by Gini Koch
One shot was all it took, which was worrisome in the sense that I’d have thought that the Habitrail was made from actual impressive materials, not out of the same plastic that regular hamster playgrounds were constructed from. But, since we were now under forty-five seconds, chose not to complain about Dopey’s shoddy workmanship and lack of professional pride.
“What the hell?” Jeff asked, as the water sprayed down and whatever the Habitrail was made out of started to crack, letting more water in. “Tell me you know what you’re doing, Kitty.”
“Um, I think I do. Well, in terms of stopping the laser cannon. In terms of our survival? Not so much.” Hoped my Glock didn’t count as machinery because I wanted to at least have the means to shoot the sea serpents if necessary.
The water hit the cannon. And the cannon’s humming slowed. More water, more slowing, until the humming stopped altogether. The timer stopped, too, at ten seconds.
“Okay,” Jeff said, as the water started to come in faster. It wasn’t filling up the room because the Habitrail was interconnected, which meant we weren’t going to drown. Yet. “That’s good, that’s very good. So, the question now is, can we outrun the water to get to an elevator?”
“To get to an elevator the water hasn’t touched. Per SuperBun and our prime example here, the water destroys machinery.”
SuperBun shared that there was one elevator that was protected from the water by a door. The one in Dopey’s throne room.
“Of course that’s where we have to go,” Jeff said, as he took my hand. “Why would we have to go anywhere else?”
“Or we could, you know, just run really fast to the closest elevator that doesn’t have water near it yet,” Christopher said as he grabbed Jeff and took off at the fastest Flash speeds I’d experienced from him so far.
“You were supposed to get to the ship,” I said, managing not to throw up. Adrenaline was sometimes effective even when the Hyperspeed Dramamine had no effect, and my adrenaline was very high at the moment.
“Yeah? I thought about it. Then I decided that I wasn’t going to let your kids grow up as orphans, even though I’d be raising them as my own. Call me a reluctant foster father.”
We reached the elevator and leaped onto it. It started up right away, though none of us let go of each other. “How do these things work?” I asked as I put my gun back into my purse. “I mean that seriously, because I don’t see anything that would tell this thing to go up or down.”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Christopher replied. “At all. As long as this one keeps on working long enough for us to get out of here.”
“Thanks for coming back for us,” Jeff said with a great deal of feeling. We did the A-C group hug, but we didn’t let it last too long, just in case.
Which proved to be the right choice. There was a loud cracking sound and, as we turned toward it, saw the Habitrail around the laser cannon collapse. The area was instantly filled with water and sea serpents, who started racing through the Habitrail.
We could see all of this because, amazingly, whatever the lights were or were made out of, they were still working, underwater or not. Decided not to ask in case I’d end up hating the answer.
SuperBun shared that they were floating phosphorescence.
Decided I could live with that.
Phosphorescence that, SuperBun added, was harvested from the inside of the sea serpents and had its own form of sentience, albeit a very limited form.
Told SuperBun to stop sharing. “Um, guys? Guess what things seem to have hyperspeed on this planet?”
Interestingly enough, all the sea serpents ignored all the elephants, horses, and squirrels as if they weren’t there. Possibly because they were on a mission. Two missions, really.
One group was heading for the big circular area that held what looked like the nastiest sea serpents, the boiling around ones. And, once there, they started slamming themselves against the Habitrail walls. This boded. But not as much as what the second group was doing. Because the second group was all about heading right for us.
They weren’t as fast as Christopher, thankfully, but they were still going a lot faster than the Slowest Elevator Platform in the World that we were on. Now that I could see what really was there, the cavern wasn’t nearly as gigantic as it had seemed on the way down. No, the elevator platforms were just unbelievably slow. Since there was no one to complain to about this huge design flaw, though, refrained from pointing it out.
Besides, I was far too busy huddling next to Jeff and Christopher, while watching the Habitrail From Hell become the Pieces of Random Junk and Debris Floating In Scary Black Water, and hoping that the sea serpents didn’t find our part of the Habitrail any time soon.
