Unity

by Carl Stubblefield

  How had he not noticed that before? Gus could not remember feeling the emotions on his first viewing of the scene. But they were there. They felt everything, but managed to stay stoic. His first inclination was to believe they were just stronger and he was weak, but as he revisited their memories again and again, he saw that this was definitely not so. Doubt, insecurity, and uncertainty were all there, in equal or greater measures to his own. Yet they overcame. How?

  After a particularly brutal cycle where Mengele had burned Gus’ skin just to the edge of destroying the nerve endings, leaving them barely able to transmit pain signals—but only just—Gus retreated to his mind vault with more desperation than usual. This time he experienced a memory of BoJack where he helped the small girl. He hadn’t realized this memory was in there, but recalled BoJack mentioning it while they were in the forest together after the crash.

  Despair and darkness flowed through BoJack during this time of tragedy in his life, and helping the small child was almost an afterthought. An action taken on autopilot due to his training. But it made a difference.

  For once in the bleak wasteland of fate, something had happened that defied the ever-present entropy of pain and breakdown. Like a light in an engulfing darkness, BoJack had found something to change his perspective. He was still encircled by darkness, but he could see a step in front of him.

  With that awareness came a hope, an expectation that he could find his way out of the labyrinth. Step. As he continued to hold the light aloft, he could barely see the path ahead. He had no idea if he was going in the right direction, but it was movement. Towards… something.

  What if the light could be bigger? How would that change things? From there, the memory faded, but it struck Gus. He had always been so focused on improving himself. Attempting to make himself worthy of the company of others. That his need for isolation was to dampen the insecurity he felt from bringing others down by his presence.

  Deep down though, the rationale was always a bit selfish. To protect himself. BoJack had not found his light until he had put himself out there for another. Not for a reward or recognition, but for someone who could do nothing to repay him in any way, shape, or form.

  He had made the world better than he found it. Because it was the right thing to do, and that act withstood the insurmountable forces that just seemed to grind everything to dust and drain the energy out of every particle until there was just a great sea of nothingness.

  In some insane way, Gus felt a similar fire start to kindle within himself. He almost immediately dismissed it, having long ago accepted that nothing he could do would allow him to escape Mengele’s control. Still, there was something that ignited his own hope. Irrational and strange, but undeniable all the same.

  Thinking of both Prime and BoJack, he became bolder in his resolution. As the idea coalesced in his mind, his awareness expanded, almost imperceptibly. What if he could help them both, somehow, after this was over? Help Prime resolve her troubles and reunite with her daughter. The darkness seemed to roil around Gus, attempting to discourage the foolish thought, but Gus held onto it as the storm whipped him like a banner in a tempest.

  Tempest. Thoughts crashed back into his awareness of his family. The haunted, broken look of his father after they had found his mother. The change that had happened with Cyclone. No, Alan. Wow, when was the last time he called his brother by his real name? He had found that he had subconsciously switched after he had gotten his powers. That with the change, he was no longer his brother; he was so much more. And the unspoken attitude that Gus wasn’t worthy to warrant his attention anymore. Not to mention figuring out a way to help his mother.

  As he looked at everyone who needed help, he realized that this couldn’t be the end. Not if he could help it. For the longest time, he had seen the demands of others on his time as a constant drain. As if he were a bank account and everyone kept making withdrawals without putting anything back in to replenish what they had taken. It made him feel used and taken advantage of, and angry at the imposition.

  Now, he saw it with a different perspective. That it was really Gus himself that had been taking from others his entire life and hoarding everything. Doling out his time and commitment sparingly, keeping the best for himself. Choosing not to see the sacrifices and contributions of others in the same light as his own. Overvaluing his portions and diminishing theirs because it wasn’t what he had expected or wanted. A transactional way of looking at every interaction, and that he was getting a bad deal.

  He knew full well the fruits of cultivating this viewpoint, and how it played a huge part in his own sense of self-value and worth. Plans and commitments began to solidify in his mind, only to be shattered by another session with Mengele. Each time they solidified a bit more. Promises and dreams remembered. Refined. Stripping away those things that were more for his benefit than others.

  And somehow it helped.

  That there was some very small chance that somehow things would work out. Absurd as it was, an odd sense of peace sat like a speck of sand inside an oyster. He clustered his awareness around this hope, and it warmed him when he would return from the blizzard of pain that Mengele would inflict, hour after hour.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  You’ll Miss Me When I’m Not Around

  Sanura let the holo-vid ring three times before answering.

  “You have recordings, don’t you?” the man said in a blur.

  “Well, good morning to you too, Harlan. And if you must know, yes, I do.” Sanura calmly rolled some tops into bundles and tucked them in a duffel, feigning disinterest.

  “See? I told you, dammit!” she heard him hiss offscreen.

  “Hit mute, you idiot, she can hear!” Elaine hissed back out of sight of the holo-vid.

  Sanura smiled; it didn’t matter if they hit mute or not. But it would be entertaining to see what they would say when they thought they weren’t being monitored.

