Station

by Jarrett Brandon Early

  Hadder didn't need to turn his head towards the effeminate, dramatic voice to know who he was talking to. "I notice you didn't rush to butcher your own body to join them, Lester."

  "I concede your point, darling, but allow me to retort. Because of their sacrifice, they are now helpless creatures, only living in the now, only surviving in the name of art. Their shit is responsible for endless, unparalleled beauty. What's your shit responsible for?"

  "Bad smells."

  "The question was rhetorical, darling. Anyways, someone must remain to care for them, to make sure that their sacrifices continue with purpose. Without the beauty of the garden above, this is just an experiment in biology, is it not?"

  Hadder finally looked over at Lester Midnight, taking the man in for the first time. The man was tall and more muscled than Hadder anticipated. He had dark black skin, short white hair, white painted lips and nails. Lester wore a suit of molten gold, reminding Hadder of his friend Goldie, with ankle-length pants that showed off crystal loafers. He wore five earrings in each ear, five severed fingers that had been dipped in gold and swung freely like a morbid mobile. Rings adorned each finger, and his eyes were white on white, with flecks of gold that drifted through his irises. In his right hand, Lester held a solid gold cane, atop of which, cast in crystal, sat a human eye, complete with dangling nerve endings. "And what do you call that freak show in the main exhibit hall?"

  Lester laughed gently and smiled. "Experiments in biology, of course. Come, enough of my art, darling, I want to hear of your own. Or maybe you have something else to discuss, new resident Marlin Hadder? Yes, I know who you are. There is very little that happens in Station that escapes my attention. Somewhere more private, perhaps?"

  Hadder nodded and followed Lester Midnight back up to the garden, through the main exhibit hall, and up some stairs to an expansive office. During their walk, Lester regularly stopped to bask in the adoration of visiting residents, some stating their desires to be the subjects of future projects. Hadder looked around as they entered the large room. Sketches were scattered throughout the room, many which looked like early renderings of H.R. Giger, foretelling the horror of later artistic endeavors. Lester walked to his enormous desk, made seemingly of gold resin and white human bones, spun around dramatically and sat on its edge. "So tell me, Marlin Hadder, why are you here, fellow artiste?"

  There was an obvious sarcasm, an outright challenge in those last two words. "I seek information, a name to be exact. But that could change quickly if I can't find the answers I need. In that case, I may seek something else. Your blood on my hands, perhaps."

  Lester Midnight stared darkly at Marlin Hadder, the golden flecks in his white eyes spinning faster. Hadder watched as Lester's knuckles tightened on his cane and prepared for an attack. He maintained a safe distance and had already identified a thick sketchpad he could turn into an impromptu shield, if needed. Fortunately, it wasn't required, as the storm that roared in Lester Midnight passed as quickly as it came on. He dropped his cane and slapped his hands together in glee.

  "Ahh, that tricky Royal! Always knowing when to play that fucking Key card to force me into something interesting. Of course, I immediately knew you weren't of the art world, but nonetheless, I have to tell you, I am a bit relieved. The last thing I wanted to do was hear about some hack's derivative art. I'm much more interested in what I see before me. Yes, I didn't quite notice it out there, but I see it now. Oh, how I see it. You know what makes me special, Hadder? I see what others cannot or refuse to see. And you know what I see in you?"

  "Tell me."

  Lester smiled and jumped off the desk, stood within arm's reach of Hadder. "I see the newest resident, one who isn't yet resigned to this existence. One who holds onto a Rage that all the joy in the world cannot repress. Rage, one of the purest emotions, one of the few sources of real art. How long has it had you?"

  "It's been there forever, but it just recently took hold."

  "Ahh, and these answers you seek, the questions attached to them are the cause of the takeover?"

  "Yes."

  "How delightful." Lester began to pace around the room. "But before you ask me the question, Hadder, ask me another. Indulge me. What is it you want to know about me? I am nothing if not an egoist."

