You okay, Dude? Billy thought.
I am. How are you feeling?
Like I have an anthill to protect, Billy thought. Let’s get to it.
Chapter 44: Pieces
Bedlam held a hot cup of coffee between both hands, enjoying the warmth of it on her skin. She sat in a coffee shop, an Ishmael’s, of course, because a little suburban town like Westwick would have an Ishmael’s. The shop was busy but not crowded, a few people in line waiting for lattes, a tattooed man with an excessive beard working furiously on a silver laptop nearby.
I haven’t sat down in a coffee shop in so long, Bedlam thought. Not since…
She looked down at her hands again and found them both as they were before her accident, before the experiment.
My real hands, she thought. Not the silvered metal of her mismatched cyborg hands. She clutched the coffee cup tighter, savoring the warmth. She could feel with her mechanical hands, they had sensors that detected temperature and touch, so she could interact with the world, but this was different. Real fingers, real flesh, real nerves.
She touched her face. The metallic parts that held her together were gone. Bedlam turned so she could catch her reflection in the window, and two flesh-and-blood eyes looked back at her, not one gleaming robotic one beside one ordinary eye. Her usual Mohawk was a toned down but still appropriately punkish undercut. She wore earrings she remembered having as a young teenager and a sundress in pale rose pink.
This is me, she thought. This is me.
“You look lost,” the man with the beard and laptop said. Bedlam glanced over at him, then looked around to make sure he had spoken to her.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you just seemed out of sorts. Sorry to pry.”
“I—yeah. Right,” Bedlam said. “I’m sorry. Been a while since a stranger has noticed.”
“It’s weird, right?” the man said. “People don’t talk to each other anymore.”
“That’s not it,” Bedlam said. “I, um. Huh. I don’t get out much.”
“Sorry to hear that,” the man said. “I’m Rob, by the way.”
He held out a hand. Hesitantly, she shook it. Warm hand against warm hand. I didn’t even realize how much I missed this, she thought.
“I’m Kimberly,” she said, stumbling over the urge to say the name she’d gone by for so long now. That’s who I am here, she thought. I’m the old me. Before I became Frankenstein’s manic pixie dream bot. “I shouldn’t disturb you. You were working.”
“Nothing that can’t wait,” Rob said. “I run a small business. Going over this month’s expenses. My least favorite part of the job.”
Job, Bedlam thought. Expense reports. Ordinary world stuff. Everyone says ordinary life is boring, but when you can’t go out in public without scaring people, the idea of sitting undisturbed in a coffee shop looking at numbers wasn’t so bad. Bedlam never had a chance to be boring. She had no comparison by with to measure it with.
“What do you do?” Rob asked.
Bedlam had also never had a real job. She went with the first thing she thought of.
“I’m in school,” she said. “I’m, um, a waitress.”
“Hope you’re studying something you enjoy,” Rob said.
Again, Bedlam scrambled for the first thing that sprang to mind.
“I’m studying robotics,” she said.
“Now that’s impressive,” Rob said. “I sell hand-crafted skateboards made from old recycled materials. Probably sounds ridiculous.”
“Nah,” Bedlam said. She felt a tickle in the back of her throat, a growing melancholy. She bit down on her inner cheek, intentionally causing herself pain. Don’t you dare cry in front of this person, she thought. You don’t do that. “It sounds fun.”
“I mean I mostly sell to stockbrokers who are having midlife crises at thirty, but it’s a living,” Rob said, laughing. “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I—please don’t be offended by this, but your left eye is looking kind of greenish?”
Bedlam’s heart began to race. She stood up awkwardly.
“I’m going to, uh, check my eye in the women’s room,” she said. “Thank you or telling me. I should take a look.”
“Do you want me to get help or anything?” Rob said.
“No, no, not yet,” Bedlam said. “I’ll just—can you keep an eye on my coffee?”
Rob nodded and smiled so warmly it made Bedlam’s stomach twist. Strangers don’t look at me with kindness anymore, she thought. I don’t know that they ever did.
