Rogue Ragtime

by K Alexis

  Everything is fine here. We are having a party full of fun and joy.

  Sixteen: The Price

  MEA LAY ON the top bunk and listened to Tath snore and sob in equal measure. "Going to find you," Tath mumbled before punching the pillow. "Get back here. Don't cry. You can't fucking cry. Not again. Never again."

  Mea powered on her N-Comm and let its faint-blue light flood the room. It said the time was early evening, a fact she had partially guessed from the fading yellow line under their door. After everything she had been through in the past twelve hours, she should have been exhausted. However, her eyes refused to close and bounced open every time she attempted to go back to sleep.

  Sweat clung to her skin like a shroud that ran from the top of her head all the way to her left toe. Mea could not decide if it had come from restraining Tath or the apology sex afterwards to make up for all the anti-mutant slurs her friend had said. Unfortunately, the sad, slow intermingling of their bodies had failed to vanish the sting of the insults from her mind.

  Mea, more than ever, craved to be seen as a person by Tath, not a mutant. Every time she now imagined them together, she hoped her friend, lover, would perceive her as the powerful being that she was and not the half-monster others spat upon. But this acceptance would come at a price, one she was not willing to pay.

  Mea sat up, slid her legs off the bunk and bounced up and down on the hard mattress. It did not squeak despite the springs inside of it. Once more she found herself appreciating the careful crafting that had gone into the cabin's enchantment. If Elia had been more conscientious with the external shield, then …

  Mea studied her hands and contracted them into fists. They had murdered Steh. She had murdered Steh. Up until Elia's announcement, Mea had not been sure. The group had survived too many deadly encounters and narrow misses for her to be confident Steh had passed beyond without a fight. A part of her had even hoped her late-friend was alive somewhere—perhaps clinging to a cliff edge as giants ranked his top ten inventions.

  She could go home.

  She could wait a little longer.

  Against the advice of her tutors, teachers and humanity counselor, Mea had let Steh into her heart, and without him it felt as if a part of her was missing. She wondered what crevice he had filled to earn her sympathy. He was one more descendent in a long line of colonizers, enslavers and tyrants. Until he had been tortured, he had brought nothing to the world except trauma and terror with his creations. So confident had she been in his irredeemability that she had skipped her reconnaissance briefings to read more of Earth's pre-Cataclysm fiction.

  And yet, when she had seen him crawling naked on the road all those years ago, his back ripped in half as the universe had tried to push through it, she had felt pity. He had been blind then, clawing and shuffling toward an unknown destination with only the second Hemi ngèr novel clutched in his grip. His tormentors' blood had streaked his hair and crusted all over his body, leaving it a blotchy mess of red and white. Had she not been the Samaritan? Had she not been the compassionate heroine, finding her lost soulmate in an unexpected situation and desperately fighting to restore him to his previous glory? Had all the stories of Earth lied about the redemptive qualities of man?

  Surely, they had not. Steh had to be to blame. He had failed to master his power. He had brought this upon himself through lack of effort. He was not worthy of her tears. How could his life, a single soul, affect her more than the trillions she had saved from the cosmic fire? Was his bemused smile and occasionally witty remark equivalent to the lives of every being in this universe?

  Mea pushed off the bunk and landed on the floor. There was no reason for her to be sorry for her actions. Tath's sadness would be fleeting. Her lover would come to appreciate what Mea had done and the sacrifices she had borne.

  Crouching down, Mea brushed her girlfriend's hair away from her face. "I'm keeping you safe," she whispered. As she said the words, the emptiness Steh's death had created subsided a little. So, she pecked Tath on the forehead and said, "I'm keeping us safe."

  Mea opened the closet and looked through her clothes. They consisted mostly of hiking pants and tops, but at the end—shoved together in a bunch—were the dresses she had purchased at the start of her journey. For the first time since she had arrived, Mea wanted to wear them and revel in the attention they drew.

  She reached for a white, knee-length dress with a straight-across neckline. No longer was she going to be the mutant warhorse of the group. Navigators were royalty among the stars, and it was her moment to claim her birthright. Rifling through her clothes, she found the only pair of lingerie she owned that matched her new sense of self: a black lace bra and G-string, underwear that had been bought at the same time as the dresses.