  Hadder didn't need to ponder a question; it was on the tip of his tongue. "Do you know that you're insane?"

  Lester cackled, slapped his hands together again. "Yes! That's what I like! The Rage has no place for niceties or half-truths. Who told you I was insane? Royal Winters, that boring echo of the Before? Or some other equally terrible Key. I never had much in common with them, you know. They thought me unbalanced, I thought them confused. Do you know why I thought them confused, dear Hadder?"

  "No, tell me."

  "Because. I'm the only person who seems to understand what this place is, darling. Do you know what Station is, Hadder?"

  "Tell me."

  "It is an experiment, a grand experiment, conducted by the divine. It is a way station, a temporary thing. We're meant to push the envelope in our short time here, discover that which we could not in the Before. You can't do that dancing the night away or coupling up and pretending that this is an earthly place. This city had a specific beginning. It will have a specific end. I have maximized my time here, created things never before seen. Where the other Keys have failed, I alone have succeeded. The other Keys are frightened; they want this limbo to continue forever, to live as small gods in their small worlds."

  "And you, Lester? What do you want?"

  Lester stared at Hadder crazily. "I want to create, to feel as the true gods feel until my time is up. Then I will relish in the Fall, and know that in the collapse, I will finally be an integral piece of this overarching project. The telling of the art that is Station will not be able to be told without Lester Midnight. My sacrifice will finally be made real."

  Lester sank into one of the couches, finally drained of that which he had wanted to say for a long time. He waved a hand at Hadder. "Now, give me your real question, darling. Why have you come to me today, Marlin Hadder of the Rage?"

  "There was a girl who was murdered a few Haelas ago at The Soiree Noire."

  "Reena Song."

  "Yes. I think the killer was a Riser that crossed the Skirt. I need to know the Riser's name."

  "And why do you need a name, dear Hadder?"

  "To find him. To kill him."

  "Did you love this girl, dear Hadder?"

  "I loved her. I wasn't in love with her."

  "There's a vast space between those two things. Is it enough? The Rising is usually no place for a plain man like you, even with the Rage walking beside you."

  "It is enough. I cannot resume life until she is avenged."

  Lester rose, put his face close to Hadder's. "And this revenge? What if it jeopardizes the life that you currently enjoy? Actions have consequences, dear Hadder. I am sure that the other Keys fear you; maybe you've seen it in their eyes yourself. You mark a potential imbalance in the city, and imbalance could lead to destruction."

  Hadder sighed deeply, tried to explain that which he did not fully understand. "I cannot be who I was, who the girl I am in love with needs me to be, until this killer is dead. Whatever happens because of my actions, the choices I am determined to make, so be it. I'm cursed, either way, Lester. I'd rather run headlong into the darkness than curl up into a ball and let it slowly eat me from the inside. And I feel the same about Station. If it's as you say, if it has an end, let us rush to it with our heads high, not let it crumble around us as we fight for scraps and become less and less human."

  Lester smiled and put his palm to Hadder's face. "Said like a true harbinger of the Fall. In that case, Marlin Hadder, the man who killed Reena Song is an Elevated wretch named Skeelis. He's a thug for hire and has been bouncing from Bar to Bar for some time now, so I can't tell you exactly where he is located in the Rising. But know this, the Riser Wars have consolidated all the Bars into two main
factions now sparring for control. In South Rising, Ego Rounds holds domain. He is a tough man, but principled, even if those principles are foreign to you and most others. You can work with him. In North Rising, a man who calls himself The Krown runs the show. His Elevations have made an unbalanced man near-insane, more beast than man, so you'll need some luck in getting through to him."

  Hadder turned to leave. With his answer in hand, he didn't want to spend any more time with Lester Midnight than necessary. Lester called to his back. "Oh and Hadder, darling, I hope you don't plan on marching in there and then simply marching out."

  Hadder stopped. "That's exactly what I planned. Why?"