She speed walked to the women’s restroom, relieved to find she didn’t need a key or to be buzzed in. I must be having a dream, Bedlam thought. Nobody can just walk into a public restroom anymore in the real world, right? Isn’t that a thing?
She closed the door behind her and latched it. Placing both hands on either side of the sink, she leaned in to look into her own eyes.
The left eye had begun to glow green from within. The eye that was, she knew, not real. Not part of her.
The porcelain of the sink suddenly crackled beneath her fingertips. Bedlam glanced down and saw that her hands, those human hands she held a cup of coffee with just a moment before, were gone, replaced not with the sleek, five-fingered upgraded models she’d acquired with the help of Agent Black and Henry Winter, but the clunky, awkward ones the Children of the Elder Star had bolted onto her body. One was just two thick fingers and a thumb, the other grotesque with exposed wiring and sloppy soldering.
“No,” she said. She backed away, but her robotic hands didn’t respond fast enough, still gripping the sink, yanking it from the wall. Water began to spray everywhere, soaking the room. She picked her feet up off the floor and watched as real feet of muscle and bone became misshapen, metal angles poking through the skin until the flesh gave away. Wide, stocky limbs with the look of construction equipment replaced her legs below the knee.
The transformation continued up her legs and arms, replacing all four limbs with monstrous, oversized mechanisms. The pain was blinding, as if her brain remembered the agony of the torturous transformative surgery that had been blurred out with painkillers and anesthetics. She screamed, falling backward into the bathroom door as she watched her face began to twist into a square, silver mess of steel. It caved, and she tumbled into the café, knocking over a high top. The patrons began to scream as well, running from her. She saw Rob hesitate for a moment, a look of concern turning into a mask of terror, and he ran as well.
Bedlam stomped toward the front of the coffee shop, suddenly twice her normal height, shoulders tearing through the wood and plaster of the restaurant’s ceiling. She smashed through the front windows and into the street. More pedestrians ran from her, and she tripped over a car, her mechanical legs obliterating the entire driver’s side. She heard a baby crying somewhere. Please don’t let that baby be in this car, she thought, please, not that, I know this can’t be real but I can’t see that…
She felt something slam against her shins, then catch between her ankles, knocking her off balance. She fell backward, crushing a meter, coins spilling into the street like some final insult to this cacophony of injuries. She leaned backward, trying to get her awkward, slow cyborg limbs to cooperate so she could get back on her feet.
Then she felt something thump on her chest. Her entire torso was metal now, no longer even offering a semblance of humanity. She looked down to see what hit her and was greeted with the horrifying visage of Titus in full werewolf form. He set aside his spear and put a hand on each of her shoulders, somehow, despite her size, pinning her to the ground.
The wolf leaned in so close she could see the tiny serrated edges of his teeth. In a voice that was both Titus and not, the monster spoke.
“Wake up,” he said.
And she did.
Bedlam woke kicking and thrashing, restrained, unexpectedly, by the oversized arms of Titus, who cradled her like a child, sitting on the pavement outside a coffee shop in the empty downtown of Westwick. The sky was red now
, the same eerie red it had been when they entered the portal, and all the civilians who’d seen her in her nightmare were gone. The others stood back a few feet, outside the reach of her kicking legs. Billy had pulled the mask back from his costume and was watching with the sort of fear she would expect from someone at a hospital bedside. She calmed down, letting herself be held by the werewolf, which felt shockingly comforting, in a way.
Titus opened his eyes, gazing at her with giant, golden orbs.
“How did you do that?” Bedlam asked.
“I’m learning,” Titus said. He let her go, and she sat up, but before she got to her feet, Bedlam pressed her forehead into Titus’ massive, furry shoulder.
“Thanks for that,” she said. “I owe you.”
“You were in deeper than the others,” Titus said. “I thought you might need more help finding your way home.”
“I am so finding a therapist when we get back,” Bedlam said, laughing and wiping tears from her eye.
“I think we all are,” Billy said. “This sucks. Why can’t we fight aliens or monsters or something? This is horrible.”