No sooner asked for than denied. Watched as a particularly nasty looking sea serpent began to follow the path we’d taken to get here, water rushing along with it to fill what was left of the Habitrail tubes. Looked up. We were still far away from the top. Thankfully, all the other platforms seemed to have made it to the surface with their passengers, because I could see many of them lowering without anyone still along for the ride.
“How much longer to get up, do you figure?” Jeff asked tightly.
“Too long,” Christopher replied. “These go up faster than they go down, for whatever reason, but that thing’s going to find us before we’re close enough to the top to jump for it.”
Water was coming in from pretty much all sides. The tube we were in was still intact, but the lower part started to fill up. And that meant the platform began to slow down, which, considering how slowly it was going already, should have been impossible, but wasn’t.
My music changed to “Smasher/Destroyer” by Fear Factory. “Guys, hang on.”
Jeff grabbed my hand and Christopher’s, Christopher grabbed my free hand. Just in time. The sea serpent—helped by water rushing into this area—sailed straight up the tube and slammed its face into the bottom of the platform.
The good part was that we went sailing upward at a much faster rate than the platform had probably ever gone in its entire existence. We flew out into the sunlight and, due to the speed the sea serpent had been going and the force of the hit, we went pretty high up into the air—a hundred feet high if we were a foot sort of high.
Got a good view of the planet. There was a lot of grass here, but there were other things, too, all manner of flora and fauna. And everything that was part of the planet was black. Not a dead black, though. This black looked alive, more alive and more real than any of the elephants, horses, or squirrels did.
Would have wondered how Dopey had managed to make this planet look bright green even from space, but the bad part was that the sea serpent pushed with its jaws at the last moment and sent the platform spinning, meaning we were now tumbling in the air with nothing to stand on or protect us in any way.
The worse part was that Gravity was calling, and it wanted its rules back.
But the very worst part was that, as I spun over and around, my purse opened and SuperBun flew out of it. Straight for the opened jaws of the sea serpent.
CHAPTER 40
“NO!” I SCREAMED, as SuperBun let loose with a rabbit’s shriek of terror. It was the first sound I’d heard him make and it was looking like it would be the last, too.
But then there was another shriek. And this wasn’t one of fear. Or being made by a rabbit. This shriek was the shriek of a pissed-off protector about to kick butt.
Bruno and Ginger appeared in the air near SuperBun. Bruno had Ginger in his claws just like they’d done on Beta Eight and during Operation Epidemic. She was snarling and had all her claws out, on all four paws.
Bruno dropped Ginger into the sea serpent’s open maw and caught SuperBun in the next moment. The sea serpent’s jaws snapped shut, just missing Bruno and SuperBun.
Wasn’t sure if this was an improvement—losing SuperBu
n wasn’t what I wanted, but losing Ginger was just as bad. Worse, because she’d been with us longer.
Poofs poured out of my purse, but they did so intentionally. They all went large and hit the ground first, so that Jeff, Christopher, and I landed on a Poof Stunt Airbag.
As I slid down to the ground, watched the sea serpent. It was still relatively straight in the air and starting to go straight down, back into the tube and the black water. With my pet, the pet who had insisted on leaving her home planet to come with me, inside of it.
Started to run toward the monster. Had no idea what I was going to do, but it wasn’t getting to have Ginger. Even if she was already dead she was still coming home with me. My music changed to “Just Stop” by Disturbed, but I wasn’t listening. I was getting Ginger, period.
Jeff tackled me. “Stop, Kitty!” We rolled on the ground, him shielding me with his body. Then he got us up onto our feet and dragged me back to the Poofs. “I can feel again, baby. It’s okay—”
He was interrupted by a new shriek, this one from the sea serpent. It was a loud, horrific sound, and it also sounded like a death scream. One could but hope.
As we watched, it slivered, just like something was slicing it from the inside. An ocellar with claws sharp enough to cut through body armor, perhaps.