  "Dear boy, once you cross the Skirt, you're barred from returning. You're considered a Riser from then on."

  "What are my options?"

  Lester shrugged, a wry smile caked on his dark face. "Get your revenge and live your life out as a Riser, or make a stop before heading out."

  "Stop where?"

  "Why to see Albany Rott, darling. For certain situations, he may be coerced into providing you with a reentry pass back into the Setting. Or he'll kill you on the spot. Either way, it won't be boring."

  "Thanks, Lester. Don't carve up too many more residents."

  "By the way, love the outfit. Blood red suits you."

  Hadder continued his exit. "I thought if I had to massacre you, best to wear something that would help me pass through your minions unscathed."

  "Don't threaten me with a good time, darling." As he descended the stairs, Hadder heard Lester calling after him. "You're most welcome, Marlin Hadder! Good luck with your Rage and vengeance! I'll see you at the Fall! Oh yes!!! I'll most definitely see you at the Fall!! I'll be the one laughing!"

  CHAPTER 17

  "He's right. If you willingly cross the Skirt, the Caesars won't let you back into the Setting. Unless you're willing to live out your probably short life as a Riser, you're going to need to talk to Mister Rott."

  Much to Hadder's disappointment, Royal had concurred with Lester Midnight's take on the situation. He was hoping to avoid a visit to Mister Rott, was impatient to begin the hunt. And truth be told, Hadder had had enough of needing favors from the barely human, and he didn't know if Albany Rott even qualified as that.

  Lilly retired to their living quarters as soon as Hadder returned. It was deep Haela now, and she had stayed up just long enough to see him still alive. Anything beyond ensuring his continued breathing, she wasn't interested. Hadder understood her anger. If anyone understood anger, it was him, but he had been set on this path and was unable to shift directions until he reached his destination.

  "To the North, right?"

  "Yeah. Just follow the Lethe River up. It emanates from Rott Manor."

  "What's he like?"

  Royal thought for a moment. "Been years since I saw him last, and that was from a distance, just his speech initiating the Skirt. He was much more hands-on in the beginning."

  "What about back then? How was he?"

  Another pause, this one longer. "Rott tries very hard to seem human. He tries very hard to look like he doesn't have all the answers. But he does. He tries very hard to seem interested, but I think he's bored."

  "Any tips on dealing with him?"

  "Yes. Be careful. This isn't some madman like Lester Midnight, whose ego you can feed into and whose desires you can tempt. I know you're a tough guy, Hadder. You've shared your training, and I can see the fighter in you. You walk with a confidence that says you can handle yourself. But if you try to talk tough with Albany Rott, he'll turn you into a pink mist in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but a fading memory. Don't be scared, but don't be disrespectful either."

  "I know when I'm dealing with serious men."

  "But would you know when you're facing a serious god?"

  Before leaving The Royal Jelly, Hadder had a manikin make him a new set of his usual clothes - gray pants, black shirt, black jacket, and black/white high tops. After bathing and changing in one of the empty communal showers, Hadder sat alone at the ground floor bar and drank beer alone. It was nearing the end of Haela, and Hadder didn't want to return to his living quarters. One, he wasn't tired, his single-minded purpose leaving no room for rest. And two, he couldn't face Lilly, especially with no good counterpoints to her numerous objections.

  After finishing his third beer, Hadder walked outside to find that the Idol Moon was snowballing and set out to see Albany Rott. Taking various thoroughfares and garden paths due north, Hadder eventually came upon the Lethe River and followed it upstream, keeping the river on his right. North he went, farther than he ever had before, and before long, his eyes grew large, and his mouth fell open as he looked upon the grandest construct in Station - Rott Manor.

