by Amanda Jay
TOM
Once again, Tom had to admit to himself exactly how much in awe of Skii he was. He would probably never learn where she managed to "borrow" the clothes that they were both wearing, or how she managed to slick his hair back and darken the soft fuzz that had lately begun to show on his upper lip so that even he could barely recognise himself, but he had long learned not to question her, and to just let her do what she was good at.
And so the two of them stood outside the City Guard Station, hearts speeding up even though neither of them would admit it, hoping that their plan would work. Tom knew he was being foolhardy and he knew that Skii knew it too. But she still wouldn't let him do it alone.
"What if we got caught?" he asked her.
"If there's such a serious chance of us getting caught then why must we do it?"
"You know I have to, Skii. You heard what he said. How can I go on without knowing what he did? Without knowing what I am?"
She looked dead at him, searching. You don't have to, her eyes said. What we have is enough. It has always been enough.
"Of course," she replied out loud. "And that is why I must go with you. Just in case something does go wrong."
"What about me?" Felix had asked, softly, back at the attic. He had been quiet since they read through the journals.
"You stay here," Skii replied quickly, sensing Tom's annoyance. "We won't be too long. And it would be far too much to hope that the both of you would go unrecognised, right in the office of the very people who are searching for you."
Tom tried not to trip over the boots he was wearing as they climbed the stairs to the entrance.
"What can I help you with?" the young City Guard drawled, disinterestedly from behind the front desk. He was slouched back in his chair with his hat jauntily cocked to the side.
"We are here to see a man that you are holding under arrest." They had already decided that Skii would do most of the talking, and she used her bossiest, most irritable voice, staring sternly at the young guard.
"And who would that be?" he asked, straightening up a little under Skii's glare.
"His name is Ezra Orson. He was working on an experiment for the Department of Energy Manufacture and Distribution. An experiment that I must now take over thanks to his incompetence. I need to get some information from him. I was told that he was being held here until the trial."
"Ezra Orson?" the guard clarified.
"Yes. O-R-S-O-N. Really, young man. I do not have the time..."
"I'm really sorry, Ma'am, but we don't allow Mr. Orson any visitors."
"Don't allow him any... Do you hear that Albert?" Skii looked over at Tom melodramatically. "They don't allow him any visitors. And when this entire city falls to ruin for lack of energy, we can tell everyone that it was because Ezra Orson wasn't allowed any visitors!"
"I'm r-really sorry, Ma'am," the guard repeated, more nervously this time.
"Oh, you are sorry. Of course. That makes everything alright!" Skii rolled her eyes haughtily, shoving a sheaf of papers under the guard's nose. "Well, unless you can answer these questions yourself, I strongly suggest you check with a superior."
"Ma'am?"
"A superior. Your boss. A senior official." Skii fixed him with her mostly withering look.
"I'm really sorry, Ma'am. There was a situation this morning at the library, it was quite serious I hear, and the Captain left to investigate. I was not to allow any visitors."
"Oh, I am sure Captain Tatum wouldn't mind. Here's a letter addressed to him by Professor Muriel himself, the head of the department, requesting him to let me speak to Mr. Orson. I'm sure he would not like to hear about all the trouble you have given the city, and by extension, Mayor Frankly while he was away."
That Tatum wasn't at the station was a pure stroke of luck. Tom wasn't sure that the expertly forged letter that Felix typed up would hold up to the Captain's scrutiny. But the young guard was crumbling under Skii's performance, which, if he had to be honest, even Tom found quite unnerving.
He looked helpless over at Tom, hoping, perhaps, for some support. But Tom just shrugged and gave the guard his most apologetic you-better-do-what-she-says smile.
"O-okay. You can see him. But just for a few minutes. I d-don't know if I'm supposed to..."
"Well, chip chop then," Skii clapped her hands twice, and to Tom's surprise the guard stood up and let them down a narrow corridor.
Whatever the situation at the library was, it looked like most of the guards had left, and the station was quite deserted.
