grex didn't respond, of course. Karen wasn't his boss; I was.
I didn't ask because I was sure I knew the answer and if I was right, I didn't want her to know. Secrets; summoners gathered them like wine and hoped they aged well. Or maybe it was just me.
Time for a slight misdirection. “And of course, that means I can get involved from a position of safety, right Grex?”
He played along. “That idea might have influenced my thinking, yes.”
He knew and approved. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing.
Karen wasn't deterred. “How many, Snow?”
I shrugged. “I don't really know, I've never tried to hold more than three – you know that. But it is more than three and combined with a good map, it might be enough. Certainly, if Grex is suggesting it, it can't be a bad idea.”
“You aren't talking about that stupid map again, are you?” Karen groaned out.
“Hey, the map is not stupid! It's old fashioned police work, and it showed the first-week site attacks drew a pentagram!”
Karen rolled her eyes. “Of course it did, because pentagrams are the most overused thing ever, in every situation demons get involved in. Look, we went to the center of it, we went to all the cardinal points of it, and yes someone made a ritual circle of the entire town. But whatever that circle was meant for didn't happen, and the summoner was not there; not in any location designed to take best advantage. Since then the attacks have been random.”
I shook my head. It wasn't random; the summoner or summoners knew ADTF procedure and response times. They knew where we were, and attacked us, or attacked to draw us out. I wasn't willing to say it was an inside job yet since the internet exists, but the target of the demonic forays was clear. And demons both knew their own and could sense each other if directed.
The problem was a power issue; (sending weaker demons against stronger usually didn't work) most demons don't have the power to sense their own from a distance. But with enough coverage, I really could check everywhere, given time.
I idly wondered if I could sense demons, and if so, what my range was. It was a power, after all.
Something to try another time; Karen was talking. “....you can try it if you want, but don't stress yourself. I'll approve it as your superior on that grounds. Also, you should totally let me watch.”
Yeah, that wasn't a good thing to have happen ever; I was probably going to summon more than anyone thought I should be able to. In fact, the best way to handle it would simply be to let Grex handle it... but Grex probably wasn't in the best shape to.
“Sure. It'll take me some time to set up, though. I'll work it out.” Even with a dedicated circle, summoning demons was inherently dangerous. The more demons, the more dangerous.
Unless of course you handle it like I was going to; I had another crazy plan, already. Something I'd have to discuss with an expert whose head won't explode at the very idea. And I didn't even have to lie to Karen or anyone else; I could pull the summoning she expected off too.
“Alright Karen, you've eaten my snacks, probably snuck some of my booze somehow when I wasn't looking and sat in the only good chair in my living room. Anything else you want to do before you go back to your own apartment to sleep?”
Karen blushed a little; I was pretty sure she was faking that. “Well, when you put it that way... yes?”
I sighed; of course. “What, then, do you want?”
“I want to play your games some first.”
Was I actually going to have to buy another television just for Karen to use while here? “Fine, whatever, knock yourself out.”
It was night, but I couldn't sleep. Not that I had insomnia, but instead I had things to do. I'd taken a nap after Karen had left, but even after four hours I felt tired.
Regardless, It was time to put my plan into action.
Grex stood beside me, and promptly at twelve-oh-one we stepped through the door of my apartment closet, coming out the other side atop the same windswept crag my bed had been transported to, so long ago. I felt the burn of opening the doorway, and I was already dreading the long walk down. It was almost a complete reversal of the first time I was here; I could probably fly down, but this time Grex would be the one having trouble.
So we took the stairs – all of the stairs.
We made somewhat good time at least, and I took a few earrings off along the way, letting my wings out. Because we were still winding our way along the outside of a spoke of rock, and I wanted to be able to at least try to catch us if either one of us fell.
It was annoying to be careful, to waste the time, but we could afford to waste it. My last sojourn here had proved that time in this place was mutable. I had recently learned that I commanded the flow somewhat, and right now our trek down was only going to take us about an hour of Earth time. Perhaps even less.
And I was working on my cardio the entire time; win/win, or so I told myself.
Our destination was the castle I hadn't been to, the one at the center of the realm or layer. The one that was Grex's home. The one that was also the home of all his loyal subjects. All his loyal subjects that may or may not be pissed at me for usurping. Which, come to think of it, was another good reason for keeping my earrings off.
Grex seemed pretty cavalier about the whole thing, walking along as if there wasn't a care in the world. Or walking along as if there wasn't a care in the world while in significant pain, but close enough.
It was dark here, in this realm or plane of existence or whatever it was (I felt that maybe I needed a doctorate I didn't have to get the terminology correct) was in perpetual dusk, not truly dark, but not light either. Once we hit the tree line of the truly enormous forest, occasional birdsong interrupted the silence, and things rustled in the distance.
Now, however, the ground was level, and we could move faster. Grex ran while I flew, trying to work the kinks out and get used to the wings.
An eternity which may or may not have been measured in minutes later, we came upon the outskirts proper of the realm. I knew Limbo was big, in much the same way I knew a million was a large number. But seeing it now, it was as if trillions had been turned into acres; just flying up showed that my new improved eyes couldn't see the border, in any direction, even the one I'd come from. I mean, the spire was right there, and yet, I couldn't see the river I knew to be beyond it, just more forest broken by the occasional plain.
And for me to see those, they had to be huge too.
Aside from the clear scale of the place, it wasn't all that different than what one would see on Earth. Except darker. The sun never seemed to truly set here; it had been hours, and it was still dusk, with light still barely streaming from the West.
The village was large, by village standards, and built according to the standards of ancient architecture, all rushes, wood, and mud. There were gardens behind every house, and a stone well sunk in the center of the village square. There were fields of some kind of grain I didn't recognize on the other side from us.
The biggest part of the place was the palisade, which wound its way around the entirety of all the buildings. There were two large gates of wood that looked to be all of one piece rather than lashed or nailed logs, one on the road in (which we were on) and one on the road out, winding through the fields.
I landed in front of the nearest one as Grex stopped. It wasn't open, and I didn't want to be rude.
As it turned out, I didn't need to worry about that. The gate opened immediately on silent hinges. I could feel them coming my way; they weren't demons, but if I felt them here, then they couldn't be human? Or maybe they could; there was still much I didn't know. Being the first summoner to make this journey with a willing guide changes a lot of rules.
If I could trust my bosses with the intel, I'd already be making history – but I held off on what exactly my contract allowed me to do, how far it allowed me to go. I didn't want them to know until I knew more.
On the other hand, the people now coming out of the gate? According to Grex, either of us could simply command them to silence.
They were dressed in togas or robes, with grass rope sandals on their feet. The first, an older man with hair just beginning to gray, had beaten bronze and copper jewelry. The necklace looked familiar – a silhouette of a winged woman. The other two of the three had bronze spears and those odd open faced helmets with crests.
When they got within ten feet they threw themselves prostrate on the ground – in front of me.
“My Lady, what is your will?”
That was a bit surprising but probably shouldn't have been. “Nothing. Just making a tour. Get up, please.”
I strode past them through the gate, and they fell in behind me... and behind Grex, of course.
“If I may ask, My Lady, to what do we owe this honor?”
There was a sense of something here; the souls that lived in this village, this place. I could see them, and they were dark, shot through with a kind of murk.
But they weren't Grex dark.
There didn't seem to be any other demons around either, enforcing their will on the populace. No pit lords striding about with lashes in hand, no pits of fire (not that I really expected any) and no people suffering under the yoke of tyranny. The fact that no one was outside their house right now but my escort was immaterial, I knew where they all were; there was a sense of mine which I'd only attributed to demons before. But these were clearly not demons.
I shared a look with Grex to confirm it. He knew; he'd known all along this was part of things. Either a situation to tell me about this just hadn't come up... or he'd engineered it so that it wouldn't. He dropped his eyes and lowered his head for a second, and I got the feeling he'd be bowing if not for our audience.
So, the latter then.
I raised an eyebrow to let him know this wasn't over and signaled him to straighten up. Our audience had noticed this of course, but other than falling silent had taken no action.
“To be honest, um...”
“Oh, how rude of me. I am Sark, at your service. I believe you would call me a mayor of this, the village of Filat.”
“...Right. I'm Maeve. And to be honest, we are just passing through on our way to the keep.”
The keep, according to Grex, was the heart of this realm and the very seat of my power. Or as much a physical seat of my power as existed anywhere and any-when; explanations could be murky sometimes. This he'd bothered to tell me about, but it wasn't like I was looking for random excuses to go to Hell. Even setting foot there once was too many – but I had to do this, and I needed a secure spot to do it in; one that I was sure had no spies or bugs. Places just didn't come more secure than your own castle in Hell; especially if I swore all the demons who saw me there to secrecy.
“Ah.” Sark looked at me, or rather, my wings, and then looked to at Grex's wings. “We so rarely get... visitors, from the keep.”
He was being awfully delicate. “And you were worried that you had offended, somehow?”
He nodded. His two friends remained stoic, which was pretty incredible. This close to a demon you suspected had it in for you, armed only with a spear? These guys had big brass ones.
“Well, nothing like that. We were just following the road from the observation point and decided to stop in, rather than go around. To see if there was anything... odd, going on.”
There, that should be suitably menacing and demonic without being really twisted, sort of a 'we're always watching' sort of thing. I didn't really want to do that, I knew it was a form of torment for these poor souls, but I really didn't want them getting the wrong idea and sticking a spear in either of us.
He clutched his pendant so hard he probably cut himself. “I see.”
“Now, of course, we'll be going, just as soon as you open the other gate for us. Unless you have any other concerns?”
His face tightened. “No, we've no concerns. Our treatment thus far under Nargash has been most equitable.”
“Glad to hear it.” Who was Nargash? Knowing feudal systems, he was likely the count that ruled this area.
The people didn't seem to be starving, slaves, or dead, so he must be doing at least a decent job. Maybe I'd get to meet him.
The two flunkies, who hadn't introduced themselves, cranked open the other gate. No one spoke.
As soon as it was open enough to walk through without my wings touching it, I did so. Grex was right on my heels. “Have a nice day, village of Filat. Expect us back within a few hours. Thank you for your hospitality.”
Okay, maybe a bit snarky, but they hadn't even offered me anything to drink; that was hardly neighborly behavior.
“A pleasant journey, My Lady.”
The gate shut so fast the breeze ruffled my wings.
Grex met my raised eyebrow with a shrug. Whatever; I started walking.
Once we got far enough away that there was no chance at being overheard, Grex turned to me. “It might be best if we avoid other settlements, at least for now.”
Okay, now I was curious again. “Why?”
“Our yoke is light here, compared to those of other circles; therefore the populace is only used to seeing a demon when something is wrong, or there is an invasion.”
He looked into my expression and drew the wrong conclusion. “What is it? Invasions are rare, but have been known to happen.”
“Not that, Grex. I just find it amazing that you don't interact with the people here at all.”
Great, now he was defensive. “We are not to be their punishment; the knowledge that they could be in Heaven – that their existence could be perfect – is. Even as rebels we endeavor not to overstep our mandate.
I had to ask. I mean, I knew what the punishment for being one of the unbaptized was, but I didn't really get it. So far my circle was downright pleasant, and with the demons being hands-off...
“Why?”
“Angering Lucifer is not something anyone wants to do.”
Good point. But then again, why would he care? What was going on here, exactly? Weren't punishments dictated by the big G? And if they were, why would the universe's most notorious traitor care about them?
I was missing something, but I don't think Grex knew what it was either. And wasn't that odd, to think that someone as old as he could be fooled. I was beginning to think that the big G and Lucifer talked more than they let on to the rest of us... the only way any of this made sense was if Lucifer was still taking orders, reluctantly or no.
I really hoped I was missing something, there.
“Alright, we can walk around, I guess.”
“Or I can do this.” Grex replied, stopping.
He quickly drew a circle and chanted a string of words I vaguely recognized... and lifted up. Another word obliterated the circle and he flew up to join me, wings carefully clenched at his side.
There was only one thing to say to that. “Showoff.”
He grinned wide, showing me all his sharp teeth. “It's not as if I didn't teach you how.”
“Yeah, but it takes so much power for me to do it on Earth.” Flying without wings sucked for other reasons, too. Not the least of which you couldn't fly as fast, though your maneuverability was better; using the spell, you could literally stop or turn on a dime.
Most people threw up if they did that, however. I still remembered that fateful day in basic where some of the old hands started showing off; it hadn't been pretty.
The next hint of civilization was a town, and if it wasn't a roman town it was close. Multi-story stone and stucco buildings, elaborate fountains, more togas and robed people. The only thing that made me question it was there was no visible sign of water; no ocean harbor, no lake, no river, not even a pond. Weren't most old towns and cities built near water? This city also had a wall too, a large stone one with towers on the corners and massive gates. Every inch of the wall was patrolled by people in armor holding bows. The armor was made of scales and gleamed in the low light like bronze, and the helmets were different versions of the open face thing the villagers were sporting.
I wanted to go down there and talk to them, because there was no way that many people could run and hide from me in time, but Grex was right for all that he hadn't actually said it; we really were running tight on time.
This town also had one other thing the village hadn't; the road branched, with a fork leading right and left. It had to be to other cities.
On the one hand, I was torn. I really wanted to take the time to explore, ask questions, and learn. But something told me I'd be here for a long time soon enough – unless I ended up somewhere worse. So did I really want to rush things?
We passed overhead, our shadows causing many to look up. I could hear faint cries of surprise and possibly alarm that faded as we passed them by.
The next one up the chain was a full city, and it did look a lot like images of Rome. It had large palaces and temples and aqueducts and bridges, all in permanent white stone. It even had a coliseum, complete with cheering crowd, where two men were facing off against each other.
Well, suitably barbaric.
The next town was all wood, dirt streets, dirty animals, and dirty smoke. It was also half the population of the village of Filat, judging by the number of buildings. I was beginning to sense a trend here.
“Grex, are the population centers here arranged by civilization or development? I mean, the time frame when each civilization appeared?”
Grex took a breath and entered what passed for lecture mode from him. “Yes, simply. It's more complex than that of course; certain other cultures have their populations on the other side of the center.
He pointed off to the right a bit. “The Asiatic countries, for example, are that way, and the more modern civilizations like your own are that way.” Off to the left. “I dare say I could find a town in which you would be hard pressed to believe yourself anywhere other than the United States.”
Comforting, in a way. Yet horrifying, in another way.
“Maybe later.”
We worked our way up past the dark ages and into the glory of the medieval era, flying fast now. I could see the mountain we were headed towards, in front of me, small in the distance but growing larger with every wingbeat. My original timetable was shot to... well, here, since this place was just so big. I didn't look at the towns anymore, there was no time – and wasn't that an ironic statement.
There was no way anyone would ever mistake it for anything other than the seat of power.
It was a keep, sure, just as Grex had called it. It was a keep in the same way that a child's lego creation matched the word “house.”
Built on a mountain that up close that had to be bigger than Everest, built into the mountain in a way I'd never seen before, the keep was a large castle of gleaming black stone, easily as large as a city itself. Here and there were winged forms, flitting to and fro, balcony to gargoyle-bedecked balcony. The outside décor seemed Gothic.
The gates were huge, you could probably fit something the size of the titanic through them... and the top of the mountain was smoking; a volcano?
This was Grex's home. This was the twin's home. This was the seat of my power. Grex flew forward and I let him, slowing down. I could probably fly faster than any pursuit if I put my mind to it... as long as I had a headstart.
As we flew closer, the demons began to take notice; many of them rushed to meet us. As they got close enough to notice details (like leather armor and weapons made of black metal, or intricate outfits lined with gold and gems) the small crowd stopped in a spray of feathers, and somehow managed to prostrate themselves, in the air.
“My lady.” hit my ears as one voice from many throats.
Well, that answered that question.
So how to respond to this? “You may rise.”
The closest demons flipped themselves upright. (I really wanted to know how they did that sort of thing, they didn't even move and the breeze was pretty stiff. It was probably some demon magic thing.)
There were four of them; Three men, one woman. All four had charcoal black wings shot through with midnight black, and all four were well built, peak human physique levels that stopped just sort of gross. The three men had dark hair and eyes both that could either be dark brown or black depending on the light, while the woman had an ageless face that could mark her as either thirteen or thirty and a generous hourglass (if not so generous as mine).
“My Lady, what brings you here? How may we serve? We were under the impression that you were busy with mortal matters up above.” The first one said, his glance at Grex leaving no doubt where he'd got that impression.
I really should have planned this better, or at least gone over what I intended to say. I knew I couldn't afford to appear weak here.
“I have an issue, and you are all going to help me with it.”
He bowed again immediately. “Of course, my Lady.”
The woman spoke up: “Anything you require, my Lady.”
The others, even the ones behind the four, who were staying 'down' on one knee, all shot her a look.
Curious, but not why I came. With a wing-beat I lurched forward, in between the gathering before they had time to do more than flinch out of the way. “Walk with me. Grex, my receiving room.”
“As you command, my mistress.” Grex took point and began leading the way as we landed on the largest balcony in sight. I heard the thumps of the others touching ground behind me, but I didn't dare look.
One could only walk down so many drafty castle style hallways before getting bored, no matter how well carpeted they were and how many interesting tapestries and paintings they boasted. Or so I told myself. The torches set in dark iron scones cut most of the gloom, but there was still plenty to go around.
Enough to see the tapestries, though, and they all seemed to be historical. Maybe if I... no, there was no time. I'd be able to come back later, though.
What Grex led me to was a throne room. A throne room also filled with torches and tapestries on the walls, The other side of which I could barely see, with my enhanced eyesight. There were large tables on either side of the red carpet we were now following, all stone and intricately carved with designs that drew the eye in disturbing ways.
At the far end of the room was a throne. Right where I'd normally not be able to see it or at least not make anything out. Unfortunately, the thing was so huge that I really had no choice but to see it, even with the lack of light.
It was made of stone, and carved all along its length. The seat or depression was large; just how large I wasn't able to tell from here, but big enough to match the size of the chair... which was a stepped pyramid shape large enough for me to see in an area where the torches themselves were mere pinpricks of light and I could make out no details.
Considering that even with low light I could make out details for miles, this section truly was the nosebleeds.
Screw formality... mainly because it would take a year to walk the distance to sit on that throne. I headed to the nearest table, holding out my hand. Grex slapped the map into it, and I unrolled the thing and placed it on the table, using some silverware (made of real silver, from the looks of it) to hold it down. I fought down my embarrassment.
It was a printed map from Google, lovingly taped together. There just hadn't been time for anything else. Regardless, the demons crowded close, jostling each other, jockeying for position, and none commented on the flimsy thing.
No one jostled me, despite the fact that I was right in front of it.
“This is a map of the city I'm currently living in. What I want is simple; I want a grand total of twenty-six of you to co-ordinate and search the city for evidence of demon activity.”
Everyone present, even the ones pouring in as word spread, looked to me.
“Right. Other evidence of demonic activity. Circles that don't belong to me, demons that are not us, things like that. I want those picked to take a highlighted section of the map and scan it, and mark such activity on it – and I want it done by morning.”
One of the first four spoke up. He seemed cautiously curious, more than anything else. “Which of us do you choose for such a task?”
“I'm not choosing – you are. Or if you can't decide among yourselves, Grex will.” There was no point to me just picking demons at random after all, some might be better at searching than others. The twins seemed to be reasonably good at it, for example.
“How will we gate to the world of the mortals?” The woman asked – which earned her a glare from the man who spoke before.
“I'll open the way myself.” I'd already opened the way once to get Grex and I here; how bad could it be to open it again?
She bent to one knee, elbowing others of her kind out of the way as an afterthought. “As you say, my Lady. My name is Veess, it is most wonderful to finally meet your august magnificence.”
Did she have a shovel? I think she needed one.
“Oh do be silent Veess, you know better than to speak to your betters. Should you persist, I will silence you myself.” Said the first guy... the demon closest to Grex. Was there some sort of ranking thing I didn't know about at play here? There almost had to be.
“And you are?”
The demon promptly swept into a courtly bow and a smile, complete with a wing flourish, knocking his fellow demons aside with just as much care as Veess had shown moments before. “Ah, Apologies my Lady, I am Ulak, duke of the western marches and your most loyal servant.”
Grex cleared his throat and Ulak's smile slipped... but he didn't retract the statement.
“Right. Well Ulak, I'll let you all confer among yourselves while I work on the gateway home. I don't want any normal duties here you all may have to suffer as a result of my command, so choose wisely.”
Ulak bowed lower as I walked off, Grex in tow. Halfway up to the throne was probably far enough, but I motioned for Grex to spin a quick spell against eavesdropping, just in case; I was sure his were better than mine since he had much more practice at it.
As soon as he snapped it off he moved in front of me. “Some of my subordinates can lip read.”
He seemed slightly angry about something, tense and seething. I decided to just forge ahead; if he was angry with me he would just have to deal.
“So, what do you think?”
He frowned and waited a moment for replying. “That's it? That's all you have?”
“What do you mean?”
He sighed. “I've guided you to Limbo, as you asked. I've taken you to the Aerie, as you commanded. I've watched you meet my own subordinates and lay out your plan to them, as is proper... and the first question you have for me is 'what do you think'?”
I nodded, realizing what he was getting at now. But honestly it wasn't important. Not right now – finding the source of the demonic invasion before we all got overwhelmed was. Getting the angel that might still be stalking me to realize there wasn't any reason to stay and look for me was also important.
The absolutely huge fortress, the extra large throne and the names of the demons working for my own? Not as important. At least not yet.
Grex sighed again. “They won't betray you, at least not yet. You have thus far struck the proper note of command, and they sense your natural talent besides. You have a... charisma to you.”
That looked like an uncomfortable admission for Grex to make. Not quite as uncomfortable as it was to hear from a demon, but it probably hurt him at least a little bit.
“...right. So, I don't need to fear the knife in my back just yet. Good to know.”
I had been tempted (and in truth was still more than a little tempted) to make it an order, to all demons present. A statement like 'don't betray me in any way at any time' would probably go far. But I wasn't sure my authority extended that far, or would work that well. I think the effect was diluted if the demon wasn't right in front of me, or I wasn't speaking directly to them. I wasn't certain of course, but I felt I should test it before making a fool of myself and turning an entire circle of Hell against me.
Just another thing to add to the list of things to test when Grex wasn't around.
“I also think we should actually get started on opening your gateway if you expect to keep to your unrealistic timetable.” Grex added, completely unnecessarily.
I didn't think my timetable was unrealistic. I mean, it had been awhile for many of my impressed troops, but they used to help make miracles happen. Even now they made the impossible happen as a matter of course, what was one more impossibility?
“Alright, well, we start with a circle, right?”
“Not exactly.” Grex replied. I didn't like that sudden smirk of his.
“Okay, what now?”
“Well, gates cannot be built or maintained from this side of Hell. No demon can simply move into the mortal realm without an anchor, be it an object or a person. You are an exception to the rule of course, and I may follow you... but those you see to employ will be unable to follow using the laws you hope to employ.”
That made a worryingly good amount of sense. “This feels like something you should have brought up with me beforehand, Grex.”
After all, he'd known what I was planning.
“There was no need. There is, of course, an alternative.”
I crossed my arms on purpose, a clear signal. “I'm waiting.”
Grex grinned a more genuine smile. “We simply use your existing gateway.”
Wait. “I have an existing gateway?”
“Of course. How else would we simply appear in Limbo and Earth, trading between them with no more effort than is employed in a brisk walk?”
Well there was more effort than a brisk walk employed, I knew that much. I had a lot of power, but the drain to come here had been noticeable. Wait, was he implying....
“We can't waste the time on another walk out to that spire Grex.”
“Of course not. In truth, we did not need to waste any time on the first walk. I was simply directing you to a place you have already been, one that had felt the weight of your presence, and one that you were familiar with.”
Hm, both of those were important. Strong demonic powers (and I'd assume angelic ones too, now that it was certain angels existed) sometimes broke things around them, in much the same way they broke people with prolonged exposure.
In the case of reality or space, however, it just translated into making certain things easier. Like summoning and contracting and certain other spells. I wonder if angels sanctified things instead? Would I find it easier or harder to summon in a place where an angel had been? Yet another thing to test, if I found the time.
“And Now that I'm here, we can do it again?”
Grex gave a little head shake. “Not exactly. It may be easier for you, as you don't entirely belong here in the way others do, but the gateway is already established, and only that gateway will do.”
My stomach met my feet. “What gateway?”
“The one to your apartment, of course.”
I had been right to be worried. “I can't take a bunch of demons to my apartment! To that building!”
Grex showed his teeth. “But of course you can. They can simply become lost in the background noise. There are dozens of demons in that building as is, two dozen more won't be noticed.”
“Grex, that building is summoner central. It has almost every highly trained summoner in the area and their demon living in it.”
His grin widened. “That's why it's perfect. It's least expected.”
Right. Why was I expecting logic or sanity from him? He was a demon.
The smile slid from his lips. “It is the only choice. Your established gateway is the only gate which will work; without it, even you are trapped here. Your apartment will offset the signature of so many demons at once, and we can take steps to make sure they are not detected as they leave.”
Yes, we could do that. I was way ahead of him there. I took a breath and the steadiness in my voice had to have surprised Grex; I know it surprised me. “And where does this gateway connect to, if not the spire we came from?”
“Your quarters of course. This way.”
Quarters? I had quarters here? “Lead on.”
Grex led me to the right of the throne, to a section of wall. Along the way, I got a slightly closer look at the thing – and found it absolutely covered in historical motifs, like the fall of Minos, the fall of Jericho, the fall of Rome, all complete with weeping peasants and fleeing soldiers. I was sensing a trend here.
At Grex's touch, the section of wall slid open to reveal a long hallway. How did they even change the torches in this place? There had to be thousands. Maybe even hundreds of thousands; even one demon per torch per night (torches should burn out much faster than that) would be....
“This way, My mistress.”
I followed Grex and tried to focus. A lapse of attention could kill me here.
The hallway swung around, through many twists and turns, and a few branches which Grex didn't even so much as look at. Twenty minutes or so later, just when I was about to get thoroughly lost, we came upon a familiar-looking door.
It was my apartment door, complete with the room number. Even the scratches on the knob matched.
Grex stood to one side. “You locked the door, and it would be unseemly for me to charm it.”
Wait, this was my actual...? No way. I put the key in the lock and turned the knob, revealing my kitchen.
There was still some old coffee in the pot, and the dirty dishes matched up. I opened my fridge and found my chocolate stash in the door.
“But how?”
“I'll go and retrieve those who are coming with us; they should have come to a consensus by now. Please leave the door open.” Grex said from the doorway, right before he ducked back out.
He knew. Did he do it, somehow? If so, how? I didn't tell him to, but I also didn't tell him he couldn't specifically, since I didn't even know it was possible.
The television in the living room turned on, right to animal planet, the last channel on before I went to sleep. How would that even work? Was there electricity in Hell? So far there hadn't been, and if there was you'd expect light bulbs. My mug was on the coffee table; I'd have to talk to Grex about that, he was supposed to clean up before we left.
My bed was rumpled, the blankets thrown back, just as I'd left it. All of the furniture, if it wasn't mine, it was so close a match my eyesight couldn't see any differences.
I went back to the kitchen and started some coffee.
It wasn't quite finished when the first of my volunteers trooped in. The volunteers all did the same thing; they entered, looked around, and either crinkled their noses or turned them up.
My apartment was pretty big, but just over two dozen demons later the living room and kitchen were both filled. Grex made a show of pouring my coffee as the other demons watched.
“We are all present, and we all have our assigned areas, My Lady.” Veess stated with a bow.
I took a sip, covering desperately. Grex signaled for me to shut the door.
I took my time with another sip of coffee, then got up, reached past a demon I didn't know and pulled the door shut.
Grex then motioned for me to open it again, so I did. It opened into what was clearly the summoner's apartment building hall, with no intervention, no pull on my power, nothing at all. We were just in Hell one moment, and the next, not. I could feel the difference as soon as the door opened, but not how it happened.
I'd worry about that in a few minutes. For now, I had to get these demons out of here. The hallway was clear, but there were cameras.
“Alright. Each of you come to the door, single file.”
The one who I had to reach past was first. I stuck a hand out. “You will do as I command you at all times while here at my request. You will search your section of my map and inform me of anything unusual or demonic. Whether you find anything or not, you are to return here and I will send you home. Got it?”
He staggered back with the force of either my words or presence. Whatever it was, he fell to a knee. “I hear and obey, my Lady.”
“What is your name?”
“Hilken, my Lady.”
“Alright, Hilken. Make yourself invisible before you leave, and before you come back, to avoid detection.”
He ducked his head and faded from sight – I could still detect him because I had the sense and knew he was there, but anyone else would be hard pressed to.
“Next.”
Going through them all one at a time burned another chunk of time I felt we didn't have, but it was better than letting potentially devastating demons roam free or mostly free. Gathering their names for future reference was only prudent too; if they did a good job, I could call on them again, and if not I'd be able to single them out quickly.
I didn't really breathe until the last one was away. There was no outcry raised so detection was unlikely; I hadn't even thought to make sure those I brought with me could spoof sight and the cameras. I really needed to work more on my long term planning.
But with the last of the demons I shouldn't talk in front of gone and the door closed (even though I opened it again – we remained safely in the apartment complex) it was time to discuss certain things.
I turned. “Grex.”
I was getting a good idea after all this time what his tells were, and judging from the slightly twitching hands and the eye movement, Grex was nervous.
“Yes, my mistress?”
“I have questions, and you have answers.”
“As long as it doesn't endanger your safety I will answer my Mistress.” He hedged. I was beginning to hate that hedge.
“How and when did my apartment become an actual gate to Hell?”
“The first day, after you asked me to prepare it, and partly through my preparations and partly through your very presence.” He answered promptly.
Answering promptly was a good strategy for him. “So your preparations did this? Are you insane?”
He started to pour himself some coffee. My quiet command hit him with enough force to stagger him.
“Answer.”
He blew a breath and sank to a knee. “I prepared the way, but on your orders. You requested comfort and safety. Such a ritual, powered by your continued presence, was the best way to provide it. Your presence would have exerted much greater effect on your surroundings, and been much more vulnerable to detection otherwise.”
He stood and looked directly down into my eyes. “Did you think that your contract, the powers you gained, would have no such disadvantages? That your frail mortal frame would be unchanged by the power you sought, even with examples laid before you? No, you were not that naive – instead, you grasped for all you could, greedily, when it was offered. You sinned, Maeve. All the consequences you now face are the wages of that sin.”
I shrugged my wings uncomfortably. He was right; he tempted me, but I fell for it.
Then Grex was hugging me, and not in that playful way he had either. This was gentle... distant, but almost kind. “All mortals have weakness, Maeve. You were no different. If it eases your mind, you may at least rest assured that you did not miscalculate your soul's value.”
That did make me feel a little better, but I wasn't so sure about it; my soul's value seemed to have dropped of late. Still, even worse, I was getting comforted by Grex. It wouldn't do to forget who he was.
I pushed him off, and he retreated. “Second question. How does this gateway work, and why hasn't it been detected?”
“That should be 'questions two and three,'” he corrected.
I rolled my eyes at him, as melodramatically as possible. He shifted to a lecturing tone I hadn't heard in awhile. “It works through you. You are grounded in two different realities; that of Limbo and of Earth. The apartment follows suit; when you are grounded in Earth, the apartment follows. When you are grounded in Limbo, the apartment is as well.”
“So the ritual to get to Limbo earlier was completely pointless?”
Grex shook his head. “The ritual centered you. It was the easiest way to get you to your goal without an explanation.”
“And why not just explain?”
“Two reasons. One, a secret shared is a secret spoiled; secrets have a power all their own, and this one has already saved your existence twice. Once you knew, you could share it with others who can eventually betray you. Best not to share at all, unless I had to.
The second reason is the explanation itself would take time, and it was time you felt we didn't have. You really are too dedicated for your own good.”
Grex grinned as he delivered that line, almost daring me to disagree with him. I really couldn't, even if I knew I wouldn't let such a devastating secret slip (if anyone else had ever gotten that kind of power from a contract, I hadn't read or heard about it) because if people found out I could open a gate to Hell I'd get swamped in people looking for their loved ones and inquisition types.
And without the explanation, the easiest location for me to link to would be where I'd linked to before – the lookout spire. I wonder if that was an intentional location, or if I'd just latched onto it at random; I hadn't been in control that first time and Grex probably hadn't been either, for all his experience. I couldn't see any reason why he'd make sure we ended up there – unless he hadn't thought I was ready for meeting his family. Which was a possibility. Time to move on.
“Alright. How many demons can I control the way I do?”
Grex blinked. Then laughed. It was a disturbing laugh because there was no malice in it; it sounded perfectly human. “Why all of them, of course. The only limitations on that ability are someone stronger than you commanding the same demon, in which case you lose, and how you word the orders. But such is true of almost everyone, even myself. Only the boss himself doesn't have to worry about that because he can never be outranked. I've said as much before.”
“Yeah, but I wasn't sure I could order everyone back at the keep - the Aerie? All at once.”
“It's for the best that you didn't try then. You played your role perfectly; my subordinates saw a strong demon ruler. They will be less likely to try and challenge your rule in the future – something that will be a boon the more you use them.”
I didn't like the implication of that statement at all. Letting more demons loose on the Earth even once was a huge risk. I'd see for sure later; they had all been commanded to do their job and return, if any took liberties it would be an easy thing to spot.
“So how hidden are we still? I mean I know the building is all background noise, but there is noise, and then there's NOISE, right?”
Noise was still the best way to refer to power usage, which was detected by other demons, angels, and certain summoners as a type of analog to actual sound. I did it myself, as part of my contract package, which of course meant Grex did too.
We'd long since disabled the cameras in the apartment. They showed what we wanted to show, when we wanted to show it, with just the right amount of slightly rebellious behavior all summoners showed just to avoid suspicion. So at least they weren't a concern. Outside the apartment was another matter, and the wards put up both inside and around the building were extensive.
“Still fairly well hidden. The gateway itself is a form of threshold spell, and works on the doorways of your personal spaces, linking them. As such, most of the power draw and signature is quite negligible – comparable to a standard contract summoning of my caliber perhaps.”
That was far too suspicious to be coincidental. Grex was good.
“However, as most of the signature generated is directed elsewhere, it ends up in Limbo, which means I know every single time you appear to us in your sleep.”
And there was the creepy grin again. I was going to ignore it this time.
If he knew that meant the rank and file probably knew too, which could be good or bad. They might think me more hands on than I was. And speaking of hands on....
“Grex, the mayor of Filex.”
“Filat.” He corrected.
“Yeah, Filat. The mayor seemed very anxious when we showed up. Not fear exactly, but... okay well it had been mixed with fear too. Then you suggested we avoid the other settlements. What's the story there?”
“We are their overlords, but our touch is light. The human souls rule themselves, and we only step in when we must. It is enough that they look to the sky and see Heaven in all it's glory, knowing they may never walk it.”
I'd only seen a brightly lit day. I hoped that didn't say anything about me, but it probably did.
Grex knew me. For the second time tonight he pulled me close, gently. “You had a choice, Maeve. Only the mortal souls of those bound to the realm can see it; Limbo is a deficient Heaven for the just and righteous but not of the faith.”
“That seems kind of... dickish.” I blurted, then realized what I said.
Grex grinned and opened his mouth; I cut him off. “No, stop, don't want to hear whatever you were going to say there.”
No need to compound my sin with another. I'd apologize to the big man for everything later, on my own time. It wouldn't help of course, but now that I knew for sure he existed, I felt the need to apologize.
Wait, come to think of it, why had I seen a day? We had crossed over at nigh and had hit daytime. Or at least some kind of eternal dusk. Did the sun never set there or something? Or did time simply work differently there? I mean time being mutable there only made sense, but it seemed to have some kind of rhythm.
“So wait, you can't see it either?”
Grex shook his head. “Only those chosen may perceive the glories of Heaven. We are no longer such.”
I'd imagine that after having once known Heaven, seeing it every time one looked would only foster resentment. It was perhaps best that the demons couldn't, in true out of sight out of mind fashion.
That, and if they couldn't see it, they probably didn't know or remember where it was anymore, which would make it harder to storm.
Still, the desire to at least see it was strong within me; the idea to know what I was missing, and to be able to compare Limbo and Hell was strong. I guess I'd have to settle for just experiencing Limbo and Earth while I could before I ended up somewhere worse.
A polite knock sounded on the door before I could tap into the booze; I motioned Grex to get it. The door opened on nothing, and a moment later closed. The nothing resolved itself to one of the eriynes I'd sent out. Um... Ordiv was his name. He promptly dropped to a knee and lowered his head before me.
“My Lady, I have found something both suspicious and demonic.”
“Show me.”
Our town had a warehouse district, right by an old half used train yard. Ordiv led us to one of the warehouses some distance away from the tracks, a middlingly old one that looked to be in good repair.
From across the street, I could feel the concentration of demonic power; the wrongness which felt so right. It felt as if there were dozens of demons in there; maybe more.
I and my little army were perched, literally, on the top of the buildings surrounding our target. The troops consisted of me, Grex, Ordiv, and the twins. There were no other buildings like this one; every other quadrant checked was clear, and the other demons had already been sent home with my generous thanks as their reward. They seemed happy for just that much, just like Ordiv did.
“Thank you Ordiv, you've done well.”
I wanted to go right down there, storm the place, and send whatever was in there back to it's home. But that wasn't the plan, and I was a bit grateful for that. Whatever was down there felt strong. Stupidly strong; but it was also luckily hard to gauge. If I knew for sure, I probably wouldn't even be here.
“Alright. Let's go; now that we know where it is, they can't move it.” I turned to the twins. “Remember the plan, I'll call for you tomorrow.” They nodded in sync and vanished.
I set a small little ward on each roof surrounding the warehouse while Grex and Ordiv played unwilling lookout. It was clear they didn't want to tangle with whatever was going on in that warehouse without backup, and I didn't blame them. Ordiv seemed especially terrified, for all that he was trying to appear stoic.
It didn't speak well for my sanity that I felt I could correctly read demons. Or for my recent history, that I might have such experience.
With the wards set and primed with a drop of my blood, anything demonic that crossed the barrier (really a box) I'd set would trip it, letting me know something was up. At least, that was the theory; I hadn't done or seen any rune-work done this way, and while this circle was an abjuration of sorts, it wasn't a strong one. The theory was anything demonic would break it, and I'd sense that, like an alarm. I was just guessing here, though. I was sure someone had developed a circle to do this better, but I was young yet; if I survived I'd be looking this sort of thing up for sure.
“Alright, let's go.” I floated down ahead, cheating by canceling my body weight; I couldn't use my wings here, so I was using the charm Grex was earlier. He floated right beside me, and Ordiv just flew down, landing with a slight rustle of feathers.
We got in my car, and I slowly and carefully drove us back. Yes, my car was known, and yes my car was easily recognized, but I could drive at night if I wanted and there wasn't anyone around to see and connect us to the warehouse. Not even security, which was more than a little ominous to my mind.
We got back in, my two invisible chaperons sneaking along while I waved to the guy at the front desk. We used the stairs, and I put key to door with a sigh. Then I focused and opened the door again, back to a hallway in Limbo.
“Alright Ordiv, that's your stop. Good work tonight, and if I need to I may call on you again. Be prepared.”
He slipped through the door before turning with a bow. “It was an honor to serve, my Lady. Do not hesitate to call upon me again, should you deem it necessary.”
I shut the door in his face and tore my robe off with another sigh. “I can see now why you want to hang out with me so often; dealing with your kin is tiring in the extreme.”
Grex was already making a fresh pot of coffee. “You have work in the morning, which I might remind you is a mere three hours away now.”
“Well, that's assuming I do my normal get ready routine. Something which I'm tempted to skip today.”
I slipped my feet onto my small foot massager. I hadn't actually walked much today, but my feet were still killing me.
Grex handed me a cup of coffee. Well, he was a demon after all.
I sipped while he turned on the television.
…...
That bastard had doctored the coffee or something. Or so I would say if he didn't have standing orders not to do anything of the sort, and without a clear danger to my health, he couldn't ignore that. I was almost late getting up, really late, not just 'ignore hygiene' late. Of course, I didn't need to ignore hygiene, just dilate time a little to get ready.
Oddly enough it was harder to dilate time in the apartment; something I had an answer for, now. Time worked differently in Hell after all, or so Grex had said. I couldn't remember whether I'd done it before.
Oh well, it didn't matter if I altered time in the apartment before, I was doing it now. I was tempted to do it further, so I could sleep more, but that would be kind of obvious. I canceled the time flows as soon as possible; removing the effects of time on items I'd need to bring with me took more power than I wanted to spend.
I grabbed one of my primers, stuffed to the brim with ad hoc spellwork that Grex had helped me with, and managed to get the door open before Karen could knock on it. She looked so forlorn out in the hall with her hand raised.
“Come on, we're going to be late!” I snagged one of her hands and picked up speed. Small paybacks were the best.
She looked longingly at my coffee pot before the door swing closed. “We'll get some on the way, come on!”
I knew she didn't want to pay for the good stuff, not even the stuff in the shop downstairs. I gave her the chance to stop and get some, a slight hesitation in my walk, but she didn't take the bait, so it was off to the car.
The drive was just as uneventful as they all were; it was pretty obvious what we were, even in my car, so I had plenty of space. It was getting to the point that my driving skills might deteriorate; I was considering taking a defensive driving class or something. Maybe one on demolition derbies.
I turned to check my blind spot and almost wrecked us when I saw Karen with my book open, reading my notes.
She noticed me noticing. “Looks good. So you're still going to go through with summoning more demons to search?”
I nodded, surprised at how cool I looked in the rear-view. I was pretty sure my heart was trying to break my ribs.
“Well, you're on call today, so technically you can do it. Want help?”
I parked in the usual spot and retrieved my notes. “I won't mind an audience in case things go wrong.”
“Right, well I've got your back. First things first, though, we need to check with the captain and the chief to get their okays.
“Okay, you handle the chief, I'll handle the captain?”
“Wuss.” Karen scoffed but added “Sure.” after. She kept going up after I got off the elevator.
My target was right there, staring wide-eyed at my book.
“Captain.”
“No. Whatever it is, no.” was his immediate response.
“But you haven't even heard what I was going to say.”
He crossed is arms, and put a hand on his pistol. “I don't need to; whenever I see a summoner with an old book in hand, striding my way and taking that tone, it's a summoner asking permission to do something incredibly stupid and it never ends well.”
I got close enough that I wouldn't have to shout. “Boss, I need your permission to do something incredibly stupid.”
He sighed, but straightened up. “Alright, what is it this time?”
“I need your permission to summon more demons; demons in number, to do the legwork we don't have the manpower for.”
“And how many of these extra demons would you like to summon?”
Oh, he was all brisk now. “About twenty, or twenty-five imps, to cover places our demonic summoning friend could be hiding. We discussed this a little before.”
The Captain sighed again. “That's the problem with you summoners; sooner or later you always start thinking demons can solve all your problems.”
What? That was hardly what I was doing. “Is that a no?”
He shook his head and grinned. “Not even. How soon can you be ready, assuming the chief approves?”
“As soon as I draw the circles in the basement. Think Karen will have issues convincing the chief?”
The Captain made a show of thinking it over, but I knew it was a sham.
“Nah, not at all. She will just explain it in terms of budget; demons don't cost anything to summon. Well, not money anyway. You better go do your thing; I'll just bring a friend or two along to make sure the imps behave.”
“Well, that's kind of you.” But not really necessary, Captain. Also, did we have the manpower for that? I mean, people from other cities were being bused in.
The Captain was a little psychic. “It's a small price to pay to make sure the building's still standing at the end of the day; don't worry about it.”
Ugh, I could already see how this day was going to go. Thank God I didn't actually follow official channels, or this effort would probably be doomed from the start.
“Go on, back down the elevator you go. Be sure to say hi to the Cryptkeeper, and let him know we're coming.”
Oh crap. I'd never met the guy, he'd always been out before. But the Cryptkeeper was a retired cop, someone who worked murder and taught my Dad the ropes. My Dad always said he was a little flakey... which, coming from my dad probably meant he was wearing people's skins and counting in prime numbers down there.
He also came in and worked in the vaults every day, filing hard copies of cases and taking care of the official summoning circles we kept down there, despite being retired for at least a few years.
Cords met me on the stairs, panting. “Knew...you'd take... the stairs.”
“You need more PT.”
All color left his face. “Shhh, not so loud!”
“Alright, alright,” I relented. “So what's up? And who's minding the store?”
“The Captain is, for a bit. I've got five minutes.” His face turned stern. More stern than I'd ever seen it. “Now what is this I hear about you doing a mass summoning?”
“I'm going to summon a bunch of imps to cover the ground we can't cover with cops, simply because it's too dangerous for them. If the imps see anything, they report back to me and we zero in on that spot. Hopefully, we can find the demon summoning asshole who's made all our lives miserable lately.”
“How many are you going to summon?”
“As many as I can,” I replied. “But I'm shooting for somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty-five.”
Cords whistled, loud and low. “Now who's being loud?”
And he's blushing now. All too easy. “Can you really handle that many demons at once?”
I couldn't tell him the truth, but I didn't have to lie exactly. “I'm pretty sure I can... but Karen and backup will be there in case I can't, so I'm not too worried.”
Summoning was a risky business, after all. Doubly risky for other people I think – but the moment I started actually thinking in those terms I would probably die. Most of my danger right now could very well come from my attitude; if I didn't watch it, I'd start getting an ego. Pride goeth before the fall, and all that.
“Alright, well I'll be there in spirit, but my desk has got to be manned. Good luck.” Cords told me, turning back to go up the stairs.
“Double-time it, soldier. Only way to get back into the swing of things.” Was my parting shot. I should work on my people skills I think.
“Yeah, no. I don't want the Captain to see me puking my guts up at the top. See you later.”
He still took the stairs two at a time; he just didn't run. So his fitness level wasn't too terrible. Still, he needed to get out from behind that desk. Maybe a trip to that park? The one the civil war re-enactors had used... a nice hike. Yeah, that could work.
With effort, I clamped down on those thoughts. No distractions now, I couldn't afford them. Take nothing for granted.
At the end of the staircase, past the basement where the files were kept, the steel blast door was right where I left it, and as scarred and covered in runes as I left it... but it was closed. That wasn't normal; the door was supposed to be open unless something was in progress. That way, failing anything else, the demonic problem could be contained until forces could be massed in order to re-take the basement.
There was nothing else to do but to knock; the great booming thuds were sure to grab someone's attention. I waited another few minutes and knocked again.
Just as I was getting ready to knock a third time, the locks finally ground open with a screech and the door swung open soundlessly.
Standing on the other side of it was a man, older but not old, just beginning to really go to seed. He was probably mid 50's, with a full head of salt and pepper hair. He had two prominent facial scars which looked to have been made by claws that went clear to the bone some years ago. One eye was covered by a patch, and he was hunched over his right side as if he was in pain.
“Ah, it's you. Figures no sooner would I come back after a week then someone would want to ruin everything for the day.” The man said, and just turned around and limped off, leaving the door swinging.
I closed it behind me, but did not lock it. The basement was dark, with only a single old bare light bulb illuminating a space perhaps half the size of a football field. But compared to where I'd been last night, it was both better lit and small. There was a desk in one corner with a laptop on it, and a bunch of discs scattered around that.
Snacks and old wrappers of past snacks were scattered all around the desk, an open invitation that mice and rats would be foolish to take.
“So, you're Numen's kid, right?”
I turned back to find the old guy looking at me. “That's right. And you're the Cryptkeeper.”
He snorted. “Well that name works as well as any other, but you can call me Fred if you'd like.”
Well, now I could see why he insisted on Cryptkeeper.
“You can call me Maeve.” I was sure he knew my nickname, but I hated it.
“So what brings you down to the dungeon, Maeve.”
“Well Fred, I'm about to do something incredibly stupid involving demons.”
He rolled his eye. “If I had a nickel for every time I heard that....”
I paid up. He tossed the nickel onto the desk, where it bounced off several wrappers before coming to a stop. “So, what incredibly stupid thing are you about to do?”
“I'm about to summon multiple demons to help with a search.”
He looked surprised. At least I think that was what he was going for – with all the scars pulling his face in odd directions it was hard to tell. “Oh really? A search and rescue search?”
“Nope, a search for the rogue who's been causing us all the issues lately. I have the city narrowed down some, but I need more numbers for that final push.”
Now that was definitely disappointment. “I see. Got your approval for use of the circle?”
I looked over the various circles, all engraved into the cement floor; it all looked to have been done with molds when the floor was poured, and then inset with silver. Smart. The one I needed was... this one, fourth over and third down from the far wall. “It's coming, Fred. Karen's talking to the chief now, and the Captain's already signed off. He's lining up some backup.”
Fred sighed. “Well, there goes the day. Kare-bear will have the Chief doing cartwheels. Alright, I'll go get the stuff. You use the chalk in the corner to make any additions or whatever you need. Only use the chalk, got it? I don't want to have to clean up paint again.”
“Who the heck would use paint on a circle like this?” The thing didn't need any additions, it was a perfectly made if terribly standard summoning circle. Even the ones at the academy were more personal and customized than this one. Then again, the circle was probably decades old by this point; the building wasn't that new, and this had that 'worked on when the foundations were laid' look.
Maybe a few small changes, here and there. Just to promote a more stable planar connection, with more control. I grabbed some chalk (dark green) and started in.
By the time I was half finished Karen was there, the ink on the approval she slapped down on Fred's nasty desk was probably still wet. She then came over and eyed my work.
“Not bad. I can't spot any flaws, and the lines do have a certain elegance.”
To my eyes, they looked exactly like the book notes I'd drawn; which was to say, alien.
My other backup came in. Baron, an out of town summoner, strode in like he owned the place in front of my squad. I hadn't worked with Baron yet, but Sarah had told me he had an ego. As if all summoners didn't or something. He was also named by his demon, who was supposedly a baron of one of the circles. I didn't know which one though.
He stopped right in front of me and sketched a bow. “Maeve Numens, good to finally meet you. I am the summoner known as Baron.”
“I know who you are.” I dusted off a hand to shake, which he promptly ignored with a slight sniff, choosing instead to look over my work.
Jerk; it was only dark green chalk. It was hardly going to kill him.
“Hmm, Arabic and... Babylonian?”
“Etruscan.” I corrected. It was an easy mistake to make because the two long-dead cultures did have some cross contamination, mostly in their religions, but something about this guy made me not want to give him a pass.
Karen, looking on curiously and clearly having little clue, would get one, though. After all, Latin and barely pre-Roman was the standard, and she used it well. Grex had all but demanded I learn and apply it here, though, and I was beginning to see why.
If you messed up Etruscan, same as anything else, it bit you, and not many people knew it. Mixed with Arabic? It was even worse.
Sarah all but pushed past Baron, then minced forward to make sure she didn't scuff anything. I wish I had a camera. “So um, you all set?”
“I am, once I double-check everything. Once we get started, anything summoned should be in the circle, so if it isn't, cut it apart.”
Simple rules. I liked things simple.
“Right. Hey Judge, Culling. Get the miniguns up by the door. Aims set the shields up.”
Good to know if anything went wrong I'd probably be cut in half by machine gun fire, but the Chief and Captain wouldn't sign off without some ability to control the outcome their way. Summoners did have that pesky tendency to go insane, after all, and it was usually in direct proportion to how much demonic taint they were exposed to.
“Grex, Veni huc!”
Grex flowed down from the ceiling this time, avoiding the circle as he gave me his customary hug.
Baron turned; he had his athame out and wrist exposed. “What are you doing?”
I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing? “Grex, check that will you?”
“Of course, my mistress.”
I turned back to Baron, who still hadn't put his athame up. “Now, what do you mean, what am I doing? I'm having Grex here double-check my circles. What are you doing?”
He didn't answer. “And then you'll send him back to Hell?”
“No, why would I do that? He can watch my back during the ritual.”
“But the energy costs alone! The stress...!” Baron spluttered.
I looked around; he was the only one that had a problem with this. Karen at least would speak up if she felt I couldn't handle it, and Grex and I already knew I could do all I said and more.
“It all checks out, my mistress.”
“Great, let's start then.” I sat in my appointed spot. Karen rushed to her own, dragging a still spluttering Baron to his.
Sarah and my team took up their positions behind the riot shields, and the Cryptkeeper joined them there.
A brief fleeting desire for coffee and I started the chant.
I almost tripped over the Arabic (Aramaic?) a few times, but soon enough the first imp was capering uneasily about the center of the circle, eyeing all the firepower with clear unease.
“I don't care to know your true name, only your use name.”
“Calix, your greatness.” His eyes flicked to Grex, and I knew Grex was smiling in that way he did because the imp went from ash grey to bone white.
I pulled out a map and unfolded it. “Calix, once released from the circle you are to check the area marked on that map for recent demonic activity. If you find any, you are to mark it on the map, turn the map in to me, and then depart for your home. You are not to take any side trips, harm any humans or animals, or damage any human property at any time during your search. You are to do nothing other than conduct your search and then report back to me. Is that understood?”
I could see my words sink in with the strange force they had; the compulsion to do as I asked would be too strong for it to disobey without help; the other bindings it was summoned into were purely for show.
The imp's jaw touched the concrete floor. “I understand, your greatness.”
“Alright. See that man?” I pointed to Cryptkeeper. “Follow him to the door out.”
I released the circle and he scampered out; Cryptkeeper shot me a dirty look but got up; hey it wasn't like I knew where the door directly to the outside was, exactly.
I reset everything.
“An auspicious start, my mistress.”
“Thank you, Grex.” Grex was all but glaring at Baron, and Baron still had his athame out.
“A good set of orders, pretty ironclad,” Karen opined. Then she brightened. “And the business of the maps was inspired! How many of those did you bring?”
The others were still stuffed in the pockets of my robe; no human could see them yet. “Twenty, all marked with a different section to check.”
“Pretty smart,” Karen opined again. The cupped her chin with a hand, really drawing out the show. “But what happens if the imp loses the map?”
“Simple. They better not. They are demons, not children.” I replied. No mercy was important here.
“Another good point. But you're roping them into commands involving that map; if it gets destroyed, you're going to be left with an imp not daring to report in.”
That was a good point on her part, but I'd thought of it. “True enough, but I have a map of my own, complete with numbered grids on it. The map I handed Calix just now was number one. Since the imp can't actually hurt anyone or cause mayhem, they will be easy to find, just by searching for the imp whose map I don't have.”
Karen whistled... then ruined it. “You have way too much time on your hands, Snow. You did all this last night?”
I nodded. “Time is one thing I do have on my hands... or at them.”
“You cheated?” Karen pouted.
“Yes,” I admitted. If you weren't cheating, you weren't trying. I had entire swarms of people drilling that saying into my head.
“I have taught you well, Padawan.”
Sigh. “Karen, I'm not letting the hate flow through me no matter what you say.”
“Damn!”
“Moving on and restarting the ritual, something that demands silence!” I yelled. I might have glared at her.
Heck, Baron was glaring at both of us. That was fine, the egotistical scum can think I was unprofessional scum all day. At least My team was having fun, judging from the grins.
Karen obligingly shut up, even going so far as to make the zipping motion across her lips.
I started the chant again.
I will say this, for as tense a situation as this was, as physically demanding as it was to summon (not really too bad, at least for me) it was BORING.
I wanted to drown myself in my own tears of apathy by the time the twentieth imp showed up. I still dutifully recorded its name as I handed it the last map, and I was sure I sounded like a receptionist or flight attendant after a full day of dealing with people.
“Once released from the circle you are to check the area marked on that map for recent demonic activity. If you find any, you are to mark it on the map, turn the map in to me, and then depart for your home. You are not to take any side trips, harm any humans or animals, or damage any human property at any time during your search. You are to do nothing other than conduct your search and then report back to me. Is that understood?”
The latest imp, one Cefkex, nodded silently, slightly overwhelmed. A hesitant hand reached out and swiped my last map as if it would bite, and blurred back to the imps side. It fidgeted.
“That man will lead you outside; begin immediately.”
It almost climbed up Cryptkeeper's back trying to get away from me. I felt more than a little snubbed.
I stood up from my place in the circle, and gave my arms a spin to loosen them up; I had been sitting there for hours, I was sure. “So, who wants lunch?”
I looked around, and everyone was gaping at me with varying degrees of shock. Tough crowd. Well, everyone but Grex. He had a small notebook and pencil ready.
“What would you like, my mistress?”
I'd like to knock off and go walk around, grabbing a lunch. Maybe something at a corner bistro.
“What about a toasted sub from that one bistro on 4th?”
Grex slapped a fist onto his palm. “You mean the one on the corner of Morris?”
“Yeah, that one. Anyone else want something? We can all go.”
“What are you doing?!?” Baron screamed, lunging at me, stopping just in front of me as Grex put a clawed hand between us.
“What's your problem, Baron?”
Karen pointed at my feet. Ah, I had been poised to step out of the circle, a foot in the air and hovering over it. She quirked an eyebrow.
“Well, yeah. But the circle's part is done. I can step out any time.”
“If you break the circle, can't the demons return and attack you?” Karen asked.
She'd heard me give the orders. “No. Once they agree, they are bound. They can only attack me after the job is complete; that is, they finish up, go back home, and come back to attack me.”
Even if I hadn't expressly stated they had to go home first, I would send each home as soon as they came back.
“And how long do they have to do that task?”
Oh, oops. Damn it, I knew there was something.“Less than a day, if they know what's good for them. They start trying to drag their feet I'll kick their ass.”
Grex cleared his throat.
“Right, I'll send Grex to kick their ass.”
“Imps are rather notorious for obeying the letter but screwing the intent of poorly worded orders. I think you better just settled back in that circle and wait. Besides, you don't want to be gone when they show up with the maps, do you? You didn't add anything to make them wait on you; if you're gone they can just leave the map and run off.”
I hated it when she was right. I settled back on the cold concrete and started stretching my legs; sitting cross-legged was for the birds, even if it kept the feet from scuffing anything important.
“Fine, so I wait. Grex?”
“The smoked ham and asiago?” He asked.
“Yes please. Go get me one, with a Pepsi. You can get yourself a sub too if you want. No ingredients I wouldn't approve of if I were to know of them.”
He bowed deeply, which was likely a nod to present company and not me and was gone in a puff of flame.
Baron's mouth was still open. “You just... you just sent your demon for lunch.” He finally stuttered out.
“Yes. Don't you?” I asked him, batting my eyes.
Behind the aghast man, Karen held up a small sign. 7/10; damn.
“Karen are you Russian?”
She had to hide her sign with a smirk as Baron turned around.
Baron turned back to me, his eyes slits. “No, I do not send my demon to fetch my lunch; not only is such a thing ludicrous while on the job, but it's a good way to end up dead of poisoning or worse. You could be attacked right now and die!”
I looked around. “Not unless you're the one doing it. You planning something? You heard what I told Grex, and the nature of my contract is pretty clear; he cannot disobey me through action or inaction, and he cannot harm me through action or inaction.”
That seemed to take some of the steam out of him; “....It's just unnatural.”
Grex reappeared in a burst of flame, and I was proud of my team; they didn't even flinch.
“I think what Baron is pissed about is you didn't offer us any.”
Well of course not. “You both have demons of your own, and my team just doesn't accept candy from strangers.”
“We don't,” Sarah said. “It's a principle thing, though, Grex seems like a nice creeper, as creepers go.”
Grex inclined his head in her direction. “No offense taken.”
Sarah flipped him off, and he ignored her.
Two bites in, there was a knock; great booming thuds which reverberated in in the cold chamber and in the bones.
Cryptkeeper sighed and levered himself up. “I'll get it.”
I turned to Grex. “Go with him and protect him.”
Grex bowed and followed, while Baron's jaw dropped again. I was in a pretty decent circle; the silver would have to be completely removed in a spot in order for any demon other than Grex to make it to me, or even a power from one. In the time it took for that to happen Grex would come back and maul whoever was trying to attack me. Baron once again had his athame ready; he should already have his demon out, in my opinion, humans were too slow.
Such concerns were pointless; Grex came back escorting Calix. He came back into his part of the circle and groveled, presenting the map with both of his grubby claws.
I could tell from a glance that while crumpled, the map was actually clean and unmarked; that was only proper considering Calix had been given one of the areas we had determined was clean last night.
I shot Karen a look of triumph as I took the scene in. “Did you find any recent demonic activity at your assigned area, Calix?”
“No, your greatness, I did not.” Good; we had taken steps to conceal our own activities last night, and it seems to have worked as Grex advertised. That was one hurdle...hurdled over?
One by one, the imps all came in, to report the same lack of results. I munched my sandwich and followed along since I wasn't about to let it go cold. The final three were the ones to wait on now, and the last was the real test.
They all reported in. A quick check of the time for each revealed the imps had all probably made best speed to their zones and back. Cefkex was the last, and he came in just before quitting time.
He dropped down and groveled. “Your dark Majesty, I have found the evidence you seek. At this building, there is evidence of recent demonic activity.” A slim claw pointed at the warehouse we had visited last night.
“Thank you Cefkex. Now go; back to Hell!”
He pressed his face lower, trying to grind it through the concrete, and vanished in a burst of flame. Rude; the others at least acknowledged the order. Was I too scary?
I turned to Grex. “Am I really that scary?”
Grex smirked. “Absolutely, my mistress; you are terrifying.”
“Yeah like a big white squishy teddy bear,” Karen added, smirking.
I decided to ignore that. Karen had no business commenting on how squishy I may or may not be. “So, this map, and the other two.”
I unfolding myself with a wince and grabbed the maps. I was tempted to co-opt Cryptkeeper's desk, but that thing was nasty.
Baron was being silent; a quick glance his way revealed he still seemed to be in shock. I cocked a thumb his direction. “What's his problem?”
“Well Snow, most of us, if we'd tried the trick you just pulled, we'd be laid out on our back for at least a day. Some weaker summoners would need a week to recover from that. I guess he's kind of shocked you can get up.”
I stretched. “Well, I feel fine. More than a little bored, and more than a little in pain from sitting still so long, but otherwise fine.
I was a little tired and I'm sure I looked it, but it hadn't been from the imps.
“Yeah, Snow is a bit special. Not your run of the mill type, Baron. If she says she can handle something, she can.” A quick but pointed look at Grex, which I caught, and she turned to the man. He handed over a twenty, his face wooden.
“What she did shouldn't even be possible for a fresh summoner. You need time to build a tolerance.”
“What is possible?” Karen replied. “We're summoners. We do the impossible every day.”
Ugh, enough of that. I needed a shower... and a bathroom. Not necessarily in that order.
“Enough already. Karen, you're the expert here. Are we good? Any lingering imps I missed? Anything I didn't anticipate?”
Karen shook her head. “No, not a thing. You got them all, Snow; we're clear. I don't get it really; they didn't even try to swap in ringers or collude.”
What? “They can do that?!?”
“Well yeah, your orders had some decent holes in them. Nothing too terrible, and I was keeping track with Thor, but stuff they could have tried, and at least two of the imps were strong enough for that... but they didn't.”
Well, that wasn't good. Karen had picked up on something. She wasn't sure what it was, not yet, but she knew something was off. Time to deflect.
“Well, maybe it's an authority thing. You know my contract.”
She shrugged as my team cycled us out the door. “That's as good an explanation as any other. I doubt Grex would tell us if we asked...?”
“I've asked before and he's stayed silent.” Even if he explained about the power in my voice later, he hadn't the first few times I'd asked.
Karen shrugged. “Of course not, too easy.”
I wasn't alone in rushing for the bathroom, but I did beat Karen there. The best stall was mine!
Except Sarah was already in it. Rude. The only thing worse would be if Baron followed us in; thankfully he didn't. Grex didn't either, thankfully.
Well, I wasn't waiting; I'd just take the inferior, colder stall. “So, what happens now? We have a better idea where to search.”
“Your part is over,” Karen replied. She was waiting, from the sound of things.“Even if I wanted you there, you've spent way too much time under the influence; Baron was right about that much. But tomorrow we raid. You should pity me, I'll be working late putting together teams and logistics for the raids.”
The stall door opened and a sink started. Sarah was being quiet.
“I do, poor baby.” I wasn't happy about being sidelined. Again. Something told me I should be there.
“Anyway, for now, you're on the clock and late; clock out and take a load off. Get tacos or something, slurp down a couple of mojitos. Do it for both of us; you did good today. Consider it an order.”
I could read between the lines. “Fine. I'll pick up your damn tacos.”
Karen and Sarah both cackled.
Sitting a raid out was far worse than actually participating one. Especially if you did all the intel legwork for the raid in question. And all that was even worse when you knew they could run face first into an angel and get run over en masse like a squirrel on a highway.
Which was why I was up at the unholy hour of six am, coffee in one hand and book in the other, reading about the best ways to remotely manage summoned demons. Fixing those holes in my orders was a must.
I hoped they had the good sense to call me in. After all, I felt fine; totally rested and good to go.
"It is unbecoming to fidget, my Mistress."
"I'm not fidgeting, Grex."
"Of course you aren't, my Mistress."
I rolled my eyes at him and returned to the book. It was more than a little sobering to read a laundry list of failed orders and what the demons did to the summoners who gave said order. More experienced summoners than I had died trying what I attempted; the only thing that made me different was the aura of command or whatever granted by my pact.
Well, that and Grex would have probably gleefully murdered them all for trying anything. If not, well, he had to follow my orders anyway, so we weren't really in any danger of an insurrection. Still, the whole 'freedom to summon more imps' thing was a hole that needed to be closed down, if for no other reason than to keep appearances.
Breakfast was Belgian waffles slathered in strawberries with hash browns on the side. I would have liked some sausage but I apparently forgot to stock up; it was hard remembering everything when trying to catch a killer. There was too much here for one person, really; Grex had outdone himself.
I finished up, all polite decorum. "This sucks!"
Grex raised an eyebrow.
"They're going to be raiding in minutes, and I can't be there, or even see what's going on! They could need me!"
Grex smiled. "Oh, is that all? Would you like to see how the raid goes, my master? Perhaps even affect the outcome, without disobeying the orders of your superiors?"
Was Grex going to make a suggestion? This was bound to be good... or end in blood. "What do you have in mind?"
"A spell of course."
"What, some sort of crystal ball or oracle spell?"
Grex paled. "No! No, visions of the future are specifically the realm of God or his mortals alone. But with a proper spell, you can see through my eyes. Your superiors did not forbid you to send me, after all."
Well, he wasn't wrong. "Alright, how do I cast it?"
I felt a little twinge about using Grex this way, but he was volunteering for it. That made it okay, right? It was legal to film or watch someone doing something public, right? Just as if you were a reporter pointing a camera at a raid? Right, that was all I was doing... sending a willing cameraman to cover the doings of the ADTF.
While it wasn't against the law, there weren't many reporters that actually shadowed the anti-demon task force, but we were mostly covered by the hardcore print and net journalists instead; the ones that used to be war correspondents and still wanted that hazard pay. Journalists of all types seemed to die pretty often around us since if the demons got past us the media were the next people in line.
Come to think of it, I hadn't dealt with any of the journalists or reporters in the city yet, even though I've been involved in most of the recent cases; had Karen or someone else been body blocking me? If so, why? Was the reason innocent, or not so innocent?
Something to worry about later.
Grex taught me the words while he grabbed a bowl of water. Just a simple bowl of water. Then he grabbed a book from my library and thumbed through it until he reached a page, and put the book in front of me.
The spell did what Grex said it would do; create a link between my mind and Grex's eyes. I would see through his eyes until I canceled it, and the only side effects were I'd be personally blind until I canceled the spell. It was only usable between the willing, and formed a link....
Wait a minute, I was an idiot. "Wait, can't I just use our link for this, and circumvent the spell? Other summoners probably do that all the time."
"Perhaps, but then what excuse would I use to teach you the spell? "Grex replied with a smile.
I rolled my eyes at him and inscribed the needed circle on some parchment. Setting the bowl in the center of it and candles on the points, I watched as Grex added one of his old feathers (we still had plenty of loose ones left over from his now mostly healed wing) and an eyelash.
I started the chant, and within moments I was looking down at myself. My voice came from me, but the center of my vision was on me; it was very disconcerting. "It worked. Go scope the raid out."
My vision swam a bit, landing on the floor as Grex bowed. "Your wish is my command, Mistress."
I was a little worried about the lack of communication we'd have, but if I needed to I could just call him back.
No, wait, that was stupid. We weren't doing that. "Wait. Go to the nearest convenience store and buy a phone, and activate it. Keep it safe and on you. If I need you to do something or don't do something, I'll call you."
Grex's vision bobbed again. "Of course, my Mistress."
And then I got to play the waiting game... only blind, so I couldn't read. I refocused on Grex's eyes to find he was already at the store. The cashier didn't even look up as he rang Grex up; Grex must be pretending to be human. Well, either that or the cashier was very inattentive.
A blurring and Grex was airborne. No one batted an eye, so Grex must be invisible now. This spell kind of sucked since any quick movement cause my (or maybe Grex's) peripheral vision to blur, and the vision to narrow. I hope it didn't affect Grex's own vision. Then again, if it did, I couldn't imagine Grex would suggest it; there was a little danger involved in where he was going.
I saw as Grex fiddled with the phone; it was too bad I couldn't use this spell to hear. But then again I didn't think I'd want to be blind and deaf, even in the safety of my apartment. Soon enough he dialed my number, and my phone rang.
"Hello, Grex."
"Hello, Mistress. I thought I'd make sure this contraption worked. Do you need anything from me?"
"No, thank you. Continue your mission."
"As you command, my Mistress."
A minute of blurring and pinpoint vision focused directly ahead into the bright blue sky and my field of view expanded again as Grex looked below him to reveal one of the staging areas. By chance, or perhaps not, he was directly over the staging area for my team. I could see right away that Sarah and company were being escorted by Baron.
I probably shouldn't worry, Baron had five years and a tour in; at the very least he was a survivor, which meant he had to be competent. But any teamwork was likely to be the minimal standard. the other side of the pincer had the Captain and Karen, with a few subs on the more mundane side. It was hard to tell who was who past the masks when I only seen them in passing for the last couple weeks.
I didn't need to check my watch (which was a good thing, considering I couldn't see it) to know the raid had less than six minutes to kick off. I had pushed for dawn, being a fan of the classics, but the more experienced heads had pushed for eight am, citing it as a time in which hyper-alert or hyper-paranoid would be even less vigilant than at dawn.
We would find out who was right; I hoped they were.
Promptly at eight, the two teams went in, with Grex close behind - invisible, of course.
The first set of traps were set just past the door. My team almost blundered into them, a series of explosive circles set into the floor amid a series of other, fake circles and wards. Roddy saved them at the last minute by pointing them out as he almost stepped on one. It took ten minutes to map the correct path through the minefield. There was no visible evidence of explosions or signs of panic among the team, so it was safe to assume that the other team had found them too if spells covered both entrances.
I pondered the handiwork as the team paused. Maybe I could recreate them or something, but it wasn't a tradition I was familiar with; if anything, it looked older. I filed it away for later.
Roddy was just giving the all clear when my vision blurred again; something yellow and orange to the left just before my field of view shrank. My field expanded to show my team already fighting a Baal-Rog, moving for cover like the well-oiled unit they were while Baron fumbled to catch up.
Baron's summon was a cacodemon and an actual lord of Hell judging from the elaborate headgear, which was mildly surprising, I wouldn't have suspected he had it in him. Of course, the cacodemon was at least a little outclassed, but the baal-rog's flames weren't reaching the team, so that was something.
Then lightning announced Karen and Thor's arrival on the scene. The baal-rog fought both the team's demons off for over a minute before Karen managed to get a banishment on it; Baron was only steps behind. He really was as good as his reputation suggested, for all that he was an ass.
The baal-rog vanished, and Grex panned his eyes around; no one had been hurt beyond some minor burns, and most of the spellwork had been scoured from the floor, which was a bit of a bonus.
The summoner of the baal rog was nowhere to be seen; the search for them began. I noticed a few imps I recognized going through the warehouse too, so there were more summoners from our side about, helping from a distance.
I called Grex.
"Yes, my Mistress?"
"Find the summoner, now."
"Yes, my Mistress." Grex sighed out and then hung up.
I saw him look around a bit, then my vision blurred again. Jeeves didn't have to look far, because coming out of the bathrooms was the very picture of 'crazy summoner.' Tall but stooped, wearing corduroy pants caked in dirt and a shirt that was half rags under a jacket that looked surprisingly well cared for, the man's beard had grown in strange ways and all but taken over his face.
His mouth opened and he yelled something I couldn't hear. I wish I couldn't see; his teeth were broken off pits in his gums. I could have done without that, really.
He was down on the ground before he'd taken a step, already being zip-tied and gagged.
Karen started gesturing around and giving orders. The team started snapping to, finishing the clearing of the building while the demons took point.
My phone rang.
"Hello?"
It was Karen. "I get it, Snow, you wanted to be here where the action is, see what was going on, and all that. You're not technically breaking orders since you aren't here, but get Grex out of here, alright? We don't need him here, and he's contaminating the site."
Uh oh. "Um, whoops?" I had kind of forgotten about that.
"Don't whoops me young lady, just do it. Don't worry, we'll preserve the scene and let you see it to your heart's content tomorrow. We need to figure out where this idiot came from, after all."
"Got it. Okay, hanging up now."
Grex had watched Karen make the call. I called him.
"Yes, my Mistress?"
"Pull back, somehow they, or Karen at least, knows you're there."
"Understood." My eyesight blurred again, and I tried not to get motion sick.
Wait, why was I bothering? A quick fumble to find the candles and I blew on them, putting them out. Then I blinked my own eyesight clear of the stars. Well, that worked and didn't blind me or anything, so that was a plus. Next time I should both read and remember how to cancel the spell, just to be sure.
There were blind summoners for various reasons, but joining them due to a miscast spell wasn't something I wanted to do.
I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee when Grex arrived, breaking all kinds of land speed records but not teleporting like he usually did. I let him make his own cup and sit down before grilling him; he had done well today and it was the least I could do.
"So, your impressions?"
"I've none, actually."
"No opinion either way, huh? What did the summoner yell out when he saw everyone?"
"'The dark lord will take you all for interrupting his great work!' is the direct quote."
The dark lord? "Which one? Aren't there dozens of those?"
"Hundreds," Grex corrected me. "But in this case, I feel he was speaking of someone well placed on our hierarchy; perhaps even at the top."
"So, someone you know then; lovely. Well, at least I'll be able to make some impressions of my own when I go to the scene later."
Jackpot. Grex's face stayed still and relaxed, but I was pretty sure I'd spotted a reaction. Grex knew something, and it was probably something he couldn't say, rather than wouldn't. At least, unless not knowing put me in direct danger - so whoever the dark lord was, it was higher up than he was himself.
Or I was totally off on what he was concerned about; I'd find out tomorrow, with some luck.
Time to make sure Grex couldn't hide anything. "Alright Grex, well I'm a bit worried here. So stay close to me."
Grex bowed. "Of course, my Mistress."
I sat back, relaxed, and read while Grex watched the nature channel.
I couldn't find anything in any of those books on the symbols I saw, so I decided to go to the source. Well, before a nap; I was a little tired. Perhaps even tired enough to warrant a day off; maybe I'd even owe Karen an apology.
"Grex, do you remember those symbols in the warehouse? The circles and inscriptions?"
He didn't even bother looking over. "Of course I do; I saw them, as you did."
"Well, I'm not finding any matches in these books."
"Of course not, the language the circles were scribed in is long since defunct. It was ancient when Rome declared itself a republic or even Greeks decided they were civilized."
"So what language is it, and how did some crazy homeless looking summoner learn it?"
Now Grex looked over. "Well clearly, a demon taught him."
That followed to an extent, but something didn't add up there. "If so, then how did he summon a demon in the first place? He had to have another tradition, and we were operating on the assumption of German... but I don't remember seeing any evidence of past or present German influence in the writing."
Grex turned back to the show. "To be honest, I did not either. I suppose it will be something that bears investigating."
Good, he thought he was safe. Time to strike. "So exactly what language was it Grex?"
Grex flinched; a tiny but still visible one. "A language that as much in common with the early languages of this world, but whose root structure and basic concepts are demonic."
I gave him my best stare. "Don't try to tell me that language was a demonic invention because that doesn't fly."
Grex chuckled, though that could be from the lion taking down the gazelle... had we seen that episode before? "No my Mistress, not at all. The language was invented by God, and both our peoples are borrowing from the same source. But much as next door neighbors borrow substances from each other, so too has language evolved."
"So then this means...." He was trying to squirm away from something, I knew it.
Grex gave a sigh and held his hands up in surrender. "The language is demonic in origin but shares some words and ideas from human languages. However, it does not originate on Earth and has no true correlation here. Thus, it has no name you'd be familiar with."
Yeah, no. "Grex, the name."
Grex winced again; perhaps I'd let some of my authority trickle into my voice in anger. "The name of the language is Encian, after the human language of Enochian. Before it was given that name, it had none, and was just referred to as 'the language.'"
"Thank you Grex."
Grex turned back to the television. "You're welcome, my Mistress."
He didn't ask if I had any other questions for him, which was a little rude, but given what I'd just done to him I could understand it.
There was nothing in my books about anything named Encian, or a brother language to Enochian. Not even the ones Grex gave me; a closely guarded secret perhaps, that I'd forced Grex to spill?
"My Mistress...."
I looked up; when had it gotten dark? Grex was staring at me, something that might be concern pooled in his inhuman eyes. "My Mistress, please; days off are meant for relaxation. You've gone through everything you can here, why not watch television with me?"
Technically if I was supposed to be relaxing, then Grex should be home so I could recover from the drain of summoning him... not that I felt any such thing really. Wait a minute, if the apartment served as a gateway to Hell, and I sent Grex home, didn't that mean he was only a few doors down from me when I slept here or something? And what of the other demons, weren't they right outside my door? A scary thought.
At least they couldn't get in unless I let them in... right? A quick glance at the walls assured me it was so; someone would need to lay siege to this place mystically to crack it.
"My Mistress?" Oh right, Grex was still here.
"Fine, but we aren't watching that channel anymore." I plopped down on the other end of the couch and grabbed the remote.
I finally settled on a marathon of action movies, because mindless violence that I didn't need to think about was a thing.
....I woke up when Grex tried to approach. "Grex, what are you doing?"
He actually scuffed one foot on the other, like a naughty school boy. "I was going to put you to bed, as you had fallen to sleep."
All of the no. "Yeah, let's not do that at all. Go home Grex, I'll see myself to bed."
He bowed and disappeared in his customary burst of flame.
I steadied myself on the couch and shook my head to clear it; I felt a little compressed as if my head were in a cushioned vice or something, and someone was turning the crank for it slowly.
I knew this feeling; it felt as if I were too full of power as if I were a carbonated drink and someone shook me.
My earrings were in place, and so were my bracelets. I took them all off and set them on my nightstand. I could tell the difference immediately, as the feeling of being about to pop like an overripe tomato started to fade.
I luxuriated in both my sheets and the feeling of freedom.
I did not luxuriate in the alarm the next morning; I hopped out of bed. There were things to investigate today, mysteries to solve, and jewelry to ignore.
"Grex, Veni huc!"
Grex wrapped me in a hug; I pointed to the books. "Breakfast, the usual rules apply, and then clean that mess up."
"As you command, my Lady."
By the time I was done with my shower breakfast was on the table and the books were all back in their places; even my notes were organized alphabetically and by book.
Grex was a cheater.
At least breakfast was waffles again; he couldn't completely break the laws of physics. Well, all of them at any rate. Or was it all of them at once?
"You aren't wearing your earrings," Grex noted. I guess coming out of the bathroom still drying your hair made it obvious.
With a shrug, I dropped the towel. "I felt... constrained last night, so I took them off. I'm safe enough here, aren't I?"
Grex nodded. "You are, but it wouldn't do to forget them. Once you step foot into the hall..."
"I know, I'll be a beacon for everyone. I won't forget." I swear, usually, it was one time and no one let you live it down. I hadn't even forgotten once and I was still hearing it.
"Meanwhile I'll work on the problem. It wouldn't do to have you burst at the seams, as it were." Grex continued.
I had to admit to some curiosity, even if I was a bit fatalist about the whole thing (After all, who could change my fate now?). "Can that actually happen?"
Grex smiled with his teeth on full display. "Not to worry, there are steps that can be taken."
Well, that was comforting.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Grex, would you get the door please?"
"Of course, my Lady."
As expected, Karen was at the door - which was a good thing, since I was half expecting a slavering demon to come rushing through it. I really needed to get a grip there, my own visualizations controlled that transfer and if I wasn't careful I'd have no one to blame there but myself.
"Good morning Snow! Ready to get your Watson on?"
I rolled my eyes at Karen as she stole a waffle. "Oh please, you're totally the Watson of this little group."
Karen shook her head and choked down the pilfered treat. I got up and slipped my robe on and started patting it down for all the essentials; the best thing about robes were the pockets they could provide.
"Nah, I'm the Holmes; I'm the witty and fun one, and you're the dour and serious one who moves the plot along with obvious questions. Or maybe the Cagney to my Lacy."
I knew of that show but had never seen it. Wasn't Lacy supposed to be the dour one though?
Whatever, I had a response to make. "That assumes you can pull off being brilliant, which is something anyone who knows you should question. Also, not a hint of casual drug use from you."
She punched me on the shoulder. Well more of a tap, really, since Grex was there. "See? That's what I'm talking about! And if casual drug use is a prerequisite, what about yours, huh?"
"I didn't make the comparison in the first place," I replied loftily. My own addictions must never be admitted to.
"Details, details," Karen stated, brushing me off with a reasonable imitation of my own tone and voice.
I had to give her credit. "Not bad."
She grinned and bowed, almost bowling someone else over (she ignored his glare entirely) "Thank you."
I shrugged; it wasn't like the other summoners didn't know what Karen was like, he would get over it.
Grex cleared his throat. Loudly.
Oh, right. "I'll be right back."
There was another set of bracelets in my jewelry pile; how had he done that?
I slipped them on and worked on the earrings. At least it wasn't a nose ring; because I would nope right out of anything like that; hearing Gloria's horror stories of her piercings was enough. Then again, I was running out of ear; hopefully, this crap would end or I might have to go for my belly button or something. No, more bracelets were best.
"My car or yours?" I asked as I rejoined Karen at the door.
"Both. I know, not very environmentally friendly, but I might get called away, or you might."
Well, I guess I could wait until we were on the scene, but I really wanted at least one question answered. "You found something there, didn't you? After Grex left."
Karen nodded as the smile fled her face. "Bodies. It's no secret, and I've got pictures if you want to see... but I don't recommend it. The remains were sent away for DNA testing, and we should have identities soon, but it looked a lot like people just plucked from the streets and sacrificed to me."
Something seemed off about that. "Was there a bump in missing persons?"
A spike in missing persons was one of the signs you looked for regarding increases in demonic activity, for just this very reason.
Karen nodded again. "We didn't have much to go on, normally there's some evidence of the demonic. In all of these cases, there wasn't any, so the normal cops were working them."
That was stupid; they still should have been mentioned in the morning briefings. I didn't remember any such statements, and that seemed a terrible oversight, even taking into account that we were a rapid response force, not an investigative one.
"How did they know there was no evidence?"
"They brought me in, duh."
Well, that explained some of where Karen had been the last couple of weeks. I guess I could trust her that far.
The drive was directly over to the warehouse, and accompanied by some classic rock; I was officially clocked in and expected to take a look over the scene in case there were more around the city, so I'd know what to look for before my actual shift in the replacement transport started. I sang along since I was alone and could get away with it.
I didn't like that transport, it was too new and it smelled funny. It wasn't the glorious smell of new car either, but something else, and the air fresheners could only do so much.
I chafed at the traffic. Was it wrong of me to want to stop time and weave through all the morning snarls? I tried to tamp my normal urges - when I drove more aggressively traffic had a tendency to freak out a little.
Whatever, twenty minutes later (Almost the entire inna goda davida song!) I was in front of the warehouse. Only two cars had pulled to the side and let me pass, so I hadn't garnered too much attention to myself this time. Well, no more than my silly car normally generated at any rate.
I parked next to Karen and went right in, completely unchallenged by all the uniforms surrounding the place. There were two summoners here to keep the peace as well, one of the Charlies and Magilla. They were here to keep the cops out of the scene in order to avoid triggering traps or worse, as much as keeping civilians out, since only the most diehard insane types would dare enter this warehouse now.
It would likely get torn down and just left undeveloped, like any of hundreds of other sites like it, even after we cleared it completely and gave it a clean bill of help. Though in a few places in the bible belt churches had been built on a few of the more infamous spots; some of those Christians had guts.
The scene had already been partially cleaned, but seeing it through Grex's eyes didn't do it full justice. There was blood painted on the walls, and both arcane and profane symbols were carved or painted on top of it. The floors were all rust red, and under all that, there was a huge circle chased with runes.
The stench of death was still thick enough to choke on.
It was hard to read all this; there was so much interference from all quarters and all senses. I turned to find Karen at my shoulder, holding out a mask.
I put it on and it had been treated with something that cut most of the stench. "Thanks."
Karen waved it off. "Think nothing of it. Just take it off first if you intend to toss your breakfast."
Please. This was bad, but she had to know I'd smelled worse at boot camp. "As if."
I pulled out my notebook and found an empty page, and started making notes.
I was onto my seventh page and third round of the space when a brightening of the dim light caused me to look up. Straight into the face of the oncoming angel, who already had his white shining sword raised and was less than twenty feet away.
I ducked and a searing wave of heat washed over me,
"Why do you hide your wings, fallen?"
I pulled up short just in time to avoid getting split in half by a stroke that cut through the floor and likely went on. Landing flat on my ass, I rolled.
"Where are your attendants, fallen? Your soulless?"
He was right behind me! I dive-rolled again and scrambled, finally getting enough distance. "Grex, veni huc!"
Grex must have had some idea of what was going on, because he appeared with his own sword, just in time to shower me with sparks as the two pieces of metal met and clashed.
"I see you found our friend, my Mistress."
I only dodge the sword strike because I was already slowing time around me. "Less talk and more defense, Grex."
Grex smiled into the cold face of the angel as they clashed again and spit out: "Women - you can never please them, you know? They always criticize."
The angel's reply was a series of slashes formed at a blistering speed I couldn't really follow. Grex matched it but gave ground.
The angel turned to me. "Your champion is insufficient, fallen. Will you not draw your own sword, and enter combat yourself?"
That sounded like all kinds of bad idea, especially since I had no sword. "I'm good here, thanks."
As attenuated and time dilated as my speech was, the angel showed he understood the gist. With a snarl, he battered at Grex, trying not to kill him, but get to me. I wasn't sure Grex could take him if the angel's attention switched, and I really didn't want to kill an angel despite the angel's own bloodthirst. But I'd have to uncork the magic soon or we'd just lose.
So of course Grex had to draw his attention. "And what of yourself, angel? Who is it that brought you here, I wonder? Whose prayers did you answer?"
The angel turned to Grex with a growl. "I come on a mission in search of much greater game than you, servile one. I seek a lord of your kind, befouling this place," the angel pointed at me."I came in search of such, and I found - her."
Well, maybe I did smell or something. The angel seemed to think so. I leaped up and threw my banishment stones to add gravity to my own enhanced speed, and all of them hit my target. They smoked as they peppered him, but that was all.
So banishment wasn't an option; I guess it made sense. Still, he had several holes through him now, and he looked more than a little pissed. Well, more pissed.Not that looking more pissed was really possible.
Yeah, it was time to stop playing fair. Or to play less fair. "Abnex, Sarex, veni huc!"
The twins appeared and were less up to speed than Grex had been. "Hello, boss, what's up?" Sarex asked, popping her gum. She got weirder every time.
Abnex took the situation in at a glance, and his scythe appeared in hand. "Angel, sis."
Sarex looked, and her gum fell from her mouth, so wide was her grin. "Oh, yeah...party time!"
I couldn't believe I was saying this. "Don't kill him. Just... drive him off.
Sarex didn't stop, her scythe now in hand, but she did pout. "Awww, but I wanted to have some fun!"
With three demons in the mix, all working in concert, the odds evened. But they didn't seem to tip in my favor. I knew the names of some imps, but I sincerely doubted that any number of imps would tip the balance. I drew my athame.
"Enough!" The angel shouted, and exploded in light, driving us all back.
I blinked my eyes clear to find I was being covered, and the angel was glaring at me past my meat shields. "I have been given special dispensation to end this pit of evil, and I shall. Behold the glory of God!"
He began to glow. Sarex took my shoulder and tried to move me, but I was faster than she was and dragged her along as what could only be a laser started from the angel, and we all broke in different directions.
None of us were hit for all the speed of the light, and our return fire consisted of actual fire (from me) and three weapons stuck into the offender.
The angel grimaced and blood like liquid silver flowed from his mouth. He ripped himself free of the scythes and sword, and more blood flowed.
"You cannot best me, fallen," the angel claimed while turning tail. "I shall return."
Grex, Abnex, and Sarex all prepared to strike again.
"No!"
I put all power which I could into my voice. The angel took flight and crashed through the ceiling, and my three allies turned to me and shrieked as one:
"What are you doing?!?" At least Sarex added "We had him!" afterward.
"I told you, no killing him." I was not going to be responsible for killing an angel, even if he wanted me dead. That was a stain I didn't want on my soul - when Grex finally claimed it. Some people went the other way when the realization of their doom hit, but I wouldn't be one of them.
A mote of light wafted down, a small flashing thing that looked fragile and appeared to ignore gravity. I was the only one that could see it from my vantage point.
"Grex, what's that?"
Grex turned and paled; actually paled. The twins turned and paled. Grex held his hands out the twins followed at their best speed without a word and what could only be a shield sprang to life between all of them, merging into one.
The mote continued to fall; did the demons forget we were all sped up?
"Should we even be staying here for this?" We still had a second or more before the mote hit the floor.
"No, if you can do it, do it." Grex answered through gritted teeth.
I was better than I used to be. A quick moment of focus and we were all up in the air over the warehouse. Looking at the structure from this angle, the damage was obvious; Karen was going to kill me.
"Okay, so what did we just run from?"
The three demons reoriented themselves and without missing a beat brought up their shield again. I started to fall and snagged Grex around the waist; there was no way I could pop my own wings here.
The explosion was magnificent, in a way. It blew the warehouse apart; the shockwave knocked us back and I hit something head first. Or did something hit me head first?
There were two Grex's. Something told me that was a bad thing, but I couldn't think of why. The twins came into view - all four of them. I was on the ground for some reason; why was I on the ground?
"Are you alright, Maeve." The Grexes asked.
"I think so?" The words didn't want to come out right, but I managed to spit them out before they could choke me.
A hand to the back of my head came away slick with blood.
"Maybe I'm not."
I remembered. The bomb!
Sitting up was a mistake. One of the Grex's caught me, which was a good idea since I was beginning to suspect I had a head injury. Oh well, the brick was nice and soft, powdered as it was.
"Just lie back my Mistress." All of Grex's four hands began to glow.
A moment later all four eyes of Grex blinked, and both mouths began to frown. My vision grayed out for a moment, and then I was moving. I wasn't sure I wanted to be moving; it was wrong to move someone who was injured. I think; it was kind of hard to focus on thought.
"She's not healing."
"Yes, thank you Sarex, I had not noticed."
"At least she's not getting worse. Some aspect of her power?" Abnex commented.
I wasn't sure I liked how clinical his tone was. He looked almost like he was staring at a bug he'd like to step on. Unless I was seeing things - and with multiple versions of my favorite demons, that was pretty much a certainty.
"It's likely." Grex answered.
Grex leaned in, and I felt panic. Soft hands lifted me up and explored the back of my head.
"I apologize Maeve; You were improperly braced for the explosion, and I should have taken that into account."
"Explosion? There was an explosion?" Oh, my voice. My tongue worked, which meant I hadn't bitten it off. That was a good thing. Wait, that glowy mote thing had been an actual bomb?
Who knew Heaven packed nukes?
"Are we okay?" I asked.
"You took the worst of all of us from the blast." Grex answered.
It was true the demons didn't look hurt at all; barely a single hair was out of place.
The cops! "Are the cops okay?"
Grex shifted a bit. "Mostly."
Mostly wasn't good enough. "Go help them. Abnex and Sarex can protect me."
Oh, Grex did not like that at all. "No, they shall help the police wounded. You are in danger, and I exercise my right per our contract clause."
I could feel it, a sort of faint snap or hum in the air as he invoked the contract between us verbally for the first time in my (admittedly spotty at the moment) memory.
The twins grumbled but walked out of view, toward where the police cordon had been... possibly. Up was up, and down was down, but left and right and East and West were a little lost at the moment.
Sarex had something wadded up and placed it under my head. It was probably going to get bloody and stain. "Why didn't it work?"
Abnex blocked the sun, looking down. "I don't know; the gift should have worked. But this isn't something we should talk about now. Mistress Maeve, can you help yourself? Do you know of anyway?"
I didn't, and answered as much - or tried to. I don't think I managed too well.
Abnex seemed to understand anyway, but of course, Sarex was the one who answered. "A pity. You could always dilate time around yourself and speed up your own healing."
Perhaps that was a good idea... but I couldn't focus. I garbled out as much, and again the twins seemed to get it.
Abnex responded by repeating Sarex: "A pity."
The twins shared a look... a look that I didn't like. I sat up, ignoring how my head swam. "'M fine."
"Of course you are, my Mistress," they answered in perfect stereo.
I was saved from having to respond by the return of Grex, with an EMT following warily behind him.
Wait, I was on a roof. The brick I had crushed with my skull was still there, red brick from the crenelation of the old warehouse across the street, and the warehouse we were at....
Well, there were two walls still standing anyway; that was a plus. I hoped.
The EMT pulled away the cloth, now soaked with my blood, and went to work scraping the back of my head with sandpaper, all while casting nervous glances at Grex who was looming behind him. The cloth was a... spare dress? I snagged it and looked. Something nagged me about it.
"Sorry about your dress."
Sarex waved it off and answered. "It was something handy. We couldn't have you bleeding out on the roof."
Abnex took the clothing back. "I'll just burn it; can't have something with your blood around. I'll get the roof too, while I'm at it."
That made sense, blood was a powerful catalyst. "Alright, but do it now, in front of me, and my witness here."
The EMT was less than thrilled with being called a witness.
Right, time to face the music. "Casualties Grex?"
"Minor injuries, my Mistress. The police were not the target of the attack and were far enough from the explosion to prevent deaths. No civilians were present. Indeed, no pet life was harmed, though rats and cockroaches died by the score."
Oddly precise, but comforting. At least I hadn't completely failed on that front yet.
"Good."
I grabbed my phone, which through some miracle had survived this time. Speed dialing the Captain was the proper thing to do, so I did that first - even though he was probably on his way already. Well scratch that, he was, I could hear the sirens now. How long had it been since the start of the fight?
He answered before the first ring finished. "Go ahead, Snow."
"Um, you're going to be mad," I winced. That had slipped out. "Sorry. The warehouse crime scene got hit. Major activity - The scene is a total loss, but casualties are light, limited to some injuries, including mine."
"Alright sit tight, we're on our way." He hung up.
I dialed Karen. She also picked up before the ring finished, and I could also hear sirens in the background. She didn't wait for me to talk though. "I'm on my way back Snow - I assume since you have time to call me the fight's over?"
I managed to stick to the script this time. "Yes, and I'm not sure who won. I drove off the attacker, but he used some sort of magical bomb to make good his escape. The crime scene is a total loss."
"Must have been looking to cover his tracks, and you got in the way."
I didn't think so, but I wasn't about to argue. "He was on me before I saw him. I think he snuck right past the summoner on duty."
A sudden sense of panic jackhammered my heart. The other Summoner! I hadn't ordered Grex to check on him!
Grex met my gaze and shrugged before giving me a thumbs up and mouthing 'fine'.
"How bad were we hit?" Karen asked.
"Just injuries, nothing permanent," I answered back.
Karen voiced what would have been my own opinion, had I not known what I knew. "Hm, very odd. Demons usually go for casualties when they attack."
Except the humans had been innocent, and angels were only into punishing the guilty, apparently. No, there was more to it than that, because even among humans all were guilty if I remembered my bible.
"I think he just wanted to have a nice quiet explosion, without any evidence of tampering. That or he was ordered to." I hated lying, even by omission. Implying what attacked me was another demon (even if no one would believe me about angels) and also implying he was after the crime scene when I was pretty sure (but not one hundred percent positive) that he had been after me.
"Probably. I'm not too sure what any summoner would get from destroyed the scene after we got pretty much everything we needed, but most summoners don't play with a full deck anyway. If the damage is too bad, we can just fall back to photos and video evidence."
Looks like she didn't understand just what I meant by 'destroy evidence' and 'bomb'. I wasn't about to tell her while she was driving; she sucked as it was. "Look, I got to go. An EMT is waving a penlight in my face."
And he was, right in my eyes. I hung up and tried to keep my gaze steady.
His verdict wasn't long in coming. "A clear concussion. Your eyes are taking some time to dilate; is the light painful?"
"Yes."
My eyes weren't as bad as my head... or my back for that matter. I was sure something had to be broken there, but my toes and fingers wiggled when I asked the to, so I wasn't too worried. The EMT caught me checking. Then he started probing my ribs.
Grex tensed, but I warned him back with a signal the EMT was too busy to catch.
"Problems breathing?"
"No."
"Numbness or tingling in your extremities?"
"No."
He started poking at my legs next. "Any pain?"
"Just my head. Well and my back."
The EMT... his nametag said Carl... Carl shook his head. "Yeah, you've probably got a full body bruise on your backside, but nothing seems broken. You might not even have any cracks; you're either very lucky... or very tough. Maybe it's both."
It was probably both. Though how I was so tough there was a good question to ask; maybe the shield had protected me before it failed. I shot Grex a look, and he shrugged. He didn't know? Something was up. I refused to believe he didn't know - he must not want to say in front of the normie.
Oh. I just called someone a normie, even in my head; I was officially as bad as the rest of my fellow summoners now.
I started to get up, and this time Carl pushed me back down. "You should stay as still as possible and wait for the stretcher. My partner is on the way, and we will get you off this roof no problem, there could be an injury we don't know about and if you start moving around you'll aggravate it."
Well, that was... probably true and ominous for it. I sat back again and waited. But honestly, I was already sitting! I had been sitting, so if my spine were going to fold in on itself, wouldn't it have already happened?
"I'm afraid I can no longer sit idly by." Grex stated. "I will not allow any injuries my mistress has suffered to be exacerbated by two fumble fingered oafs jostling her downstairs. Bring your stretcher and we demons shall carry it."
The twins faced soured. Wait, when had there stopped being two of everyone?
Thinking back, I couldn't remember the time, just that when I first woke my vision was screwed, and now it wasn't.
Was I insane (well, more insane) or was I actually recovering quickly? It was possible that I could simply by manipulating my own flow of time. But I wasn't doing any of that, nor was any of the demons around me.
Carl's partner (his nametag proclaimed him Jerry) came up with the stretcher, a mass of plastic steel and canvas that folded to the size of a breadbox. He stopped short at the sight of Grex and the twins, and Carl had to reach over and grab the stretcher to get it unfolded.
Jerry was hyperventilating; he knew what was looking back at him. "Jerry, hello."
My greeting got him to focus on me. "Hello, Miss."
Carl tapped me on the shoulder; the stretcher took no time at all to unfold apparently. "You can at least move this far, I'd guess. Carefully, please."
I shifted over and laid down. Grex stepped up and the stretcher began to float absolutely level at his side. The twins took up position on my other side and we all went off the side of the roof together. The demons slowed down with a quick flare of their wings while I floated.
"Just going to leave the EMT's up there, huh?"
"I would advise against them walking off the building; they have working legs, and can use the stairs without issue," was Grex's rather imperious response.
We started down the street towards the police cordon - or what was left of it. A little too far as it turned out. "No Grex, the ambulance. The EMT's are going to want to take me to the hospital to make sure everything is fine."
X-rays and MRI's and blood work, oh my. They would probably check for drugs while they were at it. I know I would, because you had to be high for this. Why wasn't I high for this?
I was at least going to drink tonight. A nice glass of wine or champagne or something. "Grex, a note. Remind me to get a nice bottle of wine for tonight."
Oh, crap. I was supposed to be on shift - right now! Who were they going to get to cover for me? There wasn't anyone else around to do it.
I was gently slid into the back of the ambulance. There was no need to delay it anymore, there wasn't anyone close. "Grex, what happened back there?"
"What do you mean, my Mistress?"
Oh, he knew. "I mean why am I not dead. I powdered brick with the back of my head, and I'm still alive. My skull even seems intact; so what happened?"
Grex had to answer, but he did not look happy about it. "I am not certain, but it is likely as you suspect; the shield failed. I did my best to intercept you, but my efforts were... insufficient."
Ah, that's it. He didn't want to admit failure.
"Don't worry about it Grex." But even if he'd grabbed me and slowed me down, I was still going fast enough to powder brick. Maybe it was just old brick? After all, it was an old building....
No, something was up.
The EMT's arrived back at ground level at the same time the screech of brakes announced Karen's arrival. At least she stopped before the police line.
The EMT's managed to get to their ambulance in time enough to look busy as Karen got out of her car. "SNOOOW! You better be half dead!"
I was right; she was a little angry.
She looked to the cops, and the traitors pointed out my ambulance. Now informed, Karen stomped over, and the EMT's shrank back from her angry presence. Or maybe it was Thor, behind her. I know the twins were puffing up for all they were worth.
Which was kind of funny, really. But it hurt to laugh.
Karen took one look at me and said. "Alright, you're forgiven,"
"You should see the other guy. But seriously, that bad?"
"Well, you have your everything intact, but you look about as bad off as someone who has their everything intact can be."
I loved Karen's bedside manner. "Thanks a bunch. I think the robes stopped most of it."
A minor lie there. I had no doubt the robes helped, but if I hadn't dodged or been quite so lucky, I would be dead. That sword the angel had been swinging was no joke. I'd have suspected the robe of saving my skull, but I'd had the hood down. I'd have to check the enchantments later to make sure they hadn't been compromised; normally they could only take so much.
Karen turned to Carl. "How bad is it really?"
"She got very lucky," Carl responded. "A concussion, but not a really bad one, not a light one either. We are taking her in to make sure nothing else is wrong, but she should be released later today and free to dance in exploding buildings again in a few days."
"So she should need a few days?"
"Yes," Carl answered with a nod. "At least until tomorrow. And bright lights should be avoided. Bed rest should be fine, but you'll have to wait for the doctor's all clear."
"Alright, take her out then. I'll handle things here Snow, don't worry."
"But, who is going to take my shift?" I blurted out like an idiot.
Karen rolled her eyes. "Someone else. Seriously, it's not like we haven't handled things without you before."
Yeah, but that was different. I was the center of the universe, a legend in my own mind, or something.
Carl tried to shut the door - only to be blocked by demons. Three of them, polishing their claws on their clothes. It was ridiculous.
"Abnex, Sarex, go home. Grex, you can ride with me if you behave."
I didn't know how other summoners stood it, but I just didn't feel safe alone. Especially with all the nutjobs running around. It really said a lot about a city, when the summoners weren't the craziest people to be found in it.
Grex got in one side, and Carl took the other and shut the doors.
I had no idea how I was going to get my car back; I wasn't too fond of the idea of leaving it out here for the night, even assuming it had survived being so close; It had been parked on the other side of the ambulance seeing to the uniforms was located. It was probably fine; none of the police cars had looked too bad (except for the one with a piece of metal through the windshield) and they had been parked closer; my car was built tougher than my robes were.
The ride proved very annoying. Every time I would so much as drift a little, Carl would say something to his partner, Jerry. Loudly. I wasn't even trying to sleep! Replaying the fight in my head was probably not the best type of therapy, but it was hard for me to follow now. A blur filled with mortal terror and reaction, with the steps half remembered.
Sirens started, but the ambulance siren wasn't used, out of deference to my massive headache. At least, that was the reason Jerry gave. I could appreciate it, but I got the feeling Jerry wasn't in too big a hurry to make sure I wasn't dying. I wasn't of course, but he didn't know that for sure. At least there was an escort.
"Are we going to memorial?" Hismel memorial was where most of us ended up; we still had ADTF members there.
Carl shot that hope down. "Nah, County is closer, and you are technically a serious case."
Darn, I wouldn't be able to make the rounds or see that nurse again. What was her name...?
Hell, I couldn't remember. I hope that was just normal forgetfulness, and not a bad sign of things to come - like my brain leaking out of my ears.
We pulled in and stopped, and Carl got the doors; I guess we really had been close to County. Jerry grabbed the bottom of the stretcher and pulled it out, and I got to relive the fantasies I never had about living out a medical drama, complete with a worried person staring down at me and keeping pace.
Of course, they didn't dare try to keep Grex out of the examination room; any attempt wouldn't have ended well for them.
Then the similarity ended, and Grex and I waited. For almost five minutes we waited before the doctor came in. He was young, tall, and darkly handsome, with a well-built body peeking out from his coat. His nametag read Dimitri, so I was guessing he was foreign. He was also more than a little nervous; I swear I could smell his fear.
His accent proved Russian. "I'm doctor Dimitri, I'm here to examine you to see if you need to be admitted."
"By all means," I told him, lying back.
I expected him to go over the same ground Carl had, but instead, he waited until a nurse rolled in a machine on wheels that looked a lot like a large business copier on stilts. It had a screen on the side at least, but the nurse moved it out of my way, and with a wary look at Grex, adjusted the stilts so the box would go over me.
"Are you wearing any metal?"
What a loaded question. "Earrings and bracelets."
She said the phrase I dreaded. "You're going to need to take them off."
So, an MRI, not an x-ray. "They are moderately important. Is there another way?"
"No." She stated flatly. How unreasonable.
I decided to have a little fun. "Alright, but we better make it quick then; Once I divest myself completely we only have moments before the hordes of Hell lock on to this location and kill us all."
The best lies or jokes always had a grain of truth in them. The nurse stopped, actually shocked out of her cynical zombie state, and I noticed she did not have a nametag.
Then she decided I was joking. "Don't worry, we'll be quick."
I had actually seen the moment the nurse had decided I was putting her on; it had been a novel experience. So was the irony. I started taking my earrings out and the woman's eyebrows rose at the sheer number of them.
Each piece of jewelry removed had me feeling - wild, but at peace. I could feel strength flow like a white river through my soul, flowing around ceaselessly. My wings twitched, but I stomped that instinct down; now was exactly the wrong time for those to come out. I was likely enough of a beacon already. I handed them all to Grex with my athame and laid back.
The doctor moved the machine across as quickly as he dared apparently; so quickly the nurse objected:
"Doctor, we won't get any usable imagery if you don't keep the machine still!"
The doctor was no fool. "Nurse, she wasn't kidding."
The nurse said something very unprofessional, but nonetheless pitched in to keep one side of the machine stable as the doctor traversed it over me.
The doctor reached my head and the hum was about to get annoying when doctor Dimitri moved the machine out of the way and turned it off. "Alright, it looks like we have what we need. You can put your jewelry back on now."
I was getting to be an old pro at the jewelry thing. Getting far too much experience placing them in their proper holes blind; Grex didn't even help this time... much. I gave him a look and he nodded; he thought we were safe.
"So what's the verdict, doctor?"
The doctor was studying the screen I still couldn't see. "Well, you've got a nasty bump... and a crack. A small hairline fracture. The odd thing is you've only a little swelling, and your brain seems to be fine."
Well, that didn't sound like bad news. "What do you mean, my brain seems to be fine? Shouldn't it be, if my brain isn't leaking out of my ears?"
"Well, I'd have expected more impact trauma to be honest. Your cerebral spinal fluid being compressed from the impact and leaking from your ears perhaps, or some other effect. You show none of those signs of severity."
Again, that sounded like a good thing. "So I'm good? What about my other bones?"
"You have one small hairline fracture of your third rib on your right side and a slightly larger hairline fracture of your left ulna; both should be fine, and all three bones should heal with bed rest."
I did not like the sound of that. "How much bed rest?"
"Two weeks minimum; a month would be preferable."
Yeah, that wasn't going to work. But I wasn't going to do anything about it just yet; I needed to lay low at home for a day or two, and plan.
Because angel or demon, that guy blew up a warehouse to try and kill me; he was much stronger and much more crazy than I'd given him credit for.
"So I can go then? You'll sign off on it?"
Doctor Dimitri's face said he would gladly sign me out of his hospital inside the hour if I was half dead. A shame too; I had the feeling he'd be kind of fun outside of the hospital setting. Maybe it was the implied threat to his patients and staff friends?
"Not quite yet. The nurse will run a few more tests and I'll write you a prescription for the pain you're feeling, and then we'll send you on your way."
The nurse shot the doctor a look that screamed 'I have been thrown under the bus' as doctor Dimitri walked out. He didn't even glance back. Even if I looked like - well, hell - at the moment, usually I got a second glance. Maybe he was gay?
Oh well, I could afford to burn bridges; I didn't need friends outside of work, no matter how healthy for me that would be.
The nurse stabbed my arm at the joint with a needle. Unlike all my other pains, that one I felt clearly.
"Ow, damn. Digging for gold or something?"
The unnamed nurse had at least enough humanity to soften a little. "Sorry."
Just not much.
She took the full vial and stashed it, threw the needle away, and stuck a cotton ball to me with a band-aid.
"So, what's the blood work for?"
"To make sure you don't have any allergies to the painkillers... and to make sure you aren't on drugs. You know, the standard employment stuff."
It may be standard to test, but unlike a truck driver or stock person or even delivery driver, no summoner was going to get benched over drugs. Sent to the front maybe, but not benched.
The nurse did the standard EMT thing next, checking my reflexes (amazing, if I do say so myself), my eyes and ears with a flashlight, and my range of movement for pain. At least she was gentle to my suspect arm.
"I half expected an X-ray," I told her as she worked.
"I did too. The doctor decided the MRI would be more effective, and sufficient on it's own."
Oh, he did, did he? Was County poor now? And if they were, didn't MRI's cost more?
The nurse smiled, and her face lit up. "I think he just wanted to use the new and portable machine first." She seemed a bit more pleasant without doctor Dimitri in the room.
"Right," that made sense; who didn't like new toys? "So how screwed am I really?"
"Not at all, really. A concussion and some cracked bones is getting off lightly for your line of work."
Don't I know it.
"And now we're done. You can take off anytime; the front desk will have the paperwork you need to sign and the prescription for you, which will likely be good old fashioned Tylenol with a little extra. Do you have any more questions for me?"
Yeah, this was my last time coming here if I could help it; they seemed far too interested in kicking me out the door.
"No, but if I have any, can I call you?"
"Sure." The number she rattled off had to be from the hospital.
"No, not the hospital - I don't want to be shuffled around to people who don't know why I'm calling. I mean you, specifically."
The smile slid off her face and she took a glance at Grex, who was still standing quietly in the corner, as he had this entire time. "Sure," she said again. The number rattled off this time was different.
We walked through the door together with Grex behind me, and I saw it. The standard red sea parting among the hospital crowd, doctors, nurses, and patients alike. I'd seen it before of course, but this time it really bothered me; this was what we were getting hurt and killed for?
No, don't question it. They are just ignorant, and that slope is very slippery.
I input both numbers the nurse had given me into my phone, then made a call. By the time it connected the nurse had led me back to the ER waiting room. I signed my way out, waved at her, and strode through, trying to pick a route that didn't cause injured people to scramble out of the way. The silence was uncanny; I thought briefly of dismissing Grex, but it wouldn't likely wouldn't help.
Cords came through the door as I reached it.
"What are you doing here?" He was in the wrong hospital for visiting friends.
A hand reached to scratch his neck, his tell for embarrassment. "Early lunch. Are you alright?"
I hung up on the cab service; they probably would have refused me anyway. "I'll tell you about it on the ride home - if you'll take me home."
"Oh, sure thing! They released you? It couldn't have been that bad then."
Cords had parked close, one over from a handicapped spot. Lucky for him to get that. He pinged the electronic lock and I got in with a sigh. Grex got in behind me, actually using the door. I thought again of dismissing him, but I wasn't out of danger yet.
Cords got in and the doors locked. The sound seemed louder than normal, somehow. More immediate in a way.
"Grex, keep an eye out."
"Of course, my Mistress."
Cords gave Grex a nervous glance... Grex was sitting behind him after all. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably not," I replied. "but I believe in being prepared." The vehicle we were riding in was a standard ADTF transport, with all the standard protections.
"So... want to tell me what happened?" Cords asked.
"Sure." It would make the rounds anyway. I couldn't fault the curiosity either.
I gave him the brief run down on the way over, with Grex adding details I hadn't noticed. Cords let me talk but his hands creaked as they tightened on the wheel.
He didn't wreck us at least; we pulled into the parking lot; Cords rushed over and almost managed to beat Grex to my door. Grex insisted on helping me out. He also made a point to stand between us as we walked. Cords was pretending not to notice.
"So, a cracked rib, cracked arm, and cracked head, huh?" Cords finally said as we walked up the stairs. "That demon has a lot to answer for."
"Right, because all the deaths at his hands aren't enough," I stated as blandly as possible, trying to drive the silliness home. Demon or Angel, that being had a body count. There was no way he didn't.
Cords followed me through the lobby.
"Oh, you're coming up?"
"If you don't mind. I know you have Grex, but it's best to have someone there with you to make sure you don't get worse, with a concussion."
I had simply been planning to rely on Grex, it was true. After all, one type of danger was bleeding on the brain, and he was bound to do his best to protect me from it like any other danger by our contract.
On the other hand, it was Cords, finally agreeing to come up and see me rather than just hang out at work or go to the museum and listen to me talk about art.
"Sure. The more the merrier."
I had to fumble my keys unlocked the door of course, but soon enough I managed and headed straight for the couch. I was beginning to get a little stiff, and the pain was really starting to show up as a bone deep (heh) ache all over.
I needed those meds and should have stopped to get them.
Cords was spending his time looking around; he whistled. "Nice place, and larger than I imagined. Kind of reminds me of home."
"Oh, you own a house?" I did not know that; most ADTF members seemed to gravitate to apartments.
"Yep. It's a bit larger than this place, but I like it," Cords answered, pointedly not looking at my bookcase in favor of the prints I'd gotten to add a certain lived-in look to the place. "It's cozy. A nice place."
I settled on the couch with a sigh. "Grex, can you get me a bottle of water, please? Do you want anything, Cords?"
"No, I'm fine, thanks."
Hm. Maybe it was time to call in at the front desk. No, screw it; I was fine here. "Cords can you do me a favor?"
"For you, anything."
Somehow he made the line sound less corny; it was a trick I'd have to learn. "Can you please go down to the front desk and get them to fill this?" I asked, handing the prescription over. "I'd go myself but I really don't want to get up right now."
Cords took the paper. "I'll take care of it. You just sit tight, and don't fall sleep, at least until I get back, alright?"
I burrowed further into the couch, getting comfortable. Grex came back with a pillow and my comforter; he magicked the pillow under my head but just threw the comforter on me.
I hadn't realized I was cold until I was covered. "I won't."
"Are you sure? Because you look like you could at any moment."
"Pretty sure," I told him with my best smile while flicking on the television. True crime would keep me awake."
"Alright, I'll be back in five minutes."
As soon as the door shut, I turned to Grex. "You will let him back in. I won't tell you not to watch him or intervene if he tries anything, but you will not bar him entry."
I waited until he bowed his acquiescence before taking the water in his hand. "Good; I hope you can make sure my brain doesn't bleed or whatever it can do."
"I can. You need not fear."
Good to know that he didn't think I needed to fear... but I would anyway. I hoped the news didn't break in showing a gutted hospital and dead people.
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and flapping around outside my window. Good to know my apartment hadn't moved while I was asleep. Maybe it couldn't, now that I knew; maybe I was keeping it on Earth subconsciously. If so, that was a good thing.
There was steaming coffee by my bedside, and a plate of toast. The blinds were drawn to let the sunlight in, and after my eyes adjusted (which took longer than I liked) I could see the sparrows and pigeons squaring off against each other. The pigeons were winning of course.
I drank coffee and nibbled toast. I could hear Grex doing something in the kitchen, but I wasn't about to get up and check until the pain radiating from my head to my arm to my legs subsided. A little white pill would fix that problem, and the bottle was right there, so I took one and lay back.
When I woke up again, for the second time, the pigeons had won. and were cooing at each other and the toast and coffee were gone. But I felt like I could float over the pain, so I did... all the way to the couch, where Grex was waiting.
There was a full bowl of M&M's on the table. Or at least they looked like M&M's.
"Grex answer truthfully; are those normal M&M's?"
"They are indeed my Mistress. The meat-bag you call Cords delivered them from a local grocery store last night, along with some other things."
Right, Cords had been here. He'd left and come back, and we watched television.
I was still a little muzzy; of all the ways to get paid time off, this was the worst. I wanted to just go ahead and fix it, but that would be too suspicious. Suffering when you didn't have to sucked. I grabbed a handful of the M&M's and scarfed them down.
"More coffee Grex."
"Of course my Mistress." Grex flipped on the T.V. before he left. And of course, it was on the local news. And of course, the local news was covering yesterday's attack.
The news was covering it as if it was a demon attack, a sort of demonic landmine that I triggered which blew up the building; there are no more mines and no more danger, nothing to see here, move along. I doubted anyone believed that - that entire area would be avoided as much as possible, and people were probably already trying to sell their property along that street and failing. I wished them luck with that.
The news was making me look terrible of course; I should have seen the mine, and how was my training being conducted if I missed something like that, and were we truly safe on the streets, etc, etc.
The talking heads could raise all the fuss it wanted; the government wouldn't fire me. They couldn't in fact, we were too shorthanded. Besides I think that summoners had tried in the past to be useless in an effort to get drummed out... and all it had gotten them was sent to the front quicker.
Grex plunked the coffee down in front of me and changed the channel. Now there was a zombie on the screen, being piloted by a demon in order to kill a bunch of teens... as if the demon would bother or care. Well, unless he was very very bored.
I snagged a handful of M&M's.
A blink and the movie was over, and someone was knocking on the door. "Grex, the door."
"As you command, my Mistress."
Yellow flowers were pushed under my nose; I looked up to find a very nervous looking Cords holding them, vase and all. They did smell nice.
"Tulips, for you. Something to brighten this gloomy apartment."
Didn't Cords hate it here? Hate this entire building? "My apartment isn't gloomy! I just prefer darker colors. Thanks for the flowers, though."
Cords set the vase down on the table. "I just came by to see how you were doing before work."
"I'm fine. A little floaty from the meds, but fine. I should be okay here for now."
Cords shuffled his feet; it was almost cute. "Right. Call me if you need anything, alright? Don't hesitate, and I'll see what I can do."
Poor guy - he had it bad. the joke was on me there, though. I would not be following in my mother's footsteps, at all. But letting him know that was proving hard.
"If I need you I'll call. Thanks for the flowers."
"You're welcome. See you later, okay? I'll drop by after work if you don't mind."
I did mind; I wasn't helpless. But maybe I needed to socialize more outside of work. "Sure. I'll be here."
"Great."
The flowers looked nice on my coffee table... but I had to move them to see the T.V.
The next movie was one of the grade B aliens versus demon movies that seemed to roll around every few years; they always shared the same common theme; either the aliens wanted to invade and kill all humanity only to be stopped by the demons or the aliens joined us in our war against the demons and we won. This one was one of the first types, and the best that could be said about it was that it was amusing.
"Grex, fetch me the spellbook I was reading four days ago."
Grex sighed, but got up and retrieved the book from the shelf without complaint. I started in, reading more about how to cast lightning because who wouldn't want to be even more like Emperor Palpatine? I mean I was already wearing the bathrobe daily.
Not every summoner could cast magic, of course, it had to be in the contract. Most did try to bargain for it, but not everyone pulled it off; most found the price to be paid too high. But Karen had hers and I wanted to be able to match her; lightning did seem to be very effective against demons, for whatever reason, if past statistical data was anywhere near accurate.
Lightning seemed complicated; I had to take variables like barometric pressure and humidity into account before trying anything. If I didn't I could fry myself, and that would be embarrassing on top of potentially lethal.
I also needed to find a work around for carrying a sword in public. I was sick of fighting that guy with only an athame and speed. Registering a sword would cause some raised eyebrows, but finding a sword capable of standing up to something that could carve through a building like a Christmas roast was something else. Grex had one, I could always ask him where he got his... but I wanted to try and solve the problem myself if I could.
Besides Grex's sword was probably forged from the blood of innocents on an altar of the damned using the tears of sinners or something.
Then again, maybe I didn't need a blade. Maybe something more modern was the way to go. A souped up crossbow might be able to carry banishment seals or other payloads, and with my own talents, I could make the bolts fast enough to hit what I'm aiming at.
I'd been meaning to look into that, but I'd gotten sidetracked. Oh well, I had time now.
I grabbed my tablet as the phone rang. It was Karen.
"What's up, Karen?"
"I just had a follow-up question about the attack, for the report. Were you aware there were barrels of refined diesel stored in that warehouse?"
Uh... what? "No, I wasn't No one told me anything like that, and I'd just started my own search. Why, there was?"
Assuming she was talking about the big drum barrels of gasoline or diesel, those were hard to get. I hadn't seen anything like that written on the report, and if they had been there, they should have been collected as evidence long before I arrived. Had someone dropped a ball, or was something more sinister going on?
"Alright, well the investigation continues. The warehouse was basically a total loss; portions of it kept burning for a few hours due to the gas. So if you have any pics of your own to share that would be a great help."
"Sure, I'll forward what I have."
"Great, thanks."
As Karen hung up I pondered how badly burned I'd be by these turn of events. They certainly didn't look good for me; no I wouldn't be accused of setting the fire on purpose or blowing up the warehouse, there were enough witnesses and evidence to prove otherwise... but incompetence was harder to disprove.
And if I were Karen or the Chief, then I would definitely be looking twice. It wasn't even a question of incompetence really, just on whose part; either it was mine for not moving the fight realizing the diesel could go up, or it was CSI for not finding or moving it.
Whatever. They weren't going to fire me regardless, the worst it could be was a black mark.
Maybe it was petty of me, but I didn't want a black mark of any kind on my record. I wanted to join the police after my ten years if possible... not that I'd be ADTF if I did. Simple homicide was looking better and better. Maybe arson? I was bound to get a lot of experience with fires.
I could also work theft. Many a criminal would probably pee themselves if they knew a former summoner was working their case. For that matter, so would many a murderer.
It was too early to be making plans... I had to survive first. I grabbed my tablet again and started looking up crossbows.
Most of them were too small, too delicate, and made to fire things small enough to be considered darts. The ones best suited for my purpose were older models from the renaissance or middle ages. The absolute best was a design so old the original came from China; the repeating crossbow.
The problem was no one made a modern version. The best I could hope for is probably finding someone to modify a normal crossbow, so until that happened I was stuck. Maybe Cords would know someone? I really needed to expand my circle of friends... but it felt disingenious to make friends knowing my line of work. The angel had almost killed me, for all my power. When I was shipped out, the odds were against survival, for all my power. And making friends despite that, in true 'eat drink and be merry' fashion, felt irresponsible of people's feelings.
The doorbell rang.
"Grex, get that."
Grex got it; he opened the door and then I heard a scuffle. Was someone breaking in? And past Grex? If so, how?
All my short lived questions were answered when my Mother came down the hall like a shot, her yoga pants starting to work their way down and her sports bra about to pop. She skidded to a stop in front of the couch, placed perfectly to block my view of the television, knelt before me, and solemnly stated:
"You're in Hell."
"Usually. So are you; Hello Mother."
She blinked, then looked down at herself. "Perhaps I should have dressed better."
"Perhaps."
Slow measured steps from down the hall resolved themselves into my father, puffing furiously on a cigarette but otherwise showing no emotion. I knew how to read him, however, and saw the tension. I waved with my good hand.
"See Samantha, she's fine."
Mom reached out and poked me. "She's well enough to call. Why didn't you call, Maeve?"
Well, that explained what Mom was doing here. And Mom being here explained Dad.
What that didn't explain was why I didn't call. Why hadn't I called? I mean I knew Dad would be told my condition at the office, but I should have made the effort, and instead, it didn't even occur to me. I had an inkling, however; if I had called Mom and said I had been hurt, would she have understood what I was saying, or would she have been detached from reality again? My Mom wasn't exactly what you would call dependable.
"I'm not sure why I didn't call. I have no excuse, other than a taking a head injury. I'm sorry." Hopefully, that was good enough as excuses go - head injuries did odd things to people.
Dad nodded, but Mom poked me again... and then hugged me, hard.
"Ow, Mom, stop! You're aggravating something!"
She relented but slapped my leg. "Scoot over, I want to try your couch."
I scooted as best I could; I was a little stiff. Grex brought over a footrest and I switched over to it gratefully.
"So, what's broken?" Dad asked, sinking down into one of my plush chairs.
"Some ribs, my skull, and my arm. All hairline and not a big deal. No lasting tissue damage, just some cuts and bruising."
"How long are you down for?"
"Two to three weeks, probably." Yes, the doctor had said a month, but that was bullcrap. I could probably reverse time on myself and still heal faster.
"Good. So what are you doing then?"
I held up my book with my good hand. "Learning never stops."
Mom had see-sawed her head back and forth as though our conversation was a tennis match and she a spectator, but now she decided to chime in.
"Do you want me to kiss it better?"
I barely managed to stop the facepalm. "No Mother, that's quite alright."
Mother stared into my eyes, her gaze soulful. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure. I'm fine, Mom." I was a big girl now.
She settled back in beside me, but half draped herself on me. Luckily she avoided my hurt side.
"Grex, get some coffee for my parents. Standard rules apply; no special additives."
"Understood." Grex stated, bowing and heading toward the kitchen.
"I'm jealous," Mom said, watching him go. "I never had him so well trained. He was always... difficult."
"Don't be fooled," I replied. "It was a lot of work closing loopholes. My contract is a bit tighter than most though; he's on call 24/7 365, and my orders can layer until all loopholes are closed."
Mom's eyes sparkled - as an old hand, she knew what that meant. She snuck a glance at my book.
"Lightning, huh? I used to throw that stuff."
Sigh. "I know, Mom."
She couldn't do anything like that anymore. She couldn't even teach, though I wasn't sure why; it was a notation on her file.
I mean, I could guess; she WAS insane after all. She would probably tell fresh summoners they could fly, and escort them to the cliff to try it out. I put the book down; clearly, it upset her, at least a little.
Grex came back with the coffee, black for Dad, and cream and sugar (actual cream, since Mom was picky) for Mom.
Mom took a sip, sighed, and set the cup down... and then buried her head in my side.
"Mom, wounded here." I managed to get out. Was it too early to take another pill?
"Oh, sorry. I forgot. You're pretty comfortable though." Well, that tore it; she probably wasn't going to get up until Dad made her. But she did ease up a little, so that was something.
I looked over at Dad to find his mouth turned up in as near to a smirk as I've ever seen. So no help there, unless I appealed to his sense of duty.
"So, how's work?"
"Long and boring, lately," Dad replied, settling back and clearly signaling he wasn't going to help.
Still, it was curious. "Slow in homicide?"
Dad nodded gravely. "The regular troublemakers have all gone to ground for some reason, and the regular murders seem to be dropping lately."
Regular meaning jilted lovers, crazy stalkers that no one takes seriously until they go to town with a gun, or black widows.
"Odd."
Dad nodded again. "I think everyone is keeping their heads down due to recent events. Kind of good for business but...."
I knew what he wanted to say there; he wasn't sure if the cost was worth it. I couldn't blame him, I wasn't either. But the cost of saying it out loud and upsetting Mom was definitely not worth it. She was currently fascinated by the movie on television, but she would pay attention to us if we said one of her buzzwords.
....Was she sniffing me?
"I haven't showered, I know, calm down."
I didn't feel like standing in the shower; my legs ached more than a little.
"It's okay. You just smell different is all."
Whatever. I wasn't about to ask; I just shared a look with Dad.
We spent the movie in comfortable silence, but when it was over Dad stood up.
"Well, I got to get going. Lunch hour is over."
Lunch hour had been over for at least a half hour by any stretch of the imagination.
I nudged Mom a little... and she tightened her grip.
This time Dad was with me. "Come on Sam, we got to get going."
"Maeve can take me back when I'm ready to go."
I shook my head at her. "No, I can't. My car is either parked outside a shattered warehouse, or in police impound. So even if I were cleared to drive, something I'm not sure on, I can't do any driving."
"Poo, I knew I should have taken my own car." Mom pouted as she untangled herself and stood up.
Dad gave me the 'you can thank me later' look as he collected Mom.
For my part, I reclaimed my couch. "Have a good day, and drive safe."
Dad nodded as he dragged Mom out of sight. I heard the door close and turned to Grex. "Check it and make sure."
Grex nodded, and I waited for him to take the fourth step before I called out: "And more coffee, please! Standard rules apply!"
He shot me a dirty look as he returned to snag the cup. But vengeance for my family was vengeance, no matter how petty. Seeing Mom always made remember how much I owed Grex for.
Sometimes I was weak, and forgiveness was farther out of reach than the past.
The best part was when I didn't actually drink the coffee he brought back but kept reading. He settled in to watch the next movie, which was another demon themed thing. Something else for him to laugh through.
Mom had snuck half the bowl of M&M's when Dad and I weren't watching.
......
I hadn't expected to fall asleep again, but boring books were boring.
The knock on the door woke me. Grex stopped hovering and answered it. I could tell immediately from the tread that it was Cords - better than Karen, I guess.
"So, someone liked the M&M's."
"Yeah, my Mom. She was here earlier."
"Well, that sucks. I'm sad I missed her, she's... interesting."
He plunked down in the chair across from me with a sigh and grabbed a handful of the candies for himself. "It's okay, I have more. So, you never checked your tablet today."
Whoops. I bet Cords had been bored to tears. Wait, had anything happened today? "I fell asleep reading; did something happen today? Was there another attack?"
Cords waved that off. "No, nothing like that. In fact, it was the first real peaceful day in weeks; the raid at the warehouse at least made that summoner lay low. No, I sent you something I thought you might be interested in. If you want we can look over it now."
I didn't see my pad anywhere. "Grex, fetch me my pad please."
I was stiff now, and I wasn't about to move.
Grex went into the bedroom silently, found my pad, and brought it back; had I left it in the bedroom? I must have, right?
I didn't think I did. "Grex, were you using my pad?"
"No," he replied, but I could tell there was more there.
"Has anyone else been using my pad?"
"No," he replied again, with the exact same inflection.
It was clear he didn't want to say what was going on in mixed company. Cords for his part flashed Grex a very nasty smirk. Very odd, I thought Cords was afraid of Grex? Did he get over it that quickly? Even odder, Grex stayed silent about it.
Well as long as they weren't actively trying to kill each other, I didn't really care. I unlocked my tablet to find the message from Cords waiting for me, and time stamped for when I was asleep. Inside it were pictures. Pictures of the warehouse - the original walkthrough with evidence collection, before everything was taken out.
One of the shots clearly showed a lack of anything resembling gasoline barrels where Karen had told me she found the remains of several stacked. The others all showed stuff I hadn't seen yet.This was major.
"Isn't sending these to me illegal?"
Cords shrugged. "You're cleared to see them, so I thought why not?"
Translation: it was, and I wasn't just misremembering.
"Don't worry about it," Cords told me with a smile. "It's only illegal if you get caught. So, what does shot three show? I didn't recognize that symbol."
Shot three showed a shot of a glyph that acted as an appeal to a demon lord directly... usually used as a sort of suck up title to get a demon to grant the writer power. And the demon being addressed was the lord of lies himself; never let it be said our perpetrator didn't have an ego.
"An appeal for power from Lucifer himself; our perp thought pretty highly of himself."
Cords whistled. "Straight to the top, huh?"
It might explain much. "Well rogues are normally a solo lot; they don't work well with others. But this guy was strong enough to summon multiple demons and command them for weeks. Whatever appeal he made, it seemed to have been answered and then some. There was even some talk of this being the work of a small coven, but this evidence seems to support lone kook more."
Though how he got all this take out I was seeing in photo five was beyond me; from what I saw of him just five minutes in the open air would have had every concerned citizen calling the cops or us directly while running as quickly as they could in the other direction. So there was a support network somewhere.
The question was, how big and would they try anything? Could they spring him from maximum security? Could they hide him if they managed it? It must be hard to hide crazy, especially crazy with the rampant taste for Chinese this guy obviously had.
"What about this one?" Cords asked, bringing up another photo.
The picture was a good glamor shot of what looked like a silhouette of an angel... if angels were female. A succubus or eriynes? Under the silhouette (which appeared to be painted in blood) there was writing, and that was far less clear. I didn't recognize the language.
"I don't recognize that at all, or the writing."
"Well I do. The writing is German, kind of. 'Long live the queen'. I don't think it's referring to the queen of England."
I decided it was past time to get up. I suppressed the groan - mostly - and managed to get upright.
"You okay?" Cords asked with a wary eye; I was pretty sure he was plotting how he was going to catch me if I fell, which was silly. I hadn't staggered that much.
"I feel alright, just the full body bruise making itself known."
I snagged my notebook and started writing notes on the points of interest in each photo. Cords looked on.
"You know, I originally just sent you these so that you could clear your name." He finally said around photo fourteen.
"Maybe, but if the barrels just appeared there we need to know how. If someone was giving this summoner Chinese food while he was killing people we need to know who and why." This rabbit hole was much deeper than first appeared, and we needed to find the bottom.
"A good point," Cords admitted reluctantly. "But I don't think the summoner with a head injury should be the one doing the police work."
"Maybe, maybe not." I couldn't admit that I couldn't trust anyone else to do it; not even him.
I wanted to know the truth, the whole truth... I had a feeling these photos and files would be buried at management's earliest convenience. And it would probably be past my clearance, like the locked and warded file cabinet in the dungeon was. It might even be already since the writing here was German; anything dealing German summoners and German methods were usually classified as a matter of course.
There was probably good reason for that; as disgusting as these runes are (even removed from context) I could already see new ideas or possible new ways of doing things from them. Even knowing what they were it was dangerous... blasphemous. As if the architecture, the mere structure of the designs were changing how the world looked... or how I thought.
Cords caught my shudder. "Yeah, me too the first time. You get used to all the bodies... kind of."
I blinked; yes the bodies were bad, people caught, tied up so that they faced each other, and tortured slowly to death or sacrificed so that those next in line saw their own fate and the demon or demons could feed on their fear - but the geometry of those designs was nothing dreamed by mortal minds or painted by mortal hands. No wonder the summoner responsible was well beyond simply crazy.
But still, that was a lot of bodies, in various stages of deconstruction. Very bloody deconstruction. I was thankful my Dad had sort of immunized me to sights like this one... but it was still angering at a deep level.
"Have the victims been identified yet?"
"No. They are all... sort of mixed together with their fingerprints removed. The only hope right now is DNA, and that could take weeks."
Weeks without the families knowing their loved ones were dead... but they probably knew. I really hoped they didn't know how; this summoner and whoever supported him had much to answer for.
"I really want to find out who gave this scumbag Chinese food. A gulag would be too good for them."
Soviet gulags were notorious. It was literally the worst fate I could think of before death. After death was my fate of course, which matched that of the crazy summoner in our lockup, but it was more than I could hope for on those collaborators.
A few finger taps and the collage of photos settled themselves into a pieced together image of the entire room in miniature. Nothing immediately jumped out at me... but wait.
Why were there so many circles? Even with multiple summonings, there should be at most two or three; any summoner worth their salt would re-purpose and reuse a circle before making another one, just because it decreased the risk of making potentially lethal mistakes. But this warehouse had been just littered with circles.
Something which went contrary to the lone summoner vibe I was getting from all other sources. Had he really been just that crazy?
"You okay?" Cords asked. I realized I had been staring into space for a good minute or two.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just thinking."
"Yeah, well that's enough of that then, you should be recuperating rather than solving the mystery. So let's find something nice and mindless to do for awhile."
What? "We huh? Don't you need to get home? It's getting a bit late."
The way Cords shuffled around and scuffed his left foot against my floor like a little kid wasn't endearing at all, and I'd swear that in a court of law. "Well I thought I could stick around for a little while, and we could do something. Not like that! Just maybe watch a movie or something."
I stopped giving him the evil eye. "Fine, for a little while. But I'm not playing any board games. I've seen how those movies end."
"Yeah, no. No board games. No movie?"
"Not really feeling it, I've been stuck watching TV all day. How are you on racing games?"
"Bad. I don't play video games."
Well, he couldn't be better than me then. "Time to learn. Don't worry, I'm bad too. I just haven't had much time to play."
"Yeah, that kind of fits."
Now, what was that supposed to mean? Cords was trying pretty hard to stick both feet in his mouth tonight.
"What do you mean by that, Cords?"
"Oh nothing, it's just that you don't seem to do much outside of work. I keep asking, but you don't just hang out much outside of work."
"That's because you ask me to go bowling."
He mock glared. "Bowling is a perfectly acceptable sport! Besides, you're free to make a counter-offer."
Were we really doing this now? I booted up the game system more to buy time than play. "I know. But this... all of it even just hanging out with the cops, it just all feels slightly wrong, you know? As if it's all not quite real, and I'll wake up or something, and be me again. The old me. Does that make any sense?"
Cords didn't even miss a beat. "To me? Not at all. I can't know what you're going through. I can admit however that I like you. I've only known current you, and I like her. I'm willing to wait until you figure it out; the best things in life are worth waiting for."
Wow, he had met my gaze without a blink and he hadn't even stuttered the delivery; that was some top tier smoothness. So of course, it worked, and I fumbled up starting the game, twice.
"Thank you for that."
"Sure, no problem. I said it mainly so I could show up drunk off my ass at 4 am and smelling like cheap perfume and you'd still let me crash on your couch."
I couldn't stop the laugh. "If you do that before I'm healed, no jury in the world will convict me."
Cords grinned. "That's the spirit; now show me how this thing works."
For a computer expert, Cords was crap at games. I mean, I'd expected at least some competition on one of the games we played - but he wasn't. I wasn't God's gift (heh) to gaming by any standards, but I beat him at every game we tried. I would even have suspected him of throwing, if he wasn't equally as bad when fighting people online and clearly angry about the fact, though he showed none of it with me.
Even now the memory of last night was a nice one. Girls weren't good at video games, my snowy ass. I stretched carefully; there was less pain this morning, but everything felt tender.
Well, less pain everywhere but my head, but I could deal with it. As long as there was no blood or CSF on my pillow, and there wasn't, I was in good shape pain or not.
The television was on, and on the nature channel. "Grex, why are you here?"
"Your protection of course. Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Didn't I tell you to go home?" I could have sworn I had.
"No, you did not." Grex replied as I finally made it to the living room.
Well, that was clear - no room to twist the truth in that statement. "Fine."
It wasn't like it really mattered; Grex could stay out for a week by this point and it wouldn't drain me. But that wasn't the real concern; but while he was in a truthy mood...
"Did you do anything I wouldn't approve of last night, had I known about it?"
"I neither left the apartment nor took any action you would disapprove of. I stayed here in your apartment and watched television. I did pace, twice; exactly twenty-seven steps. I also took the liberty of making myself some tea. I trust you do not disapprove? You have not before."
"I do not disapprove."
Grex rose and swiftly moved, his hands supporting me, and I realized I'd been leaning against the doorway for a little too long.
Soon enough I found myself laying on the couch. This wouldn't do - I needed to get some exercise in before I went nuts. Maybe when the pain meds kicked in. Yeah, that sounded like a plan. I'd go jogging later, without swinging my arms.
"Wait, we didn't move last night, did we? We're still..."
Grex picked up the verbal ball I dropped. "On Earth, yes. Your will never wavered, even while you dreamed."
Good to know.
"Alight, go make me coffee and breakfast under the usual rules and stipulations."
I had no idea if an order like that would work, but I did know a nice ritual to test my food with.
Grex stared at me piercingly a moment, then shrugged. "You're getting lazy, my Mistress. See that you do not before others; I hear and obey."
Well, that was two parts ominous and one part creepy - a step up from the usual half and half.
"Right, I'll be less lazy when my head stops hurting." Now, why did I try to play for sympathy against a being that literally has none? My brain was more scrambled than I thought.
Breakfast came back, and I tested it while Grex looked approvingly on and declared me "Not entirely devoid of sense."
The food, drink, cutlery, and plates all came up devoid of contaminants or poisons of any kind, so I saluted Grex and downed the coffee.
Success, I didn't immediately die.
I changed the channel and smiled when Grex growled at me. He needed to learn all about the ancient aliens anyway, and that one dude with the wild hair was always funny. Demons were really aliens, indeed.
Soon enough Grex and I were both laughing. "This is what passes for scientific rigor among humans now?" He asked me.
I wiped tears from my eyes. "Only the stupid ones."
"So, I suppose I should take you to my spaceship then, take you for a ride to the outer planets, perhaps?"
That would be amazing. "You know, I'd like that. Can you pull it off?"
Grex pondered that a moment. "I could take you to an outer planet. That is if you wish to go. Such an effort would drain me, however, and your continued survival would be up to your own power; there are limits, even for our kind."
Well, that was out then, there was no way I'd survive a journey to those planets as a tender little human, even jumped up as I was. Cracking concrete with my head was one thing, but crushing interstellar forces were quite another thing to survive.
"I guess we better leave the vacation home on Saturn alone then, at least for now."
I was kind of tempted to abuse my power and see if I could glimpse the future; I already knew the past and future was off limits personally, as I could affect the flow of time but not the direction of it. But there had to be a way to manage to see the future.
"Hey, Grex."
Grex looked over from where the wild-haired guy was giving another 'maybe it was possible' example of ancient aliens being demons, the wide smile still on his face. "Yes, my Mistress?"
"Has anyone ever figured out how to read the future with our powers?"
Grex's smile slid from his face. "I wondered how long it would take you to ask; I must say I expected this question before now."
Great. "Glad to prove I'm an idiot. What's the answer?"
"The answer is no, none have been able to discern the future with our power thus far, though there have been no shortage of those who attempted the task."
Then there was a good chance my approach wouldn't work. Whatever approach that was. Leaving dilated notes to myself wouldn't work, for example, because time would only slow around the note after it was written; I could only change the flow, not the direction. The best I could do at the moment was speeding up my own reactions or stopping time completely. Perhaps a combination of the two? No, at best that would lead to post-cognition and not precognition.
Would post-cognition be worth it? Would it implode the world if I found out about something through writing myself a note rather than simple investigation? Would it cause a paradox somehow? Sometimes I hated my power; it sucked because trying to figure it out broke my brain. I guess it was a plus that I cared. Actually, come to think of it....
"Grex, why don't you do any of this? The things I'm thinking of; if you did the war would be over, reality itself would probably implode or the Earth would vanish or something; isn't that something you demons want?"
Grex sighed. "The end of all existence is not something we desire. We simply desire the death of humanity."
Right, the whole 'we hate you because God loves you' argument. Familiar ground between us, by this point. "You really need to stop holding us responsible for the mind of God and get over it."
Grex showed me his teeth. "You ask the impossible, Mistress. However, I will admit you are more... tolerable company than the pathetic poo-flinging primates you associate with."
I showed off my own teeth right back at him. "Gee, thanks."
Grex nodded gracious acceptance of my feelings. "Besides all that, most of us, myself included, don't do self-sacrifice. It is one of the many foreign ideas which fascinate us about humanity."
Good to know our capacity to suicide by demon surprised him; it certainly surprised me.
Well, whatever. I levered myself up carefully. "Time to be doing something then Let's go for a jog."
Grex replied immediately. "I do not think that is one of your better ideas, my Mistress."
His look alone told me how good an idea he thought it was. "It should be fine unless I ram my arm into a wall or something. I'm not going to sit here on the couch and let my butt go flabby; I worked too hard to get into shape."
Grex's answer was as dry as a desert breeze. "I think you can go without jogging a few weeks, follow your doctor's advice, and try not to aggravate your injuries. Unless you feel now is a good time to heal our way?"
It wasn't a good time for that, and he knew it. With Karen and Cords showing up here at least every other day, I had to appear as normal as possible. Well, as normal as possible for a summoner at any rate.
It was a bit off-putting that no one from my team had come to visit me, but I would survive.
I went into my bedroom to change, shutting the door in Grex's face. Putting on my jogging suit was a chore; normally I wouldn't even use the darn thing since a t-shirt and pants served well enough, but it was easier to just pull the jogging pants on with one arm.
The sports bra one-handed took far longer than I'd hoped, but I managed... mostly.
A little bit of jogging in place to test things, and I felt... weird. I opened the door to find Grex literally standing up as if he had been pressed against it and moved him out of the way. My debit card and my keys went into a pocket (Because of course who would buy a jogging suit without pockets?) and I was ready.
I made it as far as the lobby; my surroundings started spinning in a slow yet grand manner. The wonderful smell of specialty coffee drew me off my normal beaten path to the lobby shop; that was my story, and I was sticking to it. From the looks of things, Grex already knew anyway.
At least he didn't say anything more than: "Perhaps a walk?"
That actually sounded like a decent compromise; a walk did not pose the same risk of slamming my brain into my skull that jogging seemed to, or whatever was going on. More brain damage I did not need, I was already stupid and crazy enough.
I finished my coffee, threw away the empty, and was on my way. The outside air was clean and fresh, the birds were chirping, even the squirrels were up to their usual antics. I watched one get run over by morning traffic; there was undoubtedly a moral in there somewhere, but I'll be darned if I knew what it was.
The lack of robe made a difference; I got a few stares, but the public at large didn't exactly avoid me. At least some of those stares were lust filled unless I missed my guess, but I didn't hang around to check; I had nowhere to be at the speed of light and Grex probably did something to make sure the amorous minded didn't pursue. But then again, he wasn't getting many stares either, so maybe he was behaving himself.
The entire walk would have been better if I'd had a destination, but an hour of aimless walking was probably enough to keep me from falling apart at the seams. I wasn't about to try the normal army PT calisthenics anymore.
Then I realized I'd forgotten my phone, and headed back. The sun was bright and hot and I really should have put on some sunscreen; I knew that since boot camp I tended to burn instead of tan. Perhaps it wouldn't be that bad. Perhaps if I did burn, the burn would heal like everything else. I did not see any sign of my new nemesis, the demon angel.
Once back in the safety of my apartment I plopped on the couch. My phone had two missed calls and one text, and I sent back texts to assure my Mother, Father, and Cords that I was fine. As I finished that, my phone rang, and wonder of wonders, it was Sarah.
"Hey Snow, sorry about not checking in earlier but we've been busy here and Cords told us you were fine. How are you holding up?"
"Going stir crazy of course, but other than that and a little vertigo this morning I'm fine. How're things at the office? No one else on sick leave, are they?"
"Quit worrying, everything is fine. The Captain has us all busy patrolling and helping out with looking for professor Crazy's confederate, but no one else has gotten hurt since you. The cops injured in the explosion are mostly fine, minor injuries all around, and we haven't seen a demon since you were attacked."
"Professor Crazy?"
I could hear the half-hearted shrug over the phone. "That's what we nicknamed the perp we caught since he keeps raving in German or Polish or whatever. None of us can really make heads or tails of it, and that includes those of us who speak the language and the translators. We haven't been able to make an I.D."
"That's a shame. I forwarded my own thoughts to Karen, but I don't think I'm supposed to talk about them until I'm cleared by I/A."
"Yeah, don't worry about it, I just wanted to catch up and see how you were doing for myself. If I have time later, you mind if I stop by?"
Even better. "Not at all, I'll be here. Already got my exercise and now it's paid couch potato time."
"Lies," Sarah laughed. "you don't know how to relax. Alight got to go; no promises, but I'll try to show up later."
"I'll make coffee just in case. Talk to you later."
She hung up. And now we played the waiting game. The waiting and thinking game, while watching crazy television.
Where could a relatively sane and sane looking summoner accomplice go? If the subject was a summoner too, why had no new demons popped up? Sarah did offer me new information - there was no way the perp in custody had the presence of mind to tie his shoes, let alone mastermind anything like the attacks we had suffered; they were too neat, the timing too perfect. whoever had planned it had known how we did things at the ADTF.
I doubted we summoners had a mole, that just made no sense at all and would be too dangerous besides, but maybe a former ADTF, from here or another city? What could possibly be the motive? A former summoner, one whose contract had ended but still knew the rules? There weren't many of either, to be honest, and all of those that were still alive were on file; all former personnel were made to register upon the end of their 'career' and tracked until the end of their days. Knowing who was in town was only a few mouse clicks away on the secure work PC's.
It would have to wait in my case of course, and I had no doubt that others were already working this. This wasn't even my first time thinking it, and I was hardly a genius. But there was something else to consider; access files. I would be very interested to see the log of who has accessed those files recently, and if there were any deletions. There weren't supposed to be, but cops were kind of notoriously not tech-savvy.
Sometimes cliches were based on truth.
I wrote all my observations down... in code. No sense getting fired or worse for apolitical opinions. Then I got desperate for something to do again, something to take my mind off things.
"Grex, go get the board games."
We were on our second game of Monopoly when someone knocked on the door.While Grex went to answer the door I fought my temptation to tinker a bit with my board position. Things were not going well.
Cords was in the hallway, a handful of posies in one hand and a vase in the other.
"Monopoly? Really?"
I shrugged. "Not much else to do. Grex, make some coffee please."
Grex reversed course silently with a sour look on his face.
Cords didn't notice. "Heck with it, deal me in."
"I'm not sure I can just deal you into a game already in progress."
"Then call this one and start over, I want to play too."
Now that I could do. "Grex, you officially won game two!" I started resetting everything as he came back in.
"Thank you, Mistress," He called back.
"Hmm, you are the thimble and Grex is the car... I'll take the top hat then." Cords plunked the counter down.
There was another knock on the door. "Grex answer that please."
The new visitor was Sarah, who stopped short upon seeing Cords sitting on the couch."Cords? How did you get here so fast?"
Cords leaned back, nonchalant. "I broke a few traffic laws. How about you?"
Sarah's eyes narrowed as she smiled. Something was up. "Same here actually, but last I knew you hadn't clocked out when I left. Seems you still got it, or something."
"Something like that; I wasn't aware you were on your way here or I'd have offered you a ride. Well, that or bummed one; I'm all about saving gas money and the environment."
Sarah Shrugged. "Your loss. So, monopoly?"
I had to confess. "I know It's lame, but it seemed like the thing to do at the time."
"Deal me in, I'll take the shoe."
I fished the shoe out of the box and put it at the start while Cords counted out the money. Hey, if he wanted to play bank I wasn't going to argue; less work for me.
Grex came back and sat across from me on the floor, Cords took my right and Sarah pulled up a chair to my left. We rolled to see who would go first, and Cords won, which meant I'd be going second.
As he rolled I asked: "so anything new going on with the case?"
Sarah shook her head. "Not a thing since this morning; we're still looking for the accomplice. Oh, and Charles is back on the job, healed and ready to go, so that's something. Helps with the manpower crunch at least."
That was good news. "Any new demon attacks?"
Sarah shook her head. "Not a one; not even a sighting. Whoever the accomplice is they don't seem capable of summoning demons themselves for whatever reason."
"Probably doesn't have another base; it can't be easy for them to set up a place to murder a dozen people or more without anyone noticing, especially us. There was something off about that warehouse; hopefully, we can piece together what it was."
I felt the sting of rebuke there. "Sure, blame the victim for the explosion."
His indignant sputter was more than a little amusing.
"Snow, that was mean," Sarah chided, with the grin she sported hinting at her true feelings.
I was smiling, at least until Cords put a handout. "Pay up."
I'd just landed on one of his properties. One of the more expensive properties in the game.
That was pretty much how the game went; I would never be able to live out my dreams of being a real estate baron or a rich mogul. Not only did I not win, I came in last behind people who hadn't played Monopoly in years.
After my brutal smashing, I begged off any further embarrassment in favor of sleep and Grex happily kicked my guests out the door. Sarah eyed him on the way out and gave me the hand signs for summoning a demon; essentially telling me to de-summon him. She was probably right considering he'd been out all day. I did have to figure out what Grex's problem with me having company was.
"Alright Grex, clean up and then go back to your home; I'm just going to go to bed."
Grex bowed deeply in response, as he liked to do when others were watching. "As you command my mistress."
A little odd. More than a little odd really, but a quick check with all my senses revealed nothing and no one out of the ordinary. So the only audience Grex was playing to was me.
I snagged my water on the way, threw my stupid jogging suit (that I'd never changed out of) onto the floor and jumped into bed. By climbing in carefully, of course.
I'd just settled in when I realized something. If the summoner was in jail he was in a very public place. Would the wards put in place to stop demon attack stop an angel attack? Did the angel read the paper or watch local news? If the angel was as up to date on current human advancement as Grex was, then there could be trouble.
Words failed me for a moment as I shot upright, but I found them. "Grex, veni huc!"
Okay, enough was enough. After four days I was done with not being able to move or think properly; I wasn't spending another morning in bed with my head wrapped in cobwebs.
I sped up my own personal time. I really needed to ask about the side effects of doing this; I didn't want to be an octogenarian at twenty. But I hadn't seen any side effects yet.
My own healing, already high, shot up as I started experiencing a day per minute... but then I realized I would be experiencing a day a minute. The boredom would be real, and the power drain would be intense. Why had I thought this was a good idea, again?
Oh right, concussion.
Grex wasn't here; I couldn't sense him. "Grex, veni huc!"
Grex's gentle hands pushed me back into bed. "My mistress, you should not strain yourself."
It seemed Grex wanted to play games this morning. "That's exactly why I called you Grex. It occurred to me that in using my powers to speed up my healing, I would be experiencing time at a much faster pace and thereby not actually speeding anything at all."
Grex favored me with one of his more insufferable smirks. "Bored so soon, my mistress?"
I couldn't really deny it. "I might be a bit anxious to get back to work. Maybe."
"Well, there is a way to do what you wish with your power," Grex informed me. "And since it is personal, it devours less power than a stronger use of our abilities often does. You simply focus on the cells alone - speeding their own natural division and healing. With such a focus your own perception need not change, and there will be no evidence of the technique's use on your body."
That sounded promising. "Show me."
"Watch carefully, then." Grex said as he floated up, assumed the lotus position, then landed on my bed like a showoff.
However, he was also manipulating our shared ability in a very specific way, and watching carefully I could see it. I wasn't sure how I was seeing it since my vision did not extend into the microscopic, but saw I did. When I attempted to duplicate the feat, I felt the full body tingle immediately; it was very weird.
Grex nodded immediately. "It seems you are a natural at this. Perhaps we should step up your training and teach you the finer points of selective time manipulation."
Great, I'd be tearing apart all the existed in no time. "Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all."
Grex favored me with another smirk, this one smug.
Speeding up cell division without speeding up my own consciousness didn't make much sense... but then again I did reverse that a few times in order to see or sense more, and I didn't include my cells specifically into that mix. Maybe it had been part of the package and I hadn't known?
Or worse... maybe I had some control of the very concept of time and how it worked, and not the actual physics of it. Magic could be tricky. I really hoped that wasn't it, and I was doing something else because trying to wrap my head around that sort of thing would break my brain.
Grex kept his smirk up, almost as if he knew what I was thinking.
Either way, it worked, and the tingle soon gave way to a dreadful horrible itching in my wounded areas; even my scalp. Ants were crawling across my arm and ribs. I cut the power off in a hurry.
"Probably for the best my mistress. You should not appear fully healed too quickly."
I glared as best I could with one hand scratching my armpit and the other my head. "You didn't tell me it would have side effects. Especially not this one."
Grex shrugged but stopped smirking in favor of a more gentle smile. "It is natural; after all does your kind not itch as wounds heal?"
"And I'm healing faster, so more itching. Yes, I came to that conclusion almost immediately. That doesn't mean you shouldn't have mentioned how bad it would get. Will I need some anti-itch cream or what?"
"No, the sensation should cease momentarily. Shall I go make breakfast?"
I did seem to be thinking more clearly, the cobwebs dissolving. My arm didn't hurt as I moved it, and my ribs didn't hurt when I took a deep breath. I jogged in place a few steps - and realized that was a bad idea in silk pajamas and only silk pajamas.
Still, I felt I could jog, which was good news. Running, and especially running for distance, was something of a survival skill, and one should never fall out of practice on those.
Breakfast was waffles, judging from the smell. Toaster ones direct from the freezer. The coffee was bound to be more fresh. I gave my head one long last scratch and sat down at the table in time to be served.
"We're going jogging today."
Grex rolled an eye; just one. "Of course we are my mistress."
Two waffles slathered in syrup and a cup of coffee later, and it was time to go. Pulling my running clothes on (my normal ones, not that stupid jogging suit) was easy today, and while I felt a twinge in my ribs as my hands went over my head, it was nothing compared to yesterday and there were no stars or graying around my peripheral vision.
I grabbed my phone and debit card and jogged my way out. "Lock up behind me Grex, and follow."
I dodged a few other summoners, getting out and about and going to work. Oh hey, there's Charlie; the other Charlie, not the hurt one. I dodged around him with a wave and took the stairs - one at a time, I wasn't stupid.
I wonder if I could go to work today; would I get sent home if I showed up, like a middle schooler?
I had some questions to ask the loon we picked up before the angel or his handler showed and offed him. I had no doubt that the angel would be stupid enough to attack, and I still needed to ask about or go over the defenses again.
Maybe everyone would be too busy to worry about little old me for a day. Honestly if felt that such a thing hadn't happened yet, but everything couldn't actually be revolving around me - could it?
Nah, that was just arrogance and paranoia combining.
I did my normal route, for the most part. Well, my normal route when off work and not late to go to said work, which to be fair was a bit too often lately. I stopped when my ribs started stiffening up and walked the rest of the distance; Grex matched my pace without any effort the entire time of course.
A long walk back and I'd burned off all the calories I'd eaten, as well as a few extra. Which may not be a good thing with the thing I'd done with my cells earlier. Whatever, I could stand to lose a pound or two, and I wasn't collapsing.
By the time I got back to my apartment building it was close enough to lunch time to seriously consider it. I debated and got a quick sandwich and some chips from the coffee shop before heading up, letting myself in, and taking my now much-needed shower.
I had just dried my hair and sat down to eat when my phone rang. "Hello?"
"Did I wake you up?" Cords asked from the other end.
"No, I felt better so I was out getting a little exercise and a black forest ham with pepper jack. Anything new going on at work?"
"Not a thing. No new attacks, it's a bit early for it, but people are beginning to stand down just a little bit."
Cords wasn't wrong, it was a bit too early for that. Then again, before I got hurt I was getting tired of all the shifts I was pulling too.
"I can understand that, but they shouldn't get complacent."
"No no no, nothing like that," Cords assured me. "Just officially stand down. People around here are just as paranoid as ever."
Oh, that was different then. "How's the watch on the prisoner?"
"As tight as ever; almost a full squad with a summoner in support, and a bunch of blues."
"Good," I muttered into the phone even as the hamster wheel stopped turning. There was no way I would be able to sneak past all that; if I was on a list or something I wouldn't get let in, and either way, my presence and visit would be noted.
But perhaps I was attacking this from the wrong side - maybe I didn't need to attack it at all.
"Cords can you do me a favor?"
"It depends on what it is." Cords replied, his voice a little wary.
"Can you check and tell me if I'm barred from interrogating our prisoner? I'd really like to ask him some questions, but I'd rather not piss off any of the higher-ups."
Cord's voice fairly bristled with relief. "Oh sure, that I can do. In fact, I can do it right now; let's see...."
I heard him clacking away in the background for a moment. I idly wondered how bored he was, that he would get right to it. I didn't hear a show in the background, not even Top Gear. I guess it could be paused, but even then....
"Alright, it looks like no one is actually barred from interrogating our prisoner, and several summoners and more professional types have, only to be met with silence. I actually have a not here from Karen stating she wants to see the guy's reaction to you, so my guess is you'd be good to go - if you weren't hurt and on sick leave right now."
Urk. That last part did not sound happy. "Right, I'm not doing anything right now; just chilling out with my lunch. After that, I'll probably nap or something."
I heard a door open on the other end of the line. I imagined him swiveling his chair in the office and holding up a finger. "Good. Anyway, I've got to go; duty calls. I just wanted to check in and see how you felt. Don't do anything I wouldn't."
That tired old joke. "I won't. Have a good day at work," I told him as he hung up. After all, he totally would go behind my back and interview the crazy guy. Or anyone else's back for that matter - I think I had his character pegged. Or maybe I was projecting. It was fine if I was projecting.
I wondered how I rated an interview with the crazy guy; it wasn't my specialty and I was still inexperienced. But it didn't sound as if they were limiting access and maybe everyone got a turn or something. I know my Dad would probably be screaming, were it his jurisdiction. Maybe I'd tell him about it after I did my thing, just to see the reaction; it would be amusing.
It still felt wrong somehow.
I threw a robe on over my jeans; Grex knew me well, he was already heading for the door.
"No fear of getting in trouble, let's go figure out what's going on."
"No fear of any trouble on my part, my mistress." He replied with one of his grins.
I was half tempted to walk, but I really didn't want to be noticed by any stray winged people who may or may not be in the clouds, so I decided on my car instead. Of course, it wasn't really any less obvious, but it might be to someone not an actual part of humanity.
Then again the wards could shine like a beacon to an angel, for all I knew. At least it was fast.
Once down the stairs, I detoured to the coffee shop. The barista saw me coming and put my usual on the counter just as I arrived, ringing me up wordlessly. I gave him a tip for that.
No sword came from the heavens came and pierced my car hood came as I pulled out. The expected sword didn't come as I wound my way carefully through the busy streets either; I made it all the way to the underground parking garage.
The uniform guarding the garage gave me the mother of all funny looks though. Did he know I was on sick leave? Wait, if some of the usual crowd saw me walking around here, would that mean I'd have to go back to work? I really didn't think this through.
I forged ahead regardless, my faithful demon right behind me. It was now after lunch, so the garage and entrance I was using was near deserted; most of my co-workers had eaten by now and were back at work. The few rushing to and fro or pretending to be busy didn't even give me more than a glance, which was bad operational security; I felt I should be calling them out on it. At least the two uniforms set to watch the garage side holding cell entrance were present and accounted for; I lowered my hood and they waved me through; I guess Grex and my skin color made a good enough ID.
The holding cells weren't segregated, which also seemed a little odd; who would want to put a summoner, even one too out of their mind to do much, into a general population cell? Even without the tools to start with, I could probably bust my way out inside of twenty minutes, without Grex. At least, unless I was gagged and had my hands cuffed while in the cell.
The man in question, however, was alone in a cell. The cells next to him were full, but not a single toe on either side was closer to the summoner's cell than halfway, even though both of those cells were standing room only as a result.
He had been cleaned up a little; his beard had been trimmed and his clothes changed to neon orange, trimmed with red. a slight difference from the standard to indicate extreme danger. He looked dangerously thin and the lunch in his cell was sitting on the floor, untouched. Part of that at least might be due to the fact that his fingers were still restrained to each other with the restraining gloves and his hands were still cuffed. There was a gag in his mouth too, a collar locked around his neck with a chain hanging from it, and ankle chains around the feet. He was busy shuffling around as best he could with his face aimed upwards, making random sounds.
The cells became even smaller as everyone shrank back from Grex and myself, which was a little amusing. My target looked down, directly at me, and stilled completely. The cell was one of the old kind, required a key, which made perfect sense because electronic locks were too delicate, even with a backup power supply.
Unfortunately, I had no key and I wasn't about to wave to the camera while picking the lock. So I had to go find the uniform with the keys since I wasn't about to ask my questions here with so many prying ears; that would just be stupid.
Right, curiosity sated, we were keeping him in one of the standard lock-ups but with standard precautions and cameras trained on him. So I went down the hall, the silence rippling among the cells as I was spotted, almost like ripples in the water when you drop a stone in.
"Hey summoner chick, how about you let me out of here so we can get to know each other!" Well, almost. There was always one.
"No Grex, you can't kill him."
Grex lifted an eyebrow at me; I could feel it. Without orders he wouldn't do anything of the sort no matter what the prisoner did - but the prisoner didn't know that.
"Summoner babe, it's worth it if he does, as long as you keep walking way like that! Roll that big ole booty!"
Wow, that prisoner had some balls.
I ignored him in favor of the door; the watch Sargeant was on the other side busily hen pecking away at the ancient computer on his battered desk.
"Sargeant; I'd like to talk to one of your prisoners."
He turned and half jumped over his desk at the same time. "Jesus, don't DO that!"
What did I do? ...Oh. Whoops. "Sorry Sargeant, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."
The Sargeant sighed and waved it off. "Never mind, I should be used to it by now. You lot can't seem to just use the door or make noise. The crazy in cell seven, right?"
I nodded.
"Right, I'll have someone escort you back and lead you to the interview room we have set up. Dennis, front and center!"
A young uniform all but sprinted up; he was dressed in full riot gear complete with a face hiding helmet and a cold forged iron knife - but he wasn't ADTF. In fact, he looked to be fresh out of the academy.
"Sir!"
The Sargeant threw the keys at young Dennis; to his credit, he caught them before they bounced off his chest.
"Snow needs the crazy; interview room two."
Young Dennis actually saluted. "Yes, sir."
I let him lead the way; had I leaked water from behind my ears like that? I had always been at least a little more world wise than this guy seemed, right?
The ballsy prisoner was silent this time through.
"So Ma'am... your turn with the prisoner?"
"Yep."
"Not to pry, but... weren't you injured in the line of duty almost a week ago?"
"Yep. I got better." The crazy, as the cops had dubbed him, was shuffling around and muttering again, face to the ceiling. He stopped and dropped his head to face me as soon as I got within thirty feet. The muttering cut off as if I (or someone else) had shouted at him.
"Let me guess? Clean living?"
Okay, maybe Dennis wasn't as new as I took him for. "Exactly."
Dennis matched my smile with his own before making the effort to wipe his face clean as he stepped up to the cell and put key to lock. "Alright, look sharp, Game time."
"Of course. Grex, if our prisoner tries anything I would not approve of, break as many bones in his body as you can without killing him."
Dennis shuddered as Grex took on his predatory cast. "As you command, mistress."
The crazy didn't so much as twitch, and his eyes never left me; was Grex losing his touch? I wasn't even the dangerous one. Of course for my part my eyes never left him; even caged summoners who had been strip-searched sometimes still had a surprise or two.
I stepped past Dennis, who seemed to be frozen at the door, and snagged the loose chain around the old man's collar; a gentle tug had him following me like a dog. A small dog who was wary of the newspaper or foot. Grex fell in behind the old man, uncomfortably close by any standard, looming over him with all his teeth visible. The old man never so much as glanced his way.
Dennis shook himself and shut the door, stepping quickly to bring up the rear. The prisoners remained silent and edged as far away from us as they could manage.
I managed to find the proper interview room without my 'escorts' help and opened the door. It was a normal door for the building, pressed wood with a window set in the upper half, but there the similarity ended.
The visible wards were promising, as was the fact that I could feel the dampening effect on my power the moment I entered. There was a table and two chairs, all made of heavy wood chased in iron and bolted to the floor, and every single tile on the floor and ceiling were circles of abjuration or power repudiation. The walls were coated in gleaming silver circles, one each, and each had the purpose of halting a type of element.
This place was safer than my house and more scary. Even Grex paused before following me in, and small wonder; stepping into the room felt like going blind and deaf. I doubted I'd be able to use my tricks here, but that was fine. If I couldn't, chances are no one else could.
I led the old guy to a chair and set him in it, running the chain through the bolt hole in the floor. No lock was needed, I simply looped it and latched it to a hook set further down for the purpose.
Grex stopped me. "Sit down my mistress, I'll handle the rest."
"I'll just... wait outside. Let me know if you need me." Dennis stammered out before gently shutting the door.
The rest was apparently removing the gag and wrapping arms around his shoulders, which Grex did. He also breathed as raggedly as possible into the guys left ear.
The old man was silent and unmoving, his eyes still on me.
"What's your name?" I asked. Something in me knew he would answer.
"Fritz." The accent was vaguely German. The name was bull.
"Bullshit."
"It was not always so," the old madman admitted. "But that is my name, august Lady."
Something in the way he said that... and august Lady? What was that about? No, he was talking, and I needed to keep that happening.
"And what are you doing here, Fritz? What brings you to my city?"
The old man started to lean forward, and Grex's nails dug in, just a little; he took the hint and stopped, but still responded.
"I am summoning demons at the request of my dark master, august Lady."
Right. "And who is your dark master?"
This time he showed some emotion; sardonic disbelief. "You know well who my dark master is, august Lady."
He had a point. There couldn't be that many dark masters out there, so he had to mean a demon; it was commonly known that German summoners were basically second fiddle to the demons they had summoned and unleashed. I was inclined to believe his dark master was high up as demons judged things. The title all but sealed the deal there for me, and the fact that he knew I could warrant one was troubling. How did he know who I was? No, focus. Get the answers to the important things first, as short and direct as possible.
"Did you have any friends helping you summon your demons?"
The old man shook his head. "No, I did all the summonings at the behest of my dark master; he alone offered assistance in that matter."
Why would any demon that strong need a human to do their dirty work in that regard? "How many demons did you summon?"
"Eleven, august Lady."
So all of them; all of the ones that had plagued us the last few months. "To the best of your knowledge, were any other demons summoned by groups other than your own and the ADTF?"
"No, august Lady."
I kind of expected his voice to give out by now, but it was still strong. He hadn't asked for anything yet either, not even a glass of water. So it was time to ask the million dollar question.
"Why did you and your dark master summon these demons?"
"To test you, August Lady."
I, wait, what? "Test me? Me specifically? And test me how?"
"Yes to test you. Yes, you specifically. To test your abilities and power. Should you be unworthy, you would not survive, august Lady. That you have is proof positive of your identity."
So some asshole had summoned multiple demons, endangering life and limb, in order to have them fight or test me and me alone. The mind boggled; this guy came off sounding cultured and urbane for all his looks, but he was absolutely insane. "How do you even know me?"
"My dark master informed me of course, august Lady."
Alright, bull. If I asked this guy, there was a chance his head could explode, but if I didn't ask I'd never know for sure; I decided to chance it.
"And just who, once and for all, is your dark master? Answer me with a given name."
The reply was as dry as the desert outside the city: "My dark master is none other than Lucifer himself, august Lady."
It was a good thing I was sitting down. The big guy, the capital L, working actively in my home city. Even worse, an active interest in me? I was beyond screwed.
"Why would... that demon have an interest in me?" There were many superstitions left over from the old world; one of which was 'speak the name of the devil, and he will appear'. I did not feel like tempting fate.
"I do not know, my dark master did not see fit to tell me."
A valid point. I wanted another. "Why are you telling me all this then? Don't you fear his retribution?"
The old man leaned back, and Grex eased up a little. I pretended not to see the spots of blood. "My dark master ordered me too, of course. But I fear nothing; I have the assurance of a known fate."
Well at least he didn't say a bright one.
"Why would he want me to know?"
"I'm sure I don't know. I was not informed, and did not ask."
So the big L was after me, testing me specifically, and wanted me to know. I was so far beyond screwed it was actually funny. At least some of the times that Grex had danced around the questions I'd been asking him were starting to make sense now. He couldn't kill me directly, but he did answer to a higher master, and that master had some sort of interest. I needed to find out why in a hurry.
"Did your dark master have any other operations like the one you were involved in? Any other cells like you, ready to pick up where you left off?"
"No," the old man replied. "I was to be your test, along with those I summoned, august Lady."
Okay, that was getting on my nerves. I fought for control and won, calming. "Why do you keep calling me that? August Lady?"
The old man smiled. Smiled! "You are a Lord of Hell yourself, august Lady, and it would not do to be disrespectful of one's betters. Especially in light of whom I serve."
Lucifer was an incurable gossip, it seemed.
A knock sounded on the door; that was fast. It seemed our time was at an end, and the old man knew it. I gestured to Grex, and he replaced the gag while I got up and answered the door.
Karen was there, looking vaguely pissed. She swept in without so much as a glance at the old guy and stopped, folding her arms. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"
I couldn't help it. There was no way the higher up and whoever else hadn't been watching the cameras.
"I'm beginning to get an idea," I deadpanned back at her. "Care to tell me exactly how bad it is?"
"Well, here while on medical leave and interrogating a prisoner without permission, for starters. What were you thinking?"
"Well, I was thinking I was better and could maybe get back to work, and since no one else had gotten this guy to crack...." Said guy was now drooling and muttering again, his eyes unfocused and gazing heavenward.
That was the first time he'd taken his eyes from me while I was actually around, and I found that more unsettling than his gaze.
Wait a minute. "Also, what do you mean I wasn't on the list. I most definitely was, the desk Sargeant didn't say anything."
Karen stopped cold. "Really? We normally restrict access. People not on the list don't get in, period. There should have only been three people on that list, since humans are more dangerous than demons anyway, and you shouldn't have been on it at all."
"Well again, the desk Sargeant didn't say anything, and neither did anyone else. How much did you see?"
"I saw enough," Karen admitted. "The big L huh? I wouldn't worry about it, chances are this waste of skin is just making the whole thing up. It wouldn't be the first time a rogue had made up some BS story in order to start crap or sow dissension."
Except none of the other summoners had been called 'august Lady' or even talked to, Karen included.
Karen pinched her nose. "Look, Snow, I can appreciate a certain level of motivation from any of us, and so can the chief. But I was telling you stuff about the case to avoid something like this; I was hoping if you knew how things were going you'd resist the urge to dabble and just heal; something you actually need to do."
Well, I couldn't deny that. I just didn't need to heal as much as other people thought, not that anyone needed to know that.
Karen's face hardened. "However we need to get to the bottom of this. Depending on just what happened, you aren't in any trouble here. Well, not much anyway... but someone is. Come on, let's ditch that guy in holding and go.
I turned around and liberated the chain; Grex let the old guy up s soon as I backed off to the chain's maximum range. Karen held the door.
The desk Sargeant was not the same man who let me in; this one was perhaps fifty pounds lighter and a few inches taller with a buzz cut and wore an ill-fitting, baggy uniform that seemed made for a man with shorter arms.
When the shot rang out, I was already moving and dilating time; it missed me. The yank of the chain told me the truth; I hadn't been the target.
The old man was down, a bullet cleanly through his forehead. Knew his fate indeed.
I turned to the source of the shot, continuing to speed up even as I noted the new desk Sargeant raising his own pistol, which in no way resembled a police sidearm. A man dressed in armor that seemed made partly from SWAT gear and partly from scrap with a partially silenced submachine gun that he was still firing.
I followed through and finished my own motion, shoulder checking the shooter and putting my athame through his hand; his scream was long and drawn out, attenuated.
"What's going on?!?" Karen asked, her words almost too distorted to parse.
I tried to slow down my response as Grex fell upon the desk imposter, taking in the movement around us. "We're under attack."
"Attack?" Karen rolled out of the interrogation room, lightning crackling in search of a target. For the moment she was denied, as my new friend was out of the fight and cuffed.
Grex's friend the fake desk Sargeant made me regret not being more specific about the condition I wanted him in. Not too much, as clearly he was a murderer, but trials were a thing.
The sound of a slide clearing ever so slowly had both Grex and I moving again; the sound had come from the cells.
I almost beat Grex there before I slowed down. "Try and keep them alive and in one piece Grex."
"Understood." His answer was just a bit slow to me. He had to be sandbagging.
Not that it really mattered. Soon there was shouting, all of which was too slowed down for me to understand, and pops still recognizable as gunfire.
There were still screams too.
Karen was just getting up as I flowed through the door, staying low. Some of the prisoners were dead; our attackers didn't seem to care just where they aimed as Grex tore into them. Two people in mismatched armor both with sub-machine guns (Some uzi knockoff?) were in the hallway between the cells. One was currently in the process of emptying theirs, and the other was doing their best pretzel impersonation under Grex's gentle hands.
I winced but Grex moved again before I could do more, taking the bullets heading down the hall like a champ. I leaned down to check the first gunman, beginning to feel the strain of keeping time flowing faster. Or maybe that was my injury; normally this much wouldn't be a problem.
The man had two broken arms. Broken as in, both the bones in each arm were broken multiple times. His hands didn't look quite right either, but there was no doubt he was out of the fight. Well, unless he could stand up without arms and then kick us unconscious. His gun was in pieces, so that was a plus.
I slowed down a bit; not being able to understand the words other people were shouting was more than a little annoying, and Grex seemed to have everything under control.
"Snow, what's going on?" Karen asked; she still hadn't cleared the interrogation block.
