Darkside 2

by Aaron K Carter

  Carefully, I undo the IV bag and examine the bed. The little girl isn’t strapped down in anyway, it should be straightforward. I pick her up, carefully, wrapping her in the hospital blanket. She is limp in my arms, her head lolling on my shoulder, a mess of blonde hair, she’s indistinguishable.

  I walk out of the room, calmly and confidently as I entered. I’m wearing a dress which I HATE it but it makes me look maternal and normal. So does the knit hat that covers my typically blue hair and ear piercings. Normal and maternal are not two words typically used to describe me, but I need to be both to walk this child out of the hospital looking like a mother taking her kid home or outside or something not to do with kidnapping.

  Nobody stops me. it’s brilliant what you can do when you look like you know where you’re going. I just walk calmly confidently, down the hall, smiling at nurses and thanking a man who holds a door for me.

  And I walk right out.

  “I cannot believe you set the guard house on fire,” Aiden is cross with me. I don’t see why I didn’t set him on fire.

  “It worked,” I say.

  “You can’t use that as an excuse for everything, murdering somebody would work but that doesn’t make it right,” Aiden groans. We are standing on a train, going into the Capital. We are both dressed in street clothes, so nobody pays us any mind. There are enough orphans wandering the streets that we blend in. nobody glances to see that we are a bit too well fed, our skin too clean, our hair too well kept, to be actual urchins. They see what they expect to see. A couple of rag tag children chattering and getting in the way. Not a pair of Project 10s on the loose.

  “Right by whose standards?” I ask.

  “The---like---the universe’s standards---what if somebody had gotten burned?” he asks.

  “They shouldn’t have gotten to so close to the flames,” I say, “And anyway I didn’t start a fire, I made a small explosion which caused the fire.”

  “Oh, okay, you made something blow up, that’s better---”

  “I don’t see why you have to be cross with me I didn’t burn you or blow you up---”

  “I’m not just----I don’t want you to get in trouble, like real major trouble,” he says.

  “You’re thinking with my dad gone nobody will be around to protect me,” I realize. My dad sometimes gets me out of trouble because he’s so famous and important, people have to listen to him when he says I must be innocent for the things I’ve clearly done.

  “I’m thinking I will be,” he says.

  “I don’t need protecting,” I say.

  “Everybody needs protecting sometimes, Tess,” he says, “I know you’re cleverer than I am, and than most people, but someday you’re going to need somebody there just to care about you. and you need to let them be there.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I say.

  “You will,” he says, sighing a little.

  “Sorry I made you sad,” I say.

  “It’s okay, you’re just being you,” he says, shaking his head, “Let’s find Billy and have some fun, eh?”

  “Okay,” I agree, cheering up. I wonder why he gets so upset sometimes. My dad says if I make a chart it’ll make more sense. I don’t wonder that much. And it’s rich coming from my dad because he’s the one who complains that his Major Tom doesn’t love him with the unending frankly inexplicable passion he loves her with, yet I don’t see him making charts.

  “Tell everyone to get ready and to get in their ships we have four minutes fifty seconds----make that two minutes thirty seconds,” I say, tapping on the last control panel inside the main lift for the Russian facility.

  I’m about to go up, and when I do I have about one minute to run get in my ship and be prepared for take off before the whole thing blows, giving us enough power to lift off. the Isylgyns have loyally offered to set off the explosives for me, but their number system is slightly different from ours and I haven’t fully figured out how except that it’s about half of what ours is in terms of digits. I am aware I should just ask them, but you can’t go around asking those sorts of questions when you’re trying to convince a race of people you’re omniscient.

  “It’s gonna take at least a minute for the lift to come up, you are never going to run across the entire tarmac in a minute and twenty seconds, it’ll take you two fifty max, that’s your fastest running speed in ideal conditions---”

  “The heat won’t reach me for forty seconds that gives me----fuck---” I trip as my acid burned leg gives way.

