The Indestructibles (Book 3): The Entropy of Everything

by Phillion, Matthew

  "Why do you care?" future-Emily said.

  "Why would they do this?" Doc said, almost to himself. "It's like discovering hope, then putting it in a bottle and locking it away."

  "Why would you say that?" future-Emily said.

  "What does it feel like?" Doc said, his voice soft and gentle. "Does it hurt?"

  "Not at all," future-Emily said. "I feel fit to burst."

  "Not like you're being yanked within yourself?" he asked.

  "No," future-Emily said. "I can feel everything for miles and miles. Like I could put my arms around the world and squeeze."

  "I'm in pain!" younger-Emily said. "Why is nobody asking me if I'm in pain? Because I. Am. In. A. Lot. Of. Pain."

  Doc leaned in close to future-Emily his face almost touching the sphere.

  "You know what's going to happen, don't you?" he said.

  "Of course I do. It's my heart they broke," future-Emily said. "I know exactly what happens next."

  "Then tell me what we need to do to save you," Doc said.

  Future-Emily laughed. It was a bitter, hard laugh, emanating from deep in her throat, raspy from dehydration.

  "I don't want you to save me," she said. "You know what this means to me? It means I'll finally be free."

  "You can be free," Doc said. "I understand. I won't take that from you."

  Future-Emily smiled.

  For a moment, Jane thought, she looked just like her younger self, happy, healthy, whole.

  "Then take me to the stars," she said. "I've always wondered if I could fly that high."

  "So have I," younger-Emily said.

  "Then let me find out," future-Emily said.

  Doc rolled up his sleeves and began to cast a spell.

  Jane put her hand on his wrist. "You can't get her off-planet, even with your magic. But I can," Jane said. "I'll take her, I'll fly her up out of the atmosphere. Maybe that'll give us a chance to survive."

  "That is the stupidest plan I've ever heard," younger-Emily said.

  "Yes it is," Solar said, stepping forward. She put a hand on her younger self's shoulder. "This isn't your world to save, Jane. It's mine."

  "I won't let you die," Jane said.

  "Stop being silly," Solar said. "I'm you. You're me. I'll never die. I'll be right here. I'll always be right here."

  "Don't do this," Jane said.

  "I'll think of something else," younger-Emily said, an uncharacteristic sense of desperation in her voice. "I can think of something else. I just need more time."

  Future-Emily was inches from the inside of the cage, looking out with wide eyes. She darted between younger-Jane and younger-Emily.

  "I see it now," she said, smiling the tiniest of smiles and turned her eyes to Solar. "They're us."

  "They are," Solar said.

  "They're us, and they're friends," future-Emily said.

  "We are," Jane said. "I'd do anything for you."

  "Another reality. Another timeline. Another chance. Another way," future-Emily said. "The road not taken."

  "It's the road taken, for us," younger-Emily said. "We took the road."

  Future-Emily almost laughed, a dry, silly grin on her face. "Will you be able to return home, if you live through today?" she said.

  "Oh I hope so," younger-Emily said. "I just want to go home so much."

  "I think we can," Jane said.

  Future-Emily smiled bigger, and for that short, glimmering moment, Jane could see her friend in that withered and sunken face. She possessed, just for a second, Emily's relentless hope.

  "I'm ready to go now," future-Emily said.

  "Solar," Jane said.

  "Let me do this," Solar said to her. "This is my burden, Jane. My world to save. I want you to go back and look after your world. Let me do what I was born to do. This is why I'm here."

  Jane nodded. She felt a hand on her shoulder, Doc's fingertips holding on tightly. She put her hand over his.

  "I'm sorry," Jane said to Solar.

  "Be a better me," Solar said. "I missed so many opportunities. Be the best of us, Jane."

  "I'll try."

  Solar placed a soft kiss on Jane's forehead, a whisper, something to remember her by. Then looked into the sphere at future-Emily, half-dead, her heart tearing the world apart.

  "Are you ready to go, Emily?" Jane's future self asked.

