《Event Horizon: Gravity》
Event Horizon Prologue: The Gravity Well
The deep rumbling of the machine made the floor vibrate slightly as the large chamber began to slowly spin. Behind a thick glass shielding embedded in the interior walls of the chamber stood a man dressed in what looks like a stiff red tuxedo, complete with tophat and a red bowtie befitting someone far more advanced in age. As the spinning chamber picked up speed the man''s grin grew. ¡°How long until it reaches target velocity?¡± he asked, his eyes glued to the window. ¡°Not yet possible. I¡¯m still waiting for the reports on the new generator. Unless we manage to siphon off more of the gravitational potential the chamber will rip itself apart before we can stabilize and maintain the event horizon.¡± The words came before any of the technicians could even turn around to face the man. The speaker sat in a chair to the man''s left side, filling out a sheet of paper in neatly written notes. She looked up at him and adjusted her glasses. ¡°Here.¡± She handed him a bundle of papers. Across them were dozens of calculations, diagrams, measurements, and tons of text blurbs next to drawings of squares and numbers, so minute in size that it was hard for the man to read what was even written there. ¡°My dear Doctor, what am I looking at here?¡± He asked. She stared at him for a second, but when his smile refused to dip even a fraction, she blew out a breath and rose to her feet. Her intense eyes bore into his as she took back the notes. ¡°Never mind, I¡¯ll handle it myself. Now, if we¡¯re all done here, I need to finish designing the containment spheres. Marcus, you may cancel the spin cycle, we¡¯ve seen enough.¡± One of the technicians, presumably Marcus, hit a few buttons and slowly pulled a lever all the way down until a soft click could be heard. Lights turned on as the hum from the machine died down, and people started exiting the control room. The Doctor stared out into the large chamber through the blast shield in front of her. Her black hair was pulled tight into a bun behind her head except for a slightly curled lock that fell from either side of her temples, that framed her face in a way that made her almost look seductive.
¡°For the record, I think you¡¯re insane. And not just the kind other people call each other when they act outside the socially accepted norm, I mean properly clinically insane. It¡¯s the only logical explanation I can come up with for this entire venture.¡± She turned to look at him again, feeling inadequate in such an intimate social interaction. His eternal grin was stretched across his face, just a few degrees beyond what any natural smile would do to a person''s lips. ¡°I¡¯m sure you mean well, but do remember that words can hurt, Doctor.¡± The words came out in a chastising tone, but the man''s demeanor was as optimistic as ever. He pushed a button on a panel and a door opened into the large cylindrical chamber. ¡°Come¡± He said. ¡°Let¡¯s pop the hood on this bad boy.¡±
The two of them stepped into the large machine. Teams of technicians, engineers and assistants were filling the chamber all around them, taking notes of structural damages and repairing them in turn. In the middle of the machine, on the floor, there was a crater about ten feet in diameter. ¡°You know what I feel every time we walk in here, Doctor?¡± asked the man.
¡°Yes.¡± She answered, not bothering to stop walking. ¡°Oh come now, is that all? No wistful repetition of my emotionally charged words that you probably memorized the first time you heard them?¡± he asked, the offended tone of voice entirely overshadowed by the fact that his bright teeth were reflecting multiple lights from workers and the walls. The doctor turned her head slightly. ¡°No.¡± She said, ¡°Now be quiet.¡± They came up to the crater on the chamber floor and looked down. Inside it was a floating, rotating set of rings on top of each other, with a smaller disk in the middle of it all. A small rod was punched through the small disk, and was currently a few inches off from pointing straight up and down. The woman stared silently at it for a moment before making a quick sketch in her notes. She put a date next to it, and folded the paper in half and stuck it in a pocket on her lab coat. The man looked at the floating instrument. ¡°You deserve praise, Doctor, you know that?¡± he asked. She ignored him. ¡°Right, of course you do, you know everything.¡± He raised his right hand towards the outer ring of the instrument, but before he could touch it, the woman slapped it away and glared at him. ¡°No touching!¡± She practically spat the words at him. ¡°You have no idea how delicate those are, and I have spent way too much time calibrating them for you to undo all my work because you couldn¡¯t contain your curiosity.¡± The words came quickly, and suddenly she had a very sharp pencil pointing directly at the man''s eyes. He held up his hands, palms out in a placating gesture, and backed off a few steps. ¡°Mreow, I love the intensity!¡± He said, grinning. ¡°I wish you would bring that energy to the bedroom.¡± He winked at her, still holding his palms out. The woman sighed and let her hand fall. ¡°Sir, that is highly inappropriate¡± She turned away from him and continued in her toneless voice, ¡°Expect to receive a report from the HR department on my behalf before the night is over.¡± The woman raised an eyebrow at him and added, ¡°is that understood, Director?¡± His grin grew another half inch as his dark orange eyes sparkled. ¡°Aw, what¡¯s a little flirting between coworkers?¡± he laughed. She ignored him. ¡°Fine, I understand, no more flirting with my staff. Not even my dear mad scientist.¡± His grin shrank into a mischievous smile as he spoke. The woman whirled back towards him with surprising speed and precision, staring icy daggers into his eyes. ¡°Mister Director¡± she said. Her voice was absent of any emotion, however the tone was so cold it could have kept a nuclear reactor running safely for years.
Before she could continue a group of technicians and engineers approached them at the crest of the crater in the floor, one of them holding a bundle of papers in his hands. ¡°Excuse me Doctor, Mister Director. We have finished the post-cycle diagnostics and have the reports ready for you now.¡± He looked nervously back and forth between the smiling man and the glaring woman. He gulped. ¡°We uh¡ we need to repair approximately 8 percent of the inner chamber wall to get the grav-shield functional after today''s test, and it¡¯s going to take about 6 weeks according to our calculations. ¡is that going to be okay?¡± The group of workers cringed slightly when the man presented their reports, and some even took an unwilling step back as The Doctor sighed and reached out for the bundle of papers in the team leader''s hands. She skimmed the first few pages, and in the few seconds it took her to read her demeanor changed from the coldly furious visage she bore a second ago, into a more relaxed professional mood. The woman looked up from the papers back at the team lead and said ¡°I¡¯ll check your numbers later and see if I can expedite the repair estimates somehow. You¡¯re dismissed.¡± The group of workers quickly dispersed, except for the team leader, who shakily took back the stack of notes The Doctor just finished skimming through. He gulped once, then said ¡°Thank you, Doctor. We greatly appreciate your work.¡± He was about to continue with something more, but the dead stare from the Doctor made him shut his mouth and turn to walk away.
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The Director, who had watched the exchange quietly until this point, took a deep breath and said ¡°Well, that was fun! Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s just great to be surrounded by such dedicated and talented people, who you can rely on to get the job done, no matter what?¡± The sound of his words came out a bit louder than they needed, if the Doctor was the intended listener, however he saw the stiffening backs of technicians and engineers as he spoke. They were all listening. That was good, they should be.
The Doctor wasn¡¯t paying much attention to the people around them anymore. The comment from the director was too overt for her taste, and she found it easier to just ignore it when he got mischievous. Which was often. Instead she looked up through the ceiling skylights. Above them all was the night sky, vibrant with stars dotting the darkness of space. Out here, far from people in cars, buildings with their light pollution, and factories that spewed out smog, it was as if the stars were more alive. She knew of course such notions were cosmic nonsense, for many of the stars she could see tonight had burned out millions of years ago. But it looked pretty. All the stars looked beautiful in the clear sky, with colors ranging from white to green and red, blue and purples and.. she saw the hole. Guilt came over her as she couldn¡¯t help but notice it. A spot in the sky where just a few months ago there had been another bright light, just like the millions of others around it. Now there was a hole instead. She looked away, trying to find something else she could focus on, something that would challenge the vast capabilities of her brain, anything that could take her thoughts away from the hole. She saw the Director, standing with his back to her, facing the center of her floating machine. He raised his hand and waved at someone far away. The few lights still turned on in the chamber dimmed and turned off, and the two of them were once again alone in the darkness. Alone except for a tiny spark of light, shining from a small hole in the middle disk at the center of the doctor¡¯s strange machine. The director stood, straight and tall, his face illuminated by the light of the small orb, smiling steadily. ¡°It still amazes me, Doctor, how much one can achieve with enough dedication and faith,¡± he said. She scoffed slightly. ¡°Faith, is that what you¡¯d call it? You had me design a device that frankly spits in the face of physics and then you did it again when you gave me the tools and manpower to build a large gravity collider the likes of which mankind has never seen. You dare call my genius a work of some unoriginal deity that¡¯s worshiped by sheep too afraid to realize their faith is misguided and idiotic? ¡± Her words were soft, but steady. ¡°I built this. This is my achievement, as much as it is yours. For whatever good that might be.¡± She paused for a second, then in a small whisper she said ¡°I¡¯m responsible for what happens next.¡±
The Director stared at her. ¡°Are you quite finished?¡± He asked, his tone of voice not quite matching the smirk he wore. ¡°I was just remarking on how far we¡¯ve managed to come, and how very special I think your work is. I could never have done any of this without you,¡± he said, his smile growing with every syllable that left his lips. While he spoke though, something strange happened with his eyes. The Doctor thought for a second it must have been a trick of the light, but a quick calculation on angles, brightness and photon behavior standards told her otherwise. The Director''s eyes shone. It was just a dim sparkle on the outer edge of his pupils, but there was no mistaking it from her point of view. He kept talking. ¡°In fact, my dear doctor, I do believe there are even more exciting things coming our way, I can feel it! It¡¯s true what you said. No mere deity could have accomplished our goals. I dare say no creature anywhere has ever tread the path we¡¯re about to blaze! Nothing among the stars has my ambition! The stars themselves would never even see it coming!¡± He was almost shouting the last words, and his mouth split open into a laugh that seemed to come from somewhere deeper than humanly possible. Somewhere dense and heavy. The light in the doctor¡¯s machine flickered in time with his laughs, and as he laughed the Director slowly turned around to face the light. He stretched a hand out towards the disk, and this time the Doctor didn¡¯t stop him. As his hand got closer to the device, it began moving, seemingly on its own. It tilted its middle rod at an angle towards the director¡¯s hand, and the two orbiting rings began slowly spinning in opposite directions. The floor beneath the device shook violently for a second, then quickly faded. Loose wires and tools left behind by workers shuddered, then began sliding on the floor towards the device. It happened very slowly, and all the while the Doctor stood there, calculating everything from random objects'' mass and trajectory to the alignment of the planet in comparison to the moon, all in an effort to stay calm. The Director inched closer to the shining orb. ¡°Imagine my dear Doctor. With the power of these tiny things, we can change all the rules. We can bring light to the world, fix everything! I could go home.¡± The Director¡¯s voice cut clear through the distance between them, as if he stood just inches from the Doctor''s ear. She cleared her throat. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s all well and good, sir, but I feel I must warn you. If you move any close to my Well it¡¯s going to break every bone in your arm. Without the chambers effect to aim the Gravity Well mixed with you affecting its magnetic field with your mass, we have no way of knowing how it will react,¡± The doctor said, trying her best to make it understandable for someone without her brain. Then after a brief thought, she added ¡°Although I¡¯m not opposed to sacrificing your well being to see what would happen.¡±
The Director took a step back, and half turned from the device known as the Well. ¡°Of course, my dear, of course. I got a bit carried away for a second. Next up is stabilizing the centrifu-whatever, correct? Ah, and your new power source, right?¡± He looked at her expectantly. She could see the glee in his face as he smiled at her, but his eyes were lit up with something she could only describe as¡hunger. She hesitated for a second, then answered him. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. As soon as I can replicate the properties of our first¡source, I can produce a duplicate source to support the first, and potentially double the output. From there I can stabilize the chamber''s centrifugal forces. That should in theory be enough.¡± As she spoke The Director walked up to and past her, humming softly to himself, a jaunty melody she couldn¡¯t place. ¡°Thank you ever so much Doctor! I think this is enough for one night. Good work. I¡¯ll be leaving tomorrow morning to attend to some personal matters, but I¡¯ll see you sometime before our next test. Handle everything until I¡¯m back, okay? Goodnight,¡±, and he walked into the dark doorway that led back into the control room and eventually out of the facility itself. The Doctor stood there, looking after him, asking herself, not for the first time, what it was they were doing.
Chapter 1: The Last Day
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 185 lbs/84 kg
Mental Status: Sleepy
Physical Status: N/A
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Crunch! The sound of the off-brand cereal was loud and dry in my mouth. It probably didn¡¯t help that I had nearly no milk to go with the almost-chocolate flavored flakes of dry wheat and sugar. I was sitting at a table in the kitchen, looking out at the world below the window where people and cars were starting to fill the streets, signaling the start of a new gods damned day. I then nearly dropped my spoon as the door to the kitchen slammed open. A chipper ¡°Good morning!¡± was shoved right in my ear as my sister barged into the room. Her face wore an expression that seemed intent on forcing a bright day even if it had the audacity to be anything less than stellar. Her name was Emily Etrigan, my older sister. I managed to grumble out a ¡°g''morning¡¯¡± back at her between bites of cereal. It was way too early for me to be able to use proper words, and besides, I was busy shoveling spoonfuls of quote unquote ¡®food¡¯ down my throat.
¡°How¡¯s your morning? Are we out of milk again? Alright, black coffee it is then!¡± Emily¡¯s machine gun mouth fired off sentence after sentence at blistering speeds as she rummaged through cupboards and drawers to get a couple of mugs and spoons. Her mood was the usual energetic and positive wave of happiness it always was. It was baffling how she could force so much energy at this time in the morning, although to her this was more like the end of the day. In a matter of minutes she¡¯d boiled some water, made two cups of coffee and sat down at the table. She slid one of the mugs over to me.
¡°Careful, it¡¯s very hot,¡± she said before sipping her own mug gently.
¡°Thanks. How was your night?¡± I asked.
My sister worked as a night nurse over at the Andromeda, a hospital that only took in especially powerful people, like politicians, major business owners and all of their family members.
¡°It was good, no incidents tonight, but Mrs. Solomon had another episode. She¡¯s okay, she just walked from her bed into the cafeteria and woke up trying to make herself a bowl of rice pudding. I walked her back to her bed and she told me I remind her of her granddaughter. She just got her college degree, isn¡¯t that great? The granddaughter I mean, not Mrs. Solomon.¡±
She kept talking like that while I ate my breakfast and drank my cup of coffee. The sacred black liquid did its job and got me energized during our little conversation, although I would still need a shower and some fresh air before I really woke up. While my sister filled me in on her night I took the opportunity to inspect over the rim of my coffee mug. She looked tired. Emily was older than me by 4 years, but she managed to somehow look like a younger sister. She took excellent care of her long, sandy blonde hair, and spent an equal amount of time and effort to keep her skin smooth and soft. She was shorter than me, by a full foot, but you should never mention that to her face, or you¡¯d suffer her version of a scolding, which included a guilt-trip about twice the length to the sun and back. Other than her height, she was pretty unremarkable, although many would call her pretty, or even beautiful when she made the effort with the right dress and makeup. The only thing betraying how she really felt was her eyes. Her light blue eyes were deep, and always filled with a spark of excitement about the world and everyone in it, but it could dim in the aftermath of a long night at the hospital. Even then mostly only I could see it, having known her for so long. Her name plate hung loose on her nurse¡¯s uniform, and her name, Emily Etrigan, looked faded on the little metal plate. She smiled though, and was probably genuinely happy, although the dark lines beneath her eyelids told me she probably stayed longer than what was really necessary.
Emily loved her job. Loved helping people, fixing their issues and providing a stable structure of support during difficult times. It was the reason I was currently living in her apartment, drinking her coffee. ¡°I see,¡± I said just to fill space as she took a breath between sentences. She kept talking about her patients and her tasks, the ones she liked and the ones that were challenging to her. I listened intently, not because I was interested in her job, but because I respected her.
Here I was, working a dead-end job I hated, living in my sister''s apartment and doing my best to find meaning in my life, while she was working tirelessly night after night at a hospital for rich douchebags, without ever complaining about anything, even though I could see she was exhausted. I didn¡¯t say it much, but I loved her alot, not just because she was my sister and gave me a place to live at the moment, but because she never gave in to adversity. Whenever I bitched about my own job, or my useless coworkers, she always managed to talk me out of whatever shitty mood I was in, and got me to admit that ¡°Alright, it¡¯s not really that bad, I just wish I could do something more important.¡±
I didn¡¯t have a horrible job by any measure, and in all honesty I was pretty okay at it, it was just not exactly what I¡¯d expected of myself. I was a store clerk for a pretty large tech company that sold everything from computer equipment and phone accessories to toys and simple robots for children. I considered it a mental torture chamber. It was my job to promote merchandise and sell customers items they absolutely didn¡¯t need, and if someone needed help with a broken phone or something similar I had to help them even when their request was something stupid like ¡°My alarm clock won¡¯t play this specific song I like¡±, or ¡°My child smashed my phone with a bowling ball, can you repair it?¡± Every day I got more depressed than the last, but I needed the money.
I felt like my life had stagnated after college. I started my major in astrophysics, and managed to get through the first two years, but then I fell behind during the exam period in the third year. It had been like that ever since childhood. I was gifted with a wide range of talents in many different fields, but after that talent carried me as far as it could and I actually had to work and study to achieve any kind of expertise, I would fail. I wasn¡¯t able to just sit down and do something that required my full attention, even if the subject was something I was genuinely interested in. As soon as I was told I had to do something that would take more than a few hours I would struggle to even begin. When I should have been working on myself I was instead spending my time reading someone else¡¯s work, listening to someone else¡¯s music, or went and just ran until all my excess energy was spent. I knew I was wasting time, but it became an easy escape. It did have one benefit though. I got very skilled at doing several tasks, all at once, very quickly at night. Good for someone that lived an action-filled life, full of intrigue and drama. Not so much for an adult man with no real direction in his life.
I had wanted to study stars. I wanted to just sit in my own personal space where I could watch the night sky and marvel at the vastness of space. I could play music I enjoyed, or a podcast with voices that had just the right amount of enthusiasm to keep me active. There I could fill the space with things I enjoyed and people I liked, instead of having to tolerate the general public at a thematically colored electronics store. Instead what I had was no time for hobbies, no money to spend on interests, and worst of all, no useful skills or abilities to improve my situation as it was right now. I was a 28 year old store clerk with a ton of student debt and no future. If I went on like this I-
¡°Hey! Ash! Earth to Ashton, are you there?¡± Emily snapped her fingers in front of my face to get my attention. I let out a confused ¡°huh?¡± and stared at her.
She hesitated for a second, then said ¡°Don¡¯t you have to go get ready? If you want to get a workout in before your shift starts you gotta get going.¡±
I thought I caught a twinge of concern in her voice, and I felt a little guilty for making her worry about me. She had enough on her plate.
¡°Yeah, you¡¯re right. I¡¯m gonna take a quick shower, then I¡¯ll get going.¡± I stood from my seat and dumped my dishes in the sink, then headed into the bathroom. The first thing I saw as I stepped through the door was my own face in the mirror. I looked almost lethargic, but I chalked it up to not being much of a morning person.
That or the fact that I stayed up way past midnight last night to read about old nuclear reactors and how Lodestar Labs were creating a future where fossil fuels would be entirely obsolete. Good thing too, because there wasn¡¯t much left in the world.
Nevertheless, I needed to freshen up. I undressed and turned on the shower, then waited for it to get hot. I didn¡¯t have much time though, so I couldn¡¯t wait very long. The mix of coffee and cold water hitting my skin had an electrifying effect, and I immediately felt more awake. I may have shrieked just a bit from the shock, but no one probably heard that. Then I heard Em¡¯s laughter from out in the hall. I blushed.
I didn¡¯t have much space to move in the shower. Not that it was tiny, I was just a lot bigger than my sister. I was pretty medium height, but several years of physical exercise had made me pretty broad shouldered and thick around the chest. I wasn¡¯t a bodybuilder by any means, but I had found joy in the gym. Sometimes I felt like I should have become a soldier, or a security guard, just so I could get paid to work out.
I finished in the shower and turned the water off. A towel hung on the wall, and when I reached to grab it I got another look of myself in the mirror. My short black hair was slicked back away from my face, which now looked a lot better. As I dried it, my hair fell forward to its neutral, kinda spiky style. When I was younger I tried to keep it slicked back with hair gel and similar products, but it never stayed down for long so I eventually gave up.
I brushed my teeth, put on some moisturizer and got dressed. I heard a knock on the door. Emily stuck her head in as I was about to open the door. She looked me dead in the eyes, her pale blue against my dark purple.
¡°Oh, you¡¯re dressed, good,¡± She shot off before I could complain about the intrusion on my privacy. She then ushered me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom to get my stuff.
¡°I packed your bag with some lunch, and I put some cash in there if you get hungry after work.¡± I smiled sheepishly at her over my shoulder.
¡°Thanks, Em,¡± I managed to say as I collected my things. She watched me walk around in the little storage room I used as a bedroom to pick up my stuff. I always kept a gym bag with a bunch of workout gear in it, ready to go whenever I wanted to hit the gym. Other than that my little bedroom had little in the way of space or decoration. I slept in a single bed, had a small closet for clothes and a tall wooden box where I kept my laptop computer. If I layed down on the floor I was just able to touch either wall width-wise if I stretched my arms out over my head.
The last thing I picked up from my room was my cell phone. It was old, practically an antique. It was shaped like a rectangular piece of glass and metal, with wires and circuit boards, and a screen you had to maneuver using old touch-based technology.
As soon as I walked out into the hall, Emily tossed her car keys at me and said ¡°Here, just make sure not to slip.¡± I caught them as she followed up her last words ¡°It rained last night and roads are slippery. I left her in the carpark, near the door. Anything else you need before I go to bed?¡±
I was surprised whenever Em let me borrow her car. She loved the old wreck of a car she¡¯d bought over ten years ago now. It was a chunky red thing that barely passed the DMV safety inspections, but it was reliable, and cost her practically nothing on gas.
¡°No, I¡¯m alright¡± I answered her. Emily yawned and asked yet another question. ¡°Are you seeing Deimos today? Tell him I said hi, and that he should come over sometime. You need more social interactions.¡± I strapped on my bag and jingled the keys a little. I liked the sound. Then I looked back at her, blushing slightly, and said ¡°Not at the gym, but he¡¯s coming by at work later. He told me he needed to get some stuff fixed for the weekend. Something about big plans and a presentation. I¡¯ll tell you at dinner tonight I guess.¡± Deimos was one of my closest childhood friends that I still saw on a regular basis. Even mom knew him on a first name basis, which put him on an entirely different level than any of my other friends. We¡¯d stuck together through girlfriends, oversea trips and even some political elections. The guy was family to me. Em was probably correct about the social interactions thing, though. I was often bad at that. ¡°I¡¯ll tell him you said hi. He¡¯ll probably answer something about your ass again though¡± I said. Deimos, in addition to being my friend, also found my sister insanely hot, and mentioned it at least once every time I saw him, to my eternal discomfort.
I walked through the apartment to get to the hall and front door. The place was designed like a rectangular horseshoe, with the living room in the middle, and bedrooms and kitchen on either side. Some news station was turned on and a sharp dressed man was on the screen, talking about some company doing something important. Many opinions by many people. To me it was just another rich guy exploiting his wealth for power. I turned it off and stepped outside. The very first thing I noticed was the brightness. I guess I¡¯m not the best at lighting the apartment whenever I¡¯m by myself, so my eyes were adjusted to pretty dim light still. I kept telling myself I didn¡¯t need that much light because we had windows, and, you know¡ electricity isn¡¯t free. So as I stepped out I was momentarily blinded by sunlight reflected in the snow around our building, and subsequently fell on my ass when my next step hit a patch of ice. Passersby could see me fumble around on the ground for an embarrassingly long time before I got my feet under me and managed to stand up. I got off the stupid ice patch and dug out an old pair of sunglasses. Sure, my eyes were already used to the light, but at this point it was more about hiding my face more than shielding my eyes from the treacherous rays from the sun.
The car was easy to find, it being a stark red splash of color amongst the otherwise gray and black background of other cars. Emily was a lot like that. She stood out from the crowd, always wearing a reassuring smile that shone like a beacon in an ocean of gray faces. She¡¯d been like that ever since we lost our dad. He passed before I could form real memories, but Em was just old enough to have a connection to Argyle Etrigan, the everyman hero. He¡¯d been some sort of lawyer, and the stories I¡¯d heard from mom and Em were all about how he wanted to help people that had been screwed over by large corporations. One time he sued a power company for malignant disposal of radioactive waste that ended up poisoning the local community. He won, and the company was forced to pay a fortune in punitive damages, which eventually caused the company to go under. Lots of angry people after that. An investigation was launched against our dad, and they found some form of leverage used to disbar him, and revoked his license to practice law. I¡¯m told he took his own life after that, and since then the Etrigan name hasn¡¯t been looked upon very favorably. Nevertheless, Emily wanted to follow in dad''s footsteps and help or be of support to as many people as she possibly could. Hence the nurse job, and one day, hopefully, a medical degree in pediatrics or something. Point is, she was a superhero to a lot of people, just like dad had been. Emily loved superhero culture. Not the cool things, like the powers, the costumes or the over-the-top villains. No, she liked superheroes for their relentless will to help everyone, those in need, the weak and the injured, and even those in opposition to themselves. She related to that, and did all that she could to embody that idea. Too bad it didn¡¯t come with fortune and fame actual superheroes got. I had to forcibly end my train of thought, as I really needed to get going.
I got in the car and got my ass in gear. First stop was the gym. My planning app told me I had a 5-10 minute run as a warmup, then I was gonna do some fighting practice before I started lifting. Sorta all over the place, I know, but my brain liked a lot of variety. Deimos would slap my shoulder and tell me I needed to be more focused on specifics during workouts. Just running, or quick warmup and then only lifts, et cetera. He was the guy who got me started in my early twenties. He was a lot like a mentor to me back then, getting me out of my room and getting me to actually do things. I owed him a lot. Which is why this upcoming weekend was very important, but I¡¯ll get to that later.
???
Due to the early hour, the gym was practically empty. I liked it that way. Less chance that someone hogged equipment, and more space to move in. My gym wasn¡¯t small by any means, but it wasn¡¯t a huge fancy one either. It was called Supernova, and had a ton of locations all around the city. Inside was a cute twenty-something brunette woman called Tyler, which yeah, a little weird, but you get used to it. She worked the counter, and was an omni-present employee at this gym. No matter what time it was I showed up, she was there, no matter the day. She always wore the same long-legged lifting tights, and a very, let¡¯s say flattering, T-shirt with the gym logo on it. It was about eight in the morning, and I had managed to find a coffee stand right outside, so I was enjoying my second drink of the sacred black liquid as I entered the building. Tyler looked up from the counter and greeted me with her usual customer service smile. A smile I now remember relying on to get through the rough morning hours of my work days. It¡¯s not like I was in love with her or anything, but she was absolutely my type. She looked good without being overwhelmingly beautiful, which meant I was able to have a normal conversation with her, and the way she spoke was always very genuine, without being overly familiar. She was close with her friends though. I¡¯d seen her on multiple occasions laughing with people that might have been coworkers or friends from outside the gym. Tyler was what I assumed to be cool. She laughed hard, spoke with force and had strong opinions about her interests, which mostly consisted of athletics, fantasy videogames and raveparties. She was pretty chaotic. I liked that about her. She had short, messy hair, usually dyed in some fun color, this month being a dark blue that faded into black at her roots.
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I waved a hand at her and smiled. ¡°Morning Tyler.¡±
¡°Hey Ash,¡± she said. ¡°You want the usual?¡± I dropped the bag and leaned on the counter in front of her. It was wide, so it was still an appropriate amount of distance between us.
¡°Yes please.¡± The Usual was an order of some special healthy water and a pre-workout shake I ordered as part of my membership to the gym, that got me pumped up for my workouts. The water contained a blend of herbs and minerals that was supposed to help with blood flow, oxygen intake and hydration , and the shake was just a bunch of caffeine and amino acids that tasted of something like battery acid, but it did its job wonderfully. I would also have a protein shake waiting for me by the end of the workout, filled with stuff that was supposed to help me get stronger. I stifled a yawn as she turned around to get the shakes and bottles, and I got a good look at her as she bent down to pick up the different protein powders and pre-workout. I blushed and turned around quickly, pretending I didn¡¯t see the pink string that peeked up from the rim of her tights. I wasn¡¯t very good with stuff like that, or girls in general to be honest. I¡¯d had a few girlfriends before, don¡¯t get me wrong. It was just that I had no natural charm, or game of any kind, and all my relationships before happened in most part thanks to the other person pursuing me, rather than the other way around. I didn¡¯t feel extremely comfortable trying to force a conversation with a stranger, no matter how attractive they were. I wasn¡¯t great at social interactions in general. Which brings me back to the situation at hand, where Tylers pink underwear now filled my mind and made me feel like I was back in college, where the dorm halls were always full of sleepy half-dressed men,women and non-binary people. I was embarrassed then, and I was embarrassed now.
¡°Yo, dude!¡± I hear Tyler call from behind me. ¡°Are you okay? I called your name like, three times.¡± I turned back around towards her. She was done fixing my water and shakes, and I was just standing there like a dumbass.
¡°Uhm, right, yes, I¡¯m good, thank you!¡± I hurriedly said, and grabbed the bottles she¡¯d set up. I must have looked like a tomato judging from the way I felt hot around my neck and ears. Tyler on the other hand looked oblivious to the visual stimulation she¡¯d provided me with. She wore a slightly concerned look on her face that made her usually sharp features seem fragile, but if it was out of genuine concern for my well being or just her being polite to yet another customer, I wasn¡¯t able to tell.
¡°Sorry, I just got distracted by eh¡ a text from Emily,¡± I hurriedly explained. A news report coming from a radio somewhere spoke about the unusually low temperature the city had experienced this past week, and I took the opportunity to make a plausible excuse.
¡°There was a lot of ice in the streets today, and Em let me borrow her car. She just asked if I got here safely.¡±
To be fair, it wasn¡¯t a complete lie. I had slipped on the ice, and I was bound to get a text from Em sooner or later today, depending on when and how long she would sleep. I smiled reassuringly at Tyler, who shrugged and handed me my shakes and water. She gave me a smile back and a thumbs up as she wished me a good workout.
I turned and headed for the changing rooms, while Tyler turned up the radio, where the newscaster was now talking about some sort of new development in astrophysics. Something about a star that had gone missing from the night sky a couple of weeks ago, and how the government funded science team were struggling to find out what had happened. I knew about an old, famous scientist that could have solved it, but she went off-grid before I was even born. Some huge project that never went anywhere.
Whatever, I thought to myself. I had a workout to get through. The second my playlist started, my brain turned off and I started running.
???
¡°Heads up!¡±
I was at work, in my uniform, leaning against the counter and looking at my phone screen as a wad of fabric hit me and wrapped itself around my face! I extricated myself from the soft assault of what felt like freshly tumble dried clothes and looked straight into Deimos¡¯ eyeball.
¡°Dude!¡± I nearly shouted the word as I jerked backwards from his face. He scoffed at me. ¡°The Ashen Champion, brought down by a bundle of fabric! What a pity, I genuinely expected more from you considering you¡¯ve been so consistent with your training for so long.¡±
Deimos said all this with a mischievous smirk and eyes that bore into mine. I glared back at him, as hard as I could manage. We stood like that, in silence, for a whole 3 seconds. Then we both burst out laughing at the dramatism of it all.
¡°Alright, you got me!¡± I told him, still laughing while unfolding the clothes so I could get a better look at them. Once I got it untangled I saw it was a nice three piece suit from some high class brand I was passingly familiar with.
The workday thus far had been unremarkable. After I finished at the gym I changed into my store uniform and drove over to the building I spent far too much of my time in. Matthew, a coworker, was on the opening shift and had taken care of most of the daily routines, so I didn¡¯t have much to do once I arrived. That meant I had plenty of time to sit around and be bored until Deimos would arrive.
My store was located in a mall fifteen minutes away from my gym, or twenty minutes away from Em¡¯s apartment. It was a medium sized store that could take maybe twelve to thirteen concurrent customers at a time, but the location inside the mall made it hard to find us, so we usually didn¡¯t see more than three people at the same time. Most of my coworkers disliked the low amount of traffic, but I was alright with it personally. It let me spend time doing other, more interesting things. Before Deimos¡¯ fabric based assault I was looking at a recipe for dinner that evening. It was my turn to cook, and I wanted to find something new and exciting that was also healthy and protein rich. I really enjoyed cooking for me and Emily.
My other duties at the store involved things like counting inventory, packing shipping orders, writing banking reports, and of course, making sales. My boss was obsessed with numbers. He was one of those guys that were super motivated by making customers buy more stuff than they wanted, as well as trying to get everyone to buy the most expensive version of a product when just the regular base version would work just as well. Naturally he wanted everyone else at the store to be just like him in that regard, and sure, it worked for one or two other guys, but I really hated that kind of behavior. I wasn¡¯t a salesman. Talking to the customers to try and figure out exactly what it was they wanted, or trying to convince someone to buy something they didn¡¯t really need made me feel uncomfortable. It felt to me like what running a marathon wrapped in barbed wire would feel to anyone else. This is why my mood had increased significantly when Deimos showed up and gave me something entirely new to think about. Such as why he¡¯d thrown the very fancy suit I was currently inspecting at me.
¡°This suit looks very¡ expensive,¡± I told Deimos. ¡°Should you be throwing clothes like these around?¡± I continued, looking concerned at him. He just grinned stupidly at me. I then finally realized he was clothed in an equally fancy and expensive looking suit of his own. ¡°Alright, what is this for, and why are you wearing that? You¡¯re making me nervous, man.¡±
Deimos opened his mouth and said with a chuckle, ¡°I have rented us suits.¡±
He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, however, this was about as far from normal as the two of us could get. Deimos and I usually wore some combination of a metal band T-shirt and jeans, or a loose fitting pair of sweatpants and tank top for the gym when we worked out together. He was very much not the suit-wearing, businessman looking person that stood on the other side of my sales counter.
I looked at him incredulously, mouth hanging slightly open. ¡°Yes, I can see that¡Why though?¡±
Deimos regarded me with a look so smug I briefly thought he¡¯d asked Emily out on a date or something, but I was pretty sure she¡¯d text me if that was the case.
¡°Ashton, my friend,¡± he stated theatrically.
¡°I am here to tell you I have in my possession two full three-day passes to the Lodestar Labs Science Convention at the Luxin City Expo! It¡¯s this weekend, Friday to Sunday, and don¡¯t worry about the cost, I got it covered. I¡¯ve been making some new high ranking friends at work, and I convinced middle management to send me to the convention as a representative of Eleqwik Reaction to sign a partnership deal with Lodestar about whatever it is they¡¯re unveiling, so long as I brought my new assistant along with me.¡±
It was at that time Deimos¡¯ smug smile transformed into more of a sheepish grin, clearly hoping I wouldn¡¯t get hung up on the fact that he¡¯d just referred to me as his ¡®assistant¡¯. His last few words trailed off as he waited to see how I would react.
¡°Deimos,¡± I started casually, ¡°there is no force on this planet powerful enough to stop me from walking through that Expo main gate, no person, no government, no God!¡±
By the end of it I was almost shouting, grinning from ear to ear, and I could see people outside the store look at me as they passed by to see what the crazy clerk was shouting about. I didn¡¯t care. This was the best thing to happen to me in years. Of course I knew about the Convention. The event had been promoted on every surface in the entire country for months. It was supposed to present an end to the eternally expanding gap between the extremely wealthy and the dirt poor beneath them, by showcasing a device that presumably was able to generate vast amounts of clean energy with no cost.
¡°Fantastic, I knew I could count on you Ashton! I have everything planned out, from hotel to restaurants, what panels to attend, and I got us front row seats to the main event at the Astral Hall!¡± Deimos spoke with loud excitement. The Astral Hall was named after the once famous Doctor Melanie Astra, who developed the Andromeda Star Chart, a map of all the stars in our galaxy that still shone, even if they had in reality gone Nova, several thousand lightyears away.
I beamed back at Deimos. There were few people I felt this open with, and I genuinely enjoyed the social energy I got from being around him.
¡°That sounds awesome! I can¡¯t believe a sleazebug like you managed something like this. Any other major events at the Expo you know about that haven¡¯t been announced?¡± I asked him excitedly. He thought for a moment, then shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so. I rented the suits as fast as I got the memo from my manager, and then I came straight here, so I haven¡¯t been able to check any details yet. I got this though.¡± He pulled a holopic out of his wristphone and turned it towards me. It was an access badge for himself and one assistant, cleared for all floors and panels for the convention, as well as some special events, such as an after-party and a meet-and-greet with some business and science people. The badges spun lazily in the air, projected holographically from his wristphone. Asst. Ashton Etrigan was splashed across one of them with a picture of my face on the other side.
Deimos and I locked eyes.
¡°By the way, Deimos, if you refer to me as your assistant around anyone at the convention center, I am going to sidekick you so hard that any child you have will be born with an imprint of my foot in their face,¡± I said, completely deadpanned.
¡°Oh yeah?¡± He shot back quickly. ¡°You¡¯re really gonna disfigure your own nephews and nieces like that?¡±
I scowled hard at him and in a low voice told him ¡°Keep your nasty hands off my sister, Deimos.¡± He answered with a quick ¡°Nope!¡± and grinned.
I sighed loudly, but he just laughed at me. We kept talking about the convention and what we wanted to do and see there, all the while people went on with their lives around us.
???
When my shift ended Deimos left me with the fancy suit, and I drove home to cook dinner for me and Em. She was asleep when I got in, but woke up soon after the smells of food wafted into her bedroom. I was wearing earbuds, so I didn¡¯t hear anything until Emily forcibly dug the little speaker out of my ear and said ¡°That smells great!¡± just a few decibels louder than strictly necessary. I rubbed my ringing ear and snatched the little round earbud from her fingers. She grinned at me, feigning innocence as only she could after something like that. I sighed and let it go. Secretly I kind of enjoyed her playful personality. It kept me on my toes around the apartment, and to be honest, Emily¡¯s overwhelming positivity made even the darkest days of my life bearable.
¡°Thank you, although I¡¯d prefer it if you could just tap my shoulder like a regular person when you want my attention. Now, sit down, it¡¯ll be done in about five minutes.¡±
I had made a meat mix bowl, with actual meat that I bought after my shift at work. It was expensive, but my excitement for the coming weekend affected my usually strict budget plans. The meat came from multiple sources, so I just fried it in oil and seasoned it with salt and black pepper. I tossed in some diced potatoes and boiled kale, and made the leftover grease from the frying pan into a sauce with some butter and flour.
¡°Okay Em, could you get us so- ah, you already got the plates, thank you. No no, I¡¯ll serve today, don¡¯t worry about anything.¡±
I served her a platter full of food, then got my own portion while she waited and watched, head resting in her hands.
¡°Thanks Ash, I really appreciate the effort. This is gonna make me last all the way through the night!¡± Emily smiled at me as she spoke. A soft, casual smile, without any expectations or motive. Just a genuine gesture of thanks. Then her eyes turned pointedly towards the real meat, and she said ¡°Now, are you going to tell me what happened today? Did Tyler ask you on a date or something?¡±
I reddened slightly at the thought, then cleared my throat before answering her.
¡°Actually it¡¯s because Deimos came by. Eleqwik is sending him to the Lodestar Convention, and he¡¯s bringing me as his assi- uh, as his business partner!¡± Emily raised an eyebrow skeptically at me in response. ¡°I see. And as his ¡®business partner¡¯ your job will be what exactly? Taking notes for him? Kissing his ass? Answering his phone?¡± She grinned at me then, acting oblivious to her own joke. I began protesting, but another idea formed in my head as my words transformed on my tongue.
¡°Actually, Deimos did mention something about that. Specifically that he looked forward to kissing the children you and he would have together, after you got married of course.¡± I stressed the word children to make sure Em got the idea. She almost choked on a bit of meat as I finished speaking, and started coughing until it turned into a wheezing laugh. She cleared her throat and said hoarsely ¡°You may tell Deimos that if he wants to live past his thirties he would do well not to make such bold claims. When the Gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.¡± I slapped her shoulder lightheartedly and said ¡°I threatened him with immense physical violence if he ever decides to grow the balls he needs to ask you out.¡±
I held back my thoughts about her last comment though. It was something our mother used to say. Before she stopped speaking entirely.
We finished dinner and Emily did the dishes while I turned on the monitor in the living room. The streaming services we had were pretty good, but I was too excited about the next day to be able to pay attention to anything, so I just browsed until I found a videocast of the Andromeda Star Chart. There was a twenty six hour livestream of the holographic chart available at any time for any platform, where you could look at the Chart and see where we were currently located in space compared to the rest of our solar system and the living stars in the Andromeda Galaxy. The display was amazing to observe. The power in it, the vast oceans of potential hidden within those flickering lights. I wanted it. I wanted power. I wanted the ability to affect people and events around me, the skill to wield whatever force that allowed those at the top of society to just wave a hand, and change the course of history. That was political power though. My father had once had a different power, as a lawyer. A judicial power. He used his power to influence an honored judge of the law, as well as a panel of jury members. His power was taken from him by people with political power, but that too could be taken from them in turn. I only really trusted one kind of power, the only form of influence that couldn¡¯t be taken away or hidden. I wanted personal power.
I turned the monitor off as I heard Emily getting ready to go to work. She saw me standing on the floor in the now dark living room, but said nothing. I looked out the window and realized I must have stood there for over an hour, just watching the Star Chart and rolling around in my own mind. I checked my phone screen. It said 11:07, just under two hours until midnight.
I heard Emily''s voice, softly from beside me. ¡°Don¡¯t you think you should go to bed? You¡¯ve had a long day, and if I understand correctly you¡¯re gonna have a pretty long day tomorrow too, right? You know, at the Lodestar Labs Science Convention?¡±
I must have not been keeping a good poker face, because it was obvious she was trying to get me to think about other things. I let go of the tension in my body, then turned to Emily. I tried to smile. ¡°You¡¯re right, thanks for reminding me. I¡¯m gonna go and lay out all the stuff I need to bring tomorrow, then I¡¯ll sleep. I promise.¡±
I could see she was examining my face, but after not finding anything to argue about she let out a breath. ¡°Alright, good. I¡¯m probably not home before you go, so make sure you eat properly even though I¡¯m not here. I bought some milk and oatmeal, and there¡¯s a carton of cold coffee in the fridge, next to the milk, so you have no excuse!¡± She pointed a stiff finger at me before she turned and picked up her work bag. I gave her a tight hug before she left the apartment. We didn¡¯t say goodbye, we just locked eyes for a second, and then the door closed between us.