"More gunmen. Some of the prisoners got hit."
Grex had broken the arms of the second gunman but I could still hear gunfire.
"Can you get a call out? We seem to be under a full attack here."
"Trying, lines in here are cut and my cell isn't working."
Grex was heading to the garage. To back him up or call for backup?
My own cell wasn't working either, so that cut my options. I moved to the garage doorway, ignoring the prisoners; I couldn't help them anyway. This time in order to sneak a glance I got on the floor and rolled across.
There were multiple gunmen, some using the cheap sub-machine guns like the ones Grex had disabled, while others were using m4's. Which was more than a little worrying, because only SWAT or ADTF were as well armed as these guys.
Who had bankrolled them? They were clearly an organized group. I hesitated to say ex-military, but there was clearly some training involved.
Grex was mowing through them, he already had another down, but they weren't panicking at seeing the dark blur in their midst.
"Take this, demon!" was easy to decipher, but what was the point of throwing water?
Either way, it missed, and Grex was on his way to dismantle the source. When said source dumped the water on himself rather than panic, I shook my head. The wrong move, even if that stuff was holy water.
At least it marked out who the group was, as clear as day. The name wasn't even important anymore.
"Karen! Fanatics with guns!"
"Perfect, just what I need to make my day complete!" She snarked back. "Phones are down, all cut or jammed!"
"I count four in the garage, three active."
Karen finally crouched into position behind me, with Thor right behind her. She promptly risked a glance of her own.
"Well, shit. This is pretty bad timing all around, isn't it?"
I couldn't help but agree. "Yep; looks like Grex can mop it up on his own well enough."
Karen nodded. "The smart thing to do would be to let him do his thing. The fanatics never did find a way to fight demons; rather ironic in a way."
If they had I could be in college right now, learning calculus or forensics and racking up thousands in debt. That sounded like a much better use of my time, to be honest.
"I hate to say it, but I think there are probably more of them." I tried to control my anger. More fanatics meant more dead cops and possibly dead civilians. My people, now. I couldn't be sure with all the echoing in the garage, but I thought I heard more gunfire from outside.
There was also the very real question of why no uniforms had responded to the gunfire in the basement; it wasn't as if the garage entrance was the only one. There was probably a distraction in effect somewhere, and any distraction these loons made was going to be violent.
Grex strode back into view, giving the all clear, just a few specks of blood marring his suit. "All who would attack you are crippled, as you requested Mistress."
"Great. Did you hear any of them outside?"
"Several my Mistress."
Right, he wouldn't volunteer, that would leave me vulnerable.
"I must say, hearing you two talk like chipmunks on speed never gets old," Karen informed us.
Such was the insight from my older and far more experienced superior on the police force.
"Shouldn't you be taking charge right about now? I mean, I'm off duty here, officially, and you outrank me besides."
Karen rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll do it. Thor, you're up."
I briefly wondered what it said about us that we were willing to effectively release demons on our fellow man just because our lives were in danger. Parallels could be drawn there; parallels I did not like one bit. At least Grex hadn't killed anyone except to defend my life. True, anyone he had attacked since the first guy wouldn't be playing concert piano again, but they were alive.
What Karen did was up to Karen; she was a big girl and could manage her own sins.
Ugh, I didn't want to do this; demons were one thing, but hurting or killing humans, even idiotic humans that were killing other humans, just wasn't something I wanted to do. But if I didn't, and more civilians died as a result of armed fanatics while I did nothing... well I couldn't live with that either.
I pointed and Grex led the way. "You should summon the twins."
"Why?" We could handle a few terrorists, even if they had bombs. Speeding up one's own time made it possible to race an explosion or two... in theory. If I had warning. I was confident I'd survive better than the regulars at any rate. Another concern was there were few summoners in the building itself, usually all but one would be on patrol.
Outside there were several more gunman, thankfully dressed less like cops and less well armed. That didn't stop them from being every bit as enthusiastic.
Any person they saw, they shot at. In between the shots were yells such as "Such are the wages of sin." and "Demon's whore."
The latter aimed at Karen of course, who was bunkered down and shutting the reinforced garage blast door, letting Thor do all the work. Luckily their aim was trash; all the shots went into the wall.
There was a priest out there, gun in hand, shouting loudly to 'smite the evil'. Thor seemed to take a little longer electrocuting him then the first couple of gunmen, but maybe that was my imagination.
Except it wasn't; I had some mastery of time after all. The remaining gunmen didn't waste time, and instead took cover where they could, not that it would help them much. Cars and buses were conductive after all.
What could help them was the blade which came down like an edged hammer of God and smote Thor out of the air, burying itself into the concrete sidewalk right mere inches from the fallen priest.
Karen screamed; I had to snag her before she rushed out. Early retirement would agree with her more than death.
"Grex, you were right. Move. Abnex, Sarex, Veni huc!"
The twins materialized to either side of me, facing away and with their weapons already out.
"About time," Abnex said.
"We've been keeping tabs on you, mistress," Sarex continued.
I didn't waste time. "The one who injured me is out there. Find them and stop them. Disable them if you can."
I didn't want to give the next escalation of that order. While I didn't want to just say what the thing opposing us was, that was a far cry from killing or destroying it or whatever would happen.
"God is with us! Forward, kill the heretics and false defenders!"
"Got it," the twins chorused and moved as one, spiraling out of the half-closed garage drop door as if it was an open window, they fell on the angel as he landed to retrieve his sword. Grex came flashing in from the other side in what had to be a coordinated strike.
Three blades moving faster than anything had a right to swept in - and only hit each other as the angel swept up again, sword in hand.
Over the din, I heard the angel's voice clearly. "Good. I had hoped that was you I had seen arrive. One more to send to Hell."
He was looking at Grex, but he was talking about me; I just knew it. Had he staked out the fanatics? Or riled them up and led them here... and waited for me to show?
I didn't like either of those options.
With the angel distracted at least, I could do something about the gunmen surging back towards us. The covering fire was going to be a problem, however, even as fast as I was moving.
"Karen, I need your help here. I need you to recall Thor, and use him to protect us."
Thor was missing a wing and in an obviously bad way, but he was moving at least a little bit and that would be enough. Probably anyway - there was something going on with how he was moving, how slow and careful he was being and how every few seconds he twitched that did not inspire me to great confidence.
Karen nevertheless recalled him, and sitting in front of us he at least looked imposing. Despite the hit he'd taken, I doubted the rank and file gunmen could finish the job; if they had something capable of it, they would have used it already. If they were the normal fanatic, their only target was us.
Karen was safe at least. I started dialing my speed up again - and used that extra speed to remove and pocket two earrings. The rush of power was welcome. I looked up to find the world almost still - and my three demons staring at me.
Oh, there was a light show. Great.
The angel wasn't too far behind in looking right at me, but my team had already gone eyes front and was keeping him busy. How exactly he was managing to look away for a second and survive that against three demons who were moving so fast was beyond me, but he was.
At least he had a few cuts; he wasn't invincible. It was just going to take a bit more than he was facing right now. Of course to my eyes, he looked to be bleeding light. I wondered what Karen or any fellow summoners would make of that; it certainly wasn't the blood, ichor, or ash demons customarily bled.
Joining that mess was risky; I'd be targeted the moment I was in range. What could I really bring to that fight? How could I help? I was still light on attack magic, and I didn't have a sword. I'd only been in melee range before because there was no choice... but maybe with earrings off it would be different? I drew my athame.
My first strike was launched straight in between my three demons and took many of the properties of a drive-by. I almost had the blade torn from my hands as I went by, but the blade did sink in to the hilt and more light blood spurted.
The angel also staggered from it and the next two strikes nailed him as well.
I really should have been paying attention to the bus. Guns popped out of it, some aimed my way, some aimed in the direction of my demons. My demons ignored them of course, but I couldn't afford to; luckily by this point, I could dodge with ease, and since it looked like my minions had things well in hand by this point, I dodged well away and under cover.
Some of my fellow officers were returning fire from the now shattered windows of the lobby, which didn't seem to be doing much. Maybe I should get a gun for situations like this; not every enemy I faced was to be a demon it seemed. But perhaps it was better not to give in to temptation.
Then the bus started up, and I knew that was all kinds of bad thing. Unfortunately, while I could now run in between bullets, I couldn't do much to open the reinforced door - which meant I had to bail before the terrorist's aim caught up or the bus slammed into the not quite shut garage door. I couldn't even yell a warning to Karen in time, it would just be a high pitched screech.
Luckily she appeared to not need it; she wasn't in sight as the bus tore through the metal and ground to a stop. Thor wasn't in sight either, they were probably behind one of the humvees. The door to the bus opened, and I was halfway to it before the sporadic fire started again... this time from my own, fanned out behind our vehicles. I reversed course fast enough to trip, recovered, and got behind cover all in what had to be a tenth of a second.
Perhaps I was going a bit too fast. It wouldn't do to get ventilated by my own reinforcements who didn't even know I was there.
Lightning which pegged the first guy to step off the bus revealed where Karen was; I made my way to her by way of the wall, behind our troops. I was glad to see they were all recognized faces of the ADTF.
The next guy off the bus had a heavy shield; a few people slid out behind him and found cover before Karen nailed him; the back emergency door opened and a few more slid out that way. I sidled up next to Aims as slowly as I could; I must have done it right because he ignored me and popped a terrorist in the foot.
Then as the man fell screaming, Aims shot a second time and the screaming stopped.His voice was too low and too slow to understand, so I slowed down a bit more; just in time to catch the most of it.
" ...better be you, Snow, I'm too pretty to die."
"It's me," I assured him. "I just wanted to make sure you knew I was here, and not to shoot me."
"Ha, that's adorable. You sound like one of those animated chipmunks when you talk like that." Aims told me, putting another shot into a terrorist helmet.
"Yeah screw you too. People can't shoot what they can't track."
"I can shoot anything," Aims told me. "But you won't have to worry. We all know you're here now and what you're doing. I'd recommend you stay well out of this, though; there's no demon to fight. We can handle this."
"The demon is outside, Grex is keeping him busy."
"Good to know," Aims replied.
Something was thrown at our position from the inside of the bus - dynamite?!? I grabbed Aims before it landed and dragged him out of the way by pure fear inspired force. The stick was enough to lift the car - and set it on fire. It definitely would have been enough to kill us both had I waited for it.
"Why didn't you just slow it down or put out the wick or something?" Aims sputtered at me, switching to his pistol and pinning the thrower down.
"Because that's some risky crap, and I wasn't sure I could pull it off!" Seriously, was he insane? The car wasn't worth a life, no matter how expensive. But it was a cheap Kia anyway, so screw it.
What I could do was speed up again, wait a bit, and then... heh.
"Wait, let him throw if he has another; stop pinning him down, I got this."
"Alright, trust," Aims said and switched targets.
The mad bomber did indeed have another one; as I saw him stick an arm out the window and rear the bomb back, I sped up again, ran up - and body checked it back into the bus. The brief contact with me was enough to speed the fuse or timer or whatever it was using; the explosion was immediate.
I was fast enough to give the force a good race, but the bus was armored so it didn't matter either way; the force stayed mostly in the bus itself, and the worst I had to dodge was shattered glass.
I felt a bit like that guy in that movie as I did; it was too bad no one could see me dance through it all unscathed.
I tried not to think about all the people I'd just killed.
With the bus done as both a source of firepower and cover my friends could easily mop this up; it was time to go back outside. I hadn't felt my link with Grex fade and I was still moving stupidly fast, so he was still alive... but the twins could both be down, and that would be my fault too.
They weren't of course; with a start, I realized I was moving much faster than all of the other combatants, and the few gunmen that I'd left out front were still out front. I was beginning to feel the burn, however.
The angel was still up and fighting, but he had to be feeling the burn too; he had wounds all over him. Sarex was down with a wound in her stomach, with Abnex standing over her warily. Grex had a long cut bleeding liquid fire down an arm but it didn't appear to hamper him any.
I could aim another strike at the angel, but I'd killed more than enough today.
While I hesitated, drawing back my power and slowing down, the angel drew back and punched Grex; Grex fell back three steps and brought his weapon up, but the angel didn't follow up. Instead, he turned to me.
"You will not win here, demon lord," he said, spitting the words with surprising venom as he brought his sword in line with me. "It is clear that this attack has failed, but we will not rest until your plans are exposed and this area purged of your corruption. You...."
The angel stopped mid-sentence as a small beam of pure darkness pierced it from above. Something happened, something in existence bent, and the angel dissolved as if it was never really there at all. What had happened? I hadn't done that; Grex nor Abnex had done it, and Sarex was still on the ground groaning, her wound smoking.
The angel's sword followed suit, dissolving from the blade up. I blinked the afterimage of the bright spectacle from my vision.
A clatter of guns hitting the ground hit my ears as I finally released my power, looking around. Karen's eyes met mine as she stalked from cover at me.
"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Come on, that bolt or beam or whatever it was came from inside the building."
I knew what she was saying of course, but it made no sense. "What building?"
"Our building," she replied.
We went in through the garage entrance. The bus was still burning merrily, just like the car that had been bombed. The survivors were being rounded up and treated.
I caught a snatch of conversation. "So not a single one died in the explosion?"
"Nah. A few hurt so badly that they no doubt wish they had, but not a single one dead, even the bomber. I'd hesitate to call it a miracle, but...."
So I hadn't actually killed anyone. That - was a relief. Scars and wounds could heal, and even lost limbs could be replaced or worked around; death was permanent. I'd make the choice again, but knowing even these misguided fools hadn't lost their lives due to me was comforting.
We headed up and through the swarms of uniforms giving first aid to the injured or questioning. In more than one case Karen growled at passersby, and I had to hurry along to catch up. We took the stairs, of course, there was no way the elevators wouldn't be packed. That didn't help Karen's mood at all.
"So how's Thor?" I was acutely aware of Grex still behind me, still bleeding with his arm hanging limp and not seeming inconvenienced in the slightest."
"He's fine," Karen replied, biting off the words. "He's resting now, because something, some angel or demon or whatever, took his wing off with a sword."
"Sorry."
Karen sighed and stopped so fast I almost ran into her. "Look, it's not your fault. I just... something is very wrong here. There was a demon that looked like an angel or something, and now someone we know is sandbagging. Someone other than you that is; I don't blame you for doing it, we all save an ace card or two, but I'm just... I don't know."
I declined to tell her I told her so on the angel. "Well, that makes the two of us - and as far as an ace, necessity is the mother of invention."
That was my story and I was sticking to it. If Karen really knew what I was capable of, she would... well I'd probably be locked in a cellar somewhere and studied. That had happened before, I'd read some of the classified files; my mom had almost been locked up, and I bet somewhere in my jacket, hidden from me, were words to the same effect.
My loose earrings burned in my pocket; I didn't dare draw more attention to their lack of presence lest very awkward conclusions were drawn. But enough about me; what had that beam been, and who had thrown it? I'd sensed the power of it; that thing had... burned something that should not have burned, somehow, for lack of a better term.
I spared a look at Grex, to find him bandaging his still bleeding arm. He met my gaze and shook his head to my unspoken question; I'd be getting no answers from that quarter then.
Baron came rushing down the stairs and stopped as soon as he saw us. "It's over then?"
"No thanks to you," Karen shot at him. "We could have used your help. Were you at the offices?"
"I just came from there, why?" Baron answered, narrowing his eyes and taking in my presence. Karen had a passable command voice.
"Come on. Was anyone else there?"
"A few," Baron answered her as he fell in. "Why?"
"You didn't do anything, did you? Watch the fight from the offices?"
Baron shook his head. "You can't see anything from that high up. I tried to see what was happening for a minute, then realized it was an attack and geared up. Evidently, I took too long...?"
Karen nodded. "Yeah, you missed it. So who was in the office when you left?"
"Why?" Baron asked.
"Because something happened and it looked like it came from our offices, and I want to know who did it."
Baron turned to me. "Do I even want to know?"
I was only too happy to shoot him down. "Not really."
I mean, he had a vest on under his robe. Under his robe! What good was a vest going to do him that is robe wouldn't? And if that bulge there wasn't a gun, I'd eat my cowl. Gearing up my foot, he had been excusing himself.
We hit the top of the stairs and looked around to find our office empty. Karen wasted no time heading to the windows facing the street; all of them were large unbreakable things you saw gracing skyscrapers or even just large office buildings the world over.
Except something was wrong with one of them, and I could sense it from here.
The first thing was the air pressure and heat, the building's central air was on and working, but the air didn't hold that canned quality that made it usually did. Instead, there was an element of movement and humidity on the floor which wasn't normal.
As we got closer it was more obvious; one of the windows, the one directly facing over the battle that had just concluded in such an anti-climactic manner, had a hole in it. A hole about the diameter of a quarter, bleeding cool air with a sound not unlike that of a plane cabin depressurizing. There was no smoke and no melted residue; the hole looked to be perfectly shaped and as much a part of the window as the glass was.
Karen turned to Baron. "Was anyone standing here when you left?"
Baron's answer was quick, but a little perplexing. "There were a few; the Captain, Aims, a secretary...."
Baron froze mid-sentence.
I followed his gaze - and saw Cords, walking toward us, hands in the pockets of his rumpled uniform.
He was walking through the desks as if they didn't exist.
"And me. You were about to mention me, weren't you Baron?" Cords asked. It was his voice.
Baron said nothing and did not move. Cords turned to me and I felt the full force of his gaze, his attention, his majesty, slamming into me; I locked my knees.
Cords smiled. "Hello, Maeve. Good to see you again." Those eyes... yellow and slitted, like an animal's; those were not Cord's baby blue eyes.
"Who are you?" I managed to ask, keeping my tone civil and voice light. Whoever this was.
I reached for my athame, and Grex's hand locked mine in place.
"Oh come now, Maeve. I think you know. If you don't, you can at least figure it out. I'm someone who has waited a very long time to see you, face to face - in a manner of speaking."
Not Cords stepped up and cupped my chin for a moment before I managed to draw away. It felt as if I were being pressed on by all the weight of the world. "You do not disappoint, my little madness."
"What do you mean? What happened to Cords?"
Not-cords waved the question off with a warm smile, stepping closer again. "Oh, Cords is no more; he has shuffled off this mortal coil many months ago. In truth, You and he never really met; but fear not for at least some of the man is with me."
He reached again and I retreated again, bumping my backside on the glass window behind me. Dead - dead for months? How long? The gaming, the museum? Had he been impersonating Cords the entire time?
"Come now Maeve, you need not play hard to get."
"If you were Cords this long, why reveal yourself now?"
Not Cords whipped around and his glare was a physical thing - before it relented and softened.
"Simple, some silly little bird worm, some flying dog, dared to point his weapon at my lovely. Some insults just cannot be borne."
There was no doubt not Cords was making a point there, and it was one Karen received.
"Also," not Cords continued. "I must confess this skinsuit is wearing thin, even with all the steps I've taken to ensure it's long life."
"But.. why?" Why all this?
Not Cords turned back to me, and he moved.
As fast as I could be, his arms were around me before I could begin to react. Rather than interfere, Grex stepped away. "Why to get to know you, my dear. And also to test you of course; I will not allow just anyone at my side, despite whatever you may have heard. I am... exacting. Or so I am told."
All that death, all those souls consigned to Hell, for this? Just to get to know me?
"You could have just asked."
Not Cords... no, the morning star, Lucifer himself, threw back his head and laughed. "Ah, but my dear Madness, where is the fun in that? These last few months have been more entertaining than... well, I have been more amused lately than in a long time. You never fail to deliver; I think it's your innocence I love the most."
He drew himself closer and... sniffed me, drawing it out. "Ahhh. You know, I used to scoff at love. Or rather, mortal love; But now I think I understand it, and what it means."
I was being held, but I was cold. Please God, please don't let him be saying what he's saying. Please just let me be insane and imagining this. Maybe I was dead, and this was my Hell? Simple Limbo wasn't enough, I had to have.. this?
Not Cords put a hand through my hair. "Ah, your confusion and disgust at this moment. Come now my little madness, do not be so cold. I might actually be more than simply fond of you, you should rejoice."
He was not looking my direction as he said that, but Karen's.
I had to try; he liked me right? At least a little bit? "Don't... please don't hurt her. Don't hurt any of them, please."
Not Cord's eyes and smile both widened, showing perfect teeth. "Ah, my little madness, you are too good for this world! On the contrary, it is not these worms you should worry over - but that is a conversation for another time when my own time is not as short. It seems that when you destroy a lapdog of God, you draw the attention of other lapdogs."
Not Cord's hand reached down my robe, grasping my rings. He carefully stood me up and gently put my earrings back in my ears.
"There. Now keep them in. No need to shake like that! I'll not hurt you. Try and lay low the next several days; I will be watching."
Not Cords stepped back, waved, and exploded from the inside out in a shower of gore.
It was all over now.
Everything had changed, in moments. My new life just as destroyed as my old one.
I was packing. I was packing alone, my phone silent. Of course, it would still be silent even if I hadn't turned it off.
No one wanted to talk to or hang out with the person the Devil had declared an interest in; it wasn't a healthy long-term prospect. One only had to look at my last boyfriend. Unless Satan had been lying, he had been chosen, dragged to the circle in the warehouse, and ritually slaughtered all so that Satan could take his guise. Just because he looked at me.
Or because I had looked at him.
I wasn't stupid enough to think that he meant what he said about having feelings for me. He wanted me for something - but I didn't know what or why. Grex was still close-lipped over the reason if he even knew it; it wasn't like the almighty ruler of Hell had to answer to my plebby demon lord.
As if thinking of him focused his attention, Grex turned from taping up a box full of my books and raised an eyebrow.
"Finish the job, Grex."
"But Mistress, I..."
"No Grex. Unless you can tell me why the freaking Devil is actually after me, don't say a word. Just do what I tell you."
"Mistress, I have told you. He himself told you, or at the very least inferred the reason. He wishes you to be his bride."
The apartment spun for a moment before righting itself; if my stomach had been full I'd have emptied it on the fatigues I was stuffing into my still new field pack. I flopped back in the chair and lowered my head. Breathe, I had to breathe.
"Not funny Grex. The ruler of the abyss, the original betrayer, does not do things like love or marriage. Now shut up unless you want to tell me the real reason. All of it."
Grex couldn't actually lie to me. To say that so plainly and out loud...!
It defied sense, logic, and reason.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Grex, answer the door, and be polite."
Grex flowed into the floor and past me. I could still sense where he was as he moved around me. I got up and focused on my packing. the familiar tread in the hall warned me; I looked up in time to be smothered in a hug.
No no no no no! "Dad, what are you doing here?"
mom jumped from the hall, a slightly bent smile on her face, and grabbed my other side. "Honeeeyyyy!"
They had to know by now! Dad was a cop, and all the police had been briefed on yesterday's events and the fallout.
"Still injured over here. What are you two even doing here!?!"
"We came to see you of course," Dad said, finally easing up.
"You didn't answer your phone," Mom said, nuzzling my cheek with hers.
"It's turned off." I didn't want to risk it. "why are you even here? It's dangerous!"
People around me had a way of... no, I couldn't finish that thought. I had showered six times, and at times I still felt Cords coating me.
"It was dangerous before. Now we just know how dangerous it is. It isn't as if the big guy down below didn't know who or where we are. If he decides to do something to us, it isn't as if we have a chance."
"Right!" Mom added with just a bit too much cheer. "So we just won't worry about it! But you, we hear you are going to the front, so we came to see you off!"
Dad ignored Mom and focused on chewing his unlit cigar. "We came to offer advice and help packing."
I turned from him to find Mom already picking through my field pack. Mainly throwing my clothes around.
"Too many for the field, you only need two sets and two sets of underwear. You'll need tampons of course, not pads because demons can smell the blood and I doubt anyone as strong as you will be taken off the line for your period...."
"Mom!" I turned back to Dad, mortified.
Dad just met my gaze calmly. "Pay attention, this is good advice she's giving. It kept her alive."
"Oh, and charcoal! You'll want charcoal in order to mask scents and possibly to cook with. It also works as a good currency, since good cooking fuel is normally at a premium."
I wasn't carrying charcoal; my pack was too heavy already.
"Money is mostly useless," mom continued. "So precious metals are the best currency. The best isn't gold, but silver, followed by copper."
Well, silver made sense since it was a good metal to use for circles or stopping demons, but it was also way too expensive for someone on my salary to buy in any meaningful amount. Copper I didn't understand at all, the only general use I could remember for that metal was plumbing.
There was even less of a chance of smuggling copper pipe in my field pack than the charcoal.
"You should pack double of any spell or ritual component you have; resupply is usually a distant dream on the front." Mom continued, sounding wistful.
Dad joined me in looking at her, his face unreadable.
I had to admit on that one she had a point. There would be no sending Grex away to the corner store for odds and ends; it would be too dangerous to be without him where I was going. I'd miss the coffee from downstairs too.
Mom had finally reached the side pocket. "Good, at least you packed toilet paper. The army is usually slow to hand more of that out too. You might want to add some of your commonly used medicines too; as long as it's over the counter stuff, the quartermasters won't bat an eyelid."
"Right, knew I was forgetting something." I rushed to the bathroom.
Grex had stayed silent while packing my things. Usually, he liked to stir things up with Mom; there really must be an ulterior motive that he couldn't tell me.
I wasn't sure if that was a relief or not. I wanted to tell myself that yes it was, but part of me was sure the motive was worse than... the other thing he wanted. I was sure by now that Murphy was laughing at me somewhere, and it could always get worse.
I grabbed the aspirin, the antacids, some pain patches, and yes it wouldn't do to forget the Midol, shut up inner Mom, and came back. The bottles I put cotton in so they wouldn't rattle, then I wrapped the mess up in a shirt.
"That's all I can really think of. You've got the rest - even the extra food." Mom looked at me, her smile lopsided.
"I'll be fine, Mom."
I would be fine. Maybe if I said it enough, we'd both believe it.
"So where to now?" Dad asked me, pulling out another cigar. He looked calm enough, but he'd systematically bitten the previous one into pieces.
"I still need to go to the cop shop and get my marching orders. Officially."
They would have avoided that step if they could, I was certain, but they needed to make it obvious I was no longer here.
They were even going to announce my transfer in the paper, for crying out loud; not just one, all of them. Didn't want to leave the demon responsible for slowly killing all humanity out of the intelligence loop.
All my belongings were now in boxes or totes, taped up and labeled. Even the posters and prints were gone. The apartment was still technically mine, but if need be the boxes would be moved and it would be reassigned to a new Summoner. If I died in combat.
I took my bag back and zipped it up; I had to put effort into it. "Grex, take this and follow me."
As much as I hated the idea, I wasn't about to give up the protection. I was sure I needed it. He followed me out the door. It was questionable how much protection he would offer, considering his inability to protect me from my greatest threats... but I'd take what I could get when I could get it.
I didn't bother locking up, but I heard the click as Dad did. Good old Dad - he believed in me, somehow. He didn't know the whole truth, not many did, but he had hope.
I hated to crush it; not again.
I headed for the stairs, and Mom grabbed my arm with a "nope," vetoing that idea. Luckily it was empty, so we had room.
"We'll follow you in," Dad assured me.
"Actually, can you ride with me?"
Mom and Dad shared a look as the elevator opened. "Sure honey, we can do that."
The Chrysler was right where I left it, parked in the furthest spot from the door I could manage and alone.
"Hold on a minute," I told my parents. "Grex, pass the field pack back and play bomb sniffer."
It was painfully clear after yesterday that not all my enemies were demons. Grex limboed his way under the car for a moment, then came out the other side.
"All clear, Mistress."
I handed him the key. "Make sure."
He shrugged and unlocked the car door. I stepped back a little as he got in, ready to do my thing just in case. I had all my jewelry in, but I could still manage it for a few seconds; I was getting stronger all the time.
But the car started right up with no problems. Grex moved over and dusted the driver's seat, which was my cue.
I got in and unlocked the back. My parents piled in. I waited until doors were shut and locked and seat belts were fastened, as was my right as the driver, no matter how often Mom rolled her eyes. I could simply outlast her.
Once that was done I pulled out and joined the flow of traffic.
I was silent on the drive; we all were. The air was charged with what I wanted to say, but I couldn't force the words. I just didn't know how to say any of it. I could only guess my parents felt the same; after all, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. I did take after Dad more than Mom in that respect; Mom tended to say whatever popped into her head, and she wasn't saying anything now. Instead, she was watching traffic go by with a wide smile plastered on her face.
Dad had snapped another cigar in half. He was going to explode if he didn't smoke one soon. But for all of that, not a word.
I quit staring in the rearview mirror and focused on the road.
The uniform that waved us into the parking garage wasn't one I recognized. The armed SWAT just past the officer rung a faint bell; I think I'd seen them somewhere. My parking spot was empty. I pulled carefully into it, got out, and tapped Karen's hum-vee.
Karen's parking spot was almost half the garage length away.
The bullet holes were still in the door - a little odd considering all the evidence of the explosives used yesterday. I led the way in and got halfway around to the elevators before realizing my Mom was still staring at them, and Dad was humoring her.
No, I wasn't waiting for this. I couldn't, I just couldn't.
I went back down the hall and grabbed Mom, dragging her out of the way. With a shrug, Dad followed.
"Aw, honey, I wanted to figure out what caliber..." Mom pouted.
"Thirty, in the case of the door. Mostly uzis or berettas for the rest."
Mom narrowed her eyes, trying to go for shrewd. "Really? Are you sure?"
"Pretty sure, yes," The blood spatter had been cleaned from the walls. If I hadn't known it was there....
The hall cleared before us. When the elevator opened, the cops in it all but ran out of our way. Out of my way.
No one got on the elevator with us, either. Mom didn't notice, but Dad was gritting his teeth.
We made it to the floor; I stepped off -
The rush of air, the smell of burning glass, the blood, all the blood
- and all activity on the floor stopped.
"Alright! We're here, where all the real work is done!"
Good old Mom, clueless as always. I straightened up and led the way to the conference room. I was early, because time was my ally. The entire floor was spotless and the holed glass replaced. Like the garage, all evidence of yesterday had been scrubbed away.
"Come on, let's go talk to the imp!"
Good old Mom, who had an attention span of a gnat. That was fine though, it would keep her and Dad busy. They didn't need to be told they wouldn't be allowed in the room.
Aims was there in his full gear. He opened the door and shut it after I walked inside. Grex just flowed under the door as if invited... which of course he was, by me.
The Captain was there, but he wasn't at the head of the table - the chief was. The chief who technically wasn't in my command structure at all. At the four corners of the room was my team, fully locked and loaded. The Captain was to the right of the chief, Karen was to the left.
There was also someone I didn't recognize. A baby-faced looking Captain in full dress uniform, who looked squeakably clean and boot camp fresh. His name tag said Reynolds.
"Take a seat, Summoner Numens."
Yeah, no. I stopped and went to parade rest. "I'd prefer to stand, sir."
"Fine. Care to...."
Captain Reynolds interrupted. "Summoner Numens, the army has decided to exercise it's right to deploy you. You are to report to the tower by 1700, after which you will be flown to Paris. Are those orders in any way unclear?"
"No, Sir."
"I need you to sign receipt of those orders. The form at your end of the table."
I read it before I signed it. It was a standard release from civilian duty to military life, but the general himself had authorized it; I suppose I should be flattered. It wasn't anything my Captain hadn't warned me about in the phone call this morning. I shouldn't be angry at him; I did appreciate the warning. That and talking to me in the first place.
Etiquette demanded I now salute, so I did. Captain Reynolds snapped one off himself, collected the form, and told me sternly "Don't be late" as he left the room.
My guess is, seeing an actual demon attack would break him.
-the scent of blood, cloying red everywhere I looked-
Yeah, he probably wouldn't last five seconds.
Orders received, I was no longer a civilian. Unless a complaint was formally lodged about my conduct, I could simply leave. I wanted nothing more - and yet, I needed to stay.
The chief Harrumphed and started again. "Summoner Numens, do you have anything you'd like to share regarding yesterday?"
"It's all in my report, sir."
I'd had Grex write that report. Having to check it for demonic screwups was much better than the alternative. Just doing that much was enough. More than enough.
"You made a report?"
"This morning, Sir." Of course, the Chief hadn't read it. He was a busy man, or so I heard.
The Captain leaned over and whispered something to the Chief... and he blanched.
"Right, we've no need of your testimony this time, Summoner Numens. You are dismissed."
With a shrug I didn't bother to hide, I turned around and marched out the door. It was just as well they did not ask me anything; I wouldn't have had any answers for them. I was sure the question 'how did you not notice' would be asked eventually.
Right up there with "are you compromised?"
Now I waited, Grex at my back. I could already see from here that my desk was cleaned and cleaned out. I wonder who did it. At least they left the basic books for the next guy or gal. There were some helpful notes in there.
The office was busy, with everyone looking doing some long overdue forms. Shuffling papers and clicking on keyboards were the only sounds. Aims was still at the door, fingering his rifle and staring straight ahead.
The comms room was dark, the door shut.
I leaned against the wall and waited, watching as Mom swept through the room, asking inane questions and generally getting in everyone's way. I wouldn't interfere unless she asked something embarrassing. I wouldn't put it past her. Dad followed in her wake, trying to explain procedure.
The imp she had spotted belonged to Charlie, back in the office with a cast. Pressed into service to cover my departure, I guess. With the way his leg was propped up, I was guessing he wouldn't be much help. Maybe he was here to cover in case of an attack? If so, the department was grasping at straws; a bum leg meant Charlie was in no shape to be here.
Where was Baron? Had they already sent him back home? Or was he the one out patrolling now, with the other team, while Charlie played at being backup? By my count, either way, we were short a summoner.
Well, they were short a summoner.
The door opened, and Karen strode out first.
"Just who I wanted to see."
She stopped with her customary grin. "You too Snow. Want a ride?"
"You read my mind... or you're going to pick up my replacement."
"That's what I like about you, Snow; you've got a pretty sharp mind." She told me.
Sarah and Roddy came out of the conference room; Roddy all but shouldered Karen aside.
Sarah, on the other hand, stopped, her emotions plain. "Snow, I... I can't do this. Sorry."
Grex snorted, and it was as loud as a shotgun blast in the mostly quiet room.
Karen glared at Roddy, for her part. "Asshole. He is so getting tacks on his seat when he leasts expects it.
I couldn't quite help myself. "Really, Karen?"
Karen steepled her fingers and rocked on her heels, taking ten years off her apparent age. "Maybe, but I confess nothing! I assume you're already packed?"
I nodded.
"Fine, let's go. No time like the present."
I held up a finger. "One Moment please, I've got one last thing to do here."
"Okay, sure thing. Is it picking up your desk crap? Because if it is, don't worry about it, it's going into storage."
"That's not it." I left her side and went to Dad.
"Dad, I'm leaving. I want you to do something for me."
I pressed the keys to the Newport in his hand. "Take care of my car."
I hugged him close and used the excuse to whisper in his ear: "Drive it. If something happens, get yourself and Mom in it as soon as possible."
I could see his eyes widen, but he didn't give the game away. "Sure, I can do that. Better than it sitting around gathering dust."
Mom decided to get in on the action, grabbing us both. "Goodbye honey, have fun at the war!"
Whatever; I hugged her. "Sure Mom. Take care of Dad, okay?"
Mom nodded so hard and fast her pendant bounced. "I will, honey! You don't have to worry about us at all!"
"Right, good to know. I'll see you when I see you."
"Six months," Karen said. Did she know what I was doing? Technically my car should be impounded because of all the protections. My own hum-vee probably already was - but she wasn't saying anything.
"Right, see you in six months."
We went to the elevator, and once again the red sea of people parted for me. Karen's eyes narrowed and she pronounced her verdict - loudly: "Idiots."
Once again the elevator was emptied out. We three got in and Karen pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors closed, and no one else tried to use it.
"Look, they will get over it. They just seem to have forgotten that death is always with us. Death and worse; it's not like the ADTF rank and file have a good retirement statistic. Heck, when polled, most of them even said they volunteered for the reason that the more altruistic of us summoners and military gave."
She made me curious despite myself. "What reason is that?"
"The realization that death by demon could happen to them anywhere, at any time, even if they retired. Just driving up to a fast food joint can end in death. Maybe it's because of the mostly peaceful nature of America, but this office seems to have forgotten that."
That was a good point.
"Don't worry, I'll help them come around. It's my job, after all."
That sounded ominous, but I couldn't really bring it in myself to care. Well, much.
Karen brightened. "It might even be that being your friend is better than being your enemy."
"Yeah, I wouldn't lay odds on that." I really shouldn't have said that.
Karen shrugged it off as the elevator doors opened. "Maybe not, I don't know. It's a gamble. He didn't kill you though, and he definitely could have, so maybe he wants your goodwill."
"Not sure I approve of his way of showing it."
"Well, I can't really argue with that. If he shows up again, you can ask him."
I had to stop a moment, and one of the uniforms almost fell to avoid running into me. I could almost feel Grex's smirk.
"Karen, you're insane. If I see him again, I'm going to run." Somehow, some way.
This time I could actually feel amusement from behind me. I doubt Grex would be as amused when I sent him against his former master to buy time as I ran. I still owned him for roughly nine and a half years.
I doubted if he attacked, whether it was forced or not, he would be spared.
Of course, if he died, so did the source of my power. If I was lucky, the Lord of Lies would lose interest when that happened. And then, of course, he would be completely merciful in his apathy and not slaughter me and torture my soul for all eternity. No, it was best that not happen; as long as I had power I could do something. Maybe I could even stall the war like Mom did, and buy us another generation. Surely that was worth - everything, right?
It said something about me that this was the best outcome I could see. Clearly, I was an optimist.
As Karen unlocked her vehicle I grabbed my bag; as soon as I could I threw it in the backseat of her ride and climbed in front.
"You don't need him out anymore," Karen said, pointing to my demon.
"I don't feel safe without him out. I'm pretty sure if he wants, the big S can go through this thing."
Karen raised an eyebrow as she turned the ignition. "The big S?"
"I don't want to name him, on the off chance that he's listening."
"Fair." She conceded as she pulled out, narrowly missing sideswiping a black and white.
We pulled out and not five minutes later, we were at Burger Barn. The same Burger Barn where the first demon I saw went berserk. Karen pulled us into the drive-thru.
"Really?"
Karen smirked. "My treat, for once. I missed lunch because of those stupid meetings. Trust me, we've got time."
I shrugged. Technically she as still a superior officer, and if she made us late I still wouldn't be AWOL.
The penalty for a summoner running was still death, last time I checked - but I doubted they would have the guts to follow through now. I'd just be shoved into the darkest most isolated hole they could find instead.
Karen didn't ask, instead ordering my usual from memory, for both of us. Her card was charged and her food handed over without a word; the girl working the window wasn't one I recognized. Was she new? New or not, she was scared. I checked the order; there was no spit or other foreign substances in it, and it was correct.
We pulled out, took the overpass and barely fifteen minutes later turned onto the base road.
"We've come full circle, huh?" Karen asked.
Huh; I guess we have. "Sort of. Heading off in your car to an uncertain fate, not knowing if I'll be dead in a month... Yea sounds familiar."
Karen laughed. "Nothing so melodramatic. Look, Snow, you're a quick learner, and you're strong. Stronger than your mother was. I can see how you might think this is us hanging you out to dry, but it isn't. Lots of things can go hidden in the front, in all the chaos. We're betting even the big S can't find you there unless he knows where to look."
Again I sensed amusement from Grex. Was that normal, to sense a demon's emotions? Perhaps it was a given time thing because it wasn't something I could do before.
If Karen knew just how strong I really was - she suspected some because all summoners sandbagged a little, but if she knew how much, just how I cleared my patrol zones of demonic attacks, I was sure something different would happen.
"But you already gave him the clue he'd need."
"Not at all, he thinks you're going to Paris, and it would normally make sense to send you there; it's dangerous, but not too dangerous; perfect for keeping summoners mostly safe, if they pay attention. But you? You can handle Russia, so that's where you're going."
If anything Grex was even more amused.
I wasn't; all of the summoners I'd asked about the war said that front was a death sentence. More importantly, only one of those summoners had actually been from the Russian front. Not a good anecdotal statistic.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence." I didn't manage to completely scrub the sarcasm.
Karen either didn't notice or didn't care. "No problem, you earned it. Your clear rate is phenomenal, and you have good urban warfare experience now. Usually, the urban environments are the most lethal, so if you keep your head screwed on right, I'll be picking you up and we can talk about full circles again."
Right. "So, new guy? Tell me about him."
"New two guys, actually. I'm dealt with both, and one is kinda hot. Anyway, they just passed basic and the police need reinforcements. Both only have imps, but one is the son of an FBI agent, so we're hoping he's another born investigator."
"So, they getting my apartment?"
Karen snorted. "There's a hold on that apartment and right now no one else deserves it. There might be some cleaners in that place's future, but unless something strange happens, it'll be there when you get back."
Again, amusement from Grex. What was so funny now?
"Good, I wouldn't wish moving my furniture on anyone." That stuff was heavy.
Karen's voice turned somber as her gaze went back to the road. "I should probably tell you. We have confirmation; the CSI team found Cord's blood at the ritual site. Some other pieces too."
So the Cords I knew, was not the human Cords after all - but how did that work? How would the big S know about car shows and the internet and comm systems, if Cords wasn't in there somewhere?
Well, had been in there. I was petty sure we both knew where the rest of Cords ended up. Rest in peace, poor soul, I hope you escaped Hell at least.
"At least he didn't lie about that," it was only after I spoke that I realized I had.
"True," Karen told me. "But we can't be sure of anything else. If you do start making wedding plans though, let me know, alright? I want plenty of time to start running."
"No wedding plans so far. Though if it happens, I might just dub you maid of honor." Maybe she'd choke on that and shut up. I guess it was my fault for thinking out loud, but that didn't make it any easier to hear.
"I'd be honored, but I'd rather not get any closer to the big guy than necessary; there's only so much luck a person has, and I'm pretty sure I used the last of mine yesterday."
I'm pretty sure we both did, I wanted to say. But I wanted this conversation to end.
Mercifully, it did. We rode in silence while I ate in Karen's car and watched the desert pass. She didn't touch hers. I really shouldn't be eating this, I wasn't in the mood, but six months was a long time to go without.
I stole her fries while she wasn't looking. Grex was amused about that too.
I could see the base gate before Karen spoke again. "We're not throwing you to the wolves, you know? We aren't giving up, we're just playing for time. He's not invulnerable or unstoppable, there are rules. We'll find a way to stop him, keep him out. You just need to hold on until then."
She was still staring straight ahead, pulling to a stop. But I could read her after this long; she was at ease, relaxed.
"Okay."
The gate guard just took one look at Karen and waved us through, like the last time. I guess impersonating her - or us, complete with Grex - would be hard to pull off, but it still grated. Hadn't this guy heard about yesterday? Even with the desert, an attack here wasn't impossible.
Karen didn't stop in front of the tower, instead driving behind it and to the small airfield. It was a helicopter field, not suited for planes, but there were two transport choppers and two attack helicopters parked at the ready at any given time. Mostly to chase down runners.
One of the choppers, a bell Huey, was currently idling, the rotors already spinning.
"Sorry you don't get to meet the new guys," Karen said. "It was decided that you leave as soon as you got here."
"Has that chopper been idling an hour?" That seemed pretty wasteful.
"About that," She answered. "Like I said, the general is pretty committed to trying to do right by you. He isn't the only one, either."
Something like all this, and not a bullet in the head... must have cost in terms of political capital. Then again, maybe not. The big S was a wild card.
I got out, ducking instinctively because how could you not, and grabbed my bag out of the back.
"Come on, Grex."
"Good luck!" Karen yelled over the noise.
"Good luck with the new blood! See you in six!" I yelled back. Whatever happened, it really wasn't Karen's fault, and she was being herself.
"Thanks, I'll need it!" She clapped me on the back and ducked back into her car.
I ran for my new ride, the pilot was out checking something; He got in the back and offered a hand and a helmet. I took both.
The chopper was empty, save for us. I picked a seat and belted in and put the helmet on. The pilot waited while I did all this, ignoring Grex (as he should), then checked to make sure I'd buckled in correctly.
A crackle sounded in my left ear. "Sound check; can you hear me, lieutenant?"
"Yes I can," I checked his lapel. "Captain. Sorry I didn't salute?
"Don't worry about it lieutenant, and yeah you're coming through loud and clear. We'll be taking off as soon as we get to speed, and we'll be flying nonstop all the way to Shephards. I suggest if you need to use the facilities, you do so now."
"Thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine. At least until we land." So I'd be hoping on a plane in Texas. Probably a troop transport, delivering recruits. That was fine, I could deal with that - and true to form, Texas was a bit out of our standard routing from here, so it wouldn't be anyone's first choice in looking for me. Probably not even the second.
The pilot, whose name was Pearson, secured my bag, then shut the door; the noise dropped a little.
He ignored Grex entirely (an entirely appropriate thing to do) and walked up, clapping me on the shoulder.
"I'm sure you'll hear this a lot, Lieutenant, but I get to say it first. Welcome to the war."
FIN.
I chopped the wood with an easy stroke, just as I'd been taught. Few chips flew. The evening struck my eyes as I straightened up for a moment, though I resisted knuckling my back.
“Are you sure about this?” My father asked.
I split another log, using momentum to make up for my lack of muscle, as I'd been taught. My father was a burly man, tall and dark, where I was not. The hurt I suspected was there was not present in his voice.
I'm sure, father. The money alone....”
“Hang the money!” He declared, throwing down his adze, his normally careful work haphazard and the chair leg he had been working on ruined.
He took a breath, gathering himself, and continued. “It's not about the gold, son. We can always do something else for that. I can chop wood again, or go to the castle and try again, or....”
“Father, look at me.” He looked up, squinting. I pretended not to see the shimmer; this had to be done.
“The market for wood is down and the other woodcutters would not appreciate new competition, even if you could find a buyer. The Vasrun family broke your last offering to them, and told you never to come back upon pain of death.”
Father stood, grasping my shoulders. “Then I'll find other work, another way! There has to be something! We can move, or...!
I shook my head. “Father, you know as well as I, it is duty.”
He stared into my face as his own fell. “I taught you too well, it seems.”
What could I say to that? I nodded.
“I'll go get dinner ready.” He said, turning and walking towards the house. You clean up here.”
“Alright, father.”
He disappeared into the darkened doorway of our home. I stacked the wood neatly upon the pile it belonged to and covered it with the pitch treated cloth that would keep it safe from wind, rain and bugs. I shook my shirt out and put it on. It was warm out while working, but the evening chill was fast approaching.
Then I took up the tools, both my own ax and the woodworking tools my father had left, and cleaned them. They were all stored in the house.
The strong smell of turps hit me just before I entered. It was matched by the smell of Dix, a local fish. Neither were particularly appealing or filling, but both were cheap, and the turps were easy to grow. One just had to keep the wild beasts from getting into the garden.
The third sniff had me sighing. The flavor was best when not burned. I reached past father and took the spoon. “Father, you're supposed to stir the stew, not stare at it.”
I carefully stirred while father made his usual stuttered excuses; the stew was a water base, which meant it was a little thin, but some readily available grasses usually made up the lack. Father had not added enough onon grass, however.
“How can you stand that much onon grass? It always makes the stew bitter.”
“It coats the other tastes Father, you know that.”
Father's face darkened, but he nodded; he did not like this stew any more than I did. He busied himself by hanging the tools on their intricately made hooks.
Night finished stealing the light as I ladled the stew into our plain bowls. We ate in comfortable silence; afterward, I sealed the remainder up in the pot with the sturdy wooden lid, carved to fit and lock with the lip. The bowls and spoons I took out to the stream. It was best to clean them now, for the scent could attract wild beasts, and there was no telling what damage they would cause.
The stream was fast moving in the spot I preferred, which made cleaning easy; just dunk the dishes in. The water was sweet and clear; I took a long drink before heading back. Finding the proper path came easily. I shut the door and drew the bar across it; the door and bar were both sturdy but were really no more than a strongly worded suggestion in truth.
With the chores done and the darkness now total, I unrolled my mat and gave it a vigorous shake (insect bites in tender places were an awful way to wake up) and undressed before rolling up in my blanket.
I fell asleep to the gentle scrape of wood carving.
…...
I awoke to the sounds of snoring. It was daybreak, I could see the sunlight through the walls.
Without my constant disapproving presence, I feared for my father. I stretched and sat up; there were things on my carefully folded clothes.
A large comb, the kind that would be used to both brush and set hair, lovingly carved in painstaking detail. It depicting our home with wood nymphs frolicking in the background. It made me glad wood nymphs had not been frolicking near our home, for father would certainly have been spirited away.
I couldn't help feeling touched.
I decided to wash and grabbed my clothes and blanket along with my cake of soap. I made it myself using a recipe of ash, zols oil, and strongly scented herbs. I had no idea how close my efforts were to the real thing, especially since I had to substitute for tallow and animal fat, but it seemed to clean us and that was enough.
The stream was cold, but that was helpful in waking up. Downstream it flowed less quickly and was prone to silting over. I washed quickly, dried with my blanket, and dressed. I turned from doing up my last button to find Father there, watching.
“Won't be able to do that anymore.” He said.
A curious statement. “Do what? You mean not bathe? I'm fairly sure the hallowed halls of the capitol might be offended if I arrived smelling like a midden.”
A ghost of a smile graced his lips as Father answered. “No, not that. Not the choice to bathe, but the location. Soon the very idea of you gracing a country stream with your presence will scandalize our nation.”
Surely he was exaggerating. He gave me a look that said he knew more than he was telling. “You'd best get going, they won't hold the ceremony for you if you are late.”
I followed Father inside to find that he had dug his old travel pack out of his trunk. The trunk was a large thing carved hollow from a solid log and held together with expensive iron hinges; there was a cunningly build combination lock built into it; the correct movement of levers outside opened the chest.
The chest hollow contained all of Father's most valuable belongings. I had seen most of them, watching as Father cleaned and cared for them. The old armor he possessed for example, from our ancestor Thoriv. He had kept the old scale mail, the padded underclothes, and the large sword. A slight revealed the expensive oils used to prevent rust.
Father held the old pack out, and I inspected it; it had several cracks from drying out sometime in the past, but the leather was otherwise whole. I grabbed my change of clothes and folded them carefully before placing them in; they were my best. My own tools for cooking and carving went next, and my kit of herbs – I really should go searching for more of those common around here – and finally my own waterskin, which wasn't a skin at all, but a well made and self-sealing tankard.
I grabbed my sling and my pouch of stones, as well as my fishing line, and I was ready.
I turned to find Father holding out a large dagger, almost a small sword on its own, sheathed in worked leather. “You cannot use a sword, but this will serve you in good stead.”
I took the dagger and unsheathed it; it was a wide and thick piece of shining steel, double-edged. A weapon, that could only ever be a weapon. Well, it wasn't as if the roads were completely safe.
I re-sheathed it. “Thank you, Father.”
I belted it on and looked up to find father holding up another locking container in the fashion of my water skin. “Last night's soup.”
It was a large container. “All of it?”
Father wavered a moment, but finally, he nodded. “Father, that soup was meant for us both. I can get something along the road.”
He shook his head. “No. You'll have less chance to scare up food on the journey than you think. Take it all; I will fish up what I need.”
I bowed. “Thank you, Father.”
The last thing Father held out was another wooden object; this one carved by older hands and stained by tinctures and use. It was Mother's pendant.
A depiction of Hastel the magnificent, the first sorceress, it had been in Mother's family for generations as a good luck charm. I could not deny that it failed her, but it was all that as left of her. I settled it around my neck.
Father's eyes were bright. “You'd... best get along now. You don't have much time to reach the village.”
The ritual would be held at dusk. If I left now, I would reach the village by midday, just as the festival started.
“I'll see you again, Father. Please take care of yourself.” It was a promise.
“I'll be waiting, my child.”
I squared my shoulders and walked straight ahead.
…...
The walk to the village was shorter than expected. The woods had been pleasant but silent, lacking in game; I had found a few berries that would be edible for some time and stowed them in a cloth brought for the purpose.
The village clearing loomed into view; a simple beaten path leading to it, the large rush houses to either side. My father had made the foundations for those. The center, where the well was sunk, was decorated with straw women and colored ropes. The bonfire wasn't lit just yet, and the long tables filled with food were still taking shape, being tended to by girl and woman alike under the watchful gaze of what could only be the sorceress and her retinue from the capital, standing on the large wooden platform for the purpose of holding them above the dirty streets on foul weather.
“Kath? What are you doing here?”
I turned to find Meilan approaching, her face as a thundercloud and bowl of fresh baked rolls forgotten. I tore my eyes from the sight as my stomach growled, turning my attention back to Meilan. She would insist on it.
“Good day to you, Meilan.”
Meilan's eyes narrowed. She noticed the dagger at my belt and her eyes narrowed further. “Good day to you, Kath. Now, what are you doing here?”
It wasn't obvious? “I thought I'd enjoy the festival.”
“But you never come! Your Dad turned down the invitation every year! Mom was always trying to get you two to enjoy!”
I nodded; Father had his pride. “That is true, however this year I come of age.”
Meilan quieted, shooting a loaded glance at the sorceress, even now discussing something with the man dressed as a noble next to her. She laughed, and Meilan's eyes narrowed again. Any further and she would find it hard to see.
“Right. I guess that means you can show up for the free food if you want to.” Meilan responded, turning back to me with a small smile.
The food would not be free. Meilan was also coming of age. Tomorrow she would likely be married. I would wish her well; we had been friends for many years.
Speaking of friends, there was Conrad, Count Vasrun's youngest son, making his way to the sorceress.
“Come on Kath, you can help me set out the wine.”
“Sure.”
Meilan led the way down the path and into her house. Her mother was there, pouring wine into earthenware jars and capping them with their lids. Meilan dipped and brought two up smoothly, and I managed to follow her example before her mother realized someone else was present.
“Oh, Kath! You came!”
“Of course.”
“Your father not with you?”
I shook my head.
“That is a shame,” she replied. “My own Forash misses him. Says he just can't drink like he used to, without your Danja there.”
I considered that. “Probably for the best, then. He'd probably never get out into the fields.”
She grinned, and I followed Meilan out the door.
There were a few more present than mere minutes ago, all boys who also needed to participate in the coming of age ceremony. They were stealing food and staring at the village guests with unabashed interest... and in a few cases, awe.
Garz was among them. I waved and turned to help Meilan again.
“Hey, Kath!”
“Garz. Come help.”
He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. “No, I shouldn't be working, and neither should you. It's our big day, and a day free from work for both of us.”
“Only when the festival starts,” I replied, looking pointedly at the square and all the work that needed to be done.
“Come on, don't be like that.”
“Yes,” Zhet broke in, shouldering past Garz. “Don't be like that; you may not have to do day in and day out, but we all work in the fields, and a day's respite is welcome.”
I had worked in the fields before. Many times, in fact.
“Come on, let's not fight,” Garz stated, shouldering Zhet back. No mean feat, that; Zhet was the largest of the boys. There was rumor the Count was waiting to hire him on as a soldier. It was foolish talk, but his chained fury made the rumor believable. The Garz turned to me: “Let's go. The women can handle this, let's go catch the porowogs down by the pond, while we still can.”
Catching porowogs was a child's pursuit. Come tomorrow, none among us would be doing it, no matter what may come. I looked to Meilan and she rolled her eyes dramatically; she had already made another two trips while we had been talking. I shrugged. “Sure. Lead on.”
I could join them at least until midday; that wasn't long and if I was careful I would not need to bathe again before the festival.
Many of my now present company could use a dunk themselves. Perhaps that was a secondary goal here? The pond should be clean enough, for all that the water was sluggish.
The porowog population was low, judging by their croaks. This did not deter my comrades, who gleefully waded into the rushes with reckless abandon, driving the object of their hunt before them.
I made the trap; several sticks pushed into the soft mud together into a circle, angled so the porowogs could not jump out. Some lashing with a handy rush, and it was quite sturdy by porowog standards. A few sticks on one side not lashed together made a serviceable door.
While I busied myself with that, the others busied themselves with laughing and splashing. Porowogs were caught, escaped wet fingers, and caught again. I sat and waited.
“Come on, Kath! Come catch some! If they are big enough, we can eat them!”
I pointed to the cage. “I've done my part.”
Garz marched up to the bank and carefully squelched down beside me. “You know, this is the last day.”
I shook my head. “For me, yesterday was the last day. I spent this morning making myself presentable.”
Garz tapped my dagger. “Is it certain, then?”
I nodded. “We are certain, Father and I.”
There was no need to tell him why we were certain; he could no doubt guess. Some who had the spark within were visited by the Phos, the ethereal ghost lights which led men astray. None knew why or when, but those who lived outside of town saw them more often.
They had been beautiful – and frightening, circling our home the entire night, dashing close to the windows, then away. Only the dawn's light had banished them, and they had not returned. They had not needed to.
Garz saw his answer upon my face. “I see. You'll be leaving, then, come the morning.”
I nodded.
He tapped my sandaled foot with his own. “I make no promises I cannot keep, but I shall do my best to look in on your father while you are gone.”
I turned to him. “Thank you.”
He shrugged. “Well, back to the porowog hunt! We must find at least two for all of us!”
This early in the season that would run a real risk of emptying the pond of them.
An hour later there were porowogs for all (even me, I'd caught a rather plump outlier well away from the mud of the pond) and it was time. We made a large sack of tied rushes and brought our bounty back to the square. All the preparations were finished, and the women not involved were beginning to trickle in; the men would begin to join them around dusk.
The bonfire was lit, which made the start official.
I sat at the nearest table, poured a cup of rich red wine, cleaned my hands in the nearest bucket placed for the purpose, and snagged a fresh loaf of bread with a sigh.
The bread was a delicacy, as was the wine. With one dipped into the other, it was even softer and the taste of both was enhanced. I shot a glance at the sorceress and her retinue, to find her staring off into the fields from her stage, drinking a cup of wine herself, a table of roots and berries the region was famous for in front of her and her escort.
They even had a slemn fish, each, from the river to the North. I wondered who had gone to fish for those; the journey was not an easy one, and a poacher's noose could await anyone who was caught.
And speaking of the poacher's noose, a red-faced son of a Count was striding to our table. My friends looked up warily as he stopped in front of us.
In front of me, specifically.
“Move, peasant.”
I saw Blizal, Conrad's very experienced bodyguard, shift from his position in a nearby doorway, tensing.
I moved. As soon as I was out of the chair, he kicked it over. I just sat down in another; we were not required to bow to him today; his father was not present and he was not a man himself, yet. It was just our misfortune to share a birth year with him.
Meilan righted the chair and he immediately sat down in it without so much as a glance her way. “So what brings you out of the woods, peasant?”
“The festival, of course.” The ceremony also, but that should be a given.
“I thought it had been made clear to you, that your kind were not welcome, here in the village.”
“I'm just an ignorant peasant count, I don't know anything about welcomes,” I responded calmly, watching his face redden. He had no title but insisted on one years ago, and so 'the little count' was born.
He didn't demand we stop, only that we shorten it. Calling him count was against the law, however, the real Count ignored it. This meant one had to be careful.
“Well, get out. Go rejoin your bandit father.”
“I cannot, Count. I am of age and must take part in the ceremony. To do otherwise is against the law.”
A subtle reminder that even he dare not take things too far here. After all, our guests were watching. And they were watching – with great interest.
Conrad noticed as well, and stood up straighter – then kicked my porowog into a tree. I didn't have to look to know it was dead, and likely too befouled to eat, now.
“There is no place at the feast for vermin.” He stated with more volume than he needed to and huffed off grandly when one of the delegation from the capital took a step, hand on what had to be a fine sword.
The Sorceress laid a hand on his arm, uttering low soothing tones. Blizal took his hand away from his own sword as he passed me with a mutter: “I'm sorry about that, Kath.”
“The fault does not lie with you, Blizal,” I replied just as low. “However the sentiment is appreciated.”
He clapped me quickly on the shoulder as he passed; he was a village man, for all his increase in station, and he knew us. The others, village folk all, ignored Blizal's very presence.
“Never mind that crab, Kath. Let's eat!”
We managed to fill our plates before the men came to sit, freshly scrubbed. The women joined us, waiting until after everyone was seated. Some had volunteered to serve, and for that service would receive special consideration for a service throughout the year.
I had provided more than one of those services, together with my father. Furniture and little touches made from wood were in great demand when free. Meilan's mother still had the little corrow I'd carved for her years ago, still standing as if to take flight in pride of place on her mantle.
It did not deserve the place it occupied; if I could I would throw it into the mantle it resided atop. But that would be a grave insult. I had carved her another; Father was to deliver it and convince her to retire the first bird.
I realized I was staring as Meilan and her mother served the Sorceress and her retinue and averted my eyes just in time. Both could tell when they were being watched, and there were limits to how rude one should be.
The little Count stalked back to his place, the far left of the table on the platform where said retinue waited patiently, sitting down just in time to get served himself. He looked to the Sorceress as the other sat; she remained standing, a delicate glass goblet in her hand.
A metal fork was gently rung against the glass, and the odd noise stopped what few conversations had sprung up.
The Sorceress met the expectant looks and then spoke, her voice not so distant from the musical tones the goblet had made.
“Please good people, eat, drink, and make merry! You are the backbone upon which the kingdom of Hastelan rests. I wish you good harvests, bountiful game, and much joy. I raise my glass to you all in the sincere wish of prosperity for all.”
She drank, and we followed.
She opened her mouth again... then sat with a twinkle in her eye.
We all dug into the main course with relish, roast fowl culled from the coops. Normally there would be a diffyr, hunted legally on the Count's land and donated for the purpose, but it had been many seasons since last we saw such.
I tried to pace myself, to match the Sorceress as she delicately cut her food into small pieces rather than the much more simple spear and bite method used by all. She was elegant in a way that even the Count and his kin would be hard-pressed to match.
Were such manners used at court, or at the school?
Judging by the Count's son they were not in any great use at court. They seemed worthy of emulation regardless.
Once the main course had been served and eaten the murmur of conversation rose again, and old Jokaz and Merle gathered their instruments as the others built up the blaze in the square. Jokaz played the liment, and Merle played the pipes. Neither played enough to suit our tastes, saving their gentle notes for special occasions alone.
The dancing and clapping began immediately, and I joined in both as best I was able, for as long as I was able. As the celebration continued the Sorceress circled with light steps, looking among those of us which brought her here.
She came close, and I could find no flaw in her appearance.
Her dress was pale cream, stitched with threads of gold to match her pale honey hair, done up in elaborate braids. She was smaller of stature and lighter of step than the village women, with an unlined face. The intricate layers of her dress should make it a hazard to walk in, and yet she hadn't stumbled once. Her river-blue eyes met mine and I could almost fancy a spark occurred.
Then with a nod, she moved gracefully on, and it was only after I noticed the man in her wake. Tall and dark, he was built as a great cat, and he stalked like one besides. I would have mistaken him for a man like Blizal if not for his rich clothing and the massive ring that was a family crest if ever I saw one. His gaze was pointed, and I lowered my head in deference.
I looked up a moment later to find him gone, still following in the Sorceress's wake as driftwood in the current, bobbing forward every now and again to glare at the course and people ahead before settling back.
Old Jokaz stopped the music soon after, and all the village crowded in for what was to come next, myself included.
“In the beginning, the beginning of beginnings, there was no kingdom, no empire, no stronghold of Man. Man was bereft of succor, wandering lost and alone, prey to both beast and gods. And then in the East, not too far from here, the good lady appeared before Hastelan the mason and said 'Should you wish it, you shall become a king, and lead all the peoples to greatness.'”
Thus began the Cycle of Hastelan the great, founder of the kingdom, which bore his name. We had all heard it many times... but could stand to hear it many more, for it was an epic tale. The sorceress was just as enraptured, leaning forward in her chair and nodding minutely as if to say 'yes that happened' as old Jokaz described the great battles and tribulations of the gods which Hastelan and the good lady, the ancient equivalent of the Sorceress herself, endured.
The epic was a long one, but we listened spellbound as old Jokaz covered the foundation of the kingdom and the subject of more current import, the foundation of the school, the first institution where magic was learned.
As expected of old Jokaz, he finished the first part of the tale just as the sun slipped under the earth. He finally finished as the Kingdom repelled it's first human enemy, an early empire whose name was lost to the sands of time. I had not noticed the men feeding the bonfire, but they must have, for the light was still bright for all that the shadows cast were long.
It was time; the sorceress stood. “Thank you, honored elder; your storytelling was most talented.”
Old Jokaz's nod was both gracious and grave.
“And now, I'm afraid I must impose upon you all. Would the children to be tested please step forward?”
I did so, one of not quite a dozen, Garz fell in on my right side, and Zhet came to my left. Conrad the little count just beyond him. Perhaps that was Zhet's plan, though I'd not ask.
The sorceress stopped by each of us and pressed something into our hands wordlessly. It was a seed, warm from its stay in her palm. Once she had given the little count his, she spoke:
“We must step away from the fire. This way, if you please.”
This much we all knew. We followed as she led us to the tree line. A few steps into the trees there was only sound.
“Stop, and stay still please.”
I waited. A moment later and my sight was almost clear, so when the delicate hands of the sorceress touched my own I did not startle. She led me gently a few more steps, in front of a tree.
“Now, I want you to focus upon the seed I gave you. Imagine it, full of life, opening for you, sharing all of its secrets with you.”
And then she was gone again.
That was it? That was the secret of the coming of age ceremony, which fathers were unable to share upon pain of death? Perhaps there was something I did not yet know?
With a sigh, I focused on the seed. Completion of the task meant a return to humanity. I opened my hand and looked. The seed looked like a simple Paka nut vine seed; whatever life it contained seemed distant. What sort of secrets could such a seed hold?
A simple inspection revealed nothing.
And yet there was something... I could sense something, beyond the lingering warmth the sorceress imparted with it. Wait, such heat should be long gone...
Light caught in the seed, a small spark matched by the phos which suddenly bloomed around me.
The sorceress was there, helping me to my feet as the phos circled us both. No, not to my feet, to the ground before the tree. “Quickly! Plant the seed!”
I shoved the seed into the soft earth before the tree with my thumb, as taught by the planters. It blossomed immediately as the phos swarmed around it, the branches twining around the tree in seconds. The growth only stopped when it reached my height, and only then did the glow fade.
The bonfire might have obscured the glow, but the phos would no doubt have been noticed by all.
The Sorceress helped me to my feet, her genuine smile easily shown in the soft light provided by the phos, still flitting to and fro. “Well done.”
We began to return, the Sorceress's hands warm upon my shoulder and back. “Now, a few things we must discuss before you re-enter your village square; you are not in any way required to join us, though of course, we prefer it. Many do not, and lead happy lives without magic. Should you choose to, you will have a year to change your mind.” she stated. Her words had the weight of those often repeated.
It did not matter. There was happiness, and there was duty. Even should I never pass that tree again, the pull of the vine I caused to grow there would make itself felt. My path had been clear for a season, and this had merely been a stone placed on it.
The sorceress had continued. “Have you seen the phos before?”
“Yes, Milady.”
My leave-taking preparations had been obvious; it seemed.
“And your decision?”
“I will go with you, of course, Milady.”
“Your name?”
“Kath Thorinsson, Milady.”
She hummed as we entered the light from the fire, a musical note almost lost amidst the noise of life, much of which ceased when she became visible. Her hands were once more at her own, folded into each other.
“Your attention, good people of Vard.”
It was meaningless to ask for attention, she already had it. She continued: “The testing is complete. Kath Thorinsson has passed and has agreed to join the ranks of the Illuminate. Beyond the fire and to the west is the proof and covenant of this successful testing; let all who would doubt bear witness.”
The testing was complete? I saw the others to be tested already around the fire, and yet it felt as if only moments had passed since we left it. However, the moon was out, high and fat in the darkened sky.
From the stories told, trees or vines that gave edible fruit were often used for the testing in poorer villages so that the people would have another source of food; some of the more outlandish tales had the plants lasting for lifetimes. In that moment, I could believe them.
The sorceress clapped her hands together. “Now, tonight is cause for celebration! Doubly so in your case; not only do the ranks of the rare swell, but this is your first successful test in generations! So, to merriment!”
She motioned to Meilan, who would not meet my eyes as she brought us both wine.
The little count glared at me from his position near the fringe of the revelry before the sorceress's male companion drew close, blocking the view
I was up with the sun, as normal.
I rose carefully from my place, bedded down on the floor of Meilan's house. The sorceress had wished for me to stay with her at the inn, but I had begged the indulgence, and it had been granted.
Meilan stirred beside me but did not wake. It was just as well, as she needed the sleep; work would not cease for her.
Would that I had something to give her. Something to calm her, as she had been distraught last night. At least she had not broken decorum, for all that she threatened to. Her honor was intact and none could gainsay it.
I gathered my travel pack and carefully opened the door. It was as silent as a whisper, as it should be; I had greased it last night with just this in mind.
Meilan did not stir, though her mother looked up from the bed she shared with her husband. I waved a quick gesture, and shut the door as silently as I opened it. With her awake, I did not need to worry.
One table was spread with replenished finery; a feast of manageable foods designed to break fast while on the road. The Sorceress and her companions were already before it and had already started. I despaired; their manners and demeanor were so different than mine.
"Ah, there is our sleepyhead." The gentle to the Sorceress's left said, smiling to show he meant no sting.
The Sorceress chastised him anyway. "That's quite enough of that, Baron Halith.The young apprentice is on time, it is we who are early."
"Oh hey, none of that now," the older man sitting to the Sorceress's right said. "You're an equal to us now, or as much a noble as we, for all that you are unlanded. You may incline your head to show respect, but you only bow to the king and queen."
I straightened up quickly.
"The good Count Warren is correct - we are equals here. Come and eat with us."
I closed and picked up the nearest fruit bread. It was a rare thing to have here.
"I am the Countess Phine, and you are of course young Kath. I did introduce us all last night, but I've no doubt the excitement chased our names from your head, eh?"
I thought about how best to construct my answer. "I'm afraid not, Sorceress; I remember all of your names, and indeed the names of those men-at-arms in Count Warren's service introduced to me last night. Your full name is Lirisphine, or so you said last night."
The sorceress grimaced. "Please forget that - I am not fond of that name."
I did not want to give offense, but both possible answers seemed to have their own pitfalls. "As you say, Sorceress."
"Right! Now that the introductions are out of the way - again, shall we go? daylight is burning." Baron Halith opined while stealing some sort of pastry.
the Sorceress frowned. "We are still not a complete party."
The Baron looked to me. "But then who... " His face soured quickly. "Oh, that one."
"Aye, that one," The Count ground out. "And if he does not arrive soon I'll drag him from wherever he hides. Woe to those who impede our sacred mission."
"A trifle too much doom and gloom, good Count," the Sorceress countered. "Besides, our 'sacred mission' as you call it is over, all our young chicks found, as it were."
The last was said with a smile to me, in much the same way as the Baron had with is own words earlier.
I thought to issue a verbal sally of my own. "I must admit, this seems a bit much for one village. Last year there were not half so many, and the year before."
The nobles shared a glance among themselves before Count Warren answered. "In truth, there have been rumors of unrest and banditry in the region, and the Countess here" - He paused to smile again, at the Sorceress this time - "has been ever fond of traveling with as many companions as she could field."
"Flatterer." The sorceress responded, fluttering her eyes. The Count's grin sharpened into something I would take for mocking.
The Sorceress had no time to take offense if such were intended; the little Count, Conrad, entered the green bowed down by a pack larger than mine and sporting mail, for all that it was ill-fitting.
"Ah, and there's our prodigal. You're late, lad. Snatch a quick meal and let us be gone."
"Sorry sir," Conrad replied glumly, head bowed our direction.
"Come here, young sir," The real Count told the false one. "It is time to begin your instruction."
The spectacle was interrupted by the arrival of one Eadric, a young member of the Count's men-at-arms, leading his horse, a formidable looking beast trained for war. I gave the creature a wary eyeful, which it returned.
"My Lady Kath, may I take that for you?" he asked pointing to my bag.
I could do for myself just fine. "Why?"
Eadric stretched out a hand. "It is unseemly, my Lady. You are now one of the gentry yourself, though unlanded as yet, and a noble such as yourself should not be burdened overmuch on a long journey. As I have been assigned you for the duration of such, it would reflect poorly upon me."
I knew the rule of course; all apprentices were to be treated as such. But I had no idea it was to begin so soon.
I handed over my worldly possessions, and Eadric affixed them to his horse with some care. I felt more at ease among the common, for all that he was a soldier. "As long as you don't expect me to ride this beast myself. I know not how, and I dare say he does not like me."
Eadric laughed. "Riding lessons are surely in your future, my Lady, but perhaps not today. As for Gern here, he likes you more than most, for he has yet to try to bite you even once."
The horse showed teeth as if to prove his master's words.
The sound of a step behind me caused me to turn; the Sorceress herself was approaching. Eadric stiffened in salute from beside me.
"That reminds me, young Kath. It is best to begin as early as possible, so with your permission, I would like the chance to teach you at least some of the lessons you may need upon the road, circumstances permitting."
What to say to that? There was nothing, so I inclined my head carefully but quickly.
"Splendid!" She all but cried, no doubt waking more than a few of those slumbering 'round us.
"Mind yourself, Countess!" Count Warren hissed in a whisper that carried itself across the green,
The Sorceress clapped her hands cross her mouth, her cheeks pink.
"Are we ready, Count Warren?"
The Count finished adjusting a buckle on the little count's armor. "We are, Countess."
"Then let us depart - before the good people of the village throw us out."
I wanted to object, we would not do such a thing! But the Count merely laughed. "Aye Countess."
A gesture had two men leading the way on horseback, and the rest formed in behind them to a double line. Eadric mounted and moved his own horse to my side.
"We shall you out on foot, my Lady. However I shall be close and at your disposal, should you need anything."
It was... as odd a thing as I expected, to be considered among the worthy.
"Thank you, sir,"
We started off at a walk and I found myself in the center, just in front of the Sorceress, and I was alone there, surrounded by a wall of horseflesh and metal. The little count was in the rear, listening intently as a man explained something to him, his face purple. Well, they both made a matching purple pair.
I wish I could hear what it was all about, but the jangle of harness and discordant notes of armored men made that impossible. It was no wonder the party needed horses after all; being burdened by so much steel must make walking difficult, at least long walks.
I wondered how I had missed so many armed men at the festival all of yesterday; they had been hidden for much of it, cycled into and out of the throng, but where had they been hidden? Were they bitter over missing the merriment at all, as several had done altogether?
The sun was high in the sky when the Count led the party from the trail to a grassy field with a stream, a place that seemed custom made for meals while on the trail. I was no closer to answers, for all that I felt I could tease the answers myself.
The Sorceress spread a blanket as one of the Count's men - Arglye I think his name was -led her horse away to the stream.
She sat and patted the cloth next to her. "Come Kath, let us eat and discuss the ways of magic."
I turned only to find Eadric already had my bag outstretched.
"Of course, Sorceress."
The Sorceress pouted. "I am beginning to think you have forgotten my name yet again, young Kath,"
"I could never, Sorceress. However, even should I be a noble, present company outranks my humble self, and I do not wish to give offense."
"Oh, but you are a flatterer," the Sorceress replied. "You will go far with such a silver tongue! However, your very wish not to give offense might give it, for the proper address to one such as I is Countess, not Sorceress. Sorceress is a polite title of address to a sorceress you do not know the rank of and is often used by the peasantry as a term of respect to all of our kind.
You, however, will have to be more discerning, for while I do not take offense at such, many might."
The Count Warren bulled his way amongst the grass and sat at the blanket. "She's right lass. Some consider rank to be important."
Spoken as someone who did not understand that rank was very important. Rank determined whether you ate or not and if others ate. Rank determined if others committed a crime against you or not. Speaking of eating, I began myself, my own travel bread would do.
"Rank is important. I apologize."
The Countess waved me off. "I am not so petty as to be offended by a title. I was once as you - but far less well spoken."
"I find that hard to believe, Countess Phine."
"And there is that silver tongue again," The Countess turned to Count Warren. "We were to discuss magic workings, you may stay if you wish?"
The Count shook his head ruefully. "Such talk always makes my mind swim. I think I'll see to the young squire."
The Countess grimaced. "Try to keep the swords clashing to a minimum please, it gets hard to talk over them,"
Count Warren snorted. "There will be no sword-work today until he learns the proper way to hold one."
And then he was gone.
"Well... shall we begin?"
Our meal was complete, it seemed. I was finished anyway.
The Countess removed a wrapped bundle from the small bag at her side, and unwrapped it to reveal... a glass ball?
A perfect sphere of glass with multiple colors shot through it and smoke trapped inside. She held the precious object out to me.
"Take this, and we will work on your first feat of conscious magic."
I took the cloth along with the ball; the Countess allowed it and that option was superior to getting my dirty prints directly on such a precious object.
"Don't be shy, Kath. Cup the ball in both hands." The Countess mimicked the pose she wished me to take, which looked much like the pose the shrine statues had been carved to take in the temple my Father had taken me to the one time we journeyed to Cohnak, many years ago.
I felt briefly sacrilegious.
"That's good Kath. Now, focus on yourself and the globe. You have color within you, and you wish to push that from yourself to the globe, to make it reflect those colors within."
I focused - and felt nothing. For a long moment, until the noise in the clearing began to grow strident with the sounds of departure.
I cracked an eye and told the Countess so, expecting her disappointment. She shrugged my failure away and pressed the globe back into my hands. "Keep it, and keep practicing. This is but a simple thing that one can do anywhere, even walking upon the road. As long as one keeps their eyes open, of course."
Eadric had already claimed my bag, so I, in turn, claimed the blanket, shaking it out and returning it to its owner as free of dirt as I could manage.
She thanked me and moved off to mount her horse.
"Alright, your turn," Eadric said.
He was cupping his armored hands below the saddle of his horse. "Some find it difficult to mount, and you admitted earlier you've never ridden before."
"So the lessons begin."
"They do should you wish it." He answered.
I stepped into his hands in response; my weight proved no issue for him, and I found myself on his mount's back. Gern, for his part, looked less than impressed with these proceedings, and I was certain that only the firm hand of his master upon the reins prevented disaster.
"We shall start at a slow walk, of course. Which method of riding would you prefer to learn?"
There were multiple methods?
"Teach her side saddle, Eadric."
Eadric wore chagrin as a cloak. "Ah, but my lady Countess, that will require the second pommel and..."
The Sorceress merely looked at him.
"...Right away, my lady Countess."
A metal encased hand plumbed the depths of a saddlebag, and a form of hard leather hook was placed over the saddle. Strong hands moved me.
"In order to ride side saddle, which is all the rage at court, one simply shifts one's seat further over the backbone of the horse and places one's right leg into the second pommel here. With the left in the stirrup of course."
I was so adjusted in short order.
"There, remember that pose and keep to it as best you can... lean back a bit. Now take the reins, and give them a snap."
I did so, and the animal in question turned and gave me such a look of profound reproach I almost slid from his back.
Eadric gave the beast a gentle slap on the shoulder. "Gern behave, she's learning."
Gern shook himself and went rigid, staring straight ahead.
Eadric shook his head. "Try again, my Lady."
Another snap of the reins and Gern started forward, at a slow walk. I quickly found myself leaning so as not to fall; there was a roll I had not seen involved in riding, a hitch in the gait of the horse, and I had not anticipated such.
Eadric stayed close, ready to lift a steadying hand or grab the reins should Gern decide he preferred to run.
I clearly heard laughter from behind me as we started off, followed quickly by what could only be a blow. I dared not turn to see, but the laughter had sounded much like that of the little count Conrad.
"Don't worry about that, my Lady. Other lessons are being learned."
Should I inquire? Yes, I should. "Why does Conrad journey with us, can you say?"
"I can. His father has decided that Conrad should learn the art of war or of peace. To that end, he now rides with Count Warren, one of the strongest and most wise knights of the realm. Conrad himself will determine which path to take by the time we reach the capital. An informed choice at Count Warren's able hands, to be sure."
I could almost feel for the little count; after the coming of age, the Count Vasrun decided the best use of his third son was either as a priest of the Goddess or as a man-at-arms, and so cast him out to make his own fate. Without title or land, he was no better than a well-educated commoner. At least he was allowed his name, a probable safeguard on the Count Vasrun's part against war or illness.
"Don't worry about Conrad," Eadric exclaimed. "Some of us were third sons as well, or even fourth! We turned out alright."
"Do you have the gift yourself then?" I asked him.
"Heavens no, else you'd be seeing me in a dress. A dress made of mail, of course. But no, you were as glass. Anyone with an ounce of heart would be.Conrad has some hard lessons ahead of him, but he will be given the best chance under Count Warren's care."
"That is comforting," I told him - and it was.
Gern the unfriendly bucked, just a bit, and I had to return my attention lest I be dropped painfully into the dirt.
Not a single event, as it turned out. Gern had a good grasp of his surroundings for a horse; every time my attention was on anything other than him, the beast tripped on a stone, or rolled a shoulder, or pulled up suddenly, and I had to adjust myself or have a repast of road soil. Eadric was invariably studying our surroundings during such, and so saw nothing.
By late afternoon, I'd had enough. "Let me down sir, please."
Eadric looked at the sun a moment. "I guess it's about time. Can you find your own way down? Dismounting properly is important."
I swung my leg off the pommel, my other leg from the stirrup, and slid down. Gern snorted and shifted, but despite his efforts, I landed upon my feet.
"Well, that is indeed one way. Perhaps not the best way, however."
"And what way would you dismount, sir?"
"Well, from that option, I would swing down as you had done, and kick out, shifting myself so I faced the horse and keeping a grip on the first pommel so the animal cannot shift away from me."
That seemed more involved than I wished to be. Eadric mounted and Gern the unfriendly gave me a stare as if to say that all was now right with the world. If that was his thought, my backside agreed with him.
I was certain I preferred walking.
Eadric leaned down, and I was treated to the sight of Gern adjusting to the change naturally. "Do not worry - riding will be easier for you when you get your own horse and saddle, rather than relying on ones made for others."
I just nodded and picked up my feet; our little stop was in danger of lengthening our line of march, and I did not wish the responsibility for that. I'd as soon walk, however. Horses were temperamental beasts, it seemed, and too costly besides; I'd never have the gold to waste on such. So unless the crown wished to gift me one (a fanciful dream and no more) the skill to ride would wither after this journey.
I busied myself with a survey of our surroundings; we were nearing the border of the world I'd seen. By dusk, we had crossed it, the small stream that marked the border of the Count's territory. We stopped on the far bank, and the Count levered himself from the saddle with a sigh that I felt I understood.
"We will camp here, upon the road. Lady Kath, are we likely to impede traffic if we do so?"
I inclined my head. "No, Count Warren. The harvest will not be ready for travel yet, and so the wagons are still a day or more away. With our animals rather than horses, the pace will also be slower. None visit us from Bithal, the next village, as they are busy same as we. We could camp here another day besides, and not impede any traffic."
Not that there was much visitation in the best of times; the lords frowned upon it, or indeed travel of any kind between their domains.
Count Warren nodded. "As to be expected. Here we are on Baron Bithal's land if by only a hair, and his hospitality and patrols both are legendary."
"Do you fear bandits, Count Warren?" I asked.
"Bandits are always a concern, Lady Kath... but most know well enough to leave the Sorceress or Apprentices alone, and indeed will move quickly in the other direction should either be spotted. Few wish to risk the direct wroth of the King. But no, bandits are not a concern for this well-armed company; foreign powers have been known to... meddle, however, and a good dozen of the King's own as escort go far in preventing such mischief."
"Other kingdoms interfere with the choosing?" I could not fathom it.
"It has happened before." The Countess admitted.
"And seems to happen more of late, especially at the border towns,"Count Warren added. "However you need not fear."
You would be hard-pressed to find another village closer to the border of the kingdom than Vard. The choosing rite was also well known throughout the lands and occurred at the same date every year. I had heard that some other nations mimicked the rite in hopes that the luck showered upon us by the Goddess would divert to them in some small fashion; Hastelan boasted the most numerous and strongest school of magic in the land, such that we had stayed free for generations untold despite being invaded by others many times.
If it would happen to this party, then it would happen. The border guard was strong to protect against invasion from the Ostrok empire, so it would be difficult for them, short of a full invasion. At least, around the Count Vasrun's lands; I knew not of the others.
"Come, Lady Kath. It is time to continue your training."
The Countess had the blanket spread upon the ground again. "Shouldn't I help set up camp?"
Eadric led his horse by. "Not at all, Lady Kath. The men and I have it handled; your job is to learn, and learn quickly."
The Countess pulled an item I recognized with dread from her nearby bag. "Tell me, Lady Kath; can you read?"
"A few words only. My father did not know all the letters himself. Shouldn't I practice the concentration you showed me earlier?"
The Countess patted the blanket. "Not at all; that is something to be done on your own, whenever possible - such as when walking carefree as a bird in the midst of an armed party sent to secure your safety. For now, you learn something you must, and something which cannot be learned on one's own.
I sat; I could only be made the fool this way once.
The countess opened the book. "Now, say every word you know to me."
I woke with the Sun, stretching carefully as the light brightened enough to see. The camp was already stirring on its own. I carefully turned my head and met the gaze and impish smile of the Countess Phine. Said gaze and smile were very close.
I could not suppress my startlement, however, I managed to avoid giving offense by shout or scramble.
The Countess thrust our her bottom lip. "Good morn, lady Kath."
"Good morn, Countess Lirisphine."
We were alone on the Countess's padded blanket, accommodations that were more comfortable than the cold ground upon which it lay. Another such blanket was atop us to ward the morning chill.
I rose to find the others also greeting the dawn. Most were more surly at it, however.
"Ugh, Lady Kath, how can you be awake this early?" Eadric asked with a yawn.
"I could ask you the same," I stated.
"My answer will doubtless be different than yours, however, Lady Kath. For I... stood watch in the small hours to ensure that we would be safe. Therefore I did not truly wake with the dawn."
"Verily, Lady Kath shows good sense in rising early; there is much to be admired about such habits, which all peasants share," The Countess Phine stated with prim weight loading her words.
I was unaware a watch had been set.
"Is there aught I may do to help?"
Eadric gazed upon the camp. "Focus on your learning. Mundane camp chores are not the province of quality. I and the Count's men will see to things."
Speaking of the Count, he was still abed in his pallet and judging from the soft snores, still asleep as the camp revived itself around him. I could not fathom how.
His new squire, the little count, was making the bracing morning tea favored by most in the kingdom as a common cure for minor ailments like morning malaise' I resolved to stay away from it, for he was doing a poor job of the task.
One of the soldiers gave what appeared to be a gentle kick, but the little count fell over from the impact, almost landing within the fire. "Too much mandra root, squire. You'll make the brew as a syrup."
The little count muttered something but replied: "Thank you, sir."
Which drew him another rebuke, this one hissed with venom: "Quiet! Your master deserves his sleep."
The Countess Phine drew up beside me, watching. "You know, we also could have stayed abed. We were up quite late with very hard work."
I had found the learning tedious, but not difficult. There was error in such a confession, however.
"I could not," was the best answer I could provide without offense.
The Countess Phine hum'd and stated: "You will learn. Some of our duties require us to be awake when all honest folk are abed. But perhaps it is too soon for such sloth. Now, can you show me how well you've learned? The ball or the book, as you please."
I chose the ball, as all her lessons promptly fled at her urging that I repeat them.
I tried to shut the world away, to feel what the Countess wanted me to feel, but I could not. I finally admitted failure when Eadric walked his demon horse to me.
"It's time to go, Lady Kath."
The Countess stood, her book in hand. "Do not worry young Kath, you will find it. I've never known one to get the calling and fail this task."
That was a comfort. "Thank you for your kind words, Countess."
"Come, Lady Kath. Today Gern and I decided you were to ride first."
Gern looked as if he came to no such conclusion.
"Come Lady Kath, I will be guiding him; he will not hurt you."
My backside said otherwise. But I climbed upon the demon's back; duty was what it was.
Eadric slung my bag again, but I kept my canteen and the globe, and in turn, the globe kept my focus for some time.
I felt something. I knew not what it was, but there was something. By the time Gern stopped in the road, I was certain of it.
"Come lady Kath, it is time for the noon meal." Gern, for his part, gave a warning buck.
"Certainly." I slid from the animals back. There was a moment of clumsiness as Eadric attempted not to touch the ball still in my hand; he recovered and caught my canteen instead.
I, on the other hand, managed to catch myself; this time the demon beast did not move to spill me to the ground.
"That was cruel, Lady Kath." Eadric accused, levering himself to his feet.
"I am sorry Sir Eadric, but I do not understand."
I reached out to help him; he ignored the attempt.
"No, Lady Kath, I am in mail and while I am sure you are quite strong, you cannot support my weight."
He then gave me a piercing stare. "You do not know what offense you've given, do you?"
"I do not." I was forced to admit.
One of the other armsmen laughed and said: "Tis the orb in your hand, Lady. Some fear to touch the baubles of power for fear it may take what all they are very attached to. A silly superstition, I had not counted Eadric among such august ranks, but it seems I was wrong."
That made some sense; I would have refused also, before. "My apologies then, Sir Eadric. I meant no offense or ill will."
Eadric struck his helm once, sharply; it made a wonderful note. "Now, none of that. My apologies for such behavior. I grew up in a village not unlike your own, and while I have grown more worldly, the teachings of the past oft prove hard to leave there."
And then he sank to one knee in a clatter. I felt more than the sun's heat upon my face. "Please get up, Sir Eadric."
"Not until you forgive me, Lady Kath."
"You are forgiven then. Please be more courteous in the future."
Eadric looked up, his face earnest. "I shall endeavor to do so, Lady Kath."
"You may start by rising, as you are causing a delay." Indeed everyone in the party was now watching us. Some with more amusement than others.
"So it would seem," Eadric stated without remorse, rising swiftly and securing my belongings. "Up you go, Lady Kath."
I was able to get upon Gern without direct help, and seated myself to the Countess Phine's tastes.
"We should make the hamlet of Lelix later this afternoon, Lady Kath. Have you been there before?"
As a child I had passed through the town on pilgrimage with my father; I would not call it a 'hamlet.' "I have once. There was no purpose in any further visits."
"The pilgrimage then?" The Count Warren asked.
I nodded. "We are devout, my father and I."
"Good lass," The Count approved. "All should make the pilgrimage, even once."
I could not disagree, though I could count some among those I knew who had not. Perhaps my emergence and the proofs of such would bring those into the capital.
"We will not arrive, if we do not set out," The Countess Phine stated curtly from her own horse.
The Count Warren winced. "You are correct, Countess. Let us be about leaving then. Move out!"
There was a scramble as the Count's men jumped to obey. For my part, I focused on my own duty, and the ball once again in my hand.
The globe promptly changed color in response, from it's multiple colored surface to brown shot with some shades of green. It appeared as nothing more than a ball of gently moving mud.
"Pardon, Countess Phine. Is this normal? Was this what you expected?" I showed her the orb; it no longer glinted in the sunlight.
The Countess all but fell from her horse. She recovered rapidly, however, and moved her horse so close Gern tried to shy. "Did you feel anything?"
"No, I did not. I simply took the globe and it changed as soon as my mind was upon it," I of a sudden was no longer willing to confess that I had felt something the night before.
"Well the colors are good, they are very good," The Countess exclaimed. "Do you know what they mean?"
I simply looked at her. How was I to know that? I hadn't even known the colors could change. Hadn't I been attempting to summon light from within it?
"Ah. Well, the colors correspond to the type of power used; and in this case, they would suggest what type of power you is most natural to you. It has attuned itself to you, and far more quickly than I thought possible."
So... that was good, right? "And what are the ramifications of this?"
The Countess promptly pulled away. "Ah... I do not wish to taint your understanding, so it is best I say nothing in regards to such. However, I can say that nothing bad can come of this. By all means, please continue; try to change the color or use the bauble to create light, if you can. Focus on the feeling you have for such."
A simple thought caused the stone to change to gray, and the Countess Phine's breath caught. I felt the sensation as light spilled forth... for a moment. Then it grew dark and as mud again.
"Ah, do not pout my dear Lady Kath; you are learning quite quickly," the Countess replied to my sigh, before holding out her book. "I think we shall switch to reading, as it will be far more useful than you suspect very soon."
I took it. "As you say."
"Now if you will read aloud please, from the start."
I did so, with the Countess correcting my errors. At least once I heard laughter at my failure of understanding, from the back of our line, followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground.
Some time later and many pages in the light faded, just as the 'hamlet' of Lelix.
It was far larger than I remembered; with a palisade and what must be fifty homes or more. The main road was raised above the mud, and made of split logs with no sign of rot. The people out and about, hurrying to some errand or another were more richly dressed than most commoners I had seen and bore an important air.
There was bunting placed upon the palisade, and festive decorations lining the homes and places of work. The Blacksmith, a large man with a fearful demeanor, had almost buried his smithy under such. His face cracked into a smile as I walked by. All moved aside and watched us pass, and many fell in behind us as we passed.
We stopped at the green before the inn, before some richly dressed older folk sporting wide smiles. The one who stepped forward was an older man, just beginning to gray and wrinkle. He was dressed in multi-hued garments, both shirt and hose, and wore gleaming black boots.
"Welcome back Countess, Count. I see that your mission was a success. While it grieves me that our humble town could not provide you with our own, it pleases me to know you need not return empty-handed.
"I've no doubt of the sincerity of your words and that of your people, good mayor. You have always provided for us, and will do so again. But for now, let the festivities commence at your earliest convenience."
Festivities? What festivities were these? The selection was already over. Eadric standing beside me, saw my confusion and whispered: "In the rest of the kingdom, the selection festival continues until the newly discovered sorceresses return to the capital. So while your village only celebrates a day, others can celebrate for many."
But that would mean for some the gaiety could last a ten-day or even more!
"And who might our new champion of the realm be? I must admit I do not recognize the face."
The mayor's stare was piercing, and his hands were slathered in grease.
I hesitated, and the Countess answered for me. "This is young Kath Thorinson, from Vard."
"Of course, how does the day find you, young Lady Kath?" The smile on the man strained around my name.
His bow was genuine. "I am pleased to meet you, Mayor..."
"Rett." The Countess whispered.
"...Rett." I finished as smoothly as possible.
The mayor politely ignored the fiction. His bows to the Countess Phine and Count Warren were deeper, of course. And in at least one occasion completely ignored.
"I'll take your innkeeper's best rooms, Mayor. Please see to the feast arrangements as well."
Thus ordered directly, even a worthy like the mayor could not refuse. "I'll see to it, Count Warren."
His seeing to it consisted of hurried whispers to the other villagers behind him. They moved with alacrity, and soon we had chairs, heavy ornate things, placed to our rear on a raised platform pieced together from close-fitting smaller parts. There were three chairs in the center, with several others left to the slightly lower sides of the arrangement.
The Countess guided me to her left while Count Warren took her right; Eadric sat to my left and put on a stern visage, all but glaring at those scurrying about, and Halith took Count Warren's right, his alert gaze passing over those on that side of the green and beyond.
The mayor slid past and into a chair under Halith's gaze with a woman who could be the village wise woman... or his wife; I could not be sure.
On the other side of Eadric, the blacksmith sat, still ruddy from the forge. He ducked his head in deference as my gaze met his. It was only a hiss from Eadric that stopped my instinctive but incorrect response. The smith was much larger than expected at this distance.
At least the good smith did not look uneasy in my presence.
A moment later another man sat next to the smith, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by. He was a young man but tanned and lined, and dressed in forest green. He had a large knife at his belt and no other weapons, but he walked with the easy grace that I'd learned marked a warrior. From the way Eadric sized him and the way he ignored it, a skilled warrior.
Or perhaps an arrogant one.
"Good day, Lady. I hope you enjoy the hospitality of Lelix, and remember us fondly upon the end of your journey."
"I am certain that I will, Sir. I am Kath Thorinson, may I ask who you are, to offer such well wishes?"
I must not have tripped over myself overmuch there, as neither Eadric or Countess Phine attempted to correct my speech.
"Ah, how rude of me Lady Thorinson, my apologies. I am Alif, a craftsman of this town. I have a pottery kiln, know my way around both ax and adze, and manage a shop. In my spare time, I have been known to seek out game at our Lord's pleasure."
He left out a significant part of his past, I felt sure.
"And I am Xil the smith," The smith stated after a pause. "If you would like any metal work done, I would be happy to provide, free of charge."
I looked to the large man's ruddy face and knew I could not trouble him so. "Thank you, good smith, but my needs are quite small and have been met for the moment. Should that change, I will, of course, come to you. Alif, you mentioned work as a woodcutter; do you perhaps know my father, Donja?"
"Ah, as I thought. I do indeed know your father, Lady Thorinson. In truth many here do, if only by reputation alone."
That sounded ominous. "Do you know him by reputation alone, sir?"
Alif sat back with a small smile. "I do not. I have in fact met your father - he provided some advice on how to best work wood which even now I have engraved upon my heart. He helped me more than he knew on his way to settle in Vard, with a tiny bundle that could only be you strapped to his back. We met a few times since then to discuss business matters."
"I have met the man as well," Xil the smith said. "But only the once. He seemed a fine one to me."
Should I, or should I not. I decided not, as I had no memory of this man. I would find another way and failing that, the mail service in the kingdom had a long and storied history of being most reliable in their treatment of parcels.
The tables were placed in front of us by men of the village without a word; men who were less brilliantly dressed than those which greeted us. Men who left as soon as it was possible to do so without giving offense or stirring the alarm. They returned with tables for themselves, a sight I was relieved to see.
Women with much the same demeanor came after, laying out large crockware plates upon which heaps of food sat; it was a wonder none of the elegantly painted finery broke under the strain.
Conrad appeared, loaded with crockery himself, and placed plates and silverware before us, with myself first. He averted his gaze from my own and said not a word. Eadric on the other hand had much to say:
"That's a good lad, Conrad. Bring us all some wine, will you?"
I looked to the center table, they already had plates and cups themselves, and were discussing some heated matter among themselves; the mayor seemed hesitant to add is opinion. I could not hear more than the occasional word myself due to the angle of certain heads and the noises of revelry.
Conrad left, but his grumbling as he departed I heard well enough. Eadric ignored it, however, so I did as well.
The generalities of the situation made me uneasy, however. "Shouldn't Squire Conrad be serving his master?"
"Of course," Eadric replied. "And he will. But unfortunately there are a shortage of quality willing to serve at table, and as young Conrad needs to practice, the duty to serve us all is his alone tonight."
"I see." That did not bode well for someone, Conrad had a vile temper. But he could not act upon such impulses among present company for obvious reasons. That would have to be check enough.
Conrad soon returned with large jacks filled with honey-mead and plates of meats, cheeses, and fruits. The meat was a still steaming cut of succulent diffyr mixed with paka, with not a fish to be seen. The cheese was cawa, a sharp aged cheese which I had only seen twice before. The fruit was a much more local apa; expensive but easily found.
"I apologize, it seems our hosts are out of wine, the best I could uncover was a honey mead from the local distillery set for shipment to the capital."
Eadric scowled at him but winked as Conrad bowed his head. "It will have to do, I suppose. How say you, Lady?"
I had never had honey mead before; the jack before me contained a month of my father's wages. "Truthfully I have no knowledge of the vintage."
Conrad made a noise that could have been a cough. Eadric ignored it, so I did as well. "You are in for a treat then, Lady. The honey makes the drought smooth, even at lower temperatures; there is no bitterness at all."
It was true, but the brew was potent. More potent than anything in my experience, though the extent was yet to be determined. I resolved to let my father's example guide me and stay at one jack lest I be useless tomorrow. The diffyr was roasted to perfection and rubbed with herbs to bring out flavor. Chasing a bite of the meat down with a slice of apa proved a wonderful experience, which was made more favorable when the cawa was added.
Using the knife and fork kept the lion's share of the mess from one's hands and lips. I would have wished for a slice of bread to sop up the juices, but a glance told me none other at table was doing such, and I had no wish to trouble Conrad with a personal request; he was among us to serve, refilling jacks and fetching dishes as asked, but his face was thunderous.
I was beginning to doubt his face could be anything else, as he had run out of children to torment.
Perhaps that was uncharitable of me. I should strive to better illuminate.
The Mayor cleared his throat. "So, Lady Thorinson, if I may ask without presuming overmuch, why did you decide to join the order?"
"Duty," I answered immediately. Conrad snorted from his corner and Count Warren leveled him a heavy glare.
"Well spoken," The Mayor responded. "We have had a marked shortage of those willing to sacrifice for the kingdom lately. Why, a few short years ago, a man from this very village was selected, and he elected not to answer the call! Can you imagine?"
The Mayor himself looked foreign to sacrifice. "No sir, I cannot."
"Now good Mayor, a man's choice regarding selection is just that; his choice. The reasons of each potential candidate to accept or deny their calling are their own, and to be respected. The kingdom has yet to fall so far as to adopt the policies of the empire."
The mayor paled while I tried to cast about for signs of shame. I found none.
"Countess, I never meant to imply such!" The mayor protested in a scandalized voice that rang genuine to my ears. "I merely sought greater understanding into the motivation of today's youth."
"Then I hope I have provided the insight you sought," I interjected.
"Indeed you have, Lady Thorinson. May you be blessed for such a ready response." The mayor graciously stated before involving himself in his meal once again.
Countess Phine squeezed my thigh gently and gave a smile before following suit.
"So... Thorinson, eh?" The Xil the smith probed.
"Indeed sir, I am of the line of Thorin, as my father before me." My ancestors were in many of the tales of the kingdom's early years - a time of mighty deeds and wonders long past.
"To your health then, lass. An honorable line, and one I am glad to see still survives." The Smith raised his jack and I did likewise. We drank to the survival and death of a line.
"Good health, and long life, Lady Thorinson." Alif said, and we drank to that as well. Afterward, the conversation turned to more personally pleasant topics.
Dawn broke. I woke to find myself surrounded by bodies. The bodies were not those of my fellow revelers, but instead of two young ladies no doubt in their finest dresses who were to tend my needs during my stay in this, the second best room the town could offer me, that of the chief's himself.
Both had taken a spot upon the large bed at my insistence, and were currently at better ease than I. My head fairly swam under heady scents and the remains of the wine from the night before.
A perfect time to practice with the orb, truth told.
I hid it under the thick blankets which no one should have on any bed in the middle of the harvest season, no matter how soft it was or cool the room stood in the evenings. A matter with which I disagreed with my host.
It proved as hard as expected to merge my thoughts into a whole and send them into the ball, but I managed briefly before a gentle knock came upon the door.
"Lady Kath, are you awake?" Eadric whispered to me from beyond.
"I am," I stated, placing the ball back upon the nightstand I had retrieved it from as the ladies woke with assorted murmurs. "The door is not locked."
First one then the other girl snapped to, faces aflame.
"Sorry, I cannot enter Lady Kath, unless you are in distress. It would not be decent." Eadric said. "You are not in distress, are you Lady Kath?"
I eyed the two girls. They kept their gaze firmly ahead and above me. "No Eadric, I am not."
"Right then. The morning meal is ready downstairs. I shall see you below at your pleasure."
I wondered how long Eadric had been outside, and if he had heard me stirring. The door was a solid one, and I certainly had heard none pass in the night.
"Lady Kath, do you require us for anything?" Hissa, the more forward of the girls asked. She had offered to launder my garments last night, to our mutual chagrin.
"No, thank you, you may both leave."
They curtseyed and all but fled, duty well done with none the wiser. After all, I would say nothing.
I began packing as the door shut, taking care to check each item. I missed nothing of my own. In fact, there was the addition of a two charms, both sprigs of Hilas, for fortune under change. From the scent, both were fresh.
The door creaked as I opened it; no one was waiting beyond the portal. I shrugged my pack on and tested the stairs. They were more solid than last night.
My companions were in the common room, at table with the mayor and village worthies, and kitchen staff comprised of older women serving them.
All conversation ceased as I appeared. "I apologize for interrupting."
"Not at all, Lady Kath," Countess Lirisphine responded. "Please join us. We were just discussing the state of the roads ahead."
"Yes, I was just saying the road should be clear and packed hard, as the last rain was a week ago," the man Alif stated with authority.
Something we already knew. That anyone with sense already knew. "That is good. It should be a boon to harvest trade."
"Indeed, indeed," The mayor repeated, nodding.
I met the gazes of my company and shrugged. If they wanted me to know, then they would discuss it. The Countess and Eadric both wasted no time looking elsewhere, but Count Warren nodded slightly.
Halith brushed past me. "The horses are ready, Countess."
"Right, thank you Halith."
I wasted no more time, sitting in the nearest vacant seat. The good women of Lelix wasted no time either, filling a plate heaping with bread and gravy, and fresh aspertus and setting the feast before me.
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but there is no way in all the heavens I can eat all of this."
The kind server smiled. "Do the best you can, Lady Kath. The remainder shall in no way go to waste.
That did little to ease my mind, but I refrained from stating as much, preferring to match action to words.
Aspertus fresh from someone's garden; it had been some time since I'd had such.
The talk was about small, safe matters such as the weather and the exact numbers of the harvest. I paid careful attention nonetheless, even as I stayed silent and filled my belly.
I did do admirable work of the plate before me, though a distressing amount remained. I did not let the Aspertus waste at the least.
Halith moved his chair near. "Lady Kath, what troubles you?"
"Is it obvious?" It must be so.
"A little. Come and walk with me, if you are finished."
I was.
The air outside was fresh and smelled of a blend of freshly gathered crops, and the morning sun was bright. Halith struck out for the green and I followed.
The green was empty but still bore the scars and trappings of the night before. I was at least grateful to see none had spent their evening in the dew, or had at least moved on to healthier climes upon waking.
Halith scanned the space as I had and finding it to his liking, he turned to me. "Now Lady Kath, please won't you tell me what troubles you?"
"All this. These people have given of their food and of themselves to me. I ate a meal which might have served on of the field hands in better stead, and spent my first night in a bed surrounded by girls who seemed petrified that I would take offense at some slight." I did not know how to explain. How could I explain to one born of wealth?
"Ah," Halith replied, sinking to a knee. "I thought it might be that."
He sighed and looked me in the eye. "I mean no offense, but I will make a wager; you have always given of yourself freely and without hesitation."
Thinking back, I could not refute him.
He saw it, and nodded to himself. "I thought so. Lady Kath, in harvest seasons past, was it not your pride to give as you were able to the sorceresses who visited? Was it not your villages pride? A noble must accept the well wishes and gifts of the peasantry, not with dark emotion but with grace. It is a peasant's pride to take care of one who sacrifices their very lives for the kingdom on their behalf. Carrying the hope and will of the kingdom is your lot now."
"I know all that... but the knowledge makes none of this easier. I can do for myself. I am used to doing for myself. It seems a waste."
"Only time will tell if that is true," Halith replied soberly. "If you do well, then none of the sacrifice great or small which came before nor any sacrifice in the future will be wasted."
I admired Halith's honesty, even as I cursed the blunt speech for the yoke it settled on my shoulders.
Halith tousled my hair. "That's a good lass - you're thinking. Come, let us rejoin the others and help harry them to the road. I know Count Warren will wish to tarry for the wine is most potent."
He stood and I followed as he headed back to the inn, my thoughts falling upon the wine. It had been most useful in loosening tongues, my own included. Count Warren had proven quite the bard under it's influence, recounting battles and glories past.
"Now let us speak of happier subjects. How go your studies? I have been too busy scouting of late to see the fair Countess instruct you."
"You have missed little, sir. Aside from my fumbling at letters."
Halith turned to me and leaned down again, whispering. "Truly, letters are instruments of confuddlement. I myself can only just decipher many of them, and my own scribblings will never be deemed prose of the ages. Should you manage as much after a season, you may be deemed one of the most brilliant minds in the kingdom!"
"You are a base flatterer sir, and I am inclined to dismiss every word you utter." I whispered back.
"Only half," He replied in his normal tone. "Deciding which half to trust will stand you in good stead for the games ahead."
"Oh Halith, don't say such things, you'll frighten her away." A voice from beyond the opening inn door scolded; the Countess emerged with an austere gait and expression at odds with her warm smile.
I stepped aside as first she then my other companions emerged. Eadric came nearly last, with both his and my bag of belongings slung over his shoulders. He stopped and motioned me to step in line as a sullen Conrad exited the inn at our rear.
I made sure to step in front of Eadric; judging from the hay on his fine clothes Conrad had spent the night not in a bed, but a hayloft. A nice warm place to while away a night to be sure, but it seemed the good squire had not been impressed.
"Unfortunately, the good folk of Lelix had no spare horse or even donkey for us to borrow or buy."
"My feet weep at the missed opportunity," I informed him primly.
"Hah! Well said. You'll just have to continue to grace Gern with your bottom."
"My bottom prefers my feet," I informed him, sliding to the side and removing my knife from it's pouch in my pack. I could use it for fine detail, and I was - had been a fair piece from learning all my father knew of such subjects.
I very much felt the need to practice such skills today; my letters and orb could wait.
"Well in deference to your bottom I'll take the first shift with the mighty Gern. What is that you have there?"
"A knife used for work in Carpentry."
"Looks just like any other." Eadric commented idly as I bent down and scooped an errant branch up. It was Whil and promised a fair bit of stretch, likely from that tree over past the stable. How had it gotten here?
"It is, I suppose. The difference lies mainly within the mind." I pruned the branch down until I had a manageable length.
"Right. Are you able do such things while you walk?" Eadric asked.
My look was to be scathing, but Eadric seemed to dismiss it. "I am the child of a carpenter, sir, and almost full grown. I will not injure myself in the attempt."
"Ah, but will not the branch be injured?" Eadric countered.
I shrugged. "That remains to be seen of course; I am not the artist my father is."
Conrad snorted loudly.
"I look forward to your efforts then." Eadric answered, sending a black look behind us.
Conrad kept silent.
We reached the stable; I stayed back as the party moved to their animals, checking girths and hooves and uttering gentle words to the creatures. There was little I could add to such activity. I did pay some attention however; I knew so little of how to deal with beasts of burden that any information was both welcome and useful.
The knowledge of the morning seemed to be that bribes seemed to be most effective, and that horses did like sweets. Perhaps I should ask the Countess how her mount was of a normal size.
Under my other efforts, a form began to take shape; with that form came an idea, and I nurtured both unwatched, as was best.
Soon we were all out and upon the road between an honor guard of the good citizens of Lelix, amid cheers and well wishes.
I modeled my behavior from the Countess, who gazed straight ahead with a smile and every so often exclaimed gracious thanks.
The village soon passed behind and the people there returned to their every day.
The road was ours alone; no carts or wagons were yet loaded with the harvest. They would likely join us later today, taking the excess harvest to market and paying their yearly taxes.
The next hub of civilization along the road was a town larger still - Forsworth. Named after an old knight in the early days of the kingdom, it was an old border town with centuries of history. It was also a walled city, and a center of trade thanks to every road save the one we were traveling down.
It was also two days of fast travel from Lelix, or many days at the pace of a cart. I looked forward to the scenery.
"Alright, your turn Lady Kath."
I looked up from my wooden focus and found hours had passed; had I kept pace or had they? No matter.
Eadric stood before me, his hands steepled, with Gern behind him showing teeth in the promise of pain. With a sigh I mounted, trying to spare Eadric as much of the road dust my shoes had gathered as possible.
He dusted off my failure and pointed to my project. "You might have to stop for now."
I brandished the knife in clear warning at the beast balefully staring back at me. "I will not. If Gern decides to frisk as he did yesterday, this knife might slip, however, and find itself a new home in a very tender place."
It wasn't a very big knife after all, and would cause no lasting damage. Gern rolled his eyes, showing the whites, and turned, starting off at a gentle pace that barely rolled at all.
"It seems you've had a breakthrough in human/animal relations, Lady Kath, though not one I'm sure I appreciate."
"Relax, Sir Eadric. Gern is not in any danger," It would be a poor repayment of the knight for all his service to harm his trusty steed, after all. "But clearly the animal takes me for a fool. I observe as well as any other, and he walks differently with you upon his back."
"That is true enough. He also understands the nuanced language of violence."
"So all he wanted was the threat itself?" Clearly I would need to ponder my long held beliefs on the intelligence of animals.
Eadric shrugged theatrically. "Who can say? I know not the mind of beasts. That would make me a sorceress after all."
"I know them not either." I protested.
"It seems so, yet there are some sorceresses that know all of the animal kingdom, and indeed know the bears and wolves of the kingdom by their first names," Eadric claimed.
I had never heard of such, and I told him so.
"Ah but you have - for all the kingdom has heard the tale of Tamer Miriam."
"Oh? But the stories told don't state she was a sorceress." At the very least, none I'd heard had.
"Correct, but her very own journal does. It is a rare trait among your kind is all, and not well reported upon. Perhaps you'll be the next one, eh? Tamer of beasts and defender of the kingdom?"
"I am sure that such is not the case."
My hands almost fumbled flipping the block of wood, now recognizably a figure of a sort, over.
Eadric crowded closer. "Oh, I recognize it now. You are more talented than you intimated."
As he smiled an arrow bloomed in his chest with a hiss, as if conjured there. Around me others fell, and a horse screamed and reared.
Eadric's voice was pained but shockingly loud. "Gern, get to safety! Lady Kath, hang on!"
Gern spared not a single glance for his master, but lowered his head and bulled forward; it was all i could do to lower myself and grasp his neck for dear life.
Arrows flew all around me, but none ventured close. The air filled with screams and curses, the scent of blood and something else. It all passed rapidly behind me as I tried not to break my head open upon rock or low branch. Gern seemed to have no idea where he was to go, weaving from side to side and even off the road between strides.
"Stop you fool beast! We need to go back and help your master," Of course Gern did not; if anything, he sped up. Perhaps that was for the best; I had little idea what I could do to help in what was clearly an attack. I did not know how to use a sword, and what little I knew of mending wounds would be useless.
Still the fool beast would break his leg and kill us both as this speed.
Horses thundered behind me. Had my party followed our example, despite how few had been mounted? I risked twisting for a glance.
No, they had not. The horses behind me were fresh and bore men I did not recognize. Six in all, whip thin and dressed in black garments of an unfamiliar cut, they rode their steeds with enviable grace while hunched almost as low as myself. Each had a bow and a sword visible, though their quivers were nearly empty. The bows stayed slung.
As calmly as I could I whispered in Gern's ear. "They are not friendly, and they are gaining."
Gern's ears flicked into my face and his speed doubled as he abandoned his meandering. The other riders soon lost ground. Even then, no arrows flew.
But as long as we were on the road, those riders would be able to find us. I had no idea how fresh those mounts were, but I was willing to bet they were rested, and though my weight was slight, that vision I'd stolen whispered to me of confident speed.
I was not the one in charge of the situation, however. The reins might as well have been woven of gossamer for all the impact they had.
No sooner had I given up all hope when Gern changed direction again, this time into a streambed. He slowed at least, and I risked a look behind us. I saw no evidence of our pursuit. I also saw little evidence in our change of course, dissolving even now under the rapid onrush of clean water.
Gern shook and slowed again, picking his steps carefully. I was finally able to sit up, but found my fingers still firmly entangled in handfuls of mane. Such might have been why my use of the reins was less effective than desired, though Gern had in fact turned the direction I had been pulling... of course I had also been pulling at his hair as well.
Gern cast is ears back and I did the same, listening for the noise of pursuit. But what to do? A simple turn right would lead us back into the woodlands towards friends, but Gern would be unable to run there and should we meet more of the enemy I did not favor our chances. However, each step in another direction brought us further into the unknown, and there was little doubt that if they had not assumed the correct path, the riders in black soon would. There was some space to run along the beach that seemed less treacherous, however the trail would be clear. Away from the stream led to the city, but would I be safe there, where none knew me?
What could I do?
In the end, the choice was clear. I would be expected on the road, for obvious reasons. Perhaps I could use that.
I tried to turn Gern toward the city, and he went readily enough. At least until I led him to a stretch of rock beyond the beach and slid down onto it with my belongings. He stared t me balefully.
"This is where you and I part ways, beast," I told him, and pointed. "That direction. Go."
Gern showed his teeth and waited.
"Now is not the time for this. Your master wished you to protect me, and this is the way to achieve that. Now go."
I stepped back out of range and slapped him on his rump. He snorted and took flight, heading in the proper direction; the noise seemed that of several horses his size. I rapidly picked my away across the stones, back to the beach and into the stream.
With good fortune, the riders would not realize Gern was alone until miles away, and I would be free to rejoin my companions.
A dead branch from the treeline beyond the beach was the perfect tool to erase my wet prints from the sand. It was far from ideal, but it should hold to casual inspection, if the riders came downstream this far.
I was not quite finished when the sounds of pursuit sent me scuttling into the treeline. It grew close and then further away; it seems I needn't have worried after all.
I crept into the gloom, my largest knife in hand; I held no illusions about my ability to protect myself, but I refused to simply surrender if found. The forest was silent, and this far from the site of the attack such silence was not natural.
I strained, but could hear nothing save the wind and myself. Would that I knew how to float. As it was, my only choice was to crackle along as silent as possible. I was certain I made no more noise than a rampaging Draffitz.
The commune with nature was silent and overall, dreadfully boring. I pondered rejoining the road for the sake of speed, but banished the thought. After all, I was as likely to find my pursuit as my party.
But if memory served, this side of the forest was the origin of our ambush, so I must needs be most careful, even if it were unlikely the attackers were still lingering there. Unless I was much mistaken in their goal.
The trees seemed to sway in a breeze only they felt.
A time later my fortunes changed; I found a diffyr trail aimed the proper direction and was able to abandon stealth for speed. The ability for a peasant to run pell-mell in a forest was a useful skill in our village for a host of reasons. Those among us accounted the best at the skill could do it with little noise, given a trail.
I halted when I heard voices,
"Come on, you black bastards! I'll feed your livers to the crows!" A pained voice I recognized.
From just to my front came a voice I did not recognize. One which was much closer to a whisper than a shout.
"He's still bleeding out; another hour is all he has left to yell, I reckon."
Another voice, this one a whisper ny ears strained to gather. "Shut up, you imbesel. All we need to do is pin them down, which we cannot do if you give our position away. Or how many we are."
This was punctuated by the sound of a longbow loosing an arrow.
The pained shout came instantly. "You missed, whoreson!"
The shouting masked any sounds of my approach.
The armed men were down to pair, it seemed. Both in black, their faces hidden behind veils. Both were close, facing the road, and had bows of unfamiliar construction. There were many arrows between them, and both were loosing at targets I was unable to see at a great speed. To give the illusion of more archers, I supposed.
They certainly weren't wasting any time aiming, a tactic I was grateful for.
Now, how could I do that which I must do? My only weapon was my knife, and it was more suited for carving wood than flesh. What could one such as I do? I had no warrior's training.
I had a spare shirt, and the veils they used gave me a plan.
I timed my movement to the shouts, and took note of them; Eadric knew slurs which would cause a wagoner to blush. While I crept, I removed my shirt and knotted it.
When the far right bowman stood to release, I was ready. His veil was sheer, my shirt was not, and knotted as it was, it went around his entire head easily. I drew it tight, and almost fell as he flailed with a yell. I could ill afford the loss of seconds.
"Vill, help! I can't see!"
The other bowman was already turning, I dashed, but his rough hand closed around my arm like a trap and I was pulled from my feet. His other hand went to his knife, steel much larger than my own, and I thrashed.
"Mar, I got..."
Mar didn't hesitate to hear what Vil had, instead stabbing his own knife at the source of the noise. I was that source, however Vil was between the two of us. Blood flowed from the man's mouth as Mar tore the dagger from his back. He managed to free his face from my shirt in the same moment. Vil's grip relaxed, and I wasted no more time.
"Vil...?"
Mar managed that much before an arrow took him in the throat.
I stumbled out to the road; Eadric was under cover behind a tree, covered in blood with an arrow in his shoulder. He held his sword ready in his left, but lowered it when our eyes met.
"Lady Kath? What are you doing here?"
I rushed to him. There had to be more hidden men than those two. I took note of Halith, a wound in his side, turning to face the other side of the forest with an arrow already set to his bow's string.
"Gern was good enough to draw off my pursuers with a little convincing, and so I was able to circle around."
Eadric stumbled and fell upon his back. "Well, that was quite foolhardy, as decisions go. Gern is quick as the wind, and you could have made the city easily."
At least half the party was here upon the road, in various stages of injury - and death. There were no further arrows falling among us however, though all were taking cover behind regrettably dead horses or shields. I did not need to worry about suddenly sporting such an accessory; if any of our attackers remained, I would be recognized.
"And then what?" I asked him. "No, do not move, you are injured. How would I explain who I am, and my purpose alone, before being taken?"
"No, leave the arrow in, Lady Kath. Simply bandage around it. Quickly now, I believe Halith also needs such attention. And I must admit you raise a valid concern."
"It seems as if everyone might need attention of a sort." I scoffed. It wasn't as if anyone else would be overlooked should they break cover.
I did not see Count Warren, nor the Countess, and my inner tally revealed a hand of men also missing.
"Where is the Count and Countess?"
Eadric raised his arm and pointed forward. "They broke the seige and went looking for you. Our friends out there also split, some before to chase you, and some after to harry them. Do not worry, Sorceress or not, the Countess will not be easily beaten."
I missed a crucial piece of the riddle earlier, it seemed. "The enemy had a sorceress?"
"Aye, she attacked after you we saw you safely away. It was her who overcame Halith there. Speaking of, if you can you should see to him."
I knotted my bandage. "I shall now, you rest here and keep your eyes on the trees. Shout vulgarities should you see the enemy."
Eadric winced. "You heard that, did you?"
"The many curses masked my approach."
"There is no need to inform the gentry of such, should you wish to tell the tale of your harrowing escape - is there?"
His pleading tone gave me pause. I was unsure how to answer, and so did not.
Halith was well beyond my meager bandage talents, lying at pained ease in the middle of the road, his guts beginning to spill from his trunk. I gave up the last of my now mutilated shirt to the cause; The man watched me work in silence, his eyes sharp and fingers clenched around his creaking bow.
One of the Count's soldiers stood, shield at the ready. "I think they're gone. Even wounded as we are, they can't leave cover to come at us, and their main group won't know Lady Kath is here unless they send a messenger. They wouldn't have enough to stand against us."
No arrow came for him, so perhaps he was right.
Slowly, others rose up and started tending to each other, even as a man I distantly knew to be Halith's own gently moved me aside in order to tend his lord in silence.
The soldiers all knew more of medicine than I, so I mad myself useful collecting weapons and other belongings.
"So, now what do we do? We have men too wounded to move, most of our horses are dead, and we need to reunite with the Countess. Any ideas?" One said; he had the mark of an officer on his shoulder, and other turned when he spoke.
"We could set one of our signals." One man said while bandaging his friend.
Fighting was bound to make one thirsty. I began with my own skin, and offered it to Eadric. He lifted enough to drink from it greedily, spilling much of it on himself.
"That signal will bring the others back as well; should the risk be taken?"
"The alternative is to wait for their messengers to inform them of Lady Kath's return."
"Which would bring only enemies on our heads. Fine, set the signal if you have it."
"Draz had it, Jenly, and he's dead. But I have his bag." The man held a bag up.
"And since the signal didn't go off, it's still intact enough to use," The newly named Jenly added. "Go to it, then."
"Yes, sir." The first man drawled, and dumped the bag upon the roadside. From the belongings he drew a sphere, much like the one given my and in my possession, but instead holding the yellow and red of fire within.
This, he turned and threw; there was indeed fire trapped within, and it flew into the sky as a streak of light, one that was not swift to die.
"The rest of you, barricades! We must make we're prepared, iffin the wrong friends come back."
Boxes, bags, and even corpses were soon being lifted.
A quick shake and I was back to my own self appointed task.Many of the things done, I had not the skills for. But giving water was something anyone could do.
Conrad as among those wounded, his weaker arm hanging limp with an arrow hole through it; someone had already tended and bandaged it. His eyes were glazed but he responded, so after I saw to his thirst, I moved on.
I soon finished, as most of those able tended their own needs. "Does anyone need assistance?"
"No, Lady Kath. Please see to your own safety." was my response, murmured from many mouths.
Jenly did not look to me directly. "Dirst, Crox, Sirus. Shields on, and take points around the lady. Let no arrow or sorcery through, on your life."
I was swiftly surrounded by the three men, one of whom had been the one to shatter the fire orb; it was good to put a name to the face. All three men were very large and undoubtedly strong.
I felt uneasy. Was my life worth so much?
"Should we not instead do something else?" Another man I did not know asked, as he bandaged a leg. "If we dressed Lady Kath as one of us, would not our enemies hesitate to ttck us from a distance as before? Up close, we could smash them."
Such a thing might work. I would be willing.
Jenly turned red and stomped to the man. "We will not do that. It would endanger Lady Kath's life, and far better we all die. Remember your honor, Forens."
Jenly turned back to the other men, his voice still soft. "All who are fit, take what bows we have and hide yourselves among the treeline. Should another ambush like the first be tried I want the enemy to run directly into death. If you see them, remember your signal arrows."
Seven men grabbed bow and quiver; I watched them vanish into the tree line. We would be less easy a mark than we appeared, if all went well.
From farther up the road there came a distant sound; I knew not what it was. The closest I could come was a mudslide or tree collapse, but it was far too distant for that.
"What was that noise?"
"A sorceress casting a spell of massive destruction. That or two sorceresses fighting." Dirst informed me, his words clipped and eyes alert.
"The enemy had a sorceress of their own?" Was the Countess able to overcome another? Was a duel among sorceresses normal? None of those around me seemed surprised to hear such news. Perhaps the calling was not as rare as I had thought.
There was another noise, similar to the first. I could also detect smoke rising in the distance, as from bonfires.
The tense wait was not a long one.
"Truce, truce, tis us, good men of Hastalan! The Countess rides behind, stay your hands!"
The man riding at a gallop was another I recognized, one of Halith's men. He pulled up with clear surprise.
"Huh. I expected to be full of shafts by now."
"The archer's have been settled," Jenly explained.
"So I see," The man replied. I remembered him now, Virn. His eyes met mine. "I see our prodigal returned to the fold. I would pay to hear that tale."
"Oh Virn? What it worth to you, perchance? I know the tale entire." Eadric admitted with an easy if pained grin.
"A silver, should the tale be good. But that is to be settled later." The others were drawing up, the Count in the lead.
I gathered my courage. "And what of the other sorceress?"
The Countess heard, and answered. "Dealt with. There will be no further attacks. How is Halith?"
Eadric approached, his face grave. "He took another wound after you too up pursuit. He is... not well."
"I see." The Countess dismounted without haste. I shall see what I may do. Please excuse me, Count."
I thought it best not to intrude, even in the face of my many questions. My shields had moved away slightly, but were still wary, and their shields were still raised. They must be heavy, yet there were no complaints.
The Count dismounted heavily and led his fearsome beast to us. "Lady Kath, good to see you looking well. I feared the worst."
Best to get this done. "Eadric's quick thinking saved me from the worst, I think. I know I should not have, but I came back to return the debt."
The Count laughed; it felt out of place, for all it seemed from the heart. "Aye, and that should be an interesting tale to tell, if dangerous. You should not have risked yourself, as you no doubt know."
I nodded.
The Count winked and whispered loudly, "But I'd have done the same. Now, if you'll excuse me my course language, I have my men to see to."
I nodded again. He knew his work better than I.
"Alright you maggots! Get up and get to work! I want this mess cleaned up and all of you on the move inside the hour! There is no rescue but ourselves. You four, build litters. And build them right this time, with the proper lead! You and you, gather all animals capable of burdens, and ready them for the wounded. Here is your first."
He handed the reins to his own horse off to poleaxed soldier and strode past, giving more orders. Conrad bobbled in his wake, driftwood on a river.
One of the men near me whispered, "So glad I'm on protection duty now."
The man to my other side snorted laughter. "You said it; even better that our shield arms are well developed. I might actually thank our man-at-arms for the drills."
The third shuddered. "Don't ever do that. he will become difficult to reason with."
"A reasoned argument." The first admitted.
"Is there ought I can do to help?"
"You could offer water to the wounded again. The Count has just sent a few men to gather some from the stream, but you could help them when they return."
It was obvious that assisting in the gathering efforts itself was dangerous, even with an escort, and indeed that none here would allow such. Truly, it was not a risk I'd prefer to take, but seeing all this suffering and doing nothing was taxing.
"Alright. Please excuse me."
I moved around Crox; he rushed to catch up.
Countess Phine's eyes were wet, but she had a smile for Halith as he weakly gripped her hand.
"How are you, my lord?"
"I have been better, I surmise. I am assured we need fear no further attack. How are you, Lady Kath? Well I hope?"
"I am well thanks to you. Your arrow was well timed."
He smiled. "Ah, both bragging of me in front of the Countess; and getting me an earful of the Countess. You had best watch this one, Phine, she is crafty."
The Countess barked a laugh. "You fool, you deserve every word, both harsh and praising. Rest now, and when you wake we shall be at the capital.
Halith gave a pained grimace. "You'll get no argument from me. Work your magic, then."
The Countess gently stroked her fingers over Halith's eyes; when she removed them he was asleep.
I found my courage again. In truth, this might require more courage than my mid-day attack. "How is he, really?"
The Countess lost one of the tears she had saved; my own eyes yearned to do the same.
"He might live. I do not know, I can only put him in a sleep where he feels no pain. It is in the hands of the Gods, now. But I do not fancy his odds."
She smiled, a brightness at odds with the rest of her. "He has annoyed quite a few, after all."
"He did save my life." It was important she knew.
The Countess nodded, and stroked Halith's cheek. "Of course he did; he is a good man."
We stayed there for a time, as the camp was dismantled from around us. In time those sent for water returned, and I moved to help. The man in charge of the effort passed over four skins silently.
By the time we were finished, the wounded were being loaded upon their horses and litters and all traces of our activity here had been removed.
Eadric settled in beside me, the pain a map upon him. My current guardians let him pass and settled around to include us both.
"Safest place in the entire caravan."
"I am sorry. Perhaps I should have tried to take Gern with me after all."
Eadric shrugged with one shoulder. "You could not have foreseen this, and your thought was good one. I doubt you'd have escaped in the fashion you did with Gern behind you, in the forest."
He pointed down at himself. "My legs do still work, after all. Some rest in a temple, being attended to by concerned priestesses, and I'll be right as rain."
"Eadric, stop corrupting the innocent, will you?" Crox turned to me. "Pay no attention to this fool."
I tried to control myself; this was no time for the infusion of heat. "We had best start; are you three now tasked to me?"
Sirus nodded, already facing outward. "We shall keep pace with you; it will ease concerns in certain minds."
"Do not be concerned. Eadric has not been replaced, as yet. Only reinforced," Dirst added.
Eadric grinned sunnily. "That's right. No need to worry, your new shields do not mind your status."
Such was not really my concern, but their words showed me that my real concerns were also not a concern of theirs.
With little choice, we walked. Eadric seemed well enough at first, but he soon started struggling. He was not alone in that, the pace set was not a slow one even for a whole man.
I could not see our archers, but I was certain they were keeping pace. Perhaps even scouting ahead to ensure against future attacks; such an act seemed very dangerous to me.
"How many do you think attacked us, Eadric?"
"No more than two dozen," He grunted out in reply.
So few? The Count's troops had them outnumbered then, or had. "How many perished in the assault?"
"Few in the initial attack, but the Count was able to catch the group upon the road, and with the help of the Countess he destroyed them almost entire."
"And the other sorceress?" When had he the moment to hear this news, when I had not?
"Escaped, but not unscathed. It is unlikely she will return in time to harass us. Unlikely, but not unthinkable, which explains the Count's precautions."
"I see."
By the time the Count called a halt for a rest, Eadric was leaning on Sirus when he thought I wasn't looking to keep pace. In return, I acted the fool.
A short rest, some quickly shared trail foods and water, and some care with the horses remaining us, and we set off again. The sun set while we were still upon the road, but we did not tarry long; the Count ordered torches to be cut and for us to continue.
"We must continue, for the sake of our comrades. We must make the shelter of the city by tonight!"
The Countess was silent and did not stray from her horse's side. The horse Halith's litter was tied to.
We continued long past the moon rise. The moon hung high and large in the sky when we chanced upon the gate of our next stop - Foxworth.
Sigh, I hated doing this. waiting till the last moment to search for a Halloween costume was natural when you hated trying to go to all the boring parties, mixers, and office get togethers filled with horrid crepe and dismal, ancient, and sad decorations dragged out of must basements or mouse inhabited attics. The smell of mold and rodent crap clung to an otherwise wonderful holiday like a miasma of failure.
Hope springs eternal though, so I was willing to give it that one last try I also gave the three years previous. I was sure I'd find someone who loved the season...the darkness, the pure worship of entropy, that this time of year properly was. Of course, while a soul mate would be nice...I had to admit I had far less lofty objectives in mind most of the time. Which was why I was staring at a specialty shop's mask rack now, on the off chance I'd be invited to a party of like minded individuals who would debate with me the values of Poe and Keats, and then later screw my brains out.
"Excuse me sir, can I help you find what you need?"
Well, that was a step in the right direction...I looked down to see a woman of perhaps college age and average height, with auburn hair and large breasts peeking out of her body hugging dress. The name tag tackily applied to it read: "Trisha."
"Just looking for a last minute costume...and maybe a date?"
She ran her tapered nails along my shirt in a gesture I'd seen before, desire blazing behind her eyes.
"Well handsome I can help with one, and I might be able to help with the other."
"Well...what do you recommend?"
"Depends on what you like; we still have a good selection. Do you have an idea on your party theme?"
I'd never even heard of a party theme for Halloween before. To my knowledge everyone came with random costumes.
"Well that would be...up to you?"
I winced internally at the hopeful note in my voice; it was best not to come on too strong or desperate in such situations. But I couldn't help myself, she was gorgeous!
"Oh, well....the store has it's own party in house, and all the employees and their people attend. Our only theme is linked costumes. That is, you and I for example....would have matching masks and costumes. So do you want to go, handsome?"
"As your...guest? Sure."
"Not as my guest...as our guest. Hey gang, what do you think?"
Trisha was soon joined by loveliness of three other flavors, ranging average height to 6 feet, sporting similar dresses, and hair of blueberry, black licorice, and white as premium vanilla ice cream. did modeling have to be a requirement of working here? Seriously, this was ridiculous...even my gym didn't have this many hot bods per foot.
"so this is Anne, Becca, and Holly. We all find ourselves without suitable companionship for tomorrow night...care to be our date?"
"All of you?"
My slightly shell shocked question was answered with nods and broad, almost predatory grins.
"Um, sure. So what is your theme?"
"Oh, we're all wenches...you get to be the pirate. You're bigger than good old captain jack, but you'd make a mean Blackbeard...once we get you a beard. What do you think girls?"
More nods met that question.
"Count me in; got nothing else going on, what do I need to do?"
"Well our costumes are all linked as a series. So is Blackbeard. He's right down this aisle."
She led the way, her silent friends bringing up the rear, all grins and waves. I whispered back to the blue one, Anne I was hoping.
"So, can the rest of you talk?"
"Of course.' she responded in a perfect bedroom voice. 'Trish is just the most outgoing of us. Don't worry, you're in good hands...we only bite if you want us to."
Oh, shit.
"do I need safe words?"
"Maybe; Becca can get carried away at times."
"Ahem, ladies, minds on task please. Pleasure later."
"Yes boss!" they all chorused, on cue.
"Now, all the parts of costume number 27 in large or extra large ladies...one full Blackbeard. I'll handle the mask."
"A mask? Can't use my normal face with an eye patch or something?"
"No, not at all...you're far too handsome to be one of those sea dogs, especially black beard. Don't worry, all our products are of the highest quality. The only one able to tell that this face isn't yours is us."
She reached her objective and held it out, it was a full head mask with more hair than I've ever seen on a man. A full black zz top style beard, and black hair down past where my shoulder blades would be. The face itself was ruddy, scarred, weather beaten, and looked completely real. It also had a scar down the left eye.
"Your call, to go eye patch or not."
"Wow this is amazing...you sure you didn't skin a guy?" I inspected the inside. The mask even felt like skin, at least from the outside. But no skinning marks or anything and it felt like latex on the inside. It was more thin than I expected too, like it would mold over my features rather than overwriting them.
"not at all, that would be illegal; but we did the next best thing. That is a mold of a real mans face."
"Oh and no, no eye patch, I love my depth perception. No fan of peg legs and hook hands either."
"Well Blackbeard didn't have either of those, just wanted to be sure on how close to the original you wanted to be. Go ahead, try it on, usually they are once size fits all, but always best to check."
Finding a small zipper in back under the hair, I unzipped it to give my head room and shoved it on. It fit like the proverbial glove, though a bit loose since I wasn't about to zip it up.
"Hmm, looks perfect from here. Any thoughts?"
"No, if you think it looks good, I'm sure it does. Serves the purpose at any rate."
"Then shall we wait at the register for the girls to get back with the rest?"
"Sure."
She led the way through the still packed aisles.
"I must say, you are easier to please than most customers I deal with."
Looking at that saucy grin I found that statement hard to believe.
"I doubt that, but telling someone they are going to be escorted by four lovely ladies to a party is a sure way to get them to agree to just about anything."
"Perhaps, some can resist but..."
"Hey boss! Got the goods from aisle 4." the blue headed one came back, with various bits of costume jewelry encased in plastic baggies marked with tags.
"Anne, right? what is all this?"
"Yes sir, I'm Anne, and this is all the rings, necklaces, and other assorted bling that pirates of the period would wear. Don't worry, the earrings only go into the ears of the mask, not yours."
"Hadn't even considered that, but good to know. High end costumes seem to be much more involved than I'm used to."
"Don't worry sir, it is our job to make you look as good as possible."
"While being someone as different from yourself as possible. Hey boss, got the pantaloons, shirt, vest and wicked hat."
The raven tressed helper sauntered up behind, sliding an arm around me, hot breath caressing my cheek.
"And I have the boots and weapons. Please don't harass the paying customers, 'Becca."
"Wait, weapons?"
"Fake cutlass, fake flintlock, fake knife, and boots, in a size 11...That is your size, correct?"
"Oh, fake ones. Yeah I'm a size 11, how did you know?"
"I'm very good at my job sir."
"So, all your costumes are period costumes, and linked with mine? I'm coming to your party?"
They all nodded expectantly and seemed to hold their breath. I could feel the tension rise as I considered.
"Then I'll take it."
"Alright!"
'Becca yelled, jumping into the air and pumping a fist. Holly and anne wore matching smiles, while Trisha wore a Cheshire grin.
"Very good sir, as you can tell by the girls, we were sort of hard up for an escort too, and everyone who works for our company is expected to bring at least one person in. While this isn't ideal, since we only have you, no offense intended, it's a bit better than not having anyone."
"Why?" I replied as I handed her my credit card.
"Well our boss loves the season as much as we do, and wants a higher people count simply because it's more fun. I mean don't get me wrong, we don't get in trouble or anything, but its like an office party. You don't get many social points if you don't have a date."
"Heh, been there, done that. Not like I'm doing much tomorrow anyway, I'll be happy to help."
Trisha bagged my purchases up and handed my card back with the receipt.
"My number is on the receipt; I'll call you if plans change. Otherwise just simply drop by at 5, when we close. I'll be here to let you in, the party is in the back."
"Sounds good to me, if I don't hear from you I'll just pop on by at 5, right?"
"that's right, don't keep us waiting now."
I nodded numbly and walked out to 'Becca's cry of "Later stud!"
I hopped in my much beloved and restored 1972 mustang and drove off. Deciding to favor speed over my usual scenic route driving and going straight through the middle of town. Twenty minutes later and I was watching an old episode of "lost" with a whiskey sour in hand. However, I just couldn't get those women out of my head. there was something about them beyond the normal; I was sure of it. So while I let the next episode spooled up, I found the bag on the floor where I'd thrown it and dumped it.
The clothing was still in its own plastic, so I wasn't worried about that. The cutlass didn't fit in the bag, so I looked at that first. Almost three feet black metal, oddly enough. Iron perhaps judging by the weight. It was a weapon in truth even though it wasn't sharpened. The sheath was real leather and capped on the ends with what I took to be bronze. Very odd and very high quality for a costume.
The jewelry was more of the same; there was a ring for every finger, a rainbow per hand, rubies amethysts jade and diamonds. It looked like real silver, gold, and gems, but that couldn't be right, since the receipt showed a measly 60 dollars, and real stones would be somewhere in the thousands if not higher. But I could see no hint of paste, and the gems didn't look like glass to me....
Couldn't be, I'm not a jeweler. They must just be better fakes than I'm used to. The clothes were ripped directly from the time, a tri-corner hat, cotton pantaloons, large leather boots with square buckles on them, a white silk shirt that did that whole poofy thing around the sleeves and had lace around the collar, and a large red jacket complete with tails, gold brocade, and gold buttons. A curious mix of humble and wealthy that spoke pirate in any language. And the mask...the more I looked at it, the more it looked real. It even felt real. The hair was likely 100% real human hair, and the skin felt like skin, if cold. It was downright creepy.
Those women were good.
I gathered the costume up and put everything back where it belonged. No longer interested in lost (I'd only seen it all three times and counting) I finished my whiskey and went to sleep; after all, I had work in the morning.
The morning began, much as it does for everyone else...to the irritating siren song of the alarm clock. Smelling my automatic coffee maker already in action, I headed to the shower to wash up. fifteen minutes later I was showered with a clean suit on, almost ready to begin the wage slave blues; But I wasn't awake, which was why I tripped over that bag in my floor and slammed my face into the couch.
Cursing, I realized I'd missed the sharp edge of my coffee table by mere inches. Then I realized what I'd tripped over, and checked it. Good, no damage to it at all, the sword (the item I'd tripped over) hadn't bent. Only 30 minutes to get to work, so I grabbed my coffee, grabbed the bag, and grabbed some unheated pop tarts, hitting the door running.
I made it to the office just in time, clocking in right at nine. Roger, my loving boss, was waiting there like a vulture scenting carrion.
"Hi boss."
"Hello Chris...trying for the grunge look again I see."
"I conform to office dress code Roger, but thanks for asking."
"I need that new log in page for our clients today."
"Buck said it's not due till Friday Roger...but it'll be done by the time I leave today, thanks for your concern."
I pushed past him, having exhausted my quota of middle management asshole today. Sat down at my lovely cubicle, typed my password in, and got started. The current client is a browser games company (perhaps one step above malware). They wanted a new webpage for their main site, and didn't want to pull their own code monkeys for the job, since they were busy actually developing new games. That was where the company I worked for, and therefore myself, came in.
Digital management solutions, we do the grunt work so you don't have to. Not really our motto, but close enough.
Even with the break at 10:30 to get a red bull, I was done with the coding by 12. Wouldn't do to let Roger know that however; I appreciate my lazy half days. Do this well enough, and I can have a lazy Friday as well. Grabbing a vendor sandwich (tuna) I settled back in lazy ease to eat it.
"Hey Chris, you coming to the office party tonight?"
"Oh hell no...got myself a date with some hot chicks."
"Plural?"
"That's right."
"Damn, you're an ass."
"Guilty as charged. Won't have to deal with the same old office crap this year, thank whatever devils rule the season. Sorry to leave you in the lurch though."
"I'll survive I guess; you done with your page yet? I'm really having trouble with the pay page."
"So hey, how about those jets?"
We discussed football till the half hour ended, and we were both due back for another half daily dose of hell. I started my next project for giggles, but my heart wasn't in it. In fact I was getting more and more nervous. By 3 I was such a wreck of anticipation there was no way I could focus anymore. Which I had anticipated.
Time to leave.
Roger caught up to me as I was clocking out; I pictured him waiting there hunched in an a cubicle like a a suited gargoyle, blood on his teeth and claws poised to ambush the unwary.
"Leaving so soon? Buck sure will be disappointed."
"Nah, not really Roger, he gave me the go ahead Monday to take the early day...provided the page was done. And it's done. Check your email. Ta!"
Ahh, leaving him standing there, speechless, never got old, no matter how many times I did it. Being efficient had it's perks.
In the car I picked up the card I left there the night before, and called it.
"Hello, Ye olde costume shop, may I help you?"
"Hi Trisha, it's Chris, the guy you asked to come to your party? I'm done with work a bit early, mind if I show up?"
"Sure Chris, no problem...but some of us are still working, so you might be forced to entertain yourself for awhile. Lot's of last minute shoppers."
"I can manage, I'm sure. Just thought I'd call ahead as you requested."
"Yeah everything is A OK, come on over. The staff will be happy to see you."
Even with the light traffic, it took just under 40 minutes to reach the shop. The place might have been packed earlier, but it was empty now, and looked like a tornado hit it. Masks, costumes, bits of costumes, and other miscellaneous crap littered the aisles.
"Holy crap, quite the bomb got set off in here."
"Three buses of catholic school kids attended by nuns leave quite the lasting impression on any location."
Holly stated, having heard me from her position near the door. She and Becca were trying to put this section at least, back together.
"hope they bought a lot."
"Not really, the hazards of our profession."
"Well I'm not doing much, I'll just help."
"Oh we couldn't have you do that, it's our job after all."
"So you want me to get bored watching you? Nah, you can't stop me." I suited action to my words.
"Thanks sir."
"Chris. My name is Chris. If we are going to party together, sir is kind of awkward."
"Thank you Chris. Those nuns weren't nearly strict enough."
We crawled our way through the store, rearranging shelves, picking up various fallen items from the floor, and picking up trash.
"Well, thank you very much for your help Chris. We really appreciate it."
Trisha whispered in my ear, sliding her arms around my waist in a hug. Just like that my heart started racing again.
"so you did remember your costume yes?"
"It's in the car. I'll just go get it."
"You do that; for saving us some time to get ready, we will help you get ready too."
"Uh....thanks."
As soon as I walked back in, admiring the now clean shop, she grabbed me by the tie and led me past a door marked 'employee's only'. A modest break room greeted me, with a kitchenette to one side and 2 bathrooms to the other, and a steel padlocked door straight ahead, showing just a touch of rust. Trish noticed my gaze and and gestured to the men's room.
"Over there Chris, just put everything on and we'll get you all...adjusted when you come out. That door leads to the party, once we are all properly attired."
I needed no further encouragement. The bathroom was sparkling clean, as if someone had cleaned it just before I entered...I could see my teeth sparkle in the floor tiles. It spoke to me of simple, old, and expensive elegance, with a small chandelier and brass fixtures. My suit came off in record speed, and the pantaloons and shirt were on just as fast. Trish had a stopwatch going when I stepped out of the bathroom.
"you were right Becca, under 4 minutes. You win."
"What's going on?"
Becca sidled up to me, grabbing my hands with hers as she laughed.
"Nothing, stud. Just made a little bet here on whether you were the impatient type or not. Trish bet you'd be done in 5, i bet before 4."
"Did your other co-workers bet?"
"sure, but they thought you'd take more time to do things, so they weren't even close."
Holly responded. "I thought you would fold your suit, rather than just stuff it into your bag."
I sheepishly ran my hand through my hair at her look of faint disapproval.
"Sorry, but it'll just get cleaned anyway...and why buy wrinkle resistant clothes if you aren't going to put them through their paces?"
"Why indeed?" Anne responded.
"did you have a reason why I'd take longer Anne?"
"Of course I did Sir...I thought you'd take advantage and use the facilities."
"Heh. Maybe later."
"Well you've made a right mess of your costume already." Trisha stated, eyeing me critically.
"Oh? How so?"
"We will show you; Ladies?"
They swarmed me like a pack of flower scented dogs, grabbing rings off fingers and adjusting shirts and the like. Trisha put my mask on, which I considered it a bit early for.
"Isn't it a bit early in the night for this? I mean I'd like to eat and drink a bit before I get fully suited."
"Ahh but that is the greatest thing about our masks Chris."
She zipped it up and there was no room at all; no air movement that I could detect, and no slippage of the mask itself. Even it's lips fit over mine.
"Our masks are 100% usable any time, anywhere. We make the same product for the stage and movies. And yes, even the recent ones with all the CGI."
"So I can drink and eat with this thing on?"
"you'll have to clean it later of course, with alcohol...but yes; the inside is designed to gently stick to your skin, so it wont move; its porous, so your skin can breathe, but you'll have to make sure any crumbs on the lips for example, don't cause bacteria later. That kind of thing can be dangerous."
"And the rings stud...rubies always go to the ring finger for pirates." Becca added, shaking her head.
"Really?"
"Please sit down sir." I looked and Anne had my boots in her hands, gently pushing me to a chair.
"Sure."
I sat down and she slipped them on, and they fit as well as the mask. They felt padded...very comfortable.
"Your armaments sir."
Holly belted the fake cutlass and pistol around me, adjusting it till it was of proper rakish angle. They all stepped back.
"Well what do you think my lovelies?"
Trish met my eyes with hers.
"Perfect."
Becca Holly and Anne nodded, apparently speechless. I couldn't look that good...I wandered back into the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror.
Holy shit.
Long long long black hair running down to the middle of my back, a beard almost as long and done up in braids with copper rings or something close threading them. a thin straight red line of a scar down my left eye that looked like a sword wound, running completely vertical. The white silk shirt showed every muscle I'd spent so much time gaining in high school to great effect. The pantaloons were loose and tucked into my boot tops, almost completing the image.
In short, it looked like I had both stepped out of a painting from the 17th century...and a romance novel.
"Damn I look good. So do I pass? Am I worthy of the great artists?"
They shared a guarded look before replying the affirmative.
"Well now it's our turn Chris. The shop is closed, so it's safe to wait out there while we change. Scoot."
"Alright, just collect me when you're ready. I'll browse a bit more."
"Just remember, you break it, you buy it."
"Sure thing."
I went out and wandered the shelves, looking at the various vampires, werewolves, frankenstein monsters, ranging from cheap to highest quality. Oddly, nothing looked like my costume. Trish had called it a number 27...but no number 27, no silk shirts and weird jackets matching mine, and no other Blackbeard mask. Very odd...did I get the last one in the place? I mean I did do my costume shopping pretty late.
That must be it...but I didn't see any other costume in the store, no matter how well made, to match what I was wearing. All of that sold out too I guess. I settled in behind the counter to wait. I grabbed a magazine of the latest costume fashions from the rack of them next to the register.
Hmm, no Blackbeard or number 27 in it, either. It felt like an hour later when....
"OK Chris, we're ready; you're not asleep, right?"
"No I'm good. So...."
Again, holy shit. Trisha was wearing white; white pantaloons, white cotton shirt. Except...both were opaque, allowing the hint of white panties and a bra to be seen. Her legs were fantastic. She was all hints and suggestion to please the eye. Her dainty feet were not encased in any footwear.
What Trisha only hinted at, Becca stated outright. She was wearing what amounted to a harem girl outfit, all wisps of scarves matching her hair, knotted together to form clothes, after a fashion. Her generous bust was all but displayed, and anyone could tell that there was no way she was wearing panties of any color. Her footwear were sandals.
Anne was a match for me, a sort of nerdy first mate, with a white cotton shirt, grey skin tight pants, and black boots. She was dressed modestly, except everything seemed molded to her form, showing it all off in a manner that left nothing to the imagination of a rock. Her boots looked like mine, and she bore a rapier.
Holly was a match for Anne, except her shirt was grey and her pantaloons tan. Instead of a rapier she bore matching pistols. They all wore small silver collars with their names stamped into them.
"Pick your jaw up off the floor stud, you'll gather bugs."
I snapped out of my stupor with a herculean effort.
"Holy shit, and I thought I cleaned up nice."
"Thank you for the compliment sir."
"No problem Holly, and it's Chris. All of you should call me Chris."
"Alright Chris, one last thing to do before we join the party. You have to meet our boss. Just a formality, but he insists on it. Doesn't like people he hasn't met randomly showing up."
I laughed.
"Sounds like I'm meeting a father, concerned I'm here to take his daughters out to prom."
Their looks sobered a minute, tinged with something I couldn't place. Fear? Then so quickly I wasn't totally sure I'd seen it at all, it was gone, replaced by smiles.
"That's pretty much it; he is the owner, and our jobs could well be on the line."
"Well that sucks; I'll do my best to make a good impression, so don't worry."
"We don't really doubt you, after all you made a good impression on us."
Holly chimed in. The others nodded as Trisha took a key from around her neck and opened the large padlock to the steel door I noticed earlier.
The passage beyond was dark, despite the fluorescent lights struggling valiantly while flickering in fitful starts. It was cold too, just ever so slightly chilly as opposed to the shop itself. The beige wallpaper was tasteful but dingy, possibly very old, and matched the carpet to a tee.
My escorts strode down the hall with purpose, ignoring the first door (a right) in favor of the next (a left). The nameplate on the door stated boldly: 'the boss'. Trisha rapped softly on the door with a knuckle, the sound seemed louder than it should be.
"Boss, our escort is ready."
I couldn't quite hear was was said from the beyond the door, but Trisha seemed to take it as an affirmative.
"Go on in, we will be downstairs once you two are acquainted."
she pointed to the end of the hall, where I could see steps leading into pitch blackness.
"Will do."
I opened the door. Having some idea how to deal with fickle bosses, I put on my best 'I am serious' face.
"Good evening Sir."
The man behind the desk, just standing up, was large and wide in the big boned way, with sun kissed skin and a hale look, like a big blond quarterback smiling after the win of the big game. His blue eyes however...they seemed dead, glassy and lifeless.
"Call me Robert; and you're Chris, right?" His handshake was strong, hearty...but his hands were cold and clammy.
"that I am Robert. So, here I am."
"you are indeed. I'm sorry about this really, but last year 'Becca brought in a guy that was maybe a half step above a whino. Since then I've had to crack down. You arrived here in a suit, you've been courteous, you don't have any party 'extras' like strange liquor or drugs. A cut above the guy who caused such a disaster last year."
I relaxed a bit; I could actually see this guy's point. No one wanted to be the guy in charge of a disaster caused by some random asshole.
"I assure you Robert, I'm simply here to have a bit of harmless fun. I'm not the type to cause trouble."
"And my girls? You aren't going to try anything shady?"
Wow, this guy both cared and was an ass himself. I didn't know whether to be impressed or hate his guts.
"Robert, a dead man would be attracted to those women;' I stressed the word women. 'however if anything happens tonight it's strictly their choice."
We looked at each other for a long moment, and then he nodded.
"I believe you; enjoy the party Chris. We will talk again."
Not if I could help it. Next and last words said to this guy would be 'Good night, thanks for the party.'
I headed out with a wave and walked quickly to the concrete steps; they were lit now, and crepe bunting in a jaunty orange mixed with black led down the narrow staircase at shoulder height. There was another steel door 5 steps down which I assumed led to the back, the fire exit, It was unlocked and Anne was standing at the entrance.
"Hello Anne, I passed the audition. Your boss is something else."
She laughed nervously.
"Yeah, hes a bit protective of us...he say anything embarrassing?"
"He called you 'his girls', almost like we were partying by gaslight or something." I responded with a grin.
She blushed cutely, just a tinge of pink in an otherwise placid face.
"So...manning the doors, so to speak?"
"Yes, my duty as the most dressed of all of us. This is the entrance people normally come to the party from; more parking space in back."
"Good to know...hopefully I'll be invited back next year."
Her ready smile dimmed a bit, and she arched a perfect eyebrow.
"let's not jump ahead of ourselves quite yet, shall we? We hardly know each other after all."
"The night is young, plenty of chance for that. Shame your boss sort of has you working the party. I'll let you get back to it."
"I get paid for it, so it isn't all bad. Got to pay the bills after all."
"True enough, this isn't any worse than anything I've done for money. See you later."
"At least you avoided the rush!" she exclaimed as I walked out of sight.
"Hey Chris! good, it all went well then. Hey we forgot something. for your costume."
I turned around to see Becca smiling warmly at me...holding a live parrot. This particular parrot was a macaw I think, and huge. She placed him gently
on my shoulder where he stayed, staring at me.
"This is Smalls. hes on loan for tonight, and don;t worry, hes potty trained. He will behave, won't you Smalls?"
"Rawwk, Smalls behaves for pretty ladies rawk! Shiver me timbers!"
I gave a sigh.
"Becca, isn't this a bit much for a costume party?"
"Hang in there stud, it adds realism. He's harmless, I swear. Smalls, inside voice."
The parrot quieted, shifting a bit, and stared at me. Becca handed me some saltines.
"Just feed him when you feel the urge, and he will love you forever."
I took a cracker and waved it; Smalls eyes followed it around...so I held it out with one hand while reaching around and petting him awkwardly with the other. Becca grinned.
"Even more perfect!"
Distractions aside, I took a look around. The place was huge, with roving spotlights and track lighting everywhere, designed not to cut the gloom so much as offer isolated spots of illumination in it. Black lights were also spaced intermittently throughout the area, lending an eerie look. There was an honest to god DJ setting up in a corner booth, and a fully stocked bar at the opposite wall, Holly in residence behind it. Halloween decorations were everywhere, ranging from high quality and mildly frightening to cheap and cheesy. A small stage rounded out the corners, a piano placed on it.
I of course summed up the situation in my own way;
"Niiiiiiccce."
"Good, you made it!" Trisha seemed to pop out of nowhere, no idea where she was standing before.
"So let me guess. building was a former speakeasy?"
"Absolutely right! Yes this is the 'illicit' bar...we had to remove the gambling tables though, those are still illegal without a license. We do however, have the perfectly legal right to sell alcoholic beverages of any type down here."
"Ahh so another shameless attempt to break my wallet huh?"
"Not at all, not tonight anyway. Tonight all drinks are on the house, courtesy of the management."
"Excellent. I knew there was a reason to like him."
whatever Trisha was going to say was stalled by the arrival of several people, all dressed in various costumes which I assumed to be from the shop. Batman hobnobbed with Catwoman, a succubus stood beside what could only be a warlock (from world of warcraft perhaps?) and plenty of vampires, witches, werewolves, and even anime characters noisily poured out from the narrow stairway. There was a muted silence and whispers as the crowd took in their new surroundings, then the dull roar commenced again as most made their way to the bar where a slightly distressed holly could just be made out.
"Becca, go help Holly! I'll make the announcements."
"Gotcha boss!"
Nimbly Becca threaded the crowd, somehow beating most of them to the bar. I followed at a more sedate pace.
"Rawwk! 15 men on a dead man's chest! Rawwk!"
shit, I'd almost forgotten about the live feather duster on my shoulder, till he spoke, startling a couple too concerned with each other to worry about their surroundings. The bird actually helped me avoid a collision.
"dude, great costume!"
"thanks, seems to be something we all share."
"Well dating a worker at a costume shop has its perks. Dan, and this is Debbie. She works at the east side branch."
"Pleased to meet you both, I'm Chris, I was invited by Trisha."
"Ahh good, so Trisha found someone after all, I was a bit worried."
"Yep, last minute addition, but here I am."
We made it to the bar where the drink dispensing was beginning. Holly looked a bit lost, but Becca had to have tended a bar before; bottles were being juggled, fruit slices were flying, tiny umbrellas were being flourished, it was quite the show.
"Attention everyone, now that most of you are here. Welcome to Ye olde costume shop l.l.c.'s 100th official costume ball; I see plenty of new and old faces in the crowd. Welcome. As you all know, this will be my last time co-hosting this event. Please make it one to remember, but don't do anything I wouldn't do! After all, remember, Robert is watching. Now I'll get out of the way, DJ Crypt, take it away!"
The first track was loud, obnoxious, and strangely compelling, mixing modern dance with organ music. I finally made my way to the bar, purposefully going up to the less mobbed Holly, who was gladly standing back letting Becca hog the limelight.
"Holly, can I get a Guinness?"
"Huh? Oh sure Chris, sorry."
"No need to apologize. She's good."
"Yeah I have much to learn yet. She can really work a crowd. Here you go."
"Thanks. I'm a bit lost here; I mean, you're all working...not much need for me to be here. Kind of sad really, to work on Halloween like this."
"Ahh but we don't work all the time this night, you'll get to spend your time with us...and I'm first. The usual Holly."
I looked to find Trisha had snuck up on me again, though in this crowd it was no hard feat. Holly silently delivered a neat bourbon.
"Come on Chris, lets make the rounds. And of course, dance. Can't forget the dancing."
"Lead on, dear lady, lead on."
We danced, we schmoozed, we schmoozed, we danced. She told me witty stories about the employees from the other shops we met (I learned there were 5 total stores in the city). She flirted with reckless abandon, pulling my head down and nibbling on my ear gently (the free ear, not the one the parrot was squawking in). I felt warm, basking in her bright flame of life.
Then all too briefly, it was over.
"Trisha, could you please help me in setting up the buffet?"
Robert...fucking Robert.
"Let me help."
"Oh you don't have to Chris, please relax and enjoy yourself."
Hard to enjoy myself with you stealing my date, asshole.
"I don't mind, really. So what needs doing?"
"Oh the buffet is in small carts in the kitchen, we simply need to roll them out and place them in the correct order, and everyone has snacks or a late dinner, as they prefer."
I followed them past a tapestry which I'd glossed over before, realizing it led to a restaurant style kitchen...something like you'd see on one of those cooking shows that were all the rage. And there, next to a walk in freezer of indeterminate age (somewhere less than modern) were a series of carts with trays of meat, vegetables, and other such finger foods, sauces, nachos, a veritable cornucopia of snacks. the carts had to be custom made....they had sneeze guards built into them. It took 3 of us 2 trips each to roll them out, but it was fairly easy.
"thank you for your help Chris, it would have taken twice as long without you. Perhaps we should see about putting you on the payroll, part time?"
Trisha whirled around and gave Robert a stare that could have melted me into a puddle. He took it well.
"Not quite that long Robert, maybe 5 minutes longer, and I don't think I could afford the paycut."
"Don't be too sure Chris, the benefits outweigh the pay scale. But I joke. Sorry to have dragged you off the dance floor Chris. Trisha, I need to have a word with you about some inventory discrepancy..."
They walked off, Trisha with an apologetic glance in my direction, Robert casually dismissing me. I seethed a bit.
"Rawwk! Ahoy pretty lady, ahoy!" I turned in time to see Holly heading my way with two Guinness.
"hi. You looked like you could use another."
"I can, thanks."
I was mildly surprised to see her drinking too; she seemed a bit more...uptight than the others working here.
"So the boss grabbed Trish, huh? Mind if we sit down? I'm on break."
"Sure thing, I'm a bit tired as well."
she leaned close, allowing me to catch the scent of sweat and lavender.
"Tell you a secret...I can't dance well. Sorry to disappoint."
"Rawwk! Secrets! Secrets! Dead men tell no tales, Rawwk!"
"thank you for that Smalls. Tell you a secret Holly...I can't dance well either. I just fake it."
She giggled, and took a long pull off her beer.
"Looked like you were doing quite well to me; I was a bit envious."
"Of my skills?"
"Of Trisha enjoying your skills, while I was stuck behind a bar. But since I can't dance, how about conversation instead?"
"Fine by me, what do you want to discuss?"
"Global warming?"
"A heady subject, but sure...just don't get get angry if I say what I think...."
"And what is that?"
"That it's a hoax."
"You think global warming is a hoax?"
"No of course not, I think the globe warms just fine...I think man made global warming is a hoax."
And just like that we were off, debating Al Gore's manbearpig. As we talked, she seemed to gradually warm to me, losing some of her standoffish facade. Her smile and behavior became more genuine, less reserved....and her true beauty was revealed before me. Sigh, this was a most enviable mess I was finding myself in.
We enjoyed ourselves, heedless of the crowd around us, chatting about weighty matters and of course never solving the problems we spoke of. Holly insisted vehemently on getting the drinks, So I let her, my eyes scanning the crowd when she wasn't present. All the people having fun, dancing, a small group in a corner smoking cigarettes, a couple here and there making out with reckless abandon...not quite the typical Halloween party, unless you were talking a college one.
Holly returned after her 4th such trip with a bottle of crown royal.
"come on, lets get away from all this awhile; all this noise is hurting my head and it's hard to hear you over it anyway."
"Um, sure, but where?"
"You've been in the kitchen right? well see the tapestry on the other side?"
"another door?"
"Yes, follow me."
So I followed her as she lifted the tapestry back revealing a heavy wood door of indeterminate origin...it didn't quite look like oak. It had silver inlaid into it in a star...very fancy. And old unless I missed my guess, they didn't make stuff like that anymore. She opened it and led me down a darkened hall, one single bare bulb struggling to lessen the gloom. There were a total of 5 doors...2 left, 2 right, and one at the end of the narrow hall.
"Don't tell me, you guys live here?"
"We do, that one is my room."
Holly pointed to the first one on the left. Stepping closer I could see it bore a brass nameplate with her name and under that an inlaid silver butterfly. The door was the same indeterminate make as the other; I looked again, they all were. Across from Holly's door was Anne's, bearing her name and a rose.
I couldn't make out details of the other 3 doors, and I didn't want to be a poor guest.
"OK, after you."
Holly led the way inside. The interior was much like I expected, all muted blues ranging from the light pastel wallpaper to the dark blue comforter on the bed. what wood was present (the desk, a chair for it, and the bed framework) was a tasteful dark stained mahogany. A small television was mounted on the wall opposite the bed, and a laptop sat on the desk. there was also a door for what I assumed was a bathroom. Holly popped the bottle open and took a long pull, causing my eyebrow to raise.
"You OK?"
"Yes...no...I don't know. Not sure if i can do this, year after year..."
"If you're unhappy with the job, quit. You don't need to put up with anything you don't want to. I'm sure if I ask my boss nicely enough, he will hire you for something. And if you need to, you can crash with on my couch, or I'll call my cousin..she'll do anything for me."
Holly's mood got even worse, if anything. She crossed the room, pulling me to the bed.
"you know, you really are too nice for your own good."
"I..."
She shushed me with a finger to my mouth., and turned to the parrot.
"Beat it Smalls."
The bird flew up silently as she started to undress me. I could feel her determination and sadness, mixed with a touch of fear. The emotions radiated from her in waves of unease, slamming into me like a tide. This couldn't be allowed to continue. I wanted her, sure, but not like this! I snagged her hands; feeling her fluttery heartbeat from her wrists.
"Holly stop. Not like this, or we'll both regret it."
She took a deep shuddering breath...and barked a tension filled laugh.
"We will always regret this moment, you and I, regardless of what happens. Damn you for a fool! You're right though, the moment is passed. I'm sorry."
Turning she ran headlong from the room, barely opening the door before squeezing through. I thought I saw a hint of tears before she turned away.
Wow. I had no clue I was that desirable. In fact I was sure that while a pretty cool guy, I wasn't worth tears. I got up to follow, re-lacing my shirt.
"Hold it there stud."
I almost ran into an irritated looking Becca as I reached the hall. She pushed me back into Holly's room and shut the door.
"Holly had her chance, she's off break now, and I'm on mine."
I suffered a bout of deja vu as she shoved me onto the bed, and started undoing my shirt again.
"Wait Becca, Holly was distraught, I really think I should go talk to her."
"Hey stud, you turned her down, it's ok, she'll get over it."
I grabbed her surprisingly strong hands much as I did Holly's, stopping her. This time more than a flash of irritation blinked into existence; A full blown storm of rage crossed her countenance, humbling me. I would not be cowed though.
"Becca this approach didn't work for Holly, what makes you think it'll work for you?"
"That's obvious stud; you didn't want her, and I'm hotter?"
"You might be hotter, not sure on that. But I'm stubborn some days...the more people push, the more I push back. Just what is going on here exactly?"
She got up, my question, while more a fishing expedition borne from various uneasy moments since my arrival, had struck a larger nerve than I'd intended. Well that's...alarming.
"Well stud...I liked you when you first walked in the store. And Holly and I, we're only trying to help you, in our way."
"And have a bit of fun for yourself?"
"Sure, why not? Haven't heard anyone tell me that two people can't scratch each others' backs...so to speak."
She arched forward with a lecherous grin, spilling herself out of her top as she tackled me, kissing me deeply. I could taste her lipstick...and her hunger. And then her tongue, forced between my teeth. It took a weighted moment, but I pulled away.
"Never thought I say this...but no. Not till you tell me what's actually going on here, and why you're both in such a hurry."
she barked a laugh much as Holly had before.
"Sure, tomorrow...Though I'd appreciate it more tonight. As for what's going on, you'll find out soon enough."
She pulled away and checked Holly's wall clock.
"...In fact, pretty soon. It's almost time for the grand unveiling, where we all meet each other without our costumes. Where does the time go?!?"
"The grand unveiling? The moment where we all stare at each other awkwardly and realize we aren't nearly as good looking or cool as the faces we put on for the night, right?"
Her smile this time was more warm, and again like Holly's smacked of a hint of sadness.
"Right you are stud, right you are. But it's too late now for what we both wanted."
She re-laced my shirt yet again, quickly and pulled me up with surprising strength and to the door. I could hear her muttering things under her breath.
"Smalls, right shoulder."
"Rawwk, dead men tell no tales, rawwk! 15 men on a dead man's chest, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!"
The living feather duster landed on my shoulder again as we entered the hall. Suddenly remembering I guiltily fed him a cracker.
"It also means the end of the party; no more fun like this till next year."
"Well while it's had it's moments, my escorts have been acting strangely. I think I'll just take off."
I headed towards the stairs.
"Can't leave stud, sorry."
"Oh and why not?" I stopped and turned to her, yelling over the music, which had gotten loud and frantic again.
"Doors are locked of course; we always lock up by 8 and set the alarm. This isn't exactly the safest neighborhood."
Her demeanor of amused triumph pissed me off.
"Then you'll just have to unlock it."
"Can't do stud...Anne has the keys."
"oooookkkkk...and where is Anne hiding?"
"I assume still upstairs manning the doors. That's where she's been all night, after all."
"Right." I continued upstairs into the dim light. Becca didn't follow.
"Yo Anne, you up here?"
I reached the landing, and didn't see her...till she came out of the shadowy alcove like a ghost, bottle of Jack daniels in hand.
"Yes sir, can I help you?"
"You've been here all night?"
"I'm not much for parties Sir, you remembered me?" she offered the bottle, which I took a pull from.
"Of course I did, why wouldn't I? I'd be lying however, if I said I didn't have an ulterior motive. Something weird is going on, and your co-workers are a part of it. I'd like you to either tell me what is going on, or let me out."
I'd been hoping to surprise her, but all I got in response was a blink...her composed doll like face didn't so much as twitch.
"I can't tell you anything sir, as I'm not sure what you mean by weird. I also can't open the door, as my boss just collected the key on his way upstairs."
"So what you're telling me is, this place is now a fire hazard locked down by 2 locked steel doors, and your boss has the only key?"
"That is correct sir."
"Sonofabitch. you aren't kidding. Ok time to confront your boss."
Was that a bit of...hope on her face for a second? First touch of emotion I'd seen from her.
"good luck sir."
I waved in response and headed further upstairs. Past the landing all the lights were out, shadows and deeper shadows chasing each other in a frenzy along the sludge grey hall as I moved. I could barely make out the outline of the doors in the distance, and was glad that nothing littered the space, as I'd trip and break my fool neck. I had really stepped in it this time.
I paused...that store room door called me; I bet it had answers in it, and I didn't remember seeing a lock on it. I had gone so far as to put my hand on the door before I shook my head in disgust. Curiosity killed the cat, And I needed out now. No idea what was really going on, but I really didn't want a ring side seat for a remake of the Texas chainsaw massacre.
Without preamble or knocking I opened Roger's door. The shadows flew away from the light as if alive.
"Roger."
He was ensconced behind his desk, looking up without any apparent surprise.
"Hello Chris, enjoying the party?"
"Not at all, and I want to leave please. I was told you have the only key."
He seemed to consider for a second, then stood up.
"I'm sorry you aren't enjoying yourself but the end is only 10 minutes away; right at 12:30. Surely you can hold out that long? then I'll be opening the doors for everyone."
Straight to the chase then.
"I'd rather not Roger. I find your manner suspicious, and the manner of your employees more so. Each of the women I was invited here by tonight seem very afraid of you, and of losing their job here. Maybe to the point where they will do anything to keep it. That is a bit unnatural, and I'm not going to wait around for you to put an axe in my face. Now let me out, or I pull out my cell and call the cops."
He grinned in a most disturbing manner.
"You don't have your cell phone Chris, you left it with your clothes."
Shit! I forgot, this costume had no pockets. He continued:
"but there is no need to call in the authorities; I have no intention of putting any sort of cutting tool into your face. I merely think you should stay for the finale, it being so close...and you really can't escape anymore, at least not intact. Might as well settle in and enjoy the show."
"The hell I can't."
I bolted from his office, absolutely sure in my suspicions now. The shadows an I danced together madly for a moment, then I saw...the door leading to the front was unlocked! The padlock was there, but not shut.
"Come back Chris, let's talk about this."
I could hear the 'I've got you now, asshole' grin in his smarmy voice. Needing no further encouragement I ripped it off and headed to the bathrooms. They had windows and vents, and I wasn't sure I could break the pane glass in front, though I'd certainly try it if pressed. I reached the men's room...and it was locked.
"Just a second Chris." The voice wasn't familiar, a baritone a bit deeper than mine. But the inflection...
"Who are you? Do I know you? And hurry up, an asshole who means me bodily harm is coming!"
The door opened and I ran smack into...Trisha?!?! He was much taller than I was, as broad throughout the shoulders as myself, same former football build with maybe a touch less flab, and his face...was a mind numbing mix of mine and the woman who had invited me to this hole. He was wearing my slightly crumpled suit. It didn't make sense, and I felt dizzy and hit the floor.
"Oops sorry about that, this strength thing takes some getting used to. Haven't been this large in some time."
"You ARE Trish! But...how! What the fuck is going on!?!?"
"Well you see Chris...We're the real pirates. We stole your booty."
Becca spoke up from behind me, I whirled to see her standing just in front of Roger, who seemed larger somehow...and the shadows were definitely crowding around him.
"Now now Becca, that's a bit crass, don't you think?"
"Sorry boss."
I shook my head to clear it and drew my cutlass. Blunt or not, it would still serve as a good beat-down weapon. I backed towards the front, trying to keep them all in sight. Then I caught another glance at the cutlass and stared. It was real! I could see a real sharpened edge on the blade. No time to worry about that now! I tried to look menacing, but it was getting hard...were they growing?!?
"All of you just stay the hell away from me!"
I'd almost made it to the glass windows fronting the store when I felt dizzy again, and dropped, simply unable to move. I had a fleeting thought of relief that I hadn't cut my foot off with the cutlass before I was picked up.
"Being strong is nice. Let's go. We don't want to be late after all."
"Quite right Patrick."
there was a sensation of movement and the fog in my brain cleared a bit. My vision cleared a bit too, and I was able to make out the person I knew as Trisha carrying me down the hall at a rapid pace. How could he carry me bridal style so easily? I weigh a good 200 pounds!
"Drugged?" I slurred, my voice shrill in my ears.
"That's right Chris, you were drugged. Good job Anne." Trish added as we reached the fire escape landing. I lolled my head just in time to catch that stupid bird fly overhead and Anne's face, filled what for her was a massive dose of regret and despair.
"I am sorry Chris,' she whispered. 'I have to do as I'm told. We all do. I had hoped you would escape."
"Rawwk! Pretty ladies! Dead men tell no tales! Rawwk!"
"Smalls, shut up. The time for such farces is over." my captor stated plainly, giving a gimlet stare to the bird.
We reached the landing and headed through the crowd to the stage, moving almost at a run, jostling people out of the way. They all appeared drunk to a person, except the employees from of the shops' other branches. So they were all likely drugged too, shit! no help at all. I tried to scream, but only a slight undignified squeak came out, and I still couldn't move. Still I was set down and though I couldn't move my legs I was pulled along. I began to feel
very warm.
"Sorry Chris, bear with it just awhile longer."
Roger stepped onto the podium and took the mic.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to thank you all for making this landmark party for Ye olde costume shop llc a huge success! And now as is traditional at our parties, the time has arrived to remove your masks, and show everyone the real faces you've hidden under our beautiful custom works! Come now don't be shy!"
The crowd as if in a trance, did as asked, and for a moment nothing happened, save Roger's grin got wider. I began to feel downright hot, and even though I couldn't hold my head up to see Roger, I felt as if I knew where he was, and what he was feeling.
Pure undiluted joy.
Anne was still feeling despair.
Becca was feeling happy, and satisfied.
Holly was feeling a sadness so crushing I didn't see how she could stand it.
And Trisha...was feeling liberated.
And somehow I felt it all. Though the connection with Trisha seemed to be washing out, going more tenous by the second as the bonds with the others strengthened.
