by Gini Koch
“Explosives may cause the star damage,” Lilith pointed out.
“True enough.” The trap Serene had made rolled against my thigh as “Supercollider” by Fountains of Wayne came onto my airwaves. Picked it up. “You know . . .”
“What is that?” Lilith asked.
Explained what the trap did. “I wonder if this would work on a parasite.”
“It’s not solid.”
“No, it’s not.” Looked at Lilith. “Um, do you trust me?”
“Yes. Why?”
Triggered the trap and tossed it at her. The trap expanded, went around her, snapped shut, and went back to its original size. Caught it before it hit the ground. I’d guessed right—“as big as a chocho” indicated mass, not merely size. Lilith looked bigger than Wilbur, but mass-wise she could contract down to something with far less weight and take up far less space.
“Can you get out of that?” Lilith didn’t answer, but she also didn’t stream out through the many openings. “Gonna take that as a ‘no.’ Hang on, going to hit the release button.”
Hit said button and Lilith streamed out of the trap. “I would have appreciated a warning first. That was somewhat frightening.”
“Sorry, I just figured it would be faster to see if it could hold you than fret about whether it would work on a parasite or not. This appears to be able to do the trick. We want to capture the parasite so that we don’t have to destroy it inside the sun and thereby risk the star itself.”
Wruck returned, laden with body armor balls in a giant sack, like the Anciannas version of Santa. There was far too much Fake Santa going on during this trip. “I cleared out all the armories. Hopefully no one will need body armor any time soon.”
“Also hopefully Mother can create more.”
“I can,” Mother confirmed.
“Awesome.”
“But it takes some time, so what you have is all that you can use right now.”
“Figures and no problem, I’m sure we’ll be good.” That was a total lie, but leaders were supposed to be all about the positives. “I think we should all wear these, including SuperBun. Let’s see how many we can get on each and still be able to move.”
“I also found similar armor but designed with face masks with breathing apparatus,” Wruck said, pulling these out of his bag of goodies. “They work like the body armor and we should be able to layer these as well.”
“It is Christmas!”
Wruck put on a face mask. Still looked like him. “Feels natural enough.”
“I can see all of you but can’t see the breathing apparatus.”
“The entire mask is a filtration system.”
“God, Drax is really an artist, isn’t he?”
“He is. I never took my armor off,” Wruck said, as he put on another set. He flexed. “Normal movement is not impaired so far.” He reached for another ball, then stopped and looked at me. “We’re going right now, aren’t we? Without telling anyone, without saying good-bye.”
“We are. If I tell the others what we’re doing they’ll stop us. If I so much as look at Jeff or the kids I’m not going to be able to go. Because this is pretty much the definition of a suicide mission. But we all know it’s the only way.”
“I believe that it is,” Lilith said. “Otherwise, I would not have been called.”
Wruck nodded. “I agree with your mindset. I, too, would have . . . issues seeing the others and not being convinced to try another way.”
“Based on the population estimates for this system,” Mother said, “and adding the system Kitty has named the Clown Consortium—since the assumption is that it will be engulfed quickly—there are well over two billion lives hanging in the balance right now. Not to mention the fate of the entire galaxy.”
“Which is Mother’s way of saying there is no other way. Because if there were, she’d be telling us what it is. She’s made to protect; the Anti-Mother is her opposite. And the good of the many outweigh the good of the few.”
Wruck nodded. “Let’s do this.”
CHAPTER 82
AS SUPERBUN LET HIS now-internalized Cradi Moon Suit show, my music changed to “Metal Heart” by Garbage and I realized I’d forgotten something else—I’d been given a Moon Suit as a gift.
Went and got said Moon Suit. I already had body armor on and, just before I put the Moon Suit on over it, a thought occurred. “Lilith, I know you wanted to wait, but what if I get all this armor on and you can’t join with me?”
“It’s unlikely, but I understand the concern. And the time waste if that concern turns out to be reality is not in our best interests. Please be ready.”