  “Did you seriously forget AGAIN that one of your legs is burned?” Leavitt asks. He’s been narrating this for some time.

  “My brain is processing more important things at the moment,” I say, haughtily, because of course I did.

  “You did, didn’t you? That’s weird, I find it hard to forget not having legs anymore,” he growls.

  “Are you still on that?”

  “I’M GOING TO BE ON THAT FOR SOMETIME, TITUS, I LOST MY FUCKING LEGS---” there is a brief scrabbling which gives me time to giggle, then:

  “Major Card, what is your location?” that’s my Major Tom, again.

  “I’m ready to set the timer and come up, get in your ships and lift Leavitt into ours—can he still shoot?” I ask, concerned. My escape plan hinged on him being able to shoot.

  “TELL THAT BASTARD I’M GONNA BE ABLE TO SHOOT EVEN AFTER I’M DEAD WHICH SHOULD BE SOON THANKS TO HIM----”

  “That’s a yes,” Tom says.

  “Okay, good, lift him into our ship, get in yours, I’ll set the thing to blow, run out, climb in and take off,” I say.

  “Ten four, good luck,” she says.

  “I don’t need luck,” I say, into the dead com. I shake my head and turn to run, of course falling down because yes I did forget again that my leg is burned if you think it’s so funny why don’t you remind me, eh?

  Chapter 24

  “W

  e’re not going to hurt you,” I say, precisely two seconds before the little girl pins me against the wall. She’s still wearing the bloody hospital robe, and the bandages are still on, making her look like a little horrific doll. She holds out one hand, pinning me in place. Blood begins to trickle from her mouth.

  “We’re not going to hurt you; I’m not forcing you to stay here. you can go if you like,” I say, carefully, “I’ve just brought you here to keep you safe. You know they’ll lock you up if they know you can do that.”

  “Doctor,” she says, “The doctor knows.”

  “Dr. Lutz? Yes, she sent me to you,” I say, “She’s going to come and check on you. we only want you safe. We’ll help you get home, if you like, where’s your family?”

  “Who’s we?” she asks, still not letting go. Blood is running from her mouth and eyes now, as well as nose. It’s hurting her to do this to me.

  “We,” I say, shaking my sleeve down on my left arm to reveal the tattoo on my wrist. A thin line with the word Vindictafroming a cross. “Help people.”

  She lowers her hand and I’m instantly released. I stagger a little. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Why didn’t you turn me in?” she asks.

  “We help people. I don’t think you want to hurt anyone. I think you can, but then again, so can I,” I say.

  “Bad people?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Like who did this to me?” she asks, looking at the bandages.

  “Yes,” I say, “Do you know who did it? Dr. Lutz says you said it was a doctor.”

  “He is,” she says, “I don’t know his name. but I know what he looks like.”

  “We can work off that,” I say.

  “You’re really not going to take me back to the police?” she asks.

  “No, I’m really not. I’ll help you get home, who are your family?” I ask, “Surely they’ll be worried about you. I only meant to kidnap you from the police, not from them.”

  “I don’t have a home,” she says, shaking her head.

  “You have so
mebody you lived with,” I say, frowning.

  “No. I’m from an orphanage,” she says.

  “What’s your name?” I ask.

  “I’m not telling you,” she says, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of the hospital gown.

  “Okay,” I say, shrugging, and running a hand through my hair, “I’ll try to find some of my clothes you can fit in. you can stay here with me as long as you like.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  “Because you can,” I say.

  “I’d have to stay hidden,” she says.

  “Not forever, I know there are other mutants loose, some I’ve heard live with the gypsies, some just disguise themselves in the cities, we’ll work out something,” I promise.

  “Okay,” she says, unwrapping the bandage on her wrist to look at the scar. “Am I really free to go?”

  “Yeah,” I say, “You’re really free.”