Then it happened. With a collective sighs and not a few screams, the customers of ye olde costume shop collapsed. Those that I could see, I knew were dead. Eyes open and staring, skin a putrid looking grey. And...
Were those souls?!?
I blinked, trying to clear my eyes. But I continued to see them...greenish blue flames flickering fitfully in the intermittent gloom. Looking closer I saw each one tied by a yellow thread to a corpse, No...to the mask beside the corpse here, or a bit of costume there. The bodies even as I watched, my horror meter topped well beyond where I thought it could go, seemed to deflate and regain some of their color as yellow thread bound them too to their costumes.
"Anne, Holly, you know what to do."
"Yes boss."
"Now, time for you Chris. you must be awfully uncomfortable in that dreadfully hot costume."
I gathered my strength and tried to push away...but it was no use at all, I couldn't budge the large arm wrapped around me.
"don't worry Chris, you won't end up like those poor unfortunates...you have something they lack."
Roger strode towards me slowly, obviously savoring the moment. In fact, he WAS savoring it, I could feel it.
"St...stay away from me! Just stop this, please!"
"You see Chris, you are a curious sort of person...a strange mix of greed, desire, and a hidden streak of nobility I just don't see that often; all in the right amounts mixed with an outgoing witty magnetism sure to draw people in by the score...a honey trap, as it were. Why the last time I'd seen such a personality was Sir Patrick here, many many years ago..."
I shook, wanting to deny what I was hearing. Maybe I'd fallen asleep drunk in Holly's room, and this was all a dream! That's it, it had to be! Roger pulled something from behind his back...a silver collar bearing the name 'Christine'.
"And Patrick, well Sir Patrick has earned his retirement...and you are part of the severance package."
I felt a hand on the zipper of my mask, my wonderful, lifelike mask...and heard a keening wail fit for a lost soul. It took a moment as the mask was gently pulled away for me to realize the scream was my own.
************************
Roger stared at the small glowing gem and the flames trapped within. The last experiences of one Christopher M. Sedgwick, internet development specialist, still replaying in his minds eye. He tested the link with the still form on the bed beside him. It was strong...strong enough to guarantee obedience, at least once the final act was done. He swallowed the soul, sealing the deal.
It was a shame about losing Patrick, but Becca could pick up the slack while Christine was taught the ropes...and perhaps she would be successful enough to buy back her soul before it was completely consumed; a rare occurrence, but Patrick had proven it could be done. He couldn't help but chuckle though at the thought of the former knight and crusader let loose to cause more mayhem as an immoral lout; his inner nobility had made for a tasty meal, and without any inhibitions to speak of and no lord to rein him in....
He spared a glance. Christine had cleaned up nicely, once the remains of her former self had been sloughed away to add itself to the vats. A sable haired fox faced vixen, small in stature and delicate in frame, muttered under his touch for a moment then quieted. Her hair had some touches of white denoting stress in the young, as she clearly was...and a small straight red vertical line crossed her left eye..the remainder of some tragedy no doubt, though the eye itself was spared. All in all, a beauty among beauties, a delicate flower with more than a hint of the rogue about her...or a pirate.
He smiled, and lowered himself into bed beside her. He loved Halloween.
There was no real warning, looking back on it. I kept casting my mind back to determine if there was anything at all that I could have used to foresee how things turned out. But nothing came to mind, even through my best efforts. The first warning or hint or omen was when... it happened. When the world went from making sense to hell in a heartbeat.
When the love of my life died in front of me.
…....
Work sucked so bad, and Mr. Radcliff was always a slave driver on Fridays. He seemed to love sucking the joy from the lives of employees. I couldn't wait until I was done with college, and able to kick this stupid menial place to the curb. Though it was probably best to wait until I'd been hired on as a game developer before quitting my stock-boy job. I'd try to stomach it that long, it was only a few more weeks after all, and Cassie didn't like slackers. She was far too in love with money for that.
She was pretty hot though.
I shook my head as I walked into the parking lot. Closing late always made her angry, and with Mr. Radcliff riding my ass the way he had, I was even later than usual. Chances were I would be on the couch tonight.
Sure enough, she was waiting in the car, tapping her manicured nails on the steering wheel and fidgeting. Had the radio on full blast too, and the doors locked. She had parked in our usual spot at least; sometimes the car was hard to find in the dark. The usual spot was clear in the back of the lot; after Mr. Radcliff threw a fit over his precious customers being forced to walk ten extra feet, all employees were supposed to park in the farthest spots. The only good to come from that was watching Mr. Radcliff himself make the walk at the start of the shift. He was not in the best of shape.
Cassie was however, believed all that 'my body is my temple' crap. I had to admit it looked good on her; she stood at five feet seven inches and weighed around 150 (she wouldn't tell me the exact number, and I knew better than to ask). Her dyed black hair was in a pixie cut that she had trimmed up every month, and her face was a beautiful, but bland. She was no mighty she hulk, but when we played around she was pretty scrappy. Heaven help you if you broke her nails or messed up her makeup, though.
By the looks of things, she had been waiting for an hour. Possibly even longer, sitting in the car under the eye-smarting halogens used in the lot with the heater on to ward off the chill. Mr. Radcliff insists that no one goes home until the work scheduled for the shift is done and the close up procedures are followed to the letter. He was an ass like that, and Cassie had probably been off shift before the clean up started. She usually was somehow.
Cassie was allergic to work because of the aforementioned nails and breakage thing. She was kinda hot, though. Unfortunately, she was also angry, and Mr. Radcliff wasn't out yet. I was a convenient target.
“About fucking time, Jesus.”
She opened the door and stepped out, making a show of planting her hands on her hips as I strode up. I decided to try and deflect anyway; I really didn't want to sleep alone tonight.
“You know how it goes, Cassie. Can't leave until closing; I can't wait to get a real job. College bills are a bitch.”
I hugged her and she didn't resist, so I dipped her as if we were dancing and planted a nice big one on her.
“Not here; it's too cold.”
She shoved me off to check her lipstick in the mirror. I didn't get it, I thought that stuff was smudge free? She wouldn't be cold if she picked jeans and a coat to wear over the skirt and top she had though I had to admit to myself the effect was undeniable.
I looked up as one of the halogen lights ringing the lot blew, noisily. Cheap things; Mr. Radcliff probably skimped on them and bought those cheap Chinese things again. Which meant, of course, I'd be replacing the thing tomorrow. I hated heights. There was still plenty of light to see by, at least here. It was kind of odd that no one else was out yet, come to think of it. Usually, Becky was out by now; she was almost as allergic to effort as Cassie was.
Cassie was already on the other side of the car, knocking on it impatiently; she had forgotten to unlock the passenger side and wanted me to drive, apparently. I could deal with that. The keys were still in the car, but she threw something at me as another light blew, this one right above Mr Radcliff's car. I had some hope that the showering glass had damaged the paint as I missed my grab. Whatever it was fell next to the car in question.
“Good grab there, butter fingers.”
“Thank you, Cassie.”
I took the required steps and bent down when something caught my eye. What was that? That shadow seemed to be moving, but I didn't see any animal or other cause for it. Nothing at all, and the shadow didn't twitch; great, now I was seeing shit. Clearly, I was tired.
Cassie had thrown my wallet. Oh well, it was old leather, it had survived worse. Evidently she had snagged it from my locker while I had been working. I checked; I still had money, so she probably just bought a coffee or something. Picking it up I wheeled just in time to flinch as the other lights around the car all burst at once.
….What.
There's cheap, and then there is weird. Cassie seemed to feel it too, as we both stood there gaping with only the car's dash lights to keep us company; the world seemed to feel even colder and the hair on my neck was standing on end. Well at least I didn't feel tired anymore. I watched the few remaining lights warily, but they all seemed too bright, too cheery, to blow. None of those remaining were closer to my car than a hundred feet.
I turned around, stuffing my wallet in my coat, and met Cassie's wild eyed gaze. She was looking around wildly, spooked by something.
“David, let's go, please. I want to go now.”
Even weirder; her voice was steady, but it was calm and polite. It lacked her usual confrontational fire. There was a... weird undertone to it. I needed to expand my vocabulary.
Whatever it was she felt, I felt it too. Something wasn't right here. I got in the car and clicked the unlock button. Cassie didn't open the door. I could see her hand briefly swing that direction then a scuffling sound; what was going...? I shot out of the car.
Cassie was being held by... something. A shadow, or something else, something that my mind skittered away from, was holding her off the ground by her arms and legs. One tendril of shadow was wrapped around her face and mouth, but I could still see her eyes. They were wide, and staring. Pleading with me. She was held there, an impossible moment.
Then I was showered in blood as her arms flew past me.
I was in the car, driving down the well-lit streets. I could feel the blood running down my face, and the back of my neck. The passenger side door was flopping open, and I had no idea why. Where was Cassie? My mind skittered away from the question and something (a memory of an arm with perfect nails sailing past my eyes) got shut down.
I needed to get some help for Cassie. Call the cops or something. The local precinct was just down the road. I was pointed right to it, in fact, and this wasn't my normal route to go home. Why would I go home? I wasn't tired, and I needed to get help for Cassie.
The police precinct was bright; very well lit, with no missing or broken lights. That was good. I drove up and parked in the bright lot, and ran in, shouldering past a cop that didn't really move fast enough. I knew you had to go through desk sergeants at a time like this... right? Or was that just a movie/TV show kind of thing? Whatever, it wasn't important. Cassie was important.
The cop at the first desk, an older man with a Santa Clause paunch and no hair took one look at me and dropped a hand to his gun. I held my hands out and still; he looked twitchy.
“Please, you've got to help Cassie!”
I... needed to get a hold of myself.
“Alright sir, calm down. You need to calm down so you can tell me what happened. Who is Cassie? Where is she?”
He made a gesture and I was surrounded by cops. This was a good thing, but I still felt hemmed in. It wasn't important; I had to focus.
“Cassie is my girlfriend. She's at our work, um, the Go Go Grocery on 9th and McCarthy.”
“And what happened to her?”
A loaded question. What did happen to her, exactly? I'd seen it, and I wasn't sure what happened.
“Something killed her, I think.”
I was shoved into the cop's desk and cuffed. Why were they arresting me?!!? This wouldn't help Cassie at all! For a moment I was speechless. They frisked me and emptied my pockets. Then the cops shoved me into a chair and started asking questions again, while taking pictures. I took another look; there were only seven policemen here. I really wanted there to be more. At least the lights were nice and bright.
“Something killed her? Don't you mean someone?”
The cop I'd come to first was thumbing through my wallet. I didn't even remember putting it back in my pocket.
“Who killed her? Who killed Cassie, David? Was it you?”
It wasn't me! It was something else! Not a someone at all!
“It wasn't me! It was the shadows, they came out of themselves and killed her!”
That sounded crazy. I was crazy, wasn't I? I had to be crazy, or dreaming this; but the bite of the cuffs and the pressure of hands on my shoulders felt real enough.
The blood spraying across my face had felt real enough. One of the cops held my hands out while the other took more photos. There was a cut there, he saw. A small one, on his right hand. He had no idea how it got there. Had he cut his hand on a box at work? One of the cops in the back spoke up.
“No patrols there, we're actually the closest. Want me to go?”
“Yeah, take Andrews with you, and take Mr. Newton with you; get him to show you where all this took place.”
They stood me up and re-cuffed me with my hands behind my back; it was painful. I was walked roughly to a squad car and placed in the back, thoughts swimming like piranha in a river. They thought I did it. I came in here to tell them, and they already thought that I did it!
I didn't want to go back there. Not at all; but what could I do? I'd missed my chance. I tried to explain, but the look Andrews gave me said it all. I would not be getting out of this. The other cop spoke:
“So you said the parking lot of the Go Go, right? What side?”
Deep breaths. I tried to take them while watching the shadows. They weren't moving, which was... good.
“Right in front of the street, right side. You'll know when you see it.”
They pulled in past the well-lit streets to the edge of what was the only darkened space in the lot. The darkness was... sticky there, as if it clung to the space within in clear defiance to all light. The cars headlights cut it, but I couldn't help but feel there had been some form of resistance. The cop flicked on the high beams, which also seemed to take an extra heartbeat to cut the gloom.
Had he seen?
Whether he had or not, the object at the far end of the light was easy to spot... if hard to decipher. I didn't want to figure (that's a torso, her torso) it out. The cop driving, whose name I didn't know, grabbed his flashlight and got out of the car.
“Keep an eye on him, Andrews.”
“Don't. Don't get out of the car. Don't walk into that!”
I hadn't realized I'd spoken until after I'd heard it; was that really my voice? Andrews opened his door and stepped out.
“Yeah, you're not leaving me alone with that. He's not going anywhere anyway.”
I could hear the worry in his voice. I wanted to tell him he was right to be so afraid, but I didn't want to make it worse. Maybe whatever it was had left? Moved on to greener pastures, and other girlfriends?
Even from here, inside the car, I heard the back door of the Go Go slam. I hadn't even noticed, but the other cars I'd have expected to be gone were still here. A look revealed a flushed Mr. Radcliff storming out to the officers. He took one angry look at me before he started bellowing.
“That's him, officers! That's the man that killed her!”
...what? What?!?
“I never touched her! Something else got her! It wasn't me! It wasn't me!”
Even to my fevered mind that sounded pure crazy. Becky followed Mr. Radcliff out the door with clear relief on her features. I could tell in an instant that she thought I had done it too.
“You the one that called, sir?”
“I am. That's David Nelson, the murderer. You have the right man.”
“Don't be stupid! There is no way I could have... done this! I didn't even have time.”
The other cop leaned over, flashing his light into my eyes painfully as he leaned back into the car.
“You have the right to remain silent, sir. I suggest you exercise it.”
He closed the door and I shut up. I was under arrest for Cassie. The cops weren't here to get to the truth, or find the real killer. They were here to railroad me, because Mr. Radcliff had called them and sold them some form of bullshit.
“Alright sir, what did you see, exactly?”
Andrews was asking Radcliff questions while the other cop, the asshole cop, was striding into the darkness towards Cassie. I wanted to tell him not to go, that it wasn't safe, but he had told me not to talk, and he was out of range anyway unless I yelled at the top of my lungs. Maybe not even then. I could barely hear the questions Andrews was asking, and they were right next to the car.
“I saw David speed off as I was coming out and found the body. Then I went back in and called you.”
So he hadn't seen me do anything. Did he really think I could... do that... to Cassie, and do it all and drive off in five minutes, or maybe even less than that? How? I'd need an ax or something, and a lot more time... I shut down that traitorous thought and looked, carefully. Had the darkness moved again? Twitched?
I flinched as the lot light between the patrol car and where my car had been parked blew in a shower of sparks.
“What? That was odd.”
“Very odd, I just replaced those last week.”
Mr. Radcliff, you liar. You had those replaced four months ago, by me. He was right about how odd it was, at least. I found myself yelling again, sounding like a crazy person. But wasn't I crazy, after all?
“Heeey! It's coming! We need to get out of here, now!”
I had no doubt that it was coming.
Another light blew out. The jerk cop was still shining his light at the ground, showing things I really didn't want to see, but he hadn't heard me. Officer Andrews wasn't paying any attention to me at all. Mr. Radcliff glanced my way, but ignored me. Crazy or not, I had to warn them; I started pounding on the window.
“Hey, I'm not kidding! We need to leave, right now! It's coming back!”
Another light blew out to punctuate my words, this one next to the car, on the drivers side. I edged as far away from that side as I could. Praying sounded like a wonderful idea right now. Officer Andrews finally took notice and finally got angry.
“Look sir, quiet down while I take statements and we will sort all this out back at the station.”
His hand was resting on something at his belt; a taser? I almost laughed at him; a taser would probably be a mercy right now. But this was too important to risk with laughter. Never was I more sure of anything in my life.
“No! We need to leave, now! Right now!”
The car headlights blew, leaving the first cop with only his flashlight to see by. The darkness was a smothering blanket, suffocating all it touched.
“What the fuck!”
It was too late, I knew it was; but I had to try again.
“We need to leave, now! Get me out of here! Let's go!”
“Sir calm down while I take this statement.”
Mr. Radcliff was still talking, but I wasn't paying attention anymore, and neither was officer Andrews. He reached for the handle and lifted it up at the same time the other cop's flashlight blew out. Even watching for it, expecting it, I was cold.
“Christ!”
The last full word the other cop spoke. The horrid... sounds began less than a second later, as the door swung open.
“We need to go, we need to go now!”
I wanted to run, head to the light without a look back, but officer Andrews had a firm hand on my shoulder; I could feel bones creak under the strain. Then he did the worst possible thing; he turned his own flashlight to the patch of darkness, aiming for where he'd last seen his partner.
“Ray?”
Ray was dead. There was no way Ray could be anything else. This fact was confirmed when Ray's head flew past me, eyes bulging, mouth open, tongue lolling and somehow still MOVING, trying to breathe or something.
Mr. Radcliff was dazed when an arm slammed into him, spasming around a flashlight. Officer Andrews fired his gun, a loud harsh sound. It wasn't aimed my direction. I couldn't just leave things well enough alone, it seemed.
“Come on, officer! We got to go!”
I dragged Mr. Radcliff into the pool of light past the car and got him moving. Then I took off; I wasn't sure how you could fight such a thing anyway. One look told you it wasn't human, it didn't move at all like one. It FLOWED places.
The parking lot lights started blowing again, slowly. Becky was at the back door, gaping. I got near and she squeaked like a stomped mouse and closed it. I hit it in a rush and tried to open it. It was locked; I didn't have a key, I never opened the store. I pounded with my shoulder.
“Becky, open the door!”
She didn't. Mr. Radcliff reached the door and shoved me out of the way as if I were weightless, a dark stain spreading on his pants and the smell of piss in the air. He fumbled for his own keys as I turned, doing my best to master myself so that I wouldn't cause him to take longer.
The parking lot lights closest to the back door were the only ones left. One of them blew as officer Andrews reached the door himself, firing blindly behind him until his gun clicked. Despite the clear panic, he sounded almost calm.
“Anytime now.”
Mr Radcliff got the key slotted as the light to our left blew out in a shower of sparks; some of them close enough to hit us. He rammed himself the door, and I was right behind him; I didn't want to give him the chance to shut it in my face. I shouldered him out of the way and held it open for the cop, who wasted as little time as I had.
Shutting and locking it left us in a very well lit hallway. I could see Becky wringing her hands, eyes only for me. The cop on the other hand, was already undoing my cuffs while talking into his radio.
“Dispatch, dispatch, come in.”
Only static answered, which was just perfect really. Par for the course. Rubbing my wrists I felt blood, but I could deal with that later; We needed a phone or something.
“Cell phone? Anyone?”
Mr. Radcliff pulled his out; it was soaked and dead, which was odd. It was a brand new model. I looked to Becky and she shook her head. The police had taken mine as evidence so that just left the land line and the payphone at the front of the store.
The front of the store was dark. I walked down the hall, Becky giving ground before me, and hit the light switches. I half expected no response, but the place lit up; my own sigh of relief was matched by officer Andrews; Mr. Radcliff was busy trying to get his phone to work, and Becky was still looking at me as if I had an ax in my pocket.
“Are you sure you want to let him go?”
Her finger pointed my way was shaking as I passed. I could afford to ignore her; she wasn't a threat. Not after... that.
“I'm sure. He's innocent; that much is obvious. Not sure what is guilty, exactly, but it isn't him.”
He had his little notebook out, and was writing in it. I wanted to ask what, but the front windows were a bit more interesting; they led to the still lit portions of the lot, and we would be able to see if whatever it was approached us. At least until those lights died too; I had no doubt they would.
The phones were down, of course. Both the line used by employees and the payphone. They had probably been down since before, with Mr. Radcliff calling the police on his cell. We needed something; either a way to communicate or a way to defend ourselves. Flashlights first, just in case.
“The phones are out? But that's impossible! They can't be out!”
Mr. Radcliff walked noisily into the office I'd just vacated, and I could hear him slam the phone down seconds later. Of course, it was possible for them to be out since they were out. Apparently all sorts of strange things were possible tonight. I could even see the wiring from where I was, and it looked intact, so there was no reason the phones shouldn't work; they just didn't. Like we were stuck in the plot of a bad horror movie.
That's what this was; a bad movie plot. Not even worth three stars when reviewed, because the phones being out was too contrived.
This was a general grocery; we had radios, cheap cell phones, batteries for both... and a small automotive section. All the crap sold here was cheap, but it didn't need to last us long. I pulled a prepaid down, half expecting to hear Mr. Radcliff object that I should pay for it, but he just watched. As I suspected, even though it was supposed to have a charge, it didn't even turn on. Neither did the next one.
The lights confirmed we still had power, so I snagged one of the cords for the phone and plugged it in; it shouldn't take long to have enough power to turn on at least, and maybe we could get a call out. I'd let officer Andrews make it; he seemed much more calm than I felt.
Plugging batteries in the flashlights made them work just fine, so I took one for myself and left the rest for others to take. We didn't need them... yet. In the automotive section, which was really just one aisle, we sold those small cheap auto emergency kits. The kind which contained foil blankets, matches and tire foam... and flares. Four of them, per bag. They were packed just beyond the collapsible cloth caution cones. There were four per bag, and four bags left on the shelf; I stripped them all. Again, Mr. Radcliff watched without saying anything.
What else? Candles were useless, we had them, but they were the small birthday cake kind. A stiff breeze or breath would blow them out. We could make torches, those might work, but we would need a base to use; rags and paper towels we had, but a stick? Maybe broom handles? I handed Mr. Radcliff four flares as I went by; he took them without a word. Four to the cop, and four left in front of Becky since she was still avoiding me.
At least they all had flashlights now. The cop was even carrying one in addition to his standard issue, which sounded like a great idea to me. I grabbed another and tested it, then put it in the same pocket the first one was in; the flares were in the other. It had been enough time to check; I tapped the power button on the phone while it was still plugged in. I didn't care about long term battery life, after all. It didn't turn on, but the battery was charging. Another five minutes then?
“What are you doing?”
Mr Radcliff finally broke his silence. I looked to officer Andrews, but he was watching the lot out of the picture windows. I wondered why, since it was still lit, but a look back revealed that he had barricaded the employees door with a chair, of all things. Since it was the only door there, it was the only exit at our backs. I wouldn't trust that door to hold two minutes, even braced, but it should give us enough warning.
“Setting up. That thing, whoever or whatever it is, uses the darkness. So now we have plenty of light sources and a phone charging for help. We can hole up here if we need to, at least until we come up with a plan.”
I was pretty sure if officer Andrews could have called in, he already would have. I did wonder if he had a phone though; everyone had a cell nowadays, right? Was his out of power too? Had that been what had happened to all the phones on the wall, and if so, how? I looked out at the dark hole in the lights: it was as if ink had been bled there. The patrol car was dark; all the cars were well within the darkness. I didn't think it was running either, and it had been when we ran. I certainly wasn't going to risk it.
“What sort of plan do we need? We need to get out of here before that... whatever it was comes back. If it's hanging out in our lot, we need to NOT BE HERE.”
Well at least other people were seeing it; I wasn't insane. Or at least, no more than usual, assuming I could use Mr. Radcliff and officer Andrews as good indicators for sanity.
“I agree, we do. And we need to head out front, where the lights are. But for some reason whatever it is seems to have a problem with light, so having as many sources of light at our disposal couldn't hurt.”
It really didn't. It seemed like a stupid idea; trusting our lives to something so flimsy. How had it even blown out the lights at all? I had no doubt that it had, the damage was too organized. And now I sounded so very sane. Of course, better to be crazy than be dead, so light sources it was, flimsy as the idea was. It hadn't actually attacked anyone in the light yet, as far as I knew.
“Fine, we got our light sources. So now we can go... and we need to go.”
What a stupid thing to say; just like his insistence that we always call him Mr. Radcliff. So petty, so stupid.
“I'm with you there Mr. Radcliff, but I also think we need to get the word out. We need some way to let people know we're in trouble and need help.”
A warning of sorts, and vindication: 'look out world, there is something new going on, and David Newton isn't a merciless killer after all'. Of course, having more people in the know would also increase our chances, but just having the cops or whoever else looking in the right direction would be a start. The first step to both would be having officer Andrews make the calls he needed to make. I made my way over to him slowly, making sure he saw me and my empty hands.
“No phone?”
He barely moved, and his eyes never left the lot.
“It's dead. Had a nearly full charge an hour ago, and now it's dead.”
So, not coincidence then. How did it do something like that, and how could we counter it? I didn't know. But we couldn't start with a list of what this thing couldn't do, that was for sure. I checked the phone plugged in again; it started right up, it's chime loud in the pregnant silence. It even had the holy grail of all cells; four bars. I kept it plugged in and handed it to officer Andrews.
“Do you know some sort of shortcut number to your precinct?”
He nodded and dialed carefully, still not taking his eyes from the scenery outside. I could sort of understand, the sporadic traffic on the road just beyond the lot was painfully close. They didn't have a care or a clue... not a real one, at any rate.
The call went through, but I could only hear one side of the conversation.
“Sir, we have a serious situation. We need SWAT immediately at the Go Go. Officer Simmons is down, and there is some sort of serial killer or killers here.”
A pause, and he glanced at me.
“No sir, Mr. Newton is not the perpetrator. Someone else is, and we are trapped in the grocery.”
Another pause.
“Myself, Mr. Newton, and two other employees of the grocery store. We need a full response, as soon as possible.”
Another pause.
“I understand sir.”
He hung up and put the phone down just as carefully as he'd dialed it.
“Communications are down at the precinct. He's sending a few officers, but the SWAT unit on standby has been deployed on another call. Orders are to sit tight and wait for backup. Is there a television or radio in the building? In the break room or something?”
“Not that I'm aware of. Maybe Mr. Radcliff has one, but the employees aren't allowed one.”
It probably wouldn't work anyway, if we had one. Officer Andrews just nodded and walked over to where Mr. Radcliff and Becky were huddling. I took over the watch. I didn't leave when they did, pulling the chair and cautiously heading back to the offices. The door leading out the back seemed to have held, anyway. It was metal and had huge deadbolts, so it was far more likely anything coming would come through the glass. Or maybe not, since the lights were still on out front.
The meeting in the back was still going on when the car pulled into the lot.
“Guys, we got company!”
I flashed my light when the car drove near. I had to keep them from pulling around the side and seeing the mess back there. They saw me and pulled up just as officer Andrews came back with Mr. Radcliff and Becky in tow. Mr. Radcliff wasted no time bracing the door again, while officer Andrews unlocked the front doors with Mr. Radcliff's keys.
My attention wasn't on the two cops as they got out; I noticed the vests and shotguns, and the spares they carried. My attention was on the lights around the far side of the lot. Specifically, the one that had just winked out.
“Andrews, what's going on? We're supposed to be looking for a killer or killers?”
He sounded nervous; a touch afraid. It would get worse for him soon.
“Yes, but I'd rather evacuate the civilians and then search, if we have to search at all. I don't know how many are out there, and I'd really rather wait for SWAT before trying to pin them down. As things stand, they could outnumber us.”
He was lying. He was looking right at me, a pointed glare, while he was doing it. He didn't want his fellow officers to know what was really going on. Was he afraid of being called crazy, like I had been? Of course he was, and from the way Mr. Radcliff was looking on he was too. Well I wasn't about to rock the boat. Not if we got out of here, and I wasn't called a murderer. So I kept silent while the two newcomers mulled it over. The other cop didn't even hesitate to step forward and put himself in Andrews' face. Andrews took advantage, pulling the vest out of the guy's hands as spittle flew.
“Things are pretty crazy out there, but I'm not sure we should give up on finding the perp just yet. He did kill one of our own after all, in addition to whoever else tonight.”
“We won't be able to do much with just the three of us. This is a big area to cover.”
Officer Andrews pointed out, calmly. I had to admit it, I was jealous of his calm; it seemed inhuman.
“We should at least secure the crime scene, something also hard to do with only three of us.”
The other cop wanted no part of this at all, and everyone could tell. The aggressive officer curled his lip in disgust. Officer Andrews, our cop, the one who knew, stood firm.
“If you want to. My cruiser was disabled. You two can stay here and secure the scene if you want; I'll be escorting the civilians out.”
The other cop wasn't backing down.
“Show us the scene, and we'll make the decision from there.”
I moved up to whisper to Andrews, appearances be damned.
“Go ahead, I'll keep lookout here.”
I didn't want to see… that again. I tapped his flashlights and moved off, taking my self appointed post over our only working transportation.
“Weren't you a suspect, earlier?”
He gave me the 'you are a loathsome bug waiting to be squashed' look but didn't allow me to respond.
Leshawn, you stay with this guy, I'll scope it out.”
Officer Leshawn did not appear to have any problem with that at all if his sigh of relief was any indication. He took a spot a good six feet away and started watching me as the others crept to the back door again. They were too loud for my liking. So he thought I would bolt with the car if left alone; I had to admit, now that the thought was in my head I found it hard to shake out.
I was even calculating the odds. I was reasonably sure that I could reach the car before officer Leshawn caught up to me, and reasonably sure that either the keys were in it, or there were spares. But the area was still lit, with most of the lights functioning just fine. The one that had winked out before now had a friend.
That did not bode at all well.
A quick glance confirmed that section as the only one having problems, so I focused on it. The others were staying on. I wonder when the second light had gone off? Timing it might have given me an idea on how long it took for the thing to do whatever it was doing… I needed to pay more attention.
“What are you looking at?”
Do I tell him? I should tell him.
“The lights. Just before the… murders, the lights in the area always blow out.”
“Ah, so that's why the flashlights and flares.”
He nodded to my pockets and pulled out his flashlight. He was a cop, of course he noticed. Then he proved that for all his skills, he didn't really know.
“So the perps smash all the lights before they go in? How do they do it, do you know? You caught any of them at it?”
“No… the lights just blow out. I did not see how it was done, or figure out how it was done, for that matter. They just break. And then when the lights are out, you get torn apart.”
“Torn apart?”
I had to say this. Had to relive it, in order to make him understand.
“Torn apart. Limbs and head separated from the torso, usually in a hurry.”
I swallowed bile, and he opened his mouth.
“And before you ask, no I don't know how. I really didn't stick around to find out; however it happens, it's fast.”
A lie, and I think he knows it. But I couldn't tell him that they seemed to be torn apart while hanging in midair, held by shadows. Either they would see it, or they wouldn't. If they stayed here, I had no doubt at all that they would see it; probably the second we left.
No further lights had burned out or broken before the other group came back. I heard them before I saw them; the one cop was all noise and swagger.
“We can secure the scene easily. No one is around, the field of view is perfect, and we're both heavily armed. We can hold here, and you can take the witnesses to the station; just send us some more backup when you can.”
His words rang hollow to me. I could hear the knowledge that he couldn't see to stop an attack behind them. I didn't have to focus hard to remember how thick, how syrupy, how cloying the darkness had been. He was probably betting on the 'killers' being gone. He didn't want to admit to his boss that his job was a lost cause at this point. Much like any of us not wanting to tell the whole truth and wind up in rubber rooms with long sleeved jackets of our very own. I was fine with letting him try if he wanted, though. If officer Andrews wanted to make the effort I was all for it, but I just wanted out of here.
The lights cut out.
All of them.
The aggressive cop, the one who didn't KNOW, flicked his flashlight on and played the light around the ceiling.
“What?!? Power outage?”
I shared a look with officer Andrews, we were both at the windows now. He motioned Mr. Radcliff to get the doors. We were leaving, now. Mr. Radcliff stepped up without so much as a peep, his own flashlight showing me how much he was sweating. Becky was right behind him, so close that when he stopped to open the main doors she ground her chest into him.
“You can stay if you want, but we're going. I highly suggest you go with us, regardless of any consequences. Tonight isn't...normal.”
I snagged a flare from my pocket, hoping I was wrong.
“You're probably right… we were having a lot of calls the last 30… a lot of people out, and dispatch beginning to click over to automation. Something big could be going on….”
He was finally seeing the light it seemed, but he was seconds too late. I popped the flare just in time to reveal the something that I'd survived before.
It was a shadow, but that much I'd known before. What I hadn't seen was that like a shadow, it had no real depth to it at all, like an inky black sheet of paper empowered by malevolent will. It had a large caricature of hands tipped in claws, and a mouth that had shard-like teeth. It screamed when the light from the flare hit it in the middle of lazily wafting to us, showing none of the speed I'd seen it move with before.
It was far too close.
Then with a screech like coffin nails against concrete, it wasn't close anymore. I stared at the flare in my hand; was it really just that simple? I wasn't going to waste the chance.
“Let's go, let's go!”
I was second out the door, behind Me. Radcliff. Officer Andrews was busy shoving his fellow cops, who were doing reasonable statue impressions. Becky was too, staring off at where the thing had left. We didn't have time for this! I grabbed Becky and pulled her along. Mr. Radcliff was already in the car, waiting in the back with the door shut. I wasn't about to put myself in there until the keys were produced and a driver was in the car, but I didn't tell either of them that.
“Get in, stupid, there's no time!”
“Come on you two, let's go! We can't stay here!”
Officer Andrews and I shared a moment of deja vu of some kind, a moment of clarity, noticing we were mirroring each other. We looked briefly into each other's souls and found the same thought, the same desire not to die, not to die here like this, before we broke the moment by mutual consent and worked on saving others again.
The pained but very present screech from somewhere just beyond the light cast by the bright flare helped. Mr. Radcliff was waving his flashlight wildly in the window farthest from the flare I'd dropped, hoping to keep the thing from coming to him. Becky was fumbling for her flashlight too, hopefully to help with that. The cops finally got moving, breaking out their own lights. No one else popped a flare; even though the one I used seemed to be working, I don't think anyone wanted to waste one. I know I didn't. None of us wanted to cross to the other side of the car, so the cops got in the passenger side, the aggressive guy first, crossing over the radio and other crap with the keys in one hand and light in the other, and Leshawn coming to rest in the front passenger side.
I got sandwiched between Becky and Officer Andrews, but I didn't care. Wonder of wonders, the car started and the jerk wasted no time throwing it in gear. He was smart enough to turn the lights on top of the car on as he did so. It couldn't hurt.
The real problem was where to go. Sure, we got out of the parking lot with the cop driving a good 40 miles per hour and almost rolling us on the turn to the street, but the lights were still out. It wasn't just the grocery store; it was all the lights, everywhere. Power was out over the whole city, it seemed.
“The precinct; it has back up power.”
Well it was closer than the hospital.
We managed the entire trip without unusual incident, only having to dodge a few cars that didn't want to yield for a cop car. They were studiously driving the speed limit when we passed, so it was obvious that they didn't know, but as much as I wanted to, I couldn't warn them. If they were lucky, they would never know how lucky they had needed to be.
The precinct was still there and still well lit, but the number of police cars left in their parking lot was down to two. A glance at officer Andrews confirmed how odd that was; they must have all hands on deck dealing with calls.
Which meant that whatever else was going on, there had to be more shadows or whatever they were out there, murdering other people in other places. Even if some of the calls were looting or normal crimes due to the power going out, at least some of those cops had to be responding to calls like Mr. Radcliffs.
Officer Andrews knew it too, and the other cops had to suspect.
Now the conversion process from unbeliever to believer had to start all over again. That was no longer my concern, though; mine was to figure out how I could get the police to let me stay. The precinct still had power courtesy of what had to be its own generator; that made it safer than just about anywhere else. I could always try the hospital, but the idea of potentially having to save wounded and sick people with flares did not appeal to me. Better to stay far away, so I didn't need to tempt my conscience.
We all piled into the empty lobby or whatever it was called. I didn't care, aside from noting that it was in fact empty this time. The desk sergeant’s desk really should be manned, if only to keep someone from wandering in and making off with the stationary or occasional mug. But instead there was no one. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed that it had only been a bit over a half an hour since I'd been here last; could everything go to hell that quickly, truly?
The aggressive cop went straight through the room to the other side, and to a locked door, which he opened. Officer Leshawn went though the room to the right, and another door, this one closed but not locked. Officer Andrews wasted no time turning to us and point to chairs.
“Sit. I need to find my superiors and report in. You all need to stay until we take your statements. We won't stop you from calling anyone you need to, or checking up on family, but if you leave, I will find you. Got it?”
He didn't want to try explaining what he'd seen alone. I nodded and parked myself as close to dead center in the room as I could. I didn't have anyone to contact, but Becky and Mr. Radcliff did, because they wandered toward the payphone in the corner. Becky looked torn; as if she wanted to stay right next to Mr. Radcliff, but also wanted to give him privacy. I vaguely wondered why she had latched onto him, but it really didn't matter.
Maybe stuff like that would matter again, but it didn't right now.
The aggressive one came back; I wished I could remember his name. He was a walking armory, which must be where he just came from: a shotgun, one of those stubby machine guns, and no less than four pistols complete with ammunition hung from him as he strode back into view, large and in charge.
Whatever helped him feel better about things, I guess. I for one would stick to my flares.
The phones weren't ringing. I expected them to be ringing off the hook, given the busy message we had received from 911, but it was blissfully silent.
“Alright, where is Leshawn?”
The aggressive cop asked with a put-upon sigh. I pointed to the room he went into.
“Well, that's odd. The captain ain't here, so why would he still be in his office?”
He swaggered over, opened the door and walked right in. I heard sobbing before the door closed. Then angry voices raised, briefly, before both came out. Leshawn wouldn't look anyone in the eye, and I made it a point not to notice anything else.
The aggressive cop stopped right in front of me, grip on the gun in his holster tightening.
“So, statements. Follow me.”
I followed while Leshawn singled out Becky. Might as well get this over with. There seemed a very real possibility I could get shot if I tried to wait for Officer Andrews. He stopped in front of a desk and plopped down with a rattle. I pulled up a chair and waited.
“Alright, so what happened on the 27th?”
I looked. Technically it was now after midnight, so it was the 28th of October. Not even two hours ago. I looked at him, this cop; bored even now, and working very hard to convince himself that he hadn't seen what he had. Trying to rationalize with all that he was.
“What's your name, officer?”
He colored, embarrassed. What use was embarrassment now?
“Officer Tyran.”
No first name, he was trying to keep distance.
“Well officer Tyran, this… I really can't talk about this yet…”
He scowled before I could continue and I raised a hand.
“But I can write it out, and you can sign it as a witness. Will that work for you?”
He nodded and moved, waving me into the seat he vacated.
“Use the computer instead, that way we can be sure it'll be legible.”
We switched chairs. He was still watching me like a hawk, but it was at least a minor improvement. Telling the story this way I could hold the tears in. Officer Tyran didn't ask questions, just watched in silence and then hit print when it was obvious I was done. I had honestly expected more questions, but maybe they had gotten enough from my earlier rambling? I didn't know, I wasn't all that together the first time. Or maybe officer Tyran just didn't care. I know in his place, I wouldn't care.
What could I say that was useful anyway? He already knew the important things.
I looked up and officer Leshawn was interviewing Mr. Radliff now with Becky silent and pensive at his side. Officer Andrews was nowhere to be seen, however, and I really wanted to know where he had gone. I pointed to the door he went through.
“Officer Tyran. What is back that way?”
“The old holding cells. There are some drunk tanks back there, and some old store rooms.”
“But not enough to take a cop almost twenty minutes to tour.”
He looked at me, clearly startled.
“You're right. I take it you want to come?”
I nodded and he shifted a gun into my reach. I pulled a flare instead, and he nodded, taking point. Becky watched us go, but the others seemed to be too busy acting normal.
The hallway was as small as officer Tyran suggested, and rather plain doors led off from either side; one on the right, and three on the left. Back here, away from the showroom of sorts that was the lobby, one could see traces of rot and neglect. The floor tiles, an ugly yellow linoleum, cracked and peeling. The paint, dirty and faded. Even the ceiling tiles looked about ready to fall. Budget cuts, I guess.
Officer Tyran opened the one door on the right first, bypassing the first door on the left. It led to three old holding cells bolted into a concrete floor. There was a desk off to one side, facing the cells, with an old wooden chair under it. It all looked old but serviceable and was empty.
We backtracked to the first door on the left. It led into the call routing office for the precinct. It was well soundproofed, which was why we hadn't heard officer Andrews valiantly fighting a losing battle between the phone and radio calls. He wasn't alone however.
She was tiny, barely five and half feet if that, blonde and petite and rather plain, the kind of person you could see getting lost in a shuffle of some sort. She was moving between phone and radio with a ruffled calm, a sense of panic underneath that never quite bled fully into her voice as she told people to hold while trying to call her colleagues for status updates.
Even with help it was clear she was swamped, and many of her fellow cops weren't answering.
Officer Andrews looked up and noticed we were there. He crooked a finger and we backed out.
“Sally hasn't seen Sergeant Sims, who is supposed to be manning the desk, for a good fifteen to twenty minutes. Shortly after I left on to secure the crime scene the 911 service started getting inundated with calls, with the appropriate ones getting routed to us. Shorty after cops started calling in asking for back up.”
Sounded familiar, and I could see officer Tyran following along.
“Soon after my call Lieutenant Brown made a command decision and started sending every available unit to the site of previous calls; he went to one of the locations himself. Sergeant Sims and Sally were left as the only presence in the building as a result. A few minutes before we arrived Sally called the front desk to ask for help with all this and there was no answer. I was going to investigate, but Sally needed my help here.”
There was something wrong in all that, but I couldn't pin down what it was. Officer Tyran seemed to have a better handle on it though.
“What call did the lieutenant go on?”
“The one he sent Jenkins to. He might have just arrived on location now; that's what Sally was expecting.”
Left unsaid of course was the elephant in the corner of the dispatch room. Namely, what all those calls and lack of responses from their fellow cops actually meant. I was no better; I didn't want to mention it either though I was surprised by the lack of people here. I would have thought those people like myself, who were in the know, would have spotted this place and descended like locusts on a wheat field.
Officer Tyran took charge.
“Alright, well, you help Sally. Leshawn's got the front for now, and I'll go look for the Sarge.”
He looked at me and I nodded. As long as the lights stayed on, I had his back. I could do that much at least. Officer Andrews gave me a different look, then nodded himself.
“Be careful.”
Then he disappeared back inside.
We went on to the next door, officer Tyran with shotgun in hand and half raised, and myself with a flashlight and a flare. Wouldn't it be funny to have survived the shadow things, and die to some random serial killer in a cop shop? The thought was dark, but not enough to make me let go of my chosen weapons; failing anything else I could use the flashlight as an improvised club, for at least a few swings anyway.
The next door opened into a yawning black hole and I stepped back despite myself. Officer Tyran wasted no time flicking the light switch with a frown. into a typical office records room, with boxes stacked on metal shelves and a very old computer set on a desk in the corner. It wasn't that big a room, you could tell at a glance that it was empty, though officer Tyran entered to make sure anyway.
“That door should have been locked.”
Well that explained a little; like nothing at all.
Officer Tyran left the tiny room and closed the door. He left the light on. The next door I was ready, and my flashlight pierced the darkened gloom before officer Tyran found the light switch. This room was a typical office style broom closet. Brooms, mops, other cleaning supplies. One of those duster wands, which kind of surprised me. But no sergeant.
“Alright, one last place to check.”
I thought that was all there was to this place? A strip mall sort of building, put up in a matter of hours, with nothing on either side. What more was there… oh.
“Yeah, there is a small basement, where the generator and some backup stuff is stored. It's usually locked too, but the desk sergeant on duty has the keys. Those keys were not usually where he keeps them when we got in.”
Made sense.
“It's well lit too, though, right?”
I did not like how pitiful my voice sounded, the pathetic note of pleading something I couldn't exorcise. He just nodded.
“Yeah, it is. Mostly finished, but not entirely. Bare bulbs instead of fixtures, and some partitions. It was going to be a small lab, before the budget cuts.”
I didn't care about the budget cuts, but the noise was fine. Silence would have been intolerable. He led me back to the lobby. Officer Leshawn, Becky, and Mr. Radcliff were all still there, doing a whole lot of nothing.
Well that wasn't entirely true; they were staring through the glass door at the darkness outside. The power still wasn't on out there, and there still weren't any other people here. What was keeping them?
“Andrews and Sally are fine, back in the dispatch office. Been a lot of calls tonight. Sarge is somewhere; going to check the basement.”
The trio stayed silent. Officer Tyran led the way to the third door out of the lobby, in the back. The staircase down would not have been out of place in a house, and the light switch was on the right side. It was up, and the lights down at the bottom were on.
“Sarge?”
Just like in the hall, officer Tyran led the way and I readied my lights. It was a good thing I did, since after the light at the landing, the place was dark. I could hear a generator chugging merrily away off to my left, but couldn't see anything beyond the small patch of light. Officer Tyran bumped into me, recoiling from the pitch nothingness.
I popped a flare immediately.
Only after it was burning did I turn my flashlight on.
I panned it left and stepped out from behind him, my light immediately fell upon a body. I recognized it immediately as the cop who was at the desk my first time here. He was lying on his stomach and there was a small pond of blood on the floor. Directly above him was a broken light bulb in its socket; and I could see more of the same in every direction.
“Shit! Sarge!”
Officer Tyran didn't even hesitate. I covered him with the light as he moved. The darkness seemed to give way, but only after an eternal moment. The generator was pristine. The sergeant was not. All it took was his fellow officer to roll him over to expose his ribcage and guts. The good officer let him roll back into place. I hoped it was the one from the store; I didn't like the alternative.
“We need to figure out how it got in.”
He looked at me. I don't think he saw me.
“Wake up! We need to figure out how it got in. I don't know why, but it didn't hurt the generator. But if it does, this whole building goes dark. We really don't want that to happen.”
I walked past him to check the gas. Doing that with an open flare in my hand probably wasn't the brightest idea, but it was better than tossing it on the floor and praying whoever filled the machine was careful.
The gauge said the generator was half full. I hoped that meant it had hours in it yet, and would last until morning, but I couldn't take the chance. There were four large gas cans stored down here on a shelf, and checking them revealed one empty, the rest sloshing full happily.
“Mr. Radcliff, Becky! Come down here please.”
Best to do this calmly. We didn't have much time if it was just me and officer Tyran.
“Why are you calling them?”
“We need the flares they are carrying… just in case. Unless you have some.”
He shook his head.
“Nah, we normally have some road flares in the cars but we don't store any here.”
Heads silhouetted the doorway at the top of the stairs.
“Come down, we need your help.”
Mr. Radcliff sounded more scared than at the store as he answered.
“With what?”
“We need your flares down here; the lights are out.”
A few thunks and the flares rolled to a stop at officer Tyran's feet. We were both less than happy about that, but he was more vocal about it.
“You bastard! What if it had gone off, and set the place on fire? Are you stupid?!?”
I just gathered the flare that came my way up as the head disappeared into the lobby again. Officer Tyran managed to find the other two. A stray thought had me yell up to them again.
“We need light bulbs down here too! Check the supply closet please.”
Officer Tyran blinked. I probably should have just grabbed any light bulbs the first time I was there. Maybe I still would, if Mr. Radcliff didn't. I was pretty sure he had just ignored me.
“Alright, so, I'm not a fan of splitting up. So let's do this the smart way. Which way is the door outside?”
There had to be a door that led to outside. I refused to think the shadow thing could make it's own.
“It's this way.”
He led me to the left and through some bare unpainted walls. The door that led out was one of those cellar style doors that opened up at the end of a series of steps. Both doors were open wide and the night beyond was a shade that seemed even darker than what was in here. That didn't seem possible, and yet it did.
Of course, the flare chose that moment to burn itself out with a muted hiss. For a moment, a terrible moment, I just stared at it. It should have lasted at least 10 minutes longer than that. Was there a reaction? Had the darkness seen us, was it responding? Officer Tyran popped one of his and dropped it at our feet.
“Snap out of it. We need to get the doors closed.”
Ugh, he was right. That moment of hesitation could have easily killed us both. I pulled a flare of my own and threw it outside.
“Just in case, we are now covered both ways.”
He nodded and grabbed the right-hand door. I grabbed the left, and we pulled together. The slam was loud, but should it have been louder? Officer Tyran threw the bolt as soon as he could, and slammed the door with a fist, a casual and happy gesture.
Something else on the other side slammed back.
We both almost jumped out of the lighting. That would have been a critical mistake; I KNEW it. The pounding was not repeated, which made me feel more certain that the basement wasn't secure. Officer Tyran felt the same way; his look was clear. He now knew too.
“No splitting up. That's dumb shit for actors in badly written movies.”
I couldn't agree more.
“Same deal? I pick up the flare, you have your gun?”
He picked up the flare and gestured while pulling his pistol, keeping the shotgun slung.
“How about we both use them? I don't feel like taking chances.”
While I didn't like the idea of using our flares so quickly, especially since they seemed defective, I couldn't deny the logic. We needed to know for sure. So I popped my third and we started off through the half made halls.
We got about half way there when the background noise of the generator stopped.
In hindsight, I really should have left a flare or a light on it. We started back immediately. The generator was no longer pristine. Instead it was missing the obviously placed carburetor it used to have. I only had to glance at officer Tyran to know how screwed we were. I looked around, but didn't see it; it wasn't smashed, just flat removed from what had been a working motor. I couldn't even begin to guess how; there were no tools lying around.
It didn't matter, anyway. Even if we found the part, we didn't have the tools to replace it either. Maybe in the cars… but we wouldn't make it to the cars. I was positive of that.
“Are there emergency lights?”
“Yeah, and they'll kick on in a minute, just not down here. Too dim to do us any good though.”
He was probably right; I had noted the little boxes above all the doorways on the way in; they were the kind with the red light bulbs so dim a full moon was brighter. Since the moon hadn't stopped anything that was going on tonight, those boxes probably wouldn't either. The only thing they would do would be to allow us to see what was coming for us.
And on that happy note, officer Tyran's flare stuttered.
No sooner had his eyes widened than it went out. He had the other out as I began to move, but it was too late.
He was taken by the shadows at his back.
The first screams began before he was even fully out of the light from my flare. I rushed in regardless, as the shots started. They were spastic, jerking shots that were aimed my direction rather than the danger. One plucked at my shirt as I ran in.
I didn't see the shadow thing that took him, that vanished with a hiss like an overloading boiler before the might of my flare. From the light cast, officer Tyran looked fine. Well except for the unseeing eyes and all the blood. I checked for a pulse on still warm skin, and did not find it; I didn't want to move him to see what his back looked like. His hand still clutched his last flare in a death grip; I was surprised he hadn't done more than bend it.
“Hello down there! What happened?!?”
I carefully slid that flare free and lit it up. I couldn't trust them to last as long as they should, so I'd have to chain them, while I still had them. I looked up into the bright unsteady beams of flashlights, which gave me an idea.
“I'm coming up! Leave those flashlights at the door, and shining this way!”
They didn't, of course, but they did keep them shining the right direction. I wasn't sure if the things had to physically travel, but trying to cut them off if they did seem better than just doing nothing. I made it halfway up the steps before my old flare fizzled; by my own headcount that was seven minutes earlier than it should have lasted. It was getting worse.
Two flares left, not counting the ones upstairs. At most ten minutes of an actual sphere of light, rather than being limited to beams. Mere beams of light were no good.
The faces over the wavering beams of light were pale, drawn, and wild-eyed. My own vision was ruined from all the different sources; I couldn't see beyond them. But I could feel it – the oppression in the darkness; it closed around us from all sides. There was no escaping it.
“The generator is dead. Somehow the shadows got in and got it.”
None of them wanted to ask the inevitable, but Becky apparently felt compelled.
“The other policeman?”
I just shook my head as I shouldered past, taking my flashlights out.
“Shut the door.”
They shut it and I turned my flashlights on, wedging them in between two books on a desk in front of the now shut door, making sure they would stay put. They weren't police lights, so if the battery draining thing was really a side effect of what was going on and not just my own madness, we had maybe fifteen minutes before whatever these things were could walk through that door again. The light! He should have taken officer Tyran's flashlight. Well, he wasn't going back for it.
The emergency lights had kicked on, and they were every bit as crappy as promised. Officer Andrews and Sally pulled into view as I finished while Becky was still wringing her hands. Officer Andrews had used one of his flares to light the way… I wondered what took him so long to appear? The dispatch office wasn't that far away, and the generator had been out for at least three minutes by now. Mr Radcliff walked off rapidly, light bouncing wildly and careening off things with muttered curses.
What had I missed in my time down below?
“Officer Andrews, we need more lights. And car keys if you have them. It's not going to be safe here anymore.”
The good officer noted in an instant who was missing. I crooked my head at the basement door and he nodded.
“Well the only patrol car left is officer Tyrans, so I can't do much there.”
Idiot! You should have remembered the keys! I truly was a moron.
“I have a car. Or rather, a full-size pick-up truck. A ford extended cab.”
Sally jingled keys in front of us, her face stark and wan over her darkened uniform in the dim lighting. I could kiss her. We wouldn't even have to worry about room.
“Excellent! Let's go. Now.”
“But… we can't just….”
I'd forgotten. Sally knew, but she didn't KNOW. We didn't have time to handle this, my flare was down to perhaps two minutes. Officer Andrews stepped up.
“We have to. Even if you don't believe what's going on, what your fellow policemen were telling you, it's still just you and me and a bunch of untrained civilians in the dark against a murderer or bunch of murderers who followed us. Without communication we are going to have to travel to backup, not have backup travel to us. How did Tyran die?”
I knew what he was really asking.
“He never even saw what hit him. I didn't either. One moment he was there, the next he was just gone.”
I didn't think I needed to mention the screams; they had likely heard them, after all. Sally didn't really seem to need much convincing; she headed right for the door. Officer Andrews had to work to beat her to it, shotgun out. Mr. Radliff came back just in time to see us heading out and dropped the rope he'd gathered.
“What was that for?”
He kicked it aside on his way to meet us.
“To tie the door shut since it didn't lock.”
“Pick it up. Good rope is always useful.”
Failing anything else, we could burn it for more light. He looked at me, annoyed, but did it.
One minute before I could no longer trust my flare. Becky still had hers, and officer Andrews had his, but this was bad. Beyond merely bad in fact. The moment he unlocked the door officer Andrews popped a flare; I sighed, grateful. I had already resolved to pop my own, but maybe now I didn't need to.
When Becky lit off one of hers, I knew I didn't. I wanted to jump down her throat over it, but she was scared and it meant I could save mine. The parking lot still had it's same vehicles - one was the patrol car we had come in, the other was an older model mustang, which meant the lone truck was Sally's. It was a nice one, brand new. My flare chose this time to die, right on schedule so to speak, and I readied another one.
As we hit the doors I realized something.
“Where is officer Leshawn?”
No one even looked around for him; Officer Andrews was the only one that would look me in the eye. Huh; I wonder how...?
No. there was no time or point to asking that question. It didn't matter what had happened; what mattered is he was no longer here to help or worry about. The dark was too oppressive to worry about anything else right now.
And of course, because things had been going so well on our little trip, everything had to go to hell in an instant.
Sally was unlocking her driver's side door with officer Andrews right next to her, still holding onto the flare he'd popped when she was pulled under it. The screams began immediately, but no sooner had I popped a flare – my last – and hit the concrete than they stopped.
Two. She had managed two screams.
My eyes met those of officer Andrews on the other side; the writhing darkness between us flitting between us, hiding evidence of its carnage in turns and yowling like a cat with a freshly stomped tail. It was enough for me to focus on the single most important thing – the broken key still grasped in what was left of Sally's right hand.
Well we weren't getting out that way.
I turned back in time to see Mr. Radcliff and Becky… running hand in hand. With two flares between them. I wished them luck.
It was their right to try, but I didn't give them good odds.
I turned and officer Andrews was drawing his pistol; the darkness now felt like a weight settling with heavy chain around us. A crushing, hurtful weight that drove me down with every breath I took.
“So, what's the plan?”
“We go back inside, make torches from the rags and turpentine in the supply closet, and….”
The water came from everywhere at once, a complete torrent that knocked me from my feet and doused my flare. I stood there dumbly for a moment, before the arms of pure black wound their way around me in a delicate, sensual embrace.
I stared back at officer Andrews as he stared at me; beyond him I could see the things, the shadows, circling just beyond the painful light.
“I thought you… you said you didn't do this! You…!”
His face hardened and he raised his gun. Then the water hit him, snuffing his flare.
He got one scream. His hot blood sprayed me as he went down.
The shadow turned me around, embracing me.
“Lover.” it whispered.
I got one scream too.
Life is never easy. Anyone who tells you life is good, that life is a wonderful miracle, has either got their heads in the pixie dust crack pipe or is just blowing smoke up your ass on purpose. The fact is, life is a messy brutal affair where the strong dominate the weak, and where even the strong can die if unlucky.
Nagrij
Life is never easy. Anyone who tells you life is good, that life is a wonderful miracle, has either got their heads in the pixie dust crack pipe or is just blowing smoke up your ass on purpose. The fact is, life is a messy brutal affair where the strong dominate the weak, and where even the strong can die if unlucky.
All throughout history you see it; the roman's, destroying or subjugating at will, the vikings and Visigoths doing the same, all the way up to the Nazi's and some assholes in Africa who call themselves warlords.
It's only gotten worse with the emergence of the meta-human, or mutant gene. Villains everywhere, taking everything they want or that isn't nailed down, and 'heroes' that are little better than thugs at the best of times, stopping them with untold amounts of collateral damage, both in property and lives. People reveling in murder and bloodshed, made worse by the fact that they have the equivalent of small tactical nukes up their sleeves... or worse.
The world was on a slow spiral, circling around the giant universal toilet bowl counter-clockwise, and it had momentum now. To act is if life was dandy, as if the rogue comet that was out there couldn't wind it's way through the uncaring universe in order to kill us all, or that mankind itself wasn't a jumped up primate species only recently graduated from throwing it's own poo, and therefore knew next to nothing about what was really going on, and was likely deluded about the other half. To think anything less was to deny the truth.
Penny looks at me, considering my argument. She has always harped on me to share my innermost thoughts, to bare my soul, she calls it. So, I got tired of listening to her gripe, and did just that. Her eyes had glazed about halfway through, and she took a while, but eventually she had her well thought response:
“Bullshit. Don't be emo, Victor.”
I took a long drag off my cigarette. I loved Penny like a sister, but some days she could grate on my nerves.
“Not being emo, point out to me one thing I said, that's wrong.”
Her using my full name was a prelude to bad things, invariably. I flicked my cancer stick butt off a passing businessman’s jacket; he didn't notice, or pretended not to, I wasn't sure and didn't care which.
“Well the heroes would be able to stop any silly comet from smashing into earth. They are set up for that sort of thing.”
I shook my head; so naive.
“No they aren't. Our satellites can't even detect mot of them until they are already passed us, in most cases. The devisors are too busy building new death rays and nukes to keep an eye on space, and how is champion, to use an example, going to stop a meteorite big enough to kill us all? 5 miles wide, traveling at 10000 miles per second, how is he even going to react? By the time you see it, it's too late.
And that's just one space born danger. Massive radiation, or sun spots are two more. How is a hero going to stop those?”
She looked up at me, right into my eyes, and said in an utter deadpan:
“I don't know.”
I was not perturbed.
“Of course you don't. That's because they can't.”
“Of course they can, or we'd all be dead already... right?”
I shook my end and pulled another menthol.
“Nope, it's just never come up. However that don't mean it won't. Humanity won't be that lucky. We've been pretty lucky as a collective for a few millennium, but it'll end. It always does.”
“Waiting for that seems silly. When was the last time a big meteor struck the earth?”
“About three thousand years ago. It's what hit near the Sahara, and turned it into a desert; caused earthquakes as far away as china, volcanoes to blow in chains across half the world, Jericho to fall, not to mention famine and drought that almost killed humanity before it began. The Chinese and Egyptians both wrote about it.”
She opened her mouth. I decided to preempt her, lighting up as I did.
“The one before that as best as anyone can tell was another two thousand years back, though we have no recorded evidence of it, there is some archeological and geological evidence of it. Earlier periods of Earth's history point to it getting hit often by crap from space, and big crap on occasion. What all that really means is, we're due.”
Penny shrugged, evincing the single most infuriating attitude I ever encountered in humanity. The 'if it's not in front of my face, it's not a real problem' attitude.
“I feel like you're borrowing trouble here; you can't change if we get hit or not, or even if we get nailed by a car tomorrow. You should just be worrying about the stuff you can change, change it, relax, and have some fun for once.”
“Define fun, Penny.”
My second cigarette was now so much ash. Penny was my best friend, had been since first grade, but she could bug the shit out of me sometimes. I probably did her too; she was too flippant, too polly-anna chipper for me sometimes.
I'm sure I bugged her just as much by being too 'dark', or whatever. She probably didn't appreciate the pixie dust comment earlier. We stopped outside the diner where she worked, and I gave her a once over.
Washed out brown hair, watery brown eyes with sleep bruising painting them, a figure just beginning to go from average to full figured (which only stood to reason since the coming of her daughter Allison) she had come a long way from the mousy kid I'd known, and while still missing gorgeous she managed to hit pretty on the head.
It was a shame that life was killing her.
After the dreams of college had ended for her, and the job at the diner came along as a way to feed herself, the scum sucking bar rat that had married her then left, the bills and debts piling up... she was aging far past her years: faint lines crow's feet and laugh lines already visible. And yet she still happy. Almost artificially so. If I didn't know better, I'd have suspected drugs.
Hell I did know better, and I still suspected drugs on occasion.
She might have wanted to for all I know, she just didn't have the money for it.
“Vic, I'm here. Safely at work. You can stop staring, and get the fuck home. You scare the regulars.”
That was smirk worthy, so I did it.
“Weaklings. I'm not going to hurt them. Whatever, have a good day at work, and call me if you get off early. Don't forget.”
“Yeah yeah, sure sure, sheesh, you forget ONE TIME...”
I just stared at her. She knew damn well it was more than once. Hell it was once this week alone. Sure, she didn't believe it, but this area was dangerous. Was it so wrong to make sure she got home to her young one safe? She said it was smothering.
But smothered was better than robbed raped and killed in an alley any day of the week. Of course, she just told me to get out more. I could hear her voice in my head now, as I walked to my own job: 'you need more friends than just me'. Like hell I did. Other people were assholes.
Some people were... less assholish than others, but everyone was a bag of dicks, waiting to piss a person off. Contrary to what Penny thought, I did have places to be; at least today. I worked part time night shift picking stock in a warehouse, but that hardly paid much of anything at all. So it was time for me to once again work the odd jobs market.
Everyone had something that needed done, asshole or not. For some it was simple yard work; for others it was plumbing, or a hole in their house’s foundation, or something even more complex. Those same people did not always have the money to pay a professional to fix such problems. Around here, that went without saying. So a certain enterprising high school graduate or two who managed to teach themselves how to repair such things could always make a quick buck under the table.
What the tax man didn't know, didn't hurt either of us.
So a quick walk later and I was at the local post office for Snead, Alison county, Arizona. The post office acted as a sort of impromptu meeting place, where old blue haired ladies and crotchety old survivalists could meet and discuss the weather (almost always dry and hot as hell) and use the brittle decaying cork board set up in the lobby to post messages regarding things or help they needed.
A person with some motivation could make quite a bit of money checking that board. I had a bit less than most I was sure – working in the warehouse for 10 hour shifts was a bit tiring. Especially if you didn't sleep much. Especially if it was the night shift.
Mrs. Johnson needed her yard mowed again, pass. She was a battleaxe who believed five dollars was enough to cover mowing a 3 lot yard. Five bucks didn't even cover the gas to mow such a yard. I might do it anyway, but her specifications were exacting. She actually used a ruler in front of me, to measure the grass. And section she found a centimeter over the 1 inch length she wanted, she made me go back over. To hell with that.
Mr. Anderson needed help replacing a water heater, and specifically posted this note for me. Mr Anderson was a laid back old geezer in his 80's that didn't mind me taking a few shortcuts, as long as it worked and I made good if something I fixed broke. That note went safely into my pocket.
Mrs. Fitz had a hole in her roof which was leaking, and the company that had replaced her roof last year swore it was no longer under warranty. She only had a bit more more than I did really, and was on a fixed income. She could not pay to have the same company ( or even another) fix their own work. I took that note down too.
That should be enough for today, unless the old man was into the sauce again, and found my stash. Of course, to be into the sauce again, he had to have found my stash; he didn't have the money for it otherwise. He regularly squandered his retirement check on booze by the second week. At least he learned not to gripe at me about drinking his booze if I ended up indirectly paying for it, so I had until recently gotten one perk out of the deal to make for him regularly tossed the trailer we called home for the money he knew I kept for a rainy day.
Turning 21 made the readily accessible booze thing rather pointless, as I could buy my own. So I started using the better hiding places I knew, and the old man started drying out. He didn't like that, even after almost 15 years he wasn't ready to quit. Penny just called him a drinking mutant, as a joke.
Penny was not a fan of mutants; not too many around here were. Most of the population of this town were survivalists or end of the worlders of some stripe or another, and most viewed mutants and other powered beings as the second coming of the holocaust. More than half had their own posh bunkers just waiting to be able to say 'I told you so' to the dead while riding out the end in style.
I was pretty sure the other half had designs on begging the first half. Both halves however, were not fans of powered beings of any sort, and would come out in full force with shotguns and explosives to ruin a powered person's day.
It was a good thing this area held nothing of value; it'd be the favorite haunt of villains everywhere. I knew that even if you hated them, having no super-powered beings around to stop crimes perpetrated by more of just those types of beings was just asking for trouble. But luckily enough, this area was close enough to the desert that nothing of real value was here. Only a few ranches dotted the landscape, and one area that the government told us was off limits but that seemed to provide a job for many of the people here, all researchers and scientists that swore there was no alien spacecraft hidden in a bunker on premises.
None of the locals believed that of course; I mean if it wasn't at area 51, where else would it be but here, a place that not even the non locals of Arizona knew of? As far as government sites went, this one was dark it was practically a black hole. The closest anyone had to knowing what was going on was the word ark, which led some people to speculate the government was pulling an Indiana Jones on us all here.
From where I was standing though, melting Nazis sounded like a good idea. Walking down the street in the nice bright fall weather, the few people on the sidewalk parting before me like the red sea before Moses, I pondered more on the inhumanity of man.
Well at least till I reached my first stop; Mr. Anderson. He was first simply because he was closest on the route. If I was thinking, I'd probably look at the leakey roof, before it got hot. But I was just too lazy for all that. Besides I knew Mr. Anderson would have the stuff needed to fix his water heater; in order to fix the roof I'd have to swing by my hovel at the other end of town (and the wrong end of the tracks) to grab my tools and spare lumber.
Mr. Samuel Anderson was a small shriveled up old guy, nearing 82 years young, with toothpick arms and a stooped back. He also had no intimidation in him, being too old to care that I was six foot 4 inches, weighed 200 pounds, and had a bad reputation – he liked me anyway, and oddly enough I liked him. He was more of a people person than anyone I knew.
“Well Victor, I see you got my note.”
“Sure did, though I might have gotten here sooner if you had just simply called me.”
I held up my cheap non smart cell phone to punctuate the message.
“I have nothing but time, to be fair. I dislike the idea of bothering you, I never know when you're sleeping due to your job.”
“Don't matter really, I'd help you when you called. Much easier than cleaning up a major mess if your plumbing breaks.”
“It wasn't that bad; the water heater just stopped working. Cold showers got old in the military, fortunately enough boiled water makes for decent baths.”
His knees were both replacements; getting up and down from a bathtub was likely very painful. And the stairs too, for that matter.
“Well you got the water heater and the tools already, if you'll just open the outside cellar door I'll handle the rest.”
I could carry the water heater down myself while it was empty. Failing that, I could simply drag it down. He unlocked the padlock and I threw open the steel door. His cellar was after all, his bomb shelter too.
“Alright I'll let you get to it.”
I worked better alone anyway. It only took me a bit over an hour to turn the water off, cap the old heater (to prevent it from leaking all over the place – the puddle could have been much worse) and hook up the new one. The new one was all energy star rated and much smaller than the old one... which made hauling the old one out, filled with water, a real chore.
I finally just borrowed the dolly Mr. Anderson had for the purpose of lifting heavy things, levered it up the stairs, and removed the plugs to give the yard a watering. Then to finish the job I went back down and mopped. The mopping took another 20 minutes, but I liked being thorough... and he paid by the hour. Then I used my phone to take a picture of the aftermath, just in case. If I could save the old guy a trip down the stairs, I would. All part of the service. Then I went back out the way I came in, stacked the now empty old water heater in the corner of his garage and re-locked the cellar door.
When I came back from locking up, I found the old man waiting on me. He always did have impeccable timing.
“So, looks like I owe you for one hour, 42 minutes of work.”
I nodded and showed him the photo. Sure he hadn't asked, but I liked to let people know up front I wasn't cheating them.
“At the usual rate.”
He handed me two twenties, and of course I protested.
“Too much Mr. Anderson, my rate puts this job at only sixteen.”
“Sorry, I decide what your time here is worth. You did the job without any breaks, you fixed your mistakes, and cleaned up after yourself. I decided that is worth forty. Now you'll take it, or I'll raise a stink.”
His grin put the lie to his statement that he'd make trouble for me, but I took the money anyway. We had done this dance before, and he always got his way.
“You're a good kid Victor, just don't spend it on cigarettes. Those things will kill you.”
I waved as he shut the door. I'd buy them if I wanted them; after all, it's totally my choice how to check out.
When disaster strikes, it often strikes with the suddenness of a massive coronary, and the force of a bolt of a freight train to the face; though just as often as not, one cannot see the tracks which the train is using.
Not that a such a mundane thing as seeing the single halogen light breaking it's way across you alleviates the train's impact any.
Norman Bradley clocked in to the facility promptly at 9am, like always. He arrived early, but ever since a chewing out by the boss a few years ago for clocking in early, he made it a point to never give the damn company any more of his time than they wanted, which was exactly eight hours.
The company in question was the Arkham Research Consortium, though everyone knew the Department of Defense and the military wrote the checks for this particular branch. Norman had been told upon starting his employ all about the illustrious history and important job the installation had, as part of an attempt to indoctrinate him in corporate culture.
He was proud the effort had failed in his case. Like the other installations he was cleared for, this one was for keeping certain powered beings cryogenically frozen. Unlike most ARC facilities however, this one actually predated the Consortium itself, by a good several years. It was made by the army and DOD just after World War 2, back when cryogenics was still a devisor game and giant concrete bunkers were the height of prison technology.
It was the first Popsicle prison.
As a result, it housed many of the worst powered scum the planet had to offer from before the modern era, all stacked in nice rows, floor by floor, worst (at the bottom) to least. The elevator ride alone was a good 10 minute commute. It wasn't under a mountain, or even on a map, and had thus far avoided serious public interest.
It had never seen a break in, or a break out.
Norman headed to the break room and to the coffee machine. It was the most up to date piece of engineering here, a relic from the 80's. The vending machine guy came to refill it every week, which was really all he cared about. He couldn't use the break room for the eggheads; the scientists and techs that maintained the place. He was a security pleeb, one step up from janitor.
He made his way in just as his supervisor started out. The same one that put a black mark in his file for showing up early.
“You're late, Norman.”
“Clocked in promptly at 9, boss.”
Norman mentally dared him to check.
Instead the fat balding jerk simply sighed and walked out without so much as a 'see you later.' Dick.
Marty showed up as he was retrieving his morning cup of joe from the ratty machine., a few candy bars from it's brother already hanging out of his front pocket. Martin Jones was also Norman's superior, having been working here for fourteen to Norman's six years.
Nearly bald (unwillingly, as opposed to Norman, who was bald by choice) with just a few stringy white hairs, and almost as wide as he was tall, Marty was every inch the professional security guard. From his spotted tie, to his spotted shirt and stained dress pants, to the spotless gun holstered at his side behind the pepper spray, he screamed competence.
Even to Marty, the coffee machine was old.
“You ready kid? Time to get down to the freezer before the night shift gets antsy.”
“Yeah let's go.”
The night shift often got antsy, but then who wouldn't in this graveyard? They had been forced to make allowances due to the boss not letting Norman clock in early. Since it took a few minutes to walk down to the second elevator, then a few more to take it, they regularly had to clock out 10 minutes later than their eight hours, which they then passed along in a revolving door of lateness that somehow mostly worked out to give them all exactly eight hours.
They did so love driving the supervisors nuts.
The second elevator was more normal than the first, appearing to be something right out of a department store or office building. One walked right past the “no food or drink beyond this point” to take it.
It opened directly into the third floor security office, the only open portal leading to the recesses within, blockaded by a door more at home on a bank vault than anywhere else. The desks facing the elevator had bullet proof shields with holes cut for the rather dusty .50 caliber machine guns, loaded with armor piercing rounds that hadn't been checked or changed since Norman started working here.
The guards all swore they changed them as protocol dictated, every month. The supervisors never checked, or if they did, they didn't change it either. Turn over among the guard staff was so rapid that many hands were full simply training new staff. It was even higher among the ex-military.
For whatever reason, the powers-that-be did not want to use military resources to secure the site, preferring instead to use a private contractor which hired ex-military. Norman himself was ex-army, and had an insight into the mind of those who left this fairly cushy job.
They weren't mad about the town, which was the butt end of nowhere and full of redneck hicks, they weren't missing creature comforts or excitement. They didn't trust their own bosses. Some, like Normans old friend Ralph (who left after only three months) viewed the place as a major accident/national security incident waiting to happen.
This despite the nearly constant inspections by ARC personnel. The inspections were of course a joke. Supposedly all surprises, the management always had prior knowledge, even if by no more than a few hours by grace of being in the butt end of nowhere; it was easy to track flights when there was only one reason anyone ever flew here.
Tracking ARC personnel was even easier. Even the spies they tried to slip into the staff as janitors or scientists were ferreted out well before any could get a glimpse of what went on here. The security staff was very good at that particular job.
The other desks, the ones facing inward, were actually bunkers. They held a variety of cold war surplus small arms. The strongest were the grenade guns capable of firing high explosives by the dozens a minute. They were a joke; only the suicidal or supremely stupid would think to use them down here.
No the best weapons were the industrial tazers inside the actual desks of every guard, primed and ready with three shots each. With a needle more like a miniature harpoon, and enough voltage in each charge to stun a charging Rhino, those were the weapons Norman would grab first if the shit hit the fan.
The computers controlling this particular floor of Popsicle alley used to be inset in the wall, behind a blast shield. Those were just after the days of Univac, and the key cards on chains which they still used; they were so old they were an extra security measure again, unable to be duplicated. That computer was replaced however.
The new computers were actual workstations.. if you could consider Tandy's using Windows 3.1 workstations. The stupid things couldn't even play solitaire. Hell you couldn't even play pong on the damn things. Oddly enough they never froze or blue screened however. There wasn't even cable, and no television allowed even if there were, so the staff had resorted to sneaking a laptop in to help relieve the boredom of endless card games.
The security cameras were more up to date, using actual VHS tapes and closed circuit television sets. Not the new kind of course, the old ones that had tubes. Luckily, the facility had a great surplus of empty tapes.
“So what's on tap today gentleman? And I use that term loosely.”
Paul, ever the sociable leader type, answered for the group.
“Cards and that new paranormal movie, followed by more cards and that new zombie movie, followed by....”
“Alright, I get it, I get it, more of the same. Quarter bets again?”
“Yep, just to make it interesting.”
With the ease of routine, Norman, Paul, Stan, and Marty sat down at the table next to the metal detector (the one where you'd normally check bags) while the low man on the totem pole, Phil, kept watch on the Tandy at his desk, and the cameras. One word from him would have them all scrambling to respond to either a threat... or to a supervisor. After exactly four hands, Norman would switch with Phil, then Paul, then Stan, then Marty.
Seniority, after all.
Death rode in on the third hand. It didn't bother with the card keys, or the elevator, or the other security personnel on the other floors... at least at first. No, there was a pattern to these things, a sense of proper order; and it did so like to begin at the beginning.
“Damn it Paul, you cheating bastard.”
Said cheating bastard had just plunked down a full house, making Norman's aces and eights worthless. Deprived of almost three dollars in the heavy betting meant that the coffee Norman was currently drinking was the last he'd have today, unless he borrowed his change back. Paul just grinned that insufferable grin of his; he'd charge interest.
Finally, irrational anger completed the pattern; and Norman threw his coffee at Paul. Paul, being Paul, dodged. The coffee hit one of the ancient computers directly, the one on Phil's desk, which he was using to peruse the fules. normally not an issue. But after years of such abuse, this time was different.
This time, it took a bit too much liquid directly through the floppy drive, fizzled, and died.
The five other Tandy's lit up, displaying a warning. Alarm klaxons sounded.
“Dude, what the hell did you do?!?”
“Why the hell did you dodge?!?”
Marty chopped the air with a hand.
“SHUT UP! Check your computers now. Phil, what were you looking at?”
Phil paled as he responded.
“One of the angels; file 03A.”
“Is your computer as dead as it looks?”
“restarting it now.”
Norman was staring at the screen; the muttered 'no' from somewhere behind him didn't even register. All he saw was an old identification, from well before the time of MID's, where none were pulled up before:
Name: Simon Crane.
Code name: Omega Man.
Known powers:
Exemplar 5.
Energizer (radiation generation, several types) 5.
Former Army operative.
Former CIA operative.
Considered armed and highly dangerous, DO NOT APPROACH. Flee on sight.
Lethal force authorized to subdue.
Lethal force recommended to subdue.
Page two of course, had a full psych profile and list of weaknesses. But what occupied Norman's full attention was the glowing option under the first page, the same one that was always there, but never glowed before in the history of the facility. There wasn't a single soul who knew what the people of this facility knew, who would dare make that option glow by choice.
It was the 'wake' option.
Norman tried to hit the cancel option, to stop the sequence, but the Tandy was unresponsive. From what he could hear, his finger wasn't the only one stabbing a cancel button.
“It's not working!”
Marty responded, his voice a bucket of ice water on the proceedings.
“The Tandy's are slaved together as a security measure, remember? Sabotaging one sabotages them all. Rule 1 in the case of incursions. We won't have any control until Phil get's the computer up and running.”
“Well how long is the wake up cycle?”
“About 5 minutes I was told. But it's never happened before. But we don't even know that the cycle is going on; it could just be that the computers are showing a wake up, when no command was issued.”
The intercom crackled to tinny life.
“Martin! Martin! What's going on down there!”
“Computer malfunction boss, we're trying to determine just what it's doing. Might want to rouse the response team, just in case.”
Norman didn't want them to hit the panic button. If word of how this happened got out after wards, and it would, he would be fired. But he had read the files too; it was required reading. Omega Man had 1337 murders to his credit. Those were just the intentional ones. So his job was the least of his worries at the moment.
A quick zoom in from the security camera in that section, and his heart skipped. The stupid thing couldn't see the pod. They were supposed to be able to see every pod with these cameras, but he couldn't get the camera to pan right enough.
“Camera won't pan.”
Marty glared. Norman had never seen Marty angry before, and it scared him a little.
“Then you my friend are going to go in and see what can be seen. Take your walkie.”
Looking into the small sea of hardened faces, he knew. He was the canary in the coal mine. He grabbed his walkie quickly among the silence before he was all but led lamb style to the door. The requisite code was punched and he was ushered through.
The place was right out of a movie set, all large wires and hoses connected every which way, or draped across the concrete floor haphazardly. It was well lit for a change, the janitorial team had replaced all the fluorescent bulbs last week. It wasn't silent, with all the clicks, hums, and whirring noises one might expect would be right at home at an automated machine shop. His breath puffed misty in the bright air.
But to Norman it was dark as pitch, and pure silence greeted his ears.
“Test.”
Sometimes the radios died, even on the charger; the batteries had been defective before.
“Read you loud and clear.”
Marty's voice, now with a tinge of worry. That gave Norman some hope, however faint, that he might be forgiven.
“Get a move on Norman, time is of the essence. Check the pod and interrupt it's cycle manually if you have to.”
They had all been briefed on how to interrupt a pod's wake up cycle manually when they were hired. It was a simple matter of putting your card key in, and putting in your code. His code was 1173; easy enough. He stepped up the pace.
The camera was sheathed in ice; that was fairly common, and the motors that moved the cameras were proof against such moisture, but every so often one got locked in place from the ice growth and the motor wasn't strong enough to dislodge it. There was no time for that now though.
At first glance, Norman felt cheated. He was supposed to have 5 minutes! The hatch was already half open, fully popped, and Omega man was already stirring within.
“Marty, the pod's opening! Initiating manual override.”
His key card was hanging around his neck; it always was. He slotted it, almost missing, and waited for the key pad panel to pop open. Then he realized like the camera, it too had a thing sheath of ice. His frustrated (frightened) fist quickly shattered it, and the panel popped open with the sound of snapping, brittle metal.
The pad seemed to be fully functional, and he was on typing the 7 when a hand, colder than the grave and stronger than any vise, grabbed his.
He screamed.
…................................................................................................................................................................
Simon Crane was not groggy. He knew exactly who he was, and where he was, and most importantly, why he was here. He was here because despite it's best efforts, the United States government had found no way to kill him. No poison could penetrate his hide like skin, no bomb could hurt him, radiation was his friend more than anyone else's.
They had tried to trick him into eating poison once...but the cyanide hadn't killed him. He'd been... annoyed about that incident. He wasn't really a bad sort though, just misunderstood.
The government had made him a super soldier. He had exceeded their wild expectations, easily able to fend off the predations of well, anyone. Killing the Terror had just proven it, really. With the powered enemies of America quiet, he had been looking to retire. The government hadn't really wanted to lose their best field agent. They always had more infiltration's, assassinations, and general wet-work for their best.
But he was a simple man; he preferred honesty and action to words and deception.
What that meant was, people had one chance. They listened, did as they were told, and didn't anger him – or they died. So when the guard just kept on trying to input some code into his pod despite the fact that he was already awake and clearly not going back to sleep any time soon, gibbering all the while, well...
Simon Crane got upset.
Stepping over the charred remains, he took stock. As the doctors had told him, he had continued to grow. He was now easily seven feet tall. A quick brushing with a hand revealed not a single hair left on his head, also expected. He looked, if anything, more fit than ever after who knew how long in enforced sleep.
And of course he was naked; they had taken his suit. What was wrong with people, anyway? Say you want to be left alone, and they try to kill you. They finally manage to knock you out, and then steal your clothes and lock you up in a freezer. They should have tried harder to kill him, honestly.
The guard’s clothes were ash, and the walkie-talkie was a lost cause. Too much microwave energy. Oh, and he was alone in this frozen sepulcher with all these lovely ne'er do wells. He counted a full 50.. and he recognized two of them. He had been the one to put them down.
Well that sort of made several things clear didn't it? How his government valued his service, and how they considered him, to place him among the worst of the worst. Well he didn't care, he could still remove scum from the world.
A pulse of a few of the more fun types of radiations, and any who weren't dead soon would be. He always did like going nuclear; it smelled like burning, like melted wreckage... like freedom. Civic duty complete, he strolled up to the door.
With no means of communications (the intercom was so much slag running from the wall) this next step would be tricky. He really did not want to walk through the installation dispensing death to one and all. He didn't really care, he would if he had to, but if it was avoidable....
The intercom panel gave him an idea. Usually such places were weaker structurally than the walls themselves, and that panel hadn't taken his radiation well. A single punch proved the theory, as his hand sank in to the shoulder through the wall. A quick wiggle brought it back out, and a quick look confirmed it had gone all the way through.
“Excuse me.”
A rough voice from the other side answered.
“Yeah?”
“Let me out, or I shall be forced to release all sorts of unhealthy radiation into that room, and kill you all.”
“...What happened to Norman?”
“Was that his name? I'm afraid we did not see eye to eye on certain matters regarding my detainment, so I was forced to kill him.”
There was some whispering on the other end of the hole; he was far too much a gentlemen to listen in, however.
“How do we know you'll keep your word?”
“You've read my file, yes?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know I will. Let me out, stand aside, and I will let you all leave, life and limb intact.”
There was of course, more whispering. Then the door cycled open to reveal a portly man with gray wisps of hair and road mapped face screwed into an expression of cautious fear. Behind him were other guards, more fit... ex-military, no doubt. The desks, the boxes with television screens attached, the weapons were all taken in at a glance.
There was a puddle in front of the door, where he would have to step.
He raised an eyebrow. He assumed he still had those, but he didn't know.
“The leak was the reason for the error that allowed your pod to open.”
The old man responded to the silent question well. No hesitation or stuttering. He was afraid, but collected. He was plotting something. One cautious step out confirmed it.
“Light him up!”
Little daggers flew through the air, not at him directly, where they would do no good, but at the puddle. Electricity arced, and his body followed, dancing then stiffening until the power packs on the guard;'s unknown weapons died.
All in all, it was a nice try. He came out of it, and clenched his jaw.
“That.... I get it, I do. You're only doing your jobs. It was a good attempt, and I'll honor it. If asked, I'll say you all did the best you could. But that was your one chance. One more attempt, by any of you, and you all die. Understood?”
Nods were his answer.
“Ahh good, a working intercom. Excuse me, is anyone there?”
“Yes, this is lieutenant Al Kowalsky. To whom am I speaking?”
“You would know me best as Omega Man, Lieutenant. I am free of my incarceration, and wish to be free of this installation. So far only one man has died, and he died for not granting my request. You will grant my request, or I will kill everyone in the installation above me, including you.”
A moment passed.
“Would you mind very much if I asked for a few minutes time to consult my superiors?”
“Not at all lieutenant. You may have 5 minutes, after which I will assume your answer to be negative.”
He sat down in one of the chairs facing the elevator to wait, the guards behind him. Exactly 3 minutes, 39 seconds later he had his answer.
Both the rest of the security staff and the on-call heavy armored battalion watched him walk out the front door.
Done with my work for the day, (because screw annoying old ladies) and a hundred dollars richer, I was whistling while walking down the street, the setting sun a welcome greeting to the eye. Working with my hands always made me a little happy... don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to maintain.
Being a little happy tended to make me a little dangerous, another fact I took pains to hide. So when I spotted the three most annoying yokels who I graduated with it was all I could do to throw up a hand and wave. They were not happy at all to see me.
The one farthest to the right was Mica. His ex-girlfriends all called him Formica, a fact which amused me no end. Cheap fake wood indeed. He was nearly my size, a little over muscled where I was lean, and actually had half a brain in his head, which made his deliberate turn to stupidity that much more tragic.
The one to the left (the left hand of silly) was Darrin; large and in charge, but usually a pretty passive and almost OK guy. Unless you counted the racism, mutant hatred, and homophobia as character flaws. I did, but what really pissed me off were all the dick jokes. How many times could one make a dick or fart joke without it just becoming old and childish? What age did one grow up and move along?
AT 21, Darrin hadn't hit that age yet.
The other side, the right hand, was the brother, Daryl. Yes, the parents made a matched set. Daryl wasn't as big as Darrin, but what he lacked in size he made up for in sheer viciousness. He liked to use knives too. A few of his past girlfriends had put out restraining orders against him.
He knew well enough who the big dog was though; last time he tried me I'd broken his knives. I didn't much appreciate assault with a deadly weapon, and I was closer than the cops at the time.
Hey every village needed their idiots, and these were ours.
“Hey you guys, how's it going? Daryl, that a new piercing?”
He had yet another new one over his eye. I was pretty sure that a properly applied magnet would rip his face off, but whatever.
“Oh, it's the mutant. How you doing, Vic? Pull any crazy heroics today? Finally taken to wearing the bright long johns?”
Ahh, that tired old put down. I wasn't a mutant, just better than they were. You put down three guys at once, one of them armed, multiple times, and they started thinking mutant. I'd always just had a sixth sense for fighting, and it got better every passing year. Other people were just predictable. Good thing the rumor they tried to spread never struck.
Otherwise many more people would get beaten down. No real skin off my nose. I could do without the Humanity first and Knights of Purity grief, but I wouldn't run away from it. In fact, the M.C.O. had, upon request of various 'concerned and undisclosed citizens' tested me no less than four times, starting my sophomore year; all tests had come up negative. That was probably what killed the rumors.
The idiots three all bore H1 tattoos in prominent places. It must really suck to admit you couldn't take on a local tough 3 on 1 to people who expected you to go toe to toe with mutants when called. I doubted their bigoted friends took them seriously.
But then again, no one else did, so why should they be different?
“You wish. But no, just jeans here, filled out in a way you can't hope to match. You looking to try your luck again?”
For a so called street tough, they sure backed down quickly.
“Nah, was just going to go ask Penny if she wanted a real man yet.”
Now I'd never touched Penny. But that did not stop anyone from insinuating she was my girl. Something which made her very angry. Unlike Mica, Penny had a mean right cross. Mica and I had both experienced it; the one thing we had in common, though some might argue otherwise.
I felt I was a higher class of riff-raff, myself.
“Well you can ask her, but if she asks me to, I'll put you all into the dirt. Free country and all that.”
They knew where she worked; in a small town, everyone knows everything about you. It wasn't quite time for her to knock off, so she'd be safe enough for now. I had to get home before dad woke up and destroyed the place. He was once an early riser, but staying up all night screws with a lifetime of good habits.
“Yeah, see you later Vic.”
Not bothering to wave, the brat pack moved off. Tweedledum and Tweedledee still silent for a change. Change was good.
Perhaps they had read my mood; I always did tend to get a little dark mentally when prepping to deal with my dad. If I were the introspective sort, I'd probably drive myself crazy. Or drive myself sane. Not sure which, or even if I should care.
People were beginning to step to the other side of the street before I reached home, a dingy little trailer park just past the rusted and barely used tracks. We were in number 16, four rows down. The laughing but grubby kids and barking slavering dogs yanking chains as if they would break their necks were different from my childhood, but not really.
That sort of scene rarely changes. Poverty always has some constants.
Our own humble abode was a single, with broken weather cracked yellow siding and a rusted roof sitting on crumbling concrete blocks. I could trace the cracks in the grimy windows from memory; I didn't dare clean them for fear I'd have to replace them. Maybe some day when I had the money.
After all, it was mine; small, crappy, but undeniably all mine. I'd paid for it, for all that it was in my dad's name. I'd bought after my first few jobs, just before we'd lost the house, but minor's couldn't really buy houses, or trailers in this case. Cars were one thing, houses were quite another. That was years ago, of course. I could go out on my own now... but that would mean ditching my father. He was an ass, but he didn't have anyone else.
So far I'd been lucky and he hadn't sold it out from under us. I was prepared for that, but every month he didn't was a good one. He'd only stolen the lot rent twice this year, which was a personal best of his. I continued to hold out hope that he'd wise up.
I could tell the moment I walked through the door that today wasn't the day.
He was flat on his ass in his ratty old chair, already half in the bottle of whiskey; no idea where he got it, it looked like he hadn't been out. In fact, I really hope he hadn't been out. He was dressed in pajama pants that might have been dark blue once, but now looked to be brown and held together more by dirt than anything else, and a wife-beater that hadn't escaped the laundry. Wish I knew how the pants had... or maybe they hadn't, and the dirt was recent.
As it was he looked like he'd grown from the chair; as if he was a permanent part of it. One with the mold of it perhaps. I wish I could get rid of the thing, but I couldn't afford better, and any new one would be as bad as the old one inside of a month.
If it wasn't sold first.
The absolutely spotless and perfect 40 inch LCD high definition television was turned on, a high definition DVD of “band of brothers” placed in it. I could likely quote the entire episode from heart, though I doubted the ability of my dad to do so, especially now. He was a bit of a lightweight anymore.
He was currently asleep, though due to it's alcohol induced nature I wasn't sure how long that would last. So a bit of metal gear solid was needed here. Unlike Snake though, I didn't need or use a box. I'd never owned a game system, or the game, but Penny had. She still did in fact. She kept everything, and always let me take a turn. Well, almost always; she was notorious for keeping Final fantasy games to herself.
I'd replaced the floorboards once before, so they made no sound when I wanted them not to. I hid my honestly acquired money of the day with the rest of my stash, in the last place he'd look... the plastic bag I had clipped to the outer edge of the washing machine tub. He never went anywhere near the laundry, or the washer.
I wouldn't even count it, but my best estimate was a thousand at the moment, with my earnings for today. A sizable rainy day fund. I threw all but a twenty in, knowing if I didn't leave something for him to find in my wallet he'd be suspicious. He never quite wised up to the wallet, instead preferring to think of me as stupid for continually leaving my money around.
Kind of insulting really, but his own stupidity worked to my advantage.
I wasn't worried about him selling anything else, as I had nothing else to sell. My tools were safely hidden in the crawlspace (another place he'd never go) and hidden behind a sturdy lock; he was far too lazy to try and break that even if he found it. Besides, he knew I needed those to keep him in booze and electricity. As for anything else, like computers or TV's or DVD players, I didn't own one. Even my cell phone was a cheapie I just added time to.
I didn't need any of that stuff anyway.
I also kept a twenty out for myself. I sure as hell wasn't cooking anything, and eating where Penny worked was a good way to keep an eye out for her, while having an excuse. She'd only brought up my eating there just before her shift ended once, after about the 4th straight day that one week. I ignored her, and she never spoke of it again, instead preferring to try and sneak out when my back was turned.
Did I mention she had a mean right hook?
“You. When did you get back?”
“About twenty ago; you were a bit too sauced to notice.”
“Don't make me teach you respect again, boy. Go make lunch.”
“No can do, boss. Got another job to get to. If you want I'll bring you back something.”
“Then hurry it up. I'm hungry.”
He took another slug from the bottle. I knew the moment I left he'd toss my room, looking for the money I seeded it with. If he did, I wouldn't see him until tomorrow; he'd be at the bar. He also wouldn't eat anything.
I was enabling him, I knew that. But what else could I do? His dumb ass wouldn't get help from the VA, and we couldn't afford private detox. Proud bastard. Well, proud at least where other people were concerned; he'd piss himself rather than hobble to the bathroom in my presence, with no shame at all.
If I tried to get him help, he'd rapidly piss me off in a variety of petty ways. My only hope was that some random bartender or patron would finally get fed up of stepping over him come closing time and get him arrested. The cops could likely take it from there with ease.
I still had about an hour before her shift ended; today was a 12 hour. That would give me just enough time to eat something. I had spent longer dealing with my old man than I liked; usually anything longer than 5 minutes and we'd be at each others throats. Sometimes it'd me more; after all, sometimes one of us was asleep. The funny thing was, he was better than his so called friends and war buddies. He seemed downright well adjusted compared to them.
The sun was beginning to set when I turned off the trailer park drive to head towards food. The riot of color assaulted my eyes, and my squint revealed a color that wasn't supposed to be there; A light green.
Well shit, this wasn't going to be good, whatever it was. Still it had nothing to do with me or mine, so I'd just let it head on it's merry way.
…................................................................................................................
Simon Crane was enjoying himself. He had retrieved his suit and fedora, stood at the edge of a small little burg drinking in the sights like, well, a man in a desert who finds water. The walk through the desert hadn't inconvenienced him, nor had the lack of refreshment. But now that he could, he intended to rectify his lack.
The small town was enchanting; strange lights, strangely made cars (some of them like little bread boxes on wheels, and so small there was no way he could fit into them) The architecture had not changed noticeably in the fifty years he had been frozen, a mild surprise. He had expected more Frank Lloyd Wright and less... pedestrian.
The clothing was another story. He was not used to mini-skirts being quite so... mini. Or for women’s shirts to show everything but nipples. The woman walked by, obviously proud to cause a reaction.
How strange. Was she a lady of the evening?
But no, while she was the boldest within sight, other women had similar clothing. Most were wearing pants or denim jeans that he was only half sure wasn't affixed by Velcro directly to their skin. Or perhaps glue. The rest were more than merely scandalous.
Obviously some societal changes had occurred.
Even more odd were the looks he was receiving. He was used to receiving some strange looks due to his size, but more than a few passersby were simply ignoring him. As if one of his size were more common. Had the mutants and other powered beings grown in number, or were those people just trying to ignore him in order to go about their daily lives – a form of 'out of sight, out of mind?'
If so, he approved. He did not want to be interrupted on his quest.
Of course, he had to interrupt someone else on their own quest; the better to receive directions on his own. Wandering around for hours in order to find a proper place for the repast he desired. He did not want just anything to eat; he wanted a greasy spoon. A nice large hamburger and plate of greasy fries with a coke on the side were what he desired.
Or perhaps a rare steak.
At any rate, this seemed to be just the town to find such a 'mom and pop' restaurant, a true windfall for him, since he knew the four and five star establishments he used to frequent would rather burn down than prepare a hamburger.
“Excuse me, miss?”
The miss in question was one of the more modest ones, walking alone. She was moderately attractive, with long clean brown hair in a ponytail, blue jeans, and a top that didn't show everything she had. Her nose was perhaps a trifle too large, and lips perhaps a trifle too thin to display true beauty.
“Yes, sir?”
“Would you perhaps know the whereabouts of the nearest restaurant? I've just arrived and have yet to learn my way around your fair hamlet.”
She looked uncomfortable being addressed, but he ignored it with admirable aplomb. It was only polite after all, and his size made many uncomfortable.
“Um, right. The only restaurant around here is “Billy's”, and that's four blocks down, take a right, then another two blocks, and it's on your left. It has a big red neon sign that's half burned out, and its in the business district. They close at 10, so you've got a bit of time.”
“Thank you miss, you've been of great assistance. Have a wonderful evening.”
Her heels clicked an almost panicked staccato on the cracked pavement of the sidewalk.
“Sure, um... you too.”
Simon Crane walked on with a smile, the setting sun at his back.
The walk to the diner was a pleasant one. But I couldn't escape the feeling of impending doom. Nothing small or vague. A real feeling of great specific doom, which I was walking towards. I shrugged.
My obligations lay ahead of me, so ahead of me I would go. Even towards the almost overwhelming feeling. It was crazy though, I'd never felt the like before.
For all of that, the new night was pleasant, not quite cold enough to be brutal, but getting into jacket temperatures. The birds and insects were silent. For that matter even the dogs that everyone seemed to have were silent, and not a few of them were actually in hiding. Odd, but it didn't seem to affect the people at all.
It seemed everyone was out enjoying the nice weather, doing errands and chores before it got truly cold, or just walking around to get in each others way. I couldn't tell which for sure, but to me it certainly seemed like there were more than my fair share directly in front of me. It ceased being charming and rapidly became annoying.
The growing pressure in my head wasn't making that any easier. This was far beyond a normal headache. Again, not that it mattered. Neither rain, nor heat, nor physical discomfort of any kind would keep me from my appointed rounds.
Then the diner hove into view, a faded, greasy looking place full of faded greasy looking people. The name on the place was “Bill's”, but there hadn't been a Bill here since before I was born. The current owner was a man named Mike.
I liked Mike, he was a bluff simple guy, almost as large as I was but older and with that ex-military swagger most men around here had. He also knew my father before the accident, a fact I didn't hold against him, even when he started trying to compare me to my old man.
None of that really translated to one of my favorite things – free food, but no relationship was perfect. At least he didn't try to get in the way when I escorted Penny or the other girls home. The area wasn't really that dangerous, at least not anymore.
I had myself in the door and seated in my favorite stool (the one with a view of the kitchen and the door) before Mike or Penny even recognized I was there. Standing room only tonight, but Jed and I had an understanding; he sat here in the afternoon until a half hour from Penny's shift, and if I wasn't here by then he left.
Old Jed didn't really have any place to go in the afternoons, spending most of the time chatting with his buddies at this very counter, and he loved playing seat warmer for me. As always, he got up with a nod right as I came into range, drained his coffee and left. His check would have been paid already.
I nodded back and settled in, giving a warning glare at some euro - douche haired yuppy type who thought he was going to swoop in and get my stool. He hadn't even put his cell phone up' it was still glued to his ear. He saw and paled in a most satisfying manner before going back to his call... loudly.
Luckily (for him) Mike noticed I was suddenly sitting in my usual spot.
“Vic, what'll it be?”
“The usual Mike, the usual.”
The usual was a nice large burger with lettuce and tomato, and a large plate of greasy heart clogging fries next to it. No condiments. No pickles this time, but I'll just pick them off. Only salt on the fries, and only a little.
I was well into the plate, munching away, by the time Penny had a moment to look up. She looked right to my stool, and sighed when I gave her a small wave. I couldn't hear it over all the morons shouting over each other, and euro- douche chatting over it all in my ear, but I could see it.
I ignored it with an application of will; typical night here. It took almost no time at all to finish up. A quick check of the clock revealed that Penny only had fifteen minutes left. Meal over, I stood up, and the yuppy immediately took the stool, still on his phone.
I retreated to an out of the way corner near the restrooms to wait, holding up the wall. As big as I was, most people seemed to have vision based on movement, which meant I could blend into the background if I stood still. I wasn't sure how it worked exactly, but it did.
Made it easy to see the dipshit trio arrive outside.
Now, those three were not me. So they couldn't get away with half the crap I did. As such, they couldn't really push their way through the crowd for a seat and get served. Mainly because they saw me there through the window, and also saw Mike was on duty in the kitchen. Last time they tried that, he threw them out, none too gently.
And he had saved them much pain; I had been a step slower than he had.
At any rate they were safely outside.
“Hey, almost ready to go.”
Penny had snuck up on me while I was keeping an eye out for trouble; true to her word, her apron was off and in her hand; she was a few minutes early, but a glance at the register revealed Mike and proved he didn't seem to mind. A glance into the kitchen proved that Becky, her shift replacement, was already here and ready to take over.
“Alright. I'm here. Go clock out.”
At least she didn't seem upset. Not that it mattered to me. I'd let her beat on me before, to work out her frustrations. It hadn't hurt at all. Well except for that perfect straight punch to the nose, but if I'd told her that, she'd only do it more.
Did I mention she had a mean right hook?
She came back and of course punched me in the arm when she thought I wasn't moving fast enough for her.
“Come on, I don't want to stay in here any longer than I have to. No offense Mike.”
He smiled.
“None taken.”
I couldn't blame her, work was work. We threaded the crowd and hit the door, just in time to almost literally run into a guy that was even taller than I was. He was nearly a foot taller if he was an inch, and had on some of the most dated clothes I'd seen. Detective movie stuff. I had to admit, except for the size, he made it look good.
The sense/headache/pressure I'd been feeling also turned from a muddy mental haze to a clearly focused feeling the moment my eyes made contact.
Too strong for you. Leave now.
Well that was a first. I'd heard this particular voice inside me head before; it was my sixth sense, my combat awareness. It often told me the things I needed to know in order to win fights, or what type of skills people had just by looking at them (like the time I knew that H1'er was a swordsman, even with no sword visible on him. He'd had a holdout I'd noticed somehow).
I didn't question it, I'd been told by an old marine that everyone had such a sixth sense, and to trust it. Hell, my father had said the same when I questioned him. But this was the first time it had told me that no matter what, I had no chance to win.
The first time it hadn't whispered of odds, probabilities, and fighting adaptations necessary in order to win. Just an abbreviated 'you have no chance.' Looking at the guy again, I noticed a faint greenish tinge, and an almost glow about him. When my eyes met his it was like an electric shock. I'd seen eyes like those before, on vets. Those eyes combined with that slightly off-hinged grin was a bad sign. He also had no eyebrows. I quickly steered Penny away from him.
“Excuse me sir.”
“Think nothing of it young man.”
His voice turned the whisper up a notch, but I ignored it. Just running away screaming would only bring unwanted attention. Well that and totally ruin my rep.
But we were done, to the side, and walking away from the strange guy without any confrontation at all. Which meant of course that the situation had to go to complete shit. And as with most situations, this one was ruined by an idiot.
“Hey old man, you a mutant?”
God damn it Mica, you must have a death wish. Oh well, I'll miss you, moron. I tried to hurry Penny along, but she'd taken another glance at the old guy, and was dragging her heels. She wanted to see the fireworks.
The guy looked over in mild surprise that I was sure was feigned.
“Why no young man, I'm not a mutant; why do you ask?”
“Because you look like one. You sure you aren't?”
I heard the tell-tale snap of a spring blade. That would be Daryl. Darrin was trying to look menacing, which was hard to do to a guy bigger than you, and Mica had his phone out.
His special H1 given phone which he'd made such a big deal of. The one that connected straight to the home office in Montgomery, 10 miles away.
“I'm absolutely positive young man. Again, why do you ask?”
That strangely insistent tone. The warning bell in my head was a gong the moment I heard it. He was looking for a fight too. This old guy was looking for a fight every bit as much as Mica was. I started dragging Penny along outright for a few feet, dropping any pretense whatsoever... before Darrin pulled his favorite battered piece of lead pipe.
She finally started to get the idea herself, and stopped needing to be pulled.
By then of course it was too late, I could well see how this was going to go down. This guy, mutant or not, had powers like one, and was not shy at all about using them. Even against scrubs like Mica and his two man gang. Or the police. Or humanity first. Or even the K.O.P., power armor and all. Once started, he'd fight everyone... and Mica was going to start him.
“Because we don't like mutants around here. This is a clean town, and we like to keep it that way.”
…Shit. I never hated being right more than now. A subtle move no one noticed put me in front of Penny as we walked. OK, judging by the look she just gave me, she knew. She also started walking faster, no doubt in reaction to what she called my 'fight face'. She told me I had one, though I never saw it, and that when I wore it, she knew crap was about to hit the fan. I wore it the day I broke Mica and his cronies, she told me.
“Well old man, I guess we'll have to check your credentials. The old fashioned way.”
I wasn't watching behind me, but I could almost sens the rush. Then the wave of whatever it was hit, and I found myself on the street, Penny half under me and unconscious. Right, old dude had powers, mutant or not. And he'd just cut loose with them in a crowded block of my hometown, and hurt Penny.
Right.
The voice in my head was no longer a whisper, it was a scream.
Cannot win, avoid engagement. Flee at best speed, only option for survival.
Not good enough voice. I demand options. Ways to win. Because this bastard was going down.
No way possible. To fight is to die.
Not good enough, you better work on it. 'Cause retreat ain't an option this time.
I stood up, checking Penny on the way. She was unconscious, and possibly hurt somehow. I wasn't sure what he hit us all with (radiation, microwaves gamma waves x-rays) but it could have cause permanent damage. Likely did, if the voice screaming in my head was true.
I on the other hand, felt fine. My head felt very hot but other than that, perfectly fine.
Absorption of ambient radiation 92%.
I shrugged. Whatever. My cigarettes were fine, so I took one out and lit it. The old guy was still at the door, as if he hadn't considered what his action in zapping everyone would be. Of course everyone in the diner, even big Mike, was out too. Or worse, I didn't exactly have time to check them all.
“Yo, old dude.”
He turned around, his surprise total and almost comical. I took a deep drag.
“You really shouldn't have done that. You ruined a perfectly nice night.”
The cigarette dangling where I could inhale it's relaxing vapor, my hands broke for my knives. The lock blades unlocking sounded pretty loud in the silence. I didn't want to go this far, but the voice was screaming that to have any chance at all I'd have to go lethal right from the outset. After a glance at the carnage on the street I wasn't about to argue.
He had even nailed the traffic along the street; of course that caused more than a few accidents. And a few fatalities, unless I missed my guess. Fucker didn't even look like he cared. At least I wouldn't have to worry about a car hitting Penny.
The jackass in question gave me a look that would have lifted an eyebrow if he'd have had one, staring right at the knives.
“Those didn't work for your compatriots, what makes you think they will work for you?”
Compatriots? What the hell, who talks like that nowadays?
“Not my compatriots, dude. I'm no friends of theirs. The problem is, I am friends with a few of the people you just hurt. So that makes me your problem. Talk is cheap, time to dance.”
Another drag and I was off, surprising him with my speed. I knew my knives could hurt him, the voice whispering in my head was telling me so. Death lay in hesitation, so I went right to it.
…...............................................................................................
Simon was actually impressed. Here was a hearty example of humanity; one who could absorb one of his favorite attacks. It was meant to quell resistance by trash, and perhaps it hadn't been necessary here, but it led to a rather marvelous development.
This young man was obviously a mutant of some kind. That was the only explanation. A tight burst of microwaves (as tight as he could manage at any rate) proved it. Leaning out of the way into a roll to the left, just enough to clear the most damaging effects, the young man leaped back to his feet with a speed Simon could follow, but not completely react to. So, a speedster, with a hint of an esper danger sense?
Annoying, but not as if such a combination could really hurt him.
That opinion was rapidly revised when the young man's blades came arcing in, one at his head and one at his kidney in a rather deceptive looking combat move. Had he had training? He didn't bother to dodge much, simply moving his head to make sure his eye wasn't a target; simple steel couldn't cut him, and he knew from a look that those knives were quality steel, but just steel nonetheless.
This opinion was smashed to microscopic pieces when his cheek lit up with pain, while simultaneously his side let him know it had sustained a cut as well. Simon grabbed the follow up roundhouse out of the air and threw his attacker.
A quick check to both abused places left him sighing in relief. The cut to the cheek was minor, and the potential killing blow to his kidney was far too shallow; it had barely broken skin. Another glance revealed the tell tale sheen of force fields coating both blades. Force fields strong enough to damage him at all were rare.
But if that was the best he could do, it was only a matter of time. Still, just how many abilities did this young one have? Power sets like this were rare. And the list of powers visibly displayed was in no way explaining how he was still up after eating the first blast. Surely it wasn't a matter of simple exemplar traits? Most exemplars were unable to deal with the radiation he could generate long.
He decided to up the ante.
…............................................................................................................
Alright, so the first attack had proven less decisive than I'd hoped, but done more damage than I feared I'd be able to pull off. Another blast coming, I profiled left and felt the ripple tickle my nose. My brain was on fire, my thoughts wrapped in cotton, and the voice was screaming at me to run, to run RIGHT NOW, and hope he tired of toying with me.
Again, I quashed it ruthlessly. Leaving Penny and Mike (I didn't really give a rat's ass about anyone else) to the tender mercies of this bastard just wasn't an option.
Running no longer an option. 4 minutes, 27 seconds ending in termination.
So death in under 5 minutes huh? I finished my cancer stick with a fatalistic shrug. If Mica's call had gone out, then the Knights of Purity might well be only minutes away. Perhaps I could play for time. But how did one play for time?
Well if one was me, then they attacked for all they were worth.
My right blade actually shattered on the guy this pass, the left bet a bit but held. He was sporting two new cuts though, and his attention was firmly cemented on me. He looked almost... happy.
“Time to get serious.”
I nodded, pulling another of my blades.
“I couldn't agree more.”
Handspring left, back flip right, I could feel the near hits. Whatever he was throwing was damaging me anyway. It was just lessened with the dodges. I could actually see my skin start to smoke. My dodges led him down the street, something I don't think he noticed. Or maybe he just didn't care. I was now on my last set of knives, all prior sets had melted. He did care when I flipped completely over his blasts and charged him again. Feeling the strain of a fight like this was for suckers.
A thrown knife and he was forced to break eye contact with me, or lose the eye. For all I knew his eyes were just as tough as the rest of him, but human instinct was a powerful thing to overcome. When my knife bounced off the back of his head I flipped again, somehow making it over his head just in time to keep myself lost. The voice was almost calm, like it should be.
Repeat slash in prior location.
He managed to get his hands in front of his eyes, so I drew a shallow line across his throat with one knife while checking something with another.
It seemed that repeated cuts to exactly the same spot would in fact, go deeper. Not by much, but perhaps it was enough. The voice was worth something after all.
Before I could try that again, I found myself embedded in a car somehow.
Time from beginning of engagement 4 minutes, 27 seconds.
Well shit. Now the voice in my head would just be insufferable. I tried to move, and found that I couldn't. I couldn't even feel the pain I was sure I should be feeling. If I was lucky, the old geezer would mistake me for dead. Of course I never even once suspected that would be the case. I could hear his footsteps coming closer, and I tried to at least meet death on my feet. But with a flash of heat, I was gone.
…........................................................................................
Dangerous. That young man was actually dangerous. An exemplar, a regenerator, a speedster and package deal psychic, and somehow able to absorb or negate high levels of his radiation. Not all of it, no... but just enough to be dangerous.
That last attack had actually started his fight-or-flight reactions; he was shaking from the adrenaline. He was sure the cut to his cheek would scar. The young man had actually done significant damage to him; he could count the people on that list on one hand... well two hands now. Yes, he was the sixth.
If not for that mistake in losing to grapple range, he might have won. Not that it was a mistake really, the force fields surrounding his weapons did not seem capable of being manipulated outside of those. He hadn't even tried to use them to shield himself with. Obviously untrained. Uncouth. Unlettered.
But still very honorable, in his way. He had led me away from his friends on purpose. He had tried to buy time for the authorities to arrive. And while he cared as much for trash as I did, he stood by his own. Admirable.
But now he had to be dead. Simon had grabbed the arm holding the knife to his throat (breaking it in the process) then thrown him almost straight up... a good dozen stories. His return to terra firma had all but shattered a car with the most awful screeching. Simon couldn't even see the body, it was hidden from view by the crater made in the unfortunate auto. Were they making cars less sturdy in these modern times?
Supposing he should be thorough, he approached to offer the appropriate coup-DE-gras when a form of gamma radiation washed over him. Well that answered that question; the young lad had been holding... it... somehow..?
In the shattered remnants of the car laid an enigma.
Simon was quite sure that he had thrown a young man up, and quite sure the same young man had come down again, proving he did not possess the ability to fly. But a young man was not what he he had just discovered; instead of a man of any stripe he found:
A young girl, perhaps twelve years of age, and certainly no older. Long black hair lay scattered fetchingly around her, giving her a Rapunzel like air. She was thin of frame and wrapped in a black dress adorned with lace and ribbons, just beginning to show the first small curves of womanhood. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully, with only the faintest hints of a frown marring her pixie-like features. He knew that if he could coax her eyes open, he would find them a most startling shade of green.
She was also free of all the radioactive energy he had been throwing around for the last several minutes.
She was...
She was...
She was perfect.
The general stormed ahead, lesser officials and scientists bobbing in his metaphorical wake. His face was a black cloud, and his voice was thunder itself. Like one would suspect however, his vengeful wrath was directed ahead of him, rather than behind; a fact for which many of the scientists were very grateful.
He swept into the conference room and took his chair at the head of the table, fuming impatiently while the others found theirs. No sooner had the last butt found a seat than he growled out:
“Alright, so what do we have?”
The first to speak would undoubtedly earn some measure of his displeasure for their very own. Doctor Emila Destayne, P.H.D., M.D., with degrees in biology and genetics alone had the alphabet soup weight to survive such. Suppressing a sigh, she answered.
“Sir, at roughly 0900 yesterday morning, the empowered individual known as 'Omega Man' escaped confinement at the ARC facility under Wanata mountain; according to subsection 4 he was allowed out, then tracked while resources were called in for his termination, he managed to walk....”
“One moment, doctor. Why were resources not in place for his removal?”
A pointed stare told the general she wouldn't take any heat for the following decision.
“Budgetary concerns, sir.”
A nod and another growl.
“Continue.”
“Yes, sir. Omega Man managed to walk to the nearest town, one Snead. Interesting name, that. At any rate, our asset, one mister Smith, was en-route and less than an hour away, the long distance surveillance teams were in place, and all was going according to contingency plan theta 7. Then something unknown happened, and the town of Snead was irradiated.”
The general had several questions, but the first was the most important.
“How bad?”
“One block took the equivalent of a small scale nuclear device; perhaps a fabled “dirty bomb”. With proper treatment, all involved in the incident should make a full recovery, or nearly so. Those not involved in a number of random accidents at any rate. Fatalities were surprisingly low; only 14.”
And the next question, perhaps equally important.
“How? What do we know?”
“a surveillance satellite we tasked with tracking Omega man took these images at roughly 1930 hours.”
The doctor slid several glossy photos across the table. Sure, she would rather just hand the general a digital copy on a tablet, but the general was old school and appreciated well executed copies. Each still showed something slightly different, but the big money shots were the first and the last. The first showed Omega man's bald head glinting in the light as he faced a black head of hair. Not far from the unknown, a young woman lay felled for reason unknown. Closer to Omega Man were 3 more fallen victims; the implication was clear to one who knew Omega Man's methods.
“So he used the pulse? Did this one set him off? Who was he?”
If the black head of hair in the photo had set off Omega Man, he was dead.
“No sir, initial investigations have the young man with the cell phone as the instigator. The young man facing off against Omega Man here is a known delinquent of local reputation, one Victor Smith. Hmm, son of an army ranger with a purple heart and silver star from Iraq.”
The third question had to be asked.
“Mutant?”
“No sir, not listed as a mutant at all. Just an extraordinarily tough baseline. However, that dignosis was clearly wrong. Look at the next photo, please.”
The next shot showed Omega Man again clearly, his bald head a beacon. It also showed a smashed car. And inside that smashed car was a girl in a dress. What was a girl doing inside a smashed car?”
With a wry grin, Doctor Destayne shook her head.
“That's Victor Smith, sir. He lost the fight and shifted into that.”
Well that meant the youth was alive at least. The general was well aware of Simon Crane's mental... foibles.
“So a mutant after all, and a shifter?”
She shook her head again.
“No sir, the tests come up negative for both. Whatever Victor Smith is, she isn't a shifter. At least not as we understand the term. Besides, being a shifter would not allow Victor to hold off an empowered being of that magnitude for several minutes.”
Truthfully, calling three minutes several was being generous, but the last one to go toe to toe with Simon Crane had died in seconds. Even knowing how Victor had survived, her survival was remarkable. Just surviving long enough to peak Simon Crane's interest was a feat few could match.
“Sir, we found this note on the body.”
She slid a copy over. She had long since memorized the short missive.
Take good care of her. If you don't, I will know. Simon Crane.
The generals eyebrows, like ghost white caterpillars upon his head, managed to crawl their way up to the top of his head.
“Well that seems... ominous. And Crane's whereabouts?”
“He gave the surveillance detail the slip, sir. His current whereabouts are unknown.”
There was no hiding the general's surprise.
“What? What about the satellite?”
Doctor Destayne shrugged as she replied.
“The satellite malfunctioned for approximately 4 minutes, and when it came back online he was gone, out of effective range. Possibly some now power, or an old one re-imagined. Radiation mimicking the effects of sunspots, perhaps. We will know more if we can recover the satellite. All we know for sure is something knocked out the primary systems. We have several teams scouring the area searching for him.”
The general's copy of the note was crumpled up, and the growl made its return.
“And the casualties?”
Doctor Destayne knew the general was masking concern over one particular survivor over asking about them all.
“Being treated as we speak, as stated, most will fully recover. Decontamination teams are already at work as well.”
“And our asset?”
Doctor Destayne took a long drink to mask her unease before answering that question.
“Still in place near Snead, just in case.”
The general stood up abruptly.
“Very well doctor, well done. The young man... woman... whatever, is in your care as requested. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a manhunt to oversee.”
Without even waiting, he swept out of the room. Doctor Destayne waited patiently as the good general's entourage followed, then turned to hr own team with a glee most found disconcerting.
“Let's go attend to our patient, shall we?”
….............................................................
I had gone ten rounds with the mutant version of King Kong. I hadn't even had a plane, not that that would have helped. I remembered it all, and there was no doubt every bone in my body was broken.
So why didn't I feel any pain? A quick check revealed that everything worked, but there was something odd, something wrong about my arms. Legs too. I couldn't quite place what it was though. And what the... some joker had put me in a hospital gown. I was going to have to hurt someone, injured or not. At least, if that someone hadn't been a hottie nurse. Or maybe I had bumped my head a little too hard, and was hallucinating. That sounded pretty plausible, actually.
I was in a huge room with a white theme. A white bed with a shiny steel frame, white sheets, white ceiling tiles, white paint on the walls, a dark wooden bedside table the only real splash of color. The bed had a wired control I recognized, as if the smell and look alone wasn't enough to tip me off. I was in a hospital.
Well I didn't see any bandages or IV's or even machines hooked up to me, so I didn't seem to be too badly hurt.
I also figured out what was wrong. The hospital gown almost completely covered me, and my feet stopped about halfway down the bed. Maybe a bit more. I swung myself up and sat on the edge, and my legs dangled well short of the ground.
What the hell, had the rat-bastard been packing a shrink power too?
The long thin glossy strands tickling my shoulders like threads of silk belied that notion; My hair wasn't it's usual brown nest. Instead it was a curtain of inky black that could stretch down well past my shoulders. There was no ray or mutant power I knew of to shrink people while making their hair grow. Let alone change color and grow.
A short hop off the bed and I bolted for the bathroom, my tiny feet beating a nice staccato on the tile. I had maybe a foot on the door handle height wise, it was hard to tell. The bathroom was bright enough to need no extra light with the door open; the mirror was set at a height that I could no longer fit all of me in, but it showed enough.
A girl was staring back at me.
Long black hair framing a very angry looking but perhaps overly delicate face. Small thin straight nose, high cheekbones, small thin eyebrows that appeared to be drawn on over large brilliant green eyes. Somewhat larger lips than I was used to proportionally. Short hops showed nothing save the hospital gown. I would have to feel up this stranger to learn the truth.
Small swellings on the chest, sensitive to the touch and covered with some for of cloth that could only be a bra? Check. Small flare in my new hips? Check. Butt beginning to hang out behind me like a train caboose? Check. And... Yep, damn it, someone was going to die. Well more than one. Some joker had put Disney princess panties on me.
Perhaps even the entire hospital would have to die, depending on how many saw me like this.
The door opened.
“Hello?”
A cultured female voice I didn't recognize entered, followed by someone I didn't know, judging from the footsteps.
An amused grin belonging to a tall statuesque blonde greeted me when I peered around the door. She had blue eyes and the kind of figure that would draw comments from anyone, including a fair number of women. Her name tag read: “Dr. Destayne, MD.” Something... some presence, moved inside my head with the sight of her. It felt like part of my brain belly flopped inside my skull.
“Ahh, there you are. Hello, Victor.”
“Are you responsible for this?”
Her eyes positively sparkled with her growing amusement as she replied.
“Responsible for what?”
I gestured.
“This! Putting me in this shape. The stupid under-roos, the hair, the stupid size! And who are, you? How do you even know me anyway?!?”
I couldn't really get in her face; I had to settle for staring up at her and pointing a finger. Hardly an intimidating image, but she still backed up.
“Calm down Victor. Nothing will be gained from shouting. No, I am not responsible for your current condition; Omega Man is, according to our best intelligence. How we don't know, as his abilities are well known and include no possibility of shape shifting another organism.”
That stopped me. I turned away and jumped on the bed, collecting my thoughts. There wasn't anywhere else to sit in the room, something a little odd, so the doctor sat beside me.
“Omega Man? The name of the rat bastard who attacked Penny was Omega Man? How stupid sounding.”
Her reply was laced with more of that same amusement.
“Yes, well, at the time, the phrase meant something. You see it's based off an old movie that.. you know what, never mind, it's not important. What is important is that Omega Man is very dangerous; he has the ability to irradiate entire cities and is strong enough to pull apart a tank. Not to mention how nigh-invulnerable he is.”
“I know, believe me, I know. He ran over me like I wasn't even there. But if his power is punching things or nuking them, why am I a girl?”
She shook her head.
“We don't know, but we suspect it wasn't from him. After all, do you think a normal person could go toe to toe with a walking nuclear weapon, even for as long as you managed?”
That tired old lie again.
“I am normal; I've been tested three times. Unless you have a different test than the MCO uses, I'm as normal as it gets. And who might this “we” be, hmm?”
The doctor smiled again, and the delight all but dripped from her tone.
“Oh! Well, “we” are the United States government. In my case, the United States Army medical corps, research division. And as for that test, no we don't have another test. Just common sense. Everyone else who even annoys Omega Man simply keels over, organs cooked from the inside. Several of your townsfolk are in intensive care as we speak... though here you are, hale and whole. Somehow, you survived without even so much as a minor burn.”
I could remember burning, and my bones breaking. But for now, my own needs paled.
“Yeah, hale and whole and looking like a kid. A girl kid. How's Penny?”
“In intensive care but expected to make a full recovery.”
Whoever this doctor really was, she was definitely government; something which raised my hackles. I remembered dealing with VA doctors about my dad's care. That worked out so well. Dealing with this one would probably be worse.
“I want to see her.”
“Of course. We can go now, unless you'd rather get dressed first?”
Snide little witch. Well not so little really. She was probably a good 6 feet. I really didn't want to go anywhere with my butt hanging out – made things a little cold.
“Yeah clothes would be nice. But I'm pretty sure mine are trashed and won't fit.”
She nodded with a grin that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Joker's.
“Absolutely correct. In fact, your old clothes were nowhere to be found when we located you. Even your underwear. However it just so happens that I recently took it upon myself to make sure you were cared for. So in the closet are several outfits which should fit you with ease. I'll be outside and down the hall, waiting.”
And out she walked. So I was found like this, sans clothing of any kind? Yep, I'd have to start murdering people. I might even have to start with her.
Then again, aside from one overly girly looking and overly frilly dress, there were jeans tee shirts without logos or frills, a pair of sweat pants and shirt that looked like they might be comfortable, and even a nightgown, which I knew I wouldn't use.
So maybe I'd save her for last. That seems like a plan.
I grabbed the sweat-clothes... I didn't want to wear anything particularly form fitting at the moment. Taking the gown off revealed the small bra nestled against my torso like a second skin. It was plain white, and appeared to have sensors woven into it.
For all of that, it fit so well I almost couldn't tell it was there. I wasn't sure what it was made of, but it wasn't irritating to have there, even though the small bug bites I was currently sporting were pretty sensitive. So I left it there. I didn't see any replacements for Disney, and I was half tempted just to shuck them and do without, but no sooner would I do that than the doc would try to pants me or something.
With her sense of humor I wouldn't put it past her.
So I just shimmied into the pants, which were too damn small, and threw the shirt over my head. A quick peek out revealed the hallway was empty, and the good doctor was at the nurse's station to the left, chatting up the nurse... who was in fact, as good a major a hottie as she was. They could have been sisters. Again, that.. something in my brain flopped, with a sense of weight. Oh well, I was used to worse sensations than that.
As silently as I could I crossed the distance. It was never polite to eavesdrop, but whatever I happened to hear while she was expecting me was fair game. I considered that rule to be something like that rule the cops used to overhear things in public places. If it worked for them, after all, it could work for me.
What really concerned me was the lack of army guys. In any army installation there were army guys, right? Granted this was just one hallway, but no guards on the dangerous bad ass who went one on one with one of their rogue guys?
That was another thing; the hinted army presence pretty much assured that this Omega Man jerk-off was one of their somehow, gone crazy. I didn't ask before, and the good doctor didn't say. But maybe, just maybe, I should pin her down on that issue. She had to suspect I suspected... or something.
But of course, true to my luck, the nurse pointed me out well before I was in range to hear them; this hall was stupidly long. Must be 50 rooms here. A sure sign that I wasn't anywhere I knew anymore.
“So where are we? This doesn't look like Phoenix.”
It was a shot in the dark; the air didn't feel like Arizona; in Arizona even through hospital air conditioning you could feel the dry, brittle heat. This air was too moist.
“Oh, just an army medical facility somewhere. I can't really tell you where, except we are still in Arizona.”
“Doctor Destayne, you shouldn't have even told her the state!”
She waved the nurse off as I got close enough to read her tag; Nurse Joy. Really.
“Oh relax Joy, Victor here isn't going to cause any trouble.”
The nurse and the doctor had matching gleams in their eyes. This wasn't going to be fun at all.
“Victor huh? Shouldn't that be Victoria?”
Yeah, no. I wouldn't be spending any more time looking like this that I had to. I'd force the doctor to use her zap ray on me, and go back to being me. Then I'd shake the dust of this shit hole off my feet and head home. If I could, I'd take Penny with me, I wasn't fond of leaving her here at the army's tender mercies. Seen enough of what could happen with that from my dad. The doctor put her hands on her hips as I got close enough, a sure sign of feminine outrage.
“Well that won't work. You can't go see any patients like that.”
The she pulled out a hairbrush and attacked me with it while the nurse laughed.
“What the hell, lady!”
I couldn't fend her off, she was too strong. She had me gathered up with one arm, in an iron grip every bit as good as the one Omega jerk had, and was running that torture device through my tangles with the other.
“Wouldn't do to see Penny with your hair in knots, would it?”
I wanted to move my head, I really did. But if I did, it would hurt worse. That weight in my brain began to get worse.. and I had to actively push to keep it down. Though I'm not sure what I was pushing, or how.
“Penny won't care about my stupid hair! Now let go!”
Abruptly, she did, so fast I almost fell over. Oh yes, she'd get hers.
“Of course! All done, anyway. Now lets go shall we? Ground floor, elevators are this way.”
I followed a wary three steps behind. Well three of my old steps anyway; seemed to be around 6 now. I didn't see any other weapons on her person, but either she was very strong, or I was very weak, so it wouldn't do to take chances.
But then again, as we stepped into the elevator, we were alone. I was sure there was a camera, but with the emergency stop engaged, that wasn't necessarily a problem. It was time for real answers. I moved as she pushed the button for basement one, noting I was on the tenth for some reason. That pressure in my head increased suddenly, and shoving the good doctor away from the control panel while hitting the emergency stop was all too easy. I was gentle enough not to rap her head on the wall at least; wouldn't do to knock her loopy and not get my answers.
“Alright so now that we're alone, you're going to answer my questions for real this time. First question; who is Omega Man really, and why did you assholes let him go?”
She shook her head, absolutely unconcerned but at least serious this time. I'd make her concerned if I had to; that choice was hers.
“Omega Man is a former American agent for the CIA who took part in a specific super soldier program that I cannot discuss; mainly because I don't know all the details . He is an extremely powerful altered human who went insane and was locked up in a top secret facility because it was considered impossible to euthanize him in painless fashion.
He escaped yesterday morning and we were tracking him easily when something in your hometown set him off. The rest you know better than I.”
I snorted.
“Yeah, that would be an asshat by the name of Mica. Local moron who thinks of himself as a tough guy, never been anywhere harder than the 'burbs. Tried to call H1 and the MCO on the old guy.”
“Well, he's alive, though he probably wishes he hadn't accosted anyone that day. The long term effects of the dose of radiation he received were... extensive.”
I wasn't about to get side tracked. I shook her to make sure she understood that.
“Second question; what did you do to me, and how do you reverse it? Because you better damn well be able to reverse it.”
“What do you mean what did we do? We picked you up and took you here for medical care. Medical care which you didn't need, I might add. At any rate we picked you up in your current form among the other survivors; the form you wear is one we didn't give you.”
If they didn't do it, then who did? Damn it, how could I kick ass without the appropriate ass to kick?
“Not saying I believe you, but if I do, do you know a way to reverse this?”
She shook her head.
“I wouldn't even know where to begin. At least not yet anyway; I do have a few theories on what happened and why.”
No way to go back to being me? To be like this for the rest of my life? I'd done a lot of terrible things in my life, but I was pretty sure I didn't deserve this. Karma striking with that ham hand of hers again no doubt.
The doctor took advantage of my lapse of attention and promptly shoved me into the elevator doors; she had been sandbagging on me! That weight I felt in my head shifted and all of a sudden a blast of... something arced from my hands and blew her back into her wall.
Rather than slumping back as if hurt, or even looking shocked, she grinned suddenly and stretched.
“I knew it! I just knew it.”
Well she may not be shocked, but I was. My hands didn't look any different, but I couldn't deny that whatever that blast was, it had come from me. I was a mutant after all, somehow. And how was that possible, with the doc stating that I still tested negative?
“What do you know?”
“First you have to say you're sorry.”
What?
“Sorry for what?”
Her grin went ear to ear again.
“Sorry for attacking me of course; I really would have answered all your questions truthfully, violence wasn't necessary. Not big on trust, are you?”
No, I wasn't big on trust.
“I won't apologize, I'm really not sorry; you guys did kidnap me after all. I have no idea what you did to me while I was out, and you could have...altered me as easily as anyone else.”
She just stood there and grinned. I couldn't figure out why she wasn't making a move to hit the button behind me; once the elevator arrived at a floor I had no doubt that the army guys I hadn't seen yet would be there with guns drawn.
So why was she so comfortable in my presence?
Finally I could take the waiting no longer.
“Alright, fine, I'm sorry I attacked you.”
The smile dropped as if it had never been.
“It's OK, I know you aren't. But you need a better handle on your temper; there are some people out there that will make you very sorry for any sort of outburst. Willing or not, you've taken your first step into a very dangerous world.
Now on to business; the reason why you changed is simple; you're a special kind of shifter, and you took that form yourself subconsciously when you started losing the fight against Omega Man; you took that form because you knew it had the power to win, power you didn't possess in your old body. At least, subconsciously.”
Staring at my tiny hands begged the question:
“How? This body is actually weaker than my old one. If my old one couldn't do it this one wouldn't have a chance.”
Her head shook and it seemed as if she were laughing at me.
“Not at all; I'm stronger than I look. And I'm guessing you couldn't do that blast of yours before, or at the very least, didn't know how.”
I had to give her that one.
“True enough, I've never done that before. Don't even know what it is.”
She wasn't done with her theories.
“If I had to guess I'd say it was a version of Omega Man's radiation abilities. A small taste, but that's what it felt like to me.”
I didn't really want to ask how she'd survived a personal encounter with the guy who kicked my ass, but she was going to tell me anyway,
“No, nothing so epic as your encounter, with fisticuffs and knives at dusk against the unstoppable killing machine. I just have a few abilities myself. I'm a bit tougher than normal folk, a bit stronger than normal folk, and have another power that is little more than fun at parties. I can smell and taste mutant abilities in others.
And yet you were able to overpower me briefly, and then use an energy blast that smelled like those Omega Man uses... all the while smelling like a completely normal human. In your fight you used knives to wound Omega Man, yet his skin can withstand direct tank fire.
The only thing his skin is weak against are certain forms of monomolecular force fields, which can push their way into the spaces between cells. You had to be using those. So that's at least five powers you used; regeneration, super dense skin, force fields, the sense you used to avoid his blasts he sent your way... yes I noticed that too... and shifting. Just now you used a power that sensed almost exactly like someone you'd only met once. And you still test negative for mutation. So that's seven.
And yet, for all of that... you don't display them all at the same time. Why no force fields here? They would have worked as well as the blast you used. There is more at work here than I can piece together at present, but you my fascinating one, are a powers shifter.”
What the hell was that? Even looking directly into that infuriating smile, I had to ask, my own damnable curiosity raised.
“What the hell is that?”
“So glad you asked! Using some sort of determination or protocol I'm not sure of yet, you pick and choose between mutant abilities, most likely abilities you have been exposed to before, based on the situation you find yourself in. Specifically those abilities most likely to grant survival or victory over your enemies.
Of course there has to be a maximum you can use the ability at, as if there were not you'd have killed Omega Man in your encounter, but still all in all, a very terrifying ability to have. I dare say had you encountered anyone less powerful, you probably could win any encounter easily. At least, once you understand more of how it works.”
I shook my head, and something in my expression seemed to make her take a step back.
“I don't need to, I think. During the fight with the jackass, I felt a pressure in my head and heard a kind of voice; only not really a voice. It was telling me what I needed to do to win, or at least break even. It told me I couldn't beat him, come to think of it. But the pressure hasn't really left; since I woke up it's been in the back of my head, telling me how to beat you if I have to. Telling me I can beat you, anytime I want to.”
Ah ha! Success, she finally looked uneasy.
“Relax doc, I got no plans of taking you out, at least not yet. That remains to be seen; if you're telling me the truth and have taken good care of Penny, I won't hurt you.”
She lifted an eyebrow that had to have been sculpted.
“You do realize if you hurt me, you won't make it out of here alive, don't you?”
I grinned; I could tell this was a front.
“You do realize that if I decide you screwed with me, it won't matter to you what happens to me after the fact, don't you?”
“Well then let's just go see your girlfriend, so you can put your fears to rest, shall we?”
I moved aside to let he push the stop button again, restarting our descent into what was no doubt the x-ray wing of the hospital. Why the survivors were there, I could guess.
“She's not my girlfriend. Just a friend.”
She shot me a look loaded with skepticism.
“Quite a drastic series of actions you’ve committed yourself to for a mere friend.”
I had a glare of my own in response.
“There is no such thing as a “mere” friend. Friends are people who trust you, and who you can trust. That sort of trust you go right to the wall for. I'd walk into hell if a friend needed me there; in fact I did yesterday. No regrets at all if she's safe. Someone like you probably can't understand.”
Well that shut her up, but it didn't stop her from staring at me all the rest of the ride down. AT least we were free of the standard elevator muzak.
With a quiet chime the doors opened, and I found myself staring into a bunch of guns; I followed the barrels to the faces of a bunch of pissed off army guys with a shrug. I could tell that at least a few safeties were off, but I felt no fear at all. That pressure in my brain flopped again, and I heard it clearly this time:
Small arms fire; useless. Weave in left, spin right, engage **** fourteen and threat neutralized.
The doc stepped in before they could fire; I was already half into my first step of the dance that I could see would end in many cut throats and a ton of blood behind her. I hope she didn't notice that. I also wondered what was wrong with me. The army guys were just doing their jobs after all, and they didn't need shit from me. They especially didn't need to die for pointing guns in my direction on orders from some petty excuse for an officer.
While the doc tried to placate the troops, I idly wondered what fourteen was... something was there, but I couldn't understand what the voice meant. Power maybe? Power fourteen? But if it was power, then that meant I had thirteen others locked away. If the doc was to be believed, I only knew seven of those.
“Come on Victoria.”
How quickly she forgets. I couldn't really do more than chide her with the army guys still there and looking at me cross-eyed.
“Don't call me that doc. We've had this discussion already.”
“Well, I know we have, but... never mind, we can talk about it later. Do you have a nickname you go by? Perhaps the ever original 'Vic'?”
I rolled my eyes.
“Yes, I go by Vic sometimes. If you want to call me that, it's fine.”
The walk down the hall was a short one, but the doc stopped me right outside the door, her key-card poised in the scanner.
“Have you thought about how you're going to do this? She's awake after all, but she won't recognize the new you.”
I shrugged.
“Hadn't thought about it really, but I should be able to make her believe me. If not, well then I'll at least see she's OK.”
The doc swiped her card and we entered.
“I have a better way, but it will involve you being quiet for a bit and letting me do the talking. You up for that?”
I rolled my shoulders again.
“Sure, what do I have to lose? I can always step in if you start screwing things up.”
I let her lead the way, since she had the plan. Through the door was a room that had maybe begun it's life as a storeroom, but now had little cubicle room much like a prison cell. Though these were made of a clear form of plastic, with some sort of mesh imbedded in it. Probably lead, if I had to guess. Moon suited people rushed to and fro with lab equipment, some of which I recognized, some I did not.
Most of them were filled with the citizens of Snead; I recognized many. There was big Mike, sporting a bandage over his head. Old Jed, who apparently hadn't been far enough away from things even though having a half hour head start. Come to think of it, he had slowed down some. Officer Leland, Mrs. Ackerman, Mr. Hogarth... and there in the last used cell, was Penny Merril, my lifelong friend. She looked up, curious and angry, as we stopped in front of the clear door to her cubicle.
“Well? I told you not to come back unless you could tell me what happened to Vic! If you're here....”
“Yes, young lady I bring news of your friend.”
She scanned open the door, ignoring the moon suits nearby and walked right into the small area, personal space issues forcing Penny back onto the small cot. With a shrug I followed; if she wasn't worried about it, I wasn't either. Following her motion, I shut it behind me and heard it latch, and sounds dampened a bit. Penny demanded attention, boring a hole through the doc with her stare. I guess I wasn't the only one with trust issues?
“Well?”
In response the doc pulled out her phone and opened a video on it.
“Watch this; it will answer all your questions.”
We both crowded around her. The video appeared to be a top down thing, showing Snead. Maybe a camera from a helicopter, on extreme zoom? It showed the diner, and there was Omega dick. Mica and the twins, and I had just stepped out with Penny. We watched as the fight replayed with crystal clarity; there was never any doubt about what we were seeing. Penny watched with interest, the concern, and finally full blown alarm.
I however couldn't help but be fascinated as I watched myself, already unconscious, melt somehow into the form I now wore, with my clothes somehow morphing into that silly girly dress I'd seen in the closet upstairs. Another question raised but that could wait; Penny had, after a long moment, made the connection and was now staring at me slack jawed.
“Hi, Penny.”
She switched from just staring at me to pointing while trying to talk.
“But he... and then... and you...!”
Then she poked me. Right in the bra.
“You're a mutant!”
I scratched the back of my head, then stopped as I caught myself doing it. Penny always used to tell me it was my nervous tell. Wish I had a cigarette.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
She sat back on the bed, leaning away from me.
“So, you're a mutant.”
She seemed to expect an answer, so I gave it again.
“Guess I am.”
“For how long?”
What? How long is one normally a mutant?
“All my life, I'd suppose.”
Wrong thing to say, apparently.
“No! I meant how long have you known?!? Have you been messing with me this entire time, laughing at me behind my back!?!”
“What! No! I just learned today! You know I always tested negative, every single time! The only way I found out was fighting the jerkbag for hurting you!”
The doc cleared her throat.
“If I may interject, Miss Smith is quite correct; conventional testing cannot reveal her mutant status.”
I winced. Did she have to call me a 'Miss'?
“So you're really a....”
“yeah.”
The doc interjected again.
“Miss smith is a shifter, of sorts.”
I saw it in her face. The very moment in time when I lost her entirely. She sealed the deal by turning her back on me.
“Whatever; I don't care. Get out of here and leave me alone.”
“Penny....”
She screamed loud enough that everyone in the large room took notice, sound baffling or not.
“Get out you filthy mutant! Leave! Don't come back!”
And then she stuck her fingers in her ears like a child as the doc opened her mouth. I grabbed the doc's arm and pointed to the door as her sculpted eyebrow raised once more like a pirate ship flag. With a shrug she buzzed us out, and I led the way out of the room amid the stares.
The hard looks said it all; there was no one else here I wanted to talk to.
Once out of the door I found a nice comfy wall to lean against with a sigh. Now I really needed a cigarette. Only one thing to say to sum up the situation.
“Well, that went better than I expected.”
After all I knew Penny had issues with mutants.
“Well that was fine thanks for you saving her life.”
I shoved the hurt down so it wouldn't taint my reply and started off down the hall towards the elevator; the doc fell in beside me.
“It's fine, she's alive and in good health. You did right by her doc, and right by me. But now I've got to ask; what are your plans? You going to try keeping me here? Or keeping them here?”
The grin was back, but in reverse.
“Oh no, those people are going home. Perhaps in 3 days, when the tablets we've given them finally purge the last of the radiation from their systems, with a prescription designed to reverse any long term damage. Well as much of the damage as we can reverse anyway. You, on the other hand, are a more complicated case.”
I stopped and looked up directly into her eyes, and the brain weight flopped again.
“You going to try locking me up?”
She didn't even hesitate, stopping and staring down right into my own gaze. I could see no guile in hers.
“Not at all, you are free to go wherever you will, whenever you will... but it's complicated. For one, I have another video for you to see, but I was hoping for a better time and setting for it. If you'll be patient?”
In my brain and then eyes I felt something shift, and I knew she was telling the truth. I also knew she smelled differently than all the other people I'd met. A special something extra involved, beyond the light airy scent of perfume and faint sour tang of sweat.
“I will if you do me a favor in return.”
The eyebrow flag raised again. I was half tempted to count the times she did that. At least the grin was on it's way right side up again. As annoying as the grin was, I felt there had to be something drastically wrong when she frowned. I wasn't sure why it concerned me.
“Oh, and what's that?”
“I need cigarettes. As soon as possible.”
Doctor (call me Emilia) Destayne put the money in the machine and out popped my smokes. It hadn't taken much; I'd just told her they took the edge off on a day when I was considering how best to snap everyone's neck. I'd been a little worried that she would take it as a threat since I'm not the best at explaining things, but she took it in stride, for all that it pissed off the honor guard. Five minutes of words and I was puffing with a profound sigh.
Outside, of course, since this was a hospital.
“So, what happens now?” I asked her, leaning back to hold up the wall.
“Well, that's up to you.”
I smelled a hint of bullshit. “How so, exactly?”
The good doctor started ticking fingers off. “You're officially a non-entity, and don't exist. There is no one willing to contest that or fight our claim to you. As such, you've been given to me to take care of. I have a set of documents on the way under the name Victoria Destayne, but they will take awhile to arrive. In the meantime, you'll be living with me, in my house in Middletown, Virginia. You'll love it there. I'm willing to take you in, and after settling in, we will have to talk about fitting in. That, or the army can have you; you go in as a ward of whatever state they decide and enter the system. I can almost guarantee things will go less than smoothly if you choose that route.”
So I could be locked away somewhere and raised as a weapon, or play ball and have a layer of insulation between me and being locked away and used as a weapon. Having the doc's name and then suddenly vanishing would bring heat of a kind down on all their heads, especially after they went to all the trouble of fabricating the life for me.
The only problem is I was pretty sure the doc wanted a daughter, here. I didn't really know how to play that part.
She confirmed it. “Of course, you'll have to go to school, and do all those other troubling things you're currently thinking about; I won't lie to you there. In fact, in your case, it might be even more important than it is for most – there is a school that teaches the youth of the world how to use their powers, and I can't help but think you need that bad. My home isn't really that far from it, as the crow flies.”
Does Marvel know someone is ripping them off? Is the owner an old bald guy?”
The doc grinned. “Not really. The owner is about as far from an old bald guy as it is possible to get. So what's it to be? Say the word, and I can get an appointment with the school; quickly and easily.”
It wasn't really much of a choice, but I considered both options anyway, at least until my cig burned out. “I think I'd rather hang with you if you don't mind.” I couldn't deny that learning about what my power did and why appealed to me. The doc had implied the school eggheads had taught her, and I could deal with that.
She also implied that the school was, while close, away from her. And given that it was a secret place (I certainly hadn't heard of it) I doubted anyone could just go there on a whim to kidnap me or anything.
“Sure, I don't mind. I invited you after all. Alright, I'll get it all set up. But for now, it's time to fly again.”
I resumed my holding up the wall pose, and she grinned. “We aren't in Virginia, after all. So it's time to go, my lovely new daughter. Time to see your new home.”
“Joy.”
She lunged, and grabbed my hand, pulling me off the wall. I had to remind myself not to deck her. “Oh it'll be fun, I have all sorts of projects in mind for you once we get there. I need my windows done, and my windowsills painted, and the gutters cleaned, and....”
I tuned her out. She was a bit too obvious about trying to get my goat anyway.
We headed into the parking garage, and into a black limo. I watched as a steamer trunk was loaded, as well as bags that I recognized. The driver opened the door, and it took me a second to realize everyone was looking at me; I'd just been about to cross the car and enter from the other side.
“Right, whatever.” I got in, and the doc piled in behind me with a smile.
The driver shut the door behind her and I stretched out.
Inching my hand toward the booze caused the doc's grin to widen. “You know you only weigh about sixty pounds, right?”
Darn it. I eased away from the whiskey. “Right, one would probably screw me up.” That was probably not the best idea.
“I'm not saying no, by the way.”
“If you did, I'd just ignore you,” I told her.
“That's fine, as long as we're alone or among friends,” she replied, nodding her head at the driver. “But when among everyone else, you're going to have to act. I do hope you can do that.”
I shrugged. “We'll find out together.”
The car ride was a short one, to the outskirts of the military base that was trying hard not to look like a military base and the small airport. I didn't question it when the doc led the way to a small private jet already facing the end of the landing strip and the desert beyond with its engines idling.
The driver waved me off and managed the steamer trunk himself. I snagged the bags when he wasn't looking, and slipped them into the cargo area next to the trunk. They held my old clothes, and some new ones, unfortunately, both sets for me.
As soon as I went up the stairs, the door was shut and we began to taxi with a lurch.
“Belt up.” The doc called. She was already belted in somehow.
I dove into the nearest seat and locked up. The window was open, and I watched as the ground receded.
I could feel the stress ramp up; something about flying made my fists and brain clench.
“You can smoke on this aircraft if you have to,” The doc said, concern her makeup of the moment. “Some do anyway. I'd just recommend you wait until cruising altitude.
I tried to give her a smile; It didn't take. “I got it. I'll be fine.”
My mind was telling me to tense, and it was much stronger than before I found myself in this stupid body – but that was probably a false lead. After all, plenty of girls could handle plane rides. Was I afraid of flying? I'd never been afraid of heights before.
A closer look, a more in-depth one, revealed it was the voice. That one voice I'd heard yelling at me before was yammering at me in a whisper now: fall from this height will prove fatal over and over in a loop. Telling the voice I had no intention of falling didn't quiet it.
Something else was also happening; that snap crackle popping feeling but on repeat, almost as if it were shuffling my head like a deck of cards.
I forced myself to relax and tried to sleep. My head was having none of it.
“Hey.” I jumped, having almost forgotten the doc was here. She was close, out of her seat and staring into me with her big eyes.
“Hey,” I answered; she'd seen my reaction, but didn't mention it. I wasn't going to bring it up.
“So, this flight is pretty boring. Want to help me liven it up some?”
“How?” I asked, wary.
The doc smiled and lifted herself up, sliding into the seat across from mine. Then she pulled out – a deck of cards? Some colorful deck...Uno?
I felt I should remind her of some important things. “You realize I'm not a kid, right?”
She nodded, smile still on. “You don't need to be a kid to like Uno. Come on, two people can play this.”
“The flight attendant makes three.” I pointed out.
“So she does – and she has the drink tray we need! It's win-win!”
…...
Apparently, I sucked at Uno, somehow. I wasn't as bad as the flight attendant, but the deceptively simple game apparently had some depth that I wasn't seeing, and the doc was a master of. She smoked us most of the time. When she finally put the deck up, just before the tray tables were due to be placed in an upright position, I might have been a little disappointed; I was way behind on won games.
Not that I'd ever admit such a thing, of course. The doc's grin told me she knew.
Another limo ride, this one slightly longer, and we were in suburbia, USA. A more wet and humid suburbia, with different trees and more green just lying around. It was also in better condition than I was used to, and I counted three cop cars patrolling the streets before we stopped. Had I somehow taken a trip to a gated community, and missed the gate? All the houses were magazine worthy, but none of them had anything tacky at all. They just didn't stand out in any way; it was weird.
I felt like I was watching one of those old movies about family life during the cold war or something.
The house the limo finally pulled up to was right off the main drag, on Elm Street. That much fit; the place was a two-story colonial, and it fit with its colonial neighbors... but it was stone to their wood. And not brick, either. Rough stones in shades of gray mortared together in that vaguely picturesque way some people liked. There were two Elm trees out front, casting the porch and sidewalk in shade.
There was no fence, and the backyards I could see from here were all a good three lots or so back home.
“If your yard is as big as the others, I'm not mowing it.”
The doc just smirked as the driver let her out of the car. “That shouldn't be a problem; I have a groundskeeper.”
Of course, she did; I kind of hoped he was named Willie. The driver grabbed the trunk, and I grabbed my bags. We walked up a sidewalk so clean it had to have been power-washed recently.
The doc unlocked the door and turned off the alarm system. Then she turned off the secondary alarm system that was hidden behind the basement door. I memorized the codes, since she didn't seem too intent on hiding them from me, and walked left into the living room.
The floor was dark stained hardwood, with a large tan throw rug bearing some design I was willing to bet was Indian on it. The television had to be fifty inches and was mostly flat. There was a Blu-ray player under it, nestled in between the surround sound system that probably cost more than my last house.
The fireplace mantle held knickknacks of crystal and gold, and I was willing to bet the gold was real. Evidently, military research paid better than I knew; I was in the wrong racket.
The kitchen was like a cooking show set, with all the pots and pans hanging on a rack over the polished granite countertop, and a stove and a fridge and dishwasher that matched, in light off whites contrasted by dark trim.
The hall was as almost as big as my mobile home, with room for maybe three people to fit side by side, and carpeted its entire length. It led to an L shaped staircase that had no less than six doors; two on the left, and four on the right. All were good hardwood, with latch locks.
The first on the left was a bathroom that was large enough to use as a bedroom, even with the large claw-footed tub and sink. Both cast iron unless I missed my guess. The fixtures above them were more modern, all slick plastic and multi-featured.
There was no vanity, just the sink anchored to the wall, but there was a type of armoire that held the washcloths and towels and other crap. It even had a first aid kit and over most common over the counter meds.
“Done snooping?” The doc asked from behind me. Of course, her house, so she knew where all the creaks were, and how to avoid them.
“Not even close.”
The next room was a master bedroom, done in dark pastels. The bed was a king sized that was smothered in comforters and had an old looking quilt at its foot. There was a walk-in closet to the right with those little folding doors, and an armoire to the left, two nightstands on either side of the bed, and room for it all. There was also a door off to the left past the armoire, which was probably a bathroom.
“My room.” The doc said.
I shut the door. If there were any drawers in the house I didn't want to go through, these were it.
“The other rooms are all empty, pick whichever one you want, and I'll get it furnished as soon as possible. Unfortunately, that might take awhile, and you'll have to sleep on the couch until then. The bathroom here is yours, I'll be using my own, and the public at large will use the downstairs one. I'm going to go make some coffee.”
She strode off but stopped before she got all the way down the stairs. “Oh, I know this is kind of an imposition, but I'd appreciate it if you not smoke in the house just yet. I'm going to get something that will deal with the smoke and air quality reduction, but it'll take some time to arrive. Until then we'll have to work something out.”
I opened the first door. It led to an empty and spare room, painted light blue with white trim. The floor was dusty. “I can just smoke outside, can't I?”
“Well, the neighbors and police might start to talk if a ten to twelve year old went outside and lit up, you know? Best to try and be a bit more stealthy about things. As I said, I'll think on it.”
Well, shit. What business was it of theirs? Stupid neighbors. At least I didn't feel the need right now.
“Fine, but make enough coffee for both of us.”
She laughed. “Done, although trading one drug for another doesn't work, historically.”
The second door led to a room painted poo brown; I was instantly reminded of home. All of the no; I closed that door in a hurry.
“Don't care. Drugs are bad until you need 'em.”
The third door led to a large dusty room, this one painted white. It was dusty too, and there were faint smears of dirt (at least I hoped it was just dirt) on the walls.
It didn't stink, so it was probably just dirt. The windows were in good repair, and sealed well; the view was into the backyard, which was as big as I expected and complete with a small gentle sloped hill with a slightly stunted apple tree topping it.
There was also a concrete pool in the backyard, just beyond the patio. And beyond that, a small swing and slide set made of aged wood and metal that was probably just beginning to rust around the edges. I hadn't seen any evidence of the doc having kids.
The last door opened into a sort of guest room, complete with bed and nightstand. The closet was mostly empty but held two suits, both for men. Both for the same man, judging from the sizes. There were no other personal items in the room. The room was wallpapered, one of those awful abstract design wallpapers that were all the rage before I was born, in tans and browns that matched the furniture, at least when one discounted the water stains and discoloration. There was less dust to stir around here.
With no places left to explore, I headed downstairs.
The doc was waiting on me, a mug of coffee already poured and sitting steaming across from her as she nursed her own. It annoyed me that my feet wouldn't touch the ground all the way when I sat in the chair.
The coffee was a little sweet, and I tasted cream in it. I normally took it black.
“So, what about the last room?”
“Oh, that's a guest bedroom. It also doubles as a room for the security detail, when such a detail is deemed appropriate.”
I took another, longer sip of coffee. That seemed to follow, but it didn't really solve the mystery. “Yeah, I can sort of see that from the hitman suits in the closet, but why can't I just use that room until we get another one set up? Sleep in that bed?”
The doc smirked. “Trust me, you don't actually want to sleep in that bed; the room is the draftiest one in the house, and my couch is much more comfortable.”
So she was hiding something, without trying to hide something.
The doc slid a plate of Oreo's across the table; I took one and nibbled. Seemed like they could use some milk, but I wasn't sure I trusted her fridge – she seemed the type to spend long hours away from home.
My brain lurched, coiled and restless.
“So anyway, the Television gets satellite, over a hundred channels, and the house is wired for internet, with the computer in the den. We can get you a laptop, and you'll probably need a new phone... which room did you say you picked, again?”
“I didn't, but the second door.”
“Alright. I'm not a fan of putting another television in this old house, but I've no problem with movies upstairs and the like. If you eat anywhere but the kitchen, please make sure to clean it up; the area has a bit of a mouse problem, and I don't want them back.”
“Got it.”
“Loud music is a problem, hm, maybe we should install some soundproofing, oh and stay out of the basement.”
Of course. “What's in the basement, oh mad scientist?”
“Just my real office, and a bit of a lab. There is a secondary door with a code lock, but I'm fairly sure if you want to you can get in. Just be aware that you aren't cleared to see anything in there, and violating this rule will be the mother of all bad ideas.”
All that delivered in the same voice she used when talking about her couch, as if she didn't care less.
“So, why are you doing this, doc? Why take me in at all? I mean, what's in it for you?”
She grinned. “Took you long enough. I'll tell you the absolute truth; I intend to study you. Completely non-invasive of course, but your DNA may hold the key to understanding several of the mysteries of mutation science currently has. You literally adapt somehow to circumstance or threats and do it without ingesting other DNA or any known delivery method. You switch rapidly with no hint of GSD, at least so far, and seem to know exactly what to do with your power as soon as it changes; for the rest of us even that basic level of mastery can take years.”
Well, the doc was telling the truth as she saw it; I believed her. I just KNEW she was. She leaned back and continued. “Knowing how you do what you do can help the rest of us understand how we do what we do. But there is another reason; you seem to suffer from an enhanced form of aggression, and studying that may lead to common genetic links in mutant psychological disorders.”
I didn't feel like my aggression was enhanced. Was it? I mean, I didn't go out of my way looking for faces to break; they just popped up in front of me, like moronic whack-a-moles. “I don't think I'm more aggressive than normal for humanity.”
The doc bobbed her head, once, decisively. “That may be true, I don't have any evidence of that yet. If it isn't true, then that still might give me some ideas on where to look,” She reached across and grabbed my hands. “I've been a researcher for years, and my instincts are telling me you're a missing link; someone that can prove or disprove theories scientists have been posing on the nature of mutation and even biology in general. That makes you very important, and of course, I want a crack at you first.”
She made a point of meeting my eyes. “However, beyond all that... well I kind of like you, and I think we could be friends if the person I've seen so far is who you are. I'll even give up my swinging bachelorette lifestyle to make sure you don't go into the foster system.”
Well, I'd wanted honest. The mix of self-interest and goals she wanted me for was as honest as it got. “Good enough. You keep being that honest with me, and we'll have no problems.”
That... came out wrong. But still, the Doc smiled as if I'd given her a declaration of true love, and stood up.
“And on that note, I'm going to hit the hay. I'm still jet-lagged, and your appointment at Whateley just came through – for tomorrow. Which means we are going to need to fly again in order to make it.” The doc trailed off a bit, muttering something about names I didn't recognize. None of it sounded very flattering.
I finished off my coffee; I wasn't really feeling tired, but I'd need to sleep too if we were commuting like that again. I'd also need more cigarettes.
The doc paused at the door. “Oh, there is something else you should know, another reason why I took you in and the foster system is a bad idea.”
There it was, the other shoe. Or was that the third shoe? “Yeah?”
“Omega Man took an interest in you after your fight. He all but commanded us to 'take good care of you' in his own words. So the current theory is, he will be watching. So leaving you in the foster system could lead to... unpleasantness. So could making you disappear in a testing facility.” She spread her hands. “Welcome to the compromise.”
Well, that was more than a little dangerous. “Can he find you?”
Doc grinned again. “Oh my yes. We want him to see we are treating you well after all, otherwise what would be the point? Until you're ready for round two it's best to make sure he has no complaints. Anyway, I'm off to bed. Try not to break anything!”
And she vanished up the stairs while I was still working around that. The government was actually afraid of the guy? They needed me to take him out? I mean, I was willing for round two, but I wasn't ready yet; until I figured out what new power this form held until I got the voice to respond to me, I wasn't going to be winning anything.
But maybe soon.
How was I supposed to sleep knowing a dude who could irradiate cities could be watching me?
The next morning saw me in a chopper, chewing on a half-frozen pop-tart in one hand while trying to light a cancer stick in the other; it was too bad the thing was one of those open door military kind.
Across from me, Doc DeStayne looked on with amusement and saluted me with her coffee. It would be easy to light up from her seat, but no, I had to be buckled in facing the front for some reason. For some reason, in the middle of the night, she had changed her mind about us going to Whateley, setting up some sort of emergency meeting and even calling in the military for a ride. She had more pull than most doctors, that was for sure.
"You okay, Vicky?" Stupid helmets and their built-in mics. I liked her better quiet.
"Not a morning person. And call me Vicky again and die some," Why even bother asking me my opinion if you're going to ignore it?
"Well, at least you won't kill me all the way. Fine, Vic then. Or Victoria, since the male form of your name will raise questions in public."
"Doc, you got a P.H.D. in rubbing things in or what?"
"Of course not, that's simply a hobby," was her reply. a pretty good one, I admit.
Of course, I hadn't had enough coffee or nicotine for the snark. The doc had hustled me into clothes and out the door so fast I couldn't snag a cup, so she was already on thin ice.
"How long is this flight, anyway?" I already knew she wouldn't tell me where we were going.
"It won't be long; a few hours." The Doc answered.
A little more vague than I'd have liked, but the best I'd get probably. This place was pretty hush-hush for a school, even a rumored mutant school. Whatever, it wasn't something I needed to worry about. Somehow I had to figure out how to make people like me, and that was more than enough; I wasn't the most likable fellow in the world.
The ride itself was nice, zooming low over forests and farms, going up to go through or around cities and towns, a few of which I might have recognized, doing a little dance no doubt required by the FAA or whoever was in charge of the not so friendly skies now.
It was kind of like how I'd heard flying over Nam described, come to think of it. I could see the appeal now; too bad my power wasn't flying.
Then again, if it had been, I'd be dead or a coward - which was pretty much the same thing. Nah, it was too soon to give my actual power a pass; maybe not ever. Or maybe I would once I understood just what the hell it was. A voice that tells me how to fight, and more. The little girl thing was beyond weird, and I'm not sure I wanted it to make sense.
I also wasn't sure how this school would react once I figured out how to change back since I wasn't really school age. The doc had said it wasn't a college or trade school, and that meant I was a bit old.
There was only so much I could look around and thinks about things, and I still couldn't light a cigarette. so I did the next best thing and went back to sleep. It took more effort than I thought, and I had to settle for a light doze that the Doc got more and more pissed off about; a nice bonus.
The change in pitch as we landed snapped me out of it; we were setting down at a small airfield in the middle of nowhere, USA. Nowhere USA had a lot of trees and one thin dirt track that looked way too uneven for the limo that seemed to be waiting for us. At least it was a small limo, minus the little flags and stuff the one yesterday had; nothing like not attracting attention.
I unbuckled and ducked down to leave the chopper before I realizing how stupid I looked; I was probably the last one that needed to duck to leave this bird. Just looking at the doc's grin as she crouched next to me drove that home.
"Just shut it," I told her, even though she couldn't hear me with the helmet off. Her grin widened.
The humorless statue of a guy in military fatigues threw my new bag at me; I plucked it out of the air and gave him a wave; I'd forget that pos yet. I didn't understand why I needed all this crap anyway, I mean, the jeans had pockets, why couldn't I just use those? I hated not having my hands free.
The Doc wiggled her purse at me as I caught up, but didn't say anything, which was good for her. I finally got the chance to light up once the chopper was far enough up, and I wasted no time. I blew smoke rings after it. It was kind of hard since my mouth was smaller.
The Doc golf clapped. "Now, get in the car please."
"One minute," I told her. "It's been all morning, and I know you don't want me blowing smoke in your car. So just be patient."
She fumed a little as her heels cooled, but I couldn't really care less. Maybe next time she'd wake me up with a bit more time to get ready.
She'd given up the heel tapping in favor of waiting out of the dust by the time I finished my last drag; I stubbed the butt out and pocketed it before joining her; this looked like the kind of place people tried to take care of, which meant I didn't want to be the one screwing it up.
There was a mini-fridge, and the good doctor had already grabbed a tea; I opened it up and snagged a water.
It was ice cold and went down easy, and tasted funny.
"It's filtered, bottled water, no fun little additives like you find in most small town water supplies," the doc told me.
I placed the empty in the cup holder. "That's great but I didn't ask."
The Doc grinned again. "No, but the little face you made was adorable. Pretty easy to deduce the cause."
Whatever.
The drive over the river and through the woods wasn't a long one, but there was no house at the end. Instead, after making our way to a small paved road, the driver stopped us in front of some big honking gates. I could feel something was off, here. It was a zing in the air, and a metal taste on the tongue. It started out faint, but got worse in a hurry once the guard checked our papers and let us pass.
As soon as we hit the parking lot, my gut tightened and the voice went from a barely heard whisper to a near shout.
There were kids all around me, and every single one of them had a story. A story I didn't need to see to hear, it seemed. Shut up, voice - just shut up. You'll get no blood today.
"You alright?" The Doc asked, leaning down at me, blotting out the sun.
"Just peachy. Let's do this."
The Doc stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. "No, this is important - tell me."
Fine. "The voice just cranked up to eleven, all at once. There are people here, I know they are kids and know how strong they are, and what they can do. I know what they can do, and I know how to beat them.. and it's a lot to take in, all at once."
The Doc rose back up, blocking my sun, a finger to her lips. "Hm, something to do with the wards, perhaps? You didn't sense it before now?"
What wards? Did she mean actual magical wards? Wait, she did. some poor bastard nearby was an actual mage; I guess you really did learn something new every day, I thought that all the magic talk was just so much BS.
"No, I just sensed you."
"How many do you sense now?" the doc asked, already turning away.
My next word made her stop. "Hundreds, I think."
She 'hmm'd again, looking back at me. Her voice was so uninterested it had to be practiced. "Impressive range and it explains a few things. Tell me, can you identify which is which? Which person has what powers?"
"Not from here, I can't see them. I just sort of know where they are."
"And what's this voice of yours telling you to do?"
I lit up, a bit to piss off the doc, but mainly to take the edge off. "Beat them, mostly. It's telling me how to bust heads. Not that I need any advice on that or anything."
The Doc leaned down again. "Of course not. Got it under control?"
I nodded. I did, at least for now. In the near future, who could say?
My hand was grabbed, and the Doc started dragging me. "Come along then."
Ten steps in, I realized this was a mistake; there were even more kids here than I thought. How big was this school? I was expecting something smaller. We got within sight range, and yes, these were teens. Teens that were looking at the Doc and I as if we were the odd ones. I took another drag, and that got noticed too. Whatever, they could mind their own business.
There were even students under us. And those kids in that building there... wow. Poor bastards, their powers screwed them over. Was that one a... werewolf? Weird.
The Doc dragged me into a building I assumed held the offices just as I made the rent a cop detail following us at a distance while trying hard not to appear to be following us.
Once we were inside, the Doc let go of my hand. I took advantage of that by lighting another cancer stick, ignoring the no smoking signs. The stern gazes and dislike was the easier thing to deal with. Sweet crap, even some of the adults around here had powers!
We set off down the hall; the Doc seemed to know where to go. Where to go turned out to be past a hot blonde that all but screamed judgment with the way she was looking down at me. She looked maybe a bit young to be this "Ms. Hartford, assistant Headmistress." the name tag on her desk declared her to be.Our eyes met, and something in my head stirred; I just knew, that I didn't need to do anything special to take her.
Then she looked from me to the Doc, and her sour expression got worse if anything. The Doc just grinned back wider.
"Doctor DeStayne," frost could have gathered on the words.
"Ms. Hartford. Is Mrs. Carson in?"
"Of course she is - the general in your pocket was most insistent."
Arm twisting; I knew it had happened, but this lady seemed to take it personally.
"Well, we are five minutes early - so..."
"Just... go right in. Please." Wow, she was actually grinding her teeth. I wonder what the history between these two was.
"There is no smoking in this building."
I sucked in the remains of my current cigarette - and blew out into the hot blonde's face. She hadn't really given me much cause to like her. To her credit, she took it. "Charming. Victoria, was it?"
Oh, she knew. Or suspected, at least. "Yeah."
"Enjoy your visit." That wasn't a smile - too many teeth showing.
The Doc made a grab for my hand, but I dodged her and opened the door to the office we were clearly going in.
Woof. Inside the office was something I'd been feeling in my skull, but opening the door made the feeling slap me in the face; power, and a lot of it. Experience, and a lot of it. She didn't look that much older than her blonde friend outside, and she looked about as hot, but I knew she was older... much older than she appeared. She was tired and strong. What was the word?
Unyielding, that was it.
"Doctor DeStayne, a pleasure to see you again." Her name tag thing read 'Mrs. Carson'. Mrs/ Carson did not sound as if it was a pleasure to see the Doc again, but she did at least hide it better.
The Doc, for her part, finally wiped the grin off her face and approached, going right past me and holding out a hand. "Mrs. Carson, so good to see you again."
Mrs. Carson turned to me again, and again something flopped in my head as our eyes met. I couldn't really stop the wince. "And you must be Victoria Smith. I'm pleased to meet you, but wish it was under better circumstances."
"Thanks. Nice to meet you too." She had a firm grip; it wasn't crushing, but she wasn't going easy on me either. Yeah, she knew too. I guess it made sense, seeing as how she was the one clearly in charge here; and not the expected military puppet.
It would save time, which was good. It was very good, but probably not good enough. I made sure the door was shut.
"Take a seat," Mrs. Carson said. "Would you like anything? Coffee, tea, water... "
"No, thanks." The Doc and I both chorused.
Then I thought better of it. "Got an ashtray?"
I got a gimlet stare in return. "This is a non-smoking establishment."
Yeah, no. "Right, I get that. But trust me, you're going to want to let me smoke while I'm here; it takes the edge off."
"The edge?" she asked me.
"I assume you know at least a little of what they say I can do. Well, it's kind of like a... voice, and a pressure."
She kept staring at me for a minute before opening a drawer and sliding a battered ashtray across her desk at me.
"So what does this voice tell you, Victoria?"
Damn it that wasn't my name. I lit up and collected my thoughts in the smoke. "I don't know how to sugarcoat this, so I won't/ It tells me how to beat you. All of you - everyone here. It tells me things about you, strengths, weaknesses, what you can do, what you won't think to do... it's not really a voice either, but that's the only way I can describe it. It's more like...."
I groped for the word, and it came. "It's like instinct."
More staring from across the desk. "I see. Doctor DeStayne stated you were like another mutant of some renown; a powers copier."
Then the Doc lied. She had to know it wasn't like that. "It ain't that simple. Like right now, the voice or thing or whatever it is has told me at least 6 ways that I can beat you if we throw down. Nothing certain, but if we go at it. I can pick the powers to best do the job, and they ain't the same, from plan to plan. My thing is taking all your skill, power, and experience into account and coming up with ways to win, and it does that for everybody.
"I see. And this pressure you mentioned - you feel compelled to act on the information your power provides, don't you?"
It felt good to tell the truth, even if I was screwing myself doing it. "Kind of. It's more that being around people who I know can take me in a fight makes me twitchy. The cigs help me relax that some."
"And how many people like that can you feel?"
"All of them, I think. Its hard to say, but there are hundreds of powered people here; some of them are too weak, but some are pretty strong. Maybe even stronger than you."
Mrs. Carson tried to stare me down again. "I see. I do not think Whateley would be a good fit for you, for a variety of reasons. One, we are a high school; neither your apparent age or your biological age are catered to here."
Oh yeah, she knew.
"Second, making allowances for you would mean making allowances for schoolkids based on flimsy logic; we could make a case for your habit being medical, but there will always be some kids who will object and cause problems. I'm not inclined to allow you that crutch in any case, which leads to my third problem, and perhaps the worst."
Well, at least she was admitting it was her.
"The third problem is we don't have and can't spare the facilities and personnel to give you the counseling you need. You're a walking time bomb, Miss Smith, and I don't want you exploding near my students."
Harsh, but fair. I wasn't a kid, and wouldn't fit in here. Beating up a bunch of stupid kids didn't appeal to me either.
The Doc opened her mouth. "That last issue of yours is a pure fabrication; you have Bellows."
"Dr. Bellows is good, but against this? Her power itself seeks conflict," Mrs. Carson countered. "Can you honestly say, at this school, the worst won't happen if I say yes?"
The Doc was silent... but her grin was back. "I can't and you know it. Can you loan us Bellows then, at least?"
"That would be up to Dr. Bellows. I have no problem with him working with Miss Smith, but any patients he takes would be in addition to his work here. You may ask him of course, but I think it best for all parties involved if Miss Smith be escorted off the property as soon as possible to avoid any unpleasantness."
I wanted to object, but I really couldn't. Something could happen while I was here; it wasn't safe for me to be here, for me or the kids.
"Can I just ask him? He's here, right?" Way to sound desperate, Doc.
"No. He's currently busy with patients, and I've already granted you the fair hearing my investors demanded. Please leave."
I was standing up before she finished, but the Doc wasn't quite convinced. "Just five more minutes, Liz. Vic, wait for me outside a bit, and try not to get into trouble?"
Everyone thinking the worst of me was beginning to get old; I had it together, mostly. Mrs. Carson's eyes narrowed and her lips tightened.
"Fine," I stubbed my cigarette out and closed the door. "No hard feelings, Ma'am."
......
Emilia turned to her former principal, unable to hide her glee anymore. "I won this round, you know."
"I've no idea what you mean," Elizabeth Carson replied, looking as if she were sucking on a bucket of lemons.
"Victor needed access to mutants in order to grow. He could only manage to use powers he has been exposed to; a weakness of what I'm calling 'adaptive mimicry'. No power exposure, no options."
"I knew I shouldn't have allowed you on the grounds," Carson said, voice dripping frost. "So now what, you enroll him in the military option?"
Emilia shrugged, "If he wants it. He's already turned down the military once. But I don't have the resources you do Liz, and I had to protect him somehow. Remember that when you're judging me later. The Omega man isn't someone just anyone can take on after all, and Victor is right in his crosshairs."
"You have a point. But it's time for you to leave."
"See you at the next donor's drive Liz."
"Not if I see you first."
Emilia smiled. "Petty; I like it."
Emilia left with a jaunty extra swing in her step; before the door closed Elizabeth heard her tell her new charge to "Put that down, we're leaving." She counted a full five minutes to the second, a young Charlie Chaplin phased into existence by her side.
"Well?"
"Running all that interference gave me a headache, but I think Miss Smith will be pleased by the results, and I know I'll be happy not to share my tank with her. The things crowded enough already."
Mrs. Carson raised an eyebrow. "That bad? Truly?"
"I had to mask several of our stronger students, or the poor thing would have pinged off them. I THINK the 'if you can't beat them, join them' aspect - and yes, that's a definite aspect of her power - I think it only works inside of a fight, but some of us present might be strong enough to trigger the response anyway. I don't think it's worth the risk, so I spoofed her. She likely did whatever it was she does to get copies of our power, but neither she nor her power realized what I was doing."
The projection bowed, and waddled a little, before staring off into space... in the direction of Hawthorne. "Incidentally, she really is wound as tight as she said she is. I could feel the struggle, but she's holding it like a champ. If I can feel the stress, even when not looking for it, it's strong. She's clearly not in full control."
"I'll talk to Bellows, perhaps we can arrange a deal with ARC. Miss Smith will be close enough if she can be convinced she needs the help."
"You knew somehow."
"I suspected," Elizabeth Carson countered. "The incident in Texas was more public than Miss DeStayne was aware of. Omega Man is just dangerous enough to pose a major threat."
"Who is Omega Man, anyway? He isn't listed in any file I have, even the black ones."
"He wouldn't be. He's a ghost, and an old one. He was iced before you were born. He was unusually skilled at going underground, and it seems he might have kept that knack to present day."
Charlie Chaplin shuddered. "And Smith looks like that? Ewwwwwww."
"Quite."
Charlie Chaplin tipped his hat. "Good luck to her then. Perhaps we can arrange something once Smith gets control. What about DeStayne?"
Elizabeth smiled. "Let her think she's gotten one over on us - on me."
"So she will be more likely to grant concessions in the future when we bring it up? I like the way you think. Also, Elvis has left the building, and I can finally relax."
Charlie Chaplin vanished.
Elizabeth Carson reached down into her desk for the small bottle of bourbon kept within. She offered a silent toast to the young man, a plea for luck - and then went back to wrestling with the budget figures for the quarter.
I was proud that I could kick ass with my small stature; Roger was really the only one better than me at anything I chose to actually focus on, much to my chagrin. especially when, as now, most of our generation was watching Roger smear me into the figurative dirt.
