Gremlins are Malfunctioning

by Susan Lain

  "He's toxic," Alek warned everyone with a sharp holler. "Back up to the tree line."

  Folks hurried to the edge of the garden, and in the nick of time too.

  Dark, rosy vapors surrounded the tar titan like a shadowy cloak. Eliot watched in horror as the grass underneath it turned black, withering and rotting in the blink of an eye. Would that be the fate of the whole world?

  The creature appeared fluid. He didn't drip or ooze, but his shape modulated between a tall man-like being and a barbed ball of thick, viscous liquid. If he had eyes, ears, or appendages, Eliot couldn't make them out. The murky haze around him obfuscated whatever solid or definite that might be there.

  Regardless, the entity was smaller than Eliot had expected. From the word—'titan'—he had assumed a gigantic being. But the term 'tar titan' had been created by a human, so…

  Clearly, it was still enough to have Alek on edge. He grabbed Eliot's arm and pulled. "Time to go," he growled between gritted teeth.

  "Shiloh, please help us," Eliot called out to the girl even as Alek dragged him away. "Tell him we can do better. That we can make the world better for both our species. We can work at that together."

  Eliot didn't try to dislodge Alek's hold on him. What would be the point? None of them could communicate with Crimson the way Shiloh did, let alone remain in his presence for longer than a minute or two. Hopefully Shiloh really was immune to the crimson plague, or her rendezvous with her fatherly mentor would be short-lived.

  "That was smart and innovative," Alek praised Eliot quietly as they joined the others in the woods. "Didn't even occur to me that energy could be interpreted that way."

  "That's why the mythkin need humans," Eliot remarked absentmindedly, refusing to take his eyes off the effigy mound where a tar titan and a girl artist stood close together. "MERF and you assumed the mythkin consume something in the other phase in addition to the toxic fumes, but I think they've become a part of us. They don't feed of our emotional energy as much as linking with us in an inextricable, mystical way. We belong together. It's already too late to go back in time and separate our species."

  "Then the only way this can end is for Crimson to destroy us—and his own kind as well," Alek mused, visibly grim and upset, his features hard and relentless.

  Eliot took Alek's hand in his own and squeezed gently. "Not if Crimson forgives us."

  Alek gave him an incredulous look. Then a short lopsided smile made an appearance. "If there's something you've taught me, it's that anything is possible. Funny, but as a scientist I should have known that."

  Eliot smiled back, warmth spreading from his heart to his whole being. "You did know that, I think, in your head. It was your heart that needed to learn that."

  Alek stared at Eliot, revealing nothing. Then he dipped down, captured Eliot's mouth in a heated kiss, and whispered, "If we must die, I don't mind going with your taste on my lips."

  Eliot kissed Alek back, peppering him with sweet smooches, cupping one cheek with his palm. "The world may not be filled with love, but I'm glad we have this moment to ourselves."

  Both silent again, they embraced and didn't let go.

  "Wish you'd had a chance to sample my coffee," Juan was saying to Anna; Eliot heard the smile in his voice. "I think a lady like you would appreciate the flavor."

  Anna chuckled. "Are you seriously hitting on me when the world's about to implode?"

  "I'd ask you out on a date in a heartbeat," Juan remarked with a low, smooth tone. "What say you, Ms. Ueda? I know a great Mexican restaurant."

  "What if I'd prefer Japanese?"

  "Oh, you'd fall in love with these churros, I assure you."

  Eliot listened to the flirtation with a grin, holding Alek tight.

  "You're that rock star," noted Oliver with curiosity.

  Berry Bomb harrumphed, hands crossed. "Punk rock star, kid. Get that right at least."

  Oliver snickered. "So, Mister Punk Rock dude…could you hook me up with some concert tickets or back stage passes?"

  Berry Bomb laughed out loud. "You've got balls of steel, kid. And no. You can buy them online same as everyone else."

  "Then how about an autograph?" Eliot heard rustling, perhaps from a scrap of paper Oliver fished out of his pocket. "Or has the impending apocalypse handicapped your poor little fingers?"

  Eliot suppressed a chuckle at Oliver's gall and baby lisp. Even Berry Bomb cackled at the bold move.