  "I am," Emily's future self said. "This was such a hard life."

  "I know," Solar said.

  "I hope the next one is better."

  "That's all we can ask for," Solar said. She punched the sphere, shattering the bluish glass, and stepped inside. Jane watched Solar scoop up future-Emily in her arms as if she didn't weigh a thing.

  "Don't look so sad," Solar said to Jane. "This was always how it was meant to end."

  And so, smiling, the woman Jane would now never grow up to be leapt into the air, a stranger who should have been one of her best friends cradled in her arms, and together, they disappeared into the night sky.

  And everyone waited.

  Chapter 56:

  We are all made of stars

  Seconds later, Solar and future-Emily escaped Earth's gravity. They broke free of the planet's atmosphere, a wall of energy billowing forth from Emily's broken heart keeping them safe from harm, making sure they did not burn up while they rose into space.

  The air grew cold and thin. Sound gave way to silence. Existence began to feel like a memory. Earth transformed into a work of art behind them, an abstract object emblazoned with color and life floating in a contrasting sea of darkness.

  Solar took them past the moon.

  Emily smiled. She might have laughed, but the silence of space kept that a secret.

  They headed for the sun. Solar felt its radiation wash over her, unfiltered by the Earth's atmosphere. She'd never felt so strong in her life. Never so powerful. This is where I was destined to be, she thought. Here, where the sky meets eternity.

  Emily dug her fingers into Solar's arms.

  They locked eyes.

  And Solar sensed a different kind of energy radiating from this stranger in her arms. It felt like fear, like worry, like regret. It seemed like the end of all things.

  Together, they gazed into the sun.

  Emily put her head on Solar's shoulder.

  And then they were gone.

  * * *

  Younger-Emily felt two hands grab her shoulders. Before she could yell, she was yanked away, the world turning sideways and upside down. "I'm going to throw up," she said.

  "No you're not," Annie said, leaning in over her shoulder. "You're going to watch what happens next."

  The world turned red. Everything tinged with blood. The walls around her crumbled, turned to dust, blowing away like desert sand.

  "This is so messed up," Emily said.

  She really did think she was about to be sick. She couldn't feel the ground beneath her feet. Her stomach, her inner ears, everything that helped her body figure out where it was in that very moment suddenly couldn't. Involuntarily, she reached up and grabbed hold of Annie's tattooed wrist.

  "Why are you doing this to me?" Emily cried.

  The world melted away. And there was nothing. Just stars, and dust, and emptiness, and silence. Emily watched the moon wander off, unmoored from its place in the sky, toppling like some forgotten toy toward the sun.

  The Earth was gone.

  "We didn't do it," Emily said. "Holy carp, we failed. We failed. We're done."

  "No," Annie said, whispering. "You didn't fail. You saved a world, Entropy Emily. You gave a world a chance to live."

  "Then what is this, a planetarium show?" Emily said. The more angry she got, the more nauseous she got. Hold it together, Emily, she thought, puking in space can't be fun . . .

  "I told you," Annie said. "That timelines split. When something happens that changes everything. Timelines break off. They become something new."

  "And this is the old one?" Emily said.

  "Yes," Annie
said. "This is what happened in a timeline where you did fail. This is a timeline where you never showed up at all."

  "The world is gone, though," Emily said.

  "It is," Annie said. "A terminal timeline. This is the end."

  "But did we make the right choice?" Emily said. "Did we make the right decision?"

  "Every decision is the right decision somewhere," Annie said. She rested her chin on the top Emily's head affectionately. "I'm proud of you, Entropy Emily."

  "Can I tell the others about this?" Emily said.

  "You can try," Annie said. "But I think there are times you have to see some things in order to believe."

  "You're right," Emily said. She looked up into the heavens, the infinite stars, the unfathomable distance. "Does anything really matter in the end?"

  "Everything matters, Emily," Annie said. "Everything matters, and we are all made of stars."

  "You might be even weirder than I am," Emily said.

  Annie laughed, a soft, sad, timeless laugh.

  "I'll take that as the highest of praise," Annie said.