Made sure I was standing with my feet flat and about shoulder width apart, which was a good thing. Lilith entered me and it was a shock, exhilarating and mind expanding.
I’d felt this before, when ACE had entered me, so long ago now. But with Lilith it was different. ACE had seen the Alpha Centauri and Solaris systems and he’d shown all that to me. Lilith had seen the entire galaxy by now, and seeing that in my mind, all in a few brief seconds, was pretty much the definition of mind-blowing. I never had and I never needed to use drugs—my life ensured that I got all the weird, out-of-body experiences naturally that anyone could hope to have.
Noted something as Lilith calmed down and settled in my mind. It was a little thing, and not relevant to the current situation. Decided I’d ask about it once we found out if I was asking on the living plane or the one where everyone seemed to go when they died.
It is good that you had me join you now, Lilith said in my head. Entering was slightly impaired by the armor. This is good—it gives us more of a chance of survival.
Great. Just, please, in the immortal words of Han Solo, never tell me the odds.
Realized I needed to do something first. Took off my body armor and ensured that my earbuds were tightly in my ear canals and my phone was in the back pocket of my jeans. Put my first set of body armor back on, put on a face mask—as Wruck had said, it felt fine and definitely more normal than the Moon Suit had the first time—then got into said Moon Suit. It was still weird, but I could breathe and see, though everything looked golden now. Phone wasn’t affected, and the song was now “According to Plan” by Augustana so clearly Algar approved. “Wish we had one of these for you, John.”
“I can actually create a Moon Suit while also adapting into a star surfer.”
“Yay, you’re amazing, and is that what the beings who go into the stars are called?”
“As you’d understand it, yes. They are few. They perform some kind of service for the star and the star powers them in return—a symbiotic relationship, at least as far as we know. Most stars don’t have a star surfer.”
“So, the star surfers are kind of like those little birds that clean hippo teeth? Only it’s just a few lucky hippos who get to have said little birds?”
He chuckled. “Yes, I suppose so.”
“How do you know them?”
“My wife and I ran across one once, long before I ever came to Earth. So long ago that I’d forgotten about the experience.” He looked sad.
“It hurts to remember your wife?” I asked gently.
“Sometimes. But she would agree with what we’re doing. And laugh at me for forgetting about the star surfer.” He smiled. “It was one of our better shared memories. But it was truly long ago—we were still what you’d call newlyweds.”
“What happened?”
“It’s a short story, really. When we met the star surfer, she was dying, stranded too far from a proper sun. We were able to help her find another before it was too late.”
“How could you forget something like that?”
He shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time and have done many things. Some memories are stronger than others, some need to be nudged out, some are gone forever. Fortunately, I did
meet the star surfer and this memory was nudged out, or else I would have no way of knowing what to change into.”
“She could go into a star and also be with you and not, I don’t know, burn you guys up?”
“The star surfers aren’t made of flame. They’re made of what, for want of a better term, I think you’d call flame retardant.”
“It’s a freaking awesome galaxy, isn’t it?”
“It is. Which is why we’re doing this—so it continues to be so.”
Wruck and I put on layer after layer of body armor and face masks, continuing to make chitchat about anything other than what we were about to do, while DJ Algar spun a lot of sun songs like Lit’s “A Place in the Sun,” Two Door Cinema Club’s “Sun,” Everlast’s “Blinded By The Sun”—which meant I asked the Poofs to do us a solid and get us the darkest sunglasses possible, they delivered, and we put them on at around Layer Twenty—Primal Scream’s “Deep Hit of Morning Sun,” and Elton John’s “Don’t Let the Sun Go Down on Me.”
After about thirty layers, movement started to become impaired. At layer thirty-five and the soundtrack choice of Fountain of Wayne’s “Number 45 Sunblock” we both felt we were at maximum while still being able to move decently.
