by wildbow
It wasn’t right. The chaos beyond this one group, it should have left people blind to what was going on here. They shouldn’t have been able to turn their backs on the others.
I was— It was parsing wrong. Didn’t connect.
In that riot, that mob, there was no blood. The girl I’d cut wasn’t bleeding, the people in the crowd weren’t dying… only the hands and arm, held out for the knife to slash, were weeping with blood, only the older injuries, from a short time ago.
People wrapped their arms around one another, but bones weren’t broken, limbs weren’t disjointed. The shouting and screaming wasn’t directed at anyone in particular, nor were the powers that were actively being thrown around. There were tears, but those same people were smiling.
I hadn’t counted on having to deal with this many people.
Too many with powers I wasn’t familiar with. The ones closest to me? The ones I’d just been controlling? I had a grip on them. But the mob beyond was something else.
I felt a moment of trepidation.
My senses… I was more disabled than I’d thought. I couldn’t make sense of what was going on beyond my swarm, could barely make sense of what was happening here.
I moved, relying on two individuals to support me where my one leg wasn’t working properly. Not that the other was in great shape. Two individuals, the Clairvoyant walking behind, hand strapped to my shoulder—
I saw the forcefield woman in the crowd. Taller than most, a curved, crystalline horn on her forehead.
The people surrounding my swarm were working to get back as I approached, but the press of bodies only had a limited amount of give.
A forcefield materialized just in front of me as my power reached the very front of the crowd. I turned the newest additions to my swarm around, focusing them on the people who were looking to stop me.
My bugs got in her eyes, blocking her sight, crawled into her ears.
I felt as she bisected them with forcefields. I was already using the device on my back to move over the forcefield, getting a boost from the two who’d been supporting me to heave the Clairvoyant up with me.
He came down on top of me, and we landed hard, but we landed on the opposite side of the forcefield. Close enough, taking advantage of the woman’s momentary blindness.
I lowered forcefields and set them in circles around me before pushing out. Separating the crowd to give myself room to maneuver.
I needed to escape, I needed time and resources to analyze what I was up against, frame it all. I’d stabilized, I’d stopped degrading, now I could start building—rebuilding my knowledge base. Put everything into a context that I could grasp, with my mind working in a different way, with different priorities.
Then I could take control. Then I could eliminate the problematic elements.
Then everything would be peaceful.
A mission. I functioned best with a mission. My thoughts and actions had always processed best when I had a mission, a task.
I moved my swarm. Half of the original sixteen, they’d serve as bodyguards, protection, tools…
I saw faces in the crowd. Young women riding a monster, blocking my path. More than any of the others, they were strangers in the manner I’d identified the rest of the crowd before. People I had some connection to, all the more strange because of the lack of recognition.
People kept getting in my fucking way.
I could have gone through, but I felt a moment’s trepidation. The strangeness, the strength of the connection. They were enemies, friends, something, but they held an importance.
I couldn’t trivialize that. Couldn’t dismiss them. If they were that important, they couldn’t be weak, and that meant they were potential threats.
She had a hand extended. Something dangled from one hand. A short chain, a black tube with a red button.
That trepidation got worse. I couldn’t put my finger on why.
The uneasiness reached a peak. I gave them one final look, watching for any trouble, then took to the air, crouching on a forcefield. The members of my swarm followed, flying around any barriers I erected. A man in blue and white who zig-zagged around anything I put up. A regal woman in blue.
Too many unknowns.
I changed my course, and I saw the woman with countless wings standing, the wings spreading, a weapon at her side.
My pursuers were backing off, keeping a certain distance or circling around, giving her a wide berth. Was this a way through? If I leveraged enough strength, could I force my way past her?
I was scared, but it wasn’t the usual kind of fear. Almost the opposite. I was used to being able to hold things together, with only the outward signs. To channel fear into concrete purpose. This was different, the outward signs limited at best, the underlying fear simultaneously affecting me more. Like so many things, it felt alien, like I wasn’t certain of what I was doing, and it threatened to throw me off course.
That fear reached a crescendo as I closed the distance.
She aimed the little gun, and I changed course at the last second.
There was a small army after me now. Some were in the lead, and I made a point of blocking them, stalling with forcefields and directing ranged fire their way. The man in blue and white was chief among them, as was the blue woman in a regal costume.
More were moving to follow. Enemies from every corner.
Not a surprise. To be expected.
A man, flying with great skeletal bat wings, a kind of lace or filigree of bone stretched between segments, rose into the air to intercept me.
No, to intercept a member of my swarm.
My swarm worked to cut him off, but he was agile, persistent. As massive and bulky as those wings seemed, they shapeshifted in the process of each flap, the lattice of bone opening up to let air pass through, then closing when he wanted the air resistance to bear himself higher, or to one side.
In the end, a forcefield appeared through one wing, and he dropped a solid thirty feet before he managed to catch himself. It gave me a window of opportunity.
