by Erin Grey
Aidon was thoroughly bemused. “Everything you just said is exceedingly strange,” he mumbled.
“You obviously don’t have dentist equivalents. What do you do when you have a problem with your teeth? Diseased gums?”
“Diseased …? I have not heard of anyone experiencing such a problem. But if we are sick, there are many with different types of healing powers who can help.”
“What about crooked teeth?”
He shrugged. “Again, I have not heard of that happening. But some healers and Manipulators can set bones. I assume they could do the same with the teeth or jaw.”
“It sounds like things are perfect here. Do you ever get sick?”
His brow clouded. “I was sick. Once. But only because I was forced to …” He clamped his mouth shut, and his jaw flexed with the gnashing of his teeth.
“I’m really surprised you’ve never needed a dentist, the way you grind those teeth. Now tell me what you were forced to do.”
“You’re talking an awful lot for someone who wanted to rest.”
“He’s not wrong,” said Sandy.
“I could certainly do with a nap,” I said. “But I don’t think I can sleep on this floor.”
“We have to move on now, anyway,” said Aidon. “Got to keep going until we get to the Nereides base.”
“Where’s that?”
He tipped up his chin, indicating a direction I couldn’t possibly know after the winding path we’d followed. “Across the salt pan. Quirinus and Ju should be there already. They followed a more direct route.”
“How long for us to get there?”
“A day’s walk.”
“Still?” I gulped. I understood the meaning of ‘gruelling pace’ now—you kept going until all that was left of you was a gruel-like puddle.
“It’s not all bad news.” He grinned. “The Regulators have lost our trail.” He motioned to his slab. “They’ve been circling back for the past hour.”
Gwendolyn immediately burst into excitement mode, but Jasper reined her in and allowed Sandy her suspicions. “And that’s good?” I asked. “They can’t track my energy anymore?”
“They can’t track it right now. As long as we keep this distance between us, and you and I don’t invoke our energy link, we should be fine.”
Jasper allowed me a small sigh of relief. “Let’s keep working on that distance. I’ll wake Bri, you lead the way.”
“Bri?” chortled Aidon.
“Brianus is too long. He needs a nickname.” I looked at him questioningly. “Isn’t Aidon short for something?”
“Aidoneus,” he replied. “Is Jane short for something, too?”
“No. It’s just Jane. The kind of name that can’t be improved in any way, short or long.” Under my breath I added, “Much like my life.”
Aidon shot me an inquisitive look. “You know, Jane, you say I owe you answers. But I believe it goes both ways.”
I ignored him. “Come on, Bri,” I said, running through the now-familiar ‘waking up Brianus’ routine. “Time to go cross a salt pan.”
Brianus didn’t look refreshed at all. If anything, the rings under his eyes were darker, the green tint of his skin paler, washed out. “Feeling ok, Bri?” I asked, rubbing his back. He ‘humphed’ and turned bleary eyes towards Aidon’s upraised tablet-torch. “Remind me to tell you the story of how the camel got his hump,” I said in a voice that mimicked his grumble. I was feeling quite cheery. Surprisingly cheery.
“I do not recall the last time you were in this spritely mood,” said Jasper. “Perhaps the air here is healthier.”
“Or maybe it’s being with Aidon,” gushed Gwendolyn. “He’s been so awfully nice and kind.”
“You just have a ‘Knight in Shining Armour’ obsession,” said Sandy. “I’m not sure I like this change, though. It’s too sudden and … weird. BIOS?”
>BIOS ACTIVE_
>Loading System Status Update_
>Dopamine: Increase 12.5%
>Serotonin: Increase 9.8%
>GABA: Stable
>Acetylcholine: Stable
>Norepinephrine: Increase 2%
>Glutamate: Increase 4.7%
>Endorphin: Increase 8.5%
>Cortisol: Decrease 25.1%
>Oxytocin: Increase 43%
“That’s … good … right?” asked Gwendolyn.