  Tom lowers me into the cockpit, she’s surprisingly strong because I’m about twice as big as her even if a good chunk of me is missing. But she lifts me with only a grunt, lowering me into the half crushed cockpit, still crusty and damp with my blood, my severed legs right where I left them mostly beneath the smashed metal, just bits of bone and skin sticking out. She looks at them as though aware of how bad this is but knowing full well we can’t do anything about it. this is the best we’ve got to get us out of here.

  “Can it run?” she asks, as I begin tapping the control panel.

  “Well enough, Nav’s down but the asshole can handle that,” I say.

  “If Major Card lives,” she says, connecting my suit around me.

  “Did I hear my name taken in vain---get in your bloody ship Major Tom this place is about to be on fire,” the asshole says, clapping her on the back as he climbs in above me. He’s taken off his helmet and is only breathing through his oxygen tubes. His face is noticeably mostly covered with anti-acid packs, except unfortunately his mouth.

  “Going, safe flying,” she says, slapping the back of his head as he belts himself in, switching both of our feeds over to the ship’s oxygen.

  “Fun, fun, fun, fun, flying, ready to see some stars, Captain?” he asks, exactly as excited as a child on Christmas morning with a toy airplane. A mechanical one that flew around the living room, that you could chase your sister with and put her dolls in it. Not that I ever had one of those. I wanted one, though. I didn’t tell my mum because I knew we didn’t have the money.

  “Took you long enough, Major Card,” I say, as the ground heats beneath us, my control panel comes to life. I instantly take hold of the joystick, firing at the Isylgyn’s hold out in the guard post not fifty feet from us. It explodes in flame. I laugh which is when I realize I really, really am high on the morphine.

  “AC squadron do you read me?” the demented bastard asks, tapping his headset.

  “Loud and clear, Major Card,” Major Tom replies.

  “Yes sir,” the others answer, four others, all that’s left of our crew of twenty ships.

  “Let’s go home,” he says. and we have lift off.

  “What are the two of you doing here?” Billy sits up in his hospital bed, happily, upon seeing Aiden and I dart in his room, closing the door quickly behind us.

  “Seeing you, silly,” I say, climbing on the foot of his bed.

  “We snuck out,” Aiden says.

  “Sneaked.” That’s me in case you were wondering.

  “Shut up.” Aiden, obviously.

  “Guys you shouldn’t have come all this way,” Billy says, pulling us both in for a hug. “You’ll get in trouble.”

  “I was born in trouble,” I say, squeezing his feet like my dad does to me when I’m tucked up in bed.

  “I heard your dad’s squadron went missing,” Billy says, sympathetically, “Have they found them yet?”

  “No, not yet,” I say, confidently, “But I’m sure they’ll get in contact with them soon. My dad says he’ll always come home.”

  “How are things?”

  “A hospital dinner? Seriously?”

  “You said bring food you didn’t say how,” Shannon mutters, going to the heating unit to put the tray in. “Hi sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that,” our sullen refugee is sitting on my bed, licking her wounds quite literally. I figure she can’t poison herself with her own spit so I’m letting that happen. I’ve dressed her in one of my t-shirts and a pair of cargo pants. the pants are a bit too big for her but she looks comfy at least.

  “We’re doing very well,” I say, smiling at the little shaggy person sitting on my bed, “And she’s not told me her name so it’s hard to know what to call her.”

  “Why haven’t you told us your name?” Shannon asks, frowning at her.

  “I don’t have one,” the little girl says.

  “Everybody’s called something,” Shannon says.

  “Not me.”

  “What do you want to be called then?” I ask, tiredly. She’s very obstinate. And proud. And annoying. I really deserve her.

  “Nothing,” she says, still licking blood off her wrist.

  “Well, we’re going to call you something,” Shannon says, trying to be playful but not really smiling. I can tell she’s awkward---oh yes she has a kid about this age. Project 10, that’s why she does this, protect little kids without mums. Unlike me, I do this for revenge. Not very healthy but you know, satisfying, so whatever.