  Mea picked up a towel from their cabin's complimentary assortment and headed down to the showers. Along the way, she stopped to appreciate Elia's complete collection of Howe's Mythical Madness exhibit as it was likely this was the last time she would be able to see them. As always, she had two favorites: "A Kitsune Prowling" and "The Noble Experiment."

  She loved "A Kitsune Prowling" for its sheer audacity. Howe had somehow convinced a Japanese fox spirit to change their gender in front of him, allowing their most vulnerable moment to be captured on canvas and gawked at by indifferent strangers. Mea assumed Howe must have known this because the painting had repaid their trust in spades. It captured the rebirth in all its glory. A woman rose out of a man's husk and into her eternal ascendency. The dark forest provided a suitable backdrop for the delicate bloom effects and layered coloring utilized. The effect of these techniques was to enthrall the viewer. They made it seem the man-woman-fox was entwined with nature and grew out of the earth until the sky subsumed them. They were no monster; they were Earth's embodiment of oneness.

  "The Noble Experiment" represented something entirely different. It aggressively skewered the obvious lustfulness of most monster depictions by pressing against every boundary. Vivid tones and angry brush strokes replaced the subtle colors and lighting effects of "A Kitsune Prowling." In the middle of the canvas, a naked mutant straddled a screaming mage and extracted his final ecstasy. Her blazing yellow eyes were defiant, proud and elated despite the bed of corpses she copulated on. Mea took a while to withdraw from it, treating its portrayal as a vindication of her choices.

  The bathroom was on the lower deck and had been magically extended: twenty cubicles existed where the airship had originally had five, and if one went around the corner, ten private showers could be found where there had been none. The room's pale-pink granite sparkled from a recent cleaning while the slight smell of disinfectant filled the room. In twelve years, Mea had yet to find another communal toilet as equally cared for.

  The shower's warm water hit her body hard. She put her hands on the tiles in front of her and let the stream cascade down her body, taking all of her fears and doubts along with it.

  "Ya be enjoying that, lass?" Elia's clipped question echoed about the deserted space.

  Mea spun around, trying to grab her towel but finding nothing. "This is—"

  "Aye, inappropriate. Not me first choice either, but ya be forgetting how many male officers be friends with that girl. Ya be telling me another place we can be meeting without them prying eyes, and I being there in a jiffy."

  "What do you want?" Mea demanded.

  "I be having some fresh doubts about Stehlan and his demise," Elia answered. Cooked up a pretty story for the crew and all them cheap seats, but I still be getting a nagging in the back of me cranial about it."

  Mea rubbed where Elia had hit her before and reminded herself to adopt a humbler approach than she had in their last encounter. "I was with Tath," she said. "I don't know anything about his suicide."

  "Ah, lass." Elia stepped into the cubicle, her height and girth making the stall feel much smaller. "Ya sure that be yar answer? I ain't be trying to punish ya for yar deeds. I be trying to save ya from yarself."

  "I was with
Tath," Mea repeated. "You cornering me in the shower doesn't change the truth."

  "That be the whole deal, eh? Then where be Stehlan's portal toy? He ain't being so selfish to be dooming the rest of yar group to gruesome deaths because Pennypacker be getting worn out on the wait. Me crew searched high and low for that little thing and couldn't be finding it. It almost be like someone keeping it. And I be wagering it be that same Navigator who been talking with Stehlan out on the deck before he been falling into the heavens."

  It was true Mea had not figured out a way to "discover" Steh's portal control without arousing mild suspicion yet, but she still had five more days before the airship arrived at Ras Al Khaimah. She was certain she could come up with a satisfactory explanation during that time. And there were no observation spells on the outside of the vessel. Elia could not know what had happened.

  "Are you accusing me of murder?" Mea asked.

  "Right as the rain be falling on the hinterlands," Elia answered. "Only one tide of them powers be getting through me shield, and ya the only person who be having it."