“It is excellent,” answered Jasper. “We have not seen such positive results after therapy or medications. Perhaps it is all the exercise.”
“Still not sure I like it,” said Sandy.
On we walked, over indeterminable hours and distance. I imagined us as the hobbits and dwarves in Moria, or Lina escaping the City of Ember, or Gertrude the Duck from Journey to the Centre of the Earth, or even the Fraggles of Fraggle Rock12.
“We’re not far from the opening now,” said Aidon. I wanted to hug him. It felt like years since I’d seen the sky.
“The purple sky,” Sandy reminded me. “Don’t get a shock when it’s not blue.”
A low rumble echoed overhead, and a light scattering of dirt fell from the ceiling.
“Bwy?” Emmy sounded worried. Brianus’ pallor had turned the grey-green of sage and he looked more wretched than ever. The only sign he wasn’t a member of the walking dead was the way his left hand pinched his thigh. Every five seconds or so, pinch. Then he’d flinch from the pain.
“Why would he do that to himself?” asked Gwendolyn. “It’s hurting him.”
“Could it be side effects from the drugs wearing off?” suggested Jasper. “Withdrawal?”
“He looks like he’s about to hurl,” said Sandy.
More bits of dirt and stone clattered to the floor, one piece stinging my shoulder as it fell.
“Aidon?” I called uneasily.
“Nothing to worry about,” he responded. “There must be a large animal or two above the tunnel. The vibrations are causing a bit of shift.”
“It is plausible that there would be some unpleasant symptoms as the body expels the last traces of the active ingredient,” said Jasper in response to Sandy.
“I’m sure he just needs a good night’s rest in a comfortable bed,” said Gwendolyn brightly. “Then he’ll be right as rain.”
Large chunks tumbled from above, just missing our heads.
“Aidon?” This time my voice was frantic.
The light rain of dirt became a hailstorm.
“The tunnel is collapsing!” shouted Aidon over the crash of falling rock. “We have to make a run for it!”
We stumbled through the plummeting debris, hardly able to see or breathe through the rising dust. My arms and head smarted from the many projectiles that found their target. I cried out when a massive hunk of compacted clay hit my head, and Aidon grabbed my arm. “Are you ok?” he yelled.
“Keep going!” I yelled back.
We turned a corner, and a flush of light announced the entrance was near. I pushed my legs to pump harder. A section of tunnel collapsed completely behind us, seconds after we’d been in that exact spot.
“Faster!” bellowed Aidon.
I could see the outline of the opening; we were almost on it.
A crash sounded as another portion of tunnel crumbled. The wall of the opening began to cave.
Aidon grabbed a hold of Brianus’ arm and tugged us both forward. A moment later, a moment before the last part of the entrance caved in, we lurched into the open.
Straight into a herd of stampeding Yewnikruns.
“Crap,” said Jasper.
12 There wasn’t a whole lot of entertainment in the passage.
29
BIOS
“Look what the fairies left us!” says the little girl, holding out a small rectangle of card with gold on one side. “Alice said they always leave her messages in her garden, so we wrote them a letter and they wrote back!”
Her big brother takes the card and frowns at it. “Fairies don’t exist.”
“Yes, they do! Look how tiny the writi
ng is.”
“I could have written that,” he scoffs. “I’ll show you.”
He fetches a pencil, and the little girl feels something cold and hard creep over her excitement as he produces letters just as miniscule as the ones on the card. “See,” he says, holding up his work with a smirk. “Alice’s mom probably wrote that card. Fairies are just made up to entertain little kids.”
“But they’re real.” The little girl can’t muster much conviction in her voice. “I want them to be real.” Tears track down her cheek, and a pitiful sob escapes.
“You’re going to cry over a silly fairy that doesn’t even exist? Don’t be a sissy.” He ruffles her hair on his way to the fridge. She hates it when he ruffles her hair.
>Initializing BIOS_
>Imaginative faculty has encountered an internal error. This application will be terminated.