Nagrij
I looked across the 'field',which was really a large indoor space covered in mats, noticing the clock was winding down. I looked back, and had to slow to wait for the ball. Three steps at half speed later it came and I snagged it from the air, vaulting over Eric, who seemed to forget I could jump and had thus went low.
A little too low; He was trying to take out my knees.
Home free and nothing but daylight, as my grandfather might have said; an open field and no defenders. Winning touchdown well in hand I sprinted for the other side to make a statement.
Somehow however, Roger caught up to me.
Slower than I was, much larger than I was (let's face it, everyone was larger than I was, so no surprise there) he nonetheless took the optimum angle to from across the field. Likely before I was even halfway through my route he had deduced where I'd be.
He crossed my peripheral vision at the 12 yard line though (why were they even called yard lines anyway?) and came in for the tackle. I didn't waste time, but cut into him and low...very low. One knee was almost scraping a mat low.
That knee actually did hit the mat as Roger sailed over me, somehow managing to hold on at the last second as I spread out
to tip the ball over the goal.
Due to the extra weight and drag however, as well as my small size...I fell one yard short.
And then the structured exercise period was over, and our teams had tied...again.
"Damn mouse, good moves. you almost had me."
He got up, taking his helmet off and revealing the face that caused all the ladies to swoon...some of them literally old
enough to be his mother, if the rumors were true.
"I did have you, till you sat on me."
I smiled to take the sting out of my words, removing my own helmet. Which revealed my own less than magnificent visage. Everything that roger was physically, I was not. Not that I really cared...much.
I was proud that I could kick ass with my small stature; Roger was really the only one better than me at anything I chose to actually focus on, much to my chagrin. especially when, as now, most of our generation was watching Roger smear me into
the figurative dirt.
Of course the vapid cow Lissa was there, batting her eyes at him as usual with the rest of her clique. The supposed best looking
of our generation, with her hench women Carla and Milla.
I didn't really see it of course; sure she was pleasant to look at, but I couldn't help remembering that she was supposed to be our chief botanist and manager of the garden...and only a few months ago she had poisoned half our tomatoes with a stupid, elementary mistake because she was too busy staring at Roger.
You just cannot do something like that on a generational ship. A simple mistake can spell death.
"You're glaring at her again."
"She should be exercising, not sitting on her butt staring at you."
"You can't be working all the time mouse, I keep telling you. You need to relax."
I grinned then gave in to the old joke between us, screaming out at the top of my lungs:
"I AM RELAXED!"
He grinned and made a show of sticking a finger in his ear as we walked to the showers.
"Not everyone has to work as hard as you. You'll never make captain if you can't take personalities into consideration."
"She spends all her time staring at you, you lady killer...which means she barely works at all. As my dad would say, you pull your weight or you get off."
"Well she doesn't have that much weight to pull."
"About ten kilos more than you might think; I've had to re-calibrate her showers' grav plating, I know."
"No way!"
OK so it might have been from her mom or dad using the shower instead of her; who could really say? I can be petty! I'm allowed
too, darn it!
"Well;' Rog said starting up his sonic shower, 'she carries it well; all I'm going to say."
"Can't really argue that."
I started up my own shower, thinking they were kind of made for each other. One was the tall blonde just coming into the hourglass shape her mother already possessed, ripening with a speed unmatched by any other child currently on the ship. She looked sort of like a few of those actresses playing Juliet in the old movies we were all but forced to watch on movie night...and acted like her too, or as much of that look and act as she could successfully carry off. (Not much in my opinion, though she got snooty down to a T.)
The other a perpetually laughing dark haired youth beginning to fill out into a bluff bear of a man. At not quite fifteen and already over average size, with muscle to match. He was the knight, the football hero, the baseball star....the Romeo. He could and did carry it off successfully, without even trying.
Me? I was one part goofy sidekick, one part psychotic action hero. My skin was the color of light chocolate, revealing either an African or middle eastern heritage. (my father said Israeli, which I was inclined to believe.) My eyes were a color my mom referred to as hazel, and said came from my gypsy heritage. (Her side of the family.)
My features were best described as small and large. Small body, small nose, small ears, small hands, small feet. I couldn't seem to pack much muscle on either, though I had the agility of a monkey, and the speed of a cheetah...or so my mom said.
My largeness came solely from my eyes and lips, both features I was a bit embarrassed about. All in all I looked pretty stupid, though mom said that before the ships my look was considered cute by women...grandmother called it "bisho" something. Of course she also said I had to be taller to carry the look off. I was the shortest child of our generation, by 2 cm.
Either way didn't help me now of course. The end result was that I looked pretty goofy, an awkward mix that by general agreement was just not considered attractive. My size did however make me perfect for engineering work, as I was one of very few that could fit in the various ducts and tubes that an engineer needed to access. Add to that my natural intelligence, granted by genetics. The sole reason my grandparents were included on this ship at all, and I was almost a natural to be voted in as chief engineer.
Of course I was aiming higher...I was the one other person in striking distance for captain, being the only other child in the running for the old man's hat, even if I was second on the list to Roger. I didn't see any reason why I shouldn't make as good a captain as Roger in any case, and I knew I had a few supporters by the straw poll that had been run a few months ago. Unofficially of course.
Our current captain, my father, had led Ark 14 (named the Magellan after some explorer or other...history wasn't really my strongest subject.) for 30 years give or take a few months, and was due to step down along with his entire successful generation and go into cryo with our grandparents, the last generation to actually see earth with their own eyes.
Why would a successful captain and parent leave his ship in the hands of a bunch of kids? Even his own kids?
Simple answer really, resources. The Magellan was a generational ship, with plenty of space, manufacturing facilities, and raw materials stocked. But none of it was infinite, and we needed a large population if we were to colonize. Food especially needed space to grow, and a certain amount of resources to be provided. Growing food for 150 people would stress the ship's capabilities beyond breaking.
Sixty was as good as we could ever manage, so of course we planned for fifty. Any extra we vacuum packed (plenty of vacuum in space) and stored with the samples and cryo'd animals we'd brought from earth. Sooner or later, it would get used.
So all of us were trained early, much as the current crew was. We started at nine however, a bit earlier than the fifteen my parents started at. We also got cross trained in as many jobs as we could handle, to avoid any type of tragedy caused by the loss of one of us.
The mining accident a few years ago had driven the point home for the adults. Space is a dangerous place, even with the best technology. Some children however, refused to get the point.
Dressed and on my way out, my eyes found Lissa still wandering in our designated gym...she was perhaps six minutes from being late to her station, and waiting for Roger to come out of the sonic showers. I shrugged and picked up my own pace; engineering station 3 was nearly across the ship, I was cutting it close myself, and I wasn't captain yet.
Even with my access tube shortcuts it took my 5 minutes and 24 seconds to reach station number 3. I popped the hatch to stare up and into the raw boned and ruddy face of the man I knew only as Cargie. I knew it wasn't his real name of course, but my dad wouldn't tell me his real name no matter how I asked. He was our current chief engineer, and as such my boss of the last year.
"To be fair son, you're late. I expected you ten seconds ago!"
"Fashionably late as always, which is to say early by 20 plus seconds. So what's on the work order today?"
He made a show of staring at the messy clipboard in his hand; no doubt he already knew what it said by heart.
"Investigate strange rattle in hallway 1-A; quote: "It sounds like a gremlin is scraping nails on a chalkboard again."
"Again? Isn't that the hall we replaced the fan cowling on last week?"
"Aye son it is indeed. Which is where we will be going, so I can show you something I forgot to check."
I raised my eyebrow as we suited up in coveralls and grabbed our tools. Maintaining a proper raised eyebrow for that long was a talent, but Cargie wasn't impressed by it anymore.
"Oh it's nothing life threatening if I'm right, just a wealth of experience over that turbo charged noggin of yours. You
missed it too after all."
We walked down the A hall, taking the first elevator needed to the correct floor. As soon as we stepped out of it we could hear the scraping...it was faint, but could be clearly heard over the soft rushing of air.
"Is that the vent fan? It is, isn't it?"
Cargie wouldn't speak though, unscrewing the ventilation shaft grate and motioning me to enter. I did so, eyebrows raised again, and immediately went to the fan we had worked on last week. The cowling guarding the blades was brand new, but had slipped a bit somehow, and the fan blades were making the most awful racket scraping against the cowling itself. the fan motor itself smelled a bit hot, but luckily the drag hadn't burned it out.
I removed the cowling and took it back out to Cargie, where he pointed to the screw holes, which looked a bit off to me.
"Sometimes the parts we order come back manufactured a mite off specifications, or too soft, or with other minor flaws. So then we replace the parts, and as in this case, the shifting of the motor itself causes the flaws to become an issue. How would you solve this?"
I thought for a moment, testing the side of the cowling with my thumbnail, then with one of the screws used to secure it.
"Well it seems to be the right metal, or near enough. The holes seem to be slightly elongated. So...I think I'd putty it and see if that doesn't solve the problem. Oh and I'd give the motor an automated break and a good oiling; it's a bit hot in there."
"Good son, good. We'll make a proper engineer of you yet. Go to it."
"There is one other thing I'd do."
"And what's that son?"
"Go check on the manufacturing plant...machine number 37 according to the bar code, it obviously has some flaw."
He stared at me aghast.
"Damn son, that's a right proper job! You want to be on duty all night?"
"If we have to. I'd really hate to depend on machine 37 to machine the proper part or tool at a crucial time and have it
fail to deliver."
He heaved a large sigh.
"Well, you're not wrong....it's just that some of being an engineer is listening and adapting; machine 37 has been out of
true for a good twenty years, but it's never failed to deliver what it's been asked for."
He looked up into my disbelieving face.
"Seems I'll have to show you what I mean. Very well, lesson number one so quickly. To the plant we go then, you lead."
The walk to the plant took a good twenty minutes, with only our boots clacking on the deck plating to mark the silence. The machines that manufactured a large amount of our various goods were located in the center of the ship, in the area of smallest spin and therefore weakest gravity.
Such an area was the worst for human habitation as extended low gravity exposure cause health problems. So of course this was the best place to store heavy metals, raw materials, and the large machinery used in manufacture. Only issue was you needed to tether or tie such items, as they might drift and ruin a bulkhead. That had happened once already, so I was told.
"Hey mouse."
"Hey Claire."
Claire was a real beauty, not a fake like Lissa. Soft brown hair, average height among our generation, a medium bordering on slight build, Claire's mom was the quartermaster, the keeper of all necessities of life, as well as our few luxury items. Some positions seemed to be hereditary, as Claire seemed a natural at her mom's post. She had a head for figures, and a no nonsense attitude I admired. She also dressed down, not wasting her various ration allotments on make up and impractical clothes.
"So what's up?"
"Just here to check a machine; It's a bit off kilter."
She perked up suddenly.
"Oh? which one?"
"Machine 37; the small parts fabricator."
She quickly returned to her normal bored look, and her book. Which had a half naked man on it's cover. I pretended not to notice.
"Oh that one. It's working fine."
"no it isn't, it's manufacturing tolerances are off. Likely a programming bug."
"Working fine, but suit yourself, I'll buzz you in. Mom! We got customers, hope you're ready!"
She smiled at me from the intercom as I blinked at the outburst. Her mother, one Ruth responded in kind.
"Put the smut down and let them in already!"
Cargie and I ignored the shade of pink Claire turned as the door opened; it was just common sense. Ruth herself bustled to the door to greet us, taking great strides as the low gravity beyond allowed. She was an older copy of Claire, looks showing no hint of fading. My father had dated her, he once told me. According to lore, she had been a real firecracker when young, almost the polar opposite of her daughter.
"Cargie and mouse! To what do I owe this break in monotony?"
Claire coughed and spoke up.
"They are here to check machine 37."
"Ahh...that time is it? Alright well according to regs I have to escort you...so let's go."
The trip to the machine took another 4 minutes, with us flying through the halls as gravity became weaker. Soon enough we reach berth 37, perched like all the others, on the outer reached of the core, surrounding the main drive shaft and fuel cells. there was of course, 50 meters of space between the shaft and anything else save the brackets, to help reduce the potential for mayhem in case of a malfunction or worst case, an explosion.
The outer controls of the fabricator were a mess; literally a jury rigged splicing of wires taped together with some sort of black adhesive. My eyebrow came up again.
"It's called electrical tape son, an early form of the nanite paste we now use. It was made from a form of plastic."
"Well, looks stupid. Who did this patch job? Looks sophomoric."
"I did."
"OK I'll bite, why?"
"Make 5 cowlings, of the type we just fixed."
I tried to stare him down, and he didn't budge. Ruth knew something too, but was remaining silent. So I ran off the parts, paying special attention to the window that allowed one to watch the process. The melted metal, glowing a nice shade of red, was poured into a specific mold, which was then spun at high speeds to cool it; we avoided use of liquids, as they could crack the part itself.
I made four more in succession, making sure to note the specifications listed on the console, as well as the process. Once they were complete and cool I took all five out and looked. there had been slight flaws in the holes for screws, obviously caused by the metal grade, which was too base to be used in refined work. Perhaps as high as 2% less steel involved in the process? An easy thing to tell when you saw the color the metal took when hot.
The actual process did not meet the requirements listed in the specs, the metal mixture was too debased. On purpose.
"Why? this could lead to serious faults if used for engine housings, pistons, or..."
"We know son, we know. but we're spacers. We don't always have access to the best of materials, and EVA is dangerous. You have to choose your battles lad, and many times the best you can do is...make do."
"Make do?"
"Yep, much of what we do as engineers is making the best of a bad situation. How long do you think that fan cowling we just fixed will last?"
"Well with the nanite paste holding it to the screws, some time...years?"
"Decades my boy, decades. The first one I replaced that way, at the request of my father, our first engineer...well it's still there. Hall C3, at junction 4, and you'd never know."
"OK I get that, but why this clumsy bypass? and why only this machine?"
"Because this machine is classified as nonessential to the functioning of the ship; it's not required. As to why that matters, well the oddball is why."
the oddball was a gift; each Ark had one, a blending of alien and human technology which oversaw many of the more difficult functions involved in running a generational ship; the navigation, object detection, main engine core cooling, etc.
Without the oddball, none of the Arks could function, as they would need far more people (and space) to function in any capacity. And failing anything else the oddball controlled the small fleet of general purpose robots the ship could field. The oddball also manufactured the more complex nanites and treatments that were involved in prolonging our lives or treating our injuries.
No one currently awake truly understood the inner workings of the oddball, other than that it was, well...odd. It controlled many of the manufacturing, recycling, and environmental (Air manufacture) problems that would take many of us weeks to calculate out. Most importantly, it regularly used robots to repair the outer hull from the myriad of small impacts that inevitably hit us.
Thus saving all of us from a very messy and possibly slow decompression death, multiple times a week.
"The oddball likes everything nice and neat...to specs at all times, everything to it's place boy. There is a time and place for that...but this is the real world we deal in. That would mean more dangerous EVA and more mining than we currently do. While the parts we used today won't last forever, they will last just as long as a fully standard part would.
It isn't ideal, it isn't pretty, but it works, and it works well. The oddball doesn't like us getting away with such things, but the truth is simple; you do the best you can with what you have. Never is there a bigger truth for an engineer."
I thought about it while feeding the cowlings back into machine 37 for re-smelting.
"I understand. But I'll be damned if I'll take any chances on the engine or environmental...barring a disaster of course."
"All we ask lad, all we ask. Now lets make our rounds of the popsicles, and you're done."
"What do you mean done? It's a bit early to be knocking off."
"Half day lad, we old timers are joining the popsicles soon; we put it off as long as we could, but two weeks...you lot get two weeks left to be vetted, captains orders...mine are for you to take the rest of the day off. Nothing on the docket."
"You'll call if you need help, right?"
He sighed.
"I've been doing this job mostly alone for years lad, I think I can handle one more. But yes, I'll call."
Back at the main lock, I shot through and waved to Claire.
"Just casing the joint for the big theft. you understand don't you Claire?"
"Sure, that's when you grab all the ladies underwear you can and parade through the decks wearing it while singing, right?"
"Absolutely."
She rolled her eyes as her mother appeared, giving her the thumbs up.
"Later mouse, enjoy your day."
"Later Claire, enjoy your pornographic book."
I ran before she could think of a suitable response...or shoot me. I waited for Cargie at the elevator, and breathed a sigh of relief when he appeared alone grin plastered on his face.
"Lad, you..."
I gave him my best 'who, me?' look and gestured towards the elevator.
"You surprise me sometimes lad."
"I'm all for having fun, I'm a regular barrel of laughs...as long as the job is getting done."
He shook his head, then brightened.
"Oh right lad, before I forget...we went into zero G today so what do we do?"
"Exercise later, and take our pill?"
"That's right, we take our pill."
I eyed his growing paunch for a minute as he fished out the small tablet container from around his neck.
"you left out exercise Cargie."
"Indeed I did lad; get yours out. I want to make sure you take it."
"I only forgot the one time, sheesh."
The pills were our answer to calcium and iron depletion, zero-g sickness. Humans were not meant to live in a vacuum, and long term exposure to such environments tricked the body into thinking it didn't need to build up muscle or bone, or worse, could even cannibalize it for resources. The pills were our answer for that, a cocktail of hormones, nanites, and raw chemicals designed to combat hundreds of thousands of years of outdated evolution.
Left untreated zero-g sickness shortened the lives of every human to catch it...and on this ship, that was all of us eventually, so we all had them. There were even versions designed to combat the more resistant diseases we'd brought with us from earth.
In space no one can hear you sneeze.
We rode the elevator down to B4...and there it was, another large gym like area, also padded, and lined floor to ceiling with doors, that looked for all the world like those metal shelves in morgues. Cargie had showed me a movie with those once, and excepting that ours pulled out to show a human under glass and a control panel, they looked exactly the same.
It'd be more creepy I suppose if we buried our dead.
At any rate, there were 500 shelves total; 10 generations of service personnel, each one the children of the last, till the tenth's shift was completed, after which the the shifts would circle with the 1rst crew (my grandparents) taking over for ten years, then my parents, then us again, and so on...till we all died of old age or found a suitable planet.
We laboriously checked the readouts and ran the diagnostic on each and every active cryo tube. This would be done at least once a day to each of the 92 full tubes (accidents happen....). these held our families after all.
And in two weeks, I'd be checking all 136 of them alone. My father would be in one, my mother next to him.
With the last one checked and in the green, my shift was over. I waved to Cargie and made my way to the commissary.
The commissary, or mess hall as some called it, was another large area. One part eatery (complete with kitchen, and a cook on duty) and one part place to blow off steam. Old game machines, pinball machines, even a pool table, lined the walls. This was the place to go to blow off steam, and be with ones' peers.
And speaking of ones' peers....
"Hey you two, what's up?"
I walked up to Seth and Joe, both EVA miners in training, both almost as big as Roger was. They had to be, to run all that equipment. One of the few things I wasn't good at. They were also both on my team earlier, as center and tackle respectively. They had given me the opening I needed to run. Both were kind of lazy in my opinion, but they did good work, when driven to it.
Seth answered me first. "Hey how's it going mouse? you're off early."
"Yeah Cargie let me off with good behavior."
Joe chimed in, waving his pool stick; "want to play a game?"
"Nah think I'll try that racing one in the corner again; I hear Rog topped my high score again."
"Heh, you guys need to give it up or get a room or something. It's beginning to get a little disturbing."
"I won't rest till I've beaten him at all video games, you know that Seth. I am clearly his superior, and I'll get him
to acknowledge that."
Joe chimed in again.
"Whatever man, just don't be pissed if he makes captain."
"Why? you going to vote for him then?"
"What? No man, you know you're my man for the job. While the rest of us were goofing off, you were studying. That counts in my book...along with the little modification you made to our suits."
I had designed a modification to the seals the EVA suits used when at 12, I made my first trainer EVA...I Found the type of seal currently used could actually cause the suit to kink around it, reducing oxygen flow. A known problem, but not one I knew of at the time. So I designed a sort of movable seal that allowed the tank and suit to move without reducing the airflow.
The first year, miner production had tripled. Seems not having to worry about their suits binding them up or readjusting them, allowed them to focus on actually mining, spending less time outside for better gain. Who knew?
I turned to Seth.
"Me too man, you got my vote; I happen to think you're the smartest guy on the ship. Even the adults. Problem is, you don't have the chick vote. Like, none of it."
I pondered this. Twenty seven men and 23 women among our generation meant fifty votes, but the women were a sizable block. I could either get every guy (not going to happen, I knew for a fact 8 of them supported Roger...possibly more) or those I had and most of the girls. But I was fairly sure I had at most, one Girl.
Looks counted in politics...most of the time more than substance.
"Well best I can do I suppose is lead by example and hope. Kind of depressing really."
"I hear ya man. Good luck at the game, an we'll do what we can to make your case."
I left them to their game, going to the one I currently favored. It was larger than most, being a simulator...that had a game loaded into it that allowed one to realistically race something called a 'car'...an internal combustion driven personal vehicle...at high speeds under supposedly realistic conditions.
And there, at high score, my name under it, was Roger's name, taunting me. He didn't even know this game existed a week
ago, I was sure.
I settled in and hit start, determined my name would top his before I left. I had after all, read up on the cars mentioned in this game since I played it last, and about some principle called 'drifting'...I was fairly certain this game was designed with that in mind, and determined to put my physics to the test.
(TBC)
I groaned as soon as the ball was released...I could see the arc led away from me and right to mouse. I cut as quickly as I could, leaving Joe behind and calculating my angle...there wasn't anyone between me an mouse, and Leif's throw had been poor, making mouse slow down to catch it rather than throwing it to where he'd be.
Otherwise I'd have no chance.
Eric managed to catch him after he slowed down, but made the mistake of going to low, and mouse simply hurdled him. This barely slowed him down...but it slowed him enough. I was now certain I would catch him, and I lined up.
I didn't make the same mistake, I came in aiming for his gut. But in a way I did, cause the damn monkey ducked under me. I managed to flatten myself and hold on to him, but that had been too close.
the buzzer sounded and I lept off him; I wanted to win, but I was half afraid I'd hurt him. I was nearly twice his size after all. The helmet that I hated for obstructing my vision had to come off, and I tried a verbal sally.
"Damn mouse, good moves, you almost had me."
I winced as soon as the words left my mouth, knowing how mouse would take it. What I had meant to say was 'damn mouse, if you hadn't been under thrown there, I'd have had no chance.' or something similar.
His look soured briefly, and he responded while taking off his own helmet:
"I did have you, till you sat on me."
I grinned, he really was touchy about his size. And his looks. I studied his profile till I noticed he was glaring....Oh right, her. He really hated her because of that tomato fiasco. He was too serious...I mean, she did catch it. Sure draining the hydroponic tank and replacing the fluids was a chore, but the food supply wasn't contaminated, just a few tomatoes.
"You're glaring at her again."
"she should be exercising, not sitting on her butt staring at you."
"You can't be working all the time mouse, I keep telling you, you need to relax."
His grin broadened, and I knew what was coming.
"I AM RELAXED!"
I found myself sticking my finger in my ear to relieve the ringing. Such a loud voice from such a little guy.
"Not everyone has to work as hard as you. You'll never make captain if you can't take personalities into consideration."
Despite what he thought I wanted him to make captain; I'd be more than happy with first officer.
"She spends all her time staring at you, you lady killer...which means she barely works at all. As my dad would say, you
pull your weight or you get off."
I gave Lissa a glance. She smiled and winked at me.
"Well she doesn't have that much weight to pull."
"About ten kilos more than you might think; I've had to re-calibrate her showers' grav plating, I know."
"No way!"
I held open the door as we reached the showers, and he entered first. To think that he knew one of the deepest kept secrets of any woman. Or perhaps he was yanking my chain, as my father would say.
I started my shower before a thought struck.
"Well she carries it well; all I'm going to say."
"Can't really argue that."
Mouse cut loose a small sigh of longing that I don't think he even realized he made. He didn't seem to understand that he needed to deal with people; treat them well or poorly, but at least talk to them.
He also didn't seem to understand that most girls just couldn't stand a man that looked cuter than they did. Why he couldn't see it was another mystery. For someone so brilliant, why couldn't he look in the mirror and see that the painfully thin small looking boy had the features they wish they had.
I mean sure they didn't do much for him, despite his obvious natural abilities.
None dared to tease him about it though; not since Eric. The little mouse was fierce. So far only I could really beat him with any consistency, though with the other guys starting to grow up that would probably change. His family art was really something though. He finished first of course, not being concerned at all about appearance, only being late. I knew how important it was, but I was really trying to blow time so Lissa would leave.
I ran a comb through my hair and left a good minute after mouse, as the other guys were just beginning to come in. They were even less worried about being late than I was. We were too focused, they all replied when I asked. The adults knew where we all were anyway.
Crap...Lissa was still here.
"Hi Roger!"
I nodded politely as I passed. Even Carla and Milla had gone on to their prospective jobs...she really should have taken that hint.
"Hi Lissa, can't really talk, need to get to the bridge or the captain will fire me."
"Ha ha, good one Roger! See you later!"
luckily she missed my grimace. That was a pretty awful joke. I needed a wit transplant or something. Wonder if the doc could pull that off?
You know you're too engrossed in your own inner dialogue when you almost ram a closed elevator. I waited impatiently, checking the time on my mini pad. I had been offered a watch as a birthday present years ago, but I demanded the pad instead. After all, a watch has one function...the pad has hundreds, and is only slightly bigger. Why not?
I stepped on the elevator with a minute to spare; riding it up to the bridge should only take 31 seconds.
The door opened to:
"That better be you Mr Smitt."
"It is sir; on time and ready to work sir."
The medium built man whom I already had an inch on turned, an old hat on his head. Legend and rumor had that hat as the on awarded to a Russian captain upon achieving the rank and getting his first ship, on an ocean. It was white, with a gold emblem on it that I didn't know, and didn't bother to look up.
The first captain had owned it, and one of us would soon.
"We saw your game on camera; good save at the end."
"Thank you sir."
His demeanor turned serious, just like that.
"We need to talk; inside."
He gestured to the conference room off to the left of the bridge, set aside for bridge staff to discuss emergencies. I entered to find Viktor already waiting on us. Viktor was the first officer, and son of the former captain.
"Sit down Roger."
I sat while he paced. Something was seriously eating him, destroying his calm. I opened my mouth but then he spoke.
"As you know, the second generation is due to enter cryo in two weeks."
He looked at me for confirmation so I nodded.
"What you don't know, nor does anyone in your current generation, is that several things have to be aired before we get frozen."
I nodded again, spellbound. He had a bomb to drop, I could tell.
"The truth is we don't have full freedom on this ship; we never have."
"...what was that sir?"
"We don't have total control; we share it. Oddball is as much in charge as we are. It makes decisions based on its own ideas on what is needed for our survival."
"With all due respect sir...duh?"
"No mr Smitt, you don't understand.It has far more input in the care and operation of our little colony than you realize. One of the most important jobs for a captain of this vessel is to reason with oddball, or back it's decisions. You see, it votes too."
Viktor passed me his pad, with a red lettered document displaying. It took me awhile to understand what I was seeing...then it took even longer for the urge to throw up to pass.
"It's serious about this? Oddball really wants our male to female ratio to be even?"
"We triple checked, it's genuine. Oddball wants a girl for every boy, 'to maximize happiness and retain the family dynamic.' and it will take steps if we don't."
"What kind of steps?"
"We don't really know, nor do we want to...I wouldn't put a few accidents out of the picture though."
He had to be kidding.
"Why are you showing me this?"
"It's simple; along with this memo, we got another. Go ahead."
Obligingly I hit the next key and got a second memo; oddball's short list on generation 3's roster. My name was at the top for captain. Mouse's name wasn't even on the list. Oddball had him listed as the first pick for engineer. Without mouse on that list, I had no real competition for captain. The captain knew this.
"Congratulations Smitt."
"Your son is going to be devastated sir."
"Would you like to know another secret Smitt?"
"Sure sir. I am a sponge to the water of your wisdom."
"Ha. Careful what you wish for. Seems the captain, despite how it appears, is not considered the most important person on the ship... the engineer is. The engineer is invariably the smartest, most skilled, most capable person on the ship. The captain falls somewhere around third best, from a skills and yes genetic standpoint. Good genes are very important to Oddball. Can you tell me who are the personnel never allowed off ship, under any circumstances?"
"The chief engineer, the doctor, and captain."
"Yes and no. That is the textbook answer, but the truth is a bit different. I as captain, can in fact override that directive...but only for myself. Oddball will remove me from command if I tried to make Cargie or Dr Songer EVA to mine. Their skill set is just considered too valuable and too costly in time to have someone relearn.
Oddball considers the chief engineer the most valuable human on the ship. Cargie, contrary to appearances, is the smartest person of my generation on the ship, and can fill in or quickly learn any role needed. We can't fully learn his role without years of training. My son has learned all that Cargie knows about the workings of this ship...in six months."
"Which is why he's on the list for engineer; you knew, didn't you? that's why the extended learning under Cargie."
"Yes I knew. I've sat right where you are now. Cargie would be captain otherwise. Now the hard part. I could handle the first memo... but I won't. Consider this your first true test. You're an acting captain; Oddball will respond to you directly. Proceed very carefully."
"I will captain."
"You're dismissed."
"Yes captain."
I slid Viktor's pad back to him in a daze and left. I walked, not even sure where I was going.
I ended up at the observatory.
The observatory was an example of a good idea but bad execution. The room was filled with comfortable couches, facing a huge see through section of the hull, open to the stars. That was of course the problem, as with the ship rotating at varying speeds, the star scape could cause vertigo and motion sickness in all but the most hardy among us.
Especially when you realized up and down were all relative; the stars did not have the same directions we did. I mean
according to earth standards we were all walking on the outer wall.
I didn't take long to crack.
Wandering again I ended up in the mess hall, Just as mouse was leaving oddly enough. He pointed at our latest game dejour
with a cocky smirk and a thumbs up. Must mean he topped my high score.
I took a look. Damn it, he'd doubled it! How in the crap! I fiddled around in it, thinking, and Crashing far too often. After crash number fifteen I smacked myself. Damn it, hate it when my brain clears and I realize I just don't have enough information. I brought out my pad, right there in the game. I set up an appointment in the interface room...Oddball's room, where theoretically anyone could go and ask questions. With an appointment, the crazy thing would even answer.
My appointment was for tomorrow, early morning. I sent a message to the captain informing him why I might be late for my
shift, then went to get some sleep.
It was a long time coming.
*******************************************************
Mornings come, as they always do. Of course I almost overslept, my alarm taking a good 5 minutes of constant blaring noise to wake me. Going to have to work on that...5 minutes could be the difference between life and death some day. As always, I was cutting it close so I just threw on clothes and ran a comb through my hair a few times. I'd take a shower after exercise.
Running down the corridors is never a good occupation for a future captain, even if the people involved don't know you'll be captain yet. But run I did...if I missed this appointment, Oddball would just make the next one in a week. He was a petty machine in some ways. I wasn't sure I could survive a week without answers.
The good news is that it was still early by ship standards, so only two people saw me. Carla, Lissa's friend and biologist, and William, our pilot in training. Neither of them saw me duck into the Oddball's room. Which was good because none of us came here; if they saw me, I'd have a group outside waiting, wondering why I'd talked to the crazy thing.
I only had to wait 4 seconds for the robotic form of Oddball to peel itself from the wall. When Magellan had been built, the aliens (we called them Venusians; it was some sort of joke I didn't get) had helped us create the ship with their technology, of which Oddball was supposed to be the pinnacle; an artificial intelligence decades, maybe even centuries, above the best we could manage.
The crazy thing had promptly decided it needed a physical representation of itself, and with the earth still in the aft observatory view port, created one.
It was white, an immaculate and impossible white I'd only seen here. It stood 2 meters tall, with rounded limbs that looked human, but with visible joints at all the standard bend spots. It had no hair, no eyes, a general shape of a nose, and oddly enough it's mouth was perfect. It was in general, shaped as a man, but had no gender characteristics...and of course it was naked so you could tell.
All in all, the general consensus was that if it had wanted to fit in on the ship, it had done a poor job of it. To further mystify us, the added fact was that the Oddball never stepped this...apparition out of this room. It had never been seen outside. It's baritone snapped me out of my desperate wandering thoughts.
"Good morning Roger, what is your concern?"
"Good morning Oddball, you sent a memo to the captain that has me concerned. I came to ask you about it."
"Are you referring to memo g2-369874? I assure you Roger, you are qualified to perform the duties of captain adequately."
"No oddball, I'm referring to the other one."
"Memo g2-369873...in accordance with directive 7?"
"That's the one."
"What is your concern?"
It honestly couldn't guess?
"Refresh my memory on directive seven please."
One always had to at least try and be polite with Oddball...he took it badly if you weren't.
"Directive seven refers to colony population controls while aboard this vessel. The male population should never exceed the female population, barring unfortunate situations."
So it was saying females were more valuable. Why?
"Why?"
"Conception in space is difficult. Many of the methods of bringing human children to term are unreliable in a vacuum with low gravity. The most reliable method to ensure the colony's survival lies in the female of the species."
Well that's sort of clinical. He wouldn't win any points with the girls, that's for sure. Kind of ironic in a way that the low tech approach worked best. All that growing in knowledge and power and we hadn't escaped evolution's third most elementary action for any life form.
"I understand, you're saying we need wombs for successful reproduction of our species."
"Correct."
"But why do we need an equal number? Surely a womb can be used more than once."
"Variance of the species. All members of the colony were chosen in part for their ability to provide the necessary genetic difference that keeps a population healthy. Also when dealing with humans it has been confirmed that a family unit is most advantageous."
"Can't we artificially inseminate for the needed variance?"
"In short term that might be possible; however such an act could lead to potentially ruinous long term effects."
"So you're saying by the 10th generation we'd run out of couples, because we'd all be related too closely."
"correct."
I took a moment to collect myself. I was shocked I actually understood the thrust of the quirky AI's arguments.
"So you're saying the population was supposed to be equal, in every generation; what went wrong?"
"With reliance on natural means success is guaranteed, however control is lacking. Despite genetic and hormonal manipulation 27 children were born male and 23 were born female."
I was cold. This thing had admitted to openly manipulating our genes in the womb to provide what it felt was a favorable outcome. What else could it do? What else had our grandparents given it permission to do?
"Why is this only coming up as an issue now?"
"Current active population is 94. 44 adults, 50 children. 57 females, 47 males. In two weeks current active population will be 50, with 27 males and 23 females. This is a situation not conducive to the survival or happiness of the colony."
Ahh shit. It made sense, if you were a computer. I guess. It obviously differentiated between children and adults, or it'd have sprung this on the captain before the accident. Sigh, I had to ask, but I was really going to hate myself for it.
"Recommendations?"
"Allow this unit to correct the problem. This unit will suggest personnel to fit the necessary criteria. Hold a vote after personnel selections are chosen, in the same manner. Two of the males in that vote will be chosen to become females."
I caught myself gaping at the thing.
"You can do that? With wombs and everything?"
I was pretty sure human tech alone couldn't do what Oddball was suggesting.
It made a show of looking up at me and I swear I could see surprise on it's non face.
"Of course."
"Any other options?"
"Early cryogenic containment, or the subtraction of 4 males from the population. Neither recommendation is ideal, as either option inhibits population growth."
It was seriously talking about forcing 4 of us into cryo, or murder. I had half hoped the captain was making a joke...but this, this was sick. Even if we were just talking cryo, we couldn't afford the loss of man power so early in our shift. The captain's generation had a hard enough time covering the loss now, with our help.
"Who are your recommendations for these procedures?"
"Those personnel that procedure 1 is most likely to succeed on are still being calculated. If you wish, I will send you the appropriate files once complete. The personnel most likely for early stasis or liquidation are Seth Castillo, Brian Moore, Guido Patrucci, and Ronald Simmons."
So right off the bat, we'd lose an EVA/heavy tools specialist, one of our better chemists, our lone combat specialist, and our astronomer. Completely unacceptable.
"You have another concern?"
I must have spent too long pondering the problem.
"Not at this time, I need to think about the solution. Should I require more information, do I make another appointment?"
"It is not required, you may text me with your pad, using the subject 'G3-c1'. Will there be anything else?"
"Not at this time, thank you."
I knew the machine had thrown that last bit out to force me to be civil. It placed great emphasis on civility...even as it blithely discussed the murder of four people important to the future of our little bit of humanity. But not quite important enough it seemed, as they didn't have wombs or weren't quite the cream of our small crop. I wonder if the other Arks have to deal with problems like this, or already have.
What would another captain choose I wonder? Letting the damn AI have it's way with two people would hardly sit well with the whole. After all, what was to stop it from doing it again if it deemed it was required? Then again, letting the AI kill or forcibly inter 4 people we needed wouldn't go over well either.
In the end it was kind of a simple choice. Let the AI alter two people, but keep their functionality and make them what the colony needed to procreate...or completely lose the functionality of four people, with the same morale loss.
I'd only made it back to my berth when my pad chimed. Oddball had answered me, both slower and faster than I had expected. I felt fairly certain that oddball had people in mind when he suggested his crazy plan, and hadn't wanted to tell me on purpose. My finger paused in opening the message.
What if that was because I was on the list? Could I deal with that?
It would be a relief actually. One less person to convert against their will; I'd do it gladly for the colony, if just to avoid making someone else do it. I thumbed open the list as I entered my room.
My name wasn't on the list.
Mouse's was.
(tbc)
The morning began like any other, rise with the alarm, yawn, go in search of my one vice..caffeine (I didn't care what form it took, I'd eat the beans if I had to) Wave Hi to mom, as today she worked second shift. Dress in my Silk pants and shirt (Silk worms are amazing, low maintenance, high production) and head down to the commissary for breakfast.
Coffee wasn't popular on the ship, so I brewed it at our quarters and carried it along; however my favorite breakfast, pancakes, was...and I knew I could find it waiting for me every day at the commissary. It helped avoid the spacer's worst enemy...waste.
Others liked to cook for themselves, but I hated to waste the time. Besides, cookie did well enough, provided the garden was well tended.
"Hey cookie two!"
"Don't call me that mouse!"
Marion, or cookie two, (daughter of our first officer and current cook in training...whether that role stuck or she moved on had yet to be determined) completed the joke between us with a laugh. She had pale skin and dark red hair that she was forced to keep short. she wasn't the beauty that Lissa was, but she had a pleasant face and an easy laugh.
"I've got your usual right here."
"Thanks Marion, you're a lifesaver."
"you're welcome, we have enough for seconds today if you're interested."
"might take you up on that."
calories were normally rigidly monitored...with the adults busy, some of those restrictions had lapsed it seemed. Oh well, I wasn't in charge yet.
I sat down at my regular table and started in, before my first bite was gone Marion sat next to me. The place was pretty much deserted, so no one would call her on it.
"You should give up that devil's brew...I read that it stunts growth, and you don't need that kind of help."
I flipped her off and continued chewing. Just because she was 5cm taller....
"So, mouse, been thinking. What would you say to a party on vote day?"
Vote day, or more appropriately election day (though none of us called it that) was the day after our parents went into cryo. It was done this way to avoid the parents influencing the elections, even though technically that left a power vacuum for a day, in reality we all knew what to do, and how best to pitch in and help each other.
After six years of near constant training, we had better.
"I'd say it could work, but we should probably wait and gauge the mood of everyone else. After all, it's a pretty safe bet not everyone is going to be happy that day."
I know I wouldn't, I loved my parents.
"All the more reason to have the party. Would you do the music?"
I had a gift of sorts for music. Out of all of us, I could play it. Pick any tune from the database, I could play it live for you. That weird electronic stuff that was comprised from disparate sounds mixed together? I understood it, and could recreate it reasonably well. (One of my favorite music types in fact.) And if you couldn't find it, I could compose it for you.
All of us really had gifts like that, but I liked mine. Marion had a gift for growing plants. Useful, but I preferred mine.
"Provided we actually have one, yes I'll do the music. Hell I might have one of my jam sessions tonight; haven't decided."
"Just the hint of one of your jam sessions sees me here. You better deliver."
As I was about to reply my pad paged me, so I looked at it instead. It was a work order...for the sewage treatment plant seals. Fucking joy.
"Well that's an interesting look. Care to tell me what it means?"
"It's nothing Marion, just another intriguing day in the life of adventure as an engineer's assistant."
"Ahh, so it's either water treatment, or sewage."
I tapped my nose. Of course she knew, we all took our rounds.
"Better get started. If the sewage is turned off for any length of time, the gardeners will scream."
The gardeners were our nick name for the botanists that ran the garden. they used our feces (after it was treated of course)to help grow the plants we ate. Nature's cycle, or some such.
"Yeah true, not to mention with the maintenance cycle half the heads will be down."
wonder why we called our bathrooms 'heads'? Probably some old obscure military term that our grandparents knew. My generation used the old terminology with only half a clue what it meant, sometimes. I wondered if, should I thaw my esteemed ancestors out, if they would know what it all meant.
"Yeah, hurry up, don't want to have to walk 20 minutes to find a working bathroom."
"I'll do my best."
I walked out quickly, dancing to the tune of her shooing motions. The main tank seals were what needed replaced; it was a yearly thing, as no one really wanted crap to leak everywhere. The main tank was under the treatment plant itself, not far from the manufacturing wing, oddly enough.
Which meant one mistake and I'd be floating with poo.
Luckily of course, I had done the same thing last year, under the guidance of Cargie. I'd be solo this time, but I still remembered the procedure. When I reached my station to pick up my tools and protective gear, Cargie was already there.
"What brings you here so early lad?"
I showed him the work order.
"Poo, of course."
"Ahh, must be Oddball; I didn't assign anything. In fact I think the scheduled maintenance isn't for another few weeks..."
"Well you might be right, but it is Oddball after all. He probably detected a a minute leak or something."
A major leak would have been deemed an emergency. After all, even our waste was a valuable resource.
"Word of advice...Don't forget the vacuum unit."
"I'd never. Good luck with the shuttle maintenance."
"How did you...ahh, lad, my apologies. Didn't mean to insult you."
"It's OK, I honestly don't get how you old timers do it."
"We make lists lad, we make lists."
I nodded and waved. My memory was always good, my mother called it eidetic. I could remember everything if I bothered to try, since the age of 3. Lugging all the equipment to the center of the ship through the tubes was a chore, but ended up being faster than taking the long way around.
The waste tank was old, large (a good 67000 liters) coated with patches of rust somehow, and did in fact have a small drip. Luckily, the spill was easily cleaned up with the vacuum, a paper towel, and some bleach. Then of course I got started on the leaky seal. First I hooked the vacuum onto the inflow hose in question, and turned it on full.
Then I gloved up and carefully undid the side hatch, sliding the specially made partition into place (without this, the vacuum pressure start pulling the tank contents out...and I certainly didn't want that). After that it was simple; unscrew the hose, let it float free and the vacuum pick up the stray crap, then pull the seal from the outside edge of the hose and replace it.
I had heard the first seals were a substance called rubber. The ones we used now were supposed to be superior to that ancient substance. A chemical compound shaped into a ring that upon hitting our air for exactly 5 minutes, started to expand. you placed it on, waited a good 4 minutes, and then screwed the hose back on. By the time you were finished the seal had completely expanded to fill any space between the tanks outflow reception and the hose itself. Simple.
Of course they were originally designed to be replaced immediately, but I was trained as an engineer. I didn't want to wait 5 minutes for the stupid thing to seal with poo leaking out of it in the meantime.
I sighed and pulled the partition out. One down, 19 more to go.
************************************************************************************************************
Mouse's name wasn't just on the list, it topped it. There was a percentage of success for the process listed for each candidate, and his was 94.823%.
the next names down the list were William, our soon to be pilot, who scored a possible 73.12% success rate, Regi, one of those people pretty much inheriting a botanist position and sporting a 61.74% success rate. Chen, one of the all purpose craftsmen who knew how to do things like work with wood and work stone with primitive methods, rounded out the list with a 38.23% success rate.
The real story was why they had success rates at all. Oddball had been influencing all of us while we were fetuses in the womb, a tweak here, a tweak there. This was allowed to lower or remove any risk of genetic diseases and defects...but Oddball had taken it to extremes. He had in several cases attempted to control the gender of the child to be born.
The four people listed were those that managed to resist his genetic gender tinkering somehow, and while having been 'adjusted' to have traits of females, had been born male instead. They were also among the last to be born for generation 3, with mouse in fact taking that honor.
The only consolation I had was that because we were deemed children at the time and therefore different than adults, no 'corrective' measures were taken, as such measures would have endangered the children and the health of the colony as a whole.
Oddball was a bastard.
How could our grandparents have agreed to this? This wasn't population control, it was genetic tampering with our very species. I wasn't a doctor, I couldn't make much sense out of the particulars...but I knew enough to doubt Oddball's motivations. Problem was, Ana, the ship's doctor, was mouse's mom. I really didn't want her to sort out mouse's strange hormones and protein chains.
Besides, what if she knew and approved?
I liked Ana...I used to play with mouse all the time, I remembered Ana as a constantly smiling, laughing woman who would play hide and seek and tag with us. I really didn't want to ruin those memories with such an ugly truth. And if I was wrong, and doing her a disservice, what could it change really?
I was fairly sure that undoing the 'adjustments' caused in mouse's fetal stages was beyond our science. It was too widespread. I was also fairly sure that I didn't dare field Chen as a viable name...anyone with a 38% had lousy odds, and would only lead to us freezing or killing someone when he didn't convert.
Or worse, he didn't fully convert. Assuming such a thing was possible. (I was well versed in Murphy's law.)
I had to see the captain, so I paged him. the response came almost immediately:
"Come to the bridge conference room."
I didn't waste time, walking in to see the captain already seated, with a small glass of something before him. He pointed to the bottle.
"Go ahead, I have the feeling we will both need it."
It was rum, a drink from earth. The bottle looked old enough to be from earth as well, sporting some sort of weirdly dressed man on it. I sat down, shoved my pad over his way, and poured myself a tiny glass full. Looking up from the glass I could see the shock form. Then came the frown, much as mine had some minutes before.
The look of utter outrage however probably formed more quickly than my own.
the last look however, was most telling. Resignation. A complete concession omitting any hope of victory.
"With all due respect sir, what the hell!?!"
He looked up from the data, eyes seeming a thousand years old.
"Oddball is a computer Smitts; it views us as parts of the same whole it is in; parts to be manipulated towards the purpose of survival. Our people tried to make it understand how important happiness was to us, and how important freedom of choice was to that happiness. They only partially succeeded."
"I get that sir, but...!"
"No, listen Smitts. Just listen. Oddball presented you three options, that's our freedom. The freedom to choose that our ancestors fought so hard for. All three options admittedly suck, but if you don't choose, or your generation doesn't choose by vote...the choice will be made for you, in the most expedient and cost effective manner. I know, believe me I know, what this is like for you...but I can't make this one for you. these problems...might even get worse. I can't help you out here."
"...I understand sir."
"One thing though Smitts."
"Yes sir?"
"None of us knew. Whatever you do, don't tell Ana; news like this would break her."
"Yes sir. One last thing sir."
"Yes Smitts?"
"Have you ever had a decision like this?"
"No...nothing this bad. Worst I had to make was whether to remove life support."
He had removed it, as I remembered.
"Smitt's, it is entirely likely that the decisions will only get worse each generation. While we are nearing a new local solar system, It may be years, decades, or even a century or more before we find a sun and planet for us. Our best bet is Epsilon-Indi, but that may not have any planets capable of supporting us."
"Yes sir."
"I know, I know, you know all this. The point I'm trying to make is simple. I understand your feelings...but we need Oddball to survive. Keep that in mind that we may be all there is left of humanity. Our happiness is secondary, much as I hate to admit it. If you do decide to take...steps, let mouse handle it. Short of waking the dreamers, mouse is your best bet."
"Let me guess, Oddball won't let me wake the first gen."
"Or us once we go under; only the ship failing is grounds for an early awakening."
"I feel like I need a list of do's and don'ts."
He smiled at me, a wan thing, barely alive.
"So did I, it'll pass. If you're finished Mr Smitts, I'd really like to be alone now."
I nodded, looking down in surprise briefly at the empty glass cradled in numb fingers. Replacing it on the table I beat a hasty retreat.
He knew...he knew what I'd choose. He never called his son mouse, that was our nickname for him, given because of his size and habit of crawling through the tubes and duct work as a child, rather than walking the halls. The captain always called him Mo'ar, his given name, or son. Instead he'd called him mouse, tacitly highlighting the choice he knew I'd pick.
Maybe even the choice he'd pick.
I wasn't even captain yet, and already I hated the job. It hadn't escaped my notice that I was technically supposed to be on duty and yet was just summarily dismissed.
Maybe I was going about this wrong. Maybe I should actually seek advice from the brightest mind on the ship. Maybe there was a fourth solution I was missing, and with a little help, I'd find it. I looked up just in time to avoid slamming into Eric.
"Hey man, watch it!"
"Sorry, heavy thoughts."
I noticed he was dressed in his football gear. Hmm, odd for him to wear it around.
"No worries. Hey you coming to exercise period today? We could use your help."
"Sure, crap time sure flies."
"It's those rusty gears in your head man, they can't turn more than one way...so slow."
"Don't make me hurt you man."
I replied with a smile to match his. He was joking, and I knew it...but he knew if he pushed me too far I'd break him. Eric was the closest thing we had to a pure asshole. At least, if the old movies we watched were any indicator. A classic macho man and bully.
For some reason he liked me, never quite catching on to the fact that I detested him.
"By the way, if you end up sidelining someone due to questionable hits, I will stop playing football. Get me?"
I hadn't forgotten him aiming for mouse's knees. We didn't need people getting hurt and being unable to do their jobs just to salve his ego. I knew if I stopped playing football, most of the guys would too, migrating to whatever game I chose. Being considered the alpha male did have a few perks. He knew it too, and football was his favorite game.
"Hey man, I'll be careful...don't worry."
I didn't reply. I didn't need to.
We reached the exercise room, waved at it, and walked through to see most of the gang here, or at least those that weren't working night shifts. The girls were out in force of course, most of them dressed to please the eye and knowing it, a few actually appeared to be arranging a tennis net.
I secretly approved...and wondered what Lissa would look like in those short skirts favored for the sport. Very briefly, as Lissa was a can of worms I did not want to open. I walked past her with a wave, trying to ignore the way her eyes lit up.
"Afternoon Lissa. going to work out today?"
"Yes, I think my ankle is well enough today. Thought I'd try some ballet dancing."
Lissa had complained of an ankle problem yesterday as her excuse to watch instead of do. She hadn't been limping. Of course a certain amount of exercise was mandatory, and she had greater expectations on that score, since as a botanist she didn't really do anything too strenuous.
Of course Lissa was the closest we had to an accomplished ballet dancer, and the dress she was in made her look rather like those ballet artists of old, in costume and waiting to take the stage.
"Hey Lissa, how are you?"
I took the distraction afforded by Eric to make a break for it and get my clothes.
"Be right back!"
Not for the first time I thanked the ancestors' foresight in using the tags.
When the ship first started off, leaving earth behind...the other Arks were still in communication with each other, sharing problems, solutions to those problems, navigational information, and just plain comfort that such contact brings. The hatches and airlocks of the ship were all open; anyone and everyone had free run of the place.
There were...incidents. No one currently alive knew exactly what those incidents were, but stress and some sort of
space developed psychosis were mentioned as factors. Viktor's father, captain Sergei, ordered everyone on board to be injected with a certain type of self replicating nanite which changed shapes in specific sequences. These tags as they were called, would be scanned by doorways across the ship and those who didn't have the correct tag...couldn't enter.
There were no incidents aboard Ark 14.
Of course what that meant for us today...is that Lissa and her people couldn't enter the men's room. A fact which I was thankful for.
"Hey Rog, how's the bridge treating you?"
He was taking a shower...before we exercised.
"something wrong? Old man didn't tell you I won already did he?"
I stared into his easy grin, cursing the slip of my poker face. He always could read me it seemed, or well enough.
"Nah man, just posed a problem involving Oddball to me, as a hypothetical, and I'm having problems solving it. So why the shower before the game?"
"Simple, sewage tank seal replacement day. I didn't even want to take this.' He held up his zero-g tablet before popping it in his mouth; 'until I was sure I was clean. I take no chances."
How could I have missed it before? How could anyone have? He wasn't painfully thin, he had the slight build of a young girl. His features weren't small, they were proportionate...for a girl. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see it clearly. The girl he could be stared back at me; delicate, waifish...but strong.
And oh so very beautiful. A younger version of her mother. Lissa couldn't hold a candle, really.
And that last thought was oh so very wrong.
"Man, you sick or something? That problem that bad? If it's that bad tell me, and I'll see what I can do. The old man doesn't have to know.
I looked into my best friends face and collected myself.
"That'd be great. See it's about a space 2001 scenario, where Oddball goes off the rails..."
He nodded and I noticed, really noticed for the first time, his swan like neck. He had no adam's apple. I saw it now...we had just thought his voice change was late, and it likely was, but it probably wouldn't get any deeper like mine had.
"...so how would you reprogram Oddball if it were you? What protocols would you use? I mean it's clear we need it, but in that sort of scenario...."
"It might be best to just hope against hope and shut him off if he pulled something like that. I mean, yes we need him for deep space and by twenty years or so we'd be risking much without him; he does so much around here on automation. Ship would eventually fall apart without him. I don't know man, can't think of a solution off the top of my head, that's a doozy. But I'll work on it."
"Alright, all I can really ask. OK you know they won't pair us up no matter how we ask, so I'll see you on the other side of the line. Just got to talk to Lief a sec."
"Sure thing."
The other boys really wouldn't let us group up, not since the last time. Together mouse and I dominated.
"Hey Lief."
"Hey Rog, here to spike my game winning arm?"
"Not at all, here to give you advice. You quarterbacking again?"
"Probably."
"OK...then when you throw to mouse, throw at least three steps ahead of him on the route. If you manage to do that, he'll catch it every time, and I won't be able to catch him."
I returned his puzzled look before he gave in.
"Why tell me that? I mean, it sounds like you're setting yourself up for a loss."
"Maybe...but we won't know if I can stop him at his best unless you play at yours. I don't like to lose, but I absolutely hate losing due to other people screwing up. It cheapens the win if I cant beat you all at your best."
"I...sort of understand that. Well you'll see the difference today."
I nodded in replay and went back to my regular team.
****************************************************************************************
Things were finally looking up. After a shitty morning (literally), and a quick but thorough shower, my team and I had slaughtered Roger's team. I don't know what roger said to Lief to piss him off, but he was an entirely different player afterwards, throwing the ball with reckless abandon, almost daring the other team to pick him...and forcing me to make the catch or spoil the interception every time.
He still threw to Brian and Chen with his customary reserve, but for me he kept pushing it.
I was of course delighted, and rose to the challenge.
The game ended with them playing zone defense in a desperate bid to stop me, and us up 42 to 17.
I ran up as the buzzer sounded and gave Lief a high five.
"Not too shabby man, what did Rog say to piss you off?"
"Said I threw like a girl, all timid and scared of hurting someone."
He replied with a laugh.
"Man don't let Claire hear you say that, she threw a wrench at me a week ago that damn near broke something."
His eyes widened alarmingly.
"Noted. Not someone I want pissed at me."
amidst all the other high fives and great games and other celebratory noises, we entered the showers. I didn't need another of course, one a day was plenty. So I simply changed clothes. I was putting on my shirt when I noticed Roger was staring at me.
"What's up man?"
He shook himself rather violently.
"Nothing man, great game today, guess I shouldn't have mouthed off to Lief."
"yeah you lit a fire under him. Now Eric will try to poach him for the dark side."
"He can't, Guido throws well enough, and likes to quarterback. One word and Eric gets broken."
"Wouldn't really break my heart. Got to go man, impromptu concert tonight. I sort of shot my mouth off to Marion, and you know how she is. Got to grab my stuff."
"Excellent mouse, It's been too long since the last one."
"It was only two weeks ago, idiot. Anyway, I'll think on your problem. If I come up with a solution I'll let you know."
"I appreciate that."
I hustled down the corridor to our living quarters, thinking.
What the hell WAS that?
Roger had been staring at me. With a look on his face that I didn't recognize. Now on a ship this small, everyone knew everyone else, and everyone was friends with everyone else, more or less. I knew all of Roger's looks; we had been friends all our lives.
But that last look? I had no clue.
Probably just gas.
I keyed our door and was greeted right off.
"Hey son."
"hey dad, what are you doing home?"
"I felt I deserved some time off."
Stepping closer I realized he smelled like booze; couldn't recognize the type, but likely not the stuff from Cargie's not so secret still.
"Caught your game though, you played well."
"Played well? Played well? I was amazing, and you know it."
"Careful, your head will get too big for your body to support."
This was not a short joke; he meant that my ego was growing...but I still caught myself bristling a little.
"So dad, was just getting my sound mixing equipment. I plan to do another concert at the Commissary."
"I'll be there. You set up, I'll round up the crew. We'll make a night of it."
"If you want, I'll even play some of that wub wub music you like."
"Quiet you, you know dubstep is good."
"Yeah, well mom likes it too. Counts for something."
To each their own. I knew I'd be playing a bit of everything tonight. Shipboard entertainment was stale under the best of circumstances, unless you made up the entertainment yourself. My poison of choice was music. We had a few other people who could act out old plays, or write entertaining things based on data from old earth.
Otherwise it'd be movie night every night, and let's face it, there are only so many times anyone can watch a Hugh grant movie or movies about British child wizards before wanting to space themselves.
What the hell was magic supposed to be, anyway?
(tbc)
The concert went well; No shortage of requests, from country to my favorite mixes, and a few of my own minor works. Everyone danced according to their tastes, and I played for hours.
I didn't sing unless specifically requested though, since more than a few liked to make fun of my voice. I couldn't sing lower range songs anyway.
Still sang enough to go through my drink of choice for such nights, grape juice. Water just wasn't heady enough on singing nights.
Marion kept them coming...I'm not sure how much of my rationing was burned through, but I'm sure it was a good month's worth.
At least the dinner was communal, and therefore ration allotments were waived for it. A cause for celebration while we
celebrated, as the old joke goes. A good time was had by all, even me as I worked my butt off entertaining.
Towards the end even the night shift got involved, which was a bit crazy. For them it was very early, as in, earlier than most of them woke. People I rarely saw anymore, like Roger's younger sister Jennifer, took advantage of my presence to get some early morning requests in.
Oddly enough, even Eric's sister Brunhilde showed up.
She was a night engineer, electrical specialist. She was also in the running for largest person on the ship, being as tall
as Roger and almost as wide. She had a personality like a bear's was reputed to be. (We had a few in Cryo down in the main cryo hold...along with many other species from old earth...I'd seen it, a huge thing that could likely eat me in one gulp, with claws that could likely punch through steel.)
She wore a set of coveralls and a silk shirt I could likely use as a blanket, and had her corn yellow hair up in a large braid. She always sported a severe no nonsense expression that reminded me of someone eating sour candies.
She also had one of the sweetest singing voices on the ship though, and a healthy set of lungs. You could hear her bellow
tunes from half the ship over, if you were standing right.
"Hey Brun, want to take over?"
"Um, sure, at least till I'm on shift."
"No problem, I'll leave my stuff here, and pick it up later. I'm tired and need sleep, and your people still want music."
"Well as long as they don't ask me to do that 'mixing' thing you do, I can provide. Have a good night mouse."
"Good night and morning people! Glad you had fun!"
I took my bow and ran off. It wasn't really all that late for me, I'd stayed up later...but I was feeling more tired than
usual for some reason. Maybe it was all the running around earlier.
I was asleep almost before I finished going horizontal, undressing be damned.
****************************************************************************************
Mouse was in rare form, answering every request, smiling, playing any music asked for, even the crap he hated. He'd even
pulled out his mini light show machine and was having it do several random things to add to the mood.
Despite this the mood was still slightly somber, as the realization that in two weeks our parent's wouldn't be annoying us
with the country and rap requests we hated.
That they in fact wouldn't be around at all. That our safety net, our margin of error, was about to get that much smaller.
I of course did my part to improve morale, which turned out to be dancing my fool feet off with Lissa, Milla, Carla, Claire, and basically anyone else that wanted a turn.
They all tended to blur together after awhile, which is why I was able to be surprised when after yet another turn with Lissa the music ended and I saw my sister Jen standing there. Where had the time gone?
"Hey bro! Can we talk?"
"Sure, how long have you been here? Am I up that late or are you that early?"
She made a dismissive gesture, shooing away lack of sleep as unimportant.
"Oh I'm that early. Listen we need to talk a bit, away from the crowd."
"Alright, let's go."
We walked out of the celebration and down the corrider for a full minute before she would speak.
"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just come out and say it. We need to be careful, big Bro. Oddball has us on suicide watch."
"...What?"
Jennifer was our psychologist/psychiatrist in training. Her real rank was field medic, but she had worked hard on automated courses and taught herself the workings of the mind. She was unprecedented however, we had never had anything close to a full time head shrinker on board. The closest we got was our first gen doctor, who had a degree in psychology as well. I knew she could under the right circumstances, supersede my command on medical grounds.
I trusted her mind more than most on the ship.
"Oddball has noted our morale as being at an all time low for generation 3; he has kicked in a few of the automated procedures. The tags are being used to track us, the weapons in the armory and various tools are being catalogued, and he is piping in calming scents into our living spaces and work areas, for starters. I told the captain the protocols were activated he said I should tell you. Does that mean...."
"It means I'm pretty much sure to be captain...but shh, you can't tell anyone. It wasn't rigged, but the appearance of it now would be very bad."
"Well can't argue with that. My point is Oddball is watching us extra carefully, there might or might not be anything to it, but he gives me the creeps."
"OK this probably means nothing but I've got to ask; you're not the first person to call Oddball a he, but why? It's an it."
"Oddball is clearly a guy. He identifies as a guy, made a body like a guy's, and thinks like a guy."
"What does that even mean?"
"If you have to ask, I can't tell you. It's just, we girls know. We've always known Oddball is a guy. A really weird guy, but a guy."
I shook my head, unable to follow the 'logic'
"So back to the matter at hand; does this hurt us in any way?"
"Not really yet, though it could. Say for example I get depressed and head to the machine shop. I'll be locked out of it
as having no business there, and then depending on my behavior I might have an antidepressant slipped into my food. If it's you I'll be called in to counsel you. Oddball could even see you relieved if you behave poorly or resist. Certain actions would be open to interpretation on Oddball's part."
"....Well, shit. I guess we will have to make extra sure none of us run off the rails, right? How was this morale indicator scored?"
"I don't know yet. Oddball might have been listening to our conversations, and tagging phrases like 'I'm going to miss mom and dad.' That could be all there is to it, there could be more; I don't know yet."
"Well please, look into it, it'll give us an idea of what we can do to fix the problem."
"Alright. Sorry to burden you. Go get some sleep?"
"Sure. Just one more thing to worry about, no big deal."
She turned around with a wave.
"Congratulations by the way."
"Thanks."
I continued on, looping around till I reach my families' quarters. I was the only one there of course. I walked around the
place, taking in the same paneled floor (plastic, made to look like wood. There was precious little real wood on board, most of that being very old or pressed reeds, like our paper) old prints, pictures and paintings, and battered furniture.
I couldn't smell anything different...but that didn't mean it wasn't there.
I was a long time sleeping.
***************************************************************************************
I woke up still clothed, with an idea floating in my head and the alarm beeping in my ear. This was nothing new, but
it was slightly novel that the idea was actually a solution for someone else, for a problem that didn't exist. Roger's
computer problem had a solution of sorts. The problem would be implementing it.
Shrugging I took a quick shower; my parents were both asleep; the occupied light on their door was on, and it was early
morning. I made coffee and composed the message to Roger on my pad:
*hey man, got your solution ready; it's not ideal, but it could work.*
I doubted the slacker would be awake, but he'd look me up a bit later. I must have really stressed myself in that game
yesterday; I didn't feel sick but had low grade aches everywhere; pulled muscles perhaps. Well no games today; perhaps I'd
pull a Lissa and sit exercise period out.
Going to the infirmary also sounded like a great idea.
My pad chimed; it was another work order. This time it was to inspect fuel tanks 1-20. Fuel tanks 1-20 were for the attitude thrusters on the port side of the Magellan; The fuel was always check each day, but every once in a great while our fuel gauges lost perfect calibration, leading to differences in readings. Therefore every month or so an engineer would be get the duty of checking the actual amount of fuel in a tank, and double checking the gauges themselves to ensure they were working.
No one knew how the gauges lost calibration in the first place; it drove all the engineers crazy. I beeped my confirmation
of the order, and got dressed in clean set of my normal clothes...a tan silk shirt and pants.
The infirmary was on the way so I stopped off. The door opened to my least favorite medic sitting behind the desk. Dirk 'the dope'.
An uncharitable nick name, but Dirk was believed to be possess the dubious honor of the lowest IQ on the ship...for all 3
generations. Despite that suspicion, he was a capable if uninspired medic. He also could manage a decent shuttle pilot score.
"What's up mouse?"
"Thinking I might be coming down with something, or pulled a muscle or something."
"Well, you want a physical then?"
"Nah. Really just want a few pain relievers so I can work. I mean, if it's a cold or flu they will work, and if it's just my muscles, it'll work too. No reason to over think it."
He didn't look convinced.
"I guess...but you said flu, so you're getting a cocktail. Not letting a disease spread on my watch if I can prevent it."
I tried not to let my impatience show.
"Fine, plug it in. I can wait a bit."
"Busy day?"
He asked as he started programming one of the machines behind him, a medication formulator. It was a big box filled with
the liquid forms of all types of vitamins, histamine blockers, and various medications. The idea was to simply plug in the
type of disease or problem you needed treated, the weight of the patient, and the machine calculated the proper dosage and filled a syringe for you.
Dirk couldn't screw it up; no one could.
I watched him type in 'cold, flu, and muscle ache', which would give me a vitamin cocktail, (no cure for the common cold
or flu, just preventatives to help keep the infection minor) and pain relief.
Then he turned to the other machine, and typed 'diagnostic'.
I frowned.
"give me a break mouse, you come in here complaining of feeling sick and pain, and you don't want to get a physical; so you're getting a diagnostic."
A diagnostic was a scan performed with slightly radioactive dye and nanites; it consisted of another shot full of both
substances, and an arm unit over the bicep that recorded the results and broadcast them to the infirmary for analysis. Being automated, it wasn't as good as a human controlled physical, but it was fairly accurate, especially for major problems like heart murmurs or bone breaks.
The bonus was you could get scanned while working; the bad point is it took an average of 12 hours to get fully scanned, and everyone knew you were feeling poorly by the arm unit. Standard procedure to get one or the other though, we took our health seriously.
"Alright, give me the shots, and yes if you must know, Oddball has me going to check fuel tanks today."
"Oh wow man, sucks to be you."
"Yep, you don't know the half of it; sewage was yesterday."
He pulled a face.
"only thing worse is when the water treatment plant needs drained. I feel for you engineers."
"Meh, it's a job. At least it'll be done, and I won't have to screw with it again."
He finished up; he really did have a knack for this, I hadn't felt either shot. The arm unit got placed just under my short sleeve, and beeped as soon as it clicked closed, showing it was working.
"Alright man, all set up. Have as much fun as you can today."
"Sure thing, you too."
******************************************************************
I woke up to my pad chime, and realized I'd slept through my alarm. Dreading the thought that it was from Oddball I cracked my eyes and gave it a half lidded glance. It was from mouse, and he claimed to have a solution to my problem.
Already?
Of course he was the smartest on the ship, but still...I'd not expected anything for another day at least. I had to remember to ask him if Oddball monitored us all the time. I knew Oddball could monitor us all the time...but that wasn't quite the same thing, was it?
I mean, it never commented on some of the stuff it would have seen, like the time I accidentally started that fire...or I'd have been disciplined for it, right? I was also fairly sure I wasn't the only one who had a few childhood screw ups like that. Surely I'd have heard about those if Oddball was doing it's thing.
I also realized I was putting off calling the bridge, so I did.
"You're late Mr Smitts...or you would be if you were on shift today." Viktor answered.
"Sorry sir, and I'm not?"
"Nope, it's collection day; Your turn."
I groaned, more crap. Collection day was a tradition...weekly reports from the various departments. We had long since switched to computer generated reports sent wirelessly to the bridge...but the day persisted as a way to get the gist of how well the ship was running, as well as get grievances and problems aired.
So once a week, one of the bridge crew was picked (usually by short straw) to go around the ship, gossiping with and getting reamed out by the crew. And of course since I was late, short straw was me. Stupid outdated tradition, sigh.
"On it sir."
I rolled out of bed, showered, and changed clothes. Making sure my old set hit the chute to the laundry (nothing pissed them off more than having people wait a few days then hit the laundry with several sets of clothes all at once). I was out and gone inside of ten minutes; breakfast could wait.
(tbc)
The tank recalibration took the entire work period, and resulted in some more zero-g work; the tanks were stored in the center area of the ship in order to reduce the chances of small meteorites and other debris hitting the tanks through the hull. A trade off, as the hoses carrying the fuel were always at risk of breakage or leaks.
Off course since the fuel itself was simply helium, pressurized to high levels inside the engine itself then squirted out under pressure; helium-4 was fairly common anywhere in space, and safe to use. Not to mention all the other uses for us.
We just didn't want to turn on a thruster to maneuver away from danger...and find out there was no propellent in it.
So the end result was I entered the exercise room just ahead the buzzer for it, as everyone else was lining up for football and tennis respectively.
"you're late!"
"Sorry Lief, can't play today; I might be coming down with something."
Well that caused a few frowns...I didn't blame them there, it was obvious what would happen without me. I didn't like the
bench either, but I didn't really feel up to playing.
there were a few other mutters, but all I had to do was point to the arm band and they stopped. More to the point, everyone stayed away. No one wanted to catch anything, an in an environment like this, it was already way too difficult to avoid it.
Suited me just fine, I used my pad to look up a few engine improvements I was working on.
"So, you're sick?"
Never mind, Claire defied convention.
"Possibly Claire, I think I'm mainly just sore from yesterday...it was after all, an awful lot of running."
"Hmm, I don't know, you're not out of shape. Probably flu."
I shrugged.
"So what's that?"
She asked, leaning over to look at my display. I increased it so she could see.
"Just main engine improvements. I don't like the current energy to thrust output of the ion drive, so I'm seeing if adding
some solar power, might improve it. At least, now that we have an increase in solar power; the first engineers notes on the subject are sketchy."
"We actually have solar panels?"
"Well yeah, got a small hold full of the old things...seems they were used on our way out of the home system, then pulled
from their mounts. Not sure why, but it could be the risk/reward wasn't deemed worth it. Not enough light, too much risk of breakage. Solar cells are kinda...brittle."
"Weird. Not the brittle thing, I just never thought we used solar cells on the outside."
"the first gen used pretty much everything they could, even explosive propellents."
"Sounds dangerous."
"It was."
We watched the games in companionable silence, I was half distracted with my project, but still saw the entirety of my team's slaughter...without me to run the ball, we got roasted 10 to 28. The tennis was also interesting, and just as cut throat. Lissa was winning till Claire got involved with a snort, taking her turn.
Then they started upping the ante with each other. Reminded me of Roger and myself really, except without the friendship.
"Hey."
I looked over to see Roger, showered and sitting next to me as the girls broke it up.
"Hey. You probably shouldn't sit so close, I'm fairly sure I've caught something."
He made a dismissive noise.
"If you have we will all catch it eventually, no sense worrying about it. You said you have an answer to my problem?"
"Sure. It's not recommended but it'd work. In the event that Oddball goes murderous or something, we can isolate him."
"What? I thought he was throughout the ship?"
"Nah, he is normally, but the interface room is the home of his main brain, centrally located. There is an actual switch
that shunts his functions in that room. Normally hes set to diffuse in case something happens, so he cant 'die'. But...and
this is definitely not recommended; but if you flip the switch and shunt him, then cut the lines you can isolate him.
Run another shunt to a computer of your choice, and all the decisions and code he uses to run the ship are subject to your approval."
"With the problem being...?"
I sighed.
"Problem is that he processes millions of commands or more a day, and not always in codes that we know. So...you'd need someone like me sitting on him constantly to make sure he didn't pull a fast one, and I'm not sure we have another me. Brun maybe."
"I see."
He sighed.
"Well it's a solution. How likely would it be to miss something under those circumstances that would screw us?"
"Sky high, it'd happen eventually. but if Oddball were going crazy, it'd be the only way to stop him."
"I see, well good work, I didn't even know about that shunt."
"Not many do, it's well hidden, but I actually study the ship schematics; my guess is the first gen were just as worried about a Hal moment as my dad is."
"Got one other question."
The buzzer to leave sounded.
"Going to the Commissary, want to come?"
"Yeah sure, a shower can wait."
I wrinkled my nose.
"No it can't man, you stink. Go shower and change, I'll wait."
His mildly offended look made me snicker.
I waited patiently, waving to Claire and ignoring Lissa; knowing Lissa wouldn't be out before Roger took a small load off my mind...no idea at all what she did in there, but it usually took her at least 20 minutes. I made muttered apologies to my team as they left one by one, which they shrugged off with easy grins.
"So, my other question."
I fell into step with Roger as he came out.
"Shoot."
"Does Oddball watch us normally? How much does it know?"
"Yes he does, and he knows basically everything about us. He's forbidden to act outside of certain guidelines, no matter what we do however. Like the happiness clause, keeps him from spacing one of us if we screw up. Obviously death wouldn't make us happy, right? Or anyone else for that matter."
"I see; any exceptions to these guidelines?"
"Wow, my old man really has you into this scenario. Sure, there are exceptions. There is the illness/injury clause, where if enough of us are down to something Oddball has the right to make decisions to ensure the whole survives as best it can, the mental defect clause...."
"Mental defect clause?"
"Yes, in the event that enough of the colony is determined to be mentally ill, Oddball is given special discretion to take
steps for the ensured happiness and health of the colony, upgraded watching powers, special types of psychological techniques, things like that. Not too sure which techniques, not my area of expertise, but I can look into it if you're too lazy."
"Nah, don't bother, I got it."
"You shouldn't worry about it, in the history of the Magellan, none of these emergency clauses have ever been invoked."
We reached the commissary and with a grin, I took off to our latest video addiction. He who starts the race first, wins...
or something like that. Conceding defeat with good grace, he went to get drinks while I started the first round. My gear
was still set up on a corner table, but I didn't worry too much about it...not like anyone would take it.
*************************************************************************
I had much to think about as mouse scrambled off to add to a high score I already had no chance of surpassing. The solution offered was no doubt the best mouse had to offer, but it really wasn't a choice. How could I put all of us in danger to save two people? not just our generation, but our parents, grandparents, and future generations.
Could I even realistically say two people could balance on a scale against the future of our race?
Secondly, mouse had stated outright that Oddball was always watching. Furthermore, it had already activated one of the
emergency clauses listed in passing as granting Oddball the power to activate special measures...after all, ship wide
depression would count as a mental health epidemic, right?
So what was Oddball doing with the diagnosis?
And third, mouse had called Oddball a he. Like every other female on the ship. He had, in fact, been calling Oddball a he the entire time. Did that mean anything?
thoughts chasing each other like mythical dogs do their tails, I handed mouse his drink. He took it gratefully, concentrating on driving one handed and somehow pulling it off, guzzling with his eyes glued to the screen.
He didn't even crash.
He handed the drink off and continued driving, without a word. I watched for a time, and gathered my resolve.
"So, another question for you. You keep calling Oddball a he; I've sort of noticed a trend with some people doing that. Oddball is obviously an 'it."
"Nah, Oddball is a he. He built his body to look at least a little male, was designed by human male designers at least in part, and most importantly identifies himself as a he. Ask him sometime, see if I'm not right."
"Maybe, I'm not sure I care that much."
"Yeah, it's not really a big deal."
I looked over again, taking in mouse's appearance once more. I could clearly see the girl mimicking my friend, bottom lip firmly grasped by her teeth as she maneuvered the wheel in tight movements so unlike my spinning style. Was that really all it took to be a gender? Somehow I couldn't help but feel that while my friend was right after a fashion, more was involved. It couldn't be that simple, could it?
Why couldn't I go one day without feeling as if I'd been left alone in an airlock with no suit and the cycle timer started?
Mouse finally crashed with a slight mou of disgust, and vacated the machine.
"Your turn...assuming you can handle terminal embarrassment."
"You're on, I've been watching you play, think I got the idea now."
I buckled down and focused on blowing off some steam by beating my rival.
********************************************************************************************
My turn to get the water while Roger played, so I did. Couldn't help but smirk watching him try and fumble around driving like I had been, apparently trying to play tag with every road sign the game produced.
"Hey Ralph, two more waters for us please."
"Sure thing, hey been meaning to ask. When is the water treatment plant due? Some of the water we've gotten lately has tasted a bit off."
"I'll be honest, no clue, and I hope not for a long time, since I've been doing every dirty job Oddball can dig up. I'll look into it though. Has the water tested off?"
"No, all in the green, no contaminants diseases or microbes. Otherwise I'd have gone to Cargie directly, well before now."
"OK, I'll look into it tomorrow, alright?"
"Sure, thanks mouse."
I walked the water back with a gracious nod, waiting patiently. While Roger didn't actually crash, his times were well behind mine. It was enough to make me want to challenge him on the space fighter sims again...bet he was rusty.
"Hey man, what's up?"
I turned to see that Seth had snuck up on me, Joe right behind him like a silent hulking shadow, as usual.
"Not much, just watching Roger here screw up big time trying to beat my high score."
Seth rolled his eyes while they sat down. Joe had other ideas.
"I think you should try to beat ours on the EVA sim. After all it's been a month."
It still rankled me somewhat that for all my awesomeness, either Seth or Joe could top me easily in the EVA sims, just as
William beat me in piloting sims.
"Maybe tomorrow, trying to relax here."
"Sure, you're on."
They both looked rather content.
"So what's with the grins, good day?"
"The first day of suit check week. Easy work while the bosses are still breaking down that comet in holding 1."
We had gotten a hold of a small rogue comet a month ago by simply altering course a bit. Oddball had picked it up on sensors and made us aware of it, the command staff had a small debate and decided to pick it up. Seth, Joe, Arnie and Duff (Seth and Joe's bosses) had gone out with shuttle support and corralled the thing, and we dragged it behind us for weeks while they chipped away at it. It was small enough now that the work could be completed in our largest cargo hold, a safer prospect.
"Anything good out of it so far? Haven't been able to keep up, my own shifts have been pretty hectic lately."
Joe spoke up as Seth opened his mouth, earning him a slight glare.
"Nothing unusual, standard dirty snowball. Some good water ice out of it, ammonia traces we have to be careful around, and some good old carbon dioxide. Some trace methane we can use, though not too much. some carbon monoxide, just enough to make us continue to wear suits."
"well the water and c02 are always welcome. Some methane for the old generators and thrusters couldn't hurt. Not a fan of the ammonia, since it requires a lot of prep work to use as anything other than a base fuel...."
"Yeah you and the chemists will have your work cut out for you soon enough."
"Sigh. Oh well, work never ends anyway, might as well be running a few scrubbers."
Roger wrecked, giving me my turn.
"You guys want in?"
"Nah, we'll wait on EVA sim time. We'll be practicing that, waiting on you tomorrow."
They went over to the game machine in question.
Crap, they didn't need the practice to beat me, but I guess they wanted to humiliate me or something. I started my round in the current machine...didn't take long to beat Roger's times, and I one upped him easily.
However, just as the two EVA brothers switched to pool again, I began to feel tired...very tired.
"Hey Rog, feeling pretty tired at the moment. Care to help me take my gear home?"
"Um, sure. Let's go."
He took one look at me and grabbed my deck and light machine, while I grabbed my guitar. Normally I'd object, but I just
didn't feel like it.
Definitely the flu.
I still made it back to my families' quarters, even with the corridors starting to spin slowly. Roger had to help me into my room.
"You are not obviously not well."
"Nope, not at all, might be sick day time. might need to get someone to cover for me."
"Well let's hope not, you did got to the infirmary after all."
"Yeah shots and everything. Just leave the stuff behind the door, thanks. I owe you one."
I collapsed on my bed, barely hearing Roger leave.
(tbc)
I woke up to find my clothes changed and armlet removed. I was placed under the covers and in my pajamas (black with real
stars as seen from earth printed on them, one of my possessions- Brian made them for my last birthday). I was a bit
disconcerted till I remembered it couldn't have been Roger; he had left just before I went under. That left one culprit.
It's fairly embarrassing to have a mother that gives you physicals; she rapidly comes to the conclusion that it's no big deal for her to see you naked whenever she wants.
"Oh, you're awake, good morning."
Speak of the devil...she walked in bearing a a covered tray of tomatoes and pancakes, with orange juice on the side.
"You didn't have to change my clothes mom, I'd have been fine. Oh and good morning."
"Nonsense honey, I couldn't wake you, so I got you comfortable. You'd best reconcile yourself to stayed there a few days, too. Your physical came back positive for the flu as well as general fatigue. So you're off duty and in bed, doctor's orders. No days of you hanging out late, at least for a few days."
She bolted the tray to the floor next to the bed with it's magnetic locks and shook her head, frowning.
"how you caught the flu I don't know, but no doubt you've spread it to everyone by now. So much work, so close to the long sleep."
Her overly dramatic sigh didn't fool me, but discretion is the better part of valor, so I've heard.
"Sorry mom, it was probably a few days ago during sewage tank seal replacements, you know how those go."
Her gentle bonk on the head knocked loose a smile.
"Not just that, it was overwork! I know how you are, you don't take breaks or take things easy. You've got to learn to, it
ruins your immune system. At least it's nothing major this time."
The way her eyes slid from mine as she said the last set my alarms off...mom never lied to me, but there were times she didn't tell me the whole truth. Like now for example. She turned again, skewering me with her eyes.
"At any rate, stay here and rest. I've got to go do my shift. You are being monitored, I'll know if you leave, and there will be consequences. Have a good day son."
I muttered the usual protests as she left, and then promptly fell back. Just moving seemed a chore, and the food would keep. Sleep was only a roll over away.
**************************************************************************************************
So here I was, an almost sleepless night later, standing in front of the captain in the conference room, one of the few
safe places to discuss Oddball without fear. Viktor was on the bridge, it was just us.
"I decided to tell our current doctor."
He started, spinning a bottle my way. I poured a glass full. So he told his wife.
"What's her opinion?"
"She refused to weigh in."
He took another shot himself.
"Oddball has been busy, preparing the ship for the generational transfer...crew included."
"Yes, I noticed. Any idea what that means?"
Good to know he also saw the emergency clause being invoked.
"That Oddball will brook no dissent. It's counterproductive. One of those choices will be implemented on vote day."
We both drained our glasses.
"I'm going to leave the good stuff in here Smitts, you'll need it. It's in that cabinet there."
"I thought that was a display screen."
"Everyone does, otherwise it'd have been cleaned out decades ago."
"Noted sir."
I walked out, having been dismissed. Completing my shift on the bridge was hard. All I had to occupy myself was the field
of stars steadily growing closer, and my thoughts.
"Hey, wake up Rog. Shift change."
I blinked. Had I really been staring into space for hours? According to my pad, I had. It was now exercise time. I did not
feel like exercising, however I knew I had to; I hadn't done much of anything to day, and didn't want to lose muscle.
"Sorry Ron, at least we don't really have anything to do here."
That led to a question; most of what happened as far as flying the ship was all done by Oddball. So why was there even a bridge crew, let alone a constant bridge crew complete with shift changes? Just to keep us humans busy perhaps?
I was going to drive myself crazy.
I hit the showers, for once, Lissa hadn't been waiting to ambush me. A good thing.
"Hey Rog. How's the air up there in the tower?"
I turned to Seth. Sometimes the bridge was referred to as the ivory tower, not sure why or when that started...it was probably a generational thing. Stripping I picked my favorite stall.
"A yawn fest, like normal. No action at all. How goes the ice ball smashing?"
"It goes well, almost done. Take it mouse is sick? you guys normally walk in together."
"Yeah, flu. We'll all likely need shots soon enough."
Joe, Seth's bookend pipped up from the other side of the room.
"Crap happens. Just a shame mouse is down, we're going to get hammered today."
"You never know, another receiver could step up."
"On our team? Good joke there. Oh well, we'll even things up when mouse recovers and it's your turn."
"That's the spirit."
On the way out, dressed and prepped, I passed Eric who was busy giving Seth a murderous look. Wonder what that was all about. Sigh, sure I'll find out later.
Lissa was a mere 2 steps away from the door as it cycled; if not for the usual L shape, she'd have been able to see everything going on. I'm sure my look mirrored Seth's, all short tempered annoyance.
"What's up Lissa? How are the crops?"
her dismissive gesture annoyed me even more, for some reason.
"Oh they're fine, how are you today?"
"Alright I suppose. What's on tap for the girl's side today?"
"More tennis; I assume it's still football for you?"
"Sure is. The guys can't get enough; I'm trying to get them to play basketball, but so far that's a no go."
"Football is rather barbaric. Someone will get injured eventually, even with all the protection."
She all but purred, running a hand along my shoulder pads.
"Probably, well got to go!"
Once on the 'field' I ran to Leif.
"Yeah I know, he messaged me."
"Good."
"You know, one of these days she's going to realize you're playing dumb on purpose and then you're going to die."
"Maybe, but she hasn't yet."
Eric ran up.
"Let's get the carnage started!"
We accommodated him, and the game went much as expected. The final score was 34-10 in our favor, with the other team getting overwhelmed. It was still a good work out however, and that was the important thing. After a shower and the rounds of smack talk that followed, I decided I'd make my way to mouse's to see how he was. The door opened immediately, as I was on the short list of people that could enter with both parents missing.
"Mouse?"
I kept my voice soft in case he was asleep. due to that I could hear a sound from his room, some sort of tone. Something about it...
"Mouse you awake?"
I stood in the doorway; mouse was sleeping peacefully, but his bed was awake. It was emitting the sound I was hearing, and had a slight blue glow. It also had some sort of small armatures on either side of mouse's head. These quickly retracted back into the bed's headboard, and the sound stopped.
"Mouse, you OK?"
He sat up, obviously groggy.
"Roger you bastard, what time is it?"
"Almost five. How are you?"
"I feel a bit better, just hungry. Good, it's still here."
He started shoveling food into his face from the tray next to him. I decided on a little white lie.
"You still look like crap man."
"I still feel it, just less like it than this morning."
I sat there watching her clean the tray. what could I say? Hey mouse, did you know your bed was doing some weird funky thing to your head? For all I know, it was some sort of medical device...I don't remember my own medical training covering it, but I had hardly been trained in everything.
Somehow I didn't think so, however.
"Your team got slaughtered again, though Leif was throwing beautifully."
"Yeah kind of expected that. Oh well, the team will get revenge soon enough. Well since I'm up, I've got some reading to do; you mind?"
"Um, yeah sure. Have fun with that."
He was in a hurry to see me leave and for once, I had bigger concerns than why that was. I left in a hurry.
*****************************************************************************************
As soon as Roger left I flopped back. I didn't feel bad or in pain but...tired and wrung out; my muscles were still sore. Sleep wasn't long in coming back for a rematch, but like before, the dreams were weird; more like memories.
A young me running around the ship, laughing, playing with the various builder's set toys we all used was fairly normal. The fact that I happened to be in a dress however wasn't. I..sort of remembered that day; I was 6 and Claire wanted to play house with Roger and I, and she wouldn't take no for an answer. So I was dressed in one of her few dresses, and played the baby girl.
Not one of my prouder moments, and I remember being a bit angry through out the day...and about the pictures mom took.
The day I could no longer be allowed in the bathroom with mother, and how desolate I felt.
All the plays where I was somehow roped into the female roles, the others citing my small stature as an excuse; me delivering my lines perfectly as the female leads' friend or maid or whatever, while Lissa the leading lady tried to veil her anger.
The time I got into mom's make up, well before the dress incident.
And more of the same, all melding together. Very odd dream, some of these memories I hadn't thought of in forever...so why were they coming to the fore now?
The last one however, was what had me wake up in a cold sweat. It was obviously me, same face, same body. But this person who phased into being in front of my dream eyes like a mirage had vibrant, laughing eyes and an easy smile. She also wore a rather beautiful dress much like one my mother owned, a dark red number that set off her budding curves exceedingly well. Her laughter chased me into consciousness.
"How do you feel honey?"
The vertigo involved in seeing my mom's face a handful of centimeters from mine nearly overwhelmed me for a moment, then it was gone. After all, dream me and mom didn't look anything alike really. I knew how ugly I was.
"Fine mom, hungry again. Still no energy. Otherwise just fine."
"Hmmm."
She gave me another old fashioned check up in silence, daring me to say anything about it. I wasn't stupid.
"Well the lack of energy should pass, you seem fine otherwise. Might even be able to return to work tomorrow. I'm guessing you have the shot to thank for that."
She was all about an ounce of prevention being worth more than a pound of cure. Archaic measurements as I understand it.
Mom replaced trays and gave me a stern 'eat it or else' look. More oranges (must have cost her half her rations for this many)and some carrots, and a big serving of tofu. I wasn't a fan of tofu really, and mom knew it. but it was healthy and filling, so what I liked at the moment didn't matter.
While eating I picked up my pad from where I left it and started working once more on the ion discharge coefficients.
"What are you working on?"
"A way to increase output of the engines. I think I can get a good 10 to 12 percent in raw speed, getting us to the first location a good few months faster. With any luck, you and dad won't need to stay in cryo as long."
She knew me.
"What are the drawbacks?"
"Well with more acceleration comes more braking. Overall it saves time, but I don't think we want it used in system, the we'd spend too much time braking for us to achieve maximum speed. It might actually prove too fast for our sensors, leaving us blind to our front. I'll check that though before I enact the plan."
"See that you do. I have some reading to do myself, I'll be right in the next room should you need me."
"OK mom. I'll call if I need you."
I was torn...I wanted to spend time with her, I did....but what if I could shave a good year or more off the time they all spent in cryo with this? Risk versus reward. Ahh heck with it.
"Mom?"
"Yes honey?"
"There is something I need your help with?"
"what's that honey?"
"Bring your pad in here, I need a butt to kick in Tetris."
My mom, was a Tetris freak. I wasn't much, but she loved it. She burst back in with a big genuine smile. She wasted no time
plugging her pad into mine.
"We'll see. Unless you've improved or I fall asleep, I don't see you beating me."
I didn't, but we had a lot of fun.
(tbc)
I woke to the sound of the alarm, as always. The difference today was, for the first time in my life, I woke up alone. Yesterday, after one last shift my parents had gone into cryo along with the rest of generation 2. Today would be the first day Generation 3 had complete control of the ship, and tonight would see the votes.
I'd made peace with the fact that I wasn't going to make captain, Roger was already leading our generation in all but name. I still couldn't get why I wasn't trusted with it, but I couldn't deny the reality anymore. I was going to be the engineer. No one else wanted the job, and I was smart enough.
Well I could make first officer, but I considered that unlikely. That honor would likely go to Siegfried, a jack of all trades sort who could fill in as needed for just about anyone, if not quite as well as a specialist. I was better at that, but also a much better engineer. I wouldn't trust Seig to tweak the engines at all.
Showered and dressed I headed to my post, taking note of the red lit doors in the habitation ring...the sign of those still sick with whatever I'd caught. There weren't many thankfully enough. As predicted the wave of sickness had passed through, hitting about half of us in total. most were only sick with a mild flu, gone in a day like mine. A few, like Roger and William, had
been hit much harder, the flu causing a fever that went so high we almost lost them both.
I still felt guilty; both had pulled through pretty easily, though in Roger's case, the fever was briefly high enough to cause hallucinations. It also apparently caused some memory loss. Apparently A fever high enough could short circuit short term memory, who knew? He didn't even remember visiting me that day. Luckily, it wasn't anything worse.
I made it to the engineer's station, unable to stop a sigh as I noticed Cargie's tools. Tools were too valuable to pack up, so someone would end up using them. Maybe even myself, but I couldn't help but feel the loss. He had so much more he could have taught me, I was sure.
While today was a slated day off for everyone, officially one of our few holidays, an engineers' work was never done. That and work was a good way of taking my mind off how alone I felt without my parents. I'm sure everyone else was feeling the same. I set the station up to monitor all the processes I could and set the alarms to route to my pad. Then I headed off to do the real job I wouldn't miss a day of, saving death or disaster. Especially now.
I went to check the sleepers.
Sure it was a bit early in the day to do it, but it was really my only duty today, so why not? Our parents were really hardly frozen yet. They had gone into cryo just last night. But still, the check was supposed to be performed daily, and the others had been frozen longer. Then I guessed I could try and convince the EVA crews (Seth and Joe in this case) to check the solar cell mounts to make sure they were intact.
I had wanted to get all that squared earlier, but between the various illnesses of other people and the last minute head cramming sponsored by Cargie I had been busy. It didn't help that The EVA crews were getting the same treatment and were cracking an ice cube as well. Sure it was finally done, and with some nice bonuses gained, but I couldn't get any attention for over a
week! So annoying.
Each cryo tube checked (hours later...it took awhile to personally check each one) I sat in the commissary with the rest of my shift, many of us looking as vaguely shell shocked as I felt. Yesterday as a last goodbye, Cargie had showed me something we all knew he had, but didn't know the location of...his still. He had even handed me his booze recipes. Today the booze that
had been stored in that room was being freely distributed in the commissary; I had brought it all down in a cart and gave it to Marion for today.
It had taken two trips.
"Hey Marion, can I get some of that vodka?"
"Oh is that what that stuff is? Sure."
She passed it over and I took a sip. It was decent, tasting faintly of apple. A cut above the regular stuff Cargie made, which you could clean a ship's hull with.
"Take it easy though mouse, it's still a bit early, don't want to pass out before the votes."
I pointedly took another sip and watched her face harden.
"I'm fine, this is the only one I want for the next couple hours. I'll be stuck playing songs soon enough anyway."
"True. Even the other shift will be here, sleep schedule be damned. Don't think you'll have any choice in the matter."
I watched her hang up various party decorations. they were made of cloth and old, faded and tired looking. They had been packed along with other rare supplies of esoteric nature...when the Magellan first flew out of earth orbit. they had been used for every party situation in one form or another ever since. Many of us had seen at least a few of them every birthday.
"Want help?"
"Nah, my job. Well, pretty sure I'll get tapped for it in any case."
"Well you have my vote in any case."
"Thanks. Can't hurt. Pretty sure no one else really wants the job though."
Hmm, something we shared.
"So, nothing much going on...want to play some pool before the table gets camped by the EVA bunch?"
"Sure."
I woke to the first day of the rest of my life, still having no clue what to do about one of the worst decisions I'd ever face. I certainly had trouble imagining worse. The flu had laid me up for several days, a terrible case that cause me to see plaid bears rampaging through the ship, gumming all before them with cotton teeth. Plus There were two days I couldn't remember.
Ever have that nagging feeling you were forgetting something really important?
I had it on stimulants. The old security footage I saw didn't give me a clue at to what it was either. I'd backtracked all available footage from those days and found nothing. I even asked mouse, and he could find nothing odd either. This morning, like the last several, I shoved it out of my mind. Some morning tea and a roll grabbed on the go, and I was on my way to the bridge.
It may be a day off, an official holiday even, but I wouldn't really be able to celebrate well without knowing how the ship was. If I could celebrate at all in any case. The bridge was empty of course, being run completely on automatic pilot. I routed the various alarms through my pad and sat there, nibbling and thinking. Staring at the slowly revolving star scape was strangely
soothing.
We were on course and our ETA till we hit our target system was still over a year. None of us had ever seen a planet with a naked eye. We'd seen plenty of images of planets, but I doubted it would be the same. It was rather humbling in a way how much and how little humans were needed to run this ship; neither could really run without either, but one side clearly had far less pull than the other. Or was that even true?
Didn't humanity decide the rules by which the colony ships operated in the first place? Oddball didn't decide the population disposition... the people who sent the Magellan into space did. Oddball was only deciding the means by which it happened, and making the crew complicit in it. The solution was well and truly the rock and the hard place.
I couldn't stop the sigh as I left the empty bridge. I knew where everyone would be...misery loves company, and where else to go but the mess hall? I filtered in to find the tired looking decorations already up and most of the new official crew already here... and drinking. How in the hell were they drinking, the stores of booze weren't supposed to be big enough for that anymore. Alcoholic beverages were few and far between anymore.
Certainly not as big as having say, the entire back end of the old bar filled with bottles. All old liquor bottles of various types but with printed labels on them. Written in a sloppy hand I recognized.
"Mouse, what the hell?!?"
"Oh hey Rog. How you doing?"
"I'm a little confused. Cargie made booze?"
His reply was mystifying. He shrugged and slid a small glass my way.
"It's a time honored tradition for the chief engineer to run a still, so I'm told."
I knew there was a still somewhere, we'd have run out of alcohol otherwise. But this amount spoke of a large operation, using ingredients from our food supply.
"Says who?"
"Cargie of course."
"And he showed you where it was? You got all this from his hiding spot?"
Mouse made a show of looking insulted.
"Of course; gave me his recipes and everything."
I loomed over him as best I could.
"Show me."
"No can do Rog. The captain is never to know where the still is. It's one of the rules. And you are front runner to be captain."
Sigh, didn't he understand stills were dangerous? Or was he just a bit angry I was getting the job he wanted?
"Don't get all stuffy on us, just enjoy. It's good stuff, right Marion?"
Marion nodded as I picked up the glass and took a sniff. It was vodka, with a hint of apple, and it went down smoothly.
"Good stuff, Cargie knew what he was doing."
Mouse nodded.
"But you don't I bet and I don't want you blowing yourself up."
A rude snort was my only response.
"Sorry, my dad let Cargie do it, the first captain let their engineers do it. you'll just have to suffer through. However, I can promise you that I'm taking no chances. I won't get blown up, nor will the ship."
I tried to stare a hole in him, but he just downed his own drink with a shrug. Sometimes I wished I was at least a little intimidating. He clapped me on the back.
"Relax, relax! Eat drink and be merry, or something. This is supposed to be a party."
He frowned a bit when Marion sunk the eight ball, winning that round of pool.
"Up 2 to 1 mouse, you're going to get embarrassed today."
"Looks like it. Just can't seem to line a shot like I used to. Too much football maybe."
He racked them up (loser always sets up the next game...an old tradition) and Marion broke.
I shook myself, clearing the image of two young ladies playing pool. Miss mouse was still with me in my head and going strong.
"I've got next game."
"Sure, you get the winner."
Marion grinned.
"That will be me."
It was, so Mouse went back to run the bar for the new arrivals still streaming in while Marion did a pretty credible job of kicking my butt. I turned from Marion sinking the eight ball on me to find Seth already reaching for my cue.
"Tough luck on the 5 man, you almost had her."
"Yeah, maybe. Good luck yourself."
He gave a grin as I moved past.
"Hah, I don't need luck, I run this table."
I vaguely heard Marion give some snide reply, but I was focusing in on a source of trouble. Eric was at the bar, gesticulating wildly with his voice beginning to rise.
"Problem?"
Mouse answered me as Eric quieted, his face a nice purple shade.
"Just manning the bar here. Eric wanted a full bottle of the sour mash, I told him he could have it a glass at a time, like everyone else."
An understandable attitude. Most people here had only a passing familiarity with liquor in any case, never having such a glut of the substance. Seeing this amount of alcohol would certainly encourage someone's worst instincts to binge drink, and Eric was a known troublemaker. Part of the reason I wanted the still, while I couldn't every well take back this booze delivery, I
could prevent future ones.
The other reason is of course, it would be all too easy to use a still once the inevitable happened.
"Just let me have the bottle, it's not like you don't have several."
"Magellan's charter is pretty clear Eric. No hoarding of any resources. Why do you think I brought all this down in the first place?"
A clue, the still is up somewhere, the higher decks. Eric took his glass with poor grace, spilling some liquid across the bar as his face turned apoplectic.
"You fucking bitch. You'll get yours."
Uh oh.
Mouse was across the bar almost before I could grab him, and was twisting in my grip like a live current wire.
"The fuck did you call me?!?"
"No mouse, not today. Kill him tomorrow."
Eric retreated with a mocking laugh. Though he did move rather fast, perhaps not wanting another beating like the last one a few months ago.
"That's it you're cut off you shitbag! Enjoy that last drink!"
Next I knew Marion was at the bar, whispering into Mouse's ear.
"I don't care Marion, hes an asshole."
"Yes he's a cut off asshole, more whiskey will just make him worse. Why he wants to cause trouble now of all times is beyond me."
"He's an animal, and now that the adults are gone he's trying to make himself look big."
I cleared my throat, and they both looked.
"I can let you go now, right?"
"Sure. I won't hospitalize him yet. Going to go get my gear."
"Need help?"
Marion asked beating me to the punch.
"Well I won't turn it down. Rog you got the bar?"
Marion skid behind mouse, pointed to the stash, and winked.
"Sure, I can tend bar. Just be back soon, the natives look restless."
So Marion had more faith in my ability to stop potential issues involving this booze than in hers. Interesting.
Marion walked with me while I cooled off, shooting concerned glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking.
"You're going to have to get over that mouse."
"Oh? not going to let some jackass call me anything he wants without challenge."
"Maybe not, but he's much bigger than you are, and getting bigger all the time. Next time he may beat you."
hmm, possibly but I wouldn't lay odds on it.
"Win or lose, I'll make him bleed."
"Probably, but if he wins what will he do to you?"
I shrugged.
"Likely just beat me up. Not even Eric would likely do worse to someone who services the ship directly."
She said nothing else but her face spoke volumes for her. She really thought the worst of Eric. This would bear some investigation; normally such feelings didn't occur in a vacuum.
"OK here we are."
I let her in and grabbed the heavy deck and computer, letting her take the guitar. Who says chivalry is dead? I snorted; it was only through fairy tales mom read me that I knew what chivalry was.
"you drop that guitar I own your commissary."
"Hah! You want it you can have it."
We made it back and I plugged the deck in in silence, Marion as always watching with interest as I turned the deck on and made sure of the controls and connections. All was set so I fired it up, and launched right into Marion's favorite song, a variation of an ancient piece by a composer named Heidyl.
She danced away rather quickly, a large smile on her face. I caught sight of Roger tending bar; he gave an exaggerated sigh which of course no one could hear. then I promptly got mobbed with requests, and very busy.
It was hours later before I got a break, caused by the old half forgotten screen hidden in the far wall sliding out and securing itself to the wall diagonal to it. Securing itself and monopolizing that corner. With a burst of static (which we could now hear since as soon as I saw the screen I cut the music) the 'face' of Oddball jumped to life upon it. The synthesized voice
burst from the speakers almost painfully before it toned itself down.
"Greetings crew of the Magellan. Tonight in accordance with law and charter, we will now vote for positions on the crew roster. Please vote for those you think best suited for each job."
A bunch of small desks popped out from the far wall, with old dusty curtains dropping down from the ceiling. Pads built into the desks lit up...you could see the faint glow through the curtains.
"Please no electioneering at the polls. Please no demonstrations at the polls. Any attempt to write in an invalid candidate will be uncounted. Please vote as your names are called. Order is random. Thank you."
The first 10 names were called, but none were mine. I pondered how many people knew what electioneering actually was out of my generation while I waited. somehow I doubted it was all that many. I was called in the next wave, and had to thread the crowd. I got into the last booth occupied, and settled in with my body blocking the pad. Some niceties had to be observed.
the vote itself was a series of 50 questions like: 'who is your choice for captain?', one question at a time. I suppressed a sigh as my name didn't come up for captain, instead choosing Roger (I really didn't think Marion would make a good captain, though her name on there was a surprise). I chose Seig for first officer, and abstained for engineer. It was just mine and
Brun's name for that list after all, and it was considered bad form to vote for yourself.
There were few other surprises; Lissa was in charge of hydroponics (a slight surprise), Leif had managed to secure an engineering slot (mechanical, very much a surprise). Other than that the vote was pretty much what I expected. Guido was the only name up for security, Claire was the only real choice for quartermaster (I refused to count Milla, that harpy brown noser friend of Lissa) and Dirk was the obvious choice for medic. It took me less than 10 minutes to breeze through the entire 50 people. After tonight we would all have official positions and ranks.
Of course with the vote done we could now either party or leave. I intended to stay for the results but nothing else. With the ease of long practice, I had everything packed up and ready to go by the time the voters were finished and the results posted. There I was, 3rd down, the new chief engineer with 44 votes. Kind of troubling, I knew I didn't vote for me, but that meant there
were 5 other people with no confidence in my abilities. Roger's vote was unanimous. Of course that meant I could tease him some for voting for himself, but it was still a bit disheartening.
Only other person to get 50 votes for anything was Marion. Lissa by contrast, only got 38 votes to be chief botanist. that was kind of laughable, and the look on her face was priceless. I knew I'd be pulling it up from the security feed later. Well my work was done....
"Warning, emergency vote required. Please report to the cafeteria."
Or maybe not, I and a few others of like temperament stopped filing out, and waited.
"Emergency vote G3N1 concerns a violation of population controls. Please vote for the choice you prefer. Please vote as your names are called. That is all."
Population controls? what? we were at the limit population wise, 50. Unless someone had died or had unlicensed children hidden somewhere, there shouldn't be a vote on population yet.
"Anyone know what's going on?"
lots of murmurs and shaking heads assured me most didn't. Some seemed to have an inkling though. I picked out a likely target and repeated my question to Roger's sister Jennifer.
"Hey Jen, what's going on?"
"I think it has to do with the population disposition mouse. Too many guys."
"What difference would that make exactly? I mean couldn't we just have a few families with a few more children?"
She leveled a mild glare at me for a moment.
"I'm going to assume you're not trying to anger me. To answer your question, I have no idea; but something here smells foul."
Not sure what I said to piss her off I just nodded. I waited with her, and the first ten came out. My name wasn't called yet but I advanced anyway. Lief was in that first ten so I approached him first.
"Hey man, what was the vote about?"
His eyes slid away and I was reminded of the time when he was 8 and ate an entire batch of cookies meant for the all of us by himself.
"Sorry mouse, can't say. You'll be in there soon enough."
Odd. Very odd. I looked at the rest of those who'd just voted.
"Anyone here want to explain to me what is going on?"
They all just stared and fidgeted. What was worse, the ones coming out were doing it too, those that weren't looking guilty as Leif did. They weren't staring at anyone else either that I could see. So somehow this was about me. An emergency population vote about me specifically in some way. Weird, I hadn't killed anyone or anything.
With each successive person called my anxiety ratcheted up another notch. None of them would look at me; at least not the ones who were friends or neutral towards me. Eric was downright insufferably ecstatic when he came out, his large smile almost obscene in context. I was about to pay him a visit when the last 3 people were called all at once. Chen, William, and myself.
I'd long since noticed that when Oddball had a vote that affected someone in particular, the random calls to vote always seemed to include them last. My father had admitted he had noticed as much before, and claimed the reason was to prevent a riot. Hard for the people involved to start trouble if they didn't know what was going on, and afterwards with the situation resolved it was easier to deal with them.
Not sure how that helped here, since I really had nothing in common with either Chen or William as far as I could remember. I shrugged as the crowd parted for me, murmurs blending together to form an unidentifiable white noise, even after I went into the voting booth. I read:
'Emergency vote: population control.
In accordance with Directive 7, all populations of males and females per generation must be equal. To provide stability, happiness, and proper maximized breeding potential in accordance to Magellan's colony charter. For a complete list of Directive 7 and all amendments pertaining to it, please click the link provided.
This vote is necessary to decide a proper course of action in light of Directive 7, as pertains to generation 3. Please vote for one of the choices provided. This vote is anonymous.'
Oh, shit. We had 4 more men than women. I quickly tapped the link. There was an amendment in place for both death by natural causes and accidents...so at least we didn't have to kill our own to make things even if we lost people. Hmm, both were voted on and passed by the previous generation. This seemed like a rather large oversight.
I really didn't want to vote on who had to die. Wait had my own friends voted on my death? That didn't make sense, this had to be a planned vote, why nominate me engineer then space me? Why nominate William our ship's pilot then space him? They may not be the most important jobs on the ship, but ships pilot and chief engineer were important enough not to waste a vote on.
Oddball wouldn't be that inefficient, our names wouldn't even show up. I navigated back to the vote itself, looking for my name.
'Choice 1: liquidation of non-essential crew.
Seth Castillo
Brian Moore
Guido Patrucci
Ronald Simmons'
And there it was, euphemism and all. the death of 4 men, two of which were friends of mine. My name wasn't here, but I could see why people who would vote for this choice wouldn't meet my eyes. A quick bit of mental calculation found those losses to be unacceptable. Just losing Seth alone from a logical standpoint crippled us, and forced one of us to take on double duty in
many situations. I really didn't trust Joe to be able to hang the solar cells on the outside of the ship without Seth for example. and quality of life would suffer greatly without Brian.
'Choice 2: Cryogenic stasis of non-essential crew.
Seth Castillo
Brian Moore
Guido Patrucci
Ronald Simmons'
Well that was a bit better, still left us drastically short, but it at least didn't advocate murder. Pretty much would be the same thing though. While we could afford the loss ('on paper' as the old saying goes) it would be a tough few years. We were already taking over a bit early, not all of us were as cross trained as we should be. Add to that that at least two of those on
the list were some of our cross trained personnel it would set us all back further.
'Choice 3: Conversion of 2 males to females.
Mo'ar Zamir
William Spets
Reginald Crawford'
...Whatthefuck?
I mean really, whatthefuck?
Oddball was talking about making two guys girls? How the hell would that even work? And MY NAME was on this list? A memory hit me from left field, of a saying my mother had when she wanted to get out of a situation she didn't like.
Check, please.
There was always a fourth choice to any vote, added due to something mom called a 'hippie'; a conscientious objection. I clicked it and walked out into stares that seemed to form a physical wall. All of them with passive faces and hard eyes, people I'd known my entire life...and I knew.
"Oh you fucking bastards!"
Will and Reggie closed ranks with me, we had been the last to vote. I headed through the crowd, staring them down or shoving them out of the way if they wouldn't move, the other 2 possible condemned in my wake. I spotted Eric again and my hair thin composure almost snapped...The ass was grinning ear to ear now, so wide I thought the top of his head would fall backwards. I went back to my deck and inhaled the rest of my drink.
To hell with packing up, I was out of here.
The screen flashed with the results before my third step, and the entire rapt audience saw:
-Results-
Choice 3 - 42 votes
Choice 2 - 6 votes
Choice 4 - 2 votes
Choice 1 - 0 votes
-Personnel chosen for choice 3 procedure-
Mo'ar Zamir
William Spets
Thank you for voting!
Then the nice bright white freshly cleaned security droids that Oddball maintained showed up.
The large door cycled, and four of them stepped through, two immediately headed for me and two for Will. There were two standing at attention in the hall. They were designed for riot control, and couldn't be given orders without the captain or security chief unless there were special circumstances. A vote like this was not a special circumstance, emergency or not.
"Please come with us Mo'ar Zamir."
I looked over to see Will was already walking with his new escorts.
"Go to hell, tin can."
They grabbed me by the arms of course, in a perfectly co-ordinated movement that I couldn't quite dodge. My kicks bounced off of course, though I was leaving some nice dents.
"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES, I'LL REMEMBER THIS! FUCK ALL OF YOU!"
Took me a bit to realize I was the one that was raving, most of my focus going towards trying to kick the neck joint of the bots while they held me up. They were weak there, and a good shot could rupture the coolant tubing, cause them to momentarily shut down before the back ups kicked in. I'd have about 3 seconds before they rebooted if I hit them right.
Unfortunately, I realized they were authorized for debilitating force too late...I heard a tazer crackle to life.
(tbc)
My chest hurt. my left arm stung. And most importantly, my crotch ached.
It took some time to come back to consciousness, and remember why that was important. I was surprised that I wasn't restrained in any way, but I didn't really feel like moving much. There was a security bot in the doorway, but it seemed to be inactive. Sleep mode if I had to guess.
Surely Oddball and the crew weren't that stupid, were they?
A shape in the gloom resolved itself into our fearless new captain as he stepped forward, putting his face right in mine. Good old first traitor.
"The cameras and listening devices are off. I know you don't want to see me right now, but you need to hear this. It's done. It's done, but it can be undone just as easily. We just need to find another solution that Oddball will accept, or trick it somehow - and for that I need you. I need you to be clear, and focused. I haven't given up, and neither should you."
His pad beeped and his face transformed with clear rage for a moment.
"Got to go for now, I'll be back. Remember what I said Mouse. As far as I'm concerned this isn't over. Please stay here and rest; recover, don't do anything hasty."
And then he was gone. The security bot activated and came to my side with a squeeze bag of water. I realized how thirsty I was. I also realized how screwed up I was when my clumsy grab for it missed. Instead I had to suffer further indignity as the bot held on to the container, easing the straw past my lips then giving it a mild squeeze.
At least I didn't choke. I could only assume I was still drugged, but it seemed a light, ephemeral presence; barely impacting my thoughts at all. Instead it brought dizziness and a mild lassitude. Which meant It'd be almost impossible to stand for the time being, let alone walk. So I focused on moving my muscles, one twitch at a time. They all worked, and fairly soon I was getting them to work in sequence.
Once that was done I sat up; ignoring the security bot that suddenly cycled active. My pad chronometer told me I'd been out just under 27 hours. It was 3pm, the day after surgery. Physically I should be near enough to healed to leave, as long as I took it easy; too much walking and the nano machines may not be able to keep the knitting tissues together. I should probably wait till tomorrow to do anything, at which point I'd be cleared for active duty again and scheduled to be back on the job.
Of course, that's what they expected me to do, which is why I wouldn't. Proper study would be key. The security bot standing sentry was number 20. Each ship had berth for 100 security drones, controlled by the ship's AI and deployed in times of strife, with consent of the captain, first officer, doctor and engineer, depending on the situation. On our ship units 5 and 14 had been destroyed, unit 5 when it attempted to interrupt some party of the first gen's and got shot up with weapons for it's trouble (the weapons had of course since been confiscated) and unit 14 when a small piece of debris managed to get through 3 hulls and hole it's armor clean through. That one was still a very available display on the dangers of space.
Oddball could of course manufacture new ones, but with 98 in various degrees of full operation, there was no need. But the number of course, was important. Usually 20 were needed to guard the most sensitive areas of the ship, one per location or picked choke point (like the gate to the manufacturing sector). They were always deployed number first for some reason, and not by distance (the closest one being sent). That there was one here, and the number, indicated that there were at least 18 deployed security bots. This one would be medical's which meant that all the other sensitive spots were also watched.
It's almost like Oddball expected trouble. Citizens armed with torches and pitchforks, to slay the monster? Great movie. Unfortunately all I heard was silence. I still remembered enough of last night (or the night before, I guess it is now) to know that a clear majority of my loving crew had decided against me. All of them calm and collected, voting ahead of me, showing not a glimpse of what was in their traitorous minds. Our supposed leader was right about one thing though; this could be undone.
Now, what did I have to work with?
Precious little had been left in my reach; I wasn't restrained, which boggled my mind. Surely they didn't think that I'd be docile just like that? A show of force, a casual ruiniation of two lives, and I'd be good? Or had they just made their vote and left all the details up to Oddball? Probably the latter, but either way, no makeshift weapons or useful chemicals were in range; all lay beyond the security bot.
They had however, made another mistake. They had left my personal pad here. All I needed was a bit of time.
***************************************************
Why had I ever wanted to be captain? why would anyone? It was the worst job on the ship; it had to be. All day yesterday spent fielding status reports, assigning temporary engineers ( It took four to do mouse's job when he... damn it, she wasn't available, on the first day!) helping form the petition with Claire and Seth to get Oddball to discuss alternatives, claiming the solution chosen would be damaging to morale.
And most importantly, wondering why fewer than a dozen people all told cared about how a human crew member was just railroaded. William was taking the entire thing in stride, with a fatalism one could expect of a prisoner about to be executed for a crime. He... err, she wouldn't even sign the petition.
The ship was of course, still running. All the crew was accounted for at their various jobs or asleep. No major incidents had occured, and even though the security bots were out in force for the first time in years, it all seemed to be business as usual. And yet, at the same time, it seemed to me that many were waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was of course waiting
in the best way possible; with aged liqour to keep me company.
I'd have to watch out, lest I become a drunkard. Then again that might seem preferable to facing all this sober. Seig was with me, lending silent support. Neither of us had been responsible for the security bot presence; Oddball had made the call on his own, citing psychological and morale reasons. When we had both objected, Oddball said he had obtained the permission of Dirk as resident doctor.
Apparently Dirk had been so drunk that at the party, when Oddball came to him he just said "Sure." I had just watched the video footage. The problem was that now that security was called out, until Oddball declared the emergency over, we had no way of recalling them. An oversight of our ancestors we were dearly paying for. Perhaps I should compile a list of those. that might even be a better use of my time.
"Well? Any ideas?"
I ran my hands through my hair, a nervous habit I never admitted to possessing.
"Not a one seig. I feel like there is something I'm not quite catching, but I'm too stressed and angry to care."
"Not to mention drunk." Seig chimed in.
"Not to mention drunk. So what was the work order today?"
I'd had Seig fill in for mouse yesterday and today; the results were surprising.
"Checking the battery cells on deck 3. Literally grunt work."
Yesterday it was checking the oxygen fill levels in the spare tanks in storage, and checking them for faults and leaks. Both jobs were something almost any of us could do blindfolded. I'd checked the logs for weeks before; the older jobs were the ones you really wanted a good engineer for. Seig was competent, but he'd never be Mouse.
It was almost as if Oddball had anticipated downtime by it's chief engineer. Or maybe it had been planning for both options, both vote outcomes.
I do think the crew petition for alternatives surprised it. It hadn't answered any texts sent it yet, except in the automated 'I've received your message and will get back to you' sense. what surprised me was how few people have so far signed the petition, and how little outrage there is. A crew member was altered against their will, mutilated. security bots roam the halls in a clear violation of the rights of the crew.
And it looked like so very many people were willing to accept it, as long as it didn't directly affect them.
My pad chimed; a security alert. The perfect height of my day. I checked it as it blurred, my eyes focusing as if I were drunk. Small wonder that, I was. Then I saw where the alert was, and understood how a person could be said to 'sober up instantly'. It was Mouse's living quarters. Not the infirmary, which still showed all three occupants (Mouse in bed sleeping, Dirk in the medication mixing room reading, and the security bot standing sentinel in an unusual place - in front of Mouse's room.) but the actual living quarters of our chief engineer. A guy just couldn't catch a break.
"Seig you have the bridge!"
He looked up in wonderment as I blurred past; he was well past any thought of moving. I'm sure I set records, feet pounding loudly on the deck plates, taking foolish chances jumping stairs rather than taking the elevators. I had to beat the freshly reawakened security bot number 23 and 24 to the scene; with a security alert declared Oddball could send two bots to the scene of the alert, assuming it to be a crime.
Of course it had to be a crime - breaking and entering with possible looting, to be exact; since only Mouse or I had access to his... ugh, her rooms. The hacking was the most serious part of the offense, the rooms were all coded by our nanite marker, with access granted to those we chose. For someone who had permission, there would be no need to set off the alarm; they could walk right in at any time. For those without, the door wouldn't just open for them, they had to short the door controls or something.
which would set off the alarm, but they would know that. There are very few secrets on a ship. Which of course made no sense. I arrived, breathless, to see a closed door with the tamper resistant panel intact. That was even more curious. I walked closer and the door opened with a whisper, clearly in perfect working order. The lights clicked on as I entered, showing the living room. All was in place, the real valuables would be in the bedrooms of course.
Things like clothes or small wooden items. Stuff that couldn't be reproduced easily, or at all. The security bots arrived as I made it to the first door of interest. The bedroom of Mouse's parents. They stayed outside to my surprise, letting me do the work. It also opened easily, and appeared to be clean and untouched. The bathroom was where I first saw signs of theft; a highly prized toothpaste dispenser was missing, along with it's full complement of paste. There were only two toothbrushes in the case, and a small first aid kit was also missing, the outline of where it sat ever so faintly visible against the tile.
Ahh, crap. Crap crap crap.
I checked my pad again, looking at all the data from the alert that led me here. Something had set off the quarters' motion sensor - something that had not gone through the door, and had no nanite marker presence in the system. Only one person could pull off such a hack job, and I should have expected it. Mouse had looped the camera feeds and somehow turned made her way in here. Through the vents of course, had to be.
To be sure I checked her room. Normally it was a controlled chaos, with everything sort of jammed in containers at whim. I saw the difference right away; several containers that normally held small tools and electrical components were missing, as well as more than a few old experiments and machines. A few drawers of the bureau were empty as well, and the main vent cowling to the room was bent and hanging from the wall by one screw.
I had to applaud her even as I cursed her; only a few of us, and not a single security bot could follow her in there. There were no cameras or microphones either. There were ways to track a person in there (by heat or nanite marker) but it was unlikely we could find her in that maze. After all, she was the only crew member awake that knew it all. The security bots
must have caught on, cause the supposedly live feed on my pad that showed Mouse asleep changed to show an empty bed, the hapless bot standing guard none the wiser.
Neither was Dirk; I'd have to have words with him about that. He should be just a little more observant when he had a patient, instead of just reading away without a care. In fact that seemed like a good start. I left the bots behind, not bothering to inform them of my intent. They seemed content with 'securing the crime scene', posting themselves outside in the
corridor.
(tbc).
And here we are again. Quick, there is something behind you! I think it's that chapter you wanted! It's coming right for you!
*screams and runs away*
Copyright Nagrij 2014.
Of course as I was pulling myself along the various vent junctions with my ill gotten gains, I felt something tear. Almost immediately I felt a bit of wetness between my legs; I wasn't sure whether to hope it was blood or not. I'd already been crawling around for what seemed like forever; I'd had to sabatoge a few systems that could be used to track me before I could properly go to ground.
The first was the tracking system designed to find and pinpoint any foreign life - foreign being any life that was growing or inhabiting regions it was not meant to. Like algae in our seage treatment tanks, rather than just mixed into our water supply. Mice were a huge problem for the first generation, I was told... another good example. Either one can spell a nice creeping doom, as the pernicious life could clog valves or chew wiring. It worked by tracking and catalogueing the gaseous and other secretions all life left behind, and comparing such things against what should be coming from a given location.
With just a modification or two, it could be used to pinpoint the location of any human outside the habitation deck with ease. The first solution of course would be to stay in the habitation deck... but they would think of that and run down any activity in unassigned apartments. When I was a child however, I was told something by my father - "Be prepared." I think it was a motto of some group or other. So when my crew decided to betray me, an occurence whose chances I put right behind main drive failure and us meeting a free roaming blackhole with no warning, I was still ready.
A little virus worked into the definition software of the first system, and anything with my nanite marker profile was now no longer considered a life form, and any data on my emissions (carbon dioxide, dead skin cells, etcetera) was promptly ignored and deleted from the system before it could be catalogued. I'd originally designed this little beauty of code after watching an all night movie marathon - thought it would come in handy in case of alien attack.
The second system was the nanite marker system itself; designed specifically to track us humans, it needed no modifications to do it's job. I could not mask the nanites from the scanners designed to pick them up, and destroying them meant fatally heavy doses of radiation. But there was more than one way to handle things like this.
Mine was to set up another virus to spoof the scanners; quite simply, if queried, all the scanners on the ship would report positives. Oddball was my worry. Even our best computer techs (aside from myself of course) couldn't handle my work. I was confident of that. The issue was Oddball, who could crush any and all types of software attacks with ease. So... I set both programs up to be self replicating, and then set up a standard pad I'd yanked with me from medical to also self replicate the programs. Simple work then to patch the pad into one of the hard lines that composed our network, using my standard emergency engineer tools.
With the pad taped into place so it wouldn't dislodge itself, and my own pad reporting to me that the programs were working, I was finally able to see to myself. The was less blood than I expected. The syringe of emergency surgical nanites should be enough to fix whatever problem I exacerbaited with all the moving around. With a little food and rest, I'd be fine.
Relatively speaking.
********
I sighed. Of course we can't find her; she's smarter than all of us.
"This damn thing is useless!"
I wearily stepped up and grabbed Siegfried's hand before he could throw the handheld scanner into the wall. We'd been searching for hours in co-ordination with the bridge, but whatever was making all the false positives on the ship wide sensors was doing it to the handhelds too.
"We're going to have to keep going Seig, she's a danger if we leave her alone."
He blew a wooshing breath.
"But Rog, man, you know how Mouse can hide. If neither systems are going to be of any use in tracking her...."
"Then we'll just have to come up with a new way."
I did not want to be here, referring to my best friend as a she and trying to track her down and medicate her so she didn't kill us all. I did not want to be anywhere near this situation. I really just wanted to go home, get drunk, and wait for the ship to explode.
What was funny is, for the most part, it was business as usual among everyone else. Only a few other people even seemed concerned that we had a possibly homicidal or suicidal engineer smarter than all of us put together, loose to wreak havoc. The notable exceptions still acted the same, but you could see it lurking in the back of their eyes, their tight expressions.
Fear.
All of them of course, being friends of Mouse, who knew how vindictive she could be. The one notable exception of course was currently headed our way, teamed up with her best friend Marion, as regulations dictated when dealing with security breaches.
"Find anything Claire?"
"No, nothing at her old haunts. At least the ones I know about. Mary knew a few more, and those were empty too."
Of course it wouldn't be that easy. Even drugged out of her mind she wouldn't make that simple a mistake. I wonder how she can hack the system as well as she has while drugged, for that matter. Niether Seig nor I could even tell where the programs were coming from, let alone unravel them. And Oddball was oddly silent - the only answer I could get from it in regards to the network attacks were that they were 'being investigated.'
Call me suspicious, but I had the feeling that Oddball was not doing everything it could to track down our wayward crew member. I also had the feeling that the headaches of the last two weeks were just the start.
"Well, no help for it. We're going to have to check every place connected to the vents that she could hide... visually."
Seig, Claire and Mary all stared at me, slack jawed. Hey. I knew it was hopeless too! But better to try and get lucky than just let her run around loose. Or possibly die alone and forgotten from aggravating her wounds. She wasn't even supposed to be moving at all until tomorrow.
"Rog, that has to be thousands of spots."
My money was on high tens of thousands, actually.
"I know Seig, if you have a better way, I'm all ears."
His sigh was a long suffering one. He looked at me, the question obvious in his eyes.
Is she really worth doing all this for? Won't this blow over on it's own?
I shook my head at him minutely. No this won't blow over. Yes she's dangerous. He sighed again, a bit more softly this time.
"We're going to need more people. And schematics. Plenty of ship schematics."
"You get as many as you can from the cafeteria, and I'll round up the people that aren't busy but aren't there. We can organize by pad. Remember, teams of two... I don't expect Mouse to get violent, but let's not take the chance."
I really didn't expect Mouse to get violent... at least not yet. Give her about two days.
******
I woke up fairly refreshed but famished; the nanite IV was doing it's job. I felt no pain, and no lingering drug effects. The portable scanner I'd swiped from the infirmary earlier found nothing in my bloodwork and no anomalies... well aside from the obvious again. my pad indicated that just over nine hours had passed, Which meant that it was time to move. I had great faith in my hiding spot, but no sense getting too comfortable then getting found.
My pad could scan for other people in the same way they could have scanned for me if I hadn't taken steps. They obviously had not thought of taking steps of their own, because I could find everyone in minutes. Many of them were in twos, wandering the corridors, stopping at vent and engineer tube accesses periodically. Kind of touching in a way, if I didn't know they were doing it to cover and protect their own traitorous asses.
None of them were even close to me yet. They hadn't even started checking the zero G areas yet. Perhaps they assumed I couldn't or wouldn't crawl that far? Recovering in zero G was actually very relaxing for the body, as long as you didn't bounce yourself off anything hard. Gravity added to stress on the body after all. whether humanity was adapted for it or not.
No real concern of mine either way. They weren't close to my current bolthole, and they weren't between me and hydroponics, another rather large mistake in my opinion. While the kitchen and rather large pantry had two people there along with a security bot, and the quartermaster's warehouses and storage had the same, hydroponics only had a lone security bot and one patrolling worker, probably the night shift botonist. I didn't even care who it was, it was one person covering a farm full of fresh produce built for 60. No way could they catch me, unless I fell asleep mid hiest.
Maybe they thought I wouldn't dare; after all it is the source of all we eat. It's sacred in a way. But that's just silly; a terrible blind spot in their thinking. Think I'll educate them to it. Some cord, a simple pulley, a pocketknife (always useful) and a few other supplies that fit in my pockets and I was on my way.
Liberating some tomatos, radishes, spinach and lettuce made for a good salad. I made sure I had enough of that and the rice for days, because I want the theft to be found. Between this and the standard vitamins, I'd be fine. They would notice the food missing right away, but it was doubtful they would notice the seeds. And through it all of course, not a single soul was seen. The glorified toaster (wonder what a toaster was? Some esoteric techie device I was told from the source when I picked that phrase up) never left the hatchway.
Of course, since it didn't see me, and was patched in to the same network Oddone was in, it believed I was everywhere already, or nowhere. So unless I gave it cause to look around, like vast amounts of noise or an alarm, it was effectively paralyzed. Eating my catch I headed back into the vents with the seeds, passing over a silent, haunted looking patrol consisting of a rather haunted looking Mary, and pinched looking but somehow still nonchalant looking Claire. They both looked tired.
Of course, it was near their bedtime. I had to wait as they passed of course, to be quiet as my namesake. They could summon help and have this section of hidden highway taken apart at both ends before I could get away, should they have reason to believe I was there. That was something to fear - if my opposition had been handling this like they could have. They should already know where I was going, at least for now. The one oath I took above all others; if Roger was thinking, he'd have the ambush set up.
According to my pad, which still clearly showed Mary and Claire walking down the corridor far behind me, and several other crew at their various stations in range, he didn't. My brains told me that if he was thinking at all, this would be where he'd blank out all evidence of a few burly crew and wait. My recently reworked gut was telling me that I could walk right in without fear of reprisal.
There was no reason to ignore one over the other; no cause. So I stayed in the vents, squeezed through the vent just beside the hatch, and found myself above the sleepers.
There were plenty of places to hide here; a bit morbid, but this was one of the best rooms for hide and seek. Almost every cryo tube had a nook behind it even the largest adult could cram into without affecting the works. Most wouldn't dare, but kids are a different breed - young and fearless. Nowadays I understood why the adults would drag us out of here after we played and dispense some rather iron handed discipline. We never had caused the accident the second gen had so dreaded however. In later years it was one of the best places to be alone.
Now, my gut was insisting, through the experience of long hours spent here for just that purpose, that the place was empty. A half hour later the place still appeared clear, so it was time to listen. My drop down was silent but not exactly painless, and done right in front of my parents.
I sat in front of them, staring into each in turn. Had they known? They almost had to have known. If they had, why? Why not say something, why not warn me, let me help fix the problem?
Did they really think there was no solution?
It was obvious that Roger had at least hinted at the issue and sought my help, but why not just tell me outright what the outcome would be? I'd had no idea, and would have worked on it a bit (ok, much much) harder had I been told. I turned a few tubes down to my former boss. Had he known? I bet he'd had at least some suspicions, but all my memories indicated he knew nothing.
Going from one tube to the next, I pondered.
The alarm I'd set on my pad was entirely too loud. I hushed it quickly and was into the vents before anyone (or the toaster)could come and investigate. Even with the grate replaced I knew Roger would know I was here. Even if it wasn't possible to leave
prints in the collected ice in the tomb, he'd remember as soon as the alarm was raised how much the place meant to me. Luckily the way I was heading out was much faster than the way I took going in - allowing the gravity to let me 'fall' towards the outside of the ship. Not without it's dangers, but what did I care about getting hurt at the moment?
I had my answer. It had taken hours of staring in the dark, but I now knew. I couldn't do what I really wanted and destroy a ship full of traitors, anger or no. Many of the frozen, at the very least, were innocent of this crime and I had taken an oath to protect them and the ship. That same oath compelled me against murder, as leaving the ship drastically shorthanded would lead to it's demise. Also what if I killed one of them and got someone else condemned to my situation? Besides, I was better than that - better than they were.
I could feel the grin stretch my lips ear to ear, and even my back teeth caught some of the breeze. I felt downright feral; unstoppable. Everything else was on the table; I was only human after all.
(tbc)
The day cycle began innocently enough. Almost pleasant, in a way. Despite the fact that I was now alone in what were now my exclusive quarters aboard the ship, the silence was almost soothing. Some time to release the straps that held me in bed (should the gravity fail) and I was out, flipping out of the bed in as flashy a manner as possible.
A quick stretch later and I went looking for my stimulant of choice, an old soft drink recipe of choice known as 'coke'. I was pretty much the only one on the ship that liked it, so my few chemical ramblings were mostly attempts to reproduce it via artificial means.
The current concoction, I felt, was close. I couldn't be sure however, since I'd never tasted the real thing. Roger Smitt was never one to let a small thing like that stop him though.
The security drone standing just inside his living room however, brought certain facts crashing home, even this early. Even as captain, I wasn't fully in control... yet.
I wasn't sure he wanted to be, either.
Oddball suspected my friend... my best friend... of wishing to do me bodily harm. I was a “Very important person to ship operations and morale”, to quote the blasted device. I wanted to believe it wrong, wanted that more than anything. But I wasn't so sure anymore.
Mouse would even be well within her rights, in my opinion. However, as captain, I had to try and keep the ship from flying apart, either figuratively... or literally. Which meant finding mouse, as soon as possible, and either talking her down or.....
Or what? What could we really do? They needed her, now more than ever. With Oddball acting more screwed up than even the last generation could remember (I had asked before they were frozen) they needed Mouse to come up with a solution for the biggest crisis for the continuation of the species since the actual destruction of the earth itself.
I downed my concoction and dressed quickly; I just knew I'd have a busy day. A busy, hectic, horrible day. The way I saw it, there were three options for what was going to happen. The first, and the most unlikely, was that Mouse was now suicidal and would kill us all. The Mouse I knew had too strong a love of life and sense of duty for our mission to do that.
The next, and the most likely in my opinion, was that Mouse would selectively kill or freeze certain members of the crew before revealing herself and towing the party line, removing those she saw as her enemies and then settling in to ship life.
She was too valuable to kill, but if she killed anyone, no matter the cause, I would see her pay for it for the rest of her existence.
The last option I saw was her simply staying gone for weeks, or months, and then rejoining the crew. I didn't put much chance of that, but more than the first. She was very angry, after all. While I could see her sabotaging Oddball in my fondest dreams, I knew there would be some sort of retaliation for this.
It turns out she thought of a fourth option.
“Roger?!? Roger? Captain, can you send maintenance to my quarters, please?”
Lissa.
“Sure, what's the problem?”
“Nothing! Just a bit of a mess I'll need help with.”
“Spill, Lissa. What happened?”
“My waste hose from my toilet was rerouted... then reversed somehow. I don't even understand how, I mean, it's a gravity feed, right? How could anyone....”
And now that the reticence had broken she was off, talking a mile a minute. Mouse. It had to be Mouse, and Lissa knew it too.
“On my way.”
“What? No! Can't you just send maintenance or something?”
“You know I can't Lissa; it's pretty obvious Mouse was there, and we need to at least investigate for clues. Just wait there, a team is on the way.”
“But....”
“No buts. Sit tight, and don't touch anything. We are on the way.”
She really didn't want me there. I wondered how bad the damage was. For her to not want me there seemed to shove this sabotage more into the embarrassment category than dangerous. Otherwise she'd be screaming her head off for a security detachment. I clicked my pad.
“Seth, respond.”
“Sup, captain?”
“Need you to grab Joe and meet me in front of Lissa's quarters with your bio-hazard gear and supplies.”
“Sure, but why?”
“I'd think that would be obvious. Now, Seth.”
“On the way, boss. I'll bring you a suit too.”
My drone escort was of course, following me, which meant that Oddball had heard all. No idea what it was thinking, and I wasn't going to ask. We will settle this ourselves. Asking Oddball for thoughts or ideas would be a terrible decision.
One step into Lissa's quarters almost made me reconsider. My boots squelched, rather than impact the standard gravity plating. I stopped.
“Lissa?”
“In here.”
Entering her bedroom, the first thing that hit me was the smell. The pure stench of waste and treatment chemicals used to break said waste down melted the hair in my nose. I swore I could hear them sizzle. The waste hose was more than in Lissa's quarters, it was in her bunk, having been extended from the bathroom.
From the look of her, she had not woke immediately after the back-flow process started. She was literally caked with the... stuff. I wanted to laugh, but I didn't like what this stunt said about our security.
While it was true the head botanist did not rate the same security as a captain, I should have foreseen this.
Well that's not true, I had. I had in fact anticipated Mouse sneaking into Lissa's quarters through the vents and murdering her in her sleep. Yet I hadn't ordered a full security lock-down of personnel quarters.
I didn't want Oddball to roll out more security drones, and have even more resources to use against us. So this was clearly my fault, and I had to make good.
“Yo boss, we're here, what's...whoa.”
“Don't come in, you jerks!”
“Sorry your highness, unless you want to clean all this up yourself, I recommend you drop the attitude. We have the suits and the goods. Boss, those boots of yours got to go. Same with you Lissa, strip the nightie. Some of these chemicals are caustic.”
“I'll... just go take a shower.”
“Good idea. Use plenty of soap.”
“You think I wouldn't?”
“No I mean it, the entire tube. I'll authorize more; this is essentially a hazardous materials spill. And go now.”
She only waited long enough to grab some fresh clothes which thankfully enough, had been left alone. That left the rest of us to wade through the small pond of waste. The bedding was a complete loss. The bed might be too, for all I knew. As for me, I sprayed my boots with a solution Joe handed me (so quiet I only dimly registered his presence) and then suited up to help.
Of course, no sooner had I put the gloves on when my pad chimed.
“Captain, this is Carla, can you come to the farm please?”
The farm was the other name we had for hydroponics, and with Lissa here, Carla was on duty there.
“Is it important Carla?”
“I wouldn't call if it wasn't. I know you're busy.”
“Sorry Seth, duty calls.”
I was apologetic for a reason; I was responsible, so I should be here cleaning up this mess.
“It's no problem boss, we got this.”
“I want you to relocate Lissa to berth 14. That way if you need to, clean up can wait. You can just help her move and spray the place with neutral decontaminates.”
Berth 14 was closer to my own quarters, but I'd take the added headache in order to make the statement.
“Gotcha boss.”
From the bathroom came a shrill scream. I as at the door and overriding it when Lissa spoke:
“No, don't come in! Everything's fine!”
“Lissa, what happened?”
“The hot and cold water is rerouted. That little....”
I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the rest of that. I turned to Seth, who was struggling to keep a straight face. Joe behind him had abandoned that idea entirely, and was instead chuckling near silently.
“Not a word you two. Just... just help her move.”
And then I was off to the next disaster.
….......................................................................................................................................
I watched from my monitor, nursing my poor mutilated body. Mostly healed or not, laughing hurt like no other pain I'd ever felt; I was grateful I had some pain medication to take the edge off, or I'd be completely sidelined.
The view of Lissa drenched in waste however, frozen on my monitor while trying to talk to Roger, was priceless. The look on her face! I'd treasure it forever. And the shower afterwords... well, almost worth all that's happened.
But not really, of course.
I did feel kind of bad for Seth and Joe getting stuck on clean up, but they deserved it too; they were lucky I didn't do more to them. I still might. And dear Roger, traitor in chief, had another fire to put out. Hmmm, fire, that gave me another idea. Something to put into motion right after the pain caused by the laughter went away.
Besides, the feed from hydroponics wouldn't be nearly as entertaining.
…...................................................................................................................................
Carla had wonderful news for me. It seems that Mouse had made her way past the guards, and managed to steal several plants. Not just the fruit, or the vegetables, the plants themselves. As an engineer, that and the tablets she'd stolen from medical made her self sustaining from just about anywhere on the ship.
But in order to continue to grow the plants, she would need certain things. I did not want to do this, but duty is heavier than a mountain, so an Earther said once. No truer words.
“Oddball.”
“Yes Captain Smitt?”
“Do you still have a drone at chemical and storage?”
“Yes Captain Smitt.”
“Are they outside the door?”
“Yes Captain Smitt.”
“Move them inside; the shift personnel can watch the outside, and there is a chance Mouse hasn't picked up the chemicals needed to sustain the plants. Up the alert for them too, have them long any life signals. It could be Mouse is masking herself from sensors as one of us somehow.”
“That is very unlikely.”
“Just do it Oddball. We can't afford to take chances here. Captain out.”
I turned to Carla.
“You keep the mix for the chemical baths on site, don't you?”
“Yes, but I don't think she could....”
“I know, it's highly unlikely she could haul it off in her current condition...but inventory it anyway. Then lock it up. Requisition one of the old padlocks from Claire, the kind with the combination, not the key kind.”
“Alright, consider it done.”
That handled, I headed back to the habitation wing. Seth was waiting for me alone, but Lissa had presumably already moved into 14. Seth read my expression.
“Yeah she's mostly moved boss. I sent Joe to find out what Mouse did to the waste management system, since you said we could take our time cleaning up. I was just about to put the hazard warnings out.”
I helped him paste the plastic bio hazard signs on the door. No one other than myself or Lisa could enter anyway (at least without squeezing through a vent) so it was just a precaution. I hoped it wouldn't become a harbinger of things to come.
“OK so here's what we got. You know how the treatment system works, right? There is a collection tank at the far end of habitation here' he showed me on his pad, which had the schematics pulled up 'working on a three day cycle. It holds everything for three days, mixing and breaking it down, then pumps it to the primary collection/compost while removing all the toxic of flammable gasses, and pumping them to other tanks.”
“Right.”
“well, she bypassed the hose just past the vacuum pump here, and re-routed it straight into Lissa's toilet hose. So when the timer tripped, she got it all. Everything for the past three days, and the chemicals used to break it all down. It was the matter of maybe 10 minutes with a wrench. To be honest, I'm surprised the hose could take that kind of load; it should have been springing leaks all over the place, but Joe said it was solid.”
“That pump and containment tank are in zero-g, right?”
“Sure are.”
Damn it Mouse, that's pretty sneaky.
“We need to focus our scans there then; chances are she's still in one of those areas.”
“I'd agree. It's an ideal place to hang out and heal up.”
“Not really, it can have detrimental long term effects on her, healing up with no gravitational pressure.”
“It can?”
“Picture veins and arteries sewn back together healing with less thickness than before, then rupturing once she returns to regular activity in normal gravity.”
“Oh, ouch.”
“Yes, ouch. We need to find her. You know any of her old haunts?”
Seth shook his head.
“You know Mouse, there were places she never let anyone into. Her hiding places were one of them. You likely know more of them than I do.”
He spoke again to forestall my objection.
“I'll think on it, I will. But don't wait for me. I'll also get Joe on it. He sees more than he lets on, sometimes. People tend to forget he's there.”
My guess was he liked it like that.
“Siegfried, Guido, I've got a job for you.”
“What do you need Captain? And you going to come relieve me on the bridge?”
“Yes, but you aren't getting any sleep yet. I'll make it up to you later. I need you and Guido to passkey through all the quarters used in the habitation wing and seal the vents.”
“What was that, Captain?”
“Yes you heard right; I don't care if you have to weld them shut, seal them. Ideally so well they can resist outside entry, but it not rig it so they make enough noise to raise the dead. Every single one.”
His sigh was loud, even across the pad speaker.
“Understood Captain. Guido, you heard?”
“Yes, Sieg; already gathering the tools for it... two sets.”
“I'll meet you there.”
That should help. If we sealed the vents it should limit her choices. We couldn't entirely seal the access tubes, but I was sorely tempted. But going through the tubes then sealing them behind us with motion detectors or more permanent means, should be enough. If we sealed all the vents first.
Every single one. What a mess.
….........................................................................................................................................
I nodded to myself; Roger was finally getting serious. About time, really. I'd have said he was too soft, but he had after all, voted to mutilate his best friend on the advice of an insane AI.
I rose a bit from where I had my makeshift surveillance suite. It was time for medication and lunch, in that order. The closing of the vents didn't worry me too much, as I had expected that. I had thought I would have more time, but this didn't affect my plans much.
The throw-away pad (Lissa's old one, she hadn't missed it yet, and how she rated more than one I didn't know) was busy hacking into the social event files. Soon I'd know who voted for me, and who against. My own pad was a nice diversion, should the traitors ever get that far. But I had other back ups.
Next up was Claire. I thought we were friends once, but no longer. And if we were not friends, we were enemies. And enemies got the angry engineer treatment, until I felt a little less angry. It had to happen sometime, right?
Maybe by the time we were due to be frozen. Until then, let the games begin, Captain traitor. Catch me if you can.
….........................................................................................................................................
Sieg had to sleep sometime, and that time came four hours later; I couldn't see making him pull his shift tonight without something. So I took over, with just over half the vents in the habitation wing sealed.
I looked in on the last one they did, it was both welded (a rush job, it looked mildly awful, though that could be simply due to Sieg being tired) and dotted with motion detectors set to trigger a siren should the vent or sensor be moved in any way.
Guido believed in being thorough.
“Alright Sieg, get some sleep; I'll take over.”
“All your Captain. We should have done this years ago. I know I'll sleep easier now.”
That sounded a bit off.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean knowing that we have someone that can crawl around those vents without any of us knowing sounds like all fun and games, and I didn't really mind Mouse doing it before, but obviously she's gone a bit off the deep end here, and I'll sleep safer knowing she can't get to me.”
I shook my head.
“She's just angry. She has cause.”
“I never said she doesn't Captain. I'm just saying I don't want to see what else she has planned for the rest of us, and I hope shes done with Lissa. I feel safer with my vent barricaded until she calms down.”
Guido, almost as quiet a Joe, chose this moment to break his silence.
“I agree. Always best to be prepared, and the quicker we remove her options, the quicker we can focus on finding and helping her.”
I waved it off. I guess they couldn't help the tinge of anger in their voices either, even if they had no cause.
“Get some sleep Sieg, you aren't getting out of your shift unless the doc calls you in sick.”
“Yep, I'm out.”
I settled in to weld the next one, which happened to be mine. Well I certainly hadn't planned that. We had no need to be quiet, Jen had moved out at the same time as our parents were frozen, citing the need for 'space', whatever that meant. We had more than enough space in my opinion, both inside and outside the ship.
It really just meant I saw her even less than I did before.
Four hours of mindless welding later and we were done, at least with habitation. Still a far cry from the goal of having everything locked down so we could search, but at least with security drones on either side of the habitation wing and the vents welded, the engineering access tubes locked, we would be safe from further reprisal.
Carla had not contacted me yet, so I went to find her; I found her in the cafeteria, drinking something that smelled strongly of my new cabinet in the captain's office. I pointedly pretended not to notice. Lissa was next to her, looking very clean, and everywhere but at me.
“So Carla, what happened with that inventory?”
“I just finished it and came here to get something; I worked through lunch on it.”
I nodded to show I understood her diligence, and the reason she didn't contact me sooner. She was still rubbing Lissa's hand.
“The quick answer is yes, supplies are missing, but not enough to sustain the number of plants Mouse took for longer than a week, two at most. Either she's planning on actually eating the plants entirely, or she will need more.”
No self respecting member of this generation would kill a food bearing plant, so I could safely plan on her trying to take more. Likely not tonight, but I'd already moved the security drones in both the lab and botany wings to the inside of their respective areas; in the case of botany, I'd made sure it would patrol this time.
Best I could do for tonight; by tomorrow I could set a good trap. But maybe I could lower my chances.
A quick work order for Brunhilde to continue what we had started on night shift, only this time welding the vents in the botany wing first, and I would have both another person in place to stop Mouse from grabbing more, and the place locked down that much more quickly.
And it would also stop Mouse from doing worse than just grabbing some growth mix, if she were so inclined. After all, she had an independent source of food for herself now, there was nothing really stopping her from sabotaging ours. I really did not like that thought at all.
I grabbed a drink for myself, Marion just let me with a nod.
I wanted it to be alcoholic, but the last thing I needed was for Oddball to relieve me of command for being under the influence of a mind altering drug. Then, Like the rest of the ship, I settled in uneasily to wait.
Two of the longest weeks in recorded history, I was sure.
That was how long it took to “batten down the hatches”, as the shipping saying went. Botony was closed, the labs were closed, the living quarters were finally closed. But it had cost, oh how it had cost. The Magellan would never be the same.
The night after Lissa had been hit, Carla had. She had assured me in strident tones that it would take months for her hair to grow back, and yes it was a big deal. I had posted a guard inside Milla's quarters; it didn't take, well, an engineer, to know where Mouse would strike next.
Somehow she still got to her; now Milla and Carla both had a new found fondness for hats. Two days later, certain showers in the male gym area spit water tinted blue after a slight delay.
My own blue tinge was just now starting to fade, after almost two weeks of showers with a caustic soap. I knew what it meant; it meant she knew, or knew well enough from my own personality. Several others had been marked with the scarlet letter, as it were. A few were even indignant about it.
Most looked guilty... and worried.
I wouldn't care to bet that the cameras Oddball used were being used only by Oddball present. I bet Mouse was there, watching, laughing her fool ass off.
Now the females among the crew were looking over their shoulders, and testing their own showers each day before using them. The unease and stress were clear. Mouse looked omnipotent, or nearly so... and I looked incompetent, or nearly so. I wouldn't even argue if anyone stood up and screamed the accusation outright.
I'd probably agree, even if the crew wanted to replace me as captain.
But for all my own failure, there had been precious little rumbling of that yet. The real underground rumors and rumblings were far worse. Many in the crew were speaking openly (though never in my hearing) of 'punishing' Mouse.
How in the hell would we manage to punish our chief engineer without turning her further against us? Hadn't we 'punished' her first? How could we possibly stop Oddball from doing something like this again without Mouse? The other engineers from prior generations weren't even close to as brilliant as Mouse was, if their own anecdotal evidence and IQ tests were to be believed.
I'd felt I had to check those during the week, no matter how busy I was. Any sort of advantage I could find, I needed. But the prior engineers weren't much help, even if I were to request an emergency thawing. Provided I could make a case for such a thawing; Mouse hadn't in any way threatened the ship. And without that, Oddball wouldn't sign off on the action.
I felt like Oddball was getting his jollies from all this too, somehow. At least he was actually actively trying to help now, working on calculating how Mouse had blinded him, and ways to scan for bio-signatures throughout the ship that Mouse hadn't already figured out and disabled.
So far, no dice there, but it was a far cry from the first week. The first week Oddball did nothing at all that I didn't expressly ask for... almost as if it were paralyzed into inactivity. Some old archives in the history files had said some computers did that when faced with a problem they needed all their CPU power for... but that didn't really make sense. Oddball was a true AI, with more computing power than humanity had been able to make purely on it's own. It was more intelligent than Mouse, from an IQ test standpoint. So why would it freeze up like a windows computer running DOS and trying to compute the true numeric value of infinity?
That made me nervous; was our problem with Mouse so unsolvable that even the strongest computer humanity ever had access to couldn't solve it? And if not, what exactly did cause Oddball to freeze up like that?
I suppose it didn't matter; it was humanities' problem, for all that it was caused in part by Oddball itself. We could and would solve it. Preferably without bloodshed.
For now though, she was still at large. We had searched large areas of the ship, laying down sensors and hiding more; we didn't want to risk her hiding out in places we'd already been. None of those sensors had detected anything or been disabled so far, so I assumed they were clear.
I had a few private theories on where she was. One was that she was hanging out in the main drive section of engineering, which was a confusing warren of old machinery and tight hallways. Even our bravest explorers got lost regularly there, at least without some outside assistance. The old maps were all but useless there. Too much old tinkering and building.
Engineers were crazy; even the best of them.
The other option was the center of the ship, where the ship's gravity did not reach, in all the spaces not covered by cameras or sensors directly. There were no shortage of places to hide there for any length of time if you didn't mind your bone and muscle atrophy.
That's what was going to happen today. An organized search of the areas outside of the normal existence of the ship. Seth, Joe, Guido, and I were going to suit up and search that inner area in teams. I hoped we would find her today.
Because if we didn't, I'd need to get far more people to search the main drive section. The people I had searching now were ones I knew wouldn't hurt Mouse if we found her. Some of the people I'd have to include are not likely to be as forgiving. I hated the mere thought of having to worry not only for the searchers, but the one being searched for.
Even knowing my quarter's vents were welded shut with sensors in place to detect tampering, and the door locked with Mouse no longer granted entry, I still inspected my toothbrush and paste, as well as the water running from the sink in the bathroom. I did not need another application of blue pigment, or something strange spread upon my teeth.
Checking my clothes was a must too. All clear, on all counts.
The trip to the cafeteria was uneventful; I was running early which meant the hallways were empty. There had been no calls to wake me, the first time in weeks; I was just in the habit of waking early now... or not sleeping at all.
The cafeteria itself was almost empty; only Marion and Eric present. Eric's blue was actually closer to fading than mine was; a testament to how furiously one scrubbed when showering. Marion slid a plate of carrot muffins over as I stepped up to the counter without a word. I knew they were carrot muffins because that was what we had a surplus of this week.
I wish I could say tell Marion our food supply was out of danger, but that would be a lie. Even if everyone took shifts and just watched the garden, we wouldn't be able to watch all of it well enough. Not if Mouse decided to get serious. Luckily enough it seemed she didn't want to.
I was beginning to wish she'd just make her real move though; all this suspense was killing me.
I looked down in surprise when my questing hand found no more muffins to consume; I hadn't even tasted the things, and I liked carrots. Sigh. With a shrug I downed the last of my water and handed the dishes back to Marion.
Sure I was still early, but the sooner we started, the sooner we could find our wayward crew-member and bring her in. No one had even seen a glimpse of her during her admittedly malicious pranks, which meant no one knew if she had healed correctly, or if she had aggravated the surgery in some fatal way.
I'd rather she be pranking us than dead and rotting in some out of the way corner where the ship sensors did not reach. At least Oddball hadn't declared her dead; that would pretty much ruin someone else's day. Or life.
I think I'd rather space the entire damn computing core than allow it to operate on one of us again.
“Yo cap, good morning.”
Apparently I wasn't the only one ready to get started early. Joe and Seth were here already, with Joe acting mute and greeting with a silent wave as usual, and Seth speaking for both of them. Though in what movie inspired accent or slang this week would be anyone's guess. I couldn't even identify them all. The location was of course the primary inside hatch. Though we didn't need to be, we would be suited up for safety, and they were inspecting the suits.
Of course we couldn't get going until Guido arrived; I had demanded teams myself; no one left alone when searching for Mouse. Small as she was, she could still overwhelm any lone person, and I couldn't be sure she wouldn't hurt them somehow. I simply could not take the chance.
“yo cap, snap out of it.”
Concentration broken, I turned to Seth. He looked as serious as I had seen him. Neither he nor Joe had any hints of blue.
“What?”
“You're worrying too much cap. Got to cool off, stay frosty. You can't let it get to you; the stress will eat you alive.”
Behind him Joe nodded along.
“I can handle it.”
Maybe I couldn't, but a captain shouldn't appear weak after all. He gave me a surprisingly shrewd once over.
“Maybe cap... but how are you sleeping?”
I had no doubt he slept like a baby. They both likely did.
I was saved from having to respond and lie by Guido showing up. Right on time. He wasn't blue tinted either.
“Good morning.”
“Morning. So how are the suits?”
Joe spoke up for the first time today.
“Perfectly fine. All four suits check out.”
Wait.
“You checked all the suits? Even ours?”
“Yes, we wanted to make sure they were in good order and free of any sabotage. So we simply showed up early and checked all of them.”
“I am quite capable of checking my own suit.”
Seth chose to be insulting.
“Yeah, but we do it better. Don't want you missing something. That way if you die, it's all our fault and we get lynched.”
I still gave my suit a quick once over without seeming to. Just in case. I didn't like what this job was making me turn into. I found it hard to trust anymore... I could only hope I was the only one it was doing it too. Too much of this, and none of us would ever trust each other again.
I was pretty sure Joe at the very least, noticed me running the quick inspection. But he didn't say anything. And we all suited up with the ease of long practice. Though I was sure Guido didn't go EVA much. Probably no more than the minimum.
We locked the door behind us, using my code and nanites. One of the few perks of being the captain, I could lock anything and anyone out, unless I was declared unfit. Maybe the chief engineer could reverse it... but our chief engineer was currently unfit for duty. And the doctor could possibly do it by declaring me unfit first, but that would take a hearing.
Anyone in here with us, should not be able to get out that way. Of course, that only left an estimated hundred ways to enter or exit. And it was out job to check every single one.
…..........................................................
I watched captain traitor seal the first old hatch that no one ever used. He was giving the job due diligence, I had to admit. Welding it shut AND welding sensors for motion, our signal bearing nanites as well as a camera microphone and motion sensor. All of this was also welded in place, and covered by a fairly tough tamper proof cage while Guido played lookout.
A bit bulky but I approved. Of course there were ways to bypass it, but any bypass would result in at least one of the sensors going off. There were ways to defeat that as well, but it was too much effort for the gain; there were other entrances. I doubt even that bastard son of alien technology knew them all.
I doubt my old mentor even knew of the entrance I liked to use, for the simple expedient that there was no way he would ever fit in it. I discovered it by accident when upgrading some wiring to one of the newer motors regulating the modular function of some of our cargo spaces.
Some of our cargo bays for certain types of cargo (like the remains of the small comet worked on by Seth and Joe) could expand in size, or contract to better hold cargo; shifting cargo could actually generate a fair amount of movement of the ship itself, which we would need to burn costly fuel to correct.
The design was supposed to be a way to offset the problem; and just outside of the home solar system, it had proven flawed. The motors had proven insufficient to 'hugging' truly weighty cargo, and had a tendency to jam due to the dust and grit that often floated free in the empty spaces.
To further add insult to injury, the amount of motion generated by rampaging cargo had been overestimated. It really wasn't the problem the first gen builders had thought it might be.
So the old motors had to be replaced in favor of an encapsulated system which was smaller... and which also didn't work, due to the same dust. And then the entire system was decommissioned. It hadn't been used in my lifetime.
So, a little known fact; if you could ignore the crap floating around and ignore the feelings of claustrophobia and faint stirrings of panic, you could work your way through the old motor cowling and then into one of the fuel feeds. Which led into the engineer service tunnels behind, and into the main drive section.
All you had to do was be smaller than any human had a right to be, and know that the entire mechanism was disabled. Well that or balls of steel, and I was fresh out of those. They were probably in a jar that Oddball kept somewhere to gloat over. I had however made sure to disable one entire engine from the loop, decommissioned or not.
The problem was I wasn't sure how much longer I would be able to use it myself. I was growing.
Oh no, I wasn't finally hitting a growth spurt and gaining height; that would have been too easy, and a silver lining. I was growing... bumpy. I don't think I was gaining weight.... but my chest was killing me. All jiggly and maddening itch. And my butt, well, if it continued to balloon out there was no way I'd be able to make it through this hidden entrance of mine; I'd almost gotten stuck on my way in this morning.
I suppose I could hollow out the fuel line, but I was loathe to do that; we might need it later.
I had a pretty good idea why Claire used to ask if she looked fat in her clothes now though; cold comfort indeed.
The good news is I had only come this way to check the opposition; they were finally getting going on the offense, after weeks of being defensive. I still don't think they figured out how I managed to 'shave' Lissa and her chief hench-witch, but I was pretty sure they figured out the blue additive to the showers.
A great prankster once told me to never pull the same trick twice, and I was sticking to it; which was why the girl's badge of shame would be different than the blue man group's. It was hard to think of something at the same time brutal yet harmless, that would cause no lasting damage and not interfere with their jobs.
Besides, I hadn't actually cracked the code on the voter list yet; I wasn't sure what Oddball had used, but it was something I had little experience with. For all my skills I wasn't an experienced cryptologist.
I had acted on the guys mostly out of rage and spite, and I wasn't sorry for it; I was pretty sure who had voted against me there; the women were more guesswork than I was comfortable with. I was pretty sure Lissa and her hench-witches had voted against me, but what of Claire? What of Marion? What of Brun?
I had a feeling they could have gone either way, but at the same time I didn't want to know. I don't think I could ever really forgive the people on that list. Some of them were pure unmitigated jerks, sure. Some of them did not like me at all, and that was mutual; those people I could sort of understand voting against me.
But my friends? Those I trusted, voting away my identity as if it were something shameful or worthless, to be washed away by blood and tears for the sake of convenience? For their own convenience?
How could anyone forgive such a thing?
I heard them in the hallways and in their private spots, thinking they were safe from prying eyes and ears. They dared talk of trust; of how they would never be able to trust me again after the crimes I've pulled. What the hell sort of nonsense is that? Do they really not realize who broke trust with whom? If not, I feel honor bound to show them.
Still, it wouldn't do to target the wrong people.
But for now, I was gathering information. It seemed as if, true to form, they were focusing on making sure I did not double back and get behind them as they tried to run me to ground. Captain traitor was right in that the main drive section of the Magellan should be dealt with last; it was undeniably my turf.
I had both worked and played there since I was six, after all. No one currently active knew that particular section better than I; not even the other engineers. There, no one could match me. There, I could finally get some full measure of revenge against my betrayers and tormentors.
I was finally getting into the swing of using my altered body, having spent most of my enforced time off just learning how to move again. The number Oddball had done on me was surprisingly thorough, but confidence was slowly returning. I had had more time than I expected, but less than I needed. I would have to start layering my traps tonight.
And I would be hampered by the fact that I wouldn't be able to place them indiscriminately, or I'd be keeping the engineers who were seeing to the well being of the ship from doing their jobs. Which in itself limited the number of places I could make my first stand.
Squeezing my body, a traitor all it's own, though through no fault of it's own back through my make-shift entrance was even more claustrophobic than normal... there was a moment when I truly thought I was stuck. A vigorous shimmy got me through.
I needed a shower.
Captain traitor thought he had the residential hub locked down... and he did. He had all the vents and tubes locked, welded shut, and sensor warded. Both the quarters and corridors both. However the residential hub was not the only place to get a shower on the Magellan; nor was it the only place to get a good night's sleep.
Near one of the old, now unused outer hatches, one that used to be one of the new and most used outer hatches when the ship was being constructed, there was an old decommissioned infirmary. The place was actually a storeroom converted to the purpose for the treatment of work related accidents.
At the time, those people working furiously to save humanity tended to cut their suit or crush their limbs with power tools due to a rather normal tendency to hurry. A surprising number of those tended to survive, for all that they needed replacements. Eyes bursting from the lack of pressure was common, but replacements were at the time, easy to implant.
All the medications and equipment (as well as the replacement eyes) had of course long since been removed or recycled, but the beds an other anomalous amenities were still in place, for all that the place was listed as a storeroom. Having one's mother as chief medical officer for years had some benefit, after all.
It had the added benefit of being off the beaten path, though it was on the list for tonight's sweep, which meant today was the last day I could use it. Luckily it was only one of my bolt holes. It wasn't even the only one with a shower, though this one was the most comfortable one left.
Finally arriving, I pulled myself through the vent and replaced it, adding my own sensors to it. Then I made sure the door was locked and sealed, and added my alarm there too; it would chime extra loud if attempts were being made to open it...then delay the order for two minutes, more than long enough for me to get away, provided they didn't know for sure that I was here.
If they did, they would simply seal off the entire wing; that way when I tried to run they could track me down. They would likely do it by flooding the vents with radioactive dust; easily treatable, it would allow them to track me. The only reason they didn't just flood the ship now was that cleanup afterward would be terrible.
One section could be done; the entire ship, and the dust would cause illness or other problems before we could clean it all up.
The shower was almost too hot, and very warm. The tang of rust from the old tank (the real reason this was a great bolt hole) was almost gone now, and the water almost clear. It worked to get me and my clothes clean... or clean-ish at any rate, in the case of my clothes. Yes I knew how to use water and soap to wash my clothes, which was a must because I no longer had access to the normal sonic machines we used.
I didn't really want to wash clothes by hand, but it was either that or go naked. The outfit shirt, shorts, and overall combo I was using was the last one to fit me. It had been a little loose before. The normal clothes I'd grabbed at the start of this were beginning to get a little tight.
And the shirts... well this one was the only one that fit and didn't chafe. I wasn't sure what it was made of, but it was soft. I needed to get some more; a heist was in order. I could also take care of Claire's punishment while there, provided she was on the list. I hadn't cracked that list in two weeks, and I was beginning to get impatient again. I'd also heard her talking when she thought no one else could be listening in on her conversations.
Claire was as good a target as any.
This day started much like any other. No sooner had I woken up and unstrapped myself, then a call came.
“Captain, we could use you at the mess.”
This time it was Claire, of all people. I thought that Mouse and Claire were fast friends. Why would he do anything to her? Maybe I was wrong and it was the mess hall itself that was hit... but if so, how? We had sealed the mess hall in the first few days, part of locking down our food supply. Maybe Marion had been the target?
Well no sense in just wondering; I would find out as soon as I got there.
“On my way.”
Getting dressed was faster now; I had long since taken up the idea of leaving clothes out on the corner of my bed after the first few middle of the night calls. My toes had thanked me; even with voice activated lights they had found every sharp corner of my furniture it was possible to stumble over.
I couldn't even drink the drink I had made, I'd run out yesterday. Maybe Marion would have some tea waiting for me.
“Yo Sieg, come in.”
“Yes, mon capitan?”
“I might be late to the bridge.”
A slight pause before the reply.
“Again?”
I nodded, even though Siegfried (as well was anyone else; the corridors were empty) were not in any position to see it.
“Hey, be thankful I'm not having you do it.”
This mess was my fault. So I should be the one to deal with it.
“Oh I am captain, I am. So where was it this time?”
“Claire called from the mess hall.”
Even through the customary burst of static, the worry was easy to hear.
“Ahh, shit. I hope she didn't do anything to the food supply.”
Siegfried had been the one to lock down the mess hall in the first place.
“Relax, I'm sure the food is fine and it's just something else.”
Of course, I was right. And in a way, it was worse. Marion handed me tea without a word, and crooked a finger at me. I followed her and found Claire in a hidden nook in the kitchen... wearing nothing but a tablecloth thrown clumsily around her. At her feet lay the remains of clothing, all in various pieces. Claire was clumsily resewing her shirt, muttering some choice words I pretended not to hear.
“So.. Mouse?”
She stood up and was in my face so fast the tablecloth was in real danger of falling off.
“You're darn right it was! Somehow she treated my clothes with dissolving nanite paste! Every stitch corroded to nothing by the time I got here for breakfast! I mean, I thought they felt odd but they looked fine and....”
I wasn't sure I dared touch her. Claire had a mean right cross, and she was pretty angry.
“Look calm down, OK? Explain it from the beginning, please. Any detail might be important.”
Both Claire and Marion were looking at me as if I had suddenly sprouted a second head. Marion took over while Claire went back to her needlework, muttering. Again I pretended not to hear.
“Look Claire came in dressed in her usual. She had spent the night at the Commisary, rather than her own quarters.”
I nodded. Some crew with jobs tying them to specific places, like Claire and Marion, spent nights there as often as at their own place. It was both laziness and a form of cheap security.
“Well she woke up, saw everything in the same place, and got dressed. On the walk down she noticed something seemed a little off. At first she just thought Mouse had gotten a little free with itching powder – but it turned out the truth was much worse. Her clothes started falling off her in pieces as she stepped through my door, and I ordered everyone out. I escorted her to the back, then gathered up the pieces while she called you.”
I inspected a piece. Only the thread was missing... which meant the nanites had been ever so carefully applied with no mistakes and an almost slavish focus. Without any doubt, the hallmarks of Mouse's handiwork. I winced as Claire spoke, a little more calm and matter of fact now.
“What's worse is I had welded my vent grates on myself, and they are still on and haven't been tampered with. I'm not sure how he got in, but assuming he did there is a hole somewhere. Which means he could have gotten into the commissary as well. I think we need to check that... once I get my clothes presentable enough.”
Silly.
“We don't have time for you to do that; Finish sewing them later; for now borrow something from Marion and let's go. Even if it's too late to stop her, we can at least find some clues. Heck if nothing else, we might be able to figure out where she is based on what she took... assuming she managed to get in, of course.”
There was no doubt in my mind that she had managed to get in. The only real question is how. It obviously wasn't through the vents in Claire's shop. Could it have been through the vault itself? But if so, how did she get past the guard? Marion left to get something for her to wear. I'd ask why that didn't happen until I arrived afterwords; not sure it was important now.
And why target Claire at all? Weren't they friends?
“So why would Mouse target you anyway?”
She stiffened momentarily, the only sign of distress. Her voice was calm as she answered.
“I'd guess she found out about me voting for her getting Oddball's little tune up, and decided to show how displeased she was with me.”
….what?
Of all the people I had suspected of voting to screw Mouse over, Claire was the last on the list. Dead last on it, right behind Marion. They had been friends literally forever, and this made no sense. Marion was next to last because, well, I suspected Marion had a thing for Mouse. But Claire voting yes on Mouse changed everything.
“...Why would you ever do that? Why would you ever turn on Mouse that way?”
She gave me a loaded look.
“Why would you?”
Now that was very confusing.
“What do you mean? I didn't betray him. I tried to stop all this! I voted against it, because I knew what would happen. And it has, pretty much everything that I suspected would happen has happened. I do admit though, I did not expect you to vote against Mouse. You, of all people.”
Marion was taking a suspiciously long time to get clothes.
“Why? I think she'd be happier as one. She's far better suited to being a girl than boy. And she's safer as one too.”
Again, what?
“What do you mean?”
Claire opened her mouth, but closed it again as Marion strode in bearing a large frown.
“Well, I did the best I could, but it'll likely be a little... small. I guess it's better than sewing your own back together, since time is of the essence.”
“I'll make do, at least until I can get back to my place.”
Then she turned to me and pointed an imperious finger.
“Get out.”
Of course I got out. Marion, oddly enough, was right behind me. And while she was here, and no one else was in earshot (as the cafeteria was empty, oddly enough for breakfast) I decided to ask one of the invasive questions I'd been sitting on.
“So, were there any witnesses to this event with Claire?”
Marion took a moment to get what I was trying to imply tactfully; then she grinned.
“Nah, I mean her clothes were coming off by the time she came in, but I shoo'd everyone out and hustled her in the back before the big reveal. Which reminds me, since she's decent we can probably open up again.”
She had actually locked up? Since all the public doors save certain bathrooms let me in automatically, I hadn't noticed. There hadn't been a line outside, but a few people trickled in as she keyed the door. Seth and Joe, who always ate here, as well as Eric and Dirk. An odd set to hang out together as those last two were.
I shrugged as they walked up and grabbed their morning bread... I had much more important things to worry about.
“Alright, let's go. I hope she didn't ruin too much.”
We left before Eric could manage to corner us on why Claire was wearing ill fitting clothes and walking out with me. Chances were he knew enough, and would find out the entire story in gory detail later, but he wouldn't from me. How Claire could remain so stoic in light of her coming embarrassment among the entire crew was beyond me.
At least she wouldn't be the social pariah Mouse was doomed to become; provided we ever managed to talk her down. I was seriously beginning to doubt at this point. The only alternative I could think of was some kind of prison, and I didn't see that working; Mouse was the chief engineer, and the only one fully trained as such. We needed her. She couldn't do her job behind bars, even if the bars could be made sturdy enough to hold her.
The rest of the walk was silent; we did not encounter any other crew; the others were probably at breakfast or on shift. People didn't usually go to the shop until after their shift, and the lone corridor leading to the shop and vault was often empty for hours. I often wondered if the quartermasters were lonely, spending such time alone. The one time I'd asked, Claire had just given me a strange look and said no.
We both entered the vault easily, of course. Claire had access, and I always had access. A statement on our trust both from the ship (Oddball) and the community (our crew).
Walking right in, we crossed the small bridge like corridor meant to act like a medieval moat and entered the vault proper. We passed the obviously still active security drone along the way. Supposedly this entrance was the only way into the vault itself, so it made sense for any guards to be here.
The vault itself was almost as large as the Ark below, and perhaps the cryo chamber where the earlier generations were kept. And of course it was filled floor to ceiling with vacuum packed boxes, as far as the eye could see through the narrow twisting halls. Each box was strapped in of course, the extremely tough mesh netting looped int eye-bolts rated for extreme weights or force.
Most of it was filled with things like denim, thread, certain plastics... things we could no longer make without a planet, no matter how sophisticated our manufacturing plant was. The true marvel of the Magellan was that it could manufacture or jury-rig a good 90% of everything it was made of; the other 10% was in stock here as well, by the dozens and routinely inspected by the quartermaster and an engineer.
So far, those parts that couldn't be manufactured had held, in some cases far beyond their supposed lifespan. The only one that even registered as a distant concern was the fission coils; magnetic coils built to very precise tolerances, one had already burned out, and the first replacement was considered defective upon inspection. That left the Magellan with around 70 less years in space than it had been allotted for, in the best case scenario.
We should find a planet of some kind to colonize well before then. At least, according to theory. We were headed to one of the closest systems to our former home, after all. The DaVinci was the one in real trouble; they had the farthest route to travel, and had been the last ship built. In fact, they were still under construction when we left. Who knows what kind of shoestring budget and parts they had been forced to make do with; the Magellan had almost bankrupted several countries.
Countries were an odd concept; nationalities meant next to nothing next to survival. Ideologies themselves meant next to nothing. Race, even less than nothing. Not that the old concept of race wasn't flawed anyway. Humans were a race, humans of a different color or genetic markers could still breed with each other. Like dogs supposedly, there might be many types, shapes, and sizes, but all were able to breed and therefore still the same race. Any other definition of the word made no sense at all.
“Hey, you there? Mind on task there, Captain.”
Whoops. Claire as staring at me, arms folded in front of her and tapping a foot. I ignored how it pushed her already tightly wrapped assets further up.
“Alright, sorry. So how do we find out if anything is taken?”
She gave me another look, but started off waving for me to follow.
“Well some of the boxes and crates have sensors in them, designed to activate an alarm in the even of tampering, but I doubt Mouse would have been fooled by those; after all she knew the system exists. So likely we will have to rely on a good old fashioned visual inspection.”
I stopped, staring down the hall. A visual inspection with just the two of us, no matter how cursory, would take HOURS, if not days. And if it was just a quick search, chances were we would never find the clues needed to tell us what Mouse took and why.
“Oh relax Captain, at the moment we are just looking for signs of entry. Mouse couldn't have covered all of those up, assuming she did get it this way; it'll be much faster to check for that. No sense jumping to conclusions yet.”
I nodded but didn't voice my thoughts. If Claire had been hit, I was all but certain the vault had as well. I didn't know why, but I was sure. Was it wrong of me to assume such? Was I giving Mouse too much credit? I caught myself shrugging again. Only time would tell. I did hope my intuition was wrong though. The first official hunt for Mouse would begin tonight after all, I'd need my rest for it.
All in all, it took less than an hour. Mouse had left a nice big sign or her presence; footprints.
They were small, lined in some sort of engine grease, and led back into the crankshaft of one of the engines powering the drawbridge. The access hatch was in place, but that was where the footsteps led. How she had gotten in there and through was anyone's guess. I couldn't fit in there to check, and I was fairly sure Claire couldn't either. She summed up our feelings nicely however.
“Well... shit. Wonder how long that hole has been there.”
“Probably isn't there, for anyone but the Mouse.”
We followed the footsteps to the other side. Unfortunately they cut completely off about halfway down one hall, as if done on purpose. I knew it was too good to be true.
“What is in this aisle?”
“Chemicals and samples of exotic metals, mostly. Like silver, used in microchip manufacture, or metallic hydrogen. Some of the samples from the home galaxy lie here too.”
Chemicals... ugh, she could be doing anything. From just bolstering her own stock of hydroponic supplies to building a bomb. Heck, she could even be experimenting on new sorts of floor cleaners. A check of the mesh down the aisle revealed nothing out of place. I guess I'd find out when we finally caught her. When she made a mistake.
Or when she allowed us to catch her.
“Look, with all due respect Captain... get out. I need to get changed and then clean this mess up. We both know there aren't any more clues here.”
The translation was: we both know she led us here to rub our noses in dirty grease and failure.
What else could I do? I left.
“Seig.”
“Yes Captain?”
Hmm, polite and respectful; the ship must be seconds from breaking apart somehow.
“Anything new to report?”
Translation: did Mouse screw up anything else while I wasn't looking?
“No, all quiet Captain.”
A minor miracle.
“All right Seig, I'm coming up. Be there soon.”
I really needed some more tea. Then I needed something stronger in it.
…................................................................
