“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Jade spat out the words like venom. “Let me guess, simulated ‘accident’ to call attention to something their paranoid minds dreamed up?”
“Ah.” HuanJen seemed taken aback. “You heard.”
“No, it’s what I’d expect, what I’d …”
“Jade, what is wrong?”
Jade’s mind snapped like bands of platinum. Of all the questions he could ask.
“Someone bombed Shard Tower, for no fucking good reason! Someone carved a woman up and nearly took some parts away in a doggy bag, supernatural shit’s crawling up your ass! You want to know what’s wrong? What the hell are we doing? How long until it all blows up? What are we doing? Why doesn’t anyone do anything?”
HuanJen gave her the oddest look, and quickly ushered her inside the apartment, and closed the patio door. For a moment Jade felt an embarrassed blush - she’d yelled like that in the open air, the apprentice of a Zone Cleric people relied on.
“Well, we’re looking for Ziggurat Jack …” HuanJen sounded vaguely hurt. “And as that is a bit of a secret … “
“No, no that’s … that’s usual, that’s … damn it things are insane! Politics, fear, all that crap, damn it … how are we doing this, what are we the hell up to?”
The sparkle in HuanJen’s eyes was replaced with an obsidian glimmer, a kind of deep darkness. His eyes bored into Jade, but she didn’t care.
Jade continued. “We poke around and we give people potions while everything goes to hell. I mean, come on, HuanJen, let’s be honest, you and Rake and good in the supernatural power department, can’t we do something about how … fucked up everything is? If we can’t fight fucking Ziggurat Jack then let’s do something real?”
“Ah, yes.” HuanJen nodded. “Like what?”
Silence flooded the room. Jade stared at her lover with a mix of disbelief and curiosity. Like what? How could he ask something like that?
“Something!” Jade managed to exclaim. “Gods damn it, look at it, bombs and all this crap! And we’re chasing a boogeyman who should have been dealt with but wasn’t. Damn it, we need to do something. Fix things.”
“I see.” HuanJen sat on the couch, clasped his hands, thought for an endless moment, then looked up at Jade. “Just something. We charge out there and change things?”
“Well it’d be damn nice,” Jade griped, “Damn it I can feel it, HuanJen, the stresses and the strains, all of it flying apart … and we’re not doing anything. Hunting an idiot or a myth or something while it all falls apart. Don’t people get it?”
There was a sigh from the mystic, a long-tired sigh. HuanJen was centuries old for a half-heartbeat.
“So, what do we do? Kill someone? I can sneak in through a window and you know my skills with herbology, maybe a nice poison. Maybe blackmail. Or a good scare. Or a nice ass-kicing. Lets see, what can I do … that won’t make things worse.”
Jade stared at HuanJen. His voice was irritatingly paternal, but not his usual accidental paternalism. It was very serious, very emphatic. It was also the kind of speech that he’d obviously given before.
“We’re not superheroes Jade, and you don’t save the world by seizing it. I rather imagine that’s what a lot of people are doing, and it doesn’t seem to be solving anything. Do you feel any safer knowing people are setting off bombs and back-room dealing? Do you feel safer with political maneuverings going on behind your back? How would we be different, Jade? Because we’re ‘the good guys?’”
Part of the Vulpine recoiled at the words, branding her lover as distant, insensitive, even though there was a hint of pleading in his voice. But this was HuanJen, and you couldn’t call him those things no mater what. The little fucker cared enough that it was hard to get angry at him and hard to say he was distant.
“Don’t … I want to do something. People are hurt! Dead! People are going crazy! People … need help.”
“Tell me what, Jade. What shall we do that will not make things worse?”
Silence. Jade looked away from HuanJen. She couldn’t look in his eyes. She knew what she’d see, and how small she’d feel.
“I am teaching you to keep to the Center, Jade. Do you want to seize things, control things, send the world spinning apart? Or do you want to be in that to which people can turn, the calm pivot. Which will lead to less pain, less death? For everyone? What holds things together?”
