Suture (The Bleeding Worlds)

by Stone, Justus R.

  "Bleed throughs. Just as Mr. Takeda suggested. Parts of ended worlds, finding a place to exist in other worlds. No reason or purpose to it, just a haphazard bridge between realities," Woten said.

  "So I was right, the inside of that building was—"

  "A pocket. A piece of some other universe preserved. When you took that poor bastard out the door, it ripped him from his own universe into ours."

  "Which is why he changed?"

  Woten nodded. "Our abilities keep us from the full harm, but you must ensure your team never removes the tethers Mr. Takeda's research team provide you with. These places are like a crossroads, if any of them remove their tethers and leave, they could end up…well, they could end up anywhere."

  "So the condition of the building was due to something occurring in his own world," Njord said.

  "I can only imagine what kind of horrors consumed his world and would make him live that way. Such places, well…"

  "I know," Njord replied. "So we will be setting up a briefing after breakfast?"

  "Yes."

  Njord stood to leave.

  "Oh, Njord. There is one more thing. Angie will be staying here and you will have a, what shall I call her, exchange student, in Angie's place." Woten separated a folder from the stack on his desk and slid it across to Njord. "This is her dossier. Her record is impressive. One I'd like to snag away from that old, womanizing ass."

  Njord lifted the dossier and opened to the first page. "Fine, yes, I'm sure she'll work out. But you said we needed to keep Angie close to Gwynn. Allowing his subconscious to go unguarded might allow the Catalyst to find him."

  "She has performed her job admirably. I spoke to her after you returned. The strain this is putting on her is obvious. She needs a rest. Mr. Takeda assures me the distortions in the Veil where you're going will be more than sufficient to mask Gwynn's presence. Angie has a wonderful gift we can't afford to have burn out."

  "What if these distortions fail to hide Gwynn?"

  "I am taking other steps to ensure his safety."

  "How?" Njord asked.

  "Let us say this current mission offers an opportunity. I intend to take advantage of it."

  §

  Fuyuko found Gwynn sitting in the cafeteria pushing scrambled eggs around on his plate.

  "Did you get back to sleep?" she asked.

  One look at his eyes and she knew the answer. His gaze fell from hers and scrutinized something across the room. She followed his line of sight. She sat down at the table and leaned forward. In a conspiratorial whisper she said, "Angie's a pretty girl. I approve of your taste."

  Red flooded his cheeks. "It's not like that," he stammered. "I just…my dream last night. She was…"

  "She was in your dream?" Fuyuko was a good girl. An honourable girl. That didn't mean she hadn't peaked at her father's notes on the other members of Ansuz. She knew something about Angie's abilities. "So…" She gave him a wink. "What kind of dream was it?"

  He sputtered. "It wasn't anything like that. Besides, you know it wasn't a good dream."

  "All I know is you needed a shower afterwards," she laughed.

  "I. No, I mean. I…" He started to laugh too.

  Jason set his tray down on the table. "Am I missing something good?"

  Gwynn went pale.

  "No," Fuyuko said. "It was nothing important. Just joking about how we both need more sleep."

  Jason looked between them. "Well, you don't look too bad Fuyuko. But Gwynn, you do kinda look like crap."

  "Thanks. You're just saying that cause you like her better."

  Jason planted a quick kiss on Fuyuko's cheek. "Yeah, you're probably right. Can you blame me?"

  "Oh don't worry about it," Fuyuko said. "Gwynn's got his eye on someone else right now."

  "Really? Spill it."

  Gwynn shot a death glare at Fuyuko. For eight months she'd been fighting against feelings of inadequacy and weakness. Wandering the halls of Suture, she wondered if she belonged anymore. Sitting with these two boys, sparring with them and poking fun in all the right places, it felt as close to her old life as she had found.

  "He had a dream about Angie last night." Gwynn looked pissed. She loved it. She toyed with the idea of relaying how he'd required a shower afterward, but figured it would be going too far. Jason, however, spoiled any further fun.