The sea serpent turned into sushi in less time than it took for it to fall to the ground. Bruno swooped over, dropped SuperBun into my arms, then flew back toward the Sea Serpent Sushi. He reached it just as Ginger sliced through the tail end and he caught her before she fell into the hole.
Bruno booked it back to us, dropped Ginger into Jeff’s arms, then landed in Christopher’s. Christopher hugged him, which was kind of shocking—Christopher and the Peregrines rarely got along all that well. “This is one hell of a bird,” Christopher said. Bruno cawed appreciatively.
“And this remains the greatest cat in the galaxy,” Jeff said as he pulled out the wipes that all A-Cs carried in case an imageer or empath touched something that made them feel beyond icky and used them to wipe Ginger down. Ginger purred her appreciation.
“You guys are the most amazing animals in the galaxy!” Cuddled SuperBun, who was shivering uncontrollably, while I gave Bruno a serious scritchy-scratch between his wings and, once her face was cleaned off, Ginger a lot of kisses. Bruno got some, too. As did SuperBun, who was starting to recover but shared that he never wanted to do that ever again. Ginger and Bruno, on the other hand, were prepared to take on all sea serpent comers.
Then it was time to thank and pet all the Poofs. This took a while. All of Iron Maiden’s “The Thin Line Between Love And Hate,” which was a pretty long song.
Looked around—no sign of our shuttle. Hoped that was a good news thing.
During our love fest with the animals, we were joined by Siler and Wruck, who did Siler’s Patented Appearing Out Of Nowhere Act. But they weren’t alone. They had Dopey and who I assumed was Grumpy—based on her looking like the other, ragged half of Dopey, but also like half of Mrs. Claus, versus Santa—with them. Dopey looked even worse for wear than I’d seen previously. Good.
Wruck was in full Anciannas form—taller than normal, a little less average, a little more unformed, but somehow beautiful in a way that remained hard for a human to describe. He looked like humanity, all of humanity, while still looking like himself, only more so. And he glowed, just a bit. And, as that special, finishing touch, he had wings.
He was also righteously and furiously angry. He looked like the descriptions of Biblical angels who were about to rain down fire and wrath. His wings were fully extended and bristling, his countenance was dark, his eyes flashing, and the glow around him was flickering in a way that suggested said glow was about to become real flame. It was impressive, as long as it wasn’t turned on me.
Which it wasn’t. Wruck was giving the full Anciannas Blast O’ Rage to Dopey and Grumpy. Who were cringing.
Couldn’t blame them on the one hand, but on the other, these were superconsciousnesses and they shouldn’t have been afraid of a physical being like Wruck. But they were, clearly. They were easily as frightened of him as we’d been of the sea serpents.
“How dare you allow this, any of this, to happen?” Wruck thundered. “This is the opposite of what you were charged to do, and you have destroyed not one but two worlds in the process. And you were about to destroy all of existence. For your petty arguments and ridiculous fight for supremacy.”
Dopey and Grumpy were whining about how they had the right to do whatever, which wasn’t making Wruck look any happier. Had a feeling that he really wanted to smite them both, and also had a feeling that he probably could do it.
There was something about this that had been bothering me for a while, but I still couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong.
My music changed to “Is It My Body” by Alice Cooper and all of a sudden, what was going on dawned on me. Better late than never.
It all clicked—the weirdness of everything, the destruction, the lack of focus and planning, the general situation. It was because of one simple, but major, thing. “They aren’t superconsciousnesses anymore. That’s the problem. They became real in a physical sense.”
Everyone looked at me, Dopey and Grumpy, too. They looked pretty awful but they also had a look I was familiar with—they looked guilty, like they’d been caught breaking the rules and were hoping to get out of it somehow, probably by blaming the other.
Dopey opened his mouth. Put up the paw. He shut his mouth. Wow. The One True FLOTUS Power even worked on beings like this. Had to love it.
“Dopey, you will not speak. Grumpy, you won’t, either. Your excuses are likely just as lame as his.”