  Chapter 57:

  Heroes and villains

  Have you ever pulled a string on a frayed sweater?" the White Shadow asked.

  Titus, still in full-fledged werewolf form, hunkered down along the edge of the room. He watched Kate burn holes into the Shadow with her eyes. A sense of familiarity there—does she know her? Titus thought.

  Meanwhile on the opposite side of the room, Whispering paced back and forth like a caged animal, dying to get to the prone body of future-Kate.

  "At first, you try to just rip it out, right?" the White Shadow said. "But you don't succeed, and you pull more string out of the sweater, and you tug again, and then you try wrapping it around your fingertip to snap it, but that doesn't seem to work either. And in the end, you're left with nothing but disappointment and a ruined sweater."

  "There are probably more subtle allegories," Kate said.

  Why is she responding? Titus thought. Between the three of us, we've got to be able to get to her, to take her out. Why keep engaging her?

  "I know," the Shadow said. "Sometimes though, those worn-out allegories are overused because they make the most sense. They're something we can all understand."

  The Shadow stood up, began walking back and forth, twirling her short, sharp knife in her hand. She made a "tsk" noise at Whispering.

  Titus glanced over to see Whispering readying another throw with his spear.

  "I know you," the Shadow said to Whispering. "I've been watching you a long time. I realize how good you are. But let me assure you, I can pierce your friend here in the throat with a throwing knife long before you can hit me with that spear."

  Whispering growled, a smattering of curse words layered underneath it.

  "And I'm not afraid to die," the Shadow said. "After all, isn't that what we're all here to do? This is the problem, don't you see?"

  "What is?" Kate said.

  Titus thought about transforming back to his human form, but it seemed pointless. Stand and talk or be ready to kill, neither seemed sufficient to fix anything at all. He gave up, letting himself relax into his human shape. He wished, not for the first time, he'd gotten better at talking in his werewolf form. He'd been trying, but it never seemed to be the right moment, and he felt ridiculous making conversation with a mouth full of dagger-shaped teeth.

  "Of course you don't see it," the Shadow said. "This is why I've done all this. Don't you understand? Look at us. We're standing at the end of the world and all you want to do is kill me. For what? To what end? We're all going to die anyway. But here we are, angry monkeys, throwing rocks at each other while the jungle burns. We're so damned sightless. So predictable."

  "We're going to stop you," Kate said. "It's not just us."

  "Of course it's not just you. It's never been just you. I'm sure right now you've got friends rushing to try to stop the things we've set into play. But it won't matter. We're at the end of this sweater. And it's already ruined."

  Kate opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She narrowed her eyes.

  "I had the best of intentions, you know," the Shadow said. "I'm sure the others told you. When we first started, we put down all the villains. All of them. Or thought we did."

  "The Children of the Elder Star," Kate said.

  "Yes, them. And the Tinkerers, and the Godhead, and Masters of Destiny, and every other stupid group of madmen who think they somehow deserve to rule the world," she said. "We went after them with a scalpel, and when a scalpel didn't work, we went after them with a hammer. And you know what happened?"

  "You inherited their supervillain ability to monologue?" Titus said, shifting back to human form.

  The White Shadow smiled broadly.

  "We rid the world of a dozen groups of nasty people, and all that happened after that was even more showed up," the Shadow said. "Some were super-powered. Some were ordinary. Some were terrorist groups, or hate groups, or corporations who weren't violent but simply took advantage of those who couldn't defend themselves. And we went after them, as well."

  "You're painting yourselves as quite the heroes," Titus said.

  "We were," the White Shadow said. "I don't think your friends would disagree with me, either. Would you, Whispering?"

  The scarred werewolf nodded his massive head at her. "We thought you were on our side," he said in his rumbling, toothy voice.

  "We were," the Shadow said. "But then governments decided we were playing God, and took exception to what we were doing. And they tried to stop us."

  "And they lost," Kate said.

  "Which is where your friends came in. Trying to put us in our place. Trying to tell us what we were doing was wrong," the Shadow said.