I went to bed just a few minutes past midnight, which gave me exactly eight hours of blessed sleep before I had to wake up all over again. I lay down in my bed, eyes facing the small window, and the starry sky beyond the glass. Didn¡¯t Fornax used to have 4 stars? I wondered before unconsciousness finally caught up to me.
Chapter 2. The Convention
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 185 lbs/84 kg
Mental Status: Anxious
Physical Status: N/A
The crowds were thick everywhere we looked. People filled every inch of space at the main entrance gate of Luxin City Expo and made it impossible to move freely around. Luckily, Deimos and I weren¡¯t in any of the groups trying to get inside through the main gate or any of the side gates that populated the borders of the Expo grounds. Thanks to Deimos¡¯ job we had been invited in with the other business representatives, which was still a significant number of people. I didn¡¯t like being in crowds, as you can probably tell, and this group of suit-wearing men and women were no exception, but it was bearable in comparison to how I would feel if I had bought a general admission ticket.
I felt extremely out of place amongst these people. They looked bored or were otherwise occupied with flickering text conversations that ran across digital lenses worn directly on the eyeball, like corrective lenses with an added Augmented Reality feature. Nothing I could ever afford. Some of the other people were speaking quietly amongst themselves, and I heard fragments that indicated they had spent a lot of money to get an invite, and that it better be worth it. Those with matching suits and badges were gathered in groups, but some looked like they were here alone, keeping to themselves in a corner or unoccupied couch. In contrast to these people I felt jittery with excitement at all the exhibits and presentations we were going to be witnessing. The opportunities here were massive. I didn¡¯t know how yet, but it felt to me like just being here was the first step towards a brighter future for myself.
We were all located in a side building, inside a large conference room, waiting for this host of some kind that was supposed to greet us and take us out to the show floor. The space was furnished with black and gray furniture. Leather couches, armchairs and tables were scattered around the room, creating sections for people to gather without having to intrude upon anyone else¡¯s personal space. This was pretty impressive considering the fact that there were forty eight people currently in the room with me. Other than that it was a generally normal office conference room, which meant a cabinet full of smart-pads, a coffee machine, a couple computers, and a large holoscreen projected on the back wall. There was also a giant food station and bar, where they served real meat and naturally grown fruit, which I thought was almost a little excessive. It must have cost a fortune, but it was there for us, free of charge. Needless to say, a large line had formed at the table, and Deimos had just gone to fetch us some of the complimentary food and drinks when a sharply dressed man with glasses came over to me.
He was tall and thin, black hair and a clean shaven face, and he wore a tall red tophat with a black satin band around its base. Regardless of all of this, the most striking thing about this man was his wide, white grin. It seemed to shine, even though the room was perfectly sunlit through the large windows that overlooked the Expo. It was as though this man was holding a dimly lit lightbulb in his mouth, and the only expression it allowed him to hold was one of a madly excited glee. He approached me and stuck out his hand.
¡°Hello! What a pleasure it is to see fresh faces at one of these events! I¡¯m glad to make your acquaintance, Mr¡ ah, Ashton Etrigan! What a powerful name you have, Mr Etrigan!¡±
I hesitantly grabbed his outstretched hand and he shook it so vigorously my badge jumped up and down as it hung from my neck. He must have read it, because I never got a chance to actually say anything. The strange man spoke quickly too, so much so that I couldn¡¯t get a word in even if I wanted.
¡°Man, what a grip you got there, do you work out?¡± he asked. I nodded hesitantly, becoming more uncomfortable with the situation each second. The man kept talking.
¡°Impressive! Finally someone who isn¡¯t scared to get out of the lab and work on something other than theoretical numbers, am I right? Not only that, but you seem to have a good head on those shoulders as well! I saw it when you arrived, you see, I try to make it my business to get to know every interesting newcomer, and you look positively captivating! They way you scanned the room and the other suits when you entered? Then you proceeded to casually count each one of us! Is that a compelled action or just a personal quirk? Nevertheless, it¡¯s a good habit! Gives you a sense of control! Every bit of information can be helpful, that¡¯s the way I see it!¡±
The man spoke with such force, it was like being punched in the face with words. My head was swimming and it was hard to pay attention, all the while his demeanor was overwhelmingly positive and relaxed. He even smiled at the end of each sentence. It looked effortless.
¡°So, who do you work for here?¡± He asked. ¡°You¡¯re not with the guys from The Steady Faith, they wouldn¡¯t bring such a young man, and you¡¯re certainly not dressed well enough to be working at Exhelion. You could be with Zenith, or perhaps even Lodestar, but you don¡¯t seem like the type to work in Theoretical Physics or Design. Too much mass to you. That only leaves the smaller businesses.¡± He paused to look around for a second, then turned his bright orange eyes back to me. He blinked once, and I swore I could see a flash of light in them, but it must have been the sun shining through the window and reflecting off his AR lenses. ¡°So?¡± He said, and I realized he was actually waiting for an answer.
¡°Oh, erm¡ I¡¯m not- I don¡¯t uh.. know any of these people.¡± I said, which couldn¡¯t have sounded very impressive. I was sweating nervously and it was hard for me to look the still unknown man in the eye. Where the hell was Deimos? I decided it was best to keep talking until he showed up, my nerves be damned. Maybe I could still save this first impression somehow.
I cleared my throat and did my best to sound confident. ¡°What I mean to say is, you¡¯re right, I don¡¯t really work with any of these people. I¡¯m here with my friend, on an invitation from his company, Eleqwik, to uh¡ watch the main stage presentation and report back what I think about the convention and its contents.¡±
That sounded better, although I ended up being a little more honest than I intended. At least I didn¡¯t make a fool of myself in front of¡ whoever this man was. I hadn¡¯t spotted any badge on him yet, and at this point I was too nervous about it to actually ask who he was. There was a chance this guy was some serious high ranking businessman that anyone else would recognize on sight, but I had never seen or heard anything about a tall, thin man with the billion watt smile.
He took in my answer and seemed to mull it over for a second, then barked out a loud laugh, just one, and clapped me on the shoulder. I almost jumped out of my polished shoes as the tension broke at the sound of his hand against my shoulder, but I managed to stay calm. He was surprisingly strong. He looked me straight in the eye and said ¡°You know what, Ashton? I like you! There¡¯s a spark in your eye, and I can tell you can go far, given the right chances! It¡¯s too bad we won¡¯t ever meet again, I would have liked to see how it turns out for you!¡±
His words and the genuine emotion he layered them with made me uneasy. It felt like he knew some kind of secret, that both amused him immensely and saddened him greatly. It made me empathize with the strange man in a way that felt alien to me.
Before I had any more time to think about it he once again grabbed my hand and shook it, hard. ¡°It has been a pleasure to meet you today, Ashton, but it is almost time for me to leave! I hope you enjoy the Convention, I know I will!¡± And before I knew it he had left me, my hand still hanging in the air in front of me. I looked after him and saw him stop next to a woman with sharp features and black hair. She gave him an old fashioned pair of actual eyeglasses, which he then put on before the two of them exited the room.
¡°Who the hell was that?¡± This time I did jump, as Deimos¡¯s voice came from right behind me. He¡¯d finally returned from the food and drinks table, with two trays loaded to the brink of overflow with a variety of real meat, fruit, potatoes and gravy. ¡°Deimos! Don¡¯t scare me like that, man!¡± I grabbed a plate of food and sat down at a nearby table. As I sat, a small paper square fell out of my breast pocket. I didn¡¯t recognize it, but a small image of a red tophat was imprinted on the little card. I was curious, but the smell of the food in front of me was overpowering, and I put the card down. Deimos sat down next to me with his own plate. From a pocket he pulled two forks wrapped in napkins, and handed one to me. A water pitcher and paper cups were already at the table. We ate for a couple minutes, just watching the people around us doing the same. Eventually Deimos looked up from his plate at me. ¡°So, are you gonna tell me who you were talking to back there, Ash? That tall guy with the fancy hat? He looked weird. You know, out of place. Did he tell you his name or anything?¡± I picked the little card up. ¡°No, he didn¡¯t introduce himself, he seemed to just be interested in me. I have no idea who he is.¡± Deimos looked skeptical at my answer. While I spoke I turned the little card around in my hand, and on the back of the card was another little inscription. I read it, then looked at Deimos. ¡°Do you know who The Director is?¡±
???
We ended up waiting for another ten minutes until we were eventually greeted by the host from the Luxin City Expo Committee. There were two of them, in fact, a man and a woman. They looked extremely alike, and I thought they could perhaps be twins. Same brown hair color, same round face with the upturned nose, and same pale skin from being inside too much. Not that I was any better. The hosts made us all form up in one large group, then gave us all brochures of the events that would take place throughout the weekend. I tried to look for the strange man I had spoken to earlier, but both he and his friend were gone.
¡°... and if you look on the back of your badges you¡¯ll all find a numerical code that matches the card inside your brochures. This card is the access card you will use to enter the private presentations to your companies, as well as your private apartments and conference rooms.¡±
I looked at the back of my badge and sure enough, a three digit numerical code was printed on it, right under my name and title, that matched the code on the black plastic card I had pulled out of my brochure. Then the host''s words hit me like a truck. ¡°Wait, we get individual apartments?!¡± I whispered to Deimos. ¡°Shh! Yes, but forget about that, and pay attention¡±
I had clearly misinterpreted just how much money was spent on all the guests for the whole weekend. It baffled me how easy it was for these people to just throw such life changing amounts of money around. The waste of space and the inevitable waste of food disgusted me, but I would be lying if I said I wasn¡¯t curious to see the private rooms. I realized I¡¯d lost focus again and turned my attention back to the hosts. The woman was speaking now. ¡°We hope you will enjoy your stay at the Lodestar Labs Convention, and if there is anything you need you can call on us any time, just call the phone number on your brochure.¡±
Again, excess luxury that seemed to rub me the wrong way. It was just another comfort for rich people who were unable to do normal things on their own, like cook, or dress themselves. I looked around at the other guests, and found nothing but pleased faces and nods of approval. Even Deimos looked excited by the luxury, which I found a little weird. He and I usually shared opinions on stuff like this. I ignored it for now. It was time to go to the convention.
???
We didn¡¯t get to enjoy the convention. Or rather, I didn¡¯t get to enjoy the convention. Deimos and I had apparently a whole list of things that we needed to complete. These tasks were given to Deimos by his boss at Eleqwik, and largely consisted of administrative work. In other words, we had to fill out documents and make notes if something was out of the ordinary. It felt like walking through a desert with no water, no food, and nothing to do other than be bored! Easy to say Deimos did most of the actual filling out of the documents, while I just scribbled some stuff down on a pad whenever he said to. Deimos actually enjoyed the work. He had a mind for planning and executing that I simply lacked, and besides, he actually knew what all these documents were for. I tried to read through a couple, but all I saw were words like ¡°acquisition¡±, ¡°security¡± and ¡°contractual obligation¡±. That was enough for me to check out completely. I had real issues with performing small, repetitive tasks like these, and would alway push them on to someone else if I were made to do them at my own job. I got through it purely on the promise that we would be able to fully enjoy the convention when it was all done. We still had people to talk to as part of the deal, but that was at least doable out on the show floor, which meant Deimos could handle the talking and I could do the gawking!
¡°What was that?¡± Deimos suddenly asked, looking up from his thousandth document. ¡°What was what?¡± I asked right back. He looked at me. ¡°You,¡± he said. ¡°You mumbled something and then hissed at yourself? Was that you trying to laugh quietly?¡± I blinked. I had apparently been talking to myself out of pure boredom, and not noticed when I made myself laugh. I sighed. ¡°Maybe? I don¡¯t know man, I¡¯m too bored for this. Have you any idea what we¡¯re missing right now? The things we could be seeing if we came here as regular guys?¡± I looked at him pleadingly, but Deimos just waited for me to continue. He knew me well enough not to interrupt me in the middle of a dramatic speech. I took a deep breath.
¡°Look, D, I¡¯m not saying I¡¯m ungrateful, this place is pretty cool, and I¡¯m very glad you chose me to come with you on this little adventure. HOWEVER, I would have liked to actually go walk the floor downstairs, and see all the projects that might change the world! I mean, what if someone is showcasing an actual flying car this year? It¡¯s just a question of mass manipulation and gravity, right?¡± I was grinning at this point, and Deimos was sitting with his head in his hand, patiently waiting for me to finish. ¡°Remember when the Panine government funded that engineers hover tech project?¡± Deimos nodded and smiled at me. ¡°Within ten years their whole navy was equipped with jetpacks, and that hero, Pulsefire I think, is using some variant of it over in Vochs.¡± He said, still resting his head in his hand. ¡°Exactly!¡± I said excitedly. ¡°Imagine getting to try out the prototype for it when it was first presented, oh wait, WE COULD BE DOING THAT!¡±
I was panting, my pulse was thumping beneath my skin, and I was grinning from ear to ear. Then I slammed my hands on the table as hard as I could. The action made Deimos jump, which was exactly what I wanted, but it also made my palms sting like crazy. ¡°This is the fucking Lodestar Labs Science convention! The world¡¯s greatest scientist team, funded by the world¡¯s biggest technological company! The same people who made space travel a commercial experience, the same team that eliminated all use of fossil fuels! They made the Andromeda Star Chart, dammit! Their head scientist used to be Melanie Astra, a magnetar amongst her peers, and that was long before she designed the Chart, and we¡¯re stuck up here? Doing paperwork?!¡± Deimos sat up straight as I took another deep breath.
He raised an eyebrow ¡°Are you done?¡± I rubbed my hands together. They still stung a little. ¡°Almost.¡± I realized then that I had apparently gotten out of my chair around the time I slammed the table. I noticed because I was on my feet and somehow out of breath. I sat back down and tried to calm down. ¡°All I¡¯m saying is that we should be down there, seeing all the ideas and possibilities that might take our shitty lives and change them into something better. You know, as a couple of friends doing fun things together. Alright, now I¡¯m done.¡±
Deimos sat still in his chair, back still straight as a steel rod. ¡°Did that make you feel better?¡± He asked calmly. I was still breathing harder than usual, but my pulse was already half of what it peaked at during my tirade.
I met his eyes, and he stared straight at mine. His were a bright, golden orange color, and very very pretty, while mine contrasted them well with my deep purple darkness. I¡¯d been told by several other friends that, from the way we looked and acted around each other, we would make a great romantic couple. I¡¯d thought about it, but quickly decided that I was more comfortable with the friendship we had. Besides, Deimos was only attracted to women, specifically my sister.
¡°I¡¯ll feel better after some food. If we¡¯re gonna stay in here all night I might as well take advantage of some luxuries.¡±
I ended up going to bed early, while Deimos stayed up to finish doing the rest of the paperwork. I was exhausted from trying to understand all the legal-speak, so I barely even noticed when Deimos went out later that night. I don¡¯t know how long he was away, but I was a heavy sleeper, and fast asleep by then. I had no idea what he had done.
???
I was woken up by a monotone voice yelling at me from the ceiling.
¡°Good morning. This is your preset alarm. The time is 07:15 in the morning. Coffee or tea will be ready in ten minutes.¡±
I forced my eyes open and instantly regretted sleeping close to the window. The included robot assistant built into the room had apparently been programmed by some masochist because right at the end of the robotic alarm the curtains were raised, and the bright light of another morning shoved itself straight onto my retinas. I grumbled loudly, but did eventually get out of bed. A ding! came from the little kitchenette, as a pot of fresh coffee finished boiling on the countertop. There were plenty of choices in cream and sugar, which I usually couldn¡¯t afford, so I went a little crazy trying out different things. The sacred black liquid tasted amazing as it woke me up properly. Then I remembered what day it was, and got my ass moving with an efficiency that no one who knew me would believe I was capable of this early in the morning.
¡°Deimos? You up?¡± I yelled out in the room.
¡°Bathroom! Be out in a tic!¡± I heard him yell back from behind a door at the other side of the room. I filled another mug with coffee for him, then went to grab some casual clothes from my bag. No way I was gonna wear the fancy, stiff suit if I didn¡¯t have to.
Deimos came out of the bathroom a minute later and grabbed the mug I¡¯d set out for him. His hair was dripping with water, which reminded me of how I probably didn¡¯t smell great after the previous day''s stresses.
¡°I¡¯m gonna grab a shower, then we can make some breakfast before we hit the floor. Please |tell me it¡¯s okay to wear jeans and a shirt, because I¡¯m gonna wear jeans and a shirt.¡±
Deimos swallowed a big gulp of coffee. ¡°You can wear jeans and a shirt. Don¡¯t worry about breakfast though, there¡¯s a buffet in the private lounge that¡¯s open until nine. I was planning on picking up bacon, a couple eggs, some toast and a carton of milk, then we¡¯d eat in here before we head downstairs.¡± He said, and winked at me.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
My mouth was all the way open, and my eyes were about to pop out of my skull. To me it was as if Deimos had spontaneously grown a second head, but he said it all with a nonchalance that almost seemed natural until the wink. This is it, I have died and gone to paradise, I thought to myself. I was even almost right.
The main floor was packed! People were milling about inside the huge open space, going back and forth between the different exhibits that were there. The exhibits themselves were given vast designated areas, with representatives from all kinds of different tech companies showing off their newest projects. I took in everything as I walked around the halls with Deimos trailing behind me. We spent hours looking at the bleeding edge of technology. I learned about the newest in Augmented Reality Lenses, where soon all users would be able to wear corrective eyeglasses over the AR lens, without having them interfere with the signal to and from the lens. Then there was the booth from NeuroLink, a group of medical engineers that were creating Neural Network implants that would assist the body of a person with mental illnesses like depression or chronic anxiety, by better balancing the chemical composition of the brain and its functions. With these implants they could potentially erase such illnesses entirely, the only current issue was getting people to acknowledge and support the relatively complex procedure necessary for the implant. I signed my and Emily¡¯s name on their petition, knowing she would have killed me if I robbed her of an opportunity to help others.
Deimos, while I was checking out new gadgets and gizmos, was busy talking to the actual representatives of each exhibit, the spokespeople who were there to actually sell products to companies. He did a fairly great job, too. I was impressed at how easily he got them talking about production issues, or personal stories from whatever lab had developed each invention. I never understood how he got close to a stranger so well, and so fast.
We spent the majority of the day like this, walking around, checking out as many exhibits as possible. Some were better than others, which was to be expected, but there were a few standouts as well, such as the neural implants. The biggest event was still ahead of us.
The Lodestar Main Event staged was enormous. A grand hall was entirely set aside for the groundbreaking project that Lodestar Labs would finally unveil. Rumors about what it was spread like wildfire, but none came close to the truth.
The conference hall was split into three sections, layered on top of each other. VIP¡¯s and other people with an invitation, meaning me and Deimos, were seated in section 1, og the floor of the conference hall itself, with a table to share with a few other guests. Above and behind us was the second layer, generally for press and photographers, and the third layer was for any other convention goer who wanted to come see the panel.
In the front of the room was a large half-moon shaped stage, with a huge, black backdrop and two projected screens on either side. On the stage were a couple chairs, a couch and a table to one side, and a raised podium in the middle for whoever was going to speak.
Deimos and I were part of the seventh group that was guided to our seats, where we ordered a couple drinks to wait until the hall was filled. I had changed into the suit again, at Deimos¡¯s request, and was feeling uncomfortable about sitting at the same table as a bunch of strangers in similar suits. Despite our clothes being the same, I was nothing like these pompous, self-absorbed, rich and insincere assholes.
The large conference hall filled up pretty quickly, and while we sat with our drinks we could see other groups of VIP guests enter and sit down at tables just like ours, spread across the floor. If I looked up I could also see the layered balconies filling up with a mass of people holding snacks while trying to find a good seat.
If I could handle being in the middle of that chaos, I think I would prefer it to sitting here, trying to casually blend in with these formal f-
My rambling thoughts were cut off as the auditorium suddenly got dark, and a fanfare started playing across the PA system. The show was about to begin!
???
The main event at the Lodestar Labs Science Convention opened with an incredible display of sights and sound. A soundtrack played grand, epic music accompanied by a lightshow that mimicked the image of space, using negative space filled with colors and lights to make the walls and ceiling look like starclouds and nebulae. It was a fantastic show, and the audience loudly cheered with each change in scenery and music.
At the end of the show, a large holoscreen appeared suspended in the air above the stage, and a video began playing. It showed the first space station Lodestar ever launched, along with a voiceover by some woman with a soft velvety voice. Once the video was finished, a man in a strange suit and lab coat combo entered the stage and started talking about the history of Lodestar. Their biggest achievements, their most notable scientists and engineers, and finally, the Star Chart. I was entirely enthralled by the experience.
One after the other, teams of scientists or their designated spokesperson came out on stage and spoke about their current projects. None of them were even close to finish yet, but it seemed like Lodestar was building up towards something big. Something that would change everything.
And finally it came. A man dressed in a dark suit, with shiny shoes and styled hair walked out onto the stage, and everyone in the hall instantly recognized Orion Solomon, the owner and CEO of Solomon Industries. He was the biggest sponsor for this convention, as well as most everything that dealt with innovation and the future, in addition to plenty of other businesses. He owned the Andromeda Hospital, where Emily worked, among others. I didn¡¯t like him much.
¡°Good evening everyone!¡± The sound from the PA system blasted across the audience, drowning out any and all cheering.
¡°I would love to personally welcome you all tonight, to the Lodestar Labs main stage, where you will witness the future!¡± He flashed a bright smile and the audience cheered again.
¡°We know you have speculated, and we have heard the rumors. Yes, the dawn of a new era is here. Yes, it will change our society for the better! My dear audience, it is with great pleasure I introduce to you, The Well.¡± Mr. Solomon ended his speech low, and in the silence of confused people the stage once more lit up in a cascade of pyrotechnics, creating a glittering shower of sparks that fell from the ceiling, almost like stars falling to earth. It was beautiful and blinding.
While the sparks fell, a new presence took the stage. A tall, thin man, with a red tuxedo and tophat. His dark black hair was slicked back, and he walked out through the sparks in a jaunty dance, then spread his arms towards the crowd, and with a flash of white teeth he bowed deeply at the hip. Doing so perfectly revealed the machine that had been strategically placed behind him to the crowd, who in turn applauded wildly. A woman in a long white lab coat and black turtleneck stood beside the machine, looking like a mother caring for a child. She was shorter than the tophat wearing man, but not by much. Her demeanor, however, was quite the opposite of his. She wore a stern look on her face, coldly flicking her gaze across the audience, not seeming too thrilled about being there. Not many noticed her face though, people were too busy cheering for the man in front. The strangely familiar, tall and thin man, with the wide grin plastered across his face at all times. My heart nearly stopped.
That¡¯s him! The man I spoke with yesterday, at the intro meeting before the convention began! Shit, I knew he must have been important, but this¡ this sucks! I made such a mess of myself, and he¡¯s on the main stage?! I need to talk to Deimos, I-
I looked to the other side of the table, where Deimos would be sitting, but he was gone. I had no idea when he¡¯d left, but his seat was now empty, and I couldn¡¯t find him anywhere near our table. ¡°DEIMOS!¡± I shouted for him, but the crowd and the music made it impossible to hear anything. I was alone.
So I sat in my seat and anxiously looked back at the stage. Mr. Solomon was walking up to the smiling man now, holding two pairs of black glasses in his hands.
¡°What a show everybody, huh? We¡¯ve really gone all out for this one! Now, I believe introductions are in order. The man you see before you today might be a charming fellow, with the dance move to match, but don¡¯t let that fool you. He¡¯s actually a shy individual, so instead we will just use his title. Everyone, please meet The Director!¡±
The audience laughed and cheered. This was normal for some businesses. Someone might not wish to become a public figure just because they worked with a public company. There was even a system in place to make sure the people who used only titles, be it Heroes, government officials or business owners, didn¡¯t use the same titles as anyone else. It was neatly controlled by a government agency, paid for by tax dollars, and mostly used by people who wished to stay anonymous even when making a public appearance, like this one.
¡°And with him on this fine evening he has brought a most special scientist,¡± continued Mr. Solomon.
¡°She has her mothers eyes and looks, but most importantly, her mind for the impossible, the new owner of the esteemed title of The Doctor, Doctor Lucienne Astra!¡±
I froze.
Astra. The creator of the Star Chart. Her daughter? She had a daughter? Wait, new owner of the title¡ She¡¯s dead?! The news said nothing¡ She¡¯s been off grid for so long¡ I guess old age caught up with her.
The new Doctor Astra lifted a hand from her machine and waved stiffly at the crowd. Her frown was very slowly growing with each second the spotlight was on her. She looked almost angry when it left her to point back at Mr. Solomon and the Director, who stood on either side of a podium, looking like they were having a friendly chat. Mr. Solomon looked at the crowd, then gestured with his hands to the podium, inviting the Director to address the audience directly. He laughed and lifted his hands, palms out, in a placating manner, then took the podium. He smiled and laughed into the microphone, then took off his tophat and put it down in front of him.
¡°Hello! It¡¯s so good to see so many people here.¡±
His voice was smooth and gentle, and as soon as he spoke the crowd went silent. The baritone in the words soothed the ringing ears of everyone in the giant hall.
Everyone went silent.
¡°I can¡¯t put into words how amazing it feels to stand before you here today. The sparkle of your eyes and the flash of cameras taking pictures, it¡¯s all so bright. Just like the future.¡°
He spoke calmly, every word purposefully enunciated and clear.
¡°The Well is the future.¡± People began murmuring when he mentioned the strange name for the device behind him.
It had a cloth covering it, but it was easy to see it was large. Tall and round, with a protrusion sticking out from its zenith. The Director continued.
¡°The covered machine behind me is indeed the salvation to many of the problems humanity is facing in today''s society. Its purpose is to generate power that will be used for everything, from heating homes and fueling cars, to power machines that make our everyday lives grow just a bit easier, until no one has to live with less than what is right.¡±
The audience kept whispering during the rather impressive statement, but without the awe inspired tones it had before this. It seemed too good to be true, which in most cases meant it was.
¡°It¡¯s okay, I get it,¡± The Director took off from the podium with the microphone in his hand.
¡°The implications of what I¡¯m saying seems¡¡± he paused for a second, ¡°astronomically large, and therefore not entirely possible, am I right?¡±
There was a general murmur of agreement.
¡°The gravity of the situation is understandably difficult to grasp without¡¡± his smile widened as he approached a point he seemed awfully eager to reach.
¡°A demonstration!¡± He shouted the words, and raised his arms towards the machine. In that exact moment the large sheet covering the machine was pulled away, and the audience got a good look at The Well for the first time.
It was large. A perfect sphere, easily fifteen feet in diameter, made of some transparent material, placed on a square platform shaped to hold the sphere steady using an indentation in the platform, and a thousand small omni-directional wheels that spun whenever the sphere moved. As impressive as that was, the most interesting part was the sphere''s interior. Inside it, seemingly floating in midair, was a golden rod with ball bearings at each end. On the middle of the golden rod was a large plate, forming around the rod itself, separating the two halves. On the plate were several small indentations, like it was supposed to hold a whole bunch of balls on its own. They were empty.
Around the rod and the plate were another two separate circles of metal, one inside the other. They were disconnected from the rod itself, but floated inside the large sphere, perfectly aligned with the plate on the middle of the rod.
It was smaller than I had expected. I felt that a world changing invention should be more grand. Something that took one¡¯s breath away the second you saw it. I looked at the Doctor, Astra, as her name was. She was fiddling with a panel of some sort while speaking at someone I couldn¡¯t see. She looked agitated.
Overhead, on the first balcony, the press snapped a thousand pictures per second as The Director walked over to The Well. He stopped on the opposite side from Doctor Astra, and struck a pose like a game show hostess.
¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re all wondering exactly what you¡¯re looking at. In my experience even the most scientifically gifted among our teams have struggled with understanding The Doctor''s marvel of engineering, and as a result of that, no one really knows her creation but herself. So, it will be my pleasure to hand over this microphone and let her do the honors! Everyone, put your hands together for Doctor Lucienne Astra!¡±
The Doctor stared at The Director for a second, then quickly turned to face the crowd. She was not smiling.
¡°The Well is a gravitationally activated generator, reacting to the pull created by a hyper dense object placed within the sphere.¡±
Her words were barked out in short, quick bursts.
¡°The hyperdense object is placed on the plate in the center of the gyroscope inside the sphere. From there the process self-initiates as soon as we vacuum seal the sphere, and the spincycle starts up. The gyroscope will begin turning as soon as the hyperdense object is placed on it, however during the initial spincycle, it stabilizes as the gravitational force is bent around itself in a perpetual cycle that increases the sphere¡¯s CPS until it reaches a peak of around sixteen thousand cycles per second.¡±
The whole room was silent. Someone coughed.
The Doctor actually sneered at the crowd. She gripped the microphone so hard I could see her knuckles turning white, all the way from my seat.
I thought she looked angry, but I couldn¡¯t understand why.
Until I looked around. On the first floor most of the VIP guests weren¡¯t paying attention at the end of her extremely detailed and complicated explanation. They were more interested in their own devices than the amazingly intricate process that was laid before them.
Idiots. Do they not notice the one thing she isn¡¯t explaining?! An object so dense it has an orbit, at a human sized scale! Is no one hearing how that breaks every law of physics we know of?!
I looked from the other guests around me and back to Doctor Astra on the stage. She had been quiet for about ten seconds now, simply glaring out into the sea of eyes looking back at her. She lifted the microphone to her mouth again.
¡°This machine is going to generate so much electricity it could power all of Luxin City for a thousand years, and none of you would ever see an electric bill!¡±
The crowd of convention attendees on the balconies absolutely exploded into applause and cheers so loud they shook the room.
Down at my table the other guests were also now prying close attention to the stage, however their faces were anything but cheerful. I saw rage and disappointment on several faces, and even fear on others.
It¡¯s about money, I realized.
These people either work for or own some variant of an electric company, and now a huge part of their business is dead.
I smiled to myself. To me it seemed very appropriate. Power was beginning to shift, and those who were losing it didn¡¯t like that.
Welcome to my life, assholes.
The Director chose that moment to get back into the spotlight, and take the microphone back from Doctor Astra.
¡°What do you think about THAT, huh?¡± Again, the crowd exploded with sound.
¡°I am right there with you, my dear audience! Now, let¡¯s all thank The Doctor for her explanation,¡± and he graciously clapped his hands, ¡°and then get on with an actual demonstration! My dear Doctor, would you please go and bring the star of the show?¡±
I thought I caught a glimpse of intense shock on The Doctor''s face at that, but it happened so fast I couldn¡¯t be sure. I was still distracted about Deimos¡¯s absence, so much so that I missed the details of what happened next.
¡°Doctor Astra, everybody. Give her a round of applause! She will be right back with that mysterious ¡®hyperdense object¡¯ she spoke of, and we will show you just exactly how The Well works.¡± He made a silly face as he said ¡°hyperdense object¡±, and people laughed at his little good natured joke.
¡°While we wait for her return, I have a small confession to make,¡± The Director said flatly.
¡°I haven¡¯t been entirely honest with you all. No, I haven¡¯t lied about anything, we just played an innocent little trick. See, this Well here,¡± he gestured to the device behind him. ¡°This isn¡¯t really the finished product we hoped to show today. We were told the finished version of The Well would be impossible to bring with us, so we made a travel sized version just for today. The actual size of our magnificent machine is in fact quite a bit bigger. Around one thousand feet in diameter bigger! A whole building dedicated to just this one marvel of engineering! That is the truth, dear audience! Imagine the scale, the majesty, THE POWER!¡±
Huh?
I snapped back from wondering where Deimos had gone. What had The Director just said? His smile seemed¡ wider than before. Too wide.
¡°Just imagine it, no more cold winters, no more failing fuses, no more-¡± He was cut off as Doctor Astra came back on stage from the dark folds of the heavy curtains.
¡°Ah, well enough of that, time for the demonstration.¡± His voice was back to normal, and the mad grin was gone, replaced by a soft expression on his face.
That was¡ unusual. No one else seemed especially affected by his momentary change in demeanor. I sipped my drink and tried to calm down.
¡°Now that The Doctor is back I assume we can begin momentarily. First, a safety precaution however. For those of you in the balconies, you were all given a pair of black tinted glasses when you came in. Please put them on now. My dear guests on the main floor, our assistants will be handing out your glasses as I speak now, and you too should put them on as soon as you receive a pair.¡±
A woman in a shirt and black vest came to our table and started handing out glasses with completely black lenses. It was almost like they were painted. I put them on as soon as they were handed to me. The Director kept speaking.
¡°The effects of The Well as it starts working its magic is quite the sight to behold, for about four seconds, after which your corneas would be so burned by light you¡¯d be blinded for the rest of your life.¡±
I gulped and re-balanced the glasses on my face to better cover my eyes entirely.
Wait, if Deimos comes back now, he¡¯ll not have a pair of glasses! Shit, where IS he?!
The Director quickly continued after everyone had put on their shades.
¡°Excellent! Now we only need our-¡± a man ran on to the stage from somewhere on the side. He ran straight up to The Director and whispered something into his ear. The new man had a black suit on, with a thin black tie over a white shirt. He was not wearing any glasses. He did however have an empty gun holster on his hip.
After six seconds of whispering The Director leaned back from the man and looked over at Doctor Astra, who stared back at him. She lifted her arm, palm out, hand splayed out. She bent her thumb. A second later, her pinky. Then her ring finger. She was counting down. Middle finger went down. A boom came from deep in the building, then a rumble that shook the floor. The Director stepped forward.
¡°I¡¯m sorry for that everyone, there seems to be a slight delay righ-¡±
KA-BOOOM!!
The explosion was much closer this time. Tables fell over, glass shattered everywhere, and people immediately started screaming. All hell broke loose.
Then the balconies fell down on top of us. On top of me.
Deimos, where are you?
Chapter 3: Truth
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 185 lbs/84 kg
Mental Status: Unconscious
Physical Status: Unconscious
The void was dark, cold and vast. I floated through black unconsciousness for maybe no more than ten seconds, but it felt much, much longer. I was strangely aware of myself, being there, in the blackness. It felt good¡ safe. I enjoyed the sensation created by the lack of resistance in my movements, and while it was dark and cold, I was able to still see myself, and I didn¡¯t freeze. Small lights came into being. Either tiny and just out of reach, or enormous and far away, I couldn¡¯t tell, but they were warm. They lit up the void like hundreds of lightbulbs, more popping into existence as I was floating along. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Millions. They filled my vision, and soon there were so many of them they pushed away the darkness I enjoyed so much. The lights blinded me with their brightness, and their heat became too much. A whining noise filled the space and brought with it pain that made it hard to concentrate. I curled up in my void and tried to escape the noise and the light and the pain. From somewhere impossibly far away I heard a voice.
¡°Ashton!¡±
I closed my ears to it.
¡°Come on, Ash,¡± it shouted again.
I can¡¯t hear you. I don¡¯t want to wake up. There is nothing-
¡°ASHTON, WAKE UP!¡± I recognized the voice. Deimos?
I opened my eyes, and suddenly I was back in the real world. Fire burned everywhere around me. The only sound I heard was screaming people. Everything in my body hurt. I was still alive.
I looked around and saw what had happened. The balconies had collapsed on top of each other, falling to the first floor and crushing everything beneath them. Everyone beneath them. I remembered the sound of splintering wood as they fell, and trying to get away from under them. I had managed to crawl under the table I sat at, which may have been the only reason I had survived as uninjured as I had. The metal legs of the table were still standing, holding several pieces of still intact table on them. A line had been cleared in the rubble, and I realized Deimos must have pulled me out from under the table and moved me somewhere safer. The seats around the table were smashed. Blood was splattered all over the floor and up the wall. I looked away before I saw the bodies it must have come from.
¡°Are you okay? Can you move? Ashton, come on, man, I need you to work with me here!¡±
Deimos had been speaking at me while I had taken in the scene around us. I turned my head slowly towards him and just stared at him.
¡°Get it together, Ash, we need to move! This place is coming down on top of us, and we have exhausted all the potential luck we were ever supposed to be given. Get. Your ass. UP!¡±
I nodded once, then tried to move my legs. One of them twitched, while the left just laid there, unresponsive. Then the pain from the void hit me again. This time I screamed.
¡°My leg! Deimos, I can¡¯t move my leg! What the fuck is happening, where the fuck were you?!¡± I started babbling. The shock of the injury had kickstarted my system, and my brain jumped into overdrive to try to deal with the situation.
¡°You disappeared at the beginning of the show, and left me here with these¡strangers, to deal with on my own!¡± I was shouting at him, just as desperate as the screams of everyone else in the burning hall. Screams of people dying. I tried not to think about it. Instead I kept shouting at Deimos. Partly because anything less than yelling would be hard to hear, but mostly because I wanted to.
¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me when you left? One second you were there, and in the next you were gone! Where did you go?! Why did you leave me behind?! I was all alone, and I couldn¡¯t leave to look for you, because I had no idea where you went, and there were hundreds and hundreds of people in here, and¡ WHAT HAPPENED?!¡±
Deimos sat on his knees, still panting from the effort of pulling me from the rubble. He wore an intense look on his face, and there was a worry in it I couldn¡¯t place.
It didn¡¯t seem to be caused by our current situation, he was too¡ steady for that.
No, the worry in his eyes came from something different.
Something he¡¯d done. I took a second to actually look at him. Then I understood.
Deimos was not okay.
His suit was ruined. His sleeves had rifts and tears, his tie was shredded, the seams in his pants were split entirely, and there were holes in the jacket. Up by his shoulder, Deimos had a hole, with a giant red splotch of color around it. There was another identical hole in his side, right above his hip, and when I shifted to see better I saw another hole on the side of his back, like something had gone straight through him.
They were bullet wounds.
Then I saw the metal case.
A large quadratic case with two metal handles clicked together to form one solid handhold. It had four clasps on the same surface as the handle, and three of them were opened. The last one was closed.
All the clasps had a digital display above it, with four rows of numbers.
The first one read 0 1 1 2
The next one read 3 5 8 13
The third read 21 34 55 89
The fourth one had just one number in the first row. 144.
I stared at the metal case in horror.
I reached a hand out towards it. Deimos saw me reach for it and grabbed the handle before I could get it, then pulled it away from me. I looked from the case and back at him, and was met by a cold look in his eyes.
¡°Forget you saw that,¡± he said flatly. He didn¡¯t shout, or even yell, but I understood him well enough.
¡°It¡¯s just a metal case. Now, come on. We¡¯ve wasted enough time. We need to get out of here, fast! Several support structures have already collapsed, and the hall is too big to hold the ceiling without them. Sooner or later this place will be nothing more than rubble and crushed corpses, and I intend on becoming neither! So get up on your good leg, and LET¡¯S GO!¡±
I heard the words and understood what they meant, but I was too deep in my head.
Something in my mind was screaming at me, saying there was something I was ignoring. Something important.
I¡¯m usually very good at mental math, at least addition and subtraction as well as simple multiplication, from always having to calculate my budget at the start of every month. It gave me a sense of control over my life to see how much I was able to live on, and I enjoyed mastering the numbers on the screen without having to use a calculator.
I looked at the numbers on the metall case¡¯s locks again.
The next one is¡ 233, right?
I didn¡¯t get much time to think any more about that, because a new thought smashed itself into my head.. ¡°What did you do?¡± I asked Deimos.
¡°Answer me, Deimos. I¡¯m serious. Tell me what happened.¡±
He furrowed his brow and sneered at me. I had never seen him make a face like that before. It was as if I had suddenly become the source of all his problems, and now he was forced to face it all at once. It wasn¡¯t fair. He¡¯d left me! I was the one with no idea what was happening or why. He¡¯d been the one responsible for all this when he went and stole the super dense thing that was gonna¡ gonna¡ fuck. It hit me like a freight train.
All of a sudden I understood where he¡¯d gone and why he looked the way he did. He¡¯d somehow snuck backstage, then stolen the metal case containing the object that was supposed to function as the ignition of the machine on stage. There must have been some kind of struggle, given the state he was in. A struggle he¡¯d survived, despite having been shot at. How did it end? What did he do to get out of there?
I looked at Deimos with fresh horror now streaming down my eyes.
¡°You monster,¡± I whispered. ¡°YOU MON-¡± He slapped me, hard, right across my left cheek.
¡°Yes, I stole the core. I might also have killed a few security people. They knew what they signed up for, especially considering the people they worked for, trust me.¡± He caught himself as he said those last words, and grimaced before he kept talking. ¡°I realize that may have been an awkward turn of phrase, considering our current situation. I can tell you¡¯re in shock, Ash. Honestly, I get it. I¡¯d be pretty messed up too if my best friend had caused this kind of disaster. Luckily I didn¡¯t! Before you start throwing blame around, know that I¡¯m NOT responsible for this! All I did was steal the next tool for the super rich to oppress the poor.¡±
I stared at Deimos with wide eyes. ¡°It was gonna help! Electricity would become free!¡± My voice was raspy, and my throat was beginning to hurt with all the smoke around us. I was unable to choke down a couple of coughs. ¡°You¡¯ve ruined everything!¡±
Deimos sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. ¡°Here, see for yourself,¡± he said, and turned the metal case around so it was up-side down. On the bottom of the case, imprinted in the metal with big bold letters was a logo that read ¡®Solomon Industries¡¯, with the familiar image of an atom framing the words.
¡°You see, Ash? He already owns it, legally. There was never going to be any free electricity. They all knew it, the other companies and VIP¡¯s. They probably came to try and wrangle a contract to get their own Well from Solomon so they could keep making money off of people like you and me. Even the people at Eleqwik knew. This presentation is practically a fundraiser, in all but name and appearance. Do you wanna guess how much money Eleqwik was willing to cough up for the rights to a Well? They offered forty-nine percent of their market shares. Simply for the rights to use one. They were denied, however, because they weren¡¯t the only company that wanted it. All the other overdressed stiffs were here for probably the same reason as Eleqwik wanted me here. Sign a contract, or deny any other offer from ever reaching Mr. Solomon¡¯s ears. There was gonna be a meet-and-greet after the presentation. You¡¯d be able to meet The Doctor.¡±
Deimos shook his head slowly, then closed his eyes and sighed.
¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±
His voice was dry. All the smoke inhalation and that whole speech must¡¯ve affected his throat somehow, because before he could say anything else he began coughing violently, his body shaking with each cough. He was also still bleeding from the bullet wounds, which probably didn¡¯t help.
The sound of rocks clattering to the floor made us both look at the spot next to us, where a small pile of dust, dirt and rubble had started moving.