  He didn't focus on any particular conversation. A middle-aged couple shared baby photos from their wallets and phones, another two talked about vacations in the Caribbean and Europe, and an old man quietly hummed Louis Armstrong's What A Wonderful World.

  Eliot sighed. So many dreams would be buried today. Lives unlived, new and old alike. It sucked.

  Alek bussed a kiss over the top of his head, mussing up Eliot's hair. Even if this was an illusion of love—they had only known each other for such a short time—the emotion wrapped itself around Eliot's spirit and body both, warmth encapsulating him in hope and aspirations.

  When it came to endings, this wasn't as bad as it could be. It was too soon, yes, but not too terrible beyond that.

  "You humans surprise me. You show positivity, humor, and vibrancy in the face of certain death. That is commendable."

  Eliot started at the sound of Shiloh's voice—only it wasn't hers. The inky, amorphous entity hovered on the effigy mound behind her, seemingly not having moved an inch closer to them. Yet it had to be his voice that came from Shiloh's mouth.

  "Crimson?" Eliot asked uncertainly, pulling away from Alek who remained close, his arm touching Eliot's, as if comforting him through osmosis or magic.

  "Our kin run amok here and there, nervous balls of energy." Shiloh's big eyes glowed like luminous lagoons. "We prefer to lay dormant, listening to the whispers between worlds. Then a crack awoke us. We were blinded by light and deafened by noise, forced into a strange world by the grip of greedy manmade machines. We were flooded with human feelings so dark, cold, and devastating that we could scarcely believe it."

  "We're sorry you had to go through that," Eliot murmured, not wanting to interrupt but he had to. "Many people tried to stop it from happening. The drilling, I mean."

  Shiloh's gaze swept over Eliot, Alek, and the others, but appeared so glassy that Eliot had to wonder what, if anything, she was seeing. "We are all energy. Our bodies, our minds, our spirits, our emotions, our experiences. Everything flows and blends."

  Then she exhaled, closed her eyes and collapsed on the heap of dirt she'd stood on, at the edge of the effigy mound.

  The earth quaked as the grimy entity descended back into the ground until not a peek of it could be seen. The storm gales died down, silence reigned where thunder had roared, stars twinkled above where nebulous clouds had covered them, and trees and bushes swayed gently in place where they had cried out mere moments before.

  Eliot drew in a long breath and then released it, seeking inner serenity. He heard similar sighs of relief from the others, including Alek.

  Inside their heads, however, they all heard Crimson's voice, a boom of great power. "Prove me right for letting you live."

  For a while no one spoke. The effigy mound was still as a grave again. No movements or sounds emerged. The tenebrous figure was gone.

  It was Oliver who whooped incredibly loud, making everyone jump, as he raised his hands up to the skies and screamed, "We fucking saved the world! We're superheroes!"

  Berry Bomb rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Man, I need a drink."

  The others chimed in, and a peaceful parade of positive people headed back indoors to the mansion. Eliot heard snippets of conversation that evaporated what was left of his concerns.

  "Grassroots environmental work is a good place to start," Juan was saying as he walked.

  At his side Anna was nodding too. "We need global government action too."

  "I can make noise in the entertainment business…" Berry Bomb remarked. His voice faded as the
group got too far from Eliot for him to make out what was being said.

  Eliot smiled. Everyone seemed intent on contributing in saving the world. That made him happy.

  Alek hurried to the unconscious girl on the mound, picked her up in his arms, and carried her inside. "Eliot, call an ambulance. Shiloh should be checked out."

  As relieved as Eliot was, the time for relaxation—and maybe a pay raise—wasn't yet upon him. He fished out his cell phone and dialed 911 as he trailed inside after Alek, reminding himself every step of the way that the world and humanity were indeed safe—for now.

  Proving their good intentions and beneficial outcomes to Crimson would have to be top priority from now on. It was a saving grace that mythkin seemed to like humans and had chosen to help them battle Crimson.

  They had achieved rapprochement. Eliot smiled wide, having high hopes for the future. His stride grew lighter with each heartbeat.

  Epilogue

  Two weeks later

  Time seemed to pass slow without Eliot getting a single sign of life from Alek.

  In Eliot's personal and professional life, nothing had changed at all. He worked at CEPA every day, listening to customers about their issues, solving their problems, and indicating methods with which they could help in the global initiative to save the planet.