“We’re fighting ourselves,” Jane said. “Doc always said magic was the most dangerous thing we’d ever face. I used to think he was exaggerating.”
“Yeah,” Bedlam said. “Guys, I am so glad to see you. That was really rough. Did you all have nightmares too?”
“Oh yeah,” Billy said. “I had an existential crisis.”
“Me too,” Jane said. “I mean, it was like a literal reenactment of an existential crisis.”
“My nightmare tried to kill me,” Titus said, getting to his feet and helping Bedlam stand up. She cocked her head at the strange way his voice sounded coming from his werewolf form.
“You stuck like that?” she asked.
“No,” Titus said. “Just… enjoying a little more inner peace than I’m used to having.”
“You kind of have a lisp when you talk like this,” Billy said.
“It’s the canines,” Titus said, shooting Billy a cartoonish grin with his long muzzle.
“One more, then,” Kate said, the first time she’d spoken since Bedlam woke up. “Where’s Emily?”
Titus picked up his spear and sighed.
“I’m not going to be able to pull her out the way I did Billy and Bedlam,” he said. “I may need all your help.”
“Do I even want to know why,” Jane said.
“You’ll see,” Titus said. “Believe me, you’ll see.”
Chapter 45: Entropia
Emily settled into her ornate saddle and patted her mount on the neck. She held her head high, taking a deep breath as the wind ruffled her hair. She pulled her steampunk goggles down dramatically over her eyes and nodded.
This would be the final battle for the kingdom, Emily said. We have come so far. We have battled so much. Victory would be theirs at long last.
She twisted in her saddle and her mount pivoted. His long, blue-scaled neck twisted so he could look at her with enormous golden eyes.
“Are you ready, Lord Commander?” the dragon asked, his face so close Emily could smell the ghost of flames on his breath.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, Bubbles,” Emily said. “You’ve been a brave and true companion in our war against the Laser Ninjas of Over There. I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“It has been an honor, fighting from Narnia to Westeros at your side,” the dragon said. “If we can drive the Laser Ninjas back this day, we can finally take the Death Moon by storm and put an end to this galactic war.”
“Then drive them back we shall,” Emily said.
She unclipped the laser sword at her hip and held it aloft, igniting it. She looked down at her troops, gathered below, awaiting her orders. An army of short, bear-like bipedal mammals, adorned in primitive garments and armor, the mighty Fur Folk of the Planet of Trees had been her elite warriors throughout the War of One Thousand Planets, and despite their small stature and limited vocabulary, they were staunch allies and vicious fighters.
As she lifted her laser sword to them, a cacophony of barks arose, an ocean of woofs as the Fur Folks’ armored corgi mounts lifted their heads to cheer. The Fur Folk joined in with their own garbled alien language, raising spear and stone club and the occasional blaster rifle overhead in excitement.
“My mighty warriors!” Emily shouted, adjusting her wizarding school uniform for maximum effect, snapping her rainbow suspenders in a display of confidence. “The undead army of Laser Ninjas think they can defeat us, but they are not prepared! They will not withstand our might, our prowess, our courage! Together, we will storm the Death Moon and put a stop to the machinations of the Dark Prince of Clowns! I swear this as Lord Commander of Dragonperch!”
Once again, her minute battalion cheered. She raised her laser sword once more, then wheeled Bubbles around, the dragon taking flight to lead the charge across an empty field. In the distance, she could see rows of ninjas ignite laser swords much like her own.
“For the kingdom of Entropia!” she shouted.
But before she could go any further, she saw the strangest thing in the middle of the battlefield: five young people, familiar, staring up at her in utter disbelief.
“Down, Bubbles. We must make sure these wayfarers are not the enemy,” she said, and he dragon returned to the earth a few feet from the gathered oddities. As she drew closer, she realized she knew their names, though she couldn’t figure out why they were all here.
“You really should get off the field of battle,” Emily said. “I’d suggest you get out of the way so you don’t get hurt. There’s a war going on here.”