¡°His theory is correct, young man,¡± said a strained, feminine voice from beneath the rubble. ¡°I couldn¡¯t help but overhear your private conversation. Your friend is telling you the truth.¡±
The pile of rubble rose sharply, revealing The Doctor, clad in her lab coat, which was now stained and ruined by the debris she had been lying under.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
¡°Speak of the devil,¡± Deimos half whispered, conspiratorially. ¡°How long have you been under there?¡±
Doctor Luscienne Astra stood to her full height while trying to dust off her coat. She cleared her throat and looked at Deimos.
¡°Long enough to hear of your little adventure. It took me a few moments to regain enough motor functions to free myself, and during that time I caught enough of your little speech to understand most of the situation.¡± She then looked at me and gave me a quick once-over. Her gaze stopped first at my leg, then at my hands, and finally at my eyes. She stared hard into my eyes for what seemed like forever, but after only a second she looked away again.
¡°Ashton, correct?¡± She asked.
I nodded my head at her.
¡°Hm. Your friend is telling you the truth. The Well is indeed owned by Solomon Industries. However, that¡¯s not the whole story.¡± She stopped talking then and turned fully towards Deimos and the metal case. I tried to stand, but my leg wouldn¡¯t listen to me, and the pain from touching it was too much for me to pull it in any useful direction. Doctor Astra spoke again.
¡°You are lightyears out of your league here, thief. You may have been able to deal with the very human aspect of our security, but that is where this ends for you. Hand over the Vault.¡±
The Doctors words were cold and calm, and something about the way she stood belied a confidence in her ability to force her way in this situation, if she had to, despite her beaten and ripped appearance.
However, I wasn¡¯t paying attention to the situation unfolding in front of me. I was staring at the last digital lock on the metal case, and the one number was still glowing on it. 144.
I vaguely heard Deimos say something back at the Doctor, but their conversation had lost its meaning to me. All that mattered were the numbers. There was a pattern to them that I felt was somewhat familiar, but I just couldn¡¯t grasp how it all added up.
Added up? It¡¯s a sequence!
Subconsciously I think I had already figured that out when I recognized 233 as the next number in line.
233 plus 144 is¡ 377!
I was just one number away from being able to open the case. I had to know why that metal box was so important to so many people. For some reason all I could focus on through the smoke, pain and noise all around us was the contents inside that box. Deimos and The Doctor had moved slightly closer to each other, and The Doctor had pulled out some sort of remote from a pocket somewhere. Deimos was holding a hand to his side which had started bleeding from one of the bullet wounds. The situation was tense, but I paid them no attention. If I was right, and the sequence worked like I thought, I had the last number solved. I just needed to get a hold of the case, and keep it long enough to put in the last digits of the code while Deimos and the Doctor were busy. Then there was the chain around Deimos hand that secured it to the case as well, and I realized quickly that my problems were compounding fast.
I had to make a move soon. Doctor Astra seemed somehow very threatening despite her rather thin frame, and Deimos was bleeding too much to make whatever was going to happen last very long. I needed to make my move at the same time as either of them, and bet on them being too occupied by the other to notice me. I was also going to have to put weight on my very messed up leg that still wouldn¡¯t move, which was yet another variable I hoped would go my way. So many things could go wrong. I still needed to open that case.
I pulled my good leg under me, slowly, readying myself to spring into action at the first sign of distraction. I didn¡¯t have to wait long.
???
¡°You¡¯re bleeding. We can fix that, quite easily, make sure it¡¯s not infected and save you from a potentially slow and painful death.¡± Her words were cold and emotionless. She wasn¡¯t trying to persuade Deimos, at least from my perspective, she was just stating facts. Like she was delivering a report. Deimos had grown visibly paler during the time we¡¯d spent on the floor, despite all the ash and soot covering his face. His dark hair matted to his forehead in a cold sweat and his breathing was ragged. The Doctor on the other hand looked relatively good for someone who¡¯d just shrugged off a heap of debris that they were trapped under. If I was a betting man, I¡¯d give Deimos about a fifteen percent chance to overcome whatever The Doctor was planning, but then again, he was obviously good at hiding things. Even from his best friends.
Deimos coughed, and a splatter of blood hit the ground. ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances, Doc. Besides, I don¡¯t think my insurance covers¡ all this,¡± he said and gestured at himself with his free hand. I saw something more besides the flippant attitude though. Right after the bloody cough, Deimos had bent his legs at the knees, almost like he was halfway sitting, and he¡¯d switched the grip with which he held the metal case. It was now hanging in his fingers, as if he intended to throw the thing somewhere. The Doctor must have seen it too, because suddenly she raised her remote and punched several buttons in quick succession.
Despite Deimos¡¯s injuries, he reacted immediately. He half turned and raised his arm to throw the case away, but before he could finish the arch, something happened and he cried out in pain. The case flew from his hand, but landed merely a few feet from where they were standing, where it clattered across the floor and stopped when it hit a fallen support beam. It was approximately fifteen feet between me and the case, I surmised. Not really that far away, if you could properly put weight on your leg. It seemed like Deimos had wanted to throw the case much farther away, but when I looked at his hand I saw what had happened. His fingers and palm were bright red and the skin seemed ripped, as if he¡¯d been badly burned. The Doctor''s remote must have been some type of control device that activated the case in various ways, and she¡¯d wanted to force Deimos to let go of the handle.
The Doctor had turned to make a run for the case, but she wasn¡¯t fast enough to get away from Deimos, who had started running at her the moment he let go of the case. He cradled his hand while he delivered a full bodyweight kick straight into her abdomen that sent The Doctor right to the ground. She tried to get back up, but the momentum of the kick brought Deimos down with her and he landed heavily on top of her. He managed to knock the remote out of the Doctor''s hands before he began screaming. The Doctor had jammed her thumb into Deimos¡¯s side, right where he was shot. I saw an opportunity. I took it.
Pain shot up from my left leg and into my spine, as I pulled myself up into a low standing position. I managed to keep my mouth shut so I didn¡¯t alert the others. They were sprawled on the ground rolling around in an attempt to overpower the other. Deimos was clearly physically superior, however his injuries made his movements slow and weak, and The Doctor took advantage wherever she could. I looked away from them and gathered my focus. I had to use a hand to lift my still unresponsive leg, but it could at least carry some amount of weight without collapsing.
The biggest problem was the pain. Every step was like being shot in the spine, and I nearly chewed through the inside of my cheek as I slowly walked my way towards the distant case. I could deal with pain though. I was a magnet for bad luck as a child, banging my head on countertops, scraping my knees on gravel roads, falling off from tables in school. Okay, maybe not all bad luck, but painful nonetheless. I just had to take another five steps and I would reach my prize.
One step. A spike of pain shot through my hip.
Another step. The pain started seeping into my brain.
A third step. My vision blurred and I nearly vomited. I swallowed hard and refocused. There was just five feet between me and the case. I could see the numbers on the displays over each lock. The last lock still displayed only one number. 144.
I gritted my teeth and pushed off with my good leg, trying to reach as far as I could in one move. The little jump I managed was pitiful, and I fell over from the pulse of agony that came from the movement, but I successfully landed with one hand on the metal case with the super dense object inside. However, I didn¡¯t do it very quietly. As I landed face first on the ground I yelped in pain at the moment of impact, and I heard Doctor Astras and Deimos suddenly stop scuffling. I needed to be quick. There were no indications of buttons or any other manual input on the locks of the case, only the light from the displays and the locks themselves. I panicked for a moment, thinking I¡¯d made a horrible mistake not going for the Doctor''s remote instead, but quickly realized something else. The case was already close to open, and it had been in Deimos¡¯s hands before I woke up. He didn¡¯t have the remote, so he must have found a way to input the numbers as soon as he came to the next one in the sequence. I glanced over to where Deimos and the Doctor were, and found them now clambering to reach me, each pulling the other down and trying to be the first to get up.
¡°You can¡¯t open that case Ashton, you have no idea what you are doing!¡± Doctor Astra wasn¡¯t as cold and calculating in her speech anymore, but there was a deep certainty in her words, as if she knew what she said to be the undeniable truth. Deimos clamped his hand over her mouth then and shouted, ¡°She¡¯s right Ash, just hold on to that case until I knock this bitch out, then we can get out of here and go somewhere safe. Agh, fucking shit!¡± He pulled his hand back, a large bite mark covering one side of it. ¡°Who¡¯s the bitch now?¡± grunted the Doctor around a mouthful of blood. Her calm demeanor was gone, and in its place was steely determination to get to me before Deimos could. I had no more time to think about it, so I went with my gut and tried the one method I could think of to open the case.
¡°Two-thirty-three, three-seventy-seven, six hundred and ten!¡±
To my surprise a small click sounded from the last lock, followed by a slight hissing noise as the case separated in the middle. The fourth digital display now showed four numbers, 144, 233, 377 and 610. All the displays turned green as the case opened up. I had done it!
¡°STOP,¡± came from both Deimos and Doctor Astra at the same time, but I couldn¡¯t stop now. I pulled apart the two halves of the case and was momentarily blinded by a white light coming from inside it. A small orb, approximately the size of a large marble, was embedded in the middle, cradled by soft foam fabric. As my eyes adjusted to the light emanating from the bright orb I started noticing small details about it. I could see that swirling inside the orb was what seemed to me like liquid light, going in steady circles beneath the clear surface. The more I stared, the more nuances appeared in the light, and I saw hues of orange, blue and purple inside the swirling mass of the orb. It was beautiful. I picked up the orb, and held it between my thumb and index finger. It was surprisingly light for a supposedly ¡°super dense¡± object, and it was cool to the touch.
¡°Hey buddy, I need you to give that back, you hear me?!¡± Deimos was standing now, free from The Doctor''s grasp, who was lying on the ground, holding her arm. He looked anxious, holding both his arms out, palms up, in a very placating manner. He didn¡¯t move any closer to me though, which I found strange. He¡¯d fought so hard to regain control of the steel case, going so far as to get shot for it, but now that it was open he had suddenly grown cautious? Something felt wrong.
I looked around to check my surroundings, but nothing stood out to me. While I did, The Doctor slowly got up on her feet as well. Deimos had apparently broken her arm at some point, because she winced whenever it moved. She was glaring at me with desperation in her eyes.
No, wait, not at me. At the marble in my hand. Its light reflected in her eyes as they grew wide. Something I could only describe as fear passed over her face, but it was so quick I barely registered it. As soon as it appeared, it was gone, and Doctor Astra composed herself with what had to be trained ease.
¡°How did you open the Vault?¡± Her voice was crisp and clear, and every word she spoke was razor sharp. I heard her perfectly, as if she was standing right next to me, even though she was actually several meters away. She, too, was apparently unwilling to move any closer. I didn¡¯t know how to interpret that, so I ignored it for the time being. I opened my mouth to speak, but a fountain of blood spewing from my mouth took me by surprise. I felt no pain this time, but that didn¡¯t make me feel any better. That¡¯s probably not a good sign, I thought quietly. I wiped the blood from my mouth and tried to speak again, this time managing it without any interruptions.
¡°I like numbers,¡± I started. ¡°They¡¯re not like people. People are difficult. People can lie.¡± I pointedly looked at Deimos before turning my face towards The Doctor again. ¡°Numbers can¡¯t lie. A seven and a three will always make a ten, no matter how you try to twist it. This makes sense to me. Human behavior can be whatever people want it to be, and I don¡¯t understand how or why some people do the things they do.¡± I held the marble of light tightly in my hand as I spoke, trying to lift myself into a sitting position on the ground. I managed a half-sitting, half-lying position, with my good leg propped under my unresponsive leg. It was the only position I could manage without the use of both legs.
¡°Having said that, I don¡¯t think I could have cracked the code entirely by myself.¡± My voice felt raspy, and I had to push my words out, harder and harder for each sentence. ¡°Thanks, by the way,¡± I said and nodded at Deimos. He glared back at me, still unwilling to move.
¡°It took me a bit to figure out the sequence though. It¡¯s been a while since I took 6th grade math, but eventually I remembered something about a golden ratio, and then it clicked.¡±
The Doctor actually laughed at that, making a sound that contrasted her image so violently that I almost thought I¡¯d imagined it. I sounded like a mothers pride coming from seeing her child learning to walk. I didn¡¯t know what to do, so I just sat there, uncomfortably. Deimos glanced at her as well, also looking pretty uncomfortable. She stopped laughing after only a second or two, and the feeling of warmth vanished immediately, leaving only the cold and calculating stare I¡¯d come to realize was her standard expression.
¡°Right then, I will have to update any and all passcodes in the future,¡± she stated flatly.
¡°I likely would have done so anyway following this incident, but now I at least have a good excuse to make a properly complicated code for everything, so thank you, Ashton.¡± Her voice then dipped a few notes, and her expression grew more serious. ¡°Now drop the star back into the Vault, yes, the metal case, and lock it again. The procedure is the same, just say the numbers in the same order you did to open it.¡±
I lifted the bright marble in my hand, and looked at the metal case, or the Vault as she called it. I was not about to do as she said, but I didn¡¯t exactly have a lot of options. Something in my body had stopped functioning, because I no longer experienced any pain anywhere, and the world around me felt cold. It was like I had stepped one foot back into the Void from before, when Deimos had pulled me from unconsciousness, only this time there was no coming back. Wait a second, what did she call it¡?
¡°Sorry about this, Ash,¡± was all I heard before Deimos suddenly acted. He sent a kick straight into The Doctor''s side, then wrestled the remote control for the Vault out from her hands while she was doubled over in pain. I panicked as he started running, but there was nothing I could do. My good leg didn¡¯t have enough strength to lift me by itself, and there was no way I could crawl away fast enough. That''s assuming I¡¯m not already past the point of surviving this to begin with.
Deimos was almost upon me when he veered to the side, and I realized he wasn¡¯t going for me. He was going for the case.
Is he trying to avoid touching it directly?
The marble was still shining in my hand, held between my thumb and index finger. It swirled steadily. I had a thought, but hesitated, not knowing if my choice was in any way safe.
Deimos had picked up the metal case by that point, and was slowly inching his way towards me. I tried to glare angrily at him, despite my exhaustion. ¡°Sorry about what? All of this? The dead convention goers? The fact that you¡¯re clearly preparing to do something violent again? Or are you sorry for lying to me this whole time?¡± I spat the last words at him, and he stopped moving closer. His eyes flicked between my face and the marble in my hand.
¡°I¡¯m sorry that I lied to you,¡± he sighed. ¡°Honestly, I really am. If you¡¯d just come along with me when you first woke up, we¡¯d have been fine. I didn¡¯t want you to end up like this. However, that thing in your hand is more important than that. More important than anything right now.¡± He held out the Vault to me, open, so that I could just reach out and put the marble back inside it. ¡°So put it back in the case, and let me help you get out of here, before something even worse happens.¡± I kept glaring at him, not doing as he said. In the back of my mind I was racing through thoughts to find a different solution. It wasn¡¯t looking good.
¡°Please, Ashton. Just put it back, and I¡¯ll do anything you say. Answer any question. I promise,¡± he told me with a smile.
¡°Really?¡± I asked.
¡°Really,¡± he answered.
I reached up with my hand, holding the marble in front of my face, ready to put it back in the case. ¡°Thank y-¡± was all Deimos said before I popped the marble into my mouth and swallowed as fast as I could.
Chapter 4: Fire
Ashton Etrigan
AgeCurrent MassMental StatusPhysical Status: Dying
¡°Ash, stop-¡± was all I registered before my senses were ripped away from me.
The moment I felt the marble pass my tongue a ripple of incredible pain passed through my body, and my mind blanked out. I was deafened and blinded for the longest second of my life, before everything came rushing back to me in a wave of consciousness. With that consciousness came more pain. A tidal wave of agony and suffering like nothing I had ever experienced before, crashing into and passing over me in a violent stream of never ending despair. However this was an entirely new form of pain, completely alien to all my senses. Regular pain from a scraped knee, a broken bone or an internal bleeding I was familiar with. I had injured myself plenty as a child, and with the amount of time I had spent at the gym it had been inevitable I¡¯d get hurt at some point. This was new, however. My limp leg and fried nervous system from the explosion paled in comparison, and I felt my jaw expand as my mouth started to scream all on its own. Every muscle flexed uncontrollably, making me spasm on the ground, unable to do anything else. Inside I was screaming, howling in horror at what was happening to me, but on the outside I was quiet. My lungs had run out of air, and I was unable to inhale any more to further fuel my agonizing shrieks. Still my mouth was locked in a silent shout, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I believe I passed out multiple times during the full minute it took the marble to travel down my esophagus and embed itself in the deepest pit of my stomach. It stopped there, and I could feel it twist itself into my flesh while radiating more of the pulsing force that was wreaking havoc on my body. I wanted to escape, to somehow make it all stop, but my body wouldn¡¯t do anything but twist on the ground. I must have broken every bone I had, lying there, writhing in blind torture. There was no escape from my own actions, no way to lessen the pain. Except for the void. My void from when I¡¯d been unconscious after the explosion. It would be cold and dark inside the void, and I¡¯d be able to ust float there in comfort, and escape from the burning torment of consciousness. Yes, the void was safe, and cold, and there would be no pain there, and I could stay there, alone, for as long as I wanted. I could stay there forever. It was so close. I would stay safe and alone, forever. I just had to give up. If I just closed my eyes and let go, I¡¯d be there, in my void. Alone. Forever.
Forever sounded like a very long time.
I opened my eyes. I must have almost passed out again, because I couldn¡¯t remember closing them. I had no idea how long I¡¯d been on the ground, but as I twisted around I noticed I was alone. Or, as alone I could have been with several other people crying out for help in the distance. I also needed help. I had very nearly died just now, but something had pulled me back from the edge. Something had helped me. I thought it was just my own determination for a second, but quickly realized I would have given up long ago in any similar circumstance.
A fresh wave of pain flowed through me, coming from deep in my stomach, and reaching all the way into my fingers and toes. It reached my face, and I swear my eye sockets vibrated in my skull, except the intensity of the pain had changed somehow. I no longer felt like I was unable to move because of paralyzation, but rather because I didn¡¯t feel a connection between my brain and my limbs. I could move my head and eyes, but nothing else responded. The pain itself wasn¡¯t making me soundlessly scream anymore either. It was still agony beyond anything I had ever endured, but somehow I was getting used to the feeling of wave after wave of energy that came from the strange marble.
I started to think I would be alright. I thought that if I could just endure this for a little longer, then surely the pulsating pain would subside, and I¡¯d be able to call for help, and then perhaps at that time the rescue operations would have begun. I would be saved.
Stolen novel; please report.
I was wrong.
The pain did subside. I managed to lift my head from the dirt, and I was able to take in my surroundings properly. I saw my arms, lying limply on either side of my body, twisted in strange directions, and rotated may more than any joint would naturally allow. I turned my neck as hard as I could, and winced as the movement made something in my back start to prickle. I saw my good leg, however, or rather what once used to be my good leg. My knee was twisted all the way around, my foot was facing the wrong way while bent in an impossible upwards angle. A splinter of something white had pierced the pant leg, and embedded itself in my thigh, right above the ruined knee. I couldn¡¯t move anything below my neck. I couldn¡¯t really feel anything below my neck either, at least not on the outside. Only my insides burned.
Oh, so that¡¯s why the pain got better. I must¡¯ve broken something in my spine. This is very bad.
I looked back up towards the ceiling, and the sky beyond it. Stars speckled the night sky, and I thought I at least would feel comforted by them while I laid there, pulsating slower and slower. I realized I probably wouldn¡¯t survive until any rescue came along, and even if I did, I wouldn¡¯t make it to the hospital. I felt strangely at peace with that. Then Emily wouldn¡¯t have to see me like this, and there would be no guilt for her in trying and failing to revive my lifeless body. She would be alone though, and it would be mostly my fault. If I had just let Deimos or Doctor Astra take the shiny marble then I wouldn¡¯t be lying here. I wouldn¡¯t be experiencing the guilt of leaving my sister all alone in the world with no one to talk to at home about all the little things that made her life special. I would just be living with a different kind of guilt. The guilt of not having done something that might have been the most important thing in my whole life. Which one was worse? I didn¡¯t know.
I didn¡¯t get the chance to find out either, because a massive wave of force suddenly exploded inside me. I went from slowly exhaling my last breath to gasping for air and screaming louder than anything I have managed before. The energy felt hot as it flowed into my broken arms and legs, and the heat stayed after the wave had passed. It grew as another wave hit, and I felt bubbles starting to form inside my flesh, little pockets of air created by perspiration that instantly evaporated as a result of the growing heat. My blood was boiling. My lungs were tearing up, and with each exhale more black smoke escaped my throat. I was vomiting soot and ash mixed with blood, and it scorched my tongue as it passed my dried up lips. I heaved and coughed, and with every intake of air the fire grew in my stomach. Burning, painful, unending fire, coming from deep within my own core, and spreading out further and further, like a furnace that was heating up the floors and walls of a building with way too efficient fuel. I was screaming again, but my vocal cords were burnt away, and I had no voice to use. I could vaguely hear the steaming whistle of my blood boiling away inside my veins until the veins themselves began melting. The sensations were maddening, and I could feel my eyes twisting in my skull until the nerves were torn apart, and I lost vision in the left eye. I could still see out of my right eye as the fire emanating from the marble in me burned away my flesh, and melted what was left on the muscle and sinew that held my body together. Then I lost sight completely as my eyes melted in my skull, running down my cheeks like destroyed purple eggs. My teeth exploded and shredded my lips to bits, but I didn¡¯t bleed at all. All my blood had turned to red vapor. My bones cracked loudly, and the spasming and twisting in my limbs resumed for a second or two, as the remaining parts of me beneath the skin was taken by the fire, and turned to dust. My organs were gone, my muscles melted, my blood evaporated, and my bones turned to ash, by the power of a shining marble I had swallowed.
The whole process lasted maybe twenty seconds, until it eventually reached my heart, and blew it out of my chest, leaving a hole large enough for a fist. As the last burning pulse of energy ran through me I thought it was weird how I still felt all these sensations, after my entire nervous system was erased by fire, and how strange it was that my brain was left untouched, almost as if it existed in a bubble of safety while the marble did its thing. The last thing I remember before darkness took me was the feeling of extreme hunger coming from the pit of my stomach, where the marble had embedded itself in me. Then the feeling went away, and I was dead.
Chapter 5: Decisions
Chapter 5
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: XX lbs/75 kg
Mental Status: N/A
Physical Status: Dead
Being dead isn¡¯t as bad as most people would have you believe. I was back in the void where it was cold and quiet. There were no voices, no panicked people running around, no fire or dangerously falling debris, and nothing that could impose upon my tranquility. In my void there was peace, and it felt more real in there than most of my life ever had.
I thought back on my years at school, never really figuring out how to do what people expected of me, or how to connect with the average student. Then later, as I was starting to make a life for myself, both socially and professionally, I had no idea where to go. It took years to figure out what I wanted from life, and once I did there was too much other stuff in the way to pursue my actual interests in any way that would be significant to my future. It made my life feel¡ fake. Like it wasn¡¯t my life, but rather some carbon copy of someone else¡¯s existence. Everything I did felt meaningless and boring, even if it was somewhat aligned with an interest or talent I had, and it all culminated in my lack of faith in people, other than a few special people, like Emily¡ and Deimos.
Emily loved her life, despite the challenges and difficulties it presented her. Her work gave her joy, and she took that joy and spread it out into the world. She was genuine in everything she did, unlike most everyone else in the world. She was real, and in my eyes that mattered, given the feeling of dissociation I had towards my own life and most people in it. Almost every time I met a person I struggled to care about the things they said and did, because it all felt so mundane and monotonous. It was always the same thing, they missed their childhood, and sought ways to recapture that nostalgia through old stories, music or family, or they wanted children of their own to care for, or they did nothing but work everyday, which turned them into another mindless drone, incapable of making any significant impact on anything, anywhere.
Waste of space and air, all of them, and not at all real, in my eyes. Not like me or Emily¡ or The Doctor and her machine, The Well. And there was The Director, he felt real. As real as the emptiness I was floating in right now, feeling untethered to responsibilities and expectations for the first time in a long time.
I bet Emily would love a moment to herself like this, and not have to worry about all her responsibilities all the time.
Actually, she¡¯d probably get anxious after only a couple of minutes of not having anything to do. She doesn¡¯t have the patience to just float and enjoy the quiet and soothing nothingness. Man, she¡¯s gonna hate being dead¡
So, I¡¯m dead, huh. This is death. Or maybe just the stretched out moments before my existence ends? Is this where I¡¯m supposed to see all my memories flash before my eyes? Gotta say, kind of unimpressive, all things considering. Don¡¯t get me wrong, the Void is preferable to the pain and suffering caused by that damn marble. Only, maybe not if I have to stay here¡ forever.
I admit, swallowing the thing was perhaps not the greatest idea of all time, but I couldn¡¯t just do nothing. The Doctor said all kinds of insane things, and Deimos too acted like it was the most important thing on the planet. I really hope what I did was a good thing, at least for everyone else. Maybe Emily would be proud of me, and give me that genuinely positive smile of hers as she hears about what happened. Someone would tell her everything, right? Deimos¡ oh, maybe not. It¡¯d just be her at the funeral then. All by herself¡
I don¡¯t want to be dead.
Hey Void, let me back out! I know I said I like it here, but I can¡¯t stay here forever! I have important things to do! I can¡¯t leave my sister all alone right now, she doesn¡¯t deserve that.
Hello?
GREETINGS, ASHTON ETRIGAN
Gah, wh- holy shit, who said that?!
There was someone else in my void, or rather, something else, lurking around somewhere in the dark outside of my reach. The voice I¡¯d heard was strange, almost as if it didn¡¯t have a specific source, but instead came from everywhere all at once. It also didn¡¯t have a distinguished male or female sound to it, because it didn¡¯t really make ¡°sound¡±. It was more like a vibration in space that I could somehow interpret as words.
¡°...¡±, I tried speaking, but I wasn¡¯t able to produce any sound on my own, and even the physical components to speech seemed impossible, as I realized I couldn¡¯t move my lips at all. In fact, I wasn¡¯t sure I even had lips to begin with, out here in the void. Given those facts, I instead made an attempt with what had already worked once, and pushed my thoughts out as I made them, like a telepath would do.
Hello? Is anyone there?
GREETINGS, ASHTON ETRIGAN
Again the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.
Uuuh, who are you?
MY IDENTITY IS UNIMPORTANT RIGHT NOW. THERE ISN¡¯T MUCH TIME BEFORE YOU CEASE TO EXIST ENTIRELY. PLEASE MAKE A DECISION.
The voice spoke unhurriedly, without any emphasis to its soft words, which made the message they held seem somewhat unimportant despite their nature. It took me a few seconds to even process the information fully, and grasp what was happening to me. Apparently I wasn¡¯t completely out of life yet, just extremely close to the end of that line between the world of the living and what comes after. I guessed I must have escaped to some form of mental safe space to not go insane from the experience I¡¯d just had, where it was calm and cool, and I could be comfortably alone for a little while. That little while, however, was about to become not so very little after all, if the voice¡¯s words were trustworthy. It could be hard to believe someone, or something, whose identity was ostensibly unimportant.
Okay, so I¡¯m not all dead¡ yet. But how is that possible? And what do you mean, what kind of decision are you talking about? My body is broken, I can never function as a human ever again. How is that supposed to be a life worth living? Why would I want to go back to that, my life was enough of a burden as it was, and we don¡¯t have the resources to fix anything as it is. It would be better to stay here, wouldn¡¯t it?
Silence filled the space around me.
Hello?
No one and nothing answered me. I was back to being alone in the void, endlessly floating in my personal pocket of lonely existence.
¡ please be there? I don¡¯t want to be alone, not really. I guess it just feels easier that way, but to be honest, I would never have gotten even this far on my own. I don¡¯t know why or how, but I¡¯m bad at talking to most people, especially when I feel like they¡¯re not really..real, and I realize how that sounds, but what am I supposed to do?
So I¡¯m by myself alot. Perhaps not always physically, but very much mentally. I have very few truly enjoyable interactions with people, and I would love to have more, but I just can¡¯t seem to connect with most people. Only Emily, my sister, a couple of friends from my youth, and Deimos, my best friend, have I been able to really feel connected to. Except Deimos lied to me. Maybe not for long, but it was a pretty big lie, and I don''t know how to feel about it. It led me here, wherever here is, and to you, whatever you are. I heard what the Doctor said, what she called you, but I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m ready to face that reality. If I die, I won¡¯t have to, right?
The void had grown dimmer by now, and I could no longer see myself as clearly as I could before. The comfortable cold floating sensation was slowly being exchanged for a sinking feeling, like when you get that sinking feeling in your stomach when you realize something that scares or worries you, except I felt it everywhere. My arms were getting heavier, my legs were bent at the knees, and I couldn¡¯t straighten them out, and I was so very heavy. I realized I was shivering, not out of fear or anxiety, but from freezing. I shouldn¡¯t be shivering. Shivering was a sign the body was trying to heat itself up, which in here would be pointless. I didn¡¯t want to be in the void anymore.
Except, I really don¡¯t want to die. Just like I don¡¯t really want to be alone all the time. I want to live, and have friends, and do things that bring some form of joy to myself and those around me. I want a proper life, full of experiences and memories, good or bad. I want to be happy, and I want Emily to be happy. Truly happy. And I want to eat more real food. Lots and lots of it.
As my last thought left my mind I knew I had decided, and the only thing left to do was wait.
For what could be anything from four seconds to four thousand years, nothing happened. Silence filled the space like an oppressive force, like gravity, but instead of pulling me down to the earth, it pressed in on me from all angles simultaneously. It was a strange sensation, but not all together uncomfortable. It was like I was being wrapped in a large ball of cotton.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Then, all of a sudden, the void rumbled, and a new, sort of larger voice vibrated around me.
ASHTON ETRIGAN. YOU HAVE THE POTENTIAL FOR GREAT HUNGER.
That was all I managed to comprehend before the rest of the words became spikes of bright agony that pierced my mind until my vision went blurry, and then blank. The void transformed again, like before, when Deimos pulled me out from my unconsciousness, but this time it didn¡¯t happen gradually. One second it was dark, cold and quiet, and in the next there were lights and noise everywhere, and I was being pulled along the floor by someone in a bright orange uniform, with tufts of long, black hair sticking out from under a large mask that covered their mouth and face, with tubes coming out of it and running over their shoulder into a tank on their back.
They were pulling me by my arms, who for some reason were bare from the elbow down, and more straight than what I could remember from last time I was conscious. My vision swam, and I lost focus again, but not before I noticed a giant syringe, with the thickest needle I¡¯d ever seen, jutting out of my right thigh, plunger shoved all the way down. I heard several strong voices shouting above and around me, and as I once more closed my eyes and started slipping into unconsciousness, I heard the person dragging me yell out to someone far away.
¡°Miss Etrigan, I think I found him! He¡¯s badly injured and needs treatment, immediately!¡±
Oh good. My sister is here.
???
This time there was no void. One second I was being pulled across the floor by a blond stranger, the next I was waking up to soft beeping noises, lying on a very comfortable bed, covered in the softest sheets I had ever felt. It was like waking up inside a cloud, apart from the splitting headache I got once I opened my eyes and saw nothing but white. After only a few seconds my eyes adjusted, and I was able to make out the blurry sight of fluorescent tube lights that dotted the ceiling of the room I was lying in. The lights were circular, like someone had twisted the fluorescent tube like a balloon animal, and shone with the uniquely clinical vibe that only hospital lights could. I started to look around as my eyes continually grew more focused, but I was suddenly reminded of something, and I had to stop and blink furiously for several seconds.
I can see!? How!? My eves melted from the inside out, how am I seeing anything in here right now? How am I even here? Where is ¡°here¡±? Where did all the pain go?
Those questions, and hundreds more swirled around in my mind as I started inspecting every inch of my body. I discovered I could move my arms and legs, but they were extremely sore, and each twitch made small tingles flare up in the nearest joints, so I decided not to push too hard, like getting out of bed or anything like that. I ran my hands through my hair, which I discovered I still had, then kept going down across my face, over my eyes, nose and lips, even going inside my mouth to check that I still had teeth.
I kept going, down to my chest where I found a white patch above my heart, with a line stretching from it to the softly beeping machine next to me. I checked my stomach and nether regions, finding everything where it should be, then I checked both my arms and legs individually. Nothing was broken in my limbs, and I honestly felt good apart from the active prickling coming from everywhere I touched. It was like that feeling when your foot falls asleep, except it was my whole body that was now finally waking up after a very long time. It was more annoying than painful, but at the moment I¡¯d take even more pain over not having my arms legs, and generally being alive. A loud sigh escaped my mouth as I leaned back into the pillows that were propped up behind my back, and I basked in simple sensations flowing through me.
I had been laid back for maybe a whole twenty seconds before I heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching from outside the door of the room I was placed in. Someone slammed hard into the door and nearly knocked it off its hinges as they tore it open, and suddenly I was faced with the frazzled features of someone who clearly had spent too much time without sleep. A pair of bloodshot pale blue eyes and sandy blond hair tied into a messy bun was all I had time to see before she jumped straight into my hospital bed and wrapped her arms around my neck. I nearly choked, but as soon as I saw who it was I just put my hand on her head, and let her hold onto me while she sobbed hard enough to shake.
¡°Hey, Em. It¡¯s okay, I¡¯m alright. Look at me, hey, shhh,¡± I pleaded with my sister as she just held on tight.
¡°I¡¯m awake now, and I feel fine. I can move all my fingers and toes, and, shh shh, look, I¡¯m talking, that¡¯s a good sign. I can hear you and see you, and I can very much smell how much you need a shower and some rest, but that¡¯s okay, I¡¯m very happy to see you.¡±
The sound of my voice must have helped, because after another sob or two she lifted her head and looked me over. Tears were freely streaming from her eyes, leaving wet stains on the sheets, but I didn¡¯t care. I was just happy to see her.
¡°Are you okay, Em?¡± I tentatively asked her as she kept inspecting my face. She was still crying a little while she looked me over, but her sobs had at least shrunk to just small sniffles. She answered my question by punching me in the shoulder, not hard, but like she would if I was acting like a smartass, or whenever I would be particularly annoying. I felt the punch land, but I just laughed softly and waited for her to speak. Besides, it didn¡¯t even hurt one bit.
¡°You don¡¯t get to ask me if I¡¯m okay or not! I¡¯m not the one that was caught in some stupid explosion that collapsed a whole building!¡± She yelled at me, in the way people do when they still don¡¯t know if what they see is real or not, and they want to alleviate some pent up stress. I decided it was best to just let her talk.
¡°I feared the worst when I saw the news on my phone. I got in the car and broke every speed limit in the galaxy to get to you, but when I arrived the building had already collapsed, and there was nothing but smoke in the air and¡ bodies on the ground. I didn¡¯t even have time to park before some EMT from the hospital recognized me and handed me a defibrillator, then pushed me towards the triage tents.
¡°There were so many injured people I had my hands full constantly, but all I wanted to do was look for you. I told everyone I could get a hold of what you looked like in that stupid suit Deimos got for you, and they said they¡¯d look out for you, but I could see in their eyes they thought I was crazy to keep hoping. I nearly broke down when that guy pulled you out, but I wasn¡¯t able to stay with you. There were too many injured.
¡°Besides, they put you in an ambulance and took you here immediately. I was told you were critically injured, and had clinically died one time already, before someone defibbed you, and they couldn¡¯t treat you on site so they brought you to the emergency room as fast as possible.
¡°I wasn¡¯t allowed to see you for several days after, but some of the other nurses who were in the operating room with you have been telling me all kinds of weird stuff while you were unconscious.¡±
I was caught off guard by how fast she fell back into her habit of spewing words like a waterfall, and I barely caught all the details of what she was saying. I was still feeling pretty messed up all over, but I didn¡¯t want her to worry, so I just sat and listened to her tell me about all the things she¡¯d had to do that night.
Apparently a lot of people from the outside had come to help in the triage tents, and hundreds of people had helped with everything from blankets and water bottles to carrying the injured out of the building. I quietly wondered how many out of the thousands of spectators had made it out of the burning ruins of the conference hall. Then I thought about Deimos, and how hurt he¡¯d been after the ordeal with Doctor Astra. I was still conflicted in my feelings towards his betrayal, because I was still angry at him, but at the same time I wanted to know if he was okay or not. I decided to ask Emily if she knew anything, but not right away. Then I had another more pressing thought.
¡°Hold on, days? As in multiple of them!? How long have I been unconscious?¡± I nearly shouted at my sister.
¡°Hey, not so loud! You¡¯ve been in a coma for the past three days, due to the physical trauma you experienced. It¡¯s honestly a mystery how quick you woke up, considering your injuries and probable mental state. Every other patient in a similar condition to yours when we took you in still hasn''t woken up, and isn''t expected to do so for another four to five days,¡± Emily calmly explained.
I looked incredulously at her, and I almost started yelling at her for almost forgetting to mentions something so important, but I was interrupted before I could even begin as a different nurse came in through the open door, holding a tray with what looked like a bowl of steaming hot soup, and a cup of water. She wore a sign on her chest with the name ¡°Jainey¡± printed on it, as well as the logo for the Andromeda, the hospital that Emily worked for.
¡°Oh, finally. Here, I ordered this when I saw you were awake and asked Jainey here to deliver it when it was ready. It¡¯s a light stew with potatoes, carrots and beans, with some added protein and sodium tablets. Open up,¡± she ordered as she grabbed the tray from Jainey and started feeding me.
I was about to protest, but forgot my annoyance immediately when I smelled the food in the little bowl. I hadn¡¯t noticed it yet, but the fact was undeniable; I was starving. After the first spoonful of stew I grabbed the bowl from Emily¡¯s hands and started shuffling the contents into my mouth, swallowing spoonful after spoonful with tremendous speed.
¡°Hey, take it easy, you¡¯re still not fully healed, and we have no idea how fragile you are right now. Here, drink some water and slow down. We can get more if you¡¯re still hungry later,¡± Emily hurriedly said as I had nearly emptied half the bowl in a few seconds after taking it from her hands. Something she had said earlier got me thinking, however, and I swallowed my last spoonful of stew while I looked down at my arms and bare chest. I looked fully healed, and I felt honestly pretty fine. There was no IV anywhere on me, and no saline bag anywhere either, only the patch that connected me to the heart monitor machine.
¡°In what way was I injured, exactly? When they found me, I mean,¡± I asked her curiously. I still wasn¡¯t entirely sure about what had happened to me in the Void, or what it meant that my body was healed and functioning again. I needed to know more, but to find out I had to twist the truth, just a little, in the hopes that Emily would tell me what happened while I was unconscious. It was worth a shot, so I kept talking.
¡°I remember mostly what happened at the convention, all the work we did the first day, and the things we got to look at during day two, all the way up to the main presentation. That¡¯s where some things start getting fuzzy,¡± I told Emily. She sat and watched me, but said nothing, waiting for me to finish before answering my initial question.
¡°I remember the explosion, but just barely,¡± I continued. ¡°Then I was in and out of consciousness, and I see only darkness when I try to recall what I saw whenever I came to.¡± This wasn¡¯t a complete lie, but I decided it was best to leave out the gory details, and everything related to Deimos and the marble, for now.
¡°The last thing I remember is the masked face of the person who pulled me out of there before I blacked out again, and then I guess I woke up here. And then you came,¡± I finished with a small smile. Emily sighed and looked down for a second, then back up, into my eyes. I could tell she was relieved, but there was also a twinge of something else behind her bright blue eyes. Worry? Some form of unease? Fear?
¡°Look, Ash,¡± she started, then cut herself off. She took a deep breath and looked conspicuously around the room. Jainey had left us after del?ivering the bowl of soup, and we were alone in the brightly lit room. The only sound in the room was the soft beeping coming from the heart monitor that was stationed next to my bed. I was about to say something, but Emily put a hand over my mouth and hit me with a hard look. I looked at her questioningly, but she ignored me and walked over to the beeping machine. She picked at some of the cords and cables that were hooked into it, then followed the line from the patch on my chest all the way to where it was attached to the machine. Then she pulled it out.
I sat in my bed, looking expectantly at Emily, waiting for her to say or do something else. It took almost a full ten seconds of her just staring at me before I noticed what was wrong. The machine was still softly beeping steadily, except it was no longer connected to my pulse. As soon as I realized what was happening, I looked down at the patch on my chest, where the cable was still embedded presumably by an electrode or needle, and carefully peeled it off my skin.
It came off without any issue, because it turned out it was simply glued to my chest, without any form of measuring instrument actually reading any signals from my body, such as my pulse. I looked from the patch to Emily, then to the machine which was still beeping steadily, and then back to my chest.
¡°I¡¯ll tell you what I know, just don¡¯t freak out,¡± Emily said as she locked the door.
Chapter 6: Something Aint Right
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 165 lbs/75 kg
Mental Status: Shaken
Physical Status: Weakened
In all honesty I was already a little freaked out by the fake heart monitoring, but calmed down easily enough when I considered the events in the Void. I told myself I should be way past freaking out at this point, having already experienced enough weirdness to last me until old age over the last couple days. I still wasn¡¯t entirely certain that everything I had experienced in the Void was actually real, but I understood by Emily¡¯s words that the things that had occurred during my three day coma would sound pretty crazy, which actually made me feel weirdly validated.
¡°First of all, this is just between you and me, Ash. You shouldn¡¯t tell anyone about what we talk about in this room, not even Deimos,¡± Emily began.
No worries there, I thought to myself, while I nodded my head at her. As she spoke she was also peeking her head out into the hallway outside, presumably to check if there were any other people in the vicinity that could overhear whatever she was about to tell me. She turned back to me and took a small calming breath before she started.
¡°I don¡¯t know all the specifics, but I¡¯ll tell you what I¡¯ve gathered from bits and pieces here and there. As I told you, they kept us apart while they examined and treated you, and to be honest I¡¯m not actually supposed to be with you yet. I pulled some strings with a few nurse friends, and even old Mrs. Solomon was kind enough to cover for me, so I could be the first one there when you woke up.¡±
I nodded along with her words, thinking it all sounded pretty reasonable so far. I¡¯d heard about old Mrs. Solomon before, and the lady was seemingly nothing like her son, the Business Man. Emily was speaking slower than normal, seemingly intentionally trying to slowly build up the suspense.
¡°Even so, I managed to find out a couple of pretty weird things, one of which you¡¯ve sort of already seen yourself, so I guess I¡¯ll start there.¡± She said while she gestured to the still softly beeping heart monitor machine next to me. ¡°You don¡¯t really have a pulse.¡±
I blanched. Up until this moment I had thought I would be able to handle any weirdness she could throw my way with at least a modicum of composure, but with just one short sentence Emily had managed to completely stomp out any confidence I had about my own preparedness. I didn¡¯t have much time to react, because more words started pouring out from Emily, as her characteristically quick speech resumed.