  After each workday, Eliot walked home with takeout, alone and miserable. He missed sex. He missed domination and submission. He missed Alek.

  Eliot couldn't fathom why Alek seemed to have cut ties with him. Alek was nowhere to be seen. Eliot had heard not a peep from the gruff agent. Had Eliot done something wrong? He was under the impression they had left the Arrington estate as a fledgling couple.

  With a sigh, Eliot trudged on. All he had were unanswered questions.

  It was a Friday. First snow blanketed the ground in a thin white veil, like a death shroud. Pure white turned everything dreamlike. Rags of white-gray clouds masked the sun shining with a cold light, the air crisp and fresh. Frost nipped at Eliot's cheeks and the tip of his nose as he walked up the stairs to his building, shivering in the wintry cold.

  "Eliot?"

  Turning on his heels, Eliot came face to face with a smiling Shiloh who waved at him. "It is wonderful to see you again," she said, closing the gap between them and giving him a warm hug.

  Eliot smiled, pleased at the reprieve to his solitude. "You too. You look great." She twirled around in an evergreen-colored woolly winter dress, beaming at the compliment. "Do you want to come inside for a cup of coffee?"

  "Sorry, I can't." Shiloh sighed. "I have a meeting at the White House."

  Eliot laughed. "This may be D.C. but not everyone gets to say that, you know."

  Shiloh chuckled, looking so young and joyous that Eliot was happy for her. "True." She waved about indistinctly. "The president organized us sixth sense folk into an advisory board for all matters pertaining to the mythkin. We're like a special taskforce."

  The mere hint of Alek made Eliot swallow hard, his heart hurting. But he made an effort to keep smiling. "How's that going?"

  Shiloh shook her head fiercely. "Convincing the government and the global community of a very real threat hasn't gone over smoothly, if that's what you mean. Mythkin have done their part by ending the need for mining and by cleaning the climate. The rest—stopping erosion, clearing up the oceans of plastic waste, replanting forests, saving animals, ensuring biodiversity, all that jazz—it's up to us. Persuading everyone to take part has been…a logistical nightmare."

  Eliot nodded. He understood. It was easier to move an individual than the larger populace. Accountability was a word that seemed alien to some people.

  Shiloh smiled. "At least there's a consensus that the mythkin are a sentient and maybe even an intelligent species. There is progress in how they're being treated, so that's good." Her smile faded. "Leslie was under Crimson's influence when he…murdered my father. It was very much my fault; I helped it happen. Thankfully he's been pardoned."

  Eliot wasn't sure how he felt about the news. On the one hand, Leslie had been brainwashed into an act of homicide by an alien entity. On the other hand, Leslie had been prepared—on his own—to murder Shiloh in retaliation if Alek and Eliot hadn't intervened. Did that make him innocent or guilty? Eliot couldn't say. He was glad he didn't have to decide Leslie's fate.

  "How is Crimson?" Eliot asked, veering away from the topic of Leslie. As for Crimson, the creature had been taught violence by mankind, so perhaps it made sense he'd use one to commit murder. Did human laws even apply to a being as ancient and alien as Crimson? Probably not.

  As a sidebar, Eliot couldn't help but feel like an outsider. He wasn't one of the sixth sense folk who could affect things directly, mediate between humans and mythkin. The only place Eliot had any clout in was CEPA. After what he'd seen, he wondered if he was doing any real good there.

  "The president decided to keep Crimson's identity and involvement a secret," Shiloh said, lowering her voice and bringing a finger up in front of her pursed lips. "It's all so very hush-hush. Classified at the highest levels." Then she was her old self, giggling and shrugging. "Silly if you ask me. Crimson wouldn't mind people knowing about him. He opts for openness and honesty. Always has."

  "Good for you." Eliot had high hopes that one day soon the rest of the populace would get to know about Crimson too and that it would all go well. The mythkin who forgave humanity. That was quite a life lesson. It would be wise of the government to reveal Crimson's existence and confirm for the whole world that the mythkin were sentient—and they didn't view humanity as their enemies. Shivering, Eliot started to feel frostbite more acutely and decided to wrap things up. "How's Viho?"