"Wait here," the guard instructed, leading them into a small room, sparsely furnished with an old wooden desk and a scattering of wooden chairs. Skii sat down on one of the chairs and looked pointedly at the guard.
"I hope I will not have to wait long."
They didn't. A few minutes later, the man who was supposed to be Tom's father was led through the door.
The small room immediately filled with the smell of someone who had not had a bath in weeks, which Tom supposed must be the case. The man simply stared down at his feet and Tom could barely see his face beneath the scraggly stubble that was not quite a beard yet.
"These are your visitors, Mr. Orson," the guard announced hesitantly, although the prisoner didn't look up.
"That will be all, guard." Skii announced.
"W-we are usually supposed to stay..." the guard objected, but halted quickly as Skii turned to him again with a single eyebrow raised.
"I'll be just outside the door. You have t-ten minutes."
And then it was just the three of them.
"Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Orson?" Skii asked softly, her voice back to normal. Tom avoided her eye as Ezra shuffled onto a chair.
"Muriel didn't send you," he finally rasped, studying his hands with a glazed expression. He hadn't even looked over at Tom.
"No, he didn't."
Ezra remained expressionless.
Tom supposed that this was the moment he was supposed to step in. The moment he would reveal himself. But everything felt like it was moving much slower than it should.
"There's someone you should meet," Skii spoke hesitantly, glancing over at Tom who still refused to look her way.
"Meet?"
"Yes, meet." Tom spoke. His voice sounded weak and insipid and he hated himself right then.
Ezra's eyes took a moment to adjust on him. They were watery and searching, sweeping over Tom's disguise and settling instead on his face.
"Felix," the scientist cried out softly.
"Shh!" reminded Skii.
"Why did you come back? Did you do as I asked?"
Bitterness rose out of Tom like bile. He had so much to say. So much to ask. But he could only sit himself down on the wooden chair opposite Ezra.
"Felix," the man said again.
"It isn't Felix," Tom said quietly.
It took only a tick of the Eyes for Ezra to understand.
"It can't be," he whispered, life starting to trickle into his eyes. "It can't be."
"Look, I don't have time to waste," his words finally found a way out. "I need to know-- I need to know what all this is about."
"It can't be," Ezra insisted. "This is a trick. This is Udolphus, isn't it. This is what he does." There was an edge of panic in his voice, even though Tom couldn't understand what he meant.
"This is no trick. Felix found me. It's me. I'm the... the other one." Tom spoke to words without any passion.
"He found you. He found you." Ezra reached out a trembling hand as if to touch him, but Tom moved aside.
"I'm sorry," Ezra sounded weak, broken. "I really am."
"It doesn't really matter if you're sorry." Tom tried hard to keep his voice even. "I just want to know..." But what did he want to know, exactly?
"Why did you give me away?" he asked clumsily.
"I didn't want to. You must believe me. I didn't want to." Ezra was visibly shaking now, and there was a tear starting to run down his right cheek.
; "You would have been killed if... when... they realised what I had done. I... I should have killed you myself. But I couldn't... How could I?"
He rasped in a jagged breath, spit and tears alike pooling down his face.
I should have killed you myself. Tom never knew that words could physically hurt him.
"It was destroying her. That's why I did it. I made this terrible mistake and it was destroying her."
"Why would I destroy her? Why me?" Why not him? was the real question he wanted to ask, but he held back.
"It had to be."
Tom snorted.
"Listen, please, you have no idea how sorry I am. I can't even..."
"Did you kill her? Your wife? Just like you wished you killed Tom?" Tom couldn't believe that Skii was still adamant on sticking to the plan. When his father was right before then. When he could finally get the answers he was looking for.
But Ezra just turned to look at Skii, as if really noticing her for the first time.
But he shook himself and turned back to Tom. "You have to know, you must know, that everything I did, I did for us. For our family. It was the only way. I had no other choice." The tears were streaming from eyes quite freely now, and he rocked back and forth, cradling himself.