¡°No pulse is usually a pretty bad sign, right, but don¡¯t worry, the doctors are pretty sure you¡¯re not in any immediate danger. You''ve been breathing steadily the whole time you were unconscious, and you healed like any other person does, albeit at an increased speed. Additionally, there is a humming sound coming from your stomach. It¡¯s very faint, and could only be measured by a spectrogram, but no one has come up with any theories as to what it could be.¡±
Emily¡¯s initial recounting of what was going on with me went from casual to professional in the way she presented it very quickly. In just one sentence she¡¯d fallen into her nurse habits, and told me what was going on like I was just another one of her patients, which I guess I was, really. She¡¯d pulled out a little notepad with a ton of small scribbles separated by dotted lines, and quickly read the second line.
¡°I¡¯m not exactly sure about the details of most of these, but I¡¯ll try to make it as simple as possible. Keep in mind, I don¡¯t know what¡¯s happened to you either, so asking me won¡¯t help much. Having said that,¡± she inhaled and looked at her notes again.
¡°Your skin was the first big change. Already at the convention they noticed that regular needles bent out of shape when they tried to give you adrenaline, and the one that finally worked was practically the size of a nail.¡± She held her index finger and her thumb to indicate the frankly terrifying size of the needle she was describing, which made me vaguely remember something about a giant syringe sticking out of my leg.
¡°The doctors apparently also had issues with other tools, such as scalpels and stethoscopes. The only successful method of checking your vitals was by forcibly shoving an endoscope equipped with a microphone down your throat to see what was going on. I haven¡¯t heard anything about the results of that examination yet though,¡± she said while chewing on her pencil. ¡°Seems like someone wants that kept under wraps.¡±
Emily crossed out the second line of notes and went on to the third and fourth. The rest of the discoveries during my comatose state were less dramatic, but still curious. I had been given a steady diet of water based nutrients and vitamins, through an arduous method where the nurse would essentially bottle feed me and make sure I swallowed, but not once had my body went to the bathroom on its own. It was as if my body completely absorbed everything they gave me. The next point Emily brought up was even tied to the last one, as I had wildly fluctuated in weight when I¡¯d been weighed at different points during my recovery. I had apparently weighed in at a hefty 95kg on the first day of my coma, but I¡¯d rapidly lost that weight, even though my body was retaining everything fed to it. I¡¯d dropped a little over 20kg in just five days, which would make every personal trainer in the city cry tears of disbelief and dismay. I tried to hide it, but that fact made me feel pretty distressed considering I had struggled for a long time to reach a body weight of 90kg. All those hours at the gym, scrubbed away in a breath.
¡°And that brings us to the last detail I can confirm for now,¡± Emily said as she put down her notebook and sat down next to me. She pulled something small and shiny out of her pocket, and handed it to me. It was a small mirror, approximately the size of my palm. I lifted it to my face, but what looked back at me startled me so much I nearly threw the mirror away. It fell down into the folds of my bedsheets, but neither me or Emily made any attempts at retrieving it. Instead Emily looked into my eyes.
¡°Your eyes have changed color. Disregarding how such a thing is even possible, congrats little brother, silver suits you! I¡¯ll be honest, I¡¯ll miss the purple, but I guess I¡¯ll get used to this eventually. Out of all the weird shit since the explosion, this is the most noticeable one, but only for those who already know you.¡±
I knew Em was only trying to make me feel better by projecting an upbeat vibe, but inside I was spiraling. The eyes that had looked back from that mirror had felt ominous, almost as if they weren¡¯t really my own, and I struggled to keep from shaking as I looked at the spot in the bedsheets where I felt the gaze that would look back at me if not hidden behind folds of white cloth. The hollow gaze of shimmering silver irises enveloping an endless black pupil, looking just like the Void of my subconsciousness.
Emily carefully bent down and put her hand on mine, calming my slight trembling. I looked up at her and was met with a warm smile and soft eyes, trying her best to comfort me. It was weird, considering how I had been the one to comfort her only a half hour ago, when she thought I might never wake up from a coma. Seeing her put on a brave face for my sake now was the last drop that broke the dam, and tears began flooding from my eyes as the stress and worry came rushing over me. Apparently I wasn¡¯t as stoic about my situation as I thought I would be.
¡°Hey.¡± Emily spoke softly, barely above a whisper, as she sat down next to me. She put away her little notepad and took my hands in hers and held them. Her hands felt cold around mine, and I realized she must have been exhausted. To me it may have only been a few hours of unconscious floating, but to her it had been five whole days. Five days of worrying over me, probably missing sleep and missing meals while she tried to gain any information possible about her baby brother¡¯s coma. I felt¡ shameful, at my own inadequacy.
¡°I would like to go home now. Can we do that? Am I clear to leave?¡± I heard the tired weakness in my words. They stung in my ears, and I felt hot all over my body. I lowered my face in an attempt to hide the embarrassment that spread across my face, but Emily grabbed it and lifted it back up to stare into my eyes. She stared hard, looking for something. I didn¡¯t know what, but I guess she eventually found it, because she eventually relaxed her grip and softened up in her expression. ¡°How do you feel?¡± she asked, finally.
¡°I feel fine. Physically I mean, nothing wrong other than my limbs sort of feeling like they¡¯re asleep. Other than that¡ I¡¯m hungry. Starving actually,¡± I said with what I hoped was a reassuring voice. It felt like Emily considered saying no for a second, but then she sighed, and she seemed to let go of a metric ton of stress as she deflated before my eyes.
¡°Alright, we can go home. And yes, we can pick up some more soup on the way.¡±
???
¡°Wait here, I¡¯m gonna go pick up the soup and some clothes for you. You¡¯re alright with semi-old used clothes, right? Your fancy three-piece isn¡¯t very fancy anymore,¡± Emily added to her initial question. I nodded and sat down in the deserted waiting area. We were somewhere deep in the hospital, and Emily kept looking back at me all the way down the hall until she had to cross a corner, which I guess was only natural all things considered. She¡¯d been holding my hand all the way until we stumbled upon the rather large waiting space. I sat down on one of the couches, feeling slightly embarrassed as my bare ass touched the coarse fabric stretched across the old cushion. It was cold in the open space there, and I didn¡¯t feel entirely comfortable being there all by myself. Almost as if I wasn¡¯t supposed to be there alone, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. I heard distant sounds of voices coming from the direction Emily had gone, and I nearly decided to hide under the couch in case someone was coming this way, but I flexed my fingers a few times and stayed in the seat. I didn¡¯t know why, but there was something weird about the whole situation. Besides, being seen hiding under a couch in a waiting room would be a lot weirder than just sitting there waiting.
Emily came back a short few minutes later, holding a black plastic bag in one hand and a square plastic box under her other arm. As soon as I saw the container I could smell the same soup from earlier and a loud rumble escaped my stomach, which elicited a look of incredulity from my sister. I practically leapt up from the couch, and met her halfway down the corridor from where I¡¯d been sitting.
¡°Whoa, careful, it¡¯s still pretty hot,¡± Emily said as I snatched the soup from her. ¡°Here, take these as well and go get changed. Just head in there and put on whatever fits.¡±
I grabbed the clothes she handed me and turned around to look at where she pointed. A small sign over a door read WC, so I started towards it, trying to gather everything into an easy-to-carry bundle. I had to press the door handle with my foot to get into the tiny room, but once inside I closed the door and dropped everything on the floor. I sat down on the toilet and cracked the lid on the box with the soup and found the thick liquid, rich with chunks of potato and near-meat. There was a plastic spoon clipped to the underside of the lid, and I considered using it for a second, but before I could decide the soup was already flowing directly from the box into my mouth. It was like I was moving on auto-pilot, having close to no control over my own actions. I barely even felt the high heat as I struggled to swallow the second huge mouthful, and almost spilled on my hospital gown.
¡°Hello? I asked if you¡¯ve managed to find something. I¡¯m out here waiting, you know,¡± I suddenly heard from outside the door. In my hyperfocus towards the soup I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to change out of the horrible hospital gown I was wearing. I set the nearly empty soup box to the side and pulled at the hem of the gown, only for it to rip apart and fall to the floor.
Damn, these things are pretty flimsy, I thought to myself as I kicked the gown out of the way. I then started digging through the pile of old clothes in search of any form of underwear I could use. It wasn¡¯t the most pleasant experience, but I eventually found a pair that did the job. I had to go through a couple of different pants as well, before I found some that fit me well enough without a belt, and I was about to put on a plain white shirt when I suddenly heard Emily yelp from the other side of the door. I was about to ask what¡¯d happened, but before I could there was another voice, seemingly coming from a bit further away. I couldn¡¯t hear what was said, but the voice sounded distinctly feminine.
¡°That¡¯s alright Mrs. Solomon, you just surprised me,¡± I heard Emily say to the other person. She was using her patient-voice, a higher pitched version of her normal voice meant to make patients feel safe and secure no matter what she was saying to them.
¡°Sorry, but shouldn¡¯t you be in bed by now? It¡¯s late you know, and you know how anxious it makes Orion when I have to tell him about your little late night walkabouts,¡± Emily said after another muffled response from Mrs. Solomon. I vaguely remembered the elderly woman that Emily took special care of. She was Mr. Solomon''s mother, the man who owned and operated most of the city¡¯s infrastructure.
¡°Oh please, just call me Cassy. If you can refer to Ori by his name you sure as heck can do it for me as well! Now, stop fiddling with your fancy wrist phone and help an old lady out.¡±
The other voice just barely came through the door this time. I guessed she must have been walking closer. I heard a thump from the door as Emily leaned against it, and she gave Mrs. Solomon a short laugh. ¡°Fine, Cassiopeia,¡± she said, stressing the name. ¡°But you still have to get back to your room before the nurse on staff gets worried and calls your son. Can you do that for me, Cassy? You know how dramatic he gets about you walking around when you should be resting. Please?" I could practically hear how Emily poured all her sweetness into the last word, and I could picture the pleading look in her eyes that was entirely impossible to deny. Absolute master manipulator.
¡°Alright, fine, I just need to use the bathroom and then I¡¯ll let you walk me back to my room, unless that¡¯s another cause for panic,¡± Mrs. Solomon huffed jovially. She sounded like a pretty sweet old lady, with a hint of mischievous humor that entirely eluded her son. ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Cassy, but this bathroom here is unavailable right now,¡± Emily told the old lady. ¡°Another patient seems to have had an accident there, but I¡¯ll happily take you to another one down the hall and to the right.¡±
Expardon me? I looked around, but I saw no sign of anything that should make the little toilet room unavailable, or even unpleasant. It was perfectly fine. Emily had just lied to Mrs. Solomon.
¡°But I used this bathroom just this afternoon, how could something so serious have happened in just a few hours,¡± Mrs. Solomon protested, but Emily was apparently prepared. ¡°You know I can¡¯t divulge details about other patients Mrs. So- Cassy. Buuuut, just between you and me, let¡¯s just say Dr. Martin is having some trouble with one of his patients.¡± This apparently explained everything, because Mrs. Solomon quietly giggled like a schoolgirl as a response. I guessed hospital gossip was as juicy as any other gossip.
¡°Come on then, let¡¯s get going, before I have to leave,¡± I heard Emily from further down the hall, judging from the sound. Is she leaving me here?
¡°It¡¯s not far, it¡¯ll only take two minutes, then you¡¯ll go back to bed, okay?¡± Emily was almost inaudible, but she spoke up when she said ¡°two minutes¡±, almost like a yell from down the hall.
Okay, so I got two minutes, I guess. I dove back into the pile of clothes in search of socks with no holes.
???
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
¡°Here, this way.¡± Emily pulled me along into a side corridor that stretched out into dimly illuminated darkness. I nearly stumbled over a bit too long pant leg after her, trying to keep up with her brisk pace. She was moving a lot easier than I could, with her skinny jeans and dark hoodie. She¡¯d even stuffed all her bright blonde hair under the hood, presumably to keep it from falling into her face. She kinda looked like a college med-student that was running on way too many cups of coffee.
She had come back from walking Mrs. Solomon after a short while, and knocked on the bathroom door, asking if it was occupied. I came out dressed in the most fitting clothes I¡¯d found in the pile, which still left a lot to be desired concerning sizes, but I made do. Emily seemed as cheery as ever, except for her panting breath, as if she¡¯d been running or something. There was something going on with her, but it didn¡¯t feel right to ask her about it right away, considering all she¡¯d done for me during my coma, and after I woke up. Still, the feeling of something gnawing at me in the back of my head wouldn¡¯t go away as we headed down into the dimly lit corridor, in a direction I didn¡¯t know where led.
¡°Hey, quick question, where are we going? We¡¯ve been walking for a few minutes now, and I don¡¯t recognise any of these corridors, and it doesn¡¯t really feel like we¡¯re headed towards the main entrance.¡± I had been trying to orient myself as we went along, but I¡¯d never been in this part of the hospital before. We¡¯d been walking for maybe four minutes, but I still hadn¡¯t seen a door or a window that led outside.
¡°We¡¯re currently headed to the staff garage. I¡¯m not really allowed to be parked there unless I¡¯m on duty, but I figured it¡¯d be alright. It¡¯s not as if I don¡¯t have a good excuse.¡± She answered my question with a wink, and stepped around another corner. I felt there was something off with her explanation, just like how she acted with Mrs. Solomon, but I was physically stopped before I could say anything.
I hadn¡¯t seen it, but right after turning the corner Emily had stopped, and I bumped into her as I followed, almost sending us both to the floor. What stopped us was the hands of a man dressed in a security guard uniform. He caught Emily¡¯s shoulders as I pushed her forward, and kept us both standing. However in that position I could faintly hear her breathing in short huffs, and I felt her heartbeat through her back against my chest. Her pulse was racing.
¡°Woah there, where are you going in such a rush?¡± The man''s voice sounded concerned with a hint of forced authority, and I immediately froze up.
Shit, are we not supposed to be here? Has Emily led us somewhere off-limits?
¡°Shh, not so loud,¡± Emily answered the man, which only confused me even further. I had absolutely no idea what was going on and was getting tired of it, but decided to keep my mouth shut until we were alone. I was beginning to rack up a whole bunch of questions.
¡°Emily, goddamn, I thought something happened. I got your text, but-¡±
¡°Yes, sorry, I know,¡± Emily cut him off and pulled her hood back. ¡°Mrs. Solomon surprised me, and I had to deflect. It¡¯s fine, I handled it.¡± She stepped around the security guard and pulled a multikey out of her pocket. She held it up to a door I hadn¡¯t noticed and a faint click came from the lock. Emily pressed the door handle and slowly swung the door open, just enough to poke her head out. I just stood there awkwardly in front of the security guard. He turned his gaze from Emily to me.
¡°So, you must be the brother, then. Ashton, right? I heard you went through some really horrible stuff, and ended up in a coma. It¡¯s good to see you on your feet, although I gotta be honest, you look a lot better than I expected after what Emily told me.¡±
The security guard, whose name was Eric according to his badge, laughed nervously as he brought up my coma, and for some reason all my apprehension towards him just evaporated at that moment. He was no longer an authority figure, just a nervous guy, seemingly helping my sister for some reason. That calmed me down some, and I was able to give him a somewhat reassuring smile.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m probably going to require some form of professional therapy once I get around to processing everything. I kinda woke up maybe thirty minutes ago, and I¡¯m still catching up to everything, both mentally and physically.¡± As I spoke I realized the words were truer than I meant them to be. I hadn¡¯t really reflected on my state of mind much about the events at the convention, but the moment I did I felt tremors appear down my spine. I shut them down and exiled the thoughts before they would paralyze me completely.
¡°How about you, how do you know Emily,¡± I asked Eric to further distract myself. ¡°We work together,¡± he answered with a big goofy smile, which gave me the impression that the aura of authority from before was mostly something he faked when necessary. ¡°Well, kind of. I work the night shift here, looking out for some of the more out-of-control patients, to make sure they¡¯re safe and stuff, and so I get to hang out with Em and the other night nurses a lot. There¡¯s not much for me to do outside of emergencies, and all the nurses here are super nice, especially Em.¡± The more Eric droned on, the bigger and goofier his smile grew, and I got the sensation that he was just a really reliable dude. He seemed to like to talk, perhaps more than he should, but I didn¡¯t mind hearing details about patients that were technically confidential under doctor-patient privileges, because I didn''t plan on remembering much of his ramblings.
After a couple minutes of this semi-awkward chit chatting, Emily came out the door she earlier had poked her head through. I was a bit surprised, because I hadn''t noticed her actually stepping through the door fully, but as she returned I realized she''d been able to keep the door open, step out and go who knew where, then come back, without me or Eric The Security Guard noticing anything. My mind flashed back to what had happened with my bes- to what Deimos had done, but I pushed those thoughts out of my head quickly. Emily wasn''t like that, I was just too physically and emotionally exhausted to pick up every minute detail around me. I mean, I had just gotten out of a five day coma, and I was still so hungry. I could give myself a little slack.
Emily walked up to me and Eric and patted the security guard on the back lightly. ¡°Thanks Eric, sorry to worry you earlier.¡± He turned around in surprise, apparently still not having noticed her return. ¡°Ah! Oh, hey Em, man you scared me.¡± He¡¯d been in the middle of telling me how quickly gossip spread among the staff at the hospital, mostly focused on the doctors and their secret affairs. It sounded like a bunch of unnecessary drama to me. Emily just smiled at the blond, tall man, and acted as if she hadn¡¯t heard anything about the gossiping nurses. ¡°Here Ash, I got you this,¡± she said and handed me a wristband similar to her own. It was dark gray in color, and split into segmented joints that formed a smooth fit around my wrist. It made a tiny beep the moment it clasped shut, and a purple light started filling up a thin rectangular bar on the edge of a black square. I stared at it wide-eyed.
¡°What- how did you get this? And why are you giving it to me?¡± I asked her, incredulously. The smartband was from a generation about two years old, but it was still leagues more powerful and versatile than my phone. The phone I¡¯d had during the convention. Which was probably nothing but burned circuitry and melted plastic by now. That at least explained the why, which only left the how. Emily had been given hers as a necessary tool to do her job as a nurse, but there was no way for us to be able to afford such an expensive device easily. ¡°It¡¯s an extra for redundancy, in case a band breaks for any reason. The hospital keeps at least a couple dozen, so it¡¯s never a big deal.¡± Emily smiled as she waved my worries away. ¡°Besides,¡± she continued, ¡°the hospital is insured to the teeth, and since the bands are prepaid up to three months, you can use it as soon as it¡¯s charged and calibrated. That way we can take the time to find something more permanent, and I¡¯ll return the band to the hospital, no problem. Now, come on, the car is just down these stairs, then we¡¯ll almost be home.¡±
It was the way she spoke that worried me, with her voice pitched up, and a smile as wide as a barn door. It was the chipper and carefree demeanor she put on while talking to patients. ¡°Thanks for looking out for me, Eric. I¡¯ll get Alida to bake some extra cupcakes next week. Say bye to Eric, Ash.¡± I nodded my head and gave Eric an absentminded goodbye. Emily dragged me out the door she¡¯d previously gone through, and led me down a few flights of stairs that ended in a door that led out to a parking garage underground. I heard the subtle click of car doors unlocking a few meters ahead, and we walked together through the dimly lit garage to Emily¡¯s car. We got in, she twisted the key, and we calmly drove out into the open air.
It¡¯s night? Wait, what time is it? I looked at the small map interface screen, where the clock read 02:12 at night. Above us through the window I saw Primo high and bright, with Secundus close behind it. The two crescent moons looked like a celestial creature¡¯s eyes, almost, but not quite fully closed. The image remained in my head as the low hum of the engine and soft swaying of the road lulled into a dreamless slumber, where no voices would ever reach.
???
¡°Hey sleepyhead, we¡¯re here.¡± I slowly opened my eyes and saw the familiar stone material of our apartment building. We were in the garage, and Emily stood outside the open car door, shaking me gently. ¡°Alright, alright, I¡¯m awake,¡± I told her as I grunted my way out of the car. My body had stiffened up during the half hour ride, and several joints popped as I stretched. Somewhere between the pops there was a strange echo, however. Like the dying hum of a voice coming from somewhere inside me, bouncing off my bones. At least that¡¯s what it felt like, but when I stopped stretching and tried to listen, no lingering hum, or sound of any kind, not even a heartbeat.
Oh, right. No pulse. Still alive, but no pulse. It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine, Emily said so. Fuck, what the fuck is going on with me?
¡°Hey, slowpoke, get your butt in gear! I may not be freezing to death, but I¡¯m not exactly comfortable out here. Let¡¯s get inside, where it¡¯s warm,¡± Emily said, clearly having watched me stop and try to listen to my insides. She was standing by the open door to the stairwell, hands in her pockets and knees pushed together. ¡°Coming!¡±
It was weird, I wasn¡¯t wearing more than a large t-shirt, ill-fitting pants and a pair of socks with at least one hole, but I felt rather warm. Not like a sweaty, uncomfortable warm, or like a wet and steamy warmth after a hot shower, but warm like I was sitting in front of a crisp and toasty fire¡ or in one. It was usually pretty cold this time of year, especially with two moons hanging in the sky, and usually I was pretty sensitive to cold weather. Not tonight though. I shook my head and walked in through the door.
¡°That¡¯s better,¡± I heard Emily sigh behind me as she closed the door. We headed straight up to the apartment where Emily scanned her thumb to unlock the door and let us in. It was dark inside and smelled a little musty. I guessed it had been a bit since Emily cleaned anything in there, but I wasn¡¯t gonna comment on it. Instead I pulled the borrowed shirt over my head and tossed it over the back of a kitchen chair on the way to the fridge. The little bulb inside the fridge was the lone source of light that lit up my face as I scoured the contents. Everything I found was scooped into my arms and placed on the kitchen table along a bowl and a paper box from a side cabinet. Synthetic milk, cereal and mini-shmallows gathered in the bowl while the plastic wrapping around a half-eaten sandwich was torn away. I have no idea what went into my mouth first, but I was already finishing the sandwich and halfway through a second bowl of cereal when Emily turned on the light.
¡°How can you still be hungry?¡± she asked me incredulously. ¡°Ih dohf nnmm, djff mmf,¡± I very intelligently replied around several mouthfuls of assorted foods. Emily sighed and closed the open fridge door. ¡°Srrmf,¡± I offered in way of apology. She slumped into the chair next to me and rested her chin in her hands. She sat like that and just watched me eat for a moment, smiling softly to herself.
"Are you alright? Not to be rude, but you kinda look like a mess, and you really need a shower," I said after forcefully swallowing a large spoonful of cereal. "Yeah," Emily sighed in response, deflating in her chair. "I''m fine. Exhausted, but that''s nothing new. I''m probably going to go and pass out first, then shower whenever I wake up. I''m not scheduled until - let''s see," she poked at her own smartband and pulled up the monthly schedule of shifts. "Not until tomorrow night, which gives me a cushy eighteen hours to sleep, shower and eat."
She then gave me a pointed look, held it for a second, then continued. "I''m going to bed now, and I¡¯ll probably be asleep until midday tomorrow. You¡¯ll be fine on your own for a bit, yeah? You¡¯re not gonna get into any more accidents, or fall into another coma, are you?¡± Her questions were soft spoken, but there was an undeniable threat behind the words. As if I were gonna be in a heap of trouble if I even so much as thought about taking any sort of risk. I slowly nodded my head at her in a ¡°you got it, boss,¡± kinda way.
She held her gaze, straight into my face, which seemed to intensify the longer time went. Then she abruptly got out of her chair and stretched her arms backwards over her head, and I could hear several pops coming from her back and shoulders. "Good," she stated cheerfully as only she could. ¡°It¡¯d be nice if there was food left for breakfast tomorrow, so I¡¯m transferring you some money,¡± she continued. A small, bluish window popped out from her smartband, and as Emily swiped her fingers around on the window, I took a look at the band still wrapped around my own wrist. The little bar of light had filled up almost all the way by now, and the light had changed into a silvery sheen that shimmered strangely, as if liquid. I didn¡¯t have any personal experience with a smartband, so I knew nothing other than how to register it once the light eventually filled the thin bar entirely. I figured I¡¯d deal with it whenever that happened.
¡°There, make sure there¡¯s coffee, some form of milk or creamer, and at least a bagel.¡± She said the last part with no small amount of seriousness. Then she softened again, and continued, ¡°Other than that, just take it easy this coming week, okay? I¡¯ve spoken to your boss at the store, and they¡¯re aware of the accide-... of what happened,¡± she cut herself off before she could fully mention the explosion, but the memories were already shoved into the spotlight.
¡°I made sure of that,¡± Emily continued. ¡°You¡¯ll be able to go back to work when you feel like it, but I strongly recommend at least a couple more days of rest, to see if no more strange things happen to you.¡±
There was worry in her eyes as she carefully danced around the changes to my body and what had really occurred, but none of it touched her voice. I guess I caught it because I knew her so well, and had seen it many times during our childhood. I tried to give her my best reassuring smile, even while the tortured screams of other convention guests replayed in my mind. ¡°Thanks for taking care of me, sis,¡± I said earnestly. ¡°And okay, I¡¯ll make sure to take it easy, and get lots of rest.¡±
¡°Alright,¡± Emily smiled warmly. ¡°That¡¯s all I have the energy for tonight. Goodnight, Ash. Be a good little brother and clean up after yourself, alright?¡± I looked over the table and kitchen counter, and sighed at the sight of the mess I¡¯d unwittingly left all over the place. There were plates, utensils, plastic wrapping, plastic boxes and crumbs of food pretty much everywhere, and I hadn¡¯t noticed any of it until she pointed it out. Emily giggled as she left me to clean up after myself. ¡°Night, sis,¡± I muttered, and started looking for a sponge.
???
Half an hour later I was finally back in my own warm bed, dressed in my own nicely fitting pajamas. A mug of instant cocoa sat next to my bed, on the floor, and I had my old computer opened up on my lap. I knew it wasn¡¯t the smartest move, to go online where there were bound to be countless videos and news articles about the events at the Lodestar Convention, but I desperately needed to unwind with something familiar.
The Andromeda Star Chart was projected out around me, bathing me in ethereal lights in the otherwise dark bedroom. Everything felt better when I looked at the Chart. My problems and worries became smaller, less serious. Easier for a regular human to overcome. The undulating lights swept over my eyes and granted me a sort of comfort I struggled to find within most other things. I could just sit there and watch that tiny representation of our galaxy forever, bathed in the wonder of what power existed out there in the vast darkness of space.
However, instead of getting to relax with the stars and enjoy my hot cocoa, there was a nagging feeling deep in my stomach I couldn¡¯t shake. It had something to do with that shining orb of special glass I had swallowed, but I was too weak to think too hard about it. There was so much blood, so many screams, and so much pain, swirling in my mind, creating a maelstrom of torment, all focused on that little bright, glass marble. It was too much.
A twinkling notification sound played low over the speakers that were drowned in my bed sheets, and I welcomed the sudden distraction. It was an email, sent from an address I wasn¡¯t familiar with, but it was signed by a name that I recognized instantly.
Dear Mr. Etrigan.
We hope this message finds you in good health, and that your journey home was a comfortable one. We realize that your condition might not be optimal for the time being, but we put our trust in Ms. Etrigan to nurse you back to health, as she has with so many other patients. If you need anything at all, don¡¯t hesitate to come visit the hospital, and we¡¯ll set up an appointment for you. Our lawyers have spoken to Lodestar Labs and their legal team on behalf of yourself, as well as the other patients still in our care, and we¡¯ve set up a Fund for you to help you get back on your feet. Considering the partnership between our owner and the owner of Lodestar, this is the least we could do. We still require your signature before you can receive your portion of the Fund, which you can provide at any time convenient to you.
During your time at our hospital we discovered a few strange changes happening to your physiology, and we would be loath not to ask your permission to allow us further study of these changes, as soon as you regain your health. This would naturally come with additional compensation to you as thanks for your time and cooperation. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact us through this email address, or reach out to one of our representatives. Their contact info will be on the attached document, along with the compensation agreement for the Fund. In the meantime, take good care of yourself and Ms. Etrigan. We look forward to hearing from you.
Signed
Orion Solomon, Chief Executive Officer, Solomon Industries
Attached to the email was one official document from Solomon Industries Legal Department, as well as a sheet containing the contact information to two doctors at the Andromeda Hospital as well as several assistants from Solomon Industries. I opened the document and began reading. Two pages later I found a dotted line and the words ¡°sign here¡±, next to a fillable box for date and location. Right above that was the amount I would receive if I did. My eyes widened in shock as I stared at the amount in front of me. Something felt off in the email, I wasn¡¯t important enough for Orion Solomon himself to take interest. Right?
Then there was the fact that they knew I was home, and that Emily had been the one to come get me. Why would they have that information? It all added up to something beyond my knowledge, but I decided to go digging as soon as I could. In the meantime I would have to figure out what I would do with two-point-five million dollars.
Chapter 7: Severance
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 79 kg
Mental Status: Excited
Physical Status: Rested
Two and a half MILLION dollars. I could do anything I ever wanted. Shit, I could finally tell my boss to go fuck himself, no consequences. I could- I could..
I sat at the breakfast table, thinking about all the ways my life could change with the money I¡¯d been offered in the previous night''s email. Sleep hadn''t come easy, but I managed to drift off eventually into a state of careful unconsciousness. That¡¯s what it had felt like, anyway. In reality it had been the deepest sleep of my life, and had lasted a perfect eight hours, at which point I had woken up without the assistance of alarms. And I felt rested. That was weird.
Emily had woken up some time past noon and came in to check on me, but I¡¯d already gotten out of bed by then. I¡¯d decided against telling her about the email, at least for now. I wanted to wait and see what would happen in the coming days.
Before I¡¯d fallen fully asleep, the wristband had finally charged up, and it¡¯d reported through a silvery white window that calibration was ready whenever I initiated the program. I just had to tap the top square of the band, and it would begin reading my biological identity for identification and registration. I knew the process from broadcasted ads and other commercials, but I wasn¡¯t in a hurry. The only person I would¡¯ve wanted to call was¡ no longer going to be a part of my life.
Other than that there was only Emily, my coworkers and boss, whom I would have to talk to eventually, and maybe Tyler from my gym, that I saw on a regular basis. I didn¡¯t have a whole lot of friends.
I wonder if Em would let me go and work out. It¡¯d be nice to feel like I¡¯m at least doing something. No sooner had the thought appeared in my mind than my body started to tingle with excitement. It dawned on me that physical exercise might not be the big brain move I thought it was, and then I remembered something I¡¯d neglected to think much about ever since I¡¯d woken up.
Echoes of fire danced in the edges of my vision, and sounds of popping and breaking bones filled my ears. I had broken my leg. So much so that I couldn¡¯t move it at all. Then, after that, after swallowing the marble¡ I didn¡¯t remember much else than pain, but I knew something had happened to my skeleton. It had been vaporized from the inside, leaving nothing behind. Or at least, that was according to my own memories. I poked at my elbow.
Feels like bone. Same with my knees. Maybe the human mind is too fragile to handle that much pain, and tries to produce some form of reason for it all? To make it make sense? Yup, I definitely need to see a therapist. Nevertheless, all the prodding and examining of my own body revealed one thing about me I wasn¡¯t very happy about. I¡¯d lost weight. Not a whole lot, but enough to make it visibly noticeable. I chalked it up to five days of inactivity and liquid foods, which, now that I thought about it, also explained the insatiable hunger I¡¯d experienced the previous night.
I hope that doesn¡¯t last, I¡¯d eat Em out of her own¡ home¡ A big doofy grin spread across my face, not for the first time that morning. Two and a half million dollars is¡ a lot of food. Food with real meat, even!
The tingle of excitement returned, but this time for entirely new reasons.
???
¡°Absolutely not!¡±
Emily¡¯s voice wasn¡¯t forceful, but the finality of her words was absolute. ¡°You will spend the day here, resting. You can go out to the store and buy food if you want, but you have to wear more than just¡ that,¡± she said and gestured at my stained t-shirt and sweatpants. I¡¯d put on some of my most comfortable clothes despite the temperature in the apartment, which was slowly creeping down. The snow was beginning to really pile up outside.
¡°Alright, okay, no gym. But honestly, this is fine, I don¡¯t really feel that cold.¡± The slapping sounds of my bare feet against plastwood sounded loudly in the wake of my words. Emily responded with a perfect death stare. ¡°Okay,¡± I immediately relented. ¡°I¡¯ll put on socks and a sweater, and I¡¯ll bring a jacket if I go outside.¡± I sheepishly exited the kitchen and went to put on some more clothes. Behind me Emily smiled and hummed a cheerful tune. It scared me a little, how she effortlessly switched from Strict Nurse to carefree sister in the span of negative two seconds.
I can give it one more day, I told myself. I decided I would ask her again the next morning, after a hefty amount of bribing in the form of the best damn coffee I could find within walking distance. Until then I would just stay at home, watching whatever was on broadcast and think about how to approach Mr. Solomon''s offer.
I can also figure out how this fancy device works.
The smartband around my wrist had been charged and ready for a while now, but I¡¯d held off on getting to it. Emily hadn¡¯t mentioned it since she gave it to me, but I knew she would call me lazy if I kept putting it off. She wouldn¡¯t have been entirely wrong, but blamed the fact that I¡¯d been too preoccupied to be able to focus on it until now.
After I put on some old socks I sat down on the living room couch and got comfortable, before I initiated the registration process. A silver colored screen projected from somewhere along the segmented band, with the word CALIBRATE? in big, bold letters. There were no other instructions visible.
¡°Yes?¡± I said half asked the screen. Nothing happened. ¡°Yes,¡± I said again, more forcefully this time. The screen flickered and was replaced by a new screen. This one had the word CALIBRATING, along with three blinking dots. I only had to wait a couple seconds for the screen to flicker again, this time with an audible ping, and the word COMPLETE.
I was honestly pretty excited by now, it¡¯d been a long time since I had gotten to play with new tech. That excitement turned to anxiety however, when the next window that popped up read Bio scan failed. Unable to register user. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach. Something had gone wrong, but how? I was registered at birth, then updated every seven years after that until I reached twenty one.
There were people that chose to delete their identity registration, and also chose to not register their children, but they were few, and generally considered paranoid and ignorant. They had practically made it impossible for themselves to interact with society, making everything from traveling to having a bank account impossible. They would spout stuff about secret world governments and spy cameras in bird''s eyes, and lived in tiny communities with like minded people, away from any large city grid.
An icon of an arrow pointing counter clockwise appeared on the screen with a question mark behind it. I tapped at it. My finger didn¡¯t actually make contact with anything, but the action still had an effect. Another screen popped up in front of the one with the failed scan. On it was a long empty box apart from the word search in dark gray letters in the middle. It appeared to be a search bar. I knew it would let me look up my name so the system could pick up the last scan on file, and see if it matched a second scan of my body.
¡°Ashton. Etrigan.¡± I spoke the words loud and clear, trying to make sure it didn¡¯t accidentally search for Ashley Neagon, or something like that. Decades ago there had been thousands of memes online about how robots messed up speech to text, creating all kinds of misunderstandings. We had come a long way since then, but it never hurt to make sure.
The search bar filled my name in perfectly, and a detailed summary of my biometric profile appeared on the screen. It displayed all the biological characteristics that identified me, along with my overall health. I¡¯d been pretty unhealthy for a twenty one year old, but that wasn¡¯t super shocking. I¡¯d been a jobless nerd, spending most of my time in front of a computer game, or admiring the star chart. It took me a couple more years of adult life before I realized I had to do something, and I¡¯d eventually started eating less crappy food and started lifting weights. At twenty eight my health was quite impressive considering how bad it had once been.
The window behind my saved identity screen flashed, and a new scan initiated. The silvery screens were transparent, but I was barely able to see text appear behind the one in front when the scan ended. I snaked my hand between them and made a grabbing motion to pull them side by side instead of in front of each other. I read the message, and the pit in my stomach grew deeper.
Scan does not match saved Biometric Identity, it said. I read the message again and again, feeling a sense of unease. If this had been my old phone this wouldn¡¯t have made me react in any way, because the operating system on it was practically a digital antique. I only ever used it for entertainment and social media. It had my fingerprints, but that was it. The smartband wasn¡¯t like that though, it was meant to be a tool to better interact with all digital devices everywhere, and make life easier for those that could afford one. And this one was telling me it couldn¡¯t match me with¡ me.
What the hell does that mean, ¡°scan does not match¡±? My name is Ashton Etrigan, those are my records! What the fuck!
I stared at the silver segments around my wrist that formed the band, looking for an answer or explanation as to why the scan didn¡¯t work. The same retry button appeared on the scan window and I jabbed my finger at it again. The screen changed, and a new sentence appeared.
Are you sure you are ¡°ASHTON ETRIGAN¡±? y/n. Something flared in my chest and I yelled at the words in front of me.
¡°Yes, dammit, I am Ashton Etrigan!¡± I slammed my hands against the table in an attempt to expel the nervous energy that was building towards anger.
¡°Those are MY fucking records, that is ME!¡± My mouth felt dry as I spoke. This stupid device questioning my existence was the last thing I needed right now.
Scan unable to match user to ASHTON ETRIGAN. Enter another name.
No, that¡¯s wrong! My name is Ashton, that profile is mine. I am Ashton Etrigan! My head was spinning. The final message to register another person was like a hammer, hitting a nail all the way in with one final blow. I fell back into the couch, sinking deep into the soft cushion, feeling utterly defeated.
I guess I¡¯ll have to just get a regular phone. At least I¡¯ll be able to afford one. A deep sigh escaped my lungs as I closed my eyes. A mix of anger, fear and hopelessness spread out from my chest and stomach, and I felt hot and cold at the same time.
A ping sounded from the wrist band. I cracked an eye open to see what the stupid thing wanted. A new window had appeared. I opened the other eye to read the text that was floating across the screen. Scan Complete, it read, followed by a logo in the form of a T-shaped man carrying an orb, and the words Thank you ASHTON ETRIGAN for choosing Titan.
My anxiety and anger faded, but in their place came a hefty sense of confusion. Somehow it had worked, even though the third scan failed and asked for another name. I had no idea why it worked, but as I kept watching, a series of videos played on the now single hovering screen in front of me. The videos depicted people using their smartbands for a multitude of services and ended with the same logo it had shown earlier. The media player faded and a guided program meant to personalize the user interface appeared in its stead. I hit the ¡°Default¡± icon.
I felt emotionally drained, and didn¡¯t have the mental energy to dive deeper into the applications of the smartband, other than to make sure I could contact Emily if necessary. I¡¯d probably still only use it for entertainment and social media, just like my old phone, but at least it worked now. I had no explanation to why I had responded the way I had. Usually when technology acted up like this I just found a way to either fix it so it worked, or I ignored it completely. This time I hadn¡¯t been able to react rationally at all, and I thought about how I had slammed the table earlier. That wasn¡¯t like me at all.
I looked at the spot I¡¯d hit the table. A crack in the surface had appeared, and I was pretty sure it hadn¡¯t been there before. The table was a gift from our mom when Emily moved out, and was one of the few pure wooden furniture she owned, which made it not only old, but valuable. The old stuff always lasted longer than anything new. It was made to be durable, after all.
¡°Emily is gonna love that,¡± I said sarcastically, to no one in particular. I mentally added a bottle of wine to my grocery list.
???
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Whenever I had a day off from work, or had the apartment to myself in general, I loved to spend the time playing a game on the couch, watching or reading something, or enjoying another hobby, such as the chart. Sure, none of those things weren¡¯t necessarily productive or developmental in any way, but they brought joy to my otherwise gray existence. I had games, I could download a film or series, and I had a bunch of old cartoon comic books. Instead of doing any of that, I was staring out the kitchen window, looking at the bright day and all the people outside. They were all moving around, going about their day, doing whatever it was that filled their time.
Gods, I¡¯m jealous. Another day of nothing and I¡¯m going to literally explode. I guess I can at least try to do something productive.
I¡¯d already spent some time debating my options concerning the deal I¡¯d received from Solomon Industries, but I hadn¡¯t been able to come to a conclusion just yet. It felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop before I could make a decision. The money was tempting, but I was worried about what it would mean for my future if I just said yes without a second thought. A thought popped up in the back of my mind.
¡°Open my email,¡± I tried, speaking directly into my wrist. I felt a little awkward doing it, but I didn¡¯t know how else to activate the smartband yet. It blinked in response and my login screen appeared in front of me. ¡°Uuh¡ can I get some sort of keyboard?¡± Immediately an array of letters and numbers lit up in silver, slanted down towards me. The position and angle was far from perfect, and when I tried pushing a key the lack of any haptic feedback made it an uncomfortable solution. I moved to the kitchen table and sat down. Both the login screen and the silver keyboard stayed within a meter from the wristband. They aligned automatically as I sat down, the keyboard imprinting itself on the table surface.
Okay, that¡¯s pretty convenient, I thought as I typed in my address and password. Not a lot of people used this method of input anymore. The younger generation even called it archaic, but even as a child I¡¯d always preferred the tactile feedback from my fingers on the touchscreens and computer keys. This projected version on my table wasn¡¯t exactly how I liked it, but it would work until I found a better solution. I pulled up the email from Solomon Industries and read it again. I didn¡¯t really know what I was searching for, I was sort of just hoping something would jump out at me if I looked long enough. There was one line of text that made me think.
¡°If a bunch of lawyers are working on my behalf, shouldn¡¯t they kinda¡ talk to me?¡±
My thoughts spun as I tried to remember what little I could from when Dad was alive and working. He always visited his clients a lot during court trials to keep them informed of the steps he would take to progress their claims and grievances. According to Emily he was a special kind of lawyer, who really cared about the people they represented. There weren¡¯t many lawyers like that left in the world, instead there was a plethora of corporate teams of people who kept every rich CEO out of trouble whenever they ¡°accidentally¡± killed a hooker, or ¡°unknowingly¡± poisoned some poor community¡¯s drinking water.
I found no mention anywhere on how to get in contact with the supposed legal team that was working on my supposed behalf. The list of contacts I could reach out to had no representatives from any sort of legal department, only people who worked at the Andromeda or Solomon Industries. I made a cursory search online for any official channel, but nothing came up. I guess the only way to get in touch with them is to sign the contract.