“I have often said I wanted to have five minutes to see what goes on inside Emily’s head,” Billy said. “I feel like I can officially check that off the bucket list. I’ve now been there. I don’t need to go back.”
“I don’t understand anything I’ve just seen,” Kate said.
“It’s like the land fan fiction threw up on,” Bedlam said.
“This is amazing,” Titus said. “Seriously, this is the greatest thing I have ever seen.”
“Hang on,” Jane said. “I get a horrific anxiety dream and Emily gets to be the Mother of Dragons and a Jedi at the same time?”
“I am not Bubbles’ mother,” Emily said. “He is my brave companion and best friend.”
“Good day to you,” the dragon said, bowing with comical grace.
“You guys deal with this,” Kate said, walking away. “I’m not equipped for this. I’m just not.”
“I had a legitimately panic-attack inducing nightmare,” Billy said. “This is unfair.”
“Hey, mine was pure body horror,” Bedlam said.
“I tried to eat myself,” Titus said.
“So therapy for you too?” Bedlam said.
“I’m already in therapy,” Titus said.
“Because you’re a werewolf?” Bedlam asked.
“Because I have catastrophic clinically diagnosed anxiety,” Titus said. “The werewolf part is just a bonus.”
“We’re a disaster,” Billy said. “How have we saved the world multiple times?”
“By being true and brave companions,” Emily said.
Billy sighed.
“I want this dream,” Billy said. “Why’d I get a nightmare instead of flying an X-Wing to fight off an army of White Walkers?”
“I had an X-Wing once,” Emily said. “But no starship can compare to the love and loyalty of the greatest dragon in the land.”
“You flatter me,” Bubbles said.
“I’m just being honest,” Emily said.
“Are those… corgis in plate armor?” Bedlam said.
“Being ridden by…” Titus said.
“Yup,” Billy said, throwing his arms in the air. “Yup.”
“Um, guys, there’s an army of ninjas with laser swords running at us,” Bedlam said.
“We must defeat the undead Laser Ninjas of Over There!” Emily said. “Join us, heroes, and w
e will feast tonight on barbecue chicken pizza and salted caramel cheesecake!”
The army of furry aliens cheered as Emily said cheesecake.
“You know what, forget it,” Bedlam said. “I want to stay here. Let’s just stay in Emily’s dream. This is better than any reality we can possibly go back to.”
“Emily, we have a town to save,” Jane said, trying, as always, to be the voice of reason. “With real people.”
“The Fur Folk are people too,” Emily said. “Well, aliens, but that doesn’t disqualify them from fighting for their freedom. And once we defeat the Death Moon, all the great peoples of the world of Entropia will be out from under the yoke of the Dark Prince of Clowns! The mermaids of the Glittering Grotto, the elflings of the Winding Wood, the Free Robots of Trashcandar, all will finally escape their bonds!”
“The Dark Prince of Clowns,” Jane said bluntly.
“He is very dark,” Emily said.
“Is he also a clown,” Jane said.
“That’s why they all him the Dark Prince of… Clowns,” Emily said. “I thought that would be self-explanatory.”
“He is both a dark prince and a clown,” Jane said.
“He’s a prince of clowns?” Billy said. “Meaning there’s a whole group of dark clowns over there?”
“This is true,” Emily said. “With an army of undead ninjas.”
“With laser swords,” Titus said.
“Yes,” Emily said.
“And are all the clowns dark, or just the prince?” Bedlam said.
“Aren’t all clowns dark?” Emily said.
“I think we figured out why this qualifies as a nightmare,” Bedlam said.
“I hate clowns,” Billy said.
“But the prince is the very darkest among them,” Emily said. “His laugh alone can turn your blood to ice and cause bladders to loosen uncontrollably.”
Kate came stomping back into the conversation, hands flailing in the most spectacular display of emotion any of them had ever witnessed from her.
“Did you just say these little corgi-riding furballs are being oppressed by a cadre of evil clowns with undead ninjas?” Kate said.
The Indestructibles (Book 5): The Crimson Child Page 21