Fallout (Tales of the Other Universe Book 2)

by J. G. Taschereau

  “Baba?” Dee called out. Baraluneska didn’t answer her. Dee stepped into the room further, standing under the light that fell from above. “Baba, are you alright?”

  Baraluneska sighed. “I have seen better days. Is there something you wish to tell me, Diatyallah?”

  Dee clenched the strap of her travel bag. “Greg left after the attack last night. The ones who attacked the village were the people we came to here get help from so I don’t know where he would have gone to. My best guess is that he went to Khanka anyway to try and figure out why the Khazaki turned against him. I’m going to go there and try to find him.”

  “Is that so?” Baraluneska asked.

  “I know you must be disappointed in me. I’ve only been back for two days and I’m already leaving, but this is something I need to do.”

  “And should we even expect you to return if you do find him? Or will I lose you forever this time?”

  “Baba, please don’t be like that,” said Dee.

  Baraluneska opened her eyes and glared at Dee. “It is my right to be distraught. I was overjoyed to have you back, to know that you were safe at home and that your life could continue as it would have if not for Amadeus. I believed that you would stay here where you belonged and let that dangerous man be on his way, as he had planned.”

  “What are you saying, Baba?”

  “He never got the chance to tell you,” said Baraluneska. “We had a long talk the day you arrived. We both agreed that there are only dark, perilous times ahead for him, and that we didn’t want you to be at risk of that. He planned to leave you here with us, with the life you deserve.”

  Dee’s jaw dropped. “No, he would have told me. I wouldn’t have let him go without me, even if things got dangerous. I still would have gone with him.”

  “Even if it was against his wishes? Or against mine?” Baraluneska asked her. “Why do you have to fight us when we have your best interests in mine? Why can’t you see that your place is here, Diatyallah?”

  Dee scowled at her grandmother. “My place is where I decide it to be, Baba. I’m not going to let someone else dictate what I do with my life, not Greg, not the Creator, and not you. It’s not like I’m enjoying the fact that I have to walk away again after just coming home, or that I’m letting you down. I hate it. But it’s something I have to do. Not just for Greg, but for me as well. I will protect this village by helping Greg stop the people responsible for this, and I will take care of myself. I need you to believe that I can do that.”

  Baraluneska and Dee stared at each other in silence for a while as Dee kept herself puffed up. She had never before stood up to her grandmother, and there was something strangely liberating about it. Finally Baraluneska shut her eyes again and bowed her head, laying her lands flat on the table.

  “You’ve grown much from the girl who left in search of her teacher, Diatyallah,” said Baraluneska. “In those days, you were only concerned with Amadeus. While your affection for the Legend is clear, you’re not leaving us now just to find him. You’re out to define yourself as something greater than what I had set you up to be. That is the manifestation of Astrum’s will, and I won’t argue with it. It breaks my heart, but I know that you will prove yourself to be an important asset to this world. You have my blessing to go after him.”

  Dee could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her grandmother never bent to demands or negotiations, especially to matters that affected her as much as Dee’s staying or going. She had managed to get through to her grandmother, and she felt proud to have done so.

  “Thank you, Baba,” she said, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

  “What are you crying for, you foolish girl?” Baraluneska chided her. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted? You’re wasting time with those tears.”

  Dee wiped her eyes. “Sorry, Baba.” She stepped forward to Baraluneska, reaching over the table and embracing the seated woman. “I promise I’ll be safe, and I’ll always keep you in my heart.”

  Baraluneska returned the hug, pulling Dee in and holding her tight. “You had better.” She released Dee and reached over to the chair beside her. “I have some things for you to take with you.” She pulled out a long object wrapped in cloth. “This is one of the Legend’s swords. It was found among the bodies, still gripped in what I can only imagine was his hand. I would think with his healing abilities that it grew back, so I wouldn’t be too concerned.”

  Dee took the sword with both hands; it felt heavy. “There was this as well, also found on the severed hand.” Baraluneska pulled out the bracelet that had hung around Adam’s left wrist, still carrying the white stone marked with the character meaning “serenity.” Dee was amazed it had stayed intact. “I don’t know what it means, but I imagine it has some significance to him.”

  “Thank you, Baba,” said Dee. “I’m sure he’ll want to have these back.” She stepped back from the table and sighed. “I need to get going. If I hurry down the mountain I can get to the ferry that runs into Gravell by nightfall and get there in a day. Greg can’t be moving much faster, so I shouldn’t miss him if he’s going to Khanka.” She paused. “Thank you for everything, Baba. I promise I’ll be okay.”

  She turned to leave, but stopped one last time. There was one thing she had yet to do before she left, something she had debated on doing at all. If she was going to leave for another undetermined period of time, she decided she would have to ask, lest Taman’s final words to her bother her forever more. Dee turned to her grandmother, seeing that the old woman had already risen.

  “Diatyallah, you have something more to ask. It is only right that I bring it up first. There is something you need to know before you go. I am certain you know what I have to tell you.”

  Dee reached for the blue gem hanging around her neck. “My master. Why did he really leave Erebia Village four years ago?”