Put a bunch of armor and face masks on SuperBun and, once he said he was pretty much having to work hard to move his ears, we stopped. Then it was time to cover my purse—it was holding the trap, so it had to be hella protected, too.
We discussed whether or not we wanted to bring any of the metals the Cradi had given us along. None of us could come up with a good idea of what they’d do—other than melt, and that quickly—while inside the sun, so we voted no, and only kept the sphere from Cradus and Spehidon.
Realized we had no idea what the natives called this star.
Does it matter? Lilith asked.
It does to me.
Ah, yes. You are Shealla for a reason. You named me, and you were right—it mattered.
My music changed to “Be My Yoko Ono” by the Barenaked Ladies.
“Um, could the star be called Yoko or Ono?”
“Why not?” Wruck asked.
SuperBun said he could hear the name the natives thought and it sounded right.
“Yoko Sun it is, then.”
SuperBun corrected. Yoko Ono, both names, as in, this was the Yoko Ono System.
“So many jokes to be made, so little time. Really, sometimes life’s not fair, is it?”
CHAPTER 83
FINALLY, WE WERE READY TO GO. And at that moment I realized that we were all insane and going to die. I’d never see my husband, my children, my family, or my friends again. I wouldn’t be able to fix the rest of Mephistopheles’ errors, and Wruck wouldn’t be able to fix those the Anciannas and Z’porrah had made. We were just being idiots.
We needed to find someone else to do this. Someone more powerful, more experienced, someone who wouldn’t die in less than a second by going into the center of a sun. Maybe search out a star surfer and see what they had going. Sure, that would probably take too long, but at least we’d still be alive.
Started to hyperventilate and was about to call this entire insane expedition off, when I heard a voice in my head. “Even when you have lost faith in yourself, I will always have faith in you.” Mephistopheles had said that to me. And I knew he’d meant it.
I have faith in you as well, Lilith said. Or I would not be risking all. You think right, Kitty. Never forget that.
My music changed to Sting’s “If I Ever Lose My Faith in You,” his song about never losing faith in love and the existence of God. Algar had faith in me, too. And while the temptation to ask why Algar didn’t just snap his fingers right now and save us all was strong, I shoved it aside. It was a dirty job, and we were the team who had to do it. Period.
Took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Made sure that all my stuff and Serene’s trap were in my well-protected purse and put it over my neck, picked up SuperBun and cuddled him to my breast with one hand, ensured I had the power cube tightly held in my other, and nodded to Wruck. “Okay, Suicide Squad, let’s do this thing.” Hey, the Suicide Squad, despite getting the worst missions, usually came back with all members intact. I was good with that.
Wruck shifted into something that seemed to be more like Lilith than anything else—he was glittering in a way that looked white-hot and seemed almost insubstantial. But as he wrapped himself around me, could tell there was substance there and he didn’t feel hot. He felt insulated. And I could see through him, meaning I wasn’t obstructed. It was as if I was wearing a Wruck Suit.
“Ready,” Wruck said from all around me.
“SuperBun, it’s up to you now. Concentrate on the Anti-Mother. We need to land as close to her as possible, since we have no idea how long we’ll last at the core of Yoko Ono.”
Even in this tense a situation, knowing the sun was called Yoko Ono gave me a great deal of humorous satisfaction. It’s the little things you treasure.
As SuperBun shared the target in our minds, my music changed to “Superunknown” by Soundgarden, and I triggered the power cube.
We were inside the sun in less than the blink of an eye. The core of the sun was surrounded by a large parasite—it was clear that the Anti-Mother was trying to engulf the core. She was also trying to burrow into the core at the same time. There was a black circle in the middle of the core. It was small, but I could see it clearly. This appeared to be what Anti-Mother was trying to reach, so it didn’t take genius to realize that if she did, this was how Yoko Ono would become a black hole.
But the core was fighting back. Had no idea if stars could actually be sentient, but this one at least had a survival instinct of some kind.