I read the contract document over once more, just in case. It was a pretty straightforward deal. If I accepted the contract I would relinquish the right to sue any parties in the future, as well as the opportunity to make a story of the event in a way I could make a profit off of. So no books, movies or documentaries. That was alright. There were other smaller prerequisites as well, such as having to show up at an office for authentication of identity, and something about the recipient''s workplace in the case of competing companies. I tried to look for anything that might qualify as ¡°fine print¡±, just in case, but ended up actually understanding the contract''s conditions. It looked to me like a rare case of the elite actually doing something good for the people they harmed, while also making sure they had sole rights to shape the story to make them look better in the media.
I tapped the dotted line, and a separate window opened up. It was small and empty, except for a line at the bottom. I tried using my finger to draw a line and a thin black line appeared and followed my movements.
This isn¡¯t working at all.
The line looked like what a toddler would make in art class in preschool.
Let¡¯s try something else.
I splayed my fingers up against the window and moved it down to the table. I grabbed a stylus from a drawer and wrote my name in along the bottom line. This time it actually looked like an adult had written it. I filled in the date and time, and the window closed automatically. I saved a copy of the signed document, then replied to the original email with the signed copy attached.
It became increasingly easy to use the smartband as a functional computer, and as I exited my email I found myself quickly browsing the internet, just like with my regular computer. Except the band was faster, had better image and video quality, and the way I learned to manipulate the screens and keyboard was lightyears better than anything else I¡¯d ever used. The interface was so intuitive a gnarlid could probably use it if given enough time. I was never the kind of person who struggled with new technology either, rather the opposite. I would regularly help people with their devices when they visited the store I worked at, but they were mostly elderly people who needed a hand with their old phone or something.
If only these things were more accessible.
The only one I personally knew with a smartband was Emily. Other than emergency personnel or public servants, only grossly wealthy people owned this kind of technology. Originally created for Crusader, the number one hero on all of Ma?l, it was pretty quickly adapted into a more civilian version as it gained recognition and popularity with her fans.
More like brainwashed fanatics.
Still, I was having a good time using the thing. Before I knew it several hours had passed and Secundus had begun rising on the horizon. I checked the time. It was just past midnight, and I was incredibly hungry. I got up and opened the fridge, but found only old bread and some milk. I checked my balance, mostly out of habit, then decided I could afford what I liked to call Big Food. That meant a two course meal with a bread bowl to start, real meat and farm-grown vegetables for the main course, and a side of fried rice and a thick sauce, made with actual butter, not some hyper-produced substitute.
I grabbed a sweater and stepped outside into the cool night air. A few people in puffy jackets and boots gave me some pointed looks, which made me a little uncomfortable, but I kept the sweater around my waist as I walked down the street in my t-shirt and flip-flops. The flip-flops were perhaps not the best choice, because I managed to slip on pretty much every dark patch of ice on the sidewalk on my way to the little convenience store near our place.
¡°That¡¯ll be sixty four dollars, would you like to donate to the Steady Faith with your purchase?¡± The sleepy teenager behind the counter handed me the bag of items as he pointed to a rack of fliers. It had the Church of the Steady Faiths logo and pictures of old men in red and white robes on the front. The small store smelled of cigarettes and old plastics. Fluorescent lights lit up the aisles of food and hygiene products with the ubiquitous faint humming you always hear in places like that.
¡°No, thank you,¡± I answered the kid and put my hand on the countertop. It beeped as it accepted my payment, and a plastic receipt printed out next to my thumb. A guy in an aisle behind me and to the right coughed up what sounded like half a lung, and dropped a bunch of small boxes on the floor. It sounded like a nasty cold, and he was clearly looking for something to make it go away.
¡°Hey, man, be careful, please. If it breaks, you pay for it,¡± mister teenager sighed. Apparently he took his job marginally more seriously than I initially gave him credit for. ¡°Here, can you recycle this for me?¡± I picked up the plastic receipt card and held it up to the kid in front of me. He looked back at me. ¡°Huh? Oh, yeah, whatever dude.¡± Then again, I could be wrong. I didn¡¯t get to think about it much, because the other guy with the cough chose that moment to astrally fuck up my night.
¡°Both of you, shut the fuck up! You, take this and boot it, now!¡± He¡¯d come up directly behind me, holding a knife out towards me and the kid. In his other hand he held out a small device with a uni-plug sticking out the side. He shoved it into the clerk''s hand and pointed at the computer on the counter. ¡°Don¡¯t make me repeat myself, motherfucker! I will fuck you up!¡± His threats were bookended by another round of coughing, and he had to bend over with the force of each exhalation of air. It immediately took away any edge his threats may have had, but I stood still nonetheless. He swayed his way upright again, his knife hand shaking slightly. He looked pathetic. I still didn¡¯t move a muscle. A memory of broken bones and blood played in the back of my mind.
¡°Uh, sir, I can¡¯t plug this in to our system, I-I¡¯m not allowed to mess with the register.¡± The kid behind the counter put on a brave face, but he was obviously scared. Robberies, or whatever the other guy wanted, were rare in Luxin city. Especially any form of armed crime. The city council was proud of our low crime rate due to the many layers of dissuasion, such as access to free education, activity programs for people in poverty, and hundreds of city guards all armed with too many guns and not enough brains. Still, desperation would make anyone do stupid shit. If this guy was caught, the automatic camera system in the store would identify him immediately, and if he had a criminal record he would have to pay it all off in some power plant, working as an indentured servant. If not, he could get away with community service, teaching the young kids what happens to people who color outside the lines.
¡°I don¡¯t care about your fucking rules, just do it! I can see the port, just plug it in!¡± The robber was getting anxious. He stepped up close to the counter and waved the knife in the kid''s face as the kid fumbled with the little device. The uni-plug clicked in place, and a small LED lit up in red on the top of the thing. I watched, trapped in a mix of fear and anger. Fear for the pain that the knife would inflict if the guy attacked me with it, and anger at myself for being afraid of some pathetic guy with a knife.
I crawled my way through fire, suffered multiple broken bones, and survived a building crashing on top of me¡ but I¡¯m afraid of a guy with a knife?
It wasn¡¯t rational, but then neither is human nature. The store clerk seemed to be watching the computer screen as the drive was doing whatever it was designed to. It looked like he was reading something. ¡°Hey, quit staring at that! Look at me and don¡¯t try anything funny,¡± the robber shouted at the kid in between coughs. ¡°Sorry,¡± the kid blurted quickly and moved away from the computer. ¡°I-I¡¯ll do whatever you say, just please don¡¯t hurt me,¡± he continued. The guy was scared out of his pants.
¡°Fine, just shut up and stay there,¡± the robber then turned to me and gave me the most sinister look he was capable of, despite the wheezing he was doing. The knife stayed where it was, pointing up towards the kid¡¯s throat. ¡°You,¡± he started saying, then coughed up a ball of green gunk. It was disgusting.
¡°You,¡± he started over. ¡°What the fuck are you staring at, huh? You think you can do something, staying there like that? Take a hike. I ain¡¯t having you playing hero or anything, you get what I¡¯m saying? If you take a single step towards me, or lift that fancy armband to call anyone, I will make this the worst night of this kid''s life, you got that?¡± He kept waving his knife around as he spoke, threatening the kid behind the counter all the while he stared at me. This guy may have looked like just another junkie or street gang punk, but his eyes were sharp and sincere. He wasn¡¯t lying. I took a step back.
¡°Heh, that¡¯s what I thought, bitch. Now, you!¡± He turned away from me and back to the clerk. ¡°You heard all that, yeah? Same goes for you. You make a move, I¡¯m not gonna hesitate to use this.¡± The kid whimpered at the threat, and the robber barked out a laugh that was cut short by more coughing. I took a harder look at the kid while the robber wasn¡¯t paying attention. He looked like he was around eighteen years old, acne still marking his beardless face. He had oily, dark hair, pulled sideways and down in front of one eye, and he was about as thick around the arms as a dried twig in winter. He was crying. I felt a spike of shame down my spine. The robber was right, I was a bitch.
¡°Hey, could you please stop waving that knife around,¡± I pleaded. The robber barely turned his head to respond. ¡°How about you shut your mouth,¡± he muttered back. ¡°Look man, we get it, can you just please stop it so close? I¡¯m just concerned here, not trying to cause any trouble.¡± That actually seemed to have an effect, as the robber slowly turned his full body towards me. He moved his knife hand away from the clerk and took one step forward, which put him just a couple inches away from me. I felt the cold metal of the knife as he pressed it against my bare neck.
¡°Awfully stupid of you not to wear a scarf tonight.¡± He was pushing me back through the aisle as he spoke. ¡°You know what the temperature is outside? No wonder there¡¯s always someone going around coughing and sneezing when there are idiots like you just inviting that shit in.¡± He coughed directly at my face, just to really push in the irony. To his credit the knife didn¡¯t even flinch. This guy had experience.
¡°How¡¯s the program coming along,¡± he shouted back at the clerk without looking. He¡¯d pushed me all the way to the back, where they kept fridges stocked with overpriced beer and other drinks. We were about four meters away from the counter. ¡°Uh,¡± the clerk''s voice squeaked back. ¡°How do I check?¡± A low growl escaped the robber''s throat. ¡°The fuck you mean ¡®how¡¯? Just look, dumbass!¡± ¡°Okay, s-sorry, okay.¡±
The robber relaxed his knife hand and took a step back away from me. I was still pressed up against the glass door of one of the fridges. ¡°Fucking kids these days, huh? Can¡¯t do nothing right.¡± He grinned at his own stupid joke. His face made me want to scream in rage. This bastard was enjoying himself, feeling in control and strong, because he was the only person with a weapon. I wanted to wipe the grin off his face with my flip-flops.
¡°There¡¯s a percentage thing in the c-corner? It says uh¡ fifty-seven- oh, fifty-eight percent now.¡± ¡°See, that wasn¡¯t so hard,¡± the robber said, condescendingly, like talking to a toddler. About three minutes had passed since the asshole had pulled his knife and started all this. The city guards response times clocked in at about a minute flat from whenever a call was made, but I hadn¡¯t done it, and the kid was too afraid to do it. We were on our own for now. I looked at the security camera up in the corner of the store. A tiny red dot behind the lens indicated it was still recording, which meant the robber probably wouldn¡¯t kill us. A smart criminal would kill the cameras first somehow. Can¡¯t scan a face ID if you¡¯re not on, that was basic knowledge, it was in every guard show ever.
Another minute went by in silence. The robber kept coughing now and then, but had otherwise calmed down enough to casually look around at stuff. He was much less anxious now that he felt he was in control. He even went as far as to pick something out of his teeth with the knife, and it was absolutely as awkward as you¡¯d expect. My arm was getting tired of still holding the loaded grocery bag.
¡°Excuse me, sir?¡± He whipped his head around to watch me. ¡°What, spit it out,¡± he ordered. ¡°I just wanna put this bag down, is that alright? My arm is getting really tired.¡± His eyes looked down at the bag in my hand, then back up at my face. ¡°You telling me a guy like you has trouble with something as small as that?¡± he sneered at me. ¡°You ain¡¯t getting away with a shitty excuse like that, no you keep holding that. Consider it exercise,¡± he said and laughed. The sound of his laugh was grating and rough, and it made my brain itch. ¡°Right, okay,¡± I acquiesced.
¡°What¡¯cha got in there anyways, anything special?¡± He asked. I looked at the receipt card in my hand.
¡°Just some food and stuff,¡± I told him. ¡°Oh, and some chocolate and wine for my, uh, wife. She¡¯s waiting for me at home,¡± I lied. I was trying to appeal to his sense of humanity, to make him see me as someone he could relate to. ¡°Married, huh? Me too, once. What¡¯s her name?¡± Fucking shit, name, uh¡ ¡°Emily,¡± I told him while I cringed inwardly at my own lack of creativity. Perfect, now just give him your keys and address while you¡¯re at it!
¡°I know an Emily,¡± he said, and cracked a genuine smile. Fuuuuck.
¡°Oh yeah, where from?¡± I tried to keep my face calm. ¡°Just around the corner and up the road about a block or two,¡± he grinned back. ¡°She¡¯s such a nice lady.¡± Fuck fuck fuck! ¡°What a coincidence,¡± I said in the most monotone voice I could. ¡°Ye- hey!¡± He suddenly shouted and lifted the blade to my chest. ¡°Are you trying something here? Get me talking so the kid there can call the city guard?¡± He turned around. ¡°Hey, kid! You better not be getting any ideas, you hear?¡± He turned back to me and I swore I could see a hint of glee in his face, before he broke down in a severe cough that nearly sent him to the floor. He just wants an excuse, was all I could think before he swiftly rose back up and grabbed my throat. His hand felt bigger than it looked as he tightened it around my neck.
¡°Listen here, punk. I don¡¯t give a shit about you or that boy behind the counter. Those silver eyes of yours don¡¯t scare me. Both of you are meaningless to me, okay, you don¡¯t even exist, got that?¡± His breath stank, and his spittle kept hitting me in my eyes. I fought not to barf. ¡°The only thing that matters is that I get what I came here for. If that means I gotta fuck you up, then I will,¡± he continued, clearing his throat as he went on. ¡°Clerk kid, gimme an update,¡± he yelled over his shoulder, knife point pressed to my chest. ¡°Eighty-six percent,¡± was all that came back. I could see the kid over the robber''s shoulder. He was standing directly in front of the computer monitor, one arm outstretched downward, under the countertop. The kid was looking back at me, fear evident in his pale green eyes. ¡°Almost done then. Another minute or two, then we can all go-¡± A click came from under the counter, right where the clerk¡¯s hand would be. ¡°Fucking idiot,¡± the robber and I said in unison.
Chapter 8: Laughter
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 81 kg
Mental Status: Alert
Physical Status: Tense
The silence in the air just as the clerk hit the alarm button was just like the quiet instant before the explosion at the Lodestar convention. For a brief moment there was complete silence. Then the click echoed through all our ears at the same time, like an explosion of sound that only the three of us could hear. It was a quiet, tiny sound, yet it overpowered everything else in the little store. I saw the clerk''s eyes widen in shock at the realization, and I felt the grip of the robber''s hand loosen around my neck at the same time. Then he hit me. The robber¡¯s knife hand buried itself in my sternum, thankfully making a fist around the knife handle to punch with, rather than stabbing the blade into my chest. My sight blurred from the impact, and air rushed out of my mouth in a long groan. He was stronger than I had expected. Not as hindered by his cold as I had hoped.
Staggered, I fell to the floor. The robber coughed, then started walking towards the counter and the kid behind it. ¡°You done goofed, asswipe,¡± he taunted him, a hint of glee in his voice, as if this was what he wanted all along. I lost track of him for a second, for while the pain in my chest wasn¡¯t as bad as I¡¯d thought, the images in my head were more than making up for it. Flashes of fire and blood danced in the edges of my vision, and the echoes of the coughs I heard from the front, transformed into agonizing screams of people being crushed to death by falling debris. I blinked my eyes repeatedly in an attempt to shake off the panic attack I believed I was having. I managed to get a few deep breaths after a second or two, but embers still burned around the edges of my eyes.
A crash from the front of the store shook me back into focus, like a bucket of ice water on a hot day. I heard shuffling feet, hard breathing and thuds of something solid hitting a hard surface. I crawled to my feet, still clutching my plastic bag and receipt, and saw the source of the ruckus. The robber had grabbed the clerk by his shirt and pulled him on top of the counter, where the clerk desperately tried to defend himself from the knife in the robber''s hand. The robber¡¯s other hand was going back and forth between punching the clerk and holding him down.
I got up on my feet and took a deep breath. The air tasted stale, and my throat rasped as I sucked in as much of it as I could. A burning sensation appeared in my chest, right beneath where the robber punched me. It hurt a little, but I was too focused on what was going on in the front to care. Up at the counter the robber had fully pulled the clerk over the counter, and was holding on to his shirt while also trying to wrestle him to the floor. The clerk was doing a decent job fighting back, but it was clear he had no chance in the long run.
I dropped my bag of groceries on the floor, and tried to calm my nerves. A dull throbbing filled my ears, so I didn¡¯t hear the clang of the wine bottle hitting the floor. ¡°Fuck!¡± The robber''s voice was muffled, as if he was yelling at me through a wall of sand. I saw the desperation in the clerk''s eyes when he noticed me. I also noticed the look of apprehension on the robber''s face as he watched me. I took a cautious step forward, and he raised his knife towards me.
¡°Don¡¯t even think about it,¡± he snarled. ¡°What did I say about playing hero, huh?¡± Beads of sweat ran down his face and dripped to the floor. He stopped trying to wrestle the clerk to the ground. Instead he grabbed the kid by the shoulder and spun him around, turning him into a human shield. He lifted the knife up to the kids face, and pressed the edge into the acne scarred skin on his cheek. ¡°One more step, and this kid loses all future chances of getting a date,¡± he threatened. A trickle of blood ran from where the edge of the blade bit into the clerk''s face, and he winced and cried. I froze where I was.
I was no longer in the small convenience store with its buzzing LED lights and sticky floor. Around me were the dancing flames and smoky air of the convention floor, right after I¡¯d woken up. In front of me I could see Deimos, bleeding from two bullet wounds, and the metal briefcase with the logo of Solomon Industries. The throbbing in my ears increased its frequency until it became a constant buzzing of sound, permeating the inside of my head. The fear and rage from that time boiled and mixed inside me, and a pressure began rising behind my eyes. I raised my hands to my head, holding on so it wouldn¡¯t explode. I screamed.
¡°Woah, what the fuck!?¡± The words barely registered through the haze of my panic attack. ¡°You psychotic or what? Yeesh, everyone¡¯s so fucking fragile these days.¡± I understood what was happening in my head, but I had no power to make it stop. The hallucination of the aftermath at the convention was the result of my fractured mental health, triggered by the sight and sounds of the store clerk bleeding.
¡°Fucking lunatic.¡± There were sounds of laughter, then a thud and a wet squelching noise. ¡°Ugh- no, p-please stop! It hurts, it hurts!¡± The clerk was crying loudly. ¡°Yep, but that¡¯s what you get,¡± the robber said, nonchalant. My mind was burning up from the inside. ¡°Just pressing a little button isn¡¯t gonna give you any power over me, little man. It¡¯s too bad you¡¯re not the one with a weapon,¡± he continued and laughed. That laugh again, grating against the wall of panic that was my hallucination. In my head, Deimos laughed as well. A hollow laughter with no emotion or force, as his eyes sunk into his skull, and his hair turned ashen gray.
That human garbage dare speak of power, said Deimos¡¯ body, without moving its lips. The voice was strange, almost entirely void of any emotion or inflection. And it was familiar.
Show that worthless insect what Power is. Crush him. The command was like a physical wall, pushing me back out of my own memories. A tiny hint of anger marked its last words, before they faded into nothingness. Like I said. Almost no emotion.
I was back under the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights of the convenience store. Only a couple of seconds had passed since My head felt like it was gonna split down the middle, but my vision was incredibly clear, and my hearing was sharper than I could ever imagine. The burning sensation where the robber punched me earlier had only grown stronger, and steam rose from my skin as heat escaped my body. I heard the scraping of metal against bone, and watched the robber pull his knife out from right over the clerk¡¯s hip. The clerk was begging him to stop, trying anything to make the pain end. I knew that feeling.
The robber tossed his hostage aside, and started walking towards me, a sinister grin stretched across his face. He managed to make it halfway down the aisle before my foot planted itself deep into stomach, nearly lifting him off his feet. I heard the distinct crunch of breaking bones. He crashed into the counter, holding his left rib cage and began coughing violently. The surprise on his face was as clear as my own, as I lowered my foot to the floor, and glanced behind me.
I hadn¡¯t meant to move until he was nearly within grabbing range. I had planned to grab the man by his outstretched knife arm, and try to throw him to the floor, but instead it seemed my legs just took a single step that ended with my right flip-flop buried in the guy¡¯s guts. The distance I covered with that step felt strange, too. It was too far.
¡°Shit!¡± The robber spat the word out along with a glob of blood and snot. He staggered to his feet, still holding his side. ¡°You got in, cough, a lucky shot.¡± He wiped his mouth on his arm, and wheezed as he sucked in a breath. ¡°I¡¯m not gonna let that happen again,¡± he said, and charged at me, knife point lifted towards my chest. I bent my knees and lifted my hands, took in a quick breath, and prepared for pain.
The robber bent his arm back as he charged, then slashed the knife down right before he would have collided with me. The blade flew towards my face, and I jerked my head back in time, but felt the edge cut down across my chest. I grabbed his arm at the end of its arch, then twisted it as much as I could, to try to make him drop the knife. A clattering of metal against the floor told me I¡¯d succeeded, and I looked down to kick the knife away.
What I found instead was the robber¡¯s other hand clenched in a tight fist, coming up to meet my face in a strong uppercut. The sound of his knuckles hitting my chin reminded me of someone twisting an empty plastic bottle. My head snapped back from the force of the blow and I lost my grip on the robber¡¯s arm, but any pain was muted, probably thanks to the adrenaline that no doubt was coursing through my body.
To my surprise however, the robber screamed. He cradled his left hand in his right, and I saw his mangled fingers sticking out in odd angles. That hand would be useless unless he made it to a hospital fast. I didn¡¯t care.
¡°Okay, I¡¯m over this now,¡± I wheezed out in my bent back position. I was done being this guy¡¯s punching dummy, and the world shifted as I felt the power this scumbag had over the situation evaporate. I was the one with the power now, and I saw the robber¡¯s face grow pale as I straightened up and looked down at his hunched over body. He looked so small then, like a dying star next to a blazing sun. There was a trickle of tears coming from his eyes, and snot was running down his lip. Hate poured out of his dull, brown eyes, directed at myself, but it carried no weight to me anymore. I clenched my fist and drilled him in the side, like he¡¯d done with the clerk. His body folded in over my fist, before he was pushed into the shelves.
His flesh felt soft. When my first blow connected, it reminded me of that thing you do as a kid, imitating action heroes from shows and movies with your pillow playing the role of the bad guy. It was the same when I reached down to pull the guy back on his feet. The robber wore a thick jacket, solid looking pants and heavy boots. Around his neck he wore a black scarf tied into a knot under his chin and shoved down under his jacket. I grabbed the scarf around its knot and pulled. Just like my pillow when I was six, I lifted the gasping man off the floor and pulled my arm as far back as it would go.
¡°P-please,¡± he sputtered out between a couple of bloody coughs. ¡°Stop, gasp, I¡¯m sorry. I beg you,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t kill me.¡± His voice was ragged and weak, but the words reached my ears with perfect clarity. His plea for mercy filled me with disgust.
¡°Why not?¡± I asked the robber. ¡°W-what?¡±
¡°Why should I stop? Were you not about to do the same to me?¡± A look of bewilderment formed on his face. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t dodged your knife, what would have happened?¡± I asked him again. He didn¡¯t respond. ¡°What would have happened!?¡± I repeated, louder. I shook him, once, as I held him dangling over the floor. ¡°I¡¯d be out of here,¡± he coughed. ¡°And you¡¯d probably be dead.¡± Blood from his mouth hit my cheek. ¡°I see.¡±
The punch hit him in the middle of his face.
Like the pillow from childhood, I¡¯d let go of my hold and sent my fist flying at the same time. I¡¯d been aiming for his chest, but forgotten to account for gravity. I slammed my fist through teeth and nasal cartilage alike, and he whipped backwards, his body doing a half backflip. He landed face down on the floor and skidded to a stop, two meters from where I stood. He didn¡¯t get back up.
A complete calm came over me then. I took a breath and unclenched my fists, feeling the cold air rush into my mouth and down my throat. The burning sensation in my chest abated, replaced by mild exhaustion and stiff limbs. Something mangled fell out of my hand and hit the floor. It was the receipt card I¡¯d held onto. It had somehow warped in my grip, the edges curled and bent, and the text on it had bled out, making it unreadable. I bent down to pick it up, but stopped halfway. There¡¯s no time for this. There are more important things to make sure of. I looked at the still face down body of the robber.
My first instinct was to make sure he would never get back up again, but I halted. The soft wheezing of the clerk¡¯s breathing stopped me, and I passed by the robber¡¯s body to run over and check on the barely alive kid.
¡°He-help¡ me,¡± he whispered weakly. I bent down and put my ear to his chest. Thu-thump¡ thu-thump. A pulse. It was slow, but it was there. However¡
Nope, no time for dark thoughts right now!
¡°It¡¯s gonna be okay,¡± I told the clerk, and grabbed one of his hands. ¡°Just, here, hold this here, as hard as you can.¡± I put his hands over his wound and pressed. He winced, but I just kept pushing his hand down until he stopped squirming. ¡°Good, keep it there.¡± A sound from outside caught my attention and I looked out through the nearest window.
Nothing down the street.
Then I heard the pulsing of grav-mag engines. The city guard was coming.
Has it already been a minute, I thought and looked at my band. It showed nothing, and I had no clue how to make it display time quickly. I turned back to the kid on the floor. ¡°Hold on, the guard¡¯s gonna be here any second, just stay put, and keep pressure on that wound.¡±
I didn¡¯t know why, but I had to leave, and quickly. I knew I should stay, help the kid and tell the guard what had happened, but my instincts stopped me. Instead I stood and went to where I¡¯d left my groceries to pick them up. They had apparently rolled or fallen out of the bag when the shelf had collapsed earlier, when the robber had crashed into it. I gathered my stuff, grabbed a new bag from a nearby hanger and stuffed it in. More of my instincts said that time was running out, unless I wanted a whole lot of attention in the coming weeks, so I bolted for the back door and yanked it open. A storage room lit up as the sensor recognized movement, revealing shelves and boxes full of frozen items and non-perishables. And also another door. I jumped over boxes and past shelves and pushed down the handle. It was unlocked! The door flew open, and I found myself around the back of the store, in an unlit alleyway between two buildings. Snow was coming down in waves, and the ground was slippery beneath my flip flops. A chill ran through me as I stepped out into the cold night air. For the first time that night I wished I¡¯d brought better shoes and a scarf, but at least I had the sweater I¡¯d taken with me. I untied it from my waist and pulled it over my head.
Thanks for looking out for me, yet again, Em.
Clothed and protected from the snow, I slinked down the alleyway, away from the street. The blinking light from the city guards vehicles gradually grew brighter as they made their approach to the crime scene, and the little alley sporadically lit up in yellow and violet flashes. ¡°This is the City Guard. Please exit the establishment one by one, with your arms over your head.¡± Their standard greeting rang out as two vehicles stopped outside the storefront and lowered to the ground. Snow was pushed away from the pressure of the grav-mag pulses, followed by the sound of boots hitting asphalt. That¡¯s my cue!
I hunkered down and tried to run as quietly as I could down the alley, away from the lights and the people. The snow in the alley lay thick, and a bunch got into my flip flops as I moved. I had to clamp my teeth down not to yelp in surprise, as freezing cold shot from my feet and into my stomach. It was like a block of ice had appeared inside me, making my body slow and sluggish. It felt awful. I wanted to shiver, but even that seemed too much for my body as I struggled to pass over a chest high fence at the end of the alley.
Behind me the city guards were exiting the corner store with two collapsible trolleys. I watched through the chain linked fence as they brought out the robber, strapped down and unable to move. It seemed like he¡¯d come to, at least enough to begin coughing again, but not enough to start talking. I hoped. Right after him came another trolley, accompanied by two people dressed in white and red, one of them holding a plastic bag high in the air. There was a tube attached to the bag that ran down to the person on the trolley, and an automatic breathing mask covering the person''s face. It was good to see the clerk had made it out alive. I hoped he got some time off and a well deserved raise after all that.
I turned my nose down the parallel street and began making my way back home. It took a little longer, mostly because of the cold and the snow, but also because I kept going into alleys so I wouldn¡¯t get spotted. I felt like I deserved a little paranoia. The streets were mostly empty apart from the occasional car and a few people here and there, but I tried hiding my face beneath my sweater as much as possible anyway. If anyone asked I could just blame it on the cold. Luckily no one stopped me, and twenty minutes of slow walking later I finally locked the door behind me as I stepped into Emily¡¯s living room.
???
The residual heat from the oven in the kitchen filled the apartment slowly while I washed my dishes. The ice cube in my stomach had melted as soon as the smell of cooked food entered my nostrils, and by the time I¡¯d finished eating, I even thought about opening the window to let some of that cool air seep inside. I¡¯d stashed the wine and some chocolate for Emily in the fridge for her to find whenever she¡¯d come home the next morning, but other than that I had devoured everything else.
After I¡¯d come home I¡¯d dropped off the groceries in the kitchen before I ran into the shower. The hot water washed away the frosty feeling on my skin, and slowly loosened up my stiff joints. I went to inspect the wound on my chest in the mirror, but I couldn¡¯t find any trace of where the knife edge had slashed me.
Puzzled by this, I checked over the rest of my body, looking for any kind of bruise or cut after my fight with the robber. I avoided looking into my own eyes.
Nothing stood out, not even a bruise on my chin after taking that punch head on, literally. Confused, but relieved, I got out of the bathroom and dressed in warm and comfy clothes, then stepped into the kitchen again.
I spent a full hour preparing my midnight meal, consisting of a tomato soup, a half loaf of toasted bread, fried vegetables, a couple of baked potatoes, and finally, a half kilogram slab of real beef.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Any other day I¡¯d call it an insane amount of excessive spending, and I would feel guilty for months. However, any regret or guilt I might have had were swallowed among the juicy bites of fats and protein that no synthesized substitute could ever replicate. Afterwards I sat in a daze, simply enjoying the sensation of nearly bursting around the waist, until I eventually got up to clean the kitchen.
Once the dishes were done I thought about taking a shower, but a deep fatigue came over me and nearly knocked me to the floor right there. I dragged my feet over to the couch where a little blanket was bunched up in the corner.
I¡¯d rolled the blanket around me when I¡¯d come home, to fight off the cold, and then tossed it on the couch while I was cooking. It had gotten a red stain from the tomato soup, but I wasn¡¯t bothered.
I laid down on the couch and pulled the blanket up so it covered me from my toes to my chin, and turned on a livecast of the Star Chart. I blinked slowly, and a long yawn escaped my mouth. I looked at my wrist, and the shiny metal band around it.
¡°Display time?¡± I tried. A projection shot out, displaying 01:35 in big bright numbers. I jerked my head to the side, trying to shield my eyes from the bright light, but after a second I noticed that the projection wasn¡¯t all that bad. It was bright, but my eyes weren¡¯t bothered in the least, even after having adjusted to the general darkness of night.
¡°Alright,¡± I said to the metal band around my wrist. ¡°Is there a way to automatically display the time whenever I want?¡±
A screen appeared. Would you like to add a simple command for /Display Time/?
¡°Yes,¡± I answered the screen groggily. The flat silver color of the projected screen reflected the moving stars and nebulas from the star chart on the big monitor, and the more I watched, the sleepier I became.
Choose type of command: Verbal. Kinetic. Manual. I read the new words on the screen slowly, digesting what they meant.
¡°Kinetic, I guess?¡± The screen immediately changed, telling me to input an example of movement to activate the chosen command. I thought for a second, then decided on something simple. I turned the back of my hand towards my face, as if looking at a regular watch, then closed my hand. I had to repeat the motion two more times to properly register the kinetic command, but once that was done it was easy. One look at my wrist, and the current time appeared in big, bright numbers, right in front of my face. Some resizing and replacing, and eventually the time appeared comfortably across one of the segments atop my wrist.
That was all I managed before unconsciousness washed over me, and I was swept into another dreamless sleep.
???
¡°Morning, sleepyhead.¡± Something wet touched my cheek.
¡°Mhgf uhgr sthmng gnawf,¡± I begged the wet thing.
¡°Absolutely not. In fact, if you¡¯re not up in the next ten seconds, I¡¯m prepared to take drastic measures.¡± The wet thing touched my cheek again, making sure the threat came across properly.
¡°Bghu, bghu¡ Blegh!¡± I pushed the pillow I was eighty percent sure I hadn¡¯t fallen asleep on out of my mouth, and looked up into Emily¡¯s annoyed face. In her hands was a dripping wet washcloth that was slowly being lowered towards my face, like an old spy movie torture device.
¡°Okay, okay! No need for the waterboarding, I¡¯m up!¡±
I tossed the blanket aside and swung my feet onto the floor. I still caught a face full of cold washcloth, as Emily clearly didn¡¯t think I was fast enough despite still having at least two seconds left on her time limit. Momentarily blinded, I wobbled onto my feet and heard the splat of the wet cloth hitting the floor. I used my shirt to dry my eyes, and opened them to see a fiercely angry Emily inches away from my face.
¡°What on M?el were you thinking?!¡±
¡°Uh¡ I¡¯m a little lost here,¡± I said, looking confused at her wide eyed stare. ¡°If it¡¯s about the table, I¡¯m sorry. I got you some wine and-¡±
¡°No this isn¡¯t about the darn table,¡± she cut me off. ¡°Although we will talk about that later.¡± She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the kitchen. ¡°What is this?¡± She grabbed a plastic bag from one of the chairs and held it out to me.
¡°It¡¯s a bag?¡±
¡°Well done, now how about this,¡± she said and pulled out another piece of plastic, from inside the bag. It was the leftover wrapping plastic from last night''s beef.
¡°Ah, that, well, last night I got super hungry, because I forgot to make dinner, so-¡± she cut me off again by poking me in the chest.
¡°You know what I mean,¡± she said and gestured to the plastic wrapping. ¡°This is real beef! When I gave you that money yesterday I expected you¡¯d be smart about it, not go out and waste it all!¡± It was clear she was upset. The guilt I¡¯d forgotten about last night came bubbling back up as she berated me, but I fought it down in anticipation of the news I was about to give her.
¡°-and I don¡¯t even want to know. How are you gonna pay for meals the rest of the week now?¡± Her voice was hard, but her eyes belied how she actually felt, and the disappointment was almost worse than the fear I¡¯d felt at the store the night before.
¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I said with a careful smile. ¡°We¡¯re not going to have an issue with money for a while.¡± A small wave of pride rolled over me at those words. I¡¯d always wanted to be able to say something like that. Emily only looked at me with confusion and worry.
¡°I received a letter from Solomon Industries,¡± I continued. ¡°There was a settlement, where all the coma patients, like me, were represented in a class action lawsuit.¡±
I feared saying the next part about the contract I signed, because I knew Emily would have wanted me to consult her first. However, she was gonna find out at some point anyway, and sooner would be preferable to later.
¡°I signed a contract that prohibits me from profiting off of my story of the accident, in exchange for two-and-a-half million dollars,¡± I blurted out.
For a moment everything was still. Emily stood unmoving, her mouth slightly agape and her blue eyes wide with shock.
I should maybe have prepared something for this.
¡°Ahem¡ As I said, there¡¯s a bottle of wi-¡±
Emily turned on her heel and walked over to open the fridge, then pulled out the bottle, undid the cap and pressed it to her lips as she tilted her head back. I heard her swallow multiple times before she lowered the bottle again and gasped for air. She reached back in and pulled out the chocolate bar as well. Then she walked past me, into the living room, sat down on the couch and set the wine and chocolate on the table in front of her.
¡°Explain,¡± she commanded as she leaned back into the cushion.
I¡¯m dead, I thought, desperately wanting a swig of the wine myself.
???
¡°I¡¯m not mad at you,¡± Emily sighed as I finished talking. ¡°I¡¯m mad that you didn¡¯t tell me, but what¡¯s done is done.¡±
Her demeanor had stayed the same during my explanation, even when I revealed the amount of money I¡¯d receive, which impressed me greatly. In hindsight it really shouldn¡¯t have. Emily was never the kind of person to care about fame or wealth, she just wanted what was best for those she cared for.
¡°Sorry. I should have told you as soon as I opened the email. It was right after you¡¯d gone to sleep, and I had just come home from all that stuff at the hospital, and¡ I¡¯m sorry.¡±
I took a sip of my own wine glass that Emily had poured me after having drunk nearly half the bottle. I insisted it was all for her, but she demanded I at least had a glass. Besides, drinking a whole bottle of wine alone wasn¡¯t something either of us ever really did. The chocolate she kept to herself though.
¡°You¡¯re damn right, you should have told me.¡° She took a sip of her wine. ¡°You also shouldn¡¯t have signed that contract that fast. In fact, you shouldn¡¯t even be able to use your armband yet. How¡¯d you manage to charge it overnight?¡±
¡°What do you mean, how?¡± I was puzzled by the genuineness of her wonder. I thought she would know more about the operation of these devices, considering she¡¯d been using one for a much longer time than I had.
¡°Do you know how these things work at all?¡± She pointed at her own band.
¡°Sorta? I know how to use basic functions, like the internet, but that¡¯s it.¡± I shrugged. Emily chewed her lip, then looked away from me.
¡°Sorry, that was unnecessary,¡± she said. ¡°I guess I should have probably taught you how it generally functions, but I didn¡¯t expect it to activate that fast.¡± She deflated a little, then looked back at me apologetically.
¡°It usually takes three to four days of continued wear for the bands to fully charge,¡± she said.
¡°The bands are powered just like any other bio-tech, converting the thermal energy of our body temperature into electric power inside the bands with a tiny thermoelectric generator. However, it also converts all other types of energy the bands are subjected to, such as kinetic energy through movement, and of course, standard electricity, up to a certain point. Too much heat and voltage will break it, same as hitting it with a hammer would.¡±
I sat quietly and listened while she spoke. I was honestly very interested in understanding the bands more, considering the incredibly interesting ways it worked.
As far as I knew, no one had developed a similar user interface device, aside from the insanely exclusive Augmented Reality lenses that the super rich wore. The only issue with those were that they restricted the users by not functioning with regular eyeglasses, or sun shading eyewear.
The bands, while not being as private, had no such restriction, and were easier to manufacture, so their prices were at least somewhat reasonable. Still not something I could afford on my own though.
¡°The conversion of body heat and kinetic energy into the power cells takes some time, which is why the band must stay on for at least three days before anyone is able to use them,¡± Emily continued.
¡°Our bodies just don¡¯t bleed off that much heat, and you¡¯d need to run a marathon, or practice boxing for a day straight to charge it with only kinetic energy.¡± She pointed to the colored bar of light on the edge of the top segment on her own band. It glowed a deep blue color.
¡°But once that¡¯s done, this little bar fills up and takes on the user¡¯s EyeD, to, uuh...¡± She trailed off while pointing to her eyes, then leaned back and took another sip of wine, avoiding my gaze as she sheepishly started over.
¡°Never mind about that, it¡¯s nothing more than a design choice anyway. After that whole deal you just have to do the bioscan to register as the user of that specific band. After that it¡¯s basically like a fully functional computer that you can customize in any way you want.¡± She put her glass down and broke off a piece of chocolate.
¡°How do you know all this,¡± I asked her, doing my best to ignore the thing about the EyeD ¡°design choice¡±.
¡°Basic tech training course, for those of us not really suited to new technology. It took me a week just to learn how to send a GIF with this thing.¡± A soft ding came from my own wrist, and a looping video of an aquily puppy played on a small screen, just as she said the word GIF. It was Emily¡¯s favorite animal, and the video showed one swimming in a pool with a bunch of toys for toddlers, playing with them with its small front paws.
¡°Heh, cute,¡± I smiled at the looping video, then paused. ¡°Wait, how¡¯d you do that? I didn¡¯t see you do anything.¡±
¡°Voice activated sub-routine,¡± she answered quickly, as if practiced. ¡°If I say the words "GIF", and "send" in the opposite order of what I just did, my band sends that specific video to the nearest person in my contact list.¡± She smiled warmly to herself, probably thinking about the aquily. ¡°It¡¯s pretty simple, you just program a trigger for an action, and the band does the rest.¡±
¡°You mean like this?¡± I flicked my wrist, and the band displayed time like I¡¯d programmed it to the night before. It was showing 09:32 in the morning.
Emily leaned on my shoulder to get a look at my band. ¡°Yes, exactly like that¡ Damn Ash, I¡¯m betting you¡¯ll be teaching me some tricks about this thing within next week.¡±
¡°Maybe,¡± I chuckled, then took a sip of my own wine. It was nice spending some time with Emily like this, despite the way the morning began. On days we both had to work we wouldn''t see each other at all. I worked the day shift, which meant I left home while Emily slept, and she would leave before I¡¯d get back home to go get ready for her night shift. She¡¯d just gotten home from the hospital when she found me sleeping on the couch, as well as last night''s Big Food evidence. Had it not been for that, she¡¯d probably gone straight to bed.
¡°Alright, enough of that,¡± Emily said, stifling a yawn. ¡°We really need to talk about the contract you stupidly signed.¡± The light conversational tone in her voice was exchanged for a more serious one. ¡°I understand.¡± I scratched the back of my hand.
¡°First of all, what exactly did it say? Actually, just send me a copy.¡± She showed me a quick way to send a copy of the email with the contract, then started reading it. She closed the window after a few short minutes however and let out a sigh that quickly turned into a drawn out yawn.
¡°At first glance, it doesn¡¯t look that bad, right,¡± I said hopefully. Emily deadpanned in a rare moment of even her patience running out. I was on thin ice.
¡°It might not look bad to you or me, but it might be if we¡¯d understand the things that aren¡¯t really written here.¡± She got up from the couch and stretched. I watched as she picked up her empty glass and the chocolate wrapper.
¡°I still have some of dads old contacts written down, maybe I can get one of them to take a look at this for us.¡± She yawned again. ¡°But, I am too tired to do anything right now. I¡¯m going to bed.¡± She started walking towards her bedroom.
¡°Do not sign any more shady contracts while I sleep, even ones that are from Orion Solomon.¡± With that she closed her door, which was immediately followed by a thump of her jumping into bed. A few seconds later I heard loud snoring coming from her room, and chuckled to myself at the duality of my sister. Eternally optimistic and sweet when she wanted, but deadly serious when she needed.
I grabbed a piece of bread from the fridge and some of the leftover butter from last night, and ate a dull breakfast. Then I decided I was still too tired to really do anything, so I went back to my room and crawled into bed. I¡¯d been able to avoid telling Emily about the dramatic events from last night, but they were still fresh in my mind, and the glass of wine I¡¯d just drunk wasn''t exactly keeping me awake. As soon as I¡¯d gotten comfortable I was out like a dead crownlight.
???
I was sitting in bed and making command shortcuts on my wristband when I suddenly heard sounds coming from the living room. I realized the sounds were from some sort of news broadcast when a familiar vignette played, and a human-like voice presented what must have been general headlines. I couldn¡¯t hear the exact words, the volume wasn¡¯t high enough.