The camera monitors revealed all. Hearing her say it... hearing Claire, that betraying witch say it outright, had made me want to break things. Or faces. And to say I'd be happier this way.. to put this all on me in that fashion? What drugs had she stolen from medical? Even with the second trick I pulled on her, she got off lucky. I had a wide variety of pictures of her in shock, the remains of her clothes in tatters around her. They warmed my heart.
I could even send them to someone, or every member of the crew, were I so inclined. She got off easy after all though; no lifetime friend voted to have her breasts chopped off and put in a bell jar.
I was pretty sure Oddball had preserved what he took; artificial insemination was unreliable, but it could still work, and I was secretly hoping he'd pick Claire for the honors. That and make it painful. Maybe if I asked nicely... I mean, she wouldn't have to know, would she? Or maybe I'd tell her.
After all, I should know... pain did not necessarily prevent one from doing their job.
I'd gone over the repair schedule; it wasn't like they could keep me out. In fact I suspected that bastard A.I. of lightening the security on the work orders on purpose. It was all busy work mostly, I'd done the hard stuff before being stabbed in the back by my friends. No doubt Oddball had planned those events too; I knew doing all the heavy maintenance was suspicious. I should have looked deeper, not that it really would have mattered.
On the other hand, I really owed Lissa, Carla, and Milla really good apologies. The short list of people who didn't vote to shaft me have all three of their names on it. Claire, Joe, Seth, Marion, even Siegfried had voted against me. Eric had too, but that was expected. But the terrible trio had not, and that surprised me utterly.
It made me glad I didn't murder them, though I was very confused now. Having those three in my corner somehow while my own supposed friends happily vote to screw meant that nothing would likely ever make sense again. I'd have to ask them when I apologized.
Roger had voted in favor too of course. I owed him for that. And I'd save him for last. For him no expense would be spared. I watched as the team put together for the purpose of finding where I'd gone to ground, finally found my old, favorite home away from home. They were about two hours behind the schedule I'd given them. So many names, so little time....
…..........................................................
“Captain.”
The voice was scratchy and sounded old, somehow. I knew exactly who it was.
“Go ahead Guido.”
“We found one of Mouse's boltholes.”
We'd been finding those all over. All of them so far had been false trails.
“A real one?”
I could almost see the terse nod from the tone in his voice.
“A real one this time. Not much to see, but enough to be able to tell.”
Now I was curious.
“Where?”
“By one of the old airlocks; a decommissioned first generation medical bay. Seems it had leftover supplies, which Mouse made use of.”
Of course; she did know the ship better than any of us; I knew the dank chamber he was speaking of, but I'd only been there once and in passing, as a kid taking the tour with my parents. Mouse though, she had the run of the ship from an early age, much more than the rest of us. So of course she'd remember. Which led to me spending the journey to the spot wracking my brain for any other such places not yet covered. I couldn't think of any.
The room in question was indeed a decommissioned medical bay used for treat construction accidents. A quick glance at the flimsy glass cabinets, currently half empty, was enough to confirm that. Guido stepped up.
“The door had an older model sensor, but it was spoofed in order to allow no entry. She used the vent back there as her entrance. She cleaned up everything well but there are traces of blood under UV and we typed it as hers.”
Well that was new; there hadn't been blood in any of the other locations.
“Where and how much?”
“Just traces and mostly the shower. The recycling bin hasn't emptied itself yet today; we found old fashioned gauze, some traces of pain medication, and some of those old food tubes. Uneaten.”
“No surprise, they were probably bad. Those and the medication couldn't last forever.”
“Well the medicine was vacuum sealed capsules.”
I nodded. So he'd found the packaging for those. Old Earth stock. Pills like those would still be very potent. How Mouse had found some was anyone's guess; the Magellan was supposed to be out of stock on those, for at least ten years. Probably closer to twenty; after all, we could synthesize our own. Gen 1 had been fairly well pampered, but they also had the tendency to hoard things, especially things from Earth.
“Captain.”
This call was from Brunhilde, who was filling in as chief engineer. She was trying very hard, but despite the help I'd been assigning her she was slowly getting overwhelmed.
“I've found something. Something you need to see.”
I couldn't suppress the sigh. The master plan, finally being revealed perhaps? The bomb found? I turned back to Guido.
“Alright, try and track her by heat if you can, use the little drones if you have to. Try and find traces of where she went... you know the drill.”
He nodded.
“I do indeed; I'm on it Captain.”
It took some extra doing to find Brunhilde, who wasn't at the standard engineer's post. The tracker tied to my pad showed her in the cryo storage chamber. No doubt running the daily check. My blood went as cold as space itself.
Had Mouse done the unthinkable, and sabotaged the sleepers?
I ran, pounding down the corridor without a second thought. If anyone saw me do this, there would be rumors and consequences later; but I didn't see anyone. I didn't even see the corridor itself. My father had once mentioned a blind panic, but I hadn't thought he was serious. Evidently he was; it could happen after all.
Out of breath I stomped up to Brunhilde, currently watching the sleepers sleep. The cryo tubes I could see displays from all appeared to be in the green; functioning perfectly with no warnings.
“What's wrong Brun?”
She looked startled and wore a faint feel of shock like a blanket.
“Nothing's wrong, that's whats wrong.”
That made me pause.
“What do you mean?”
She pointed to the sensor panel leading to the sensors designed to detect intruders or tampering.
“Well, I was checking the sleepers when I noticed something.”
She pulled off the cover. A few of the sensors had been tampered with. I wasn't even sure what had been done; I couldn't understand the bypass.
“So what is it?”
“The sensors chiming an alarm have been rerouted; they now chime to somewhere else, remotely, in the even of an emergency. The ambient heat anomaly sensors have been shut off. When I thought about why I grabbed a portable unit and came back. Turns out there are traces of a person being in here no less than 4 hours ago, and that person isn't logged. The door wasn't used to grant entry.”
I stated it out loud, more for the ordering of my own thoughts more than anything else.
“So she's been here.”
Brun nodded and continued; there was more.
“This made me curious, so I followed up; not only has Mouse been inspecting the tubes, she corrected a flaw in one that could have posed a problem. I also checked deeper, and some work orders from engineering logged by Oddball never got to my pad. The reason for that is they were posted then completed before I ever came on shift, and then the work order deleted, at least for me. In every case the job was something that, well, I'd have a hard time doing properly, at least the first time. Ir no time for, as I was trying to seal vents. Fuel purity calibration in manufacturing plant 2 for example. I don't even know what fuel that plant is manufacturing offhand.”
I nodded absently.
“Hydrogen I believe; cut just enough with water to avoid starting a fire in the mixing chamber.”
So all this time, and Mouse had still been behaving as the chief engineer, all while dodging us. No wonder Oddball was silent. This situation confused me; no matter how good an AI is, something like this would confuse them too. Now, what to do about it?
“Brun, I want you to seal all the vents to this room, the same way we sealed habitation.”
“Understood. Want me to make sure the door isn't hacked as well, right?”
“Right.”
Knowing what I now knew gave me options. So Mouse was still doing her job, despite her anger with us. Perhaps a Mousetrap was in order.
The vents to the sleepers were closed. Well, Brunhilde had finally found my bypass then. It was really too bad they hadn't thought to check the security bot; if they had they would have seen that it had orders to patrol the sleepers with regularity, as well as send it's sensor feed log to one of the old common computer drives, where I could view it with no more than twenty seconds worth of time delay. It wasn't as good as actually being there but it would suffice, so long as Brunhilde kept up her own inspections.
I was certain there was a trap there, and I really wanted to spring it. But so far, I was at a loss as to how. And thinking on the problem while outside one of the newly welded grates, in the vent system, was probably not the best idea.
I backed out and turned around in the intersection; There were no sensors or drones in sight down any of the vents, and a quick check of my pad confirmed there was nothing in range. I turned the scan on myself; I hadn't tracked through any dyes or radioactive substances. So I fought down the nagging feeling that I was missing something, and kept on.
I still took a random circuitous route to my current hiding place, a small nook near engine number three. Brunhilde actually walked past it on her rounds every day, something that struck me as a little odd; I used a different path, which I felt was more efficient. But either way it was a fun coincidence – I waved to her every time I saw her go by, not that she could see it.
The stranglehold on the ship was getting tighter; I could no longer safely travel to certain decks and my loving crew were searching for me even now. I knew it was only a matter of time, but it was too soon. They hadn't caught me yet however, I had more cards yet to play.
A beep from my pad brought home how few I had left though; a quick wave brought up images of small exploration rovers, some used for repair, some tasked for eventual planet exploration, and all with motion sensors affixed to them.
They were scanning the vents in teams of two, and I thought I saw taser weapons like the security bots used. They had just entered my own motion detection field, and for all that it was set some distance away from me, the images showed an all encompassing net reaching front to back. A little more investigation showed the hunters themselves, also in teams of two. Checking all the halls and then somehow coaxing the blast shield doors behind them, even though there was no emergency calling for them. Well it seems even Oddball was finally getting into the act. He couldn't have been in computer 'working' hell forever. It lasted longer than I had expected, but not as much as I'd hoped.
I dressed and geared up. I included a few weapons of my own in that, as well as a nice novel defense I'd read about against electricity. I would not make it easy on them; not now, not ever.
.........................................................................................................................
Mouse had avoided the trap; it was really too much to expect her not to see it I guess, but it could have easily solved all this. Unfortunately this wasn't going to end bloodlessly at all. Oh, I wasn't sure she had been by to see the sleepers, but I was fairly sure she had.
Each end of each vent had been capped, then a small plate added to the roof of each in a very low tech trap. If mouse had moved to the end of the vent to physically look out, the plate should have dropped. They were heat based, with the heat of a hand or other body part activating it. But it hadn't happened, and all the effort to set it up had been useless. I knew it had been a mistake not to include the radioactive tracking dust. She would have seen it, neutralized it, and come ahead, thinking she had countered us.
But she would have likely spotted the ruse anyway.
So plan B, the lengthy one. Anyone not on shift would be walking the halls, using remote drones to check and seal the vents. And Oddball had finally come back from it's lengthy vacation, and agreed to seal the halls after the hunting parties passed so that Mouse couldn't circle behind us. I wasn't too thrilled about the fact that the search had been forced to start at the front of the ship to the back; that meant that the final showdown was likely to occur on Mouse's home turf, engineering. Where there were many highly breakable things that, once broken, could ruin us all.
A good twenty of us cutting the ship into manageable segments and cutting off all retreat. Success was all but assured, but the cost to be paid by next morning would be significant. I didn't want to declare it a sick day or anything similar because Oddball would be relatively unwatched for a day. Knowing what I know now, I couldn't claim that the paranoia of previous generations regarding Oddball was unfounded. Future generations, reading my log, would be doubly warned. Mandatory reading for our mandatory civics class, but the logs of earlier generations had nothing on this. It was even worse than the accident that actually led to this entire situation.
“Captain. Sector 8 clear.”
Right, time to focus. Sector 8 was the section in the upper deck and just before the bridge; it contained many of the back bone systems and their access points. With it secure we didn't have to worry about the bridge sensor systems dying to sabotage. Not that that helped; they were blind anyway, at least when it came to spotting Mouse.
“Understood team 4. Next assignment is sector 12.”
We were actually using paper copies of the schematics of the Magellan to co-ordinate this; I didn't consider our pads secure. I didn't want Mouse opening a hole in the net by sending two teams to the same sector, and this way even if Mouse attempted to hack into our secure communication line and impersonate me. I did want her to try and hack our comm line and attempt to impersonate me so that I could trace her.
No such luck, though I expected our conversations were already hacked into. I also expected Mouse had other means of tracking us all, but I'd had the ship's internal sensor package checked multiple times by everyone who had a chance to detect tampering, and they had found nothing.
“Captain, come on. We'll be behind.”
I turned to Marion, my partner for the day. She was hugging herself, while appearing to check her clothes. She was tense, anxious; she had not been a target of Mouse yet, but she was all but certain she would be now. As one not hit by Mouse yet, she was now in the minority. In short, she felt she was due. That or she felt Mouse was rapidly becoming irrational. I thought that out of any of us, she was safe. But she had requested to work with me, citing worries over violence. I was a big guy after all.
I didn't believe it of course, Mouse was much smaller than Marion was, and while she was an undisputed master at hand to hand, she had no history of real violence. It was far more likely that Marion was hoping her presence would protect me. She wasn't alone in thinking I would be targeted at some point.
“Right. Sector 9 clear.”
As soon as we moved across the blast door threshold, the normally well hidden door slid from the ceiling and rolled shut with a loud locking crash. With the vents closed by grates and motion detection, and all of that patrolled by security bots like the one following us, that section of the Magellan was now as secure as we could make it.
With that door rolled into place, the ship was effectively cut in half at this point. And there was still no sign; not even an old bolt hole. Our next section was sector 22, which was Marion's turf; the cafeteria and pantry behind it. I had assigned everyone who could be, areas of or near their usual stomping grounds, in the hope they knew more about the area and it's hiding places than the Mouse.
The cafeteria was closed, the electric sign showing declaring it closed for the day due to the search. For the first time in my memory; the one place on the ship normally open to all and at all hours was closed. Well, I didn't count medical; normally the doctor or nurse on duty slept there I couldn't remember if it had been closed before, but it wasn't that important. The detail seemed sad somehow, as if it were a statement on how everything was falling apart, and so quickly.
It had had few hiding places, at least in the main hall. The kitchen had a few, but those were easily and rapidly checked. The scanner in his hand didn't chime once, Marion and he had already been programmed into it, and no one else was supposed to be active in the area. He had made sure that all awake hands were pressed into service or on the bridge, and the rest knew enough to stay put unless they had an emergency.
Sure they were all programmed into the system, but without the network they normally used, there could be precious seconds spent chasing a signal only to find out it was someone we didn't care to catch. And I didn't dare plug them unto their network, or it would be hacked in under an hour. Even if Oddball sat on the system itself, I didn't deem it safe.
“Alright, next up, the pantry.”
I was not looking forward to the pantry, it was almost as big as Claire's territory. An absolutely huge section of the ship, where most of our food was kept, the freezer unit alone was four times as big as the mess hall itself. The refrigeration section was even larger. Rows upon rows of netted racks bolted to the floor, storing frozen and non frozen foods. The displays at each rack contained dates the item in question would spoil, all linked to the computer in the kitchen. I didn't think any of it was tampered with, and Marion had double checked all the dates and agreed with me.
There were even some canned and vacuum sealed things; We had our own small machines for each. All Marion's job now. Some people had more time consuming jobs than others. And she hadn't once spit in the soup, which was probably more than anything else, why she had gotten the job, family affair or not.
After a week making food for all of us, despite the help we gave, and cleaning up what the janitor bots couldn't handle, I likely would have done something impolite.
“What is it?”
She was looking at me, a decidedly unfriendly look, and I realized I had been staring.
“Nothing, sorry. Was just thinking about how I wouldn't like your job.”
She laughed in my face.
“Yours is worse. You couldn't pay me in strawberries to take over this tub for a day.”
“Well I can't deny that, though the idea of taking care of all this isn't a pleasant one.”
She grinned, her earlier look melting from her face as the warmth of the expression hit it.
“Not to you, maybe. But I like it here.”
We went down every rack, leaving the bot to watch the door and motion detectors in front of us. I insisted we go in a pair down each row, and Marion didn't argue. For some reason it was silent and subdued, save for random assignment check ins from other groups. Maybe it was what we were doing, maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe it was just me. The place took almost a full hour to canvas just by walking around with the detectors and peering into random darkened corners at Marion's direction.
No Mouse, and no missing food.
We walked out and I crossed another sector off the list; next up for us was sector 25, otherwise known to the crew as the gym. We wouldn't be leaving that area for two hours, at least. I didn't expect that Mouse would be in the gym either, it was too crowded, too often used. It was supposed to be empty now however, which was why when the motion detector chimed in my hand I almost dropped it. I raised it up, so that both Marion and I could look at the display.
Forward, around 10 o clock, and at just over 300 yards something was moving. That put the subject in the female rest room. Our motion detectors had no problem penetrating walls. I heard some of the early ones used to, but it was a silly limitation; after all, if the current ones had that limitations, we'd never find Mouse. Or really anyone or anything. Generation 1 had a real mouse/vermin problem at one point, until these detectors were employed.
We rushed to door silently by mutual consent, but I had to motion the bot back to cover our entrance in case whoever it was, or someone else, snuck around us. Luckily the bots were programmed to understand the most common hand gestures and respond accordingly.
The signal was moving a bit, and it looked to be hunched over in a shower stall. Just as if someone was trying to be sneaky in a shower. A quick check showed no stall on, but that could easily be spoofed. I wasn't happy; I would have to send Marion in. I could override the system as captain, but if I walked in on one of our own nude and prepping for a shower, it would be... awkward. If it was Claire or my sister for example, I likely wouldn't walk straight for a week.
A few tense minutes and Marion emerged, grinning.
“It's safe.”
She was hiding something behind her back. Whatever it was, she could hold it with one hand; her other hand was still holding her taser. She pulled it out with a broad smile.
“Mouse got us good.”
It was a small rover, much like the ones we were using to try and track her... and in the shower, no doubt running circles. In order to create movement for our sensors, and maybe rovers, to pick up. Clever, and we couldn't use the bio-sensors to eliminate them beforehand. An idle thought; how many did Mouse make? She couldn't have made many, rover parts were actually tracked. Though knowing Mouse, she'd made them from the ground up to avoid that. I'd guess no more than six.
What the plan could be involving no more than a dozen of these motion makers, I couldn't say. There had to be something more to this plan than Mouse just annoying us before we caught her.
“All teams be advised. We have caught a little something made by Mouse designed to trip the motion detectors. Be cautious when investigating odd signals. Do not let her circle behind you. That is all.”
Marion was resting her face in her palms.
“You really need to work on your delivery there, captain.”
She opened her own comm channel.
“All teams, this is Marion. Mouse is up to her usual tricks, she made a type of rover to spoof the detectors. If you see something making motion, don't automatically assume it's her.”
Then she turned back to me and walked past with that odd strut women seemed to have. Hadn't she just said what I had?
“See? Simple.”
All in all, over the next six hours, we methodically cut the ship in half, then thirds, then fourths. Our teams had found a total of eight rovers built by Mouse. She had been busy, but all they were doing was driving around randomly, which made no sense at all. They didn't even have remote computer networking gear, which meant they couldn't hack anything. There seemed to be no purpose at all. But soon only engineering was left.
We were all tired by this time, but we had to push to get this done. I handed out assignments on the fly, since there really weren't any of us that knew engineering better (or even as well) as Mouse did. At this point we needed to trust to luck.
Surely Mouse knew it was over by now? Once all the areas were closed, even the zero gravity areas thanks to our resident EVA geniuses, the game was up. It had to be. So why did it feel like she had a few more cards stacking the deck? Why was I so nervous about this? Maybe I needed a good psychiatrist. Maybe Mouse and I could share appointments with Jen. That is if she didn't kill us all somehow; or me.
All teams were hungry and thirsty. I hadn't thought to bring water, and while Marion had I didn't dream of asking her for some of her own squeeze bottle. It was a good lesson for me in the future. Despite that and despite our fatigue we had to press on. Another good four hours or more before we could all sleep.
..........................................................................................................................
I had to wait. I knew they were tired and most of them were hungry and thirsty. I knew they were bored and their motivation for finding me was flagging. I had two rovers left in my arsenal and a plan. It probably wouldn't work, but I had nothing to lose.
I couldn't deny the flutter in my heart when I found out who was actually checking out the area my last hideout was in.
It was Eric. With Lissa backing him up no less. The two people on the ship most happy to see me. If I had known how they had divvied up assignments, I'd have made it a point to be somewhere else when cornered, but Captain traitor had seen fit to make that impossible. Not that I blamed him for that... just a fair amount of everything else. Still, I wasn't about to quit or make it easy on them; I just needed to choose my moment.
Lissa was the one running the motion detector; when she passed it near me I didn't breathe or twitch. From behind a false wall created by an exhaust port for a dynamo not in use (used to feed atmosphere back into the ship; even if it a waste byproduct for the engine it still had a value) I could see them, but they couldn't see me. And thanks to a bit of tampering, it looked like it was still firmly bolted in.
It wasn't part of the ship wide vent system for obvious reasons, and was therefore safe from their rovers. I had briefly considered using my rovers to attack theirs, but that would have given the teams clues to where I was; I wasn't sure I could make it out of an area before they caught me. Besides, my rovers really weren't good enough for it, and I wasn't fond of the idea of damaging potentially valuable resources we would need later. This spot did have one thing going for it though; it was fairly close to one of the blast doors the rest of the crew was using to demarcate their search grid.
I hated being hemmed in by my own sense of honor; I kind of wished my parents had been a bit less diligent in my upbringing. Then an idle thought about what that would mean for the ship as a whole entered my head. I almost missed my chance.
When Lissa was facing away from Eric, and Eric was near my vent port, I knew it was time. I triggered my last two rovers; one directly in front of Lissa but a wall of machinery away, and the other, my best one and secret weapon, on a time delay. It worked like a charm. Lissa sounded more than bored, she sounded half asleep.
“Movement, 3pm-ish, heading away from us.”
Eric's response was just as bored sounding, and as lazy.
“Probably another rover. Go check it out; you wanted the scanner.”
Both Lissa and I stared in disbelief, but she spoke where I dared not.
“You do realize she can beat me in hand to hand, right?”
Eric smirked like the ass he was.
“Then you better tase her before she get close.”
She took off at a good clip towards the intersection she needed to hit to catch to my rover. Another seven count since the dynamic duo here took longer than expected to get their act together, and my last rover broke from the opposite hall, and whirred off.
It looked like me, or as close to me as I could make it. In the dim lightning I'd created by disabling certain lights, it looked as if I was taking advantage of the split up and was running away from their team... further into engineering, my own stomping grounds.
Eric went for the bait immediately, zipping past my hideout so fast that for a moment I'd doubted he was there.
“Mouse, I've got you now you little bitch!”
I wanted to jump out and beat the attitude out of him more than anything; after all it was his fault that unflattering word could even be used to describe me, if only in part. Instead I waited a three count and jumped out, heading towards the lowered blast door, a good distance away, As usual, Eric turned out to be my undoing, because Lissa turned at the yell.
“Eric behind you! It's Mouse!”
Eric trusted Lissa more than I expected, and I heard him skid to a stop. I poured on the speed. I was woefully out of shape but sure I could outrace both Eric and Lissa... but the problem is I needed time to hack open the blast door, so I needed some separation. I was perhaps a footstep from gaining it when the voltage poured in.
The copper chain mail did it's job, routing most of the voltage into the deck and grounding me; however I ate enough of it to force a stumble, and that was enough for Eric to keep me in sight. Heck he was even gaining. I could hear Lissa calling in the confirmed sighting.
“Team 7, Mouse confirmed in sector 52, headed towards sector 46. All teams converge.”
Lissa must have been the one to shoot first, because even as I was regaining steam and starting to pull ahead, I got zapped again. The suit again did it's job, but all the electricity did it's own. The leg Eric tagged me in went stiff and twitchy. And at most a full second later, he was on me, fists leading.
I dodged the first punch by ducking to the side, and blocked the second one with my hands... but I could only bleed that one of momentum; it still tagged me in the stomach. Luckily it wasn't enough to put me down. I saw the follow up kick coming, but it still managed to nick my temple. I forced my leg to work and spared Lissa a glance. She was there, watching and wringing her hands, shocked at the violence.
I don't think she's actually seen two guys fight before; not really. Not all out like Eric likes to do. And if anything, he as bigger than the last time we played like this. I could stop his punches before. At least Lissa was just watching, and wasn't reloading.
I couldn't let Eric pin me against the wall, so I charged him. My flying knee connected, twitchy leg or no, and bought me some space. If I turned he would be on me in a second... and getting me on the floor would be much worse than the wall. The knee rung his bell and I wasted no time, following it up with a palm strike to the cheek and an elbow strike to the temple.
None of that put him down. What had he been eating in the last month? Was he on drugs or something? I'd heard from my mother that some drugs made people resistant to pain and stronger than normal.
I could hit him at will, but where before I'd hurt him, now I just wasn't hurting him enough. Eric grinned at me though bloody lips.
“Spars are different than real fights.”
He waded right through me, taking the best punishment I had to offer, and somehow I was on the deck. He continued talking.
“When we spar, you get a hit in, and a point is declared. I have to hold my punches, and you never do. This is a fight Mouse, a real fight.”
I covered up just before he started pummeling. He didn't seem to be aiming for my face however, which was odd; He instead chose to work my body. I got in one good shot and broke his nose, but didn't have the leverage to do more than slow him down.
I wasn't about to give up though, not to Eric. It was Lissa that stopped things.
“Eric, enough! She's not going anywhere with you sitting on her, stop!”
Behind Lissa the security bot that had been shadowing both lowered it's own taser, a multi-use deal capable of lethal voltage in a pinch, with a loud clank that had to be manufactured, as Oddball's voice crackled through it.
“I concur Crewman. You will cease your assault immediately.”
He stopped, never looking away from me.
“You done?”
I nodded and lowered my hands, since I couldn't breathe. As after most fights, I was so tired I could barely move. It would take a good few minutes for me to recover. Longer this time then in the past, I suspected. My ribs creaked as he shifted, and actually got off. I couldn't help myself; I curled up. It seemed to help. Eric could probably dent steel with those punches.
“Good fight; that was for turning me blue.”
I gave him a look. He didn't seem to be lying about that, or holding a grudge. He was even smiling.
“You've been wanting to do that for awhile now.”
He nodded with a warming smile. Something was wrong here. I felt almost compelled to ask the next question.
“Why didn't you go for the jaw? You'd have likely knocked me out, and wouldn't have gotten your nose broken.”
I was under no illusions anymore that my jaw could take many of those punches of his. I was tough, but not that tough. He thumbed his nose then checked his split lip, spitting out a gob of blood like the crass barbarian he is.
“Simple. You're a girl. It isn't right to hit girls, and it's especially not right to hit girls in the face. I had to do one, but I didn't have to do the other.”
That son of a bitch. Before I knew it I was pummeling him again. Without technique however, it was over quickly. He wrapped me in his arms, pinning mine, and while it wasn't uncomfortable, I couldn't break free at all.
As the haze lifted from me I was half surprised the bot hadn't fired at me.
Lissa walked over and bopped him on the head with her empty taser, hard.
“Pig. You did that on purpose. Now let her go.”
He didn't right away, so Lissa bopped him again, this time so hard the taser broke. It was enough for him to look over her way with some clear annoyance.
Lissa and I shared a look. Just what was this jerk made of?
He kept staring and smiling at me like a dope. He seemed happy I'd busted him open, if anything. I couldn't figure it out, but it looked like Lissa had some idea. It was an awkward wait for the person I least likely wanted to see.
Well, here it was; the confrontation. I was good and caught, and cuffed with high strength plastic handcuffs that no one I knew of could break. While I could pick them, my hiding place for those lock picks I needed had all been searched. While they had missed a few, the ones they had missed weren't within easy reach of my hands; I didn't expect them to cuff my hands behind my back.
Eric was having his nose straightened and sprayed by Dirk, and all the traitors that were awake were here, packing this small hallway. There was no safe place to run to anymore, even if I could get to my feet. Security bot 14 was currently holding me down while Claire divested me of hold outs; she knew where I kept most of them. Roger looked on, an unreadable expression coating his face like ice.
“Let's see... smoke bombs, flash bangs, a device made to screw with equilibrium, two jury-rigged tasers, electromagnetic pulse grenade, two knives... and twelve lock-picks of various kinds. I think that's everything.”
Guido looked from the stash to me, incredulous.
“You could have taken these two easily with all this hardware, Mouse. Why didn't you?”
I shrugged as best I could. It was hard to explain something like that, especially when you didn't know yourself. But Roger wasn't about to leave it alone.
“Answer the question please, Mouse.”
“The tasers carried a slight risk of electrocution and nerve damage, higher than the standard ones we use. The smoke bombs and flash-bangs would have given me away in that situation, the pulse grenade would have shut down more than a few systems in engineering as well as the security bot, and the vertigo machine would have affected me too. The knives speak for themselves.”
Left unsaid was the higher level of acceptable damage they were willing to jump right to regarding me. Roger apparently couldn't understand it.
“So you just waited, tried to distract us with your drones, and then ran out of your hiding spot when their backs were turned?”
Why couldn't he just leave it alone?
“Yes, captain traitor, that's what I did. I don't have to be like you lot; I don't have to hurt my fellow crew members. I made the choice not to hurt those people that are ultimately responsible for the lives of my parents and mentor.”
Of course, I'd never trust them again, but that was beside the point. And if they didn't like the inference that they could be plotting something with the sleepers who weren't traitors, well, they had proven their loyalty to me already. They had proven what they were capable of in no uncertain terms, and the only real way I had to ensure they didn't pull anything else was with full computer access. That meant being in Oddball's good graces, which meant rejoining the crew.
Roger recoiled as if I had slapped him. I was wishing I could. Carla and Milla joined Lissa, so I turned to them.
“I owe you three an apology. I'm sorry for what I did, Lissa, Carla, Milla. You three may be incompetent, but at least you aren't traitors.”
Claire still had her foul hands on me, so I pulled away. The trio stared at me for a good silent minute, the others present staring at me in shock. I guess they didn't think I could admit to doing wrong... screw them all anyway. Roger found his voice.
“And now? What do you plan to do now?”
I shrugged again.
“You caught me. I'm done. I won't pull any more pranks or try to get revenge. I'll do my job and pull my weight like I always have; just don't expect me to like it, or you. Or you can kill me, freeze me, or lock me up, in which case you're still down a crew member and possibly need to ruin someone else's life to make your female quota.”
If they froze me or killed me after all, that left the count skewed, and I now knew that females would always be favored over males number wise. Easier to rebuild a population with more women and few men as opposed to few women and many men. Gen 1 and the Earthers made some interesting laws for the rest of us to follow. Roger sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
“It was only to buy time while we thought of something Mouse. You made this difficult; you were supposed to help me find a solution, and then everything would go back to normal.”
What? This was our captain, a traitor living in a dream world.
“Gene therapy. Hormonal therapy. My genitals removed and replaced surgically. Most of that can't even be reversed, not entirely, and the rest not easily. You expected me to come up with a way to get Oddball to relent, but I'll look like this for some time to come regardless. Frick, Oddball even changed my musculature positioning! That wasn't even necessary, but the bastard son of alien tech wanted me to be as true to a real girl as possible! And as far as I can tell, he succeeded! How are we supposed to just reverse that, exactly?”
Maybe our new doctors knew of a way to pull a full reversal, but I didn't. Chances weren't good they did either; I was more intelligent and studied harder than any of them. Not to mention the last couple weeks I'd had more free time than ever before, and a thirst for medical knowledge. According to the latest scans, my brain structure had even changed subtly, and that was terrifying. Oddball could well have me stupid, tinkering like that.
The fact that tests showed he didn't – that I was still as intelligent as ever - were cold comfort. At least Roger admitted he was an idiot.
“I don't know. I was kind of hoping you would.”
“Idiot. Even with Oddball's help, what's been done to me will take months to undo. Maybe years. And that's if we can get Oddball to go along. Considering we'd need another woman to magically appear for that, it isn't likely.”
“Then what about the other alternative? The one we discussed before freeze day?”
He meant unplugging Oddball and doing it all ourselves. I remembered that conversation clearly; it was the one where he should have warned me what the psycho AI had in it's chip mind for me. Well, me and William. William wigged me out; he had taken like a duck to water to the new him, and what was now expected of him... or her. William, now Willow, was adjusting without a single complaint.
It was creepy.
“That would work as far as limiting any further damage to the crew... but then the multiple surgeries and the like to reverse everything would likely take years. I don't even know if Dirk can pull them off.”
I was sure I could given a little time, but I couldn't really operate on myself. I was willing to try for Willow, but I was positive she didn't want the help. I wasn't quite willing to give up yet, but my fate was looking pretty grim.
“And put the entire mission at risk.” Roger finished for me.
I felt the entire mission was already at risk, but the sea of faces staring into me obviously felt I was the only risk here. I felt like I was back in the cafeteria, just after the vote all over again. Oh well, it was just more confirmation that I had been wrong about a great many things.
“Apology accepted.”
Those words shocked me to the core. Lissa and her brood were forgiving me? I dumped crap on her! I'd put tablets that made stinky gas in their morning drinks! I'd scheduled them for gynecology exams at 3am! She held her hand out.
What the hell. I turned my back and stuck mine out too; and rather than take the opportunity, she shook it.
“Mouse, you mean it? You're done?”
“Yes, I meant it Captain traitor, I will prank no more... or at least no more over this. Why do you ask?”
Always try to reserve your options for the future.
“Alright. Guido, Eric, Dirk. Escort mouse to medical and give her a full check up. Guido, after that escort Mouse to her quarters and keep an eye on her. The rest of you, shows over here. Back to work, and let's relieve those covering for us. Move it people; a tired crew is a sloppy crew.”
And he walked off, back straight and head high. What a jackass. Eric lifted me easily as the security bot let go.
“Come on, princess. Time to go get probed.”
We all knew the alien reference, but I didn't find it particularly funny.
“Dirk only gets to try that if you get probed first, Eric.”
I found his nearly insufferable smirk more tolerable than Roger's attitude at least. Still his comment, his pet name, deserved an answer.
“You try and put a glass shoe on me, and you'll find it broken in a very sensitive place of yours.”
He leered down at me, not at all intimidated.
“Well you do clean up as nicely as Cinderella did. We will have to see about a gown though. Doubt we have any left on this tub. Hold still a minute.”
I held, not really having a choice, and a minute later the cuffs came off. I stared up at Eric and tried not to massage my wrists. He shrugged into my raised eyebrow.
“The boss isn't here, and there are three of us. Besides, you gave your word.”
“I did. No more pranks due to the vote. No matter how much I want to.”
We marched down the empty halls to medical, where I hopped up on the medical bed of my own accord. The bed was just as automated as it had been a month ago, and was already calibrated, so it scanned me through my clothes while Dirk watched the readings.
“Well, minor miracle considering the lack of care, but you're one hundred percent health and fit for duty. Though a few of these readings... you been snacking on multivitamins?”
“Yep, had to after you guys sealed off the cafeteria.”
I missed my grape juice. Though I'd have to continue to miss it. Claire would want to get even after all, and Marion would help her.
“Well you used the wrong kind. You needed the pink ones. You're a bit out of whack as a result.”
The pink ones were for females, and the blue for males. Eric leaned in, looking over Dirks shoulder.
“Hey! Those are supposed to be confidential, jerk! You want your nose broken again?!”
“Let's see. Ahh, the question of the ages: breast tissue is growing in well. B cup already, looks like. I thought so!”
I hit him. I hit him, and no one stopped me; even through the obvious pain, he smiled down at me and opened his fool mouth again.
“Wonder if they'll stop there? How 'bout it, doc? Did malnutrition get to our cutie here?”
Eric was a pig.
“You know, for you... I'm not sorry. At all.”
He grinned again.
“I know.”
Then Dirk that fool, interrupted, his head still buried in the readout.
“Nope, doesn't look like it, but she should top out soon. Doubt she gets past a B cup personally.”
I hit him too. And his head rebounded nicely off the console. Glad he didn't break that actually, I'd hate to have to fix it. Eric's smirk grew, something I didn't think was possible.
“What about the violence? Could improper nutrition explain that?”
Guido's voice cracked through the room like an arc of lightning.
“Enough. Shut up and stop this garbage. Is she healthy, Dirk?”
Dirk nodded, too cowed to speak, the wimp.
“Alright. You two stay here. Dirk check those a second time, and take your time. But see to Eric first, he's bleeding again. Eric when Dirk is done, go to your quarters and sleep. Nothing else. Understand?”
Eric nodded, sullen.
“Let's go Mouse.”
And he just strode off; I had to hurry to catch up. I probably should just sneak off to annoy him; I had to fight down the urge. Where would I go anyway? The entire crew knew where I was supposed to be, and whose company I was supposed to be in.
Besides, I wanted an actual bed. The cot had been alright, but after that had been a succession of lightly padded floors. That and grape juice, which I dared not ask for. I could also use another shower; hanging out in some of the less used areas in engineering tended to make one a bit grimy, and it had been a few days. The cleaners could only do so much; something to work on perhaps, but well down the issue list.
We arrived and Guido waited for me to key it. I did and it opened. This day was full of surprises; I didn't expect Oddball to reinstate me so quickly. The place was much as I'd left it, the only differences were the vents were welded into their frames. Something I might want to undo... or not. The only food I had left here was powdered. The plants I'd been raising over in engineering, I could go back and get later. Guido would stick to orders.
I did at least have access to water, and some tea bags. Tea was one of the things that my mother had loved, and she had grown and bagged her own. I realized that I hadn't checked those plants in weeks, and they were probably dead.
“Guido, want some tea?”
He thought for a moment; a calculated moment designed just long enough to let me know he felt that I wasn't the only one who had to worry about poison threats. I could see it in his face; and that made me angry. If I had wanted to poison people, I could have and would have well before now. The cheap poisoning crap was more the modus operandi of the rest of the crew, not me. He must have seen something in my face too.
“Sure.”
I started the water, using the old fashioned kettle my mother loved. Hers, but mine now. Most people just waited for the water in our sinks to heat, but mom had always been old fashioned. I had taken after her, after a fashion; I hadn't even thought about making tea any differently. What other little choices did I make like that? Choices that made me different from the rest of the crew, that I did simply because it was how my parents had done things? Silly thought; it didn't matter.
I sat down on my couch, and Guido took my father's chair. My chair now, I guess. Both were old, but looked like new; they had been made with space and generational use in mind. My pad was handy, and with full access restored, I could once again educate myself.
I closed my eyes briefly and picked a book at random; which turned out to be an old text on languages. Not my normal fare, but the rules of random book picks were clear; if you did it, you stuck with what you got as long as you could, and I hadn't even started reading yet. It could be interesting... somehow. Even though we only used one language now, at one time humanity had apparently used thousands.
The kettle shrieked and I made the tea, giving another surreptitious once over to my kitchen. The physical and mental inventory matched, and I really wish I was wrong. Guido sat in silence, watching me. Orders or not, it was unsettling how his gaze never wavered. He had abstained on the vote.
Ten minutes later I was done with my tea and done with the language rules on some ancient desert people's language, which I had to admit seemed silly. Babylonia was an ancient city, as I recall. I went into my room, returning with clean drawstring pants and an oversized shirt.
I had prioritized food and water over clothes when I left in a hurry, which meant that I couldn't grab more than a few changes of anything, and those old clothes had long since become more than grimy (I couldn't do laundry in hiding, or at least not well) or had ceased to fit. Just like I had ceased to fit in some of the more tight spaces the ship had to offer. Stupid traitorous hips. Guido looked at my bundle, so I made it obvious.
“I'm going to shower.”
I checked my shower and all the fittings. I wouldn't put it past certain crew members to try to one up me for revenge; everything checked out. Then I checked my shampoo and soap. Both clear of anything I or my pad could detect. With a shrug I adjusted the water and stepped in. It was pleasant but short; all showers cut off automatically. The few illegal showers I'd had while on the run had been much longer, and longer than they should have been; but now it was back to restraint and the proper spacer mindset.
The draw string pants were very large; they were built to be baggy, like the shirt; which meant they fit. Even so, it was a close thing. The shirt was still very roomy, which meant it didn't irritate anything... sensitive. My old clothes went in the recycler, rather than the laundry. Even if I could manage the impossible and get them clean again, they didn't really fit. I'd need new ones soon.
Guido was gone when I left the bathroom; he wasn't in the kitchen, my room or my parent's room. He hadn't somehow gotten into the bathroom without me noticing. With a shrug I returned to my reading. With my workload finished I didn't need to stress anything.
Guido returned with food. He plunked down a covered platter of stir fry vegetables and held out a fork. I took it, and he pulled the cover off the platter and started eating.
“It's from my own kitchen. Made with beef bullion added. I'm no Marion, but I do alright.”
And he was eating it himself; showing in no uncertain terms that if it was poisoned, he would be feeling it too. A quick taste revealed it was good. Guido did himself a disservice, though I suppose it was hard to screw up stir fry. Maybe if you added too much oil or something. I couldn't resist a little needling though.
“You left. I could have gone on the run again.”
He shook his head, eating a green bean.
“You said you wouldn't. I believe you. Besides, you look tired – and hungry.”
“Saw me looking through the pantry, huh?”
“Yep.”
Before I knew it the platter was empty. Guido collected the forks and put them in the platter and sealed it up. Then it was back to staring at me. Well I knew it wasn't because of the dirt anymore, and the clothes weren't an issue; everyone had at least one set like this. So he was noting differences. I knew there were some, but still, twenty minutes of it was a long time. I wasn't even sure he was aware of what he was doing.
I was now ready for sleep, but I didn't dare try to lock Guido out of my bedroom. I didn't want something to go wrong, and get the blame for it because I wasn't in view the entire time. Having Guido leave on his own to get lunch was bad enough. Besides, my couch was still plenty comfortable. Made of the same foam my bed was, in fact.
I heard my pad drop to the floor, but didn't care; it could survive it. The couch was big enough to stretch out on and I did so.
…....
For the fifth time today, I had to turn down a polite request from a crew mate that they be allowed to see Mouse. This time it was Joe; the first one had been Seth. The second had been Claire. Why they couldn't understand what a complete cluster of a drama that would be, I had no idea. They were on Mouse's excrement list as is, seeing them walk into her quarters to do... whatever they wanted to do, wouldn't help things at all.
“No Joe. Like I told Seth, now is not the time for any of this. Finish your shift.”
My surprise was total when he answered me in a complete sentence.
“Dude, today's shift is over.”
“My other point still stands.”
He clicked off and I looked at my pad. He was right, our shifts were over. I could finally sleep. Half the crew wanted me to punish Mouse for her... indiscretions, and the other half wanted to apologize. It was too much to deal with so soon after catching her; We could deal with it in a meeting, tomorrow. I'd just call the crew together and let them air their grievances at once. Once we were all rested, Mouse included. She had looked like hell. And to be confronted and captured by the two people she hated most; she had displayed amazing restraint, and so had they.
I still had no idea what should be done. This entire situation should be on how to deal with Oddball, not how to punish Mouse. Or make things up to her. The best way to make this entire debacle up to her would be to make sure Oddball couldn't do things like this ever again; that we either had the veto power over the insane AI or it was safely shunted away from critical systems and couldn't enforce it's ramblings. Instead the crew was still focused on itself; on symptoms of the problem, and not the problem.
It was maddening.
The walk to habitat deck did nothing to clear my head, and what I saw there only made it worse. There were no fewer than twenty people standing in front of Mouse's door, talking in either muted whispers or raised voices. I had to get through them to get to my quarters.
“All of you go home and go to sleep. Right now.”
“But Captain, I...”
“Save it. Whatever it is, whatever you all want, save it for tomorrow, when we have clear and rested heads. Clear out. Now.”
I waited until the last of them was in their own quarters, keeping my face as stern as I could. Only when the I was sure they wouldn't come back out, I keyed Mouse's door and went in.
She was on the couch, asleep. There was a large plate of something on the table, empty. Guido was there in the lone family room chair, just watching her sleep. He spoke so quietly I had to work to make it out over the ever present woosh of air. For an engineer, it seemed slightly scandalous to have the most archaic air unit on the entire ship, but it was. But it wasn't broken, and it would be used until it was.
“Hey boss. Had to disarm the door chime; everyone was pressing it and I thought it'd wake her up.”
Wasn't part of my orders, but initiative is good. I should have thought of that myself. I can only blame my own fatigue for not thinking that everyone would want to confront Mouse in some way before now, confined to quarters or not.
“She give you any trouble?”
Guido shifted, rolling his neck to work kinks out. He had been in that position for some time then.
“Nah, not a bit. Even tested her; went to get food. She didn't move, though she could have. I had to tell her the food was my own, and eat it first before she'd touch it.”
That was disquieting, but Guido shirking his duty was even worse.
“You left her alone?”
He shrugged.
“She was hungry; I was hungry. I had an alarm on the door she couldn't easily disable, and had that alarm protocol alarmed itself. She didn't even try.”
Left unspoken was the 'trust has to start somewhere' motto... the one which I had thrown in Mouse's own face months ago. I felt the irony bite with jagged teeth. Then Guido, the guy only slightly more wordy than Joe, offered something that surprised me.
“She looks so small and fragile, lying there. Doesn't she?”
I looked. I had to admit, she did. Much like a human version of those little birds with fragile bones we saw on nature vids. She seemed much smaller than when she was awake somehow, but for Guido to notice that, let alone say it... something was wrong here.
“Yeah she does. Look, you good to stay here? Continue watching?”
Just watching Guido; we don't need any other misunderstandings or issues poisoning the trust waters.
“Yeah. I'll sleep on the floor, nothing I haven't done before.”
“I'll get you some bedding man, wouldn't leave you hanging like that.”
I could understand the floor; he wouldn't want to take her bed, or her parent's bed, and the couch was taken. With a wave I went went out into the still empty hall, and to my own quarters. I snagged my own spares and brought them back.
Guido met me at the door.
“Thanks. Go get some sleep of your own, Captain. You look like shizz.”
I didn't want to go get sleep of my own; I wanted to watch Guido, watching Mouse. I wanted to watch Mouse myself, to make sure she wasn't still plotting something. But instead I went back home. My liquor stash called, but I resisted; I was close enough to a drunk as it was, and I remember those instructional videos well.
I lay in bed and stared at my ceiling. I always had trouble following orders; even if they were my own. Something else for irony to chew on me for.
Another day, and back to the grind. No more being tired, lonely, or safe. Instead I had to resume my duties and regular schedule... under watch, naturally. Today the watch consisted of Oddball and an anklet.
The anklet was thin, so it could be hidden by clothes, or fit under my suit if I needed to EVA. But I knew it was there, and so did everyone else. Any tampering at all by me, and an alarm would sound. Then a sticky radioactive dye would spray, and coat my leg. Then the security bots would reactivate and come to my location, and stun me into submission.
So the first problem with my new life was clothes. Oh, not in the way the crew would think, I'm sure. It seemed that Oddball had been thinking ahead; when I got back to my new quarters, the first thing I noticed were the stacks of brand new blue jeans, shirts, panties, and bras. All of them were, according to the tags, actual denim and cotton. Earth make, somehow, for all that it seemed impossible. I mean, they had to be fifty years old or more, and they looked brand new. The boots (three pair!) fit perfectly, and they gleamed. When I put them on, they were even stiff, something I'd never had to deal with before. Just the thought of wearing this stuff to work on engineering crap made me feel guilty, and if anyone else, especially the girls, saw me in clothes like this? Beyond bad.
And that didn't even cover the cotton pants and various dresses now occupying my closet. What the heck was I ever going to use a dress for anyway? Or shorts? They were so far beyond impractical it was humorous. At least there were a few pair of overalls next to the jeans, even if they were new too. They looked like they'd fit too, even if they were different.
I couldn't wear the stuff I used to. I could probably still make it work, even if it didn't fit well... but my old clothes were all missing. Recycled. Oh well, if needed I could just redirect the mob that would be angry at the rationing Oddball's way.
The underwear was like being wrapped in a very thin layer of foam. The jeans were tight, and didn't offer full mobility. It was weird, they didn't fit like what I was used to at all, but they were comfortable. The shirt was also tight, but stretchy. It didn't scratch at all. The overalls fit over all that, but was still a closer fit than I was comfortable with; they just didn't offer the room I was used to.
And there was some kind of design on the front pocket; embroidered in pink thread, of all things. I wasn't sure what it was supposed to be, some sort of animal. A biologist, I was not. Somehow it all fit perfectly which meant the rest of this stuff would too. Walking into my kitchen revealed fresh tea, still steaming, and with actual sugar in it; the proper amount according to my taste. The tea was sitting next to a dish I vaguely remembered, called french toast.
The last time I'd had french toast had been as a kid barely high enough to sit in a chair, mainly because the stuff we used to make it, some sort of animal egg substitute; I didn't even remember what the recipe for it was. I'm sure it was on the network somewhere; maybe Marion had it. But regardless, somehow the same faerie or gnome or whatever fantasy creature delivered the clothes also delivered breakfast.
Oddball had been sandbagging much more than clothes, it seemed. How did he even cook breakfast for anyone? He wasn't supposed to have access at all; I certainly didn't give him permission. How had he even done it? It wasn't like the security bots could cook with their hands.
The answer came when Guido strolled right in like he owned the place. Of course. I am a major idiot.
“Good, you're awake. Running late, you should eat quickly.”
I held up the plate.
“Where did you find the stuff for this? I thought we were out.”
“Marion found it in the kitchen when she woke up this morning. Oddball said it was for you, for and I quote: 'proper nutrition.' There was an entire case of it, all earmarked for you.”
That had to be bull. French toast wasn't nutritious. And Oddball couldn't earmark food like that, could he? What was his game? Guido held up his hands.
“Hey, eat it or not. I checked it, it's not poisonous or anything. I don't know any more than that. But breakfast or not, you need to hurry.”
He wasn't really right on that score, I had plenty of time. But I could see that he was anxious; fidgeting. He wanted to be moving, in any direction, and I didn't blame him there. I ate as quickly as manners allowed and downed my tea.
The schedule for today was routine computer maintenance of the back up life support systems, something that I didn't expect I'd be allowed to work on, especially without expert supervision. But with all the searching done for me, most of the crew had been forced to keep odd hours and needed sleep now. It was kind of odd thinking that I was probably the best rested of the crew, but it was probably true.
I walked right by the cafeteria; there was nothing I wanted there. I wasn't exactly banned from the place, but our loving Captain had decided that it was best that I not spend too much time in public areas. Which sounded really stupid since I had an hour scheduled for physical activity later today. The same hour as everyone else, and Oddball wasn't taking no for an answer. When captain Traitor had asked him to reschedule, he'd just been pointed to the charter which demanded a certain amount of time 'fraternizing' among the crew. Then he'd been ignored as Roger tried to plead extenuating circumstances. So I was going to gym today.
But for now it was tedium. I arrived a little early, and didn't see a minder. Not even the electrical kind; it was if, once Guido had peeled off to the cafeteria, I was alone. It was an illusion of course; someone had to be watching, somewhere. Either way, it didn't matter; I was reformed, after all.
The back ups were a bank of twelve slaved computers, the size of a small locker. They contained the systems for oxygen recycling, air flow, temperature, and pressure. The water and waste recovery were handled elsewhere, and their backups were also further down the hall in another room. I took them offline one at a time and ran their diagnostics. With only one down, the other eleven could handle it if main life support suddenly took a dive; and if not, there was another twelve computers down the hall designed to kick in. The back up for the back up. The entire ship was engineered to take no chances.
It turned out that there were two chips, one controlling vent air flow, and the other dealing with temperature control, that were both perhaps faulty. I replaced them, and some frayed wiring in machine number 3. I didn't take chances.
How had that wiring gotten frayed, anyway? It couldn't be that old.
A little jiggling revealed the problem; there was an edge, and every time the coolant fan was forced to kick on, it moved the wire into the edge. Not enough to worry about... unless it happened over around 10 years, a few times a day or so. I ended up splicing a longer wire and taping it up.
Should solve the problem until I retire. Felt good to be doing proper engineering again, no matter how time consuming or tedious. Lunch time rolled around with the job only half done. I know because the chime on my pad went off; it seemed as if I was supposed to take lunch off. I didn't want to, but I really didn't want to end up fighting over it. If I'd woken up earlier, I could have just packed a lunch.
Oh well, time to just be a zoo animal.
I strode through the halls with purpose. I didn't need to bother; the halls were empty. The cafeteria however, wasn't. It was more full than I'd seen in... well, ever. There was almost the entire shift waiting for me, and as expected, they all stared the moment I walked in. I almost froze, but managed to keep going. My voice was even steady.
“Hello Marion. Can I get today's special please?”
Marion's smile was warm and inviting. She didn't seem to be mad at me for the past at all.
“Sure thing, coming right up.”
I sat down at a table alone. A small one nestled next to the counter, and not my normal seat. While many stared, none approached.
The special was, of course, a salad with a piece of bread that Marion made. This salad seemed to be a bit different, however. It had something other than the botanist made dressing on it. To cap things off, Marion set down a glass of purple liquid next to it; a glass which wasn't grape juice colored, but looked familiar. A sip proved it was pomegranate. Actual powdered pomegranate, mixed with water. It was another favorite of mine, and another thing we were supposed to be out of. I looked up into Marion's smiling face.
“Oddball sent it. It's all yours. It has additives, but I had it checked out; nothing harmful.”
She sat down with her own drink, tea while I processed that. So she was under orders, or at least strong suggestions, on what to feed me? I looked up to find her eying my clothes; she dragged a finger gently across my new shirt.
“And what about this stuff on the salad?”
I'd never seen it before.
“Actual ranch dressing. Nothing wrong with it at all, other than starting life as a powder.”
We didn't discriminate against powders here.
“You got a list of the ingredients?”
She slid her pad over with a knowing smirk. She knew she didn't have anything to worry about. I took a glance; all medical jargon. As smart as I was, my weakness was medical knowledge, but while some of the list looked familiar, none of it was blatantly poisonous. I pulled out my own pad and copied it; I'd cross check it later. Now on to the other concern. I picked at my salad while watching my fellow loving crew. Some of them took their food very seriously; this sort of behavior smacked of favoritism. If anyone else noticed the clothes it would all but seal the deal, so to speak.
Knowing my recent luck, they all had.
The conversations had been replaced by whispering. Marion sat there in silence, for which I was grateful; it allowed me to hear at least a few of the other people whispering about me. Mostly due to the sheer gall I had, daring to show my face after what I did. It was only after Marion's hand closed over mine that I realized I'd somehow bent my fork. I did my best to straighten it out while glaring at Hitomi; I knew the others were thinking it, but I'd HEARD her.
My pad chimed; I'd received a message from Marion.
So, new clothes too? Oddball must be trying to apologize.
Yes, thank you Marion. I really wanted to be reminded of that right now. I guess it showed, because my pad chimed again.
Sorry.
I shook my head and whispered back; I didn't trust the pads anymore, not entirely.
“Not your fault. Might as well get used to it, this would have happened eventually.”
She took the hint.
“That doesn't make it any better. Tell you what, you finish up, I'll glare them off.”
And she did. Marion wasn't exactly intimidating, not like Claire could be, but she sat there next to me and glared for all she was worth. It was comical, and I had to stifle laughter more than once; it didn't help when I caught her trying hard not to smile herself. A thought occurred to me.
“So, what other things did Oddball drop off here?”
I had the sneaking suspicion the juice wasn't the last of it. The dressing, while good, (maybe even better than the stuff the botanists made) was something I'd never had before. That probably meant it was popular with the earlier crews.
It could have just been my imagination, but I actually did feel more energetic as I walked back to engineering. I actually hoped it was my imagination, I didn't like the alternative.
The other redundancies were in similar shape to the first, but I managed to get them done, not just in the same day, but a good hour before my shift was due to end. Plenty of time to check on the sleepers. I met more people in the corridors this time, though they stayed just as silent as before; fine by me. I half expected to meet someone assigned to watch me and make sure I wasn't trying any active of sabotage. It would have been a terrible insult, but I wouldn't have been surprised.
Instead I was alone as I made my rounds; it felt colder in here than it should. It took me some time to figure out that it wasn't just because I had less insulation. There was a hairline fracture in coolant tank three. Now coolant tank three wasn't anything dangerous; it was a coolant tank that fed the liquid coolant into one of the main computers in the room; they generated a lot of heat. Left unchecked it could be quite the problem, but a glance at the screen showed the computer was only up 5.1 degrees. I could probably just spot weld a patch on it, but that seemed too slipshod.
Instead I used some nanite patch to hold it for next shift, then topped off the tank. Then I mopped up so no one fell and busted their rear on the deck plating. The joys of being an engineer. At least I was using something absorbent; those mops in the old movies we watched always seemed inefficient.
I should probably just replace the thing, but if I did something like that, this soon, questions would likely be asked and my work torn apart to no purpose. I was already half sure my loving crew would be checking the redundancies, no need to stick my neck out spending time repairing something that would automatically send red flags.
So I just logged it instead and started removing the vent covers the crew installed. They would need to come down anyway, before dust or other particulates built up and air quality was affected. I would likely be dealing with most of that alone... part of my punishment for not rolling over, though no one would put it that way or even mention it directly. Suited me just fine anyway, it was tedious busywork that meant my loving crew would leave me alone.
They had been very careful closing off the vents; very precise manufacturing sturdy things like bars and even full plates. Even with less time spent taking things down than putting things up, I could only remove three in an hour. They really hadn't wanted me able to open them from the other side.
Of course, now that I knew what to look for from this side, I was reasonably sure I could do it without burning my face off or something similar.
My alarm chimed again. I was now off shift, and it was exercise time. I wasn't looking forward to it; either I would get treated as a pariah or with kid gloves, and I wasn't sure which one would be worse. I had made this particular bed though, at least in part, and I would have to lie in it. Another saying from mom regarding personal responsibility.
The boots were still stiff, clumping more loudly than I wanted on the deck plating. At least I hadn't scuffed them; the traces of coolant on the bottom wouldn't be caustic either. I could just see the crew's outrage at getting new boots and then ruining them the first day they were worn... almost made me want to do it. But no, the only one I'd be hurting in the end would be myself; I doubted my feet would grow anymore, they had always been as tiny as the rest of me, which meant if I maintained all this new stuff properly it could last for decades. There were no organisms aboard the Magellan to speed up decay; not loose, anyway. Only use really mattered.
The gym was full by now, of course. I had one of the longer routes getting here, which meant the place was nearly at its full day shift capacity. All conversation stopped and nineteen people stared as I slipped in. I kept my eye on them, or as many as I could.
I sidled along the wall the shower rooms were set in. I reached the door to the male one first, and it buzzed at me. Yes, I know door, thank you for pointing out I now lack the one thing required for entry into this exclusive club. At least, until I disable Oddball and rewire you.
The other door, the one further down, gave a gentle ping that I almost didn't hear over the ambient noise and opened immediately. Did it always make a sound like that? I don't think I'd ever heard it before, and the other door just slid open. The short hallway had one more twist in it than the other room too; three to the other room's two. According to all the schematics I'd ever checked, that was the only difference in the two places; but the schematics were wrong.
There was the same bank of lockers on the nearby wall, the same sinks and taps and cabinets inset where supplies were stored. There the similarity ended. Most of the shower stalls were actual stalls, with a divider that was probably made of coated plastic. The dividers were a soft kind of green, and matched what had to be actual tile of some kind on the floor. Over the sinks were the same polished metal mirrors the guys had, but inset in the wall next to them were several full body versions, about six feet tall.
There were toilets of course, inset in the back wall, but no urinals and the stalls for everything were actually colored too; the toilets themselves were a darker green than the stall walls and looked to be actual porcelain rather than steel. There was a machine inset in the corner that I didn't recognize but knew by reputation; mom was always complaining about how it was out and only offered inferior 'products' now. She had called them products, but what they really were was a form of diaper or something woven of leftover reeds from some of our plants. I think I'd rather just stain my clothes, personally.
The placement of the drain and fans I'd seen so far pointed to more of both needed to cover the room, and didn't match the blueprints of the Magellan on file; something that probably should have surprised me, but didn't. Of course it wasn't empty, that would have been too easy. And of course, it was my three least favorite people occupying it, in the middle of washing themselves. They all stopped when I came in for the beat of a heart before Lissa spoke up.
Once again, it was a day of minor surprises.
“Sheesh Mouse, don't just stand there, someone will run into you.”
And she just turned away; alright, fine, I could do this. I couldn't see anything but their feet anyway, and they couldn't see me. The only reason I knew who it was were the clothes carefully folded and placed on a bench.
I quickly peeled off my things and folded them up like they had and picked a stall. I noticed immediately the soap on this side of things was different. It was a body wash, same as the guys used, but it smelled different and had a different feel when rubbed on skin. Less grainy and more soft. It really didn't feel like it would get grease or oil off of anything; I would have to bring my own tomorrow. I was stupid for forgetting.
At least the water was the same. I lathered up and rinsed off in a hurry; I heard others come in and start up. Not a word was said to me of course, but other than greetings there didn't seem to be much talking going on in general. I waited until things were quiet, far linger than I normally would. I wasn't hiding, exactly, just trying to avoid conflict.
When I stepped out (because opening the door first and peeking out would look stupid) they were waiting for me.
The expected trio of Lissa, Carla, and Milla, who I had really expected to have moved on to mooning over Roger like love-struck idiots by now, Marion, Hitomi, Tamie, and Opal. They all took one look at me standing there completely naked and collectively shook their heads. I thought I caught the words “it's not fair” whispered from one direction, but I couldn't tell who said it or even if I'd heard it right.
Marion snagged my arm gently.
“Come on, time to learn some things.”
Lissa snorted.
“Won't help; anything you try will be wasted effort on that savage.”
“It doesn't matter Lissa, it's my time to waste.”
Marion wasn't pulling me anywhere just yet. I'd probably have to listen to her, whatever she was planning, but I wasn't about to do it nude.
“Clothes first.”
She nodded and let me go, moving nonchalantly to where I'd have to pass her if I tried to leave. Lissa and her cronies stayed put and kept watching, silently. It was creepy. The frown that swept across her face when I put on my bra was rather odd… what was that all about? I reached for my pants and Lissa spoke again; loudly. My traitorous body jumped.
“You can't wear those out there. We all wear exercise clothes when we exercise, and you should too.”
Well I was all for not ripping the jeans and shirt up, but there was one problem with all that.
“Don't have anything else to wear.”
And it was true. My best lounging and exercise clothes had disappeared with everything else, while I had been giving nightmares to my loving crew, and if my exercise clothes still existed they were in a locker on the other side of the shower stall wall. Carla spoke up, far too softly and not meeting me in eye.
“Look over there. A security drone was in here earlier, and assigned you a locker.”
I hopped into my underwear and stomped over. Yep, it was there, a name plate in silver lettering which didn't match any of the gray lettering on either side. Mouse Zamir. Not my real name, of course, but since it was what everyone called me that didn't really matter. Like all the others in the bank of lockers, it was basically a small thing the size of a suitcase, colored yet another different shade of green. Like all lockers in here, it had no locks, putting the lie to the name. People wouldn't mess with other people's belongings in the lockers anyway.
I hadn't even when on the run. There were some things you just didn't do.
A quick twist and the locker sprang open soundlessly; the hinges were perfectly maintained. And there, inside, folded neatly and encased in plastic, were more clothes. Brand new, non-faded clothes, like the ones in my quarters. Where was he hiding this stuff? This was insane, I hadn't seen anything like this in the commissary. They even had actual sizes listed on tags, same as the rest.
Turning around I saw jealous fires lit in the eyes of those surrounding me.
I pulled the items out of the crinkly plastic and shook them out. They were my size, which meant that they wouldn't fit anyone else here, though the shirt was loose in the chest; I think Oddball is trying to tell me something. The pants fit perfectly, no stretch needed, though they could. It was a matched set of real cotton; it had to be. The shade was… maroon? Some sort of dark red.
Marion snagged my arm again and toweled my head off a second time; apparently she was digging for gold or something, judging by the pressure applied.
“Ow, Marion, stop!”
“No way, you have to get your hair dry.”
“I was dry five minutes ago! Enough already!”
“Okay, okay, fine, stand right there. I'm going to teach you how to brush your hair.”
What? When the towel was removed I was in front of the full-length mirror. I should stop this now; I reached for the brush and got my hand slapped away.
“I already know how to brush my hair.”
“No, you know how to do it the guy way. I'm going to teach you how to do it the right way.”
She then ran her own brush, a modern thing I'd never seen before through my hair more times than I thought was strictly necessary. She was using a sonic one after all, it shouldn't need more than three passes to get all particulates out, ever. I lost count after pass twenty.
Finally, she let me go and stepped back with a sigh.
“There, all done. How does it look?”
It had done something. My hair seemed to glow in the light; did her brush do something weird to hair? Maybe it was the body wash used? Everyone else still here (and why were they still here, what was so interesting about this sort of thing, exactly?) gave appreciative nods I could see in the mirror.
“Looks very good.” - Lissa.
“That shade is darker than her old shade, isn't it?” - Milla.
“I don't think so, looks the same, just more lustrous. Hiding out and eating pills seemed to agree with her. Maybe if I try it I can finally lose that pesky five pounds!” - Carla.
This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.
“You guys do know how vapid you sound right now, right?”
Carla fired right back, unperturbed.
“Gals. We're all gals here, Mouse.”
“Fine, you're all vapid sounding gals.”
Lissa grinned. She was plotting something, I just knew it. That or she was insane; she had been frowning not seconds before. Maybe she was a sociopath, or something similar? Her mood certainly seemed to change enough. Marion was a bit more understandable, if only because she felt the desire to share.
“We never quite outgrow the desire to play dress up Mouse, and you're fertile ground there. You actually need the help, though the clothes thing is a little off-putting.”
Just what I needed to hear. So of course Carla had to add to it; I was beginning to have some dark thoughts about her. She might actually be more vapid and self-absorbed than Lissa, and I didn't understand how that was possible.
Maybe living on a ship with a small population was having more of an effect on the remnants of humanity than I suspected. I should probably ask Jennifer. But then again, I was more than a little afraid of what I'd learn if I did. I knew now there were different levels of survival. I also knew that Oddball could take his pick between them if he wanted; the only brakes put on him were happiness, which was something he seemed capable of ignoring somehow. After all, I sure wasn't happy right now.
“Alright come on. Today is tennis day for us, and I want to play against the ace of the ship.”
Tennis was a sport I was pretty good at. Better than most at least, mainly because it didn't rely as much on size or strength. Just quick reflexes, and I'd always had those in spades. Lissa oddly enough was my counterpart there; she was really good at tennis. We didn't often play each other, though; the boys didn't usually play with the girls.
Just another way for her to rub my current situation in.
The sport on the other side was football, and Siegfried was taking my normal spot at quarterback. He had since my indisposition, and done a credible job though my team hadn't won a single game since they betrayed me. Poetic justice, of a sort.
The rackets were out of their locker, and everyone began by picking one from the rack as we went by. Though some thought it did, it didn't matter which one you picked; they were literally all the same unless they were broken. A few of them were but still stored with the rest because it was too much of a pain to move them into the storage room called 'the land of broken toys' after some weird old story or another. There were only 29 left out of fifty, and even though we could manufacture more no one wanted to be the one to break another old Earth artifact, so we were very careful with them.
The tennis balls were of different vintage. They were a mix of rubber and plastic, made to simulate real tennis balls as closely as possible by the engineers of generation 2. They swore forever after that they had nailed the characteristics exactly, but doubts had been raised, and rightfully so in my opinion.
But since they were the best we had, and neither I nor Cargie had an old ball to test so the best we could do is a slightly different clone of the ball we had and a lot of field testing. Still, I had time, if I wanted to spend my free time that way; years and years worth of time could be dedicated to finding the perfect tennis ball.
That sounded pretty stupid, actually. Wonder how the second generation crew avoided laughter over such activities?
The nets themselves were stretched from posts that came up from the floor and were already set up. I wonder who had done that? The paint that symbolized the chalk was also set, but that was usually done by robot in order to ensure accuracy.
I looked up after going to the farthest court, and saw Lissa across from me, ball in hand, grin on her face, just waiting for me to notice. Carla and Milla had their own match right beside us though they weren't actually playing, and a table over Marion and Claire were staring at us. I couldn't bring myself to care who else was where, since the other side of the gym was just as silent.
Well, not entirely silent. A glance showed they were all looking at me and whispering things I couldn't hear. Having been on the other side of that situation, I couldn't help but get creeped out. Especially when I thought I heard the word “skirts” before Eric was properly shushed. I turned back to where Lissa was preening.
My traitorous eyes had to admit that she looked good; her own clothes had been dyed and altered by her to fit her taste, a white stretchy shirt and a pair of gray pants that coated her like paint before flaring out at the ankles. They were older than my own, far older, but well cared for.
I hunched in and gripped the racquet like I'd been shown by my mom all those years ago, and gave Lissa the nod. She started things off with a nice dirty serve designed to make me reach, and the match was on.
……..
It was like watching poetry. That was the only thing I could come up with. The both of them straining, working to overcome the other, to overcome their own limits. It was like watching ballet or an interpretive dance, with both of them relying on each other for their choreography. For all his lack of education, Eric summed it up best.
“This is hotter than booster fuel.”
And like Eric, I desperately wanted to see the same scene with those little skirts female tennis players used to wear. Oddball actually had to chime at us, to get us moving again and back to our game; there wasn't a single guy not watching. Even some of the girls were, jealousy plain on their faces as they watched the two streak across the court almost faster than the eye could follow. At least Mouse and Lissa never noticed; once the match started they only had focus for each other; Mouse hadn't even heard the chime, as far as I could tell.
We managed to make it look like we were playing, but we weren't really giving it our all. My side won and we wound things up a good ten minutes early and took seats. I suspected the other team had thrown harder than usual for just this outcome, but there was no way I could prove it. The outcome of the match, however, was never in any doubt.
……
The outcome was never in any doubt of course; I made Lissa work for it, but she beat me two sets to one. Even worse, I couldn't stand after she scored the final point; my stamina had taken a huge hit between the surgery and lack of exercise. Lissa had to cross the net rather than meet me in the middle as was customary. The best I could do was gasp out the words, but I managed.
“Good match.”
She reached down and pulled me up.
“Good match. I can tell, when you get used to how things work now, you're going to beat me like a drum.”
She meant when I got used to how my body worked now, something she knew I didn't want to do. She wasn't even breathing hard as she said it. I fought down the ugliness that boiled up; if she noticed she didn't comment.
“Maybe. You were always good at this, so I doubt I'll ever have it easy.”
I had a stupid wobble to my step; Lissa steadied me with an arm as we walked to the nearest bench. She also shot some kind of look that I couldn't read at Claire, who sported a bored look in the face of it. Marion came over without a backward glance at her, acting her usual bubbly self.
“That was amazing! Just like those old vids of the pros going at it! You alright Mouse? You look a little out of it.”
“Overdid things a bit.”
She nodded and slapped a water bottle into my hand.
“Makes sense. Just take a breather, it won't kill you to hang out with us after exercise period is over. You know, instead of running out first thing like you do normally.”
I shrugged to hide my wince as I shifted. My legs felt like lead weights. I was the most stupid genius humanity had to offer; my mom would be thrilled to know.
“You know, things to do, games to play. But yeah, think I'll wait a bit. So you all hang out here, doing what? Talking?”
My desire to wait had nothing at all to do with the number of females currently in the showers. Absolutely none at all. Carla chimed in.
“Well, sometimes. I mean the cafeteria is better most of the time, but usually people leave the gym alone for a time after exercising, so it makes a good place to be sort of private. That and you aren't the only one who overdoes things from time to time.”
Her rueful smile looked genuine. It was matched by Lissa's own.
“She's not even the only one today. I know you griped about my fitness before Mouse, but there was no need to run me into the ground today.”
“But I didn't…!”
“She's right. She did no such thing; you just wanted to beat her too badly, Lissa.”
“Guilty as charged Marion, but can you really blame me?”
I watched as Claire, now dressed in her normal clothes again, walked out of the gym without a single word. Whatever.
“No, I don't blame you. In fact I'm going to beat you next time; just as soon as I recover.”
Marion pulled me to my feet.
“Come on, shower time. You need to hurry before the stink sets in.”
I'm pretty sure stink doesn't work like that.
“Pretty sure stinks don't work like that Marion.”
“Not you, silly! Your clothes; you don't want to let them sit around, or you'll be fragrant tomorrow.”
Yeah, stinks didn't work like that for clothes either; all indications pointed to sonic cleaning working best when cloth was dry… and my new sweats were absolutely not dry.
“Don't worry, time to show you more secrets.”
“I really don't want to know anymore secrets.”
Lissa put an arm around me; I almost fell before she switched to holding me up.
“Don't be like that Mouse, you're one of us now. You get to know all the things you never wanted to know, and experience them all first hand. I insist. Besides, proper care of clothes like yours? If you don't take all necessary steps, well, no female on this ship will be happy with you.”
She grinned widely into my face; she knew without any doubt how frightening a prospect having half the population angry at me was… especially since it was over next to nothing and I already had most of the population of the ship wanting me punished anyway.
“Alright, alright, show me your massive secret unknown to mankind.”
I could do puns. Judging by the smiles, I could do good puns.
Once dragged back into the locker room I was sat down on my old friend Mr. bench, where I wearily stripped. This time, they wouldn't even let me keep the underwear, citing general yuckiness; whatever that was. There were replacements, of course, placed carefully in my locker; I had missed them in the rush before… or at least I hoped I had.
Another set of brand new underwear; they even matched.
I wanted to throw them as far as I could, but that wouldn't go over well. I put them on with a sigh… a sigh that was matched by the others present in the room. Theirs were of longing however, while mine was simple put-upon aggravation. Half the people on the ship would gleefully kill someone for underwear like these. Maybe even more than half, if certain rumors were true.
At least they were comfortable.
“Alright, so the real benefit of having actual water showers over just the sonic ones… you can treat your clothes.”
Marion pulled out a bottle of something. Lissa, Carla, and Milla followed suit. They were all small and unmarked, kept in the lockers, and had a liquid inside with a faint watery blue color. Marion popped the top on hers and waved it under my nose… it was pleasant and vaguely spicy; it smelled like flowers. It smelled, in fact, like the perfume all the girls wore. It was in fact, the answer to one of the many mini-mysteries of the ship, and one that no female to date had given up… at least not to any of us in the third generation. I had asked my dad once how and why all the girls smelled the same as mom and he had told me they just did, so I didn't lay odds on him knowing either.
“Wait, so the perfume you all use, the one that drives guys wild, is actually some sort of detergent or chemical treatment for your clothes?”
“Yep! Keeps our whites whiter and brights brighter! Also keeps the threads from fraying as easily and cuts down on general wear. Pretty handy when you're wearing plant or animal fibers, as opposed to good old fashioned chemistry. Darn rules.”
The rules she was speaking of were the rather stringent laws regarding wearing certain types of clothes, which basically boiled down to no latex or rubber derivatives. I wasn't as clear on that part of human history as I probably should be considering how many headaches making clothes directly from modern chemistry would save us, but I do remember that something called a 'catsuit' was involved. Maybe I should look it up later; though I was sure the girls all knew, I did not want to ask. Or be seen caring about it for that matter, so I just nodded along.
“So here is how it works. You step into the shower, then while you clean yourself you work this stuff into your clothes. It's not really fully biological, its a polymer that bonds to your clothes, and bonds to the dirt and sweat and other stuff in your clothes. Then afterwords you run it through the sonic process like normal.”
It figured that Lissa would know about biologicals to be used on clothes… even fake ones.
“Anyway, we forgot to make a bottle for you, but you can use mine after I'm done and then analyze a sample to make your own with. You just can't let the guys know; it's our secret.”
The translation to that was: 'we know you have trust issues so we're going to show you that it isn't poison in the time honored tradition of using it first, then supply you with the means to make your own so you won't have to worry about such a thing in the future.' Thank you, Marion, you lovable mind reader.
She disrobed and went into her chosen stall, using the bottle on her exercise clothes with the door open, in plain sight, before handing it to me. She worked the contents into her clothes under the water, then draped them over the door while soaping up herself. Then she rinsed her clothes off and while rinsing herself. The others watched me watching her for a bit, then followed suit, though they closed the stall doors. Marion had no shame… and nothing to be ashamed about.
Too bad I couldn't take advantage. Too bad she was driving that point home without even trying.
Or maybe she was trying.
No, I could think that of Claire, but not Marion. Marion was just herself; oblivious. I walked into my own stall more to stop comparing my body to theirs more than anything else and applied the contents of the bottle to my new clothes. If they were nanites like I had used, and Marion was setting me up, well, then I'd be set up. I had ways to both detect and counteract that, and I wouldn't be wearing the clothes again until tomorrow anyway; plenty of time to check up on them. Even the trick I pulled was skirting the edge – we could synthesize thread but getting the colors to match was sometimes difficult.
Clothes successfully treated and myself cleaned I stepped out; the four that went into the showers with me were still here, waiting for me.
“Alright, next step. You simply take the hangar in your locker, and hang them up.”
Lissa interrupted.
“Or you can just use one of the blow dryers to dry them; a few good waves at medium or high heat should do it without damaging anything.”
“But it fades the colors!”
Then they began a lively… debate. Yeah, a debate, over air drying versus 'assisted drying'. I just got dressed while they weren't paying attention to me; it took me about half the time it took them, at least until I got to my stupid hair, which was wet again. A few quick strokes and I was ready to leave – at least until I glanced Marion's way and saw her watching me out of the corner of her eye, while still arguing with Lissa.
So I settled in for more strokes, fool that I am. In the end I settled for the air dry method as well; I had the means to prevent the mess and waste Lissa was worried about from happening after all – the plastic covers the clothes came in.
I simply used some tape to fix the plastic to the bottom of the clothes, so it would collect all the moisture. Sure, the moisture would probably all get collected by the environmental systems eventually anyway as the air got filtered, but why wait when you didn't have to?
The girls were less than pleased with my ingenuity of course, standing before my locker critically.
Milla summed it up, even while Lissa was looking pleased:
“Well it'll work and avoid the mess unless gravity cuts out, but it lacks elegance.”
I couldn't let that stand.
“For one, gravity won't cut out, I'm maintaining it. And the simple solutions have an elegant beauty unaffected by appearance.”
I wasn't going to be the engineer known for letting critical systems break, ever. I was going to regret my next question, but I had to ask.
“So, what's the next step? Just waiting for it to dry?”
“Yep. After it dries you simply clean it sonically like normal, using the shower. The treatment will bond with the sweat and dirt while drying and then take it all with it when the sound shakes it off. You can take the clothes to your quarters too, and do it there if you want.”
This was all too much work, and I told them so. Lissa wasted no time disagreeing with me.
“It isn't really. Those new clothes you have will likely need to last you your entire life; an entire life of hard use. Unlike the guys, we really can't replace clothes that fit us so well so easily. Some of my stuff had to be altered to fit me, and the stuff that fits perfectly? That's priceless. Guys can and will just wear any old thing they are given, but you? You're small, hard to fit with our stores, and have sensitive skin. Trust me, the alternative isn't one you want to consider; the clothes we can make? Those chafe something fierce.”
How did she know I had sensitive skin?
“Alright, enough of all that. Time to get out of here and hit the canteen for some drinks before we all fall over from dehydration or something.”
We could just drink water from the sink, it was the same as the water from the tap in the canteen, but then again knowing Lissa probably not.
I had mostly recovered by the time we finally set off, now fully clothed once again and for my part now knowing far more about why Lissa and her crew were late than I ever wanted. Marion sticking by me to make sure shenanigans didn't happen was also appreciated. It was the only reason I could think of for her to stick around; she didn't hate Lissa and company, but she didn't really make too much effort to hang around them.
I wonder what other surprises like this were in store. Well that, and if I could get more of that juice drink stuff; that stuff was still amazing.
Another day, another round of vacuum packed Earth relic food. Another morning of Guido just walking right in and setting it down then waiting for me to get up. He read a book while I showered, dressed, and ate, never appearing to look up. But as soon as I was ready he closed the book; we entered the hall side by side.
There were a few hesitant waves today, a few muttered greetings as I passed; I responded with the best humor I could, which seemed to satisfy them. Everything was back to normal, and nothing was wrong…
Except it wasn't, and it was.
Guido left me at the entrance to engineering, and I checked the work orders. It seemed last night Brun had repaired the leaky tank I'd noticed. I'd have to check that later; for now my job was… engineering console maintenance? That was more busy work; unless a problem had been reported. Those consoles were so solid state they would probably outlive us all.
If crap went very wrong, then those consoles would be a rather unusual testament to humanity's engineering prowess for aliens to decipher, assuming aliens existed somewhere and could find them. There wasn't anything wrong with the consoles; the diagnostics checked out, and the tests I could run proved it beyond any doubt. I had them all finished by the time lunch rolled around; what that really meant was that I had no excuse to squirrel myself away somewhere private for lunch, much as I wanted to.
My customary corner table in the cafeteria was occupied; captain traitor was in it, with Marion. Claire was one table away, and they were talking.
I chose another corner as Marion got up and hustled over. She stopped at the counter and picked up a plate and a glass of juice. On the plate was… something I hadn't seen before. A piece of something that looked like our pressed vegetable patties, and some yellow-orange squiggly things, served wet. The plate was packed with it; I wasn't sure I could eat all of it.
“What the heck is this stuff, Marion? It looks weird.”
She set it down in carefully in front of me.
“Well, we were kinda hoping you could tell us. I had to run a search, and the results were confusing. This is part of the package that showed up yesterday, complete with cooking instructions. This,' she pointed at the patty 'is some kind of meat, and other stuff is called macaroni and cheese. How it lasted this long, I don't know… but you get to tell us how it tastes. So go ahead, test subject.”
She sat and waited, staring intently. I thought I saw a hint of drool; though that wouldn't be surprising… the food we normally ate was pretty bland. We did the best with what we had. I took a bit of the orange stuff first; I doubted it was poisonous since it was from the ship's stores.
It was weird; it had a rich creamy taste that I wasn't sure I liked… but I was pretty sure I didn't hate. I gestured as I cut the meat with my fork; Marion snagged a piece, and her face brightened as she chewed.
“Wow, those Earthers sure knew how to eat!”
The meat was… it made my mouth water, even as it dried up, and that tang… was that salt? If all meat was like this, I could see why my ancestors loved slaughtering animals.
“You have got to try this, Marion. It has salt in it.”
“Salt, really?”
She cut a piece and tried it.
“Oh. Wow; just wow.”
She hadn't volunteered, but I had to ask. After all, maybe we could do some gene mods and grow some of this if we tried hard enough.
“So, what animal is it?”
She was still chewing; I had to poke her before she came back to reality.
“Oh, um… the label said it was 'spam.' the search in the database didn't turn up any animal matching that description. Roger thinks it was probably extinct or something by the time the Magellan left.”
Well, it was true that more than a few animals had gone extinct before humans left Earth, but that still didn't explain why this spam animal didn't come up in a search. After all, that Tasmanian devil thing had shown up when we wanted to know what the animated kids show was about. No need to worry about it now, I supposed.
“How much of this stuff did you get?”
“A tub of the macaroni, with a smaller tub of the powdered sauce. It kind of took me by surprise how much a cup of each makes, so I'll make a little less next time. That said, about 20 servings? And the Spam, ten vacuum sealed bags of about five slices like that one, so 50 servings. The directions, however, said to space them out, or they could be unhealthy.”
Of course, moderation in all things. I had a suspicion.
“So what's for dinner then?”
“Uh uh. I'm not going to ruin Oddball's surprise. Let's just say it's probably not going to be a let-down after this lunch, and leave it at that. I have to admit Mouse, I am all kinds of jealous.”
Sure you are. You too can get a creepy AI to obsess over you and mutilate you for no good reason at all, Marion. It's easy.
“So what's on tap for the mighty engineer today?”
I shrugged.
“Don't know. I'm ahead of the game so far, so probably more vent repair.”
“Ah, the glamorous life so far. Well, you won't have to worry about mine, I did all my vents yesterday.”
I looked at her.
“Hey, don't give me that look. I was bored, alright? Not much to do around here once the cooking is started… or done. Not like it hurts anything to do it myself, as long as I'm careful.”
“Well, I'm fine with it. Just leaves about a thousand to go.”
Marion shook her head.
“A few less. Some of the others might be willing to do the same in between shifts. What can we say? Space is boring.”
Space wasn't that boring, and the vents were supposed to be part of my punishment. So other people chipping in meant what, exactly? A peace offering? They had someplace other than my back to 'bury the hatchet'? I had to admit the last thought seemed nice.
Captain traitor was staring at me.
I finished lunch with Marion glued to my table. She was talking about movies and hobbies and strange historical trivia.
“So, Mouse, want to come over and watch movies? I'm kind of interested in what your new favorites are; last time we did anything like that we were still watching Disney.”
I remembered that day. I had argued on how unlike reality those Disney movies were. Marion had been part of team “Disney was how it was”, and we had shouted each other down for a good hour while Claire kept things from getting violent; our parents had to break it up. Those were good times.
After that I started watching more action oriented movies, and I knew from my various delvings into network usage that Marion had started watching more fluff, but we three hadn't gotten together to watch a movie like that in our quarters since, unless it was a pick for the entire crew to watch. The invites had stopped coming, for some reason. But still, it wasn't as if I had anything to do tonight.
“Sure, guess I can.”
“After shift tonight then?”
“Sure. But for now, I got to go and finish up my shift.”
I finished up my juice and rose to leave, and Marion got enthusiastic – and loud.
“Alright! Say around six then, I'll expect you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw captain traitor flinch. I waved on my way out the door, managing to skip out of Eric's way. He shot me an appraising look, then a leer. I rolled my eyes in response. Seth and Joe were right behind Eric, oddly enough; I thought they hated him. Guess it had just been me.
On my way back I checked the sleepers. The fix Brunhilde had done was a good one and was holding. I was looking it over in more depth when the door opened. I looked up to find captain traitor framed in it.
Oh, Damn it.
“What are you doing, Mouse?”
Was he insinuating what I thought he was?
“Going over a repair job done by the night shift. You know, my job. It looks good, so if you'll excuse me….”
He just stood there, in the way.
“Why didn't you do it yesterday? I know you found it and logged it.”
“To avoid questions like these, actually. Another plan that didn't work. Now, did you have something that needs repair, or are you just in my way to annoy me?”
His gaze sharpened as his face tightened.
“Yes, I do. I just wanted to let you know that if you found such problems in the future, you can just feel free to repair them, no questions asked. Brun said that patch was top notch and probably would have held at least a week.”
Time to twist the knife maybe? No. It would only be speculation on how the unit got messed up, and it could be wrong. Sometimes hoses just rupture, and coolant hoses tend to rupture or split more often than others due to what is getting pumped through them. So no need to mention unfounded accusations about people being less than careful while trying to trap me here before… yet.
“I don't take chances here, you know that.”
He ran a nervous hand through his hair.
“Look, I've got a bit of a problem. My suit is in need of maintenance, but I don't really have the time to look at it. Can you please do it for me?”
I… what? That made no sense, Roger's suit had been checked and cleared about a month ago, by both himself and I. I know for a fact I hadn't missed a thing, and he'd used it since. What was his game?
“What's wrong with it?”
“I think it's got a micro-rip somewhere. The readout keeps saying it's losing pressure.”
Well, our suits were old and many of them ill-fitting. Rips or wear around cuffs and seals were not uncommon. Even fast developing ones. We did have the facilities to make our own suits (my own was of a newer make, because of my size) but usually it was one per customer, for life. Roger's suit was an older model, however….
“Fine, I'll take a look.”
“Great, I'll just log the work order for tomorrow then; Oddball just has you cleaning the vents the next couple days anyway. I'll let you get back to work; got to triple check some possible course corrections. We probably won't use them, after all, it's not like there's much out here to hit, but doesn't hurt to be on the safe side.”
So that was his game. He left while I was pondering the ramifications. By posing a suit check as an actual work order, he was making it public. He was making the fact that he trusted me with his suit, knowing how I felt about him right now, public. If I screwed him over, the crew would know… but that wasn't his aim. He knew I wouldn't, so he wanted to show the crew I wouldn't either.
Which kind of aggravated me; if the crew didn't know by now how badly things could have gone by pissing me off, and how much they owed to my own restraint, then what was this move going to show? If it worked any better than my own actions since, I was going to be beyond pissed.
I stepped out of the sleeper's chamber and was immediately set upon.
“There you are! Come on, it's time! We have to get this done before lunch hour ends!”
Lissa grabbed me by the arm and started dragging me along. It took actual effort to shake her off; was she always this strong?
“What do you want, Lissa? I've got to get back to work!”
She stopped and turned.
“No, what you have to do is finish taking care of your clothes. Your exercise clothes are sitting in a locker, crying for attention! 'Help us, help us' they are saying… and you're not listening!”
Urk, I'd forgotten all about the clothes treatment thing.
“Alright, I'm coming, no need to be grabby.”
I checked my pad; we still had twenty minutes, so plenty of time. Lissa wasn't trying to run or anything, and she did this more than I, so it was probably enough. Carla and Milla met us at the gym entrance, and walked with us, breaking the silence with a lively debate over the various strengths and weaknesses of their current modified lettuce over past versions. Apparently lettuce in the past wasn't as big as what we had now, and didn't have as much nutritional value going for it.
They were also discussing ways to prepare said lettuce so it didn't taste awful. I didn't think there was any way to manage that miracle, but I didn't tell them that. Volunteering that little tidbit without being asked (or at all) might see me getting hurt.
Of course, Oddball's recent attempts to bribe me might have influenced my sense of taste, but I wasn't about to admit that under torture.
Claire was just leaving the locker room as we entered; she gave me one of her typical pointed glares. I glared back as the door chimed our entry, and she said nothing.
My locker was as I left it, the moisture from my clothes collected. The clothes themselves did seem more clean than simply using the sonic method, more vibrant. It made me wonder how effective sonic showers had been on myself, all this time; had I been running around dirty most of the time, and just not known it?
At any rate, the treatment now was just taking a typical everyday sonic brush, and rubbing it across the clothes in order to remove any crap bonded to them; anyone could do it, and only a few passes later the clothes were spotless. My plastic had some accumulated junk that I really didn't want to inspect in detail. Carla took it with a nod towards their own small piles of… stuff and mixed it in.
“All fertilizer now.”
Lissa came up and made a show of inspecting my exercise outfit.
“Looks good; not a spot missed that I can see. Okay, we're done. See you in a few, Mouse.”
And they walked out just like that, still talking vegetables (this time it was radishes) while I hung my stuff up and flushed the excess water down the sinks. Folding up the plastic wrappers, I resolved to make a better collector for the moisture; I didn't want to carry clothes around all the time, treating them. There were plenty of girls that did, if memory served, but I didn't want to be one of them.
There actually was a bulb burned out on one of the indicator lights in monitor console 21. I changed it and recycled the bulb.
…..
Well, she hadn't ripped his head off or stuck him with a knife, for all that she looked like she was going to. Oddly enough, it was the implication that Mouse didn't know what she was doing with the patch that set her off. I didn't see why that would affect her more than questioning her on why she didn't just fix it, but I had a way to make her and the crew both understand that she was trustworthy.
If she was going to break, it would have been long before now. It was pretty humbling, in a way; Mouse would have made a much better captain than I did. I know I'd have broken long before this, and all Mouse did, really, was make her displeasure felt.
It said something about her, and the mission in general, that Mouse could do more damage to morale with pranks than anyone else probably could with actual sabotage. He still had to meet with Oddball again over the decision that sparked all this. It was done, it could be undone.
Claire walked past with a measured stride, crying silently past a stoic mask; if I hadn't noticed the tears, I would never have guessed.
“Claire, what's wrong?”
I wanted to ask if it was about Mouse, but that would be stupid. These days, it was always about Mouse, in some way or another. She read my mind anyway.
“It's nothing. Probably not what you think at all. My fault really; I just made a mistake, and I'm paying for it.”
She slipped my grip, shoved me away, and walked on; rubbing at her eyes. I got the message. Yet another problem I couldn't fix. Unless that is, Oddball suddenly decided to be reasonable. As if that could even happen.
The bridge was far from the laid back place I was used to.
Will Spets (just Billie now, please), who I felt guilty about thinking of as 'the well adjusted one' but did anyway, was triple checking something at her station. Ronald Simmon was right behind her, despite not having a reason to be on the bridge, normally. I certainly hadn't called him up here. Hitomi was at her station, but not paying any attention to it; not that I blamed her; communications had been a dead station, with nothing going on, since before generation one had been in cryo. It was manned more out of habit and regulation, now.
But if something was going on, they could have called me.
“What's up?”
Billie looked up.
“Something odd, Captain. There is some form of hole in the regular background emissions we normally get, day to day. It's almost directly ahead of us, and it's weird.”
I linked my pad up to the astrogation station and looked.
“You didn't think something unusual was worth calling me for?”
Ron and Billie shared a look. She answered, nervously.
“I just discovered it five minutes ago. And we did call you, we just didn't flag it priority. Because, best we can tell, there isn't any priority; whatever it is, it's almost a full day away.”
I checked my pad. They had, in fact, placed a call. It had been while I was watching Mouse, and I hadn't even realized. That also meant it was actually closer to eight minutes ago, but bringing that up would just be pointless.
“Alright, so what is it?”
Billie answered first.
“We think it's a rogue planet. Some kind of large planetary style body thrown from a nearby system.”
Ron butted in with a look.
“To be more precise, we think it's a gas giant since it seems to be eating some of our sensor emissions. And we aren't sure yet, but it may be completely frozen.”
If it was, then it might have water. It probably already had hydrogen and helium, both very useful gasses. Probably a nice radioactive isotope or two, which would be even better; there were all kinds of uses for those… but wait.”
“You said planet big, right?”
They nodded.
“Exactly how big?”
They looked at each other nervously; they didn't have the answer.
“We aren't sure; the object is almost completely dark; if not for some of our more advanced sensors on the ship we never would have spotted it in time; you see, the object is headed pretty much directly for us. It will either hit us or pass by so close it'll throw us off course and damage us.”
So this wasn't a mining opportunity, like the asteroid; we needed a course correction. That was Billie's job.
“Start calculating the burn to avoid it. The sooner we start, the less we'll have to burn. Ron you can try to take all the readings you want, but Billie your job is making sure we don't smack into it. If you have to, bring people in.”
A bit insulting, with a slight implication that I didn't trust her, but she didn't take offense.
“Will do, Captain.”
She turned back to her console and I was able to catch a glimpse; she had clearly already been laying the groundwork, and hadn't said a word; entirely too easygoing. I wondered if there were more out there; had the rogue celestial body pulled anything else out of orbit with it? Did it have any hangers-on? Sure there was one headed straight for us, but what about those headed at an angle?
If there was one headed at us at an oblique, or ahead of us and moving in a direction where we'd intercept… well, we'd be dead, mission failed. The only option I saw was a complete burn to slow down. Otherwise, at the speeds we were going our computers, even Oddball, wouldn't have the microseconds necessary to complete a full image of obstructions; and worse, some objects, like certain types of rogue planets, would actually absorb some of our ways to detect in front of us, like radar.
A good reason to talk to Mouse; she'd be thrilled, of course.
I'd better see if I could come up with options on my own, first. Pulling up the Magellan's full current schematic caused a headache, instantly; all the last minute modifications and notations that should have been collated into one coherent whole… weren't. Past event logs weren't much better, I knew from experience. Generation 1's were fine, all clipped proper speech and time lines, but Generation 2's? A complete mess, even the incident that screwed us, later. Nothing in either generations event files like this, so no precedent to go by.
To order the slow, or take the chance? So far it was only my speculation that had more objects out there. Oddball hadn't even chimed in, which was… well, a little odd. This far out, the only object with any significant gravity at all had to be that rogue planet. It can't be traveling that fast, probably less than 32,000 kph, which was our speed rounded down...less than 20 minutes, to be conservative. That wasn't even enough time to come to a full stop unless we did an emergency one. No, best not to risk it.
“Full reverse, all engines, three-minute burn. You have that long to calculate a course to avoid the gravity well of that object, or as much of it as you are able. Hitomi, patch your console into astrogation and start running sweeps; full sweeps, with every scanner and means of detection we have.”
Now it was time to bite the bullet.
“Bridge to engineering.”
There was a rogue planet out there, and it was going to come close enough to pull us. Captain Traitor had ordered a full stop to be safe, which would set us back months. He was probably right, though; I re-calibrated our sensors. Given to us by the aliens who had helped us leave the nest, they measured the movement of both dark matter and energy in the direction they were pointed; any movement in either usually meant an object or energy that was dangerous to humans.
Might have been dangerous to the aliens too; even with pictures and what other data Gen 1 had collected, I couldn't be certain of that. They were nothing like old Earth biology at all or even our imaginings of alien biology.
Done with the re-positioning and re-calibration (We normally kept the sensors reined in somewhat to discourage false positives) I flipped the switch.
The answer came back immediately: we were absolutely surrounded by foreign objects, all flying every which way and bouncing off each other. Clearly, the rogue planet's gravity well was already working its magic.
We had no less than sixteen objects heading our way, either directly to us or close enough to be considered a danger. The readings were already being shown on the bridge, but I still had to ask.
“You getting this, bridge?”
The response from Captain Traitor was immediate. “Yeah, we see it. Hang onto something.”
I grabbed onto a convenient handhold and waited. We had our own gravity, after all, and that sometimes caused things not properly bolted down to fly when we decelerated, though I had been told it wasn't quite the same as what one got from a planet, since it was our own gravity.
The sudden deceleration came, much worse than the gradual deceleration I'd been experiencing before. I rode it out and checked our shields. They weren't really shields that so much of the fiction of our home planet painted; invisible bands of force that could stop objects or weapons cold, but there was that aspect. They were ablative panels that moved, angling objects away from more sensitive areas of the hull. They were also backed by massive electro-magnets, capable of generating enough force to slow anything that had ferrous metal content down.
It wasn't perfect, but it worked. Well, aside from having to replace any panels; Cargie had hated replacing them. Probably because it required him to stuff himself in his EVA suit, and Cargie had been a big guy. I often wondered how he'd managed that when food was so carefully controlled and come to the conclusion that like the alcohol, he'd made his own... but he never had told me where that was.
Sometimes it worried me that there might be strange plant life rotting away in a hold somewhere.
But no, I needed to focus. The first panel was hit, but did it's job with a minimum of deformity. Oddball, or at least one of his subsystems, was controlling the angle of the panels, but I was watching him.
I didn't really trust Oddball much anymore. I wonder why?
Everything worked just fine. Two of the objects angled off poorly and cause some minor structural damage. Nothing to worry about, at least not yet; I made a note of where it was just in case the alarm indicators failed or turned off, and reported in. They would know of the shield deployment (they could have done it themselves of course, and Oddball could have done it on his own) and be watching from their own monitors.
“Bridge, engineering here. Some minor hits, nothing too terrible. But we should probably warm up the impact cannons, in case.”
The impact cannons were useful, slug throwers that used the principle of magnetism to throw small rocks or metal balls into large foreign objects to break them up and slow their momentum. Just one could fire seventeen slugs a second, and we had six of them on tracks set between the hulls. They could fire out but were protected normally, but deploying them was a minor risk.
I could always build one from scratch if I wanted to, so losing one wasn't that big a risk. It was certainly better than the alternative.
No human could properly plot a firing solution of course, but if Oddball was handling the shields, chances were he would handle the weapons just fine. If he didn't there was an old backup, built entirely on Earth, for the impact cannons. Not too many knew of it's existence, and it wasn't hooked into the network, but it wouldn't take more than a minute to correct both problems.
The cannons came online and started doing their thing.
…...
I had Billie ready to go, but she needed to know which way to burn. The screens showed that most of the debris was moving in one direction; orbiting. How had we gotten into the center of this without noticing?
“Three and relative low, Billie. Let the computer catch up and plot the course.”
When there were hundreds of objects of varying sizes, sometimes the computer plotting them all in order to make a course had problems. Oddball could do it But I liked a second opinion and a human hand involved; especially now. But away and in the same direction as most of the objects was good enough for now.
“Mouse.”
Her voice was lightened up to something beautiful, her tone less so. “Yes Captain Traitor?”
“Can you tell me the status of the cannon feeds?”
Sometimes the ammunition used in the cannons wasn't perfectly spherical; It hadn't really been machined that way in generations. So the ammunition feeds could clog and the cannons jam.
“All cannons report fully operational. Cannons two and five report low ammunition, but they should be fine for now. The shields are fine, though shield fifty-two is crumpled a bit from a strike, and the impact is affecting Oddball's ability to angle. So, if you have to you should roll us to avoid a hit there; that's at our chem lab wing.”
Not the place you want something hitting. The best place would be the primary habitat wing; not only was it better protected but all of us who normally used it were off doing our jobs. Let's see, a roll 'up' would put an impact at the third secondary water tank, used for experiments and hydroponics, and a roll 'down' would put a hit at maneuvering thruster number thirteen and the fuel feed. Relative up it was; we could stand to lose some partially contaminated water if we had to. Especially since most of it would freeze in the worst case scenario and we could recover it later.
“Don't suppose we have any spare ammunition for them, Mouse?”
“We don't keep that much on hand, but I'll see what I can do.” And she was gone, to work her magic. I knew we didn't keep much ammunition on hand for the cannon, it was a waste of weight and resources, but I'm sure the engineers had some special doomsday trick if the situation called for it; Cargie had for everything else, after all, and Mouse was better than he was.
The big hits stopped as Billie brought us on our new course, and the little hits didn't matter nearly as much; the shields could soak those all day, at least with most of the inertia they had spent.
The rogue planet was still coming, thanks to the course change we were now certain to miss it. The other objects though, those were a problem.
“Engineering to bridge.”
Whatever she wanted must be good to contact me. “Got a crazy plan. We are going to lose quite a bit of velocity from passing this close; what say we make it work for us, and gain some instead?”
Yes passing this close to a large planet's gravity well would slow us down. Was Mouse suggesting what I thought she was?
“I'm listening.”
She cut right back. “Don't play dumb;You know I'm talking about a slingshot. We go around a good seven or eight times, use the gravity well for us, and we can actually gain speed and make our destination galaxy much faster.”
She had to be weighing the risks. Staying the range of the gravity well would leave us open to all the debris we were trying to avoid. “How much faster.”
“Anywhere from six to ten years faster.”
We could reach the galaxy and it's planets in our lifetime. Not a maybe, a definite. Plus, reducing the time meant reducing the time spent in a dangerous transit. Less time spent under Oddball's watch.
However, the increased speed would affect our sensor range. That would be a huge risk.
Mouse knew what I was thinking. “Don't worry, I can alleviate the sensor risk. Besides, the planet already swept everything in our path up, probably.”
Gravity could act as a broom, sometimes. There should be a corridor more empty than normal back that way.
“See to the ammunition. We will need more. After that, we can discuss it.”
“Sure thing.” The answer was upbeat. Damn it, she knew what his answer was already.
“Roger? Sir?” Billie asked; she hadn't picked up on it.
“Just focus on evasive maneuvers for now, Billie.”
I went into the command conference room then called Siegfried. He wasn't long in responding.
“What's up, Captain? I hear we have a situation?”
No time, no time... “We have an emergency situation, needing a command decision. I'd like your input.”
It took longer than I wanted to explain the choices, and Siegfried was quiet for some time.
“I would say we just stay on course as much as we can, and ride it out. It may cost us years down the line, but it isn't worth the risk; the mission is too important. But in light of recent events? I think it might be time to take a stupid risk or two.”
His thoughts verbalized gelled my own.
“Right. It might come down to just riding everything out, but I think we can find an unoccupied lane. Alright, Sieg what do you say about rotating shifts?” I didn't want both of us down at the same time, and Sieg was the more trusted of the two of us right now, so putting him on the night shift (which didn't deal with me as much anyway) was a good idea. I could also trust Sieg to keep me in the loop if necessary.
“I say it's an idea. I guess I'll go try and sleep.”
“Good luck.” Knowing him, he'd be asleep in five minutes; a more laid back guy I just didn't know.
Well, I had a consensus, and that was good enough for a decision. I stepped out of the conference room and only glanced longingly at the liquor cabinet. I didn't need the habit.
“Billie, calculate a course for a slingshot maneuver.”
“Already done, Roger. Mouse calculated one, and I've double-checked it. Oddball is currently checking it for any errors.”
Oddball was doing something? Probably an uncharitable thought, considering if we got pulverized it died along with us and failed his mission. That couldn't be something it wanted, could it?
Billie's console chirped. “It's done, course complete.” She announced.
“Don't waste time, just use it.” I didn't need a play by play, she already knew what the plan was and what the stakes were.
I could feel motion as the Billie plotted the course, but I wasn't good enough to tell from where. There was something else, though, and I couldn't pin it down. I sat down but didn't belt in, watching the ship status.
Which got boring after awhile. Luckily, Mouse broke the monotony.
“Captain Traitor.” sigh.
“Go ahead, Mouse.”
“Got all the ammunition we could need. Made some tough ice our of some waste liquids, molded to fit. With the life support around the cannon turned off, they won't melt before we need them, and they will slow anything shot down. It'll require more bullets, but it won't fragment objects as much as our current stuff does.”
That was... remarkably good thinking. “Good work.”
“Whatever. Engineering out.”
…...
I watched the cannon work. Taking the worst waste slush we had, mixing it altogether, throwing it in some old ball bearing molds and then loading it up was a stroke of genius if I did say so myself. Sure, it took several shots rather than simply one or two per object, but the ice vaporized much easier, and instead of shattering what it hit, it merely nudged it out of the way or dumped it's velocity so the impact was feather soft. Well, at least most of the time.
The problem was now I'd have to decontaminate my suit; waste liquids were radioactive. The dose was mild, but it was enough that I didn't want to put it off too long, for all that I needed to right now.
At least we had enough ammunition now – three thousand rounds per cannon - provided Billie learned how to dodge a rock. It was like she was trying to hit every single one or something; cannon ten had already switched to the new stuff exclusively, and cannon eight and four were well on their way.
I tweaked the fuel flow mix going into the maneuvering thrusters. Throwing off burn calculations to the main engines was something I wouldn't do, but a little bit of extra dodging capability couldn't hurt. It would just mean I'd have to overhaul them later; but that just gave me something to do, assuming we survived.
Billie adjusted quickly, and we started using less ammunition; good.
I scanned myself for radiation, then set up one of my cots in the corner of the office. Setting my pad to alert me in case of several different kinds of emergencies, I laid down. I wasn't about to leave engineering during all this, but I couldn't just stare at a screen for hours. With my normal jobs done, the sleepers checked, I'd get bored pretty fast. So games or sleep it was.
…...
Brun woke me up. Her pad chimed a harsh counterpoint to the more normal engine noises; if I'd been less swift on the uptake I'd have probably broken my own trying to shut it off.
Instead I focused right in, finding her watching the main engineering console. “Sorry; I forgot to turn the alarm down.”
I stretched; sometimes I curled up on the cots, and that made me a little stiff. “No problem, Guessing it's time to be up anyway. You checked the sleepers yet?”
She shook her head no; it was barely two hours into her shift. I'd slept through Gym, and no one had tried to wake me? That seemed a little suspicious.
“Do you want to?” I'd have offered to do it myself, even preferred it that way, but I wasn't entirely trusted right now, so letting Brun do it would have to do.
She nodded. “Sure, get's a load off my mind.”
She grabbed her tools and left while I checked my pad. Hm, Gym was declared voluntary today, with people showing up or not based on whim, probably. There was a note from Milla, stating the botany team was locking down all the hydroponics for rough travel, and food production was temporarily halted for the next few days.
Chemistry, the bio-sciences, the textile Mill Claire had control of, and most of the other labs had followed suit. The clinic was still open, at least. I stumbled getting up; there was a drag, a slight but noticeable drag coming from my left side – starboard side. We had to be close to or orbiting something.
According to the console, something had buckled shield number four and it would no longer respond to commands. The camera directed at it showed the entire hydraulic strut bent and crumpled at one end. It was going to be a real pain in the butt to replace, provided I could even machine one. Until I did that shield would just stick out at that angle.
More worrying was the fact that I'd slept through whatever hit us; that couldn't have been a soft impact. Maybe the strut failure had absorbed more than the normal impact? No, that didn't make sense at all, and I wasn't a light sleeper.
Maybe I'd just been more tired than normal?
“Engineering to the bridge.”
Siegfried answered... and I released a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. “Bridge, go ahead Mouse.”
“I'm watching the monitors now. Any idea what crumpled number four?”
“A pretty big asteroid; it bounced instead of deflecting off. Going to be quite the eyesore until we get it repaired.” Sieg was fishing for information, there. Why he didn't just ask whether I could fix it, I didn't know. It should be obvious it just needed a few new struts on it.
“Yeah, should be, but the actual fix won't take long. Going to have people screaming about the amount of metals used, however. Well, at least until we melt the old ones.”
I checked the ammunition feeds. They seemed more full than when I laid down, but I'd already used all the waste liquids.
“What did you refill the cannon ammunition feeds with?”
“Seth and Joe ground down some parts of that asteroid we hauled in some weeks ago. That and used some of the waste from it.”
Well, that was good thinking. It's what I would have done if I'd been awake.
“Hit frequency still high?”
I could hear Sieg's dismissal. “Nah; we're closer to the planet. Orbiting it tight, turn number four and counting.”
Ah, as we start going back across the debris field again it'll pick back up.
“Who's at the helm?” It couldn't still be Billie.
“Ronald.”
Well, it could have been worse. Guido would have probably plowed us into the planet by now.
“Need help anywhere? When Brun gets back I plan on checking the hull and systems around number four, but other than that I'm free.”
No reason not to run a nice physical inspection to make sure nothing's wrong; the impact damage, force, or some of either, could have easily overwhelmed the safety systems and shaken something loose or caused some metal fatigue. Of course, if that was likely, Brun would probably already be there repairing it and I'd already be awake.
Maybe Brun was still in the habit of trusting the cameras and sensors. I'd have to break her of that, later.
She came back an hour later and promptly started staring over my shoulder at the displays.
“Sleepers fine?”
She nodded, tapping the number three's maneuvering thruster fuel gauge; the low fuel red light turned itself off, and I added it to the list of minor fixes to be completed sometime later. “The emergency impact measures are employed, and everything is triple green.”
“Had a chance to run a visual over the damage around four yet?”
“Had Eric and Opal looking over it, but they had some other stuff to do. Nothing major broken though, or we'd know already. Why, are you volunteering to have a look?”
“Well, I'll end up repairing it anyway; might as well have a look – that is, unless you have something else you think I should be doing?”
She finally looked up, shot me a hard look, and shrugged. “I don't care. You're the boss; if you just start in like you normally do, however, you could log it first so I know what's going on.”
“Will do.” I grabbed my own tools, just in case, and started off. Once out of sight I checked it; the lock and other anti-tampering measures I'd started using were still in place. Never could be too careful – at least if you were me.
After all, next time I could wake up as something else entirely. All it would take is Oddball holding the vote, and my loving crew would once again vote nearly unanimously. Well, maybe that was a little uncharitable, but I still wasn't taking chances.
The Hull around shield number four was fine, the metal wasn't stressed or cracked, and the systems I could get to looked to be just fine. I wasn't going to go into the service tunnels, though, I had a better idea. I'd suit up and EVA in the space between hulls and get a better look at the other side; that would give me a much better idea of whatever I was dealing with before something mission critical had a chance to explode.
“Excuse me, Chief engineer Mouse.”
I turned away from the airlock my suit was in to find one of Oddball's security bots (Number 37, I noted; that might come in handy later.) staring me down. At least it didn't have it's weapons out.
“What do you want, Oddball?”
“I'd prefer if you did not EVA. Your suit is radioactive, and therefore dangerous to attempt extra-vehicular activity in.”
What? “Not performing the check is more dangerous; you have to know that.”
“Of course; to that end, I would propose a compromise.”
Here it comes... “What compromise?”
“I would like to propose you take control of one of my drones to use for the purpose. The unit would be slaved to your pad for the duration of the inspection and it should allow you to perform such an inspection without placing yourself in danger.”
Well, creepy factor aside, that actually didn't sound like a bad thing. IF I could trust Oddball. IF I could trust what I was seeing. This was the first time I'd heard of Oddball actually sticking his neck out at all, for anyone of the crew like this. He had made suggestions before but never offered direct help. Then again, he was in danger too, if the ship got cracked in half he was just as dead as the rest of us.
I didn't trust it.
“I'll have to have assurance that the drone is transmitting unfiltered information directly to me. I've no doubt that since you can control the feeds, you can alter them. I want that control for myself, and I'll share the information with you afterward.”
Oddball thought for a second. “That is acceptable. I assume you will require movement control as well; I will instruct you on how to run a bypass of my control scheme if you promise not to interfere with the drones emergency kill switch.”
So he didn't want to just hand me a drone of my own, indefinitely. That was fair. “I agree, and I promise. So where is this drone you're talking about?”
“It is standing in front of you.”
The security bot was a drone to him? These things were armed and all but unbeatable, at least by anything on this ship. Oddball really was trusting me. Engineering didn't even handle the maintenance on these things, and the schematics were not in our database; this would be my first look at the insides of one. It might be any humans first look at the insides of one since they were made.
“Alright, tell me what to do.”
My pad lit up with schematics and step by step instructions. The Oddball started talking on top of that; I rolled my eyes and tried my best not to throw the thing as he started with: “First remove panel C-3....”
The security drone was re-purposed, and working beautifully. I walked it around, the magnetic clamps on. Already I'd spotted a few potential problems that the cameras and other sensors couldn't see, mainly because a few of them were out. Nothing immediately dangerous, though I wasn't sure how I could possibly begin bending that support strut back. It annoyed me that one of the bones of the ship was bent out of true, even if it was just a little. Maybe I could....
The drone chirped, and Oddball's voice came through it. Why hadn't I disabled that while I was at it, with the drone at my mercy? “Visual survey complete. Initial analysis concludes the damage thus far is minor and does not endanger the mission. Further impacts will require further evaluation.”
Well, no kidding. I sipped my juice; I was conducting this inspection from the cafeteria; it was nice and quiet, with an audience of one. Claire was all but biting her nails as she looked on over my shoulder, her domain already secured against catastrophic impacts and power failure. A fire extinguisher was on the table next to her, the ring teased half out. I was waiting for it to pop out and spray our foam mix all over her; the stuff was annoying to clean up.
“Will you relax, Claire? We aren't even getting hit by anything anymore.” That wasn't quite true, but we weren't getting hit by anything big.
“They say it's always the one you don't see, Mouse.”
That was true. Our parents had drilled that bit of wisdom into us from the crib on.
“True, but we have probes sent out to increase our sensor range, there is no reason to believe we won't see them in time.”
“Oh? The Captain okay-ed the expense?” The drones were partially of alien make and were expensive to produce. We could do it, but usually Oddball made them, and they were supposed to be used for planet surveys.
However, even if we couldn't recover them (a probe fired off while we were going at speeds was a probe we couldn't catch up with) they wouldn't do us any good sitting in the bay if something our size slammed into us. We normally carried six, and I'd fired five.
“No. I did, and Oddball concurred.” I hadn't even needed to convince Oddball, which was more than a little worrying.
So far the expense hadn't been worth it. The increase in range was nice, but it hadn't picked up anything we hadn't already found. That is, the space was empty of anything big enough to really hurt us so far, which was more than a little troubling; it meant that the debris field here was constantly impacting itself, the various space objects grinding each other down by hitting each other.
Our shields were getting ground down the same way, but right now it was a slow process.
Well, speak of the devil, and Captain traitor appears. He walked on in, bold as ever, and wasted no time seating himself at my table. “Mouse. Everything alright with shield number four?”
I slid my pad his way; he could find the playback button himself. “See for yourself. Looks alright to me.”
He didn't take the bait.
“I thought you were going to run an EVA to check?”
Oh, so that's what his problem was. He was beating around the bush for it, but wondering why I hadn't actually logged any time outside when I logged the order to go; they were still tracking me. So he thinks I didn't do it, or half-assed it, which is more than a little infuriating.
“I did, remotely. Oddball and I re-purposed one of his drones. That's the footage on my pad; going over it reveals nothing immediate, and Oddball agrees. For as bad as it looks, the Magellan is still spaceworthy, and the shield will hold against anything that won't crack the ship in half.”
Captain Traitor nodded, slowly. I used to be able to read him better; what was he thinking? “Alright. And this notification about our probes Oddball sent me?”
“We used them to extend sensor range around us, to give us more time to evade the larger space debris. All of them are online and still sending telemetry; we can recover one of them at the very least. I set it to tow behind us, so unless it gets trashed I can just reel it in.”
“Why didn't you consult me on this decision?” I couldn't read him, but I knew that wasn't what he wanted to ask.
“You were asleep and I already had a consensus.” Oddball and I counted as one, and for all that I hated Oddball at the moment, he was on board with not dying.
Seig had also backed me once he knew Oddball was on board, but I wasn't going to tell him that; he could look it up himself if he was so interested. Heck, I wasn't even supposed to be on shift right now. I was the last person to question anyone else's sleeping habits, but being a captain wasn't like being an engineer; having more than one on shift was actually helpful.
I took my pad back since he didn't want to double-check, and watched the drone cycled the airlock and came back inside the ship, none the worse for wear. I'd had complete control, but apparently, the thing was still Oddball's. I tested with the arm, and found I could still move it. Oddball didn't counter my commands to have the drone smack itself in the face.
My pad chimed with a message the same time Captain Traitor's did. Mine was from Oddball... and it was requesting a meeting as soon as possible. As soon as possible?!? Oddball never requested meetings as soon as possible; he always set a time and kept to a schedule. Captain Traitor looked up from his pad; I could just make out that he had gotten the same message.
Whatever it was, it had to be important.
“Got to go, Claire.” I stood up and left, not waiting for Captain Traitor to stammer out his own excuses.
He followed me into the hall, however, and caught up quickly. We walked in silence; I didn't have anything to say to him, and he didn't want to say what he should to me.
Oddball was just as I'd last seen him – and yet not. He came out of his wall looking almost... pensive? How did he even manage to look pensive or hesitant at all?
He came out of his wall and gestured to us. “Chief engineer Mouse, Captain Smitt, please come in.”
He waited for the automatic door to close behind Captain Traitor before animating himself again. “I have asked you to come to discuss the rift in trust among the crew.”
I shared a look with Roger; did we really have time for this?
Oddball continued. “I have pondered and calculated, and I believe I have a solution which will be mutually beneficial for all parties concerned.”
Well time or not, I was all ears. “And what solution would that be?”
Oddball paused, stopping dead again for about half a second before turning his face my way. “First, a clarification. You do not wish to be female, correct? Being female does not make you happy?”
He really didn't understand this? “No, being female does not make me happy! Why would you ever think it would?”
Truth told it was more that I had been chosen against my will than anything else; I wasn't a woman hater.
Oddball paused again, then nodded. “However, the crew requires a certain number of females in order to procreate effectively, as well as to ensure a proper family dynamic required for best human interaction. This was agreed to by human governmental forces in power during the inception of our mission as well as past crews. If we counter my programming in such a way, any future colony made by this ship will suffer. I cannot counter my programming, and yet there has been talk among the crew of taking me offline due to the decision made in your case. This is an undesirable outcome for us all.”
Oddball knew. He had heard me plotting rebellion. No, he had heard us; Roger had been discussing turning off Oddball with me before. But Oddball couldn't just ice us or space us; he needed us.
Well, unless he did then converted some other unlucky members of the crew to make up the numbers. I wouldn't put it past him to try, not anymore. “How would such a future colony suffer if I was a guy?”
Oddball's response was immediate, no pause this time. “If both yourself and Roger are male, genetic variation will be less, increasing the incidence of diseases and unfavorable genetic mutation. If you are male, our population size requirement for colonization will not be met.”
Roger got involved, asking a question he really should know the answer to. “Can't some other girl just have more kids to make up the numbers?”
“It's about speciation, Roger. Oddball is saying that our genetic variance will suffer already with a small population size, and we can't take another hit; so we need more girls, more X chromosome carriers, to lower or offset the risk of genetic diseases. If we don't, then ten generations down the line our family trees won't fork enough, and our entire population will be at risk of something that could wipe us out.”
It was really no different than the Botany classes we all took as kids stated; our crops worked better mixed than bred to be pure; at least on a planet. We had two different kinds of seeds for that reason, tagged 'planet use' and 'ship use'.
It was rather illuminating, how Oddball saw us, the crew, as no different than plants.
But that wasn't quite right, even so. We had the genetic profiles of every creature that had survived on Earth until our departure, not to mention our own stock of frozen animals. The intent was to unfreeze them and then clone babies for the needed genetic variance, assuming an ecosystem is needed on whatever planet we find. So if humankind was no different than any other animal, why wouldn't that work for us? I mean, we could take care of cloned babies far easier than some lion or something, and we wouldn't even have to be drugged in order to make it happen.
I was always told the expense for cloning without planetary support was prohibitive, but it beat not have suitability as a species. Besides, it was mostly chemical now, and couldn't really be that bad.
“Why not just use cloning?”
Oddball paused, stopping dead for almost a full two seconds before reviving himself. His answer was mystifying. “I do not know. The answer on record was that a clone might be improperly socialized, and the mission compromised as a result.”
However, he did not believe that. It was obvious, his disbelief and worry. Just as obvious was that his hands were tied; as a machine, he had to do as programmed, and follow his mandate. He was backed into a corner.
I could almost pity him. “Well, I'd say this decision compromised the mission too.”
Oddball rolled his shoulders, left first and then right – was that supposed to be a shrug? “It has. To that end, I would like to propose a compromise.”
“I'm listening.” Just how by all the stars could you compromise this?
Oddball made a show of pacing. “You are no doubt aware of the process used to prepare you for your role among the crew. The process is reversible. However....”
“Wait, you can reverse this?!?” How would you even do that? You'd need certain... parts. Oddball was a machine, though, keeping things in jars and on ice wouldn't be too big a stretch for him, if it was a stretch at all.
Oddball paused at my outburst, nodded, and continued. “I cannot simply reverse it now, however, such an act is contrary to the mission and my programming. What I require is two successful conceptions, two children on your part before I can reverse the procedure as you request.”
….Oddball wanted me to have kids. Oddball wanted me to do THAT. With a guy. And have kids. Only one thing to say to that. “You're out of your mind.”
Oddball ticked through a mechanical sigh. “I cannot give specifics due to confidentiality, but you would not be the first member of the crew to view conceiving with a member of the opposite sex to be distasteful; those crew members did their duty.”
Oddball then stared directly at me and added. “Will you?”
Insufferable bastard. “But I wasn't a girl until you got your metal claws into me. That's a pretty big difference between being born gay in my opinion.”
Oddball whisked himself into the air, giving another shrug, this one a bit more even. “Noted. However the fact remains you are female now, and this solution is the only solution I have been able to calculate that gives all parties involved what they require.”
I didn't even have to think about it. “Your solution sucks.”
Oddball nodded. Nodded! “I know. But tell me, chief engineer Mouse – in another instance such as we find ourselves in now, would you rather have my assistance or be without it? I have calculated fuel expenditures, shield angles, and potential threat avenues as well as the orbit and distance of all known debris around the planet we are currently passing. I know you can do the same, but can you do it in seconds, while seeing to other matters? Answer me truthfully, please.”
Damn him, no I couldn't and he knew it. So this was his game now? To have me admit he was indispensable? He continued.
“I admit in my investigations into your species that one of the primary things I have found is your tendency to risk, but is the risk of turning me off worth the failure of the mission? This crew may be all of humanity left in the universe, in a universe so sparsely filled with intelligent life My own creators have not found another like your species.
I admit your discomfort and my part in it. I apologize for it. But how much is your comfort worth? Is it worth the loss of all you hold dear?”
That I had an answer for. “If what makes humans actually human is lost, then yes, it might be worth the risk. And gender is part of what makes humans who and what they are.”
I was beginning to suspect that the aliens humanity had met, just before the end of Earth, hadn't had genders at all.
Oddball sighed again. “I am.. prepared to negotiate further actions on my part. I am prepared to agree that if at all possible, I will seek and act on advice or options from the bridge crew on all future actions which might cause divisiveness or a lack of unity among the crew. This is contingent upon your agreement of my earlier compromise, of course.”
So... we'd have a say on what Oddball did in the future before he did it? Not only that, but future bridge crews would too! I looked at Roger, who'd been silent so far. His eyes were as wide as mine had to be. I didn't have to think twice... but I was going to.
“I'd like to think on it, and give my answer when the current crisis is resolved.”
Oddball paused a moment before backing up through the air, nodding along the way. “That is acceptable. Please, have a good evening.”
And back into his cubby he went, powering down. The door opened, and a shell-shocked Roger went through. I guess we were done for now; I followed.
“So, um... you weirded out by that too?” He asked.
“Officially weirded out, yes. Anything new from our friendly neighborhood planet?” When in doubt, substitute problems.
Roger checked his pad. Mine hadn't chirped during the meeting. If I had gotten a message, it would have interrupted anything, even Oddball. “Nothing. I'd feel... happier knowing you were back in engineering though.”
“Sure, no problem.”
We split up, roger headed up, and I headed down. My thoughts kept coming back to one thing; had Oddball ever apologized or explained anything? In all the records and conversation transcripts I'd seen, the answer was no. Not even once. Other people had figured out Oddball's reasoning later, or made excuses, but Oddball had never explained himself.
Maybe he hadn't needed to, with earlier generations understanding more of his programming and how he thought, but that didn't ring true to me.
I didn't see anyone in the halls – was everyone still at emergency stations? Were we even still taking hits? I hadn't heard or felt any impacts through the hull in some time.
That actually struck me as a little ominous.
Brun was back in engineering, watching our sensor screen with an intensity bordering on single-minded. She waved as I approached, but that was all.
“Shield four is fine, for now. Are we through the debris field?”
She nodded. “Yeah, the ring or whatever it is is behind us now. We're just starting the slingshot maneuvering we need to. Ronald's handling it, Spetz was relieved to go rest up.”
Not surprising, she had been up there for twelve hours or more. Oddball hadn't mentioned her at all; I had the feeling that it wasn't an oversight – she must be happy being made female by the orders of another. I couldn't understand it, but if she was happy being a she then good for her.
Ronald was good. Not as good as I was, or even as good as Will was (what had she said her new name was to be? Willemina? No that wasn't it) but he was good.
I settled in to watch, trying not to blink.
…....
Mouse hadn't said no. I had been so sure she would say no, just spit it out, right there in front of Oddball's face, and lunge to turn him off. But she hadn't. What had changed? Was she really considering... that?
It was a great deal, an amazing deal, a deal which could change everything. The impact on our future endeavors and the future of the crew could not be understated. All it required was the sacrifice of one crew member, which was really no different than before. Less, really, since Mouse was the only one objecting to the current situation at all.
I had the feeling more would, if more were affected; Mouse was not universally well loved, for all that she thought she was. Jealousy was an ugly, ever-present emotion that even I had felt once or twice.
Who would even want to deal with Mouse in such a state? Sure, she was hot... but she was still angry and had a chip on her shoulder a mile wide. Normally the crew paired up as sort of a 'first loved, first serve' with the people unable to find romance just pairing up with each other and keeping a cool but not cold household; those who found love, like Mouse's parents, were the lucky ones. But I didn't see Oddball leaving things to chance, or letting Mouse take the spinster route.
Too bad I still couldn't figure out what its game was.
Why was Oddball, a computer made to ensure the survival of the human race, trying so hard for one member of the crew? Even if it was Mouse, the best of us, it didn't make any sense. It was inefficient and wasteful to expend so much effort, so much care... wasn't it?
Why would Oddball be so illogical? Or was the fault not in the stars, but in ourselves? I had to be missing something.
I wish I could miss the bridge, but no such luck. At least no one looked panicked. Seig came strolling up with his hands hooked in his belt, no less.
“What's up, Captain?”
“Nothing much - just had an emergency conference with Oddball.”
He perked up immediately, and behind him. Ron did too. “Oh? Something he knows that we don't?”
“No, he just finally chimed in on the Mouse situation; everything is still in the green as far as this emergency, even though it doesn't approve of the risk we're taking to gain speed.”
Seig shrugged. “Well, that isn't a surprise; Oddball doesn't approve much of what we do. If it had its way, we'd be dumb babes in the woods, relying on it for everything.”
I snorted. “Probably.” As if any human population, even a desperate one, would allow that to happen. Obstinate self-reliance was in our blood.
….in our blood....
“What's up Cap? You look like you've seen a ghost.”
“No, nothing like that. Just thought of something, that's all.”
That was it. Oddball wasn't just interested in the survival of humanity, he was interested in improving it. I had forgotten, we all had, that our families were originally chosen for our genes, not just our skills.
And if Oddball had a plan, one that had to be enforced both by its masters, and our earlier generations, then it had someone in mind. It had picked Mouse, and had someone in mind for Mouse to mate with. It really wasn't doing anything differently than our distant ancestors had done with dogs, cats, mice, and rats.
And earlier generations had to know.
Mouse should know about this, but I wasn't about to be the one to tell her. She'd figure it out herself if she hadn't already. I was going to look for evidence of the mandate given Oddball; one had to exist, and Oddball couldn't hide the data from me. I was the one person it couldn't hide anything from, in fact.
“So, Oddball chimed in on the Mouse situation, huh? What did it say?”
I turned back to Seig. “It offered a compromise. It's up to Mouse whether she accepts it; other than that I can't say.” He didn't need to know how beneficial it would be for us. No one did – if they did then they might try to pressure Mouse to accept, and that would be a disaster.
Seig shrugged again. “fair enough. As long as it's solved.”
He went back to watching the sensor screens, and I joined him. It wasn't like I'd be able to sleep more tonight in any case.
It was always the one you didn't see that got you; a bit of spacer truth. In this case, it might be incorrect; we were seeing this one, and it was well on it's way to ending us.
A rock so big it could be a rogue moon, showing a spin on our sensors that would likely make it unpredictable if I were using just math and not modeling software, was set to come in from our starboard side and crush us like a tin can in thrown into a gravity generator arm.
The good news was we had some time; almost an hour in order to make a course correction and avoid our fate. The problem was, where to? What direction should we burn in, in order to avoid all of those unseen buddies a rock like this would have?
It was always the unseen one that got you.
I felt there was another unseen thing lurking to get me; the deal Oddball was offering was a terrible one... but it felt like there was more going on there too. Like Oddball was planning something, something I couldn't see but was there, waiting to trip me up or kill me. Or kill something of me, at any rate. A bit of hyperbole, but not entirely untrue.No matter how I twisted and turned my point of view, I couldn't see the hidden trap which had to be there.
The space rocks were easier to find.
I guess it didn't matter, that particular trap only mattered if we navigated this one. I triple checked my figures; there were three different angles, three different tacks to take. We could slow down, burning a ton or more of fuel and missing our slingshot window, which would, of course, lead to burning more fuel. A terrible option but likely the safest.
The second option was under or below the moon, relatively. that direction had the benefit of burning far less fuel, but it involved a corkscrew of our own to maintain. It also had the added bonus of keeping us in our slingshot window without any extra maneuvering, if only just.
The third option was relative up, over the moon. This direction had the benefit of burning the least amount of fuel to start, though a little burn would be required once the rock was safely past in order to reorient to our window. It looked the most safe.
"What do you think, Oddball?"
"I can find no errors in your arithmetic. Based on the projections, the third course seems the best to take." He answered from my pad.
And that was why Oddball would never make a good captain. "Yeah, it's too good; I don't trust it."
I stood up and stretched, sending the bridge a message and forwarding the data and equations.
Roger called me back. "Chief engineer to the bridge, please."
Damn it, we did not have time for this; it would take me ten minutes to get there, and that was ten minutes we didn't really have; the longer we waited, the more expensive the burn to escape would be.
"What do you want?!?"
I could tell Roger was keeping himself tightly under control. "I want my chief engineer on the bridge, please."
"Fine, on my way."
I traveled there my way; it took less than five. As soon as the door opened I asked him: "What is so important that you need me here before a crucial burn?"
"The engines will either perform or blow up, with or without you, Mouse," Roger responded. "What I want is you in the most secure part of the ship."
Silly. "The most well-protected part of the ship is actually Oddball's server room."
You could light a nuke off outside the door of that room, and Oddball would survive. Well, maybe not, but close enough.
Roger blew a breath. "Second strongest, then. And while I have you here, I feel I should ask; which route would you take if the choice is yours?"
"The second strongest is the popsicle room. The bridge is third strongest." I thought about it for almost a second, mostly for the appearance of being thorough. "Under the rock."
"Not over?" Roger stressed.
I shook my head. "Too easy, and I don't trust it." Something also struck me as off about the rotation on it.
"Fair enough." Roger turned to our pilot, the one I had to admit was better than me, Billy Spetz. "Your thoughts?"
"Up seems the way to go, but I'm with Mouse - I don't trust it."
"If I may," Oddball interrupted through the bridge speakers.
"....You may." It was good Roger gave permission, since I wasn't about to and Seig wasn't here.
"The correct choice seems to be relative up, given the current orientation of the craft. Such a course would burn less fuel overall, and any added risk is marginal."
Added risk? That twigged my memory - there was something there, some reason why Oddball had mentioned it and mentioned it that way. Probably something to do with the spin....
It was on the tip of my tongue! Or mind, I guess; I was probably using that phrase wrong.
"Your opinion is noted, Oddball. however, I'm going to go with the opinions of my chief engineer and pilot, as well as my own."
Billy plotted the course before he'd finished speaking, and I could feel the engines respond and the ship turn. We were doing more course changes in the last few months than we had in my memory; they were hardly a mundane occurrence.
Alright, I didn't have to stay here anymore. Roger hadn't exactly ordered me to stay. "No Mouse, stick around."
I tried counting; Mom had told me that was an excellent way to keep my temper in check.
It didn't work. "Damn it Roger, why? If something goes wrong we're screwed."
"You're good Mouse, but you're not that good. If something goes wrong, you won't be able to fix it in time anyway."
"You don't know that!"
"I know that if we go off course even a little bit, we get pulverized. So either the engines work as intended, or we get holed. So just sit down and wait it out with the rest of us."
Did he just not trust me or something? If I was going to sabotage us, I didn't need to do it now - I could just do it.
Whatever. He was within his rights to order me around while on shift, so I settled in and linked my pad to the piloting console so I could watch the slow crawl of the rocks that wasn't actually so slow, and plot them from here.
There was a sensor echo. A sensor echo was a double image, much like you would get from an object moving fast in one of those ancient photographs. In today's day and age, it was caused by something traveling at high speed, while not being symmetrical. Symmetrical meant shape, sure, but in this case, it also meant weight or density. The differences caused the sensors to return images microseconds apart, further distorting the image.
The rogue rock we were dodging not only wasn't the same size, it was a different density, in front or the part facing us and guiding the spin. The gravity generated would also be different caused by the spin and density, and the density would draw more crap than originally expected. But it also meant I was right.
"Rides about to get bumpy."
Roger looked over. "What do you know?"
"The rock is denser than we first thought, by almost twelve percent."
Roger caught on immediately, to his credit. "....Sewage."
"It's fine, stay the course. We can keep the rock in between much of it and us."
Billy nodded, already making the adjustments. I helped by positioning the ablative shields. Oddball made a nuisance of himself by double and triple checking our math, which was perfect.
The hits we took were noisy, but minor. Engineering took a hit that caused some damage to one of the power feed junctions; which meant lights out for at least one deck of the ship; the fourth deck in this case. That was Ronald's emergency station, and he checked it out.
A chirp from my pad revealed a rock circling the other at an elliptical, pulled between the planet and the moon. A quick glance and projections proved that if we had gone up and over, it would have hit us before we knew it was there. As it was, we were going to be burning a bit more to keep away from it.
"Billy."
"I see it."
I plotted the return course, and Billy took it from there, adjusting so that we missed it again and getting us back on track. And then we were clear.
"See? There was no need to worry; the shields took almost everything. The sensors are showing clear at our front, and the signal boosters survived, so I'm willing to call the sides clear too."
Clear was relative, of course. Some rocks and debris were too small to show up on the sensors as anything more than a cloud, in cases where it was bunched. But for this case, it was enough. "I'm leaving to assess and repair the damage, Captain."
Roger winced but said nothing. He knew I was clearly in the right here.
Oddball was already tasking the bot he'd given me to check the damage from EVA again, without even asking. That was all well and good; I tasked the thing to check the hull along my own line of march; I hadn't heard anyone chime in with hull breaches or other damage from their stations, and my own pad did not show any other potential breaches to the ship, so deck four was first.
I wasn't really liking how routine this was getting.
Deck four was dark, as expected; there were emergency lights and they would last about two hours under their own chemical power, but they didn't do much.
Also, replacing all those chemical cells was going to be an irritating day job.
I stopped outside the first pressure door and double checked. There were no new damage reports popping up, and both the ship and Oddball agreed the corridor beyond had full life support.
I should probably wait and check the hull first, just to be sure. Safety first, and all that. But the drone was just so slow. I leaned back against the wall, an ear against it while I piloted the drone to listen in on the noises of the ship. There weren't any changes in what I could hear so far, at least for this area.
"Mouse."
I answered the call; Ronald was the emergency responder for this deck; he'd have made it there first and done whatever needed to ensure we didn't explode. "Go ahead, Ron."
"There is a breach, but I couldn't find it, so I dumped a couple foam grenades in the shafts and I'm monitoring the pressure, which is stable. I'm just warning you it's going to be messy in there."
"Terrific. Thank you, really."
"Don't mention it! I'm going to just be a few sections down... got a sensor ghost that might be a fire in section fifteen."
What a liar. Oh well, nothing I hadn't dealt with before.
The pressure door was a little sticky, but I managed. There was a little transfer of air, just enough to stir my hair, but nothing major and it settled quickly. The power cut was actually in one of the junctions, so that meant doing what I did best; crawling around.
I pulled my little flashlight and set to finding it. The best my pad could determine was the break was seven meters down. But that could just be the last relay capable of reporting an all clear for its section of power cables. It was best to take it slow and careful. I set my pad to keep monitoring the bridge in case there was something new on that front.
As promised, it was messy; there had to be the remains of our fast acting grenades down here; I had to slide through feet of the thankfully rapidly settling and non-toxic garbage on my way to the problem.
The guts of the junction spread before me, and showed that I was right to be concerned; the wiring and more massive cables were both holed by something that had penetrated the hull and then broke up from the impacts, spreading the joy. The just about everything from this junction was holed and sparking, and would need either a major patch job or replaced. Ronald had done an amazing job with at least one foam grenade; it had hit at nearly ground zero, expanding and sealing all the holes; it was messy, but it gave us (or me) time to fix other things before welding the hull. Though in this case I might be better served by making another plate and replacing it.
Microscopic holes could kill us too. Then again, I had a drone tasked to me by Oddball. I could do the EVA work with it while I did this. I had time for either route, really; unless we had another impact here the foam would hold for around twenty hours.
The cabling and wiring of the ship was done in twenty foot sections and then set into junctions like the one I was staring at for this reason' a significant upfront cost in time effort and resources, it made field repairs during the life of the ship a snap; The main cables would all have to be replaced, but the minor wires could be re-braided by me right here, sprayed with insulator, and simply snapped back into place. I shut off both sides of the junction with my pad and got to work.
I was on my third wire when someone grabbed my boot.
"Hey Mouse, you clear?"
Well, it was nice that Eric didn't want to actually hurt me by pulling me if I was hung up on something. But I wasn't sure I wanted to be pulled.
"Hold on a minute, and I'll back out."
He didn't wait. "Hello, Mouse. Can we talk?"
I shrugged and handed him part of my fistful of wires. "Sure, but if we're talking, you're braiding."
He wasn't supposed to be here, in the dark unpowered possibly dangerous section with me; his emergency station was two decks up. At least he had his fire extinguisher with him, so he wasn't technically in dereliction of duty.
Eric shrugged right back and took the wiring; he looked a little nervous in the dim light. "That's fair."
We braided in silence for awhile before he spoke. "The cameras in this area are out, you know."
I nodded. It was pretty obvious they would be since I was currently re-braiding the power wiring for the camera network in my hands.
Another moment passed before he spoke.
"We can say anything, do anything here, and Oddball wouldn't know."
I nodded. A twinge, but I wasn't afraid of Eric; not really. If we fought, really fought, I'd win.
Eric glanced up and met my gaze. "Look, I'm not good at this sort of thing. I'm trying, okay?"
I nodded. Everyone deserved enough of a chance to space themselves, and Eric would have his.
Eric took a breath and shocked the hell out of me. "I admire you."
"....You what?"
He grinned crookedly. "Is it that shocking? You don't take shit from anyone, you don't let anyone control you; when someone pushes you, you push right back. And all of that with a delicate little body like yours. You've never let anything stop you; not even me."
He stopped ticking points on his fingers and leaned back with a sigh. "You'd have made an excellent Captain; much better than that weaseling scumbag Roger."
Well at least I could agree with him there, though that thought was promptly followed by one of Roger as chief engineer; he'd screw things up in a hurry.
"When you checked on our parents while pranking those who voted against you, that was real telling," Eric continued.He would know that much, had been one of those people. He looked down again, twisting the next wire in his hands. I'd probably have to check that one before reinstalling it. "It really showed who you were - your character. Ugh, I'm really not good at this."
I wasn't sure where this was going anymore, so I couldn't really help him out... but I felt for him.
Another moment passed while we worked in silence.
Eric spoke again. "Every time we played football, I aimed for you, you know."
"I know." It was pretty obvious; he couldn't have made his intent any clearer if he'd hung up banners and broadcast it over the intercoms.
Eric set down the wire he was working on, carefully. "Every time I went after you, it was to do this."
And then he lunged, almost but not quite knocking me over, and trapping my arms.
He wasn't attacking me though or slamming me around. He was... hugging me? A gentle cradle, his own hands wrapped around me but not roaming anywhere, his own face close to mine and his breath in my ear. He tightened a little and breathed in, and I tried a few experimental punches to his kidney.
He winced but smiled. "Not an inch. Peace, I'm not going to do anything else. But I needed to do that."
He released me and backed off, his hands up.
"What in the name of all of humanity was that, Eric?"
At least he had the dignity to look embarrassed. "That was a hug, Mouse. Something I've wanted to do for a long time."
"Eric, I was a guy not that long ago, and I'll be a guy again."
Eric stopped looking down again, meeting my gaze. "No you weren't Mouse, and regardless of what happens in the future, you won't be because you never were. You were always playing with the boys, but you never were one. I wasn't the only one that saw it, or sees it now. Just... when the time comes, and you make that choice... just consider me too."
"I think you should leave, Eric." How could he think I wasn't a boy, even growing up? Size didn't make a boy or man. Just what was going on here? What did I miss?
Eric gave his lopsided smile again. "Not a single inch. Alright Mouse, see you later." Were his eyes shimmering in the low light?
I stopped braiding as he went out of sight. He could still hear me. "Eric."
The footfalls away shuffled to a stop. "Yeah?" his response held something unidentifiable in it.
"What you just did took guts, man. Major bravery."
"...Thanks."
......
The crisis was averted, for now, the major damage already dealt with and life on the ship was due to return to normal at any moment now... but Eric was not at his post. A standard hourly sweep (something done during emergency situations like this one) revealed everyone present and accounted for but him, and I had a sneaking suspicion I knew right where he was.
There were only a few sections of the ship not covered in cameras and sensors, and fewer now since Mouse had shown us where a few were by hiding there (she refused to reveal the remainder, and given our suspicions of Oddball that was fair) and the last section that Eric had been spotted in.
And there he was, striding out of the darkened section of deck four with his fire extinguisher in hand. The front of his suit was covered in the remains of one of our adhesive foam grenades, which was a little unusual. His jaw tightened and his eyes started to burn when he saw me. He altered course to stop directly in front of me and ground out: "Don't."
And just what was this? Eric could be a little abrasive, but he wasn't usually this... belligerent.
"Don't what, Eric? Don't bother looking for a missing crew member?"
He sighed. "Don't go past that door. Look, we both know why you're really here. Mouse and I had things to discuss and I was more likely to find a fire here than on deck two. Just don't go past that door; I didn't hurt her or anything, but I gave her a lot to think about, and I'd rather she actually think about it then get interrupted."
Despite the tired look he gave me, he was flexing his arms; getting through that door wouldn't be an easy thing. Just what was going on here? "You'll forgive me if I don't take your word for it, given your past history with her."
Eric blew another breath. "That's fair. Call her instead; she had her pad on her."
Left unspoken was Eric's truly horrible skill at coding or hacking. There was no way he'd be able to fake a call on the fly - and it was pretty sad that I had to think something like that. I drew out my own pad.
"Mouse. Status on repairs?"
"I haven't even been working half an hour, Captain. The status is I need to rewire junction thirty-one twenty-seven and until I do power isn't getting to fifteen meters of this deck. Power is rerouted through thirty-one twenty-five and six until I get things back up. So far I haven't noticed any pressure loss, But I'm double checking with the drone Oddball lent me."
She was fine; she sounded fine. A totally normal tone of voice and totally normal sarcasm heaped on my new title. A little anger for the interruption.
"Alright, keep me posted."
"Will do... just as soon as I have something to post about."
I closed the call. I wanted to tell Eric to stop looking at me that way, but I knew how that would go over. "Come on Eric, let's go find deck two. It might burst into flames without you."
He rolled his eyes and his shoulders but fell into step.
The lack of pressure drop was a little worrying; anything that hit with enough force to shred a cable junction had to have left holes in the hull; even if it was something small and widespread, something with that much force should have depressurized this entire section. Ronald had gotten to it in time, clearly.
It was good for us that nothing of the sort happened, but a little worrying.
I checked on the status of the bridge and the plotted courses of the rogue planet, it's moon, and all the debris we could mark; there were no surprises there; I could afford to look further into things.
"Ron."
"Yes, Captain?" It was rather refreshing not to hear sarcasm or simmering hatred in a response. I decided not to dwell on it.
"Where are you now?"
"Deck four, section fifteen. Why?"
Well away from Mouse, in one of the still lit sections of deck four. Technically not a bad place to be, central to the deck for a rapid response to any more damage, and I hadn't called an all clear. I would have expected him to be helping Mouse though; had Eric scared him off?
I shot Eric a look and he shrugged, his face relaxed and open.
"I'd like to talk to you about the damage you saw."
"Alright, on my way."
I stopped to wait for him; Eric went on; I tracked him all the way back to his post.
The little drone Oddball had given me was due back; I watched it go. It would get re-purposed again, the weapons re-attached and the software I'd used to control it removed. It was with mixed feelings that I watched it go.
Well, not really. I was more pissed at what it implied, now that I had a spare moment to think on it. None of the other engineers had been offered a chance to control a security drone, and I hated being coddled.
I finished up and replaced the panel; the power junctions were now fully restored. Sure, the panels themselves needed replacing to ensure there was at least some armor in place against the vagaries of ship life, but the patch I'd smeared on them would hold for now. I added the panel numbers to my ever-growing list of minor fixes and grabbed my tools.
"Mouse, come in."
I tapped the message button on my pad. "Go ahead Brun."
"You were supposed to be asleep almost an hour ago."
Whoops. Time flies when you're dealing with one of the few things that makes sense in your life anymore.
"Alright, I'm done and heading to bed. Clock me out?"
"Done," Brun told me before ending the call. She seemed angry; probably thinking I didn't trust her. Well as far as engineering and repairs, I did, but getting lost in my work was something any engineer could do. Things were still too tense between us, not that I really cared.
I hefted my tools with a sigh; I wasn't about to waste time going all the way back to engineering to drop them off, especially after having someone else break protocol and clock me out. I'm sure Oddball already knew of the transgression, but I was more than up to the task of making sure captain "Call me Captain" Roger never found out. He was turning into quite the martinet.
I wasn't really sure what was going on there, but he was surpassing his mandate with regularity; one oddball was enough for this ship.
My lights came on as I opened my door, and I set the tools aside. At least they would be easy to find in the morning.
And of course, I was covered in dust, some ash, some grease, a few traces of fire retardant foam, and other things that might be even less savory. So a shower first then, and one using a liquid rather than just sonic energy. Which meant more time not sleeping, and I had a shift in the morning. That ever-growing list wasn't about to shorten itself.
By the time I was finished the shower itself was in need of a cleaning, but my clothes and I were mostly fine. The overalls would never really be clean, but that was okay; the clothes underneath were what counted, and they were pristine. Any stray grease had luckily came out. I hung them up carefully in the stall to dry and hit the button to dry everything off.
That done, I left them there; it was the safest place for them and I was tired. I made it to bed and decided to forego the safety netting; it was too much work.
......
We had done it. Successfully navigated the rogue planet and his much more dangerous friends, and used the gravity well to slingshot toward our destination with speed. We would be hitting our target galaxy years earlier, maybe even decades earlier.
And all I could think about was Mouse. She was the same old Mouse - or was she? She acted the same, mostly, same gruff nature, same competitive streak, same anger... and yet she hadn't knocked Eric into the next universe when he interrupted her work and she told me Oddball had made a pitch to her and then said little more. That would normally mean she was actually considering it, but that was crazy.
And to top it all off, I was Captain here; with this ship and crew as my direct responsibilities. Maybe even all that remained of humanity on my shoulders. Why couldn't I think of anyone or anything else? Fuel concerns, what Marion was up to or why Brun was so mad at the moment were valid concerns, yet I really didn't care. Just a thousand other things I couldn't be bothered with.
I wanted to make it stop, but didn't know how. Did I dare ask advice? If so, from who? No, that was stupid. I'd just have to work on it; surely I could focus correctly like I used to.
"Yo, boss."
There, that report was done... wait, Seig was here. "Yes, Seig?"
"Your shift is over, boss. You can give up the chair and get some sleep."
"You know..."
Seig cut me off with a nod. "All caught up. We need to watch for rocks on the back end, but we have them all mapped now, there shouldn't be any surprises. Go get some sleep."
He didn't have to tell me twice.
My pad chimed as soon as the bridge door closed. It was a text from Oddball. A request for a meeting, together with Mouse... for tomorrow. I clicked in the affirmative, more than a little curious. Neither Mouse nor I had called for the meeting; what reason did Oddball have for it? To pressure us?
No, no more worrying about it. Sleep was a good thing and something I needed.
It was also something I'd have to put off a little longer; Lissa was standing in front of my door alone, wringing her hands. "What is it, Lissa?"
She jumped at my voice, even though she'd seen me coming. "I found something a little odd, and I'd like a second opinion on it."
Well, I wasn't the chief botanist. "You need to talk to your friends, not me."
She shook her head in a hurry. "No, I know what it is... I need help figuring out what it means."
Sigh. "Alright, what is it?"
She touched a button on her pad, and my pad chimed. I managed to keep my feelings on how silly it was to send me something from a distance of three meters and looked.
It was a document; a file really, which contained the chemical composition of our plants we grew hydroponically for food. It was easy to spot the chemicals which didn't belong. Vitamin C for example was naturally occurring in the plants, but the report was showing almost ten times the normal amount. The reports after that was an analysis of the hydroponic solutions we used to grow the plants - they showed varying degrees of the chemicals used. The iron specifically was almost at the amount needed to kill every plant exposed to it. There was another here, a synthetic that I didn't recognize.
"Lissa, tell me."
"Yes?" she asked, almost stuttering over the word.
"Did the cameras show anyone tampering with the fluids, or the plants directly?"
"No, it was the first thing I checked. But all the crew have alibis, as best as I can tell."
Left unsaid was the fact that Lissa was not the best among us with computers, and being able to fool her with a hack was possible.
"Did you check our chemical stocks?" The chemicals used here had to have come from somewhere.
"They didn't come from Botany or any of the labs I checked," Lissa answered, picking at her clothes.
I was mildly impressed she checked into this that far. That also didn't discount everything, but it did mean Lissa had checked everywhere such substances were supposed to be kept.
"I think we need a second opinion, here," This was an active act of sabotage, and while I knew from a glance it wouldn't kill us, I couldn't figure out what it would do. "We need to talk to Brian or Rig." Brian was off shift right now, but Rig was the night shift chemist.
"In the morning," Lissa replied. "I set up a filter which will remove most of it, and Marion assured me we are in no danger - I just wanted you to know, and you've been so busy lately."
I held up my pad. "You could have called; I'd have responded." Just what was she trying to say here?
"Someone put stuff in our food supply, and it wasn't me!" She replied with some heat. "I wasn't sure what else they may have done, and wanted this conversation as off the record as I could get it."
Whatever. "Fine, if Marion knows and you've filtered for it, then I guess it can wait until morning. But in the morning I expect you to report bright and early and back me up when we go to see Brian. We'll meet up at the cafeteria; I'll want to talk to Marion too."
"Sure. I'll see you in the morning." Lissa sounded almost happy under all the paranoia.
Well, that was unfair; someone was clearly out to get us. But I couldn't figure out how; none of these were poisons unless concentrated in much higher amounts. And for all the elevated amounts in these reports, they fell well short of poisonous levels.
I finally got into my quarters without anything else coming up; safe at last. I disrobed and fed my uniform into the chute, and fell into bed.
Maybe this time I'd actually be able to sleep.
......
Morning came too soon. I stretched then slapped my alarm off (Why use a button when a full slap was more satisfying? Best modification ever.) and almost rolled straight into the netting before I remembered it was there. Off to a great start; at least I didn't need to shower this morning.
I checked the clothes in the stall, which were just as clean now as they were last night, and spent my normal shower time actually cleaning the stall and making sure the grease hadn't clogged it.
I really should have expected it when my pad chimed.
The call was from our fearless leader, of course, and I now regretted almost running to get to it; it clearly wasn't an emergency.
"Yes, Captain?"
"Mouse, what are you up to?"
"I was just about to make some breakfast." He knew my schedule almost as well as I did; what was he even up to?
"I'd like to pick your brain about a matter that's come to my attention, before the meeting."
Meeting? "What meeting? I'm not aware of any meeting."
The answer surprised me. "Oddball scheduled one."
So Oddball wanted an answer. I wasn't sure I had one to give him yet.
"Fine, I'm on my way." He meant now, and that meant no breakfast here. It also meant the cafeteria, because there was no way he'd want me to skip a meal; he was a bit of a baby like that.
Sure enough, he was there sitting down at a table near the door and picking at a bowl of something vaguely porridge-like. Claire and Marion were sitting on either side, their own bowls empty and water half drank. Not sharing the same table, but not far, Lissa sat nursing her own food alone.
And at the empty spot which was conveniently facing the door, a bowl of the sludge and a cup of tea. Actual tea, by the smell.
Whatever, a show of trust was in order, I guess. They would only spike my food once.
"So what's going on?" The tea was passable if a little weak. The porridge was porridge, just a little blander.
My pad chimed; Lissa had sent me something. No one spoke, so I gave the file a glance. I could see why they called me now, and why they waited; the timestamp on much of this file was yesterday.
"I didn't do it."
"We know."
Well, thank you, captain Traitor, for that vote of confidence.
"We followed your movements through security footage and your signal. We know you were nowhere near the hydroponics section, and only passed biology once on your way to deck four." Lissa helpfully explained.
I rescinded the thanks for a vote of confidence in my head; it wasn't needed. "So, should I be eating and drinking this?"
"It's safe enough," Marion told me. "I filtered as much of the additives out as I could, and what's left shouldn't cause any concerns. Especially if you lighten up on the vitamins for a while."
"Don't look at us like that," Lissa continued. "We had to rule you out first due to recent events. The real problem is that no one else was in hydroponics either except us, and only Brian was in biology."
I assumed Lissa meant her and her followers by 'us'. Still, that was curious.
"Well someone could have accessed hydroponics by the emergency systems." Like all the critical systems on board the ship, there were redundancies for botany. The emergency systems were designed to kick in automatically if the standard systems were cut somehow, providing water sunlight and nutrition to all the plants until engineering could fix whatever the problem was.
Had the damage from yesterday knocked out hydroponics somehow? The time stamps suggested otherwise, as some of this data was a week or more old at least.
"I think we need more info. None of this is overtly poisonous; in fact, it is all beneficial in the short term, as long as we don't allow too much build up."
"A second opinion, yes. We were going to go ask Dirk."
Oh. "That hack? You'd be better off asking Brian."
"Hey, Dirk isn't that bad."
Yeah shut up Marion, Dirk didn't have your manhood preserved in a jar on ice somewhere. "He's bad enough; he's a hack. I had to help him pass about half his tests."
Marion blew an exasperated breath. "Mouse, you helped just about everyone pass their tests at one point or another. That's hardly something to hold against him... unless you're holding it against all of us for some stupid reason?"
Oh, now she was messing with me. "That's not what I meant and you knew it."
"You do have problems seeing the good in certain people," Claire stated softly.
"I'm still angry at you Claire, and I dislike lazy people on principle."
Captain Traitor moved, looming over the table. "That's one of the many things we like bout you Mouse - your terribly judgemental hatred of those you consider lazy."
So that's how he wanted to be. How all three of them wanted to be, it seemed. "You're lucky I'm still eating, or I'd walk out right now and just go to my shift. This isn't even my job."
Captain traitor thought of it a moment, the fake smile wiped off his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. Please help us figure out what's going on?"
"Sure. In fact, I think I already have. I'm not sure of the why, but I think I know the who."
Roger actually looked surprised. "Who? And how did they get past the cameras?"
That wasn't going to be how this worked. I finished my tea. "I'll tell you when I'm sure. How about we go see Dirk and get his opinion on this?"
Roger didn't need to be told twice - he stood up and started striding out like he was in full command of the situation. Everyone else followed his lead, including me, so I guess he wasn't that far off.
I was beginning to suspect his control didn't extend as far as previously thought, however; how many decisions had he actually made of his own free will since getting the job?
It was wonderful... a rare occurrence: Dirk was in, and not asleep during his shift yet. I decided to record the moment for posterity.
He lunged up from his past time of precariously leaning his chair and resting his feet on a desk he never used and almost fell. To his credit, he recovered quickly.
"Uh-oh. Um, morning Captain, Mouse, Claire, Marion. To what do I owe this visit? Are any of you sick? I don't see any injuries."
Roger held out his pad. "We have a question. What would those chemicals and nutrients do at those concentrations to the human body?"
"Nothing in the short term, but I'm guessing you already knew that. Hmm...."
He made a show of thinking. My guess is a few slipped gears would come flying out of an ear. But he surprised me.
Snapping his fingers, he delivered his verdict. "I got it! Babies!"
He really surprised me.
He also surprised Roger and Lissa, who both deadpanned "What." in chorus. I was too busy thinking to waste time with that.
Dirk explained. "Babies. The chemicals here are nutrients, natural ones where we're from, things our bodies need to operate efficiently. We all know that much, but in this instance and at these amounts they would act as a natural fertility boost with few to no side effects."
I knew it. "Can they be used for anything else?"
Dirk turned to me. "Not in those concentrations, no. The dissipation of the nutrients into the plants has even been accounted for."
Sigh. "Well, turns out we need to talk to Oddball after all. He's clearly the culprit."
"But how?" Roger gasped out. "Oddball has no means to tamper with the food!"
"But he does. The emergency back up system, in case the primary and secondary systems fail. Oddball is patched directly into it, and can both monitor our food supply and alter the content of the nutrient baths. The question is how... how does he justify it? There has to be some loophole there somewhere, the charter has us clearly in control of our own food supply."
"I'll figure it out," Roger said. "You go ahead and get your second opinion. Talk to Brian. See if it could be anything else. The rest of you, back to your stations - and Marion continue filtering the food supply. Not a word about this to anyone else."
Wow, that almost sounded decisive. "Got it."
Whatever, I moved. Roger called out as the door opened: "Don't be late to the meeting, Mouse."
"I won't."
Brian didn't take long to find; he was working of course. It looked like a new acid compound, something that melted rock but not a suit, judging by the testing.
"Something I can do for you Mouse?" He hadn't even looked around.
"Yes, there is. I need you to take a look at my pad a moment and give me your impression on what you see."
Brian carefully put his compound down and carefully stripped off his gloves. "Well, that's cryptic," he told me.
"I can't help it," I told him back. "I don't want to color your perceptions."
He washed his hands first, something I was grateful for. "Alright, hand it here."
He eyed the screen for a second then looked up and half-joked: "So when does the aphrodisiac get entered in?"
I didn't get it. "A what?"
"An aphrodisiac. Something that increases a human's sex drive. Because this is for fertility, most likely. The aphrodisiac would be the second part."
I'd sooner gargle engine exhaust. "Let's go with never. You've officially been sworn to secrecy by the way."
Captain traitor hadn't told me to swear Brian in, but it was pretty obviously an oversight on his part. Brian gave a curt nod as if he expected it before asking the expected question.
"So who did this? It wasn't you, or you wouldn't be here."
"None of the crew actually, as far as we can tell." I left unsaid who that left out.
Brian was no slouch, he caught on immediately. "Oh... interesting."
"Not the word I'd use, but we can go with that."
"So, are steps being taken?" Brian's question took me by surprise. He almost sounded disapproving of any such special measures.
"Yes, we're filtering the food pending further notice."
"Well, that sounds stupid. The stuff we were being hit with is good for other things, and it could help us in other many other ways, like building up our bones before we hit a planet or improving our immune systems. Normally Oddball won't let us tamper with our food supply, citing some very real dangers - but with oddball doing it? I mean the only thing it'll do is increase fertility. Now if oddball actually adds an aphrodisiac, then we all have cause to worry, but the crew has to have babies sometime.
"We aren't ready yet at all," I countered. "And the standard procedure is to form families first. Get married, move in together, that sort of thing."
"But why?" Brian asked. "You ever wonder that? And how soon did our parents settle down? Our parents are all in their thirties or younger. How soon did they get together after generation one was frozen?"
I'd never really thought of it, actually. My parents hadn't talked much about it, except to stress how important a family was to maintain a proper human society, and proper ship morale. I knew they loved each other, and I knew they had married before I was born.
I guess I had some research to do. Later of course, in between all work I had and the meeting later.
Out loud I admitted my lack. "Honestly, no idea. I don't suppose you have one?"
"A little," he admitted. "My parents were silent about much of how they got together, probably because we were considered too young to know the gory details as kids, but I did little digging, and most of the marriages were recorded seven to eight months before the first child was born; very few marriages were over nine months old before a child was born. Incidentally, your parents were one of those older marriages."
That much I knew; I was the youngest, after all, with my conception happening a year after my parents got married. And my condition as an only child was one of a kind, and highly suspect. It could even be the start of all of this, not that I'd blame Mom for something she couldn't help.
I had no doubt Mom's issues would not be repeated, either. Not by any of us; steps would be taken. I also had no doubt those steps would be moral, at least within some framework of morality; there had been no euthanizing, and there would be no euthanizing.
There were some fates which could be worse than euthanasia, potentially.
Well, I needed to work the problem at hand. "Well I'll see what I can do about testing for any further contaminants, but until then if you have anything stashed away from prying eyes, you might want to test it."
Most of the crew had some spare stocks of food and water stored, either in their own kitchens or in an undisclosed location. At least, if I knew human nature at all. Even if a few extra weeks of food and water wouldn't really mean much if everything we had went bad. I had three myself, and my emergency plan called for us to freeze early and let the ship go fully automated as long as it could.
Leaving Oddball in charge wasn't ideal for us, but I was beginning to suspect more and more that he didn't need our help at all, and our careers were more a formality to keep us busy and out of his way. Before this morning, it never would have occurred to me that Oddball was allowed to tamper with our food supplies in this way.
"Will do Mouse, thanks. Any reason why we're keeping this quiet?"
"Captains orders - he didn't explain and I didn't ask. My guess is he's waiting to make the announcement."
It did make telling people to b wary of their food difficult; perhaps it was to avoid a panic? But that was silly; we didn't panic.
The alarm on my pad chimed. I snagged it out of Brian's mostly slack hand. "Sorry, that alarm means if I don't hurry I'll be late for a meeting."
"Good luck." No, Brian was not a dummy.
"Thanks."
"Thank you for coming," Oddball told us both.
"Thank you for having us," I spoke the formulaic response without thinking. Mindless trivialities weren't really my thing, but this one did force focus on me. The proper mindset to get anything done was not to scream obscenities, after all. Another person might be impressed, but not so much an artificial intelligence.
Besides, I'd already done the screaming thing. I was tempted to indulge for the benefit of Captain traitor beside me, but he already knew how I felt about this too. I did have some leverage I could use now, should Oddball continue to stonewall me. I had the feeling I would be.
"Refreshments?" Oddball asked.
There was no way, not during this. "No, thank you."
Oddball turned to Captain Traitor, who shook his head no.
"Alright. I have asked you here today to discuss a solution to the personnel problem which currently faces us."
A personnel problem, was it? "By all means, go ahead and lay out your solution."
"My solution is a compromise between our views. You continue with your role in the breeding program, Chief engineer Zamir. After which I will reverse the operation which caused you such distress, should you still desire it."
Oddball was insane. "You want me to get pregnant and carry a child to term."
"Or two, for best results of the program, correct," Oddball answered as if he were discussing upcoming solar storms.
"And who would raise this kid? I go back to normal, that ruins our traditional family unit."
"You and your husband would, of course. If a female role model is required for correct socialization, one can be assigned."
This was beyond surreal. "I think I can choose my own role models, thanks."
Oddball drew back, arms out. "Of course."
"Do you actually have them? My balls in a jar?"
Oddball nodded. "Your testes have been cryogenically frozen in the event they were needed. reattachment would be a simple matter."
My mind screamed out at the lack of sense it all made. If the entire point was for humans to make children using the easiest, low tech, least expensive methods, then all of this was a waste, so-called emergency or not. I mean genetically having kids was one thing, but why was it necessary physically?
"And reductions elsewhere, hormones, and the other things?"
Oddball nodded. "You would be sterile, but everything would function as before once the operations were finished."
So no having kids as a guy. To be honest, I remembered my own childhood, and just the one Oddball was demanding would be more than enough. Not to mention the cheating aspect. Maybe I'd want to, but I didn't see it right now.
Captain traitor had been silent a long time. Probably pondering the idea of cryo-balls. But now he spoke up: "And who does Mouse need to marry for this? You have someone in mind, don't you."
"I do, of course," Oddball admitted. "That is why you are present for this meeting."
Wait, Oddball got to choose who I married? Oddball was playing match maker? But then why was Roger here?
Oh, no. No no no no. A thousand times, no.
"You mean...."
"For best results, Captain Smitt and Chief engineer Zamir should marry each other, yes. Of all the crew, they are most compatible with each other. However, if you do not like that choice chief engineer Zamir, I have prepared a list of compatible candidates, which I will send to your pad. You are free to choose your own candidate of course, but your husband must agree to both the marriage and the compromise set forth. Otherwise, the arrangement may lead to more personnel problems."
Sure enough, my pad pinged with a message.
This was a lot to take in. "Can I take some time to think about it?"
Oddball raised up, his hands wide again. A disarming gesture? Something meant to be like a shrug? "Of course. You may confer with me any time, by pad or in person, with your decision. I've nothing further to discuss. Is there a matter you would like to bring to my attention?"
Oh, he knew. Of course, he knew I knew, but he knew I wanted to bring it up; that I wasn't going to let it slide in light of other manipulations. Which I might have done in the past before Oddball decided to chop me up.
"Yes, I have an issue. Why are you putting additives in our food and water supplies?"
"All members of the crew are required to procreate to preserve humanity. My goals include keeping the crew at optimum health to facilitate such procreation. As you are now considered adults, the additives in your supplies, both food and otherwise, are meant to keep you in peak health and make procreation and births as easy as possible. If you have any questions, you may consult the Magellan's charter, pages thirty-seven and thirty-eight, starting at paragraph two."
I was aware of the passages Oddball was quoting. "Those passages don't mention anything about drugs or mineral supplements in our food. or water."
Oddball leaned in, his hands working. "They state specifically that I am allowed to use any means which are not harmful to the crew to ensure procreation as a mission objective."
Yeah, that bird has flown. "A little late there."
Oddball leaned back. "The case involving you, Chief engineer Zamir, was an emergency and thus fell under different clauses."
He stated that I was already aware of that by not stating it, loud and clear.
"So wait, what you two are saying is the additives are Oddballs idea, and that they are being used to get us in the mood?"
Roger, ladies, and gentlemen, finally catching up to the conversation. Why was he 'compatible', anyway?
"Yes Roger, they promote general health, and the healthier we are the more inclined we'll be to... procreate. It's science, of a sort. Leads to a healthier sex drive. And once the women get pregnant, it will encourage the proper growth of the fetus. Calcium supplements will still need to happen, but that's mostly aftercare."
Roger nodded slowly. "Right, I can see that, I guess."
Oddball nodded. "It's all simple biology."
I barely kept my myself from an outburst. There were other things that were simple biology too, and he felt no hesitation at all at screwing all that up. "Are you monitoring our intake, or are we responsible for that?"
Well, of course, I am monitoring your intake," Oddball said, this time clearly surprised. "The health and safety of the crew are one of my responsibilities, even if not mine alone. No one shall receive a harmful dose of any vitamin or mineral I am responsible for."
"Without any prior knowledge of your actions, one of us could have taken a supplement and overdosed." I knew for a fact several of the crew did when we had extra available.
"Already factored into my calculations," Oddball said, so smug I could almost taste it past the heavy metals I'd unknowingly ingested.
"If there are no other concerns from either of you?" A clear dismissal there.
"No, I'm fine for now." I turned to Roger.
Roger shrugged. "None from me; you have explained your reasoning well enough."
"Please do let me know of your decisions then. I must return to oversight of the Magellan's automated functions. Have a good morning."
And with that parting shot Oddball sucked himself back into his locker or cubby or indentation or whatever it was, and the door opened.
I wasted no time getting out, and Roger almost ran me over. We both pretended Oddball had stopped listening. He was supposed to, but I wouldn't put water rations on it, and from the look on Roger's face neither would he.
"Well, that was... something." He said, blowing a breath.
"Yeah, it was," I agreed. Best to dive right in. "What do you think?"
Roger stopped. "Well I think it's still not fair to you, but it's better than it was."
The gall of the man.
"It's a way out. What do you think of the list?"
Roger suddenly got very interested in the scuff mark on his right boot. "Well, I'm willing to go along with it if you are."
The sheer gall!
"As if. Go do your job Captain, I need to do mine."
"Mouse...!"
"Later, Captain."
The list was short... of course, since there were only twenty-five males (only for now, I would be again) in the crew. Siegfried was on it, and Eric. The names rapidly got worse from there. Guido? Dirk? Not like the idea of letting any man touch me was a good one, but those three? I mean Sieg was at least a decent guy, he might say yes...
But did I really want to go through with this? the idea of letting a man do.. that to me nauseated me. I was supposed to be the one doing that to women, not be on the receiving end. But the alternative was to stage a mutiny, find a way to shut off Oddball that would stick and risk us all. Or, stay female forever and still be expected to have a child or children.
It really was the same trap as before, the same cage, only with a door opened this time. Do my time and get out, or risk our entire colony and possibly all that was left of humanity and Earth on my genitals. I had to admit, genitals were closer to winning than it probably should be - but in reality, I'd already made that choice before, when I hadn't sabotaged the ship or killed us all.
So, who did I want to spend the next year or even two years of my life with? And who would be okay with that, knowing I'd be a man again eventually? It wasn't like there were a lot of options for sex, we took the family dynamic very seriously. Who could I trust to say yes to that and not try to back out later? I suppose if they gave their word, Oddball would force them to keep it, but hard feelings would still happen; I mean, it did for me.
I didn't have to decide now - but it felt like I did. But I needed to get my head in the moment; those air scrubbers on deck four wouldn't replace themselves, and after the hit the ship took, they probably needed it; better to do it before they failed.
Marion fell into step beside me as I passed the cafeteria. "So, how did it go?"
"Good I guess. Seems like Oddball thought up a way both of us can get what we want out of this mess. All I have to do is have kids, and he will reverse the surgery."
Marion stopped cold, then caught up. "That's... wow. So he wants you to do the whole thing, then he will undo it? won't that destabilize the family dynamic?"
"Yep! Shouldn't you be minding the kitchen? Someone might run off with the food."
"No one is going to dare touch the supplies. Not now, anyway. Which reminds me, what about our food problem?"
I turned, giving her my best smile. "all supplements in measured doses designed to keep us all healthy as we breed."
Marion blinked. "Sounds less romantic when you put it that way. We aren't mindless, we don't need the help."
It did indeed. "Oddball's words, not mine. And like it or not, we're getting it. He quoted the charter to me over it, one of those nice vague clauses the earlier generations wrote in to screw us."
"I really hate those clauses!" Marion exclaimed.
I stopped. "A little too much, there. I can hear the insincerity."
"I thought I might be overselling it. Sorry, I think the previous generations probably thought of something like this and wrote it that way on purpose. It's bad luck for us, but in the panic about the species surviving, I can see it."
"Yeah." Left unsaid was the other clause that came into effect. It might also have been a legitimate mistake or a happy accident. Not that blaming people long dead was in any way helpful - or healthy.
Enough of that; that way of thinking led down dark paths. I never needed to be so introspective before. I guess funny things happen when the people you trust conspire against you.
"Any further and you're going to be helping me collect my tools."
"Yeah, you're right," Marion said, stopping. "I better get back. Let me know what you decide, alright?"
"You'll be one of the first to know." I mean obviously, she couldn't be first, because my husband (still not used to that word applying to me) would have to agree.
Marion seemed to get it. "I better be. Call me when you decide, alright?"
"Sure." Whatever, it was annoying, but I'd do it.
Brun was waiting for me in the changing room, back against the bulkhead in a show of nonchalance. "So, how did it go?"
Was I going to have to do this for everyone? "Aren't you supposed to be asleep right now?"
"I am, but it didn't feel right to leave engineering unmanned."
She had me there. "Well, I've been given a choice. I can go back to being a man again, if I have kids first, basically."
Brun's eyes got wide. "So, you have to get married and everything?"
I nodded. "Yep, Oddball wants no deviation on that. Get married, have at least one kid."
"With someone else picking up the slack there," Brun mused. then she asked the question Marion failed to: "Who to? someone specific, right?"
I nodded again. "He was kind enough to send me a short list. And the person I chose would have to agree to let me have the surgery to reverse all this."
Brun's eyes got even wider. "Wow, that's... going to take some doing, I think."
"Tell me all about it. But tell me about it after you sleep, since you've already been up an hour longer than you should have."
Brun levered herself up with a sigh. "Right, I'm gone. just one more thing. My brother, is he on that short list?"
Brun was Eric's sister. "He's second on it. How did you guess that?"
"It wasn't really a guess - or at least, not completely a guess. Still, I bet you blew him off, right? He said something stupid, and you told him to get lost?"
She knew her brother well. "Yes, he did. Why?"
"Just don't cross him off yet; if anyone would agree to let you return to normal, it would be him."
And with that, she was gone, confident in her size and long stride to let her get the last word in. I let her keep it. Mainly because she wasn't wrong; even if Roger voted against me that night, now he would back me as much as he could; I felt sure of it.
Would anyone else?
I got suited up, grabbed my tools and my spare scrubbers, and headed back down to deck four.
Replacing air scrubbers was an easy job, as long as you had the boots for it. You simply pulled the old one out and slotted the new one. I'd just done the job earlier this year, and deck four wouldn't even need it except space rock had punctured the hull... leaving all kinds of particulates behind; at least, potentially. I wasn't going to take the chance of a rock or dust or the fire damaging one and having it fail later when we needed it.
My pad chimed just as I reached the halfway point in my journey. It was Claire.
"Is it true?" She had asked.
I rolled my eyes; of course, Marion had talked. Probably the entire ship knew by now. Still, perhaps playing dumb was best.
So I sent back "Is what true?"
"The marriage thing. The balls thing." She sent back.
I didn't see any reason to deny it. "Both true."
She sent back one word. "Congratulations."
I wasn't so sure congratulations were in order, but I guess it was kind of a victory. It was kind of insulting that she just thought I'd roll over and take the deal - even if I was contemplating exactly that.
I received three more messages before I reached deck four. what was Marion doing, just going down the list? I ignored them; they weren't priority flagged so they were just people too curious for both their and my own good. The wonders of a small ship, I supposed; I was once again top news. I hated it just as much this time around.
Maybe I could set a keyword related automatic response, and that would end the distraction. I couldn't really just leave my pad behind, I might need it for something important.
I had just gotten settled in to fix my first scrubber when someone called into the vents: "Mouse, you there?"
It was a bit distorted from distance and echo, so all I could tell was whoever wanted me was male.
I might end up leading a mutiny after all. "Yes, hold one and I'll be right out."
It was Eric, of all people. "Don't you have a job to be at?"
He shrugged and displayed his teeth for me. "No, not really. You going to rat me out, Mouse?"
Oh, he was so proud of that one, I could tell. "Maybe. If Oddball or the bridge hasn't already logged it. Why are you here?"
"Why else? I heard something interesting through the grapevine, and came to the source to confirm it."
I grabbed another scrubber and started for the next conduit. "Probably all true. Oddball offered a compromise of sorts. I still haven't decided if I'll accept."
"Well, if you decide on a mutiny, I'm with you; I don't like Oddball."
I could believe it. Then Eric just had to continue.
"But out of curiosity, who was on that list the dumb computer sent you?"
