by DJ Molles
“Stop,” Perry barked, unable to hang onto a single cogent thought, and getting a little irritated by it. But then, when they gave him a moment of silence to think, the first thing he came up with was, “Were you guys just waiting here the whole time?”
“Oh, no,” Stuber said, with a spooky look in his eyes. “Fate, Shortstack. The universe gathered us together just now.”
Perry couldn’t tell if that was a joke or not. He badly needed…something. A respite. A moment to think. But he’d had hours to think while he was on his way back and that hadn’t helped. Maybe he needed food. Or water. Or sleep. It was obvious he needed something, because he’d never been so speechless in his life.
“Just hang on,” Perry said. “Let me…uh…gather my…” The burgeoning frustration boiled over all at once. “Shit. I don’t need to gather my thoughts! I’ve been trying to gather my thoughts for the last four hours and I got nothing! They’ve all run away!”
“It’s quite alright, Perry,” Whimsby said, angling himself around the others and placing a hand on Perry’s shoulder. “Your heartrate and respiration are at an unhelpful level. You’re experiencing a lot of stress, and I understand that makes it very difficult for your skull full of mushy neurons to fire properly.”
“Whimsby,” Perry said, suddenly exhausted. “I can’t remember the last time my heartrate or respiration was at a helpful level.”
“When you were sleeping,” Whimsby said, flatly. “In the Crooked Hills. Just before I woke you and you ran off to battle Mala. Your vital signs were quite calm then. Before I woke you, anyways.”
“Perhaps,” Lux raised his voice over a cavalcade of fresh questions starting to burble up from everyone else. “You should just start at the beginning, and go from there. You flew off in search of someone you believed to be an All-Kind…” Lux raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And then…?”
Perry took a deep breath. “Actually, I’m going to skip to the end: I can give you all the Gift of Confluence. But there’s no guarantee that it’ll be enough to kill the Nine. It’s probably a suicide mission. And if any of us survive, you have to give the Confluence back.”
It felt miraculous to just spit it out there.
Perry reviewed his own words in the shocked silence the followed. Nodded to himself—yeah, that was about as clear and concise as he could make it. And with that out of the way, now he could maybe figure out a way to fill in the blanks.
He pushed through his friends, heading for the temple steps. “I’m gonna sit. And then I’m gonna try to make this make sense.”
***
Perry stared at Teran’s mouth as it moved, but her words were just a mumble in the background of the growing hum in his ears. No matter how he held his head, or squinted against it, or tried to focus around it, it wouldn’t stop.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. What?”
Teran narrowed her gaze at him. Suspicious. “What’s going on with you?” She said, louder, as though he was deaf.
He knew what the hum meant. But he couldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t think about how time was running out. He needed to focus, godsdammit…
“Nothing.” He clenched his jaw muscles against the hum, really honed in on Teran. “What were you saying?”
Teran shifted, then repeated herself: “If you really can give us the Gift of Confluence, what are our chances against the Nine?”
Damn. Now he wished he hadn’t asked her to repeat herself. He didn’t want to answer that question. There was no way he could wrap it that made it any better than the box of shit it was.
He went with honesty. He was asking his friends to put their lives on the line. He owed them the truth. “Not good, as I see it.”
Teran frowned. Squirmed where she was sitting on the steps beside him. “Well, then why are you asking us to do it?”
“If there was any other way, I wouldn’t.”
“There is another way, Perry,” she said quietly. Glanced sidelong at Stuber and the others. “We do what the Outsiders have always done. It seemed like foolishness in the face of the Guardians, as they were hunting everyone down. But in the face of the Nine? It seems like the wiser option.”
Perry recoiled from that. “What? To run? To hide?”
“The Guardians were able to track down human life.” She looked to Whimsby now. “Isn’t that right?”
Whimsby arched his eyebrows, then allowed it with a nod. “Indeed. They have the capability to sense and identify human life. Their apparent strategy was to find the largest numbers and wittle their way down from there. Hence the attacks on the cities. Once they were done with the cities, they would have found the remnants of humanity, wherever they were hiding.”