  "Have you ever had a dream about her before?" His tone was far too serious. A little too late, it dawned on Fuyuko Jason had spent years with Angie through training and various team assignments. He would have to know about her as well.

  "Only last night," Gwynn said. "Odd thing is, I can't remember a single dream since I got here."

  Jason cast a sideways glance at Fuyuko. It asked, Do you know why that's important?

  She gave a slight nod, hoping the teasing Gwynn had endured would leave him flustered and not notice.

  Gwynn dropped his fork to his plate, finally accepting he wouldn't be eating anything more.

  "I'm going to head back to my room and try to rest before our scheduled debriefing."

  "C'mon, Gwynn, we were just playing around." Jason seemed to be making an effort to lighten his voice. "You don't need to bolt. Besides, even if you really did have a thing for Angie, it's not shocking. I think most guys in Suture have at one point or another."

  "Really?" Fuyuko asked. "Including you?"

  Jason began to stammer.

  "I'm out of here before you two have a full on domestic." Gwynn laughed. "See you later."

  Fuyuko stopped chastising Jason and watched Gwynn leave.

  "Geez," Jason said. "The way you're watching him go, maybe I'm the one who should be jealous."

  "It's not like that, and you know it." She punched him lightly on the arm. "Sometimes, seeing him here, especially when he seems lost like he was in Brantfield…it feels odd, like what happened was just a day or two ago. It also seems like a different life." Her voice shrank. "A different me."

  Jason let his hand rest on her wrist.

  "You'll be fine. You've come a long way. I'm sure you'll be in ready condition within another month, tops." When he saw her expression he quickly added, "Probably sooner."

  She pushed the tray aside, no longer hungry, folded her arms, and rested her head on them.

  "You'll be sent out on another mission before I'm ready. Maybe even a long term mission. The last few were so hard. I don't know how many more times I can bear watching you go. Especially if it's more than a few days."

  His eyes hardened. He went still for a moment, the way he always did when he weighed his words. He didn't need to answer, they both knew what she said was true. The world had changed. It seemed the pressure of the world killing tear had caused numerous cracks in the Veil throughout the world. Every division of Suture was running on high alert. Ansuz had only done shorter missions while they trained Gwynn and learned to mesh with Njord as the new commanding officer.

  "We have a new mission briefing after breakfast," he said, averting his eyes.

  Fuyuko sat upright—a little too fast, her head spinning. "You just got back. I thought Gwynn said you were having your debriefing this morning."

  He shook his head. "We were, initially. Njord messaged me this morning, told me to prepare for the team's reaction. Seems there's something big going on that won't wait."

  Her heart fell into her stomach. From the start, they knew there was never a guarantee of coming back from any mission. But when they went together, there was some security they could watch each other's backs. In bad situations, they synced together. It was why everyone knew they had something before they could admit it to themselves. Every time he left alone, Fuyuko wad filled with dread.

  "Refuse to go." The words were barely a whisper.

  Jason's eyes widened. This time, his lack of movement was entirely from shock. Yes, she had changed. She guessed he saw that now. Before, the Fuyuko she used to be, would've never suggested such defiance. Perhaps that was the part of her soul Elaios had shattered. M
aybe because she hadn't been able to feel the Veil, somehow blindly following orders just didn't seem important anymore. Finding someone to love, a life with routine and joy, seemed the only goal worth pursuing. Funny, she'd snapped at Gwynn just a few weeks ago for suggesting the same thing.

  "I can't do that."

  "You sound like my brother." She even managed to burn herself with the venom in her words.

  Jason sighed—his shoulders trembling like they bore a considerable weight. "You shouldn't throw Katsuro's reputation around. He was one of the best of us. There's no shortage of people in this room who owe their lives to the things he did alive, and to the sacrifice he made in death."

  "You think I don't know?" Maybe if she'd been stronger, she would be yelling. Instead, it came out as a harsh whisper. "You think I don't lay awake in the middle of the night thinking how disappointed he would be in me? Even before this happened, I couldn't live up to him. And now…"

  The tears fell heavily. She stood, too fast, and steadied herself on the table. Jason rose, his hands out to support her, but she batted them aside.