  “Fine, I’ll name you, just give me time,” I say, flicking my hair out of my face.

  “Fine, I don’t care,” the little girl mutters.

  There is no more perfect feeling in the world than flying. My whole being washes away and I take the moment to let every part of my senses eclipse into the perfect oneness that is flying, sailing through the stars, being a spaceman. Sailing through outer space. The lights fading out and the dark closing in, like a song you can’t get out of your head playing beautifully on and on and you can’t stop it even if you wanted to try. and then you disappear which is the best part because there is some of us who hates all of us and that part is gone till the end of nonexistence journeys into the ecstasy that is flying.

  “You in your zone?” Leavitt asks. I realize I’ve rolled my head back and I’m staring straightforward, arms relaxed a little as my eyes go unfocused into enjoying the passion of it. we’re safe now, just cruising, no more fancy maneuvers or tricks just flying. Leavitt and Tom mostly dispatched the last of my Isylgyn ships about fifteen minutes ago, and they were retreating anyway because of the communications I sent out, now we’re just on our way back to Kepler.

  “Yeah,” I say, tipping my head back.

  “Good I like you that way you’re more human, except I don’t have legs so I can only work the big guns not the missiles, and I’m pretty sure my coms unit got smashed with my legs and Major Tom’s coms unit got shot out a couple of hours ago so we need to try yours,” he says.

  “Right,” I say, tapping the controls, “It’s live, I’ll try the Ulysses, see if they’re missing us, eh?”

  “Yeah, tell ‘em not to arrange our funerals just yet,” he says, and I can hear him grinning.

  “They probably already have,” I say, then I realize that that means Tess probably knows we went missing. I wonder what she thinks. I’ve told her I’ll come home. always.

  “Your little girl will be happy to hear you’re okay,” he says, guessing my thoughts.

  “I tell her I’m always coming home,” I say.

  “Still, she’s a kid,” he says, “I tell my mum I’m probably not coming home. She says that isn’t very reassuring but I say it’s probably true so I’m not lying.”

  “I’m not lying either,” I say. I’m not. I’ll always come home to her, right up to the day I take her to the stars with me.

  “I didn’t say you were,” he says, quietly. The unspoken agreement that somehow I have the power, and so long as I like to I will use it to come home. and since I have her I will go home. home. funny word for a place that never su
ited me. the stars are home. That’s going back.

  “You ever think of out here as home, Leavitt, and back there as the place we come from?” I ask, because that is how I’ve quantified it.

  “Yes and no,” he says.

  “I do hate that phrase, how so?” I ask.

  “No, not for me. for me that’s home, Kepler is home. Yes, for you I do, I think you were meant to be in outer space, somehow wires got crossed and you wound up being human but you were meant to be a star or a galaxy or something,” he says.

  “You are completely high you know that?” I ask, tapping the coms unit which still hasn’t connected.

  “Oh, yeah, definitely, I should have been unconscious if not dead hours ago,” he says, laughing, “Thing is at this point I don’t care.”

  “You don’t care about your legs?” I ask, because that’s disappointing.

  “No, I still care about those,” he says, quietly, “it comes and goes, like walking through a fog, and knowing which way you’re supposed to be going but you can’t see it.”

  “I don’t know what that’s like, I always know where I’m going and where I’ve been and where I might go,” I say.

  “That’s sad, depressing really---shit the last time I was this fucking hammered I was probably fifteen---God it’s awful, it’s like everything is cloudy, yet you see everything,” he says.

  “Just see any enemy ships for me, all right?” I ask.

  “Got it, I told you I can still kill. Funny I can always kill,” he says.

  “So can I---hello Kip. Think I was dead this time?” I ask, as the coms unit finally connects.

  “Major Card, wonderful yet not excessively surprising to hear your voice what is your location?” Kip asks, lazily. I doubt if he thought I was dead.