The Indestructibles (Book 3): The Entropy of Everything

by Phillion, Matthew

  When he found Natasha's hideaway, he smiled. Always the flair for the melodramatic.

  Adrift on a cumulous cloud, slowly meandering across the night sky, Natasha built a castle like something from an old fairy tale. Four tall towers, a gate and drawbridge, and guarded by a pair of gryphons riding on the wind. Castle Grey.

  She's always said that she wanted a citadel in the sky, Doc thought. But all the years he knew her, the Lady had insisted it wasn't possible. Not because of the magic—the supernatural power to build a castle in the clouds was not as difficult as one might think—but because she was a nomad, because she kept no home and few friends. The Lady remained a creature of impermanence, and to build a home, to build a castle, was to put down roots and stay.

  It seems like she's found her compromise, he mused. A castle that moves with the wind.

  Doc returned to his body from the astral plane, gathered his belongings, and reviewed the words to key spells and enchantments he might need. One of these, permanently etched to his body, allowed him to fly. He casually stepped off the ground and drifted a few inches from the floor of the small room he'd used as a way station while searching for Natasha. Then, he carefully crafted a teleportation spell that would take him to the castle in the sky.

  A heartbeat later, he hung above the clouds, the earth below not identifiable as any particular place in the world. The Lady chose to moor her castle in a place where she wouldn't be disturbed easily, Doc noticed.

  He flew slowly toward the front gate of the castle, and two of the massive gryphons, big as Shire horses, landed to block his way.

  Doc held out a hand, an arcane symbol glowed there in greeting. Both gryphons relaxed and then bowed their heads in respect. Odd that Natasha would choose such creatures to guard her palace, Doc thought. She'd always been more inclined to darker beasts, demons and devils. Gryphons were violent and dangerous, but they had, over the millennia, always been more servants of light than of darkness, and Doc had made friends among the surprisingly intelligent creatures. You chose very noble protectors for yourself this time, Doc thought. Perhaps it was because gryphons were, for the most part, honorable monsters, and required less care in handling than demons would. The latter always needed more wrangling, more bribery, and the diligence of a constant eye to ensure they wouldn't betray you.

  And given Natasha's arrogance, Doc thought gryphons were particularly humble creatures for her to employ. He figured she at best would have discovered a way to be protected by a dragon. Though dragons were notoriously hard to bargain with as well.

  Either way, these guards of the Lady's castle allowed Doc to walk right up to the front entrance and knock.

  He waited a moment, listened to the echo of his rapping fist against the huge door. Then, the clangs and creaks as the gateway unlocked from within.

  Natasha Grey had answered the door herself. She looked not a moment older than the last time He'd seen her, but Doc knew that her unchanging immortality was a bargain she'd made long ago. He hadn't expected her to age in twenty years. Her hair appeared different, longer. She wore a dark gown, simple and black, that fell all the way to her ankles, ending just above her bare feet.

  "So now it's ghosts who come knocking on my door these days," Natasha said.

  "I'm not a ghost, Natasha."

  "Have you come for revenge, then?" the Lady said. "I'd deserve it, I suppose. Though revenge is not a very Doc Silence thing to do."

  "Perhaps we might just need to talk for a bit," Doc said.

  He'd expected something different from her, more defensiveness, more rage. But this woman standing before him, who had been, through his entire life, the single most dangerous person he knew, felt harmless. Defeated. And something else.

  She seemed lonely.

  I can't let my guard down, Doc thought, looking into the burning eyes of his friend, his nemesis. I can't allow her to fool me.

  But he knew her. He understood her so well. And the one thing he could do that no other magician, no demon, no wizard or immortal being had ever figured out to do was know when the Lady was lying. Only he knew her tell. It was the one thing he possessed over her, the one way he was able to stop her if he had to. Because the Lady Natasha Grey was the patron saint of liars, the goddess of falsehood, and that was how she'd built her empire of magic. How she gained immortality. Through the long con.