The path of least resistance… There was another space with only one person in the way. A gap in the defensive line.
It was a young girl that was barring my path. Her blond hair stirred in the wind of this upper atmosphere, and her great green-black costume seemed more decorative than anything else, with ribbons and loops of cloth flowing in a manner that made her look like a living work of art.
She wasn’t living art, though. As remote as my understanding of humans was, I could understand what her tears meant. There was no smile accompanying them.
Others had stopped, a distance away. Not wanting to interfere, even afraid.
She met my eyes, and there was something in her expression that I couldn’t quite place.
The man in white and blue was calling out, not orders, but something in that vein. Urging.
I looked at the blond girl, and I saw three shadows form around her.
My own swarm gathered, rising behind me on the floating shards of crystal. Some crouching, some standing, others sitting with legs dangling, as they preferred, running on autopilot.
She approached me, and I held her gaze.
She passed into my range, and—again—I felt the connection deviate. I maintained my awareness of her and her spirits, but my control over her slipped to one of her shadows instead. A shadow of a robed man with a blindfold and nails through his hands, wrists and upper arms.
The other two— I recognized their powers. A man with access to many powers at once, a fluctuating, flexible thing, and an thin, plain looking man with no costume, head hanging, with the power to make doorways.
She closed the distance, and her hand touched my cheek. I flinched away.
I had my knife. If I couldn’t control her—
She bowed, stepping away.
I felt a moment’s fear. Except ‘fear’ was the wrong word. The symptoms were right, if muted, the shakiness, the feeling in my gut, my thoughts being more fr
actured, a touch of queasiness. But it didn’t fit the scene, this meeting.
Why would I be afraid?
No, it was something else, and I was realizing what it was.
I was familiar with my power acting of its own volition. This was something in that vein. My power had a firmer grip on the whole of me, and other things were on shakier ground, acting the way they pleased. Feelings. My body.
Passenger.
No, why would it care about any of this? Why would it care about the winged woman? The two individuals who’d been riding the monster?
But it was the closest feeling I could manage.
She spoke, and I couldn’t understand the words.
When she saw that, she smiled a little, glancing over my swarm.
A doorway opened beside her. She floated away a touch, as if inviting me through.
I hesitated, at first, because of suspicion. I had worlds filled with enemies, worlds I needed to bring under my thumb if I was going to be able to relax for even a moment.
I forced the worries aside.
I felt another stab of that not-fear sensation. That balking on the part of my passenger.
The others around us were moving closer. There were angry shouts from some corners. There was a degree of attachment between some of them and my swarm. I raised forcefields. The man in white and blue promptly shattered them with a massive laser.
We were left staring at one another. I couldn’t move forward, couldn’t move back.
Contradictions, opposing forces. Some threatening me to stay, others threatening me if I stayed. Contradictions in equal measure inside me. That odd dissonance.
I stared at the portal. A point of no return. I could pass through, and I’d be able to take steps to get control, to carry out my plan.
—Again, that dissonance.
It was uncomfortable, distracting. I wanted to be able to pursue my goals unmolested.
I started to move towards the portal, and again I felt the trepidation, halting me, threatening to take my control altogether.
I closed my eyes, and despite every instinct telling me to do the opposite, I relaxed.
Forgetting about the mission, about the goal.
I could feel the shakiness returning, the unsteadiness.
W-wwha— ddo y-y-you wwwant?
My control was slipping, the others descending as the forcefields lost altitude. The forcefield woman nearly slipped out of my range altogether.
I reasserted control.
Again, I tried to let my passenger take control, to set things on autopilot.
Again, the others began to descend. This time, the forcefield woman remained where she was.
I let things continue, watched as they drifted away, back to the ground. The others gathered around me, the man with the blue and white costume, the man with bone wings, they backed off a little. I could see the latent aggression dissipating.
Some were still angry, still looking for revenge. The woman in blue seemed more angry than protective, furious at me, silent as she was. But she had less backup now.
It was a good move, for the short term. A puzzling one, but a good move.
I’d have a harder time taking control of things in the long term, but I was okay with survival.
I watched the individual members of the swarm touch ground. The girl with healing powers had been placed deliberately next to a living pool of flesh with multiple heads of golden hair. The healer’s hands were covering her face, but she didn’t step away.
Her hands slowly lowered, and she laid her eyes on the monster, which was actively, ineffectually reaching out for her.
Others were placed indiscriminately in the crowd below me. My swarm, returned to the place they came from.
I turned to go, and there was far less resistance.
The autopilot took control of the Clairvoyant’s focus. It turned my attention to faces. A blond girl. A girl with brown-red hair. The girl with the horned mask that I’d attacked so ineffectually with the knife.
Others. A red haired girl in another world, shouting to people as she ordered them through a building project, a girl who was standing outside in the rain, in another world, kids peering through the window behind her.