"Where did I come from?" Tom asked.
"I had no idea that it would destroy everything. What I did was, it was unforgivable. I was so afraid. Petrike, he, I can't even." Ezra was starting to babble, and Tom couldn't keep up.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he sobbed.
There was a knock on the door, which everyone ignored.
"Tell me," Tom asked again, more urgently.
"I didn't kill her, I swear. Why would I kill the person I love most in this whole, ridiculous world?"
"Then who did?" Skii asked. Tom glared at her. Didn't she realise that he came here to get his own answers?
Another knock, more urgent this time. "Excuse me," the guard could be heard.
"Onyx. It had to be Onyx. She knew. She knew that all this happened because of Kaelyn. It has to be her. But the guards won't believe me."
"Where did I come from?" Tom tried again.
Ezra looked at him sadly. "I wish I could explain. But it would be too--"
The next knock was a lot louder, and didn't wait for an answer.
Skii stood up immediately, giving Tom a small nod.
"If you think that the greatest scientific discoveries of this generation can be made with such interruptions--" she began, as the door swung open.
But it was a different guard who stepped in. An older, burlier guard who walked into the room and crossed his arms menacingly at Skii.
"Mr. Orson is not meant to have visitors."
"I'm fully aware of that, young man, however, as I explained to your colleague--"
"I don't care. You have to leave. Now."
"But I have a signed letter of request from--" but just then a loud siren began to ring through the station.
"Twin Faced God be damned, we are in the middle of a level five emergency. Get out of this room right now," he yelled, grabbing Skii's arm and starting to march her through the door.
"Don't touch her," Tom shouted but he could hardly be heard through the commotion going on inside the station. He took one last look at Ezra, who had gone back to his dazed expression once the alarm started.
"Be careful of Onyx," he said, so softly that he could hardly be heard. "She knows everything. And she's very, very dangerous."
"Get your hands off me," Skii sounded far more like herself now than someone from the university.
It took everything Tom had for him to turn himself away and walk out after Skii.
EZRA
"Ahem," Ezra cleared his throat.
"Ahem."
"Shoosh! Everyone, the groom is about to speak!" Harry exclaimed gleefully, loudly hitting his knife against the side of his glass.
Ezra cringed. The wedding had been a blur. A blissful, happy, sometimes nerve-wracking blur. As accustomed he was to large groups by now, it was still a considerable struggle to be the centre of attention.
To Ezra's immense relief, Kaelyn hadn't wanted a large wedding.
"None of that flounce and flutter for me, thank you very much," she had announced when Ezra had tried to broach the subject. So they had settled instead for a quick signing at the Department of Records-- a small administrative section housed at the large University Library. A temple ceremony wasn't even discussed. Instead they whispered their vows to each other, just the two of them surrounded by works of history, and romance, and mystery, and all the wondrous possibilities of the greater world. It was quite poetic, really, Ezra thought happily to himself.
Of course, Kaelyn was far too popular for that to be all. A group had gathered at the bar where she worked, and plenty of toasts were made, along with plenty of laughs, awkward dancing, and lots of well-wishes.
"Congratulations," Frank had said gruffly, shaking his hand. "Looks like the best man got her." The best man. Ezra hoped that bit was true. He had noticed Frank whispering something to Kay as well, pushing a note into her hand. The poor bastard really needs to stop trying now, Ezra had thought to himself. Couldn't blame him really.
Ezra stole a glance at Kaelyn. She was perched on a bar stool, happily chatting away to a group of her friends. She had kicked off her shoes a while back but with the wreath of flowers in her hair, and the pale green dress that brought out the colour of her eyes, Ezra thought she had never looked more beautiful-- which was saying a lot for him.
"Ahem." His palms were sweating profusely, but it was now or never. He cleared his throat one last time before starting.
"Kay and I wanted to thank you all for coming down here tonight, I know it was rather short notice, but it truly has been a pleasure to celebrate our special day with our dear friends.