  "But you were wrong," Titus said. "You tried to enforce peace."

  "Oh, I know," the Shadow said. "But that wasn't our greatest mistake. Where we truly failed was ever thinking we could make this world a better place at all."

  Titus raised an eyebrow, looked at Kate.

  Kate made no eye contact, standing on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce.

  "You really think this world isn't worth saving?" Titus said.

  "I know it isn't," the Shadow said. "I know because I tried, and I know because I'm not the first. I've seen good men throw their lives away trying to make this world better, little werewolf, and all they get for it is a broken heart and an early grave. We're not worth trying to save. Don't want to be saved. Can't be saved. And so here we are."

  The Shadow paused, a look of serene sadness on her face.

  "I failed to do what I hoped I could. I didn't think it would come to this. I never intended it," she said. "Not until I saw where we were headed. And then, I think . . . I think I realized it was all for the same purpose. We were meant to fail. This was destiny."

  "What would your father say about that?" a new voice to the conversation said.

  Doc Silence appeared beside Kate as if stepping out of thin air. For the first time, he no longer wore his red-tinted sunglasses. Instead, his eyes were open, blazing with purple-red flames, the literal fire flickering and dancing with anger.

  "I know who you are, Sasha," Doc said. "I knew your father. You're not the first White Shadow. And I had planned on coming here to speak with you like a reasonable person. I wanted to save your soul, because your father was my friend, and until five minutes ago I thought you both deserved better."

  He pointed a shaking finger at the Shadow and the knife in her hand turned to ash and crumbled to the floor. "But I just saw two people who did not deserve to die give their lives up to try to save this world and I want to know why you did this," Doc said, his whole body shaking with anger. "Tell me everything, Sasha, because right now all I want to do is to wipe you from the face of reality."

  Chapter 58:

  The White Shadow

  Once upon a time, there was a man.

  Different stories were told about him. Some were true. Some not.
In one of those stories, he was a banker, an ordinary man, who saw a crime in the street and, rather than turn his back and walk away, tied his handkerchief around his face, balled his hands into fists, and stepped in to save the day.

  During other instances he was a soldier, returning from the war—any war, the story changes with the passage of time, as all tales do—who came home to discover a world he didn't remember, a place he no longer fit into. And so quietly, anonymously, he continued to be a soldier, to be a force for making the world a safer place, impacting one life at a time.

  In still different accounts he was a mob enforcer. A thug, a man of violence, who was asked, on one occasion too many, to be a monster, to hurt those who could not defend themselves, and he turned the tables on his masters. He donned a mask and fought the very mob that created him using violence to thwart violence.

  And most often people spoke of a man in a suit, an office drone, who sitting in the park at lunch one day, watching the world pass by, witnessing all the terrible things the world inflicts upon its children, tired and disappointed, stood up, never returned to work, and made his life that of a hero.

  In all of these legends, there's the silk mask, the featureless, blank slate upon which anyone could paint their own picture. He could be any race. Any tribe. Perhaps he isn't a he at all, but a woman hiding behind a suit and tie in a period when that was all she needed to hide her identity, before the world moved on.

  The White Shadow was the City's first hero, and he came to represent the City's heart, the name you cried out to in the night when you were afraid, a shadowy figure in a black suit and tie who would be there when you needed him, who would save you from the cancerous maladies that gnawed away at the City from the darkness. The White Shadow was everyone. Belonged to everyone. He belonged to us. A tabula rasa, the nameless, faceless blank slate. An elusive ghost in the night. A hero.

  A hero.

  Are any of the stories true? Maybe. Some. An origin is there somewhere. But the genesis of the White Shadow doesn't seem to matter now.

  A man named Jeremy Light died that same morning Doc Silence touched down in a cornfield to retrieve a scared young girl who'd set fire to a barn with her hands. Light died not at the hand of violence but the way men often do—or hope to, in a bed, with his family around him, younger than some, older than others, and very old, very old indeed, for a man who took up arms against a sea of troubles and tried to change the world.