  “I didn’t think she had a place here,” Elaine said in exasperation.

  “She has hidey holes all over. It’s debatable if they would pass a home inspection if things came down to it, but I’m sure she could arrange something quick if she needed to. Remember what we discussed, okay?” He leaned back into the frame.

  Such amateurs. Why wouldn’t they discuss their plan before contacting me? Sanura just shook her head as she packed some more clothes in a bag. She had oriented her holo-vid to just show her bed and the wall. It wouldn’t reveal exactly how spartan and small the space was. These two idiots didn’t need to know that. While she did maintain a variety of safe-houses, she didn’t have any in this city. Until an hour ago. She knew this call would come, so she got situated and set the stage.

  “I just talked with my lawyers, and I think they brought up some good points,” Harlan began, voice tentative.

  “Oh?”

  “Erm, yes. He mentioned that you would be unlikely to seek legal action given the climate here for hybrids. It’s different from the last time we went to court. He doesn’t think you’d take that risk.”

  “I’m willing to take my chances.” It was hard to repress the smile. Harlan and Elaine hadn’t contacted anyone. She had accosted him when he arrived home and shared in hysterical details about a visit from “your crazy ex” and how she “feared for her life.” They had brainstormed for a bit then finally called after Elaine’s insistent urging.

  A sideways peek showed Harlan looking to the side for direction, his hands and shrug telegraphing his confusion at whatever Elaine was pantomiming off screen. Sanura let him hang there for a minute before driving in another nail. She began rolling socks together, sliding them into shoes which also went into the duffel.

  “Harlan, after this call I want you to take a good look at your neck. If you look closely, you will see eight tiny scars that just happen to be along your jugular. You probably thought you got them while you were shaving. But I want you to look closely at how parallel and close together they are spaced. Do you know how
difficult it is to cut someone’s skin just deep enough to not make it bleed? Just deep enough that when you put some pressure on it to shave, it would tear through, giving you the impression it was just a shaving accident?

  “That’s one of the benefits of a monomolecular blade in the hands of someone with exceptional skill. I have shown remarkable restraint up to this point. But this is a message. Like a foolish cat, you have used up eight of your lives. Only one is left. How will you use it? Making the best of it, or by further provoking me?” She put a slender finger by her cheek as she looked upward as if pondering the universe. Then she turned and gazed directly at the camera, leaning in close.

  “I have nothing left to lose. You already keep Maddy away from me, so if I don’t get to see her as I should, then what is keeping me from making that ninth cut just a bit deeper, I wonder?” Sanura looked at her nails distractedly. “I would guess that there’s nothing at all…”

  “We’ve got her!” Elaine’s voice exulted. “I told you we should record everything. See? Two can play that game.”

  Sanura just smiled. And waited.

  “I don’t think we can agree to that, Sanura,” Harlan said officiously.

  “Oh, is that so?”

  “Yes, Elaine and I have been discussing it, and I don’t think that it is really safe for Maddy to be with you, seeing as you’ve threatened us. We’ve got it all recorded. So I think that a Magistrate would side with us restricting your access as you’ve demonstrated murderous intent. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “No, I would not.”

  “Well, too bad! You lost!” Elaine’s disembodied head popped in from the side. “We have evidence of you threatening us and I can see those tiny scars, so that’s proof we can use against you.”

  “Is it, now?”

  Elaine furrowed her eyebrows, catching on that if Sanura wasn’t upset that something else was happening.

  “What aren’t you telling me…?”

  “Do you really think that someone who could infiltrate your house and do what I’ve done to you would only do that? Do you realize the restraint I have had to use to not use my considerable skills to make you both disappear and make it look like an accident? I came close so many times. Eight in fact. Be thankful that I have as much control over my temper as I do over a blade.”

  The pair turned and looked at each other; Harlan’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped. He absently touched his neck in a daze.

  “Has it been so long that you really remember that little about me? Or did you never take the time to learn it in the first place? Did I ever forget a detail? A date, anniversary, or birthday? Never. I may be a lot of things, but sloppy isn’t one of them. The thought that I wouldn’t have put things in place so that my daughter would be safe is almost insulting. I couldn’t very well leave her in your incompetent hands.

  “For someone with a ‘smart house,’ you aren’t so smart. Why don’t you try to access your recordings? Let’s see what they’ve captured over the last couple of years…”

  Harlan’s face fell open in horror as Sanura pushed a button and on their computer a video began to play.

  “Who is that woman, Harlan?!” she heard Elaine screech.

  “I can tell that you two have some things to discuss. I will be picking up Maddy next week, on Monday. That gives you three days to get things arranged. We can see how things turn out. Cooperation or mutually-assured destruction. I look forward to seeing what you choose. But if you think that video is good, I’ve got some real zingers. You know what I mean, right, Elaine?”

  Her tirade cut off as she turned her vitriol on Sanura.