"I know that many of you were surprised that Kaelyn agreed to marry me. Well, let me tell you that no one has been more surprised than myself. Her warmth and love have been my strength since the moment I first laid eyes on her. Today, I consider myself to be the luckiest man, for the most intelligent, beautiful, and kind woman in all the world, is now my wife." He raised his glass in the air.
"I would like to drink to my beautiful Kay, for allowing a silly old chap like me to at least try to make her as happy as she makes me."
"To Kay!" the crowd cheered, as Ezra crossed the room to wrap his arms around her again. He was so enthralled with her that he hardly noticed the gentle tap on his shoulder.
"Esra?" a soft voice asked tentatively.
Ezra turned around, hoping for just a second that all these well-wishers would stop for a minute and let him enjoy his beautiful wife. His wife. He still couldn't believe it.
But the moment he turned around, he felt his heart stop.
"Rosie?" he couldn't believe his eyes.
"Hi Esra," she smiled shyly. The lisp she had when she was a child had never fully gone away.
"I got your letter. Aunt Marge had to visit a friend in the city so she let me come along with her. I-I hope it's okay." She looked down as she spoke, not meeting his eyes.
"I- Of course, it's okay. It's more than okay, I just didn't expect to see you that's all," Ezra explained, embarrassed that he was caught so off-guard. He honestly hadn't expected a response and had only begrudgingly sent the letter because Kaelyn had insisted.
He surveyed the small girl who stood in front of him now. Even though it had only been a few years since he left the farm, he hadn't seen his sister in a very long time. Aunt Marge lived four hours away and Ezra Senior had only made the trip out to see her once a year or so. He had never invited his son to join him and Ezra had been too afraid to ask.
Rosie looked, well, he supposed she looked just like their mother must have looked like when she was younger. She had the same rounded cheeks and the same rounded shoulders. She didn't have the same tired expression though, and her dark hair, which she had left down, flowed in large curls down her
back.
"Where are my manners?" Ezra apologised again. "Kay, I'd like you to meet my sister, Rose. Rosie, this is Kaelyn."
It took a Kaelyn a moment too, but her welcome came out far better than his did.
"Rosie! I've heard so much about you! We didn't think you would come!" she cried, jumping off the stool and wrapping her arms around the girl.
Rose gave a small yelp and patted Kaelyn's back awkwardly. Ezra wasn't the only stranger to affection.
"I'm not here for very long. Aunt Marge made me promise to be back by five o'clock sharp, so I should leave, well, now, I reckon. I just came to, well, congratulations." Her eyes had the same hollow look that Ezra had almost forgotten about.
"Thank you for coming, Rosie." And he really meant it. He honestly hadn't thought she would and he couldn't have blamed her if she didn't. "I almost can't believe that you are here. It's been years."
"Yes, years." She looked down again and Ezra felt embarrassed again. It was his fault that they had drifted apart.
He took her arm and led her outside the bar, away from the guests. He shot a glance over at Kaelyn as he did, and she nodded back at him knowingly.
"Rosie, how have you been?" he asked, when they reached the quiet side street.
"I'm fine," she replied, not quite meeting his eyes. "Aunt Marge is kind to me. She's even talking about letting me come to the city after I finish school."
"Rosie, that's fantastic. I can help you with applying to University, if you like. And you can always stay with me and Kay."
"Yes," she said, the polite smile not quite meeting her eyes and he was suddenly aware of how hypocritical his words sounded.
"Rosie, I--" but he stopped himself. What could he possibly say to her, anyway?
"It's okay. I'm sorry for surprising you like this. Today's your special day. You should get back to your party." Why did she always sound like she was only half there?
"No, don't go. Look, I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I'm just, well, you know how useless I am."
Rose gave him another tight smile.
"I don't know, Esra. You sounded great in there. So many friends. So very different from how you were on the farm. And Kaelyn really is lovely. Good for you. I could hardly recognise you."