  And Natasha wasn't trying to lie to him now. He knew it.

  "Come inside," the Lady said. "You and I have some catching up to do."

  * * *

  Natasha led him through a vast antechamber, down a long, elegant corridor to a sitting room right out of a post-Edwardian lord's home. Doc listened, both with his human ears and with spells of detection, to determine if there was anyone else in the castle, but it seemed that the Lady decided to live alone in the sky. Small creatures, air elementals and wood golems, moved busily throughout the home, puttering away, keeping it neat.

  She gestured to a rose-colored couch, and Doc sat down, crossing his legs. Natasha chose a chair designed in a garden pattern. Another hand gesture summoned a tray with a kettle and teacups and that set floated in, carried by one of the little air elementals, which then poured for the couple. The full teacups rose from the serving tray and flew delicately to the waiting hands of Doc and Natasha.

  "Bergamot tea," Doc said.

  "Let it never be said I have no sense of humor," Natasha said. She leaned in. "Where are you from, Doctor? Another plane? Another reality?"

  "A different timeline," Doc said.

  If she wasn't going to lie to him, he saw no reason to be untruthful with her.

  Natasha nodded her head just slightly.

  "Your little friend."

  "Annie, for some reason, thinks this timeline is worth saving," Doc said. "She came to me for help."

  "Because you weren't here in this timeline to ask," the Lady said.

  "And I'm told you may have had a little something to do with that," he said.

  Natasha smiled and gazed out the nearest window, a high-peaked structure of coiled iron and glass.

  "It was just business," the Lady said. "And you and I always knew we'd have to face each other someday. How could we exist the way we did forever?"

  "And what way is that?" Doc asked.

  "Have we never fought in your timeline?" Natasha said. "Have we never been adversaries?"

  "All the time," Doc said. He sipped his tea, tasting hints of citrus, then focused on the raised etching of the teacup beneath his fingertips. She probably made this herself, he thought, impressed with the elegance of her imagination.

  "And we've never tried to kill each other," she said.

  "We simply don't do that," Doc said. "And we've both done some very irrational things to avoid really hurting each other. I'd like to know what's different here."

  "How do we ever know?" Natasha said. "You and I, we've walked the planes. We realize how one little thing can alter an entire reality. That an elder god from a time long since forgotten can sneeze in one instance and suddenly there's a reality where the oceans turn pink and the skies are silver. We've been to places where dreams are dreamt by mortals one night and the next they are born in flesh and walk on the other side of the veil. How can we ever understand why we might fight to the death in one timeline, and simply play chess in another?"

  They studied their tea, not making eye contact, not speaking. Outside, clouds drifted idly by.

  "Are you here to destroy me then?" the Lady said.

  "What?"

  "You've been brought here to save this dead little world. You know I killed you once. Have you come to stop me from getting in your way again?"

  "I think at first I did," Doc said. "But I can't hurt you. Never been able to hurt you. I love you too much. That's always been the problem."

  Natasha's glass dropped from her hand and shattered on the floor.

  Doc felt a slight breeze when the little air elemental zipped across the room to clean up the mess.

&n
bsp; But Natasha waved the creature away. Instead, she picked up a shard of the porcelain glass with her hands and held it up between two fingers.

  "In your timeline," the Lady began, never taking her eyes from the broken teacup. "In your timeline, did you ever reveal as much?"

  "Did I ever tell you I loved you?"

  "Yes," she said.

  Doc nodded gently. "Of course I did. You were my closest friend, for a long while. You taught me most everything I know. Of course I told you I loved you."

  Natasha smiled. Not a happy smile, one without warmth, filled with subtext and frustration. She finally dropped the piece of porcelain onto the floor.

  "So I knew that?" she said.

  "Knew it, yes," Doc said. "But believed it, I'm not sure. I was never convinced you really believed me."

  "Because I'm an unlovable monster, you fool," Natasha said. "Do you know how difficult it is to cultivate an armor of unlovable traits? It takes centuries to become a legitimate monster."