>Operation completed successfully.
>The system has recovered from a serious error. A log of this error has been created.
>The most likely causes for this error are:
> (1) Invalid input
> (2) Emotional configuration corrupted
> (3) A logic exception has occurred
> Choose ‘OK’ to initialize permanent BIOS override_
“Ok,” says the little girl.
30
The bit where the real Brianus turns up
Aidon pulled us back against the now blocked passage entrance. “Dear Arus, Apollus, and Hermus,” he swore.
A flurry of giant bodies, dinosaur-sized feet, and Jurassic-style claws and teeth filled my view. All around us, Yewnikruns leapt and ran, trampling everything in their path. Trees, rock formations, undergrowth—everything was annihilated by the massive beasts. They came from the direction of the tunnel’s roof and fled in a fan before us, blocking any chance of escape. Behind us, the passageway groaned and rumbled. Before long, it would be completely flattened, and with nowhere to hide from the frenzied stream of monsters, so would we.
“Run!” screamed Sandy.
“Hold your position!” roared Jasper.
“Want mommy,” cried Emmy.
“Curl up and die,” howled Mitch.
“Hide behind Aidon,” shrieked Gwendolyn.
>Warning!
>A fatal error has occurred!
>Assume brace position!
The river of Yewnikruns grew thicker. I threw my arms around Aidon. “Thank you,” I shouted in his ear. “Thank you for trying to save us!”
He couldn’t respond. He just held onto my arms and bowed his head.
So much for sacrificing myself to save my family. I would die under the hooves of a herd of alien beasts while my parents starved in the street and—
Brianus pushed himself forward.
“Wait!” I hollered. “Bri, what are you—”
Brianus pounded his head with the bases of his palms. Yewnikruns dashed around him, as though held back by a force field.
Abruptly he flung his arms outwards, and a boom like a thousand canons sounded. I threw my hands over my ears, unable to stand the noise. A flash of light more powerful than all the fireworks ever lit on New Year’s Eve blazed, Brianus at its core, and I slammed my eyes closed, convinced I’d never see again.
A rain of warm goo sprayed over us, along with tiny hard things that stung like the grains of sand on a windy beach. Something large and sharp hit my arm with such force that I cried out and opened my eyes to see a bleeding gash through my ripped sleeve. Aidon slammed his hand over it to staunch the alarmingly fast flow of blood. It hurt.
The blazing light and clamour died away, and I carefully opened my eyes. All around was carnage. The Yewnikruns were nowhere to be seen, but it didn’t take a lot of guessing to realise that the goo coating everything around us was the remains of Yewnikrun entrails, flesh, and blood, while the white shards were teeth, claws, and bone fragments. That must have been what had cut my arm open—a flying bone fragment.
“Wow,” said Sandy.
“Wow,” echoed Emmy.
Brianus knelt with his back to us, shoulders heaving as he gasped in lungful after lungful of air. His arms hung at his sides, still. No twitching, pinching, or jerking.
“He … he …” I stammered.
“I know.” Aidon released his cloth from around his waist and wrapped it, one-handed, around my wound tight enough for me to wince at the pressure. “I think he needs a minutus.”
When Aidon finished seeing to my arm, my legs gave out. I flopped onto my backside, Aidon holding fast to my elbow to prevent a hard landing. Decimated vegetation, exploded trees, and Yewnikrun scraps covered everything in sight.
Gradually, Brianus’ breaths evened out. Hands on his knees, he pushed himself to a standing position and slowly turned around to face us.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Are you insane?” I yelled, jumping to my feet and running to hug him. He didn’t lift his arms or respond at all when I clung to him. “You saved us! We would have been dead if not for you!”
He fumbled for the cloth around my arm. “What’s this?”
I pulled away. “It’s a cut. Something must have hit me during the … explosion … implosion … the thing that just happened. But you saved us.”
“I hurt you,” he said, eyes glued to the cloth through which blood was slowly seeping.