  “Oh, you bitch—”

  “Ah ah ah.” Sanura waved a reproving finger. “Bitches are dogs; I am a Grimalkin, or at least a Molly.”

  Sanura cut the connection before Elaine could reply. She did think she would save the screenshot of her expression though. Priceless. Now just a few more preparations and she could take Maddy and start being the mother she always wanted to be.

  She received an alert to her comms on display and was shocked to see a message from Gus. Perfect. That was exactly who she needed to talk to next. She opened the time-dated delivery and saw it was carbon-copied to the rest of the Crew.

  To The Crew and whom it may concern,

  If you’re reading this, then it probably doesn’t bode well for me. I realize that most of you have been tolerating me because of my father, and I appreciate that. Thank you all for coming to help find my mother and bring her back to our family.

  A lot of things have become clear to me in the past weeks, and I have realized some hard truths that I need to deal with on my own. I don’t want to drag anyone else into my drama anymore, so I’m going after Mengele. I know a lot of you, if not all, think that this is the stupidest thing that I could do. And you’re probably right. But there are some things going on with me that may make it so that I don’t have that much time to live anyways, so I might as well do something productive—or at least try.

  I know you guys wanted me to wait for you, but in the time I was back at ‘home,’ it was apparent that everyone had their own lives apart from my problems. It would haunt me forever if I were to let Mengele get away and not even make an attempt to stop him. At least I can slow him down or put a dent in his operation.

  If you put this code into the manor control panel, it should give all of the Crew access to and shared rights at the manor. Since Aurora has been there the longest, I’m giving her the highest access and she will be the ‘Master of the Manor’ while I’m gone. I would have given that role to my father, but I don’t know what condition he is in. I think seeing Mom like that broke something fundamental in him, and I’m not sure if he’ll recover without her. I doubt he would want to leave her side, either. If you’re reading this, take care of yourself, Dad, and Mom too.

  So possibly this is my final goodbye. I want to say that I’m sorry to anyone I’ve offended. Especially you, BoJack. I shouldn’t have been so obsessed with getting more powerful and losing sight of how powers should really be used. Look on this trip as my penance. You always said that true happiness comes from doing things for others, so this is my offering. I feel like all I do is be a burden or hurt people, so it’s time to change that.

  I have your tracker, Aurora, and I’ve set it to broadcast upon my death. That way you’ll know that I’m finally gone. Do not try to come save me. That’s why I’ve made this change to the tracker. If I’m dead, there’s no reason to mount a foolish rescue mission and possibly get someone else hurt. I’m done having other people bend over backward to pull my fat from the fire. Be safe. Have a good life, and enjoy the manor. I love you guys!

  Gus

  Sanura buried her face in her hands.

  Dammit, Gus, what have you done?

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Experiment on Me

  Mengele Research Results:

  Subject: Gus Vannett.

  Classification: O-9999

  Age: 27 years old.

  It is good to get back to my old routine of uninterrupted research. Returning to the regimen of polyphasic sleep has invigorated my mind and made me feel much more like myself again, in addition to allowing more productivity in the process.

  Initial Findings

  Subject is quite resilient, withstanding many tests that would kill a human without Nth. I have progressively increased the intensity, and subject has shown remarkable adaptability in healing and recovery. Typically, I have to allow extensive periods for healing, but with this one, my calculations show healing at 47% above average baseline rates among supers. I attribute this to his mysterious procurement of my brother’s ring. That artifact came at great price and I know that it was not an accident that it found its way into the subject’s hands. I will have to speak with other members of the pantheon and determine who is to blame, though I’m confident I already know.

  Gel electrophoresis has revealed unusual elevations of DNA synthesis. Subject has significantly eleva
ted RNA and DNA; 52% above an actively leveling super’s standard reference ranges. It is indeterminate whether this is a result of rapid leveling or due to an unfolding event. More analysis is needed. Prostaglandins are excessively elevated, even before the subject was stressed from various procedures. Only trace amounts of serotonin and dopamine detected. Multiple neurotransmitter receptors are bound irreversibly with altered proteins, reducing signaling efficiency. Warrants further study.

  Fractal Effects

  Inspecting my previous work, I have been impressed at the persistence of the folds, despite a lack of maintenance. Checking my previous notes, there were ten iterations that had to be inverted upon themselves. Currently, the subject appears to have activated the first two of these without incident. I wish I had control data to see the changes in total mass and tissue types and volumes as he transitions from one iteration to the next. I am eager to investigate the effects of folding but this subject has provided an opportunity at an ideal time to finish a project that my employer has been pressing me to finish.

  The suppression device appears to be functional and I have accessed and downloaded data. It will take at least two days for it to be unpacked and processed. I had to write a new protocol to format data to the newest update. This should provide additional information on all stat changes and skill sets, and transmit remotely. Removal of suppression will still result in catastrophic cellular untangling. Still uncertain if I wish to examine this phenomenon or if the subject would be better retained to evaluate long term effects of fractal folding on macromolecular signaling as well as tissue stability after a prolonged folding event.