“I wasn’t attacking the planet,” she said sullenly. “I was trying to save the creatures.”
“Uh huh. I’d believe that, but the only creatures saved were the rabbits, and that was by us. So, nice try. I meant it, shut up. I’m not talking to you, I’m telling the others what’s going on.”
“How would you know?” Grumpy asked, even more sullenly.
It had been a long, stressful day, and she wasn’t Lizzie, aka someone I loved and did my best to be a good surrogate mom to. My temper snapped. Plus, my music changed to “Parents Just Don’t Understand” by Will Smith, from back when he’d been the Fresh Prince and hanging out with DJ Jazzy Jeff. Which seemed kind of like permission from Algar. At least, that was how I was gonna take it.
“You, young lady, will speak when spoken to,” I snarled at Grumpy. “How would I know? I named you. I created you. Therefore, I know you. And I know what you are, what you’ve done. You changed yourselves into something that’s not what you were originally. It’s a form that’s not mortal, but it’s also corporeal, versus the formless spirits like you were originally. You haven’t combined cohesively and, because of that, you’re both incomplete and, worse, you don’t have your powers anymore, so you can’t actually fix any of the mess you’ve made.”
They both gaped at me, which was weird to see, since each of them only had half a mouth.
“What do you mean by two worlds?” Jeff asked.
“This one and the one our other shuttle took a look at. Tim said that Cameron felt it had been recently destroyed. It’s the nearest thing to this one, so either it’s this planet’s moon or vice versa.”
Siler nodded. “Maurer said it looked like it had been hit by nuclear blasts.”
“Wonderful,” Jeff growled. “Start talking.”
“They’re sister planets,” Grumpy said, but far less sullenly. “They orbit the sun but also orbit each other.”
“This one is a black world somehow. Everything on it’s black because of the water. The other world, was it green once?”
She nodded. “When we . . . fought . . .” They both looked even guiltier.
“The sea serpents, are they the indigenous creatures of this world?
” Wruck thundered, sounding even angrier than he had before.
“Yes,” Dopey admitted. “Only them.”
“Yeah, I freaking guessed, you Earth animal stealers. Don’t even get me started on what you did to the elephants, horses, and squirrels, you sick bastards. I should let our resident Avenging Angel destroy you for what you did to those innocent creatures, let alone what you did to the sea serpents. I may be terrified of them, but it’s their world and you stole it from them and enslaved them to boot! You know what we call people like that? We call them oppressors, dictators, and all-around crappy people. But we sure as hell don’t call them benevolent.”
“Dear Enemy” by The Exies came on. So I was kind of prepared for attack, as Siler looked behind me and stiffened in a way I knew meant he was ready to start shooting or even possibly running. Anything scaring the Assassin Supreme was probably really frightening. Meaning we likely had another sea serpent leaping out of the water, because it could never be easy or else the cosmos would, apparently, dissolve in a burst of light or something. And even then, figured we’d be forced to fix it. But I wasn’t bitter. Much.
“We can save them,” a deep voice with a lot of force and carrying power said from behind us, interrupting my nonbitterness. “The other creatures. We can make them what they should be.”
We all turned to see a sea serpent head bobbing just by where Ginger had made sushi of the one that had tried to eat us.
“Um . . .” Wondered if it was time to run like hell or not. Hoped not. These pumps were not made for all the action I was putting them through.
“I am the ruler of our people,” the sea serpent went on. “You may call me Hixxx.”
“Hixxx, I’m the leader of our people,” Jeff said, Commander Voice on Full. “I apologize for our killing one of yours.”
“It was in self-defense,” Hixxx said. “We thought you were like them,” he nodded his head toward Dopey and Grumpy, “here to harm us. But after hearing your distress about how we have been treated, we realized that you are not. I would speak with your leader.” Jeff took a step forward. Hixxx laughed. It was pretty hissy, but not as bad as it could have been. “I mean her,” he nodded toward me, “your mate. It is clear who wears the scales.”