  "You're stretching, Turiean," Mea retorted. "Void magic is not limited to Navigators. There are others who can wield it in this universe."

  Elia scoffed. "Still ya be persisting," she said, mostly to herself. "It's like yar kind be thinking the rest of us lifefolk be dolts consuming air." She refocused on Mea. "I be knowing everything, lass. I be having that Starfire of yars locked in me cabin."

  Mea staggered back as if someone had hit her. The Chill Serpent started to slither down her body. "No, you don't. You can't."

  "And why that being, lass? Where Stehlan being, then?"

  "How would I know? I didn't kill him."

  Elia stood straight and stepped into the shower's stream. She was a hand-width away from Mea. "Lying only be working when the other side ain't know everything and more. I should be tossing ya from me vessel. Ya brought a Starfire into me house. A Starfire?" Mea could feel the tenseness in Elia. Every muscle the captain possessed appeared stretched tight and ready for a fight. "Ya lie one more time and we both be seeing if ya be flying better than yar friend."

  "You were never in any danger from Stehlan exploding," Mea admitted, not willing to gamble if Elia was bluffing. "I was watching over him and giving him a chance to prove he deserved life. He didn't."

  "Aye, that be a little better," Elia said. "The trouble be … I been reviewing the vid of yar fight meself and saw the kid's back glowing like it been Christmas for the Northern Lights. It be clear as a fine day on the waves he be a Sacramento in the making. Thought you be a lot of things, Meagh, but haughty as a wizard with their first wand not been one of them. Ya ain't been 'watching over' that lad for a long while."

  "Fine, I lapsed and wasn't perfect," Mea replied. "You caught me. Yes, my task took longer than it should have. I had emotions for once. What does it matter? I did my job last night. We would be safe now if it wasn't for you."

  Elia put her hand on Mea's head. Her grip felt like a metal vice. "Can't be atoning when ya feel like it, lass. Ya risked me life and limb for a dozen or so trips, and now ya be hoping to waltz back to yar mommy and have scones and cherry snacks? Nah, ain't how this here universe be working."

  The Serpent had settled in Mea's stomach, warning her she might end up in a fight for her life. She had not wanted to use her official authority as a delegate of the Navigator Council, but she had no options left. She could not beat Elia in a brawl. "Unfortunately, you have no say in how I decide to perform my duties, Turiean," Mea said. "It was a Council ordered removal, and I was acting on their behalf."

  "Eh, look at this cowering noble," Elia replied, "hiding behind yar race's armies and them treaties. Aye, I be upholding the Eternal Order, but nothing in them papers be saying I've to be handing him over if he ain't a danger to the rest of us. And he ain't now. Stashed him in one of me pocket dimensions. Ya'r the one with the bad roll cause there ain't no way for ya to be getting on home."

  Mea glowered at Elia. She knew the rule, and it was exactly why she had been reluctant to trade on her official position. Evoking treaties was a desperate gambit for Navigators because the agreements between universes were complex and nuanced. And if a Navigator accidentally broke a treaty term through ignorance or carelessness, war came next. The Library of Oblivion was filled with universes that had met their fate due to one of her race misremembering a sub-section of an article while on assignment.

  And as long as Tath lived, she had no desire to witness the Milky Way burn under a Navigator assault. Swallowing her pride, Mea folded and asked, "If the Starfire's not a problem, then what's your purpose here? To torment me?"

  "On and on, I be yammering about how I be trying to help ya." Elia replied. She patted Mea's head. "Came here to be giving ya a choice and all. Maybe even see what ya did to the girl I been thinking of as me daughter."

  "We're not family," Mea retorted.

  "And forever that being the shame of this here universe. Nah, me choice being simple. Ya be trading me all those books ya love so dearly, and I be letting ya have another crack at Stehlan. Maybe ya and Telia can go and travel the universes like yar heart be hoping."

  Mea squinted and put her hand on top of Elia's. Goosebumps skated across her skin and the shower's warmth had all but disappeared. If the captain tried to crush her skull, she would put up a fight, at least. "I don't know a 'Telia,'" she said.