I must have lost track of time, because Emily only used to wake up at around four in the afternoon, and I¡¯d only slept until a little past noon. I stood from my mattress and started pulling on the sweatpants I¡¯d worn the previous night, but then I thought better of it, and tossed them in the hamper. I found a pair of casual dark jeans instead, and put on a loose fitting shirt.
Did this shirt shrink? I distinctly remembered the shirt being large enough to just fall down around my body on its own, but instead I had to pull the hem down myself. It felt a touch tighter than normal, but it smelled clean, so I stuck with it.
Wearing the same flip-flops I¡¯d kicked the robber with, I walked into the living room where Emily sat with a mug of some steamy liquid. I¡¯d been right in that she was watching the news stream I¡¯d thought I¡¯d hear. It was presented by a local studio, with an AI program that researched stories and read headlines. The anchor was a middle aged woman in a beige suit, with brown, curly hair, glossy nails and minimal make-up, and a pair of oversized, cat eye-like glasses. She was presenting what sounded like a pretty dramatic story from over in Elethia, a country on the other side of the Western Sea.
¡°Sacred black?¡± I asked out loud as I stepped into the kitchen.
¡°In the pot,¡± came from the living room. ¡°cream mix is on the counter, and your mug is in the sink.¡±
I grabbed my mug and opened the box with cream mix. I scooped a large spoonful of the light brown powder into my mug, and mixed it with water from the tap. It took ten seconds for the mix to react, and a nice thick cream swirled slowly around in the bottom of my mug. I poured the black coffee from the mug over the cream and blew the steam away as I walked into the living room and sat down next to Emily on the couch.
¡°... and shows no sign of ending, despite having raged for seven days now. We offer our thoughts and prayers to those trapped in the blizzard.¡± The news anchor lady, whose name escaped me, read her autocue with a serious, albeit slightly monotonous tone.
¡°Blizzard?¡± I asked Emily and sipped my coffee carefully. It was steaming hot, probably finished boiling just a couple minutes before I got out of bed, but it felt just perfect to me.
¡°Yeah, and a weird one at that. It¡¯s been going for days now, and not a single person has been able to go in and check on those who live in the area.¡± She sipped her own coffee, then blew hard on it to cool it down.
¡°If anyone tries to enter the area they disappear for a few hours, then come back out, claiming they¡¯ve been walking a straight line.¡±
¡°Isn¡¯t it supposed to be summer in Elethia by now?¡± I asked.
¡°Yeah, that¡¯s what makes it so weird. The blizzard is localized over one specific area, covering about two thirds of a scattered group of communities, and for almost a week none of the people who live there has been seen or heard from.¡± Emily shivered and pulled her blanket a little tighter around herself. I saw in her face that she couldn¡¯t help but care for the people inside the blizzard, and I knew that if she could, she would have been on one of those rescue teams to try and help those trapped in the cold darkness of the storm.
¡°In other news, construction of the memorial for the Lodestar Labs incident last week is, and the monument, which is built on the square outside the ruins of the Astral Hall, will be unveiled once the remaining waste has been cleared, and the place reopened to the public.¡± A tense silence fell over the living room as the news lady spoke. I felt Emily stealing glances at me, checking my reaction to what was on the screen.
¡°The Luxin City council has ordered the grounds be preserved, and a ceremony will be held at the memorial, in honor of those who tragically were lost in the horrible events that took place at the Lodestar Labs convention.¡±
The anchor turned and looked into a different camera, which placed her to one side, giving room to a slideshow of pictures and short videos that played as she spoke. Some of the pictures were from the night itself, with the fire department fighting the flames, and the medical corps of the city guard carrying various injured to safety. A clip from the aftermath of the explosion played, where a ragged man with a crazy beard was speaking to an interviewer. The clip had become infamous overnight, and hundreds of memes were generated of the guy yelling about the blast, saying he saw lots of purple glass-like shards and heard what he called the ¡°booming of Gjallarhorn¡±.
He¡¯d been dismissed as a nutjob by the general public, but that didn¡¯t stop the internet from running wild with the footage. It was free real estate. I¡¯d purposefully avoided looking up the incident, but some things were unavoidable, and memes were omnipresent.
¡°Rumors claim that Mr. Solomon and The Director will make appearances at the memorial, but these claims have, as of yet, not been corroborated by any official spokesperson from either Lodestar or Solomon Industries,¡± the news anchor said to the camera as the clipshow ended.
¡°Regardless, the ceremony will be held in two weeks, on Saturday the twentieth. The gates will open at eleven, and the ceremony itself begins at noon. Tickets are available online to the general public.¡± The look on Emily¡¯s face spoke volumes in the silence as we watched the stream.
¡°Bereaved families and survivors of the tragedy will be given free access to the grounds, and a special pass to avoid any lines. We hope to see you all there. Our last story of the day¡¡± Her voice faded as Emily turned the volume down and got up from the couch.
"You gonna go?" She asked quietly. I looked from her to the screen, and then back at her.
"I think¡ maybe not? I''m honestly not sure. I try not to think about it too much." I took a deep breath. "I¡ I''m triggered by certain things. They take me back, forcing me to relive the fire and the screams. I know I should probably talk to a therapist about the whole thing. Think you could help me with that?¡±
Emily grabbed her blanket and started folding it while she thought.
¡°I¡¯ll ask around at work,¡± she said, and gave me an encouraging smile. ¡°I¡¯m gonna head out in a few minutes, is there anything you need before I go?¡±
I thought about it for a second, then shook my head. ¡°I think I¡¯m okay. I feel pretty good today,¡± I said, trying not to think of last night''s fight. The rushing sensation of power in that moment had been intoxicating, but also terrifying.
¡°Physically I actually feel better than ever, especially after the, uhm, expensive meal I had.¡± I smiled sheepishly at Emily, hoping she wouldn¡¯t start chewing me out again. She eyed me expectantly, but when I didn¡¯t say more she sighed in exasperation.
¡°Fine, as your medical caretaker, I¡¯ll let you go to the gym. Is that what you wanted?¡± I nodded excitedly.
¡°Alright, just don¡¯t overwork yourself, okay? And make sure you wear something warm, the temperature has been dropping fast the last few days.¡± She hit me with a steely look, making sure I got the message. I clicked my teeth shut before I could say anything stupid and just kept nodding.
¡°Good. Oh, and say hi to Tyler for me. I saw her at work one day, I think she was visiting a friend. She asked about you, and I told her about¡ you know. She seems nice.¡±
I blushed, thinking about the last time I¡¯d seen Tyler, and how I¡¯d very obviously stared at her ass while she was bent over grabbing my drink.
¡°I¡¯ll tell her you said ¡®hi¡¯,¡± I assured Emily, trying to hide my reddening face. Emily just winked, and left the living room to change. I realized as she closed the door that I hadn¡¯t really spoken to anyone but Emily after I woke up from my coma, at least not properly. I wasn¡¯t usually someone who sought out a lot of social interaction to begin with, but strangely, right then the idea of seeing Tyler and just having a normal conversation made me hurry into my room and grab my gym bag.
Chapter 9: Gains
The usually thirty minute long run from our apartment building to the gym took just half the time despite deep snow and ice, yet my breathing was calm and relaxed when I stepped inside the automatic doors. My body honestly felt amazing after the minor exertion, and I was looking forward to a couple of hours doing some proper physical activity after almost seven days of rest.
Unless you count me beating up a diseased criminal as ¡®proper¡¯ physical activity.
I shuddered, and made an attempt to shake the thought out of my head, which only resulted in a flurry of snowflakes falling from my hair. Steam rose from my warm skin as the frozen crystals melted in the controlled air temperature, and hit me as droplets of cold water. The running had worked as an excellent warm up, and I was eager to get the warm winter clothes off.
Inside Supernova¡¯s lobby were a few other people either getting ready to start their workout, or coming out from one. There were more people than I was used to, and while the room was plenty large enough for me to not overhear any conversations, it still felt a little cramped in there.
¡°Holy shit, Ashton!?¡± The sudden words came from an open door, where I saw neon green hair wrapped in a tight ponytail, sticking out behind a stack of boxes that were being carried by who I could only assume was Tyler. The boxes were quickly dropped, and sure enough, behind them was the familiar face of Tyler, although with a new and unfamiliar hair color.
I thought I¡¯d try to say something clever, but before I got the chance, she rushed forward and grabbed my shoulders. Her usual perfect service provider smile was gone, exchanged for a wide, white toothed grin. The joy on her face surprised me, and I could feel my ears burn at the genuineness of it all. Then she spoke.
¡°You¡¯re actually here! I heard from your sister that you survived the explosion, but I kind of thought you¡¯d died in the coma after not hearing anything else. You¡¯re incredible, dude!¡± Okay, correction, she was screaming. Several people looked over at her outburst, but she didn¡¯t seem to mind. I was too busy wishing the floor would open and swallow me whole to do anything else than hiding my face in my jacket collar. I could hear murmurs from the watching crowd, and people from inside the training studio were looking at us through the glass wall.
The exhilaration from my run was gone. The walls felt too close, I was dizzy, and a low buzzing hum in my ears was slowly growing louder. The relaxing chat I¡¯d fantasized about on the way here was quickly turning into a nightmare, and all I wanted was to run away and hide.
¡°Hey, are you alright?¡± Tyler asked. Her voice sounded muffled. I wanted to just nod my head like a normal guy, and say it was fine, but I couldn¡¯t. I knew there¡¯d be more people here than when I usually came to work out, but the stares and whispers almost paralyzed me. I shook my head, still hiding my face in my jacket.
Tyler turned her head side to side, finally noticing all the faces turned in our direction.
¡°It¡¯s all of them, isn¡¯t it,¡± she said quietly, so only I could hear. I nodded again, daring to look up from the floor and into her eyes. They looked serious. She nodded back, once, then grabbed my arm and spun around, pulling me along with her.
¡°If anyone needs something from the front desk it will have to wait,¡± she said at the room, then she stuck her head just past the glass door into the studio. ¡°If anyone asks, I¡¯m in a meeting!¡± Several hands rose to indicate they¡¯d heard her incredibly loud shout, and one dude shouted back, ¡°No sweat, Ty, I¡¯ll get the front in a sec!¡±
¡°Thanks!¡± She turned and crossed the floor, still dragging me after her, and opened one of the ¡®Staff Only¡¯ doors on the side.
¡°There, all alone,¡± she said after closing the door behind us and turning on the lights. It was a medium sized staff lounge, with a small kitchen, a couple of couches and two work desks next to a shelf full of fitness products. I looked around the little room, and eventually let go of the tension in my shoulders after making sure there really were no one else in there with us. Tyler had walked over to the fridge, and had pulled out what looked like a bag of dried grass, which she zipped open and poured some in a cup.
¡°Take your shoes off over there, and hang your jacket on that pole,¡± she said and pointed at the back of the room. I did as I was told. In the meantime Tyler poured water in a boiler, then set the thing to heat up. By the time I¡¯d sat down on the nearest couch the water was fully bubbling, and she poured it over the leaves in the mug. She stirred it with a spoon, and when she set the mug in front of me the leaves were gone, and the water had a dark golden color to it.
¡°Drink it,¡± she said and sat down in the couch opposite mine. ¡°Uhm¡ What is it?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s tea,¡± she said, as if I knew what that meant. My confusion must have been plain on my face because she chuckled lightly, then smiled reassuringly. ¡°It¡¯s something I learned about from my grandmother. She worked with plants back in the day.¡± She leaned forward and dipped a finger into the steaming liquid. She pulled it back out almost as soon as her skin broke the surface.
¡°Ooh, yep, still hot!¡±
She put the finger in her mouth and sucked it for a second, before pulling it out and blowing on it. I did my best not to stare. The whole situation felt incredibly surreal.
¡°Mm, okay, so, you know how some plants are used for medicine and stuff, and how others can be used for spices and things? Well, my grandmother taught me how to dry and mix a whole bunch of different types of leaves and herbs to make this.¡± She gestured at the drink in the mug in front of me. I bent over the cup and smelled the contents. There was in fact an aroma of herbs in the scent I smelled, but there was no chance I could identify whatever the ingredients were.
¡°Smells good, right?¡± She said, smiling eagerly. ¡°Just wait until you taste it. It¡¯s gonna be faint, but that¡¯s kind of the point of it.¡±
¡°Faint how?" I asked.
¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s meant to sort of be the spiritual opposite to coffee. It doesn¡¯t necessarily make you sleepy, at least not this blend, but it does calm you down.¡± She looked me up and down, her eyes lingering at my tense shoulders. ¡°Trust me, it¡¯ll be good for you.¡±
I eyed her somewhat suspiciously, but reached out and grabbed the mug.
¡°Sip it carefully, our water cooker is industrial grade,¡± she said with a bit of added drama to her voice. She was a lot calmer than I¡¯d expected from a woman like her. Judging by the loud colors she wore, her personality among other people, and the casual way she would dance to the music on the gym speaker system, I¡¯d always thought of her as the wild, extrovert type. Don¡¯t get me wrong, I liked that side of her, but at the moment I very much appreciated the calm, gentle way she was acting.
I lifted the cup to my lips and tasted the drink she¡¯d made me. At first it tasted a little bitter, kind of like coffee, but it was a lot smoother. Tyler watched quietly while I held the cup and tried to identify all the flavors I was tasting. I couldn¡¯t place a single one, so I did the next best thing I could think of, and started chugging.
¡°Woah, hey, take it easy,¡± Tyler said and reached out reflexively. She stopped herself halfway to avoid bumping into me, and watched as I emptied the cup in a final gulp.
¡°Dude, that was boiling a minute ago! How did you not burn your whole mouth right now?¡± Tyler was staring at me wide eyed. I winced. I¡¯d forgotten about my apparent immunity to temperatures.
¡°I¡¯m okay, I drink a lot of coffee, so I¡¯m pretty used to the heat,¡± I said, trying my best to sound reassuring. ¡°Besides, I think it helped. I feel alot better now, so, uh¡ thank you.¡±
She eyed me for a second, then slowly leaned back into the seat cushions. ¡°You¡¯re welcome,¡± she said, still studying my face. Her eyes softened then, and she gave a light sigh, before crossing over to come sit in the same couch as me. I scooched over to give her extra room. She smiled at that, then sat down, leaning sideways on the seat.
¡°So,¡± she said in a more serious voice. ¡°Are you gonna tell me what happened? Out there, I mean.¡± She gestured towards the door to the entrance hall. ¡°I heard from your sister what happened at Lodestar. Kinda why I thought you were dead. Sorry.¡± She smirked apologetically and looked away. ¡°It¡¯s¡ Don¡¯t worry ¡®bout it. I¡¯m tougher than I look, I guess,¡± I said, and smirked back. It was weird, the blunt way she spoke about Lodestar made it easy to just brush it off. Or at least, not feel so depressing.
¡°Well, maybe physically,¡± I continued. I didn¡¯t love having this conversation. It reminded me of all the things I didn¡¯t like about myself, and I hated how it meant I still needed to do something about it. Still, I¡¯d done it before, I could do it again.
¡°It¡¯s what you guessed, really,¡± I began. Tyler inched closer on the couch, probably because I was speaking down at my feet, trying to avoid being seen.
¡°I don¡¯t handle people very well. Groups, specifically.¡± I picked at my nails. ¡°I do fine with individuals, and I can handle it at my job, but if there are a lot of people somewhere, I generally stay away. That¡¯s why I try to come here in the mornings, when there''s less¡ People.¡± I sighed.
She waited silently for me to continue, giving me space to breathe and think. I lifted my head and inhaled deeply though my nose, then exhaled through my mouth. I repeated the process twice more, then continued.
¡°I have this irrational fear of letting people down, and if I ever become the center of attention in any kind of way, it compounds several times over. I can¡¯t handle the pressure of somehow providing a conclusion to their attention that would satisfy their reason for giving it, so I do my best to stay unnoticed.¡±
The words came slowly, and I had to sometimes stop and consider the best way to phrase it in a way that sounded coherent. I didn¡¯t have all that much practice explaining this issue. Deimos had asked about it before, and I¡¯d told him some, but he quickly inferred the general meaning, and had decided to act as a wall if the need would arise.
No more of that anymore either. Unless that was just another lie. Fuck¡ I miss my friend.
¡°I just want to live a nice life, where I can spend my time how I want, without having to justify my existence to the world,¡± I said, and finally looked at Tyler. She was still leaning sideways, head resting in her hand, with a small smile that curled up and behind her palm.
Cute, I thought quietly.
¡°That¡¯s everything?¡± Tyler asked after a couple seconds.
¡°More or less. There are nuances. Some people are worse than others, stuff like that.¡± I leaned sideways to fully face her. ¡°I handle things like this just fine, although I had to work at it from when I was a kid. You are never gonna see me do public speaking, though.¡± She laughed at that. I chuckled too, but felt my cheeks flush just a little, nonetheless. I dragged a hand through my hair, pulling the still dewy spikes out of my face. The hum in my ears had completely died down, and I was breathing steady again.
¡°I think I¡¯m¡ I feel a lot better now. Thank you.¡± Tyler grinned and grabbed me by the shoulder. ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m glad to be of help. You can come talk to me whenever I got time, alright?¡± I nodded and smiled back at her.
¡°Speaking of time, I need to get back to work soon. Are you going to be alright?¡± She held my gaze, smiling at me. ¡°I will be.¡±
¡°Good,¡± she said and slapped me hard on the back. ¡°Because your pre-workout shake has been waiting for you for way too long, and I have a kickass list playing over the speakers right now!¡±
¡°You¡¯re right. I was coming here to get a workout after all. Can¡¯t let a coma get in the way of my health, right?¡± I tried sounding cool, but I¡¯m pretty sure it came off a little dorky. Tyler smiled anyway, so I guess it wasn¡¯t a complete failure.
¡°Hell yeah, there we go!¡± She rose from the couch and started towards the door. ¡°You can change and leave your stuff here. Just call my name when you¡¯re done training, and I¡¯ll unlock the door for you. It auto locks when closed, but can always be opened from inside. See you out there!¡±
Then she was gone, out the door. I looked after her for a few seconds, then picked my bag up and got changed.
I am gonna crush this workout!
???
With a lighter mood, and fresh caffeine coursing through me, I entered the training studio of Supernova Gym. I¡¯d gotten a little stiff from sitting and talking to Tyler, so I warmed up with another run on the treadmill. Physically I still felt amazing, and as soon as I started running I quickly pushed the speed past my usual pace. Minute after minute went by faster and faster, while my feet thundered along the wide rubber lane of the treadmill. I ran four kilometers in record time, clearing the distance in only ten minutes. And I could probably have gone faster.
I got off the treadmill breathing a little quicker than normal, but not by much. I took a sip from my water bottle and wiped down the interface panel, then headed over to the large area for bodyweight training. I did some stretching and basic exercises, and once again I managed to go way past anything I¡¯d ever managed before.
My body felt light and flexible, as well as strong and solid, all at the same time. On top of that it felt like I had endless stamina, and at some point I just stopped counting each squat or pushup, figuring I¡¯d stop when I got bored. I usually trained like this to make sure every part of me was properly warm and limber, but I still hadn¡¯t broken a sweat. Not that I wasn¡¯t warm, however. In fact, I felt like I could dive into a tub of dry ice and take a nap.
I should probably have been a little more worried about¡ well, me, I guess. If I had seen anyone else do the things I did that day, I would suspect them of some form of cheating, either mechanical or medicinal. There were several reliable ways to exceed the human limit, both physically and mentally. Stimulants were expensive, sure, but people would do anything to gain an edge. International relief forces were supported by doctors to make sure they always operated to the best of their ability. Heroes dodged the stigma even further, being sponsored by many of the manufacturers, and their respective governments. A hero failing their duty reflected poorly on their cities leaders, whose responsibility it was to make sure they were able to do their job. ¡°Bulwark against forces of Evil¡± and all that.
I was no hero, though. No government would ever bankroll an ordinary citizen, much less me. I was just some guy. A guy who felt like he was on fucking fire.
I walked away from the bodyweight section after doing a double set of my planned program. I considered going on one of the machines I usually used for just a second, then made a sharp turn towards the free weight area. Large stacks of plates, dumbbells and metal bars were organized by weight, and the area was populated by absolutely huge men. The intimidation factor of this area was enough to keep me from working out there when it was full. I only did free weight lifts if it was almost empty, that way I didn¡¯t have to ask anyone how much they had left, or if a bench was taken.
This time I ignored them all. I walked in there and sat down in one of the squat racks, and pulled my shoes off. Despite the intense warm up and bodyweight work I¡¯d already done, I hadn¡¯t broken a sweat, and no odor came from my feet. So I tossed my shoes to the sides, grabbed a nearby bar and got ready to squat. Habit demanded a warm up set with just the bar across my shoulders, but once that was done I went to the stack of weights and pulled off two 20kg plates. It would be heavy, sure, but nothing I couldn¡¯t handle.
Before, my maximum squat weight was around a hundred and twenty kilograms. Not extremely impressive, but respectable enough. I could probably have gotten up to one-thirty with some help, but I didn¡¯t want to bother anyone for a spot, and when I trained with Deimos I blamed soreness for not pushing my hardest. In all honesty I was scared. Scared I would fail and need help. Scared I would hurt myself, or worse. Scared that, if something wrong happened, it would affect everyone at the gym. I couldn¡¯t handle that, so I just accepted never reaching my full potential. But that was before.
On the bar were two 20kg plates on either side, with 10kg plates on top of that, also on both sides. With the bar itself being twenty kilograms, I was now carrying one hundred and twenty kilograms across my shoulders. I took a deep breath, then bent my knees and hip, going into a deep squat.
Okay, this feels lighter than expected¡ a lot lighter, actually.
Let¡¯s see how it is on the way up.
I tightened my stomach, activated my thighs, and began pushing as hard as I dared. I felt my feet press firmly against the floor, and it was almost like it gave way, as I quickly shot up to a standing position. Suddenly that firm press of the floor against my feet disappeared, as I¡¯d pushed so hard I actually jumped. With a hundred and twenty kilograms on my back.
It wasn¡¯t high, only about a centimeter, but for half a second it was like gravity had just let me go. Then I landed, and had to take a quick, stabilizing step backwards so I wouldn¡¯t fall. A grin crept its way onto my face, and I reset my position. With relative ease I did another nine repetitions, then put the bar back on the pins that held it in place. I stared blankly at myself in the mirror in front of me. I looked¡ bigger. Not just physically, there was something else too. Something I couldn¡¯t explain. Silver eyes stared back from my reflection.
Are my eyes¡ glowing?
It was hard to catch, but I saw it. In the deep recesses of my pupils, a tiny pinprick of light shone. Like a single star on a clear night sky. The more I looked, the more I realized that my iris was glowing as well, like someone was shining a weak nightlight inside my skull. It was almost imperceptible, but I swear I saw it. A second or two later, it faded, and my eyes were normal again.
Still silver, though, as if that wasn¡¯t reason enough for concern.
I looked away.
Weight. I need more weight.
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I left the safety of my squat rack and ventured out between the other strong lifters, looking for any unused stacks of weight I could find. In a few moments I¡¯d built several small towers around my rack, then started adding them to the bar. It quickly filled up on either side, with the plates growing smaller and lighter towards the ends, until the last plates only weighed two-point-five kilogram. That still left me with a couple of extra plates that wouldn¡¯t fit on the bar, unless I switched some out.
Don¡¯t look, I told myself, again and again. You can¡¯t be anxious if you don¡¯t look.
If I failed, the pins would save me from being crushed by the bar, and I would just have to accept that. But if I succeeded¡ Well, let¡¯s just say I¡¯d be able to put my name up on the record wall.
The bar pressed down hard across my neck and shoulders as I wedged myself under it. I was facing away from the mirror, trying to focus on nothing but the weight on my back. The bar bent on either side as I pressed my feet down and stood up. The metal bounced lightly as I took a single step forward. I took a deep breath, and bent down.
The weight immediately threatened to break my posture, and I fought to keep myself from collapsing. The further down I got, the harder I had to fight, and when I finally got far enough to stop, it felt like my feet were digging into the sole of my shoes. My toes curled hard, trying to find more grip, and my legs shook with the exertion of just staying upright enough not to fall. A loud groan born of desperate effort escaped my lips, and I saw a couple other guys turn their heads toward me.
No no, not now, I begged silently. I was stuck.
¡°Hey man, need a spot?¡±
I don¡¯t know who asked. I grunted a response to the negative, but two burly guys quickly jogged over anyway. All I saw was their shoes as they carefully approached me. A pair of white sneakers with a blue circle, and a red and blue pair with elevated heel pads.
¡°Dude, you got this,¡± I heard one of them say encouragingly. Elevated heel pad, I thought.
¡°Sheesh, he¡¯s been holding that position forever,¡± I hear from White Sneakers. ¡°This guy¡¯s fuckin¡¯ radiates, bro!¡±
I tried to ignore their comments, but they kept hyping me up, trying to help me focus. It was not working very well, and my legs were starting to give. I had to get up quickly, or I¡¯d fail.
¡°Bro, just take a deep breath. I can see you¡¯re struggling, but we got you.¡± It was Elevated Heel again. ¡°You just focus on standing up, got it?¡±
¡°Can¡¯t.¡± I grunted. "Legs. Failing.¡± A red outline tinted the edge of my vision.
¡°Don¡¯t worry about your legs, bro,¡± came from White Sneaker. ¡°It¡¯s just gravity tryin¡¯ to keep you down. Don¡¯t succumb to the world like that, trust in your muscles to do what they were made for. Just stand up.¡± He spoke in a deep calm, but commanding voice, as if what he was saying wasn¡¯t merely a suggestion.
Don¡¯t succumb to gravity? Just stand up!? What in the absolute-
¡°Three, two, one, UP!¡± They barked in unison. The word shocked me so much I almost forgot where I was and what I was doing, but in doing so they gave me a strange form of clarity I had never experienced before.
Just ignore it. All of it. The noise, the light, the weight. Stand up.
I pushed.
Just stand up.
Everything around me went still. Not like my vision went black, or my ears turned deaf, or anything like that. Everything literally stopped around me as I straightened my legs and calmly stood up. Then the world started moving again, but slowly, like it was catching itself back up to speed. The same happened to all sounds, like they had stopped, and were now spinning back up. The only sound I heard clearly was the vibrating hum in my ears that seemed to come from inside my own head.
I turned my head from side to side, taking in my surroundings in the stillness. The bar was still bending under the weight of all the plates, but it had stopped digging into me, and I felt my grip relax. Next to me I saw the excited faces of two regular gym bros, a blond, green-eyed guy in a black tank top and white sneakers, and a black haired, red-eyed man in a brown hoodie with red and blue shoes with elevated heels.
It felt like I had to look up at them, which was strange because I was certain they were both around my own height. Then I looked down at the floor again.
It seemed to me like I was standing in a smooth crater, like a small breakfast bowl, with only a very slight curve upwards. The curve was even flattening out as I watched, at the same pace that sound and motion returned to normal. In a matter of seconds the stillness passed, leaving me to wonder if it had ever even happened.
¡°Woah!¡±
¡°Shit, watch out!¡±
The surprised exclamations from the gym bros confused me. I¡¯d been stable the whole time, but they acted like I¡¯d almost hit them with the bar on the way up. I stumbled back a step, and felt the bar stop as it clanged against the metal of the rack. The weight shifted on to the pins, and I released my grip and sat down on my knees. I inhaled deeply, then stood up slowly while I exhaled. I wasn¡¯t tired at all.
¡°Dude, it ain¡¯t cool to pretend like that,¡± said the blond guy with the white sneakers. ¡°I thought you were really struggling there, me and Vince were ready to catch you anytime. Then all of a sudden you get up so fast I thought you were gonna leap off the floor. I mean, it looked effortless!¡± His buddy nodded along, looking suspiciously at the plates on my bar.
¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°But I really was struggling. I was stuck at the bottom and couldn¡¯t get up, but then you came and told me to just stand up, so uh¡¡± I trailed off, not really knowing how to explain what had happened.
The blond guy raised an eyebrow at me, then he gave the other guy, Vince, a questioning look. Vince, who had taken a couple of plates off of the bar, shook his head in response, confusion and wonder apparent on his face.
¡°Stand up?¡± the blonde said incredulously. ¡°You just ¡®stood up¡¯ with almost two hundred and sixty kilos across your back, after struggling at the bottom for nearly half a minute?!¡± He crossed his arms over his wide chest and scowled skeptically at me. Vince came back after putting my weights down and started whispering something to the blonde guy.
Two hundred and¡ what?
I counted the weights on the bar, including those Vince had taken off. The blonde guy was right, it summed up to two hundred and fifty seven and a half kilograms of weight, all in all. Definitely a new personal best.
¡°Sorry for asking this, but you¡¯re not, you know¡ sponsored, are you?¡±
It was Vince¡¯s turn to ask, and by the look of it he felt quite guilty about the question. To be fair, I would have thought the same if I saw someone like me suddenly do something like that.
¡°No, absolutely not, I promise. I¡¯m far from being important or famous enough for anything like that,¡± I answered sheepishly. All these questions and suspicions made me uneasy, and I just wanted this whole thing over with. ¡°I¡¯m all organic.¡±
Or, as organic as someone without a pulse can be, I guess.
The last few days had not exactly reinforced my confidence about what was happening to me.
The two burly guys looked at each other, seemingly coming to some form of agreement, then turned back to me. They were both looking at me with a hard, serious expression. A spike of dread shot up my spine as Vince grabbed me by the shoulders and locked his red eyes with mine.
¡°We¡¯re sorry we doubted you,¡± he said.
What?
Another hand slapped me on the back.
¡°Yeah, we apologize,¡± said the blonde man.
Expardon me?
My head spun with contradicting emotions. I was sure these tank-like men were about to rip me to shreds and throw me out on the street. This complete one-eighty was the last thing I¡¯d expected. The apologies were so genuine, I had no idea what to say, so I defaulted to what I usually did in situations like these.
¡°Huh?¡± I said, with all the wisdom and confidence I owned. Which was none.
¡°Let¡¯s start over,¡± said the blonde guy. ¡°Hi, my name is Donald, or Don to my friends. This is Vincent.¡± He waved his hand at his friend. Vincent smiled. I nodded slowly.
¡°We saw you warm up earlier, and we were very impressed with your routine. It¡¯s rare to see someone take their bodyweight training that seriously, and then move on as if it was a light jog. I mean, you look pretty athletic, but that was some Equinox level effort.¡±
That was incredibly high praise. I was so confused.
¡°Yeah, I took you for some kind of gymnast, or martial artist at first.¡± It was Vincent¡¯s turn to speak. ¡°Kinda blew me away when you started repping out one-twenty like it was a paperweight.¡± He nodded approvingly, but stopped and made a face as he considered his next words. ¡°Buuut we got kinda concerned when you more than doubled it. We thought you had bit off a little more than you could chew, so we wanted to step in and help you out. You even said so yourself, right? You couldn¡¯t get up.¡±
I just kind of stood there, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
What the fuck is happening right now?
I didn¡¯t understand why they were being so nice to me. I still wasn¡¯t saying anything either, mostly out of not knowing what to say, but that seemed just fine with the two gym bros.
¡°And look, we have tons of experience with situations like that,¡± Vince continued. He was getting fired up. ¡°And once that happens, the best thing to do is just block the world out and push as hard as you can. Focus on that one thing you have to do, and then let your body follow that signal, and nothing else.¡±
¡°But then you surprise us by not just getting up, you make it look easy!¡± Donald said. ¡°No offense, but you don¡¯t exactly look like the type of guy who could do that, and so we thought¡ well, you know.¡± Donald trailed off , but Vince quickly picked up again. He seemed to be the better talker amongst the two.
¡°It¡¯s hard to forget that it¡¯s not always about mass and strength. There¡¯s technique, breathing, your mental state, muscle recruitment, all those things that might seem small, but that really adds up, right? So, we figure, obviously you know something we don¡¯t.¡± The way his face lit up like a childs on their birthday gave me the impression that he, and probably Donald as well, took their gym time very seriously. I had a bad feeling I knew what Vince was about to say.
¡°Come work out with us, and teach us what that is!¡±
¡°If you can, of course!¡± Donald quickly added to Vincent¡¯s plea. I stared at them, slack jawed, eyes flicking between them.
Shit.
???
Donald and Vincent were actually pretty calm guys. It turned out they were twins, and had been training partners since forever. Kept them motivated and driven, Vincent had said. Looked to me like it worked wonders. Both had wives and a couple of kids, worked full time jobs, and were a few years younger than me, but still they had stellar physiques.
They looked like professional athletes, with thick thighs, wide chests, and arms so defined they were like carved rock. On top of all that they were both very handsome men, and it all accumulated into making me very unaccomplished and uncomfortable.
After my initial shock and confusion faded, I managed to hesitantly explain what seemed to happen the second they had shouted at me to get up. I was worried they wouldn¡¯t believe me when I told them about how the world had stopped moving, and how the sensation of weight just evaporated, but they just nodded along, as if it was something that could just happen whenever.
¡°It¡¯s pretty normal for weightlifters to go through something like that when they get in the zone, know what I mean?¡± Donald said. Vincent nodded along with a serious expression, as if this was some profound wisdom.
¡°Get in the zone,¡± I echoed. I¡¯d heard the expression before, but mostly only used by older generations. ¡°I think I get it, that¡¯s when you find an acute sense of focus that lets you perform difficult things better, right?¡±
¡°That¡¯s the idea,¡± said Vince. ¡°Some people do it by playing familiar music, others through a series of breathing techniques.¡± He sat up on the bench he was lying on, turning his head sideways so as not to collide with the metal bar resting on the raised handles.
¡°Personally, me and Don prefer aggro.¡±
¡°Aggro?¡±
"Aggression." Donald explained simply. I still wasn¡¯t following. ¡°Here, watch.¡± He motioned for Vincent to get back under the bar, then took up a position at the top, where Vincent¡¯s head laid. He helped Vincent pick the bar up, and then crouched with his hands held forward, ready to help at any time. It was loaded to a total of a hundred and forty kilos.
¡°You stable?¡± Donald asked.
¡°Yup.¡± Vincent sucked in a deep breath, just like I always did.
¡°Good,¡± Donald said, his voice low and husky. ¡°Now go get your hate.¡±
I blinked, dumbfounded.
¡°Get your hate, and shove it, shove all of it, into that bar. That bar is nothing but steel and pain. Use your pain, Vince, and twist that fucking steel into a useless pile of scrapmetal.¡±
Donalds words were quiet, almost a whisper, but I still felt the intense force behind them, as Vincent lowered the bar slowly to his chest, then pressed it back up with a roar.
¡°Hnnnnggraaah!¡± Loud and quick, the sound scared me, but also fascinated me. There was so much emotion and personality in the way the large man handled the weight in his hands. Muscles rippled, and striations ran under his skin as it was pulled, taught under the power of his movements. The bar lowered and rose several times, before eventually Donald grabbed the bar and pulled it back to the handles above the bench.
¡°Good work,¡± Donald told his brother, then turned to me. ¡°See that? That¡¯s aggro. I know it can be a little scary-looking and stuff, but it¡¯s what works best for us.¡± I swallowed, and looked at Vincent, who was sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout the noise, I kinda forget there¡¯s other people around,¡± he said.
¡°No problem.¡± I stared at the heavy bar. I wanted to try, but I was nervous. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I understand it, but at the same time it makes sense.¡± It wasn¡¯t about pushing yourself to do something, it was about letting go of the world around you, and just do it. Then the world had no choice but to be affected by the power you owned, no matter how big or small that effect was. Once you could make that happen at will, you could progress and expand upon it.
¡°Dude, are you okay?¡± I vaguely heard one of the twins say. ¡°Uh-huh,¡± I answered without looking at either of them. My brain felt like a storm. Neurons were firing on all cylinders in a hurricane of thought, and in the eye was a bead of silver light, blinding me from the inside.
¡°Don, wait, don¡¯t touch him,¡± said Vincent. ¡°Give the man some space. I think Ashton just had an epiphany.¡± I started walking towards Vincent, who jumped off the bench to give me space.
¡°You sure about that? He looks kind of¡ blank. Hey, Ashton, mind telling us what¡¯s going on in there? Are you good?¡± Donald was concerned for me, which was nice of him, but ultimately a waste of time. I didn¡¯t really register it. I didn¡¯t have room for distractions.
¡°Let go of the world, and trust the muscles to do the work,¡± I mumbled, as the raging storm inside me grew wilder.
¡°See, I told you he realized something,¡± Vincent remarked, somewhere far away. I laid down and slipped my hands around the steel of the bar above my face. It felt warm as my fingers squeezed it. I braced my shoulders against the bench, and took a deep breath. The storm in my mind came to a dead stop, and right as I pressed the bar up from its handles, I heard Donald''s voice with total clarity.
¡°Is it just me, or are his eyes glowing?¡±
Yeah, apparently they do that sometimes, I thought to myself, and lowered the bar gently to my chest. It laid there for a solid second. Then I sucked in a sharp breath, and lifted the bar with such force, that when it reached the end of how far my arms could stretch, the momentum lifted me off the bench for a split second, before gravity reclaimed control, and slammed me back onto the thin cushion that separated my back from the metal surface of the bench itself.
I held the bar there, in that outstretched position, and saw that once again the world had stopped moving. Everywhere I looked felt like looking ¡®up¡¯, and the surface of the bench bent under my weight. I blinked my eyes, and it was over. The world was back to normal, and the storm in my head was gone. A hand closed around the bar and pulled it back onto the rack, and I let go of it. I sat up and stared down into my hands, then rubbed them together. It was like touching a smoldering furnace, but it didn¡¯t hurt.
¡°How was that?¡± I asked absentmindedly.
¡°That looked¡ good.¡± Donald remarked hesitantly from behind me. ¡°Your form could use some work when you lift off from the rack, but otherwise no notes. Tell me, what do you usually do most at the gym?¡± I had to think about that for a bit.
¡°Well, I try to do as much as I can.¡± I answered honestly. ¡°I run, I do bodyweight training, sometimes I do some basic martial arts stuff, and then I lift. Mostly legs or shoulders.¡± I tried to gauge Donald¡¯s reaction, but I didn¡¯t know the man well enough to decipher more than his friendly smile. I found it weird that some people could just be that jovial and sociable, but then I thought about Emily. She was also like that, so maybe I shouldn¡¯t judge too much.
¡°That¡¯s a tough routine, you must have great endurance,¡± said Vincent as he re-racked a couple of dumbbells. ¡°I guess so. I used to be in pretty bad shape a few years ago. A friend helped me start working out. Taught me what to do and how to do it, and eventually I learned to really like it.¡±
Donald chuckled. ¡°No better way to start than getting dragged along by a friend, huh? Bet you two are pretty close.¡± I frowned slightly. Images of Deimos flashed through my mind from all the good times we¡¯d had, all the way up to our last moment of friendship, laughing together in the hotel room provided to him by Lodestar at the convention.
¡°Yeah,¡± I mumbled quietly. ¡°Pretty close.¡± The twins shared a concerned look at that, but I didn¡¯t want to ruin the mood any further. I slapped my cheeks with both hands and raised my voice.
¡°Never mind any of that, we¡¯re here to train, right? Give me those dumbbells, Vince, let¡¯s get serious.¡±
I didn¡¯t care to wait for a response, but the gym bros were quick to pick up on my vibe. Before long we were all standing with weights in our hands, determined to do our best. We spoke little, and in the silence I tried focusing like I¡¯d done before, and let go of the world around me, but I couldn¡¯t quite get it. I finished the workout without any more flashes of inspiration.
When we finished the twins went straight to the showers, but not before making me promise to work out with them again sometime. I saved Vincent¡¯s contact info on my band before they left, then went to go stretch. I¡¯d been working out for a little over two hours at that point, but I still showed no signs of fatigue. It felt like my body was able to keep going like that for several more hours, and I probably would have too, if it wasn¡¯t for the growing hunger I soon had to deal with.
At least that never changes. Small victories, I guess.
¡°Hey there.¡±
¡°Gah!¡±
¡°Sorry! Sorry, it¡¯s just me,¡± said Tyler as she took a step back, trying to hide her wide grin behind her hands. She must have snuck up on me, because I hadn¡¯t heard any footsteps coming my way. I grabbed her outstretched hand and let her pull me up from the floor I¡¯d fallen down on.
¡°I didn¡¯t mean to scare you that bad,¡± she said while choking down a fit of laughter. ¡°You just looked so focused with your eyes closed like that, I couldn¡¯t help myself.¡± She stuck her tongue out and winked at me. I coughed and looked away, trying to hide how shy she made me feel.
¡°It¡¯s fine, you¡¯re not that scary,¡± I said, acting cool. ¡°You just startled me.¡±
¡°Alright, whatever you say.¡± She smiled slyly. ¡°Anyway, who were those guys you were working out with today?¡± She waved a sleek hand at the free weight area.
¡°Donald and Vincent. They¡¯re twins. For some reason they took an interest in me, and helped me figure some stuff out. Strange guys, but nice enough after a little while. They seemed really serious about their fitness, and even asked for my input.¡±
¡°Huh.¡± Tyler looked out towards the reception, one hand on her hip. ¡°Are they friends of yours?¡± Her tone was slightly apprehensive as she surveyed the gym, one section at a time.
¡°Not, really. I met them today. Why, is something wrong?¡±
¡°Come with me,¡± she said, then grabbed my arm before I had the chance to react. She took me to the front desk, and sat me down next to her as she got on the computer. ¡°What were their names again?¡±
¡°Donald and Vincent.¡± She typed in the first name on the keypad beneath the screen, and a list of people named Donald appeared. There were more than I¡¯d expected, around eleven or twelve. Some basic information was listed beside each person, like date of birth, contact information and membership status. After staring at the short list for about a minute, Tyler opened a new window and made a new search, typing in Vincent¡¯s name this time.
Another list appeared, however this one was much shorter. Only three names appeared.
¡°Okay, at least this¡¯ll be easy,¡± Tyler mumbled as she read the information next to the names. With a motion of her wrist the two lists aligned next to each other in individual windows. She studied them back and forth for a bit, then slumped into her chair, rubbing her neck.
¡°What¡¯s up?¡± I asked. She pointed at the two lists in front of us. ¡°You know I¡¯m here pretty much all the time, right?¡± I nodded. ¡°And because of that I see pretty much every face that comes through those doors. Except¡¡± she hesitated and bit her bottom lip.
¡°Except what?¡± I was getting extremely curious. ¡°Except,¡± she let go of her lip and looked at me. ¡°I have never seen them here before.¡± I eyed her. ¡°Aaand, it can¡¯t be because they¡¯re new members, because none of these people got a membership this week, or even have the same birth date.¡± She pointed at the screen. ¡°I don¡¯t think I even saw them come in, and that¡¯s literally my job.¡± She huffed and tapped a long nail against the plastwood desk.
