And Tapestry. She would mourn for him, sure. But she didn’t love him anymore, not how she once had. She was strong enough to keep moving forward and maybe even rescue Savior on her own. He’d fixed all but one of the solar panels. Surely that would be enough, if the ship only needed to use its electricity to support her.
“I did all that I could,” he muttered. “And I did a pretty damn good job.”
There was no response. Malcolm exhaled and was surprised when it came out shaky, verging on a sob. He’d never felt so alone before in his life. Even living in his hideout in the months after the collapse, scraping by on foraged food and fearing for his life, he’d at least occasionally been around other people.
Was this the fate he’d earned for himself? To drift through space, endlessly. To stare out the faceplate of his helmet at a planet a thousand times the size of Earth, knowing that it would be the last thing he’d ever see. He wouldn’t get to die fighting. He’d go out with a whimper instead of a bang.
The ominous chiming noise sounded again, twice this time. Malcolm wanted to close his eyes, but he was afraid of where his thoughts might take him if he did. He wished that he could see his friend’s faces one last time. Selfishly, he found himself wishing that they were there with him, so he wasn’t alone.
No. This is my fate and mine alone.
He turned his head to look at Jupiter, and it felt as though the planet was staring back at him, making eye contact. He was close enough now that he could see the massive storms that raged across the planet. He was close enough that he could feel them with his wind manipulation, even through what had to be thousands of miles of empty space.
My… wind manipulation?
Malcolm flinched in surprise. He could feel the wind on Jupiter with his powers. They’d finally returned to him, so long after he’d given up hope. And now, of all times, when it was already past the point of being helpful.
But was it past that point? He reached with his hand and slowly flexed the glove of the spacesuit. There had always been a limit to how far he could extend his powers out, but he’d never considered whether it was a static limit or something influenced by what filled the space between him and his target. There was nothing but empty space between him and Jupiter.
I have to give it a try.
Part of him was afraid to try, afraid of letting hope pull him up only to sink him further into a pit of despair and failure. Malcolm reminded himself that if he was going to die either way, then it didn’t matter in the end. He took a deep, calming breath, and focused.
It was so hard. His awareness of Jupiter’s atmosphere was a tenuous thing, like seeing vague outlines in a darkened room. He gritted his teeth and squeezed every muscle in his body in concentration. He called out to the winds of Jupiter, summoning them with all the concentrated will his powers would allow, and pulled.
The effect was tiny at first. Malcolm saw a small, distinct, orange bump rise upward on Jupiter’s atmosphere, like one of the bumps on a basketball. Slowly, it extended upward, the atmosphere pooling around the base of it as it formed into a thin pillar of hydrogen, ammonia, and methane. He called it toward him, urging it to his rescue, and watched it approach as a rushing stream of gas, cutting through space with a mind of its own.
Sweat trickled down Malcolm’s face. He didn’t know how long he’d been focusing for. At least several minutes had gone by, maybe close to an hour. The ominous chime was incessant now, his spacesuit’s life support system sharing in his panic.
The wind manipulated pillar of atmosphere reached him just as the chime became a screeching siren. Malcolm had only pulled up enough of it push him in the direction he needed to go, and already he could feel the vacuum of space sapping the gas out of his control. He pushed himself away from the planet, toward a light in the distance that he prayed was his ship.
Malcolm struggled to stay conscious. No matter how much he gasped for air, he couldn’t satisfy his lungs with the thinning levels of oxygen left in his suit. He could see it now. The ship was ahead of him. Black dots mottled his vision. He gave himself one final push with what little of Jupiter’s atmosphere he still had behind him, throwing himself into the airlock.
“Tapestry…” he muttered, voice weak.
He banged on the inner airlock door and hoped.
CHAPTER 23
The outer airlock door closed, and the airlock pressurized. Malcolm could breathe again, which told him that the crack in his helmet had probably been worse than he’d thought. He grinned like an idiot, feeling more pride in himself than he’d ever felt in his entire life.
As the inner airlock door opened, Tapestry slowly came into view on the other side. Her hair was messy, and the front of the astronaut jumpsuit she wore was stained with tears. She pulled him into a hug, wrapping her arms around his suit, and let out a body shaking sob.
“Malcolm!” she cried. “Oh my god, Malcolm! I was so worried!”
“I’m okay,” he said. “And I was pretty worried too.”
“Oh Malcolm…” Tapestry pulled back, but only slightly. She let out a strangled laugh. “I can’t believe it. How… I had the sensors search the area for you. Where were you?”
Malcolm pulled her back into a hug, suddenly feeling like he needed to have her even closer. He was back, and she was there with him, and everything was right in the world. He felt like he could cry, too.
“It’s a long story,” he said. “And I don’t completely understand it, myself.”
He pulled his helmet off, determined to give her a kiss, even if it only found its way to her cheek. He grinned at Tapestry, and then frowned as he saw the confusion in her expression. Confusion which quickly shifted to horror, and then to total despair. She brought her hands to her mouth and shook her head.