  "Sorry," she sniffled, but she was just saying it because she thought she should. In her heart, she didn't feel sorry. Everything she'd said was true. "Maybe I'm pushing myself too hard. I… I have to go."

  She rushed from the cafeteria as fast as her shaking legs would carry her.

  She allowed herself only fifteen minutes to cry in her room. She hated herself for it.

  Fuyuko just couldn't reconcile this emotionally and physically weakened creature with the vision of herself she had held for seventeen years. When Katsuro awakened as a Script, her parents had been very proud. They watched and waited for Fuyuko's awakening. Oddly, neither of her parents were Anunnakis, yet they just assumed after their son awakened as one their daughter would as well. When her time came, she was only a Fragment. Yes, she felt angry and disappointed. But she also saw it as an opportunity. If Katsuro succeeded and became strong, people wouldn't be surprised. He was a Script, strength was a given. If she could be just as strong, maybe even stronger, people would say it was because of her own spirit. She never said this to anyone, but Katsuro knew. Even though they were five years apart in age, they shared a bond that surpassed all barriers and secrets. It was wonderful and maddening all at the same time.

  Now he was dead, and losing him had felt as bad as having a piece of her own soul shattered. She knew that for certain. Now everything had changed. Her connection to the Veil had been severed. Her skin still bore runes, so she guessed somewhere inside she was still an Anunnaki, but that part of her remained out of reach. The weakness and sense of being small which had afflicted her only periodically now hung over her like a constant shroud. She had known the feeling of touching the divine and the limitless side of her. Now she wondered if she would ever capture that feeling again.

  Changing into a loose fitting white shirt and pant set, she made her way to the small room where most of her recovery had been taking place.

  With Prometheus rings and Ambrosia rings and thousands of years worth of knowledge, she thought the process of fixing her fractured soul would be simple. Perhaps a quick blast from the Ambrosia ring, or maybe some magic potion the Greeks, Norse, or maybe even Egyptians, had developed centuries ago, would restore her spirit. But no, simple solutions rarely existed, if they existed at all.

  As it turned out, fixing your soul was more like therapy for an emotional disorder. Hours of talking, meditating, and a few mood stabilizing drugs to take the edge off. No one promised it would be simple. They sure didn't promise it would be quick. Even though Jason made it sound like he thought her progress was faster than anticipated—she should really apologize to him—it wasn't fast enough. Some of the competitive Fuyuko still lived in her. If it took a Script a year to recover she would do it in less. Whatever it took.

  She entered the room known officially as The Therapy Room. Over the past few weeks she'd named it several other, less mentionable, names. Most often, she called it 'Waste of Time.'

  The walls were painted with earth tones—not too dark though, wouldn't want to promote feelings of depression.

  In the center of the room, Eir sat cross-legged on some cushions. She wore a similar loose-fitting white outfit as Fuyuko, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders and down to the center of her back.

  "I was starting to think I would have to come looking for you," Eir said.

  Fuyuko gave a slight bow. "No, I just had to…take some time to collect myself."

  Eir raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't address it further.

  "Sit," she said with an outstretched hand indicating the other large cushion on the floor.

  Fuyuko didn't really want to sit. She didn't want to be in the room. But she was and she did. Her hypocrisy stung. Only a short time before she was encouraging Jason to refuse orders, yet she couldn't refuse the simple offer of 'sit.' Perhaps she hadn't changed as much as she thought.

  "Close your eyes," Eir instructed. "Now banish all other thoughts from your mind. I want your focus to lie entirely within your own body. You are an Anunnaki. Nothing can take that away from you. The damage is in the energies within your body. Follow the flow, find where the blockage lies, and destroy it."

  This was nothing new. Every session they'd had over the past couple months had started with this speech. The words crawled under Fuyuko's skin like an itch she could never scratch. All she saw behind her closed eyes was darkness. Within that dark, she pressed against a wall that used to flex and give under the force of her will. Now, her mental fists only came away bloodied.

  "Arrrgh! I can't." Moisture beaded on her forehead. "It won't give."