I just had to stop, turn and stare him down. "Yes Eric, you were on the list."
He pumped his fist. "Good, not out of it yet. If you decide to go along with this weird deal. I don't see how it's even an option, really. Just the idea of marrying another guy...."
I had to stop him there before he got the wrong idea. "Trust me, I feel the same way. And let's be honest, anyone marrying me is marrying another guy."
He gave me a look. "Really? Hate to break it to you, but you've never been that guy like, Mouse. And right now you are not a guy. You can become one again, but for now? Nope, and that's the only way to see it. I'm not the only one who thinks so, go ahead and ask around if you don't believe me."
I turned away and kept my hands locked.
He noticed. "Look, that came out wrong; I didn't mean to insult you, I was just stating facts, and I wanted to say that if I was on your list, well, I'd back your play, alright? You have my kids, and I won't object to anything you want to do."
My mind locked on the first part of that I could bore into. "Kids, huh?"
"However many are needed," Eric affirmed. "The normal requirement is two."
"I've been told one is enough." Let's see what he does with that.
He didn't even hesitate. "Great, one is fine with me. Whatever the deal is, I'll be fine with it - so at least consider me, please? I'll do right by you."
I couldn't lie to him, but I couldn't lead him on either. "I'm considering everyone on the list. Even Dirk."
That got a blink. "Dirk? That guy? How does a guy like that get a shot?"
I shrugged. "Oddball's criteria, not mine. I've got no idea how he thinks."
"Yeah, I can see that. Probably some genetics thing. But still, Dirk."
I lunged into the next vent. "I know. Dirk's not as annoying as some people, but still. Anyway, you better get back to your station before you're noticed. Captain traitor will have you up on charges."
"Heh. Captain traitor - I like that. Alright Mouse, I'll see you later. Just remember what I said, alright?"
I heard regret... melancholy? I turned and caught a glimpse of an expression I couldn't read as he passed out of sight. Whatever, he was probably just staring at me as I crawled into the vent. I wouldn't put it past him. For all I know it could have been something he ate; giving a guy that large more additives seemed counterproductive anyway. What was the point of making him bigger?
Enough of that, time to work.
......
I headed to the bridge, my mind a million light-years away. Something about the way I'd said it had set Mouse off, but I was just trying to be sincere.
I was trying to tell her that I'd do right by her; that I'd at least make up for my earlier bad choice.
Maybe it was how unsure I'd sounded, for a moment there. It wasn't very leader-like and maybe I'd made her think I wasn't really interested? But that was silly; She was my best friend, even if she hated my guts at the moment. You don't just turn a friendship like that off like flicking a power switch; it would be easier if you could. Well, at least i couldn't; I had no idea how Mouse felt, other than angry.
I was tempted to stop by one of the viewing rooms and watch the stars a little. But I was already late, and if I wanted I could do that on the bridge. The view was boring anyway; it never seemed to change. But it was soothing, knowing the stars were out there. Somewhere out there were the aliens who had helped Earth; we hadn't seen them at all. I wonder why that is... surely they know where we are, or at least have some idea.
Jennifer's message to me as I hit the bridge summed it up: "You're an idiot, little brother."
My response was for her to tell me something I didn't know, of course. Like how exactly I had messed everything up in my show of support.
The bridge was silent except for the little boops and beeps and whirring background noises the place made when active. Everyone was looking at me - all four of the normal day crew, plus Seig.
"What?"
"Nothing," Seig said. "All quiet here, nothing to report. How did the meeting go?"
Of course, that was what they were staring for. "Well, we got a possible resolution to Mouse's problem, but the final decision is up to her. We"ll know soon enough."
Seig wasn't about to let it alone. "What kind of solution?"
"Not my place to say."
Seig gave me a look as if to say 'you can't be that stupid', but it really wasn't my place. "Alright boss. I'm going to go sleep; see you tonight."
"Wait a minute Seig. Join me a minute." I guess it couldn't hurt to tell Seig, after all, it did affect him - his name was on the list.
I didn't bother sitting, this would be quick. Seig followed me in and shut the door.
"As part of her deal, Mouse has a list of people to marry. She marries, has a child, and Oddball will undo the surgery."
"Damn, that's...." Seig interrupted.
"And I'm telling you because your name is on the list. If Mouse decides to go through with it, she may come to you, and if she does you'll need to agree to let her go back under the knife once her time is up as part of the deal."
Seig's eyes grew wide and he sputtered a bit before finding his voice. "That entire deal is kind of crazy, boss."
"Tell me about it."
"Is your name on the list too?" Seig asked.
"Yeah, it is."
"What do you think of it?"
"I think Mouse is getting a raw deal again. But it's a better arrangement than before." I didn't think anyone could disagree with that.
"If Mouse says no, you'll support her turning Oddball off, won't you? Us taking our chances?"
That was a loaded question - the type to remind me that Seig wasn't as uncaring as he pretended.
My voice came out strong; more sure than I felt as I replied. "Yes, I will. Oddball shouldn't be making decisions like that."
I couldn't say I was happy about foisting such decisions like who gets screwed over onto the crew either, but I did see the logic in having us used to making snap judgments for the good of us all, so I left that part unsaid. The choice itself was stupid, however; optimal or not, having one of the girls have one more kid was a better prospect than spending all the resources we did, with the blow to morale we had as a payoff for it.
Seig searched my eyes a moment and nodded firmly. "Can't say I'm happy about that idea, but I do understand it. Next time Oddball could be thinking one of us isn't useful, and we'd be voting on who to space."
I was pretty sure the charter and Oddball's programming prevented that, but anything short of that I'd not bet my food ration on. It was enough to get Seig's point across at least.
Seig left with a muttered "bye, good luck" while I was still pondering what to bet on. Good luck with what, I didn't know. Probably surviving Mouse's wrath, again. Not to mention my sister's.
I joined my day crew back on the bridge to add my eyes to those on the lookout for more space rocks. The danger looked to be past, but there could always be more; it was crazy really, we should always be this aware, but this was the first time we watched our screens like those proverbial sighted birds, the hawks.
An hour into this, just as I was getting a bit bored, a call came for me.
"Captain, can you come to hydroponics for a bit?"
Oops, in all the excitement I forgot to tell Lissa about what was going on with the food. But that didn't really warrant a personal visit. "Do you have a problem?"
"I do, actually. It's rather important."
I could hear her concern through the small speaker in my pad. I looked at the bridge crew. "Billy, you're in charge."
"You got it, boss; just leave it to me," she said. "When it rains, it pours, huh?"
Odd expression, considering it was one of the few things we knew about rain. Only ever seen it on video.
"Yes indeed. Try not to hit anything until I get back."
She laughed as the door shut behind me, a joy-filled sound. being female seemed to agree with her. Why couldn't Mouse be that way?
Why was I bitter that Mouse wasn't that way, that she wasn't happy? What did that say about me? Did I really want to know? Considering how the situation made her feel, could I make her happy, if she came to me? Would she even want me to try?
That was silly, of course, she'd want to be happy, right? No one liked being depressed or angry all the time.
It was stupid to think about, really. Mouse would pick me last, if at all. She could hold a grudge forever.
Lissa was waiting for me at the door. "Alright, what's going on?"
She pointed to her pad, set up in the center of a table. On it, Eric was front and center, talking to Mouse. From the looks of it, he was on deck four, which wasn't his assigned post, interfering with repairs. "Why that...."
I was startled out of my invective when soft lips crushed themselves against mine; Lissa all but knocked me over, pressing against me.
Her lips tasted faintly of berries.
I stiffened and she let go, her deep blue eyes boring into me. That look told me I'd disappointed someone else.
"What...?"
She sighed. "Eric made his play - and I just made mine. Looks like we both lose."
What? "Lose? What are you even talking about, other than trying to dock?"
I wanted to say unwarranted advances or assault, but I didn't want to make this worse. Whatever this was, she was already sad enough.
Lissa produced a bottle of something clear but smelled like fuel - right in front of me, while on duty no less - and gulped a good amount of it down before I could wrest it away.
"You're on duty."
She waved me off. "It's fine, it's fine. the plants can take care of themselves, and if they can't, well Milla and Carla have them under control."
Lissa pulled up a portable chair and sank into it. "Did you know the only time our food supplies were ever in danger was when I took my first shift in hydroponics? I was ten at the time and made a perfectly innocent mistake with the water feeds. Mouse came along and chewed me out for it, and reset them for me. I hated her ever since. Absolutely loathed her."
What?
"She was too smart, too good, too beautiful, too perfect. Even as a boy. She was everything I had to work at being, and it was so effortless for her. When Oddball tapped her to become one of us, I didn't vote for her because I knew this day would come."
This was... resentment, bitterness, and jealousy. The kind of feelings that festered among a crew and affected performance. So why had Lissa not taken advantage when she could?
"What day?"
"The day when I lost you to her," she replied, piercing me again with her gaze. "It was already bad enough when she was a he, you two were inseparable.Best buddies, the greatest of friends, only apart to sleep, and sometimes not even then; how was I supposed to compete with that? I knew if Mouse joined us, I'd simply have no chance at all.
She made a clumsy grab at the booze; I held it up, out of reach. she sighed, slumped back in the chair, and continued. Her eyes glistened in the light.
"But I can't actually hate her. Mouse is egotistical, barely social, and unsufferably competent. She used to hold all my mistakes against me. But it was all for good reason, and she is...genuine. The type of human we should all be. The only thing I have on her is size. She didn't even try to steal you away, you know? She was just herself."
It took a moment to find my voice; my throat was clenched tight. "Yeah, I know."
Lissa snorted a messy laugh, her nose running. "It's a bunch of fertilizer, you know? I don't even have the words. I'm not bad, either, I'm just not her."
I handed her my handkerchief. "I know. I feel the same way, from time to time."
She took the cloth and honked into it. "Thanks.You know what she told me? The nicest thing she ever said to me was when I beat her at tennis: 'nice game, I'll beat you next week.' And she will, too, I don't doubt it. Maybe it's just current events, how the crew and Oddball screwed her over, but I can't even hate her."
She honked again, then tried to hand the handkerchief back. I waved her off. "Keep it. I have a few extra."
She sniffled. "That's so like you, Roger."
I wasn't sure what to say to that. "I appreciate you telling me this, but I'm still not sure what you mean by it all."
Lissa burbled another messy laugh. "Come on, you're kidding, right?"
I shook my head.
"Men, I swear. Look, I kissed you as a test. I could tell, your mind was a million light-years away; you felt nothing, and you didn't return it. You're a gentleman Roger, but the only reason you wouldn't try to take advantage is if you were already spoken for. The mind may not know yet, but the heart wants what it wants. And Mouse, damn her, feels the same way. She had you all staked out and didn't even know what she was doing. Call it destiny or whatever you want - but can you really see yourself with anyone else?"
I tried. I really did try. "For the good of the colony...."
"That's crap and you know it," Lissa countered. "You can't.see anyone but Mouse. Not Marion, Not Claire, not even Carla or Billy. She stole you from us, and if it wasn't for the true horror of Oddball doing it, I'd hate her forever. Most of us would."
She held out her hand for the bottle. "But that's neither here nor there. You don't need to worry, Mouse will come to you soon enough. Tonight or maybe tomorrow at the latest. And when she does, you'll accept."
I gave her the bottle back; she took it gratefully. "Go ahead, but Milla is in charge for the day, alright?"
She gave me a sloppy salute. "Already did that. I'm going to miss our workout period as well; I don't feel much like exercising right now."
I could see that. "I imagine not."
She waved me off and downed a good portion of the rest of her stash. "Go on, I'll be fine. See you around."
Her dismissal held a note of finality to it - and buried hurt.
"Yes, I'll see you tomorrow." I doubted I'd be seeing her at lunch either.
The door shut behind me, and I heard the lock engage. I made my way back up to the bridge, and to my own stash.
......
I didn't feel like running around while getting stared at and whispered about, so exercise period was skipped. I sent a message to Oddball about it and he gave me a pass, so long as I showed up tomorrow. Keeping muscles toned and bones strong wasn't something you could skimp on, even with more than normal supplements.
Instead, I just worked through it, replacing filters and checking scrubbers. Exercise enough, really, and with less of an audience.
I couldn't ignore lunch, however, no matter how much I may have wanted to.
The cafeteria was packed, and silent the moment I stepped foot near the door. Every head was turned my way as I cursed my lack of cooking ability.
"Marion, one of those noodle things, please."
"Sure thing, Mouse." Marion set to work while I got descended upon.
Claire was the first to reach me, and she hesitated, wringing her hands.
"What is it, Claire?"
With that prompt, she blurted out in a hurry: "Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"That you... have to marry?"
Well, that escalated quickly. "I don't have to marry, it's a choice. A choice I'm not sure I'm making."
She gave me a once-over, clearly wondering how I had some kind of choice now. The rest of the crew didn't. "A choice how?"
I was already sick of explaining it. "I do the normal thing for a female of the crew, marry up and have children, and Oddball allows the surgery to make me male again. Or I don't and try... alternatives."
Oddball had many cameras and microphones in the cafeteria, it was best not to forget that.
Claire's eyes widened briefly, which was odd considering she already knew at least a little of our plan B.
"Sorry, guess I just wasn't thinking ahead that far. The idea of you with kids is...."
"Yeah tell me about it. But it's duty after all, and one we all share," I just wasn't really looking forward to it, especially with all the body problems I'd be facing on this side of the fence. "Speaking of, Marion I got an answer from Oddball on the food additive thing."
"Food additive thing?" Claire asked.
"There are additives in our food right now. Nothing dangerous, but we were trying to figure out how they got there." Marion informed her.
Claire's eyes widened again. "What? but...."
I waved her off. "It's solved. Oddball did it, in order to ease the crew into its new duties. Specifically the ones regarding childbirth. He wants us all to be in peak physical condition."
"Yeah for when we're laying on our backs doing nothing but eating and watching our stomachs expand," Claire said sourly.
I shrugged. "It's something that has to happen."
Claire sighed. "I know, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon. I thought we'd have at least another year, at least. You know, settle in, do our thing, then settle down."
My mom and Dad had me last of all the current crew, and they were still young enough for more. "I know, but the sooner the better. At least for the colony we'll all be making."
That was the whole point behind the cryo in the first place; my grandparents were still in their thirties at least according to telomere aging, and my parents were just shy of that. our population would all be viable; there would be no retirement at the colony for some time. And my children would probably be as old as me when we thawed. If the trip took that long, my grandkids would be too.
It was doubtful though, we were on pace to have our kids settle the planet that was to be our new home and thaw us out.
Marion left while Claire picked at her food. I noticed a few people leaning our direction; including some friends of mine.
They weren't being all that subtle. "Seth, Joe, what's up? Do you need something?"
"Nah," Seth denied. "I was just wondering about the rest of it. Rumor is you have a small list of guys you can marry, as part of that deal."
"That's true. And before you ask, no, neither you or Joe are on it."
"Ouch," Seth exclaimed loudly, clutching his chest. "You wound me, Mouse. Are you saying I'm not good enough?"
Really? Why had I liked Seth again? "No, I'm not saying anything. Oddball is."
"She's got you there," Joe told his friend, a small smile on his face.
"So who is? On the list, I mean."
I could feel the collective people in the room's attention; the collective inhale as they all took a breath and leaned in closer to listen.
"Five guys are on the list, that's who. five guys who have to agree that I go back to being a guy myself at the end of things."
I heard the onrush of breath, the collective exhale, so I didn't just imagine it before. Seth's face fell a bit. "Yeah? Oddball said it would approve another surgery?"
I nodded. "After children. And yes, that could mean abstinence for me and whoever I pick. Still want to be on the list?"
Joe backtracked for both of them. "He never said he wanted to be on the list... just asked you who was on it. If you don't want to answer, just say so."
Fair enough. "It's private and I don't want to answer."
"Okay. Did Oddball give you a timeframe to answer?"
"Nah, I can take as long as I need, theoretically." People were going to pair up quick, now that all the recent excitement was over, I had no doubt. Some of the stuff Oddball was pushing us to take in our supplies would increase sex drives. If any of my five paired up, that naturally made my choices fewer.
Whatever, I only needed one. Just one guy who would wait for me and Eric had already volunteered if it came to that.
"Here you go Mouse, your noodle stuff."
I dug in, to the envy of those around me. Screw them anyway; maybe I'd share later, maybe I wouldn't.
Hm, there were a few people missing lunch - or maybe they were eating in their quarters or something. Speaking of Eric, he wasn't here, and neither was Lissa. Carla wasn't here.
Roger wasn't here. Probably too busy up on the bridge; it would be just like him to forget the time.
"Slow down Mouse, jeez!"
I didn't want to be here, getting stared at. "Those scrubbers on four aren't going to fix themselves, Claire."
"You're going to choke," She told me.
I slowed down just a bit.
"Alright, so why are you being so nice to me!?!" Claire blurted suddenly.
So that was what was really bothering her. "What good would treating you badly do? No, I haven't actually forgotten, and no I haven't actually forgiven. But we have to be a crew, which means we have to work together. So I can at least be civil, the same as I will be for everyone else."
I finished up, drank my water, and got out of there while Claire stared at me, her mouth open.
Oddball had been very smart. By offering an alternative, he had split the crew; there were at least a few of us now to which an open mutiny no longer appealed. Not so long as I had an alternative, no matter how distasteful it was. I was only one person, after all, and not even that well liked; people would weigh that against the survival of our species just like they had on day one. The preferential food and clothes might even have been a part of that too. Offering me a choice was brilliant - and it put the entire thing on me. If I decided to mutiny, well then I was the one being bad, not Oddball. I might only have support from as little as half the crew now at most.
If I hadn't told people myself, no doubt he would have let slip the details as a way to stop his own disabling.
Whatever, I had scrubbers to fix.
She was running out; her bottle full of nothing but little drops now, and the room was spinning with more than just the help from artificial gravity ship rotation. When the door chimed she tried to get up and failed.
The door chimed again. "It's open, you idiot!"
Eric came in, hitting the door control as soon as his bulk was across the threshold. He had her salvation in his other hand. "I wanted to make sure I had the right store room. How are you doing, Lissa?"
Lissa snorted. "Rejected. He didn't even realize. You?"
Eric smiled a sad smile. "She might have considered me for all of two seconds; at least she had the grace not to lie to me, or try to let me down easy. Those two only have eyes for each other."
Lissa finally succeeded in grasping the right bottle; Eric let it go and she hoisted it. "To being alone."
He waited until she drank and passed the bottle before echoing the sentiment. "To being alone."
After he drank he shook the bottle experimentally. "You know, we're going to need more than this. You should have told me. Was this why you messaged me? To be your booze gopher?"
"And if it was?" Lissa asked.
Eric shrugged. "I didn't really feel like doing anything else, and Oddball can do my work in its sleep."
"Well it wasn't." Lissa assured him. "We're here and alone. But what if we're alone... together?"
Eric took a pull from the bottle and passed it over. "I'm listening."
Lissa drank. "It doesn't have to be about love. But you and I, we're two of a kind really. We're both kinda jerks, and we could get along. According to our psych profiles at least. It doesn't cost us anything to try and make it work, at least."
"And if Roger and Mouse break up...."
Lissa's face blanked. "I wouldn't count on that. But if it happens we can take things from there."
Eric took another pull from the bottle, and Lissa mourned the loss.
"So what do you think?" she prompted.
Eric stood up with another smile, a genuine smile: "I think we'll need more booze. you know, to properly cement this partnership."
Lissa smiled and sank back down onto her blanket as the door closed.
"Bring two this time!" she called as the door closed.
......Roger.
What did I want? Lissa all but throwing herself at me forced me to ask. No, Lissa actually did throw herself at me, just like in those cheesy old films we used to watch and suffer through as kids.
I knew I wanted kids. But given a choice between having kids with Mouse or Lissa, I knew. I wanted kids with Mouse. I wanted to be with Mouse, the way she was now; even having her so angry she could spit at me was preferable to having old, male Mouse. Female Mouse was... far more interesting, somehow. That hurt to admit, even to myself.
Was Lissa right? Did Mouse feel the same about me, even a little? If I walked up to her now, what would she say?
What could I say? Was saying anything even the right thing to do?
No, this was stupid. Second guessing any of this was stupid. Whatever happened was up to Mouse; I just had to focus on my job and make any hard decisions involving flying the ship and taking care of the crew.
"Seig, any hard decisions involving flying the ship or taking care of the crew come up while I was gone?"
"Not a single one, Captain sir," Seig replied, getting up and letting me settle in the Captain's chair.
The chair that wasn't worth it. I knew what all those pitying looks from Mouse's Dad were for, now. He knew one of us would get the worst most thankless job on the ship.
"Darn."
"Cheer up, we could always have a catastrophic problem and all die in the next five minutes. You'll get the chance to kill us all any time now."
That was Seig for you. "Thanks. Looking forward to it, in your case."
Seig slapped me on the back somehow, despite the fact that I was sitting down. "That's the spirit!"
I looked up and noticed the rest of the bridge crew all staring at me.
"What?"
They all put their heads back down to their consoles, and actually started working. What that was even about, I had no idea. I wasn't some lab specimen. The temptation to bust them all passed with effort. Mainly because it was really meaningless, and every member of the crew knew it. I settled in and tried my best to look stern.
......Mouse.
With the last filter changed, my job was officially done, and could offer no more distractions.
What could I do? What, in all of space, should I do? My choices had both expanded and thinned in the course of a minute; I could marry for a time and become a man again but the choice of grooms made me ill.
Mostly. Despite his betrayal, Roger was at least a friend. Maybe. He wouldn't push, and wouldn't screw me over again - I'd put the fear of me into him after the first time. Eric wouldn't do it either, I didn't think. Would he?
He was too pushy anyway. I didn't want to risk it.
I was fine with being a hermit afterward, and living alone. Carnal pleasure, as my Mom called it, was overrated. At least I was pretty sure it was; if it was the best thing ever as some media had portrayed, mankind never would have made it into space in the first place - we'd have been too busy.
The other choices just rubbed me wrong; too passive, too... weak? Beneath me at any rate, I was the best catch on this ship, as a boy or a girl. Despite my ego, if one could consider having an ego as big as mine an undesirable thing. I could back mine up, at least.
Roger and Eric had at least offered. And by offered I mean they had managed to say more than two words to me in a single day; I wasn't that scary, people could talk to me. Then again, I was getting far more female attention lately than I ever used to; were the two related somehow?
I should probably learn more psychology; even if trying to figure myself out that way seemed kind of pointless.
No, I'd learn. I needed to know how to win friends and influence people, and if the last few months are any indication, I didn't know nearly enough about it; if I had, I'd be captain, and Roger would be in my shoes. Rogina? Rogeria? Was there a female version of the name Roger?
Was there a female version of my name? I didn't know. It didn't matter anyway, I wouldn't be changing it.
Enough delaying; what was I going to do? I'd already made up my mind, hadn't I? All the crap and manipulations aside, I had, hadn't I?
I needed a second opinion. Normally, I'd ask Claire, but her opinions were suspect, so Marion would have to do. The real issues with that would be getting her alone to ask and not having it spread all over the ship before I could act on the advice after.
No, advice was stupid. It was best just to do it.
I keyed my pad, hitting the right button by memory. "Captain."
"Chief engineer," his voice came back quickly, and he sounded wary, if anything. "Is there a problem?"
"Nothing drastically important, no... but we need to talk. Meet me at forobs one?" Forward observation room one was just under the bridge, and offered the best view of where we were going. It was also the most frequented observation port of the ship, but I needed the reminder for now; if anyone was there, I'd simply chase them out.
"Sure. On my way."
Screw cleaning up for this, or anything else; my dirty uniform and sweaty self was the best he deserved.
I really should have thought my choice of routes through; just striding down the main passage of the ship made it easy for everyone who wanted to gawk. Yes, come see the amazing unwillingly female engineer, and be sure to whisper behind her back so she wonders what you're up to. Bunch of jerks; I couldn't wait until life gave them something new to gossip about.
That would probably happen just before our kids froze us all, and we joined our parents. My luck was that good.
Joe actually started to follow me, of all things. I wasn't even on shift, so if it was business he was after the wrong person.
"Go away, Joe. whatever it is, it can wait."
He stopped, opened his mouth, then shut it and left back in the direction of the cafeteria.
Forward observation one was empty; a large lounge with chairs and couches inset into all the inner surfaces, and all the outer surfaces made of some of the most massive reinforced glass on the ship, laced with some more exotic material to make sure it was as tough as everything else. They also had truly massive shutters that could (and did, just days ago) roll down for emergencies. Those shutters were currently up, and so the view offered was of the stars we were headed towards, still too small without magnification to be beautiful.
Somehow I beat Roger here, which was odd. I had started from engineering, and this was maybe five minutes from the bridge. What was taking him so long?
Whatever; I sank down on my favorite couch with a sigh. Fully healed or not, scrambling around on hands and knees changing filters all day was tiring. The stars floated ever closer, pin pricks of light in a wall of darkness.
"Mouse."
Roger had snuck in while I wasn't looking; the drawback of this place being public and having no door.
"Roger." I greeted. I didn't bother looking at him.
He stayed silent.
"So, did you mean it?"
To his credit he knew what I meant. "Yeah, I meant it."
I turned, his eyes were wide but his face was set the same way as when we'd dealt with the rogue planet. I didn't think I warranted all that; he almost looking like he was going to puke all over the both of us.
"Hey, I don't like the idea any more than you do, but you're the one who betrayed me, so you should take responsibility. As stupid as it sounds, you're the only one I can trust not to betray me again."
His face slipped into shock. "That wasn't what I... look, I said I was willing and I am. I won't betray your trust again."
I believed him; after all, with Oddball offering this as an alternative, he had no reason to. As captain, he had to start keeping his word.
"But I have to ask... are you sure?"
That was fair. "No, not really. But if it's going to happen, I'd rather it be you. At least you're not going to make fun of me or something."
I half expected him to laugh and tell me he would, but he surprised me by stepping up and wrapping me in a hug so gentle I could barely feel it.
"No, never. For what it's worth, I'm sorry again, and I will make amends as long as you want."
"For the rest of your life?"
He didn't hesitate or stutter on the reply. "For the rest of my life."
I stepped back as much as he'd let me (he was still holding on loosely) held a fist out; an old gesture that only Roger and I knew, from an old movie we'd watched. "Friends?"
He bumped my fist with his. "Best friends."
I pulled him down with me to the couch, and dodged him when he almost hit me. "Good, got that out of the way at least."
Roger adjusted himself, getting comfortable. "So, what happens now?"
"Well, I guess we marry."
"Do you want a ceremony?" he asked, just before his pad chimed.
I raised an eyebrow right into Roger's chagrin.
"I have a good reason for it still being on, I promise." He took a look, and called out "Come ahead Marion!"
Marion walked in, wheeling a tray ahead of her. She kept her mouth firmly closed, even when i asked her what she was doing here. Instead Roger answered for her.
"I thought you might be hungry or thirsty - I know i am. So I dropped by the cafeteria and asked her to make something for us for this meeting. She promised not to eavesdrop or say a word while delivering it, too."
"You must have blackmail on her then, for all that." The look of exaggerated hurt on Marion's face was priceless; she really wanted to say something.
"The best. I know who is likely to ask her to marry."
Marion blushed, but didn't say anything. Instead she uncovered the food, an actual feast of things direct from Earth that Oddball had sent me, including more of that macaroni and cheese stuff, as well as a few things I didnt recognize. The drinks were water, some of my mentor's old fuel cleaner, and raspberry tea, an old favorite of mine I thought we were out of.
There was even a candle in the center; a small long white one which Marion lit with great care. Then she winked at me and left.
I snagged the tea and took a drink; it was cold and stronger than I was used to.
Roger went straight for Corbie's product, but stopped with a glance from me and went for the water instead. "So, back to business. Do you want a ceremony? A party?"
Oddball usually handled the party and ceremony set up, though the Captain was the sole marrying authority on the ship. Heh, Roger would be pretty busy soon, come to think of it; I'd heard stories of all the weddings and after parties from my Mom and Dad, they had been a subject of fond reminiscence decades later.
"No, I don't need a ceremony, and you're the Captain; if you say we're married, we are. That's good enough for me."
Roger fumbled with his pockets. "Right, well in that case, I came prepared."
The object he brought out was a small white loop - a ring. Titanium or an alloy of it unless I missed my guess, more valuable on this ship than the more standard gold. It was old and smooth but without signs of wear. Something made from something else, as all things were on this ship. A sign of value. There was no gemstone to get caught up or rip something either, which was a bonus on older rings I'd seen.
It was surreal. I held my hand out, and he gently took it and slipped the ring on my finger; it fit perfectly; a cold hard symbol of our contract with each other. I wanted to take it off, but I didn't dare.
"I'll admit I had some help sizing this." He told me softly.
"I'm afraid I don't have anything for you." I hadn't really been thinking about all this in terms of rings and ceremony.
He waved it off and took a bite of pasta. "Don't worry about it, I had a bit more time today than you. I don't care about it anyway."
Yeah, no. "I'll have one for you by tomorrow and you'll like it."
If I was getting claimed like this, so was he.
"Yes Ma'am," he agreed quickly. "There is just no need to trouble yourself over it. I can wait. I thought you'd appreciate the gesture yourself, is all."
I didn't want to tell him I did appreciate it. "Ma'am huh?"
Roger smirked back at me. "Blame your father for that one."
Yeah politeness was how Dad operated - when he was sure he stepped a foot right in the compost.
"Alright, so what's next?" I knew I was forgetting something.
Roger held up his pad. "Making it official."
Right. He handed his pad over rather than just send it. The marriage license was already filled out on it, My last name was changed on it, as was tradition, and Roger had already signed it with his thumbprint.
Dad would just have to get over the fact that there would be no little Zamirs running around. I pressed my thumb next to my name, sealing the deal. With a ting, the document saved, and a swipe sent a copy to my own pad.
"Well, that's done." Roger was taking a drink of the good stuff; perfect. "Pass that over and strip."
The spit take was caught on film for all posterity, courtesy of my pad.
"Can't we finish eating first?" Roger begged, giving his plate a soulful stare.
"No can do, friend of mine. Not a single hour, not even five minutes longer than I need to. We can eat after, the food will keep just fine. You understand, don't you?"
Roger sighed, but stood up and started unbuckling.
Then of course it was my turn. "Wh - wh - what the heck?!?"
Roger looked up. "What?"
"What the heck man, did you grow more?"
"Well, you know Mouse, when a man sees a hot woman or a reasonable facsimile, such things tend to happen. Surely you haven't forgotten how these things work already?"
"I meant in general, jackass!" he certainly looked bigger since the last time I'd seen him in a locker room. "It's just... deal's off, man. There's no way that thing'll fit!"
Roger stepped forward with a warm, lopsided smile.
It fit.
Fin.
We had dubbed her "the Puppet Master." Her main ability seemed to revolve around taking control of people, manuevering them from the shadows as if they were made of wood and strung to her fingers. She was not subtle enough to hide herself completely, but just subtle enough that the Germans, who normally liked to handle their witch troubles themselves whenever possible, called The Hunt.
And the Hunt of course, called me.
Nagrij
The gate guard was being an asshole. I could sort of understand, since they had actually called us for once - it was like pulling teeth without anesthesia to get any person of authority in the Republic of Germany to call us even if a witch were
setting fire to their hair. Of course in a way, one was.
We had dubbed her "the Puppet Master." Her main ability seemed to revolve around taking control of people, manuevering them from the shadows as if they were made of wood and strung to her fingers. She was not subtle enough to hide herself completely, but just subtle enough that the Germans, who normally liked to handle their witch troubles themselves whenever possible, called The Hunt.
And the Hunt of course, called me.
Which led to the last reason the guard was being an asshole. I looked like a homeless person who'd been dead for a week, and therefore obviously had no money. This was on purpose - it's the little things that make life worth living. The bored looking little roach of a large fat man stared disinterestedly down his often broken nose and bleated again:
"If you've got no money and no trade goods then shove off! This gate is closed to beggars."
Another look around revealed all sorts of people heading through the gate, courtesy of this jackass's partner. Old, young, rich, poor, dirty and clean. All headed through the 12 foot steel gate in the 15 foot granite block wall without a care in the world. I couldn't stop a grin, and cut my attention sharply back to my flabby roadblock. Sure enough, he was stumbling away with a look of horror rising to the fore. He looked like he wanted to scream, piss himself, and pull his sidearm... all at once.
My smiles tend to have that effect, I'm told.
Looks like I had to do damage control... ugh, and so early into the assignment. I pulled out my badge, the symbol of the hunt and flashed it at him, making sure to keep the movement subtle and hidden by his bulk... which was pretty easy all told. His eyes widened and his mouth opened.
"You're...."
Too loud. Way too loud. My hand reached out on it's own, and pulled him closer to me, shirt collar first. This had a further beneficial effect of shutting him up.
"You need to shut up. You blow my cover here and well, let's just say I won't be happy. You've just gotten the bribe you were looking for, and you're happy, right?"
He nodded, clearly terrified now. Hmpf, some guard he was... a plush toy could own this place, the modern town of Vymar.
"Now now, that just won't do. You're happy, it's a large bribe... so smile."
I patted his cheek with my free hand as I put him down. His smile was a weak thing, easily crushed by the glimpse of my weapon he'd caught. I really didn't think it was possible for him to go more pale, but he managed.
"Go right in, sir."
"Thank you good sir! Have a wonderful day!"
Sheesh, act like he'd never seen a pistol before. He was wearing one! I pulled my cloak back around my face, carefully tuning out the sound of ripping as another hole was opened up in the rotted cloth. It couldn't show anything but more of the same, so I wasn't worried; my disguise was foolproof!
"Yo, Sasha."
Damn it.
"Hello, Dusty."
Dustin Silverman was in the same business I was, and a black like me. He was almost as good as I was, too. If almost meant not even close. I'd been promoted from both grey and red before him, I had the better mission success rate... and I was taller by a half inch. Any smoke he could blow about being better than me was just that; smoke. I had to admit he was the type the ladies go for, despite being short; dyed blue hair, a boyish face with just a hint of the masculine in it, compact corded muscle suitable for a gymnast. Or for someone in our line of work. He cut a good figure in his expensive tailored suit. His
weapon, an absolutely lame naginata, was absent.
He wasn't my match in looks of course, but he wasn't my match in anything else, so that was to be expected. He looked a bit angry. He caught my head in the ultimate schoolyard move, the noogie.
"That's Dustin you barbarian. Try to remember."
Oh right, he didn't like to be called dusty... it reminded him he might get dirty. Speaking of which.
"Might want to let me go. You're getting your suit dirty."
He let go so fast I stumbled, darn near falling. I decided to press my advantage.
"So you're my backup?"
It was customary to send a team of 3 to 6 for most witches; though they were single and acted alone, they were usually powerful enough that we needed multiple hunters to ensure a kill. In rare cases two teams were sent. In really rare cases a hunter would meet one of the 25... and multiple teams would be dispatched. Usually multiple teams led by whites. The top 25 were the most wanted of the witch world for good reason. Cities had a tendency to die around them. Sometimes countries.
"Yes, I'm your backup. It was decided that you tend to be a bit too... straightforward to tackle the puppet master alone."
"What? That's bullshit. I can get her no problem."
He sighed.
"I'm sure you can Sasha, but without announcing your presence? Without mass property damage?"
Urk.
"Um, sure! I got this."
"Well just in case, my team is staying at the Hilton. Call if you need us."
Sure, right. If I knew Dustin, he'd be making his own investigation. He would want to get the collar (and the sizable bounty)before us, the cheap bastard. Oh well, I could always call if I needed like he asked, or ignore it and say the portable cb's couple mile range wasn't enough. Or claim it was broken, whatever.
Communications was crap for everyone anyway; Hunters had the best gear, just old school CB's with a few repeater stations. Everything else - satellites, radio towers, heck even roadways with cars and trucks - were all targets of the witches. Oddly enough they left steam trains alone, as long as they burned wood. At least for the most part; you never could tell with an angry witch.
Which was why I had to walk in, the Hunt had it's own train lines, but not to here...and regular train tickets were expensive. the price one had to pay for a regiment of soldiers and a squad of Hunters to gaurd the train in the first place. What I wanted to see though, was a plane. the ability to fly like a bird through the air, and get to places so fast a witch couldn't escape me in time; that would be worth any cost.
I realized Dustin had moved off while I was meditating (that's right, meditating) and I decided to go check in with my team; due to an unforeseen witch hunt in the hilly farms a week away, I'd been delayed from taking this case, and my team were two reds. They were not powerful enough to take on a witch without me; the good news is they were smart enough to know that. With luck they had used their skills to find the witch for me.
I hated the hidey ones worst of all, they were always a pain to find. A straight up fight is best. And of course with a name like 'the puppet master' this one would be one of the hidey ones. The police of this burg had only caught a hint of her trail because one of their districts had a slightly higher death rate with an unusual cause.
It seems that people under her influence act a bit off, and a bit less natural... then their hearts explode in their chests. The current theory is the death is a week after she first takes control. So far in district two (a lower middle class district where her predations seem to be centered) 14 people have died this way. And that was with my last information; it's likely much higher since it's a month later.
So what I was looking for was a young woman (witches were always women, and always young - the process that made them witches halted the aging process) with indulgent habits and a self satisfied sneer. there could be many suspects in this place... Vymar was the epitome of a modern city.
Concrete and impact resistant glass everywhere you looked; precious few wooden buildings (mostly in the poor district) and large reinforced roads to handle the buggies and carts all the vogue in places where people no longer preferred to use their feet. They even had streetlights, and a few buildings over three stories... which was just asking for witch trouble. But then the civvies never do ask our opinion, and the Germans doubly so; they are as addicted to their gadgets as the Japanese were reported to be. Before the nation was destroyed that is.
At least the manufacturing plants (one for steam engines and one for the metal frames of concrete prefab houses) and the textile mill were well protected and as far away from each other as possible. So they weren't completely ignorant of the target they represented. A patrol of four police, armed with the standard pistols were down every street, or stationed
on the corner. Some of those even watched me as I walked nonchalantly along towards the rendevous point.
It was probably my sublime whistling.
In fact, only the 4th street in, it appeared my whistling had picked up an audience. Four of those men in uniform had been following me, and now moved to intercept; I did not object when they grabbed, lifted, and ushered me into a relatively shielded alley away from prying eyes. It was done so fast that a normal person would have no time to object, and nobody from the busy street noticed.
The fourth man, their officer, yanked my hood away quickly. He improved my mood by taking a bit of hair with it, as my hood violently parted ways with the rest of the cloak in an explosion of dust.
"Who are you and what is your business here?"
"Now is that any way to treat a guest to your fair city, Captain?"
He flushed and started fingering his pistol.
"Talk now miss, or face the consequences."
Oh, for fuck's sake. Not twenty minutes in town, and this already. Again. I could imagine Dustin doing cartwheels in my head and cheering, waving a victory flag. I lowered my center of gravity slightly, then drew myself compact while making a tight circle with my body, arms out, clearing them. I wasted no time and drew, sighting both barrels of my antique yet still very functional colt navy revolvers. One in the captains' face so close his eyes crossed, the other to crony number 1.
"First off, you're an idiot. I'm a guy, you jackass. Second off, I'm the last one you want to be pissing off right now."
The captain drew back far enough to actually see the guns and paled.
"...The maniacal marksman!"
And of course he goes from blind to cowardly, like his guard buddy at the gate. All us Hunters had nicknames, given to us by a grateful populace. For example, Dustins' was 'the heavenly flow' because his naginata, once plugged into a generator, could generate a gate through which water would flow. Or something, I wasn't too sure on how his stupid weapon worked. I was 'the maniacal marksman' because I used guns.
Very powerful, very explosive guns. And of course, I almost never missed. There was that one time in Morocco... but I was drunk, so that didn't count. That city needed remodeling anyway. The maniacal part was due to my grin and infectious laugh; it really had nothing to do with the property damage and casualties. Those were all caused by the witches.
After all, how dare they resist?
"Oh dear god, I can't believe they sent you; I must warn the town!"
I reached out and snagged him.
"You'll do no such thing. You want to warn the witch that hunters are here? You'll cause as bloodbath."
He stopped and turned woodenly. Then he did something that probably shouldn't have caught me by surprise, but did. He reached out and fondled my right pec.
"Forgive me! I only wanted to make sure. The rumors never described you! I thought you'd be... taller."
I removed my gun from the inside of his nostril and eased the hammer back.
"I have to go meet my team. If anyone asks, you saw me, checked my papers, and I'm a travelling merchant from the north."
"Uh, right. Please carry on sir."
I really can't blame them for being on their toes, but if they are pulling shit like that the witch is going to notice. The real question is have they before today; if so then the witch is either blind or knows we're here. If not, then we have a chance. It was obvious to me that the captain saw a person he thought was suspicious (and female, hurl. I'm not that girly, damn it!) and decided to act on his own. The real question is how many others were jumping the gun, thinking they could find and kill the witch.
And I really couldn't wait till that next growth spurt. I was sure being taller than 5 foot 5 and weighing more than 140 pounds would help this whole mistaken identity thing. this wasn't even close to the first time that I'd been accused of being a witch myself, despite the fact that I was plainly a guy.
I found the rendevous without further annoyance. A small old world style inn that was actually shaped to look like an old pub at the end of the poor district; 'The Rusty Nail'. It was without a doubt the worst hive of scum in the entire city; which of course made it the perfect home away from home.
"Yo Norre, you're late."
"Yo Ivan. Had to make a little side trip is all."
Ivan was a big tall russian bear of a man, and an old special forces hand. His specialty was knives - big almost sword ones. He also wore enough throwing knives to act as a makeshift anchor for a ship. All his cutlery could be charged by his generator of course, making him a deadly close and mid range fighter to any witch. He was dressed a bit better than I was, with leather being predominant.
Hey cured animal hides were better than rotting burlap any day, but I had a statement to make!
He followed me to the bar, and stood behind me while I got the bartender's attention.
"Beer me; something domestic."
The bartender did not argue. He knew I was young, but that carding thing went out of style about the time everyone started dying; nobody worries about that crap now. Or if they do, Ivan is always there to back me.
"Table in the far corner, watching both the exits."
I followed Ivan's directions (always a good idea to sit where you can see the entrances/exits) and found Alicia there. She immediately frowned. Three mugs in front of her... she was mellow; that meant I had a chance to avoid a scene.
"You're late, ass."
"I had something to do."
"Something, or someone?"
She leered back. OK, a bit more than mellow, she was downright tipsy. I took a look at my beer, which turned out to be darker than black. Minor mystery solved there.
"In a manner of speaking, both. Don't worry, you'll get your cut - if you keep your mouth shut."
After all, if she talks I could get suspended, since I already had a job; but if the higher ups think that I ordered them ahead to take care of this witch while I killed the other... well they'd still be pissed, considering they thought the 'puppet master' was dangerous, and didn't know about the other one. Hmm, I did not think this one out very well.
"Well goody for me."
Alicia replied, promptly thumping her head on the table. I checked my beer again while waiting for her to revive. She didnt. Alicia was the type of woman you right home about... if you write horror novels. She was tall and in shape, and that was the best that could be said about her.
Her shape was mostly an inverted triangle, and she weighed almost as much as Ivan. I suspected she had to shave every morning, and I don't mean her legs, which were more hairy than some bears I'd met. It was however, a given that she could walk from one end of the town to the other and not be accused of witchery. Even worse, she used whips and wore form fitting leather.
I turned to Ivan.
"Sop then?"
He nodded. Sop was standard operating procedure; also known as 'let the annoying woman drink herself stupid any time it's feasible'; just fewer problems that way. It seemed to have worked this time as well, since the bar was still standing. I took a sip. The beer was as potent as I thought it would be, a direct hammer to the tongue.
"So tell em what happened."
"Well Ivan, there I am, walking along and minding my own business just walking down the road, when a witch comes out of the farmhouse next to me with blood all over her. Of course I had my uniform on, and she's got her stupid hat and a stupid wand in her hand, and we stare at each other for a minute before she starts to fly away."
He's nodding.
"So of course I blast her and hit her wand, and she drops like a stone and breaks a leg. then her stupid familiar, a mud man of all things, flows up and grabs her, and they both start running again. Only even with the broken leg, her and the mud guy prove to be fast, so I end up spending three days chasing the bitch till she can't keep her familiar summoned anymore. One in the head, one in the heart, I grab her hat and here I am, just slightly late."
"And the farmers?"
I took a long draught, reveling in the cool feel of the beer flowing down my parched throat.
"God only knows what drew the witch to 'em, but she got them all. Kids were in a pretty standard hiding spot -the cellar- and she got them too, just before I arrived it looked like. The bodies didn't have time to cool."
Ivan knew I'd checked before giving chase. He would have too, even though we both know better. On that score, Alicia was one up on us. She never checked.
"So now one more hat registered in your generator eh?"
"Yep, and since we're a team, you both get cuts."
Teams get split up all the time, and reassigned. Something to do with traveling speeds and locations, etcetera. Ivan and Alicia would both get a third of the money, and the energy from the hat itself - the witches power conduit. It always amused
me that we used the witches' own powers to defeat them, through the generators and their linked weapons. Of course when you took a hat from a witch she became... docile. Destroy the hat, by weapon or generator, and the witch died.
"So how was she, this farm witch?"
"Feh, she was weak as all hell. She paniced right off and ran from the first. Her sole offensive ability seemed to be the ability to shoot pink hearts from her wand; they couldn't even stand up to a standard generator fueled load out from the Colts. Made me sick to look at her after the first day. I think even Alicia could have taken her alone."
"Then her hat will give us little energy."
The problem with having weapons that run on the energy of a witches hat is that the hat eventually runs out of energy. After all, a dead witch isn't alive to power the hat. Some teams have died in the field because they didn't gauge their energy consumption. Of course, the highly successful teams have energy to burn.
"It's OK man, we got more than enough; I was just adding to the pile. We can link genny's later. we drink now. And maybe food."
With an upraised arm, he called a barmaid over. That's what I liked about him, he never argued. Well, not about food at least. The barmaid was a blonde, fairly pretty as barmaids go, and taller than I was.
"Yes? What can I get you both?"
I held up my somehow empty mug.
"Another one of these and whatever you have in the kitchen."
She came back with two full mugs and one plate full of sausages, fried potatoes, and an apology.
"I'm afraid this is all that's left from the lunch rush, and dinner isn't ready yet."
"It's fine."
I replied with my mouth wrapped around a sausage. She blushed and stammered her thanks, then stumbled off. Weird, wonder what her problem is? I checked - guns were still hidden. Meh, whatever. I looked over to a rare sight; Ivan was showing me all his teeth. Well I knew how to stop that.
"The locals are getting antsy. One of their patrols stopped and escorted me into an alley in broad daylight."
He pondered.
"Well, you ARE a good 4 days late."
"It's a dangerous world, they should be used to people being late in it."
"My friend, these are Germans. They go crazy if their trains are a minute late. Having someone like you running loose in their country, and not being where he's supposed to be... to them that's as bad as a witch. but to answer your first question; no, I've not seen or heard of anything like that here before, in the weeks I've been here."
This was the acid test; I tried to keep the hope out of my voice.
"Any idea where she is?"
He shook his head a trifle sadly. Damn it again.
"Just that shes in this district. She can't have very good range, as she's leaving the local government alone. She can't be able to keep very many under her spell I think; Perhaps as many as 4 at a time. I base this on how the bodies have been found. Usually in small groups at once, and 4 was the largest one of those."
Hmm, she sounded weak now that I was here. I kind of hoped that wasn't the case. But then, even now we'd need to find her before she found us. If she caught us first we'd be her puppets for a week, then dead. Ugh, I hate all this thinking crap! Ivan interrupted with great timing; after all I don't think running out and shouting to her to 'come on out' would work.
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"You're done eating, aren't you?"
I looked at my empty plate. Not even grease marred it.
"Yes."
"You need sleep, don't you?"
He passed me a room key. Good old number 3.
"Yes, that's part of the plan, what of it?"
"Well you've had two of those beers... "
He pointed at Alicia.
"...3 put her down. And you're a bit of a lightweight. so would you help me get her upstairs before the alcohol hits and you pass out, please?"
I gave him my best 'I'll melt your head off' stare. He remained unphased, so I shrugged.
"Sure. Let's go."
(tbc)
I still wasn't happy about Ivan calling me a lightweight, but I couldn't deny that I barely made it to the bed before my head swam. At least, to myself - if Ivan or Alicia asks, I've been up the entire time. So what if I arrived at around 4pm, and it's now morning? I was involved in gun maintenence and a heavy duty planning session; I make all the best plans we use by myself anyway. I was pretty sure most of that was the walking three days straight with no sleep and little food.
I swapped out one set of clothes that had gone well beyond simply seeing better days for another set. It didn't really matter they were all alike, and all a disguise. I had yet to take a bath, so I just sponged the worst crap off with some water. I'd no sooner got my shirt on then the door threatened to split from the pounding.
"Come on, pipsqueek! It's morning, time to go to work!"
"Go sit on a railroad spike! I'll be right down!"
Honestly, doesn't she have better things to do than wake everyone up?
She kept blithely pounding on the door so I timed her blows and opened it right in mid pound. She fell in of course, grumbling. Then she looked at my still wet face and did that stare thing she does sometimes.
"What?!? It's too early for this crap Al."
Then she said something I had a hard time catching; in fact, I was sure I hadn't caught it right.
"It's just not fair that a boy should be so much cuter than me."
Alright, time for a nice, polite discussion. With her backed up against the wall that way I couldn't possibly misunderstand her; my ears werepretty good normally, it was just early. And since she has the attention span of a humming bird, the gun up her nose was one hundred percent necessary.
"I'm sorry, I must have misheard you; what did you say?"
"Um, I said 'it's not fair that toys should be so cool!'"
She held out a motorized toy; some sort of robot that made noises and shot sparks when she turned it on.
"Hmm, you're right, that thing is clearly better than what we had as kids. Freaking Germans and their technical genius."
I did not miss her sigh of relief, but once again I took my gun from a nostril. Come to think of it....
"Hmm, that's the second nose in as many days you've been up, Joe. I really should clean you, you could have a nasty sort of disease."
Alicia turned green and hit the bathroom door so fast I'd have swore she broke it. I widened the grin I'd been sporting. Wake me up and insult me, will she....
"If you two are quite through, it's morning and we need to start."
I waved to Ivan and pushed past all the irate people in the inn that wanted to talk about Alicia's behaviour, taking care to hide my generator. While many people owned guns nowadays, generators were always custom made, attuned to the hunter that wore them, and the only portable device capable of tapping into the power a witch normally commanded. Of course it did it by stealing it from a witch's hat, but that was a minor detail.
And if a bunch of people wanted to beat Alicia's loud ass into the dirt for waking them up, who was I to interfere? She'd brought it on herself. The loud clops of Ivan's boots assured me he didn't much care for her antics either. at the foot of the stairs I saw a flash of a dress, and snagged the barmaid without looking at her. I was trying to hide my grin, like Silas wanted me to.
I was trying to be good; I was!
That still didn't stop the full body shudder the performed when she looked at me; I wasn't sure she could see my smile, but something set her off. Still, no reason not to try and be civil.
"Coffee, black. Sausage and waffles. Now."
I let he go and she disappeared so fast she left a cloud of dust. Well not really, but she could have. Ivan stared at me.
"Waffles?"
"Well, this close to Belgium territory they have to have Belgium waffles, right?"
His facepalm was as loud as a .22.
***
Alicia managed to join us for breakfast just in time to eat some. Not much mind you, but some. She'd even escaped the wonderful discussion the inn residents wanted to have with her. I'm not sure how she did it, but it probably involved her revealing herself as a hunter; sure it was a violation of our orders, but only fools attacked a hunter. Well fools and witches, basically the same thing really.
As long as I didn't hear her do it, I didn't really care. And for all I know, she didn't really let the cat out of the bag. Of course that didn't stop me from eating her waffles before she came down. She could stand to lose a few kilos anyway. Ivan interrupted the glare fest.
"So, how do we find the witch? Al and I have been looking for a week, but we have no leads at all."
Typical.
"Sheesh you guys suck at investigations."
"We do not, you little runt!"
"hunterwhowantsaguninhernosesayswhat?"
"What?!?"
Too easy.
"Oh gross, not again!"
The force of her run almost pulled my Colt from my hands; she was managing some respectable speed there. I ignored the sounds coming from the womens' bathroom. The retching especially took quite a bit of ignoring.
"Hmm, I think I know how to find the witch."
Ivan shook his head as his ready smile slipped.
"Let me guess; announce that we are here and challenge the witch to come out?"
"Yeah! Just like that time in Abved! It worked great with that head exploder witch."
"You mean the town that was leveled when we fought in it? Come on Sasha, we need to make money here, not pay for damage till we're grey! Put a little more effort into planning, eh?"
"Hey, we're in the black, aren't we? Especially after that job in the ruins of Paris. That payout was so much money we could swim in it; good times."
"We are barely in the black. After Paris came Dussledorf. Then Morocco. Then Belize. Then...."
Sheesh, how long was he going to hold a grudge?
"Hey hey hey! Some of those were profitable."
"Some of those could have been enough for me to retire, if we'd had a plan."
I waved that thought away.
"Pshaw! You wouldn't retire, you enjoy it as much as I do. But, I'll see what I can do. For now I guess we just walk around and keep our eyes open."
Maybe that would give me time to come up with a plan; after all, it's not like I knew what the witch was after. without knowing what her objective was there was precious little we could do but look around for egomanical women with hats on. More than one witch had been found in this tried and true method... usually after a few innocent women were singled out first.
For some reason, hats weren't the fashion accessory they used to be among young women.
Ivan wasn't convinced. Alicia nodded agreement as she sat back down, face scrubbed red.
"Alicia and I have been doing that for weeks, and we haven't seen anyone suspicious."
"That's because you haven't had me looking with you; you know how good I am at spotting scum."
It was true too, through a mix of observational skills and luck, I was one of the best for spotting a witch. Hell, twice I even spotted witches before they had fully emerged.
Emergence was the event that made a witch; somehow, in some way, some women just spontaneously started to form a hat. Those were uniformly from 12 to 22 in age. No emergence past age 22 has ever been recorded. Early witches were just like normal folks to start, according to those records that survived. The only difference was they had some sort of hat, and could do miraculous things. But of course that wasn't all.
The earliest witches started hearing voices. Worse yet, they started listening. Things turned ugly, and cities, regions, entire countries fell to the relentless onslaught. Every woman who turned witch turned murderous; it was only a matter of time. Some hung on for days, fewer held on for weeks. My mother held on for 3 months. She abandoned us before she killed us, a decision I could somewhat respect. My younger sister didnt even hold out 3 hours, killing my father and burying me under the rubble of the family home.
I would one day catch up to her and return the favor.
At any rate, once the hat formed their aging either stopped or slowed down, and they gained the services of what they called a servitor or familiar. We called it a demon of course, and it protected the witch, and tutored her in the use of her powers. The stronger the witch, the stronger her servitor - they were unmistakeably linked to her powers somehow. My personal theory was one most hunters shared; that the familiar was the source of the voices, leading the witch down the garden path of evil. I had seen some truly epicly weird familiars in my time; giant robots, wisps of smoke, a ball of electricity... then they got REALLY weird.
"Are you even listening anymore?" Alicia asked me.
"Huh? No. Why, did you say something important?"
"I swear... Ivan, make him listen will you?"
I turned expectantly to Ivan.
"I said, just following your nose isn't a good plan either."
I shook my head.
"You two need to relax! I got it covered."
They tensed instead, almost like they didnt trust me. I'm taking a bit of fence, now. Here I am, having led these two into more hunts and scrapes then I care to remember, and they are acting like I can't be trusted! Rat-bastards.
"Seriously, I've been thinking it over, and we don't need to do anything."
The light from the windows dimmed as a cloud passed over the sun. Ivan shivered, and Alicia looked lost. It was a good look for her, it made her beard stop bristling.
"What do you mean?" Well at least Ivan was on the ball.
"Well it's simple... ahh, guess it'll have to wait; our reinforcements have arrived."
"Wait, what? We called in reinforcements?"
"Of course not, but the Gloom apparently ordered them for us. you know how it is with the mental types."
Of course I couldn't tell them what I already knew, at least not yet. Being on a hundred battlefields where witches were involved, I had a flair for this sort of thing. Screaming of my sixth sense aside, this worked out perfectly. Dustin walked in a moment later, immaculately dressed and coiffed, surprising the rest of my little team. Honestly, it was rather angering to have him come in looking like that.
"We have something to discuss."
I leaned back in my chair and popped some gum. I loved gum. The current gum I had was mint, my personal favorite.
"And what's that?"
He took a vaguely incriminating look around then whispered just loud enough for all of us to hear.
"I've found the witch, but I'll need help to take her down."
Looks like Ivan was starting to catch on, judging by that look of calculating surprise. Alicia was still in the dark though. Good, it's almost impossible for her to keep her fool mouth shut.
"Sounds good, sooner we get out of this hole, the sooner we can get back to real civilization. Lead on."
I tapped the 'wait' signal on the table in front of Ivan as I stood up to leave. Alicia didn't notice. There was dense, there was super dense, Then there was Alicia. We all got up, and followed Dustin as he methodically walked outside and took a right. I spotted the rest of his team with ease, spread out amongst the thin morning crowd. Of course they all looked flawless; suited just like Dustin was and without a speck of dirt on them.
Kind of silly, really.
He led us all the way through the district and to the corresponding southern gate. The guards were in their little house, propped up against the wall and fast asleep. Or so it seemed. There were only a few dark stains around them... obviously a result of poor housekeeping. Of course while I caught Ivan loosening up his throwing knives in their sheaths, Alicia just continued to stomp happily away.
There was only one citizen that seemed to take notice of us as we went through the gate - a lady of the evening by her looks. A young one, dressed in a faded and patched but still fine modest red dress that reached her ankles. Small black heels kept her feet from the mud of the road. The dress had cream colored insets at the bodice with few stains, and she carried a small dingy white purse with pearls sewn into designs I did not recognize on it. Her haughty air was detectable from 500 paces, as if she were royalty. She was also up rather early for a lady of the evening.
Then we were through the gate and I didn't bother turning around.
"You know, you made our lives much simpler this morning. We were just discussing how to find you."
Now Alicia gets it, her whips out and cracking. Ivan has his knives in his hands as well and both are looking for targets. The laughter seems disembodied and the gate shuts, trapping us on the outside of the city.
Trapping the witch out here with us.
For a moment I am a bit slack jawed. Of all the arrogant, egotistical.... But that only lasts a moment. Dusty starts things off immediately, pulling his stupid naginata our from behind his coat and taking a swipe at where I was a tenth of a second ago. He caught a hint of my cloak but I could tell his heart really wasn't in it.
After all he didn't scream about wanting to mount my head on his wall or drink wine from my skull once.
His first attack swung wide as I helped it along, pistols now out. It was obvious his movements were being directed, at least in the most general sense. He still attacked with some skill, but he was a puppet being told where to swing. Very disappointing, this would be over in no time at all. I set up a few opportunities to draw the game out, and he did not fail to 'take advantage'. The witch had some idea what to do herself; it meant she was older than the average.
After all, a witch with weeks of experience behind her was far more dangerous than one that just got her hat; and statistics showed that one active past 6 months could get away almost indefinately. Though some argued it could be power as opposed to experience; after all, the more powerful witches lived longer. This one wasn't as powerful as it first seemed... I'd already worked out where she was watching the fight from the gaps in vision she had. She was foolishly right next to the gate, which meant it was finally time to stop screwing around.
I started the maneuver meant to get me in between my dance partner and the invisible witch, and drew. The right Colt was emptied on Dustin, and the left was emptied into that curious spot where the wall was distorting in as broad a pattern as I could make it. Hey, it's ok, Dustin was eating weighted bean bag rounds. And if he couldn't take that, well, he didn't deserve to be a hunter. Or breathe.
I was rewarded by blood splattering the wall (before my shots travelled on and it blew out, they dont make walls like they used to) twice. The witch faded back into view. That was always the problem - witches had protections, simply by being witches. They were tougher, faster and usually stronger. And that was usually before you added the spells they could cast to augment all that. This one however, wasn't much physically. She was saved death so far simply because my rounds went right through her like she was paper.
Luckily enough I'd hit and blown chunks out of both shoulders, and she was rapidly slipping into shock. Alicia was bloody but had managed to subdue Sylvie, a petite thing who really shouldn't be in this business at all but still managed to survive - she used knives too. Ivan had taken on Dutch, a hammer user supposedly from Norway with a suspect accent. Like Dustin they wore fine suits and took great pride in their polished manners. Both were the worse for wear and looking around in confusion. Dustin wasn't though, he was laid out, blood pouring from his nose and mouth.
Perhaps the point blank shot to the face was a tad excessive?
Nah, I needed to make sure he snapped out of it. As I started towards the cause of so much suffering I could see the gratifying fear blossom on her face. She tried to struggle to her feet, but her arms weren't working. I didn't see her familiar anywhere. I squatted down beside her while she tried to push herself away with her legs.
"What's your name?"
She turned back again at the sound of my voice, eyes covering half her face and a veritable river of tears down both cheeks. She worked faster, and I kept up with her. She'd likely bleed out in a matter of minutes, those exit wounds did not look pretty. Still no evidence of a familiar... maybe it had been standing next to her, and I shot it too?
She stopped at the wall, and scooted herself to it. She looked back and up at me, and I smiled. A slight ghost of a smile flitted over her freshly marred but still cute face.
"Cathy."
I signaled Ivan again, out of the witches sight. This was usually where things went dicey.
"Well Cathy, I'm Sasha. You have a choice to make. You can surrender your hat to me, and get treated for your wounds. We will care for you as best we can. Or I can end it for you quickly, and take your hat afterwards."
For some reason witches even reacted to us taking their hats for use after they died... another mystery unsolved. After all, who cares about some item, no matter how powerful, that you owned after you're dead? The effects of a witch surrendering their hats though, that was well known. For some reason the moment a witch's hat left her person, that is, was no longer in contact with skin or within a few feet (depending on some unknown factor) said witch became a half responsive vegetable, with the IQ of a turnip. If a witch's hat was destroyed even that was optimistic. The moment the hat was destroyed, the witch went
into a coma and eventually died.
And of course, we destroyed them slowly in order to power our generators, which gave our weapons the unique abilities they had along with the firepower to actually kill a witch. Before the portable beauties came along, humanity was completely helpless. In some way however, they used the witch's own power. So either way, Cathy's hat would burn, and she would die. Her choice was in how.
Her eyes rolled wildly, like a frightened colt's, but her face betrayed her hope.
"It's in my purse, but I can't...."
"Alright Cathy, I've got it."
I took her bloody purse from around her shoulder as gently as I could; inside was some sort of beret, in a jaunty shade of blue. I made a show of reaching around and opening my genny's top hatch, and stuffing the thing inside. the spark in her eyes went out immediately, showing the standard side effect of a witch being cut off from her hat. Sure, she could be faking, but all my considerable experience said no.
"Alicia, get over here."
She had the best first aid kit of all of us, and Ivan was still watching for any surprises. Though with the hat stowed in a generator, the idea that the familiar was waiting to hit us was laughable - no familiar would willingly let a hat go into a genny. I stopped worrying when Cathy just sat there, drooling, while Alicia patched her up. A few winces from her, but for the most part she simply wasn't home.
I felt kind of sorry for her... she picked the wrong team to control. Perhaps she didn't know Ivan and Alicia were here, or dismissed them as part of a less than successful hunter team because we don't dress the part? Wouldn't be the first to make that mistake. In fact, that mistake might be one we encourage. If not for the lack of surprise involved, I might tell future generations of hunters to encourage it too. But if I do it now, it might hurt the ploy, because word would of course get out somehow.
Oh well, it didn't matter. Cathy would be escorted back to Central, where she would be experimented on. And when she eventually died, she would be dissected, all in the name of science and greater understanding of our enemy.
(tbc)
Finally, after the most boring of train rides and a fair amount of hiking, I was back in central. It felt good to be back. The only dampener to my spirits was I still had one idiot free from her village, and following me. I couldn't even send her off on any side excursions; the boss wanted to see all of us. At least this was more of a business meeting or check in.
After all, he hadn't sent an armed escort, like last time. I was almost insulted.
Or I would be if the thought of Gloom being mad at me was more scary than all of the 20, combined. With a few extra random
witches thrown in. Like maybe the one that exploded heads. But no escort, and no official summons... just us back in central to show that we were still alive and witch influence free. I strode in towards the lobby desk like I owned the place (cause I do, unless you ask Gloom, then I deny it!) and may have invaded Sarah's personal space a little bit. Her long suffering sigh was obviously meant for the gorilla thing behind me, and not my brilliant self.
"Morning, Sarah!"
She ran a dainty hand through her golden hair and straightened her uniform (a blue one piece dress that somehow looked
better on her than anyone else).
"It's after 3, Sasha."
"...your point?"
She sighed again and gave me a smile.
"Nothing, no point. Welcome back Sasha, Ivan, Alicia. How did Germany go?"
"Disappointing, actually. The witch focused on idiots which allowed us to get the drop on her; no real fight this time."
Yes of course those idiots were behind me, escorting my witch. I wanted them to hear that, and they did. Of course they did not quite agree with my assessment.
"You little shit! No fight!?! I almost killed your weak ass!"
"Who are you calling little, pipsqueek? I'm taller than you are! And you couldn't kill a germ with bleach!"
I fired back without even looking at him; my attention was on the witch. Through the mental fog and drool I thought I could detect a vague sense of chagrin, for lack of a better word. I crossed the distance to her and waited for her eyes to lazily focus on me, signaling the retrieval unit on duty. This one was led by Francis, and so was half competent; they were already crossing the distance.
"Last gamble didn't work out; tough break."
Fright flickered into being now, she knew what that meant. Her whisper was expected.
"Please just kill me now."
"Sorry, no can do. If I were to try that now I'd be stopped. You made that choice a month ago."
As she was pulled away I nodded to Francis but caught Sarah frowning out of the corner of my eye. Frowning at me?
"What?"
"Nothing Sasha. So, how do I enter this? Two teams, class A capture?"
Witch hunting was separated into classes to make it easier to categorize, and to give bureaucrats jobs. Though if they all
looked like Sarah I wouldn't mind it so much. There was class C (brand new witch, like the one I hunted down before that was
no real threat to a hunter). Class B, which were mainly the target of the reds (new hunters, or recruits, the lowest rung of
combat arm.) and class A, the targets of the blacks (my own arm, experienced and deadly assassins of the supernatural, usually
with years of experience.)
Then of course there were the S's. Class S threats should only be handled by the whites, our bosses. Witch hunters so experienced they were actually greying, and whose nick names were all they were referred to by anymore. Like my boss, the gloom.
But in this case, a class A capture meant one class A witch, hunted, and captured as opposed to killed; more pay involved in a capture, because sometimes the witches would try to free their own, if only to have the captured witch owe their benefactor a
favor. That was the gamble the witch had lost; not even a class S would try to free a witch once they were in central; it was
suicide.
"Hah! As if. One team, class A capture; one team, useless as... well as useless as a useless thing!"
He and his team didn't do anything but get caught, so they shouldn't get any money for it. And we definately shouldn't have to
split with them. This ain't a charity!
The room darkened. From down the mount we heard clearly:
"Two teams, class A, Sasha's team, two class C's."
I tried to hold in the scowl. The Gloom had spoken. Though I did wonder how he knew about that second class C in the Crimea...
he always seemed to know, and that was pretty off-putting. I had to find out how some day. And beat him. Definitely beat him.
Oh well, at least the two class C's should make up for it. I wouldn't even object that I killed both solo; I didn't have a death wish, contrary to popular rumor.
But one day, oh yes, one day....
Fingers were snapped in front of my face.
"You alright boss? You got that gleam in your eye. I'd hate to have to squeegee you off the Gloom's walls again."
I looked down my nose at Ivan, which was hard to do since he was a full head taller than me; I almost fell over trying it, but managed.
"Perfectly fine my good man, now that the hard part is over, let's go get some drinks."
And maybe find some entertainment we wouldn't have to pay for. Like maybe Dustin, my fists, and a dark alley. Once again the voice from on high interrupted.
"Sasha. Don't forget to check your generator."
Right, right. When in central we were required to check in our generators and get them inspected to make sure they weren't going to die when out in the field. That and hunters with generators getting rowdy tended to be a minor issue. I had a habit of 'forgetting'. The Gloom wasn't going to let that pass this time, I supposed.
Could he really still hold a grudge over that club?!? I mean sure it was his favorite, but it had obviously lagged far behind in keeping up with the city's fire codes! I was not to blame for that, I had been absolved! ...Well, mostly absolved. It's not like anyone died or anything.
Oh well, I knew when I wasn't wanted. It meant we had to go into the dungeon. Our lab away from lab. Or something. I hated the place really... it was where all the crazies hung out. The large bank vault door with the bio-metric lock was kind fo a dead giveaway. My hand an eye both scanned, I waited impatiently while my team and the other team that should not be named lest their naming cause them to appear also scanned in; the vault would not open until everyone near it was scanned.
The process took five minutes, 39 seconds... which might as well have been an hour. But at least the pop out grenade launchers weren't activated, which meant we were all still employed. The corridor beyond was pitch black and sloped downward; The torches were out today. I entered without fear. Or visible fear anyway. Never let our science staff see you sweat... they will take a sample, then demand blood.
No one was brave enough to find out what they asked for if you gave them blood.
But that was the price of being humanity's savior; trudging through the pitch black corridors where the mad science was conducted. Everyone sort of tightened up their formation; Alice was almost on my back, and strangely enough Dustin wasn't that far either, for all the studied aloofness he showed.
That was just silly. You couldn't show fear; they smelled it. They were like sharks or dogs that way.
Unfortunately they were awake and paying attention, too. Including the chief whack-job, one Emil Saums. A man in his mid 40's that was perhaps more stitched together than Frankenstien's monster, and yet, had only the slightest of scars from it. He also had sharp, filed teeth and a laid back demeanor that somehow put me on edge... and frankly terrified everyone else.
There was also the scandalous rumor that he was my father, something about us acting alike. Pure bull. But I didn't need to respond to those rumors, because somehow anyone who spoke them ended up sick. The last case was a case of explosive diarrhea, 3 years ago. It had lasted over 2 weeks. Not too many spoke up after that, and nothing was ever proven.
No it wasn't me; I'd have just shot them and forgotten it. It wasn't in my nature to hold a grudge.
In any case, he was hunched over the bin, picking out generators to process; that was the other reason people didn't like him, he was the one who checked (or fondled) our sources of power. Who knows what kind of things he did to them. From the looks of things he was running out; only 3 generators were in the bin for servicing. I didn't recognize any of them.
Other people disliked that he was a noted expert on the field of witch biology and of how their powers worked. He led the experiments on witches after all. And the rumor mill had those experiments ranging from the innocous... to ones that would be considered war crimes in other ages. I didn't believe those rumors (or more to the point, didn't care) but I still thought his nickname of 'monster' was fitting.
"Yo monster, more work for you."
He looked up and winced as I dropped my generator in the bin, taking note of the glow as it rattled around inside. Hey, the things were built for combat, I doubted a small 2 feet drop was going to make one go nuclear.
"You should be more careful, Sasha. So, how many was it this time?"
"Just two c's and a captured A."
Even I was unsettled by the gleam in his eye, but only slightly.
"A captured A?"
"Yep, a mind-bender. A real piece of work; Knock yourself out."
He grabbed me and clasped my hands in gratitude. His own hands were cold and clammy.
"Oh thank you Sasha, thank you!"
I managed to free myself and wiped my hands on my coat. One could never tell where his had been.
"You're welcome. Just play nice, eh?"
I told him that every time. I'm not even sure why; the witches weren't human. They certainly didn't play nice with us. And Monster gave his patented solemn response.
"Of course Sasha."
He then looked at everyone else.
"Well? Place them in, and get out. There's science to be done!"
There was a chorus of clatters as everyone else placed their generators into the bin then left without a word.... and quite a bit of haste. I sauntered, myself. Maybe a bit on the quick side, but everyone else was too busy fleeing to notice.
"Hey Doc?"
"Yes?"
He had already gone straight to my genny, forgoing the others.
"Have it ready by tomorrow?"
"Sure thing. Keep it up Sasha, you always do such wonderful work...."
The vault door closed behind me, cutting off anything else he might have to say. Whew.
Ivan draped himself around me, steering me towards the door.
"Alright, time to celebrate!"
I should probably be practicing forms, but what the hell. A little drink or three never hurt anyone.
From the outside central looked like a giant modern pyramid, gleaming reddish gold in the sun from the electrum runes chased across it's burnished steel surface. It was as close to impregnable as could be fashioned with modern understanding, from both mundane and magical weaponry. Some of the security was even automated, like the unmanned aerial drones that did fly bys, scanning with radar and targeting threats with missiles and machine guns.
While the city had been attacked more than once, it had only been attacked by witches twice in it's 200 plus year history. Both times the attacks had been foiled with great loss of life to the attackers. While the last one had hurt us hunters too, it had all but destroyed the strongest witches in the world at the time and was responsible for our current stalemate and cold (ish) war. They simply lacked the resources and manpower... or womanpower, to launch effective counterattacks. And our picking their new blood off one by one was only hurting them more.
The bars of course, started the street over; in the direction we were headed, they continued for a solid block. Our favorite of course, was the first one; the leaky toilet, a wonderfully horrid dive of sin and inequity. Sawdust on the rotting wooden floor, torches instead of good quality lamps or lights, and a large one eyed bartender weighing in at 150 kilos, and not all of it fat. You couldn't find better ambiance anywhere else!
Throwing some random guy who was sitting at my favorite table (in the back, with a good view of the only doors in) to the floor, I raised a hand to the waitress, one Emilia Watts. She was a pretty little redheaded thing that of course wouldn't give me the time of day, unless she was patting me on the head. True to form, she sidled over and did so.
"Hey there little Sasha, what can I get you?"
Must...not...maim....
Ivan stopped the knife in my hand casually, and Emilia didn't even blink.
"A beer of course. Just bring a couple pitchers."
"Coming right up!"
She sidled off and I sheathed the knife. At least she didn't completely ignore me, like she did Dustin. I could tell that annoyed him no end. He had always fancied himself a bit of a ladies' man. I don't remember ever seeing him with a female who wasn't slapping him though... or trying to kill him.
Luckily enough booze cured all ills. Soon we were all having a great time, Dustin's team (names? Who cares?) were regaling us with their exploits in the Bavarian hinterlands, which apparently involved a lot of fleas and ticks, and some witch that liked to use dolls. I was then begged/harassed to tell the tale of the class C I had chased, which took almost no time at all really. I mean it was only a three day chase and subsequent execution, nothing much to tell.
"You're way too dedicated, Sasha." Said generic female team member/moron number one on Dustin's team.
"Why thank you, miss...."
She sighed.
"Sylvie, Sasha, Sylvie Bonner. How do you always forget my name? And that wasn't exactly a compliment."
"Meh, you can't expect me to remember the name of every hot chick hunter Dustin decides to use as cannon fodder."
She blushed, then paled. It was a curious reaction. Beside her, Dustin sprayed his drink all over Ivan.
"That's not...!"
"Oh come on Dusty, how many are we up to? Three? Four now? It's got to be at least that many."
He flushed angrily.
"Just shut up and drink your beer, before I end you."
"Any time any place any way, buddy. I'll cut another few inches off you so there can be no doubt who is tallest!"
"Tomorrow, no generators, no weapons, in the arena."
Ivan face-palmed and Alicia muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "I knew it".
"Sure thing buddy. Better call medical and get your normal room reserved for you. But for now, drink time! Em, another round for everyone!"
There were cheers.
(tbc)
“The day dawned clear and cold. Birdsong traveled a great distance in the clear air, and stars could be seen clearly opposite the sun, as had been possible in days of yore, before the coming of science and technology. Evil, banished from without had taken up residence within the crumbling remains of fortresses and war machines gone by.
Get up, Sasha, or I'll read more.”
Oh hell, it was the Gloom, and he was reading that freaking lame author he was so fond of quoting to me; Nargle-bargle, or something. Guy was an ass.
“Gloom, with all due respect, it's my day off. You yourself gave me this day off, and such things are glorious treasures of the gods. So kindly sod off.”
He snapped that stupid book shut and strode over. My head pounded in time to his beat.
“Get. Up. Sasha.”
Each word was emphasized by a kick that had the pointed end of the Gloom's ridiculous boots digging for my heart through my ribs. For all of that, I could have ignored him, if not for the noise!
“Alright, alright, I'm up, I'm up.”
He continued ranting almost as if he hadn't heard me.
“Sheesh, I'm the leader of the Hunters; I have better things to so than to get drunk morons up so they can pound each other to paste in the arena. But no, you two idiots had to set up a match last night while drunk - again, and now there are so many bets riding on it that it would crash our economy to have you both sleep it off and forfeit.”
Wait, I had an arena match this morning? Who with? I had to stop drinking in Central. Was it somebody good?
“Come on, get up. You need to meet Dustin in the arena in 15 minutes or you forfeit.”
Oh, it was only Dustin. I could kill him later... when my head wasn't about to fall off.
“If you forfeit you'll cost Tonya a month's pay.”
Oh, shit!
“I'm up, I'm up! Where are my guns?!? Got any aspirin? Or some of that cure?”
The cure was the gloom's patented hangover cure. No, really. It was patented and sold in the gift shop downstairs, under his name. For all that it was made of essence of curdled death and damned souls, it worked, and worked in a matter of minutes. Perhaps it was the paprika too, what did I know about cooking?
I needed it, and needed it now. Tonya was one of the Gloom's old partners, (who wasn't old... may God have mercy on your shriveled soul if you implied that) Who went by the moniker of Plague. Guess what she could do with her generator? Not to mention she was insanely tough; I could shoot her with actual bullets, not the watered down crap I tended to use on people to avoid all those pesky murder charges, and she just shrugged them off.
She was my number one fan too. It was downright terrifying. If I made her lose cash, she would make me lose parts of myself I'd rather keep. Or maybe just camp outside my door to see whether I'd lost because I was sick or something.
The Gloom handed over a can of his juiced up sewer water with a lopsided grin. I drank it on the way out, and was proud of the fact I only wobbled a little. Most people drinking that crap would fall twitching to the floor, and foam at the mouth for a few. I was made of sterner stuff.
By the time we had made it to the arena, I was walking straight and more or less conscious, patting myself on the back as being one amazing guy... and found Dustin already there. Looking more than presentable, with a bevy of lovelies around him.
The arena was full and standing room only, mostly with off duty hunters, or those that claimed to be off duty. There had to be a few brave civilians in the crowd as well. I saw hands, my favorite bookie working the crowd, and gave him a nod.
And in my corner was... plague.
Life just wasn't fair. Right. Time to hurt someone, preferably him.
“You ready Sasha? You need some of Gloom's cure?”
“Already had it. It's fine. I don't need to be one hundred percent to do this; after all it's only Dustin.”
She gave me a long look, then nodded.
“Just remember not to kill him, OK?”
I scoffed loud enough so that everyone could hear me.
“Nah I''ll take it easy. If Dustin dies it'll be his own fault for being so weak.”
Dustin bristled predictably.
“I'm not weak you bastard! You're going down today!”
Flies could make such interesting noises, buzzing around. Even the loud ones.
“Whatever. Just beat him, Sasha... or I'll kill you.”
Delivered with a bright sunny face and an 'I'm-so-innocent-butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth' tone. Damn but plague could be scary. Not to mention as persistent as the flu. Fine, so she wanted a win, huh? Well so did I. A quick win, so I could go back to sleep.
According to the duel rules, we were required to start the duel 20 large steps away from each other; mid range, for one of us. That put Dustin at a momentary disadvantage, every match. Sometimes I backed up for more space. Some times I didn't. Today it was time to pull a trick I rarely used however. This time I would charge.
I usually only tried to use this trick once a year; not enough so he would come to expect it, but I usually wanted to end a fight quickly at least once. Sometimes it was a challenge not to use it more.
It opened up huge holes in his fighting style, but I wasn't his martial arts instructor, and he wouldn't listen to me even if I pointed it out. So why bother? It was someone else's problem. Gloom glared at us both.
“You two idiots ready?”
He nodded at exactly the same time as me. The bastard. I resolved to give him an extra shot just for that.
“Begin!”
Gloom was wrapped in shadows before the word finished slipping from him, and I didn't blame him; he knew what these duels between us were like.
I was off like... well like a shot from one of my guns, right towards Dustin's stupid, smug face. The comic surprise creeping over him in slow motion fuel to my hatred. Being hung over did not affect my draw in any way.
Hell, being half dead wouldn't affect my draw. I wasn't sure about fully dead yet, but I doubted it.
My guns came up, the one on the right sighting directly on his stupid weapon; two shots knocking it well wide of me. The left went under his chin.
I gave him a jaunty eye wiggle just as his brain caught up to the fact that he'd been beaten again, then shot once and removed the gun, letting him fall into the dirt. Then in keeping with my promise made to myself, I put another in his ribs. He twitched, but didn't react otherwise.
“Winner, Sasha.”
Glooms announcement was almost drowned out by the high pitched squee from my 'corner', where Plague was jumping up and down in a most interesting manner. If only she could just stop talking! Or hexing people, that would be great too.
The roar and groans of the crowd made me wince, Gloom's cure or no. The groans were from the morons that bet on Dustin. Fools like that deserved to lose their money; he never ever beat me. All those times people like to cite in the past were flukes, or didn't happen. Whatever, time to go back to bed.
“Sasha, a word?”
Uh oh. What did I do this time?
“What is it, Gloom?”
“There is a situation in the Urals I'd like you to investigate. I know you're due some down time, but I'm short hunters at the moment; Cedric was killed last week and Merp is on loan to Italy. Dustin is the only other one I could send and, well....”
He gave Dustin an experimental kick to the same ribs I'd shot. Dustin didn't even twitch this time.
“Yeah I get you. But you get to canvas around. If my team wants to come, great, but I'm not forcing them. They need the downtime more than I do. Me, I'm always ready. You know that.”
“Yeah I know, it's just.... No, never mind. Go get some sleep, so you can leave at first light tomorrow.”
“Yeah yeah, I'm going you nag.”
“Nag, is it? Get out before I challenge you, and get Plague to referee. I suppose I could even get her to play doctor afterward.”
Shudder. That was so far below the belt it wasn't funny. I took the hint, opening the arena doors so the medics could see to the moron.
Honestly the ribs would likely be the worst of it. His head was so hard the non lethal rounds barely knocked him out. And that only sometimes.
It was a good thing; after all, if he couldn't handle a friendly spar from one of us, how could he handle a witch? It was a simple case of tough love. The life of a hunter was usually brutal and brief.
The funny thing was, despite that we didn't have any lack of recruits; it was a pity so few survived to adulthood. Orphans like myself usually had the easiest time; we had nothing left to live for, and it showed in our training regime.
People who still had outside interests or a lack of dedication usually died within days of their first assignment. So what if those of us left were a little... off? We got the job done. Even if we had to be brutal and heartless ourselves.
Introspection was for morons too. What was I doing thinking about all this now?
I managed to make it back to my room, and locked the door this time to prevent interruptions. Not that it would stop the Gloom, but it stopped Plague – most of the time – and I knew she was following me. Waking up with her staring me in the face was just plain creepy. Almost as disturbing as her nick name for me; “cash-cow.”
I was a bull, if anything; large strong and virile!
On second though, propping a chair against the door knob was also a good idea.
That done, I flopped on my battered bed; clothes, guns, and all.
…........................................................................
Again, some jackass was pounding on my door. Jackasses and I needed to stop meeting like this. At least this time I was actually rested.
“Sasha, come on, get up boss-man.”
Ivan.
I muttered something. I wasn't sure what I was muttering, or who I was muttering it to, since Ivan couldn't hear me... but I did mutter it.
“Come on boss, it's morning. Time to get up and go. I have coffee. And whiskey. And whiskey in the coffee.”
A pretty tempting offer. He was right at least, it was time to get up. I wasn't even mad. I wouldn't tell him though, he might not gift me with bribes.
Opening the door I at least confirmed that it was indeed, my old buddy Ivan before I took the proffered drink and downed it. It was indeed whiskey coffee. An old recipe... from America; Kentucky I think.
“Wow, you're already dressed and ready to go...? No wait, silly me. Of course you slept in your clothes again.”
I handed the empty mug back to him with a shrug, then took his. He looked like he wanted to protest for all of a half a second before I downed his too.
“Of course. Why wouldn't I? Getting undressed is a waste of effort. Especially when I'm still hung over. I really only needed to be awake for ten minutes anyway.”
“Good. It is good you are in a good mood and ready. We should be going now. Maybe we can stop by my hometown before we go on to the backwoods, eh?”
“You mean your hometown is still standing?”
He nodded profusely.
“Yes. It is a small place, very backward, and no witches bother it. Was still standing last year at least. I can introduce you to my sister. She would like you, I think.”
“Is she cute?”
“She's larger than I am, and can out wrestle a bear. She might even be hairier than the bear.”
Ick.
“So she might be a sister in arms to Alicia.”
Ivan started helping me as I made sure my gear was packed. All I really did was swap out clothes. For some reason I was always hard on clothes, so I'd long since just kept new and clean ones around in case I had a rush job.
“Quite, but she is nice, and you need a woman in your life.”
“One plague is enough, thanks.”
His silence conceded the point.
One of these days I really should ask the Gloom what Plague's major damage was. Why was she so focused on me? I didn't get it. But of course, it was Plague. Gloom would tell her I asked, and I'd be hexed into half death the rest of my life.
I suspected I knew anyway; I was always good for betting on and winning money from. I could live with that. Hmm, speaking of...
“Alicia coming?”
There really wasn't any doubt; Ivan was here, so he was coming. Alicia on the other hand....
“Yeah she's waiting for us in the main hall. You look to be ready here.”
I eyed my gear, then added more ammo.
“Now I am, yes.”
I didn't want to use my generator power on anything mundane, even the mutant wolves of the Urals. I'd heard the rumors about what that sort of energy did to them. Of course those same rumors had the witches themselves mutating them. I wasn't sure I believed that one.
I mean if they had, why hadn't the witches used them to sweep down from the Urals and kill everything alive in their way? They probably could.
We hit the main hall, the crowd parting before us to make it easy. I almost forgot, but then the whiskey kicked in, so I doubled back to the front desk.
“Got a mission file for me?”
The current attendant was a young fresh faced academy student type. I gave her a week.
“Of course sir!”
She handed me a file that was damn near a book, dropping it. What the hell was I supposed to do with this? I guess it would be good fire tinder. Oh well.
“Let's go people, day is wasting! I want to be on the train within the hour.”
Granted the station was only fifteen minutes away, tops... but the way the bearded lady could dawdle, it could easily be that long. She gave me that look of hers, mustache bristling.
“Sheesh, window shop one time and hear about it forever. It was a great dress!”
“You stared at it for a solid hour. Literally, I timed you.”
“...and?”
“And we found out after you bought it, that it clashed with your beard. The men of the ball were shocked that you could be so tacky, to say the least.”
“Remind me why I haven't killed you yet?”
“Because I'm your boss, and you can't? Because Dustin could tie you up in knots, and I can take him out in – Ivan how many seconds was it yesterday?”
“Six.”
“Right! Six seconds?”
She grumbled. And pouted. And grumbled some more. Which helped us make good time, since with her head down grumbling at me, she didn't see the assorted flashy items for sale on the way to the train station. I swear she had the soul of a tourist. Then again she had the fashion sense too, so I guess it matched.
Who buys pink chiffon as an adult, with lace no less? She looked like a tube of candy lipstick in that thing. But there was something more important.
“Really? Six seconds?”
I thought it had been shorter than that. I was slipping or something.
“Yes, Six seconds, mostly time spent closing distance. The actual time spent firing shots was just under one second, all told. I couldn't get a completely accurate time, but perhaps .8 seconds.”
Damn. An eight-tenths of a second was a little slow to in my opinion. It should be six-tenths. Oh well, just no help for it; I needed more practice. Good thing I never ran out of good quality moving targets.
We didn't need to buy tickets; the trains were clearly marked. I ignored the screaming and running of the lemmings, and marched us to the train we needed. Russia here we come. I didn't open the file until I was safely ensconced in an otherwise empty car, well on our way.
The first paragraph said it all.
Rumors only, actual evidence was sketchy... but rumors that my mother and sister were in the Urals. Those same rumors also place several other witches there, carving out their own fiefdoms. Rumors brought in by superstitious peasants, but the disappearances were real enough. I waved the file at Ivan.
“Your village isn't close to this, is it?”
He didn't look surprised, which meant that he'd already read it.
“No, my village is in the foothills; this is many miles away from them. However it is interesting. What could witches want with cold mountains far away from the civilization they hate? That rnage is inhospitable, even to them.”
“Unless you're powerful enough not to care about the laws of nature.”
Something that fit both my mother and sister, all over. Both had over a dozen hunter kills to their credit, and probably thousands of civilian deaths. For all that power though, I couldn't shake the feeling that they liked to run from me. I always arrived a little too late to stop either of them. And last time my mentor had met my mother, well....
While one had died, the other had been so injured in the fight she hadn't been seen since.
And now there was an eyewitness report that placed her in the Urals.
I was nowhere near as good as my teacher had been; but I owed it to her to try and finish what she started, even if dear old mom and I didn't have prior history. I was giddy at the prospect; I would not lose.
….............................................
Wrapped in my comforting gloom, the hallmark of my power, I waited. There were some people that creeped even me, the acknowledged master of shadows, right the fuck out. My next 'guest' was one of them.
Plague showed it in. Not he or she, it. Marcus “Merlin” DeStaglio, one of the most brilliant minds to be born in any century... and crazy as hell. He had come up with a few theories regarding witch powers after redesigning the generators and truly mind boggling amounts of study and vivisection.
And then promptly applied those same theories to himself in an experiment that I felt should never be repeated. The experiment had been a qualified success, of a sort. Merlin had indeed become a little closer to it's namesake, able to manipulate small objects like pens and scalpels with much concentration.
Merlin had also gained a ghost of a hat, more sized to a doll than to a human, but a small wispy beret hidden among all that hair.
The fact that Merlin had become essentially both genders; with small breasts, a childlike body, and an equally small flacid penis was disregarded, if not treated by it with outright disdain. It dressed as a she, being small and childlike in form, the small dresses fit. And to Merlin's everlasting amusement, it served as lolicon attractant.
I turned my back on what went on behind closed doors as a matter of course among my own, but Merlin would be dead before I could blink if not for that mind, steadily working away. It had Emil Saum's ear though, and I had to admit the ideas were interesting.
If Snipe ever found out what I was thinking though, she'd come back from the grave to kick my ass.
“Well?”
That high pitched voice also put me on edge.
“He is almost perfect for our use. He has the genes, his lineage is clear. It runs strong within his family.”
I stared pointedly; it didn't react at all, staring back placidly at me. Which meant I was forced to ask.
“And the... side effects?”
“There shouldn't be any. I was... unsuitable for the experiment. I did not possess all the genes necessary. Even now, with all my manipulations, the power gained is negligible. He is such a strong candidate that such manipulations would be redundant. He has the genes, and is alive as a male, that is all the evidence we need; all other male children I've come across like him are stillborn. I would have... benefited from knowing of his existence before my own practical experiments took place.”
Like sniper would let you anywhere near Sasha.
“And that alone explains why you didn't know.”
It nodded, unperturbed. Something was seriously wrong with this... thing. Why was I even considering this?
“Right. Well, drastic measures need be taken in our circumstances. Under current models we will lose the war completely within a year; this is necessary. I am glad you now see reason. So when can I...”
“You can't. Sasha has to agree. The choice is his. And since he's currently on a mission, you'll just have to wait a little longer.”
It was the only way I would be able to live with myself, going forward with this. Hurry up Sasha, make this choice unnecessary.
The Urals were like any number of other mountain ranges. Cold and large. Large and cold. Inhospitable in the extreme. And like all the other inhospitable places the world over, crazy humans were already somehow living there. That alone said much about humanity, if you thought about it. I was not much for introspection however; I had my mind firmly on more important things as we finally strode our of the blinding snow and biting wind.
“Beer me.”
The rather charming looking Russian girl (more charming than the moose she was trying to resemble with that pole-axed look for the moment, at least) hesitated. So I felt repeating myself in the manner best used for those terminally slow in the head was needed.
“Beer. Now. Not five minutes from now. Right now.”
She moved.
“Sasha, you need to work on your tact. It's obvious the poor girl isn't used to outsiders. Some people need to get their stare on.”
Well that was just stupid.
“Staring is fine... after I get beer. And maybe some food. She can be all fascinated as I check my toes for frostbite. But you got to prioritize.”
Alicia backed me up, unwinding that scarf she'd picked up on the way from her face and shaking the snow and ice out of it. Oh well, can't have everything.
“For once I agree with the pipsqueek. People can stare all they want... while getting us what we need. This IS an inn, after all. Poor customer service could affect repeat business!”
“We are probably the first outsiders the girl has ever seen. I can't imagine they get many visitors up here. Just too damn cold.”
The 'girl' was probably older than I was, come to think of it. But it was always experience over years, after all. I was well traveled, and she probably hadn't taken 10 steps out of this god-forsaken alley. Ivan defended his him, but couldn't keep his tone even.
“More than you might think, Sasha, Alicia. The mountains farther North in particular seem to be tourist hotspots.”
As good a veiled warning to keep your guard up as any I've gotten; Ivan was saying this entire village could be compromised right now. Though there was no hat on the waitress, that didn't mean much. It could be hidden among her clothes. It was always harder to tell in the colder climes, and therefore more dangerous.
The innkeeper was a man, and judging by the features as the two stood side by side, both wringing their hands while trying to appear unimpressed by our august personages, related closely to the waitress. Probably her father. Which was a good sign, since most of the time family members died first to a witch. The lack of care worn lines etched into the happy father's face also spoke of a carefree, and therefore witch free life. I could ignore the frown directed at us.
Then the jolly bundle of love recognized Ivan, who had finally taken his own headgear off (a ski mask that he had packed; where he found one in this day and age I will never know... mostly because he won't tell me, the bastard).
“Ivan! As I live and breathe! It has been years! What brings you back to our little patch of heaven?”
“You know what, Gregor. You're the one who sent the letter, after all.”
And just like that suspicion all but vanished. Gregor here wouldn't want hunters on the trail if his daughter were a witch. Though it wouldn't be the first time such a trick had been pulled on us, it was highly unlikely.
“I did; so you received it. I had some worry sending Albert. He is as far away from his namesake as one could get.”
Ivan snorted, making me curious.
“Isn't that the truth. Still, he did manage the trails and roads alright. Made it to us virtually unmolested.”
“Virtually?”
“Well he had an incident with wolves, so he says. I think it was more an angry boyfriend on a morning after, but he could actually be telling the truth this time.”
The girl snorted this time, making me REALLY curious. Sounded like this Albert guy would be fun to know. Or annoy me worse than Dustin, and get in a dreadful 'accident'. Which could be amusing too, I guess.
“So who are your friends, Ivan?”
Ivan pointed us out in turn as he named us.
“Well this is Alicia Fraun, and this is Sasha Norre.”
The inkeeper's eyes went wild. A bit later the daughter seemed to make the connection, and almost spilled my beer with her shaking hands.
“Wait, THE Sasha Norre? The Maniacal Marksman?”
Ahh, my fame preceded me. Even in a backwards pest hole in the Urals I was known. I was in a pretty good mood, so of course the waitress had to ruin it.
“You're a boy?!? I thought you were...”
“Thought I was what?”
“Sasha, holster the gun please. I know these people.”
Grumbling, I did as asked. The waitress didn't help matters when she actually answered my question, proving that Albert wasn't the only 'special' person to come from this village.
“I thought you were a girl who had a sore throat from the cold.”
“Sasha, no. It's impolite to murder the beer wench, eh?”
I lowered my gun again.
“You're right. More beer, beer wench. Lot's more. And whatever you have hot to eat. I'm sick of chewing on snow.”
“Right away!”
She could move pretty quickly in that dress of hers. I turned to the innkeeper.
“So, any news further up the range?”
He smoothed his features, pasted on a smile, and shook his head. Honestly, it was like people thought I was an ogre or something. The real danger wasn't me at all.
“No, nothing. No word of any kind from the two villages further up, nor those on the other side of the mountain.”
Which meant it was almost certain that there was something to the rumors of witches. No word from four villages, in over a month, after one person got out to spread the rumor? It was almost certainly a trap. But a trap for who? If it was my mother, I was not arrogant about our chances.
Chances were that unless the hunters involved were very sneaky, and got in a lethal strike before she knew they were there... she'd murder them. It wouldn't even be close. And I was maybe the only one who stood any kind of real chance, other than Gloom himself, or his team. But I doubted any trap here was meant for me; it just didn't make much sense.
After all, mother could find me any time she wanted. I was positive of that fact, since I never tried to hide. No witch who wanted to find me would have to look especially hard.
But a trap for Gloom or any other of the strongest of us was likely. Which made it a good thing we hadn't sent anyone like that, even as it made it more dangerous for us personally.
But all it really meant was that we would have to go and scout for ourselves, and go from there. We were completely blind in this. I was lucky I had Ivan, who at least knew the area. One of the most immediate questions was burning in my mind. Why had this village been spared the invasion of the mad hatters? Why not just collect them all?
Something to ponder in between beers.
Ivan and Alicia both seemed to have the same idea; together we emptied the first pitcher in seconds. The food was some sort of sausage and potato dish. Filling and plenty of it, we wasted no time packing it away. As the sun set, it somehow managed to get colder in here. The big roaring fire did what it could, but something told me the lack of central heating would be an annoyance.
We needed sleep, and then a fresh start. So I went upstairs and chose a room while Alicia settled up the bill. From the sounds of it, Alicia wasn't happy to be the one chosen to settle up, but if they didn't ask me, and didn't ask Ivan, who else were they going to ask? I could hardly blame them if they didn't want to approach my august amazingness.
The rooms were too cold for the usual bugs or vermin to infest; which was a pretty good cheap alternative to pesticides, come to think of it. Judging by this room, all the rooms had fireplaces of their own, with wood fully stocked. I lit the conveniently set fire, set the grate, then jumped under the covers. It was almost like being back at my home for the winter.
Except there was no homicidal family waiting to murder me. Those lay further up the road.
…...........................................
Morning was, unfortunately, a morning. That's about the best thing that could be said about it. It was the kind of morning where a man wanted beer. Dark earthy Russian ale; the breakfast of champions. Of course, it was cold. The fire was still burning though, which meant someone had come in the night or early morning, and re-stoked it. Without waking me. A very neat trick.
Must have been the bar wench. I doubted the innkeeper had light enough steps.
I was actually well rested for once; piling your way through snow drifts as big as you were all day in order to walk in mind numbing cold tended to wear a person out, even if they were the pinnacle of human perfection.
So I threw on some clothes and walked downstairs; finding the rising sun greeting me. The bar wench was yawning as she pushed a ratty broom around, which was witch like behavior – but then no witch alive would be caught dead in that apron. At least not with a dress on underneath. There was that one witch in France....
But then again, this wasn't France. A fact I was reminded of when the girl spotted me and threw the broom away with a loud mouse like squeak. She acted like she'd just called me short or something! Though, come to think of it, she was taller than me, and could obviously stand to lose a few inches....
“I'm sorry sir, you startled me.”
“Apology accepted, and good morning. So what's your name? I can hardly keep calling you 'beer wench'. Though, if you want me to keep calling you that I suppose it's fine.”
She squeaked again, and her face turned more red than the fire in the hearth.
“My name is Eva, sir.”
“Sasha. Pleased to meet you. Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, could you get me a beer and some food? Preferably something with a few less potatoes in than yesterday?”
“Right away sir!”
And just like that, she bounced off. I picked up her broom, kicked out a chair to slump in, and waited.
It was a good fifteen minutes later (I had already checked my guns and ammunition twice; all was well on that front) when she rushed back in with more of that dark ale and a plate of eggs and bacon, with some sort of dark bread on the side. I exchanged the plate for her broom.
“Don't let me stop you.”
She got back to work while I ate. I finished well before she did. I didn't raise a fuss however; I was feeling rather mellow.
Ivan came down just as she finished, and the innkeeper guy, Gregor, came out of the kitchen to gather the plate (aiming a dirty look at Eva, who had taken forever to push that broom around). He all but jumped through the roof as he saw me calmly sipping my beer.
“Sasha! You're up early. Sleep well?”
“Yes, actually. So tell me, Gregor, Eva... were any of you in my room last night, stoking my fire?”
Eva's eyes got very wide as she stammered denials I couldn't even understand. They were in Russian (which I knew) but so broken I couldn't follow them. Gregor just shook his head and added.
“It is policy to do so if asked, but you did not ask, and thanks to your... reputation I thought it imprudent.”
“That's what I thought.”
Ivan caught on almost immediately.
“You would know us by tread, if Alicia or I did it, but we didn't. You would wake up for an unfamiliar tread.”
A survival trait; one did not long survive if they were a heavy sleeper. I finished the thought. I most pointedly did not think about how Ivan knew Alicia couldn't have been the one to do it, though I had my suspicions.
“So a familiar tread that wouldn't wake you up, stoked your fire. While not stoking ours. Alicia turned the service down while I of course, am immune to cold.”
And he actually thumped his chest. I was too relieved at hearing they had spent the night in different rooms to call him on it; after all he had been whining about the temperature freezing his water in the canteen just last week! But as always, he saw to the heart of the matter; something was definitely going on.
She was here.
Which she, I wasn't sure, but at least one of them was. Worse, they knew I was here. They had in fact, singled me out in such a way that I would know that they knew. I was betting it was mom. After all, who else would tuck me in and stoke the fire?
Sis could have done it, but like me, she wasn't known for being subtle. Or nice. Just ask Antwerp, that is if you could find a survivor.
And all this had happened with three experienced hunters in the inn, and two other people, and none had been the wiser. I nodded at Ivan, and he got the message, going upstairs to check on Alicia. I on the other hand decided to look around.
I had just come to the conclusion that the inn was clear of nasty surprises when Ivan came down, leading a rather irate Alicia.
“What the hell is the big idea, Ivan?!? I haven't even had my eight hours yet!”
Ivan just led her up to me without a word. She took one look at my face and shut up. Which was good, because I didn't want to yell over her.
“A witch was here last night. They crept through my room, stoked my fire, and left. All without killing anyone, or taking anything.”
I used no names, but credit given, Alicia knew exactly what I meant.
“Just great. Breakfast then please, beer wench.”
I couldn't help myself. I channeled my inner Dustin, making myself as snooty voiced as I could. I looked down at her as much as I could while looking up at her to reply.
“Her name, is Eva.”
I turned to Gregor.
“We need some supplies.”
He also got the point immediately.
“I'll make a list of what I have,”
And he left without a backward glance. After all the sooner we were gone, the sooner the more immediate threat to his town and townsfolk eased back to it's prior level. And hey, that level must be pretty low, since they weren't dead yet. Though the chances were they had been kept alive just for the illusion of normalcy.
Still no reason to make the risk a near certainty. A warning is a warning is a warning.
Alicia and Ivan both were eating as we left, bags packed and supplies restocked. Most importantly, the liquid refreshment; we did tend to go through the beer really quickly. The next village was a good three days away, but the trail (calling it a road was a little more generous than I was feeling) that Ivan showed us was straight and clear of normal threats, or so he said.
Since he was our local guide, I let him break the trail. It had nothing to do with some of the drifts being as tall as I was, or the snow being too loose for proper snowshoes. Despite what Alicia said. The journey was uneventful, unless you count seeing deer as being eventful. Even the dead fall trap that almost killed me was a yawn-fest.
Honestly I was beginning to get angry; it was like they weren't even trying.
Then Ivan wanted to stop for lunch. He was wet and miserable looking, like a giant drowned bear. But he was a slacker; I wasn't even tired! But whatever. He sat and drank his lunch while I collected the least soggy tinder I could find. We would want a fire later; places like this got truly miserable after dark, and good dry tinder wasn't always accessible.
The rest of the day passed much as the first half; if not for the cold and snow, this would be a nice relaxing nature hike. The thought made me physically ill. Ivan knew me.
“Sasha, don't go borrowing trouble.”
“but, not even a bear! It's been all day! All freaking day!!!”
“Soon we shall have more violence than we can all three handle. You just need to be patient.”
“I don't DO patience. You know this.”
Alicia threw a rock at me. Really.
“Suck it up and learn how. I'm not getting killed because you can't get your adrenaline fix, you damn junkie.”
An opening! I retorted in my best, most reasonable voice.
“You do realize throwing a stone at a violence prone adrenaline junkie is asking to die, right?”
Ivan managed to sound a lot like a mother (well at least one that wasn't homicidal) as he sighed.
“Please you two, no fighting, or I'll turn this expedition around.”
Sigh. I wanted to shoot something. I couldn't even shoot the trees! The guns would make too much noise, and draw unwanted attention. Of course that was on the off chance we hadn't already been made, which was highly unlikely. I was pretty sure my personality was well known among our enemies; namely how I wouldn't waste time when there was a witch to kill. Or maybe that was my arrogance talking, who knew?
Yes, I was a bit arrogant, sometimes. A little. I could even admit it and be humble. In between all those times of being awesome, that is.
As boring as it all was, I didn't signal the halt until the sun was beginning to dip. Once it got dark it would get cold fast, which meant it was time to clear some snow and get a fire going. I let Ivan clear the frozen ground, and Alicia set up the shelter (which was little more than a lean-to set very close to the fire pit; she was lazy) While I gathered the fire wood. Of course, when I got back to find everything ready and so dumped my first load of wood in the newly made fire circle, Alicia decided to take issue with how I did things.
“That crap will never burn; it's too wet.”
Heh. I removed one of my incendiary shells from my pocket. Hey, whether I knew how to make a proper fire or not, this was obviously life or death! A battle against the elements and nature itself! And every proper battle followed one simple doctrine.
Shoot it until it stops moving.
“Uh, Sasha... that's a high yield incendiary shell.”
Alicia started edging back while Ivan face-palmed.
“Yes, so it is.”
“What do you intend to do with it?”
I stared at him, aghast.
“Isn't it obvious, Ivan? I mean, really?!?”
“Yes Sasha, it is, but wouldn't your flint steel or your lighter work just as well?”
I allowed that point.
“Quite likely Ivan, but it won't be nearly as much fun!”
And a quick twist of the primer and toss later, and the wet wood was covered in small amounts of napalm and burning merrily. Now we could all take our hands out of these stupid stiff gloves and dry out. And right at the edge of camp was enough wood for the entire night. I was lazy myself, but not lazy enough to freeze.
I settled in while my staunch companions eased their way back to the circle of light. Since no one else thought to, I took out my bag of pebbles and set them close enough to soak up heat; I'd use them to line my sleeping gear later. That's what I brought them for, after all. I bet Ivan had a set, he seemed to recognize them. Alicia looked a little lost, and chalked me carrying small smooth rocks around as if I was insane.
Well I was, but not about this at least.
Day one down and no one dead; small steps I guess.
Several uneventful days of travel eating deer jerky and tough bread. Several days of having Ivan break a trail for us through the snow; the trail hadn't been used in about a month after all. We hadn't even seen a bear, and nothing had been caught in the few traps Ivan and I had set at nights. Even the bear would have been welcome; the jerky was getting old.
But none of that mattered; this morning did. I was on my belly in the snow, whited out as best I could, staring through a pair of binoculars at the village the original report had come from. In that village, it was business as usual. The men were hunting or thatching or carpenter... ing. The women were cooking or gathering eggs or mending clothes.
Everything was low tech, just as Ivan's hometown had been. I didn't see so much as a generator, or a water pump. No electric lights. Everything done was by fires. It was pissing me off; hadn't these people heard of space heaters?
I didn't see her. I didn't see either of them. What I did see was a new, large log cabin further up the mountain. Well, more of a log fortress, really. The palisade was going up, even as I watched; there were eight people I could see working on it.
The one technology represented with surprising regularity, even given where we are, were firearms. After just an hour cataloging the different types, from well cared for antiques to modern machine manufactured numbers. I was now willing to bet everyone had them, and the women were just better hiding them in their dresses or something. They were packing more visible heat than one of our chapter houses... well most of them.
We didn't speak of the Borneo anymore.
“What do you think, Ivan?”
He was looking through his own set of binoculars while Alicia just fumed. She'd forgotten hers.
“Looks mostly normal. If not for the fact that everyone is armed, and there was a new mayor in town, I'd feel comfortable walking right in.”
“Yeah, me too.”
There were no armies being trained on the icy green, no magical death ray in evidence, none of the things you'd expect from the enemy. Still, it was a base camp for them. Not a summer home, but still a place where conceivably, they could be holed up, safe from our influence. If they thought that, they were fools. Our arm was just as long as theirs.
“Well nothing for it I guess.”
I removed my binoculars from my face and Alicia immediately swiped them without so much as a please, training them on the village to get her own impressions.
“Sasha, no. We can't just walk in there; it's a trap.”
“Of course it's a trap; it's our trap. They just don't know it yet.”
“I'm telling you your standard approach won't work here; not this time.”
“And I'm telling you it will.”
I responded pleasantly enough. Ivan was a worrywart, was all. A village full of peasants, good odds on two witches being present, either one of which could probably give the best we got a run for their money. Piece of cake really.
I started to stand up and promptly got tackled back into the snow. At least it was Ivan.
“Ivan, I'm not staying cold and wet in the snow all day. If you don't get off, I'm going to shoot you off.”
If Alicia had tackled me, I wouldn't have bothered with the warning. The only way to figure out this trap before we froze to death was to spring it. And it was either go forward or go back without trying anything, and I wasn't about to do that.
“Just an hour more Sasha. Please, just give us an hour more to work it. Then you can go in, guns blazing.”
These people... everyone thinks I'm some violence happy barbarian. Where do they even get the idea from? I can be reasonable! I'm always reasonable.
“Fine, you got an hour. I'm going to just walk away from this tree line, and go get warm.”
Ivan looked to me sharply.
“No fires, and no fireworks Sasha. It would be just as bad to force a confrontation in the forest as the village before we know what's going on.”
“Fine, fine. I'll use those heating packs we have. I just want to get warm.”
Ivan turned back to his study, making occasional comments to Alicia, who answered. They were quiet so I couldn't hear them as I trudged back. We had twenty heating packs that worked for six hours at a time through the joys of chemical reaction. They were supposed to be strictly for emergencies, and to avoid losing toes and fingers to the cold. So far we hadn't needed any.
Well I was cold, and I couldn't make a fire. So this counted.
I took my sleeping bag out and snapped the center of those little bags, shaking them and throwing them inside. Well, all but four. I figured four was enough for another emergency, in a pinch. Then I got comfortable and started reading about what edible plants grew in this crappy climate. There weren't many, and what there was were mostly berries. The cloudberries looked especially good, at least judging from the picture. I had a feeling survival strategies for the Urals might become my new favorite book for the next few weeks.
Ivan came back, then did a double take. Not sure what his issue was, but he palmed his ruddy face.
“You didn't need to use them all, Sasha.”
“Yes I did; I was cold.”
He didn't need to know I had saved a few; after all, he was born to this weather. And Alicia was half wildebeest so she didn't need any either. Speak of the devil, and she will lumber up like a Yeti.
“Use all of what?”
“The emergency heat packs.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all of them, and keep your voice down.”
I didn't bother to correct the impression Ivan left Alicia either. I just shrugged.
“It was an emergency; I was cold. That's what we brought them for.”
Alicia had the right idea.
“Screw it, pass me some, I want to get warm too.”
Ivan rolled his eyes but held his hand out. I passed five each to both and sat up as they sat down, huddled in their own blankets. We needed to talk strategy.
“Well, did you learn anything new?”
“No. Not really. No one came out of the new log fort, and I didn't see any obvious evidence of witchcraft.”
Nice. Good strategy session. I hated long boring talks anyway. But it was always nice to confirm details.
“So... I was right? Is that what I'm hearing, Ivan?”
He sighed.
“Yes, you’re hearing right. The direct approach will work as well as any other. Though I'm placing myself on record for at least trying stealth.”
“Duly noted.”
And I would note it. I just wouldn't respect it. Stealth almost never worked, even if we had a specialist in it. We didn't. Ivan was probably our best, but he was big and could only be so quiet. I sucked at it, and Alicia, well, she tripped on her beard often. Against witches that had spells to detect intruders we would never be able to go incognito.
We were all experienced hunters, but some game you could stalk, and some game stalked you. Just made it more interesting, really.
“Well glad we had this talk Ivan, it clarifies what we need to do.”
Alicia pondered. It took her a moment more than it probably should.
“Go in there, guns blazing?”
“Well I was thinking of just walking in, and seeing who popped up to shoot us as opposed to shooting them all, but that's the basic idea, yes.”
Alicia nodded.
“Standard operating procedure then, just like the last job. And the job before the job before, and the job before that....”
“Yep. Standard stalking horse tactics.”
Why fix what isn't broke? Ivan had an answer for that one.
“I think we need to find a strategy that doesn't have such a high mortality rate. Staking our own out like goats to be killed so we can identify our enemies leads to regrettable loss of life.”
What a bleeding heart.
“Sure the strategy might kill a few of us... but only the weak ones!”
He stared at me. Fine, time to be serious.
“Fine. We're going to die Ivan. We all are. Witches have all of us by the throat, and we're waiting for the hammer to fall. Better to die stopping them, better to die killing them, then to die on your knees like a whipped dog. If you can find the better way to build that mousetrap, well I won't stop you.”
He wouldn't though; it didn't exist. Better minds than his had tried and failed. The problem was as always, detection.
“We've confirmed witch presence Sasha, we should go and bring back reinforcements.”
Idiot.
“We haven't. We've seen some suggestive things, but we haven't seen a single witch. All we've seen are nervous and armed citizens, who might be arming against some rogue blood-mad bear. Unusual behavior, yes we've seen that. But we haven't seen anything we can point out to the Gloom as a reason to leave and bring back more people, and you know it. We go back now, and Gloom will bench us all for cowards. And he'll be right to do so.”
I looked. Alicia understood this much at least, she needed no prompting to be reminded that she was the one on the wall. Ivan was getting too close to retirement, perhaps. As for Alicia and I, we were cold.
“So, no plan? No last minute change in tactics?”
“No.”
I threw my sleeping bag at him, with the heat packs still inside. They had some four plus hours left.
“Good, Alicia and I will go in, you circle around and find a hole. If we aren't back before those packs inside run out, retreat and go for reinforcements. Don't waste time, don't sleep. In fact, get a few hours now, cause you likely won't have the chance if we don't come back.”
If they caught us alive, they could make us talk. Alicia and I were tough (as Ivan was, for that matter) but the witches could always make someone talk if they cared enough. We could buy him some time to use though. Who knows? It might even be enough.
“Look I didn't mean I didn't want to....”
Again; idiot. I forestalled him with a hand.
“I know, I know. But one of us has to, so it might as well be you. You know the area, you know survival tactics here, and you're the most level headed of us. So you stay, we go.”
Alicia fell into step as best she was able as I walked away. Ivan didn't waste another word. I led the way to the main road into the village, which was little more than a jumped up trail, and together we took it to... well whatever the hell village it was; I'd forgotten and I couldn't read the sign. Ah well, it didn't matter.
The reaction upon the first person seeing us was immediate. The quilting bee of ladies crossed themselves and hurried inside. I wished them well... and hoped they had a basement. Some of those who saw us just watched us pass by. And some of those who watched us pass fondled their weapons. They had a choice to make, and they were contemplating it.
There was no inn in this village... however there was a sign, written in several languages, English among them. It read: “travelers this way.” And pointed to the new fortress. With a shrug I turned that way, Alicia sticking to me like wide-eyed glue.
At our change in direction some of those people who had gathered to follow us and gawk decided that it was finally time to be elsewhere. Good; I hoped they had basements too. Nice basements dug as far down into the frozen soil as they could manage.
The large portcullis was up, and the large door was unguarded. It had a bell pull, so I used it first. Then I waited. Then I pulled it again. Hey, I could be polite!
“Sasha, might want to give it more than 20 seconds between pulls.”
She looked nervous.
The door was answered before I could ask her. I turned to find an extremely tall, amazingly well built woman in a maid outfit standing before the entrance. She had to be six feet, thin but with breasts as big as my head. I am the king of fine detail; I notice such things. The maid outfit she wore had a short skirt and low cut top; she also wore heels and knee socks. In this cold.
I didn't see a hat, but I knew a witch when I saw one.
“Aaah, guests. Welcome to our humble home. I am Maid Marion. Accommodations in the village are so... plebeian. Please, follow me to rooms more appropriate to your wonderful selves.”
And she turned around and just walked away. With a shrug at Alicia, who was looking even more nervous than before (and maybe downright scared) I followed.
“Thanks. The people in town are kind of twitchy about strangers for a reason.”
That stride she had was one I could appreciate, witch or not. She stopped and pointed at a... closet? I made a manly attempt to keep my eyes on her, and I had to look up for that. She gave no notice that she appreciated it.
“Of course, they are quite provincial. If you wish, that is the cloak room. You may take off those wet and undoubtedly cold garments you are currently wrapped in.”
That sounded like a great idea. I started shucking my coat.
“Sasha, is that really a good idea?”
The witch definitely heard, and there was a glimmer of recognition there.
“Yep. We can dry these out and warm up.”
The fortress was conspicuously warm, and while if we needed to run we were screwed, it was hard to draw with a 20 pound coat hindering your movements. I mean, I could do it, I was a pro... but half a second here could mean death. I'd rather freeze than let a witch have the advantage.
Once our coats and insulated pants were off, there was no disguising what we were. Maid Marion didn't bat an eye.
“So how many of you are here? Who is your mistress?”
“Olivia Norre, of course.”
I heard my teeth grind, loudly, but didn't feel it. My mother. My mother was here. And that Maid witch seemed amused with my reaction; nodding to herself with a smile. We would see who had the last laugh, soon enough.
“And the other present?”
“Anastasia Norre, of course.”
This time my hands broke something small and delicate. I wasn't sure what piece of equipment I'd broken, not did I care. The rumors confirmed, just like that. My mom and sister both in one place, plotting with this... this... maid, this thing in maid costume, on how best to kill all humans.
If anything her smile got wider, displaying fully her perfect teeth. It looked predatory.
Whatever. I took the effort to calm down. I could be generous; I had enough bullets for all. Alicia looked downright terrified. I wasn't sure why, the witches had no interest in yeti; even my mother. But then again, facing at least two S-class witches (I'd lay my bank account in central on three), both of whom were the more insane members of the Norre family... I couldn't exactly call her on being scared.
“Take me to them, please.”
Maid Marion paused, and wiped her smirk from her face.
“Of course. I will show you your quarters along the way. Please do make a note of the proper rooms.”
And she set off again, with even more wiggle in her walk than before. Odd; why continue the farce? She knew judging by her smile how ugly this was going to get. She knew I had to know she knew. There were only two ways this could end, and neither of those options had us staying here longer than an hour.
Nonetheless, she pointed to a hallway.
“Down that hall, the fifth and sixth room on the left. The fireplaces are already set, and the linens are fresh. Are you sure you wouldn't rather freshen up first? The baths are drawn and warm.”
Not even a small chance.
“No, thank you. I'm afraid our gracious hosts will simply have to hold their noses for a bit. Best to get this over with, don't you agree?”
From the sour look she shot me, she didn't.
“Of course. You are an honored guest.”
She was good at playing the maid. We went on to what could only be called a small throne room. There was a monster fireplace in the far left wall blazing merrily, and torches lining the walls to cut the artificial gloom. The room itself was all bare logs, sturdy and woodsy smelling. There were a few amateur tapestries to break the monotony, and large rough-hewn tables with equally large rough-hewn log benches lined the place, making a sort of path to the throne.
And there sitting in the throne, reading a yellowed copy of some magazine written in Italian and likely from last century, was my mother.
She didn't look a day older than the day she murdered Dad. Late thirties, with a hint of the bloom of youth left, she sported white streaked red hair cut in a bob; the white streaks were a result of her pact, I knew. He figure wasn't quite as good as her maid's, nor was she as tall, but she didn't suffer from the comparison at all. She was dressed in a low cut gown colored and made to resemble fire, and it suited her. Her hat, a sort of heart shaped beret that matched the dress, was firmly and openly placed upon her head at a rather jaunty angle. I couldn't see her familiar, but it had to be around. As soon as I entered she smiled, that warm loving smile I remembered from so many days that made my shriveled heart ache.
And next to her, standing and still a few inches shorter than me, was my baby sister. Blonde, blue eyed, cute as a button and more deadly than one of my guns. Or both of my guns. Her familiar was in evidence; a small tattered brown bear. She was dressed in overalls and a peasant blouse, and had honest to God mary janes on her feet. Anyone's guess as to where she found those... or whose corpse she took them off of. Her hat was a took, of all things.
That bear worried me. It grew, became stronger and tougher than a polar bear, and breathed fire. It wasn't worse than mom's, but it was bad. My sister hugged that cursed thing to her chest and exclaimed:
“Hello brother! Mr. Scruffles and I missed you!”
My voice was colder than the air outside, but steady. I was proud of that as I kept an eye on all of them. The maid made it easy on me, walking over to stand at Mom's right hand. The symbolism wasn't lost on me.
“Hello Ana. Father sends his regards.”
It was a bit of a cheap shot. Mom's face fell a bit. Ana just looked confused, as if she didn't understand or remember she was the one who murdered dad in cold blood. Maybe she didn't; I don't know. Witches were never sane, and many of them were worse than feral dogs. Her next statements, said in a rush before Mom could shush her (though she tried, I noted) clinched that thought. That and it almost made me draw.
“Dad? Where is he!?! Is he here? I'd love to see him again!”
“Wait, Sasha!”
I held on, barely. Her plaintive ton did reach me, but there was more red in this room than a minute ago; even the maid was splashed liberally with it. I felt my neck grate as I focused on Olivia... my mother.
“Can't we just talk for awhile before we get to the main event? Please?”
Ana just pouted cutely. I wasn't fooled for a second. The look of gaping surprise on the maid's face however, that was priceless. Well it wasn't like they'd see my hands move if I didn't want them to. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and leaned back.
“Sure, it's your dime. What did you want to talk about?”
“Well for starters, how have you been?”
I didn't even think over a response. I probably should have.
“Doing fine. Killed a mind controlling witch who thought all humans were her toys just a month ago and I'm still basking in the afterglow; yourself?”
My pointed glance Ana's direction made her face tighten and eyes narrow. The maid just looked amused, while Ana wasn't even paying attention, preferring to mutter to her familiar. That was fine though; Olivia obviously cared about the threat, which meant I could use it. Ana was the weak link here anyway, I was sure of it. The maid was too in control, and held a sort of aura about her that matched my Mom. She was power, and she knew it.
“Well three months ago I destroyed the small town of New Leeds; they were... well they were doing something they shouldn't have been, and I'm still basking in the afterglow.”
The maid looked surprised, Alicia looked aghast, and Ana was Ana. As for me, I always knew I'd had my mother's sense of humor.
New Leeds had been a secret city, a small town where bleeding edge tech was being developed. The rumor was, before they were hit they were making an anti-witch weapon that wouldn't rely on generators, and would automatically detect them. I thought that was a load of bull, but humanity felt the loss of some of it's best and brightest. It didn't really surprise me Mom was behind it, but I did wonder how she knew. I entertained no illusions about being able to beat it out of her.
She surprised me.
“I had a mole. He's dead now.”
Oddly enough I believed her.
“What happened?”
She shrugged.
“He was a hunter. He fought a witch as part of his cover and died. It happens. Got a question for you; where is your third?”
So they didn't know. A mistake on their part, they should be keeping constant surveillance up, especially since they knew we were coming. It was my turn to shrug.
“Out there somewhere. He's going to go get backup in the event this village turns out to be witch infested.”
The maid spoke up, confirming she was only playing for company.
“Oh? You hadn't sent him already?”
Silly witches.
“The organization I work for requires some form of evidence; we don't just kill indiscriminately.”
“Oh, and what's your evidence?”
Alicia was tugging at my arm. She didn't want me to answer.
“Us of course. The moment we kick things off, our third will see it.”
Mom... Olivia turned to her maid who wasn't.
“That jive with what you know?”
Maid Marion nodded. So they weren't as stupid as I'd thought. No matter, Ivan could dodge whatever this unknown's familiar is. Mom turned to me and smiled, that old warm smile again.
“Glad to know you don't hesitate to tell the truth.”
“Yeah, well, won't matter soon. None of you will be able to act on the information. We about ready to get started?”
Ana piped up, and my hands twitched lower.
“That's the big brother I know! Always so impatient!”
“Ana, go play.”
What? I mean sure, Ana was nuts, but she would back Olivia to the hilt, so why would Olivia send her away? Ana didn't get it either.
“What?”
“Go to your room and play. For an hour. Do not come out no matter what you hear or see.”
“But....”
“No buts! Go!”
That old vocal steel. I'd missed that too. Ana went, crestfallen at her lack of opportunity to feed me my own entrails or rip my limbs off one by one.
“Her room is the third one to the left in the hall Marion pointed out for you. If you don't go inside it, you should be fine.”
Confusing didn't even begin to describe it. Mom was warning me to stay away from Ana; but I could disobey her later. Right after I killed her and her hench-woman. I could feel the tension in the air; we were seconds away. I nudged Alicia and nodded to maid Marion. She got the message.
“You ready?”
Both the witches nodded, but to my surprise didn't start themselves.
“Alright, go.”
and I drew.
As expected, I was faster. Also as expected, there was some form of physical barrier in place. Olivia was forced to dodge as my first shot shattered it, as it was made to do. The second kissed her cheek with it's heat. Alicia and the maid were... trading whip shots? Weird. The maid seemed to be playing with her more than anything else. I didn't have time to do more than see that Alicia was still alive though. Olivia's first strike finally hit, setting me on fire. I dropped and rolled while putting a few more rounds her way, forcing her to focus more on dancing than finishing the job.
Our clothes were highly fire resistant, so any injury I had couldn't be too bad. The pain was pretty good though; at least a 4. The flames didn't stick at any rate, and my left handed gun went back into it's holster, out of ammunition. Out came the gun for my right hand, my trusty colt navy. Drawing more guns was preferable to asking the witch kindly if she'd wait while I reloaded.
Now that the primary shield was down, Olivia would be battered around by the concussive shells as she focused on stopping them, allowing me to keep the initiative. Six rounds, six seconds to come up with a better plan than 'shoot her till she stops twitching.'
The shells worked even though I missed with two, pounding into her secondary protections and drawing blood as they knocked her around. Empty, the colt navy went into its holster. Out came the magnum and the glock. The magnum had some bigger bangs, and the glock fired flechete. By the time I used both, my generator should have the charge on my colts recharged. Then I'd have to hide and reload... or pull my ace in the hole.
The good news is, one of the holes I put in the place to start the fight had been through the roof, and Ivan should have seen it and already moving. At least if he was still alive; both witches were fighting without their familiars. I didn't know about the maid's, but big as this fort was, big as this room was, Olivia's familiar wouldn't be able to hide in it. Just too big, too flashy. Which meant the familiars could well be after Ivan.
“So, would you really feed my hat into your generator, son?”
What is it with witches and talking during fights? It was a stupid thing to do.
“In a minute or so, you'll find out.”
My glock clicked dry just as she was recovering; she fired some sort of bolt of force that was similar to bolts I'd seen before... but had a nasty trick. I couldn't dodge them. I managed to make 3 of them hit each other, but the other 7 slammed into me. I slammed into the wall. Alicia hit just after I did, coughing blood.
Right, no time to reload; .50 cal time.
“Desert out!”
My allies always appreciated the warning before I broke open the can of gratuitous whup-ass. Alicia immediately turned and cut a hole in the wall we'd just used, making a hole and diving through it as I drew the largest gun I packed in my arsenal. I made sure to dive for the hole Alicia created before firing.
The first shot was the equivalent of a full pound of old high explosives; a shaped charge that blew hit Olivia and blew forward, completely demolishing the throne room in an instant. The backlash did enveloped the maid too, and blew me through the wall into the snow outside. I dug a good twenty foot trench, but generator enhanced clothes were tough, and a little thing like this wouldn't kill me. Only mostly kill me... but no risk, no reward, right?
“... Sasha, you still alive?”
Alicia was hunched over me, yelling in my ear, and my hearing was coming back. She was also shaking me, which I hadn't felt before, so there was likely some concussion thing going on. I still held my gun though. I shrugged Alicia away; no one wanted to come to full wakefullness looking at THAT.
“SASHA ELSA NORRE!!!!!”
Yep, hearing was definitely back... and Mom... Olivia was pissed. Whatever I hadn't destroyed she was currently setting on fire; her aura blazed, and everything within fifteen feet either burst into flames and was consumed in an instant, or melted and then burst into flames. She lacked some control; she was even going through the floor. I was outside, and from here I wasn't even cold. I didn't see the maid anywhere.
Right. Even with the bracing, best I could do was unload one clip of the eagle, and only with my dominant arm. Any more than that, and I'd break it.
A quick survey while dodging gouts of fire and I saw it. The spec in the sky, rapidly getting closer. That had to be Olivia's familiar. Alicia had more pressing concerns.
“Elsa?!?”
“Shut up Alicia.”
“But, Elsa?”
Mom had really wanted a daughter. I was the first attempt, and she didn't want to change the name picked out. She was a stubborn sort that way, and Dad went along.
“Eyes front or you'll get your beard singed off!”
I pushed her out of the way and returned fire. The second shot missed and hit the building. What was left of it now wouldn't survive the night. Guess we weren't getting our coats back. Her return shot was a ball of fire as big as a truck. It exploded and I dug another trench.
I think even the maid ate some of that. I certainly didn't see her.
Not being a wuss, I stood up, ignoring how my bones creaked. My second shot intercepted Olivia as she came in for the kill. We both got blown back again, but were better prepared for it. Olivia hadn't been dead center; I wasn't sure where she went, but she wasn't in the crater. Alicia was throwing her special knives at someone I couldn't see and I profiled left, away from her. So I wasn't dead center for the return volley, which seemed to be hundreds of little meteors thrown scatter-shot around the area.
They didn't light so much as a blade of grass on fire, but melted holes in my coat as if it didn't exist.
The speck was now large enough that most people would look up and wonder 'Oh my God what the fuck was that?' Of course I knew, and didn't like what it meant. The unwilling glance upward also revealed Olivia, floating in the air like a freaking pinata. Witches loved the air. Shots three and four went to the growing speck and Olivia; both dodged. Both, as near misses, went off, though damage was relatively minimal. At least it knocked her out of the air; I needed heat seeking rounds or something. Maybe I could bug the tech guys for something.
The speck resolved itself through the fireball as Olivias familiar, the Dragon known as Crematoria. Olivia picked herself up just as shot five hit Crematoria maw, snapping his head back in a manner that would have broken the neck of a creature obeying the laws of physics. Too bad familiars never did. I had no inclination to let that thing breathe on me. The other hunters that faced Crematoria, well not even the bones were left.
Then a Giant green hand, an honest to God green hand complete with ridges and fingerprints, swatted down from the sky and slammed me into the turf.
But I wasn't a wuss. This wasn't enough to kill me, let alone stop me. I'd be up just as soon as I felt my legs again. Of course, with my generator broken like it was, no doubt vomiting up it's share of undigested hats and solution I could even now feel pooling around my ass, and no doubt mixing with my blood, that might take awhile. Generator enhanced healing would be offline. My trigger finger worked, but my arm didn't so I couldn't do much more than watch as Olivia, no that was Mom, walked up.
“You've grown so strong. But not strong enough for what's ahead; you are only human, after all.”
My other arm didn't work either. Perhaps I needed a hold out in my chest, or maybe my jaw. That would be aimable. Crematoria loomed behind Mom, and she waved him back. That was good, he blocked the sun. I hated things blocking the sun. Or did I hate the sun?
“Rest easy, my Sasha. I am rather concerned that the Gloom sent you on what was so obviously a suicide mission. Did he truly not have anyone else? Are the defenders of humanity truly spread so thin?”
I tried to at least snark at her. From the look on her face spitting up blood was just as good. Score one for the good guys! I wish I could wear a nice suicide vest; but those could be set off by the right magic, so it would just be making the job easier for the enemy. But sheesh, at least it would shut her up. She reached and I felt her touch, feather light, on my cheek.
“You should give up this life Sasha. There is no good to be had here. You aren't defending humanity, you aren't saving lives. You are just killing. You should give up, seek peace, enjoy life till the end. The end comes too quickly for us all.”
She ruffled my hair and stared for a moment, then gave that old sunny smile.
“But your end at least, is not today. Enjoy your life, young Sasha. Enjoy your friend's lives. Know that should you continue this, your end will come much more quickly than it needs to.”
She tapped me on the forehead and the sun fled.
Well, nothing beat returning a failure. Sure, someone could argue the point that returning at all, after being left in freezing snow, with an epic battle lost. Waking up with all my limbs attached was a plus I suppose. Waking up with no bones broken was another. Waking up with hypothermia setting in despite the fires and Ivan's best efforts, with the townspeople looking on... not so much. They hadn't even bothered trying to put out the fires; those had guttered out on their own when the snow started falling.
Both Alicia and I not losing any fingers and toes to the cold was a plus.
Ivan had been stopped from running like the wind by a giant and angry dragon, that had been masquerading as a snow covered hill on our way in. The dragon had just swatted him like a noxious insect, then moved to support Olivia. That turned out to be a plus, since he was able to come to our assistance before the villagers could.
The villagers were not happy with us, for some reason. I couldn't really understand it; we hadn't even come close to winning, but the village was still standing. There wasn't even much property damage in the village proper, which was kind of a miracle. A few houses burned down from Olivia's massive area attacks' that was it.
That was hardly anything at all.
But still, I woke to Ivan holding off a village welcoming party. It seemed that we were not welcome in the frozen pest-hole anymore, if we ever were. That night I had regretted not having all those warming packs I'd used; the campsite was very cold after dark. I learned later the temperature that night had hit an all time low.
We had been forced to use Ivan's generator energy to stay warm on the hike back; none of us had been in great shape. And our generators were running on fumes. Any witch at all could have killed us on the way back, and most importantly, I couldn't get Ivan to part with his reserves to I could engage on my normal extra-curricular activities!
Hunting witches on the side when you have no power to shoot them was difficult at best.
We met our support team on the way out; they had a good reputation, but they weren't anyone I had worked with before. Their leader was Deisel. That wasn't his real name of course; I knew that it was actually a type of fuel for engines. But apparently he didn't have a real name and used that instead. I didn't get it.
He was big, as big as Ivan and even more top heavy. He was also bald as a cue ball and affected a gravelly sort of drawl that made me think he was trying to come off as an American. Instead, he managed to sound like a yutz. He was the leader of the team, and my own rank within the hunters, though he had been active in the organization less than a year. His generator weapons were a pair of bracers that he used to punch faces in; one our approach at least, we agreed.
The second was a gray, some mouse by the name of Edith Myer. She was a brunette and smaller than I was. I knew nothing about her at all, mainly because she didn't know how to talk after stating her name. She did like staring at me and blushing however, so maybe there was some hope of some interaction. And I had to admit she was cute enough, with a pixie like face that wasn't entirely unlike mine. Her weapon was, of all things, a mirror. She had only been active for about six months, if memory served.
The last member was a tall cadaverous gray simply known as Kai. He was completely covered in gray from head to toe, so no one knew what he looked like, though I had started to hear some rumors about fearsome burns and such. His weapon was a sword as tall and thin as he was. He had been active for about eight months.
I was kind of glad they were late. Olivia would have eaten them alive in seconds. But if she thought her little speech was going to stop me, she was sorely mistaken. Me, I was just sore; having to hike down mountains and to what seemed like the only train station in Russia while healing from getting your ass kicked was a pain in more ways than one. At least they hadn't been chatty. Just a whining Alicia was enough.
If Olivia thought that a few little love taps were going to stop me, well, she would be the one sore... sorely mistaken. This was just a setback, that was all. Still, a promising lead shot was not going to make the Gloom happy.
The train ride back was just as bumpy as it was going in, which was a bit harder to ignore this time; broken ribs always sucked. But finally, we were back at Central, and it was time to enter those massive doors and report in; no doubt I'd be reporting directly to Gloom in less than an hour. I mean sure, I'd sent messages ahead, but this was different.
I really didn't want to go. I didn't, I didn't, I didn't!
“Sasha, quit throwing a tantrum.”
“Up yours Ivan. You aren't going to have to deal with the Gloom.”
Or maybe he was... I wonder.
“No, Sasha, you can't con me into reporting in your stead. You're healthy enough to go, and he'd bother you about it anyway, even if you were half dead.”
What the hell, was Ivan psychic or something?
“No Sasha, I'm not psychic; you're just really easy to read. The reason why you don't play poker with me, remember?”
Oh, yeah.
Alicia spoke up, and I remembered there were three members of your team.
“Nothing to do, but to do it. And no Sasha, you can't throw me under the bus either.”
Damn.
Sarah was in the lobby, as usual for the afternoon shift. She was looking resplendent in her blue uniform, as always, and I wasted no time in presenting myself.
“Morning, Sarah!”
She sighed, and I looked around for a certain gorilla thing, but nope it was only us. In fact, the lobby was nearly deserted, which was unusual.
“Morning Sasha.”
I looked at the sign in sheet, signed it for all of us, and snagged the customary paperwork.
“The Gloom in?”
She shook her head.
“He should be back tonight. He had a mission to complete.”
That was also a little odd. The Gloom just didn't roll for any mission anymore; it had to be a big one. Possibly bigger than the one I just botched.
Sigh. Writing mission failed on the paperwork, in triplicate, was depressing. I turned the crap in, to find Alicia waiting on me; Ivan had already left to do whatever else, but Alicia was like me. She just didn't feel safe without a charge in her generator. The problem was, there may not be much of a charge banked for either of us. I knew I had enough to at least get started, but I wasn't sure about Alicia.
Those hunter who didn't hold at least a little charge in reserve, just in case, didn't live long if they lost, and much to my chagrin, this wasn't my first time tasting that bitter pill. Come to think of it, before Alicia had too.
“Alright Sasha, paperwork is done. Please turn your generators in to the science wing before proceeding.”
Standard operating procedure after a loss, in order to make sure they hadn't been broken in some way that would show up later... or tampered with. I couldn't help but feel the frown she sported was a type of scarlet letter. Then of course she got to who I'd been after; I could tell because her eyes threatened to pop out of her head and she made an 'eep' noise, glancing between the paper to me as if amazed I was still here.
Honestly, it was like she forgot who she was talking to, or something.
With a wave I headed to the dungeon. I could probably get away with hanging onto my generator since the Gloom was out, but with it on the red line there was little point. Luckily my weapons weren't entirely useless without them, so if Central was hit, I'd still be able to get my licks in. I doubted it would happen, since judging from the sign in sheet, we had precious few live witches in residence. There was little to draw a witch here at the moment.
The biometric lock scanned us both in turns, and then a short eternity later the vault door opened, just like normal. The large and drafty sloping corridor was dark as pitch, without even the lights from the lobby penetrating far; this also was normal. What wasn't quite normal was this time we made it all the way down before the head mental case noticed we were there.
A door opened to my left, a rectangle of light that forced me to squint. I could just make out a form in it.
“Ahh, Sasha, Alicia, come in please.”
Once my eyes adjusted, I noticed the door that we stepped through; it was a strange thing, darkened glass powered by some sort of air pump, and with a small decontamination chamber beyond. The other end of the decontamination chamber was open and the pump was clogged with congealed grease, so it wasn't being used. Beyond that were racks, containing empty and full slots. The full slots of course, contained generators by number.
Generators were at one point mass produced, though not anymore; the witches had destroyed much of the world's infrastructure. Most of the ones on those racks were no longer in use; the numbers were painted off when a hunter received the genny and added their own finishing touches, and painted back on again when the hunter died or retired.
It was odd to see the head scientist maintaining the generators themselves; normally a tech would do it. But judging from the parts scattered on one of the lab tables, Emil was indulging in one of the perks of his job; experimentation. I was pretty sure that even without a hat to feed it, generator experimentation should be conducted in a different lab. Namely one that wasn't storing them all, and better proofed against explosions and strange radioactive fallout.
Even worse, he was applying some electricity to the power core wires, as evidenced by the sparks and crotchety hum the thing was emitting.
“Just hang them up on the rack, I'll have someone get to them eventually.”
He went back to poking the generator with a metal probe; the sparks it made were multicolored. Alicia backed up a couple steps, but I forged ahead.
“Can't this time doc. Mission failure, ended in both of us getting knocked out. We need them checked, and a recharge.”
“Oh? Oh. Well crap. That means I have to do it. You both alright?”
The unhealthy gleam in his eyes was back.
“Nope. Need to go to medical after this.”
Medical was actually on the other side, but it could be accessed through a tunnel here. That is, if you were brave enough.
“You need to? I could probably handle it.”
We were brave enough. Looking at Emil's probe thingy, pulled from somewhere, we were brave enough right now. I all but knocked Alicia over.
“No thanks, you're busy, got to go bye!”
The hallway we needed was further into the labs. I headed back up instead, but I totally wasn't running from anyone, no sirree. I also didn't stop at the vault door; Alicia needed prompt medical attention now. When she was lagging behind, the wheeled chair of doom squeaking behind us, I grabbed her. She didn't even complain as we left a cloud of dust behind us.
The other side did not have a vault door, instead it had a pair of glass double doors. The hospital doubled as a community hospital, and for those brave enough to enter, it offered the best health care in the free world. But as usual, when I entered, the waiting room emptied. I didn't really get that; I was a nice guy!
Today was par for the course, though I tried using my best smile, they cleared out in seconds. There were even sheep like bleats of terror. The nurse, who could well be Sarah's sister, pasted a pleasant smile on her face and walked up to us.
“Good day Hunters, Do you need to see a doctor?”
What was it with people and asking obvious questions? Seemed like everyone in any kind of service job did it. Why else would I even be here?
“Yes we do. X-rays, MRI's, all the witchcraft.”
She lifted an eyebrow. She wanted to argue using the most esoteric and expensive tech we had wasn't necessary. But the unspoken rule is, if a hunter orders something, it's necessary; even from doctors and nurses, or other professionals. Of course it could have just been for how I referred to all her devices as hocus pocus too, but she should be used to that joke by now.
“Alright sir, ma'am. Please head along the back hall to room 4 and 5 respectively; I'll free a doctor immediately.”
“Thanks.”
Whistling, I made my way back. I let Alicia take room 4, and I took room 5. Both were the same anyway, a metal bed anchored in the middle of the floor, a sink, a counter with shelves under it, a desk, file cabinets. So what if my ribs still felt like they were going to go through my lungs? They hadn't so far.
I wanted to look for pain medication, now that I was here; most hunters knew most types used or they just weren't trying hard enough. But I also knew the doctors kept that stuff locked up tight and well away from the reach of us; it was just too easy to abuse.
So I hopped up on the bed and waited. I might have swung my feet around in boredom. I might also have played around with my guns in boredom, drawing at various things around the room; it was OK, they were only loaded with normal ammunition and weren't empowered. Worst they could do was maybe put a small hole in the wall; the walls around here were reinforced, like all of headquarters was.
And then I might have fallen asleep.
Or I might have been gassed, I wasn't sure. I had been threatened with such last time; the doctor didn't like me fidgeting. But then, everyone always complained about property damage. Really, I was doing my community a favor, because it gave people something to fix! I was doing my part to provide jobs. Besides, if I had to get into the mindset of avoiding property damage, even the most green of witches would kill me.
At any rate, I woke up strapped down, probably so I wouldn't move during the MRI, though they were loosened and I could move and free myself. I wasted no time on that front, and looked for my guns, which were in a bin on the nightstand. There was also a doctor waiting patiently in a chair in the corner, making no sudden moves. He was an older than myself, but not by much. Tall, dark haired, and handsome, he probably got his pick at the local bars.
I grabbed my guns and checked them; they certainly appeared loaded, but I started reloading them just in case. The anti-tampering measures taken over my ammunition were still in place, so I felt safe to assume it was OK.
“So what's the good word, doc?”
He spoke up immediately.
“Ribs cracked and healing, we put a compression bandage around you to help your breathing. Legs, arms and hands and spine all show evidence of recent fractures, since healed. Brainwaves match the ones you had at your last physical, so no evidence of tampering or mental control. Organs appear to be perfectly healthy, with no evidence of tampering. I'm willing to write you a clean bill of health.”
One time a witch had developed the power to turn people's organs into explosives... she then forced them to march into high priority targets, including hunter headquarters around the world, and detonated them. Since then the doctors had been on the look out for similar things; after all, if it could develop once, it could again.
“Excellent. How long was I out?”
I turned to my copy of the tests done, checking the date of the MRI. It was correct; I wasn't being fooled.
“Just under six hours. I do apologize; when we saw you had fallen asleep, well, we decided to just go on ahead.”
I'm sure it was in my file just how bad I was at taking certain tests, most notably the MRI. I'd had to be sedated before to avoid moving, so I just shrugged it off. The blood test I could do with effort (cause needles always sucked), but the spinal sample thing was something that gave me nightmares. All those test results were here, properly dated and with a doctor's signature at the bottom, as they should be. All the results showed me well within tolerances for active duty.
“Works for me doc, trying to stay still is a weakness of mine.”
I couldn't help but hear his sigh of relief as he slumped his shoulders. Hell, half the hospital probably heard it. I swear, people must be spreading rumors about me or something. I wasn't that bad!
“So how's Alicia?”
He looked surprised as he answered.
“Well she has a bit more recovering to do herself, but she should be fit for full duty in less than a week. She has many bones of her own still cracked, but less tissue damage overall than you must have had.”
True enough, probably. I did heal fast. In this case, too fast.
“Good deal. And doc, this should go without saying but, if asked I didn't ask about her, OK? Got a reputation to maintain.”
He hesitated, then nodded. Even in the deepening gloom he noticed where my hands were. At least the gloom was a normal one, but speaking of which....
“Is the Gloom back yet? Do you know?”
He nodded, finally standing up as I pushed myself fully upright.
“Yes, He returned and asked for you. Then he left orders that you were to meet with him as soon as possible.”
“Right; on the way.”
Still half drugged or wounded was no excuse when the Gloom wanted you.
With a wave I started off, rolling the stiffness out of my joints. On the way out of the lobby (which promptly emptied again) I snagged some coffee to help wake me up. I had it drained by the time I made it up to the Gloom's office. No time for anything stronger.
My soft knock on the door, not loud enough to disturb him if he was busy with something, was immediately answered.
“Come in, Sasha.”
Rats. I was kinda hoping he'd be asleep; it was something I had seen before. I entered, taking note of the other two people in the room. One was Emil, our resident head crazy. The other was some girl I didn't know.
She was smaller than I was, and younger. Perhaps 12 at best. Loose and long blonde hair framed her face, and wide disingenuous cornflower blue eyes took me in. She wore an easy grin that struck me as a twin for Emil's usual; that is to say, unhinged. She set me on edge at first sight; something was wrong here. They all had copies of my test results, too.
“Sasha, this is Merlin, head researcher for North sector.”
North sector? What had she done to be sent to that shit hole? At a glance it was easy to see that the gloom didn't like her, but just that alone wouldn't get her sentenced to that frosty hell. Head researcher? That meant she was the one in charge of... the more unsavory practices the hunters got up to. All of them.
So despite her appearance, this was no little girl in front of me. Good, at least that meant my instincts were still trustworthy.
Merlin shot her superior an annoyed glance then forged ahead with so much brightness forced into her tone that I swore I could feel my teeth decay just from exposure.
“Pleased to meet you, Sasha! I'm so happy to finally be able to be here in person!”
She grabbed my hand and started pumping it, trying to tear it off. Her own hands were cold and dry; reptilian.
“Um, Likewise, I'm sure. Listen, boss, if this is about Russia, I can find her again; I've been thinking, she still has to be there somewhere.”
Russia was a part of the north sector after all; at least where we had been was. And there had been no reports of Olivia on the move. Normally it IS kind of hard to hide a big freakin' dragon, after all. Though that begged the question how she managed to stay hidden before. The Gloom knew an excuse when he heard it, but I didn't care; I didn't fail often, and re-assigning me North was a mistake. I hated the cold.
“That's not what this is about. Sasha, Merlin here has made a request; he has requested we conduct an experiment involving building a better hunter. One who isn't physically tied to a generator. I'm sure you've heard the rumors.”
Another flicker of annoyance from the girl who wasn't. I remembered now, this girl was Merlin, the one responsible for attempting to graft the power of a witch into a hunter, by implanting the generator directly, or so the rumors went. Those same rumors had the body count of those experiments numbering in the hundreds.
“What does that have to do with me?”
The question had been directed to my boss, but the saccharine voice answered.
“It's simple Sasha. I have determined as part of my research into the genetics of witchcraft, that there appear to be those better suited for the process than others.”
Well I could see where this was going, and if not for the Gloom I'd already be out the door.
“My recent investigations into the genetic profiles of our hunter staff revealed you to be a perfect candidate for the process.”
Yep, I hated it when I was right. Like I'd let this demented thing anywhere near my hot bod. Emil was all but leering himself, and he could go walk off a bridge too. I turned to the Gloom, ready to walk if he said the wrong thing; respect or not, he couldn't demand this of me. He looked almost... sad? What the hell?
“It's your choice Sasha. The organization will not force you to do this.”
That was all I needed to hear.
“Then with all do respect, stuff it. Ain't no creepy chick going to mess with me, and that goes double for you, Emil.”
And I walked right out.
I heard some talking, and soon enough the Gloom joined me. But he was alone, at least.
“One more thing, Sasha.”
I waited. He didn't seem pissed off at least; that was a good thing. He slapped a mission folder in my hand.
“No rest for the wicked. You leave tomorrow.”
Damn.
“Don't you have someone else you can send? I was hoping I could get a quick charge and head back to Russia.”
He was already back to his office door.
“I don't. Don't worry about Russia; I'm going.”
Oh wow. I almost pitied Olivia; if she was still there, well, the Gloom was unstoppable; the best hunter since my mentor Sniper died. With a shrug I walked back to my own room, a wing away. I read while I walked, trusting my instincts and reflexes to keep me from bumping into random people and things in my way. It had been a sort of game for me since I first arrived here, years ago. It was only in the last year however that I could manage it without hitting anyone. I wasn't sure if that was my skill coming along or the hunter's inner sanctuary being mostly deserted.
Hmm, looks like I was going to the French coast. Rumors of a... sea witch? Swimming, siren songs, and flying sea slugs? What the hell, they just kept getting crazier.
I threw the file onto my desk with the other old ones; I'd read enough. Name of the city, location, rumors of witchcraft, rumors of powers displayed. All I needed to know. I finally realized that I was still in the white pajamas the doctors had stuck me in for the tests. I was tired, they were clean, so they would work; I'd just repack and all that crap in the morning, when I cared.
This trip was already a clusterfuck. Murphy had french kissed me at some point or something because I wasn't just having a bad day, or even a bad week… I was having a bad year. Not sure what God I had pissed off, but they needed to get over it or something. Maybe it was pissing on that shrine in France….
You couldn't throw a stone without smacking a witch in the forehead with it, nowadays. This one was typical of the breed, all power, and no sense.
Well, I take that back; she didn't really have much power either.
Most of them just had a bit over the average person, some sort of gimmick like fire generation or light control, usually restrained by some rules that humanity didn't know; the great mysteries of our time. Why could that witch turn invisible as a starting trick or spell, and not another? Why did some seem so much more powerful than others?
How did they get their hair to take impossible shapes like that without using any product?
The current witch du jour was an expert at throwing stones. Very large, very heavy stones, thrown at quite a distance – it seemed to be all that she could do based on what we had seen so far, but she did it very well. Which was probably why she took offense to my own stone throwing efforts, regardless of how good my aim was.
I couldn't help myself, though; it was just so tacky. I mean, even if she could toss one ton boulders with her mind, it was still just tossing rocks. Ivan dodged one such rock without even looking at it, lunging and rolling as he locked eyes with me.
“Sasha, next time, can you please not provoke the witch by saying you can throw rocks as well as she can?”
Alicia peeked out from the boulder she was hiding behind, one she had already been forced to dodge herself. I wonder if the witch can pick them back up? If she was hiding that ability, Alicia could be in real trouble down the line.
“The real thing that pissed her off wasn't him saying it. It was him trying to do it by bouncing pebbles off her nose!”
I shot a good size rock, something the size of good bed, with my pistols; just enough force applied to knock the aim off. It almost knocked me off my feet when it plowed down ten feet away… it even skipped once. How had she even managed that? No matter really, the scathing comments of my peers were worth more attention.
“You're both philistines. How dare you step on my hobbies like this? I thought we knew each other!”
Alicia stopped, flat-footed.
“You mean witch baiting is your hobby now?!? You're finally owning up to a practice that could kill us all?!?”
“You worry too much, Alicia. Oh, and rock above your head.”
She cussed and jumped; the catapult sized shot would have pulped her easily.
The witch herself finally hove back into view; she needed line of sight to improve her aim, just like a gunman would. Too bad for her, really.
She was unusual for a witch; oh she was young like most of them (if she was older than fifteen I'd eat her hat), with long hair that looked like she spent too much time in front of a mirror, and classic features no matter how distorted they were. Problem was, her hat was a hardhat, and she missed that cute as a button look she no doubt was supposed to have by a good two vertical feet. Not to mention her biceps alone were probably larger than my waist. She was larger than Alicia! Her clothes were expensive looking, but they were overalls, stained with streaks of dirt and mud. She looked like the very poster of adolescent roid rage, her physique as well suited to throwing rocks as her mind was.
Alicia still had her beat in the beard department though. Her bellow tore through the clearing we had baited her into.
“Hold still, vermin!”
Okay, now that made me mad. Sure, I wasn't some fashion-minded sparkly primpy clothes horse, but I didn't just roll out of bed looking like I had crawled through several sewers – often. I didn't need to be told I looked like a bum from a bum.
“That's my line! Do you even know how you look?”
She chucked another rock at me. Hm, it was curious, she didn't seem to have a familiar. That was yet another mark in the unusual column in her paperwork, if and when I ever decided to fill it out. I dodged idly.
I probably would eventually. In another six months or so. After all, I still had the witches of hunts long past to do. That paperwork had nothing at all to do with my motivation to spend as much time as possible out in the field; none whatsoever. I was a responsible adult, I was.
“Shut up! What does a tiny little cute bitch like you, playing with guns know!?! You probably have guys fawning all over you!”
Wait.
Wait wait.
Hold the phone.
Did that over-muscled blind bitch just say what I thought she said? I looked left, at Ivan, who had been trying to work on getting close, and who was now edging away with a wary eye my direction. To my right was Alicia, already running flat out without even a glance backward; sloppy that, she could get hit that way though I suppose she was aiming for speed.
Huh. So this stupid witch had actually said… that.
I looked over at her; she had two rocks floating on either side of her, ready to fling, and was staring at me. She looked a little nervous… a little scared. Couldn't imagine why.
I dropped the smaller pistols. I really wasn't interested in playing with this stupid bitch anymore. The eagle came out.
“Take these words with you to the afterlife… I am a man.”
The first two shots popped both her rocks as they zoomed in. I was able to see her widening eyes, her disbelief… before the third took her dead center.
I didn't want to damage the hat after all; we needed it. After the debacle in Russia, we were all low on power for our generators.
Alicia peeked out of the treeline while Ivan just shook his head.
“That was clearly overkill. Your expenses are not something I envy.”
True, desert eagle rounds were not cheap; especially the ones I used.
I stared down range, gauging the damage of the shot. It was just a small concave hole in the top of the tree line on the other side of the field. Just a little landscaping; we hadn't even blown up the turf this time. The witch had done more damage.
“I disagree, nothing important died. A witch, some old tree growth. I didn't even hit an innocent bystander or town or anything.”
I heard Alicia mutter something about a first time for everything, but I couldn't have heard that right, could I?
“I'm sorry Alicia, I don't think I heard you correctly. Could you tell me what you said, please?”
She went still, which was just silly. I wasn't a dinosaur. If I was this war would already be over.
“Um, I said I could see the rest of the tree line and everything.”
Hm… that COULD have been what she said; I didn't hear her that clearly. She sagged when I holstered my revolver. It wasn't really pointed at her – or at least not anything she couldn't live without.
“Well, now that was a pleasant diversion, at least.”
It had been, but it was the second such diversion on our way to our mission objective. Cannes, a port and resort city, and the sea witch rumored to have taken up there recently. She was disrupting what little shipping was left, and supposedly feeding residents to octopi or slugs or something. What little of the file I'd read hadn't been too clear, other than to say sea slugs had been sighted.
But the second witch on the way to Cannes, and we were still miles away? It was either a setup, or the jack rabbits were breeding; maybe it meant both. This one had been a new one too, lacking in experience and knowledge; all she had done was throw stones. No invisibility, no fire, no actual spells of any kind cast… just throwing rocks with her massive arms and minuscule mind.
Oh well, the mystery wasn't for me to solve; I just stop 'em.
Alicia and Ivan both came close, proffering their generators as I picked up the pristine if dirty hard hat. The familiar hadn't even shown up when the witch was in danger; that was a little unusual. I linked our generators and fed the hat in; the machinery would do all the work of dividing the power equally. The hat itself would stay in my generator whole, of course, in case it was needed for study. At least until it fully ran out of power and dissolved.
Lately, that sort of thing didn't happen much anymore.
The process itself took a little time, so we all sat down and enjoyed the day; it was beautiful, sunny with a slight breeze coming in, with just a hint of the salt water on it. It wasn't even jacket weather. You could barely hear the train if you tried hard enough to drown it out.
Either way you looked at things, it was a little odd to get word of a witch hanging out close to the train tracks; that was a good way to run into trains. Some of which would eventually be hunter trains. It really was one of the worst places to hang out and mine or whatever this witch was doing, rolling in the mud. So why was she here, and how had anyone gotten wind of her activities? This place was nice, but seemed mostly deserted; the kind of place frequented by idiots seeking to 'get away from it all for awhile' before going back to their cushy city life, free of stress.
Any witch found here, where there were miles to hide in, wanted to be. And found and radioed in with just enough time to stop our train in order to take her out, with her not a mile from the pristine tracks? I smelled a rat. I was smelling a lot of those, these days. This was something that had to go directly to the Gloom. I pulled out my field book, a small leather bound journal that was standard equipment to all hunters.
They looked like diaries and were written as such; some of them were even published occasionally as memoirs… but they all had code that other hunters were taught to decipher, in case of bad things happening. Mine was, as so many had mentioned to me before, depressingly empty… but that was all part of the plan! Real men didn't keep diaries, so of course mine was light on actual writing and details; that's how it should look! It was all to keep up appearances, and had nothing to do with creepy women who really should be focused on men closer to their own age looking through my stuff when I was asleep. Or acted asleep. Acted asleep with all my might.
Sometimes a journal went missing when a hunter died by incineration or something, but the witches had no idea we used them as back ups for secrets… or just didn't care, so most of the time they survived even if the hunter (or even the entire hunter party) didn't.
“Wait, you're writing this one down?”
“Yeah, it's unusual to find one so close to the tracks.”
I couldn't exactly spill all of my concerns where people might be listening, even if they had to be fools for staying near a hunter war zone. Ivan watched me; he would probably follow my lead when back on the train. I don't think Alicia knew how to write, despite her often vocal claims to the contrary.
At least we now had plenty of power for the trials ahead; my generator read out was… One-third?
That was only slightly more than I entered the clearing with. I tapped the gauge with a finger. Ivan disapproved.
“It won't reset itself that way Sasha, it's digital.”
Then he looked at his own, and I saw his eyebrows climb. That confirmed it for me; she really had been weak. Too weak… and nothing of the body left. Despite the strident objections of my many jealous enemies, there often was at least something left to bury once I was done; the human body was notoriously hard to completely disintegrate.
Alicia was clueless as always, of course.
“What are you two idiots grinning about back there? Let's go to town, time's a wasting!”
Of course she did raise a good point; there was good booze in Cannes, and I'd never been there before; I'd never been allowed to go, even when other hunters were vacationing there. I'd always wanted to, but one did not simply out-stare the Gloom.
The train, being one of ours, had waited for us. It was an old steam engine, like most of ours, with one large gun that I could respect on each of the five armored cars. Each one had a gunner of course, and I waved at them as I got back on. The whole thing was over-engineered in my opinion since any large impact could just derail the thing, no matter how massive the wheels were and how they overlapped the tracks.
At least the cars were comfortable, and air conditioned. Well, that and the thing was faster than walking. The internal combustion engine was too risky anymore; there were too few people who even knew how to make fuel for it, and those people were better used in other industries, like mine. After all, fuel didn't really matter if some random hatted maniac killed you before you could burn it. The people who didn't see things that way usually died first.
But regardless of the questions raised, today was a win. We were an hour from good beer, had killed a scourge to humanity, and would likely kill another before the day was out; I just wanted lunch first.
I snoozed a bit on the final stretch and woke just as the train screeched to a stop. It was no hard feat, the thing made enough noise to wake the dead.
The platform was empty of course; the train was very obvious, and people did not hang out near hunter trains unless they were desperate for hunter intervention. Hunters were avoided by the public at large whenever it was possible; we made ourselves targets simply by existing (on purpose) and some who wore the uniform were less than savory characters. Like that pee wee, Dustin. I needed to smack him down again, on general principles, next time I saw him.
In our uniforms, we were treated like the armed train, though it was much easier for us to vanish if we needed to. We were playing bait again, of course. There were those who would talk to us, here. The desperate did exist; along with those who had a tale to tell and wanted to tell it in exchange for a drink or some gold. Maybe even both at once. We needed to find those, they would connect us to the rumor mill, which in cities without some kind of hunter presence (often the first casualty to any enterprising witch, and so not worth trying to maintain) was our main information source.
The first corner booth that promised beer was where the journey of a thousand steps began.
And like many of the best journeys, it began with a nice dark German beer. If witches really wanted to destroy human society, all they really had to do was destroy booze production; we'd kill each other in seconds.
“So, where do we start here?”
Alicia eyed me, as if the very question were offensive.
“Sasha, why are you staring at everything like that? It's unnerving.”
I shrugged.
“Never been here before; sue me.”
“Wait, what? You've never been to one of the best beach towns France has to offer?”
“Was never allowed any down time here.”
“But why….”
Ivan interrupted, probably so I didn't have to. A good thing, since it would have irritated me.
“Morocco.”
The light dawned for her.
“Ahhh... oh. Oh shit.”
Moron. I was surrounded by morons and people who thought witch hunting could be done without leveling real estate. Real hunters knew better. Come to think of it, why had the Gloom sent me here? Most large towns did not want to see me. Hell, there were even wanted posters some places, as if I were some kind of criminal.
In my darker moments, even I had to admit that the chance I'd offend someone in a position of power or influence was likely. I was not the most pleasant of individuals, and I knew it. Cannes was actually still large enough to have it's own army, and a small and elite trained force that styled themselves witch hunters (they hadn't actually killed a single witch that I knew of, their training was lackluster, and they didn't own a single generator). They insisted that they could take care of themselves, loudly and often.
It was almost like they were asking for a witch like Olivia to bump them all off.
But despite all the angry words, they didn't really have any modern or manufacturing facilities left to speak of, which did more to curb witch presence than anything else, and incidentally let them talk big… at least until a witch finally took offense.
That clearly wasn't what happened here, since the town was still standing. I couldn't figure out what the real objective was; I'd have to ask the witch when I found her.
My beer was empty. I ordered another and started in on the lunch of bread, cheese, and fruit. There was no meat, and I could really use some sausage or something, but to get some I'd have to get up and walk to another place, and buy it; I was far too lazy for that. And broke. Mostly it was the being broke thing.
I wasn't allowed direct access to the team expense account anymore. That was also due to Morocco, come to think of it.
Whatever, Morocco was a stupid city anyway.
The entire being obvious thing was our plan here; regardless of the reputation of individual hunters like myself, we could still move here in this large city openly. It was clean, heavily populated, and well controlled, all of which made it easier for the witch to hide, but harder to disappear us. Something was here; something that the witch wanted, or she wouldn't be here… so she won't just pick up and leave when she gets wind of us. No, she will try for the witches' normal plan B.
Lure us somewhere and kill us. And I was just fine with that. After all, if the witch didn't, then how would we find her in all this? This press of happy humanity? People somehow laughing, talking, forgetting about their troubles. How did that even work? Maybe Ivan knew; I could ask him later.
Sigh, I hated waiting.
“Eat your food, Sasha. I know it isn't meat, but you're a growing boy, after all.”
Stupid bearded amazon. I decided to take the high road and ignore her. I didn't really care for the décor, but I was pretty sure the Gloom would do worse than kill me if I failed another mission so soon after the last. Especially since he had to slog out to Russia himself after; he hated snow worse than I did.
After a pretty quiet lunch, at least for us, it was time to find an inn. They called them hotels here, and built them larger, which seemed rather silly to me… but people made up words for things all the time, and I guess this was no different. The hotel we were supposed to be staying at was the “Hotel Marriot”, which had been warned of our arrival and paid in advance. It also happened to be right next to the chapter house of the Cannes witch hunters.
Of course, they didn't know we knew that. Our intelligence network was pretty good, and theirs wasn't.
To the outside, it simply looked like a combination police station and firehouse, with the firemen housed within, for rapid response or something. Our official contact within the city was supposed to be there, and we were supposed to contact them immediately upon arrival.
Whoops.
But unknown to them, Wisp and her team had managed to get inside, snoop around past half asleep sentries and blissfully slumbering special troops, and catalog all the different arms and armor in the 'firehouse'. She even took copies of every document in the place, including their training manuals. She was doubled over and in tears, describing it to me.
I REALLY wanted my own copy to laugh over.
Wisp and her team may not be much in a straight fight, but they usually managed to scout out more intel on witch movements and more general intelligence than anyone else. She was also the oldest witch hunter that I knew of; she might be the longest surviving one, but it was hard to tell when most people seemed to follow my advice when writing file updates. Not that I could throw stones for that… it was clear I had started a movement. Down with the Proletariat! Whatever that was!
The streets were by no means clear, but for us they might as well have been; one look at the weapons, at the uniforms, and we were given as wide a berth as the road and crowd allowed. A few stopped outright, hesitant. Those were the ones that might have something to tell us. Or just wanted to talk to us for some reason. Or at worst, possible groupies; Wild hunt groupies were weird.
In true team Marksman fashion, we decided to check into the hotel first. The official contact could wait. They might even have to wait until we had another beer or three. But no, if I tried to do that, Ivan would mother hen us; best just stick to checking in.
We hadn't crossed half the lobby before a porter met us, wheeling a cart.
“Right this way, sirs, madam. Your rooms are on the fourth floor, as requested, and I will show you to them. May I take your bags?”
A warning look from Ivan, and I stifled myself. Must be nice, and not cause an international incident.
“No thank you. I'll carry them myself.”
A step around him, and he interposed himself between me and the front desk again.
“Alright sir, please follow me to your rooms.”
He took two steps and looked back to see if I was following. I wasn't.
“Alright, I'll give you one chance. Prove it.”
He paled as he noticed where my hand was.
“P-prove what, sir?”
“Prove that you are, in fact, a bellhop or porter or whatever you call it, taking us to our rooms. It's pretty obvious you don't want us to go over to the front desk, and that's a bit unusual, wouldn't you agree?”
I didn't want to go over there either, really. That line was long. It was the middle of the day, for crap's sake!
He proved who he was the best way he could; he held up three keys so that we could clearly make out the hotel logo stamped on them. 408, 410, and 412. I eased my hand away from my pistol; people had tried to fool us before using plants, but it appeared today was not the day for it. Well, either that or the plot was more involved.
The nervous man led us through the halls and up the back stairs. This hotel did have an elevator, but I wasn't sure it worked. None of us would trust it anyway; not after Brussels. We traveled in silence, and people encountering us in the halls shrunk back against the walls. The rooms were right next to each other of course, and I snagged a key from the guy. It was for 408. I positioned myself next to the door and tried it; it worked.
Nothing immediately jumped out from the open door, and I saw no tripwires. That didn't preclude a trap in the other rooms, but it made it less likely at least.
The porter's hand wasn't any more closed the first time; I managed to swipe the other two keys and pass them out. Alicia and Ivan pulled my trick while I covered them; I didn't actually pull my pistols, but with my hands resting on them my draw time was fast enough not to matter. It was probably a good thing that not many people knew that for sure, come to think of it.
The entries came up clear, and Ivan went through the rooms one by one, while Alicia covered him inside and I kept an eye on our porter and the hall. We did all this silently, Ivan was best with traps, Alicia was best in close quarters combat, and I was best at range; we all knew our roles without needing to ask.
The rooms checked out on all counts. Ivan coughed, and pointed to the porter, who was oddly enough still waiting patiently.
“You're still here?”
“Uh, Sasha...he's waiting for a tip.”
A tip, huh? The time-honored tradition of people in the service industry everywhere. Well, I wasn't heartless, I could help out a fellow wage-slave.
“Alright, a tip… don't drink any milk; stuff is nasty. Stick to beer.”
Slamming the door in his face so I wouldn't have to see it, I tossed my bag into a chair and went to the 'washroom', as it declared itself with a gold plated sign on the door. Giving out advice to those in need was one thing, but money? That stuff was costly!
I could probably do with a bath or something similar to wash the dirt off and crap, but I really didn't feel like it. So it was probably best to finally deal with our official contact so we could go see the sights, or swim at the beach, or whatever it was people did here. I trapped the windows, all two of them, and nodded approval over the view; there were no close buildings obstructing the view of the streets facing this side of the building.
I walked out, adjusting my pistol belt, to find the porter thankfully gone, and my team waiting, their own bags dropped off. I set my usual traps on the door, and so did they. Then we used the other advantage this room arrangement had for us; the back fire escape. From there it was a simple skip across a busy street to the 'firehouse'.
Right inside the door, a tall thin man in a uniform was leaning against the wall, hands crossed in front of him, tapping his foot impatiently. I was pretty sure that was our contact in Cannes since he looked so much like the picture I had been given when I was told to watch for a contact at the train station….
Oops?
Let's see, I had been given a name too, what had it been… Natalie? No, it's a guy. Norton? No, didn't sound right. Nathan, yeah that was it! Nathan Bon-something. Bon-bon?
He lurched off the wall upon spotting us, stalking over.
“You are late, hunters.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, the train got delayed when were tasked with finding a...”
He cut me off, the rude frog.
“I am not referring to that incident, which was called in by your conductor and duly cataloged. I refer to the train station, in which I waited by your train for over thirty minutes before….”
And he cut himself off after pulling himself up in front of us. He really was a rude frog. I started paying more attention, realizing he was staring directly at me with wide eyes and a lopsided grin. I decided to restart him, hoping it would prevent him from saying anything stupid.
“Thirty minutes before….”
“Thirty minutes before realizing that of course a beautiful young lady like yourself would want to remain unseen before refreshing herself at the deluxe hotel room provided. So I came here to wait for you….”
And he blew it.
“Sasha, no, you can't kill him!”
Alicia had my arms locked upwards; some sort of hold that kept me from drawing. I was getting careless, apparently. That and the team prediction thing we depended on was too good, at least for stuff like this. Well, I had more cards to play; I went limp.
“Come on Alicia, let me go. I'll only maim him a little, I swear.”
Alicia looked at Ivan while the frog paled.
“What is the matter? What is going on?”
The idiot didn't even realize. Not only did he need his eyes checked, but his accent was stupid.
“No Alicia, he is not to be trusted on this. Berlin, remember?”
Alicia nodded and tightened her grip, the traitor. I needed to start carrying boot guns or something; those would be much harder for her to restrain. Ivan turned to the idiot frog.
“As for you sir, you just insulted the Sasha Norre, the 'Marksman'.”
“The maniacal marksman…? But why would such a ravishing creature be insulted by compliments to her beauty?”
I snarled. Maybe if I lunged, I could bite him to death. The gorilla held firm, with gorilla strength.
“I'm a guy, you blind jackass.”
He blinked. Then blinked again.
“But how… no. I refuse to believe it; it cannot be!”
Ivan stepped in front of me, forcing a break in eye contact with my target. I tried to look past him, but he put his index finger on my nose. I HATED that, it made me look and go cross-eyed every time.
“Sasha… listen to me, Sasha. You absolutely cannot kill this man. We need him. So until we no longer need him, we need you to be the consummate professional we know you to be. Can you do that Sasha? The Gloom is counting on us to handle this.”
Right. Consummate professional, that's me, so of course, I could do it. I relaxed and straightened up.
“Fine, no killing. I won't even maim him; happy?”
At least not yet. Ivan signaled the gorilla, and she let go. Ivan was watching my shoulders warily. It was the best way to tell if a trained gunslinger was going to draw in time to react, and Ivan knew he wouldn't be able to see my hands move unless I let him.
“Yes, I'm very happy. Alicia is happy too. Aren't you, Alicia?”
Even though I wasn't looking at her, I could sense her nod in the whiff of displaced air; it was that enthusiastic.
“Very happy. No sadness here, nope!”
“Excuse….”
The frog was trying to talk? That was fine, I was very interested in what it had to say. I profiled left and Ivan moved with me, staying in front while coincidentally stomping on a foot that wasn't his. Hm, I could probably put a shot through the toes, and blow that foot off without hurting Ivan at all, but… no, I was a consummate professional, and would not risk it. No killing or maiming… yet.
I put my hands in my coat pockets. It would lag my draw time by perhaps two-tenths of a second, so it was more for show than anything else, but both Ivan and Alicia knew what it meant; it meant I wouldn't be starting a war of extermination… yet.
It looked like the frog finally realized how close he had come to death; Ivan finally unveiled the fool and his blood seemed to be pooled around his shoes. Maybe he was finally remembering that pissing off hunters was a bad idea. The first words from his mouth and the deep bow from the waist seemed to support that:
“I humbly apologize for offending you; it was not my intention, and I am deeply sorry.”
Well, apologies were good. I'd also taking pissing himself in fear, but this was almost as good as that.
“Apology accepted. So… tell us what you know.”
He straightened up and beckoned us back into the depths of the building. I guess the lobby really wasn't the best place to hold a debriefing like this. Especially a lobby filled with staring people; I snarled at them and they hurried back to whatever work they were busy with before, or at least made it look like they were. I didn't really care, as long as they weren't staring at me; staring at me led to other less savory things.
We made it to a conference room without further incident, and he gestured at us to sit down, so we each took a chair. He remained standing, pacing in front of us, which really wasn't the smartest thing he could have done, but I was a consummate professional, and could ignore it.
“The situation is this: two weeks ago, a girl came to the city, openly wearing a hat. She walked down Rue d'Antibes, taking in the sights like any tourist until confronted by a team of our chasseurs. When asked if she was a witch, she responded in the affirmative, and was promptly engaged; she fled in response.”
We were still in Russia during these events. Speaking as a consummate professional, the decision to engage a witch in the middle of the city was a bad one; it could have easily turned into a bloodbath if she fought. We were trained to try and draw witches away from population centers if possible and they normally did their best to force as many casualties as possible. Having one go willingly was a welcome switch, and so was having one run.
Well, I mean, they ran from us, sometimes. From a second rater french national team? I didn't buy that it was from fear. I don't think the french did either; he looked too angry about this.
“The team followed the witch out to the beach, along the west. The spotter reported they followed her over two miles, whereupon the witch slaughtered the entire team.”
Well, that would explain why he looked so constipated; he continued.
“Another three teams were dispatched, and the spotter reported they were waylaid by another witch while traveling to the site the first witch was last seen, and wiped out. The witch that performed the ambush rose from the sea and a host of sea creatures rose with her, including giant slugs. Also with her were several witches. Once her grim work was done, she sought out the spotter and conversed with him, in order to make it clear that she knew he was there.”
Interesting.
“Two questions for you. What is a spotter, and what did she say?”
“A spotter is a lookout of sorts. Their job is to watch the battle from hiding, with as much distance away as possible, and report on events either missed by the team on the field, arrange reinforcements if needed, and report the fate of a team and how they were overcome if necessary.”
Well, their spotter had definitely not been a consummate professional, if arranging reinforcements was in the job description. The Hunt hadn't used anything similar in decades… we didn't have the manpower. We would if we could, but we didn't get too many recruits; stupid organizations like this tended to get all the manpower they wanted. Then, of course, they lost them doing stupid things, like sending small teams of poorly trained fools when they could flood a place with numbers.