“No…” Tapestry’s body shook with another silent sob. “No! Why…?”
Malcolm was stunned by her sudden shift.
“What?” he said. “What is it?”
“Again!” she screamed. “Not again… Why… What did I do to deserve this a second time?”
Malcolm gaped at her. He reached a hand out to set onto her shoulder. She pulled back as though it were the red-hot tip of a fire brand.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “I’m alive. You don’t have to –”
“Malcolm...” She wiped a hand across her eyes and put more distance between them. “Don’t come any closer!”
Her tone of voice triggered something inside of Malcolm. He looked down at his helmet, staring into his own reflection in the faceplate. What he saw there made his insides twist into a knot.
His skin was several shades darker than he remembered it being, with a hint of blue to its tone. A dozen or more small bumps ran around the crown of his skull in a circle. Malcolm crumpled, hanging where he was in zero gravity, but bending at the knees in an attempt to fall to them.
“Tapestry!” he cried. “Please, wait! I didn’t know!”
There was no response. He had no idea where she’d gone to on the ship.
I didn’t know. How did I not know?
He started after her, and then realized how it would seem if he confronted her and tried to make her understand. It was just the two of them aboard the ship. The circumstances couldn’t have been any more confining. Would they even stand a chance at making it back to Earth without Malcolm, now a demon, having an episode? Would he kill her if he did, a monster out of control, on a rampage that would be impossible to escape?
“No!” shouted Malcolm. “No…”
He pulled off the space suit and flung its pieces wide. Running his hands through his hair, Malcolm considered his options and knew that he only had one that made any sense, if he truly cared about Tapestry.
The inner airlock door was still open. Malcolm floated back through it, resting his hands on his knees as he floated in the center of the space. He let himself spin to face back toward the rest of the ship.
“I’m in the airlock, Tapestry,” he called. “You know… what
needs to happen.”
He remembered waking up in his spacesuit. It felt like days ago, rather than less than an hour. He’d thought that dying in space alone, away from his friends, was his worst nightmare. Malcolm almost laughed out loud at how wrong he’d been. This was so much worse. The horror he’d seen on Tapestry’s face was so much more painful.
The inner airlock door slowly slid closed. Malcolm nodded, glad that she had the courage to do what needed to be done. He knew there was a feed from the airlock to the cockpit, and he let his eyes scan the wall until he saw the camera.
“It’s okay,” he said. “This is my decision as much as it is yours, Tapestry. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I don’t want to hurt you.”
There was a strange irony to it. Malcolm had been one of the proponents of reform inside the Champion Authority. He’d wanted a different solution to the problem of demons and sprytes other than summary execution.
But this was different. He couldn’t take the risk of putting Tapestry in danger. Even if he managed to keep from hurting her, it was almost certain that if he had an episode, he’d damage the ship. And that was the same thing, in the end.
“Do it, Tapestry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I let everyone down. I let you down.”
Malcolm closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and accepted his fate.
CHAPTER 24
Malcolm waited. His thoughts were suspended, not racing or reflecting on the events of his life, but empty, and almost meditative. He waited for his own death in full acceptance of it.
Minutes went by, long enough to pull him from his hollow reverie and make him realize that something was wrong. He heard an airlock door sliding, and realized with surprise that it was the inner door, the one behind him, leading back to the ship.
“Tapestry…” Malcolm slowly shook his head.
She can’t keep me alive. That’s not an option here.
Malcolm watched as she floated back toward him. He could tell that she’d been crying heavily, but it looked different than it would have back on Earth, tears floating free of her eyes and getting into her hair and on her forehead instead of leaving neat, downward trails.
She put her arms around him and let out a silent sob, her body shaking with it despite herself. Malcolm only hugged her back when he stopped to consider how cruel it would be for him not to.
“No…” he whispered. “Tapestry, I don’t want to hurt you. You know what you have to do.”
He felt her fingernails dig into his back slightly.
“You don’t want to hurt me?” she asked. She pulled and stared at him, anger clear in her eyes. “But you’d force me to make this decision? You idiot!”
Malcolm bowed his head. What other options did they have? He wasn’t himself anymore. He was a monster, and all it would take was his first lapse of control to jeopardize them both. Having him onboard the ship now was like sheltering a ticking time bomb.
“You would have done it back on Earth, if I’d turned,” said Malcolm. “Wouldn’t you have?”
He asked the question before giving it any really thought, and immediately wished that he hadn’t. He saw Tapestry’s thoughts going back to when Second Wind had turned into a demon and showed up at her house. He’d never gotten a chance to ask her for the full story of what had happened before he’d shown up.
“I… can’t lose you,” whispered Tapestry. “Not again.”
Her eyes met his, and Malcolm didn’t see any of the disgust and horror from before left in them. Instead, there was recognition, as though her mind was closing the gap between Malcolm the champion and whatever he was now. Seeing her working so hard to accept him healed a part of him he hadn’t realized was damaged.
“Tapestry…” He smiled at her, and suddenly felt his own overwhelming urge to cry.
