by TJ Klune
“It’s almost time,” Peter said. “Time for me to keep my promises made to my people. We will rise to the spacecraft in Markham-Tripp, and we will be free of this place. One last thing remains to ensure our success.”
He walked back toward the table, opening the cylinder of the gun. Spun it around. It clacked and echoed in the room. The basement. They had to be in the basement. Behind that metal door with the padlock.
Peter showed Nate the contents of the cylinder. Five chambers were empty. One had a bullet inside. He did the same for Alex, though Alex’s eyes were still unfocused. Peter spun the cylinder again before snapping it closed. He set the gun on the table between Nate and Alex. “Don’t touch that,” he said.
And then he walked away toward a door in the wall to the right.
Get the gun.
Get the gun.
Get the gun.
Get the gun get the gun get the gun GET THE GUN GET THE—
He didn’t move.
He stared at it.
He wanted it more than anything.
But he didn’t move.
“Nate,” Peter said. “Alex. Would you look at me, please?”
They both turned their heads.
In the open doorway, standing next to Peter, was Artemis Darth Vader.
Her eyes were wide. Her face was wet. And she looked furious.
Good, Nate thought. Good. Good. Good.
But upon her head sat a halo of sorts. It was black and metal, and wires were attached to it that ran down her arms, the ends of which ran into filmy white electrodes stuck to her bare skin.
And she was shaking, her hands like claws, her fingers spasming out into hooks.
She was being electrocuted.
He knew what it was.
He’d seen something like it before, though it’d been more sophisticated.
“A trick,” Peter said, his speech slightly slurred. “Something I learned within the Mountain. It’s crude but effective. It… contains her. Her telekinesis. She is, in all sense of the word, trapped. But she will be free. She will lead us home.”
He forced her to take a step forward. Her mouth twisted, her little legs shaking. Her eyes started to roll back in her head, and she gave such a cry of pain and fury that Nate reached for the gun and raised it and fired it and killed Peter right where he stood and—
The gun sat in the middle of the table untouched.
Peter brought her in until she stood next to the table. The camera was trained on all of them.
“I want to go home,” Peter said quietly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I want to go home. Take us, Artemis. Take us away from here.”
“I can’t,” Artemis said through gritted teeth. “I can’t.”
Peter sighed. “This can be easy. I promise you. Please don’t make me do what you know I’m capable of.”
“There’s no ship,” she spat at him.
“You lie,” he snarled at her. “I’ve seen it. I’ve seen what’s in your head because you put it in mine. Markham-Tripp is a harbinger. It is a sign. I know it’s time. I know they’re coming for you. Why else would you be here? Why else would you seek me out if it wasn’t to take us home?”
The cords in Art’s neck stood out as she tilted her head back, the wires attached to her pulling against the electrodes. “I came here,” she said, hands jerking. “Because it was the right thing to do. Because I took so much from you. I came here. To say I’m sorry. To tell you that I care about you. That your world is harsh and unforgiving, but there is so much beauty in it if you only know where to look. I felt it. Your pain. Your uncertainty. Even long after you were gone. I didn’t come here to take you home. I came here to show you that you already were home.”
“No,” Peter said, head snapping side to side furiously. “No. No. No. Not true. Not true. I know what this is. I know what all of this is. This is a test. This is another test to prove my faith. To show you what I am willing to do. I accept. I will prove to you how far I am willing to go.” He looked at the camera. “I will show you all.”
Then, “Alex. Look at me, please.”
Alex did, eyes cloudy.
“There is a gun in front of you. Nod if you understand.”
Alex nodded.
“There is one bullet inside. We are going to play a game. Alex, I want you to pick up the gun. I want you to point it at Nate’s head. Do it now.”
“Alex!” Art cried. “Don’t. Please don’t do this. Please.”
Nate felt little jolts in his head, like something was trying to burst through the fog. He thought he heard Art screaming somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, but it was so inconsequential to him.
Alex put his hand on the tabletop.
He slid it until his fingers bumped into the gun.
He picked it up.
He pointed it at Nate. Right at his head.
“Take us to your ship,” Peter said to Art.
“There’s no ship! There’s no ship! There’s no ship!”
Peter sighed. “Alex, pull the trigger.”
Alex did.
There was a dry click.
Nate barely flinched.
“One down,” Peter said. “Five to go. Alex. Give the gun to Nate. Nate, take the gun from Alex.”
Alex’s hand was trembling as he held the gun toward Nate. His mouth was in a tight line. His eyes were narrowed.
Nate took the gun from him.
“Nate, point the gun at Alex.”
“No,” Nate managed to say, but he couldn’t stop his arm from rising. Couldn’t stop his finger from wrapping around the trigger.
“Devil’s Breath,” Peter said. “It’s really rather fascinating. Takes away your choices. Your free will. While it’s in your system, you will do as you’re told. Nate, shoot Alex.”
Alex stared at him.
Nate’s finger tightened on the trigger.