  "But you were my friend," Doc said.

  Natasha stood up, strolled over to the window, watched the clouds continue to roll by aimlessly.

  "I never tried to kill you there, in your timeline?"

  "No," Doc said.

  "I wasn't afraid to kill?"

  "Not remotely," Doc said. "You terrified me with your ability to destroy things without remorse. But you always left me standing."

  "Why would I destroy you?" Natasha said. "You were the only living being who actually cared about me. Why would I kill the one person who cared if I lived or died?"

  Doc joined her by the window. Below them, some European village or another rolled by, blissfully unaware of the castle in the sky hovering above them. The place looked untouched by the war, untouched by time.

  "Why wouldn't I have told you?" Doc wondered out loud.

  "One sentence," Natasha said. "That's how delicate these worlds are. One sentence can change an entire reality."

  "It might not have been that one sentence."

  "For me it was," the Lady said. "For me this world hinged on one sentence. And clearly it did for you as well. For us, our worlds divided because of one thing you said to me, just one time."

  "They say that the past can't be changed," Doc said. "We can't fix things. But can only splinter off another timeline."

  "I know."

  "So this place will always exist. Even if we save it, even if we stop the people who want to destroy this timeline, all we'll really do is create one more branch, a branch where things turn out a little better."

  "While the other branch withers and dies," Natasha said. "Time is more powerful than all of us."

  "It is."

  "You'll still try, though?" Natasha said.

  "It's why we're here," Doc said. "And it's all we've ever done. We try."

  "Well," the lady said, putting a hand lightly on Doc's shoulder. "You'll meet no resistance from me. I'm done toying with this world."

  Doc listened to the silence again, the vast and empty echoes of Natasha's castle.

  "Thank you," he said, pausing. "Why did you build this place, Natasha?"

  She placed her free hand against the windowpane.

  "Because I saw it in a dream, once," she said. "And when I had nowhere else to go, I started building my dreams."

  He placed a hand on Natasha's shoulder.

  "If you succeed, if you save this miserable place, Doctor Silence, please don't leave without saying goodbye," she said.

  "I promise," he said.

  "I need a better goodbye than the last time," Natasha said, in a voice not much louder than a whisper.

  Chapter 33:

  A cage made just for me

  The fallback location was a battered strip mall just outside the City. It had taken all night for the entire gathering of heroes to regroup there, arriving on foot and under cover of darkness. Whispering's wolves arrived first, bounding their way across the overgrown landscape of the City's dying corpse. Others trickled in after that, Finnigan leading a belligerent future-Kate. Several members of the werewolf tribe hobbled in with fast healing injuries and burns sustained from the bombing.

  Younger Kate and Titus arrived early, but Kate didn't feel much like talking, retiring to a dark corner in the veterinary clinic where everyone was huddling and scavenging supplies. Titus shrugged off her silence and she watched him join Emily and Annie who stood next to the machine that housed both Neal's artificial consciousness and the data drive with Broadstreet's stolen information. Neither seemed to be functioning.

  "Can I make an ironic joke about their fallback base being a vet clinic?" Emily said.

  "No," Titus said.

  "Not even a little joke?" Emily said.

  "Please don't," Titus said. "You know I don't like it when you pretend you think I'm a dog."

  "But the sad faces you make are so funny," Emily said. The blue-haired girl turned her attention to the strange box, not unlike an exposed computer, where the AI who formerly controlled their entire flying Tower headquarters now lived. Emily poked around inside the machine, muttering to herself.

  "What are you doing?" Titus said.

  "Fixing Neal," Emily said. "Whispering said he was damaged in the explosion. We're having trouble getting Neal talking. And the whole 'playing the data recorder we desperately need' thing isn't working."

  "Since when do you know how to fix computers from the future?" Titus said.

  Emily stepped back and put her hands on her hips.

  "Are you saying I can't fix Neal because I'm a girl?" Emily said.

  "I'm saying you're overselling your skills," Titus said.

  "Because I'm a girl?"