More silence. Jade shook her head. He was obviously trying to be calm, understadning, avoid those annoying paternal moments. He was also, she realized, as tired as she was. When he discussed deep issues, he usually kept some humor. Now, he sounded exhausted. She almost felt sorry for him.
She could see how beautiful it could all be, but people didn’t seem to get it. What did he feel? How did he feel in those canyon-deep depths of his mind?
HuanJen touched Jade’s cheek with a gentle hand. “Saving the world doesn’t work, Jade, the world is fine. We can just be there for people. You … love what you do here, love being here, care for me, don’t you?”
“Damn right!”
“If things went away, would you still be you? Are you what you love or hate or are you where it comes from? If I die, are you still you?”
Jade licked her lips. You never imagined HuanJen not being there. It was like the sun not rising.
“I’d be lonely,” she answered finally. It was a fragment of an answer, all she could put into words.
HuanJen nodded. “If Metris falls you are you, if Xai turns to dust, you are yourself - but if you cling to something, define yourself by it, then you are lost because you must control it. Those who are lost easily … cannot care for those they love. All we are comes from the One, lose that unity, and you cannot truly care.”
“This is a wonderful time for a lesson.” Jade tried to sound grumpy and rebellious, and failed.
“I think it is,” the Magician-Priest replied evenly. “Don’t become lost Jade, don’t lose yourself to one part of the world. Then you are dependent. Then you don’t not care, you cling. Then you control, and that is what leaves us with times like these, a maze of clinging and fear”
Jade tossed herself onto the living room couch, arms crossed. Emotions stampeded through her head and heart. He was using this to teach a lesson, a damn lesson, but …
“What if I died? Don’t argue, just tell me,” she demanded. She wasn’t quite angry at him, she was curious in a rather agitated way.
“My life …” HuanJen paused, collecting his thoughts. “I am as I am, my love for you is because I love you. You do not define me, my love for you comes from who I am. If you died, I would miss you but … loving you does not make me who I am, loving you is who I am. I would hurt, but I would be me. If I wanted to control you, that wouldn’t be love, and I do love you.”
“Wow, that’s … yeah,” Jade toyed with the sleeve of her dress. “I love this place, HuanJen, this is home. I don’t want it fucked up. I want to strangle the idiots out there who keep arguing and fighting and don’t realize how damn wonderful this place is.”
“And you can’t fix it easy, can you, and that’s the most frustrating thing of all. When something you care about hurts itself.”
HuanJen sat down by his lover and placed an arm around her. Instinctively, Jade cuddled nearer. She knew his statement could be applied to her.
“Bingo. Damn … I …”
“If you love this place, accept its idiosyncrasies, as you accept mine. Surely I’m troubling at times and you accept me.” HuanJen’s smile was only marginally mocking.
“Parts of you don’t blow up randomly, but yes, you are … well damn. That’s a sneaky way to make a point.”
The mystic put an arm around Jade’s shoulder. “We can nurture, not control, we can help but not manipulate. Otherwise … we are the problem. That’s not heroic, that’s stupid, presumptuous, and selfish.”
“You know I’m gonna get like five percent of this crap … and no, don’t repeat yourself twenty times, I’ll get
bored.”
“How are you?” HuanJen was obviously concerned. He had moments of hideous incomprehensibility, but he cared. He always cared.
“Tired,” Jade admitted. “Humbled. You make a stunning amount of sense at time, but … its weird, when I think of it as I do what I do because I care, its different. Before you ask, I’m not going to do anything stupid.”
“Perish the though. Jade?”
“Yes.”
“I recognize we all come from one place, I do not place myself above, because there is no above. I stay at the Center. I am calm because I have seen what can be done by those who figure they are doing good for the wrong reasons. Control is not caring.”
“Yeah.” Jade lay back, closing her eyes. The red rage behind them had faded. “It’s easy to get lost, HuanJen.”
“Many have. Right now, some are.”
HuanJen shifted slightly, leaning his head against Jade’s. “I love you.”