Teran seemed to think this proved her point. “Exactly. But the Nine, they can’t track us down, can they?”
Perry shook his head. “They can track me.”
This led to a moment of shocked silence.
“They can sense me now,” Perry expounded. “Maybe they always could. I could sense them when we went into the East Ruins. Hell, I felt them when we were in the Crooked Hills. The closer I got the stronger it got.” He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around, but had no success getting rid of the hum. “It’s this low, thrumming sound. And it’s getting stronger now. I can…” he didn’t quite know how to put this. “I can tell that they can feel me, too.”
Perry thought he knew what Teran was thinking, though she didn’t seem to want to say it. Sagum, however, had no such reservations.
“They can sense Confluence, then,” he said. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Perry nodded.
“But they can’t sense non-Confluent. They can’t sense regular humans.”
Perry shrugged. “Not that I know of.”
Sagum held his gaze for a long moment. Took a deep breath. “So the rest of us—the normal humans—we might be able to hide from them.”
Mala jerked around to look at Sagum and Teran. “Is that what you want? To spend the rest of your life hiding?”
Teran looked sharply back at her. “Says the woman who’s Confluent. Tell the truth, Mala, if you knew you could hide from them, would you? Or are you just telling us to fight because hiding is not an option for you?”
Mala bristled at that, but Perry cut her off with a raised hand. “Stop. Please. Let’s not do this right now.” Gods, but he wished he could just massage this fucking noise out of his head. “I didn’t come here to demand your help in this fight. I came to ask for it. I know what I’m asking for. I’m not stupid. I know our chances of winning are low. Extremely low. I know that I’m asking you to possibly sacrifice yourself, and I can’t give you any good reason why we stand a good chance at winning. It’s just…” He sighed, and it turned into an irritable growl as his fingers pressed into the sides of his head. “I have to do this. There’s no other option for me. But…if you don’t want this fight, I’m not going to hold it against any of you.”
Stuber leaned forward onto his elbows, his brawny arms draped over his rifle. “I seem to recall you saying something similar in the East Ruins. And we all decided to back you then. Because we’re a team.”
Teran shook her head, unable to hide a blush of shame. “Things are different this time.”
Stuber seemed surprised. “How are they different? A friend needs our help. We’re in this together. What’s changed?”
“Everything’s changed!” Teran snapped. “And I hate to break it to you, Stuber, but the decision we made in the East Ruins was a bad one. We went into something with no concept of what we were dealing with, and look what happened! We unleashed the Nine and plunged this entire planet into extinction, and now slavery! Are you going to tell me that we made a good decision then?”
Stuber tilted his head. “It’s a fair point.”
Perry felt his heart drop a little further. He didn’t want to hear Stuber acknowledge that it was a fair point. For all the honorable words about wanting them to all make their own de
cision about whether to take this risk, he’d hoped…
Well. He’d hoped. Plain and simple.
“Is hiding really an option?” Perry tried again, focusing on Teran. “Are there enough caves to hide in? Can all of humanity fit in them? Who gets to decide which people hide and which are left out to be slaves for the Nine? And when the Nine see the population fleeing into the hills, who’s to say that won’t enrage them? Who’s to say they won’t just burn the fucking mountains down? You’ve seen what they can do, Teran. Are you really willing to risk that they’ll just let you be?”
Teran hung her head. “This isn’t my proudest moment, Perry. But I’m trying to think with my head and not my heart right now. I don’t want to turn my back on you after all we’ve been through. But hiding seems a better chance than what you’re offering.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” Stuber said. “If life is just being alive. Yes. Hiding might keep the blood moving in your veins for a little while longer. But is that really living, Teran? Is that how you want to wile away your days? Stuck in caves, crammed in, scrabbling about for food? Every time you exit to find something to eat or drink, knowing that you’re just a mouse among wolves?” He made a face and spat. “Sounds fucking terrible if you ask me. Which you didn’t, but there it is anyways.”