  "He's faring better." Shiloh appeared embarrassed, probably over the attack on her closest confidant. "He's forgiven me and still considers me a friend. I suppose that's a blessing."

  "He didn't seem the type to hold a grudge. Viho is indeed a great man." Eliot's fingers grew numb in the cold and he shifted weight in an effort to stay warm. "You sure you don't want to come up for a hot drink?"

  Shiloh's smile faded. "Speaking of hotness…you should go see Alek."

  A twinge of pain and resentment went through Eliot. "I doubt I'd be welcome. He hasn't tried to contact me."

  Shiloh bussed Eliot's cheek. "There's a reason for that. Please, Eliot. For his sake as well as yours, go see him. Today."

  Then she waved and dashed down the street like a fairytale sprite, vanishing fast.

  Eliot watched her go, ambivalent about her advice. Shiloh had sounded earnest. Her words suggested something was wrong. Despite his mixed feelings, Eliot had to make sure Alek was okay. It was the least he could do for his ex-companion.

  *~*~*

  Knocking on Alek's door had zero effect. No rustling of movement, no barks from dogs. Neither Alek nor his pups were home.

  Eliot worried his bottom lip, hesitant. Should he stay and wait? The hallway had a chair at the end, so that was fine. But would Alek be upset to see him there?

  The elevator pinged. Eliot straightened up for some reason in anticipation.

  Familiar yaps and woofs filled the air as six black puppies and a young woman exited the elevator. "Hush you," she scolded them but without any real force. She loved the little darlings as much as Eliot did. Then she noticed him standing by Alek's door. "Oh, hello."

  "Hannah Appleby?" Eliot shook her hand. "I'm Eliot Tate. I'm, uh, a friend of Alek's."

  She nodded with a smile. "Yes, I remember seeing you in the apartment." The pups tried to climb Eliot's legs. Hannah had to yank on the leashes to get them off. "Stop it, you rascals."

  Eliot chuckled. "I don't think they're listening." He crouched, opened his arms, and got a faceful of slobbering dog kisses. "Hi, little ones. I've missed you."

  "Alek not home yet?" Hannah asked, fishing for a key inside his coat pocket. "I'll let you and the pups in. Best not to stick around out here in the hallway all night."

  Eliot hedged. "Uh,
I'm not sure if—"

  "You look like someone I can trust," Hannah cut in, her sharp eyes aimed at him like laser beams. "Don't make me regret my decision."

  Eliot smiled and shook his head. "Thank you."

  "Good." Hannah unlocked the door. "I'm eager to get to this new dance class. We're doing a novel dance routine based on the movements of photon faeries, if you can believe it."

  Eliot's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "Wow. Sounds cool."

  The dogs ran inside as soon as Hannah popped their leashes off their collars. They were still barking up a storm. Eliot followed them, thanked her once more, then closed the door, and ambled in to make dinner for the pups—and Alek.

  An hour passed.

  Eliot watched the pups eat the food he had filled their bowls with and drink the water in the other bowls. Once their hunger had been sated, the dogs rushed to Eliot's lap as he sat on the couch. Waiting didn't feel so bad with an armful of puppies, all eager for a scratching.

  He listened to the radio where Berry Bomb's latest hit—Double or Nothing—showed the mythkin in a new light, the dual chords of the rainomalies mixing with a trip hop beat. The song was entrancing and eminently danceable, Eliot had to grudgingly admit. Plus, cultural phenomena advancing the mythkin cause had to be viewed as positive, with humanity starting to realize they weren't the only smart game in town anymore.

  Keys jingled in the lock. Finally the door opened. Eliot stood, his heart in his throat.

  Alek staggered over the threshold, looking like a shadow of his former self. He was haggard and forlorn, with dark circles around his eyes, his skin more gray than pale, weariness evident in each heavy breath and step.

  Eliot gasped at the sight even as puppies swarmed his feet.

  Alek started at the sound and looked up. He was surprised to see Eliot there if his widening eyes and shocked expression were anything to go by.

  Eliot's mind froze. He didn't know what to do. He followed his instincts—and knelt on the floor, his back ramrod straight, his submissive pose practiced and perfect. He'd wanted to get this right, planned it before making the decision to come here.