Moon City

by Benjamin Kane Ethridge

  Chapter 23

  I was moving so quickly I couldn’t tell which hand unscrewed the jars and which hand slammed them up against my mouth, but I had worked through almost my entire reserve. There could be no further delay with that robot looking for me.

  I threw open the last cupboard with a disgusting belch. The entire universe bent around me. I was so ready to accept my destiny and climb up Mount Olympus to live there permanently. Nothing was certain though. I could only wager that the remaining three jars of spinal fluid slurry would be enough. I believed deeply that it would be, just from how close I’d come earlier today, but I would need my food and require enough time to make the transition from flesh to living spirit.

  And in the last cupboard I saw the remaining three jars.

  All of them empty.

  I stared at them in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. These were jars I sent with Carl. I couldn’t have ever drunk from them. I reached out and pushed one to the side to see if it was leaking. Stupid to even think that… all three of them wouldn’t be leaking. And short of dropping the jars and breaking them, there was no way it all spilled out so evenly.

  Carl had taken some after he left. Probably stashed them somewhere. That was the only answer. He had taken some for himself, or worse, to sell on the black market. Did he actually believe I was that forgetful?

  I listened for his heart beat.

  Sure enough, he was only a block away.

  I called him, and told him as calmly as I could to meet me at the reserve supply shed. He didn’t seem nervous; his heartbeat didn’t even increase. Either he was stupid, which I knew he wasn’t, or he had a pretty damned good cover-up for this.

  Gingerly, I drank down the remaining three.

  It wouldn’t be enough. I’d cut it too close. I would need to kill at least one other Deitii. I was so angry I hardly noticed when Carl walked in.

  I turned to him and his eyes bulged at all the empty jars.

  “All of them?” he asked. “Why’d I even bother bringing them—?”

  “Shut up,” I told him.

  He made a face. “Are you feeling okay?”

  Sweat dappled my upper lip and I felt cold from the inside out. “You stole from me, boy. I can no longer trust you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I saw the last three jars.”

  Carl’s eyebrow lifted. “What about them? I put everything in the cupboards, just like you told me to. Maybe someone broke in and stole them?”

  I lunged forward. He tried to evade me, but being nowhere near as swift and precise as I was, I caught him by the back of the neck.

  “Get your hands off me!” he shouted. “You think I stole the sick junk?”

  I lifted him off the ground and took him outside. “Disappointing,” I whispered. “So very disappointing.”

  He twisted in my grip, his hands digging at mine to release him. “Please,” he said. “You’re wrong. I didn’t take anything. It had to be somebody else. Believe me!”

  I took him up the side of a boulder that cropped out over a small valley of darkness. “I trusted you.” The words were hot spit on my quivering lips.

  “Please,” he begged.

  “Over there, do you see?” I asked. “That’s where the Midnight Sea is.”

  “Don’t,” he cried through his raining tears.

  I extended my arm back and became giddy—I wanted to see his body sail over the void and slash in the brine somewhere out there in the blackness—but then something fiery stuck in my eye, and out of reflex, I dropped the kid. I heard his feet hit the dirt and him take off running. I swiveled around just to see the star-eyed robot plunge a dinner fork into my other eye. I growled in rage and met the thing full force. It stabbed me with the fork and what felt like a knife, repeatedly, more than fifty times before I crashed through the side of my supply shed window.

  I stood and shook a thousand bits of glass off me, not suffering a single cut. The robot twisted up from the floor, some of its pale, artificial skin hanging with blue-tinged thermal layers. I grabbed the entire cupboard that took up the whole wall and brought it down on the thing. Before it had a chance to make its way back to its feet, I knew I had to act quickly.

  I went outside, and rounded the supply shed. There I put my hands against the steel construction and pushed effortlessly. The shed tore from its foundation and flew off the side of outcropping. It crashed down against several large boulders below, spinning and breaking apart in the vast black space.

  If the robot hadn’t been outright destroyed, it was not coming back up the side of this steep valley any time soon.

  I turned and searched for Carl. I wanted to find him and end him, teach him a lesson for complicating my plans. He was heading home, heart pounding hard, yet I couldn’t concentrate on its rhythm.

  There was only one heartbeat I could focus on.

  It belonged to Dean Fulsome.

  It sounded like a drum the size of a universe. It made me dizzy and sick to my stomach. It was madness. How had it become so loud? Louder than all the other beings in Moon City? It beat irregular and fast and deep in a way only a failing heart would—except it was living on somehow. I had listened to people with failing hearts. I had listened to people with heart attacks. This wasn’t the same. This was like a marching band parade of heart attacks inside one person’s chest. It would have killed anybody not overdosed on Constalife. What was this? Was he trying to lure me into a trap?

  I had to end it or lose my mind. Why was this happening? I’d been so close. There was no time to pick at this flea any longer. It felt like I was walking into a trap, but I had to make it stop, and I was a slim margin away from godhood. Who could trap me?

  The cuts in my eyes sealed shut and my vision returned.

  Who indeed?

  Dean’s heart quaked inside my mind. I went to it, eager to get a respite from the horrible pounding.