“I … know. I could never forget. I’m going to try not to do anything stupid, really. I’m gonna rant and rave a bit, but not do anything. Heh, I guess the city’s sort of like our child in a way. I know you can’t control kids, trust me. No one could control me.”
The mystic laughed a bit. “An excellent metaphor, dearest. I’d say very apt.”
“Thanks, love.” Jade snuggled close to her lover. “I … well I don’t need to thank you, but thanks …”
April 11, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Brandon Thylar felt like he’d stepped into another world. This, for a resident of Xai, held a far more sinister meaning than inhabitants of most Earths.
The Nax was quiet, which he accepted. It was clean, which he’d come to expect after the remodeling. But in the corner he and his friends usually met in was one lone person: Garnet Rubissom. The crimson-furred, diminutive Vulpine skulked behind the table, staring at her drink.
“Garnet?” Brandon moved forward quietly. Despite his Technologist’s coverall with its tool pockets, he made little sound. That was not due to any natural ability, but to do a rather complicated love life that, at times, necessitated stealth.
“Hey, Brandon. No-shows. Everyone.”
“Well damn.” The Technologist dropped into his seat, pushing a few of his dark, blue-beaded braids out of his eyes. He reminded himself to get a nice trimming of his hair in the near future.
“Rake is busy, he was here for a few minutes with some fat shaman. Jade and HuanJen aren’t by, I hear it’s Jade’s six-month anniversary as an apprentice, they may be celebrating …”
“Or busy.” Brandon flashed an ivory-toothed smile and a wink. Garnet giggled.
Garnet continued after a sip of her drink, which to Brandon’s eyes appeared rather large and alcoholic. “Clairice is busy - you heard about Metris General doubling some shifts? Lorne … well let’s not get started.”
“Slate the same?” Brandon patted Garnet’s hand.
“A bit, got yanked back to his old assignment for a double-check. Joe is at least sober, he’s working on songs. Where’s your temporary roomie Verrigent?”
“Off with his gang, I think. Or something. Why did you even come, no offense?” Brandon was curious. He rather liked Slate, but Garnet was hard for him to figure out. When he couldn’t figure out a woman, he worried.
“Off chance of something to do. I got the groceries, the books balanced, the investments, the cleaning, all done.” Garnet shrugged. “I’m gonna help Lorne and Clairice with their place until things settle.”
Brandon gave Garnet a playful scowl. “Now, that is what I call domestic, Garnet.”
“Why are you here?”
“Er …” the Technologist shrugged. “Same thing. Work is slow with … stuff. I mean it’s not like the Communicants are going to toss out many new contracts. I’m doing fine, probably going to help out with some of the work for the Rancelmen.”
“In short, you’re bored.”
“I am definitely so,” Brandon lamented, “I don’t like it when the gang doesn’t get together. It’s like missing family, like if my old man didn’t roll in from Piscion occasionally with the brood.”
Garnet nodded. “I know. I’ve gotten to like it a lot, especially since Slate and I tried to get out more.”
“I’m surprised he trusted you out on your own?”
Garnet grinned. “He’s protective. He’s not stupid. And he’s learning.”
“Yeah. So … after this?” Brandon ventured. Boredom sat in his heart, a kind of anxious numbness.
“Er, checking on Lorne and Clairice’s place like I mentioned.”
“Ah.” Brandon bit his lip, thinking. “Want some help?”
“You are bored …”
“Garnet, these days, better bored than non-bored …”
April 13, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar.
Contrasts. Xai was a place of infinite mirror-modes of what-could-be’s. You’d never know who or what you’d see.
… a man with batwings, ethereally blue, his skin the color of the evening sky …
… a shorter man, oriental, muscular, short, eyes alight with unknown fires …
… two of them walking down the street, each with a large dufflebag, talking casually. Two people, just like any other, at least by Metrisian standards.
“So, how are you doing?” Fang Xianfu asked.
Verrigent looked over at his partner. “What?”
A shrug from the Outrider. “It’s this thing called ‘a question’ that generally assesses someone’s well-being.”