  "Because you're a pathological liar," Titus said.

  "I'm a genius, yo. I know things."

  "Yes you do," Titus said, his tone becoming frustrated. "But Em, you have never, not once, even pretended to try to fix a computer."

  "You're jealous I'm stealing your job," Emily said, smirking. "Now give me my sonic screwdriver and let me get to work."

  Titus glanced at Annie, who shrugged right back at him.

  "Don't look at me," she said. "I don't know what she's capable of. I certainly can't fix it."

  "Titus! I need a hydrospanner and a portal gun," Emily said.

  "I don't know what either of those are," Titus said.

  "Further proof I know things and you don't," Emily said.

  Kate felt a wash of warmth flow over her and looked up to see Jane sitting down next to her. Her own Jane, from the past, the young one who didn't glow all the time. Kate turned away to continue watching girl-genius and werewolf argue over the broken computer.

  "How are you holding up?" Jane said.

  Kate grunted.

  "We haven't talked much since we got here," Jane said.

  "We don't talk much in general," Kate said.

  Jane nodded in agreement. She looked over to where Solar was speaking with the scarred future version of Titus. They seemed to be discussing something important, emphasized with sharp hand gestures. The elder Jane pointed to another room and Whispering waved his massive, clawed hand in that direction in a dismissive fashion.

  "Wonder what they're arguing about?" Jane said.

  "Me," Kate said. "Future me. They're talking about her."

  Jane turned and looked at Kate too quickly for Kate to avoid eye contact.

  "What's wrong?" Jane said.

  Kate glared at her.

  "What?"

  "Why are you asking me what's wrong?" Kate said.

  "Because you're the closest thing I have to an actual friend anymore, and you look more upset than you usually are, and I'm worried about you," Jane said.

  Again, the glower from Kate. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," she said.

  "What, worrying about you?"

  "That you have no other friends," Kate said. "All you have are friends."

  "No," Jane said. "Emily and Billy look to me to lead. Doc's a teacher more th
an a friend, even though he says we've 'graduated' or whatever. He's still a mentor. Titus and I have never really warmed up to each other. Not necessarily in a bad way, but we just don't talk. You, on the other hand, never need anything from me. You don't need me to save you or lead you. You're just here, and I trust you with my life. And I think that makes you my friend."

  "Sometimes you're as weird as Emily," Kate said.

  "Maybe," Jane said. "Doesn't make what I'm saying untrue."

  Kate shuffled around, changing positions to rest on her sit bones. She looked at Jane uncomfortably.

  "I am so disappointed in myself," Kate said, finally.

  "What?"

  "With my future self," she said. "I'm a failure here. I failed."

  Jane scooted around to face Kate directly.

  "She was blinded. That doesn't make her a failure."

  "It's not that she's without sight," Kate said. "Look at her. Watch her. That's a defeated woman. She gave up striving to be better. She's stopped trying. I can't live like that."

  "You won't have to," Jane said. "This isn't our future. We make our own."

  "I won't be like that, Jane," Kate said. "I will not let anything ruin me. I need to be better than her."

  "You will be," Jane said. "Have you talked to her about it?"

  "Talked to myself?" Kate raised an eyebrow.

  Jane shook her head in response. "Why would future you be any less guarded than regular you?" she said.

  Kate sighed, just the slightly out of character exhalation before catching herself.

  "Something else happened," she said. "Losing her sight made it worse, but something else went down before that. I don't care what timeline we're in, I don't quit like this."

  "Do you want to know what happened?" Jane said.

  Kate's mouth quirked into a nonchalant, sarcastic smirk. "I suppose we'll find out eventually," she said.

  Emily's cheers of victory from across the room interrupted them. "Fixed it!" she shouted, flinging a piece of plastic across the room.

  "I do not understand what happened," a voice, decidedly feminine and not the customary voice of Neal, chirped out of the computer.

  "You didn't fix it, you ripped a piece off!" Titus said. "That's not fixing, that's breaking."