“It doesn’t matter. We’re alive. And it’s all because of you and that amazing energy you have. Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”
“I could have killed you.” Brianus’ body shook.
“Why is he so upset over a small wound?” said Sandy.
“I have no control,” he snapped. “What if something had hit your head? It could have killed you. Or deafened or blinded you.” He started pacing, his hands fisting. “This is why I don’t do this. This is why I need the drugs.”
I grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him to look at me. “Whoa there, buddy! Calm down. You didn’t kill us, and you saved us from a herd of Yewnikruns! We were as good as dead, but you … exploded them or whatever, and more importantly, you didn’t explode us too. We didn’t stand a chance until you did what you did.”
He glanced around at the Yewnikrun remains. “They’re all dead,” he said flatly. “I killed them all. Innocent, harmless animals.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say harmless—”
“I shouldn’t be out of the clinic. I should be locked up where it’s safe, with drugs to control this disease.”
I looked uncertainly at Aidon, totally baffled over what to do. He quietly moved towards us and addressed Brianus. “We’ll get you the help you need. We just need to get to the base first.” He gestured to the right of the blocked tunnel. “It’s a few hours’ walk, that way.”
Brianus nodded miserably, and we began walking.
“He’s sad,” said Mitch. “He feels helpless. Overwhelmed. We’ve felt that before.”
“Oh, but he’s so brave!” cried Gwendolyn. “What a hero, destroying those vile beasts and saving us all!”
“Wile beasts,” said Emmy.
“Told you she has a ‘knight in shining armour’ complex,” scoffed Sandy.
“You ought to speak with him,” said Jasper. “Assure him that his actions are appreciated. Once he accepts that the positive outcomes of the situation outweigh the negative, he will see that he made the only logical choice and be at peace.”
“I don’t think emotions work that way,” said Sandy.
I walked beside Brianus, shivering with adrenaline and searching for the right words. He walked with his head down, his whole body slumped as though he hadn’t an ounce of energy left except to put one foot in front of the other.
“I know you don’t think you did the right thing,” I said gently. “But I appreciate what you went through for us. Thank you.”
He glanced at me for a moment, then went back to his examination of the ground. I assumed that was the end of it, but then he spoke. “It’s happened before
like that.”
I hesitated, unsure whether a response would scare him back into silence. “Mm-hmm?” I tried.
“When I was young, around ten or eleven.” More trudging, more silence.
“And?”
“I destroyed half of our home. Both my brother and sister were severely injured. My brother couldn’t walk for a year.”
“I’m so sorry, Bri. That must have been terrifying for you.”
“I tried not to release the energy again. Not even a little. But then …”
“The tics started,” I guessed.
“Yes. I’d hit my stomach over and over, so hard I’d throw up. Or shout things I didn’t want to say. My parents tried everything: restraints, drugs, exercises …” He shook his head sadly. “Nothing worked.”
“How long,” I asked, “before you went to the clinic?”
“They took me when I was fifteen. I don’t know how long I was there.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “Did your family visit?”
“I don’t know.”
“They didn’t let you see them?”
“No, it’s not that. The drugs are really strong. I don’t know what’s going on around me most of the time. I’m not sure what’s real and what’s imagined.”
“That’s terrible!”
“It’s better than this.” He glared at his hands. “I’d rather be living in a dream world than hurting people.” He looked into my eyes, and his were full of despair. “If I can’t go back, can’t get the drugs, I’ll be better off dead.”
“Oh, that’s just awful!” whimpered Gwendolyn.
“We’ve felt that,” said Mitch. “Death is better for everyone.”
Tears choked my throat as I said, “Aidon told me he could help me, help people who are sick because of their energies. Maybe he can help you too.”
Aidon looked over his shoulder at me, a look that told me nothing, then carried on leading the way. His pace was gentle, I noticed. He was going slow for us.
“I’m going to try to understand this energy I’ve got, this link with Aidon. Maybe we can learn together.”