“Ah.” Verrigent’s high brow furrowed. “Well. Why?”
“Boss, you aren’t exactly yourself. Was it Jade, I mean …”
“No, that was barely anything,” Verrigent countered tiredly. “I do admit it is rather strange to be … part of a group, even if seeing a few of them now and then. Just many things, Xianfu. How are you?”
“Dandy!” A blissfully jaunty smile split Xianfu’s face. “The Big Guy and I went to see Battle Cooks live.”
Verrigent’s mouth twisted as if he was suddenly tasting something rather bitter. “I fail to see the appeal. What is next, competitive flossing?”
“It’s one of those things,” the batwinged man’s partner replied with mock aloofness. “Besides, we got our next assignment coming up with that level 3 charting mission. Then, well, who knows.”
Verrigent looked up at the bulk of Shard Tower. You couldn’t see the bombing hole from this side, but … he felt it there.
“Yes, who knows …”
More. I need to continue.
“I know, I understand. Yes.”
Good, good. Quite a team, no?
“Yes. I … do you feel his lack? Galcir?”
Hmmmm. I do. You partake of the essence of things now. He was a guide
“We are something else, aren’t we.”
Oh, I’d say that’s a very accurate assumption. Now, whose mind do we pluck next, and where do we spread our secrets?
“You enjoy that, don’t you?”
Oh, yes. It is like poison instead of the knife. It is not as visceral, but it cuts deeper …
April 18, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Something was happening, spreading like an illness. Heat boiled in Metris like a fever.
There was the usual chaos, the things you expect. The Communicants hammering away at the representatives of the Guilds, hoping the inevitable transition will leave their power and lives as intact as possible. Alliances grew and altered; University and Technologists, Technologists and Mercantile Alliance, more. Politics and hope and fear spiraled around.
Through it all ran the undercurrents. What you felt more than saw. Little pulls and jabs and hopes and manipulations …
… and one undercurrent running in neon-blood red pain and desire.
April 20, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
“Jade?”
“Mrph.”
“You forgot to set your alarm for your nap, dearest.”
“Hrugm. Burhfmyf.”
“We’re needed.”
“Whfgmuntn.”
“There was another killing, dear.”
Jade Shalesdaughter sat up in bed. For a second she considered covering herself, as she was aware of having only panties on. However, her awakener turned out to be HuanJen, who had not only seen it all before, but had done some rather interesting things to it.
Jade looked around fuzzily, trying to find the clock. “What time … well, crap. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“You seemed to need the sleep. This morning was hectic.”
Jade tossed her covers aside, and began rooting through the old dresser where she kept her clothes. Donated dresser, some of the clothes donated as well - the odd life of a Zone Cleric’s assistant.
“More murder? Another?” Jade selected a blue top from a drawer. A few emotions sparkled into existence, but didn’t catch fire due to the sleepiness still in her head. A small part of her knew she’d be in a lousy mood later.
“We think it’s another Ziggurat Jack killing, from what we can tell.” HuanJen eased into the room. “There are some complications, I’d like to have us all assembled.”
“Yeah … ” Jade tossed more clothes onto the bed. “Complications. Er … am I going to like this?”
“No,” the response was frank. “Brownmiller thinks …the Guild has taken an interest in this. And yes, I know, official Guild Esoteric stance is Ziggurat Jack is a finished phenomena.”
“Yeah.” Jade picked up her clothes and headed roughly in the direction of the door. HuanJen steadied her with a gentle hand.
“Dear?”
“Fine, fine,” Jade acknowledged. “How did Brownmiller figure this out? He’s usually doing … er, whatever.”
“‘Whatever’ allows one to range far and wide, dear. Shower, we have an investigation to do …”
A few minutes in the shower brought Jade’s world into focus. Another killing, at least one that fit the old Ziggurat Jack modus operandi. It was happening.
She held on as best she could. Calm and centered. She had to stay that way. She wanted to. She wasn’t going to be any good to the world if she lost it. There were moments where it felt like the top of her head was being pried off and she understood … and then she lost it.
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