Art said his name, but it was lost under the electrical snap of electricity coursing through her.
Nate pulled the trigger.
The hammer fell.
click
“How fascinating,” Peter said. “Nate, put the gun on the table.”
Nate did.
“Do you see now?” Peter asked Art, a hand in her hair. “What I’m willing to do for you? What I am capable of? Please, take us home.”
“There’s nothing there,” Art said, voice breaking. “Peter—Oren—I wouldn’t lie to you. I would do it if I could. But there is nothing there.”
He backhanded her across the face.
Her head snapped back.
“You lie,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ve seen it. I saw it. The lights in the sky. The night you came for me. The night you chose me. I saw it. You said they would come back for you. You said it would come again. And I know it’s almost here. I can feel it.”
“There’s no ship!” she shouted at him. “That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works. Those lights? They weren’t a fucking ship.”
“Alex,” Peter said coldly. “Pick up the gun and shoot Nate.”
Alex did as he asked. The gun was pointed at Nate’s head almost quicker than he could blink. He pulled the trigger.
click
“Three left,” Peter said. “One of them will die unless you do it and do it now. Is this what you want? Do you want to see one of them with a bullet in their head? How could you do this? How could you let this happen?”
“Alex,” Art pleaded. “Fight. Please fight this and—”
Her head snapped back again as Peter pressed a button on the side of the halo. Her eyes rolled back into her head. A thin string of spit dripped down her chin.
“Gun on the table, Alex.”
The gun went on the table.
“Nate, pick up the gun.”
Nate picked up the gun.
Through the fog, there was an image of flowers blooming in a field. Of rocks skipping on a l
ake. Of sleeping in the back of a truck under a sea of stars.
Of Alex. His big hands. Standing behind Art, braiding her hair.
The fog was cracking.
“Shoot Alex,” Peter said.
Nate’s finger tightened on the trigger.
And he thought, What if I don’t want to?
What am I doing?
Why am I—
Nate was seated at the table in the cabin. Art was next to him, plate piled high with bacon. Alex set down a cup of coffee in front of Nate, made just how he liked it. He felt Alex lean down and press a kiss to the side of his head.
“It’s okay,” Alex whispered in his ear. “I promise. It’s okay. I forgive you.”
He pulled the trigger.
click
Alex sat down across from him at the kitchen table.
Art said, “What should we do today?” through a mouthful of bacon.
Alex shrugged as he took a sip of coffee. “Whatever we want.”
“Really?” Alex asked, eyes wide. “Whatever we want?”
“Sure. That all right with you, Nate?”
Nate nodded. He was crying, but it didn’t matter. “That’s all right with me.”
Alex reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “In case—you have to know. I—I’m not very good. At this. With you. But you have to know. Nate, I—”
Peter said, “Alex, take the gun from Nate.”
Alex did.
“Point it at Nate’s head.”
Alex did.
“Are we going on an adventure?” Art asked them at the kitchen table, eyeing their clasped hands gleefully.
“Yeah,” Alex said, a soft smile on his face. “Yeah, I think we are.”
“And we’re going to go together, right?”
“Together,” Nate said.
“Alex,” Peter said. “Pull the—”
“Wait.”
Nate blinked slowly in the basement of the farmhouse.
“What is it?” Peter asked, looking down at Art.
“I’ll do it,” she said. “I’ll take you. Just… please. Don’t hurt them. Please don’t hurt them.”
The fog was burning away.
He saw how red his skin got when Alex’s stubble rubbed against it.
He saw them sitting in a diner in the middle of nowhere, Art smiling widely at the waitress.
There were bison roaming fields, larger than any of them expected.
And they were together. All of them were together. It was Nate and Art and Alex, and they were singing along with the radio, they were on the dock at the lake, they were running for their fucking lives, but they were together, always together, the three of them.
“It’s why I chose you,” Art told them through all the shifting memories. “It’s why I chose the both of you. You made me a home out of nothing. Out of a place where one should not exist. You carried each other until your knees gave out and you stumbled. I didn’t get that at first. I don’t think anyone can. Not until they know what it means to be human. We’re not alike. Not really. We’re separated by time and space. And yet, somehow, we’re all made of dust and stars. I will never forget that. You will never be alone because I will always be with you.”
“I will take you to the ship,” Art told Peter in the basement. “I will take all of you to the ship in the tail of the comet.”
“You will?” Peter asked, eyes bright. “I knew you would see it my way. I knew you would—”
“I know,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand. “I know you did. And I’m sorry I let it get this far. Please, Peter. Take this thing off me, and I will lead you all home.”
He nodded. He reached out and pulled the electrodes off her arms. They dangled down around her shoulders, hanging from the halo. He turned the screw that fastened the halo to her head. The metal creaked but loosened. He pulled it off and let it fall to the floor.
“All I ever wanted,” he told her as he fell to his knees in front of her, “was to leave this place.”