Of course, flooding a place with numbers hadn't worked for the armies of the old countries, a few centuries ago. I was no historian, but the only time armies took the field against the witches, the witches won by cooperating. Then they picked off the world leaders responsible for the army, one at a time. The only good news from that was they weren't playing nice with each other anymore. Well, that and those witches that had fallen in the battle had left hats. The first hats used in the first generators, which started The Wyld Hunt rolling.
It took awhile, but we had gotten our revenge.
“So the spotter is how you know so much, got it. Where is this spotter? I'd appreciate hearing the report first hand.”
The frog frowned.
“Spotter Lachance is currently on assignment, unfortunately. Perhaps if those duties allow it will be possible at a later date.”
Even more interesting; the spotter was being kept from us, perhaps? Did they intend this frog to be the only point of contact?
“Alright, anything else? Did your spotter positively identify the witch, or get a direction on where she went? Anything to point us in the right direction?”
Please tell me you aren't that incompetent as to have nothing. Please please please…. He frowned again.
“We did not positively identify the witch in question though she both came from and returned to the sea. Of the first witch, there has been no sign, though others have, unfortunately 'popped up', as it were, occasionally. Like the one that made an appearance earlier today, harassing the rail lines.”
Well, if witches were beginning to cooperate again, that could be bad. This really was something we needed more than one team for, much as I didn't like it. Multiple witches in the area, working together? I was going to have to dust off my radio protocols. The frog unrolled a map of the area, which helpfully had little red dots marked on it.
“These are the sightings of witches in the days since, marked by position and date. As you can see, there are over ten of them, a different one and different place each day. The encounter is always the same; the witches either make an appearance just long enough to be seen, or appear and snatch a person seemingly at random, then make an escape. It is only a media blackout keeping the city from erupting in riots or a mass exodus of refugees; the population thinks all the attacks are attributed to the sea witch.”
I knew the answer, but I had to ask the question anyway.
“Alright, the times the witches didn't take people, what was different?”
“The suspect the difference was the number of people making the sighting. In the four cases, the witch in question did not kidnap a person, only one or two people were present to witness the presence of the witch.”
Yep, I hate being right.
“So they are calling you out, specifically. Any link at all among the kidnapped people?”
Ten sightings, four without any visible goal, that left six people kidnapped unless the witch took more people.
“None that we can determine. The files are there, but among the missing are a young shepherdess, an old man here to convalesce, and a merchant here to sell cheeses.”
There were files under the map, but reading that was for suckers… like Ivan. The map itself had three red marks with orange circles over them. I tapped one while motioning Ivan to take up the files. He rolled his eyes but picked one up anyway.
“What are these?”
“Positions where a team got lucky enough to be close when a witch appeared. Or rather unlucky enough; each time a team found a witch, they engaged her. All three times the witch managed to escape, and there were always… casualties.”
I read the map notations. Each site a witch had fought one of their teams, there had been a kidnapping. One of their own being kidnapped, and they were covering it up perhaps? That was likely; I wondered if they had tried a rescue. The red marks seemed to concentrate along the beach to the west, which was a sign even a blind man could follow.
In the end, it came down to the generators. There just weren't enough to go around, and they were hard to manufacture; especially now. It was almost like the witches could detect the places behind the generator's manufacture, but even for my paranoia that was a bit much. After all, if they could, they would just hit Central and wipe the Hunt out. We were behind most of that, now.
Come to think of it, the main reason they probably didn't was it would require a level of cooperation the witches no longer possessed to hit our stronghold. Those powers on the other side, the big four, hated each other more than us. Except now, some witch was showing it. Some random witch who had managed to inspire loyalty among their insane loner ranks.
Reporting in just became a priority, the more and more we heard. If I was right in this, if the data was correct, then Humanity was in imminent danger.
People would be surprised that I knew that word, imminent. But I was a consummate professional.
I really wanted to say screw it, and sleep in the train. While making the gunners stay up; they at least would give us warning. We would have next to none in the hotel. The numbers against us were bad; easily the worst, even if the witches all sucked… and I doubted that.
“Alright. Anything else?”
My voice was steady. Just another day at the office for us.
The frog gaped for a moment.
“No, that is all we have.”
“Alright, we'll take it from here. I need you to do two things for us. One, get your spotter here, I want to talk to them. I don't care what they are doing or why, just get them here. You have until we get back.”
We needed first-hand accounts, as many as possible. We needed to know who and what we were actually dealing with; not knowing what a witch could do, or how experienced she was, would kill us as fast as any half-trained team. The frog nodded as we all stood up. Ivan snagged the files, and sensitive or not, the frog did not object when faced with us walking out with them; whatever we did now, the blame was on us.
“And the other thing?”
I worked hard to suppress a grin; necessary as it was, revenge was sweet. Especially petty revenge, but I was a consummate professional.
“I need to know how many personnel you have left that are combat capable. How many teams, what their training and fitness level is, their strengths and weaknesses. We may end up requisitioning them.”
He spluttered.
“Requisi…. You can't! You can't just…!”
I stopped and held up a finger, stopping him just short of laying filthy hands on me.
“I can if you want our help. I do have the right to refuse jobs I feel are too dangerous to my team,' - even though I never had before – 'and this one could well qualify.”
We walked out and he didn't follow. He knew we had him by the balls. On the way out of the 'firehouse' we had quite the audience of whispering people, watching us leave; it seemed that word had gotten around among their version of us. I didn't mind, because that allowed us the chance to study them in turn. I wasn't all that impressed, but didn't say so; whatever else they didn't have (like proper training or common sense) they had guts.
Ivan leaned over as soon as we were out of the place and whispered in my ear.
“So what's the plan, boss?”
Guess he was rattled by what I said back there; we'd never refused a job before. I grinned at him, and he somehow relaxed and tensed again at the same time.
“Same thing it always is. Come on, we got a call to make.”
No plan survives contact with the enemy – and boy did we ever have contact.
There were six witches here. Six! If asked yesterday on our chances of finding six witches in the same region and not murdering each other, I'd have said less than zero. Yet here they were, trying their absolute best to kick my team's ass in what could only be called a coordinated attack.
It was really too bad they were weak as hell.
One worked hard to cover the blind spot of her friend, using her rather silly water manipulation to try and make a shield. She was dark skinned and dark haired… and then she was painted red. Her shield had splattered a heartbeat before she did; it offered no resistance to my shot at all. The one she was covering was throwing stone, like the one we met yesterday. It looked like her, too.
Twins sharing the exact same power were unusual in the extreme.
Ivan managed to put a dagger in the eye of one, a rather hefty witch wearing a viking helmet of all things, and carrying a hammer. The helmet clearly needed better eye protection. As she went down (with an earthshaking thud) a thin twig of a girl who couldn't be over 12 fired some sort of liquid fire at him over the freshly made corpse.
He barely ducked it in time. Alicia was doing better, her whip latched onto one blonde in a dress that looked like it had been expensive before it was reduced to muddy rags, and she was using that witch to batter another witch into the turf; one of the witches we had seen in the files I had been forced to read yesterday.
They had numbers, and moved to cover each other like a hunter team did, but what they were lacking was strength. Other than the twin throwing rocks at us, the other witches were barely a problem; they couldn't hit us. It was almost funny, really.
“Sasha, to your left!”
I barely turned my head, just enough to confirm there were no kids in the line of fire, and put three shots into a slip of a girl with claw hands; she went down with a screech kind of like a teakettle's. Whether she would stay on the ground was anyone's guess. I fanned right with my right handed pistol and caught the witch in the muddy dress as she flew past; Alicia had either gotten sick of using her as a club, or she had gotten free on her own.
They weren't acting like witches in another way; they were fighting to the death rather than fleeing. I was more than happy to oblige, but something was off, here. I also intended to revisit the decision the Gloom had made regarding me not being allowed a mini-gun. At least you didn't have to reload a mini-gun as often, and the weight was a fair trade off for the firepower. Really, if he'd just let me have one, I'd find a way to carry it!
I reloaded while running right, away from the main melee; the rock thrower saw me, but missed. Then I was back in, snapping off head shots.
Honestly, with the forces arrayed against us, we really should have been pressed more; instead we just cleaned house. Oh, it took some effort, but compared to Russia? To her? On second thought, I probably shouldn't use Olivia as a benchmark for judging difficulty.
“Ivan, Alicia, New kid, you alright?”
Ivan and Alicia both gave me a yes, while the new kid – the much vaunted spotter we'd heard all about yesterday – gave me a glare.
“My name is Wendy, as you well know, Mr. Sasha.”
Wendy was younger than I was, which was unusual for people not in the hunt. It was almost like the French misunderstood why hunters were seldom over twenty. She looked like a little girl, a waif one might find on the streets or an orphanage asking for more porridge. She didn't wear a hat at all of course, even in full combat gear; no sense in tempting fate. I had taken one look at her and shaken her down for one, and she had gotten all huffy.
I didn't find one, and when Alicia had stripped her completely she hadn't blanked on us.
“Whatever.” If she could be backtalk, she was fine.
“Look, Mr Sasha, shouldn't we be getting in contact with the other teams? We were just attacked, they should know.”
“Just a moment, new kid.”
She also liked protocol, which was just adorable.
The bodies of the witches were doing something weird; they were melting. Old movies lied to us; witches corpses acted like normal human ones after they died. They decomposed, and stank, and made a mess. These were making the mess a little early by becoming some sort of green snot. I watched next to Ivan, a little bemused.
I turned to the new kid.
“This normal, here?”
She blushed and stammered.
“O-of course not! I've never seen anything like this before!”
I hadn't either, but witches were weird. All the slime seemed to be flowing in the same direction – towards the ocean. Even shooting it just made it reform and start out again. So I started following.
“Sasha, what are you doing? Shouldn't we, you know, not do something like that?”
I watched the mess bubble as it flowed uphill.
“Shouldn't we wait for reinforcements?”
I turned to look at Alicia. Was she stupid or something? She knew damn well that reinforcements weren't coming. I had made the call, and the nearest team currently on a job and days away. The nearest french team was currently being attacked; we had heard the panic in the radio chatter, even if I couldn't understand the words. Wendy didn't seem too torn up about it, so I wasn't worried yet.
So far, this early morning scouting expedition wasn't a success. I really think we needed to follow the slime. We could always go ahead and bail the french out later, but this was a clue now, clearly oozing away from us.
“Wendy.”
She zipped to my side so fast I could suspect her of using powers, if she had a hat, standing at attention and saluting. “Yes, Mr. Sasha?”
“Status on the other teams?”
“All engaged, Mr. Sasha, but fighting well. So far there are few casualties and no deaths. It seems the highest number of witches was sent to us.”
And if I remembered the grid assignments correctly, the nearest french team was a bit over six kilometers that way. To the other side, the nearest team should be in between seven and eight… the fight caused us to drift a little from our course, as fights are wont to do. Still, it was the french.
“Have they called for help yet?”
Wendy, still standing at attention, shook her head. Well if they haven't called for help, then we should probably follow the slime. So I started off, my team right behind me. Wendy soon shook herself out of attention and started doing her job too, scouting ahead of us.
I had asked for Wendy; survivors of witch attacks, especially lone survivors, always made me nervous. Normal people didn't manage to escape often unless they were allowed to. Plus, she was simply too perky to be normal.
We lost the goo very close to the beach. The beach wasn't a very nice one here, it was full of slick rocks and gull shit. You'd think green slime would stand out, but it didn't.
Wendy held up her radio; she had been looking for a way down. She ran back, eyes wide.
“Mr. Sasha, sir! There's a team not two kilometers away, they were chasing a witch they had routed, and they ran into another one! They are requesting reinforcements!”
Hm, there had to be a cave around here, or maybe a ship or something….
“Mr. Sasha?”
“Yeah, yeah, let's go. Lead on.”
She took off, and boy could she run.
Ivan jogged up as I picked up the pace myself, with a lopsided grin.
“I think she likes you, Sasha.”
I snorted.
“Please, she's like 14. Don't be a creeper.”
His grin just widened.
“She's older; your age, and you know it as well as I do. But still, she seems to have quite the crush on you, eh? Always looking at you, even during fights.”
Ah, so that was what this was about. Well, that and the chance to joke at my expense. He'd noticed her watching, more than she maybe should. Yeah, I could deal with that; I already had my suspicions. Lone people just didn't survive witch attacks.
And of course, the French wanted to prove me wrong on that, not even ten minutes later. The sounds of combat drew us in, to where a lone Frenchman in their special forces armor was trading shots with two older women, witches with actual lines etched into their beautiful faces. The first was using what appeared to be conjured wood as javelins while the second looked familiar….
Oh come on! I call bullshit. No way this many witches had identical twins with similar or identical powers, not without the Hunt hearing about it. Something was clearly up. In this case it was the twin of one of the witches I knew well from an earlier hunt. She was blue eyed and blue haired, and always stood out in a crowd. Despite that and her obvious old style pilot's helmet hat, she had yet to be caught, because she had some form of air manipulation as her go-to power. Kasthir was her name, and she had gotten away from other hunters simply because her ability to fly was without peer.
The Gloom hadn't let me try; I had been busy with the blood witch in Bavaria when Kasthir had vanished, months ago. Right now, she was doing a fair impression of a natural disaster, spinning localized tornadoes up with her feet, then releasing them, but she looked OLD. I'd seen drawings and paintings of Kasthir, and even a rare picture, and she couldn't have been older than 25. Here she looked a solid mid 40's, for some reason.
She was also missing a lot more than normal for her, given the reports I'd made other people read to me. It could all be perfectly innocent… but something was up; I could smell it, and it only got more rank with each passing moment.
I rang us in, my shots on target, and wood javelins about to kill our new friend exploded, probably only horribly maiming him with splinters instead. The witches didn't even turn before moving; that kind of combat awareness was unusual, even in veterans, and it threw Ivan's aim off.
But instead of keep up the attack, the witches started to retreat, running flat out.
Which seemed to make sense at first glance, as they were now outnumbered and may even be outgunned. The problem was, they were against me. I had no issues shooting them in the back. The flying witch dodged of course, somehow either having eyes in the back of her head or a guardian devil watching her back. The wood conjuring one wasn't as lucky; she lost the use of both arms.
She went to goo as soon as her face hit the dirt; I didn't even get the chance to answer questions.
The slime was gone quickly; by the time I got to where I'd downed her, there wasn't even a drop to sample.
I had a sneaking suspicion tickling the back of my mind. If I uttered it loud now though I was pretty sure all kinds of shit would hit the fan.
“Any of the other teams in trouble?”
I checked. The guy we'd managed to reach was still alive and mostly in one piece. Wendy's face as she listened to him jabber didn't give me much hope for his team, however. I got back in hearing range and she came running up.
“Mr. Sasha, sir, Team 4 is wounded about a kilometer back that way. Marco was just telling me it's really bad, and we should go back and check on them! We are the closest team, and I have medical training, and….”
I had to cut her off. Just too excitable.
“Lead the way.”
She took off with a squee sound; even Alicia rolled her eyes as we moved to follow. I gestured to Ivan to help the French guy… Marco, I guess his name was. Normally I'd already be off chasing the witch, and Alicia or Ivan would be doing the first aid thing, but splitting up here would get us killed, and going after Kasthir would have us run headlong into an ambush; I was sure of it.
For a wonder, one of Marco's team, a tall statuesque blond, was still alive. Of course, she was alive with about a foot of wooden javelin in her guts, but it was something. Alicia lifted her a little bit while I cut the javelin so it wasn't pinning her; removing it would have her leaking things she'd rather keep. Ivan was making a stretcher.
I let Alicia do the bandage work while I cornered Wendy.
“So, where are the other teams now?”
“Pulling back. All the other teams have taken casualties.”
For once, she sounded less than chipper; it was refreshing in a way.
“Fatalities?”
She nodded, cradling her earpiece.
“Three, with possibly two more expected, including Delilah.”
Delilah must be the blonde. Well, I didn't think we'd lose her, but her fighting days were probably over. What that really meant was that all cohesion was gone; instead of a strike force sent in to surround our enemies in a wide net, we had been reduced to small teams trying to stay alive and get out of the hot zone.
If the witches were inclined, they could make this as bad a disaster as Paris had been. The only question was, how badly were they hurting?
“How many scored witch kills?”
“Five teams, Sasha sir. A total of Seven witches downed by the other teams in addition to ours, and no prisoners.”
That was pretty unusual too. When witches went up against teams that didn't have something like our generators, the fights that we had stacked in our favor generally became a slaughter. In some cases not even painstakingly manufactured high explosives were enough; so why were the numbers skewed more like a series of seasoned Hunt teams at work?
Again, I had a theory; it was the kind of theory that warmed the heart even as it left everything else cold.
We hiked Delilah out of there, and were not attacked on our way out, something that pointed at a hidden weakness somewhere, just out of sight. After all, I'd be doing it, if I could.
It didn't matter. I knew that whatever was going on, the witches involved feared a proper Hunt team getting past that beach. So that beach was where we had to go. Fighting a seeming army of witches for just the three of us wasn't really an option, which was annoying; our generators would probably run dry before we got anywhere. So we would have to get sneaky, somehow.
Alicia would throw a fit; she still refuses to talk about the last time we had to get sneaky. But just doing my normal thing was going to get us buried in witches, I was sure of it.
Delilah managed to hang on all the way back to the staging area, which was untouched. They had carts for the wounded and we dumped her in one, next to her groaning comrades.
Well, we were gentle about it.
Covering the wagon train on it's way out was boring; even then there wasn't an attack. I was counting minutes. When nothing showed up to jump us even with the city in view, I gave up any hope of more excitement. A signal and my team got close.
“Generator charges?”
Alicia made a show of looking at hers. “Still good. 32 percent.”
Ivan didn't. “30 percent.”
I frowned. They had more than I did; I was sitting at 28 percent. With this many witches against us? Well, they hadn't left hats behind, so they weren't real witches. There, I admitted it, the French had been fooled; big surprise.
“We need to leave this mess behind, and get to the train.”
The train was the only place I was sure was clear of listening ears. Ivan knew something too, I could see it in his eyes. Alicia just looked like she wanted to raid the liquor cabinet. Which, come to think of it, was not a bad idea.
Of course, the moment we broke off from the very obvious procession that every citizen was staring at, Wendy noticed.
“Where are you going, Mr. Sasha sir?”
“Got to call in at headquarters. Radio in the train.”
I really didn't; hunter teams were always on their own in the field, but I'd requested the train stay, just in case, since we had no reinforcements. The Gloom had been off on some policy meeting with his peers, but I'd been promised the use of the train for 24 hours, barring an emergency. That time limit was running out.
Wendy was following us.
The train was right where we left it, and I waved to the gunners as I walked up, giving the signal to forbid entry as I went inside. The bar was right to one side of the door, and I didn't waste time. Still, Alicia almost knocked me out of the way with her fat self.
“Watch it, fatty.”
“Shut up, wimp.”
Ivan facepalmed.
“Can't you two just stop? The bar is big enough for all three of us.”
I made a point of looking at the bar; it could fit ten people, easily.
“Maybe so, but Alicia takes up two stools, and hogs all the tequila.”
Alicia got in my face, probably to give me a taste of her toxic breath.
“Two stools?!?! I'll have you know I don't weigh a kilo over 70!”
She almost made two of me, so I told her so. Before we could really get going, a voice interrupted us.
“E-excuse me, Mr. Sasha, sir?”
It was Wendy. On the train; without holes in her. How in the hell did she get on the train? I pulled Wendy inside and she squawked. A quick glance outside revealed both gunners were still there, looking out at the cleared platform. They didn't notice me.
“How did you get on the train, Wendy?”
she looked confused.
“I walked?”
Something was very wrong here.
“You should have been shot on approach.”
I had to put a finger in my ear to clear it after her screech.
“WHAT?!? WHY?!?”
“Because that's standard operating procedure for unknowns trying to get onboard our trains. That's why the people in the station are very careful about what platforms they get near. Didn't your buddies tell you?”
“No, I… I just thought everyone else was being superstitious or something.”
“Nope. Well, at least not entirely.”
“Ivan, Alicia, watch her.” I started through the car. Something was wrong here. I'd get Alicia to back me up, but she was still more interested in the tequila than anything else. I sipped my own beer as I strode along; rear gunner first.
There was someone in the final car. Someone else who wasn't my team.
It was Vivian Lachance, the spotter who we'd interviewed. The one we'd already vetted, and hadn't had a witch hat, the one who'd been on all the missions the French had lost before we'd got here. She was a bit bigger than me, (though not taller!) and well built. Her brown hair was short, and had highlights. She was pretty – but her grin was a little too wide, her blue eyes a little too flat, right now.
Vivian had also been inspected at my insistence and bore the strip search under Alicia's watchful eye with pride. Then she had requested she be the spotter for my team as we went into the forest searching for the witches she'd seen. When I told her no, she tried to insist. I insisted back, and she was benched, left at the French firehouse/base under a few watchful eyes. Something about her had just rubbed me wrong.
So what was she doing here, alone? What exactly were the gunners doing?
“Hello, Sasha.”
“Vivian. Mind telling me how you're not dead, right now?”
She smiled; kind of like my smile when I'm drawing down on a witch.
“Silly Sasha, you know that already, don't you?”
I gave her my own grin and drew. She moved as if she were boneless, twisting around my (low power, I didn't want to get billed for another wrecked train) shots as if they were obvious. Maybe they were, to her; she was fast. She might even be faster than me.
Nah; the return slash from an arm that was now sporting a blade made of water was so slow I was able to just lean back. It was like she couldn't pull off the same speed on the attack… or she was toying with me.
I HATED being toyed with.
Water was spilling down from the gunners nest, dragging a uniform down the ladder. That kind of explained a few things.
The enclosed space wasn't really suited to my combat style. But then again, fire extinguishers were my friend, at least in this case. We had the chemical foam kind, which worked much better than simple compressed water for putting out fires. I put two shots in the one behind her, and it sprayed her in the back as I dodged another swipe.
Turns out she didn't like that.
The slashing sped up; I had to move my beer bottle out of range twice before I could drain it; I flipped the empty at her head, and she dodged that as easily as the shots that followed by twisting around me. Four shots left in my left gun, five in my right, and she was too close to get a good shot out of either. Some racket broke out behind me.
“Sasha, we got a problem!”
I shook my head as I threw myself backward.
“No shit!”
My back wasn't stopped by water Vivian; there was some resistance but I broke through it. I was honestly surprised I wasn't cut to ribbons, Hunt armor or not, but it seemed the foam had done more than slow her down; it had made her lose her edge. Heh.
I managed to get through the door and shut it in her face, buying me a second or two. There was a fire extinguisher in each car, so that was something; but the first one she took didn't seem to hurt her all that much.
“You okay up there, Ivan, Alicia? Fighting water or something else?”
The yell came back as the door in front of me was split in half.
“We're alright, and yes! Ivan, Wendy and I are fighting some sort of water person! It looks like Vivian!”
Good, Wendy didn't seem to actually be a part of this. Well, either that or she was biding her time. Water started to flow in between the door halves, and I shot it; she couldn't really dodge that. It didn't seem to inconvenience her at all but she took her sweet time reforming.
“The fire extinguishers work a little. Got one back here too, ate the gunners somehow.”
Probably dripped down from the ceiling and then ate them, or something.
Vivian reformed and sent a blade arm my way, sending the other when I was out of room; I ended up having to do a handstand on one of the seats to dodge that one. We needed to get off the train; any more damage to it and Gloom would bill me!
Vivian blocked the door with an arm that sprouted blades… so, next car over, taking care to duck under the other arm. Could she only use her arms to attack?
I shut the door on her bladed foot, so that was a no. Maybe it was mass involved somehow, she didn't seem to be pulling a watery puffer fish on me, which would kill just about anyone. I was now in the sleeper car, which was just a long hallway dividing small rooms with small beds. I picked up the fire extinguisher on my way, this time running straight for the dining car. I had an idea I was sure I'd curse myself for in the morning.
“Dining car, everyone!”
The fire extinguishers slowed Vivian down, allowing me to make it; She was pretty fast for a liquid. Ivan, Alicia, and Wendy were already facing off against the other Vivian. Their weapons didn't seem to be doing much either.
“Tequila.”
Alicia threw it with an eye roll, eyes on her opponent. Instead of catching and drinking it (my first instinct) I booted it along and shot it.
The effect was pretty gratifying.
My Vivian shrieked and clawed at herself, giving me time to reach the bar. I started sending bottles downrange at both Vivians while my team and Wendy ducked. Well, Ivan was ducking; Alicia was standing there, sputtering.
“I know Alicia, I know, just throw some!”
She got into the act, throwing bottles with far more abandon (and tears) than I was. I did manage to save the bottle of my favorite rum she threw, curling around it and taking the hit.
“Really, Sasha?!?
I pointed as I got up; the water Vivians had finally finished screaming and dissolving. Seems alcohol was bad for them.
“Do you really want me waking up in the morning, asking where all the rum has gone, Alicia? Really?”
She growled at me.
“I didn't see you holding back when the tequila was on the line.”
Ivan got in between us with a weary sigh.
“Children, please. We need to make sure the train is secure, find the staff or the bodies, and make a call to Central. We can all bicker pointlessly later.”
He had a point.
“Fine, Dibbs on the back of the train, again.”
I took my bottle with me. Wendy acted like she wanted to follow, but I shoo'd her the other way and she followed Alicia and Ivan instead. I could see outside the windows that the entire train station was now clear – it was one hundred percent empty. I set tripwires so nothing could sneak past along the way.
At the back of the train, I found rubbery bones mixed in with the clothes and nothing else. Well, other than the massive mess I hoped Gloom wouldn't make me clean up. At least the sleeper car was mostly intact; just some extinguisher foam in the hall. Then I sighed, went back, and checked all the little rooms. It was all clear. Now we needed to call fro reinforcements just to get the train out; I kind of knew how to do it, but I doubted Gloom would trust us with the task.
Back up front, I found my team in the radio room. The radio was, wonder of all wonders, intact and broadcasting; Ivan was relaying the situation. Central's reply was to tell us they already had a team routed to us, and would put out a priority call for all hunters in the area. None of which helped us now, of course.
I drained the rum; I was pretty tired, but I was even more pissed off.
“What say we try to go find ourselves a witch?”
Wendy looked nervous. “But our teams aren't in any shape to sortie again….”
I shook my head.
“Yeah, and they won't just 'let us' go out alone, which is why we aren't telling them. The Vivian water proves we can't trust them anyway, so let's just go. We know there is something the witch doesn't want us to see, and we know where it is. We find it, we find her.”
But we'd have to go now; a response team was probably already on the way because of the shots. I grabbed one of the emergency bags from under the seat and threw it at Wendy. She actually managed to catch it, staggering in an amusing way as I pulled another bag for me. Ivan and Alicia followed suit. I waited for them all to file out, then raided what was left of the bar; we were gone and back on the street in under a minute.
Day two of house arrest. Morning kinda sucked. I rolled over in a practiced move, hitting the floor with my feet and my knee on the bedpost.
Totally planned, and not painful in any way, limping aside.
This stupid underwear; with nothing to stop it, it rides up everywhere.
"Charming," Gray informed me, having watched everything.
It was too early to think of witty things to say, so I flipped him off instead and shut the bathroom door in his face.
A quick strip and shower later I was feeling almost human, my hat/hair clip riding out the water with me - and my reflexes proved I was better by kicking in just before I would have banged my knee (the same one!) again on the sink; instead I only tripped a bit and fell on my ass.
"You alright in there Sasha?" Gray asked.
"Just peachy."
Screw walking, it was too hard anyway; I rolled over and crawled up to the door. So of course Gray had something to say when I opened it.
"Sasha, why are you naked? Doesn't your society have some sort of nudity taboo? Won't you get cold? Why are you crawling?"
"Clothes are a overrated, and I won't need them in bed. Walking is too hard."
"Please put on some clothes, Sasha. I don't want to see a naked ape without something in the way."
Was Gray trying to imply I wasn't hot? Did I care if he was? Why did I care if he was?
Thinking was also overrated. I dragged myself up my bed and curled up in my covers, which were somehow clean. Mm, nice and warm.
"Come on Sasha, get dressed. You have more generators to fill, and you have the energy to fill them."
Yeah, no. "I'm full of sleep -that's what I'm full of."
"Sasha..."
Special attack, pillow to the face. Shut up Gray, or you'll get another one. And then I'll be without, and sleeping will suck.
Gray shrugged and curled up with the pillow on the floor, like a dog. An extremely annoying, talking too much dog.
My bed was nice and soft.
Someone knocked on my door. "Sasha, time to get up."
"Kindly fuck off, Ivan."
"Sasha..."
"No, go away. Whatever it is, it can be done later."
Some clicking, and my door opened. "Come on Sasha, it's nearly eleven, You've slept too long already."
"Get out, today sucks."
"So I see." Ivan told me, probably looking around and making a face about the mess.
"Ivan, Sasha is nude."
Ivan stopped breathing for a moment. "Right; I'll wait outside the door. And keep knocking, in case Sasha tries to keep sleeping."
What an odd reaction. Was he embarrassed or something? It wasn't like we hadn't seen each other before, we hunted together, and he had seen me during the experiment, while I was out of it. hm, this bears some investigation.
When I unwrapped myself, the first sight that greeted me was Gray holding out a clean pair of underwear in one hand, and a matching bra in the other. Kind of what I expected, and I slipped them on.
One shirt later and who cared about buttons, and I was ready.
"Get in here, Ivan."
I turned away, keeping the door in view out of the corner of my eye.
"What's wrong, Sasha?"
To his credit, Ivan didn't miss a beat, and his eyes took me in but didn't so much as widen.
"Nothing's wrong, I'm just up now, and it's wrong to make you wait in the hall."
At that, his eyes widened; what did I say?
"Alright, who are you and what did you do with the real Sasha?"
Now that wasn't funny at all. Just for that, I was getting dressed socks first. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You considered how I'd feel, waiting in the hall for you to wake up and get dressed; is Gray feeding you lines or something?"
Wait, that brought something up. "He doesn't, but that reminds me - you heard him earlier, didn't you?"
No one had heard Gray talk before.
"I did," Ivan admitted. "I assume that's because he wanted me to."
Gray looked up from some device he was tinkering with and nodded gravely at me. Well, that was good to know, and I suppose it followed, since other witch familiars could also make themselves be heard; truthfully it was kind of hard getting most of them to shut up, without violence. Sometimes even violence didn't shut them up; stupid ones that got away.
"Apparently that is the case."
Button the buttons, pull up the skirt, tuck the shirt in... and done. Oh wait, I need a belt to be in uniform. So belt on, slide the boots on, tying boots is for suckers, and gun belt on. All set.
"Okay, good enough."
"Might want to run a brush through that hair of yours." Ivan told me.
"Why?" I'd brushed it before - hadn't I? I was sure I had.
"You obviously slept on it. I mean, if you're trying to look professional, bed head isn't the way to go."
Back in the bathroom, I could see what he meant. Since my hair was long, it had gotten tangled in the blankets and dried a bit lopsided. It wasn't fully dry, so that probably helped, but I needed to brush it again. A few strokes got it even.
"There, all professional, shirt is all tucked in and everything."
Again, Ivan was staring at me. "What? there's nothing on my face or anything."
I'd just looked in the mirror after all.
"Nothing, let's just go; breakfast is on me."
He said that like it was unusual; I was still too busy paying for past collateral damage - unfairly - to spring for things like food often, even if it was my own.
"What'll it be today?"
"Pancakes from the cafeteria."
Ugh, right, Ivan was probably broke too; we hadn't done a whole lot recently. At least not anything we got paid a bunch for.
Wait. "We aren't actually going to the cafeteria, are we?"
No one ever went to the cafeteria, ever. No one sane. Not even Gloom would set foot in the cafeteria, and he didn't fear the lab. If any outsider asked, any hunter would deny it's very existence. Even so, rumors have spread.
"Hell no, we step foot in there we won't walk out," Ivan hissed, proving he knew the same rumors I did. "Instead I sent Alicia."
Well, Alicia could be mistaken for cattle of some kind or another - which was exactly what the place didn't serve, so she'd be alright. Probably.
Alicia proved to be made of stern stuff by being at the front desk as we came down. She was visibly shaking and was staring off into the distance, but she was in one piece and had three takeout boxes sitting next to her. Sarah was ignoring Alicia as she filed paperwork, but she was shooting glances at the boxes; had she skipped breakfast?
Alicia, for her part in this play, was hovering over the boxes and staring Sarah down with a look of bored venom.
I could smell it from across the lobby - and it didn't smell half bad. And it was hard to sneak mystery meat in pancakes, so there was that. Gray pulled out a thing, for lack of a better word, a device of flashing lights and beeping noises with an antenna on top, and started waving it around.
I wanted to call him out on that, but the lobby itself was full of both hunters and petitioners, and I was sure that wouldn't go well. Gray could make himself visible at any time, I knew that, so it only followed that he could make himself heard too. Other familiars did both all the time, so why was I so surprised by it now? Hm.
"Gray, a question." I whispered, leaning over as far as I dared in order to make sure no one overheard us.
"I have an answer, Sasha," Gray replied. "Please ask."
"Why do I have problems waking up sometimes?"
Gray blinked. "You have low blood pressure after sleeping, on occasion. I suspect your diet and exercise regime, or lack thereof. Who are you and what have you done with the real Sasha?"
"Laugh it up, ass." So a medical thing, but not a serious one, or I'd have been booted out a long time ago. One minor mystery solved.
Ivan turned back. "You say something, Sasha?"
Whoops, too loud. "Nothing important."
Ivan gave me another loaded look but let it go. Alicia on the other hand...
"Wow, before noon! I owe some people money."
"What's that supposed to mean? I get up when it's important!" It wasn't my fault I wasn't really needed at the moment. Busy work was just... boring.
"Nothing Sasha, I just saw how much you drank last night, and took a guess. What did Ivan say to get you up?"
What Ivan actually said must never be uttered to Alicia, no matter how much her beard whiskers were twitching. "Nothing, I was already mostly awake I'll have you know."
Everyone in range stopped for a full beat; jerks all. Sarah actually palmed a bill, and slipped it to Alicia, who made a big show of taking it - even sniffing it once before making it disappear.
Gray on the other hand, was aiming his device at the food boxes. It was beeping in slow, steady tones. "There are no pathogens, bacteriological agents, or other questionable substances in any of these substances," he informed me. "It is safe to consume."
"Thanks Gray," I whispered before turning to Alicia. "Which one is mine?"
Alicia shrugged. "Take your pick, they are all the same. Pancakes with strawberries on them, toast with butter, no meats. I didn't trust the meats."
Alicia knew the stories too, and I applauded her wisdom. "Good call. Strawberries though? Fresh ones?"
Alicia nodded. "Fresh ones, picked three days ago and inspected, if the cook is to be believed."
I'd still check them myself, and Alicia clearly would to; at least, if Gray hadn't done that thing with his device. I knew I could trust Gray. But keeping up appearances was a thing too.
"Alright, pass me the first then."
More money exchanged hands. "What now?"
"We had a bet on which one you'd ask for too," Sarah replied. "I bet the last one, and Alicia bet the first."
"I know of the ego," Alicia told Sarah smugly. At least Sarah didn't appear mad about her loss; she was still smiling.
They were wrong about why I always picked the first one though, not that I'd tell them that.
The box smelled even better up close, and when I opened it, I was greeted by pancakes so large they had been folded into the thing, just slathered with fresh bright red strawberries. Even the toast placed carefully to the side looked fresh and not at all burnt.
It was almost like real food or something.
Alicia handed me a fork and a knife, both so clean they caught enough light to force me to squint. I wondered where she stole them from.
I inspected the first bite carefully - then gulped it down. It was actually good!
"Well, I'm not dead."
"So you aren't," Alicia said, finally grabbing her own box and passing the last one to Ivan.
Ivan also inspected each bite, but Alicia didn't bother. She caught me looking.
"Well, I've already decided to eat it, so what's the point? no matter how bad it is, you know we've had worse."
She wasn't wrong. But there was always worse, probably.
I carried my box away from the lobby desk and to the bench we had sat at yesterday, so Sarah could continue her work without me in the way. Ivan followed, but Alicia stayed put because she was a jerk.
I finished up and threw the trash away, wrapping the silverware up and pocketing it for cleaning later. Then it was time to go back down to the lab to fill more generators. Hopefully without Emil hiding in the cabinets this time. The question was did I check them or did I just not want to know?
I'd decide when I got there.
Ivan stood up, throwing his own trash away. "Come on, it's time."
When I stood Alicia stuffed her face full and hurried to close ranks with us - with me. I actually felt a little something which I wasn't about to look at too closely for fear I'd have to kill the feeling with fire.
Gray and Ivan were right, something was wrong with me today.
The hall leading into the labs was even darker than usual; some of the lights that had been working yesterday were broken. Must have been one wild night. My hair clip went to goggles, and Suddenly I could see everything, in dim to bright greens, It was kind of neat.
Since I could see I took point, signaling the lack of movement or enemies seen. The doc probably counted. When I sensed hesitation I grabbed wrists and pulled the two idiots behind me; they had said I wasn't going to be doing this alone, and they were going to keep going.
The room was empty, and this time so were the cabinets. Well, empty of bodies anyway; there was some weird machinery in a few of them; how had those two fit in there yesterday?
Then Gray pointed at them. The machines were free of all dust and on, lights blinking or solid. There were no sounds, no gentle hum or mechanical click, but it was clear the devices were doing what they were supposed to do.
"Lock the door," I whispered, loud in the silence, and Ivan complied. Alicia hit the light switch and my goggles went back to their hair clip status, Alicia watching it happen without a word.
"Safe for now, at any rate. I guess we'll have to see about the way out when we need it."
Alicia shook her head with a slight grin, beard waving in the breeze created. "Typical Sasha."
I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, since I was the best planner I knew, (with her included) but I didn't want to listen to her yell in my ear for the next hour. Instead I lamented on our lack of liquor today, which at least made yesterday bearable. Sobriety was overrated.
Oh well, the sooner I got started the sooner I got finished. I started off with a different shelf this time, for the feeling that I'd made some progress in this somehow. I was pretty sure that despite the generators clearly claimed yesterday, there were enough new ones placed here dry that I didn't see any empty spots. We didn't even have that many hunters operating out of central, did we? This seemed like a lot.
As if, it was still only around fifty gennys. We were always shorthanded.
This time there were only a few generators I recognized; the rest seemed to be new and unmarked or personalized in ways I didn't recognize.
Like this sticker coated one for example; cartoon character stickers I didn't know, little mutant people and critters. I didn't see the atraction, but there had to be one somewhere.
The one painted pink was too flashy, and the one painted black was a little too try-hard. Everyone knew that gray and muted forest colors were the best colors for a big box with flashing lights anyway.
Ivan and Alicia both knew what I was thinking when I pointed them out, even going so far as to roll their eyes for a few of the more extreme examples.
An hour later I was done, all energy expended. I had to let Ivan help me up, and as soon as I was upright, the room started a slow spin I was all too familiar with. I should probably stop using everything.
"Whoa."
"Don't worry, I've got you," Ivan assured me.
Alicia was letting her inner chicken show though. "If the science team shows up, I'm going to throw you at them and run."
"Thanks for the warning Alicia, I'll be sure to trip you on the way down, you Judas."
Ivan wrapped my arm around him, then ruined it. "Ladies, please. Now is not the time."
"How long have you been waiting to use that one?"
"Awhile now," he admitted to me. "Worked, didn't it?"
I shut up, I wasn't going to admit something like that. Words could make one feel like they had been doused with ice water though, that was good to know; never felt that before.
The hall outside was empty. Completely empty, and still very dark. My hair clip didn't change this time, so I was just as much a bat as my team, but at least we knew what the way out was.
Despite the screams sounding behind us (which sounded canned), nothing rushed out of the darkness. We made it to the door safe and sound. And because the day and the visit had gone smoothly, this was the moment the universe decided to screw us.
Gloom was waiting for us. His eyes might have lingered a bit more on me than the rest of the team.
"Come on." He growled out, and swept back up towards his office. People dodging left and right to stay out of his path.
Ivan sped up to keep pace, and I tried to help but he dragged me more than I wanted. Even so, we entered Gloom's office a good minute after he did; stairs were hard at the moment.
"Take a seat." Gloom told us once the door was shut.
I sank into one gratefully. "Whatever it was, I didn't do it."
Gloom sighed. "Nothing like that, this is an assignment."
Well that was a relief. "When do we leave?"
"When you can stand up," Gloom replied dryly. "Want to hear where it is at least?"
Oh, right, knew I was forgetting something. "Sure."
"Pack your summer clothes, South has requested help in Egypt." Gloom tossed a folder - at Ivan, who caught it.
Wait, South? But they sucked! "South? Really?"
"It seems they feel they have a situation they can't resolve themselves. It also seems a large teddy bear spitting fire might have been seen near Cairo recently; at least that was the description given to the police there."
Ana. And she wouldn't be alone. But what would they be doing there? It was too far away from their usual stomping grounds, and the last sighting of them had been in France, last I heard.
Gloom looked me right in the eye. "Just don't blow up a pyramid or anything."
Only if it got in my way. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Gloom sighed again. "Get out of here. And read the briefing this time! Be ready to go by tomorrow morning!"
I couldn't really exit any better than I could enter, so Ivan had to help me while Gloom stared at us awkwardly. "Don't worry, we're on the job."
He didn't use the line the way he was supposed to, instead sinking his head into his hands.
Egypt. Sunny, sun-kissed Egypt. It was hotter than a tin roof in July, without it actually being July. It was so hot, Ivan was carrying a small keg, and it wasn't the fun kind. My uniform was sticking to me in some very uncomfortable places, and the umbrella Grey had handed me didn't really do anything but take up space in my hand.
We crested the next dune, and were rewarded by the amazing sight of even more sand dunes, wavering in the heat. Sand, as far as the eye could see... even my eyes, good as they were.
"Where are we supposed to be going, again?"
Ivan sighed. "The ancient city of something-or-other, some ruin out to the south of Cairo."
Okay, I had to ask. "And why are we going there, instead of staying in Cairo again?"
Cairo was a sweaty, nasty, smelly city full of thieves, murderers, and con-men. But at least it was civilization. Well, kind of. This was just a desert... and I'd seen ruins before; it was just another word for 'rubble'.
"Because that's where the sighting of the fire breathing teddy bear came from."
That made no sense. "What the hell was anyone doing out there?"
"Sightseeing and archeology, supposedly."
Ah, so the time honored pastime of all people in Egypt, native or not, eventually - Grave robbing.
"Is there even anything left to look for? I mean, it's Egypt, not Thailand or India."
Ivan shrugged. "Our contact seemed to think so, but how should I know? Do I look like a scientist to you?"
"Maybe? A Russian one?" Russian scientists tended to be tall and built, at least in my experience.
Ivan stopped and turned, giving me a stare that was probably supposed to be threatening or something, before adjusting the straps on the water keg and turning back. "It's too hot to fight."
Well on that we could agree.
"Aren't we supposed to be resting, and travel later in the day?" Alicia asked, her beard wilting.
"Sure, if you want to risk the scorpions being more active." Ivan answered.
Alicia jiggled all over; a full body shudder. She was such a wimp sometimes.
"Not to mention the snakes," Ivan added.
Alicia shuddered again. I don't know why she was worried, she was probably more poisonous than anything in this desert. I wasn't even sure what the big deal was, since they were both dressed for success, in robes and turbans in shades of brown. The garments were wool and smelled so strongly of camel that I had decided to go without. The smell was an improvement for some, however.
Not that I was regretting that decision or anything, even if my uniform made me stand out like a beacon out here.
I was getting tanned, despite my best efforts. Or maybe I was burning, despite my best efforts; I had no idea which one it would end up being, but it was going to be interesting, finding out.
Top another dune, and... find a bunch more dunes, just like five minutes ago. Because of course.
Still, it was an opportunity: "Are we there yet, Dad?"
Ivan took it in stride; his tone didn't match his words. "Don't make me pull this keg around, Sasha."
I could sense Alicia rolling her eyes behind me.
Back down another dune, and I was done. "Gray, go scout. Find this ruined city. From a distance, of course, don't get in range to get shot down or anything."
Gray gave me a look, the 'why are you telling me how to do what I know how to do?' look. Then he took off, straight up, and my visor beeped, getting a picture of the terrain ahead. At least he didn't sass me. I wonder why he didn't sass me? Maybe it was too hot for sass. I could respect that.
Another beep, and something popped up on my visor; an image of crumbling walls, half hidden by sand, helpfully outlined by a green frame around them. It was to the right of us, a mile or so right and ahead. My visor told me that would be South and West, if I cared to know.
"Ivan! We're too far East. We have to go that way," I pointed. "Well, if this picture is your ruins that is. I suppose it could be some other ruins."
"Not likely out here," Ivan said, giving his verdict. "This place was well off the beaten path, even before the path of the Nile changed. There isn't anything else out here, or at least nothing else known to be out here."
I shrugged and took the lead. Gray was still feeding me information, so it was easy to alter our course; we reached the wall with few problems. It was large, made of cut blocks bigger than I was, but despite the look of ancient permanence it was so low we could vault it . Or maybe that was 'the dunes were so high'?
The wind started picking up, so of course the sand started blowing around. As expected, the other side of the wall was much farther down than this side; now that I was here, Gray decided he could get closer, and my visor was still showing me what he saw. We'd have to repel down it, to reach the city. Because there was an actual city there, with crude buildings as far as the eye could see.
Another green box came up on the image, this one at the wall itself. There was motion down there... a snake, taking shelter from the heat. So Gray could see living things that weren't witches, including very small things, that was good to know.
Nothing else was moving down there.
"Snake down there. Other than that, no movement."
"Are we hungry?" Ivan asked.
I pulled. "We will be."
A single shot and the head of the snake was gone, fangs included. The shot was silent since it was low power - there was no worry about giving our position away. Sure the flash might have, but anyone close enough to see that was someone Gray would have seen from his bird's eye.
Alicia tied a rope around a block and tested it. "Who's ready to be out of the sun?"
There were no knots on the rope so I took the time to pull some gloves on. "Go ahead, it's safe."
I also wanted Alicia to go first since she was the one most likely to pull the block off the top of the wall, if that was possible. I didn't trust three thousand year old mortar.
Alicia plunged off the edge with another shrug; the rope snapped rather loudly as the slack was pulled taut, but held, and surprisingly the stone held too. Maybe it weighed more than it looked to, I don't know. Ivan was next while I scanned for anyone looking for us.
No giant bear and no giant rage dragon. they weren't exactly known for their subtlety. Neither was I, really - Gray had to tell what the word meant, not that I'd ever let anyone else know. Subtle was another word for hiding, and none of us would ever be known for that. Even my Dad had never been one to hide.
Ivan was already spreading the canvas that would give us shelter from the heat, and Alicia was working on the framework for it. It was a little silly, but the government in Cairo had asked us to 'preserve the artifacts' which included not hammering any holes in walls, apparently. As if that would stop a witch from razing this entire place, once the fighting started.
It might even have been why dear old Olivia chose to go to ground here; it would be the type of place she would know about, the normal hardships of living here wouldn't matter to her, and she would count of the government being worried to attack her here because of their precious cultural history or something.
Whatever, it wasn't my problem. I promised that I'd try, but nothing more. I probably shouldn't have even done that much.
"You going to do anything useful or just stand in the way?" Alicia asked me.
I moved. "Sorry, was just making sure we weren't about to die from something."
Alicia knew what I meant, but she wasn't about to give up. "Oh, is that what they call staring off into space now?"
She was angling for something. "What do you want, hunter Alicia?"
A collapsible tent pole got stabbed into the ground where I'd been standing. "How about you handle the fire and the food?"
One tent pole was pointing to the snake, still leaking blood all over the sand near our new camp. I picked it up and went looking for a surface.
The skinning wasn't an issue, since the venom wasn't an issue; no head, no venom sacs. A few quick cuts with a knife and that was done. The real issue was going to be the fire to cook it and stay warm when the desert got cold. Since we didn't have any animals, we didn't have any dung, so we couldn't burn that. There wasn't any wood out here, or if the was, it was all the type of 'artifact' I wasn't supposed to touch.
We had a backup supply of coal, but it wasn't all that much.
I was far enough away that any conversation I had wouldn't be overheard. I decided to kick it upstairs. "Gray, do you see any wood or a source of fuel for a fire around? Within easy walking distance?"
Gray headed back into the sky, almost directly up. "I'll scan for it."
I really should do it myself; it would be very easy to grow too dependent on Gray, and I was at risk enough already.
Nothing really left to do, so I decided to check on my own, after all, two searching increased the chances of finding something.
I could have Gray leave my range. My visor still told me where he was, or at least, and then all that was left was a direction; just how far away did he go? From the top of the largest pile of rocks around, something that looked like a kind of bridge of all things, I saw what looked to be trees and greenery - an oasis? Here? Nah it had to be the desert playing tricks on me, there wasn't supposed to be any water out here, let alone trees.
But things that shouldn't be made me nervous, even if they didn't really exist, so remaining upright and marking myself for possible fire (rather from bear, dragon, or witch) was not in the cards. I couldn't get as far down as I wanted due to my front; how did Alicia handle it? She was worse off than I was, if only by being bigger all around.
Oh right, she didn't hide, that's how she handled it.
"Sasha, you've lowered your parasol."
What the hell was a parasol? "A what? And how can you talk to me from this far away?"
Gray sighed so loudly it had to be for my benefit. "The umbrella, Sasha, hold it up again. And A radio built into your visor. Or magic, if you prefer."
I slid off the bridge, which was a bit more painful than I liked due to the two reasons that I couldn't lower myself on the hard surface as much as I liked in the first place. Landing on my feet I dusted myself off a bit and re-opened my umbrella.
"There should not be any "I know what a radio is, jackass. But with no wires, and inside my visor? It's too small for that."
"Magic, then," Gray returned. "I am on my way, mission accomplished."
What, already? "Can you do me a favor and check, um, coordinates... oh whatever. Just check a mile or so in front of me, to confirm if there is an oasis on the other side of this shithole."
"Such an easily obtained source of water in this area."
Yes, thank you, Gray. "I know that, That's why I want you to check it out."
The response didn't take long. "Well, it seems there is an easily obtained source of water. A shaft drilled into an underground river, and a pond formed with non-porous stone."
That sounded almost mundane. "So, magic?"
Another sigh for my benefit. "Yes Sasha, magic."
"Right, get back here, and make sure you aren't seen."
"On my way."
Mere seconds later, he was behind me. I couldn't see him, but he was a dot on my visor. I could also feel him. Or sense him, with my anti-sneaking up sixth sense. Yeah, that's what it was.
"So, where's the wood? Or dung, or whatever?"
I knew I'd made a mistake as soon as I said it. I could feel the smug disbelief, or whatever it was, rolling off Gray in waves.
"I did not choose to defile my spacecraft with dung, Sasha. The wood is safe."
Whatever. "Too good for poop, huh? Everyone poops, Gray."
If anything the feeling got worse. "I do not poop, Sasha."
Wait, Gray didn't poop? Come to think of it, I'd never seen him go to the bathroom.
"I don't think I can work with you anymore, Gray."
"Ha. Ha." Gray deadpanned, right on cue.
Gray made his ship visible as I strode into camp - I could see the sparkles out of the corner of my eye.
I started arranging the nearest rocks, shattered remains of bricks and weathered squares that looked to have been carved to trap fire's heat centuries ago. "So where is this wood? I don't see anything in your ship."
Not that there was a lot of space in that thing anyway, but there was nothing behind his chair.
"Of course you don't." More sparkles, this time with some red mixed into the blue, and a large stack of wood, corded and cut and almost as tall as I was, came to be.
"If I had stuck my arm over there while that was happening...."
"You'd have a very interesting appendage right now." Gray answered.
Curiousity killed the cat, and all that. "Right, remind me not to do that, and for good measure, warn me when you're going to do that kind of thing again."
My two fellow hunters were gaping at me, though with Ivan it was more than simple shock.
"Do I even want to know where you got all that from?"
I regarded Ivan for a moment, then turned back to Gray before answering his question. "I'm guessing you don't. And I don't either, for the record."
Gray shrugged his little shoulders. "Not from anyone near this location, nor from anyone who will notice or care."
Ivan stared at Gray, who was apparently making himself visible to everyone else today, and Gray added: "They are also still alive, there is no need to worry."
Ivan decided to let it go. "Were you seen?"
I looked away from Gray to find that instead of Ivan giving him the third degree, Ivan was instead giving me the third degree. "Of course I was seen, what the hell, Ivan?!? This ain't my first hunt."
Ivan opened his mouth, then noticed where my hands were. Which meant I noticed where my hands were; when had they drifted there?
"My bad - I wasn't actually mad or anything."
Ivan opened up again, and this time completed his thought. "Who are you, and what have you done to Sasha Norre?"
"Ha. Not an imposter, just didn't really care." Was I wrong in saying I didn't want to fight over it? Was that odd for me? It might be, but I didn't think it was; I liked Ivan.
Ivan gave me a look I didn't know, but let it go and let me finish the fire circle and heating stones we'd need to survive the night. Not to mention, banking the fire so that it wouldn't show and the smoke wouldn't be visible for twenty miles in all directions.
I set a fire but left it unlit. I wanted to cook the snake meat, but drying it was probably best. Some salt and a few poles for the purpose, and I was all set to start.
I was bloody now though, and there was no way to wash off without wasting water; rubbing sand on my arms and hands could only do so much.
"Oh quit it Sasha, you're such a girl, I swear."
My hand was around Alicia's neck before I could blink, my off hand gun held barrel first at her eye so close the lash was brushing it. My finger was twitching, I stilled it with effort.
"Sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. What did you say?"
Alicia's eyes were a little wide, but she didn't betray her surprise otherwise. "I was... stating facts?"
Shit. She kinda was, even if she had made it sound insulting. I couldn't even be mad at her. Well, all that mad; I kind of wanted to shoot her anyway, on principle alone, but my new guns might actually kill her, even on the lowest setting. I switched grips and helped her up. Helping Alicia almost caused me to pop an arm out of joint. "For the record, I was worried about the scent attracting predators tonight. Shooting random animals in the dark and giving our position away would be a hassle."
"Yeah, sure. That makes sense, but then, what's this?" Alicia asked me as innocently as she could manage while she grabbed my umbrella.
"Gray insisted I carry the darn thing, so ask him." There, that should shut her up.
It did; her eyes narrowed as she looked at our fourth.
"Do you do everything Gray asks you to?" Alright, I guess it wasn't enough to shut her up. The low grade threat was more unusual. I wasn't sure I liked it.
"You know I don't."
Gray stuck up for me. "Sasha has a delicate complexion, and is easily burned. Any such damage will degrade her appearance, and such an outcome is to be avoided."
I wasn't sure I wanted Gray sticking up for me.
"See? Even Gray think's you're...." Ivan slapped a hand around Alicia's mouth before she could say the rest, looking tired.
"It's too hot for this shit. If you can't stop sniping at each other, just don't say anything at all."
I was about to point out that I hadn't actually said anything 'snipey' yet, but decided to let it go. It really was too hot for this. It didn't stop me from finding the shadiest spot of our shelter and plunking down.
Silently, of course, just to mess with my fellow companions - after all, if I didn't say anything, how would they know if I was mad or not? I spread a blanket, more to slow the sand down than anything else, A quick pat of my pack, and it became a nice enough pillow.
That was a lie, it was a terrible pillow, but it was better than a rock, so I was fine. We'd be moving at night; normally we'd talk out who had what watch, but I wasn't supposed to talk so I was taking the first nap.
Ivan set his own blanket up beside me, and stretched out. He was asleep as soon as he closed his eyes, which was a trick I used to be able to pull off. Not that I missed that useful skill or anything.
I rolled over and Gray was there, big buggy eyes already closed, sharing my blanket, and also already asleep; I hadn't heard or felt him get closer. He shouldn't be able to do that, right? I thought witches knew where their other half was at all times. That was something I should probably write down... later.
Gray woke me. "Sasha, we have trouble."
I rolled, upsetting several snakes who had decided at some point that I was a good source of warmth; they all slithered off rather than biting me as soon as I moved. Gray wasn't looking at those, however.
Instead he was looking past the form of Alicia, hunched over in the gloom, past the set fire, past the now setting sun - to the massive red dragon winging it's way lazily past the ruin.
There was no problem in getting outside the city; the real problem lay in not getting recognized on our way out. Luckily, Hunters through the years had developed some tricks to help that would see us through the crowds, and I was a master of them.
“I'm telling you, Sasha, even if you take your coat off, you're still recognizable. You haven't even changed your pants! Your uniform pants!”
“Shut up Alicia.” Alicia was a non-believer. It wasn't like she'd changed anything at all. Then again, that beard of hers was probably easily marked anywhere.
“She's right, Sasha. We have at most ten minutes before this town's authorities start following our trail. We will need to get past the gate checkpoint quickly.”
At least the crowd, panicked by the gunfire, was still running around making life difficult. The sheep would help us, in this case, as the French would be unlikely to bulldoze them out of the way.
Even Wendy got in on the act: “You don't seem to know how to hide very well, Mr. Sasha, sir.”
Alicia muttered something about my guns… as if she expected me to take them off too, or something. That just sounded all kinds of stupid. We headed down an empty alley to the outer wall.
“You can talk about my guns when you take off your stupid whip.”
“My whip is not stupid, you half-pint troll!”
Alicia used her stupid whip to throw a grapple past the outer wall, and Ivan started scaling immediately. Wendy's eyes widened as I took up position to cover. Luckily it seemed no copies of Vivian or other people around; no one had followed us in the alley.
“You seem really good at this sort of town escaping, Mr. Sasha, sir.”
Alicia headed up. While Ivan gave the all clear; there were no trip wires or any sort of alarms on the top or sides of the wall. Amateurs.
“This isn't our first time out, Wendy. We are an experienced hunter team.”
Wendy hummed at that before starting up the rope. “I'm not sure skill in being able to leave towns while being chased is a skill that should be practiced, Mr. Sasha, sir.”
I was surrounded by doubters. “Just get up the rope before I end you. Oh, and are there any security measures we should be aware of on the wall here?”
I was a professional. At least I asked, right?
“Just that it's watched, Mr. Sasha, sir. The spotters will direct pursuit to the section of the wall we're going over, but with the panicked crowd I don't believe we will lose any time.”
So still in between five and ten minutes. More than enough time, considering. The French wouldn't chase us out of town too far; they wouldn't consider the risk worth it. Long experience told me so… any pursuit we had would be the kind we'd be free to annihilate.
I put my jacket back on as we cleared the wall. Niceties were to be observed, and the witches had a right to know who was coming for them. I led us left.
“Wendy, you can scout if you want, but not out of sight. Understand?”
She saluted smartly. “Yes, Mr. Sasha, sir!”
Then she took to the trees like a monkey, while we ran on the ground, but she waited from time to time.
We couldn't keep the pace; well I could, but Alicia was already blowing hard and we couldn't keep silent while running off trails in any case.
Back to the coast we went, slower now, because I had no doubt there were witch patrols out, whether we were expected or not. Of course slow for us was still a pretty quick by normal standards. Soon enough I was right, as Wendy stopped, hunching up in the tree with hand raised. I slowed with a shrug, walking up and positioning myself behind a bush.
There were two familiar witches on the other side of the bush and a bit further downrange, leaning up against each other back to back and watching the forest. Seriously, if we kept meeting them, or what had to be copies of them, I was going to walk up and ask for their names; this was getting ridiculous.
Much as I hated it, we would have to sneak past them, which would be pretty hard to do considering how they were set up. They had left one blind spot, however, assuming it wasn't covered by someone else we couldn't see. I motioned Wendy back and she slithered out of the tree slowly, using the trunk as cover.
I couldn't just talk, so I used hunter sign to show where the sentries are. Then I had to use more normal signs to ask Wendy if she'd seen anyone I missed, which took forever before she got the point and shook her head no. So I then used sign to describe the route we needed to take… which was right above them. The only spot they hadn't thought to cover was directly above their heads.
Well or under them, but I wasn't a damned mole.
Ivan asked the million pound question (because pounds were worth more than euros, of course), again with sign: “How?” We weren't exactly birds, either. Alicia signed the kill order, which was what I'd normally go for, but I had a sneaking suspicion if we did that whoever had sent them here would know we were coming. And we'd probably end up fighting more of them again anyway, so it was kind of pointless.
We had to find the source, whatever that was.
We could also circle around and try from somewhere else, but that would take a thousand hours! Clearly, up and over was the way. I handed Wendy a rope and made monkey motions. She looked a little green, but nodded and set off, going to the very tops of the trees before tying us humans a route across them. I made sure to keep her in sight, even while slowly climbing up after her.
Climbing trees made us a little more noisy than walking, but since we started far enough back, the witches didn't seem to notice.
Soon, and by soon I mean a small eternity later, we were all rope crossing over them. They didn't look up; even witches suffered that issue, though to be fair it was hard to see things like dragons or gargoyles or whatever in a forest like this.
Ivan tapped my arm and pointed to the rope, once we were down. If they looked up, it was easily visible, but I shrugged at him. Every great plan had a few flaws, and any move we made to recover the rope would probably backfire on us. We just had to not have them look up for a half an hour or so, and we'd be back where we had been baited away from this morning.
Turned out there was another pair of sentries – both Vivians. They were far more alert, looking around and even up constantly. There was no help for it, they would have to be worked around or taken out. And I voted on worked around, since I wasn't flinging my last bottle of rum at them no matter what; I'd drink it first. Alicia was with me, cradling her vodka like the fragile child it was.
Working carefully around them the only way we could led us to the cliff-side. There were witches under it, patrolling around. But we all had our mountain goat training, so I started climbing. We could work our way down a little, then across, then back up. Wendy had to have mountain goat training too, she kept up.
About fifty feet of this and there was a trail down, caused by a rock slide. It wasn't much of a trail, and if we weren't careful we could make a lot of noise going down (or just die), but We'd been down worse. And it wasn't patrolled, at all. The nearest witch was at the bottom. We got to the last bit of cover on it without sliding so much as a pebble, and I grabbed Ivan and stole his binoculars.
There was a cave down there, just above the tide line. Looked like in an hour or two, it would be half submerged. There were also some sort of… things in the water near it. Dark green with black markings, large bloated forms just floating. A light was coming from the cave, showing off more witch guards that I thought I recognized.
This looked like the end of the tricky road, though. The beach was crawling with them; the moment we rounded our little outcrop here we'd be seen, and then it'd be a running fight to the cave, just to see what was inside. At least this wasn't as bad as going by water would have been. That was my first thought, and with those things in the water, I no longer liked the idea of swimming.
There were some hunter teams that were good at fighting in water; mine wasn't one of them.
We couldn't even talk things over, which was more a blessing than anything. 'Thoughts?' I signed.
Ivan sighed. Alicia sighed. Even Wendy sighed. Alicia signed back: 'we're in for a fight, it seems. Escape plan? Maybe the ocean?'
We were all good swimmers, but we weren't dolphins. Even without the green things, that was a risky option. I handed over the binoculars and she took a look.
“Well, shit. I assume you're dead set on going through with this? That's enough witches to call out an entire branch on.”
She wasn't wrong. “Yeah but they're weak.”
If we had to, I had no doubt that we could go through them.
Alicia wasn't on board. “With that many, they don't need to be. Only takes one.”
The witches on the beach all turned their heads at once, looking inland but away from us, and all before I could say 'we need a distraction'. I tapped my team and rose, sprinting across the beach as the witches began shifting. In the distance I could hear the sounds of a fight that could rapidly become a war; The French had followed us after all, somehow. Maybe the rope had left enough of a trail?
Either way, the growing commotion worked for us as we worked our way around the edge of the beach.
The two witches at the cave entrance never saw us, and died without a sound. The real problem lay just inside the cave, and it saw us.
It was a gigantic sea slug, with eye-stalks zeroed in on us, and a double row of slick green pods squeezed in the limited space behind it – and several witches clearly displayed inside it, all being dissolved or eaten or something. A witch was leaning against it, uncaring of the slime rubbing off on her green robe and wicker hat, and perfectly safe.
She was small, even without the giant slug for contrast, and wore a sickle at her hip. She was blonde, with wide blue eyes and freckles dotting her cheeks. She looked young and innocent, but I knew better. She had collected witches, quite a few of them, and fed them to her familiar. Normally something I could give her a pass for, but I recognized a few people who weren't witches in there too.
What was she doing here? She levered herself up and touched her hat, even as two pods around her broke, disgorging perfect copies of witches in her slug; they even had the hats. I'd never heard of her before, but she'd heard of me.
“Sasha Norre, the maniacal marksman. The Hunter's send their best; I'm honored. Tell me, how's your mother?”
She knew. She was pretty well informed. Maybe they were meeting for tea on Sundays or something?
“Well, witch, my Mom's, still a bitch. What are you even doing here? It's not like this city even has the usual stuff you look for.”
She grinned as the witch copies placed themselves in front of her. I recognized our resident air user, the one who had given us a bit of trouble earlier.
“Come now, a port town like this, filled with tourists and thriving industries, with all those happy people? How could I not want that? Some leg work, a few nights roughing it in a cave while Mr. happy did his thing, and an entire city is mine. I don't suppose you'd just go away, would you? After all, witches won't exactly be welcome in my city, so it's kind of a win for you.”
I wanted to make a show out of thinking about it, but more of those slime cocoons were breaking behind her, and I was pretty sure the witch clones behind us were coming back.
“Yeah, I think not, sluggy. I'm going to have to ask you and your pet to please either surrender or die now.”
Sometimes they did surrender. The powerful ones usually didn't though. She stayed true to form, stamping both feet as she yelled back.
“My name is Lima, not 'sluggy'! Honestly, I thought your mom raised you better; guess I was wrong.”
Time to be a professional. “So, I take it you aren't going to surrender then?”
Rule number 10; never give the witch more than three seconds to surrender. At least she answered.
“No, thank you for the courtesy, though.”
Heh. Joke was on her; some witches you can't take prisoner, and she seemed to be one. I went straight for the eagle, and her eyes widened; her reflexes weren't above human, then. The first shot was full strength, and it straightened the tunnel and smoothed out the imperfections in the wall.
A full five percent charge used for it, and all it really did was excavate. Sure the slug looked a little more melted, and all the witch clones were gone, but the witch? Safely held in the slug's mouth, or whatever it had. It spit her out gently while I shook the smoke out of my face. She looked around, eyes wide, and I couldn't resist a grin.
“Your fault for being in a place you can't dodge.”
I shot again, this time seeing the slug actually swallow her again. She had her mouth open but whatever she said or yelled was lost in the roar of my strongest gun.
The slug was faster than I first thought; I actually had to roll out of the way.
“Sasha, we've got problems!” I caught a glimpse of Ivan dodging a burst of something, probably air, as he threw some of his special knives. Alicia was already tearing into a clone with her whip. I couldn't see Wendy, but I did hear the report of a .32 caliber to my right, so I had a pretty good idea where she was.
The slug slowed; maybe the earlier speed was a sprint of some kind? Either way, it was now making good speed towards the ocean, but nothing we couldn't outrun. Shots three and four went right up it's backside, and it was finally beginning to lose cohesion and bleed, or whatever it was slugs did.
There were witch clones near that jumped in the way; they were melting, dripping all over the sand. The slug even ate a few on it's way to the beach.
I had to dance my way through several attacks. I switched hands, and shot five tore through the makeshift clone wall and hit the slug again. It left it's ass behind this time but made it to the water. From the top of it, I could hear Lima's voice ringing loud and clear.
“You deserve your reputation! See you later, Sasha! Have fun playing with my toys!”
I had to switch arms, which gave her enough time to submerge. I still took the shot, only to have a sand berm raise itself into place and absorb most of the shot. The water no doubt did the rest of the work.
There was a full army on the beach with us now, but at least there was nothing hostile at our backs.
The giant stone crabs chose that moment to burst from the sand and attack. “We need to get out of here!”
Ivan agreed. “Tell me something I don't know!”
Alicia dodged getting snipped in half only to eat a rock. Wendy took two steps to help her before she kipped up, spitting mad, beard bristling. Her jacket had stopped it. Several more rocks were headed our way when I took my next shot, obliterating the incoming.
I'd wanted to aim at the witch clones themselves, but we could probably kill more in the long run if we were alive.
Wendy yelled at me. “Mr. Sasha, sir! What if you turn that big gun of yours on the cave behind us? Blast us a way out?”
She had a decent idea, but… “It doesn't have the power for that! It just shoots enhanced explosive rounds!”
Sure, they were charged, and sure, they did more damage than normal, but the kind of landscaping she was talking about would take way too many shots. That rock was pretty dense; all my Eagle had really done was smooth out the protrusions in an otherwise straight cave, nothing that drastic. Wendy spared the time to send me a 'what the hell does that mean?' look before she had to dodge some water formed into throwing knives.
One more shot and I had to holster the Eagle; I couldn't afford to break another arm here, one was enough. I counted four taken by the blast, then it was back to the .45. Wendy glanced at my now bad arm with a wince and sidled close to it, her own small guns out.
“I'll get this side, Mr. Sasha, sir.”
I appreciated the sentiment, but it was misplaced – even if the thought of someone I barely knew on a weak side wasn't enough to make me a little twitchy. “Can't do that. You stay glued to me, you'll get nailed. Don't worry about me, I've dealt with this before.”
We managed to work our way around the cave and almost back up the cliff side by a trail even a goat probably wouldn't use before our luck ran out. There was another small army of clones waiting for us up top.
……
Somehow, we were still alive. Somehow, the witch's – Lima's – afterthought hadn't killed us all. We had managed to make it back to the forest before Alicia went down, and now we were all back to bark against a large tree, leaking more than a little blood. The witch clones had only half melted, and we had killed a lot of them. Too many. The fact that they seemed to forget all teamwork and tactics helped, but the sheer number ensured we weren't unmarked.
It was an insult, really, when Wendy, the only mobile on of us came back, leading the Hunt's reinforcement team. A reinforcement team consisting of Deisel, Koi, and Merlin along with a few extra scared lab coat types. What was the little freak even doing out in the field? I thought the Gloom had him safely locked away in the dungeon?
His first words didn't exactly fill me with confidence. “Good, you're still alive. Hm, not for long without medical attention, it seems.”
“Yeah, screw you too, weirdo.”
The only guy that could make a better case for being a girl than many guys and girls both (but not me, I was a man's man, despite the crap Alicia spewed) levered me up without a hint of effort, reaching out so one of the lab guys could slap a bottle of stuff that looked like water in his hand; I just knew it was going to sting when poured over places I'd rather not get wet.
I wasn't wrong.
Merlin's bedside manner sucked. “Oh, quit being a baby, Sasha. It only stings for a moment, and speeds healing greatly. With proper follow up, you may not even scar that beautiful body of yours.”
I had to ask. “You don't have a bear costume lying around anywhere, do you?”
If he wasn't a creeper, I was a witch.
He didn't get it. “No, why do you ask? Is there a reason for such a thing? Should I get one?”
Alicia almost choked on her blood laughing, before shooting me a dirty look. No self-control, that woman.
“You really should, and wear it around as much as you can. It'll help smooth over many a social situation.”
Despite the acerbic tone and the expected sting, the freaks hands were feather-light and gentle as he bandaged me up. “I'll consider it. First that woman and now this; just running from one fire to the next isn't good for you.”
“Clearly.” He didn't even look at Ivan or Alicia, leaving them to his assistants and Deisel, who despite having the same first aid training all of us got didn't strike me as the nurse type. No, he only had eyes for me.
He tied the bandage around my torso off, one hand lingering just a bit longer than the other. “So, what happened here?”
I didn't want to tell him.
“Come on now, Sasha. I am your superior in the field, you can tell me.” Some clean vials were slapped into his hand and he started collecting my blood in them.
I turned to Koi. “He always do shit like this?”
Koi rolled his eyes and nodded. “Been escorting him for a week or forever now, and yes he does.”
Good to know, I guess. He was working on my legs now, or I'd already be running. But he wasn't wrong about the chain of command, and as many of the Hunt needed to know, as quickly as possible.
“New witch, no word of anyone like her on our network, and she seemed inexperienced. Didn't use any spells on us at all, and showed a distinct lack of proper planning.”
She did hole up in a cave while trying to take over the town, after all, and didn't target important people; instead, she ate witches and military personnel. Of course, she could have been aiming for a military style take over, and it would likely be hard to hide a ten foot tall and 40 feet long or more slug, but I still wasn't ready to give her a pass on sound decision making.
“She relied heavily on her familiar, a 40 foot long slug that ate people, witches included. Whoever the slug ate, it could produce clones of, with matches to at least some memories, skills, and magic. Though the witch clones produced by her familiar were less powerful than the originals. I'm also willing to guess she can only do it while the people are still alive.”
Just a hunch of mine. Ivan signaled silently that he'd take that bet, and I signaled back that he was on.
Merlin did not bother to hide his interest. “Fascinating. Would you say she's a match for the four greats?”
The four great witch powers, with my Mom - no Olivia, being one. Adding another to that list would be the last thing we needed. My sister was close enough.
“No, she's not. Not yet, but she could grow to be one. Just needs some time to learn for that.”
Merlin helped me up, almost carrying me; freak was much stronger than he looked. It shouldn't surprise me anymore, but it did. “Is the train still here?”
“Was when we left, and mostly intact.”
There were a bunch of raised eyebrows aimed at me in the sudden silence.
“What? It got attacked while we were out, I didn't do anything!”
Ivan coughed as he levered himself up. “For once, Sasha's right. The train was compromised by clones that tried to kill us. We had to defend ourselves, and there was some collateral damage.”
Alicia had to be carted out, and she was giving the assistants to the weirdo manning the stretcher the hairy eyeball (which wasn't hard for her, really… she had hair to spare). “The bar is a total loss, though.”
Deisel winced, but I was over it. I could just send him with some expense account money to get more.
Merlin made a hmm noise.
“And is there any reason you weren't leading the expedition the French sent? Your orders did say to cooperate.”
Merlin had just made it clear to me he had never been on a field op. “My orders said 'cooperate whenever possible' – it was not possible to cooperate; I simply didn't know who was a clone and who wasn't, aside from my team and the one person who hadn't left my sight since the concerted attack this morning. If I had roused the militia and organized a concerted attack, I'd have never found the witch.”
I was pretty sure that the only reason I'd seen the witch in question, was because she had been waiting on more clones to pop. If we hadn't gone immediately that cave would have been empty. It also implied there was a limit on how many clones she could have, possibly. All of which made her plans for conquest even more stupid than usual.
Merlin hmm'd again. “I suppose it was one of the better decisions to make. Still seems very risky however. For someone with the survival of all humanity on their shoulders, possibly the only person who can say such – well, you should take better care of yourself, Sasha. Speaking of which, have you given any further thought to my offer?”
I had.
On the one hand, doctors, each trying to outdo each other in creepy. On the other and more recent hand, I was getting sick of losing. I'd only done it three times, but twice in a row was a streak, and this time my team's generator juice was clicking empty. Without juice, without the magic backing our weapons or reinforcing our coats, even a weak witch could kill us unless we got tricky. We could maybe convince another team to share, but that would could screw them over later, and I didn't wasn't exactly the most well-liked person around.
And on the third hand, creepy as fuck doctors. I was sure that where there were creepy doctors, a third hand (and arm) wasn't far behind.
I realized too late that we weren't heading directly back to the train. I looked up when I heard the sing-song tones of the frog language, to see Ivan staring at me with some concern. Wonder what his problem was; no doubt I'd find out later… after the French yelled at me, no doubt.
“You!”
There he was, the chief frog, Mr. whocareswhathisnameis.
“Yes?”
He stomped right up to me. If only my guns weren't empty.
“What were you doing, shooting up the station, assaulting civilians, and fleeing questioning! You nearly got us all killed!”
Well, he did cover what I was doing pretty well; if he knew, why was he asking me?
“For the record, I never assaulted civilians. If they got hurt, it was their own damn fault.” I didn't really have time to clear my path of fire when fighting on the train, and any real hunter would know that. Hm, that was an interesting shade of purple he was turning. Merlin stepped in front of us a bit, and the frog finally paid attention and realized we weren't alone.
The he started speaking frog himself, quickly. I couldn't understand the language, but the cutesy act came through clear enough. The conversation ended with the jerk stalking off in disgust.
Merlin sighed. “Well, that could have gone better.”
“What was his problem? Not like we lost or anything.” If we had lost, he'd be saluting a witch or dead.
Merlin levered me up and plunked me in a wheelchair, alone. Did I mention he was strong for a little freak? “True, but in the heat of the moment sometimes people have a hard time seeing the forest for the trees. Several people under his command died today, to a witch we failed to kill. I wish we had been more quick.”
Yeah, that made two of us.
“At any rate, I've decided to leave Koi's team here for now, in case the witch comes back. So, Sasha, you and your team are going to have to escort me back to central. Our mission to collect certain samples from the French countryside will just have to wait until the threat is passed.”
I looked at him. He had to know that my team wasn't really capable of escorting a puppy on a walk, let alone anything else. But the train should at least work, and that would make things easy. Failing anything else I could be propped up in a gunner's seat. If we steamed non-stop for central without taking on supplies… well we couldn't do that. But we could limit stops.
“Whatever. I'm going to sleep.”
I had some heavy thinking to do, after all.
Let me tell you a little bit about train rides, mind of mine. They are long, bumpy, and mind-numbingly boring when you can't drink. And when you can't drink and you're in pain? They are a true exercise in torture.
I mean the only thing I could really do was listen to the radio, which was playing some French folk crap, and read a book. If it isn't a witch's obituary or a report on the latest known witch's (with an idea of using those reports to make the obituary later) then I didn't want to bother wasting my time.
And the books on this train were either trashy romance novels or in-depth biology texts; neither one really lit my fire.
So here I was, cleaning my guns again (for the sixth time) while listening to Merlin giggle over a romance novel like the preteen I knew she couldn't be while Alicia snored.
On checking my generator this morning I'd found I still had a minor charge in it, which was suspect; yesterday I was pretty sure it was bone dry, and Alicia's too. Today, I had enough for a few standard shots, or maybe one large one. Granted, I wasn't in any shape to fight, but that was a pretty big thing to be wrong about; maybe I had been drugged? Slipped the good stuff at some point?
Maybe the vial filled with not water was it. If so, I needed more. For testing... yeah, testing.
Ivan hadn't let me check his generator, but I was willing to bet it had some juice too, somehow. Maybe the Witch fairy had given some up? Everyone always told me she didn't exist, but this was proof, right? Of course, she hadn't taken anyone's teeth, so I had no idea what she had taken in payment, but the energy had to come from somewhere.
So I was pondering the problem, and the other problem (the lack of alcohol on board) when the train started breaking with an ear shattering squeal – dumping Alicia on her butt right before gravity lost its hold on all of us.
The car stayed airborne for a good two seconds before slamming down. I seemed fine aside from the shooting pains, so I crawled over to check Alicia; she sat up, scowling dizzily and ignoring the blood pouring from the fresh dent in her head.
The car was on it's side; I crawled my way out of one of the now shattered windows once I was sure Ivan was alive; Merlin was moving too, towards the door that once led to the engine.
Our train hadn't just derailed; the engineer had tried to stop first. That meant that something had hit us.
I spotted her the moment I fully cleared cover, floating lower out of the sun. Marcy the malodorous, one of the four powers. She was older than Olivia but looked as young, with a fresh face bearing a tell-tale mole on her right cheek. She was above average height, thin and leggy. She also smoked, with one of those cigarette holder things that only snooty people used.
She was quite possibly the last person I wanted to see, aside from Olivia or my sister. Usually, she had an entourage too, but I didn't see any of her known allies with her. Her known powers were control of gasses and the creation of some gasses, and a larger than normal variation in her spells. Her familiar was rumored to be an actual gas, and she was rumored to be almost as strong as Olivia; something that was known to rankle her something fierce.
The first words out of her mouth made it clear this was no mere coincidence. “Well, my oh my! Sasha Norre, as I live and breathe! How have you been, Sasha? Still got that cute scar on your....”
That did not need to get out! “What do you want, Malodorous? You do realize there are easier ways to get my attention, right?”
Things like not blowing a hole in the train engine and knocking the entire thing off the tracks, for example.
She waved it off as two of her brat pack came out of the clouds.
The first was Marcy's right hand; Liar Luatta. She had an unassuming look, with dark hair and a plain face, but was anything but quiet unless you shut her up. Her special ability was that she was able to lie to anyone who didn't know who she was, along with some focus on mental spells. Her familiar was a giant mouth, spouting gibberish.
The second was Polyene. Pauline May was a shifter with a small blob for a familiar; her special trick was the ability to transform into any animal. Well, any normal animal, she couldn't mimic people or other familiars or anything, which was good because she was already powerful enough. She looked a bit like her familiar, like a mannequin with a blonde wig and painted features. I had no idea how she could pass as a normal human, or if she even tried.
They both floated there slightly behind their master, arms crossed in clearly disapproving stances. I drew myself up as best I could, and flicked my generator settings; normal wouldn't work for this confrontation.
“Well, Marksman, I heard you had a bit of trouble in Cannes, and I simply had to confirm it for myself.”
There wasn't a reason to lie, really. The slug witch would try to kill them if they met, and they would in turn kill her. Even if they didn't kill her it would start a feud among them, and they might be too busy trying to kill each other to do any damage to us. If they met amicably though, and teamed up... well that wouldn't be good at all.
Aside from all that I needed to play for time; my team wasn't very combat effective, but Merlin and his assistants were assets the Wyld Hunt needed to keep. I hadn't seen the assistants yet but Merlin was behind me; I needed to keep their attention on me. Even if they were all looking me over with predatory eyes right now.
“Yeah, a bit. Met a new witch that can eat other witches and gain their powers. You should totally go there and nose around. Cave on the coast, North of the city; maybe you'll be able to track her down and get eaten.”
she smirked. “Oh please. Your mother can't take me on, you really think some new blood is going to manage?”
That's right, stroke your own ego; better yet, how about I help that along?
“You, take Olivia? Don't make me laugh. She just hasn't gotten around to killing you yet.”
She did not like that at all. “Ah, poor Sasha. I had heard that you met your dear mother in Russia; no doubt it was a touching family reunion.”
She knew. How could she even know? Had she been watching somehow, or pieced it together after? No it had to be after; she wouldn't haven been able to pass up taking a shot at Olivia while I had her distracted.
If she knew, did others? Were more of them lining up even now, in order to take advantage of my teams weakness?
“Why are you here, Malodorous?”
“Well I heard about the touching reunion, as I said, and how your distraught mother left an entire hunter team alive. A very effective hunter team, with several kills to their credit, and I thought to myself, that had to be an oversight. So here I am.”
In other words, she heard that Olivia had left me alive and since she couldn't attack Olivia directly, she decided to see if killing me would hurt her. Only after finding out where I was, of course, rather quickly. I knew there were spies in Cannes! It was probably that chief frog.
“Right.” I eased my hands downward. “Still probably not too late to catch slug girl you know, if you hurry.”
Malodorous grinned, showing needle teeth. “Oh, don't worry, she's my next stop. After all, this won't take long.”
Well, fuck her too. I pulled and moved, my leg protesting. Fire and bolts of light melted the car where I'd been; some made it inside but if anyone got hit, it was there fault. There had been plenty of warning.
My return fire did not miss. The Liar took it dead center, a shield flickering as the impact drove her back, while Polyene took the other in the face and fell out of the sky, smoking. Malodorous spared half a glance for her before she wound up another shot of her own with a dismissive sniff. Fog leaked out of her, eating my next two shots.
I ducked behind the train by sliding off it, something my ankle did not appreciate. I came to rest beside Ivan, who had crawled out of the bottom service hatch/secret escape hatch. He greeted me jovially.
“Well, it's been a good run, eh Sasha? Will she make drinking cups of our skulls, you think? I've heard she does that.”
I took the time to reload; she wasn't just going to peek on me. “You worry too much, old man. We aren't beat yet. Haven't you noticed your genny charge?”
If mine had juice, I was willing to bet his did too. I'd have won, too, judging by the look on his face.
“How...?”
“Don't know, and it might not be enough, but mine will click empty before she nails us.”
“And here I thought you were just in mourning, earlier!”
Ivan grinned as he sent two knives at malodorous; she ducked back and I levered up.
She came blazing over the top next, as I knew she would, and ate two to the face. Or her fog did at least. While I ate one to the leg. The same leg that was already pissed at me. Luckily with a generator charge, my clothes were armored enough so that my leg didn't actually walk away from me or something.
My generator was at less than five percent. Again.
More knives flew, these sank into the fog and exploded. Malodorous ducked back again.
“So, not entirely defenseless. Good, I'd hate for this to be too easy.”
The train car started lifting, tearing itself free from the other cars with a pretty annoying screech.
From one side, Polyene was sort of glide slithering over, a smoking hole still in her head. From the other side, the Liar was coming into view feet first.
And Merlin was on the ground under the car, Alicia laid out next to him. He also had her whip and generator in hand.
“That will be quite enough of that, thank you.” he stated boldly as the car cleared and daylight hit him.
Was he for real? The witches stopped, probably thinking the same thing.
Malodorous sent a stream of something that looked like fog but probably wasn't at him – and it broke up before it hit. Then he cracked the whip, and the sound lashed out in a glowing wave. A glowing physical wave that knocked Malodorous on her ass.
Polyene was going to the rescue when I shot her again. She tumbled a good twenty feet and looked at the smoking hole where her heart should be. It didn't seem to slow her down any as she stood back up, though.
Ivan had the same idea with the Liar, but all he could really do was pin her down; her shield was a bit more effective, and it seemed his knives weren't suited for much. He pulled one of his smoke pellets.
Hm, so far he was using things that didn't require much power. Perhaps he was being too conservative, given what we were facing. Alicia's whip managed to score, going through the fog surrounding Malodorous as if it wasn't there and latching onto her arm. She looked at it curiously for a second before the pain and anger hit.
“You dare!”
Her next attack was a green gas belched loudly from her throat. Like the other, it broke up before it hit; Merlin waved a hand in front of his face lazily. “Phew! You must eat a lot of onions.”
Wow, Malodorous looked murderous - and that thought amused me, for some reason. But her look changed in an instant to calculating. “Who are you, and why are you working for the hunt?”
Merlin smiled - a light smile that made me cold – and replied. “Oh you have me all wrong, I'm not a witch. I'm just a concerned citizen.”
I threw split pistols, aiming one her way while the other stayed on Polyene. Emptying the clips on both kept them hopping, and kept both from thinking too hard about just what Merlin was. At least, if the train car tossed at me like a fastball was any indication.
Luckily enough it missed us all. Unluckily I got pegged by a random piece of something falling out of it.
The wonderful scent of hard liquor bloomed around me as I blearily looked for what hit me. I found it; two broken bottles of vodka, the good stuff, lying next to each other and broken the exact same way. Something was wrong with that idea, but I didn't know what it was. There was also two Alicia's, two Ivan's, and another of each witch.
It had to be multiplication magic. Damn witches and their screwy powers.
The two Merlins looked back to me and asked. “Are you alright?”
I couldn't decide which one of them to answer, so I picked one by eenie meanie miney moe. “Yeah I'm fine. Been better, but everything is still attached.”
The Polyene's spoke up from my left; when had they gotten so close? Had they taken advantage of my miney moe? Probably, they were scum after all. “Here, let me fix that.”
They both turned their arms into large sickle hands or something and took their shot, but I managed to dodge them both. And my guns were empty, so I drew the Eagle. I probably had one shot with that though and didn't want to waste it.
“Sasha!” Wow, Merlin actually sounded like he cared, there. Alicia's whip came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around both Polyene's throat. That actually caused them some issue as the whip discharged.
The Merlins on the other hand, stood fast in the face of the twin Malodorous attack, some weak fire snake thing that looked to be made of ash, protecting the Alicia's. Olivia would have been livid just from seeing such a weak fire attack. It was dispersed like the ones before it, but not before it lit both Merlin's left arms on fire.
A second attack, of battering force, knocked both Merlins to the ground. And then both Malodorous's (Malodori?) stopped, and started talking, giving us time to recover. (At least some of us; two Polyenes were pretty annoying.)
“I'll ask again, and only once more; who are you, and why are you working for the hunt?”
“The answer won't change even if you ask again. Malodorous.”
Merlin sent a bolt of something downrange at the enemy just as I got managed to maneuver the Polyene's into the shot. The Eagle barked and broke my wrist, but at this range even if my aim was off I couldn't miss. Both Polyenes vanished in the flash, splattering everywhere. The Malodori managed to block both shots, but I could tell how close it had been. She picked herself up, spitting dirt, and I couldn't resist.
“Rumors of my weakness have been greatly exaggerated.”
“So I see.' she replied. 'Come on Liar, Poly; we're leaving.”
I switched to the other wrist, but my generator was empty. Completely bone dry, showing zero percent. Probably just as well, since my other wrist probably wasn't up to firing the Eagle anyway. It didn't matter since Malodorous had left; she was Cannes problem now.
“Well doc, I'm not sure that counts as a successful bodyguarding mission or not; this is one hell of a mess. I'm not cleaning that up, by the way.” 'That' was the train. I'd already had my community service for the year. Also, we hadn't actually caught a witch; even Polyene was gone, somehow, and she hadn't left a hat behind.
The Merlins smiled. “Don't worry about it; I'll call it in and someone will be along. For now, let's get you and your team to the next town. I'd call it a success, by the way, and will say as much to The Gloom.”
Well, that was a relief, kind of. Much less relieving was the fact that I couldn't seem to get up, and the Merlins currently blocking out the sun had multiplied to four.
“Alicia okay?”
“Yes, she's fine. I'm more worried about you. Stan! Phil! Get out here!”
Stan and Phil huh? So those were the names of his assistants. I had more pressing concerns, but it was nice to know.
“So, you can do magic.”
Merlins nodded and held up a hand. “The process I'd like to use on you, I used on myself first. It was less effective than it should be with you. How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Twelve.' Each Merlin was holding up three fingers, and there were four of them. 'So what did you do, exactly?” I hadn't ever seen magic like that.
The Merlins all grinned. “It's simple; I have one trick. I can steal the magic behind a witch's spells, store some of it for a time, and use it for a variety of effects. Things like unraveling spells cast my way or channeling power into a generator or even hunter weapons directly are not beyond me. For all of that though, I am weak. I cannot take on a witch alone and hope to live.”
Maybe not, but he'd be one hell of a support for a team – if there were more of him. At least now I knew how our generators had a charge. But he was right about that; five percent of a charge a day (Or was it two days, now?) wasn't enough to do much; with just that, a team would have to sit idle for too long, and Merlin's time would probably be better spent doing sciency things.
But if he could repeat the effect he had, give it to more hunters? We could win the war inside of a year, probably. At the very least we'd stop losing.
Merlin was puttering over me, muttering about my wrist. “Merlin.”
“Hm?”
“This thing of yours, I'm in.”
His eyebrows rose and a smile so wide it seemed to go around the back broke out on his face, but still he asked. “Are you sure? It isn't really the sort of thing one should decide when concussed.”
I met his gaze... all of them. “I'm sure.”
He shrugged. “Alright, but I'll have to get you healed first, or it might affect the procedure. You've been pretty ill-used already, and you need to recover to ensure survival.”
That could take weeks, even with my recovery being augmented.
Stan and Phil showed up, bearing a stretcher while Merlin fiddled with a generator – Alicia's. It had a charge still I guess. I could tell the way Ivan was looking at his own genny as he walked up that he was clicking empty. Merlin hooked Alicia's generator into my jacket then held out a pill.
“For the pain.”
Ivan stopped the hand before Merlin could deliver the pill. “Should you be handing him one of those, with a head injury?”
Merlin nodded. “Normally, no. But I deem it necessary. The generator will ensure he recovers, and the pill will keep him from aggravating his injuries.”
Ivan knew me, and let go. Merlin grabbed my head and held it steady while he stuck the pill in my face. I had no choice but to force it down, and I just knew it wasn't even the good stuff.
Sure enough everything just sort of broke apart and faded away, leaving me drifting; the last thing I could focus on was Ivan picking up my guns.
…...
I woke briefly a few times, the sensation of floating in the air – of being carried – strong. Then again to the noise of a town; there was too much for it to be a village or hamlet. Then again as a train started up. Each time, Merlin would be there and I'd feel a pinch in my arm, and everything would fall away again. Finally when I woke, I was able to stop him from sticking the needle in; The train had stopped, and we were in Central. Ivan was beside Merlin, and Alicia was awake and grumpy looking on her own cot. It made her beard bristle.
They carried us side by side, though I probably could have walked. Maybe. Kind of. Almost. I used the time to write up my report, since I hadn't done it yet and whoever was at the front desk (maybe Sarah!) would want it.
Thanks to the jostling ride, my penmanship looked better than ever.
I shoved it in a folder as we went up the steps. It was complete enough, and clerical types loved folders for everything. Well, not the monastic kind of cleric, but the office worker kind.
And what do you know, it was Sarah behind the desk again. “Sarah! Good morning!”
She looked up and blinked, slowly. “Good morning, Sasha. You're looking... Well, you've looked better.”
I threw my folder at her desk. It landed perfectly of course because I was just that good. “Yeah, Marcy the Malodorous dumped a train on my head. Nothing I couldn't handle, of course. That's my report of it.”
Alicia said something she thought was funny: “Sasha is just like a roach; witches can't stomp him.”
Sarah opened the folder and looked at the half a page in silence; why would she look so sad? The fight hadn't been that bad! Certainly not enough for the look of quiet despair stealing across her lovely face. What could cause such dawning horror?
She slammed the folder closed, panting, as Ivan delivered his own report (five pages, collated and stapled together, with no folder, almost like he wanted to make us look bad) and turned to him.
“Thank you, Ivan, I'm sure your report will be a great help.”
He just waved at her. Merlin gestured with a grin. “Well now, let's get you to both to medical, shall we?”
I waved with my good hand. “Bye Sarah!”
She smiled back. “Goodbye, Sasha.”
We split up; Alicia and I went to medical, with Ivan trailing. Merlin stayed behind, asking Sarah some questions I couldn't hear. I almost yelled for silence, but that would just make Merlin stop talking too. Perhaps not a bad plan, there....
I almost yelled for an entirely different reason when we hit the waiting room. Irene was working!
Irene “Icky” Green, a young doctor with degrees in holistic medicine, sporting a lab coat that was more brown than white. She had been on leave the last time we had rolled through – or suspension – and I hadn't seen her. She was still the same tall, thin, dark-haired and pasty face girl I remembered though, with a hatchet face and thin lips set over a wide mouth. She also looked like she had rolled around in mud more than I had, recently.
“Oh hey, if it isn't the current bearer of the frequent visitor's card. Hey, Sasha, how are you doing?” she didn't wait to hear it from me, instead starting in with her poking, prodding, and moving me around.
“Oh, you know me, can't stay away.”
She took out a light and shined it in my eyes. “Head injury this time, huh? Well, it doesn't look too bad.”
How did she guess? No one had told her yet. “Yeah, got smacked in the head with a train car. Same old same old.”
She stopped, looking at Alicia's generator, which was still hooked up to my jacket. It had been altered a bit to ensure it worked for me, and cunning observer that she was, she picked up on it. “Well, that isn't yours.”
“Nah, it's Alicia's. Merlin messed with it some to help me heal.”
“Really? Looks like it saved your life. How is Alicia?”
I looked for her. She wasn't here; she'd been moved somewhere else, to another room? “Well, she was fine five minutes ago, if not well enough to whine about me using her generator.”
Come to think of it, how had Merlin reworked the generator? They were supposed to be tamper proof in the field. I doubted even Emil could tinker with one outside his lab.
“How bad is he?” Merlin asked.
Irene responded as like I expected. “Well, Sasha is notoriously tough, even without a generator involved. With one? Maybe a week. Of course, the charge on Alicia's generator is about non-existent, so that might mean a few more days. But all in all, the worst is behind him, and nothing looks life threatening.”
It was true, my head was my hardest part. But even healed, our future was bleak. We would have to try and take a witch without any generator juice. I was out, Ivan was out, and Alicia was going to be out. Even a weak witch would probably kill us, and we couldn't rely on Merlin to feed us power like he had; he was essentially a living passive generator but needed something to work with... and I had no doubt he was clicking empty too.
So a week to get better, and then maybe a month to live. Especially with the Malodorous looking for me – unless Merlin did his thing. Oh well, I ain't no chicken.
“We're still on, Merlin. Will the recovery time be a problem?”
He looked down and smiled sunnily at me. “No, not at all. In fact, it's not an issue at all; I can start the procedure now, as long as I know you're stable.”
Irene butted in. “He's stable. But what procedure are you talking about? I know you're a doctor, but...”
“Oh, just a highly experimental procedure designed to create the next generation hunter.”
Irene opened her mouth again, and I closed it. “Mind your own business, Irene. Genny's empty, and nothing saved. You know what that means.”
She looked away. “Fine, but as your doctor, I want in.”
Merlin bowed. “Of course. Shall we go?”
Irene looked surprised. “Right now?”
Merlin unhooked Alicia's generator. “Sure, no time like the present. Id have preferred to do this in my own lab, but here is fine. To the dungeon we go!”
He wheeled me off himself, a spring in his step, while I tried to stay awake without the generator's help. I failed.
…...
I woke up strapped to a table; I could hear yelling, and it was making my head pound.
“Shut up, Gloom! Damn!”
Then my mind caught up to my mouth, and I realized how screwed I was. The Gloom leaned over me, a look I couldn't read on his face. I should be able to read it, really, since faces were like books. Then it occurred to me that I might be a little loopy.
“Sasha, are you alright?” Concern, that as the look! Well, at least he wasn't going to pull my head off or something.
“M'fine, m'fine. The doc do his thing?” I could see Emil and Merlin both beside each other in the corner, and both wringing their hands in sync, oddly enough. Ivan was watching them, and Irene had her arms crossed on my other side.
“No, he hasn't. I stopped him. You're safe.”
Safe? Was he kidding me? Who was ever safe, now? “Don't. I said yes.”
“Sasha, you have a head injury.”
Merlin uncoiled his hands and produced a piece of paper. I could kind of tell from here that it had my signature, but I don't remember signing anything. “I have written permission and a waiver, Gloom, all legal. You just heard his verbal permission. You can't stop us anymore; you know what will happen.”
“Yeah, fuck that; try me.” He turned back to me as Merlin walked up. “You sure about this, Sasha?”
His hands were dug into the bed so tightly they were white. “M'sure. You know what happens.”
He shook his head. “If it's about that, I can help! I have a full generator....”
I cut him off, my blood hot. “No! Don't want yours, don't want others – our problem, I'll fix it.”
He stared into my eyes a long time; I didn't blink. Then with a shrug, he backed off. “Alright, Sasha. Just don't die on me, okay?”
I snorted. “You should know better; I'm tougher than I look. Took a train to the head, just last week....”
“That was only five days ago Sasha. See you on the flip side.”
He walked out, heading up, and the scientists closed in.
I laughed and stomped down, the little ants fleeing before me. Small witches, so small I could barely make out faces and their voices did that funny high-pitch thing scattered before me. I was a giant, a tough giant, and their spells were useless! I could use their bones to make my bread, or something.
Of course, I knew it was a dream, but it was a nice one. Very restful, smashing people who weren't really people into gooey paste.
I woke up with a yawn and stretched; it felt good.
Well, a yawn anyway; the stretched part was hard, considering how strapped down I was. Still was. My freshly opened eyes revealed I was still on the bed, but it was cranked up to a semi-standing position somehow, I would be sliding off the bed if I wasn't strapped onto it. There was a tray of medical instruments, scalpels and probes and other nasty things next to me – that I was sure none of which were supposed to be used in the procedure, not that I was sure what was used, other than I had been assured it was not invasive – and I could see the lights on in the observation area above.
To my other side, there was an old generator, one older than I'd ever seen. Its guts were splayed across the table it was sitting on, and looked to have been hacked apart. I knew part of the process had involved trying to repeat some of the older experiments regarding magic on record, but opening up what had to have been a first generation generator seemed over the top... they had been rumored to leak. A lot. At least that was the official response given for the insanity and clawing of eyeballs that happened after six months to a year of steady use.
All the usual suspects were here: Ivan, Alicia, Emil, Irene, Dustin (who probably needed to be somewhere else), the rest of his team (whose names I can't really be bothered to remember) and most worryingly, both the Gloom and Plague.
They all had their various weapons pointed right at me.
“Uh... hi?” I did my best to choke out. My throat was pretty raw for some reason.
Plague lowered her weapon first, a larger than normal flail. She looked very sad for a moment. “Oh, Sasha...”
I tried to respond again when she trailed off; it took a couple tries. “What? I'm fine. Or at least I appear to be fine. I feel fine, at any rate. Why the hell are you all acting like this is a wake?”
I couldn't even look down at myself. Sure, I didn't feel any pain, and I seemed to feel all my limbs present and accounted for and I wasn't in any pain, but experiments sometimes did funny things.
“How about something to drink?”
Dustin and his team kept me covered while Ivan got me a glass – then put a straw in it. Alicia crowded close, her face stormy under her beard, but Ivan was acting on-the-job professional. He poured what smelled like water, which was a shame; I'd have preferred beer. I couldn't move my head; Ivan brought the straw close.
Alicia shook her said and muttered as I started drinking, the water a warm balm all the way down. “It's not fair. Not fair at all.”
“What,” I cleared my throat and tried again. “What isn't fair?”
The voice that responded, finally shaken free of the rust that had coated it, was a clear dulcet bell tone that straddled the line between tenor and soprano; it sounded as if it were singing when it wasn't. It also wasn't close to my own manly tones, and I looked around curiously for whoever was trying to imitate me – just for future reference, and not for any vengeance or anything.
Alicia just sighed. “Even the voice, damn it, it's not fair at all!”
Merlin stepped up. “So, Sasha. You're awake, right? Fully awake, and in control of your faculties? I'd be very interested in hearing of any side effects you may be experiencing.”
I tried again, and again the voice of an angel responded. “Well, other than my voice, I don't know. I don't think I feel any different.”
Yes, it was vague, but the way they were all looking at me (some of them still with weapons pointed; behavior I expect from Duncan but not anyone else) And other than the vague feeling of comforting, near stifling warmth, something which could be from the clothes I was wearing (I knew I was wearing something, I just couldn't see what it was with my head strapped down) I felt good. My senses seemed sharper than ever, and my body seemed sensitive. Judging from the muscle twitches, it felt more responsive than ever, and if the nerves felt slightly off, as if they were in the wrong place, what of it?
I felt alive.
Merlin persisted. “Do you hear any... voices?”
Idiot. “Of course I do, you're yapping at me after all, so I hear yours.” That came out as if it were sung, I'd need to work harder to roughen it up. Maybe I could deepen it a little if I tried?
The Gloom's lips turned upward slightly, and Plague snorted laughter; I winced, it wasn't a pleasant sound.
Merlin sighed behind a smile of his own. “I meant voices in your head.”
Voices like witches listened to, of course. “No, nothing of the sort.”
“And when you look at us, what do you see?”
Well, that was a weird question. And a bit ominous. I thought about it a minute. “Comrades. One of whom I owe for fucking up my manly voice.”
Deepening my voice made it worse, more of a low but light tenor. There had to be a way.... At least Merlin had the good grace to look guilty. He spoke up again, holding up my guns – I was beginning to get a little angry – I was still strapped down.
“What do you think of these, Sasha?”
“I think I owe you a bit more for touching my guns. If you get your dirty fingerprints on them....”
Well, trying to scratch up the voice didn't work either.
Merlin looked to Gloom, and Gloom nodded. “That's normal.”
A chorus of nods rippled around the rest of the peanut gallery. Merlin set them down gently and eased his hands away, and pointed to the generator on the table. “And that?”
“I think Emil must be pissed you ripped up one of his generators. What did you even do to that thing, anyway?”
Emil nodded with a smile as Merlin answered nonchalantly “Oh, just used it to graft a magic matrix to your body.”
Well, that explained that... wait, what? That was his process? A magic matrix was a bit of a theoretical doublespeak meaning the unknown bit of something attached to the person of the witch somehow in order to give them special powers; the thing that made them different. I wasn't really as caught up on the science-y side of things, being far more involved in... practical applications.
“You grafted a magic matrix to my soul?”
Merlin started popping cuffs, and Dustin's team tensed. The Gloom and Plague were relaxed, though, and – was Plague crying? “Yes. Only a few humans alive are capable of having such matrices applied, and fewer still are the males capable of undergoing the process. In all my testing I've only found two. And of course, it seems the process needs refined; there are side effects.”
I stretched languidly, and it felt as marvelous as I had suspected it would. I tried roughening up my voice again. “Things like my voice, right? I think I can deal with it. I'll just stop talking or something. Maybe take up smoking or something.”
Merlin Blushed and Plague burst into noisy tears. “Ah, not quite. In your case the process worked a little too well, I'm afraid. Look down, please.”
I looked down. I was dressed in something weird; it was a robe that looked like a dress, or a dress that looked like a robe. It was black, hugged every curve gently, but covered everything and reached my ankles.
I also had curves to fill it out; I had boobs and flared hips. The boobs were a bit more small than I preferred, but since they were hanging off of me that was probably for the best. A flash of color caught my eye, and I pulled some hair forward, it was both longer and darker than I was used to; a strawberry blonde that reached my chin and was a bit too close to red for my taste.
My hands were even smaller than before, and my wrists were so small they would probably break if I tried to lift my travel pack or generator. Bending slightly, I could see small, delicate feet with perfectly cut nails.
“Merlin.” I was proud of how even my new voice was. The Gloom tensed in his seat, where he was patting Plague's shoulder awkwardly.
“Yes, Sasha?” I looked; Merlin was in a dress, no doubt about what it was. A slight shuffle step towards my guns had everyone on edge, but he didn't notice.
“Who changed my clothes?”
“No one did, actually.” Merlin reached up and plucked something off my head; I felt cold instantly.
It was black and conical, with a wide brim and a top that was bent crooked. The stereotypical witch's or sorcerer's hat, such as was never actually seen on a witch. Merlin took a step back and I got even colder. The world began to recede as if I were seeing it from the end of a tunnel which was rapidly growing longer. Sounds, smells, even colors were muted, and my field of vision started to shrink.
I reached out to try and get the warmth and light back, only to watch as my hand slowly rose and get avoided easily. Something was wrong – it was very hard to focus, to care. I was back on the bed without any idea how I'd gotten there, and everyone was watching me with cold eyes.
And then the hat was back, placed firmly upon my head at what had to be a jaunty angle, and the warmth, sight, and sound snapped back immediately. If I hadn't already been on the bed, I might have fallen.
“What the fuck was that?”
I knew what it was, it was a witch's hat, or the effect of one. I had just felt it from the other side, what happened when a witch was deprived of her hat; I had been reaching, and would have gleefully followed that hat into a fire or a gas chamber.
It was a witch's hat and it was clearly mine, which meant....
Plague bolted out of her chair, past the Gloom, and grabbed me to her. “It's true Sasha my love! We have been parted most cruelly, our love forbidden for all time!”
She paused mid sob. “Well, at the very least our lust has been forbidden for all time. After all, how would....”
Na na na na, not hearing this, not hearing this! I shoved her off with effort and turned to the Gloom.
“So... I'm a witch.”
He nodded. I think he knew I had to ask.
“Fully a witch?”
“Fully a witch. Inside and outside.” Irene interrupted, answering for him.
Witches were female. There were no male witches. I wanted to double (and maybe triple) check, but Plague was creeping me out already and I didn't want to give her any more ideas.
“So what happens now?”
Gloom motioned the weapons down; most complied but Dustin ignored it.
“When the Wyld Hunt first started, the organization accepted some witches. Or rather, since witches were traitorous, some witches were given the option of servitude or death. It did not end well for us, but there are some artifacts left over from that time.
You have two options. One, you stay here – as a lab rat. Emil and Merlin have already expressed their favor for that plan."
Merlin nodded enthusiastically, almost throwing the ribbon from his hair with the force. “Yep! Think of all we could learn! Maybe we could refine the process and use it on the entire Hunt!”
Gloom and I shuddered together and tried very hard to ignore Plague's fresh bout of noisy sobbing. Gloom's voice was steady as he continued. “The other option is we take one of the old explosive collars, fit it to you, and send you back out in the field with a willing team of minders.”
Merlin decided he wasn't done creeping me out. “That could also work! Think of all the data that could be learned from our very own free-range witch!”
“I ain't no chicken, Merlin.” I noticed The Gloom didn't say anything about option three or four. I wasn't going to be allowed to die or 'retire'.
Merlin looked confused; The Gloom pressed on. “So, no voices?”
“No, I'm not hearing or seeing anything different.” I didn't think so, anyway. I looked around the room; it looked normal to me. The people in it looked like they should.
“Well, you're acting like you; what's your choice?”
A crappy choice was still a choice. My own words coming back to bite me. “The collar, of course. Who is going to be my handler?”
“Well, I haven't picked anyone yet. The list is a short one.” Of course, it was; it had to be someone willing and able to put me down if I started randomly killing people. Well... the wrong people. And not only willing, they had to be able; not just anyone would be able to take me if I went off the reservation, even with a full team. I could pretty much count the number of people who had a shot at doing it with my fingers.
I refocused on the Gloom; he hadn't stopped talking. “I can tell you that your team will be part of it.”
That was smart enough; if there was anything left of me when I went off the rails, I might hesitate to kill my old team, allowing them to kill me. Or I might go after them first, giving plenty of warning to set the collar off; really it could go either way.
Irene was wasting no time; she already had the table wheeled up with the collar on it. It was odd, a thin strip of platinum with a weird hook setup on both ends; the front center was slightly bigger and bulged, but the entire thing wasn't obvious and could be mistaken for some odd jewelry by those who didn't know any better. Beside it were two small hand-held trigger detonators; squeezing either would set the necklace off.
Irene reached around me and clicked the collar closed; I stayed very still while she took a tool resembling a screwdriver and tightened it shut. With a final squeak, it was done; the thing wouldn't come off until my head did, now.
Irene put a hand over my eyes. “What the heck?!?”
“Sorry. It's just these idiots forgot a detail. All safe now.”
She removed her hand and the triggers were gone; I didn't know who had which one, which was a reasonable precaution.
“Alright, you've seen it go on Gloom. We are now one hundred percent sure she isn't going to wake up and kill me, or anything similar. So get out, now I need to do my job.”
Her job consisted of poking me with needles and then probing places I had no business having with cold tools she had no business using. Now I knew why Alicia wanted to be a man so badly she disguised as one; I don't think Irene was fooled, though.
I also think one of the needles she poked me with added something instead of taking something; I had no other way to explain how I'd almost killed her twice, dead man's switch be damned, and yet hadn't.
I did find out no one dressed me; there was a time when no one was looking at me, and my clothes just changed. Which seems odd, considering what my body was doing at the time. The clothes change included new underwear of a matching style, something that didn't know whether it wanted to be plain cotton or lace, and chose both instead.
It had to mean something, but what?
Irene snagged my hat; I made a grab for her before everything slowed down, but missed. Something was different in my reach. I watched as she put the thing inside the glass case of a machine and hit buttons and levers for awhile. She threw it back over her shoulder; it landed squarely on my head, and just like that I was back.
“Can you re-size your hat?” Irene asked; she was carefully lowering her tools in some boiling water. Why she couldn't have done that before using them, I'll never know.
“No?” Could I? How would I even do that?
“Hm. Most witches instinctively know a little, usually a few tricks. For most of them, it's hiding their hats; you don't know any way to do that, or anything at all?”
I did know how to imbue my power (or at least what I felt must be my power) into generators. I could probably do it to my guns directly, too. But I had nothing on hats. Heck, I even hated hats... even ones so comfy you could forget you were wearing them.
“No, I got nothing for hats. I do have a way to charge a genny, but that's it.”
“Very odd. So not quite a witch then. At least, that's what it'll say in my official report.” Irene turned away and started cleaning up. There had been quite the vigil while I was out, and they had left a mess. Emil alone would have ensured no staff came down here. “Now get out Sasha, and don't come back.”
She said the same thing every time she saw me. “Sure thing Irene.”
The party was waiting outside, all of them. The Gloom had my guns in his hand.
“Could I have my guns back now, please?” I could be polite!
“I don't think so, Sasha. Not just yet. When you head out, sure. Until then I'll be keeping them. What did Irene say?”
I could deal with that for now, I guess. “She said I wasn't like a real witch. Something about not having the knowledge of one. Are you sure I can't have my guns back? They aren't even loaded.”
Okay, so maybe I couldn't deal with it. Irene had also said I was all woman sometime in that diatribe of hers, but Irene was a hack, and I wasn't able to focus very well when she'd taken my stupid hat.
“Speaking of, you might want to hide yours. Oh, and hand me your clothes.”
I looked at the Gloom as behind him, Plague and Alicia both slapped hands to their faces. Surely I hadn't heard that right, had I?
“What did you just say?” I mean, I wasn't going to display myself in a bra of all things, and we were heading back up to the lobby!
“Oh, right. My bad.” He gestured, and Sylvie handed me a bundle.
“That's your uniform. If you hide your hat, you might be able to pass.”
“If I'm going to try passing, I'll need my guns.” There was no way people wouldn't notice. The Wyld Hunt were all trained to be observant, and while I hadn't seen my own face yet, the changes I had seen would be more than enough to out me.
He sighed, and tossed them on top. “Sure. Just change already, and hide your hat. Use that storeroom there.”
I walked into it and made sure the coast was clear. Since it was standing room only, that wasn't hard to do.
The bundle not only contained a jacket shirt and pants, it contained a generator too. It looked like my generator, but picking it up revealed the truth; it was just the case with nothing else in it. It still had the plugs for my guns, though, so I settled it next to them on the belt, just like always.
The hat was a problem, but I settled for sliding it down the back of my tucked in dress shirt and putting the jacket on over it; The Gloom was always trying to make me dress respectably. The included boots and socks were a size smaller than I should be wearing, but they fit, and it beat going barefoot. Something about them bothered me, though; the design was similar to what I normally wore, but not the same.
“Button the jacket.” The Gloom ordered, and I did so.
We all made it out of medical and hit the lobby. No one gave me a second glance, though some focused on The Gloom or Plague, so that kind of made sense. I guess.
Sarah was on desk duty. “Hello, Mr. Gloom! Oh, Sasha, you're up already?”
“Yep! I'm pretty tough you know.” I winced; I'd just spoke up, forgetting about my new voice.
Sarah didn't notice or appeared not to. She had already turned back to her work. “Right. Good to have you back up and around.”
I was almost past when she looked up. “Sasha?”
We all stopped dead, even The Gloom. “Yes?”
“There's something different about you....”
she put her chin in a hand, leaning in, lost in thought for a moment. The snap of her fingers was as loud as a gunshot. “I've got it!”
“You do?”
“yes, you're wearing a dress shirt!”
Plague grabbed me to make sure I didn't fall over, her face a mute apology. For all the things Sarah could have noticed – the actual bustline, modest though it was, the hips, the hair color, hell even the fact that my eyelashes seemed to be longer somehow, the voice – and the shirt was what she picked up on?
It was fine. I was a man and could deal with the crushing sense of... something. Even if I wasn't a man anymore. But she didn't even know me well enough to notice I'd changed.
The Gloom led us into one of the weapons testing rooms. One of the private and hard to get ones. He just walked right in and told the hunter there to get out. Tall, grizzled and scarred like all our vets, the man left with a shrug. What was his name... oh right, Ash. Ashen Ash, the fire user, not to be confused with Boomstick, the really fun guy at parties.
The Gloom put my robe-dress thing on a target dummy, set it up downrange, and gestured.
“Dustin, could you do the honors? My power is overkill and the Plague's is hard to gauge.”
With a shrug and a look my way (yeah, eff you too buddy) he unlimbered his weapon and charged, slashing at the dummy.
“The clothing of a witch acts much like our own uniforms in a way, drawing strength from the witch and protecting her. Irene confirmed you had power but it may not be the same, so we're testing.”
Dustin completed some combo that was probably meant to be intimidating but just looked silly, finishing it with a move that drenched my dress-robe in water, then blanketed it in ice. The ice didn't stick, and the robe looked fine; I could see the shallow slashes on it from here, but they hadn't gone through and the dummy was still intact.
Man, Dustin was weak.
The Gloom walked up and took his own look, shooting glances my way while Dustin panted counterpoint.
“Well, that works. Usually, the strength of a witch can be determined by the level of attack their clothing can withstand.”
I nodded. Every hunter worth anything knew this. It was how they could survive sneak attacks from long range artillery. The clothing was usually weaker than hunter issue, but the witch usually had more active shields to make up for it. There had even been a theory that the level of a witch's hat taken could increase what attacks the hunter uniform could stand, but that hadn't really been proven.
Gloom continued. “Well, judging from this alone, I'd place you around about average for a witch in strength.”
Dustin laughed. “All that, all this effort and bullshit, and you slid backwards. That's priceless.”
“I'll show you backwards.” I took a step, and everyone tensed.
Sigh, fine. I held my hands up. “Alright, maybe I won't. Don't want to pick on the weak anyway; after all, who couldn't actually go through the cloth on the dummy, Dustin?”
Wow, that was a nice shade of purple he turned. “Any time you stuck up sorry excuse for a hunter! The ice ripple may not have gotten through, but the physical attacks went through like a charm.”
“Ice ripple? Did you actually name an attack ice ripple? Seriously? And the dummy still exists, so clearly something went wrong somewhere.”
“I was trying not to destroy a training room! You know, teach you some restraint, since the staff have to repair one every time you leave?!?”
The Gloom interrupted. “Charming discussion, children, but that was a good point just now. Sasha, your clothing seems to be more effective against magical than purely physical attacks. That is unusual, but not unheard of. It is, however, something to note and plan around; if an enemy gets close you stand a good chance of dying now.”
Well, that was true enough before; I'd always been a ranged fighter. I shrugged at him. He got mad, and turned to the dummy; the room went darker than the depths of a tar pit, oppressive and cloying. I hit the deck, knowing it was already too late.
Neither the dummy nor the dress survived.
The Gloom turned back to me, his eyes leaking black smoke. “This isn't a joke, Sasha. Nor is it a game. Not only do you have a chance of dying from witches, now you could well die from our own. I have to tell the other hunters; we wouldn't be able to hide this for long.”
He said that as if my chances of dying weren't stupid high before, with high level witches actively seeking my death. At least now I had a weapon I couldn't be deprived of in the fight; I could feel it under my skin, like a warm sluggish current or secondary blood system. But I wasn't about to tell him that. Any of it.
I was pretty sure he knew anyway.
“Alright. We have this room for the day. No one is leaving; Sasha, I suggest you practice.”
He stood there, hands in pockets, staring at me.
“Uh, don't I need my ammo for that?” I already knew the guns were empty, they were too light. There weren't any clips in the jacket either.
“Do you?”
I nodded. So we were playing that game.
“Alright, everyone else, practice things now.” They didn't have to be told twice; even Plague.
Gloom was close; I backpedaled but his hand reached out and latched onto my shoulder. The touch was oddly gentle but had no give. His other hand reached down and cupped my chin, making sure our eyes met. “Alright Sasha; what can you do? Anything at all?”
“I, uh, can't do anything. If you're expecting me to know that kind of crap, you're going to be disappointed. The only thing I can say I know for sure to do is charge a generator, and that's probably because I watched Merlin do it.”
He let go and assumed his thinker pose, which was basically just standing around with a hand propped under his chin. “Hm, a result of the lack of a familiar? Or something else... We've never had a witch 'born' without a familiar, so....”
I had to interrupt him, or he would theory me to death.“I don't know. But I can still practice other things. Moving, dodging, stuff like that. I just want you to know I can't do anything crazy.”
Okay, what had I ever done to deserve that look?
Okay, this week?
“Fine, I'll believe you. I'll be right back with some generators. For now, work on your CQC; warm up, and do the moves she taught you.”
Not, 'I believe you' or 'you're telling the truth', but 'I'll believe you', as if it was only his choice. “Which ones?” I did know several, after all.
“Whatever you want. I intend to field you as soon as possible, so you need to work the kinks out.”
Well, that at least was good news; I was half worried he'd keep me in central pushing papers. Plague tapped me on the shoulder – and I had heard her sneaking up on me before. I was in no way surprised, and I will swear to that. I most certainly did not give out the squeak of a stomped mouse and whirl around so fast my hair smacked my eyes.
Plague didn't say anything about it. “Want help with that? We could spar or just go through the motions; I know what you were taught after all.” Her grin was small and genuine, and not at all threatening; she didn't even show her teeth.
It was creepy.
“Um, sure.”
I started stretching, and Plague joined me after a moment. And boy, could I stretch. Muscles I was sure I didn't have moved in well-oiled concert, almost perfectly. Things were ever so slightly off, and I was sure Plague noticed.
Dustin and Ivan apparently noticed too; I grinned as Alicia clocked Dustin in the head after he stopped dead in the middle of a spar; that will teach him to stare at me! Rat-bastard. If he whips out a camera I'll kill him, bomb or no bomb.
I started with what I used most, and Plague frowned but followed along. My punches lacked some of their snap and my effective reach had changed, I could feel it. My kicking arc was different, and my balance was shot.
The Gloom returned before I could make some real headway in those departments, bearing a cart with more than a dozen generators on it. I sighed and looked at my fist; all the calluses were gone.
I recognized some of the generators, just like the Gloom had said; there was Ivan's, and Alicia's, put back together; there was Marcone's and Deet's, and right there was Fred's, and over there was... Sinister Sally's.
Most of the generators were unmarked, belonging to new or unknown hunters, and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. One the one hand, one EARNED their place among the Wyld Hunt, usually by killing a witch with as little charge in their genny to start with as we could manage; for some, that was zero. On the other hand, putting any charge into a newbies genny the old fashioned way (or even just equipping them) only to have them die was a waste. The Gloom was clearly wanted to stop or slow that down; who knows, maybe sending newbies out with fully charged generators will help? Not that I could see how exactly, a newbie was a newbie.
The other generators, however....
Marcone, Fred, and Deet were veterans, all a year or so older than I was, all with at least a dozen confirmed kills to their credit. Well Fred might not be that high yet, but he was close; the three were good solid hunters, who from just judging how bad their gennys looked, all got hit hard. But all three were usually on different teams, and their team-mates gennys weren't on the cart.
Sinister Sally worked alone; she was like Plague in that she used generator enhanced poisons, but unlike Plague in that she preferred to use them as a poisoner would; from a distance and over time. She was the Wyld Hunt's assassin, killing witches too powerful and high profile for most using means even the Hunt found questionable. To have her generator here meant she had tried all her usual tricks, running it empty – and failed to get the kill.
“Go ahead Sasha.”
I realized I'd been staring while The Gloom had been getting more impatient. At least he wasn't biting my head off. I decided not to test my luck.
The first generator was unmarked, and as I thought, it was an empty blank. With a shrug I filled it and moved on; someone was going to get a nice surprise.
Then I realized I was an idiot. Well, a smart idiot, but even smart guys (or gals) can screw up sometimes! Filling all these would probably be impossible for me. But The Gloom hadn't said fill them, he'd said give them a charge; how much was up to me. Generators were all standard in capacity; there weren't any tricks there. They had to be when carrying anymore charge made them unstable bombs more dangerous to the hunter than the prey. So using the first as a guide, I realized I could probably half fill them.
An hour of mind-numbing tedium later, and it was done. And if Sinister Sally's generator had just a little less than half charge, well no one would know but me... and possibly her. It was for a good cause since just getting it close had made me dizzy. And given me some of the symptoms of my hat being gone, when it clearly wasn't.
For the first time in an hour, someone spoke in the room. “That's the best I can do. Sally's is a bit less than half, but it's as close as I can make it right now.”
Now why had I said that? The perfect crime, and I'd unmasked it!
“I'll be sure to tell her. The others?”
“All half charge.” I wasn't about to tell him about the first. He'd chew me out over proper recharging or whatever.
“Alright, that will do. Go get some rest, Sasha; you look like you could use it.”
I didn't want to get some rest; I'd just been in bed a few hours ago. But moving was such a chore right now. “Alright.”
The Gloom looked surprised when I headed for the door. What?
“I do still use my old room, right?”
He nodded. “Yes. I just expected more of an argument.”
I was too tired for that. I was even too tired to object when the Plague came along, attaching herself firmly to my hip for the walk. We didn't earn more than a second glance, and more than a few people waved at me while firmly ignoring Plague.
I was not too tired to object to her getting into bed with me.
“Get out vile woman!”
She just laughed. Just laughed! If my guns were loaded, I'd... well I'd probably not shoot at her; it might piss her off and she was better than me.
“Sleep well, Sasha.” she said, blowing a kiss at me and backing out the door, still laughing.
I couldn't really move all that well, but my eyes worked. My room had been ransacked. Oh, it still looked mostly the same, with the trash and clothes in almost the same spots, but it was ever so slightly off. A rush job, and if I ever found out who, they were getting fired. The one thing I was certain of, was all that all of my ammunition and bullet making equipment was gone.
I was defenseless.
Nothing I could really do about it. Maybe whoever it was stationed outside would protect me if I needed it. Maybe not.
…....
“So, what do you think?” she asked, rejoining the others where those in the know were quarantined.
“He... No, she – was able to half charge a dozen generators alone, in one sitting. If Merlin and Irene are right, and her connection is incomplete... well, her blood tells. As it stands now, she's mid-range for them; even without the new jewelry a team could dispatch her. If I have to, Sally can do it; she's back in Central with a freshly charged generator.”
“Devious.” Plague countered.
Gloom shrugged. “Not really, her latest target took every poison she could make and laughed. Found her, confronted her on it, then let her live. Her title as one of the four is well earned.”
“Well, you did warn Sally when she took the contract, didn't you? Your hands are clean.”
Gloom shrugged again, absorbed in watching the kids fight. “Hardly clean, but of course I warned her; I do what I can. It's all falling apart, Tonya. I thought we'd have another generation, that I wouldn't see it, but it's happening now; they get stronger each year, and we get weaker. We won't be able to keep up at all five years from now, no matter what I do. Within twenty it'll just be witches fighting among themselves for what's left.”
Plague slugged him in the shoulder then sat beside him, pulling out a flask. “Enough of that, though I agree with you. Unless something changes, humanity is done. But that's why we're trying to change things. It's also why I don't murder you for doing unspeakable things to my sister's cute little apprentice; humanity needs you too much.”
Gloom sighed and took the proffered flask. “At this point, I'm not sure I'd stop you. Maybe you should have this job.”
Tonya watched as he drained the flask, frowning. “You were supposed to share. We both know I'm not strong enough for the job; the leader is supposed to be the strongest, and that's you. And in another few years, it was supposed to be Sasha. Too bad on that.”
Gloom shuddered, passing the empty flask back. “I actually think we dodged a bullet there.”
Tonya put the flask away, in the secret compartment built specifically into her generator. “I don't know. The kid's smarter than you think. Maybe smarter than we both think. I can almost see the gears working; she was testing you earlier.”
“Oh?”
“You gave her a bomb collar. She put it on without question. Complied with every order you gave, didn't smack Irene around for something unpleasant she has no frame of reference for and something most of us would, and the only thing she asked you for in return were her guns. The guns that are the only thing Sasha has left of her. Not the ammo; she never asked for the ammo, just the guns. And until it was necessary for appearance's sake, you wouldn't hand them over.”
Tonya stood, offering a hand. “You failed that one, Gloom. You're seeing a witch already when you should be seeing a person who was willing to give everything to protect their friends and see a mission through. Now let's go, we have an unpleasant announcement to make; I know you hoped for one, but there isn't any way to hide what happened; it'll only make things worse.”
Gloom took the hand and stood. They walked out shoulder to shoulder.
Fall had come in with a vengeance. Most of that vengeance had been in the form of screams of pain and burning, so the reports said. I was on a train, headed to the Greek border. Riddle, the second of one of the more bloodthirsty of the four, one Suspira, had been spotted at a small town there. The town just so happened to be one of the places where train engines were still made, at a secret factory underground. So far Riddle hadn't found it yet, but she was jerking the entire populace around in one of her mazes, so it was only a matter of time before one of them cracked.
There was always one, after all, in any group.
I looked up from drumming my nails on the table in front of me... I had managed to cut them down, I didn't want them interfering with my trigger pulls, but the memory of the perfectly shaped nails was not one I could shake so easily. I still had the strawberry nail polish on them because Alicia wouldn't tell me how to remove it. I'd tried to ask Sylvie, but she hadn't said a word to me; not even a hello. Sarah just didn't see me at all. She said hello, but didn't even glance my direction when I tried to ask.
I'd find some way to get this paint off... even if it killed someone.
Speaking of Sylvie, she and the rest of Dustin's team were on the train, watching me. Diesel was off playing pool in the game car (which seemed like a dumb idea to me, I mean the train was moving) with Dustin, but Sylvie was right there, staring. The presence of Plague to my right at the bar was the only thing that kept me from going over there to ask her what her problem was. After all, I was pretty sure Plague had the remote to my collar, and well... it was Plague. I didn't want to move too much and attract her notice. Heck, I didn't dare ask her about the paint, for fear she take that as interest and start painting my face.
She'd already had her way with my clothes, I wasn't about to give her any other encouragement.
I was in plainclothes and not a Hunt uniform, but the pants were tight and hard to move in, the shirt was just small all over, and the boots went halfway up my knees. It all clashed with my hat, but I had no idea how to make the thing shrink or hide the way witches did. Or other witches did.
Because I was officially a witch; the announcement had been made while I'd been asleep. The Gloom hadn't lied at least, he'd said outright that it was because of a Wyld Hunt experiment gone wrong, and hadn't omitted his own blame. Though he hadn't thrown Emil or Merlin under the bus either. The results of the announcement were mixed.
On the one hand, some apparent sympathy had been generated; they could keep their pity. On the other hand, I'd received my fair share of 'the enemy among us' looks while gearing up and checking out for our current mission – as if they were waiting for me to snap. I couldn't really blame them for that either, but it was annoying.
It wouldn't be nearly as annoying if I actually knew how to do the things they suspected me of, oddly enough. As it was, all the stares and whispers had made me... uneasy.
“We're going to have to do something about that hat of yours when we arrive.” Plague said, idly rolling an empty shot glass across the bar.
“I'll handle it when I get in uniform.” Getting geared up was more serious now; some girls in the Hunt had been confused as witches before, and attacked while doing their duty. If I showed up in plainclothes next to a bunch of hunters, there would be talk. Such talk wouldn't be limited to whispers out here.
“Yeah, good plan. The seamstress should be done altering the uniform by the time we arrive.”
I felt a cold pit open in my gut. My danger sense was going off, with full dread. I turned to Plague and asked, as casually as I could. “You actually bought a seamstress on the train with us?”
“Of course. We can't have hunters looking bad, it reflects on all of us!”
I goggled. While she looked clean and kept, with only her wild hair betraying her, and Sylvie looked imma....immac... whatever that word was, many was the hunter that looked like a bum. In fact, bum was my favored look; it stuck out less, even when in uniform. Do it right, in fact, and you were wearing the uniform without looking like it.
Wait a minute... why did I care about having a uniform made to fit me? I could just pick up a stock one from somewhere, the main thing was the jacket anyway. And how did the seamstress know my sizes anyway? Wasn't stealing my clothes enough for Plague?
It wasn't. “Don't give me that look, us hunters on the other side of the fence have different considerations regarding image. Considerations that mean we can't just throw anything on and go in the morning. If you'd simply stayed on your side of the fence we wouldn't be having this conversation.”
Great, she was mad. I'd have to check my bed for fleas every night. And my drinks for a little extra. At least she can't rot certain things off like she threatened once. One of the worst ways to be safe, but it was still safe.
“I don't think I'll really have that problem.” Sure I wouldn't; I didn't really look all that different – and I'd only been mistaken for a witch by people who didn't know me one – dozen or so times. Not that often, really.
At least it was fewer times than Alicia had on being confused for a girl.
The only thing I really needed to worry about were my guns anyway. It would be pretty hard to mistake me for a witch with those visible. I'd also be wearing a 'generator' – which was only a case; the Hunt didn't want to risk a real generator on me, and technically it should be useless for me anyway. I could feel the connection of my guns, after all – that connection they had to my old generator still there, and something I could feel out and push my new power down.
All it took was a touch. I was fairly sure that I could shoot my biggest toys, too. Well provided they didn't break my arms; A quick glance at my chicken-boned wrists showed how likely that was. If I had any bone in my arm bigger than a pencil I would be amazed. Shooting my normal guns hadn't been an issue so far at least, so I was able to contribute.
My ammunition had been returned and I was allowed to take a few shots at dummies before we left. The recoil had been enough to give me pause, but there was nothing wrong with my aim. Well, at least against stationary targets.
The power flowed from my hands to the ammunition, converting it to the good stuff, and a full salvo from the colts barely caused a dip in the warmth I felt, the lava warming me from the inside like a liquid hug. It flowed like a trapped animal, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, always pacing.
...And I was getting way too poetic. Next thing you know, I'd be writing books or something.
I could probably stuff my hat into the generator casing, next to the ammo I was keeping there (since my current clothes didn't have pockets for some stupid reason). I mean, it was armored and all, but the idea weirded me out for some reason. I needed skin contact, which meant the plan of just dropping it back down my uniform shirt and trusting my jacket to conceal it was still on.
Yeah, nothing could ever go wrong with that foolproof plan. At least I'd be able to do that with the uniform shirt; the one I had on now wouldn't even cover the full surface of the hat.
I stared out the window and watched the scenery roll by. Farmland and some gentle hills, mostly, rather dark even in the sunshine. It was kind of a regional thing or something. It made me want a drink. Then again, this whole situation seemed to signal happy hour for me.
The next thing that slid across the bar was a bottle, and it was full. A mojito, really?
Oh well, there was rum in it; that was something.
The next thing that slid down the bar was a book; an old one on police procedure and tactics? “What is this for?”
“To read, silly. You look bored. Go ahead, it won't bite you.” Plague replied.
I wasn't so sure of that; I'd seen what happened to people who read these things. It became like a drug addiction or something, and the next thing you knew you were like Emil, locked in a dark basement somewhere and cackling while you thought up your next evil plan.
“Go ahead, there are some useful tidbits for fighting witches in towns in there. Something better than the 'make a stink and hope she's arrogant and comes to you' plan you seem to favor.”
I saw no reason to reinvent the wheel. “That is what works best.”
“Only for witches with egos. Or ones that fear the hunt. When your prey is neither, what do you do?”
I turned to her, frowning, the liquor already warming, competing with the – other stuff. “I wouldn't know, it's never happened.”
“Well, that's probably true,” Plague stated with a frown, then saluted me with her bottle. “In that case, I'll tell you. You miss. Your prey goes underground and gets away. Proper investigative techniques, more than just asking random people if they've seen anything odd, can be useful. So can the combat section. If nothing else, the section on hostage takers and negotiation is worth the read.”
I drained the bottle; another slid down the bar. “You think I don't know that stuff? You really think I don't know how useful observation is, real observation? You really think I don't know how to ask questions, the right questions? If I've gotten lazy at all, it's because the prey has too. They used to actually hide; they aren't doing that now. The last witch we tracked? She was just living in a cave outside of town, and leading anyone and everyone right to her with her stupid guards! Seriously, the modern witch is stupid. Doing all that investigative crap is a job for the scouts, and they are welcome to it.”
And if I didn't find the strongest witches, the truly old, doing things my way – well, they would come to me, or I'd find out what rock they'd crawled under. I had found Olivia, after all.
“Speaking of the scouts, have you ever given thought to joining them?”
I almost dropped my new bottle. What was she on?!? The scouts were amazing, I had nothing but respect for them. But basically, they were glorified paid informants, people who tracked down the strange and unusual and called in the tips to us. Many of them didn't even travel, just settling down in order to get a feel for a place, and then calling us when a new witch came to town.
None of them fought, their shield was their invisibility; they could be anyone. Their sword was a call to us. Weapons could out them as unusual after all, get them arrested... or 'encouraged' to move on, in some places. Not even the Hunters knew who they were, and mistakes could always happen. Being a scout was gutsy in the extreme.
That said, there was no way I could see a witch and not fight. I could tell, as I met Plague's eyes, that she knew it too.
She sighed. “Right, just not in you to give up the fight, retire to some out of the way place with a hot tub and mountain view, and charge our gennys when we stop by.”
That was oddly specific and sounded more than a little wistful. And the way Plague was staring off into space was a little creepy.
Too much attention from Plague could be a very terrible thing. I opened the book to cover myself; if I appeared to be busy she would go back to spinning glasses around and leave me alone. It seemed to work, though she still stared at me.
What was really creepy was that Sylvie still hadn't said a word. As far as I could tell, she hadn't even moved. Her gaze was on the scenery outside the left of the train, but her focus was on me; I could feel it.
I didn't blame her really, if the view to the left matched my view to the right, only the things inside the train were worth looking at here.
The book was boring. Well, except for the combat section. Some of the way street to street was mentioned was very familiar. The tactics using high numbers of people were rather stupid, it was just asking a witch to notice and fireball a busy street, but they probably worked for the time.
And then I could stop torturing myself because the train was slowing. We were entering the town. What was the name of it again? Radish, radiation...Oh right, Radomsko. It didn't seem to be much, but was bigger than I expected; the sign said the population was just over twenty-six thousand. There could be more than that... but the entire place was empty. There wasn't even a dog barking in the distance to break the silence.
We slid to a stop smoothly, right in front of the station. A discarded piece of paper caught my attention briefly as the train's passing disturbed it. A newspaper from the looks of it, and it was yellow. It had taken us two days to get here, so very few should be dead. And just as important, the engine plant hadn't yet been found out, so no one had turned.
I got up, but Plague stopped me. “Uniform, Sasha, and your hat. Next car over, room 4.”
Oh, right. I took the hat of and started to the back. I wanted some fresh air and direct sunshine, but the rules said we should stay put and watch for ambush. Not that I cared about the rules, but if I couldn't be first off the train it was best to be seen following them.
It was scary how quickly I could forget about the hat. How natural it was. I found room number 4 and knocked.
“Get in here, Sasha.”
I knew that voice. Out of all the seamstresses in Central, Plague had to get her? She does good work and all and worked fast when needed, but she was a mean old biddy. I plastered a smile on; best to get this over with.
“Auntie Adeline, how are you?”
She looked the same as ever, except maybe smaller. She seemed to shrink more every year. Now she was up to my shoulder. Her wrinkles had wrinkles, but her hair was tied in bun so tight it seemed to straighten her face out. Her gnarled hands were working on a dressmaker's dummy... a female one. The lower half of the uniform was a black skirt with white pinstripes, to match the jacket.
She looked up from the sleeve she was fondling, her eyes crystal clear and intense. “Cut the shit and get over here.”
I got over there. She gave me a once over and started around. “Even more scrawny, aren't you? You need to eat more.”
Then she groped my ass. I shook her hand off and gave her my best glare. “You still have good muscle tone at least. Good to see Plague was right about the measurements. I thought she was lying to me.”
“You should have known better.” Nobody lied to auntie Adeline.
She smacked me in the arm. “Well? Strip, we don't have all day. Try it on.”
I stripped while Auntie Adeline took a cigarette out of the silver case she always carried, and lit up.
Taking the skirt off the dummy gently, I put it on first. Skirts weren't exactly my choice in uniform code; they didn't protect anything and didn't have pockets. With my old gear, my clothes would form a barrier; the generator would shunt power through them. But with the female hunters, skirts weren't exactly unpopular; how did they handle it?
“My legs are going to get shot off.”
Auntie Adeline took a drag and blew a long smoke ring. “It was short notice. Deal.”
I was a bit less gentle with the shirt. “Thank you ever so much for your concern.”
Auntie snorted. “Just don't get hit. Rely more on that ridiculous speed of yours. Or wear long socks.”
Hm, she was right, I could do that. “You don't happen to have any of those handy, do you?”
She took another drag from her cigarette. “Nope. Didn't think to pack them. Here.”
There was a sort of sleeve in the white dress shirt, set on either side of my shoulder blades. Auntie snagged my hat and folded the top of it. Even though I felt the pull, the terrible feeling of my self contracting, I kept my twitching hands to my sides and watched.
Auntie Adeline settled the sides of my hat in the sleeves, leaving plenty of space to contact my shoulder blades. She handed the shirt back, and I put it on as fast as I could. Which was a bit slower than I could normally move; Auntie watched with open curiosity.
As soon as the shirt settled I felt better and finished in no time.
I wasn't a judge of skirts, but the one I had on hugged my hips without clinging to them. The shirt fit perfectly, with just enough space to tuck in and not bind at all. Shrugging the black jacket on was a breeze, and it fit too. A glance in the full-length mirror placed off to the side confirmed the guess that with the jacket buttoned I'd look like an undertaker or something. Well, if undertakers wore skirts.
Also, the shirt seemed to do something to my figure. Or maybe it was the jacket. I unbuttoned it.
Something cloth like slapped me in the face, and I caught it. “I did have time to pack some of those.” Auntie Adeline said, starting another cigarette.
I unfolded what appeared to be gray shorts. Very small stretchy gray shorts.
Auntie Adeline took a drag from the fresh cigarette. “Don't give me that look. That's your size. Put them on so you can kick without giving everyone a free show.”
Spoken like someone who had never been in a fight to the death before. I pulled them on to shut her up and put my new boots back on, and I was done. I looked at Auntie, and she grunted.
“You'll do, I guess. Now get out of here. There are a few more uniforms just like that one, they will be in your room by the time you get back, but that's no excuse to roll in the dirt like you always do. Don't make more work for me.”
“Got it.” I was out the door before she could say anything else. That went well, really, she was downright pleasant today. She was probably in a good mood due to the suffering of others; like a vampire or ghost or demon, something like that.
I went out the nearest door, turning my face into the sun and closing my eyes. The breeze smelled fresh, and it wasn't too hot or cold. Even if it was a bit more breezy than I was used to in the leg region.
“Sasha?” Ivan asked. I turned to face him, to find him looking at my skirt.
He looked up and I shrugged when his eyes got far enough. “I had to look the part, Ivan.” Now more than ever went unsaid, but he understood it.
“But still, isn't that... impractical?”
I nodded. “Sure is, but Auntie Adeline was behind it.”
Ivan shuddered; he was even less of a fan of the old lady than I was... She liked him. And wasn't that all kinds of terror to think about? “I suppose that explains it.” He settled on, finally.
I knew how he felt. But looking past him I found a mystery. Alicia had seized up again, eyes wide, and was muttering. She hadn't bothered to find my eyes yet, her own eyes still on my clothes. Behind her, Dustin was doing much the same; I adjusted my holsters and drew.
“Alicia, am I going to have to shoot you?”
That snapped them both out of it, Alicia took a step back, hands out, even as Dustin's face hardened. “Save it for the witch Sasha.”
The or else was silent, but it was there. Dustin made it more clear, by almost raising his weapon. Which was pretty gutsy, since we both knew he wasn't fast enough. If anything, I was faster now. Whatever; I eased off and put my colt away.
“Sometimes you have to act to get Alicia's attention, Dustin. You of all people should know that.”
This scene and these people were boring. I passed Diesel on my way to meet up with Plague, and he fell into step beside me easily, without a word to break the now easy silence. The only sour note there was how he had to hold back to match my stride. We all grouped up, split up into our groups again, and walked through the empty station. It looked to have been left in a hurry; there were bags and stuff everywhere; I could almost picture the milling, screaming crowd.
The town was a maze, but not Riddle's kind of maze. It was empty, however, with the food in the market starting to rot. There was less stuff here, scattered around. Some small pools of blood. And in the town square, there were four bodies, all headless, all cut in several places and bled out. No sounds at all, except for the flies.
As senior and more powerful hunter, Plague had command. “Diesel, Ivan. Cut them down and bury them. Sasha, North. Alicia, West. Dustin, East. Sylvie get South.
We settled into the cardinal points, watching for ambush as Plague double-checked the bodies for traps. I wasn't too worried. Sure, Riddle had done as much before, but she knew that we knew it. So if she were going to spring an ambush on us, she'd have done it before now.
Burying the fallen and giving last rights went without incident. More importantly it went fast; the wonders of all our practice. Plague recited the correct prayers herself.
Then she polled us. “Thoughts?”
Well the mission was still to find the townspeople. “The most likely place for one of Riddle's mazes is Northeast; just outside of town is a huge field and farmland she can take over. She doesn't like to walk too far out of her way after all; she's lazy.”
Everyone was frowning at me now. Plague had asked for opinions, and I'd given mine first. Clearly, they didn't like that. I raised my hands and stretched; the sky was very blue and very empty. It always paid to look up.
It took a moment, but the others stopped glaring and stepped up. Ivan was first: “I know standard procedure, but it would be a bad idea to split up. If we do and find the maze, it will separate us.”
Dustin's response was immediate – and stupid. “Why? It's simple, whoever finds it you simply pop a flare and wait at the entrance for the rest of us.”
Plague answered before I could. “Because Riddle's maze can shift, and sometimes the entrance just swallows you. At least, that's what I've heard.”
I wondered who she heard that from; there weren't many to escape Riddle's mazes. None of us had met Riddle before, not even Plague. It would be interesting to see how those powers offset each other.
“Alright, everyone take a point. Stay within sight, go high, and scan for the maze.”
“Northeast,” I called and started off. No one objected, picking their own directions.
I ran to the edge of town, right where the buildings started doing that petering out thing they tended to do. I picked a bakery and entered, heading upstairs through the back with no hesitation. It was three stories, with a balcony. It was as empty as the rest of the town of course, and with luck the baker and his family – I spotted a stuffed lion and a wooden train set among the scattered stuff – would never know I was here.
The balcony was nice, if bare. There was a small rooftop garden, some vegetables, and flowers. And pretty much right where I predicted was a large maze, made of plant matter. I pulled my mini-flare gun and set it off, just as I saw a flare streak through the sky just to the north of me.
My binoculars revealed the maze was made of wheat and vines, so that was a field after all; Riddle tended to use the local plants.
Regardless of what it was made of, it would be deadly to anyone inside it.
I really didn't want to walk down the stairs. I really hadn't thought this plan through enough. I had a grapple I could use, but that would mean leaving it behind. One of the houses near this one was a two-story, and one next to it was a single story. Screw it, that was my way down.
I took a running start and all but floated over the narrow street gap, hitting the other side easily with a soft thump; the roof didn't even give. It was an angled surface but it took less than a second to adjust my balance and stop the slide. Another small run and I hit the next roof over, making even less noise; a small adjustment and I was back on the ground with none the wiser. I gauged the jumps from this angle; they weren't anything I would have hesitated at before, and not bad at all. It was nice to know my body still worked.
I might have needed a little less effort to sling myself around, but it was hard to say. The run to Plague seemed faster too. I wasn't sure why that was since I wasn't taller. Was I lighter? I wasn't smaller, so I shouldn't be lighter. But I felt lighter, somehow. I set off another flare, showing anyone coming to my last location that I was on the move to meet up with Plague.
It was probably a waste of a flare at this point, but it was standard procedure, drilled into hunter heads from childhood.
I reached Plague first; she was hanging out on top of a carriage house, of all things. Like everything else, it was silent; there were no horses. She was also farther away from the maze than I had been. I joined her on top to find her peering over the lightning rod. A good way to get hit in my opinion, but Plague was Plague.
Ivan was next, but he stayed off the roof and settled for scanning around the maze. Alicia was next, and joined Ivan silently, scanning closer to us.
Dustin, Diesel, and Sylvie showed up all at once, walking right down the road. Plague jumped down.
“Alright, are we ready? Food and water and relief bags all packed?”
“Same as a half-hour ago, Plague.” I stated as I landed easily next to her. “Let's go. Riddle already knows we're here.”
It was best to assume that, and for some reason, I was sure I was right. Well, more sure than usual.
Plague stepped in front of us and turned on her heel, back to the maze. I wasn't sure I'd do that even from this distance, but I'd keep an eye on it anyway. “Alright, it shouldn't have to be said, but I'll say it anyway. The priority here is the hostages. We save as many as we can, and killing the witch is secondary. To that end, we're all going in; if Riddle feels her escape route is open, she's more likely to take it instead of killing everyone.”
Or she'd just kill everyone on her way out; it wasn't like she couldn't do both. I guess there was some doubt about how much control she had over the mazes she set up, but even if the answer wasn't total, it was close enough. Whatever, I wasn't in charge. But killing Riddle would save many lives, so if I saw the shot, I was taking it.
Nothing jumped out at us on the walk over. I belatedly realized our contact for this mission was missing when I spotted the crude wooden smiley faced welcome sign in front of the entrance to the normal looking topiary style maze. Perhaps he'd been smart and pulled out.
Plague didn't even hesitate. I was right behind her.
A few steps in and the maze was cool and dark. The sky was still visible above the ten-foot walls, but the potential route to freedom was an illusion. Any attempt to scale the walls would be met with thorns. Very big thorns. Any attempt to use ladders or something similar would rapidly have the tools stolen by the same plants, and more thorns. The same happened if you tried to mark the walls or leave a trail; the maze absorbed it.
Riddle didn't like it when you cheated.
But Plague had to have a plan for that.
“Sasha, take point.”
That made a certain amount of sense; in here my range would be limited unless I wanted to shoot through my allies. Putting me in front to deal with enemies coming, or behind to deal with enemies trying to back-stab were the only two options.
Behind me, Plague plunged a knife into the ground, carving an arrow into the dirt; observing the formalities, I supposed. At least it was better than the spray paint attempt. I covered the front and Plague tapped me the direction she wanted me to go. We didn't speak.
It didn't take long for us to be completely lost, even with the 'always left' trick. That was pretty much to be expected. What wasn't expected was the complete lack of any efforts to kill us. For hours. The only other motion beside us was leaves in the wind.
I had resorted to bubble gum since there were no asses to kick. Dustin getting angry at my loudly popping blown bubbles was a nice bonus.
Even making noise, nothing jumped out to die.
There were birds here and there, perching on the vines. Too bad they were vultures.
It took hours to find the center, which told me Plague at least knew a little of what she was doing – or Riddle was bored and helping us.
The center was large; it had to be to hold all the townspeople we were searching for. They were huddling and gathered around a wooden stage. The wooden stage that Riddle was on, holding a blade to what could only be our informant. Behind the informant were five headless corpses, rotting in the sunlight while the vultures looked on.
Riddle was tall and very thin, with tangled brown hair that resembled her vines and some visible facial scars. She looked a bit like a model from the last century – after the drugs and a hundred miles of hard road. She was also spattered with mud and her dress was ripped in places.
“Ah, right on time, fearless hunters!” The informant opened his mouth, to yell probably, and Riddle slit his throat and kicked him off the stage in a spray of blood.
I guess her arm got tired while she waited on us.
For whatever reason, though, it was a mistake because it left me clear. I drew and opened up, putting six shots toward her center of mass before she was even completely clear of the body.
They were all blocked by suddenly rampant plant growth, erupting from the stage itself. I cracked the gun and reloaded while Riddle laughed and the others charged. The good townsfolk ran as one away from the stage but stopped short of the exits and walls.
“Let's play a game, mighty hunters!”
Riddle feinted left and dodged right, barely avoiding a javelin and a whip extended her direction.
“Escort the town back home. Succeed, and you get to keep them! Fail, and they are mine!” She floated back into the vines as our attacks converged, and vanished from sight.
So, the same game she always wanted to play, pretty much. Just with more people this time; usually she only took hunters hostage.
Usually she killed her victims outright, and we only found out later that it was her from the signs and dead vegetation she left behind.
The way we came closed itself off, of course, and grew thorns as long as my forearm. The other way out stayed open.
“Ivan, Sylvie, Alicia, Deisel, get the civilians up and moving.” Plague stated, turning her attention to the West wall as she motioned Dustin and I close. I faced East as I moved, and Dustin looked North, away from the rest of the team.
“What do you think?” Plague asked softly once we were close enough.
I replied first. “I think she's in her game mode. If she was at all serious, the hostages would have already been dead. This was something to draw hunters out.”
“She's going to play fair, at least as much as she ever plays fair. The way out was premade.” Dustin added.
Plague nodded slightly. “That's what I think too. We will have to split up, though, to cover the hostages, if we decide to play her game. She can pick us off at will then.”
“If we don't split up, we will have to leave the hostages and try to corner her.” Dustin mused.
It was highly unlikely we could corner Riddle; none had before. She could simply vanish into her maze and cover more ground, trapping us with thorns, spikes, and pits all the while. I took a look at the hostages; I could tell at a glance they had been here days, even if I hadn't known from the briefing. Gaunt and with the beginnings of illness spreading through them, they had been waiting for us. It was unlikely they would wait and sit still while we left to track Riddle, even if Riddle would leave them alone while we tried.
“Be on your guard. Sasha, you'll be point. I'll be second, and Dustin you'll be behind me. I'll go give the rest their assignments.” I stopped Plague with a hand and shoved my small bag at her.
“Food and water from the town. I just happened across the stuff. Give it to whoever you think is worst off; anyone too sick or dehydrated to keep up could kill us all.”
Plague gave me a searching look and I shrugged. I still had my own stuff; I wouldn't risk my own long term combat effectiveness.
Plague went to talk things out, while I took my position near the 'exit'. As point, it was my job to watch this direction and the portal for threats. Dustin followed me a bit – he looked like he had something on his mind. Whatever it was, he didn't speak of it before Plague came back and took up position. The townspeople were slower at it, of course.
“Range?” I asked Plague, already dreading the answer as the broken scarecrows shuffled up behind me.
“Close.” She replied, confirming what I thought. Normally the job of point required me to range far ahead of my team, but with Riddle the past encounters were clear; we stuck very close, or we got very separated.
How any of us were supposed to just keep random thorns from skewering people as they walked past I didn't really know.
As we set off, the villagers in single file behind me close enough to touch, relying solely on Riddle's mercy seemed to be the plan – and it seemed to be working.
“And who are you, young lady? Which hunter?”
I didn't see any reason not to answer. “Sasha Norre.”
“The m..marksman?” the speaker stuttered out. He was an older gentleman, large and well built, balding and all the more worse for wear after having been starved for days. I could smell traces of oil on him, not too different than my own stuff.
“That's what they call me,” I told him. One little glance back was all he got; my eyes had to be front.
“So, Plague, the Trident, and you... all for us. We are in good hands, it seems.”
I couldn't deny that; Dustin Plague and I were a lot of named firepower in one place. “The best available. It may not help with Riddle; she's going to target you and yours first I think.”
No real sense giving them false hope.
“I know,” He replied, quietly. “The mayor and the town council are back there. Supposedly the witch used their heads to mark the exits - after interrogating them of course. We don't think she got what she was after there. Plague wouldn't even let us bury them.”
I could understand his feelings but now wasn't the time. “Honestly, no time to waste on that. Riddle will leave the bodies alone and go after the living. Assuming any of us survive, you can always come back; your friends have waited a few days, they can stand to wait a few more.”
He could come back for the five in the square, and whoever else we lost. We needed to get out or kill Riddle before we died of thirst.
Plague had already gone over the plan with me. Two lefts and a right, two lefts, and a right; that way it would be easy of us to backtrack if we needed to. Sylvie was to write the turns down just in case. We would find out in a hurry if Riddle was playing this straight.
Nothing happened the first left or the second; not so much as a twitch in the vegetation. The first right, however, there were shouts behind us. I almost took that extra step; the one that would allow vines to shoot in behind me, cutting me off. They didn't so much as twitch.
Word came from up the line, whispered from one person to the next. The smith delivered the verdict to me, leaning over as if to mouth who he was crushing on. “One dead, impaled from by vines. Supposedly he stepped too close to the walls; far back of the line, but not the end of it.”
I nodded to show I understood and took the right.
A click and I was diving back; something flashed in front of me and cloth ripped.
Riddle had been busy; a blade trap had sprung up from perfectly normal looking ground, triggered by my foot on a pressure plate. The blade wobbled back and forth, glinting in the sun. The blade had missed my leg but cut a neat slit in the front of my skirt. I guess I couldn't just stroll along anymore.
I passed the word back. “Beware, traps are set in the paths.”
I'd only taken a few steps into the right-hand path when the answer came back in the form of a collapsible rod that most hunters packed in order to probe for traps, magical or otherwise. I normally didn't bother, but I took it this time, unpacked it, and started in with my best blind guy impression.
I was pretty sure a real blind guy could do it better, but the next trap didn't make it to my clothes, so it was a bonus.
The little extra focus on making my clothes do what they were supposed to do was draining. But good practice I suppose. I still wasn't too keen on risking a leg, though; sure the uniform worked for female hunters, but they had a generator powering theirs.
A whisper, and I was jumping back; I barely managed to get the smith to take that all important step back before the spiked log breezed by. It scraped my jacket but didn't damage it.
I hadn't hit a trigger or a trip line that time; I was willing to bet my life on it.
We both remained upright. “You're too solid for your own good, even after your diet. Next time I try to save our lives, have the decency to go down.”
He gave me a shaky ghost of a grin. “Sure, next time.”
I strode forward; there was no doubt that Riddle knew where we were. Where she was, was anyone's guess, but it was safe to say she knew everything going on inside the maze. Or at least, safe to assume it.
Left, left, and right. By the time I got to the second right the pole was more the size of a pencil, and I couldn't do my awesome tapping thing anymore.
I could still do the gun thing, though.
“Sasha! What in hell are you doing?” Plague yelled, storming past the civilians behind me just as I put another shot into a likely place.
I tossed her pole at her; she caught it with ease. “Checking for traps. This thing is pretty useless now.”
Why was Plague scrubbing her face? This wasn't the time for a loss of vision! She looked to the heavens and ground out: “Checking for traps. With your guns.”
“Well, yeah. All life's problems can be solved with guns.”
She crossed her arms and stared. “What about being hungry, or cold?”
Pfft, easy stuff. “Shoot something and eat it. And if you're cold, shooting a gun makes it warm up.”
“Tired and thirsty?” She asked.
“Gunfire wakes you up like nothing else can; it gets the heart racing. And thirst? Dig a well.”
“Dig a well?” Plague questioned. “With guns?”
“My guns can dig wells just fine. I've done it before; Ivan can vouch for me there.”
Plague nodded slowly. “What about love? No, you know what, never mind.”
I pulled my two empties and reloaded. Plague strode back to her place, grumbling. How dare she question my awesome philosophy of life with her petty concerns. That's right baby, you and me against the world....
“Excuse me – are you hugging your gun?” The smith asked.
“No,” I replied, holstering it.
“Oh, that's good then.” He looked a little green, had he seen something sneaking up on me?
I whirled but there was nothing. Not a single leaf out of place. I saw Plague gave the signal to move from the corner of my eye. With a shrug I complied, trying to keep the gunfire down to a minimum by shooting out the traps I knew were there. I could only do so much after all, even if the citizens were all being babies about the noise.
Another series of turns, another right, and another curve thrown at us. The pit trap was almost laughably easy to spot, which made me wary; but there really was nothing around it. No tripwires, no pressure plates, no other weird triggers; just a pit with actual spikes at the bottom and covered up by fresh vegetation that matched the walls.
That was the real trap of course. Try to jump over that pit, the vines would come alive and drag you into it and the waiting spikes.
It wasn't too far to jump across, for someone who was fit. That left quite a few of the people behind me out, even if I was fast enough to make it, so I called a stop.
This time when Plague made her way up, she was all business. “What have we got?”
I waved a hand. “Take a look. I don't like it at all.”
She took the area in, clucking her tongue after only a second. “Yes, I see what you mean. What are our options?”
I didn't have any. After all, we lacked a stone bridge, wood would be chancy, and this wasn't the sort of thing you threw a coat over. “I was kind of hoping you had some.”
“Going back. We can't risk the civilians.”
I wasn't a fan of going back.
“No Sasha put the gun away.”
“But we can just climb past the hole and....”
“No. So far it's going well. If you damage the maze, you know what will happen.”
She turned to the smith and the quiet scarecrow behind him. “Spread the word, we are going back. Tell Sylvie she is now point and to lead us back and left once, then right again. Same order after that, left left right.”
Then she turned back to me. “Just watch our butts awhile Sasha. No need to take chances here yet.”
I nodded. She was right, after all, we had a couple days at least before things went totally south.
I fell into step behind the smith and walked headfirst into a curtain of vines, with no thorns.
“So, who are you really and why are you helping them?”
I looked down to where Riddle was, laying down right on the trail coated in her own vines and liberally coated with dirt. It was a good look for her. I took a cautious step back, away from the new wall before I responded.
“Well, if you heard enough to ask with a really thrown in there, then you already know my name is Sasha.”
The dirty witch snorted at me. “Please. I may not be the most up to date, but even I know of Sasha Norre, the maniacal marksman. And while you look like a Norre, Sasha is just a guy that looks like a girl. Not a girl, and not a witch – and you honey, from this angle? It's clear you aren't a guy.”
Well, that was a little disconcerting. I shrugged at her to deflect. “Crap happened. If you want, I can prove it.”
I drew on her; guns solve every problem.
With a laugh she faded into the ground, the vines completely covering her before I could shoot more than once; she was fast. I looked up to find the vines in front of me gone, and everyone looking back at me.
Hm, how to play this... I shrugged again. “What? I thought I saw something.”
Plague hid her face again. “Damn it, Sasha....”
I looked down again to inspect the damage. One of my least powerful shots, but the crater dug by the bullet was easily something that could blow a hole in a chest... or blow the entire torso off. It was almost a grave by itself, a hole about 2 feet deep and four to five feet around. That was very odd and pushing it. Had I somehow put too much power into the rounds or something? No, too much power and the rounds would likely explode; not something I wanted to have happen while the bullets were on me.
And that was after impacting the vines Riddle used... something was clearly up.
I rushed back into place. Nope, nothing to see here, situation normal. But it did give me an idea... a brilliant idea. Something to fall back on if I had to. A slight backtrack and we were off again; I wasn't so sure Sylvie should be point, but she was trained at least.
The slight backtrack led us to another square, somehow. The maze seemed bigger on the inside. There was a small burble of creek fed water here, and our charges rushed toward it. Dustin Ivan and Sylvie got in front and did what they could.
Another point to me; I shot my arrow in the air (so to speak) and nothing blocked it.
It stopped the stampede at least; everyone turned to me, wide-eyed. Probably expecting me to be battling a witch.
“Let the Hunt check to see if the water is safe, first.”
The citizens reluctantly backed away from the small stream. Sylvie stepped up to it to do her job.
A simple test revealed so many different natural poisons laced into the water it was a surprise the stuff wasn't smoking... or actually on fire.
We gathered the civilians up in the center and huddled. Before Plague got started I made sure she understood one thing by tapping the grass below me with a foot.
“Assume she can hear anything we say. So, what's the plan?”
“I'll let you know. Daylight is fading, and I'm not sure we want to be fumbling around in the dark. See if you can spot anything questionable here, but don't get too close to the walls.”
I went off to check for traps like a good little soldier... but I wasn't fond of the idea of staying the night here. A prolonged stay meant a watch in an area where everything was all set to kill us, which meant a sleepless night. Then it meant the civilians, who had just hiked for a couple hours and who weren't in the best of shape, waiting and hopefully sleeping, but getting worse with a source of water they could hear right next to them.
Wait long enough and even a few of their dead surrounding that stream wouldn't be enough to deter them. And that's before they start seeing crap that ain't there. And after that little consideration, there was the food issue. I wasn't sharing anymore, not until I was certain we were out, and having such a stash might be hard for some starving people to understand.
Yeah, I didn't want to stay here anymore. It might be time for my idea before I had to try and fight in the dark.
Plague would never go for it, though, and neither would the rest of the hunters. Waiting until most were trying to sleep wasn't really an option, much as I wanted to. Anything I did would have an audience. I didn't really want to offer Plague a surprise, but with Riddle listening, I'd have to. Well, maybe not entirely.
I moved close, cutting off as much sight as possible while signaling I had a plan. “I have a plan.”
It was best to cover the real conversation with a fake one. I could switch back and forth and do some real planning with both, as long as Plague caught on.
I think she did. Plague closed in too, hands flashing. “Is it like your normal plans?”
Of course it was. She knew me, after all. “Nah, this one involves fewer explosions.”
“Alright, what is it?”
“I say we blast our way out using our dynamite. That stream has to come up from somewhere.” I was our dynamite, and I was suggesting going off with a short fuse.
“You do realize the stream is poisonous, right?”
“Only if you drink it, and only if you're a wimp.” Yes Plague, of course, it was going to be big.
“I don't think the stream is the right approach.”
I nodded to Ivan. He would help me confirm where.
Ivan strode up. “What's this, another one of Sasha's plans? Can I just disapprove, on general principles?”
I gestured up with my left hand and his eyebrows lifted. “You can if you're a wimp”
I had to gesture again, with both hands, before he finally did it. We'd be talking about this later, because if this was a trust issue, I'm putting on pointy boots just to kick him with.
Ivan lunged, and threw me up; I flew.
This close to the center of the clearing, the vines would take seconds to reach me if Riddle was watching, and that gave me seconds to determine where the maze was weakest. Not the true path; that would change on a whim – but the direction with the fewest walls between us and the outside. I had a good second of air time, Ivan had outdone himself.
And there it was; to the West there were only seven sets of walls between us and the outside. I hit the ground a second before the vines closed in, a rampant vaulted ceiling sealing us all in the dark. The rest of the hunt were already popping flares and scattering as the vines closed up, just in case. I hit the ground and rolled.
I oriented and drew my Eagle just as the first civilian screamed. Something made me switch to a section of wall two feet over, and I let fly, putting as much charge into the shot as I dared.
The world lit up with searing light, the blast spewing forth from my Eagle a white-hot bar in reality that lasted several seconds. When it was done I blinked my eyes clear to look.
I could see daylight; the blast had gone through every wall. It might have even kept going. The vines around the holes made were twitching, but not growing back.
Plague took charge. “Everyone, go!” She led the way to the gap as I fired again, closing my eyes this time.
When I opened them there gap was twice as wide, and might even be safe – at least if Riddle was asleep or something.
Turns out she was. By the time the civilian train left the station, the vines hadn't even begun to grow back, which was a good thing. I would have been hard pressed to look for another shot that someone wasn't in the way of, even with everyone ducking off right in an attempt to give me one.
The civilians made it through in record time, and I moved to follow when finally Riddle made her move; the last wall moved to cut me off and I lost the race.
That was just fine with me, I didn't even need to switch hands; there was no pain at all.
I snapped the Eagle up and aimed away from the previous shots when a voice, plaintive and slightly pained, hit my ears.
“Don't go just yet.”
I stopped and turned; there, embedded in the wall, was Riddle. She looked even more worse for wear than she did swimming in dirt – and people were probably going to be calling her “righty” as a new nickname. She raised her lone arm as I switched aim, profiling to make sure everyone else was out of the line of fire. There was just enough smoke to make it hard to see how well I'd done with that.
“Peace!” She yelled or tried to. It came out barely above a hoarse whisper. Her eyes were glazing over... shock?
“What do you want, witch?”
She coughed; apparently smoke got to her too. “I accept now that you are Sasha Norre. No one else save the maniacal marksman could wield weapons like those in such a way. You cannot be an impostor; so what happened to you? How are you able to channel such power? How are your guns able to stop my vines? How were you able to see my familiar?”
Only one answer to that. “The dead don't need to know the secrets of the living.”
She sighed. “I see. So it's a race then?”
I nodded.
She was fast. I was faster; she didn't win.
I walked out as the vines that had just started to grow back into place began melting; the slime they were turning into was familiar from past scenes. However, they didn't mention the smell. That was alright I guess – no one else would have to deal with it.
It took several minutes before I could fish the hat out of the mess. I handed it to Plague with a “Mission accomplished. Also, smith guy.”
“Derrick,” he answered.
Yeah, whatever. “Fine, Derrick. The water around here is probably still poisonous. I wouldn't touch any of it that wasn't sealed if I were you.”
I pointed to several of the civilians, who were even now, sneaking through the slime field in order to try the water.
“Right. Alright you lot, you heard the little lady! You want to drink, you want to eat?!? back to town, now!”
He had a good roar; I didn't know if he was actually in charge, or just yelled really loudly, but either way should work.
“You alright Sasha? Your eye is twitching.” Ivan asked. He was not amused, because if he was amused I'd have to kill him.
My eye wasn't twitching at being called a little lady. Nope, nothing like that had happened at all.
“Sasha, with me.” Plague was twisting Riddle's hat in her hands but she met my eyes.
I followed as she led the way out, along my Eagle's blast path.
It was interesting. Three shots and my wrist and arm weren't broken. The gun hadn't even kicked back. A glance showed why; the handle was empty of a magazine. When had that happened? It was loaded this morning. I knew I had been forcing my own power into the gun, but I thought it had ammo inside it at the time when it was just my own power.
“You hit her.”
“I hit her.”
“How did you know she was there?”
Great, Plague thought I was sandbagging again. “I didn't. It was a lucky guess. She stopped me when we turned around and asked me who I was. I noticed she was hanging out inside the vines, so I thought she could be inside the walls too, to listen to us.”
For all I knew she could have been listening to us by listening through the grass.
“Alright, and how did you fire the Eagle like that?”
I shrugged. “I just did. I pushed power into the gun the same way I did the bullets yesterday; I'm just glad it worked.”
Since I was my own generator now, instead of drawing a set amount of power to load into bullets, I did it all myself and managed the process myself.
“You haven't been hearing anything?”
Oh, here we go. “No, I haven't. I've no desire to gun you down just because. Dustin is Dustin, so no promises there.”
“Alright. Let's go make sure the townsfolk don't kill themselves.”
We headed back; at least I hadn't hit anything important with the shots I fired... a swath through some fields, taking the top off a hill a mile or so away, a few power line poles, but no houses as far as I could see.
“Sure.”
When we got back, most of the citizens were starting the hike – except the ones taking the heads and bodies of the fallen down to bury.
The couch was very comfortable; I didn't want to get up. I wasn't sure why I was on the couch, rather than my own bed in my own room in my own car, but I was.
"You need to get up, Sasha. It's morning, and we need to talk."
The train wasn't moving; we were probably still at the town we just liberated. I'd had to come back to the train for some booze though; the villagers had been very happy to be freed but we worried about me having a few celebratory drinks.
Bah, their crap probably tasted bad anyway; nothing compared to this brandy I'd found.
"Shut up, Gray, you rat bastard. I'm sleeping off a drunk." I groaned. Why was the bastard bothering me?
"Alright Sasha, I guess we can talk later. But you should know Plague is on her way."
"Then shut up and let me sleep more." How hard was it to understand that sleep was golden?
Exactly three minutes and twenty-four seconds of golden time later, Plague slid into the barstool nearest my couch.
"Quite a party you missed last night, Sasha."
I answered her in the most intelligent way possible. "Mbergle."
"Why did you leave?" She asked as if she didn't know. Maybe she didn't know?
"I had my own party."
Plague looked around at the empty brandy bottles. Fewer than I could have managed before, my tolerance had reset. But that was a win, it now cost less for me to get where I wanted to be when I drank. "So I see. And with my own private stash, too. You don't normally steal other people's booze unless you're angry at them, or they are named Alicia. So tell me, how did I piss you off?"
"You didn't do anything to piss me off. I just made my own party, and found this stuff. It's good."
Plague held up a bottle with a little amber liquid left in it, swished it around a bit, and then finished it off. "It should be, it's almost twice what you pay for your stash. Just one bottle of it."
A good thing I wasn't paying for it then.
Plague seemed to read my mind. "No worries there; it's no more than you deserve for yesterday. Do you know how long Riddle has been active?"
I didn't remember exactly how long, but it was a case of years.
Plague looked over. "Exactly. And you took her out in an afternoon. Made it look easy, even."
I had made it look easy, but it wasn't. Would I have been able to beat her before? Considering I'd pushed power directly into my Eagle and shot it four times, not a chance. We'd still be in the maze and cut off from all the glorious brandy.
"If you stay sane, you could turn this war we're in."
I snorted and shook my hat at her. Did it look different this morning? "I was never sane, Plague. Perhaps that's even what this thing needs."
Plague stilled. "Sasha, what is that?"
Well, now that was irritating. "It's my hat, Plague. What did you think it was?"
"Why does it have spring antennae and a visor on it?"
I looked again. In my hand was a pointy witch hat with those novelty spring antennae worked in. A visor hung off the edges at an angle to go over my eyes, in a faint but pleasant shade of light blue. The visor would retract when not in use of course, though I wasn't sure what use it had.
"No idea."
"You're not...."
"No, the only reason I want to kill you right now is you woke me up and seem absolutely determined to talk at me."
Seriously, it was a good drunk she was ruining.
She smirked. "Good. Let me know if that changes, alright? A warning is all I ask. I'll leave you to it; try and get up and ready for duty in the next hour. Also, nice pajamas."
Se left as I looked down. Ah, just small scraps of silk; I thought it felt a little cold in here. When had I undressed? Why had I undressed? Heck, how had I undressed? I doubted I could even load a gun last night.
I found my uniform; it was dirty. I had spares in my room... which wasn't in the train's bar/dining car.
The suspiciously empty train's bar, considering it was morning. Mid-morning, unless I missed my guess. The uniform was dirty, and smelled, but then again, so did I. I put it back on and tucked my hat under my arm (since with the visor, there was no way it was fitting in the pocket designed for it, and I didn't much feel like concentrating) and strode back to my room as if I owned the place.
Because of course, I owned the place. Gray followed, looking around curiously, taking the environment in.
There were spare uniforms, of course, made fresh just yesterday. And a washbasin, where I traded the water my dirt for it's clean-ness. It probably got the worst out of that trade, but it would just get thrown out anyway
I got changed; the new uniform fit as well as the old one, and stuffed the old one into my pack. Then with a sigh, I focused. The visor melted back into the hat. And the tradeoff for that was cheap - only a doubling of my headache.
I dry swallowed some aspirin as I stuffed the offending thing into its pocket. The antennae were ignorable.
Gray looked on in disapproval. "That's very bad for you. Aspirin can have side effects."
"So can massive headaches."
Silence meant he conceded the point. Wait, if my hat had changed... I opened my small wardrobe.
The witch clothes had indeed changed, to a dress of black trimmed in blue that matched the visor. A very short dress with a dark blue bodice and criss crossed in leather belts around the hips. A set of high boots which would come to about mid-calf on me and also trimmed in blue lay under the dress. There were hints of lace involved in the whole thing.
I shut the door to the wardrobe. That had been right next to my uniforms, and I hadn't noticed. When had they changed? If Auntie Adeline had come in to deliver my uniforms and seen it changed, or worse, had seen it in the process of changing, there would be questions. Questions I had no answer for; it wasn't like any of this came with an owner's manual or how to.
Well, I'd know soon enough.
Now mostly clean and more or less presentable, it was time to get breakfast.
The dining car was packed, and all evidence of my party was now missing. There were large plates of bagels and a few full carafes of coffee on the bar. I sat down next to Plague and snagged one of each.
"So what's the news?" It wouldn't be like Plague to hide unpleasant news from me. Hell, she'd probably dance to dish out something clothing related.
"We move as soon as the engineers get us topped off. Got another rumored witch to hunt, in Scandinavia. And Dustin's team has another suspected witch to hunt in France."
Again, with France. Why was it always France? "Good; we can restock your stash along the way; best to keep busy."
I saluted Dustin with my carafe. "Good hunting."
He gaped at me. "You never wish me good anything."
"Well, part of good hunting implies good riddance." Honestly, the hunt was trusting me a lot here. Only one team, even if it was my former team and they were relying on sentiment to stay my hand a critical half a second or so (something that historically was known not to happen, since witches usually killed their family first) and Plague. I probably couldn't take Plague, and I couldn't run, but they just reduced the number of people who could be carrying the detonator by almost half, after a time where I'd just proven I could kill most of the people tasked to watch me with ease.
Ivan and Alicia were good, but they weren't fast enough to dodge the Eagle.
So yeah, a lot of trust. Dustin forced me to refocus on him: "Well, try not to murder anyone to make your bread while I'm gone."
"That's giants, you idiot."
"Good point," he admitted. "But then again, you could always go reverse giant on us, or something."
Every time I saw Dustin, he got stupider. Maybe I'd make a pie out of him later, or something. "Just get out of here. Even if you're supposed to be riding with us. Just get off and walk."
Dustin staggered back, a hand to his chest. "You wound me!"
His grin was insufferable. "Don't tempt me."
Plague put her foot down. "Yeah, Dustin, don't tempt her."