  Baraluneska’s face was grim and washed with guilt. “I’m so sorry, Diatyallah. I’ve kept a terrible truth from you. We all have. I’ve wronged you and altered the course of your life, and I can never change that. It may be four years too late, but I can at least tell you the truth now. Have a seat, child. You will not receive this news well.”

  Dee set her things down and chose to sit cross-legged on the floor. Baraluneska strained to join her there, and began to explain everything from the beginning.

  Chapter 19

  Numb

  Smog sputtered out of the tailpipes of the automobiles that crawled through the streets of Khanka, adding to the already poor air quality of the industrial city. Despite the incredible innovation of the nation’s technology, almost no effort had been put into developing environmental safeguards and as a result the city of Khanka had become a foul smelling and dirty image of what it was when Adam left it. The sky hung above was trapped in perpetual state of being overcast by dark clouds saturated with soot that floated up from the factories and was carried out across the country and eventually to sea by the wind, only to be replenished from the endless sources of pollution.

  It was a miserable, dank, dreary place to be, and Adam felt himself suffocating slowly as he wandered through the streets. He moved at a snail’s pace, listless and aimless as he explored the place he once called home, a place he no longer recognized. After leaving Erebia Village, he had decided it was best to conceal his identity by wearing a hooded cloak over his blood-stained jacket and hiding his head from the public eyes that might still recognize him. It was the one decision he’d made of sound mind since leaving Erebia.

  As he paced around Khanka, and all while he travelled down the mountain and on the ferry into the city, Adam could not clear his mind from the memories of the incident two nights before. Each time he blinked, he saw one of his comrades get cut apart by his sword. The sound of gunfire still echoed in his mind, reinforced by the backfiring mufflers of the cars that drove past him. He was still numb, unable to focus on anything but the victims he once called friends, the sounds of their screams in the quiet night air.
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  He stopped, finding himself unable to move forward even one step farther. He knew he had to keep moving. People were counting on him to save them. He needed to free Magid from Oracle, even if the people didn’t want him back. He needed to make amends for drawing the Khazaki to Erebia Village and allowing innocent mages to die. If he stopped now, Oracle would continue to get its way and he would be turning his back on all the people he wanted to help. Everyone who believed in him would be let down. All these things he thought to keep himself going, but the unwavering cycle of self-loathing invariably forced out all positive reinforcement and he remained at a standstill.

  Every part of him wanted to just stop. He didn’t even have the energy to turn around and go back. He wanted to just drop where he was and let that be the end of it. Of course, that wouldn’t be the end of it. Even if he just dropped to the ground, abandoned all hope and gave up, his body would still keep going. He would grow weak and miserable, but still living to forever bear his guilt. It was a fate he was beginning to fear more than death.

  Adam struggled and with all of his energy took a step forward, followed by another. He didn’t want to go on; he didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he would rather continue forward and face what trials still lay ahead than to wither away and dwell in the darkness that surrounded him. He carried on, with no intent left other than to just keep going, in hopes that somehow, someway, he might find a chance to save the people who were counting on him, and to save himself.

  He kicked a rock in his path, watching it tumble down the sidewalk until it rolled to a stop in front of an iron gate. Adam carried on with his dismal march until he reached the rock. Rather than kick it again, he stopped in his place and allowed his eyes to crawl up the gate from bottom to top. He turned his head to peer through, shambling over to the gate and gripping one of the bars in his hand. The gate gave way to a dirt courtyard in front of a secure three story building with empty windows. The drab gray color of the walls blended the structure in with the rest of the sickly city. The only flash of color on the premises was a bright blue flag that hung above the main door, still in the cold, breezeless air.

  Adam stood in front of the gate for a long time. People passing on the sidewalk paid him no mind; he was probably just another street beggar who wasn’t worthy of their time. Someone like him was better left ignored, and so Adam was as he stood still with his eyes fixed firmly on the headquarters of the Khanka Sword Corps, the Khazaki, who would not be returning to fill the building with the sounds of celebrations, the grunts and shouts that came with sword practice, or quiet conversations in downtime.

  With a slow, careful motion, he moved his hand to the locked gate and pressed his open palm against it. He had surrendered his key years ago, but his mastery over metal extended to the tumblers inside the lock. A quick wave of his hand shifted them into position and the lock unfastened itself, allowing Adam to push the gate open just enough for him to slip through. None of the people on the street seemed to notice or care all that much. Adam took advantage of the indifference of the passersby and moved into the courtyard for the first time in over three years.

  The grounds were in a sad shape, but they had already been deteriorated when Adam left the group. Forty years earlier there were still a few spare lots of grass left in the growing metropolis, but in modern times that land had either been paved, tread upon too much, or was polluted to the point where life could not keep going. The courtyard had been worn down as the swordsmen practiced and exercised in front of their headquarters when the weather permitted it. All that was left was dry, loose dirt that Adam kicked up as he approached the main entrance of the headquarters.