  "That be Tath's birthing name," Elia advised. "Telia Morehouse. Best be knowing yar lover before ya be taking her home to the judging gaze of yar mom."

  Mea filed the information away for later use and asked, "What's the second option?"

  "Ya grieve, ya cry, ya fight and ya live. I keep Stehlan right here, and ya get to go home after he be having a full and wholesome life. He be free from friends like ya and torturers who be posing as scientists. Ya be back a little late but with yar hands clean and conscience sparkling like the water high up on the mount'."

  "That seems like a simple choice."

  "Aye."

  "How would you like me to give you the books?"

  Elia's grip tightened, making Mea scream out in pain and thrash around as she tried to remove the captain's hand. The world swam in front of her and stars flickered across her vision.

  A moment later, the pressure was gone. "So, that be yar answer," Elia said. She spat into the running water circling the drain. "Stehlan told me ya'd changed. Said that ya'd given up on being better than the rest of them destiny meddlers. Didn't be believing him, but that boy be sharper than I been giving him credit for.

  "I been wrong about ya, Meagh Tristan," Elia continued. "Ya ain't me daughter. Ya never been. And I ain't wanting to be seeing ya on this here vessel ever again."

  Mea realized why the Serpent had coiled around in her stomach; it had been trying to warn her this was all a test. There had never been any physical danger to her life. It had been something else entirely. Mea shut the shower off. "When can I talk to him?" she asked, committing to her decision.

  Elia walked out of the cubicle and stood to the side of its entrance. "Any damn time ya be pleasing." Elia threw her a towel. "Ya bring those books to me cabin, and ya can have yar murder. And I be having me sadness."

  11:27am: Azra [P. Watcher 18034568X]

  Everything is fine here. We are having a party full of fun and joy.

  9:37pm: Junko [Channel 37A4R]

  Not sure why you're having a party so soon after a friend committed suicide. WTF is wrong with your group? (¬_¬)

  Anyway, I doubt Steh was a Starfire. Even the worst of them can teleport, and despite his celestial powers, he couldn't open a portal. Sorry, Az. That sucks. (>__<)

  Seventeen: The Method

  AS PER JETTA'S command, Agra waited for her on the external walkway as they departed Samarinda. To distract himself from inspecting every inch of the shield to discover where Steh had fallen, he focused on the fading town. It was undergoing another rebirth, the League of Learners seeking to mesh pre-Cataclysm
structures with woodland architecture. Trees had been magically induced to grow hundreds of meters and then hollowed out to make room for apartments, shops and entertainment spaces. Called "mega-groves" by their inventor, they were interspersed between old concrete apartment complexes and skyscrapers. Banners streamed from their branches promoting Leaguer philosophies in written text. They argued cultures had a right to use the new resource, magic, as they saw fit without oversight from the United Country. Agra predicted the town would either discover how to express the same sentiment in pictures or there would be nothing but ashes and tombs when he returned.

  "White people and their love of war," he mumbled. Out the corner of his vision, he noticed a couple in their forties staring at him with their mouths agape. Like most melanin-deprived folk on summer vacation, they wore colorful shirts and pants far too high for their hips. Their rose complexions slowly reddened as they marched over, their age reflected in all the wrinkles they had earned from not moisturizing.

  "What did you say?" the woman said, her voice snippy but also quivering. "Fredrick, tell this young man I will not put up with him disparaging our race."

  Fredrick pulled at his jutting nose and scratched his wildly bushy monobrow. "Look, sir, I'm not sure how you do it in your neck of the woods, but racism is a thing we ain't encouraging no more. It's got to stop, and we all have to do our part. Your kind needs to as well … if you are sincere about ending the violence."

  Agra knew better than to engage. There was nothing to be gained from fighting sanctimonious bigots post-Cataclysm except a significant amount of yelling. No-one could convince them they still had white supremacist seeds in their hearts, and they had no power over him. Even if the encouragers of the United Country were called upon to punish Agra, the harmonizers would laugh at the racists' claims and check to see if he wished to press charges against them. So, he knew better, but he could not stop himself because Steh had yet to rise from the grave.