  "Perhaps if I assisted you," Eir said.

  Fuyuko opened her eyes and looked into Eir's. How many times had they tried and failed in the past eight months?

  "I appreciate you being so patient with me," Fuyuko said. "But is this ever going to make a difference? I don't feel like we've made any progress. If anything…it feels further away."

  Eir reached forward, resting her hand on Fuyuko's shoulder. Warmth radiated from the spot, spreading into Fuyuko's collarbone, down into her chest, soothing her fluttering lungs.

  "Sometimes a journey is so long, even a step forward feels like no progress at all. We keep going. Failure only happens when you decide to quit."

  Fuyuko shifted away from Eir, standing and setting into a pace about the room. She raked her fingers through her hair and bit hard on her lip.

  "You know, for the first year he was gone, I missed my brother every day."

  "We all mourn your brother." Eir's eyes spoke sincerity. "He was the pride of this place. Many songs would've been sung of his exploits had he lived a few more years."

  Fuyuko's hands dropped and her shoulders sagged. "The worst part of this. Well, maybe not the worst, but an awful part of this—I'm glad he's not here to see me like this. I couldn't bear to be so weak in front of him."

  Eir stood and pulled Fuyuko into an embrace. The warmth she felt from Eir's single hand couldn't compare to the burst of soothing heat exploding through her. She sagged against Eir, who held her weight with little effort.

  "Guilt won't help with your recovery." Eir's words sounded like a lullaby. "You shared a special connection with your brother which didn't rely on pride or power. We've talked about your negative feelings toward yourself and how they slow your recovery. Don't create new guilt to further impede yourself. Your brother wouldn't have wished that for you."

  Eir guided them down to the floor. Fuyuko remained against her, wishing for nothing more than to sleep in that warmth.

  "I don't even know how he died," Fuyuko whispered—just as much to herself as Eir.

  Eir stroked her hand through Fuyuko's hair. "He fell in battle, like too many of our beloved friends and family."

  "I know. But I don't know anything about the actual details. I didn't join Ansuz until afterwards."

  "You never asked?"

  Fuyuko shook h
er head. "They didn't seem to want to talk about it. They appeared as upset as I was. I couldn't drag that pain up."

  Eir hesitated. Even the warmth seemed to diminish slightly.

  "Do you think it would help?" Eir finally asked.

  "With my powers? I doubt it."

  Eir gently pushed herself away so she could look Fuyuko in the eye. Separated from the embrace, Fuyuko suddenly felt ashamed at how she had clung on. Was this weakness? If it was, could she allow herself to experience it?

  "I agree, it won't solve the issue with your powers. Maybe knowing specifics about how Katsuro died isn't such a good thing either. Perhaps viewing some mission data, seeing him alive and strong, might make you feel better. Perhaps you have mementoes that will remind you of his love for you. What I'm saying is, you feel so much conflict within your heart, and your brother is part of it. Find a way to deal with those feelings. It might not revive your powers, but it might give you peace of mind. That will put you many steps toward recovery."

  4

  Conversing with Gods

  The mission briefing room lay several floors below the living quarters. Twenty chairs with affixed desks were set in four rows, each row raised above the one in front of it. A large screen occupied the better part of the wall which the desks faced.

  Jason sat alone. He always seemed to be the first to these meetings. His leg absent-mindedly bounced and he tapped a rhythmless beat on the desk with his thumb. The others were going to be pissed when they heard this wasn't just a debriefing. Which meant since the others were too afraid to say anything to the command structure, he, as de facto team leader, would swallow the most crap for it.

  "My job sucks," he groaned, grabbed a handful of his black hair, gave it a merciless tug, and closed his brown eyes to the room.

  After a few sighing breaths, he opened his eyes, pulled a tablet from his bag, and navigated to connect to the room's secured network. The briefing room server was kept separate from the general Suture network so no one other than the team assigned a mission knew its details until after the mission's completion. Every time he logged onto the briefing room server it reminded him his life, and those of his friends, lay in constant danger. If Suture couldn't trust the people within its own walls, what did that say about people outside?