Dustin got going, his team already geared and behind him. He took a bottle on his way out of course, but it was nothing I'd miss. Slyvie actually waved on her way out. She still didn't say anything, but I think that was more due to the bagel in her mouth.
They were all freshly topped off, power wise. After all, they hadn't used anything yesterday. So they should be fine. At the very least they should be able to run away.
Plague slid up and hip bumped me. "Stop worrying about your boyfriend, Sasha. He's a big boy."
I admit when I threw up my half eaten bagel I attempted to aim for her. She dodged. Luckily, Dustin hadn't heard.
"You better have brain bleach."
I considered drawing on her, but that wasn't likely to end well, so I just reached for another bagel instead.
"Uh, Sasha...." Plague was mincing around my puke.
"What? What are you even doing, there's nothing there."
She stared me down a moment - or tried to. "Alright, that's fair, I guess." She grabbed a rag.
Damn right; after all, I didn't suggest she was getting it on with Auntie or Sinister, and if she threw up as a result of me saying something like that, I'd take my lumps.
"A masterful manipulation of the situation, Sasha." Gray complimented, and I nodded. Best to let that statement go though, Plague could be touchy about compliments made at her expense, and no one wanted to see an angry Plague.
Ivan strode up to the bar, a file in his hands. "What's that? Required reading?"
"The file on the rumored witch on the block next."
Well, that was fast. How did they even get it here? The train was faster than most messages - normally we'd find the file waiting for us, or more often, just go in blind, but to have a full file? I smelled something rotten.
On the other hand, I'd only been to Scandinavia once. I'd liked it at the time; the countryside was beautiful.
"Well, you're not wrong. You guys have been bumped up as long as I'm with you, so we only go after the best targets."
I was fine with that. "So who is our victim?"
"Marcy."
One of the four, and even better, one of the four that had targeted us specifically. Tasty tasty payback was tasty. Ivan paled but nodded like the trooper he was. Alicia would probably gripe, but screw her anyway.
"Works for me," I replied, stealing some of Ivan's vodka. Really, drinking the stuff this early in the morning; pretty shameful of him.
Of course, splitting up the teams this early made even less sense now. It wasn't as if Marcy didn't have a history of hitting our trains directly or anything, and we would make a tempting target. That was probably the point, come to think of it, to look weaker. Dustin in range to reply to a distress call. Or maybe he wasn't, and we were just testing the spies in the other camp; that happened from time to time.
Plague stood up and threw the rag away. "So, it'll be a long trip, or long enough. How about we do something?"
"Like?" Ivan asked. He shifted his weight toward the door.
Plague noticed but didn't call him on it. "Like cards! With Alicia, we have four! And it doesn't even have to be poker, so we won't bilk Sasha!"
What? "Just what are you implying, Plague?"
"That you suck at poker, Sasha. No poker face at all, anyone can clean you out." Plague fired back immediately.
I did not suck at poker! I had the best nothing expression ever! "Bullshit! I'll show you!"
"Oh yeah? Well, sit on down then. I'll go find Alicia!"
"Here we go again...." Ivan muttered, slamming down another shot.
"Screw you, Ivan."
......
The Scandinavian mountains were every bit as nice as I remember. Here we were, standing on top of mount Goldwhatever, on the trail of the rumored witch who had allegedly murdered the town of Bverdalkirk or however it's spelled. It wasn't really allegedly, as the people were very dead, and the library the hunt had maintained was very burned to the ground, but it could have just been a random nut-job with a desire to burn technical works - that an armed police force couldn't handle.
I was getting all too familiar with cold weather gear. I hated cold weather gear. It was confining and made my draw slower.
Now was the point where we got to hike around this cold hell for the next two to three days before finally getting jumped by the witch and her minions and killing them. I kind of wanted to skip all that... and maybe that hint of smoke would be the just the thing I needed. Smoke was visible from a long way out here.
"Plague, look." It was still hours away.
"Hm," Plague made a show of shading her eyes... even though she had goggles on. "Looks like a little one. Not a structure fire, and not dark enough for a vehicle fire."
"That's a campfire," Ivan stated firmly.
"Yeah, that's bull is what it is. I say we start a nice fire of our own. I brought hot dogs."
"Sasha, those hot dogs were probably made with real dog. No telling for sure."
I doubted that. That back alley butcher had an honest face!
"Where would we get fuel for it?"
Trees were kind of scarce where we were, come to think of it. Most of the wood was further down, on the other side of the mountain. Right where the fire was.
"Well Alicia always carries a lot of useless junk. We could burn that."
"Hey!"
"No, Sasha. Let's just make the hike to the fire. Stop being difficult, we both don't want to be here any longer than we have to."
"It's just the principle of the thing, They are beginning to repeat themselves, and it pisses me off."
Plague patted me on the back. "I know. check your snow shoes; we're going."
My snowshoes were fine.
We walked carefully, Alicia broke the trail, and Ivan covered our backs. Plague was behind me, watching. We were all tied together, just in case; even though this mountain was nothing compared to the ones I'd scaled earlier.
The snow was new and loose; we could slide a good distance if we tried. Well, at least to the end of the tether.
"Stop trying to slide, Sasha."
People always wanted to ruin my fun.
Alicia decided to pile on. "Yeah Sasha, quit trying to pull us around."
"Alicia, when you repeat others it just makes you sound stupid."
"Poker loser says what?"
Oh, that.... "I did not lose! ....Much."
Alicia laughed. "Oh come on, Plague and Ivan both took almost a month's salary off you! The best part was the wooden face you tried to pull every time you thought you had a good hand."
"Hey, it was enough to beat you." And beat her I had; she owed me almost a full pound.
"I was too busy laughing to focus on the game," She replied loftily. "Just face it, you're too expressive Sasha. Actually, 'face it' is a good way to describe the problem!"
She had turned back to grin at me, and so missed the sudden eruption of the snow dune in front of her, sending her skidding away. I braced, but the differences in weight made the attempt hopeless; luckily the rope snapped after I ate snow, so I didn't go skidding too far.
I hated a face full of snow more than I hated cold weather gear.
I wasn't fooled by the white fur or the roar. I spat out the snow (thankfully none of it yellow). "Poly, we have got to stop meeting like this."
The yeti actually paused and scratched her head. I couldn't resist: "That is a better look for you, however."
Poly's next roar was a little deafening; some of the snow actually shifted.
The gas tipped me off, and I found myself backflipping before the first whiff. In snow. I landed on my feet and did it again, adding a handspring this time to keep me ahead of the cloud.
"Little Sasha, is that you?"
"Hello, Malodorous."
If she and Poly were here, then the chances were they had backup this time. I started looking around for it. "Another ambush? Then who's down at the fire?"
"Oh, the fire? You don't need to worry about the fire, Sasha. I'll handle them after I deal with you."
Another gas cloud moving across the route of the first ambushed me; I sucked down a little before coming out the other side, coughing a bit. My arm was steady, however, and I had her now.
The shot went straight through the gas, burning through the center of it. Malodorous performed a nice spinning dance step before face-planting in the snow. I coughed up a lung while she groaned and sat up; she wasn't built as weakly as Riddle it seemed.
Plague was on her way, sneaking up as well as one could in a snow-capped mountain to deliver a blow of her own when the expected help materialized.
"The wyld hunter known as Plague tripped over her own shoelaces, and fell in the snow."
Zinger Zoe, another underling of Malodorous, had a special knack for manipulating any field of battle, just by talking. Reality would try to match her running dialogue. She had limits, but those were hard to work past when facing numbers like this.
I popped a shot off in her direction, and to her credit, she moved... but the yeti tanked the shot. The only good news was it knocked them both off their feet, with the yeti on top of Zinger; that should shut her up for a little while. Knives sprouting from the fallen furball showed me that Ivan had finally caught up, and Alicia was beginning to stir.
Another cloud, this one not only caustic but reducing my vision, fell into place between us. I looked around; I was hemmed in.
"I am your opponent, Sasha."
"Bullshit; you're all my opponents."
This was a pretty good ambush; anywhere I went now I was eating gas.
"Let me help," Gray said.
Was he serious? "I'm not stopping you, idiot."
"Right!" Gray exclaimed, sounding all too annoyingly happy. But before he could get going something else happened.
The impact knocked me right off my feet, and half buried me in snow, but above the noise, I heard it clearly.
"Oh, so you're going to deal with me, Marcy? Is that right?" Delivered in a sweet, saccharine voice that screamed fake.
Killer Cat had entered the building.
Catherine Ponder looked like a young girl... and proved the true-ism that young girls could be the scariest things on Earth. A young concert pianist, she had a promising career at an age when I was playing with toys. Then she got a hat and a familiar... and celebrated by taking out a country almost single-handedly.
The rumor was her power was to mimic the ability of other witches somehow, but no one had seen her in action and lived. Well, no one except my mentor, once. Even other witches feared her, above all others. She wasn't even considered one of the four.
She was considered above them.
Cat hadn't been seen since well before I'd become a hunter; the Hunt had considered her retired or dead. We had hoped for dead, but I knew that voice, just as well as I knew Olivia's.
The shadow that was malodorous stopped dead in her tracks. "C-Cat? That fire was you?"
Cat actually hummed in response. "Mmm-hmm! I was all set up, camping, and making smores, so imagine my surprise when I heard someone was planning to deal with me! You're very noisy, Marcy, with all this stomping around and yelling."
Criminy, she sounded younger than me, for all that, she was three times my age. It set my teeth on edge.
But I knew where the voice was coming from, now. Visibility did not stop a true marksman.
I drew my other pistol; Malodorous got the right hand, and Cat got my left; only the best for her.
Malodorous tumbled away, but the answer from my left was immediate: "Oh, it's little Sasha. Hello little Sasha, how are you doing today? It's been awhile, hasn't it?"
Oh, that sound was my teeth grinding. "It's been a decade. And I'm not little, you sawed off runt! Try growing up, you underfed midget!"
And just like that, all my guns were empty. I started reloading... then realized I didn't need to.
"Now, don't be like that Sasha; how am I supposed to know that you've grown? The last time I saw you, you were smaller than me, and I can't exactly see you now. Marcy is ruining everything; I know, hold on and hold still, I'll help!"
A blast of air cleared the clouds of gas... all of them, all at once. I shielded my face, but it didn't move me.
Cat stood revealed, in all her glory. No cold weather gear on her; she was in a dress that was at least half lace and shoes with heels. Malodorous was down, her butt in the air. Cat took the three steps needed and planted a heel on her, shoving her down.
"That's a good look for you, Marcy. Stay right there, okay? I'm going to talk to my good friend Sasha, here."
Then she turned back to me. I was already tracking her; she leaned out of my shot.
"Oh, it's been awhile since I've seen that. You were on pop guns the last time; little itty bitty things." She scrunched up her hands. This time the shot was taken in full by a large suit of armor, easily twenty feet tall, that slammed down in front of her.
"But I've got one question for you, Sasha; why are you holding back?"
What was she on? I unloaded on the armor, which had to be her familiar. The eyes glowed, anyway.
I think I scratched it.
"You see Sasha, I came here because I felt a witch. A witch as strong as Marcy here, or stronger A witch with strength not seen since your mother." She ground her heel into Marcy's back. Marcy did not complain.
"So imagine my surprise," Cat continued. "When I came and found you here." Her gaze focused on me; it was almost painful.
Another blast of wind failed to move me, but it tore my cold weather gear right off. My uniform was underneath, but it wasn't all that was. How did that dress get there? I'd left it in the train. A quick blast of cold, of falling away from myself happened before I snapped back; my hat was on my head. Gray was right behind me; he must have done it.
"Would you care to explain, Sasha?" Cat asked.
The field had gone silent; all of us were standing, not daring to move. Plague had at least three of her concoctions out, Ivan had a full spread of knives ready, and Alicia was a statue. Only the Yeti fur moved, and Zoe was silent.
"Sasha, let me help," Gray said again.
"I'm not stopping you, Gray," I told him.
Plague spoke quietly. "Sasha, who are you talking to?"
The saucer came down from the clouds, followed it's brothers. All five, because this was serious.
What was Plague's problem? "Gray. You know, small guy, gray skin, big dark eyes, a friend of mine who's been with us for days, learning the hunter trade?"
Cat smiled. "She can't see Gray, Sasha. She's never seen him."
The saucers took up a holding pattern around me, revolving around my head in a dizzying fashion. Their shields would protect me, and their lasers would sear my enemies. Their cloaking devices were like Gray's and would hide them until I needed them.
"Oh." Crap.
"Sasha, focus! It's okay, it's not a big deal!" I barely heard Plague's shout. All this time - how long? How had I not noticed?
"Come on Sasha, we knew it was likely to happen! Focus!"
Cat turned to Plague. "Be silent," she said with a smile, in that sugary voice of hers. Plague's teeth clicked together.
I took note that Plague's rot grenades were primed and ready.
Furthermore, she was right; this changed nothing. Gray was in my head, but he was mine. He hadn't blown apart any towns yet; WE hadn't blown apart any towns yet.
"So what happens now?" I asked the witch; Cat had to know how this would end by now.
"Now? Why, my dear Sasha, we talk a bit is all, and I send you on your way. After I chastise these naughty children, that is."
Her heel dug into Marcy's back again. Marcy cried out but didn't move. Cat stepped off her, a little closer; the saucers shifted their formation, and the armor held its hand out.
"Dull, what?"
The armor pointed - but not at the saucers; those were ignored. Cat squinted. "Oh ho! So that's why. It's been awhile since I've seen one of those."
Was she talking about the collar? I could see Plague out of the corner of my eye; one hand was in a pocket.
Cat smiled and curtseyed. "Well, I'm sorry, Sasha. I'm afraid we'll have to have our talk later. See you then, ta ta!"
A bright flash seared my eyeballs; I blinked my eyes clear in a second, but Cat was gone, along with the other witches.
At least all of us had our parts still attached.
"Sasha."
I turned to Plague and caught her gesture. "Oh, right. For the record, I didn't know." A thought sent the saucers away.
She sighed and slumped with a nod. "We need to talk."
The talk didn't begin until we made it back to the train - I led the way back. As soon as we boarded and shucked our cold weather clothes, Plague turned to me.
"So... Gray, huh?"
I'd kept him visible on the way back, of course. "In hindsight, the idea of a little alien following us in nothing but a scarf while we hiked up a mountain does seem a little ludicrous, I admit."
Alicia smirked. "You feeling okay Sasha? You almost sounded sane for a minute there."
"It'll pass, I'm sure," I told her and turned back to Plague. "Look, this... whatever it is. It has a way of getting inside you, that bypasses all your defenses. It's like... like he's a trusted friend or something. One I've known a long time."
Kind of like Ivan, I wanted to say, but that might be a slap in the face to Ivan. He was the last one alive who could fit that bill.
"But aren't we friends, Sasha? Allies? Bosom buddies?" Gray asked, his head cocked.
Something was wrong here. "Yeah, we are." I choked out. I couldn't deny the little critter.
"So... alien?" Plague turned to attention to Gray, most obviously not looking my direction.
"That's right, I'm an alien. The head of a small fleet of spaceships." Gray admitted.
Plague's eyes narrowed. "You have access to alien tech? Things like ray guns and force fields?"
"I do," Gray answered.
Plague turned back to me; I'd buried the evidence by now. "Sasha, your mind is weird."
It was; the current point of view was that a witch's familiar was a mental construct, part of their subconscious or Id or whatever given form. I wasn't quite ready to believe that was true.
"And now, Sasha, if you will, please unload and move your weapons."
For a friend, even a good friend, Gray was asking a lot. I wonder how well he'd stand up to my guns. "And why would I do a silly thing like that?"
"Because I have something better to give you, and I don't wish to cause you any grief by replacing and damaging your current weapons."
Well, that wasn't ominous. "What kind of replacements?"
"Weapons which will allow you to use your special skills to their fullest potential."
I moved my guns, wrapped them in cloth, and handed them over to Plague for good measure. "I'll want those back."
"Of course Sasha." Plague replied, forcing a light tone.
Beams of light occupied my holsters; I took a step back as Plague almost decapitated me. "Warning first, Gray. We're all twitchy people here."
"My apologies Sasha."
Plague was looking at my hips. "Yeah, sorry Sasha; instinct and all."
I waved her off, drawing what had appeared in my empty holster. "Think nothing of it, I'd have done the same." Even if I wouldn't have missed.
The item I'd drawn resembled a gun but wasn't one. It was shaped like one and had a trigger, but there was no cylinder or magazine, no place for bullets to go. The grips were slick and shiny, and the whole deal was silver and blue - the same sort of blue that was on my special clothes this morning. Well, and yesterday morning come to think of it.
"Why are there no bullets?"
"It is a laser pistol, and as such, it needs no bullets or ammunition of any kind. As for the power source, you are that source."
"So I simply push power into it like I have been?"
"As you have been doing all your life, yes."
Well, that was a loaded statement. I guess I had been pushing power into guns my entire life, though did it count if I was using a generator most of the time? Apparently, it did to Gray.
"What about those saucer things?" I asked, flipping the thing in my hand. It was differently balanced, but fit perfectly into my hand and went anywhere I wanted it to go. If I had a complaint it was that the grip was as slick as it looked, but even that seemed to help it as I slung it around, getting a feel for it.
"Those are our ships. They can be both offensive and defensive, being armed with a stronger version of the weapons I gave you and force fields. I deployed them to protect you earlier. They also have cloaking devices, of course, to remain hidden." Gray shot Plague a look as if to say 'see, I'm telling you everything.'
I'd seen those things - they were barely big enough for Gray to fit in. There was no way they were actual ships, let alone stronger. They had looked like toys.
"And how strong are these, exactly?" I asked.
Plague took a step back. "Sasha, no. This is not the place for that...."
I couldn't hear her over the sound of the gun firing. The completely underwhelming sound of the gun firing, as it turned out; the only thing I heard was a 'woosh' and some sort of whine backing that.
The sight, on the other hand was a bit more impressive; a bright blue light about as large as I was came from the weapon and the craggy finger at the top of the mountain I'd been aiming for through the train window was more of a stump. We could probably camp there if we wanted to. The grip warmed and caused my hand to tingle.
"Too much power, Sasha," Gray told me gravely.
Well, it wasn't at the Eagle's level, and as far as I was concerned that meant I hadn't used enough.
"Damn it, Sasha! Are you insane!?!" Plague asked with a straight face.
I just looked at her and holstered my new toy.
"Okay, you're right, stupid question. Just, don't do it again, alright? And leave the thing on your back slung."
There was more? On my back? I hadn't felt it there, but then again I guess it made sense; that's where the Eagle rested.
The thing on my back was a small tube, a bit over half a meter long and with a radius of around ten centimeters. It was slightly less in the center, and there were marks there... some kind of language or something... 'twist here'?
"Sasha, stop."
I put it back with a sigh. Rather than my holster back there, there were hooks on my belt to hold the thing.
Fine, I couldn't play, but I could still ask; I turned to Gray - did he look nervous? "Gray, what is this?"
"A pulse energy weapon. It's really quite ingenious, the weapon fires temporary shells of hard light wrapped around a core of superheated plasma and...."
"Gray. The non-egghead version." I swear, why did everyone around me want to talk about crap that didn't matter? if it worked, it worked.
"It fires a type of explosive. It is very damaging, and shouldn't be fired at anything you want to keep, or near anyone you want to keep." Gray deadpanned.
"Got it." I know he was being a smartass, but I liked the abridged version.
"Sasha."
"Yes, Alicia?"
"Please don't shoot me with that."
I snorted. "You're absolutely safe; I wouldn't waste something like this on you." The pistols or ray guns or whatever they were would do by themselves.
I couldn't be sure about Dustin though. It wasn't like I wanted to keep him or anything, and he kept following me around like a puppy no one wanted; it was sad.
We lounged back and relaxed, or I did at least. Plague still seemed uptight, watching me. I didn't really blame her. Ivan was more his usual self, knocking back a casual amount of vodka and cleaning his weapons. Alicia was glancing at me and scribbling something in a notebook, and Gray was taking up a stool, kicking his feet.
"Sasha, where is Gray now?" Plague asked.
"Next to you on the stool, staring at some beer. You can't see him?"
Gray shook his head in sync with Plague as she replied. "No, he vanished again. I'm guessing he can't stay visible that much?"
I shrugged. I had the feeling it was more that he didn't want to and if he wasn't bothering nobody I was willing to let him. At least until I got those answers he promised me.
"Right. Well, don't let him drink any beer; the last thing we need is both of you out of it."
I turned to Gray. "You heard her. None of the good stuff for you."
Gray nodded again and intoned: "You're going to negatively affect your health if you keep drinking, Sasha."
I made a point of picking up my own drink, a decent German beer from the village we'd mostly saved from Riddle, and took a long swig before replying. "Thank you for your concern, Gray."
Plague looked amused. "What? We can't hear him anymore either."
"He's trying to tell me how to live my life is all. He will learn." Everyone learned eventually.
Plague decided to get in on the action. "Yeah Gray, where ever you are, Sasha absolutely hates to be told what to do. I mean, she won't even wear the clothes I want her to wear! They would look so good on her, too. Especially the suit."
She turned to give me another once over. "Well, maybe not the suit anymore; at least not without some alteration."
I remembered that suit, and it was no great loss that I couldn't fit in the thing anymore. "I swear. I said he was right next to you, remember?"
Plague shrugged it off. I felt like a kid with an imaginary friend or something. Not that girls were allowed that little past time; if they admitted to having one, they were watched.
"So," Ivan broke in. "Do we have any new missions waiting for us, or leads?"
"Nope," was Plague's response. "Back to Central for us. Which is for the best, since any sighting of killer Cat has to be reported.
There hadn't been a sighting of killer Cat in years. What had caused her to move now? Was it really me somehow? Was I really such hot stuff somehow?
I mean sure, my guns could now smash the passive defenses of witches with no problems, and knock the tops off mountains, but that wasn't too much more than I'd been packing before, and Olivia could flatten a city inside an hour if she tried. for that matter, so could Ana. Was that it? Was it a family affair?
It was all well and good that Gray could hide; I didn't want him to get eaten. But most familiars could hide somehow, at least from other people if not other witches. Was the cloaking device Gray boasted about good enough to hide him from killer Cat?
No, something about that didn't follow. Something I should know, but didn't, and that was... well it made me boil inside.
Whatever. I'd find out when I found out. And Cat would find out how strong I was the next time we meant.
I really didn't want to go back to Central.
I settled back to nap. I could go to my room, but why drag Alicia or Plague from the bar to watch me?
......
I knew something was different the moment I stepped off the train. I was wearing my uniform, and my hat wasn't in view, but the moment I stepped off the train onto the station, it was as if everyone was looking at me - even though no one was looking at me.
No, not a single person was singling me out, just as hard as they could. Though there was the occasional staring yokel, some of whom I knew a little bit; after just enough of a look to tip me off the guy would always shuffle off muttering stuff I couldn't catch in the crowd. I was no genius, but I had a pretty good guess what it was.
One of them was the pastry guy, Martin or Mark or Marvin... something like that. Pastry guy ran a small stall where he made the pastries somehow (I thought you needed an actual oven for that, but I was wrong in this case) and anytime I saw him open I bought one, cause he was good at it and didn't spit in them or anything.
He was walking the street without his cart, saw us leave the station, and gave me the once over. Then like the rest, he shuffled off muttering. This time Alicia was close enough to hear it - and she snickered.
"What?"
"Oh, nothing." That innocent look wouldn't fool anyone.
"What."
She turned and clapped one of her paws on my back. "It was nothing, Sasha. He just said he was glad you were no longer pretending, was all. That and the skirt suited you."
Her paw snagged my collar, preventing me from going after that jerk. "No Sasha, no hurting the normies, remember?"
"Fine." See if that guy got any more money from me. Though, should I punish my stomach that way? Some of his pastries were really good.
Central was right where we left it. I walked in behind Plague, who strode in arrogant enough for both of us. Sarah was on the desk as usual. She looked up at our approach and smiled - at me?
"Welcome back, Plague, Ivan, Alicia, and Sasha. How did things go?"
She actually said my name. And her smile seemed genuine. Gray hopped up on the desk and gave her a once over.
It hurt, but I was tough. I could take it.
Plague answered for us while I was a little distracted; Gray seemed intent in looking down Sarah's top. "It went well, we have one confirmed kill and the hat of one Riddle, may she rest in peace in Hell forever. Went sightseeing for a bit to celebrate and then came back to report the good news."
So that's how she wanted to play it, huh? Killer Cat being back was a big deal and should be reported as soon as possible, so hunters and scouts alike were at least warned about her. It would be better if we had a current photograph, but I hadn't been about to try that. Maybe next time. I don't know, it didn't sit well with me.
"Hey, Sarah, do you have an incident report handy?"
An incident report was a brilliant piece of paperwork you used when describing something important that happened to you that you felt the hunt needed to know, but it didn't result in the death of a witch. Nowadays it was used almost primarily in an encounter with a witch that didn't die. They were not to be confused with expense reports, where you detailed any and all collateral damage you may or may not have been responsible for in the hunt for said witch. I'd made that mistake before.
Plague caught on right off, of course. "Sasha, are you...."
Sarah actually interrupted her with a smile and forced cheer aimed in Plague's direction. "Here you go, Sasha!"
She slid the form and a pen over. Huh, was that what it sounded like from the other side of things? Plague glared silently.
And then Sarah had to ruin it. "I must say, Sasha, the skirt really suits you; you have some nice legs."
"So I'm told." I mean really, they were just legs. They were for walking and jumping, and they worked.
I filled out the report on the spot, and Sarah's eyes widened as she read it upside down while I wrote it. Maybe she was a witch herself? Such a skill seemed born from pure evil.
"Your handwriting seems to improved, Sasha." Ouch, she really knew where to hit me. I looked and couldn't really see a difference.
Maybe she was trying to distract the rest of my team from the very obvious fact that I was bucking an unspoken order.
Ivan stepped up and held his hand out. "I might as well file my own report while we're here."
Alicia stepped up and wordlessly held her hand out. Sarah smiled again and handed the papers over. Ivan and Alicia had their own pens of course because screw them. They also finished about the same time I did, because words were hard. At least there wasn't a line forming behind us this time.
"Thanks you three, I'll be sure to file these right away and type up the warning!" Sarah said, taking all our reports.
"Alright, fine. Let's just go report to the Gloom so he hears it from us first," Plague turned to Sarah. "Is he in?"
Sarah nodded. "He sure is. Would you like me to ring him up and tell him you're on the way, or would you all like to bathe and prepare first?"
She was being pretty insulting without trying to be... or was she trying to be?
"No, we better just go in. Gloom hates to be kept waiting."
That was true enough. Gloom was actually pretty easygoing most of the time, not that I'd ever admit that to anyone (least of all him) but there was one thing he loathed, and that was waiting to hear something important.
I let Plague lead the way.
There were a few people that gave us the once over on the way up, and a few hunters who fingered weapons as I passed, but for the most part I was ignored, which seemed more than a little unusual; I was a witch heading into the upper reaches of Central after all.
Plague actually knocked on the door; I didn't think she had it in her.
The muffled "Enter." came as expected.
Plague strode right in and didn't waste time. "Gloom, we have a problem."
Gloom looked up from a stack of papers that could choke a dog, his brow furrowed, and put his boots back on the floor. He looked tired, at least for him. "What is it?"
"Killer Cat."
Those two words made Gloom stiffen; his back cracked, so fast did he straighten up.
"Where?"
"She sought us out, during the second hunt you sent us on. Showed up right in front of Malodorous, just as we were going to fight."
Gloom began to pace. "Yet you're all alive - so what did she want? Why now?"
Killer Cat was one of the few to get away from Gloom; mainly because she didn't stick around for Gloom to fight. At least, that was the rumor; After having met her in person and tasted her power, I'd have given her better odds than most. No, my gut told me she wasn't afraid of any hunter alive.
"She wanted to meet the new witch. It had been some time since she met someone with that level of power, she said. She even mentioned Olivia and Ana."
And all eyes in the room were back to me. I was getting used to the attention, kind of.
The Gloom tried for humor. "Well, I'm surprised you didn't attack her, Sasha."
"I was working up to it," I admitted, watching Gray picking the lock on Gloom's corner file cabinet.
Gloom got up and crossed the room only to crouch in front of me. "Yes, I believe you were, weren't you?"
"There is more," Plague said. "Show him, Sasha."
With a sigh, I told Gray to stop using his cloaking device. He appeared, still reading the file he appropriated from the lowest drawer of the newly opened file cabinet. "I have a familiar. Gloom, meet Gray. Gray, meet Gloom. My boss."
Gray waved without even looking up. "Pleased to meet you, sir. These files make for fascinating reading."
Gloom flinched. "Pleased to meet you, Gray. Please put those files back where you found them before I'm forced to murder you."
Gray looked up, blinking his big eyes, and slid the file back in the drawer. Hopefully in the right spot; Gloom could be a stickler for such things.
"I kind of suspected as much when I saw the new hardware." Gloom admitted with a glance at my new toys.
"I've still got the old ones." Of course, I did; I hadn't forgotten which side I was on.
"How long?" Gloom asked.
"I'm not sure," I admitted. "I don't think he was around when I left, but it's hard to say when he showed up."
"After Riddle." Plague said with authority. I wasn't so sure myself.
Gloom nodded.
"Also, my team here thought it best they file the report about Cat being back before coming up here."
Gloom cursed, paused, then cursed again. "Why must you always do the right thing at the worst possible time?"
A good question. "Talent, I guess?"
Gloom sighed. "And of course Sarah was being Sarah?"
Plague nodded.
"Fine. I'll call her and have Ivan's report sent up."
What was wrong with my report?
"Alright, go clean yourselves up, you're tracking dirt on my floor."
How would he ever survive? I took the clear dismissal for what it was.
"And Sasha...."
Darn, almost out! Here it comes.
"Hide Gray again, please. No need to needlessly antagonize people."
Oh. Was that it? "Sure. You heard the man, Gray."
Gray obligingly rippled a little, I think more for my benefit than anything else. I made sure he followed me out the door too; the last thing I needed was for Gloom to notice his files floating in midair or worse.
I had something just as important to deal with though. I turned to Ivan. "Why would Gloom want your report over mine?"
Pinned down by the combined weight of both my and Gray's stares, Ivan fidgeted.
"Well, it's just that I'm known to be a little more... thorough."
"What he means to say is that 'I arrived at Calais, and kicked the witch's ass' isn't a real report," Alicia answered.
"I wasn't asking you, sasquatch."
"Sasquatch? I'll show you sasquatch, you prissy little princess!"
Plague separated us. "Seriously, stop fighting outside the Gloom's door. It's almost a given he can hear you, with how loud you're being."
Plague raised a good point. No dummy, that was Plague.
"Right, I'm out. Going to my quarters."
"Take a shower, Sasha. I'll be by later to make sure!"
Was that a threat? Who was I kidding, it was Plague. Of course, it was a threat.
"Did you know your boss the Gloom knew your mother, Sasha?"
"Not now, Gray." There would be a time to ask how he knew that, not that I was in the dark about it.
No one looked at me twice as I made my way around the upper deck through the living quarters.
And then I was safe behind my door. Gray had been following me, but he was in front of me now, already beginning to go through my stuff with the same curiosity and lack of respect he'd shown in Gloom's office. Starting with my underwear drawer; Gray was a little weird.
I started the shower; it wasn't like Gray would do anything, he was an alien. Besides, he was barely over a foot tall; I could punt him if he tried.
Gray turned around, a pair of the panties Plague had supplied me with in each hand, his face serious.
"Sasha, we need to talk."
I was really beginning to hate the phrase 'we need to talk'.
"Go ahead, Gray."
"You should sit down, first. While I check for listening devices."
I sat down on the bed. "We don't use listening devices unless you mean a cup held to the wall. Too high tech and low priority to waste resources on."
He continued searching anyway. "I know they're your friends but I'll feel better if I check."
I rolled my eyes but waited. As expected, Gray didn't find anything. Finally, he turned to face me.
"Alright, there is no easy way to say this... but humanity is under attack."
Wow, how revealing. "You think?!?"
"No, Sasha. I mean under attack by an outside enemy. My people specifically; aliens."
"You're the only alien I've seen." Really, he would have to try harder.
"Quit being obtuse, Sasha. The familiars are aliens, all of them. We come from another dimension. A long time ago by your standards, humanity was far more technologically advanced than now."
"Obtuse?" What did that mean?
"Please, let me finish. Then you can ask whatever you want. So, technologically advanced humans - however, you were all still the same primitive and violent people you are now. So when your scientists opened a dimensional gateway into our realm, we watched.
My leaders came to the conclusion that you were dangerous as a people; and decided to end the threat. But we couldn't just visit to share our concerns or even make war upon you. The difference in dimensions and environments were prohibitive. However, we could send... a sort of shadow of ourselves across the gate, and a small measure of the power our own dimension has in abundance.
The plan was not to destroy your people, as mine are merciful, but to destroy your planet's infrastructure. We would anchor a shadow of ourselves to people who were... compatible, and carry out our war in that manner."
It made a twisted kind of sense. "So the first witch was born."
Gray nodded. "And humanity has been at war with itself since."
But that made no sense. Family bonds could not be torn apart so easily. "There has to be more to it."
Gray nodded again. "There is. Those deemed witches do as they do because of the alternative. We s a people may not be capable of waging war directly upon your people Sasha, but it is an easy matter to send a device through - a device capable of destroying your planet in its entirety. If the witches do not succeed in their mission to retard your technological abilities, my people have threatened to end all of humanity."
"You said the witches; you didn't include me in that."
Gray smiled. "As smart as ever, Sasha. No, I'm not proud of my people and what they have done. I wish to stop this senseless war and undo what my people have done. For that, I need your help. You and I were compatible; I have been searching for a friend like you for a long time."
Hang on, if the familiars were all one people, why were they so different? "Then why do you all look and act so different?"
"Because we aren't actually here, Sasha. I am a shadow of a self, an echo of a soul, sent here to guide what you call a witch. I am seen through a specific prism, that of the point of view, experiences, innermost thoughts and subconscious of my witch, which is to say you."
I didn't really get it. "So you're saying you're an alien because of me?"
"No, I'm an alien because I am. How I look, and to an extent how I act, are a result of how your mind perceives our link. As is the manifestation of your power. The same is true for all witches."
"So the fact that I use guns is because I like guns?"
Gray nodded.
"So Olivia likes dragons?"
"Likes or fears them; Some strong emotion."
There was no doubt that Ana loved her bear. And fire.
"But wait, what about the witch hat?" The witch hat just formed when the witch was made and contained the witch's soul.
"The physical manifestation of our link, formed by the process we use to maintain our meld with our partner. Yes, your kind is correct; it does house the soul of the witch. Such a practice is another repugnant offense perpetuated against your kind by mine."
Right, so no forgetting where I left the cursed thing. "And the clothes? The conjured stuff?"
"Formed from the subconscious desires of the witch in question."
Uh...ha ha ha, no. "Gray do me a favor?"
"Sure Sasha, what is it?"
"Don't ever say that again. To me or anyone else."
"Sure, if that is what you desire. Though I admit to some confusion as to why."
Confused was good. "Being confused is fine."
Gray widened his eyes. "You aren't going to explain, Sasha?"
I wasn't buying it. "Not this time."
"All right. I suppose I'll understand why in time."
Next question time: "So how do you plan to stop the others? What's your plan for stopping the war?"
Maybe if I tried, I could save lives.
Gray shot those hopes down. "I don't have one. Our best bet is to do what you're best at - killing witches to slow down their spread. I suspect the witches themselves have become corrupted, and their mission lost; humanity has lost too much of what they once possessed, and those you term witches were only meant to guide, not turn violent."
"But won't that get your bomb dropped on us?"
"It is possible," Gray admitted. "but I will know if my people try, and doing something is vastly superior to the slow death your people are experiencing now. But should my people try, there are steps I can take on my end to prevent such."
"Like?"
Gray turned back to my drawers, folding my clothes and putting them back.
"Like talking, Sasha. Boring stuff."
I wasn't a fan, and Gray knew it. "Chances that it'll work?"
"Well, I'm already using talk, and I'm making progress."
'Making progress' was usually bullshit speak for 'nothing will change.'
"In either case, that is my concern, partner. If you do nothing, my best estimate is human civilization will collapse inside five years. We can't just ignore the more immediate problem."
Yeah, I'd never been good at ignoring things. Not even the most important question raised before bedtime.
"Gray, what's obtuse?"
Gray turned, almost throwing a dress that I would never wear. "You mean you were serious?!? Oh, Sasha...."
Well if he was going to be a jerk about it... "Fine, never mind. I'm going to bed. Don't wander, or some gung-ho hunter will put a bullet in you."
Of course, it was likely to be me, if he survived the gauntlet of my comrades, but he didn't need to know that.
Gray picked up one of my few books. "I can amuse myself here. Good night, Sasha."
"Good night, Gray."
After a moment of settling in, something occurred to me. "Gray, does the hunt know? About any of this? Aliens and invasions and the like?"
"I'm not certain, but it isn't likely. There are some events in your species' recent history which suggests the truth, but the responses of your organization suggest to me that they still believe the witches are the real threat, and have missed the true significance of those events. It is certain the rank and file do not know."
....Right. "Okay. Good night Gray."
......
"Alright, how bad is it?" Gloom asked.
"Well, pretty bad, if you consider Killer Cat," Plague answered. "But Sasha remains committed. The familiar took awhile to show itself, but it's here now, and Sasha hasn't wavered."
"Maybe not, but we have no idea what lies the thing might be telling it. Her mother lasted weeks before succumbing, after all."
"You're going to have to trust her again sometime." Plague said.
"Maybe," Gloom repeated. "But I still want you there monitoring things, for a while yet. Just a few missions, until we can learn more."
"Of course. What I can tell you is that Cat is interested."
Gloom snorted. "I gathered that already; she's actually appeared after all."
"No, I mean think about it. This is the first time she's moved in recent years, that we can confirm, because she left witnesses. Not only did she not kill the witch she was interested in, but she left us alive; she didn't come out of hiding to fight. Or at least not fight us, not directly."
Gloom stroked his jaw, wincing at the stubble he found there. "An interesting theory. One I'm not willing to test at the moment. If she shows again, drop everything and run, and call me. She might be able to handle you or me, but she can't handle us both."
Plague poured herself a drink. "You don't even have to tell me. I'll run if she lets me. But I wouldn't be too sure about her combat strength if I were you. I felt her strength."
"She was stronger before. God only knows how she got crippled in the first place."
"I don't know - maybe I'll ask if the opportunity presents itself." Plague's smile was brittle, and the joke fell flat.
Gloom stood up and swiped Plague's drink. "Well, sounds like I need to go do some damage control. Calm the masses, stop any potential hysteria."
Plague looked at her empty hand sourly. "Good luck with that, boss-man."
"Oh no Plague, you're coming too," Gloom replied with a humorless smile of his own. "I need all the eyewitness details, and the rest of your team has already fled after dropping this bomb on my lap."
Plague sighed and gave him the finger.
......
I woke up to some disturbance downstairs. Gray was sleeping, having burrowed himself into my arms.
He was cute, sleeping. There, I said it, and nothing bad happened.
I untangled myself from him, but he came awake the moment I stopped touching him.
"Good morning Sasha."
"Good morning Gray." It wasn't actually morning yet, I hadn't slept that long. The noise downstairs sounded vaguely like a fight, but who could be attacking us here?
"Sasha, get dressed before you go downstairs please."
Oh, right. Wait, hadn't I been dressed when I went to bed? I was in pajamas now... pajamas with little green spaceships on them. My hat had been in my hand of course and was now missing though it had to be on my person somewhere.
A touch on my head confirmed my stupid hat was there - as a hair band, complete with some sort of cloth ear. I pulled that out pretty quickly and turned to Gray.
"Your doing, I suppose?"
How Gray had managed it without waking me was a matter of some worry. If it had been anyone else except Ivan, I would be freaking out right now. Or having a short talk at one end of a long barrel; freaking out was something the Dustin's of the world did.
"Your clothing was soiled and fragrant; how you can sleep in that state is beyond my understanding," Gray answered, and despite having no nose as I understood the term, I could actually feel him turning his up at the smell.
Right. I chose to take him seriously. "Long practice eating garbage, sleeping in low end dives or ditches by the side of the road, and eating things that would make a rat puke. So why the pajamas?"
"I didn't want you getting cold, Sasha."
That.. actually made some sense. "Fine."
I went to the dresser and grabbed some pants and a shirt. I turned around and Gray had another pair of pants and a shirt; the only difference were the colors. What was wrong with green?
"Come on Sasha; Just try mine."
"Fine." I grabbed the clothes and went into the bathroom.
Gray had snuck underwear into a shirt - whatever, I put those on too. The clothes fit and were comfortable, and they matched the hairband. Or the hairband matched the clothes; it had been a different color itself a few minutes ago.
Whatever, don't question it, Sasha.
My new guns went around my hips, and I took the time to put my old guns in pride of place. I should probably take them as backups, but I just couldn't work out where to strap them on where they wouldn't get in the way.
There was no one at my door, which actually surprised me a bit. I would have suspected a watcher.
The halls were empty; even more empty than usual. For all that the sound increased, Gray and I didn't see anyone until we hit the stairs. And then we saw everyone.
There was an honest to goodness party going on downstairs in the lobby. Tables of food were set up, tables of booze were set up across from the food, and at least a few hundred people, hunter and civilian alike, were chatting, mingling, and dancing to music I could barely make out over the roar of the crowd. There were actual sounds of merriment that didn't sound forced.
Well, not all of it anyway.
As soon as I was noticed, the sound dimmed and the music stuttered to a halt.
Gray pushed me from behind, and it was go forward or fall. "Go ahead, Sasha."
The Gloom met me at the bottom of the stairs; I hadn't seen him from the top or seen him move. "Welcome to the party, Sasha."
Close up the party looked a little slapdash, a little thrown together at the last minute, with the brand new decorations hanging on a prayer and the food looking more like someone ran out and bought as much as possible rather than ordering it.
"What's the occasion?"
"Beating Riddle. I wanted to have something like this before, but circumstances conspired against us."
Was beating Riddle such a big deal? She was considered one of the great powers, sure, but a B-lister among them. She had managed to pull her shit in several cities and get away, but she'd never depopulated entire regions.
Huh, kind of said a lot about me there, that I had the bar set so high for major threats.
"Well, guess we can party now. No new fires to put out?"
The Gloom shook his head. "Not a single one; nothing that can't wait a day. Go ahead and relax; grab a drink, eat something tasty. Try not to shoot anything."
I smelled a rat, but he was the boss. "You're the boss. As usual, no promises, but I'll try to contain myself."
"Good," the Gloom's hand clapped down on my shoulder to stop me cold. "One last thing - is Gray here?"
"Yeah, he is."
The Gloom let up. "Good. He's invited too, but keep him invisible and keep him out of trouble."
I risked a glance to Gray; he was saluting both the Gloom and me with all seriousness.
"Will do." The Gloom didn't have to tell me that Gray would make people... twitchy. Things were bad enough as it was, though looking around there were fewer daggers in the stares I was getting.
Must be my imagination.
Oh well, priorities; I started off to the booze... and my train was promptly derailed by Ivan.
"Not on an empty stomach Sasha," He said and steered me away and toward the food. "You'll be able to drink more."
That was a good point, and I conceded it silently.
The buzz of conversation didn't stop, but it did grow in our wake. I was beginning to catch snatches of it here and there, and the tone at least wasn't 'burn the witch'. I relaxed a bit, now at least a little more sure I wouldn't turn a corner and see a stake with a bonfire set under it.
One of the tables was filled with my favorites; all of them, all at once. The table next to it was filled with food inspired from Ivan's home, and past that was some hoity-toity French food; the expensive stuff that Alicia liked.
I grabbed one of the little cheese and cracker sandwiches and took a bite; that was enough to guess what store it was from... Miles's, which was across town on eighth.
Sarah walked up and snagged a little bacon wrapped bundle; I knew of those from Bacon Barn, which was only four streets away. "Good evening, Sasha."
Hey, wait. Had she just talked to me? Just walked right up and talked to me, without me talking first or cornering her? She was smiling at me even, and it looked different.
"Hi, Sarah. Are you responsible for getting all this together?"
"Hah, no. There was too much for me to organize on my own. I did do some of it, however." Her glance upward at the decorations told me which part she had done.
She was soon joined by someone I didn't recognize; a cute brunette girl a few years younger than Sarah in a matching uniform. "Hello, Sarah! Hello, Miss Sasha, I'm Vivian, and I'm new at the office. Sarah is teaching me the ropes."
Oh, had the new recruits graduated already? How time flies. "Just Sasha, Vivian. Hello and good evening."
Vivian snagged one of my cheese and cracker sandwiches and bit into it daintily. "Oh, this is good. Cheddar from Switzerland?"
Hell if I know. I shrugged, just as another guy so new he squeaked walked up. He was in a gray uniform that still had the creases in it. "Hello Vivian, Sarah. And hello Sasha - I'm a big fan, I've wanted to meet you for some time."
"And you are?"
"Pearson, newly graduated hunter." He held out a clammy hand to shake.
I didn't want to shake; if this guy lasted a week, I'd be surprised."Pleased to meet you."
Everyone in range stopped and looked at me.
"What?"
Ivan made a show of looking around. "I don't see any of the horseman, false alarm."
"What?"
"You were polite. Not only that, but you were polite to a fellow hunter. We thought the world was ending."
"Oh, ha. Ha." I was surrounded by assholes.
Pearson looked lost. "Take a good look, this is what real hunters are like in the field."
He took a good look... then took another one. At me. Now I was fine with him doublechecking Sarah, because who wouldn't? But his eyes crawling up my form were weird.
It was almost worth a sigh when he turned to study Vivian. Almost.
The sigh caught in my throat when we started getting crowded. A bunch of other hunters new and old were closing, walling us in. If a hand strayed near a weapon here things would go very badly for someone.
But instead, it was: "About time you woke up! For a guest of honor, you sure are lazy."
"Yeah, screw you, Steve." I think I needed to wake up more; my amazing wit was less amazing.
Another: "Hey, anyone who can finally kill Riddle can sleep as long as she wants; that witch killed Armand a few months ago. I wanted the payback myself, but never could catch up to her - well done Sasha, at least one of us got her."
"You're welcome Gunther, but to be fair I wasn't thinking about any of that." Mostly I'd just been thinking about how I'd failed to catch up to her myself, and how annoying she was.
Gunther shrugged that off. "That's fair."
As if that opened the can of worms, everyone gathered pushed a little closer and started talking all at once, flashing smiles and clapping me with ready hands. A flash or two of a time a few years ago tensed me up, but I relaxed. There had been worse times than those. from those times I knew what was coming next.
"Story, story, story." And there it was, the dreaded chant.
"Get Plague to tell it," I answered; she was much better at telling these kinds of things than I was.
They just kept chanting.
"Fine, fine. But I'm not going to tell it sober. Get out of my way and we can reconvene at the beer."
As the newer hunters started moving, Plague foiled my perfect getaway. "Don't do that; Sasha will run. Steve, you're beer slave. Bring it here, and we'll wait."
Steve walked off muttering, but the other hunters closed ranks.
I turned to Plague. "I'm going to owe you for this one."
She grinned back. "I owed you for earlier. start talking."
With no option other than talk or shoot them all (something I considered until Gray gave me the look) I talked.
The morning after, just like all morning afters in the history of the world. I didn't want to get up until my head actually split open and ended the pain. Of course there was the matter of a small alien, currently bouncing on me.
"Your stomach is very tight, Sasha. This is unexpected; it doesn't look muscular at all."
"Gray, I'm going to hold you down and throw up on you."
He stopped, mercifully. "Oh? Are you ill, Sasha?"
"Yes Gray, I'm ill. What time is it?"
"Currently seven forty-six, according to the alarm clock you recently slept through."
Was that what this was about? Was he bouncing on me because of a stupid alarm? I hadn't been able to escape the party last night until three, when most of the people forming the ring around me had passed out, leaving an opening. By then of course, I don't think the remaining upright people were too interested in me anymore; they hadn't given chase like they normally would have.
There was no hair of the dog that bit me in my room; or any other part of the dog, for that matter.
"Gray, I have a very important mission for you."
"Yes Sasha?"
"I want you to go outside this room, find the lobby, find a bottle of booze, preferably beer. Then I want you to pick it up and bring it back to me."
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Sasha. Ethanol is poisonous to the human body, and you've had far too much of it of late. You'll end up losing those stomach muscles, among other things."
Did my imagination figment or whatever it was just sass me?!?
"Gray, you bounced on me; you owe me. Now go get me some booze."
"I refuse."
"Gray, I'm going to shoot you."
"If you desire alcohol, you should retrieve it yourself."
But I didn't want to move! Where were my guns? They were across the room, on the table near the door; I would have to get up in order to get them. I tried to grab the little bastard, but he skipped out of the way and off the bed out of sight.
A pox on everyone. A pox on all houses! Poxes for all!
I rolled over and held onto the bedpost, using it to lever myself up. My legs didn't really want to work, so I leaned there a moment, searching for my prey. My vanished prey; oh well if he was under the bed he was screwed; not even I knew all of what lurked down there.
Now steady, I headed toward my guns. If Gray thought I wouldn't blow up my bed, he was sorely mistaken.
"Underwear, Sasha."
I looked down; the demented little gremlin was below me, his outstretched hands full of cloth. Come to think of it, it was a little breezy this morning. I reached for the little jerk but only netted the panties. And of course I overbalanced and fell over.
Oh well, might as well put them on.
And Gray had vanished again. where had he gone? I checked under the bed (might as well, I was already on the floor) but came up empty. I heard my bathroom door close, and of course my guns were missing from the table. Why had they even been over there to begin with? I usually slept with my hardware, and even here the nightstand that was the usual home for my weapons was in reach of the bed.
"Gray, why are you hiding from me? Aren't you my familiar?"
"I'm not hiding from you Sasha, I am here." Gray's answer came from the bathroom of course.
I straightened up and strode over, only to find more cloth on the doorknob. A bra; it smelled clean. With a shrug, I put it on; I'd need to eventually anyway.
Gray wasn't immediately visible when I opened the door; I spent a second wondering where he could have gone before I realized the shower curtain was pulled and the shower had just turned on.
That was not something I wanted to see, at all.
"What the hell, Gray?"
He started humming, and that decided things. I pulled the curtain back with a whisk to reveal Gray, still in his pilot suit, a shower cap around his nonexistent hair, sudsing up. He turned to me and asked pointedly, "Do you mind?" Before turning away. My guns were hooked around the showerhead.
I was not getting into the shower with a figment of.. whatever like that, clothes or not, and with the way the showerhead was set, I'd have to get in to retrieve my weapons, which would then get wet and be in need of cleaning. Turning the water off would run the same risk; my guns were safer where they were for now.
"Some aspirin and water are on the counter next to your uniform; I suggest you brush your teeth as well."
So that was his game, was it? Well I'd show him, and inflict my horrid breath and scuzzy teeth upon the world! Or maybe not, since I could smell it too. Fine; I brushed my teeth first, mainly because I hated the idea of getting toothpaste on my clothes and then the Gloom finding out about it later. the aspirin came next; the water I downed them with tasted odd; it was what I expected coming from a clear stream and not Central's water tap.
I put my uniform on and there was a brush under it; the meaning there was clear. I realized as I brushed that my hat was a ribbon, and entwined in my hair; I hadn't even felt it. As I brushed my hair out around the ribbon the shower cut off and Gray stepped out, wrapped in a towel... my favorite towel.
"You look well today Sasha. Ready for duty."
The smug bastard. "Yeah, ready to kick some alien ass." I replied as I finally retrieved what I was looking for. They appeared ready for use.
"Um, shouldn't that be "Ready to kick some witch ass?" Gray asked me.
"Not just yet." I informed him, and he was gone.
I hit the front door while it was still swinging from his passage; there were boots there which I dove my feet into without dumping too much momentum; odds were there was broken glass and other sharp things lingering in the halls. "Come on Gray, it'll only hurt a little! I promise!"
His answer was surprising - and angering. "You should avoid loud utterances Sasha; your co-workers are sleeping."
He wasn't wrong; some of them were even in the halls. I'd have thought were hit last night after i went to bed, but the moans and groans told me everyone was still alive, for various definitions of the term.
I was still on thin ice; waking up some trigger happy jerk dealing with their own morning after, especially with a ribbon or hat on my head, was not a smart idea. Having someone find out that I was chasing my familiar would be disaster. Some of my fellow hunters could be downright violent and not at all reasonable.
As much as it annoyed me, I had to be quiet. That was fine, I was used to silent stalking.
Oh hey, Sarah was at the front desk, without a single hair out of place and only her cute yawns betraying last night.
She spotted me as I hit the base of the stairs, and didn't look away.
"Oh good morning Sasha! You're up early."
I winced; my head was kind of fine, but I feared for the heads of the bodies spread around the lobby. That was just a bit too loud and cheerful.
"Good morning Sarah. How are you awake?" Sure she had drank less than I and many others, but she had still been drunk enough to dance.
She smiled, and all but shouted: "Well, this morning is my shift, and some of us have to put on a professional demeanor for our customers, the citizens."
Uh, okay. "Have you had many people come in?"
"Not a one!" Sarah replied with enough false cheer to choke me. "But it's the principle of the thing, isn't it?"
"I guess so." Gray was behind Sarah's shoulder, giving me a pointed look. I'm guessing it would be a bad thing to admit I wouldn't even be awake if not for... random chance, yeah that was it.
"Well, if we get a call I'd like to put my team in for it. Or Plague's team. Or Ivan's, whoever is leading it now."
"Not Alicia's team?" Sarah asked with a sparkle in her eye.
She was joking with me, and that was amazing, but some jokes just shouldn't be made. "Hell no. I will sit in a ditch and pull the dirt up over me before the bearded lady is my boss."
Sarah's giggle was like music. "I was just kidding Sasha, and I'll put you down for a job; there isn't a long list so far. So what are you up to? I didn't expect to see you down here so soon."
Gray was wandering off toward the training rooms. Specifically the large one I'd been given permission to use the last time I was here. And what had Sarah meant by that, exactly? "Training, apparently."
"Well good luck. Try not to break too much."
I started after Gray. "I'll try but no promises; you know how it is, the janitorial staff would have nothing to do but sit around and drink without us."
That sounded like a grand idea, actually. I wonder if Gloom would let me transfer, at least for a little while.
The door to the training wing was open, and the door to my specific room was open. I entered to find Gray on top of one of the targets. I shut and locked the door behind me, and turned the 'in use' light on.
"Do you really think I need practice? I don't miss, Gray."
"Not with those, Sasha," Gray replied, pointing at my guns. "But there are other things to learn."
"We're indoors, can you even summon those things here?"
"Not those either Sasha." Gray replied.
"Well then I'm pretty sure I don't know what youre talking about."
"Science, of course." Gray explained, pointing to my head.
I pulled one of my new guns. "Not following you, and honestly not caring. I'm just too tired, and my head aches too much."
Gray cocked his head. "Are you Sasha? Are you really?"
I took stock. I was tired earlier, but I felt fine now actually, and my head was as clear as a bell's tone. "Okay, maybe not, and we will discuss how you did that later, but for now, dance!"
He danced, and my shot actually missed. "Clean living Sasha, and I thought you never missed?"
Why that little.... He danced again, and I missed again.
"Use your visor, Sasha."
Oh, right. With a thought my ribbon squiggled in my hair (and that felt all kinds of weird) and reformed into my helmet and visor; the HUD clicked on and outlined Gray as my current target; Gray danced out of the way again as my third shot went off, but the beam curled around, chasing him. He lunged and hit the ground running, weaving in between the stationary targets; the shot went through five targets before losing steam.
He was playing a dangerous game.
A second lock on was followed by a third and a a fourth, then several more. When I fired again, the small pistol fired a full dozen shots, all of which tracked Gray around the large chamber, wiping out targets along the way. Until there were no more targets, and Gray didn't have anything else to hide behind.
He looked to me, but I was already moving; That was an old trick, and one I've dealt with before. As fast as the little guy was, he couldn't catch up to me before the last 3 shots found him, and they were light of a sort, or something, so he couldn't force them to hit each other. All three shots found him, and passed through him? Without a target the shots rapidly lost cohesion and killed some wall paint.
He was gone, but I knew he wasn't dead or even hurt. Instead, he was smug. "A good effort Sasha. You should attempt to remember how that felt, so that you may use that ability again."
"What did you do?"
Gray faded back into view, holding up a small rectangular box with a button inset on it. A device of some kind, clearly. "I teleported to my spacecraft."
Teleported. "Can I do that?"
Gray nodded sagely. "Of course, but a spacecraft is the only destination as yet. I've yet to ascertain whether it is possible to build a teleportation station on this planet; current technology seems to suggest otherwise."
Yeah, right. Sure thing. "I have the feeling that you and Emil would love each other if you could talk."
Gray cocked his head again. "But we can discuss matter of science. You need only allow me to reveal myself to your colleagues."
"Yeah, let's not do that." Gray and Emil must never meet; together they would blow up the world or something. Probably something worse. "So, teach me how to do that teleportation thing."
......
Gloom came to; as always secretly happy that both he and the installation he was in charge of were in one piece. His own office immaculate as always, he took the steps to match before leaving the friendly confines of his office. There was a surprising lack of blood in the halls, and all of his hunters appeared to be breathing, which was always a plus after a celebration. Some were even beginning to rouse themselves, and before noon.
The less that was said about his own hours today the better. The paper engine that ran this place wasn't going to rubber stamp itself, after all.
Most of those in the lobby appeared to have roused themselves and moved off, likely with Sarah's gentle urging; the lobby itself was in the recovery process and almost clean, but there were still some areas best not traveled over.
"Good afternoon, Sarah." Gloom tried not to look too deeply into those lovestruck blue eyes. It was best not to dwell on such things.
"Good afternoon Gloom." Sarah replied, gazing up at im before snapping out of it and grabbing a stack of paper from under her counter. It was sizable, he noted with dismay, and clipped together."
"Today's hunter requests so far. Do you want them?" Sarah asked, her tone almost demanding he take the things.
"Yes, I'll take them." He would have to sign off on them anyway; there was no sense in sending a runner to his office later, and the fact that it made him look busy as he took this walk was a plus.
He pretended not to notice Sarah stepping out from her kiosk and putting her toes to a blissfully snoring hunter that didn't even stir; the young gentleman would be some interesting shades in an hour. Gloom shrugged; really it served him right - it was well known that Sarah had some issues with 'slackers'. it was also well known that drink was no excuse as far as she was concerned.
Someone was working, however; Gloom noticed the in use sign was flipped over training room two and only room two. Something about the number tickled his memory for a moment, those brain cells holding the memory no doubt dead to his drink of the night before... but then he had it.
He employed his key override and cracked open the door, cautiously.
His caution was rewarded; the inevitable sounds of breaking items were muffled. The expected explosions were absent, however. A glance inside was a qualified risk.
The last hunter he expected to see was inside the room, currently contorting herself into dodges most would be hard pressed to match while snapping off shots aimed at debris currently flying around the chamber at significant speed.
The shots were not truly bullets but were instead silent lances of light. Silent lances of light which would arc or in some cases loop back completely in order to hit their target. A target which without exception was the size of a dime and no larger. There were an even dozen beams of light in the air, actively hunting targets at the moment.
In her wild corkscrewing gyrations, Sasha's gaze crossed the door; her visor washed out all view of her face and eyes with it's brilliant blue glow, but it was clear she noticed the door was open when she slowed her spin to a stop. No more beams joined those already in motion and the extra targets fell to the floor with a clatter.
"Who's there?" Sasha's hands holstered her new weapons and drew away from them; slowly but just fast enough to give the illusion of nonchalance. She had been taught very well.
"It's just me, Sasha."
Gloom could see her visibly relax, but only because he knew what to look for. "Not sure if that's a good thing or not boss, I kinda made a mess in here.
A mess was a bit of an understatement; the reinforced walls ceiling and floor all bore scorch marks, there were a few new shallow dents here and there, and not a single target of either stationary or mobile variety was in one piece.
Yet at the same time, nothing of the room itself needed replacing, and the walls were all intact, after hours of use. Sasha had clearly been taking it easy in here.
Sasha leaned back, a hand ruffling her hair and her eyes widening ever so slightly; proving that she could read him as well as he could read her; he would have to work on that.
"Well it looks like you're at the limit of what you can do in here by yourself. how about I help you?"
He slowly bent down and put the clipboard down; he knew it would be safe there near the door, even in the heat of a pitched battle.
"Um, I don't think that's a good idea; I'm getting a little tired, I've been working on this for a while now. Out of curiosity, what time is it, anyway?"
"A bit after noon. How long have you been in here?"
Another tell, this one of slow burning anger. "Since about eight; that...!"
And there it was, Gloom thought. The wedge. "What that, Sasha?"
Sasha drew back, her lead foot trailing through the debris in a manner reminiscent of a child caught in a crime. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just got up early is all, and decided to practice."
That image when combined with her uniform... Gloom would have suspected magic. He decided not to make the statement. "You can trust me, Sasha."
Sasha deflated and the words came out in a rush. "It was Gray; he made me get up, and drink water. Water! I've only had a few hours of sleep!"
Gloom fought to keep the smile from his face. Whatever the demon seed had done to her, she seemed the better for it; lively almost. "See? That wasn't so hard. However, you did lie to me, so... a hunter must be ready to battle at all times. Even when a little tired."
Gloom drew his gloves on, relishing how all the blood fled Sasha's face.
Alicia was entirely too happy, flitting around without a care in the world, well past noon. She hadn't exercised, not the way I had.
"Wow Sasha, you look like hell."
I needed to sum up the pure evil of the morning in one word. What word to pick was easy.
"Gloom."
Alicia blanched. "Is he still around? Come on Sasha, don't do me dirty today."
I decided to have mercy. "He's in his office. He had his fill making my morning."
Alicia sat down at the bench beside me, and one meaty hand clapped me on the shoulder. It actually hurt a little. "Damn Sasha, that's rough. Sorry."
She rubbed my shoulder a bit more, her unibrow knit in concentration.
"What are you doing?"
"Just feeling those little chicken bones of yours. Were they always the size of toothpicks?"
Right. I was tired, but not that tired. "Ha ha. You want some training of your own?"
Alicia Gripped a bit harder for a moment as she stood up. "How about we forget all about that, and I get you a little hair of the dog that bit you?"
I stared at Gray. He stopped looking at the device he was holding, and stared back. "Get me some water too, and it's a deal."
"Water?!? What the hell? You going to take a bath right here or something?"
"I know, I know, just do it please."
Alicia stared at me a moment. "Don't get all flakey on me, Sasha."
"Fine, do it or I'll shave half your beard so you look funny."
Alicia clapped me on the shoulder again. "That's more like it! Be right back."
While Alicia did her thing, Ivan stepped down, adjusting his weapon belt; he visibly started when he saw me, and walked over.
"You look like hell Sasha."
"Yeah, getting that a lot lately. Gloom decided I needed practice."
The visible wince Ivan gave was a little gratifying; someone else knew.
"Sorry. You seen Alicia?"
"Yeah, she made it down already and decided to be nice for a change; did you wake her up or something?"
Ivan nodded. "I did, then Plague wanted to bend my ear over something. It seems I had more bounty money to pick up, and the bean counters were getting nervous that I hadn't banked it yet."
"Ah. I hate when that happens." For most hunters, they made some money, they put some into retirement savings.
I thought it was a scam; the only retired hunter was a dead one. Though if you wanted to pay for a really big funeral I guess it was useful.
I remembered the last one of those I went to.
"Here you go, Sasha. Water, a beer, and some aspirin, courtesy of Sarah."
I looked up at Alicia, who was actually smiling. "Thanks."
I took the items pills first, downed those with the water, finished the glass and threw it at Gray (who had clearly expected something and caught it) and took the bottle. It would be best to sip it slow.
Ivan raised an eyebrow as me as Alicia sat back down on the other side of the bench.
"What? I was thirsty."
"Nothing," he replied. "So, how many teams do you think are up and ready to be fielded at the moment?"
"Can't be many," I replied, scratching my chin. (Which was still annoyingly hairless - I didn't know how Alicia managed.) "I haven't seen too many people awake, let alone people I'd consider fight ready."
"You don't consider anyone fight worthy," Alicia said, clearly trying to start a fight.
I kept calm. "Not many, no. but in this case, not too many awake and upright."
"Then its very likely we'll get sent out if we're here," Ivan said.
"Yep, sure is," I agreed. I was fine with that, really. Well if I could walk more than five steps. And if my head would stop pounding.
"Yeah, let's go outside for a bit," Alicia replied with a weird look at Sarah.
Ivan stood and offered a hand. "Come on, I'll buy."
Well, I wasn't one to turn down free anything, so I let him help me up. "Buy what?"
"I don't care, you pick... as long as it isn't too expensive or a new gun or something."
What a spoilsport; you could never have too many guns.
"Works for me."
The joke was on them anyway; any assignment that was coming in would still be ours once we got back.
The sun was too bright; I had to manfully resist my temptation to use my visor or even just expand my hat and put it on. Wearing a hat here would not be a good move, even with my uniform.
"So where to?"
"The market?" Alicia suggested.
There weren't many beer stands or bars in the market and those that were there were along the edges. It was all food or clothes or stupid crap no one wanted, like hand woven baskets or dolls or crap like that. It wade me a bit curious; why did Alicia want to go there of all places?
"Sure, fine, whatever. But we're going by way of third."
Third street near the market had the best cheap dive this entire town had to offer; 'throat-cutters'. It was like that old British place, hooters, except for assassins. I liked it because we wouldn't be disturbed there; I was already getting enough attention on the street to make my trigger finger itch.
alicia rolled her eyes dramatically but conceded. "Sure, I could use a drink myself."
Maybe I'd start wearing my bum disguise more; I shouldn't be getting this much attention in Central, I was well known here. Would a disguise help or hinder that?
At least the idiots knew well enough to stay well away from us. Only I was allowed to step on Gray, and he was having a hard enough time already with that. Too curious for his own good i suppose; the lure of knowledge of how humans were seemed to be more than he could pass up.
I had to rein him in when he started rifling purses and bags while the owners were staring at us.
"Gray, stick closer and stay out of people's stuff."
I said it softly, but I was sure both Alicia and Ivan heard me. They stayed quiet about it, but it was hard to hide the change in body language. I idly wondered which one of them had my collar control, but dismissed the thought as pointless; either the button would get pressed or it wouldn't - worrying about it was a waste of time.
"So, eat yet Sasha?"
"I had some breakfast before Gloom got ahold of me. Kind of. If you count those protien bars as breakfast."
"Yeah, we don't do that," Alicia informed me, slapping her own middle. "Let's get some lunch then, before we hit that dive of yours."
"Fine." I was feeling some bread. I wasn't sure what kind of bread, but I wanted bread. Maybe garlic bread marinated in butter? With some summer sausage or bacon on the side, or even slapped in between it? But where would I get such a thing, no restaurant, food stand, or greasy dive offered that sort of thing.
No, I knew where the desire for that fare came from - a small house, set up on a hill, a forest behind it and sheep pastured to the left and right of it. A summer day with hay and dust in the air, and the smell of fresh bread tickling the nose. It chilled me just thinking of it.
"Sasha, you okay?" And just like that I was back, Alicia's words snapped me out of it.
"Sorry, was just thinking," Gray was looking up at me, head cocked and squeezing my hand. I squeezed back, then pulled my hand away before someone noticed. "I'm good with whatever."
Alicia wasn't buying it. "You sure? You looked like you had a thought there for a moment, rattling around all lonely in that empty head."
"Ha ha. Yeah, I'm fine, let's just find something at a stand somewhere."
What was that? I hadn't thought of that day in years. Why now? Was it Gray's doing somehow?
Ivan let it alone at least, but I could tell it would come up again later.
We settled on wraps from a stand; there was some choice involved, so I chose bacon and peppers. Judging from the taste, it actually was bacon, which was a welcome surprise; even in Central one had to be careful. Lunch had the added bonus of being easily transportable, which meant that by the time we had finished up, we were at my 'dive'.
Well I was finished; luckily the bouncers didn't bat an eye if you wanted to bring food in. Some even encouraged the practice for known clientele. The new blood were laughed at if they ordered something from the pitiful menu and got sick; it was almost a right of passage. Of course, hunters didn't get such treatment in any event, no matter how new.
The contrast between bright sunlight outside and shadow laden gloom left me blinking of course, as it was meant to do. I navigated easily despite the handicap and found myself at the bar; the order of tables and booths never changed in this place.
Surprisingly I was recognized right off. "Sasha! Glad to see you aren't hiding behind that silly trap disguise any longer."
The bartender, Mike, was supposedly observant. But he'd always been one of those who steadfastly insisted I was a girl in disguise. He wasn't big in the survival instinct department. Was it worth the fight? Would I get convicted if I killed him?
I surprised myself by not wanting trouble, or a return of my headache. "Yeah, you caught me. Unless I'm disguised now of course."
Mike grinned and slid over one of his specialty beers. "Nah, your voice says otherwise. You finally stopped trying to talk out of the back of your throat too. I like it, it's a nice change."
I sat, very mindful of Ivan and Alicia flanking me. "you're lucky I don't feel like it today, Mike, or you'd already be on the floor."
Mike held up his hands in surrender, and his tongue went to the gap in his teeth I'd put there last time he said something stupid. "Sorry, the sight of you in a skirt shocked me. The beer is free, alright? Just don't hit me."
Despite the words, he was still grinning like an idiot. He was really lucky today. "Fine. Just serve and go away."
He served and went away, and I was just about to relax when a pair of sim hands settled around me and gave a squeeze. Breath tickled my throat. "Long time no see, Sasha."
Natasha, which wasn't her real name, was an oddity. By all accounts she was one of the best assassins in the world. Whether that was true or not, she was one of the few who had the skills to be a hunter - yet didn't hunt. She wouldn't even kill a witch when she had the perfect opportunity, so the rumor went. I wasn't a fan.
Tall blonde and statuesque (I'd heard her described that way once, and it seemed to fit; she certainly looked like one of those fake Roman bronzes placed outside houses of ill-repute to give the place a touch of class.) She appeared to be in that ageless age, where one could not pinpoint the actual year she was born. She was always dressed in the best clothes, ate the best food, and drank the best liquor. Her accent was thick but probably fake; yet a skilled fake. I'd yet to see a single hair out of place - or see her fight, and yet all manner of nasty people stayed out of her way. Well, those same people stayed out of my way too.
Natasha didn't even look away as she eased up, she just profiled right. "Move."
Alicia moved and Natasha took her seat. "So, Sasha... you seem to have upgraded from 'trap' to one of us. Care to tell me how?"
What did traps have to do with anything? I knew how to lay some - simple snares mostly, but being one? That her statement was some kind of male insult, I was sure. She had little use for men, and the manlier the more she hated.
"Am I going to have to shoot you, Natasha? Besides, how would you know? Mike seems convinced I was like this all along."
"Simple," she replied, downing her drink, an uncut whiskey unless I missed my guess. "Those aren't forms on your chest, there is more movement in your stride, and most importantly - you smell...differently. A female scent is a thing no man can fake. So care to tell me how I find you here, smelling of a better you mixed with exotic explosives, and missing your trademark pistols in favor of something decidedly not you? I'd very much like to know."
Her finger tapped my back, so quickly I'd bet no one else saw... but there could be no doubt; it was my hat she was tapping.
What even was she, part bloodhound? Smell me? Smelled the explosives enclosed in the metal collar? Did she smell my hat too?
Whatever. If she started something, she started something. She was undoubtedly good, but an experienced hunter was better. I showed her my teeth.
"Lab accident. Blame Emil if you must."
Natasha raised a manicured eyebrow. "Quite the accident. I think I must; blame Emil that is."
Having Natasha stalk Emil was a nice image, even if she normally never did anything for free. I couldn't see where the weapon pointed at me was, but I was sure it was there. Gray stepped up behind her unseen, and pointed it out. A small derringer or spike gun controlled by a toe... installed in her heels. Natasha really had missed her calling.
Not that it would slow me down; it would have to be a very heavy shot for the new me to even notice. But it was the thought that counted.
Natasha leaned in on me again with a sigh, coincidentally aiming a heel my direction. "Such a shame... you were growing up so well; almost as beautiful as I, with such wonderful male energy. The only thing left I recognize is your anger."
"You can always get a more first hand view of my anger. Just keep draping yourself on me." Had Natasha gained weight or something? She was almost pulling me off the barstool, and that hadn't happened in years. It was deliberate I was sure, but it wouldn't affect my ability to blow her away; I'd just roll the other way and draw.
Natasha got off abruptly, but I absorbed the shift in balance. "I think not. You still have the same eyes, Sasha darling, and you are still a student of a master. Some would say THE master; I would be foolish to antagonize such, wouldn't you say?"
Now she was speaking my language; it was always nice when someone recognized my talents. "Of course I would, but I always say that."
Even the worst student of my teacher would have little issue with Natasha, for all her amazing talents. Without a generator I was confident; well, without a generator and any odd powers.
"Of course," Natasha admitted. "Well, enjoy your drink, little Sasha. My apologies for the interruption."
With the last word Natasha flat out melted into the shadows as well as any human could. It was actually difficult to pick her out as she went back to what had to be the most well hidden booth in the place. The other denizens of the place hadn't so much as moved towards it during our exchange - her throne, possibly.
She'd also done me a solid. By coming to me first, she kept the lid on other's curiosity. Even now they were watching, but watching was all they were doing. Kind of an odd thing for her to do, but then again she was always a little odd.
I was happy to finish my drink in silence though, even if Alicia was all but rolling her eyes and Ivan was sighing a lot and glaring. I'd hoped for some actual conversation, if not from my own team, then some interesting intel from the other shady types here; shady types often knew things before anyone else did, for a variety of reasons - but mainly because their lives depended on it.
Want a lead on a witch? An assassin could have it, since taking a contract in a territory a witch has set up shop could lead to contract failure and death.
But no, no one was forthcoming, when usually I'd have at least three tips by now, all carefully worded to not actually mention names or places and so avoid any witch's wrath. It was actually one of the few reasons this dive was tolerated so close to the Wyld Hunt's central office, not that we made a big deal of it. There were even similar dives sharing space with our other offices too.
Whatever. I sighed and walked out, leaving Ivan and Alicia scrambling to pay and catch up.
"What was all that back there? Usually you can't shut up if your life depended on it Alicia."
Alicia took a minute to answer. "They weren't sure what to make of us, and I didn't want to give them ideas."
"You worry too much, they weren't going to start anything." They were my kind of people, after all.
"They don't like new things, Sasha. And you dressed as you are is a new thing to them."
That... was actually true. Maybe Natasha had done me more of a solid than I knew, even if the rumors about me would probably hit the most remote corners of the earth by noon tomorrow. Oh well, it was bound to happen anyway.
And with Natasha's name behind it, the words might mean fewer complications down the road. Not that I'll ever admit such a thing.
In the market at last, and Alicia took full advantage, flitting here and there and inspecting everything with gleaming eyes. At least she wasn't giggling like Plague would.
I didn't need anything except to restock my booze, and I wouldn't do that here. I guess I could shop for some weaponry; maybe some sharp pointy things or things that go boom. You never really could have too many of either, and Central attracted some of the best weapons dealers on the planet.
Alicia was shopping for skirts, of course. She held up a lemon one and asked: "So what do you think?"
Was she directing that question at me? She was looking my way. I looked behind me, and there wasn't anyone nearby except Gray.
Huh. I guess she was. "I think it's too bright and way too small." It was true, there was no way she'd fit in that thing.
Her grin was... more than a little unhinged. "Not for me, silly. For you."
Ah, she actually was crazy. "Same answer. Something that bright will get me killed, and I doubt I could stuff myself in it."
Alicia made a show of checking the tag again while the merchant, an older woman sharing Alicia's build minus the muscle fumed in the background.
"Really? It's a three."
That sounded familiar... like a size Auntie might have mentioned, or the one marked on the back of some of the skirts Plague dumped on me. But that was a trap, and Alicia wasn't catching me in it.
"Besides it's not meant to fight in, you already have the uniform for that. It's for time off."
What? "What kind of time off is there, that my uniform isn't good enough for?"
I mean our uniforms were pretty respectable (when clean anyway) and used for everything from weddings to funerals. What would looking like a lemon be good for?
Alicia tossed the skirt on the merchant's face with a sigh. "We really have to get you civilized."
"We really don't," I told her. "I'm not some dress up doll."
"But you are as cute as one!"
Ivan stepped between us. "Alicia, can you not antagonize armed people in a crowded market, please?"
"Fine, fine. I'm sorry, Sasha."
What. Did I hear that right?
"Did you just apologize to me?" I turned to Ivan. "Did you hear that?"
Ivan elbowed my ribs. "Quit trying to antagonize armed people in a crowded market, Sasha."
I really wasn't; I was actually shocked. But whatever. I stood on my toes with my hands behind my back and sang out: "Sorry Momma Ivan, it won't happen again."
Ivan choked while Alicia laughed and muttered something that sounded like "Too real, oh my God, too real."
"Can we shop for things that actually have a use now?" Like weapons.
"Not all of us like dressing like a bum when we aren't on the clock, Sasha."
I had to admit that was a fair point. "Fair, but bums don't have to worry about looking out of place."
Bums also didn't have to worry about getting billed for 'excess damages and excessive force' until much later if at all. But hey, having two coins to rub together was overrated anyway.
"Whatever, if you need to clothes shop, I recommend the tent stand over there; just leave me out of your sick fantasies, okay?"
"Tent shop! Why, I'll have you know my figure is best described by the word 'svelte'!"
"Is that a Russian word? Because that sounds like a Russian word."
Ivan stopped looking amused. "And what's that supposed to mean, exactly?"
"Nothing at all. It just sounds like a Russian word, and its a well known fact that Russians favor larger women. Larger, hairier women."
Ivan opened his mouth... and then closed it. He opened it again. "You know, I want to argue with you, but I really can't. Svelte is French though."
"Oh great, I soiled my tongue with French words. Only another beer can fix that."
Great, now Gray was giving me the stare. I almost called him out on it - but in a crowded market that was a bad idea.
"Not a bad idea," Ivan admitted. "I think I saw a stand over there Why don't we let Alicia work the shopping bug out and quench our thirst on this hot day?"
As excuses went, it was a good one. The day wasn't even hot - but it could be. We left Alicia looking inside some shop or other; she would catch up to us when she was ready. The stand wasn't far, and while the beer wasn't great, it was wet.
"Sasha."
I leaned closer to Ivan. "What is it, Gray?"
Looking way from Ivan toward where Gray was pointing made it easier to ignore the face Ivan was giving me. It also allowed me to see that one of our own hunters was currently running as if a fiery demon were on her very impractical heels. I didn't recognize her and she had no weapon, so she was likely a secretary pressed into service as a runner. She was young, with short auburn hair lit on fire by the sun, and she was on the small side, though larger than me. Aggravatingly so.
She stopped in the center of the street and looked around with wide eyes as I pointed her out to Ivan. "Time to vanish?"
"Time to vanish." Ivan agreed.
Any runner sent to find us, had to earn the right to talk to us. If they couldn't find us, they didn't deserve to call themselves a hunter, let alone give us a job that would more than likely be annoying. I mean, any hunter had an island of calm in central no matter how busy the streets were; if she couldn't pick up on that she needed to go back to her master and beg to be retrained.
As expected she homed right in; now it was a foot race. To her credit she didn't waste time or breath on words, but broke into a sprint.
It was almost laughably slow, but it was a sprint.
I led Ivan around and up the side of a shop, using a convenient rain gutter. (Was it supposed to point right out to the middle of the street like that? I thought it was supposed to be aimed at the drains instead.)
Ivan kept up, though it seemed he was getting a little slower in his old age. He was also studiously avoiding looking up, which reminded me I wasn't wearing pants and that had to be a thing now. Just another thing to not to be spoken of ever again. Ivan and I already had plenty of those, so one more wouldn't hurt. Gray somehow got ahead of us; he was waiting for me when I pulled myself over the top.
To her credit the slow Huntress managed to find us; if she was mad that we were sitting on the roof's edge, dangling our legs in practiced nonchalance, she didn't show it.
I wasn't impressed with her cardio however; she had to gasp her message at us. I'd have to lead her a bit farther afield next time. "Sasha Norre, Ivan Naseef, you're needed back at Central for a mission."
I shrugged. "Message received, on our way."
There was no one under us, and it was the fastest way down. I slid off, and Ivan followed with a groan. Barely over a second later my feet touched down.
"No need for the theatrics, Ivan. We've taken plenty worse falls."
"It's the principle of the thing, Sasha."
There was a whump behind me followed by a short cry. Well well well, our messenger had followed us down. She hadn't stuck the landing, probably due to her ridiculous heels, but she'd tried. I moved to get her attention and pointed.
"For the record, if one wanted to find Hunter Alicia, she would be that direction, probably in the same clothing store she was in twenty minutes ago."
"Thanks," the messenger said, immediately sprinting off with just a bare hint of a limp.
Time off was overrated anyway, but Alicia would decide how much we got by how lost she got.
And now we were headed back to France. Plague wasn't with us this time, she had been sent somewhere else; Gloom hadn't told me when I asked, and I hadn't pushed.
Ivan was technically in charge now, because no one in their right mind or otherwise would give Alicia her own team. One of the two had the trigger to my lovely new fashion accessory, the bomb collar.
I wasn't going to do anything about it of course, but it was something to note. If either of them wound up dead, or even worse, became compromised, I was going to have a bad day.
So why were we headed back into France so soon? It seemed that in some nowhere village in southern France, rumors of a certain witch had spread. A certain which who used blood based rituals, according to the sites the locals had found.
With luck, it would be Suspira. While other witches used blood rites all the time, blood was her specialty. I really wanted Suspira's head on a plate. The problem is, she was another strong one, like Riddle was.
Truth told, she was probably stronger. My team would likely never have been sent after her alone before skirts became part of my uniform - not that I was bitter or anything. She had a larger body count but usually played with people less, preferring to just kill them.
It made the case that the witch the locals had found wasn't her, because they were still alive. Still, she could be playing the long game, so it warranted a strong team rather than rookies to follow up on, lucky us.
I wouldn't really care, but... France. Again.
Of course Gray was having the time of his life; his little face plastered to the train car window, drinking in the scenery while I drank a few other choice things.
I was alone in the car; Ivan had opted to grab water of all things, and walked out, muttering something about checking inventory; he was taking this leadership thing way too seriously. Alicia was somewhere - didn't know, didn't care.
The train didn't run all the way to this out of the way hole in the forest we were going to, so we would have to hike more than a few miles through cheese country. I wasn't really looking forward to it - but someone had to do it.
Maybe I'd get a chance to take an actual break after this one; I wanted one, suddenly. Well, I wanted something anyway, I wasn't sure what.
Lemonade would do for now, even if it was clean of any of my choice additives.
In front of me was a book; one that didn't even have pictures. I'd been staring at it for awhile; even if I were into books, this one would lose me after a sentence. Or make me fall asleep.
I really needed to read it though, even if all the sentences were like 'from the zen state, turn South counter clockwise, then face the North point and press your palms together.'
No joke, it actually said that. It was a book on magic, after all. I wasn't sure how to feel about not being able to make any sense of it; but it was all Greek to me.
I had gotten it from Central's library; the hunt still kept a few, to better educate us hunters. Most hunters burned such books in the field because they were a valuable resource to all witches; even mortal enemies had been known to ambush hunters who killed their rivals to get a book. Central had a rather amazing library under lock and key anyway.
This book was a suggestion. One could even say it came highly recommended; it even had some good hints on what we were likely to run into.
But all that did not change the fact that Ivan and Alicia both were elsewhere as long as it was open, and my nose was in it. I had to admit that reading was unnatural, but they were taking the revulsion a bit too far.
When I read, I learned new words. I wasn't sure what revulsion had to do with blood magic circles of protection, but I'd figure it out. It might be something I could use though, if the worst happened.
As long as I didn't get the squiggles wrong. Bad things would probably happen if I did.
"Why are you even bothering with such tripe, Sasha?" Gray asked. Somehow in my ruminations he had snuck up on me and was reading the diagram over my shoulder.
"Because it may come in handy later."
"But it's all dependent on the mind the ideas came from. If you want a circle of protection, you'll provide it yourself. The power is yours, not some foreign gods or spirits. Your abilities do not work that way."
"But other witches are, well, witches. They use stuff similar to this, and can even learn from each other."
"You are not most witches, Sasha, and all are different. You know this. Some are similar enough to share ideas, but this book? Wasn't from one similar to you. Aside from recognition, which you already have, the book is a waste of time for you."
"Well, that's all I really need to hear." I mean, I knew it, but it was good to get a second opinion.
I tossed the book in the corner. It had been something to do, but if reading it would lead to bad habits, I'd rather just sit and clean my pistols. Of course my new pistols didn't need it, being crazy magical science or whatever, and my old pistols didn't need it because they had been cleaned already, but the act of checking them over gave me something to do.
The train slowed as I was finishing up. The village of Frejas, on the coast, if I remembered my map right. A very old place. We had to go inland from here, because our target was Mont Vinaigre, a very commanding mountain that had a tiny little village on top and bad roads. It was almost predictable as another witch habitat, being tiny and remote.
Too obvious really, anyone who had been in the game long enough would realize that. But then again, witches kept falling for it, so maybe there was something to it after all? Maybe one day I'd find out.
Ivan opened the door and walked up to snag a bottle. "We're here Sasha, time to go."
I grabbed my own bottle. Hard lemonade, I wanted it and it was here. Ivan's eyebrow rose and I stood there for a moment, daring him to say anything.
He didn't, so I left to get my gear. The gear I may not really need, it Gray was to be believed. I'd still be taking it, because even if I could just fly up the mountain and fly back, my team couldn't, and they might need my stuff even if I never did. Plus I wasn't leaving my old pistols here; just like at Central, if I wasn't there they might vanish.
The things I worry about now; no one would even have dreamed of trying to take my guns before.
Maybe it was just putting boots on French soil again, maybe it was the point that I was stepping outside a train for the third time in a month, staring at a wooded path into the country, but this suddenly felt like all the times I'd done this before. I felt tired, for some reason, even though I hadn't been awake all that long really. Weary, that was the word.
It didn't matter, what I felt. I had a job to do.
It was lucky that we didn't need to go into town.
"Hey, can we stop in at the town? We can see if they have anything interesting in their shops."
The decision whether or not to shop was out of my hands. But good for all of us Ivan was closer to me than Alicia.
"Maybe when we come back; we don't need anything now, and I don't want the witch getting away."
"So the train's staying?"
"Yep," That wasn't really odd, but it did mean nothing else really important was going on. Either that or someone was pulling a string in case we needed a quick getaway.
Pulling out of a station with an angry mob on our heels had only happened once, I swear, it happens one time and no one ever lets you forget!
Okay, so maybe Twice if you counted that time in Morocco. But come on, no one ever counted Morocco.
Whatever, just let it go. A trail ahead of you, just like all the other times before, one foot in front of the other, scanning for threats.
Wait, I didn't need to just use my eyes to scan for threats. "Ivan, permission to do a thing?"
Despite the fact that we could clearly see the village behind us (it made a rather nice backdrop) no one was around. Ivan made sure and nodded.
"Sure, as long as it isn't explosive."
I worked with assholes. "Not everything I do is explosive."
My hat transformed from it's normal floppy self; Gray helped me pull the visor out of my uniform and set it.
There were no human life signs near us, only small animals. I wasn't sure what the range was, but there were no ambushes in the immediate area.
"Creepy," Alicia told me.
I was curious. "What is?"
"That... thing on your head is lighting up, and it feels warmer when you look at me. What are you doing?"
"Scanning for threats. I don't have to just use my eyes anymore. You don't need to worry, it's not hurting you."
"I wasn't worried, I trust you," Alicia told me. We both knew she was lying.
"Don't need to worry so much, this is just another case of 'whack-a-witch.'" Good old Ivan; nothing really got to him. He started off, leading the way.
"They do keep popping up lately, don't they?" I followed.
"They enjoy us slapping them down," Alicia opined.
I couldn't really argue with that, they wanted the punishment.
Fun fact, having space ships up in the sky made it even easier for Gray to spot potential danger than it did for me.
"Sasha, The village appears peaceful. There are humans milling about in it, and none appear distressed."
Or to spot nothing, in this case. "Ivan, the village seems to be fine."
"Right, that's a good thing. We have a contact in it, who can tell us what is going on."
It was the hike of an entire day to get up to just the base of the hill; sunshine and tweeting birds and rustling animals, snapping branches in their haste to get away from us. The trail was clearly marked, and we stuck to it. Our contact met us at the base of the mountain. I pulled off my hat/visor before he spotted us, and shifted it back. Gray helped me hide it again.
He was old, only a bit taller than I was, and more grizzled than anyone I had ever seen. He had a bunch of scars across his face (claw marks) and head (giving him stripes of baldness) which I could tell he wore with obvious pride. He was well into the ranks of the white haired, but his back was unbent and he was still sporting enough wiry muscle to make people half his age jealous.
And he wasn't French, that was a plus.
"Well, if it isn't Central's best team." British, and sarcastic. I could work with that.
"That would be Gloom's team, but yeah we're pretty good."
He turned to look at me. "Sasha Norre - you seem... different in person."
Jerk. "Crap happens. And you are?"
"Warren. A businessman, lately retired."
Yeah, I didn't believe that for a second. "Sasha,as you noted. That's Alicia, and that's Ivan. What do you have for us?"
This guy still believed I was in charge, or was willing to act like it, so I'd let him.
"Pleased to meet you all. What I have, is a problem. There are some caves, or catacombs, or both in some cases, beneath the mountain. They are relics of some old war or another, and the police regularly patrol them. During one of those patrols, several circles, drawn in blood, were found in a few of the chambers, along with sign of recent habitation.
The police themselves are baffled, as there have been no disappearances or even reports of strange activity, so they called me in. And I of course, called in the hunt."
So, same old crap, different day. Witches always found old ruins or catacombs or graveyards or some other out of the way place to set up shop. Or tried to take over small towns or villages in out of the way spots. They all did it, and it just got so old.
"Lead the way," Ivan told him when I didn't.
He started visibly and turned from giving me a second look. Yeah, he knew something was up. At least he wasn't trying to piss me off yet.
"This way," Warren told us, setting off on an overgrown trail, silent as a whisper.
We matched him and eased our way through the forest. He didn't talk, something I was grateful for.
Warren led us halfway around the base of the mountain along a few different deer trails before parting some cut brush to reveal a massive steel door, thick with rust. It had one of those wheel things you turned to open it, and he spun it to the left and tugged.
The door slid wide, making less sound than we did. Warren answered my raised eyebrow with a shrug, so not his doing.
Wherever we were, Warren felt safe enough to pull out a small flashlight and turn it on. A casual piece of technology; we used small torches, and following his lead we broke them out. I didn't exactly like it, but without some source of light we'd be totally blind; just past the door there was no other source but us.
I also broke out the chalk; standard procedure in dealing with potential mazes of tunnels. I spotted Alicia doing the same; there was no need for both of us to do it, and I normally did because I was the fastest to get armed. Well, that and Alicia hated chalk dust on her hands.
It wasn't that big a deal, really. She made her first mark, a stylized arrow leading in, which would hopefully show any signs of tampering, and on the opposite wall I made my own much more simple arrow.
"You know, the passages are all clearly marked," Warren commented idly, at full volume.
I answered in kind. "Better to have it and not need it, then need it and not have it. Sign posts have been tampered with before."
The signs were in German, judging from the first one, which seemed a little odd. The walls were thick gray concrete that was crumbling away from it's metal bones, and maybe had been for longer than Ivan had been alive. Certainly whatever war this place was a relic from had been a distant one. Which one I couldn't say, the Germans and French hated each other.
That had begun when people were still using sharpened sticks to fight, and witches were only legend or rumor.
Three lefts and two rights later, Warren stopped, shining his light on the first evidence we'd seen of why we were called.
It was a symbol for certain, something deliberately painted. They were even painted in blood, going by the smell. But that was where any similarity to the painting I normally saw in my job ended. This crap wasn't even anything like what I'd just read about.
For one thing, it was in French, not Latin, and while I didn't know every word, I knew enough. For another, it was painted poorly, on a wall, and the blood allowed to run. That was a really big no-no for this kind of thing. And lastly, it mentioned the "four elements" and "the God of between" when both were clearly wrong.
Ivan looked to me. "What do you think?"
"What do you think?" I returned.
"Looks bogus to me," Alicia told us, unasked. "Something like this would be worse than useless against a witch or familiar."
"I see," Warren said. Probably more to say anything at all. I kind of hated people who did that sort of thing.
"Yep, this thing is pretty much bad, or whoever painted it is dead somewhere. There is no way Suspira made this."
Warren paled. "Suspira?"
So he wasn't told. Oh well, operational security wasn't something I really cared about. "Suspira was listed as the likely suspect for this. I no longer think it likely."
"Well, there is more. It could be a new witch, just coming into her own."
"It could be," I replied as neutrally as possible. After all, I had some pretty good insight into the mind of a freshly minted witch. Far more than I was happy with, and this seemed nothing like any of it. "lead on, McDuff."
Warren gave me a stare before shrugging and moving on. What was his problem?
Another left, another right, and a gentle curve right and down led us to a large room, empty of everything but trash. Remains of old food containers, old boxes, and old bones sat side by side in the corners, while crudely made tables lined the center - inside a series of circles that were painted at least a bit more neatly than the first we saw.
Also in French, the same words and markings for the most part, designed to ward off nothing, or to protect nothing. Gray rushed ahead, collected some of the blood in a little tube and inserted that in some kind of machine.
"It's deer blood, Sasha."
Well, that pretty much ruled out witch, even a young one. Any real witch would use human blood, even if it was their own.
I made a point of inspected one circle closely. "This blood doesn't even look human. No witch made this."
"How can you tell, in this light?" Warren asked.
"Practice," I told him to cover my tracks. Everyone expected a hunter to be able to do things like this, and it occasionally came in handy to fake it. Not that they were wrong or anything, we were all pretty bad-ass.
Ivan and Alicia probably suspected the truth at least, but Warren was totally fooled.
"If not a witch, then who?"
"I don't know, but it's way too messy to do anything. If someone tried to use this, you'd have found the body. All I see here are deer and rodent bones, brushed off into the corners, which point to a likely source for the blood. Then there's the deer skull mounted in a place of honor on that northern wall. If it were a witch, that skull would be human; they don't usually off wildlife."
"Who then?" Warren asked, right on cue. "This is too fresh to be an old haunt for someone."
"Right, this has been painted over a few times, the last time was maybe weeks ago," I turned to Ivan. "What do you think, our turn again?"
Ivan nodded. There was always a group a year, usually stupid idiot kids that had nothing better to do and no one capable of teaching them anything. So they would form a group of witch groupies, hold seances and do other half-baked occult crap, and basically act like jackasses until they either got our attention - or the attention of an actual witch.
Usually in either case, such a discovery ended in blood and tears. We took a dim view of the phrase 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.'
Alicia sighed, her breath a breeze to make her beard wave. "Didn't we do it last time?"
"Nah, that was Jenkins, last year, in Austria. We dealt wit it two years ago now, in Spain."
Two years already? Where had the time gone?
"Is someone willing to let me in on the joke?" Warren asked, not quite glaring at me. Clearly he wanted me to do it.
"Every year or so, somewhere around the world, a group of idiots crops up. They aren't an actual group or anything, there's no structure and they don't know each other, but usually a group of idiots falls to the 'evil is so amazing, let's side with it' lure, you know, like some British do with vampires."
"Dear God, really?" Warren's surprise was pretty much the response everyone had when told that little gem.
"Really. The hunt doesn't really say anything because the one time you find something like this and expect morons, you'll get a witch, but it does happen. The culprits here are probably in your village. If we're lucky, they're just kids, but stupid adults exist too. The group we got ahold of in Spain were actual cultists, worshipping witches as gods."
I hadn't liked them much - and come to think of it, they hadn't liked me either. There was some irony in that.
"Well, that's a bit of a pisser."
I couldn't agree more. "Yeah. So, let's go find your gaggle of idiots."
"Wait, shouldn't we explore a bit more? Just in case this is all some witch, trying to pull fast one?"
I fought to keep my eyes from narrowing. And after I'd just explained to him that Central had kept such things under wraps, too. It was like he was waving a flag or something.
"Fine, let's search a bit more. It can't really hurt."
Warren led us around by the nose a bit longer, but of course the only thing we saw was more of the same.
The last straw was Warren trying to point out the same exact badly copied circle on a wall next to an old shattered cannon as the first one as evidence again.
"Nope, no witches here man, we've seen the whole place, or enough as makes no difference. So, about that town."
Warren sighed loudly enough to scare off the rats. "Right, fine. I was hoping you were wrong. Knowing that our kids - that my daughter could be - doing something like this is... well, I've had more fun days."
Good recovery. I might even believe it, at least for now. Warren started leading us back the way we came.
"So, is there a tunnel that leads further up, into town?"
"No, the entrance I led you too is the closest."
That sounded like more bs to me, but again, I let him. It was Ivan's call now, not mine.
We were led out with a good view of all our arrows, none of which had been tampered with. Back outside, the gentle climb became steep, and in some cases almost straight up. There was no trail or road here.
There was a wall, once we hit the village limits. A small wall, about as tall as I was, made of uneven stone piled up and glued together with some kind of mortar or cement. We worked our way around to the back entrance, which faced an almost sheer cliff. There was a trail, but it would be very hard for someone attacking the place to use it. Down was easier than up.
The village itself was like most we saw in our line of work; another postcard village with amazing scenery and very old houses that were always too small and drafty when you actually blew all of your money to come and got to see the inside of them. Another poor place that passed itself off as something more than it was.
The graveyard was much bigger than you'd expect for a village this size, even one as old as this one.
People were rushing around, enjoying the crisp cold air and sunshine, doing their random thing... which seemed to involve a lot of weaving wool. There wasn't even a single visible sheep.
We were met at the gate by a bent backed old man in a nice long coat. Next to him was a very proud member of the french wannabe hunter squad, all spit and polish on brass and gold. Neither were armed, and neither looked happy to see us stroll up.
"Good afternoon, noble Hunters," The old man said, bowing low. "I am Tollini, mayor of this village. I hope the day finds you well."
I hung back and let Ivan take the lead. "It does, honored elder, though our recent visit to your catacombs has burdened our hearts."
Ivan knew how to lay it on thick - but in this case it seemed to work; these two were lapping it up.
"How so? Does a foul witch plague us?"
No witch was going to plague the gathering or weaving of wool. It would be pointless to tell them that, however.
"No, the calamity which befalls you is far more insidious than a mere witch. It is a witch-cult. Those who would be servitors of a witch bound together in unholy acts done in their names."
I found myself mouthing the words behind a hand. 'The calamity which befall you'? What the heck?
The wannabe hunter sighed and slumped, while the old guy looked more concerned if anything.
"A witch-cult? But we've no missing, no dead."
Yeah, no more flowery speech. "It is our belief they are kids, led by kids. The circles investigated are drawn crudely in animal blood, and so far no infernal powers have been drawn upon. It might be that the cult itself is harmless, however there is always a chance that any such delvings could draw the wrong kind of attention. It's best for that reason to root out such things as soon as possible."
The french hunter was looking at me in a way I did not like; there were faint stirrings of recognition in it as his eyes flicked from my face to my chest to my guns and back again. I was pretty sure I hadn't seen him before.
The old guy mulled it over. "But how? I will not condone the hurting of my people; they have done nothing wrong."
Wow, for an old guy, this one was pretty innocent. If all the people here were like this, there could be a hundred witches here and none would be the wiser. The three of us that knew better shared a look.
"Well, one of the oldest of all hunter tricks could help us here," Alicia stated. "Startling the quail, so that one may see them."
"What do you need us to do?"
No hesitation at all. So innocent, so trusting.
"Call your village together. You have a square?"
The old guy nodded.
"Call everyone into it. Spare none, not even the infirm. We will help you if you wish." There was no way he would take us up on that offer, it was plain to all of us.
"And then...."
"We'll take over," Ivan told him. "Announce us as the hunt once all are assembled, and then do your best to look defeated. Follow our lead."
"It shall be done." The old guy announced, and turned back to his people.
Speaking of his people, the wary stares had already started. I moved a bit outside the gate, right past the ever curious Gray. As hoped, he got the message and followed me.
"Gray, can you use your scanner thing and help us out with this? Point out who is lying, and who isn't?"
I whispered just in case there were open ears about, but he heard me clearly.
"Of course, Sasha. You could do the same, with your visor. Measuring galvanic skin response, vision, and blink patterns is trivial."
"Maybe so, but I can't do it without being seen. You can. So I'm counting on you to catch anyone we miss, alright?"
Gray saluted. "Understood; no lies shall escape us."
"Thanks."
Gray gave me a weird look, then ran off - I guess to get ready. I stayed put, holding the old wall up, wondering why I said thanks to a space alien voice in my head.
I took a long pull off my lemonade. It was changing me, but how? And how much?
No, I refused to second guess. I was who I was, I did the things I did, I had done the things I had done. What was that word, where you dissected the past. Whatever it was, I wasn't falling for it.
Ivan came to get me. "All ready in the square. We could use an extra pair of eyes."
I knocked back another mouthful of lemon. "Sure."
Four sets were better than three.
The square was a bit further in, and had another wall, of all things, around it. This one was about three feet high, all piled loose stones with wooden framed gates inset in front of the houses and other buildings facing it. I don't think I'd ever seen the like before. Why would they need such a wall here? it didn't serve to keep anything out. Would it keep anything in?
The answer hit me as I looked into the sea of tense faces. Children; this is where they kept an eye on their kids to make sure they didn't wander off or get eaten by wolves or something.
The elder started as soon as I showed, shooting me nervous glance as I took a seat on the wall next to the main gate, my guns as obvious as I could make them without actually drawing.
"These visitors are Hunters," the crowd gasped loudly, as expected. One stout lady even fainted dead away. No one went to help her, so she was probably fine and this sort of thing happened all the time. "They have come to help us with a grave problem."
Ivan stepped up, ever the showman. "You have witches among you."
I took note of faces while the villagers all stared at Ivan with variations of shock. Gray was doing his thing, and Alicia was covering the back of the crowd.
"We are tasked with removing the evil and excising the taint." Ivan intoned, brandishing two of his knives.
There. That kid was calm, and looked just old enough to be a ringleader. Many of the other kids around him were shooting glances his way while trying not to look directly. While the rest of the peons looked at their neighbors in fear, many more were looking directly at him. Too many.
For the moment, I was ignored. Ivan continued.
"Those among you inflicted with this taint should step forward. Otherwise, we shall be forced to raze this town and salt the earth of this mountain."
The shock on all faces was pretty priceless. That was also my cue; I hopped off the wall and stepped forward, patting heads as I passed.
"As you are touched, move out of line, to the right. Over there."
The right was closest to the back entrance, and a very long fall if you missed the goat path. And there was the tension, ratcheted up another notch as people realized what we were about. That we didn't really care about things like due process or evidence.
It was typical (that word didn't seem to fit, but it was close enough) to have one not go when touched; when it happened, I simply drew and pointed at the kid's head.
"Step lively, and join your friends."
He stepped, as do the others I touched on my way by. Gray ad a few I missed; I added them in.
"The rest of you, to the left, over there."
Closest to the main entrance, and safety in their minds. Thus were mothers separated from sons and daughters, husbands and wives, and all that. Even if there weren't actually any adults in my group.
I did question Ivan about leaving me in charge of this part, but it was his call.
"Alicia, do you have the album?"
"I do Sasha."
The album was a small photo album, a few hundred glossy color photos, all of towns, villages, and cities that no longer existed in any meaningful way. I mean, there was rubble, but not much else, and rubble didn't really count. There were graveyards for some of them too I supposed.
"Take this, and pass it around. Each one is a photograph of a city, town, or village... just like this one. They all have one thing in common. They were all destroyed by witches... or by the hunt after witches took them over. I want you to pay special note to all the bodies, and how few escape death. Pay special attention to the names, you'll have heard of some of them. Either way, the towns and people in them end up just as dead."
My voice was authority, but not loud; I didn't want the adults to hear. Not that they would call me a liar if they did, but I didn't need the screaming match for what we were trying to do.
The kid they all looked to stayed calm. "The hunt won't last forever, or even survive much longer!"
Idiot. "You better hope we do. Half those villages, junior, killed directly by witches themselves, just for pissing them off by existing. Now we aren't here to debate; here is what's going to happen. We know you're all involved, and no we aren't telling you how. In a year's time, a hunter team will be back, and if we find any evidence of cult activity, we burn the place down, kill everyone here, and salt the earth. If you leave, we track, find, and kill you; there is no escape from us. We are the hunt.
Alicia will hand out a token. You will wear it, it will cleanse you of any taint if worn for the year. If you do not wear it, we will know. If you do not cease your activities, we will know. You will do as we request, or your people die. Do you understand?"
The tokens were more to save them, not their people. If people saw visible action being taken, some obvious sign f redemption, they would be less likely to lynch or otherwise kill these idiots once we left. It had been known to happen.
Alicia passed out the trinkets while I stood around looking stern. Everyone hurriedly put theirs on except the suspected ringleader kid.
"Put it on kid, or you'll be dead before sundown."
He paled, and muttered at me. "You're younger than me."
Ha. He probably was, physically. "Sure about that, are you? I wouldn't be too sure."
He put the token on; a small crow made of silver. Each team had their own token, to prevent counterfeits and any confusion.
Ours was a relic of my mentor; she liked crows. I'd worn one myself, way back when.
I singled one kid at random. "You, come with me."
He led the way out of the square, a young boy that couldn't be older than eight. "W-w-what do you want?"
"We know we got the ringleader, kid, and we know we got most of the players. What I want to know from you is, did we miss anyone? I have to ask, and I picked you. Don't bother lying."
"N-no, you didn't miss any of us. You kind of added a few. Look, we were just playing, we didn't mean anything by it! We...."
And here came the tears. At least he was telling the truth. Gray confirmed it. "Don't know, don't care. All the hunt cares about is killing witches and their sympathizers."
He gulped and nodded. "Go join your friends."
I could not wait until I knocked the dust of this town and it's people from my boots.
I took the opportunity to stare out over the view. It was a nice one.
"Sasha, your friends are waiting for you." Gray said.
Time to do the rest of it. "On my way."
The village was united again, some showing off their new jewelry nervously to the rest. I got here just in time for the last act.
"Those marked with the storm crow are to be protected," Ivan intoned loudly to the mayor. "If any harm befalls them before their time of penance, their souls will be lost for all eternity. Damnation will be swift to follow."
Translation for those less superstitious: we will know if you kill the ones tagged, and we will take steps, so don't. I couldn't really blame the superstitious, they didn't know about the aliens. Not even Central really knew, come to think of it. Well, I'd hinted at it to some, at least.
Ivan turned to the French wannabe hunter. "Patrol those catacombs. Make sure they decay in peace."
The guy nodded nervously. "It will be done."
Warren looked up. "I can do that."
It was my turn to shine. "No you can't. You'll be coming with us."
The shock in his face wasn't entirely genuine - he knew. "What?!?"
"You know why. Don't make things difficult, I'm annoyed enough at you already."
He took in where my hands were, and slumped. "I won't resist. Can I at least say goodbye to my daughter?"
"Nope!" Alicia replied with false cheer. "We're leaving now."
Wait, we could use this. "Sure, go ahead."
Ivan and Alicia both stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "I'll be coming with you while you do, of course."
He blew a breath, nodded, and set off.
His daughter was sporting a crow on her dark blue and white dress. She was about twelve and sporting pig tails in her dark hair, and just beginning to grow out as well as up. As usual, even for altitudes like this, she wore no hat. Gray gave her the once over and shook his head, so that was one question answered. Warren picked her up and hugged her close.
"Margaret, honey. Daddy's got to go away for awhile, with the hunters. Be a good girl for me while I'm gone, okay? Berty will take care of you, like we planned, alright?"
The tears weren't helping; the kid knew something was up. "I don't want you to go!"
Well, I could help. Kind of. I didn't think on it twice. "It's not his choice, kid. We've got questions for him, and he's got answers. You can ask the Hunt if you need more information."
I almost added more, but no, she would know who to look for when she got old and skilled enough. If she held a grudge, that is.
"Let's go, Warren."
He put his daughter down reluctantly, and gently pried her off when she held on, crying. A large woman stepped up to grab her, and Warren twisted his way back into the gathering crowd, He wasn't quick about it, which was good for him.
We were outside the village, down the main trail and away from the elder's judging gaze before he spoke again, almost too softly for even a trained hunter to hear.
"What gave me away?"
"You tried very hard to sell us on the witch angle back in the catacombs - to try and sell yourself as clueless. We were on to you, even then. However, what clinched it? You knew entirely too much about how the hunt dealt with cults to know so little about the rest."
He mulled that over while I mulled over the lesson. At least I think there was a lesson in the man's desire to protect his daughter outing him. Be damned if I could find it though.
My life was a series of backs. Back down another mountain, back to the train, back to Central... or back to some other random village when our train gets flagged down.
Flagging down a Hunt train was a risky business; we tended not to stop unless there was an obstruction on the tracks. The old portly man waving fireworks around frantically from the side would normally be very hard to see until it was time for the warning shots... or the closer shots.
But Ivan ordered the engineer to slow, as soon as we saw what was going on.
We weren't that far from the mountain, as the train moved. Surely we were still in France. It still looked like France - as if the very land itself was too arrogant, too consumed with being pretty and better than everything else, that it became annoying.
This old man didn't have arrogance on the mind, as far as I could tell. It was probably the blood spatters on his clothes distracting him. Or the burning fireworks that he was holding in his bare hands; those burns had to be painful.
He was also slightly too close to the tracks; our engineer managed to stop a few feet before the old man became wheel grease. Still, the way the brakes worked, I doubted he'd be able to hear us for awhile.
Still, the smoke in the distance spoke volumes. It was enough smoke for an entire town, not just a simple village, and even as we jumped off and the old guy started yammering in French, we all knew what he was trying to say.
No fire that large could be natural - not in these old and well tended lands.
Ivan and Alicia both turned back to get their generators and gear.
I didn't really have that problem; not when I didn't want to. "Gray, get my pack and meet me. I'll be going on ahead."
Gray nodded once, gravely. "Be careful Sasha."
I grinned. "Careful is my middle name."
Gray stopped and cocked his head. "No it isn't."
Sigh. "Gray, pack. now, please."
"Right."
The old guy was watching me now, his mouth open. When my eyes met his, he crossed himself. Well, I couldn't tell him he was wrong; that was a thing people did around witches, and I was one. I could argue I was on the side of angels, but only a fool would believe that.
Instead I just waved and set off. I could be fast when I wanted to be.
I could probably have waited and squeezed myself into one of Gray's saucers, but the image of being all cramped up in that thing with a witch taking pot shots at me was not a pleasant one.
Yep, that was a town in flames, complete with people fleeing from it. At least they weren't getting picked off as they ran. there was no place to hide; no safe approach to be unseen taking. The place was surrounded by pastoral fields and flatter than the pancakes I really wanted right now.
There were four large trails of smoke,. three of which were very black, and the fourth was more normal, like a house fire. Or judging from the size, a few houses. Or a block.
All told it looked like about half the town, instead of the entire thing, and the trail of destruction was spreading. Too bad I couldn't see who was causing it. I probably could if I put my visor on, but that came with it's own problems.
Namely that I wanted to end the bloodshed, not cause more from panic as everyone in my general vicinity stops and runs back into town away from me.
Ivan would be surprised I was thinking things through so clearly, and working the problem. He might even be impressed I hadn't drawn yet, but I didn't want to risk getting recognized; for some reason, not too many people were ever happy to see me.
The crowd was beginning to piss me off. It was hard to run to the source of the purple fire when everyone else was either trying to knock me down or grab me.
But again, I resisted pulling my guns. I was responsible and in control.
There was a wall, an old crumbly thing which was easily climbed when I finally reached it. No one bothered to maintain things anymore, not that walls did much against witches, really, but it was best to make them work for it.
It clearly didn't do much in this case, there were at least two large holes I could see in the wall from on top of it, and that was just one side. At least no one was going to try and knock me down here in a mad panic, now if I could just see over the buildings....
Oh, nevermind. No more buildings to interfere, just debris to dodge and plaster powder to choke on. And on the other side, the witch.
She wasn't anyone I recognized; there was no wanted poster; no file with her face on it back at Central. Her hair matched the fire she threw, but her eyes were blue. She was a little thin, a little lanky, and a little too edged to look strictly normal. Her hat was a stereotypical one, perched at an angle atop her head and bent just so.
She was smiling, the firelight reflecting off her perfect teeth as she watched people burn alive. Then her eyes met mine, and the grin widened.She floated up, making herself a perfect target.
"She told me that if I did this, the Hunt would show up - but I didn't expect you this quickly."
My first shot hit her right in the face, not that it was easy to tell, since the beam was wide enough to engulf her.
She sat up, smoking. "I actually felt that. You're strong."
"You survived. So are you. Care to tell me who told you to kill until the Hunt showed up?" Right, there were stronger shots I could take.
"Beat me and find out." Purple hair replied.
I shot her again. She tried to dodge, which was beyond amusing. How was a person going to dodge light? Even a witch?
"So, what did the Hunt offer you, traitor? All the grimoires you could steal? All the witch blood you could drink?"
Traitor? That was also amusing, considering witches were traitors to their species almost the minute they were born. Still, she got up again, so there was that.
"All the real traitors I could kill, actually."
This time flame met my shot, and stopped it entirely; how did that happen? Did this scums flame have substance or weight somehow?
So the flames flew everywhere, and my own shot shattered, and all that energy had to go somewhere. There were screams.
That was it, no matter the cost, she had to die here. I couldn't let her escape.
She blocked the next three shots the same way. It was some serious bullshit. "Gray, how is she doing this?"
"Her magic, of course." Gray deadpanned. "And by magic I mean the form her power has taken. Those flames are plasma, which carries a charge and...."
I could feel it; my eyes started to glaze.
"Nevermind, the how is not important," Gray continued. "What is important, is that you need more firepower in order to beat this enemy."
Alicia and Ivan still weren't in range, as far as I knew. "I'm open to suggestions."
"Use the fleet."
Gray had a point, each ship in the fleet had as much firepower as my guns. Any two had more firepower than my guns. Five all at once would be overkill. Wait, did five ships count as a fleet? That seemed too small to count. No, focus.
"Do it."
"Understood."
I ducked as flames flew, failing to do more than singe the air; I was protected from heat of all forms, and barely felt the air heat up.
I did feel the force that was my return fire however, as the first two saucers drove the witch into the ground like the hammer of an angry God. First came the targeting laser, then riding that wave down came the real danger, the full power coaxial combat laser. I wasn't sure what one of those was, but I couldn't deny the results.
Yet, the witch sat up, looking around for the source. "What the hell was that?"
I held up a hand. An empty hand, since I no longer needed my own guns for this. "Take a guess."
Those blue eyes narrowed. Then she jumped up from the crater I'd put her in and exploded.
Maybe I shouldn't have attacked so soon. It was my turn to pick myself up, and when I did I was staring a fire snake with legs in the face.
"Meet Jake, my fire salamander." Purple said.
"Pleased to meet you, Jake." I told him as he opened his mouth wide.
I still didn't need to draw. Gray slammed the familiar away from me, and pounded Purple back into the dirt. Both spewed more fire in response.
"Sasha, I need more time to charge up the main batteries, or more ships focused on one target. Can you distract the familiar please?"
"I don't think I need to," I told him. "He seems pretty focused on me already. Just shoot the witch, I'll be fine."
The lizard tried to make me a liar by eating me, but I managed to keep one step ahead; the rubble was my friend. In return I ate some fire, but my uniform was potent enough for me to ignore it when backed by my own power. Were we evenly matched, somehow?
Gray's next shot was a pretty definitive 'no.' I felt the drain, and began to feel the heat, and then the entire town vaporized in an instant. somehow I didn't get touched at all by the light, the blast, and any debris that survived the initial blast. Even the dust blew by without touching me.
I reached behind my back and brought out my visor. A simple scan revealed nothing. There were no life signs of any kind, witch or otherwise, in front of me. Not even a mouse or rat.
A patch of purple hair caught my scanning eye... and the smoking remains of a hat. There wasn't much left, it seemed. Of anything.
I'd been in this situation before, but I didn't have pockets to stick my hands in any more, and my whistling sounded weird. A life sign popped up, then another; somehow I was getting a reading of them even when both were behind me. They were... familiar. I let them approach.
"Sasha, you didn't."
I pointed slowly to the hat. "She did it. Well, most of it anyway, the town was well on it's way to frying before I got here, and when she saw me... well there wasn't any left for me to kill. Not that i wanted to! I'm fine; perfectly sane, here."
Alicia poked Ivan in the ribs. "Come on, this is Sasha we're talking about. This sort of thing is normal. don't pretend you didn't see what I saw."
Ivan holstered his knives and approached the hat. "I wasn't going to. But you have to admit, even for Sasha, the level of destruction is high. How many shots was this, Sasha?"
okay, they didn't see all of the fight, but they should have seen that much. "One - from Gray's saucers. All five of them, but just a single concentrated shot. She had some sort of shield above and beyond the normal which was blocking my guns with no problem. Also, she specifically set out to attack here to draw either a Hunt response or us. She said some words to that effect, and admitted she'd been given the idea by someone else. I'm willing to bet another witch."
Alicia kicked a piece of wood out of her way. "Perfect. Just perfect. It never just rains, does it?"
"Let them hunt us. It makes hunting them easier." Ivan said,. feeding the hat into his generator.
Something about the way he said it made me uneasy. "I don't know, Ivan. She was strong. Too strong; something is up, here."
He didn't dismiss it. "What are you thinking?"
I told him: "A witch that strong, she'd have pasted Riddle. She might even have been able to beat...her. So why haven't we heard of her before now? She was a new face, and purple hair is a dead giveaway. But I didn't know her, and she seemed new. So why was she so strong? the timing seems too good to me."
If I hadn't been here, if it had been any other team, this town would still be ash, and the team would be too. Instead I was here when she was here, or she was here because I was here, and I was able to easily take her down. Well, for a certain amount of easy.
Someone had told her to attack the town, and do it while our train was passing by. Someone was keeping close tabs on us, and had access to witches, even fresh witches, that had power enough to take on one of the four; you didn't just throw away power like that unless you had more of it.
"Don't worry about it," Ivan told me. "We can't do anything about it now."
"Yeah, worry about the town you just wiped off the map!" Alicia yelled out, already halfway down what used to be the main street.
I shrugged. "If I hadn't, the witch would have."
Ivan's eye turned to the small group of shell shocked people walking back into range. "We can offer some evidence to that effect, but...."
"You didn't see everything, I know." there would have been an inquiry before; there was no doubt of it now. My every action, every breath, was going to get taken apart like a body on a slab. I was pretty sure I knew how it would go too, even when everyone knew I didn't do anything different than before I gained my hat.
I should have waited, even if more were likely to die.
"You! What did you do!?!"
The old codger committee had gotten into shouting range. Joy. At least they were speaking English. The one who flagged us down was third from the front, trying to hide with his face down.
I looked to Ivan. Did he want me to answer? He shook his head and stepped up.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"You blew up the town!" The old codger screamed, finally ambling to a stop right in front of us, looking up at Ivan. At least that ploy worked, for now.
The one guy knew who had gotten here first, and I'm sure others had taken notice of the crazy person... girl headed to the attack rather than away from it. The natives would turn to me soon.
And my visor was still on. Whatever, it was too late to take it off now, and too much to hope for that the villagers wouldn't realize what it was.
"The witch blew up the town, after hunter Norre engaged her. Unless any here can gainsay her testimony."
The old codger looked at me and paled as I gave him the biggest grin I could manage. How had a guy like this survived? He probably was the first to cut and run. "Go ahead, call me a liar."
He had the nerve to point a bony finger at me. "But that's...!"
"Hunter Norre, the Marksman." Ivan finished for him.
The old guy's eyes rolled up in his head, and he fainted dead away. His posse scrambled to save his life.
"Elder!"
"Back up! Give him some air!"
"Someone get some water!"
Boring.
The old guy who flagged us down had something to say as I passed. "If I'd known, I'd have let you go by."
He wasn't even nursing his burned hands, which I could respect. The old guy could take some pain. "Then you'd all surely be dead. The witch came to kill; not harass, not play around - just to kill."
He eyed my guns. "The witch wasn't the only one, was she?"
No fool, this man. "Are we going to have a problem?"
"None today," he answered. "The hunt will hear from us as soon as the message can be sent."
"A success then; people are alive to complain. I could deliver it myself if you like."
"I'd prefer to have someone I trust do the job."
I shrugged; life was too short to get offended over who didn't trust you. "It was just an offer to speed up the process."
The old guy's teeth creaked, and blood dripped from between his lips. "Do you really think you're above the law? You're no better than the rest of them."
Okay, now that was something to challenge my calm. My own blood roared in my ears. "I'm not above the law, and I meant exactly what I said. Sometimes you have good luck, and sometimes you don't. Your town today got visited by a witch that was perfectly willing to burn it all down and kill everyone inside. You really think running would save you? It was a game to her, she was taking her time. She could fly.
You were all dead. Anyone in your town was dead. I acted not to save the dead, but to save future victims; if I hold back, if I let her escape, she just does it again somewhere else. So yes, people died. Probably great, if unlucky people. But because those people died, another thousand or so the next town over won't."
That actually gave the old man pause - for a bit. "Who are you, to decide such things?"
"I'm a hunter. The hard choice is what we do." Hmm, my cheeks were wet. Was my visor causing me to sweat or something? Had I gotten hit and not noticed?
The old guy backed off without another word. That was fine, I didn't want to deal with his bull. Unless or until Ivan triggered his remote, my place was as far away from here as possible. But I couldn't go back to the train, the mob could turn ugly and my team would be forced to defend themselves; it had happened before.
I didn't want them dying for something they didn't even do. That also had happened before.
There was a hill in my visor's range. At least when combined with one of Gray's saucers. I wasn't sure how that worked, but with one of gray's ships in the air, I could see around hills and towns and had a better range for all of it.
So I took a bit of cover behind an old shack, put my back into holding the wall up, and waited. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.
Gray amused me by flying interesting patterns with his ships, extending my range even further while I most pointedly did not look at the time spent.
Ivan found me first. "Ready for a beer? I know I am."
If any time was beer time, it was now. That went without saying. "How bad is it?"
"Morocco bad. Maybe a bit worse."
I winced. Well, if I got kicked out of France it wouldn't be all bad; after all I wouldn't have to go back to France. Silver linings, and all that.
"Don't worry about it," Alicia told me. "Nothing's going to happen. Just a bunch of peasants speaking out of grief."
That didn't mean nothing was going to happen, but at least Alicia was making the effort.
I was more worried about next time; and there would be a next time.
The train was right where we left it and none the worse for wear. I entered first, trying and failing to resist scratching my neck. I was beginning to think I was developing one of those weird habits or giveaways I always used to laugh at other people for, like Dustin's fondling of his stick when he's trying to act confident.
I beat them both to the bar, but this time they followed me in. I grabbed the first thing in front of me right as Gray walked in, and downed it.
Gray surprised me by climbing onto a stool himself and grabbing the nearest liquid in his range; he downed it like a champion.
If my other two drinking companions noticed Gray's lapse, they didn't say anything.
Another back. This time, back to Central, and the front desk where Sarah was waiting.
"Welcome back, Sasha."
I tried to hide my surprise at being singled out first. I wasn't in charge of the team any more, after all. "Thank you, Sarah."
Then she looked to me, which was awkward. "Ivan has our report."
"Oh, of course."
I took a seat on an empty lobby bench and waited for it. I didn't have to wait long.
"Sasha, my office." Gloom said from the base of the stairs.
He didn't wait to escort me, but he didn't really need to. I didn't even dare to take my time; not now.
I didn't bother to knock, and he didn't bother to start how I expected. "We got some good intel off that guy you sent ahead. That was a good call."
Confusing. "I wasn't alone in that, we all made that guy. What intel did you get?"
he gave me a look for a second, then continued. "He worked for none other than killer Cat, and has for some time. He managed or started several sympathizer cells across three different countries, each feeding her information on where our operations were, and even intel on witches too. She's been keeping tabs on everyone for years, and no one knew."
"And the cell?"
"Not one of his, ironically enough. Of all the ways to get caught. He was going to work on one there, but contacted the wrong kid and things spiraled out of control, according to him."
I could believe that. Run with crazies and sooner or later you find one you can't control. "When's the execution?"
Traitors to their race got hanged by the neck until dead, and their wasn't a more clear case for the punishment in my memory.
"Not for some time yet. We still need to know what he knows. It might not be much, but we need it. He met with Cat directly, at least once."
That was... surprising. Why would Cat meet with that guy in person? He was smitten, sure, a true chaser, but why risk the word getting out? Everyone had assumed Cat was dead or in hiding, not active. If the Hunt had gotten word she was starting spy cells before....
Could impressing an already loyal follower be worth the risk of exposure? What did she care of exposure, really? Why was I assuming she did care? Maybe she just hadn't bothered before. The rumors of a witch on the side of the Hunt however, could have drawn her out.
But if so, how had she heard those rumors so quickly? She would have needed to start almost before I woke up in a dress that day.
Something about that felt wrong to me; it was just too fast.
Gloom moved a little, drawing my eyes. "Good, you're seeing it too. The possibility of a mole in the Hunt exists, and the timing couldn't be worse for us."
Damn politics.
"So what's the plan?" Gloom always had a plan.
"No plan, other than find out what he knows and why." Except when he didn't.
"Well, whatever. That's your show. What do you need me to do?"
Gloom looked up, his eyes like shards of glass. "Maintain a low profile."
Oh, so that's where this was going. "I..."
"What happened at Mulino?"
"Was that the name of the place?" Great, that was great; let's just get all of the most stupid things I could say out of the way first.
Glooms frown deepened, and shadows started to dance along the walls. "What. Happened."
"The engineer brought to our attention an old man, flagging us down. Ivan told him to stop, so he did."
I wasn't actually sure any of us told the engineer to stop, but no sense getting him in trouble, and I wasn't there for the entire time so it could have happened.
"Once we were stopped the old guy gibbered French at us and pointed, and we noticed the smoke. Ivan and Alicia went back to get their generators, and I went ahead with Gray."
Gloom opened his mouth, but stopped when I held up a hand. "Let me finish before you start telling me how stupid I am, please."
Would wonders never cease.
"Anyway, so we went on ahead. When we got there, I saw the town basically in flames, and the witch in the open, roasting people and having a grand old time. So of course, I got close enough and took my shot, which somehow she just shrugged off. Then she fired something at me, some purple beam, and knocked me around a bit. We traded blows for a time, and she said words to the effect of: 'she was right, if I did this she said the hunt would appear and it has.' and she also accused me of being a traitor."
Gloom wanted to talk, I could tell, but he stayed silent.
"We traded more blows for a minute, I shot her familiar some, and Gray suggested he could end the stalemate I was facing. So he gathered up all his ships or whatever you want to call them, and fired. The witch fired too at the same time. Between the witch and Gray and me we pretty much destroyed the town. But the people?"
I didn't say it, I could tell Gloom knew; those people that had died were as good as dead anyway.
"You should have waited for your team, Sasha." Gloom whispered, almost too quiet for me to hear.
"Yeah I should have, but you know me." I wasn't really capable of standing around twiddling my thumbs while people died to a witch less than a mile from me.
"So... Gray. With all his little ships, how strong is he?"
I guess I shouldn't be surprised. "Strong enough. With his full fleet, Gray can probably remove any town you want gone in seconds, and any city in minutes."
There would be no secrets between us. Not any of that kind, anyway.
Gloom slumped back in his chair and the shadows stopped dancing. "I see. As strong as your mother?"
I thought about it. I was possibly stronger. "Maybe."
Another moment of silence; Gloom could probably tell what I was thinking. "Let's not find out, okay? No going after Olivia for now. Killer Cat is more than bad enough."
But Olivia was easier than...!
"When the time comes, I'm going to need your help with Cat."
What? "But you're the Gloom! Witches all around the world run from you!"
Gloom shook his head. "Cat doesn't. the only one who could make her back down was the first marksman. She laughed at me, when we last met."
My mentor. "What did she do different?"
Gloom looked back, away from the past, and deadpanned. "She shot her, of course. She used the gun."
The gun was a rifle. A remade Winchester 30-06. It had vanished after she had died, or I'd be using it. With it, she had been unbeatable. I'd always been better at close quarters, anyway.
"The point is, we need you, Sasha. So try not to get yourself killed by angry mobs before then; alright? keep your head, and try not to do anything rash. I don't want to be forced into... unpleasant steps."
Gloom being reasonable? Gloom explaining things, while staring directly into my eyes, without anger? My heart skipping a beat for no reason whatsoever?
Weird. "Got to ask then; would you have done anything differently?"
He didn't answer. "Go ahead and get some rest. You'll need it."
With a shrug I headed back out.
Good news, I didn't need to check my generator back in. Or ask for my share in a hat. Even checking my guns in would be useless, if I ever bothered to do that anyway. Without the need to file paperwork, I could go right to my room and sleep a week!
Silver linings.I didn't have many, but there were a few.
Gray had beaten me back to my room; the little jerk. I didn't see him there, taking the heat from Gloom. Instead he was standing on my chair, using my pencil and paper to write stuff on my desk.
Whatever; I flopped on my bed, arms spread. What had that been, back in gloom's office? Did I have health problems now? I was too young for health problems. Gray would know.
"Gray, do I have any health problems?"
"No, you are perfectly healthy. There were some genetic anomalies which could lead to dementia later on in your life, but those have been purged in your transformation."
Some might argue differently. "Good to know."
"Why do you ask?" Gray asked.
"No reason. I just had a random thought. Those happen, sometimes."
"How rare are they?"
Now what was that supposed to mean? "Was that a crack at my intelligence?"
"Not at all." It was more of a 'crack' at your creativity."
Well, that's better... wait, no it isn't. "I'll have you know I'm plenty creative."
"No you aren't. Your only response to a situation is to shoot it."
Was that all? "Why mess with what works? You're going to second guess me too, now?"
Gray turned, his face serious. "No Sasha, this isn't about the town. But you need to start using different tactics, or the next time you meet a witch like that one could be your last. Then who will save humanity?"
Saving humanity was too much. The Gloom could do it, I'd just focus on killing witches.
"What are you writing?"
"The commands to engage your cloaking device."
Wait, I had a cloaking device? Did I need cloaks? Those only seemed to get in the way of my draw; even capes were better.
"Is that some sort of portable cabinet or something?" Gray was always trying to get me to dress stupid, so it was no surprise.
It was a surprise to Gray though: "What? No! It makes you invisible. It's basically a spell to make you invisible, so you won't be seen and can sneak up on people. With luck you can use it to actually take prisoners or save lives, rather than just shoot everyone."
"Right, well good luck with that."
Gray huffed at me. "You can be quiet when you want to be. I've seen your memories."
"Most of my targets have extra senses."
"You do too, now. If you put a little effort in, you can figure out what the limits of those senses are, and how to bypass them. The cloaking device is just the first step in that."
I rolled over, away from him. "Sounds too much like work. Wake me when you're done... or for the next war."
"Fine," Gray huffed. "I'll do all the work."
"Sounds good."
......
"Well?" Plague asked, crossing her legs ostentatiously as she leaned back in her chair. "you have such great chairs in your office, Gloom."
"She didn't do things right, but she did things right for her. I can't find a fault." Gloom replied, leaning back in his own chair.
"So I did right?" Alicia asked, arms crossed as she stood very straight.
"Yes, there was no need to blow her collar. She's not out of control; at least this time."
"Good," Alicia said, holding up the little button. "I don't like this thing, you know."
"I know, but Ivan's too obvious. He might not even push the button."
"Oh, he'd push it, no problems." Alicia disagreed, stowing the button back into her belt.
"If you want, I can take it and shadow you guys again," Plague offered.
"Nah, that's fine. I got it; no one else is going to blow the little pipsqueak's head off but me."
Plague shrugged. "If you want."
"Either way, let's just ease off a bit," Gloom stated, head lolling back. "Tell Ivan the team has a few days Alicia, alright?"
"Alright," Alicia agreed, and all but bounced out the door.
Plague waited for her steps to ease before turning back to Gloom. "There are plenty of assignments . Why do you want them close? Worried?"
Gloom shook. "No, just a gut feeling."
Plague flipped one of her vials, catching it. "Well if it's one thing us Hunters should do, it's trust our gut. Many don't do it nearly often enough."
"Right, well there is still the matter of the interrogation to deal with. Do you want to assist?"
"Sure, I thought you'd never ask."
......
Ivan slid in behind as Alicia reached the bottom of the stairs. "Well?"
"No badness today."
"Good. The little one is safely in bed."
Alicia's jaw hit the floor. "At three in the afternoon? Was booze involved?"
"Nope. She just went upstairs and conked out."
"Weird, is her endurance going?"
Ivan shrugged, snagging a glass of water from the lobby desk. "I think it's just all finally catching up to her. Maybe being able to wipe out a city in a few seconds has some down sides."
"Probably it does," Alicia admitted before her faint grin slid off her face. "i think there's more going on here."
Ivan nodded absently. "I'm sure of it. I'd love to get ahold of the little freak and pump it for information, but no one has seen it since the... experiment. Or no one who admits it anyway. I think there is a hole somewhere we don't know about."
"There would almost have to be, since we never saw him before." Alicia mused. "Oh well, a dish best served cold and all that."
"Well, then I know what time it is."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yep! Time to get drunk without the midget fouling it up."
"I can work with that." Alicia admitted with a grin.
......
There was noise. Lots of noise. I wasn't even hung over, and people were waking me up. Was there a fight going on or something? A duel? I was going to stomp some people into the ground.
I rolled out of bed into a crouch; Gray had my pistols in hand, grips held out to me. "I believe this is no ordinary violence among your kind."
Another loud crack and a deep rumble, and the building shook. Someone was playing pretty rough out there. "You might be right."
But then what was going on? There was no way....
An explosion, very close, and I hit the staircase before I knew I was moving.
Another explosion, and I was showered with dust as the ceiling above me cracked. Who would be stupid enough to....?
The ceiling shattered and I spun through a dodge to avoid the pieces. "Gray."
"Already assembling them."
Good.
The lobby was empty, and this close the sounds of battle were obvious. The explosions and screaming all painted a grim picture; but who would be insane enough?
I made my way through the doors, and the answer was made clear; there, crouched on the wall like a gargoyle in a dress, was a witch.
I didn't recognize her; she had short curly brown hair topped by a beret, her clothes were some sort of tan dress that looked almost like a uniform, and she was almost as large as Alicia. she was better built than Alicia - her biceps were as large as my head. beside her, propped up on the wall, was a truly large club that looked to be made of stone.
I knew she was a witch because I could feel the power she had; I could tell she felt the same.
She grinned. "About time! I've been knocking forever! Do all hunter witches sleep so soundly?"
Well there was only one of me, so... "Yes. And you are?"
She slapped her forehead dramatically and rose up. And up. And up some more. "Right, how silly of me. I'm Shale, and you are Sasha Norre. Pleased to meet you."
An explosion to my right was close enough for the wind created to ruffle my clothes and force me to taste my hair. "Wish I could say the same. Why didn't you just walk in? The lobby is open. Care to tell me where our friends are?"
"Well the lobby didn't look that inviting to me," So she knew about the countermeasures, or at least suspected. "So I settled on knocking, since we didn't see you. As for friends, our friends? don't you mean mine?"
"Mine are probably fighting yours." Was she that stupid? Well, i already knew the answer to that one.
"Good point. Well, some are that way, and some are that way," she pointed left and right; then at herself. "But before you get ahead of yourself, you get to play with me."
"Well, I play rough. I tend to break my toys."
Shale grinned. "I know, it's why I volunteered to find you; so do I."
Right. I drew and struck first, but the wall Shale was standing on came up to block me. Of course, she did things with stone, so of course she could block the worst of it.
"Volunteered to who? Who are you working for?"
I dodged shards of stone suddenly intent in ripping through my more tender parts; great, so she could animate shrapnel I created. "Wouldn't you like to know? Beat me and find out."
The second shot drove her off the wall, and the third shot slapped stone into her face. She took it in stride, and I ate some stone chips to my own face. I didn't feel it, much.
Shale got up, none the worse for wear; what was it with these witches lately? I went years without seeing witches this tough, other than a few. Now I was seeing one every other day. Did they have a witch store or something, where they just picked them up in bulk?
"I'm ready Sasha."
"Let me try first Gray, no sense going straight to you." There were still people alive near, I knew. My visor was showing them to me; when had that gotten on my head? I didn't have it when I hit the door, did I?
Whatever, it was here now and showing life signs; faint signals but obviously human ones, going by the shape. If Gray cut loose here, it would not be pretty.
But there was more than one way to handle stone walls. I had two guns after all, and one shot put a hole in stone no matter how I shot it.
So when she raised her next wall, I drew my other gun and put two beams in the air, one right after the other. The first tagged her just through the stone, and the second put her down.
"Ow. Darn, you really hurt, girl! Well I was only told to wake you up, not fight you, so.. see ya!"
She melded into the ground and took off like a gopher; I could just make out the bulge in the road as she took off.
"Hey, get back here! Gray, track her."
"Understood," Gray said.
Somehow, the witch managed to make herself heard from underground. "You'll never catch me, runt!"
Runt? RUNT?!? A shot ahead of her made her change course with a yelp. How had she even seen to dodge that? "When I catch you, your fate will be a warning to all other witches on the cost of pissing me off."
"Sure thing, runt!"
She wasn't particularly fast, so keeping up was easy. Each time I thought I had a shot though, the stone of the road rose up to take the beam; even double shots didn't get to her. Normal shots anyway; Gloom's words about keeping things small and using my head were front and center in my mind.
Actually coming up with an idea for how to deal with a human mole was something I was drawing a blank on. Really it was fine - she thought she was leading me into a trap, but she was leading me where I wanted to go.
Where I wanted to go turned out to be the next building over; it was a four story about a half a mile from Central's large dome. An state office of some kind, bland and filled with bureaucrats. She went inside and a flood of people ran out, screaming. Curious, really. Following her in I detected no bodies and no life signs fading out; she hadn't even wounded people as she passed.
Very unusual behavior in a witch. Even I had to fight the temptation to maul the paper pushers. Or maybe it was just my hatred of paper pushers.
The human mole went up the stairs. sliding up dirt somehow. Yeah, enough of this; I wasn't slipping in that gravel anymore and the skies were my terrain. With a thought I lifted off and floated up the stairs. Rocketed up, as Gray insisted on thinking of it. I didn't get whatever he meant.
Concrete also counted as stone it seemed, but a few low power blasts ahead of me managed to clear the worst of it; I was gaining and the mole didn't seem to like that much.
The forest of concrete spikes was an unwelcome surprise, but it didn't slow me down much and none of them drew blood.
The mole did manage to get to the roof before me however, and I burst through just in time to see her swan dive off the top. She caught a rope grappled to the side and started sliding along it - when I shot the grapple, she swooped with a wild scream and slammed into the next building over.
There were people on the next building over, clearly battling. Flashes of light lit up moving clouds of darkness, and the wind carried green gas into both. I couldn't see who Gloom and Plague were fighting, but whoever it was had to still be alive, so they must be strong. The mole could tip that balance. It wasn't likely, but it could happen.
Another shot and she had no rope to climb up, but of course the building was concrete so it didn't actually matter.
Not to be outdone I had Gray pick me up; if she could climb faster than Gray could climb, she deserved the shot at Gloom. The streets were full - not of screaming civilians, but of hunters fighting witches in some sort of full-on battle. The hunters were outnumbered from what I saw.
"Gray."
"Right." Two of the fleet peeled off to even the odds as I raced the annoyance to the main fight.
Turns out the mole couldn't climb fast enough.
Turns out the one Gloom was fighting was none other than Killer Cat.
The mole, rather than take a shot, flowed into Cat as she cut loose with another light show. she just melted into the thing that looked like a little girl. What?
Cat turned to look right at me, through the darkness Gloom was currently trying to strangle her with. "Ah good, you're awake. That makes this much easier."
A slight gesture, just a tensing of a muscle, and we were both somewhere else; a forest, that didn't look like any forest I'd ever seen before - mainly because the leaves were all dark green or bright yellow, and it was clearly summer here. Wherever here was.
There was a castle in the distance' white stone gleaming in the very orange sun. But closer and more important was Cat herself, seated on a tree branch at the top of the hill, her mole friend sliding out of her like some kind of fleshy sweat.
"Hello and good morning, Sasha. We can talk freely here."
"Gloom? Plague?"
"Both fine, dealing with another me. They shouldn't die. They may not even get hurt, but it's hard to judge these things anymore," she pointed to my pistols. "You won't need those; you can holster them."
I did. Even Cat couldn't stop me from drawing if I wanted to; I was sure of that. Cat could make other hers, apparently; this was good to know, if she wasn't yanking my chain.
"So where is my man?" Cat asked, casually.
"Your man?" Oh this might be bad.
"The one you took into custody."
Yep, it was bad. "Truthfully i don't know. I'd imagine one of the holding cells, but I didn't personally bring your spy in, just find him, so I can't be sure."
Just what was it this guy had on Killer Cat that got this kind of response? Even for her, attacking Central was crazy, and doing it alone....
Cat sighed. "Dead, then. I had hoped to get here in time. And yes, I know what you were doing; congratulations; beating one of mine, especially that one, is not an easy feat. So much raw potential, so much devastating firepower."
She faded out of the tree and put an arm around me, right at my back. "I have to admit I see a young me in you, Sasha. Care to join forces? We could take on the world together, you and I."
She managed to get a hand on my arm as I was drawing. "Is that a no then? I'm not your enemy, Sasha. In fact I never was. I'm not even the enemy of humanity everyone makes me out to be."
"Prove it."
Cat made a show of thinking about it. "Hard to do; will the simple fact that neither you nor your friends are dead yet do?"
I had to admit she had a point. "Fair enough. Just how many witches are in your employ, if you don't mind me asking?"
As powerful as she was, she didn't stand a chance alone; one of the other witches would have bumped her off by now.
"You answered my question, so it's only fair I answer yours," She told me with a grin. "Not a single witch is in my employ or partnered with me. You'd be the first in... well, many years. Let's just leave it at that. You see, when I say 'mine' I don't mean the witch... I mean the demon a witch used to be allies with. You call them familiars, now I believe. I collect them, you see."
I was no sailor, but I knew a sinking feeling when I felt it. She'd been at this game for years... either taking familiars from live or dead witches. She was kind of like the French witch, only she probably had hundreds.
"Can you... see Gray? Take Gray?"
Cat paused. "Is that his name? I can certainly see him, but I wouldn't dream of taking him, Sasha. I like you, and witches who lose their demon are never the same afterward; you know this better than most."
That was a yes then.
"Sasha...."
"Relax Gray, no harm in asking." I said that, but the part that wanted Gray gone was surprisingly small. He was there always, my best buddy, one I could trust like no other. To have him suddenly vanish would be painful.
I turned back to Cat. Her wide grin pissed me off. "So what's your plan? Not saying I'll join you, but I'll hear you out."
Her grin widened, and her answer surprised me. "My plan is the same as yours, I'm betting. I'm planning to save humanity."
Saving humanity by killing witches; how was that any different than what I was doing? Cat was asking me to stay the course, wasn't she?
So why did I hesitate?
"I don't think it's a good idea for us to join forces; sorry."
I had my gun in line, but Cat ignored it. With a shrug, she told me, "Well, an uninformed decision is no decision at all. How about you take a look around, see my operation, and then decide?"
Cat was letting me walk? The castle was more than just some kind of prop?
Shale bowed. "I will escort her mistress."
"Full access, Shale. She can see everything she wants to. See that she comes to no harm here."
"It shall be done."
I had to ask. "What happens if I shoot her?"
Cat turned to me. "She will run again, and you'll be on your own here. You'll probably survive to go home, but I can't guarantee it. If you manage to kill her... well I'll be cross."
Right; cross. I hadn't yet, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to see Cat cross. I holstered up.
"Fine. Where are you going?" If someone else was going to escort me, it was a given that Cat herself was leaving, and I'd be unlikely - or not allowed- to follow.
"Back to discuss a few things with your friends. Don't worry, I won't hurt them. I told you I wouldn't, didn't I?"
Oddly enough, the word of a witch actually did make me feel a bit better. After all, it wasn't as if she couldn't have killed most of them before. Maybe even Gloom, if he was alone. Despite his assurances on Cat's strength, I still thought he could pull a win at least. If he couldn't we were in trouble.
Cat vanished with a soft pop, and Shale turned to me. "I await your pleasure."
I took some comfort in how nervous she was. "My pleasure?"
"I am not to guide you, only escort you. You may go where you wish."
I guess that made sense. "I want to go to the castle, then."
Anything that I needed to know, I'd likely learn it there. If Cat really did sleep there, like I thought.
"The path will lead you right to it." Shale responded, pointing to the right-most path that appeared to lead away from the place.
"Where does the left lead?"
"To a lake," Shale responded. "It is a tranquil place, but rife with... wildlife, shall we say."
And didn't that sound ominous. "Dangerous?"
"To you, perhaps. It is hard to say. I am never molested there."
That sounded a bit like frustration to me.
With a shrug I started down the indicated path; there was no reason to really fear; if Cat wanted to she could have just left me here with no guide. She still might just leave me here, but my best chance of a way out lay in going forward in some direction, might as well be this one. At least Gray was with me, staying silent and playing possum, hopefully forgotten.
Well, he was moving, walking behind us, but that wasn't the point.
More importantly, his fleet was also following us. Cat hadn't been concerned, even though she could probably see them. I was pretty sure I could reduce that castle of hers to sand if I wanted, but if Cat was willing to leave me here, she wouldn't be happy if I wrecked her house - I really didn't want to be left here, wherever here was.
The feeling only intensified when I started spotting the wildlife. Not at all timid, no fear of humans, and everything just slightly off, the deer had golden fur too. We stared at each other a moment before it took berries from a bush next to me and moved on placidly.
I resisted the urge to shoot it, and it was harder to do that than expected. Something about a lack of healthy fear annoyed me. And that squirrel just looked all kinds of wrong.
A fork in the trail, and Shale took the right.
"Where does the left lead to?"
"A caterpillar ingesting hallucinogens. My master is a fan of the classics."
"Right." I had no idea what she was talking about, but it sounded awful.
Down the path we went; the sounds of the various creatures that were either just ignoring us or shadowing us made my hands itch.
"Don't worry little one, they are harmless."
Says her. "I've seen squirrels go feral and kill people before - nothing is harmless."
Shale turned and gave me a look. "Point taken. Would you settle for 'so unlikely to hurt you that you don't need to spray them all over the forest'?"
I nodded. I could be reasonable.
"So, who's the newbie?" A voice asked cheerily from way too close.
I could be reasonable, I didn't actually fire.
A girl was behind me, small and blonde with pigtails and a summer dress that looked old. She held a small tattered cloth doll, it's little hand in hers. She was cute, and floating several feet off the ground, and didn't seem concerned to find a gun at her nose. She reminded me of Ana.
"A little jumpy, huh? That's okay."
"I'm the marksman. And you are?"
She grinned, mouthing my code name as if tasting it. "Oh sorry, I was rude, wasn't I? They call me ghost."
Shale sighed. "What are you doing out here, Ghost? You're supposed to be home. Cat told you that herself before we left."
The newly minted 'Ghost' stamped her foot in the air as if it was solid. Hm, she wasn't wearing shoes - I expected those little leather ones, polished to a mirror shine. "But home is boring! Everyone there just sits around, and no one wants to play! At least the caterpillar is fun!"
Oh wow, kid on hallucinogens... I was more than a little tempted to set that up, but knowing my luck I'd just end up babysitting the little scamp.
I pointed. "Yeah, I'm told the insect is that way. If you hurry, you might still catch him."
Ghost looked at me, wide eyed. "Oh no, I can't go see him now. You're much more interesting."
I was afraid she'd say that.
"So Shale, who is our guest?"
Shale looked as annoyed as I felt. "She told you. What you're really asking is why she's here, and that's simple. The boss is interested in her."
Ghost winced dramatically. "Oh, wow, sucks to be you. We're all here because she got interested in us."
"No," Shale corrected with a shake of her head. "Not her partner. In her."
Ghost gave me a once-over. "Really? In a witch this time? I'm not sure if that's better or worse."
Truth told, neither was I. Just how many familiars had Cat collected, over the years? I could applaud the dead witches, but the sheer amount of power represented....
"How many of you are there?"
Ghost, true to who I thought she was after only five minutes, answered without thinking. "Oh, hundreds, I think. It is hard to count us all most of the time, since we come and go."
Shale gave her a sharp look, which she shrugged off with a "What?"
Shale sighed again. "Nothing."
I was pondering being surrounded by hundreds of potentially hostile familiars. I was strong, sure. But was I strong enough for that?
Gray had much to answer for by teaching me all this 'caution' crap.I couldn't help but think that if I managed to kill a bunch of these, I'd really hurt Cat. Not for long probably, but perhaps for long enough. If only I didn't want to know what her game was.
Maybe I'd be able to figure out how to get back here on my own a little later. I didn't think Cat would overlook that detail, but if she did....
"So what are you thinking about?"
Well I saw no reason to lie. "How to gleefully murder you all."
Ghost hummed. "I can see why Cat likes you, that sounds like fun! Can I help?"
"Don't tell the girl our weaknesses, ghost. She really doesn't need the help."
ghost goggled at Shale. "Really?"
"Really. She's that strong. She almost killed me four times in as many minutes."
Ghost was not impressed. "Yeah, but you suck."
"I'm tougher than you, squirt," was the calm response.
"How can you say that when you can't even touch me?" ghost asked with a smirk.
This had the feel of routine. I'd better say something or we'll be here all day. "Girls, girls, you're both pretty. Can we move along now?"
I got two glares and one loud sniff, but Shale started off again.
"Now, we're going to reach a clearing. I'd advise you not to stare, or stop. Well, unless you want a fight that you'll probably lose."
Pft, as if. I don't lose. Much. "What against?"
Shale waved the question off. "I wouldn't dream of spoiling the surprise."
A brace of woods not long after led into a glade straight from a picture, or an old movie. Surrounded on all sides by vines that looked like something Maze would have cooked up, the field was bright, sunny, and had a gentle roll to it. The grass was knee high and slightly more yellow than it should have been back home, and the flowers were reds blues and yellows so bright they were almost painful to look at. I could even smell them from here, not that I knew what they were. They smelled nice.
And in the center, frolicking in the sun, actually frolicking if ever I'd seen it - was the largest rabbit I'd ever seen.
It had stark white fur and was staring at a small watch... while it nibbled on a skull. There was blood splattered all over it's red coat. Thankfully the skull wasn't human; one of the deer things, maybe. The top hat on it's head had a hole in it, and was lopsided.
I really wanted to say something... but I also didn't want to gain that thing's attention. The two noticed I'd stopped and turned back.
"Come on you wuss, it's only a bunny."
"Bunny's aren't meat eaters."
The big guy heard me; his ears twitched my way and he turned around. "YOU'RE LATE!"
His voice sounded kind of like a train's whistle if you hit it with a hammer first, and oh my he was fast.
Shale managed to get in gront of me, arms wide, just as I was about to fire. She was facing away from me. "No! She's a guest, not food!"
The rabbit wasn't wearing any pants and was very much a male. I really, really wanted to shoot now. His abrupt stop didn't help matters, nor did the spray of blood out of his mouth as he spoke again. At least it hit Shale and not me.
"A... guest? One that isn't late for lunch?"
"Yes, an honored guest." Shale replied, arms still out and sounding cautious.
The rabbit scuffed a foot against the grass. "Aww, shucks. I'm still hungry, and it's almost tea time."
"I think I saw a Diffyr that way," Ghost said from right next to my ear, and an arm pointed to the right."
In a blink the rabbit was gone. "Thank you kind Ghost, I'll be sure to share!"
This close I heard Ghost's muttered response of: "Please don't."
This called for a drink... but I didn't have one, so I'd have to make do with a joke. "Well, he seemed nice."
Shale turned back and gave me a look, before letting her hands fall. "Sorry, I couldn't let you kill him. Cat likes him, for some reason. I think it's the watch."
Was that a counter joke? There was something here I was meant to understand, but I didn't get whatever it was. I wasn't sure whether to hope it was or wasn't.
"I might like him more if he wore pants." Not like him, but like him more; it was a fine line.
"I know, right?" Ghost sympathized with a shudder.
Not sure how i felt about being on the same page as a crazy witch's familiar either.
"Right, well let's just go before he comes back."
Shale raised a good point there. "Lead on, you know this place."
"Right." She led us out to the trail on the other side. The forest looked dark and spooky on the other side. A little too spooky - as if it was actively trying to scare. Shale proved that to be a bluff by plunging right on in, and I followed;n I wasn't the type to get scared easily. A glance behind me showed Ghost still following, and gray behind all of us, his ship prepped for judgement.
I could feel the four ships just like his, flying overwatch. ?With his guidance, I could torch this forest in less time that it took to think about it.
The trees seemed to lean in and stare at me; I looked right back. I remembered an old saying my mentor told me, from America: 'yeah though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I am the baddest dude in all creation.'
She told me it was a military thing. It certainly made sense here.
The ground grew swampy for a stretch, the air rank, and the sunlight little more than a fond wish. And then just as suddenly we were out, back into another clearing.
"The dark heart was kind to us today; usually it takes much longer to go through, and things can get interesting."
"Even for you?" I asked. Why not, she was chatty and I was curious.
"Cat doesn't like us getting soft." Ghost replied. I guess that said it all.
"Or bored," Shale added with a shrug, so then again maybe not.
"So what's next?" I was starting to get used to this place.
Shale shared a look with Ghost. "Nothing, the castle is next. It shouldn't take us more than another half an hour to get there. Well, maybe just under an hour, depending on our speed.
That was a hint to pick up the pace; stupid tall people and their stupidly long strides. I started counting down.
We had no further excitement and arrived at the top of the hill the castle was on just over forty minutes later.It was even more imposing up close, and carried the feel of great age, but it wasn't a ruin; the ancient stones were well cared for and carefully kept in place. the iron portcullis showed no rust, and the thick wooden drawbridge didn't so much as creak as we stepped foot on it. I could even smell the pine resin used to keep the wood fresh.
If there was anything marring the image, it was all the bird crap. I almost felt like I needed an umbrella or something.
Ghost nodded along, still getting me. "I know right? Rats with wings; we need to purge this place of them, it really ruins the look."
Just past the wall was a small village, made of small well-made cottages that looked much like the ones I saw in England and France. No wait, there were store fronts mixed in, and that looked like a stable... these were shops and services. Someone was a fan of the old life, or the classics; maybe both.
All of the shops were closed though, and the courtyard was empty. The road was paved from here, and led up to the castle proper. A castle with a very big, very sturdy door made of wood and banded iron. Something that looked more like a medieval safe vault door than something that should grace a house, no matter how big.
The large door swung open as we approached, and a true giant, not just a giant of a man, came out. I don't know how I knew the difference, but I did. He was more than just large, his bone structure looked different, larger in proportion to a human's, and he had a brow you could write a billboard on. His arms were too long, past his hips, and his legs seemed a little short.
He waved a meaty paw at Shale.
"I'm back Ognar, and we have a guest."
Ognar grunted and groaned; Shale pretended like she knew what he said.
"No Ognar, an actual honored guest. Cat herself brought this one in."
Ognar groaned again, and turned around without preamble, leading the way into a very big room which screamed faded glory, with then tattered carpet things and flags lining the walls, the moth-eaten and dirty carpet on the floor, and the broken weapons in display cases.
The broken weapons were old hunter weapons, I was sure. I was also pretty sure I recognized at least two.
There was also more than a few people, or familiars I guess, walking from one hall to the next, or just standing around. They all locked eyes on me the moment I entered, clearly curious. Some few looked past me; Gray was in some danger, here, cloaking device or not.
"Everyone, this is Cat's honored guest, Sasha. Sasha, say hello to everyone. Well, everyone who happens to be here at least."
"Hello." There were fewer than I expected, given the amount of time Cat had been operating. Even if more were around, it seemed I was as far from my estimate of hundreds as I could be. Maybe a hundred, tops? There were only twenty I could sense in the room, and that included Shale and Ghost.
The responses I got back ranged from half-hearted greetings to complete snubbing. I could tell that was just a front though, they all but oozed interest from their pores. Or maybe that one actually did, who could tell with slime?
Shale looked around, at a loss. "It's been at least ten years since we had a guest. You all are boring."
"Shut up, suck up."
Wow, someone was not happy. I turned to the source and found a tall silver haired woman with pointed ears leaning against the wall, her hands fingering a rather elaborate bow that looked to be carved to resemble woven vines. She was dressed in hunter's green, of course, and had one of those glove things on her wrist.
Her face was a pretty one, but it would have been better if it hadn't been set in a permanent glower, as if she'd eaten something sour and the taste never left her.
Shale sighed again; she'd been doing that a lot lately. "Give it a rest, Roth, it's over and done with already."
"You give it a rest, lackey. Some of us have more pride."
"But you still come when called, just like a dog."
Roth bristled at that and her hands twitched on her bow. Some seemed less than happy to be here. I guess I could relate.
"Careful Shale, or I'll show you my bite."
Shale brushed her off. "I've seen it before Roth, and you seem to be forgetting you can't. Something about being told to play nice with others?
The hands clutching the bow were now white knuckled. "I'll...!"
shale turned to me. "That's Rothschild, who seems to forget who owns her now. She's still a little sore over losing her first partner, even though it's been about a hundred years."
A hundred! Cat was older than any of us imagined!
"It was less than ten!" Rothschild screamed, spit flying. Or Shale could be needling the poor familiar, and I had nothing to worry about. I was glad I was far enough away not to get hit with any of that; some were actually hit by the spit, and giving Rothschild some hard stares.
Cat just appeared in front of us. "Getting to know each other? Good! I need to borrow Sasha back though, her friends are waiting for her. Everyone play nice until I return and maybe I'll bring her back!"
"Wait!" someone cried, but there was no waiting; just like that I was somewhere else.
The vertigo hit a moment later, and I fell some distance before just... stopping, while still in the air. I looked quickly; Gray was still with me, he hadn't been left behind.
Then my eyes caught Gloom's.
Gloom looked like hell; or rather, that he'd been through nine kinds of hell. His uniform was in rags, his weapons were missing, and he was one big walking bruise. The area was so trashed, I could only recognize where I was other than somewhere on the outskirts of Central. He was also alone, something that shouldn't have happened.
However, his hair was still perfect.
Oh, shit. He'd fought Cat. He'd clearly fought Cat, and she had been pristine.
"Where... were,,, you? He asked, forcing the words out with a wince.
No hand, don't curl around the back of my head, that's a sign of guilt!
"Um, you'll never believe it?"
It was a travesty, a mockery of justice. Expected, but a mockery all the same: I was under house arrest.
I mean, no one called it that, but I was here, in Central, and not allowed to leave headquarters.
To add insult to injury, Dustin was here, and he was talking.
"The damage in the city doesn't look too extensive."
"She wasn't trying to do more than test us." That was the official line, the one Gloom told me to say. Knowing Cat had attacked hunter HQ just to get my attention and talk to me would likely start a panic... and then a hunt for the wrong witch. But I was sure the entire thing was about me somehow, and I hadn't heard Gloom deny it.
I do wish I knew what Cat said to Gloom during their fight; whatever it was, he was still furious.
"Some test. We beat her back, at least. Gloom is as strong as he ever was."
I wondered. Gloom was impossibly strong, that was fact, but he clearly hadn't been winning. Cat left because she chose to.
"Yeah, I wouldn't call this a win, but it'd be hard to call it a loss."
Dustin nodded along with my words. "Exactly, and almost no collateral at all! A serious blow to her reputation, for sure."
Only Dustin would think about something like that. Cat had gotten whatever it was she wanted out of the attack; but just to talk to me? there had to be something more to all this than that, right? I mean I was pretty amazing and I knew it, but this was a bit much, even for me.
Gray didn't agree; he thought I was the goal, but he wouldn't even guess on why.
"Okay, one gyro from Gespatcho's, with everything, and a side order of chips." My order of a gyro that was bigger than my head and a full bag of freshly fried potato chips was plunked on my lap; the heat already soaking into my legs. Stupid skirt couldn't cover everything."
"Thanks Alicia. Where's Ivan?"
"Still on the beer run, if he's not back." She answered, inhaling some sort of roll or pastry; it was gone too fast to get a good look at what kind of food it was.
My team had decided since I was being kept close for my own protection, they would stay just as close. It wasn't like they didn't have the vacation time banked up. I wonder if I'd ever get to use mine.
Who was I kidding, I was probably getting charged for it now, even though I was still on the clock. Still, the display of teamwork or whatever it was, was touching. I was even touched by Alicia allowing the more responsible one of us to get the booze.
She better not have spit in my food.
A quick scan with my visor revealed she hadn't, and that the meat was pork. Not beef, but it beat rat or dog.
"What was that...?" Dustin asked, looking at me.
I made my visor vanish into my hair; really back into the hairpin that my hat had become. "What was what?"
"That...!"
"Don't worry about it," Alicia interrupted. "She was just making sure I didn't get her something bad out of spite. A prefectly reasonable precaution."
"Really it was making sure you didn't spit in it, but that works too." I took a bite as she shrugged my concern off.
Dustin looked at his own order, a salad. Alicia looked at him and wiggled her eyebrows. Dustin slowly set it down; I knew there was a reason why I liked her.
Ivan came through the door, pulling a full cart behind him. I waited for him to struggle close enough, "About time."
"I know. You'd think the bars around here would be used to us, but somehow it always seems to take them hours to get our orders ready."
We swapped; I handed him his gyro, he handed me a cold beer, and he joined us on the bench.
Dustin made a move for the beer; I hissed at him.
"What the..! are you a snake now?"
"You're going to find out if I bite if you touch that beer. We three kicked in for it, where is your money?"
Dustin tried on a confused look; he didn't quite manage it. "It's just a beer. Surely you three have enough to spot a fellow hunter a beer? Or have you been blowing things up again, Sasha?"
I took the high road. "Get bent, wuss."
"Fine." Dustin said, and thrust a few coins in Ivan's hand - when Ivan felt he had enough he tossed a bottle at the midget.
"So, what's the plan?"
As if I knew. "I get to help Emil recharge generators," I wasn't sure why but there were a lot of Hunters who were coming back low; it wasn't as if there was a witch shortage or anything. "Hopefully Emil will keep his paws to himself."
I really didn't want to be cut open for science.
"Well, we can come along if you like," Ivan offered, taking a long pull. "It's not like we got anything else to do, and Emil can't get us all without one of us nailing him."
Alicia opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Then she opened it again to stuff her face; midway through that she spoke:
"Can we at least finish lunch first?"
"I plan to," I told her. I at least chewed; perhaps I could lead by example or something.
Gray snagged a beer too, but he wasn't opening it. Ivan pointedly ignored what to him was probably a floating beer bottle. Dustin on the other hand did not.
"What the hell!?!"
"It's just Gray, shut up and eat your food."
Dustin did not shut up. "What's he doing?"
That was a good question. "Pouring the beer into his ship, for some reason."
Gray heard me. "I'm analyzing it. I have an analyzer and I'm interested to see what the attraction is."
"He wants to know what beer is made of." I relayed to Ivan.
He shrugged; "That's coming out of your share."
Damn it.
We ate in silence after that, and Ivan's cart got a bit lighter. Gray came over, and I handed him a little gyro; he ate a bite, then took the rest back to his ship to melt it or whatever.
"Alright, quit dragging your feet," Ivan told me. So what if he had finished five minutes ago, and Alicia had finished before him, I wasn't done!
"Fine, fine! bring the cart though," our fellow hunters were eying it, and if we ever got out of Emil's lab, the cart would be long gone.
Who knows? It might even distract the creepy guy, if I threw it at him. But could I do such a thing to poor innocent booze?
I let Ivan lead the way past the giant door and down, where the light struggled to reach. Luckily our goal was the generator room, where the spares and devices not in use were stored. A hunter did not usually give up his generator for any length of time - while it had a charge at least. But down here, mainly because of me, were some special cases.
I just didn't realize how many there were.
Gloom had wanted me to charge 'all the generators down there'. Turns out he packed the racks completely full, floor to ceiling. Right, Gloom wasn't happy with me. Gloom wasn't happy with anyone, really.
Alicia whistled, long and loud.
"Shh, are you crazy?"
Alicia paled. "Right, sorry."
"So, gloom told you to do all these, right? Do you think you can?"
"Yeah... in a year or so. Shouldn't take much longer than that."
"If you exhaust all your energy, it will take two days to fill these." Gray told me; no one else heard it, at least.
I grabbed the first as Ivan closed the door. The clack as he shot the bolt home was loud in the silence.
"Well that will hold Emil for at least five minutes."
"If the sound doesn't draw him."
"What am I, a horror movie killer?" Emil asked, rising up from a large box labeled 'computer parts' like a demented jack in the box.
"Well clearly, yes. What the hell are you even doing there?"
"Sleeping, of course."
Sleeping, under a box. Sure, it made perfect sense, if he was me and didn't want to pay for an inn room somewhere.
Emil brushed the thick dusty out of his hair, sneezed, and kept going. "A little bird informed me you were assigned to help your fellow hunters down here, Sasha. I thought to my self 'self, I don't want to miss this opportunity' and so I decided to wait for you."
Don't ask, don't ask... "How long were you waiting?" Damn it.
"Since last night."
I was afraid of that. Alicia and Ivan finally stopped gaping and closed ranks in front of me. Gray was already there, not that anyone else knew it; his quick reaction was the only reason I hadn't drawn at the first hint of movement. I was sure Emil knew something was up, but he didn't say anything.
Well, about that. he had more important things in mind: "So... anyone got some coffee? Or some water?"
He was out of luck there . "Nope."
He spotted the beer and sighed. "Fine, I guess I'll just use my emergency supply."
Emil opened a dusty old cabinet and removed a glass jar that I was sure held a specimen of some sort earlier in it;s life, chugging down the slightly green tinged liquid without a care. I couldn't stop the shudder, but luckily no one was looking at me.
"What the hell did you just drink?" Alicia asked.
"Hm? Oh that was water," Emil admitted. then he thought better of it. "At least, I think it was. It did have a bit of an aftertaste to it...."
Nasty.
Emile turned to me, wiping his mouth and staining his lab coat in the process. "So - go ahead, don't let me stop you. Do your thing."
"Yeah, right." I started with the first generator in reach; I could already tell that this wouldn't be like last time; I could fill more generators than the last time I tried. Just how many more was the question.
Power poured in until it couldn't take any more and the needle in the gauge was past the F. I was pretty sure that was the first time this particular generator had ever seen that, since I knew who it belonged to and he just wasn't that good, but he wouldn't die because he ran out of juice at least.
I looked up to grab a beer, and found out that a good five minutes had passed.
"Can't you do that sort of thing faster?" Alicia asked me, butt on a desk and feet kicking around. Somehow she made that work, tall as she was.
"Maybe, but I'm trying to pace myself." Not only had I not timed how long it took me to do this the first time, but I was dragging my feet a little - since Emil was just waiting for me to finish for the day. Even pushing power as slowly as this, it wouldn't be long, but there was no reason to rush the running and screaming portion of my day.
Some of the generators were old, older designs with more than a few scars from past battles. most of them were new and untouched. Were some hunters getting a leg up for their first hunt here? That wasn't a good idea; it was important to learn how to track and subdue a witch without the power crutch a generator provided. If you didn't, you'd only learn it later, when it was more likely you'd be facing a Maze or a Cat instead of some new blood.
But it wasn't my place to question Gloom's decisions.
Nothing to do but think while charging generators, and nothing good to think. I was almost starting to think I needed to bring that horror of horrors, a book. I blamed Emil and his constant staring.
Then I had no more juice to give, after just two hours. That left far too much day; at least I managed to top off seven of the things, and I was tired. I wasn't too tired to run though, or to give my team the signal.
I pretended to power another generator while my team plotted our escape. At least, I hoped they were; the only outward sign of anything was Gray dropping his scans and coming over.
"You should not have run yourself completely out of energy; now we are at the mercy of that man." Gray whispered. Right, or to knock me for my actions, that worked too. I couldn't even tell him that the fewer days we did this the better, or Emil would know about him, and the little sneak knew it.
Emil was reading some sort of handwritten note on a scrap of paper he had found somewhere; he looked up from it to meet my eyes. "Oh? You're looking up, does that mean you're done?"
Shit! "Um, no?"
Alicia and Ivan both shrugged as if to say the jig was up, and dove for more beer, the traitors.
Emil hadn't been convinced either. "A sizable number of generators filled - but if you are finished it's time for the examination. As you know the examination of a live, active witch could greatly help our efforts in rehabilitation - or in more final measures. Gloom has informed me personally of your desire to co-operate. It won't even hurt!"
Everybody heard the muttered "much" he tacked onto the end of that.
"Where's Irene? As my doctor, she's required to be present for any and all examinations."
The manic light went out of Emil's eyes... for a moment. Then he opened the cabinet again.
"I knew she was here somewhere!" he exclaimed as Irene fell out.
How had she even managed to get wedged in there? Emil gave her an experimental kick and she groaned. A look up and she unfolded herself like a one of those plants finding the sun, a gleam I didn't like shining in her eyes. Huh - normally Irene is the sane one.
I must have been tired because she was on me faster than I could draw. "There you are, Sasha! time to see if anything's changed!"
She grabbed my hand; the thrown bolt of the door not impeding her in the slightest. I idly wondered who was going to replace that and then we were in her office.
"Honestly Doc, nothing's changed since... well you know."
Irene straightened up her glasses, brushed off her coat, and that was all it took to make her look professional again; it was a nice trick.
"Sasha, I know you mean well, but you're not a doctor. Don't worry, Emil won't be getting in here."
Well it wasn't like the man hadn't seen me before, even as is; I just wanted to avoid any cutting.
Irene threw the bolt on her office door... and then threw the heavy plank across and slid the floor bolt in for good measure. A rather forlorn "but Irene...." sounded from outside over the last loud click.
"But nothing Emil, you heard her! She's mine!"
Irene turned back as if she hadn't just shouted that: "Up on the bed, Sasha."
I hopped up. With nothing to hide there was no reason not to.
Irene started poking and prodding, and I noticed that Gray wasn't here. Dread slithered in me; where had he gone? Had he gotten locked out? Was he okay, or had Emil found him somehow?
No, I had to keep calm. Gray could take care of himself, he was a big boy.
Actually, how old was Gray anyway? Something to ask him later.
"So, hearing any voices yet?" Irene asked idly.
I don't think Irene is cleared. I really should have asked. "I have a familiar, if that's what you're asking."
Not sure why I blurted that right out, but doctor patient priviledge was a thing, right? I mean I couldn't just ask Emil about Dustin's super secret wart problem, not out in the open anyway.
Irene was staring at me, and sliding a foot toward her desk. "I'm fine Doc, and Gloom knows. No need for the panic button or gun or whatever it is."
Irene shrugged and sped up a bit. Reaching her desk, she slowly went for a drawer, an eye on me, and brought out a small plastic box with a handle and a lens... a video camera?
"Does that even work?"
"It does, has batteries and everything. I was saving it for a special occasion; may I?"
"Just understand Doc, I'm not taking my clothes off for that thing." How would she even play the tape back? Didn't you need a television for that? there wasn't one here I could see.
"Oh no, I wouldn't expect you to. Besides, what I want to capture on film is how your clothes changed since your transformation. It may be invaluable."
I looked down at my skirt and shirt. I wasn't in my uniform, since I wasn't actually on duty, so instead I was wearing my comfy clothes. The clothes that were actually a different kind of uniform, if one knew what to look for.
"Right. They just changed."
Irene nodded. "It could lead to valuable insights into yours, and other witch's mental state. I've long theorized that mental stability affects witches."
Was she serious? "That's not exactly the most groundbreaking theory, Doc."
The red light on the camera came on as she huffed out: "I didn't mean it like that. I meant that how stable they are has an effect on how stable their power is."
I thought about that, watching Irene carefully pan her camera over my form. She dictated who she was, who I was, and all the standard stupid info one would expect into the microphone as she did it, so I stayed quiet.
Granted it was hard when she included my measurements; I wanted to ask why future doctors needed those, but I stayed out of it. Then she started asking questions again.
"So, any urge to smash the camera?"
No more than usual; I wasn't a big fan of anything that could be used against me later. "Not really."
"Any urge to commit violence against me for using it?"
"Not really."
She raised an eyebrow, asking a silent question.
"I'm trying to be serious here," I told her.
"I appreciate that, but you sound like you're not telling me everything."
"I am," I told her. "I'm just trying to keep things professional."
She smirked at me. "Don't explode from the pressure."
"Ha. Ha." Why did everyone go for the low comedy around here? Well everyone except me of course.
"Well, that's all I needed," Irene admitted. "Just need you to stand up and summon your hat for me, if you would."
"Fine, I can do that." I stood up and brought my visor out of my hair with a thought. It started giving me Irene's vitals as I looked at her; a sort of turn about. She was fine, all in the green. Just the act of looking out of it was tiring me somehow.
Irene walked around me, camera in hand, silently. I stood still for the minute she took, then she flipped the camera off.
"Alright, that's it. Now I did think ahead; I have a way of sneaking you past Emil."
Oh this I had to see. "How?"
Irene smirked, and moved to the door that was probably a bathroom. Before I could follow she came back with a me.
Or a crude, stuffed doll copy of me. Unless I missed my guess, it even had a copy of the first robe-dress thing I was wearing when Irene last saw me. The big floppy hat was a cheap prop too. She threw it in my arms... was it actually made of straw? The face was a mask, wrapped around something.
Irene looked to me, then the doll. She pinched the waist of the doll in a bit, then nodded to herself. Wait, that was what she needed my measurements for?
I was pretty sure I looked nothing like that. "That's not going to fool him."
Irene smirked. "I bet you it does."
There was no way. "You're on. A booze of choice to the winner."
:"Nah, a steak dinner to the winner."
Oh but she was confident. "Sure."
We shook on it, and I stepped back while Irene pulled out a gurney; one of the foldable types with wheels. She plucked the crude thing from my hands and slammed it down on the gurney, covering the whole thing with a sheet and only allowing the bad wig to show. The wig which wasn't even close to my actual hair color.
"Okay, just wait here. Behind the bed, preferably."
No way, I wasn't about to miss this. I stepped back in the shadow of the door. "I'll get the door."
Irene ever so slowly took the board off - then messed up her hair artfully. "You can do better than that," she whispered. "Tell Ivan to pull Emil off my door."
Emil was up against the door?
I had a better way than violence. Well maybe, violence was still a great way of doing things, but Emil was tough. "Ivan! Beer for Emil!"
Ivan heard me, the bastard. "Emil, some of Sasha's private stash?"
Irene took advantage and flung open the door; pushing the gurney out into the hall so hard it rebounded off the far wall and shrieking like a banshee. "THE DATA IS MINE! FOR SCIENCE!"
I peeked around the corner; the tell-tale smash of a broken bottle made me wince. But it was a worthy sacrifice, because Emil took off after that stupid doll without a second glance at anything else.
"No, don't you dare, Irene! You promised to share!"
Gray was right there, a small camera snapping steadily away.
"Come on, let's go before he figures it out."
I said that loudly enough that anyone in range must have heard it, but Emil just kept going, yelling no at the top of his lungs at the shrinking figure of Irene, who was running flat out for the basement.
Damn, guess I owed Irene that steak after all. "Let's go before he figures it out."
Alicia snorted. "It could be next week, with how clueless he is."
"Yeah but I don't want to chance it." I pounded pavement, and Ivan kept pace.
......
"Well?" Emil asked the light of his life, his partner in crime, as he danced with the doll she had made around the cramped spaces of the dingy poorly lit lab he called his own.
"She didn't react at all to the camera, other than to assure me she wouldn't be undressing for it." Irene answered, looking away as she buffed her nails.
"And the rest?"
"The full battery of tests, X-ray, MRI, and all the rest, all went through. We have some lovely data. She never felt the tech on her."
"Beautiful. From the top, then."
"Grinning, Irene handed off the first of the printouts.