Before it could go any further, I wrested control for myself. Easier. It was like it was weaker with every set of actions.
I passed through the threshold.
Again, that discomfort.
This would be a learning process, adjusting, adapting. I was learning what it wanted.
It kept wanting sacrifices in the short term. Responding to its desires had left me feeling more secure, made the ensuing resistance weaker. The implicit promise was that acquiescing would be rewarded with a surer footing. Footing that I could use. There were doors open to every world. If I could take time to heal, to build my strength. Eating well, resting… I could move on, carry out my plan.
The question was whether the cost was too high.
It was a gamble. I was risking myself, setting myself back. People would come after me.
But it meant more control, and it all came down to control in the end.
I let the Clairvoyant step through the portal, onto the shard I’d just abandoned. The forcefield woman held on to him, steadying him.
I broke contact.
The last thing I saw before I passed out was the door closing.
* * *
I opened my eyes. The moon was too bright, the stars like little shards of glass piercing my eyes. When I sat up, I felt muscles in my neck, back and shoulders seizing up, cramping. The world swayed around me like I was on a boat, even though I was on a hill in the middle of a forest.
I was hungry. It had been a day, maybe two.
I heard the cocking of a gun.
My eyes shut.
Long seconds passed. I took the time to get my bearings, to catch my breath and let the world stop rocking around me.
When minutes had passed and things were bearable, I turned to give my attacker a sidelong glance.
Twenty feet away, sitting on a rock with a little messenger bag beside her, was a woman in a white dress shirt and suit pants. Her gun was in hand, a little revolver, resting on her knee, her suit jacket draped over that same knee.
Strangely, I felt none of that odd fear from my passenger. Just the opposite, if anything.
The woman spoke. The words didn’t make sense, but I understood them.
Where the words themselves were nonsensical, my brain tried to parse them anyways, and they found a degree of sense in my head.
“You knew it would come to this.”
I didn’t move, staring.
Speech. It affected me more than I wanted to admit, hearing it. Even if I grasped the meaning. Brought me back to myself, just a little.
“You don’t remember me, but if you don’t look too hard, you’ll be able to tap into vague recollections of who and what I am. You should know I have you in checkmate. There are no loopholes, no tricks, no ways out.”
My eyes moved over the area. I did what she suggested, and I could pick up a general impression of our past encounters. We’d crossed paths before, and I’d lost absolutely.
If we fought here, I’d lose again. Especially like this. I’d try something, she’d shoot. The bullet would kill me faster than my swarm would kill her.
A feeling of defeat settled on my shoulders.
“Water? If you speak, I’ll understand.”
“Yes,” I said.
She reached into the bag and grabbed a thermos. She threw it, and the corner of it sank into the dirt between my knees.
I drank greedily.
“What you are, you know you can’t be allowed to carry on. You don’t quite remember, but you’ve dealt with some who were like you. The Echidna, the Faerie Queen. You saw the Ash Beast.”
“Hearing the two… first two names makes me feel… shadows of feelings.” Talking was hard.
“I imagine so,” she said. “We walked very similar roads. We�
�ve done ugly things for a greater good.”
“You still—” I started. Then I shut my mouth. Why had I talked? I hadn’t meant to.
She raised one eyebrow. I didn’t understand what the expression was meant to convey.
“Go on,” she said.
“I don’t—” I started. What had I been saying?
Not me. The passenger. I had to relax. Allow myself to speak.
“You still do ug-ly things. I saw you with T-teacher. You work with him now. As before, still do now.”
“I’m not so sure,” she said. “There’s less of a mission, now. I have no cause anymore, and I hope that means I don’t lose sight of the little things.”
I didn’t have a response to that.
Instead, she volunteered a little more. “I’m thinking I’ll try to do some things without any help, in the future.”
I stared down at my knees. I was still sore from my unconscious posture on the hard ground. She was talking about the future, and I didn’t have one.
“I keep on asking myself the same questions over and over again,” she said. “Maybe you can answer. Was it worth it?”
I stared down at my hand. It was shaking, but it wasn’t from fear.
“Would you do it all over again? Knowing what you know now? Knowing that you end up here, at gunpoint?”
“I… know I’m supposed to say yes,” the words made their way past my lips. “But no. Some-somewhere along way, it became no.”
“Just about everyone comes to this crossroad,” she said. “Some get seventy years, some only get fifteen. Enough time to grow, to take stock of who you are. Enough time to do things you’ll regret when you run out of time.”
“Don’t— Don’t regret it. Was— Had to. Saved lives. But I would do different, given a chance.”
She smiled, bobbing her head up and down a little. “It’s always about the people, isn’t it?”
“Protect some, pay less attention to others.”
Her smile twisted. A little sad. “Can’t bet on the wrong horse.”
Not what I’d meant. “Giving too much power to wrong people. To bullies. With powers, bullies without.”
She gave me a slightly surprised look at that. “I don’t see that applying to Scion.”