  Chapter 24

  Dean felt on the verge of passing out, but as he hung there, tied to the com pole at the side of the road, one thing, one very small thing, gave him hope.

  The head of a nail.

  It poked out just enough that he could drag the rope around his wrists across it, back and forth. True, it probably wouldn’t cut through for another eight hours, but any hope was good hope at this point. He just wished his chest would stop rattling and his mouth, stomach, eyes, and ears didn’t feel like they were engulfed in flames. He kept burping up that burger and it provided more pain than relief.

  Rick waited alongside a defunct nightclub across the street. The galaxy glass scimitar looked ridiculously large next to him, but Dean had no doubt the man could wield it without any issues. He wouldn’t, of course. Rick needed the Moon City Killer’s brain, disgusting as that sounded, and he wouldn’t risk eliminating him from all dimensions by using galaxy glass on him. Rick wasn’t stupid, however. He knew if he had the best weapon to remove a threat, he had better bring it to the party. He probably already figured out that if this turned out bad, it was better to remove his opposition completely, which would then mean that Rick would go off hunting the Deitii, and one serial killer would have replaced another.

  For everybody’s sake, Dean hoped they both just killed each other.

  He continued to work at the nail, and for some reason, his eyes couldn’t leave that sword. Rick’s plan was interesting, and it made some interesting ideas twist into Dean’s own sweating brain. Redirection… redirection… It was his only hope with the Moon City Killer.

  His eyes lifted to Rick as he checked a long survival knife’s edge. Dean was pretty sure his old friend would never be redirected. He’d thought of all outcomes and was dead set on his plans.

  “Don’t do this,” Dean shouted. “Rick—”

  “I’m still doing what Limbus paid me for, buddy. Now shut it.”

  A figure walked down the lonesome street. It was the man Dean had watched in the videos. He no longer wore his fedora and his cloth
ing was torn and speckled with dirt and charred in some places. Stab wounds covered his torso and neck but they had scabbed over.

  He stopped, just short of Rick’s ambush. “Come out, mercenary,” he said with an icy tone. “I see now who pilfered my supply of food.”

  Rick’s body relaxed. He looked down and considered the galaxy glass sword.

  Do it, thought Dean. Don’t be greedy. Kill the bastard. Wipe him out from every dimension.

  A moment later, Rick rounded the building, just a knife in his hand. He flew at the Moon City Killer, weapon raised overhead. They crashed against one another and grappled together. Rick surprised his opponent by slinging him back against the building. The impact sent cracks through the plaster and bricks busting behind the Moon City Killer’s back. With a growl, he went forward and grasped Rick’s wrists.

  Dean worked at the rope but suddenly the feeling of warm fingers surrounded his own.

  “I know a quick way out,” said a child’s voice.

  “Kid, you gotta—”

  “My name’s Carl. I’m from your apartment building,” he said. “Now let me get this”—something hard went past Dean’s palm— “off of you.”

  The rope snapped in half and Dean was free. The kid stood there behind the com pole with a pocket knife. “This way,” he instructed.

  Rick screamed down the street. A group of conjured monsters had ensnared him and the Moon City Killer walked casually his way.

  Carl led Dean to an alley. At the end was a service door near a dumpster. “It’s open. We can hide there.”

  “Good deal,” Dean whispered. Over his shoulder, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Moon City Killer pop Rick Agate’s head like a water balloon in his fingers, then plunge a hand through his chest and rip out everything inside. It didn’t look like his old friend would be healing from this death.

  Soon, the screams ended.

  They got to the door. Carl went inside first.

  “Thanks for helping me, kid,” Dean told him.

  Carl turned around just as Dean shut the door behind him and pulled the dumpster toward him. The door opened part way as Carl hollered out to him. Luckily, the dumpster was on wheels and wasn’t too full. Dean was able to push it fully against the door.

  When he turned back, the Moon City Killer waited at the other end of the alley, the galaxy glass sword in his hand.

  “I’m pleased to meet you, Dean Fulsome. I’ve been busy or we could have done this sooner. I enjoyed the robots you sent me.”

  “They weren’t my idea,” Dean said, taking a few steps toward him. “I would have rather killed you myself.”

  “Now’s your chance.” The Killer’s eyes sparkled.

  “You should end this killing.”

  He snorted. “Why?”

  “I watched the video of your conversation with your mother. You said you had a son. Don’t you want to see him?”

  “He lives in another dimension, not ours. It is impossible.”

  Dean swallowed and steadied himself. His heart had calmed down a bit but still thundered. “I have an idea if you will listen to it.”

  “I cannot bear keeping you alive any longer.” The Killer moved forward.

  “You can be with your son.”

  He halted a second. “Lies,” he said and continued on.

  “It’s not—if you take that through the membranes with you.” Dean pointed to the galaxy glass scimitar pointed straight at him.

  The Killer instantly understood, as though slapped across the face. He narrowed his almond-shaped eyes.

  “You can go to any dimension you want,” Dean concluded. “The transport station is only a couple blocks from here. You could leave now. You’re probably the only human resilient enough to withstand the journey.”

  “You are not so stupid, it would seem. This is something I haven’t even considered, but now that I see through the fabric of all things, I know you’re right. It truly is a great idea. How did you discover this?”