“And you will,” she said, cupping his face with one hand. “I’m sorry that it took me so long. I didn’t understand what I was capable of. I do now.”
He leaned into her palm. “It’s okay.”
The fog parted with the rays of bright, bright sunlight.
Nate saw Alex’s eyes clear across from him.
The barrel of the gun wavered.
And from above them came a sound that Nate couldn’t quite place.
A hum, like an electric current.
The farmhouse around them began to shake.
“When we were connected,” Art said quietly, “I could hear you. And you could hear me. Do you remember?”
Peter nodded.
“And I knew your thoughts. When I was taken from you, I couldn’t hear them anymore. It was very quiet for a long time. But I learned you, Oren. Even now, I know what you’re thinking.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Tell me. Tell me what I’m thinking.”
“Nothing,” Alex growled as he pressed the barrel of the gun against the side of Peter’s head.
He pulled the trigger.
The gun fired.
Peter jerked to the side, a small arc of blood trailing behind him.
He fell to the floor, staring sightlessly toward the ceiling.
“I’m sorry that it had to come to this,” Art told him quietly. “But I would never let you hurt them.”
“Nate,” Alex said sharply as he stood. He wobbled a little before catching himself. “Nate.”
Nate looked up at him.
“Are you with us?”
“Yeah. Yes. It’s… I’m okay.”
“Good. We have to go. Now.”
The walls were trembling.
“What’s going on?” Nate asked, throat dry. “Is this—is this you?”
Art shook her head slowly. “No. That’s not me.”
And from above them came the sound of a small explosion.
“Fuck,” Alex muttered. He crouched down next to Peter, grabbing his hand and putting the gun against it, curling his fingers around the grip. Alex stood and moved quickly toward the stairs that led to the metal door.
The frames on the bunk beds rattled. Dolores’s hand slid from her chest and hung off the side.
“They found us,” Art whispered.
“Who?” Nate asked.
She said, “The water guy. The Enforcer. The—”
Her head rocked back.
Her mouth opened and worked.
Her eyes went opaque.
She stood rigid, as if once again electrified.
“Art?” Nate whispered.
He reached out for her. He took her hand in his. He felt the little bones beneath her skin and—
chapter eighteen
It was white.
Everything was white.
His eyes were (weren’t) open.
He was (wasn’t) human.
He didn’t understand.
But there were voices in his head, whispering numbers and letters, lines and colors. They were pulsing, and there were so many of them, thousands, hundreds of thousands. It was too much. He felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out. He could see everything. He could feel everything. Nate opened his mouth to scream, but it came out as a shape, a spinning triangle that looked as if roots were growing out of it.
He couldn’t qualify what he was seeing. Hearing. Feeling. Nothing made sense.
He heard another voice, somewhere inside. It said, “Nate” and “Nate” and “You have to let go, you have to let go” and he—
He snapped his eyes open.
He was pressed against Alex’s chest, big arms wrapped around him, holding him close. Art stood next to them. The thumpthumpthump of the helicopter above was fainter, but it still shook the walls. Footsteps sounded on the floors above them, feet pounding against the wood. There had to be dozens of people
in the house.
“What the hell was that?” he whispered.
“Home,” Art said, expression pinched. “They’re calling me home. It’s almost time.” She shook her head. “You could have been killed.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know. But it was… a lot. Even for me.” She looked toward the ceiling again. “They’re coming.”
“What do we do?” Nate asked, closing his eyes and breathing Alex in. He was exhausted.
“The door is locked from the inside,” Alex said. “It’s made of reinforced steel. It’ll take the Mountain time to get in.”
“But it won’t hold them forever,” Art said. She sighed. “There’s no other way out, is there? No other door?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Alex said, holding Nate even tighter. “As long as your people get you out of here, the rest doesn’t matter.”
Nate opened his eyes.
Art was staring up at Alex as if betrayed. “What?”
Alex squeezed Nate before letting him go. Nate stepped back, hands shaking.
Alex crouched down in front of Art. She glared at him fiercely. “Why did we do this?” he asked her.
There was a banging on the metal door.
“No,” she growled at him. “No. Stop. You stop it right now. You hear me? You don’t get—”
“Art.”
She shook her head and took a step back, just out of reach.
“You need to listen to me,” he said. “The whole reason we did this, the reason we came this far, was to find you a way home. That’s the only thing that mattered.”
She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “No. Stop. Alex, please stop.”
“And I told you that if something happened to me, you would need to keep going. Do you remember? You promised me.”
“Well, I didn’t mean it,” she snapped. “I’m not leaving you behind. I won’t do that. I won’t.”
“You need to go home,” he said roughly. “Nate and me. We can handle ourselves. Okay? Just… go.”
“Shut up, Alex. Shut up. Shut up.”
“Art—”
“No! And you just lied to me.”
“I’m not lying about—”
“You did. You lied. You said the reason we did this was to get me home. That that was it. That that was the only thing that mattered. That’s not true.”