Teran didn’t respond. Just kept staring at her feet.
“Me?” Stuber sighed through a melancholy grin. “I can’t even stand being here. I can’t wrap my brain around it. I can’t see myself living like that, or like this. Even if the Nine weren’t an issue, I’m not sure I could do it. I’m just not cut out for peace. I’m not cut out for…living just for the sake of living.” He looked skyward. “Guess that’s the problem with a life of war. Knowing that you could die any day makes every sunrise, every piece of bread, every sip of whiskey, every woman…delicious. The danger and the death is unpleasant, of course. But then when you don’t have them hanging over you, everything becomes so…bland.” He shook his head. “I fear the grayness of safety more than I fear death.”
He stood suddenly. “But that’s just me. I can’t speak for the rest, but I’ll speak for myself.” He took a big step and knelt on one knee in front of Perry, eyebrows up, hands held out wide as though presenting himself. “How’s this work, exactly?”
Perry felt a strange mix of grief and joy, staring at Stuber’s big, honest face. Joy at the prospect of not entering into this fight alone. Grief, because he felt certain that he was dooming his friend to death.
“Are you sure?” Perry asked, quietly.
Stuber frowned at him. “I just gave a whole fucking speech about it. What’s sure got to do with it? Decision’s been made. Do your magic thing. Give me the powers, and we’ll go try to rip these fuckers a new asshole.”
“Well, uh…” Perry looked at his hands. “Honestly, I’m not sure how it works. It wasn’t really explained to me.”
Stuber’s hands flopped to his sides and he rolled his eyes. “Typical Shortstack. Gotta overthink everything. You’re the type that has to read the instructions before you try to work the machine. Haven’t we been through this before? Just yank the levers and see what happens.”
“Alright.” Perry straightened. Gathered himself. Figured that the best he could do was emulate what Niva had done, so he reached out his hands, a little gingerly, like lightning might sprout from his fingertips and blow Stuber away at any second. He cringed a bit, his fingers hovering next to Stuber’s forehead. “Are you ready?”
Stuber nodded. “Can’t wait to shoot fireballs and fly. Do it.”
Perry took a deep, steadying breath, then touched his fingers to Stuber’s head.
He felt the flow of Confluence through him. Around him. The full connection that he’d felt after Niva had tossed him off the cliff. A seamless conjoining of himself and the strands of energy that crisscrossed this universe. The acceleration. The velocity.
He closed his eyes.
Frowned.
He felt the Confluence, yes.
But what about this Gift of Dispersion? What was it supposed to feel like? Was it connected to Confluence? Was it, perhaps, so similar that he couldn’t tell the difference? Was it simply so effortless that he didn’t notice?
He felt the greasy skin of Stuber’s forehead against his fingers. Warm to the touch. Waiting.
Was power supposed to surge out of him? Nothing had really happened when Niva had given him the Gift of Dispersion. Perhaps there would be nothing dramatic as he gave Confluence to Stuber.
He opened one eye. Found Stuber watching him blankly.
“Do you feel anything?” Perry asked.
Stuber’s eyes nearly crossed, looking up at Perry’s hands on his forehead. “I feel you touching my forehead. And I’m somewhat hungry.”
A tiny note of panic began to grow in Perry’s brain, right alongside the distracting hum. Hell, maybe it was the hum that was setting him off his game. But it was growing stronger, reminding him that he didn’t have all the time in the world to puzzle this out.
Niva hadn’t given him instructions. So it stood to reason that instructions weren’t necessary. Right? He’d just assumed that it would be easy. If it were complicated, she would have told him what to do. Special steps to take. A special dance maybe. Or an incantation?
Perry shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut again. “Just…hold on a second.”
“Holding,” Stuber murmured.
“Ssh. Let me focus.”