  “I took a seminar on galaxy glass once.”

  The man chuckled. It sounded like his first ever. He glanced around, looking tired. “My work in Moon City is unfinished. Your Limbus cohort robbed me of my food.”

  “That may be, but do you really need it now?” Dean asked. “I’d give anything to be back with my…”

  “Fiancée,” the Killer finished. “Yes, so?”

  “I’ve given you a way to be with your son. Isn’t that all you really want anyway?”

  “Your sick heart rhythm is righting itself now, Dean Fulsome, but that doesn’t mean I should keep you alive.”

  “Sure,” replied Dean. “But you’ve never killed without reason. If you leave here, you never have to see me again.”

  The Killer lifted the sword and stood before Dean, considering the edge. For a moment, Dean felt like the sword might be the last thing he saw in this life, but the Moon City Killer nodded and turned back down the alley. Before he disappeared around the corner, he looked over his shoulder.

  “You spare this dimension, but give me to another one? I will kill there too, starting with the other version of myself. I cannot decide if you’re a coward or a brilliant strategist.”

  “I usually make enough problems for myself as it is,” Dean told him. “The other me will deal with you if he has to.”

  The Moon City Killer smiled thinly and lifted a hand in farewell.

  Dean immediately pulled out his phone and dialed the transport station to inform them there would be an arrival who had no clearance. “Stand down,” he ordered. “You’ll not want to engage this man. Just leave the controls open for him. Yes, I’m serious… and let me know when he’s gone through.”

  He crumbled to the ground and sat there, heart and head still buzzing.

  * * *

  The phone conversation with Tasha was over an hour long, but Dean felt strangely comfortable listening to her voice on his phone while he sat against some crates in the dark, quiet building. The strange gyrations of his heart had ceased and the sweat on his body had cooled.

  The membrane transport sustained serious damage as it took on the Killer along with the galaxy glass. Such a transfer had only been done a couple times before and the data wasn’t shared with anybody outside of Limbus, Inc. Dean had a feeling that the Moon City Killer had gone to where he wanted to go, however. His mission to protect the Deitii had been accomplished… at least in this dimension… but his reward of Golden Transport would not be available.

  The station needed countless repairs now according the Tasha, and it could only transport people to Moon City, not away from it. It would take close to three or four months to bring it back online, but it would never be able to make Golden Transports available. Every day he spent here, the time he’d return to Earth would be exponentially greater. So if he left in three months, it would bring him back to Earth three-hundred and sixty plus years later. Even if Sandra agreed to stasis, she would need to take around ten years off throughout the time to not succumb to hibernation damage.

  Short of embarking on a suicide mission, like killing the high-commander of a Grettish armada and stealing one of its wormships to journey to another nearby star system where a Golden Transport might be available, Dean slowly came to terms with being a Moon City citizen for the next few months.

  Not long to wait.

  For him.

  He called Sandra. She sounded happy to hear from him, learning the news of the Killer being removed from the dimension. News always traveled fast around Limbus, Inc.’s headquarters. If only Dean could have traveled back to Earth as fast.

  He told her he needed to talk about something important, and the joy in her tone quickly diminished.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard about the transport.”

  “Dean, yes, but we don’t have to right now. I’m just glad you’re okay—I was so worried, honey. I’ve had so much to share with you, and I—”

  “Look, I have to say this,” whispered Dean. “It cannot be. I’
m sorry. I can’t ask you to go into stasis now. It’s asking even more than I originally was asking, and even that was too much.”

  “Like I said, let’s just be calm and talk through some of this. We don’t have to make any decisions right now. There’s a lot of things we need to talk about. But we can do it together. That’s why we are made for each other.”

  “We’re not,” Dean said, his whole body trembling. “I don’t love you anymore.”

  “Come on,” she told him. “Stop being silly.”

  “I’ve learned things out here. I used you as a crutch too long. That’s why I left, because deep down inside, I wanted to be away from you.”

  She was silent for a few breathless moments.

  “You can’t really mean this.”

  “I do.”

  “So this is what you really want?” she asked.

  “What I need,” he told her, his heart breaking. His eyes warmed with tears but he wouldn’t let them fall.

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Good-bye, Sandra. It was unbelievable for a while.”

  She hung up on him.

  He didn’t figure, in that second, it would be the last time he ever heard from her. He was sure she’d call back, pissed off or sad or both, but he promised himself not to let his cards show. Sandra’s emotional intelligence surpassed his by light miles, and she knew exactly why he’d chosen to end it. One day she’d forgive him. At least he hoped.

  His phone rang again, and he smiled at first, thinking it was her and thinking how great it would be to hear her voice one last time rather than the possibility of never hearing it again.

  But it was his employee, Charles Blu.

  “So sorry, Dean… I just… Well, I gotta get a mole looked at on my back. I only go to a specialist in the eastern quadrant. Big problem though with my appointment. I don’t have time to do my incoming requests for tomorrow. I don’t want to stay too late today because I’ve been having trouble sleeping, you know?”

  “Sure,” said Dean. “I can handle all the requests. Just forward them to me.”