Keep it together, Malcolm. Focus on the situation.
“We have to come up with a plan, then,” he continued. “This is… such a huge risk you’re taking. We have to come up with a way to ensure that at the very least, I’m not a danger to you.”
“Your focus activity,” said Tapestry. “The rock and roll music you love so much. I’ll see if ground control can email some of it to us.”
Malcolm smiled at her choice of words, but also at how committed she was to seeing her decision through. She was still Tapestry, and even if she was about to do something risky, she had too much wisdom to not approach it from the best angle.
“Lock me in one of the storage rooms,” said Malcolm. “Those doors are also airtight. That way, if something happens…”
If I have an episode…
“No,” said Tapestry. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”
“Tapestry…”
“I’m in charge, Malcolm,” she said, sharply. “That’s the first thing we need to be totally clear on. You’ve forfeited any claim of authority you might have had on the ship when…” She trailed off, unsure of her words. “When the accident happened. I have a clear head and will be the one calling the shots from here forward.”
Malcolm couldn’t help but smile.
“Well, you certainly haven’t gotten any less bossy,” he said.
A small smiled crept onto Tapestry’s lips, though Malcolm could tell she was trying to suppress it. She was still floating close to him, and hesitantly, she extended a hand toward his face.
“Was it… painful?” she asked.
Malcolm shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “When I got hit, I lost consciousness. I woke up in the middle of space, not knowing where the ship was, with no communications. And apparently, I’d already turned.”
Tapestry winced in sympathy.
“And your powers…?”
Malcolm smiled.
“They’re back,” he said. “And stronger than ever.”
A sudden urge called out to him. He wanted to show her, or rather, he wanted to show off. He had more power at the tips of his fingers than he’d ever imagined possible. How amazing would it be to give Tapestry a demonstration, to show her that they weren’t powerless against their enemies anymore?
He forced it down, seeing it for what it was. But it took willpower to keep contained, and Malcolm felt a dark suspicion that it would be impossible to keep under control forever.
“Are there any other changes I should know about?” asked Tapestry.
“Such as…?”
Malcolm saw her blush slightly, but couldn’t guess at what the cause of it was. She didn’t elaborate further on her question.
“Well, I guess we should continue on, then,” she said. “With the mission. I think it’s better if I deal with ground control alone now, just so we don’t have to do too much explaining.”
“There’s a good chance they’ve already seen me over one of the camera feeds,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry shook her head.
“Only the one in the cockpit is a constant feed back to Earth,” she said. “I asked about that.”
“Well… alright,” said Malcolm. “I agree. I’ll stay in the background and let you be the brave captain of the ship.”
Tapestry gave him a look of feigned frustration, but the smile behind it was real.
“Malcolm…” she said. She looked as though she had something else to add, but stopped herself.
“This is weird for me, too,” said Malcolm. “But I promise you, Tapestry. I’m going to keep myself in line. Even if it kills me.”
CHAPTER 25
The next few hours passed by in a surreal blur. Malcolm found himself avoiding Tapestry, his own worries about what might happen outweighing his feelings for her.
He spent several minutes in the ship’s cramped bathroom, floating in front of a mirror and barely recognizing the face staring back at him. He still looked like himself when it came to the basic features, but at a glance, all Malcolm saw was monster. It wasn’t until he looked for the details, the lines of his chin and cheekbones, that he saw himself.
He was a little surprised tha
t he didn’t look like Second Wind had as a monster. His copy’s skin had gone pale white, while Malcolm was now more of a faint blue. If not for the bumps along his skull, he might have been able to pass for normal under the right lighting conditions.
True to Tapestry’s word, she had the ground control team send up a playlist of Malcolm’s favorite 90s rock songs. Hearing Blink-182 and Nirvana playing through the ship’s speakers only made the entire situation seem even stranger. He kept expecting himself to wake up at any second.
It’s not a dream, though. I know it isn’t.
“There’s food out here, if you aren’t too scared to be in the same room as me,” called Tapestry.
Malcolm couldn’t keep from smiling as he headed toward the common room. A part of him was still caught on how she’d reacted when she’d first seen him as a demon, and how much of her reaction he’d shared with his own feelings.
It felt wrong for her to accept him. It felt like he was watching her go against long held beliefs and convictions, and in doing so, burning a piece of who she was. He was the catalyst for that, and the guilt Malcolm felt was real, justified or not.
“Space food isn’t as bad as I’d thought it would be,” said Tapestry. “Though obviously, it pales in comparison to what I could cook with a proper kitchen.”
“Of course,” said Malcolm.
She frowned at him, sensing his conflict, and shook her head.
“Quit feeling sorry for yourself,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“Then quit feeling sorry for me,” said Tapestry. “Whatever it is you’re feeling, get rid of it. We still have a mission to accomplish, and I won’t have you distracted.”
Malcolm shrugged. He ripped open a vacuum sealed plastic bag of dried vegetable chips.
“I’ll try,” he said.
Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Page 79