  He forced open the door using the same tactic that had gotten him through the iron gate, stepping into the grand entryway of the headquarters. Adam paused in awe, looking around to see that nothing had changed since he had left. Upon entering, there was a long and wide room with polished wooden floors. This was where the Khazaki spent much of their time training, and also where they gathered to discuss plans before going out on patrol or to a raid. There was a platform at the far end of the room where the commander stood, his lieutenant at his side, to address the assembly.

  To the right was an adjoining room two-thirds the length of the practice hall where the men took their meals and spent time relaxing. There was a kitchen next to it, joined by a window in the wall where food was served from. Adam walked to the kitchen door and looked inside, finding the old stove right where he remembered it, along with an array of pots and pans hanging above. When he was not too busy, he had offered to cook for his men, something that everyone looked forward too. He had no idea who had replaced him, but whoever it was had left a pile of dishes in the sink to be done upon his return from the group’s ill-fated mission.

  Adam frowned, but this turned into a scowl as he decided how irresponsible it was to leave behind dishes. He undid the fasteners of his cloak, taking it off and tossing it aside. He did the same with his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, going over to the sink and turning on the hot water. The water rushed out over his hand as he held it below the faucet, starting off cold and building up to scalding hot. He kept his hand there as steam filled the sink and his skin turned red. At last he pulled it away, letting the sting sink into his skin before grabbing a scouring pad and the first of many pans.

  Mr. White was beaming as he stepped out of his bedroom in the hotel suite to join the others sitting around the breakfast table. He sat down opposite the Creator, placing the skull beside him before unfolding his napkin and laying it in his lap. The Creator scowled, trying to avoid looking at the skull that stared back at him with empty eyes. The other one at the table, the tall brunette woman with the long red jacket who was among the Oracle agents at the palace invasion, stood up and got the pot of coffee that had been brewed in the kitchen. She brought it back and filled Mr. White’s cup without saying a word and then took her seat back. She had been sitting in silence with the Creator, and although he knew the woman was capable of talking, neither of the two of them had a real reason to speak with each other.

  “Thank you, Evangeline,” said Mr. White, taking the cup to his lips and enjoying a long sip. “What a fine, rich flavor. Can’t I tempt you with some, Daniel?”

  “No, thank you,” the Creator replied. Since beginning his involuntary partnership with Mr. White, he had refused any offering, suggestion, or act of cooperation. He could see through Mr. White’s attempts to patronize him further by strengthening the illusion that the two were on allied terms. Despite Mr. White’s false cordialness, the Creator would not forget that he was dealing with a demented monster of a man who was capable of just about anything at this point.

  “Your loss,” said Mr. White, placing the cup back on its accompanying plate. “But I suppose you’d want to keep yourself free of unwanted chemicals, especially before your big speech today.”

  The Creator didn’t say anything. Mr. White reached for an apple in the basket at the center of the table. “You don’t get stage fright, do you? I wouldn’t imagine, what with all the times you’ve gotten up in front of people while they praised your glory and bowed down before you. You must be so used to it by now, what’s to be nervous about?” He took a bite of the apple, chuckling as he did.

  “I don’t enjoy going before my people and lying to them about those who are important to me,” the Creator replied.

  “Isn’t that just the silliest thing to say, Daniel?” Mr. White said. “Don’t you agree, Evangeline?”

  “I suppose,” she said, paying more attention to the puzzles in the daily newspaper that she had been working through.

  “Come now, Evangeline, show a little more spirit than that,” said Mr. White. “You’re starting to sound like our dearest Miko.” He bit into his apple again and returned his attention to the Creator. “Anyway, it’s funny. You go before these people every day, and you lie to them. Even when you’re just being nice, doing something to help people, you’re perpetuating the bi
ggest lie that has ever been told in the history of this universe. But you don’t feel bad about it, or else you would have stopped years ago. You wouldn’t be so afraid to give all this up that you’re willing to let me tell you what to do. And really, if those two were important to you, would you be putting them both through hell just to save yourself?”

  “I have my reasons,” the Creator said.

  “I’m sure you do, and I hope for your sake that they’re damn good ones. Otherwise there’s going to be a lot of pain and suffering caused for nothing, and whoever’s left once my plan has concluded is going to have to pick up the pieces.”

  “Any pain and suffering that comes about from all of this will be because of you, not me.”

  “Whatever helps you sleep, Daniel,” said Mr. White. He finished his apple and wiped the juices from his mouth before reaching for his cup of coffee. “I’ll tell you something, though: I sleep like a baby.”

  “That’s because you’re a psychopath who lacks empathy and compassion,” the Creator retorted.

  Mr. White put his hand over his heart and widened his eyes with a short laugh. “Daniel, you wound me! And here I thought you and I were finally starting to warm up to each other.” He brought his cup to his mouth and savored another long sip.

  “You’re deluded as well,” the Creator added.

  “Daniel, Daniel, the sooner you accept how similar you and I are, the easier the rest of this operation is going to be for you.” He set his cup down and placed his hand on the skull, caressing the rough bone and tracing the cracks along the top. “I get what I want, and you get what you want, and we can both go back to being happy. Frankly, I don’t know why you’re being so resistive to me.”