Problem was, he didn’t know what to focus on. Couldn’t really focus at all. That hum. That constant, nagging hum, starting to surge now, starting to feel like soundwaves pressing at his ears. Like trying to focus on a solving a puzzle when a pack of hungry dogs was running at you, howling for flesh.
He tried, but all he could think was, They’re coming! They’re coming and you’re running out of time and THIS ISN’T WORKING!
“Fuck!” he suddenly spat out, yanking his hands away from Stuber. “It’s not working and I don’t know how to make it work!”
Stuber looked a little put out. “Maybe it’s me? Maybe my skull’s too thick for the magic to get through?”
Perry realized he was starting to sweat when it began to tickle on his eyebrows. He jabbed it away with a trembling thumb, almost starting to feel woozy now, the pressure in his ears making him feel like the ground was moving underneath him.
Mala was perched nervously at the very edge of a step. “There’s gotta be a way to do this, Perry. Just think. There must be something you’re missing.”
He looked at her, breath heaving out of flared nostrils. “We’re running out of time.”
Mala quirked her head. “What do you mean?”
Perry poked his head with a hard finger. “I can feel them, and it’s getting stronger. I think they’re coming. I think they noticed me somehow—felt me—and they’re coming. And they’re close.”
“How close?”
“I don’t know!”
Sagum writhed up from his seated position and attempted to shoulder Stuber out of the way, but merely rebounded off of him. He took a knee. “Try it on me. Maybe it really is just a problem with Stuber.”
Stuber, however, had become concerned. “Shortstack. Are they coming here?”
“Gods, Stuber, I don’t know! I can sense them like a noise, and that noise is getting louder. I can barely hear any of you.”
Teran stood up. Hands clenched over her mouth. Taking short paces back and forth.
Sagum grabbed Perry’s hand and held it in front of his forehead. “Perry. Look at me. Calm. You can do this. Just try.”
Despair and utter certainty of failure flooded Perry, made him almost want to not even try. Almost. But that was no way to go. That was the old Perry talking. The self-serving, chip-on-the-shoulder, life’s-a-bitch Perry. The new Perry had a lot more riding on his shoulders. So much so that he couldn’t simply shirk it off.
At a certain point, the weight on your shoulders can grow so large that you ca
n’t release it without crushing yourself. So you just have to keep going.
He bore down in the center of him. Sure, Niva had told him that good humor was a better way to delve into Confluence than getting mad, but it was hard to find a sense of humor, and not so hard to find some anger. Old habits and all.
It was there. His Confluence. Just as it always had been. Deep and red.
He was in it. He was flowing.
He was touching Sagum’s head.
Every muscle in his body taut, as though he could squeeze the damn Dispersion out of him like water from a damp rag. Could he get something? Just a little something? Some sign of progress? Some indication that he wasn’t just sitting here, wasting time that he didn’t have?
But there was nothing.
He gasped from the effort. Eyes open again. Stars in the corners from all that blood pressure building. Pulse pounding in his head.
“It’s not working.” He shot to his feet. “It’s not fucking working!” He turned, and began screaming nonsensically at the sky: “Niva! I need some fucking help!” As though he could summon her. As though she were waiting right around the corner.
But what was it that she’d said?
Oh yes. She couldn’t “help.”
Why had she done this? Why hadn’t she told him how to use this Dispersion? Or was it his fault? Was something broken in him that she didn’t know about? Maybe he wasn’t as strong as she thought.
He felt weak and watery.
And then, all at once, the hum became something different.
It was the difference between hearing the roaring of a river, and being underneath the water. The sound of it was less. But the presence of it was more. Like all he’d sensed to that point was shockwaves, and now he was standing at ground zero.
And he was certain of it all in a moment. So deadly certain that there wasn’t even a trace of doubt. “They’re too close. They’re almost here.” He glanced skyward, but somehow knew that they weren’t overhead. Still rapidly approaching. But now he was inside the circle of their energy, and that was too close.
All the other options had run out.