It was warm but not hot. Felt a layer of armor burn away and it felt a little warmer. Meaning there was no time to dillydally. “SuperBun, do your thing. Hey, Anti-Mother! Your son says that you’re a disappointment. Yoko Ono, hang on, babe, and keep on fighting, we’re here to help!”
As an opening gambit, these lines weren’t my greatest ever. The consolation was that no one who heard them was likely going to share them with anyone else, seeing as we were all going to be dead sooner as opposed to later. Felt another layer burn off. Wasn’t sure if the layers were burning off of just Wruck or off of Wruck and me both, but actively hoped I’d never have to find out for sure unless or until we were back with the others, fully alive and unscathed.
But, lame opening lines or not, felt a surge of hope from Yoko Ono via SuperBun, and the parasite turned its attention to me, for just a moment.
Lilith went into action. Suddenly I wasn’t just seeing the core of the sun and the parasite surrounding it—I was seeing them, the individual atoms and the way they were moving, how they created a real thing, how there were two different things here, how the parasite’s atoms were attacking the core’s atoms, how the core’s atoms were fighting back, how the core’s atoms were losing and being engulfed by the parasite’s.
Then saw the subatomic particles. Really wished Chuckie was with us, if only for someone else to rely on with the deeply scientific stuff. However, he wasn’t, so it was time to pull up my Big Girl Panties and represent.
“Go away, insignificant creatures,” Anti-Mother said.
“Make us.” I was basically managing schoolyard-level stuff. Which meant I should have been ignored. My music changed to “Small Talk and Pride” by Olivia Newton-John. Took this to mean that Algar approved of the Schoolyard Taunting Method and that I should keep it up.
And I wasn’t ignored. Schoolyard Taunting Method for the win. “You dare speak to me in that way?” The Anti-Mother sounded pissed. Interesting.
“I do. I’m insolent, me. Whatcha gonna do about it?” Another layer burned away and I was warmer. Didn’t think about it. Well, as much as I could.
“I will destroy you.”
“Blah
, blah, blah. You’re a relic, an insignificant backup singer in a band that was over centuries ago. Your power was never your own, and it’s not your own now. You’re trying to steal power, which is the only way your kind ever gets it, because you’re not actually powerful in your own right.”
Felt SuperBun communicating with Yoko Ono in a way similar to how I did with ACE or, now, Lilith—as if he were inside Yoko Ono’s head, or whatever the equivalent was for a star. Also felt him starting to worm his way into the Anti-Mother’s mind, through a back door. He could do this because I was distracting the Anti-Mother enough that she wasn’t paying attention to any of the others.
The Anti-Mother’s subatomic particles were zooming at a high rate and while most of them were still around Yoko Ono, a portion were pulled away, heading for me. “I will engulf you first.”
Another layer gone. “Sure you will. I mean, you’ll try. I get why you want to, of course. Because I’m more powerful than you.”
SuperBun needs us to coordinate something very carefully, Lilith said. Once enough of the Anti-Mother is pulled away from Yoko Ono, we have to throw SuperBun and the sphere from Cradus and Spehidon, accurately, at the core. Aim for the black spot.
Wanted to whine and say no. But felt SuperBun’s resoluteness and determination that this was the right way. Couldn’t ask him to be less than he was, and he was a hero. This was what heroes did. My music changing to “My Hero” by the Foo Fighters was also something of a confirmation. Got it.
Love for me radiated from SuperBun. Sent the same right back to him.
Fortunately, SuperBun was in my throwing hand already. Unfortunately, my hands were kind of full and dropping the Z’porrah power cube was not an option. Therefore, how I was going to get the sphere was another story. One I’d worry about once I had a clear shot.
Another layer burned away. Be prepared, Lilith said. I am matching our frequencies to that of the star itself. It will feel odd to you, but it will keep us all alive longer. John is around you and, due to his abilities, I can alter him as well.