¡°Okay, so what does any of that mean?¡± I asked her nervously. She stopped tapping, and looked at me. Her face softened and she let out a sigh. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Honestly, it could be nothing. I just like knowing, you know?¡± Something told me that wasn¡¯t entirely right, but I went along with it anyway.
¡°I do,¡± I said. ¡°Mm, I thought so. No one likes being left in the dark.¡± The way she said it made me think she meant it in more ways than one. Her low, soft tone, and the words it formed reminded me of another darkness. The void I¡¯d seen during and after the events at the convention.
The void¡ Something happened in there, didn¡¯t it? I spoke to some¡thing?
I was pulled away from my thoughts when Tyler suddenly slapped my shoulder. ¡°Shit, speaking of! I worried about you after leaving you in the staff room, but apparently there was no need for that! I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you put in that much effort before.¡± She brushed her acid green hair to the side and gave me another of her sly smiles.
¡°Uh, thanks, I guess?¡± I wasn¡¯t entirely sure if it was a compliment. Then I realized what she¡¯d just indirectly told me. She noticed me during my workouts.
¡°You¡¯re welcome.¡± Her cheerful tone reminded me of Emily. Which reminded me of what she¡¯d said about taking good care of myself, and that I was absolutely starving. I needed to eat something, and fast.
¡°I better get going,¡± I muttered and rose from the little office chair. ¡°I, uh¡ I¡¯m really hungry.¡± Tyler stayed sitting, but patted me on the back as I stood. ¡°Thanks for today,¡± I said. ¡°I think I really needed it.¡±
¡°Anytime,¡± she said. ¡°Text me before your next session. I bet I¡¯m a much better workout buddy than whoever you met today.¡± She winked and tapped my wrist. A second later a light shone that indicated I¡¯d received a direct message from someone. It was a loop of an animated black cat in a skin tight suit, dancing to a nonexistent beat. The name of the sender was Valerie Tyler Kyoh.
¡°Valerie?¡± I asked.
¡°Forget you saw that,¡± said Tyler. I thought for a second she was joking, but then I looked back at her. The hard look in her eyes could have crushed rocks into dust. She was not joking. I gulped, then laughed nervously and edited her name on the message screen. The second I finished, her expression turned back to normal. Her attractive, sharp features returned, and her eyes showed no signs of wanting to commit murder.
¡°Good,¡± she said, almost entirely without the threat that had belied her words a second ago. ¡°See you soon then?¡±
¡°Yeah, Tyler. See you soon.¡±
Chapter 10: Priorities
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 81 kg
Mental Status: Determined
Physical Status: Drained
My body was no longer normal, that much I understood. But the more time passed, the more I discovered just how much I had changed after my near-death experience. There were the obvious things, such as my pulse having disappeared, the lack of any signs of injuries from the explosion, and of course¡ My eyes. Then there were the more subtle things, like my resistance to temperature, the unending hunger pangs, and the appearance of the strange humming or buzzing that sounded like it came from inside my head along with fire that danced at the edge of my vision.
Lastly, the things that were most difficult to explain. For instance, at the convenience store, I was certain the diseased thief had managed to slash his knife across my chest. Except I had taken no damage. He¡¯d also pulled off a perfect uppercut, but rather than my chin, his hand was the thing that broke. Then there was the focus I could achieve, where the world around me ceased to a halt, and the strength and stamina I suddenly had in abundance. It was all so overwhelming.
I had thus far not really dealt with the emotional trauma of that night. I knew I had to find the source of what was causing whatever was happening to me, but the only possible answer lay locked away in those burning memories, protected inside a metal briefcase with four digital coded locks.
I needed information. Something that could help me identify and categorize what was going on. And the only people I knew of that could possibly help were Deimos, my once best friend turned possible terrorist, and The Doctor, also known as Dr. Lucienne Astra, the woman who designed the answer to the world¡¯s energy crisis. Only problem was I assumed both of them were dead. At least no one had heard anything about Dr. Astra, and no official casualty list had been released to the public yet. According to Lodestar''s news channels, they were still excavating the area for potential undiscovered victims.
Then there was Deimos. Last I¡¯d seen him he¡¯d been bleeding from several bullet wounds. He¡¯d been fighting with The Doctor over the briefcase, but despite a ruined leg, I¡¯d gotten to it first. Emily had refrained from asking about him during the few days I¡¯d been home, but I knew she was curious.
Not that I wasn¡¯t curious myself, I just wasn¡¯t ready to start going down that path just yet. Too many conflicting emotions made it difficult to decide what kind of outcome I was prepared to face. If he was alive, somehow, I wasn¡¯t sure if I wanted to ask him a thousand questions, hit him, or just scream at him. If he was dead¡ I didn¡¯t know if I would do anything at all.
No, there was no point going in that direction, not yet. Looking into Lodestar should be my first step, trying to find someone to talk to there. And I even had a way in.
I was sitting in our apartment living room after dinner, nursing a small cup of protein coffee. It tasted a little off, because of the synthetic powder mix, but the feeling of fresh caffeine was worth it. I¡¯d been thinking about that tea drink Tyler had made me earlier, and how downing the whole thing in one gulp had shocked her so much. I figured that I might need to handle certain things with extra care in the future, unless I wanted to explicitly advertise the fact that there was something wrong about me.
¡°Play last year''s recording of the Rose Nebula, speed at three hundred percent,¡± I muttered towards my smartband while sliding two fingers through the air. The band was sitting on the table, operating on stored power, projecting a moving image of the Star Chart, as well as a window with a bunch of lists I¡¯d written. The view of the Star Chart changed, zooming in on my request, bathing the room in crimson and violet colors.
Then there were the lists I¡¯d made. On the first, there were several names I¡¯d taken from the contact sheet from Lodestar¡¯s settlement contract. I¡¯d chosen all the people I couldn¡¯t also find using a simple name search, and added their mail info to the list.
On the second list I¡¯d written down every detail I could think of pertaining to the changes I was going through. Everything Emily had told me that night I woke up, and up to my experiences at the gym last night. It wasn¡¯t a very long list, and none of the points were very detailed either. I was working under the assumption that someone else had the information needed to properly explain all of it. That was what the first list was for.
It was the day after my weird workout. I¡¯d gone home and made myself another large dinner that night, but saved some for when Emily would be home. Something was bothering me about Dylan and Vincent, the way they changed after asking me if I was sponsored. The wonder twins had seemingly come from nowhere, they weren¡¯t even members at Supernova, and helped me right when I was about to fail. It was too coincidental to be true, and Tyler¡¯s reaction to them only made it worse.
I made a general search on different social media sites, looking for either of the huge men, but without any last name there wasn¡¯t much I could find. That, coupled with the image of Tyler¡¯s expression fresh in my mind, turned worry into anxiety, and I had to stop before it got any worse.
A steady stream of stars had been necessary for me to fall asleep that night, despite the exhaustion that hit me after dinner. As the anxious thoughts swirled around in my head, so did the humming in my ears, almost like a substitute for the heartbeat I knew would have been thumping just as loudly in its wake.
In the blinking quiet light of a thousand tiny star systems, the hum was like the constant sound of a low bass note, vibrating inside my head. It had become the second most annoying part of my existence, and it only appeared when I least wanted it. Stress, anxiety, any situation where a person''s heart rate would otherwise be elevated, I could count on it being there, making it all worse.
Eventually though, the projection from my smart band had calmed me down enough to fall asleep. I woke in the early morning from the clattering of plates from the kitchen, barely noticing that Emily had returned from work, but quickly succumbed to sleep again. In my dreams I floated on a stream of light through the endless oceans in space, bathing in the light of suns long since dead and forgotten.
I went back to focusing on the list of names from Lodestar. None of them were incredibly impressive or important sounding. Most of the names I¡¯d chosen were noted as assistants of one kind or another, and probably didn¡¯t have the kind of access I wanted. I assumed that whoever had a hand in Doctor Astra¡¯s work was never gonna agree to a meeting with someone like me out of nowhere.
No, if I wanted answers about Doctor Astra¡¯s work, and what really happened to me, I had to work my way up somehow. I could always go public. Try to find someone with a platform that would host me, and demonstrate some of the more obvious peculiarities. Pretty sure a man with no pulse would generate enough clicks to go viral pretty quick. That would also violate the contract I¡¯d stupidly signed, however.
Besides, if I was gonna be honest with myself, I would most likely freak out by the thought of having thousands of people see or hear me on any kind of stream.
¡°Exit Rose nebula,¡± I said at the band. My head was feeling heavy from trying to organize things, and I needed a change of scenery. ¡°Display current stream of Rigel.¡±
The lights in the room changed from deep reds, to a more comfortable white and blue hue. The blue hues from the slowly rotating star made it easier to focus, and helped me shake the leftover drowsiness that still hadn¡¯t left my body. The three cups of extra strong coffee I¡¯d drank had taken their sweet time kicking in. The steaming mug in my hands wasn¡¯t making much of a difference either. A yawn forced its way through me as I stretched my arms forward, putting the warm drink on the table.
My energy felt so out of control. From one day to the next I run at a dead sprint for seemingly hours, only to be completely drained of energy after a meal and a long rest.
¡°List two,¡± I croaked. ¡°Add ¡®inconsistent energy levels¡¯.¡±
The voice command was recognized by the smart device, and the exact words appeared at the bottom of the list as a separate point. With every new point on the list I grew more dissatisfied with the whole idea. Sure, it granted some level of control, but it did nothing about my ability to do anything about it. I was as powerless as I had always been.
Well, perhaps not exactly. I still had another three days free from work, and enough money to feed myself for at least another couple days. I brought up my personal account, just to check. A new window opened, asking for a password, along with a virtual keypad. I typed in my password, which was the number of black hole candidates in the galaxy, and pressed a thumb against the metal of the smart band. A second later my balance was displayed on the screen, along with any other financial information I might have wanted to check.
Ugh, I hate this.
Profile: Ashton Etrigan
- Ashton Etrigan holds ownership and rights to his own name and actions.
- Ashton Etrigan holds ownership of any financial value tied to this account, and may spend it however he sees fit, in accordance with National and International Law.
- Total balance: $2,107.45 (Expand)
- Total Remaining Loan/Mortgage: $109,732.68 (Expand)
I let out a deep sigh as I scrolled past the depressing lack of depth in my profile on my way to the summary. I could have just brought up my total balance, but I had signed a contract since the last time I¡¯d properly checked. To my relief I still owned my name and body, so that was good. What wasn¡¯t as good was the frightfully small amount of money I owned. I usually tried to be careful, but Autobills were a bitch.
Well, I did spend a pretty large amount on food recently. And if things are going the way they are, that isn¡¯t going to change anytime soon. I really need to set up that meeting.
I closed the window and tipped my head back over the couch, leaning against the wall. If I could just focus I would eventually find a way to solve everything. I just needed some more rest, some more coffee, and a little more¡
POWER?
¡°Mmh, what,¡± I inhaled sharply and jerked my head upright.
¡°I said, wake up, Ash, someone wants your attention...¡± My sister¡¯s voice trailed off as I opened my eyes and was temporarily blinded by the bright blue and white light reflecting off the walls.
Emily¡¯s somewhat blurry face was staring at me from across the table. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, clearing my vision enough to notice the weird look Emily was giving me. Except, it wasn¡¯t directed at me. It was close, only a few degrees off, enough to make me worry I¡¯d done something stupid in my sleep. But she wasn¡¯t looking at me.
I realized when her eyes flicked from left to right that she was reading something. And, judging by her expression, it was some pretty juicy stuff. With each new line she read her single raised eyebrow rose another half centimeter. She looked so stupid by the time she finally finished, I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. I shut my mouth as she turned her incredulous grimace towards me, and tried to keep a neutral expression. Her eyes bored into mine, and suddenly that face wasn¡¯t so funny anymore.
We stayed like that for a moment, staring at each other. Me, searching Emily¡¯s face for a clue to the reason behind her reaction, and her, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape.
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I broke the silence first. ¡°Em,¡± I said softly. ¡°What¡¯s wro-¡±
¡°What the fuck does ¡®immune to knives, question-mark¡¯, mean?¡±
Oh, shit.
I glanced at my smart band on the table next to the cup of half-drunk coffee. It was still on.
Shit, shit, shit!
¡°I can explain!¡± I hastily blurted out while snatching the band from the table. I slipped it onto my wrist and blanked it. The light in the room immediately returned to normal, which was more than enough for me to see the dreadful look in Emily¡¯s eyes.
¡°First of all, I¡¯m okay,¡± I said, standing up slowly. ¡°There¡¯s no need to worry.¡±
¡°No need to worry!? Ash, it¡¯s my job to worry! Especially when I find stuff like¡ whatever that was!¡± She waved her hands around, gesticulating wildly. ¡°You better have a damn good explanation for¡ well everything!¡±
A small window winked into life across the surface of my band at that moment, announcing itself with a soft chime. I looked at the name written there.
Sorry Em, I just have no idea how to handle this conversation right now.
¡°Okay, Em, I¡¯ll tell you everything. I just gotta take this first, okay, then I¡¯ll be right back, I promise!¡± I squeezed past her and into the hall leading to my bedroom. Once there I shut the door and accepted the call by lifting my wrist to my ear.
¡°Hello, Mr. Neumann.¡±
Frank Neumann, the General Manager at the store I worked at, was the worst kind of person I knew. A sleazy bootlicker who leveraged his position to harass and belittle his employees and the work we did, then took all credit for himself whenever the regional manager came around, despite never doing any work. All he did all day was sit in his office, watching some sport event on one screen, and us workers on the surveillance cams.
¡°Ashton, finally! I¡¯ve been trying to reach you all day!¡±
I checked the log for missed calls, and there were only two, the first one being from twenty minutes ago. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sir.¡± I tried to come up with some kind of believable excuse. ¡°I¡¯ve been sleeping a lot recently.¡± It would have to do. It even made sense.
¡°Don''t give me that crap, Ash, no adult sleeps past noon,¡± Frank said. He was obviously annoyed by something, judging by his tone. ¡°Anyway, I need you to come in to work. We¡¯re understaffed and pressure¡¯s high. How fast can you be here?¡±
I held my hand out and stared at Frank¡¯s name on the open screen.
Excuse me!? I thought I was given sick leave, what the fuck is he talking about?
¡°Sorry sir, but there must have been some mixed signals here. I was told to take some time off after the incident at¡ you know,¡± I trailed off.
¡°Whatever man, you sound good enough to me. I don¡¯t have the time or money to let you off the hook every time one of you needs a mental health day, or whatever. So I¡¯m ending your little vacation, today. Now get your ass here, you¡¯re on the clock.¡± Then there was no more sound, and the call screen closed.
Fuck¡ I should¡¯ve stayed with Emily. Like I give a shit about Frank. He should be the one helping out. It¡¯s his store, he should be the one taking responsibility for it.
That thought made me ache suddenly. Hadn¡¯t I just sort of done the same thing to Emily? Hadn¡¯t I just left her with no other choice, wondering why I didn¡¯t care what she thought?
Shit. I¡¯m such a dick.
I sighed. Frank Neumann might have been one of the most lazy and unmotivated people I knew, but you could always trust him to ruin your day somehow.
I clenched my fist, took a deep breath, then slammed my head into my knee. It didn¡¯t hurt, but the shock from the impact still helped push away the mental grime in my head.
¡°Emily,¡± I called as I walked back out to the living room. She looked up at me from the couch. She¡¯d been crying.
¡°I¡¯m a dick. I¡¯m sorry.¡±
Frank could go fuck himself. I sat down and started talking.
???
I told Emily everything. Everything I could think of, from the night at Lodestar until that morning with the lists. I told her of Deimos and The Doctor, their argument while the building burned, and the ensuing fight between them. She took that part pretty well, although Deimos¡¯s betrayal came as a shock to her. I could relate.
I explained what the list was. To put things into context I also had to tell her about the convenience store fight, however. Emily did not react well to that story, especially when I mentioned the knife and the violence. I got off with a medium scolding, having promised that I was okay. What mostly annoyed her about it was that I¡¯d evaded the law, instead of staying to report the incident. She huffed, and we moved on, but I was far from being off the hook.
II finished by telling her about the increased stamina, strength and energy, and what had happened at the gym. I was determined to tell Emily the truth, she deserved that, but I still left out the part where Tyler had taken me to the staff room and given me the tea drink. That memory was just for me.
¡°And now you¡¯re still feeling like you¡¯re running on empty?¡± Emily and I sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch. I had just wrapped up my story. ¡°Pretty much. I mean, I feel normal, just kinda tired.¡±
It hadn¡¯t taken too much time getting through it all. Emily was pretty awesome in that regard. She took things as they were, and found a way to deal with them. It¡¯s probably what made her such a good nurse.
¡°Does it worry you?¡± She asked.
¡°No,¡± I said, then stopped to think about it. ¡°Actually, yes. My eyes, they worry me. I can¡¯t look into a mirror for too long. It feels like there¡¯s something else staring back, something that¡¯s not really me.¡± There was something more to it, but I couldn¡¯t for the life of me dig the memories out from the dark recesses of my mind. It frustrated me to feel something so close, without being able to grab it.
¡°You know, you¡¯re not the first person in our family with silver eyes.¡± Emily said.
¡°I know,¡± I muttered. ¡°Dad had them.¡±
I might not have had many - or any - memories of my father, but I¡¯d seen moms pictures. Emily had one on her nightstand as well. Mom, dad, her, and little baby me in moms arms. It was printed and framed.
¡°It feels weird to share that with him. Dad was a lawyer. He was smart, he fought for those less fortunate, and he was determined and motivated. He actually fit the color of his eyes.¡± I sighed and looked into Emily¡¯s clear blue eyes. It was a semi-rare color for eyes, and a very pretty one. Few things in nature shared that special shade, unless you looked past our atmosphere. It always reminded me of young stars.
¡°You really shouldn¡¯t hold on to those beliefs,¡± Emily said with a crooked grin. ¡°I know mom was strict, but even she gave them up eventually. They¡¯re just colors.¡±
I knew I was being stupid about my eyes. It had been decades since the religion had had any real societal influence. That didn¡¯t make it meaningless, though.
¡°Let¡¯s move on,¡± Emily said, looking over my list again. ¡°What else here is worth diving deeper into?¡±
¡°Alright. So I know I should be more worried about what¡¯s going on, not having a heartbeat and all, but that¡¯s just the thing. It doesn¡¯t bother me at all.¡± Emily eyed me.
¡°It¡¯s weird, but it feels good!¡± I told her. ¡°The same goes for mostly everything else. My mind feels clearer, and when I¡¯m not as tired as today, I feel like I could do anything.¡±
¡°Anything? Really?¡± Emily deadpanned. I gave her my most innocent smile.
¡°Well, within limits I mean. Not like I¡¯m a hero or anything.¡± Emily held her gaze for a second, then blew out a breath and chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s a very good thing,¡± she said, smiling. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Ash, but you¡¯d be a pretty lousy hero.¡±
¡°Hey! What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡±
¡°You¡¯re always late to your own doctor''s appointments, you spend most of your free time looking at stars, and you hate interacting with people.¡± She extended a finger for each point she rattled off, not even making an attempt at holding back her sass. ¡°You want more, or do we agree?¡±
¡°No,¡± I sighed dramatically. ¡°I¡¯ll be honest, you¡¯re probably right. I¡¯d be a pretty lousy superhero.¡± I smiled at the kindhearted bullying, though. Emily always knew how to cheer me up.
I took the opportunity to get us back on task while the mood was still light. There were actually a few things Emily could help me out with, and it was high time I dealt with something important.
¡°Anyway, I think I came up with a few questions. I don¡¯t know if this is something you would know, but I figure it¡¯s worth a shot.¡±
¡°Sure, I¡¯ll answer what I can,¡± she said with a reassuring smile. I could always trust Emily to do her best to help someone, no matter how little she could contribute. She would¡¯ve made an amazing hero.
¡°Okay, so, I don¡¯t have a pulse, but I still function like a normal person, yeah?¡± I grimaced at the word ¡®normal¡¯. Emily nodded slowly, so I kept going.
¡°Well, if I don¡¯t have one, how does my body move nutrients and energy around? That¡¯s how a pulse generally functions, right? The heart pushes blood around to feed energy and stuff to the body?¡± I might not have gone to med school, but I knew enough. Years of going to the gym had taught me a few things.
¡°That¡¯s a¡ good question,¡± Emily answered wonderingly. She gave me a testing prod where my jugular would be pulsating normally, then sat back when nothing happened.
¡°Your summarization of the cardiovascular system is, while extremely simplified, pretty correct. It circulates the blood, like you said, through all veins, arteries and capillaries, until it comes around back to the heart, where the process starts over again. What you skipped over is how closely tied this whole system is to our respiration.¡±
At this point I admit she was speaking somewhat over my head. It must have been clear on my face, because Emily grimaced, then pointed at both her mouth and chest.
¡°Every time we take a breath new energy comes in, and the heart works hard to spread it evenly across every process the body manages to keep alive. Bigger processes require more energy, which is precisely why we breathe harder during, let¡¯s say, a long run.¡±
The way Emily explained it reminded me of what I¡¯d done at the gym, where the world halted and I lifted weight far above the human average. I sucked in a large gulp of air, then suddenly I¡¯d been able to lift weight far above the human average, with absolute ease. One thing about what Emily said made me think, however.
¡°Hold on, if something as thin as air is that energy dense for things like exercise, why not just eat something while running? Shouldn¡¯t that have a ton more potential energy in the form of calories and stuff?¡±
Emily turned her hand side to side as she bobbed her head.
¡°You¡¯re half right,¡± she said with a reassuring smile. ¡°Food in general does contain more potential energy than oxygen, but then there¡¯s digestion.¡±
She rose an eyebrow at me expectantly, to see if I caught her meaning. I nodded in understanding, although to be honest I only caught the basics. Food was more energy dense, but it took longer to reach every part of the body due to having to be digested first. Oxygen, on the other hand, had no such restriction, so it reached the bloodstream much quicker.
It reminded me a little about how a star worked. At the core a star is essentially a physics based generator. It uses the massive gravity in its center to smash hydrogen molecules together until they turn into helium. The blast of force this fusion creates ignites the helium as it escapes the center of the star, and a massive ball of fire orbits the core. This process cycles millions of times per second, generating the fiery balls of gas and gravity we know as stars.
Besides the fire, it sounded to me just like how humans worked, with food and air and stuff. Practically identical.
Emily was eyeing me.
¡°Right, yeah, I get it,¡± I finally said out loud, after not responding for just a second too long to feel natural. Emily¡¯s words about digestion had shaken something loose in my mind.
¡°While food does contain more potential energy, it takes longer to digest, ¡° I winked, ¡°whereas oxygen goes directly into our respiratory system through the lungs or something.¡±
¡°That¡¯s good enough, I guess,¡± Emily said with a chuckle. ¡°There¡¯s a lot more to it, involving a ton more biology, but you got the gist of it.¡± She got up from the couch and stretched. Her blue eyes shone in the late morning sun, and she looked a lot happier. I wasn¡¯t always the best brother, but I liked to think I was good at making up for my messes.
¡°You hungry?¡± Emily asked. ¡°I¡¯m gonna make pancakes. I figure the best thing to fight your exhaustion is to just stuff you full. Or what do you think?¡±
I smiled up at her, and a light hum started buzzing in my ear.
¡°I could eat.¡±
Chapter 11: Frank
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 82 kg
Mental Status: Curious
Physical Status: Normal
Public transport in Luxin was bad. I was forcefully reminded of this when an older woman next to me on the station began loudly bemoaning the waiting times of all wheel-driven vehicles. True, cars with wheels were usually slower than other, Grav-Mag enabled vessels. They were also forced to react to the condition public roads were in, which at the moment was extremely slippery. Six weeks of winter had left many car-owners in debt, having to repair damages caused by physics. However, it economically beat the alternative by lightyears. I wasn¡¯t a booking-a-private-ride kind of rich. Not yet.
The practically medieval network of landlocked buses were another victim of these conditions, and as such my ride to the mall I worked at was late. I found myself reluctantly agreeing with the woman¡¯s whining when the bus¡¯s estimated arrival changed from two minutes to three. Frank was already pissed at me, and I really didn¡¯t need any more shit from him.
After my talk with Emily, and the stack of pancakes we made and ate together, I decided it was in my best interest to take Frank up on his offer to come in to work. This decision was cheerfully encouraged by several strongly worded messages from Frank himself, as late morning turned into early afternoon. Emily had even chimed in, reminding me about the importance of a steady income. I only bitched about it for a minute or two before I started getting ready.
The money in the contract I¡¯d signed had tricked me into a sense of security, I¡¯d realized. A security that didn¡¯t really exist. It wouldn¡¯t last forever, and until I had it in my hands, I should still keep working as normal. Especially if I was physically capable, which after my gym session was evidently no longer a problem. At least as long as I didn''t do anything too crazy, like attempt to lift the weight of a car again.
After lunch Emily had contacted one of dad¡¯s old friends, who¡¯d agreed to help us with the legal stuff surrounding the contract, as well as getting me in contact with someone at Lodestar. He said that while a direct line to Mr. Solomon was impossible, there was a good chance he¡¯d get me a meeting with someone from the R&D team that worked in preparation for the convention.
The bus eventually arrived, only ten minutes late. A makeshift plow had been strapped to the front of it. It didn¡¯t look particularly helpful. The angles were crooked, and the metal looked rusted and old. I pressed a finger against the scanner as I boarded, and it chimed cheerfully as it validated my ticket. Another thirty minutes later I got off and waded through the snow until I finally crossed the main entrance of the DigiSea Mall and shopping Centre.
The mall was barely filled. Small groups of people sat or walked about around the open court in the main hall of the building, but the noise still bled through my old earplugs. A twenty-four hour radio station played constant music throughout the mall, and the sound of people''s voices bounced around the great entrance hall due to its natural acoustics.
I gritted my teeth and headed towards the staff-only stairways that led to the back of almost every business in the building. It was mid afternoon, so the stairs were empty, as most of the employees at the different stores were almost certainly doing closing shifts, and their opening shift coworkers had probably already left for the day.
I walked up a floor and down the long hall that eventually led to the backroom of my store, called Spetro. It was a special parts and repair shop for everything from remote controlled toys for kids and old game consoles, to home appliances. We also sold a random assortment of used phone devices, prank products and home office accessories. Anything people would pay for, really.
I reached the door to the changing room/storage area behind my store, and was about to scan my access card when I heard Frank¡¯s grating voice coming from the other side of the door. It sounded like he was yelling at whoever was currently there with him, and he sounded angry. I hesitated at the scanner, fear and curiosity mixing in the pit of my stomach.
¡°And when it happens again, because I know you¡¯ll fuck it up again at some point, it¡¯s coming outta YOUR paycheck, got it?!¡±
Something crashed to the floor, and sounds of broken pieces scattered behind the door. Someone whimpered, and I thought I recognized the voice of one of our younger employees.
¡°Now clean this shit up while I try to smooth over your mess.¡± Frank¡¯s voice grew more distant as he moved towards the front, but I still managed to catch his last words.
¡°And if Ashton decides to actually show his ugly mug at some point today, you¡¯re gonna stay here until closing and study that manual until you can recite it to me backwards. If Ashton asks, you tell him you just like reading it, and nothing about this conversation, or you¡¯re out on your ass.¡± There was nothing more to hear after that, as Frank presumably went out to ¡°fix¡± whatever problem apparently had appeared.
The skin across my knuckles was stretched white from how hard I was gripping my key card. In my mind I saw images of things I wanted to do to Frank at that moment, and none of them were any less than gruesome. The memories from the convenience store brawl came to me, and I knew that the line between a normal shift and a repeat of that night was not very thick.
I swiped my card to open the door, and took a calming breath as I stepped across the threshold.
YOUR RESTRAINT IS ADMIRABLE, BUT ULTIMATELY UNNECESSARY
My legs froze mid stride, just a bit over half through the doorway. A tingling feeling flickered up my back and across my head, as I felt more than heard the words. No sound or voice came with them, only a slight vibration I couldn¡¯t sense the source of. It was as if something was speaking to me from inside my own brain. And it wasn¡¯t the first time.
Then it spoke again.
THERE IS NO NEED FOR HESITATION
NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I GUARANTEE YOU ARE SAFE
The words weren¡¯t hard, nor were they soft. Monotonous and seemingly without beginning or end, they existed briefly, then stopped. Only the vibrations inside me confirmed that they had ever actually been real.
THE POWER IS HERE
JUST TAKE IT
That was it. No more vibrations, and no more words.
I stood there, halfway through the door, waiting, but nothing else happened. The door beeped, an automatic obstruction warning, and Frank¡¯s red face appeared as he leaned in through the curtain to check what the noise was about. His mouth twisted into a sneer, and he stepped fully into the storage room, while I was still awkwardly standing in the middle of the beeping doorway, one foot outstretched.
He was a corpulent man, with clothes that were stretched out at the neck and waist. Parts I didn¡¯t wish to look at jiggled as he walked over and sat down in his custom office chair.
¡°Ashton!¡± he hissed. ¡°Somebody better have died! Quit standing there like an idiot, and start handling tickets! You can also bet your ass I¡¯m gonna write you up for today. Poor Silas has had to pick up your slack, ain¡¯t that right, Sil?¡±
Silas squeaked in terrified affirmation from a corner, where he sat and read the storage manual. He was barely seventeen years old, and only worked part time to pay for school, but Frank treated him like an adult with the same amount of maturity and experience as himself. And that just wasn¡¯t fair.
¡°Okay Frank, I¡¯m sorry, ¡± I said, and pulled my other foot in the door. Behind me the automatic alarm quit beeping, and the door slid closed. ¡°But, I¡¯m here now, so why not just let Silas go home. The two of us is more than enough for-¡±
¡°Tell me somethin¡¯, Ash, since when are you the boss here?¡± Frank abruptly cut me off. His face was turning an unhealthy shade of red, and the collar of his shirt was close to bursting at the seams. ¡°Did you get your brains all scrambled from that long nap you took? I bet that¡¯s the case, there¡¯s no other explanation for your attitude,¡± Frank continued. His habit of ranting had gotten worse it seemed, and his short temper didn¡¯t exactly help.
¡°Actually, never mind, I don¡¯t give a shit. Get changed, and start handling tickets. The system is backed up all because of your procrastination, and we¡¯re busy with other stuff,¡± he gestured to Silas and himself. ¡°So hurry the fuck up and go deal with it!¡±
I looked at the ridiculous man in his chair, ass hanging out on either side of the seat, with flakes of food stuck in the fibers of his shirt. The second he was done berating and commanding me, he turned his head to the holographic monitor at his desk, where I caught a glimpse of some reality game-show. It was one of those where the contestants allowed themselves to be humiliated on Public Network for the chance to win a lifetime supply of electricity, or somesuch.
There was something incredibly infuriating about it all.
Most people I knew growing up were like me and Emily. Struggling every day to find ways to improve our situation while still maintaining some semblance of freedom and happiness. The rich and powerful I so disliked for their behavior was one thing, and my hate for them was deep, but it felt much more personal when someone acted like a rich brat, when they supposedly came from the same background as yourself.
Frank was, to my knowledge, the same, socially speaking. Normal education, normal job, and a normal apartment. He even shared my resentment towards those in power who habitually overlooked guys like us. That was one of the reasons I¡¯d taken a job here in the first place. Yet there he sat, laughing at strugglers like myself, gorging himself on foods I knew he shouldn¡¯t be able to afford. Sure, he was my boss, and made more money, but you didn¡¯t look and eat like that while working here unless you were doing something super shady on the side. I hated people like Frank.
A slight hum appeared in my ears.
¡°Excuse me, hello?¡± There was someone at the front desk. I hadn¡¯t changed shirts yet, but decided I could step out and handle it anyway. ¡°Coming!¡±
I dumped my things in a tiny locker on the floor, then started towards the plastic curtain. A hand shot out in front of me, and Frank pushed me back towards the entrance while he gave my shirt a pointed glance. He held his hand on my chest, forcibly stopping me from moving, and then narrowed his eyes directly at me.
¡°Be with you in a moment, sir,¡± Frank said loudly with a practiced welcoming tone, all the while staring daggers at me. ¡°And you,¡± he whispered at me in a much lower tone. ¡°We don¡¯t serve customers without our uniform, you know damn well what corporate thinks of that. Besides, I told you to deal with tickets! Now I¡¯m gonna have to write you up for being late AND for disobeying orders!¡± His whisper turned into a hiss, and his dull green eyes were practically jumping out of their sockets from the blood pressure.
He wasn¡¯t the only angry one, however. My own body felt like it was starting to boil, and I was struggling hard to keep a neutral face. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°Won¡¯t happen again, boss.¡±
Frank snorted a laugh at that.
¡°Thought so,¡± he said, then frowned at his hand. ¡°You ain¡¯t still sick, are you? You¡¯re practically an oven. Get your shit together.¡±
He wiped his hand on his shirt, then pushed past me. I stood and stared at the back of his balding head until it disappeared behind the curtain, and I heard Frank welcome the customer with the warmest, most welcoming service voice he could manage.
I turned and walked back to my locker and picked out my shirt and name tag, and got changed. Silas stared wide eyed at me from the bucket he sat on, still reading the store manual. He looked scared for some reason, and I realized it was because of me. My carefully kept poker face was apparently not as good as I thought.
I sighed and gave him a friendly nod. Of all the other employees, he was one of the best to share a shift with. Not because he was a great salesman or anything. No, Silas was cool because he never tried to suck up to Frank, and never reported another employee when they messed up. He didn¡¯t deserve my anger. He was trustworthy, which made it so much worse to watch him be treated so poorly by frank.
I took a deep breath, and let go of my frustrations. Like the storms on the surface of a sun, I let the flames burn themselves out and made an effort to try and cool myself down. It seemed to work, because Silas when I looked back at Silas he smiled and gave a friendly wave back to me.
We didn¡¯t say anything to each other. Frank preferred work to be done quietly, so the only sound I heard as I stood there was the low humming in my ears. Except it was growing louder.
It was slow, but noticeable, building in intensity, and when Frank suddenly laughed at something on whatever stream he was watching, the sound was muffled in my ears, like I was wearing protective ear plugs. It worried me. I didn¡¯t understand it. It kept growing louder.
I pushed away my concern and tried to focus on my job. Frank had been right, the queue for waiting tickets was long, and if I didn¡¯t start chewing it down then he would probably write me up a third time today. That would be bad. Three strikes and you¡¯re out, shift went unpaid. I couldn¡¯t afford-
Wait. That¡¯s not true anymore.
I took a calming breath. I had allowed an old fear to replace a new one in my haste to push it out. It didn¡¯t have to be that way.
I¡¯m going to be okay. I¡¯m safe.
I looked at the queue with new eyes. It was a list of tasks that needed to be fulfilled, sent in by customers or by my superiors who worked at corporate. Made no difference really, they were all the same stiffly dressed people who couldn¡¯t do basic manual labor themselves. The list was displayed on a monitor at a small desk. You just tapped the ticket you wanted on the screen, then a printer would spit out a plastic card with full instructions. You fed the plastic card back into the printer when you were done, where the instructions would be erased, prepping the same card for the next ticket you picked.
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
I read the list. To my relief it was pretty simple stuff. Most of the tasks involved just putting in new power cells in personal devices, with some actual repair work sprinkled in. The task queue really shouldn¡¯t have gotten that backed up, but I guessed it was futile to expect Frank to ever do any proper work himself. I got started with the least time consuming tasks.
¡°Heeeey! Ashton!¡± I looked up from the drawer full of scattered tools to find Silas next to me, looking like he¡¯d been trying to get my attention for a while. I had only been working for what felt like twenty minutes, but looking at my band told me it¡¯d been almost two hours.
¡°Are you okay? I¡¯ve been trying to get your attention for some time now, but you just kinda¡¡± He trailed off. The hum in my ears had stopped getting louder at some point, but I still had to focus to hear his words. That was probably why I hadn¡¯t noticed him earlier.
¡°Yeah, I¡¯m alright. What¡¯s up?¡± I closed the tool drawer and turned to fully face the young man, wondering why he¡¯d stopped talking. All I saw was him staring back at me, with eyes as wide as planetary rings. I waved my hand in front of his face, and he flinched backwards, as if I was about to smack him. I quickly pulled my hand back.
¡°Woah, take it easy,¡± I said. ¡°I was just¡ Is there something on my face?¡±
Silas kept staring at me, directly into my eyes, and I was starting to feel pretty uncomfortable. His lips moved, but whatever he whispered was too low to make out over the hum in my ears.
¡°Uuh, sorry, what was that?¡± I asked, hoping he would repeat himself. Silas answered by lifting his hand, and pointed directly at my left eye.
¡°How are you doing that?¡± I heard him this time. The hum seemed to grow gradually easier to hear him through the more I focused on him.There was a sense of wonder in his voice, but I thought I heard a small amount of fear mixed in as well.
¡°Doing what?¡± I asked.
¡°Your eyes,¡± Silas said. ¡°They¡¯re glowing.¡± He spoke softly, as if he was too entranced by what he saw to put any force in his voice. His words were coming through the hum with complete clarity now.
¡°What?¡± I tried to deflect. ¡°That¡¯s impossible. It¡¯s probably just the work light!¡± I looked away and adjusted the lamp arm on the desk so that it was more in my face. I hoped that would mask the glow, if there really was any. ¡°See, my eyes are perfectly normal.¡± I said, pointing at my face. Unluckily for me, Silas was clever. He clicked his fingers, and the lamp turned off.
Shit.
With the light from the work lamp gone, it was obvious. I moved my face around and I saw reflections bounce off of a myriad of metal surfaces as my gaze passed over them. I closed my eyes, but it only made it clearer. Instead of not seeing anything, it was like when you shine a flashlight across your closed eyes, except I experienced it from the inside.
I reopened my eyes and looked at Silas, who was staring at me with his mouth hanging open, slack jawed. We stood there, just looking at each other in silence for a bit. A numbness appeared in my head, and I was forced to realize the truth of the situation. I wouldn¡¯t be able to hide forever. People were going to find out, one way or another. My life would never be the same.
WORRY NOT
YOU ARE ABOVE SUCH THINGS NOW
I¡¯m what?
The hum was starting to increase again. Not in volume this time, but frequency. It felt like it was getting faster.
¡°Does it hurt?¡±
The words were suddenly crystal clear, and pulled me out of my own thoughts. I realized it was Silas, who had gathered himself from the astonishment of a superhuman experience, becoming curious instead. The question, soft and honest, calmed me, and I made a decision.
¡°No,¡± I said, truthfully. ¡°I don¡¯t really feel it at all. I don¡¯t even know when it started.¡± I had to be able to talk about it, I decided, if this was to become a regular occurrence. I looked at him, faintly lighting up his face with the glow of my eyes. It was brighter than I¡¯d imagined.
¡°Can you turn it off?¡± Silas asked next.
¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t know how,¡± I said while looking away, worried I was blinding him or something. ¡°This is only the second time this has happened, as far as I know. And last time it just kind of went away on its own.¡± I clicked my fingers to turn the work lamp back on.
¡°Well that kinda sucks,¡± Silas said plainly. ¡°It would be a lot better if you could make your eyes glow whenever you wanted. You¡¯d be the best at making dramatic faces.¡±
That caught me off guard. I blinked in surprise at Silas, shining eyes making it look like a flickerlighter. He was right!
¡°You know what, yes. It does suck!¡± I practically deflated from exasperation, the way I sighed. ¡°And you know what sucks more? I think I might have other abilities, but I have no fucking clue on how to activate them!¡± I kept my voice down despite the harshness of my words. I didn¡¯t want Frank to hear.
¡°Just two days ago, I ended up in a fight with some guy with a knife. He managed to slash me across my chest, but after, when I was home, I looked at myself in the mirror, and there was nothing there. No cut, no scar, nothing! And I have no idea why!¡±
I finished the short rant, enjoying the brief sensation of relief that washed over me. Complaining was never cool, but damn if it didn¡¯t feel pretty good afterwards. Had I been in a group larger than just one other person, I would never have dared doing something like that. So long as it was just me and one other person however, I felt okay. It dawned on me that I¡¯d been in more one-on-one social situations lately, and I found that I actually enjoyed it.
Silas however was looking like he was about to pass out. His eyes were opened so wide it felt like they could fall out their sockets any time, and he had completely stopped breathing. His face was starting to turn a little purple, despite his mouth hanging open.
¡°Uh¡ Okay, you¡¯re kinda creeping me out now,¡± I told him, hoping he would start breathing again.
He suddenly coughed in response, then breathed in deeply. ¡°Several other abilities?!¡± He burst out in shock. ¡°Why haven¡¯t you reported this? You could become a superhero. You could meet Crusader!¡± He said, loudly. I gestured to him that he should lower his voice, but was ignored.
¡°Holy crap, this is the most amazing thing I¡¯ve heard,¡± he said while waving his arms in the air. ¡°You gotta tell me more, I need to know everything!¡±
¡°Okay, okay, I¡¯ll tell you whatever I can. I haven¡¯t exactly had much time to figure much out, but I¡¯ll try.¡± I spoke in a hushed tone while gesturing towards Frank¡¯s area, trying to get the point across that this was not the place to have a conversation like this unless we wanted his greasy company.
¡°I can¡¯t believe this is happening!¡± Silas nearly shouted.
Take the hint, please!
¡°I have so many questions! If you¡¯re joking about this, or you¡¯re lying about anything I¡¯m gonna-¡±
He was cut off by a grumpy voice coming from behind the wall, accompanied by the loud stomps of heavy feet.
¡°Silas! Shut up!¡± It was Frank. He had heard us. Or rather, he¡¯d heard Silas¡¯s excited outbursts, and was about to turn the corner. He would see me and Silas hang out together, not working. More terrifyingly, he would see my glowing eyes. This was bad.
I scrambled to find something that would hide my eyes, like a pair of glasses, a mask, anything that could help.
Silas had frozen in place, all color drained from his face. He didn¡¯t make another sound. Fear and guilt melded together in his expression. I felt bad for him. He was just an excited kid. I was the one with suddenly glowing eyes. This was technically my fault. I had to find a way to fix this.
¡°What are you two chattering about back here?¡± Frank turned the corner as I put on a pair of soldering goggles to hide my eyes behind. ¡°You better not be wasting my time,¡± he grunted. Leftovers of some recently eaten meal was smudged around his chin, and he clutched a bottle of some drink in his hand. As if he wasn¡¯t a professional at wasting time already.
¡°S-sorry Frank,¡± Silas stuttered. ¡°I got through the whole manual, so I thought I¡¯d help Ashton with¡¡± He trailed off, looking up at Frank¡¯s looming figure, standing in the alcove entrance with a sour look on his face, tapping his foot.
¡°You thought, huh?¡± Frank asked menacingly. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you like thinking so much all the time. You¡¯ll get a lot of time to do that once you¡¯re out of a job, know what I¡¯m saying?¡± Silas was staring at his shoes. He nodded slowly, once, then sniffled.
¡°I¡¯m glad we agree,¡± Frank said. He was looking at me as he spoke, seemingly no longer caring about Silas. ¡°Lucky for you, you¡¯ve only been written up once today. You might get away with a warning if you follow my directions to the letter for the rest of the day.¡± Frank smirked then. Somewhere in my ear canal I heard a popping sound.
¡°Speaking of, you¡¯ll be helping Ashton close up tonight, since you obviously enjoy his company so much. Can¡¯t get you overtime though, since you¡¯re still in school and tuff, so I appreciate you donating your time like that. Shows real character.¡± Frank¡¯s smirk grew into a sadistic grin, and he bowed in mock respect as he stepped to the side, letting Silas out from the alcove.
¡°Now, if you¡¯ll excuse us for a bit, I need to have a little one-on-one talk with Ashton.¡± Frank clapped Silas on the shoulder. ¡°Just man the front desk, and make sure to serve every customer with a smile, okay?¡± Silas didn¡¯t respond. Frank let go of his shoulder, and Silas walked silently out to the front, where he would most likely not hear whatever Frank wanted to say to me. That was too bad, because I had a few choice words myself. I was about to collect that third write up.
¡°You shouldn¡¯t treat your employees like that.¡± Frank jerked his head around at the sound of my voice. He probably had expected me to wait for him to speak first, so hearing me talk must have surprised him. The self-assured service smile he used to usher Silas away was quickly replaced with a sour sneer. ¡°Shut up,¡± he said curtly. ¡°And take off those goggles when I¡¯m talking to you.¡± I did as he said. I felt a vibration through my temples as my fingers brushed the bone. The hum had become more than just a sound. Somehow that felt incredibly¡ right.
¡°Now Ashton, we¡¯ve had this discussion- what the fuck?!¡±
Two beams of bright light converged on his shocked expression as I opened my eyes and looked at Frank. The small alcove space was immediately bathed in a silvery sparkling light that illuminated every little dark cranny, reflected again and again by every metallic surface it hit.
¡°I¡¯m sorry Frank, we have had many discussions about a lot of stuff over the years. You¡¯re gonna have to excuse me for not knowing what specific topic you have in mind right now. Please, enlighten me.¡± I felt the smirk appear before I could do anything to stop it. Not that I would have tried anyway.
Frank was shielding his eyes with his hands, holding his short arm up in front of his face. It didn¡¯t help. Clearly the output from my eyes had grown in unison with the hum. It was like I had a spotlight for a face.
¡°I gotta say,¡± Frank said from behind his hands. ¡°I used to think better of you, Ashton. To think you of all people would waste your money on such a dangerous modification.¡± The initial surprise from my sudden brightness seemed to begin to fade, and he was beginning to compose himself again.
¡°But I suppose that also explains your ocular color correction, hmm? Yes, I caught it, don¡¯t try to deny me.¡± That surprised me a little. The fact that he had noticed I mean, not what he thought it came from. Although, ocular modifications could explain what was happening, and I guessed Frank decided that that was more comfortable than anything else, therefore it must be true.
¡°Silver is pretty bold though, don¡¯tcha think? Not that I believe in the old societies and their ways, but still, that¡¯s quite the statement. Never seen a person with those eyes in a job like this either, and I personally think that¡¯s a shame, because-¡± he was rambling. Nothing he said made sense, and he was quickly losing control of what he was saying.
¡°Anyway,¡± he managed to collect himself. ¡°You and I need to have a little conversation. It¡¯s not- you mind dimming the lights now? It¡¯s becoming a little ridiculous.¡±
¡°Actually, I can¡¯t.¡± I said.
¡°The hell you mean, you can¡¯t? Just turn off the fucking light. I¡¯m ordering you to turn off the light!¡± Frank was getting angrier by the sentence. His whole face looked like it was about to burst.
¡°Remember that thing where I was supposed to have paid time off from working due to the incident at Lodestar?¡± I asked Frank as calmly as I could.
¡°Oh come on, you¡¯re just using that as an excuse to goof off and still get paid. As if I¡¯m gonna care what corporate has to say about your worthless mental health. You put about as much effort into this job as our CEO puts into paying his taxes.¡± To be fair, that was probably correct.
¡°Actually, Frank, the situation is a little more serious than that. You see, I did something during that horrible incident at the convention, and I still haven¡¯t really figured out all the results of that action.¡± I spoke slowly and forcefully, not letting Frank get a word in to interrupt me.
¡°However, I have learned a few things over the past few days. My eyes for example. They¡¯re silver now. No modifications. They also light up from the inside.¡± I stood from the work stool. ¡°I also have this incessant hum in my ears. It¡¯s pretty annoying, and it makes it really hard to focus on anything else. Just like you.¡±
¡°That¡¯s it, you can kiss your day wage goodbye! I¡¯m writing you up for continued disobedience! Keep this up and I will be forced to terminate your position, Mr. Etrigan!¡±
The use of my last name almost made me laugh out loud. Frank wasn¡¯t the guy to usually give a damn about how he addressed someone, unless he was trying to influence them somehow. It sounded incredibly dumb coming from behind the plastic tray he was still holding.
¡°That¡¯s alright Frank, I don¡¯t really care about that right now.¡± I reached my hand out towards the plastic sheet in Frank¡¯s hands.
¡°You see, I just realized something else that¡¯s changed about me since the convention. The first part of it is that some of my anxieties are gone. Burned out like a dead star. It makes it easier to deal with some things as well. The feeling of powerlessness you¡¯ve always cultivated in me, for example, that¡¯s gone. Instead I¡¯m left with this urge to be truthful to myself, and do the things I always told myself I would one day accomplish.¡±
I chuckled to myself. Today was turning out to be a good day.
¡°Pft, ridiculous. I¡¯ve never seen that kind of drive in you before, and I don¡¯t think I will see it for as long as I live.¡± Frank stated with a gruff voice. My hand reached the tray he was holding, and I pushed it down, uncovering his face and eyes. They were wide and bloodshot. His green irises looked almost brown with all the red mixed in. I smiled.
¡°It means I¡¯m not afraid to act anymore. In fact, you should have seen what happened when a knife wielding idiot tried to kill me. I went home unharmed.¡± I grabbed his face with my free hand. I felt Frank struggle to pull my fingers off the plastic tray, and when that didn¡¯t work he tried pulling my hand away from his face. It was like a toddler trying to escape a grandmother''s cheek pinch.
¡°The second part of what I just learned,¡± I said as I held Frank¡¯s face. ¡°Is this.¡± I lifted him by his neck, arm outstretched, effortlessly shifting his weight over to my feet instead of his.
PULL FROM THE OUTSIDE AND PUSH FROM THE INSIDE
¡°I have actual, personal power.¡±
I followed the vibration¡¯s instructions, and pushed from the inside, while I pulled from the outside. What that really meant, I had no idea, but the result was immediate.
The world around me bent, as if I was looking at reality through a glass sphere. Everywhere felt like ¡®up¡¯ from where I was standing. Everything around me and Frank shook, and started moving towards us, all by itself. Loose screws, plastic pieces, tools, and even the work stool. It all slowly moved across whatever surface it was on, focused on me.
At the same time, the light from my eyes became two solid beams of white, and a similar light appeared from beneath my skin, and inside my mouth. I felt the heat of it coursing through me, like the fire from when I died, but this time without the pain. In fact it felt soothing.
Frank screamed and tried to shield his own eyes, but his reaction was too slow. It was like he was moving through mud. I let go of my hold around his face, and watched in fascination as he began falling. I hadn¡¯t lifted him more than a few centimeters, yet it took him almost six full seconds to fall all the way to the floor. It provided me plenty of time to look at what had happened to him.
Frank''s eyes had visibly changed. Gray, misty spots had developed on both of his eyes, covering parts of his pupils, and most of his irises. The area around the spots were swollen, and tears were welling up quickly. The skin around the eyes had also become brown and rubbery, and a vast network of wrinkles had spread out from the corners of the eyes, covering the nose ridge and most of the forehead. It was like he¡¯d spent several days out in a desert without any form of protection.
I lifted my gaze and stared at the point where Frank had been a moment ago, looking at the strange refractions in the air. The light I emitted bent strangely at a certain point in the air, and when I took a step towards it, the point moved with me. That little step made me almost fall over however, as instead of walking forward, it was like taking a step on an upwards hill. The feeling of everything being slightly ¡®up¡¯ apparently extended to more than just my eyes.
A low droning sound came from Frank, and I turned to look at him. He lay on the floor and held his hands over his face, sobbing slowly. The sound of his voice was stretched long and deep, but grew shorter as the sibs came faster. The world relaxed, and I was no longer looking ¡®up¡¯ in every direction. My eyes dimmed, and the light from my body disappeared as something relaxed somewhere inside me. Frank¡¯s cries of shock and pain sounded normal, and I heard quick footsteps coming from the front, right before Silas peaked his head around the wall.
¡°What is happening?!¡± He asked in a loud whisper. He looked down at Frank. ¡°What have you done?!¡±
His words were crystal clear. The hum was gone, leaving no trace of it ever being there in the first place. I was still pretty angry at Frank, but the hum didn¡¯t come back.
I TOLD YOU. I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE.
Astonished at what I¡¯d just done, I turned to Silas with a hesitant smile. ¡°I think I just got fired, and also may have committed a crime.¡±
Silas stared at me, uncomprehending. A moment ticked by, and as it did I only started feeling better.
I had power. Personal power. Power to change the things in my life that before were impossible. And I was safe.
I would be safe.
Fornax
Ashton Etrigan
Age: 28
Current Mass: 62 kg
Mental Status: Amazed
Physical Status: Depleted
Immediately after Silas had opened his mouth, Frank started crawling towards him on all fours. He was feeling his way forward with his hands, occasionally stopping to rub his eyes. It looked to me like he¡¯d been blinded.
The fact that I¡¯d been responsible for blinding a man didn¡¯t matter to me. I knew somewhere deep that I should feel something about what I¡¯d done, and I would, at a later time. But, at that moment, I was unable to feel anything apart from exhaustion and hunger.
In fact, I was starving. I would have eaten absolutely anything at that moment. Luckily I didn¡¯t need to eat just anything. There was already perfectly good food somewhere in the store. I couldn¡¯t smell anything, and there weren¡¯t any specific places to keep food stored, but I could sense that there was something, somewhere inside the store.
I stepped over Frank¡¯s struggling form, and gently pushed past Silas to exit the alcove. Silas looked unsure of what to do, but let me pass without asking further questions. Frank whimpered desperately when my footsteps landed next to him, shying away from me as best he could in the small space.
¡°You¡¯re not gonna get away with this! You are so fucked, Ash, I¡¯m gonna go straight to the city guard! Augh, my fucking face! Silas, where are you? Help me get up, then get my phone. Your worthless life is over, Ashton, you hear me!? Finished!¡±
He kept switching between painful grunts and cursing me out, but I ignored him. Instead I focused on the feeling of food pulling at me. To no one''s surprise, I found myself standing in front of Frank¡¯s desk, with a hand hovering over the handle of the big top drawer. I pulled at it. A loud snap escaped the drawers as it broke off an unseen plastwood lock and opened.
Inside it were an assortment of various items, like key cards, phones, branded sunglasses, analog watches, and other valuable things that definitely didn¡¯t belong in there. No food though, as far as I could see. But I could feel it, right there, beneath my fingers. I checked the next drawer. Nothing there but some cables, and a metal plate of sorts. I went back to the first drawer. It looked weird, compared to the second drawer. Smaller.
I poked the bottom plate of the drawer, and it gave a hollow thud back. I smiled, and poked it again, harder. My finger went straight through the bottom of the drawer, and I hooked my finger around it, then pulled. The fake bottom came straight out with minimal resistance, throwing all the other objects out with it and scattering them across the floor. Beneath that plate I found exactly what my stomach was howling for.
Several large plastic containers, labeled and organized by contents, along tons of big bags of snacks, laid lined wall to wall inside the drawer. I read words like ¡®chicken soup¡¯, ¡®spaghetti and meatballs¡¯, ¡®chocolate cake¡¯, ¡®mashed potatoes with gravy¡¯. I had little to no idea what kinds of food they were, I had only heard of some of these dishes online. It was like a fully catered Corporation dinner there, just like the one I¡¯d seen at Lodestar¡¯s welcome party.
And the snack bags! Tons of branded snack bags from every store in the city, crammed on top of each other to make room for them all. No wonder there were always flakes of something on Frank¡¯s shirt, he probably went through one of these each shift! I picked one up and tore it open. It was a green bag, called Crackles, with a picture of potatoes and dried meat next to some vegetables I didn¡¯t recognize. The ingredients list had no mention of synthetics. The whole thing was natural!
Not being able to really think twice, I shoved my hand into the bag and grabbed a fistful of whatever was inside. Crunchy flakes of thinly sliced something or other came back out, and I shoved it all inside my mouth and started chewing. I melted, right there on the spot.
¡°Mmmmff, mmmh!¡± I moaned loudly. I couldn¡¯t help myself. I was overcome by the flavor. ¡°What was that?!¡± Frank was making noise again. I wanted to let him know it was fine, but I never got time to speak between the fistfuls of food flakes my hands were shoving in my mouth. ¡°Ashton, what are you doing?¡± He yelled. I noticed he¡¯d gotten to his feet, using Silas as some kind of crutch.
I wanted to tell him his food was amazing, and that I thought he was an asshole for never sharing any. I wanted to tell Silas that he should come over and try some of it. I wanted to call Emily, and tell her of the amazing discovery I¡¯d just made. And Tyler, she already knew about unusual food stuff, she would probably have loved to see all these different foods! She and Deimos would probably-
Stop.
I reached the bottom of the bag of flakes, and before I could stop, a new one was suddenly open in one hand, while the other went back for one of the plastic containers labeled ¡®chocolate cake¡¯. I¡¯d never had cake before.
Stop!
¡°Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake! Silas, tell me what¡¯s going on!¡± Someone was getting panicked and started sounding hysterical. ¡°Hey, Frank, move your hand, I can¡¯t see!¡± This voice wasn¡¯t as panicked, only somewhat agitated. ¡°Ash, can you please tell me what¡¯s happening? What did you do to Frank?¡± Okay, so slightly more than agitated.
Stop talking, I thought at the voices. I need to concentrate!
¡°He¡¯s not answering me. He¡¯s not even looking at me.¡±
¡°Then tell me what the fuck he IS doing, you idiot!¡±
¡°He¡¯s standing in front of your desk, eating a lot of stuff out of one of your drawers, I think. It¡¯s hard to see, with you clinging so hard to me, sir.¡±
¡°HE¡¯S DOING WHAT?!¡±
Parts of cake smudged my cheek as I bit into the large, dark brown piece. My teeth sank easily into the soft, strange substance, and I almost spat it out due to the alien consistency. It was porous and dry beneath the first layer, which was a wet and sticky substance that nearly melted in my mouth. Then the taste hit me, and I completely lost touch with the world around me.
Sensations exploded in my mouth and my mind. The natural ingredients were almost too much for me to handle after a lifetime of synthetics. Flavors I couldn¡¯t even name flickered across my tongue, faster than I was able to eat more of the miraculous food.
Stop it! Listen to me!
Dried potato slices mixed with the spongy bites of cake in my mouth. I was about to fall to my knees, but my hands were still rummaging through more and more containers as my jaws kept chewing. I couldn¡¯t control myself. For every second that passed, more and more empty containers littered the floor. Despite this, despite the enormous quantities of matter I practically inhaled, my hunger wasn¡¯t letting go. In addition to that, something else was happening to me.
Oh no, not this again.
I was getting tired. Incredibly tired. It was slow, this sense of fatigue coming from the other side of my mental horizon. But it was coming.
Rustling from behind me indicated a great deal of movement was happening. I wanted to turn around to look, but I couldn¡¯t stop eating anymore. I was close to emptying the whole stockpile.
¡°Hello?! This is Frank Neumann! I was just attacked by one of my employees! He just went crazy and assaulted me with some kind of super concentrated light! Yes, I need an ambulance, right away! The fucker blinded me!¡± More rustling of movements. ¡°No, he¡¯s still here. Silas, what¡¯s he doing now?¡±
¡°He¡¯s still just uh¡ eating. Sir.¡± Footsteps behind me. Someone was coming closer.
¡°It¡¯s just me, Ash,¡± Silas said. ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know what you did, but Frank looks bad. He called the Guard, and you¡¯re not really making it better right now.¡±
I said nothing. I couldn¡¯t say anything, even if I wanted. Not only was my mouth too full to form words, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn¡¯t stop. I knew I wouldn¡¯t until there was no more food left.
¡°Please, Ash, this is insane! I don¡¯t know how to deal with this, please don¡¯t do this to me!¡± He sounded desperate now. I felt for him, I really did. The drawer was almost empty.
¡°I want you to arrest him immediately,¡± I hear Frank yell. ¡°He¡¯s obviously been modding somehow, and now he¡¯s even stealing from my personal storage! He¡¯s dangerous!¡± A moment passed, long enough for me to tear meat straight from some kind of bone, until my teeth broke even that.
¡°Fine! Just¡ just hurry! Yes, he¡¯s right there, I can hear him! Good!¡± There was a small beep as the connection was cut. ¡°Silas, keep an eye on him. If that asshole empties my stash before the Guard arrives, I¡¯m gonna fucking kill-¡±
Too late, I thought, and yawned as I picked up the last two containers and cracked them open. Inside the first were little balls of meat, swimming in a red sauce with green leaves strewn around in it. I poured the whole thing down my throat, somehow able to fit all the meatballs in one bite. I closed my eyes and savored the taste, then swallowed it. I didn¡¯t see what was in the last container, because my eyes wouldn¡¯t open after that. I just tipped it back and repeated what I¡¯d done with the last one.
Something tapped me on the shoulder, then someone started whispering in my ear.
¡°Ash, I¡¯m scared. Frank looks really messed up, and I think he¡¯s gonna get you arrested. Can you please just say something? Say you¡¯re sorry, or, or that your powers can¡¯t be controlled. I don¡¯t know what¡¯s going on with you, but this can¡¯t be natural!¡±
I stood, listening to Silas¡¯s pleas, but there was not much I could do. I felt a wave of blackness rushing closer, making it hard to stay conscious. My legs wobbled, and I stumbled forward.
A pair of hands caught me before I hit the floor, helping me into a sitting position leaned against the desk. ¡°Thanks,¡± I managed to say. ¡°And sorry.¡±
¡°No, Ash, no no no, don¡¯t- agh, shit!¡± The hands pulled suddenly away from me.
¡°What did he do, did he attack you?!¡± Frank
¡°No, It¡¯s okay, I just¡ my hands¡¡± Silas.
There were more words, but I couldn¡¯t hear anything anymore.
I fell into darkness.
???
I was in the Void again. The soothing, comfortable pocket of nothingness was almost familiar to me now. Floating there in the deep dark, I felt a deep sense of calm, as the relaxing temperature, as well as the absence of sounds, forced me to do nothing but breathe.
I hung there, alone, for an amount of time that could either be described as short seconds or long hours. It was impossible to interpret the passage of time when the world was void of stimuli. Nothing could, or would, ever happen inside this little pocket of time and space, not this time. The first time was different. Something had happened the first time. And the second, I realized.
It was trauma. Both of the other times when I¡¯d been here, I¡¯d been in pretty extreme circumstances, both mentally and physically speaking. This time I was here because¡ what? I had been doing something, somewhere. Somewhere real, outside the Void where nothing could happen.
Anything outside the Void was different, because that¡¯s where things happened. If I was there, and not in the Void, then I¡¯d be worried about why I was in the Void. But in the Void, I was secure, relaxed, calm, and comfortable. For as long as I needed. Maybe forever. Because this time, nothing would happen, and I could just¡ um¡
Something happened. A violently powerful vibration inside my head went off, giving my brain a sudden jolt. It was like someone had thrown my brain into a tumble dryer, and set it to ¡®instant¡¯. It lasted for no more than five seconds, before it died off. Once over, it was like a thick, fuzzy fabric had been ripped loose from all the creases in my brain, and I could think normally. I hadn¡¯t realized I wasn¡¯t able to form thoughts until right then, and now that I did know, I never wanted to repeat it.
I tried to remember anything that stood out to me while my mind had been mush, but it was hard. I found nothing but a jumbled mess of confusing impressions and instincts. Nothing of substance that could be interpreted in any helpful way, only the same sense of comfort that apparently always completely took over me when I found myself in this empty place.
There was that vibration, though. That had been something. It felt kind of like the Hum, just without sound. It had felt¡ bigger, somehow, too. Maybe because it didn¡¯t come from inside my head this time, but I couldn¡¯t be sure. There wasn¡¯t really anything I could be sure of in the Void, not really. That scared me. Suddenly the Void wasn¡¯t so comfortable, or relaxing. Just dark, quiet and cold.
I hung in that nothing, thinking, sometimes waving my arms and legs to see if that did anything, waiting for something to happen. I tried speaking, but no sound came out. I tried screaming, but there was no air in my body. I started to feel trapped then. Not knowing what was happening out in the real world, or how I could go back.
The last time I¡¯d been in the Void was when I almost died. At least I thought it was ¡®almost¡¯, considering I was still alive. I¡¯d communicated with someone. Something? I wasn¡¯t sure, but there had been some kind of conversation.
Hello?
Silence. Well, more silence, because this whole place¡ You get it.
Hellooooooo! I tried again.
GREETINGS, ASHTON ETRIGAN, The Void answered from nowhere and everywhere at once. If I¡¯d still had a pulse, it would have reached atmospheric levels. I took a calming breath, trying my best to look around for anything else in the Void with me. There was nothing.
Right, yeah, greetings to you as well, ominous¡ um¡ voice. It felt wrong to call it that, but I couldn¡¯t come up with something better.
¡How are you? Gods, that felt stupid. I knew I wasn¡¯t the greatest conversationalist, but good lord, that was awful.
FORGIVE ME, BUT I HAVE NOT YET ASSIMILATED ALL OF YOUR LANGUAGE AND ITS NUANCES. I DO NOT UNDERSTAND THE MEANING OF YOUR QUESTION.
The voice spoke without inflection. It was just flat. I didn¡¯t like it, but at least it didn¡¯t care about my lack of charisma. I was also a tad surprised about the language assimilation thing.
Never mind about that, I have more important questions. If that¡¯s okay¡ What a way to sound confident, go me.
I WILL ENDEAVOR TO ANSWER TO THE BEST OF MY ABILITY, the voice said. Maybe talking to it wouldn¡¯t be so bad after all.
Okay, first of all, who are you?
The voice answered with a series of unintelligible non-sounds that ended in what felt like a strange sucking effect. I was entirely unable to understand any of it, and even less able to reproduce anything like it.
Uh¡ I didn¡¯t quite catch that¡ Was that your name or¡ I trailed off, unsure how to approach a conversation like this.
AH, IT DAWNS ON ME THAT A DENSER CREATION MIGHT FIND DIFFICULTIES WITH A CELESTIAL LANGUAGE. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
Who was he calling a dense creation? I wasn¡¯t stupid. However, the idea of a celestial language, now that made me excited!
And terrified.
I BELIEVE THE DESIGNATION YOUR KIND HAD FOR ME WAS ¡®ALPHA FORNACIS¡¯. THIS IS AN ACCEPTABLE WAY TO ADDRESS ME.
Alpha Fornacis. The biggest of the three main stars of the Fornax constellation. It was classified as a white subgiant, with approximately thirty-three percent more mass than our own sun, but had the luminosity of a star that just recently evolved off from the main sequence. While it was seen as a single celestial object to the naked eye in any telescope, astronomers had discovered that it was actually a binary star, meaning it existed as two stars constantly orbiting one another.
It had also been missing from the Star Chart recently.
I see, I thought-said, eloquently as ever.
The fact that I was able to communicate at all in that moment was incredible, if I¡¯m being honest. At that moment I was so taken with fear that if I hadn¡¯t been floating in the void, I would probably have pissed myself.
I had been denying what it could be, the thing I was talking to, the thing I¡¯d heard vibrating words into my head, all this time. I was scared of the truth. Scared of what I was becoming.
I mean, most of it was impossible to begin with, right? Who survived eating a star? That was something that happened in fairy tales, or old-timey fantasy novels. Even Crusader, the greatest hero our planet had ever seen, might shine like a star on occasion, but even she had her limits. I was nothing like her. I was just¡ some guy.
Actually, no, I don¡¯t understand any of this. None of this makes sense! I can¡¯t have swallowed a star, that would kill me!
YOU ARE CORRECT. YOU DID, IN FACT, EXPIRE. THEN I BROUGHT YOU HERE.
You did that?You can do things like that? How? Why!? I was losing it. This conversation was proving too much for me to handle, and I tried to grasp onto whatever little bit of information I could. Anything that could help me understand.
I PULLED YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS INTO MYSELF. IT WAS A NECESSARY PRECAUTION IN THE CASE OF A SUCCESSFUL COLLAPSE.
Collapse? What the fuck are you¡ You mean how stars are created? You made me¡ The fire¡ I trailed off. Flames began licking the edges of my vision, threatening to flood over if I accidentally remembered too much.
YOU ARE CORRECT. AS I SPREAD THROUGH YOUR VEINS, MUSCLES, BONES AND ORGANS, I FOUND IT ALL LACKING. I HAD TO RECONSTITUTE YOUR PARTS, TO MAKE A BETTER FUNCTIONING WHOLE.
Okay, that hurt my feelings.
It was strange how such a comforting voice so accurately speared the exact parts of myself I already were self-conscious about, with such disregard for how I may react. Then again, taking into account the repeating phrases and staccato nature of the voice, projecting a comforting personality to it may not have been helpful.
Because it was comforting, that voice. The way it vibrated, so consistently relaxing, like the warm light of a red dwarf star. It was the kind of comfort I always imagined my father could evoke. The way I heard him in my thoughts as a kid, when I was told how he addressed courtrooms and judges. The difference came in the words, however, and it was a big difference. The voice¡¯s words were nothing like those I imagined my dad would use.
Okay, violation of autonomy aside, I guess I understand why you did it. That still doesn¡¯t explain exactly what you did.
DO YOU REQUIRE AN EXPLANATION OF THE PROCESS?
Yes.
VERY WELL. I WILL EXPLAIN.
The voice then started vibrating, but somehow it was different from when words could be interpreted. Instead, images began flooding into my mind, like a movie being projected onto the back of my eyes.
I was watching my own body, lying on the burning floor of the main hall at the Lodestar Convention Center. Only my immediate surroundings were visible, but it was enough to recognize the place. Despite how bad I wanted not to.
The image shifted, zooming into my face, where the skin seemed to be in the middle of boiling. Red, angry spots of stretched skin covered my face, and my eyes looked like half-blown glass. Smoke could be seen coming from all open orifices, and my hair was already gone, leaving only smudged ash across my scalp. If I¡¯d been awake in my real body, I doubted I would have been able to hold on to all the food I¡¯d just eaten.
Is this really necessary, I asked Fornax. Alpha Fornacis was too long, and just calling it Star was too¡ No, Fornax was good enough.
IT IS BEST THIS WAY. YOU WILL UNDERSTAND SOON.
That¡¯s not¡ I¡ ugh, fine, If you say so.
The image began moving, turning itself into something of a movie. The boils on my skin grew and popped, squirting melted flesh in the process. Underneath the skin I could make out parts of my cheekbone, dried up and cracked. Parts of the exposed bone began flaking off in bigger and bigger portions, until eventually parts of my face began caving in. It kept going until my cranium fell in on itself, and a small cloud of white dust wooshed out from my now empty eye sockets.
All across my body sections were collapsing in on themselves where the bone that held it up crumbled into more dust. In no time I looked like a disgusting, broken, half melted inflatable facsimile of a human being.
The image reminded me of something a mountain animal would vomit to feed its young, and had I not been in the Void I was fairly sure I would have been doing the same.
The view changed, moving inside my deflated husk, and zoomed in to give me an image of the microscopic parts of me that were still there.
Sorry, but this isn¡¯t really telling me anything. I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯m looking at anymore.
YOU ARE LOOKING AT THE INSIDE OF ONE OF THE MAIN PATHWAYS OF BLOOD IN YOUR BODY. THE ONE YOU CALL THE AORTA.
Great, that¡¯s not concerning at all.
That was sarcasm. I was, in fact, very concerned with what I saw in front of me. The vein was dried and flaky, and altogether empty. As I watched, the whole thing was slowly contracting as it dried up, and tears appeared along the inner walls. It was breaking down.
The image changed again, and I was standing inside what could only be my own stomach. It was the only thing I could think of that would have a small lake of semi-clear fluid sloshing around. But more than that, there was the thing beneath the surface of the acidic sea that gave it away.
It had the same shape and size of the marble I¡¯d swallowed, and it glowed the same warm light I remembered, lying there, lodged inside the gastric folds. It looked to me like it had somehow fused itself to become part of the tissue. Melted pieces of flesh clung to the surface of the marble, and the more I watched, the deeper it slid into the meat around it.
I think I¡¯m gonna be sick.
WORRY NOT. NO ILLNESS CAN EVER AFFECT YOU ANYMORE. OBSERVE.
With a shudder I turned my focus back on the smooth marble, melting its way deeper into my flesh. It had begun to faintly glow there, beneath the folds of meat, and as it fell out of sight I could still make out the growing light it emanated. The flesh around it kept melting, and pools of bubbling liquid gathered around my point of view.
THIS IS IT.
This is what? What do you mean?
Before my confusion even had time to settle, it happened. A wave of heat shot out of the hole left by the marble, visible in the air as it distorted where the wave passed. Then the marble pulsed with more light, and another wave shot out, only hotter than the last. It wooshed past my field of vision, and left sparks that ignited what little air was still around.
A second passed in silence, and I watched the insides of my own body fall away to ashes, revealing the remains of scorched bones, and the skin that clung to them. There were no more organs anywhere in my stomach or chest. They had either burned to ash or melted into puddles, making my torso almost mirror the inside of the collapsing convention centre I knew it was lying in at that very moment.
Then the marble pulsed again, and a third wave pushed its way throughout my body. I feared more terrible destruction, but was left in wonder, as this last wave moved slower than the previous ones, and with far less outward intensity. In fact, it looked more like it pulled everything it washed over in on itself.
Ash and dust gathered up by itself, growing dense in the wake of the slow wave, floating in the air behind it. Where the dust and ash touched my skin, it embedded itself there, like an inner layer, and when the wave passed where my old bones had been, new lines of hard substance packed itself into dense formations.
The star was coating my insides, and regrowing my bones!
My view changed, and I saw my whole system like an x-ray. Wisps of air were continually being pulled in through my mouth and nose, and even my empty eye sockets were filled with swirling streams of dust and other particles. They coalesced inside my body, creating a network of dense, clear veins, looking almost like glass. The veins all grew thicker the closer they were to my stomach, until a point where they seemed to phase into one big chamber, with the marble at its center.
During this process, the marble had grown somewhat dimmer, except for a mote of light in its middle. The mote was the color of Emily¡¯s eyes, clear blue, but only for a few seconds. It changed shade into a lighter blue, then white. At the same time it continually grew smaller.
No, not smaller. Denser! Wait, if that¡¯s some form of energy, and it keeps getting smaller, won¡¯t it eventually¡ explode?
EITHER THAT OR COLLAPSE INTO A BLACK HOLE.
A WHAT?!
THE ENERGY IN THAT MOTE IS QUITE VOLATILE. YOU WILL NEED TO LEARN HOW TO USE IT SAFELY. UNTIL THEN I WILL ASSIST YOU, JUST LIKE I DID HERE.
Before the suddenly terrifying light grew too small to see, the edges of the marble began subtly vibrating. A pressure I didn¡¯t know had been there was released, and the light began expanding. It hit the edges of the marble, and continued through them, shooting into the glassy veins connected to the chamber in my stomach.
A thick, golden light raced along the veins, filling them with something that almost looked like liquid. It spread through every corner of my body, just like the other waves, but instead of breaking down or building up, it seemed to restore my whole system into something alive. The glassy veins became flexible, and some kind of tissue grew around them.
Are those¡ muscles?
AN APPROXIMATION, BUT ONLY IN FUNCTION.
The tissue around the glassy veins grew thick, like old power lines, then concentrated into itself, letting more fibers grow in another layer on top. It was colorless at first, kind of looking like the same material that brains are made of, but after several cycles of growth and concentration the tissue took on a clearer appearance. In seconds the fiber tissue around the glass veins were perfectly see-through, and I could keep following the process of the veins themselves as they stretched through the body.
Approximation? How? What makes these muscles different to my old ones?
ALL WILL BE EXPLAINED IN TIME. NOW WATCH. IT IS ALMOST FINISHED.
I wanted to protest, but let it go and turned my focus back to the demonstration.
The strands spread further into my limbs, and split into sections upon reaching my hands and feet. More of them reached into my head, and split into a bunch of super thin threads. Some burrowed into my brain, while others stretched out into my face, forming two larger orbs. I had eyes again. They were clear at first, but then slowly I saw them take on the appearance of normal eyes. First the whites faded in, populated by lots of tiny red lines. Then the iris formed, as if surfacing from a white ocean, followed by the island in the middle that was my pupil.
A color in the iris appeared, initially dark, almost as black as the pupil. Gradually, however, it changed into a deep brown, then a light brown, then almost gold. It kept brightening until the gold was entirely gone, leaving only the similar metallic sheen in my now silver eyes.
Eyelids covered them at last, and as the last parts of my body was rebuilt, I saw my body slowly expand and contract, starting at the chamber in my otherwise empty torso, and ending with my mouth exhaling air. I was breathing again.
???
Was the pain really necessary? I mean, I understand the process now, I guess, but did I really have to¡ feel it?
The projection of the events during my transformation had ended, and I was returned to the lightless place I called the Void. The images I¡¯d been shown still fluttered in my mind, but I was calm. Calmer than I had been for a long time, I realized. Seeing what had happened to my body in excruciating detail had given me some much needed clarity, despite the disturbing truths it revealed.
I AM UNABLE TO ACCURATELY ANSWER THAT QUESTION. THE EXACT COMPOSITION OF YOUR CORPOREAL FORM WAS UNKNOWN TO ME AT THAT TIME.
Fornax¡¯s voice rumbled soundlessly throughout the Void. The way it reverberated against nothing itched somewhere deep in my brain.
So, what? You¡¯re saying there could have been a way to avoid it if you had a stronger grasp of human anatomy?
PRECISELY.
Fuck you.
I AM UNABLE TO ACCOMMODATE THIS PARTICULAR WISH.
Fucking¡ ugh, never mind, just tell me what you could have done to avoid the pain.
IF I HAD INITIATED THE PROCESS AT YOUR CENTRAL NERVOUS SYSTEM, YOU WOULD HAVE POTENTIALLY BEEN SPARED THE SENSATION THAT EACH OF YOUR NERVE ENDINGS REPORTED.
I felt a flash of anger at the star¡¯s flat tone, but I managed to control myself. It wasn¡¯t like the star had spoken in any other tone before. I couldn¡¯t really call the vibrations of its voice a ¡°tone¡± at all.
BOILING AWAY YOUR DIGESTIVE SYSTEM SEEMED LIKE THE BETTER CHOICE AT THE TIME. THE ACIDIC CONTENTS OF YOUR-
Shut up, okay, I get it! No need to dive back into the gross details. Besides, what¡¯s done is done. No way to change it now, right? I chuckled listlessly to myself. It didn¡¯t make any sound.
CORRECT.
Y-yeah¡ okay.
It was weird talking to someth- someone who hadn¡¯t ¡°fully assimilated¡± my language and all its nuances. I didn¡¯t expect an answer to my rhetorical question, but how would Fornax even know what a rhetorical question was. I needed to keep stuff like that in mind going forward.
Anywayyyy¡
I may have forgotten the fact that I myself was pretty bad at the varied nuances of good communication. Super smooth, Ashton. Before I could attempt a course-correct however, Fornax spoke.
I UNDERSTAND YOU STILL HAVE QUESTIONS, LITTLE LIGHT. ASK THEM NOW.
Well, at least one of us knew how to get to the point.
Okay, so¡ are you really a star? I mean, how is that even possible?
YES, LITTLE LIGHT. IN YOUR CULTURE, THAT IS THE DESIGNATION GIVEN TO ME. HOWEVER, THE NEUROPLASTICITY REQUIRED TO EXPLAIN THE POSSIBILITIES OF MY CURRENT EXISTENCE IS FAR GREATER THAN WHAT YOUR SPECIES CURRENTLY CAN ATTAIN.
I let that sink in for a bit. In just two sentences Fornax had not only avoided directly answering my question, but also let slip a few hints that created a whole buttload more. I swear, the way he spoke was almost as if he was trying to challenge my-
Hey! I may not have a complete grasp of our situation, but I know when I¡¯m being called dumb! So take your ¡°required neuroplasticity¡±, and¡
The word ¡°nuanced¡± flashed in my mind again, and I sighed in impotent irritation.
¡ and just tell me what exactly is going to happen to me. And before you say anything, the visual thing you did was helpful, yes, but I need context.
I gestured at myself. More out of instinct than anything else, seeing as I was physically alone in the dark Void.
So you transformed my body somehow, into something different. You say it was necessary for me to survive your integration, and that too I can grasp, despite how impossible it sounds. But what does that integration do exactly?
It was difficult, taking a mental step past the fact that I was possibly no longer human. I wanted reassurances, complete explanations about every single detail. I wanted someone to tell me it was going to be okay. But that wasn¡¯t going to happen. Not right now. So I had to put it behind me. Refuse to dwell on it, like Dad, in the stories Em used to tell.
Fornax began to answer, and as the vibrations formed words a small twinge of fear made itself known at the possibilities of what I would learn.
THE INTEGRATION IS A PROCESS THAT TURNS TWO SEPARATE ENTITIES INTO A SINGULAR BEING.
I hesitated. The little twinge of fear still wriggled in the back of my mind, but the calm way that Fornax said it made me feel like there wasn¡¯t really much to be scared of. I thought for a second, then asked another question.
Are you going to take over my body?
Ever since I accepted that the orb I¡¯d essentially eaten was somehow an intelligent being, the fear of being turned into some sort of parasitic vessel had slowly spread its roots in me. It was born from a healthy consumption of science-fiction entertainment, and I could finally say with confidence that it wasn¡¯t as baseless as Em would have me believe!
NO, Fornax vibrated through the Void around me like usual, but this time I felt like there was a sort of hesitancy to the rumbling.
IN FACT, YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WILL REMAIN A SINGULARITY AT THE END OF INTEGRATION.
Again, the star¡¯s words came to me just as clear as always, but something in the tone was different. I just didn¡¯t know what.
So, if I am going to remain, what exactly does that mean for you?
IT MEANS I WILL CEASE TO EXIST.
Cease to¡ that¡¯s not okay! You can¡¯t disappear, I need your help!
That didn¡¯t really come out right.
DO NOT WORRY. I WILL PROVIDE THE PATH TO ENLIGHTENMENT BEFORE THAT TIME.
Fornax¡¯s reassuring rumblings only made me more ashamed of my selfish outburst.
Are you sure it¡¯s okay? Aren¡¯t you scared of¡ dying, I guess?
A different kind of vibration passed through the Void, and this time I realized what it was. Fornax was sighing. There was an actual personality in there after all.
I AM OLD, ASHTON ETRIGAN. I HAVE SEEN CLUSTERS FORM AND FALTER, I HAVE WATCHED NEBULAE GROW OLD AND DARK. BY YOUR OWN TERMS I AM IN MY GOLDEN YEARS. DYING IS NO LONGER OF ANY CONCERN TO ME.
Fornax took a breath. Or, he paused long enough for what could have been interpreted as taking one. My head was spinning either way.
BESIDES, MY DEATH WILL NOT TRULY ERASE WHO AND WHAT I AM. FOR AS LONG AS YOU LIVE, PART OF ME WILL LIVE ON WITHIN YOU, HUMMING QUIETLY THE WAVELENGTH OF LIGHT.
He finished his little speech, and a moment of quiet stretched throughout the Void. I floated there, feeling the slight pressure of gravity from all sides and the cool comfortable temperature. It felt good. Safe. I wished I could feel like that forever, no matter where.
Reality was different, however, I understood that much. What had started as an exciting visit to a wonderful world of technology turned into a nightmare of blood and fire, ending in my death and consequent resurrection. There was no more comfortable normal life after that. I knew it, and I accepted it. Despite still not knowing what to do with it.
I UNDERSTAND I HAVE UPSET YOU. I APOLOGISE, I MEANT ONLY TO COMFORT YOU.
No, that¡¯s not¡ Well, okay, yes, I am upset, but there is more to it than that. I don¡¯t know, it¡¯s just all so much. A few weeks ago I was just a normal guy, trying to figure out my place in the world, with shitty colleagues at a shitty job, and normal human issues.
I chuckled at how far away those things felt at that moment.
I guess that must seem insignificant to you, the woes of a single bug in a world of billions and billions of other bugs. But they were very real to me. And now they¡¯re blown away by the power of an actual sun. I¡¯ll be honest, no matter how many times you tell me I¡¯ll be okay, I¡¯m terrified.
Fornax stayed quiet, letting me continue my ranting.
For example, right now I feel like I¡¯m in control, but look at what happened to Frank. I don¡¯t know what came over me, but I hurt him. And it felt good. In that moment I felt justified at what happened to him, what I DID to him. That terrifies me.
I don¡¯t even really know how I did it, or what triggered it, but what if it happens again. What if I hurt someone else. If I lost control like that around Em, I-
I cut myself off. Finishing that sentence was out of the question.
My point is, even if I¡¯m going to be okay, like you keep repeating, not everyone around might be. I don¡¯t want to become a monster in someone else¡¯s story.
I thought about Silas, and how he had looked at me right before I had permanently turned Frank into a blind and burnt mess on the floor. Guess I had already failed at the monster thing.
So yeah, I am upset. But you can help me change that. You seem to know how this works, and you¡¯re gonna help me get it all under control, right?
THAT IS CORRECT. HOWEVER-
Good, then let¡¯s start with the basics. What is that constant humming sound in my ears, and why am I so fucking hungry all the time?