  Although it was called a mansion, Albany Rott's home looked much more like a gothic cathedral. Built of the whitest marble Hadder had ever seen, the building was absolutely shining in the rays of the Solay. Taller than it was wide, two monstrous towers dominated the left and right side of the building, while the center was marked with a rose window above several pointed tympanums that topped large red doors. Situated as it was on a large hill, marble stairs fell to the left and right and ran headlong into footpaths, one upon which Hadder now walked. A torrent of water poured forth from the center of the landing, between sets of stairs, becoming what those lesser folk downstream would call the Lethe River.

  As Hadder traversed the footpath towards the mansion, he passed through an impressive sculpture garden. All of the figures had been hewn from crimson marble and depicted humans, angels, and devils in various poses of battle. As Hadder passed under them, he felt eyes move along to follow his path and wondered what these frozen sentinels could do if they detected a threat to their master.

  As he approached and ascended the stairs, Hadder was greeted by cool mist from the source of the Lethe, the refreshing spray removing the few lingering effects of his earlier beverages. Walking up to the red doors, Hadder brushed his hands over his clothes and calmed his nerves before raising his hand to knock.

  Just as his knuckles were to make contact with the doors, they swung open silently, revealing a man waiting in the entryway. He was small and thin, wearing a white doctor's coat over brown pants and a yellowed dress shirt. His hair, neatly parted to the side, was blonde to the point of near transparency, and his blotchy skin looked like it would burn even under the Idol Moon's soft rays. Behind his John Lennon glasses, pale blue eyes stared out in the world, calculating every variable and determining optimal courses of action.

  But there was something more in those computer eyes, something only someone with a similar affliction could see. Something Marlin Hadder could see all too clearly.

  In the uncomfortable silence, Hadder looked down to see that the man held two books to his side. Hadder cocked his head to read the titles. One was Frank Herbert's God Emperor of Dune, and the other was Jeff VanderMeer's Veniss Underground. Hadder, once an avid reader, was familiar with both books and didn't like what it said about this man that he chose these two dark texts to carry with him like a rosary.

  After a while, the uncomfortable silence grew unbearable. "I'm Marlin Hadder, requesting a meeting with Mister Rott."

  The small man cracked a victorious smile as if he had just won some secret game. "We know who you are. We know why you're here. Follow me."

  The man spun on his heels, and Hadder followed, stepping onto a plush red carpet that ran from the entrance, down the length of the mansion's main room, and up multi-leveled stairs the width of the interior to disappear in the darkened distance of the floor above. Soft classical music greeted Hadder as he entered, coming from hidden niches high in the building's domed ceilings. Looking around as he walked, Hadder marveled at the tapestries that decorated the walls, antiques that sat on small pedestals throughout the room, and handcrafted furniture that looked too expensive and uncomfortable to sit on. As Hadder started up the stairs, he noticed ancient paintings hanging from the walls betwe
en levels, several of which were reminiscent of the works of some of history's most influential artists.

  At the top of the stairs, the man in the doctor's coat spun back to face Hadder, barely able to hide or disguise his disdain. So much for first impressions, thought Hadder as he fantasized about punching a hole in the diminutive man's chest. "Wait here. Don't move." With that, the man moved against the righthand wall, books held in his crossed hands at his belt.

  Hadder did as he was told and remained standing on the red carpet just a few steps from a dangerous fall, staring into the darkness of a long hallway that seemed to have no end. The small man stood against the wall unspeaking, his beady blue eyes fixated on Hadder.

  Hadder chose to ignore the little man, his plate currently full of bizarre characters he had to maintain dealings with. As he looked into the abyss, Hadder worked hard to slow his breathing, a constant battle to control the Rage. Slowly, two towering figures began to emerge from the dimness, walking on either side of the red carpet. As they came into focus, Hadder saw that it was two Caesars who had joined them, just as large and imposing as those he had seen before. The monster on the right had black skin, a silver mohawk, and a clear vest while his companion on the left had beige skin, twin black braids that fell over his shoulders, and a black muscle shirt that swirled with color.

  Approximately fifteen feet from Hadder, both Caesars stopped, crossed their massive arms over too-large chests, and waited, their looks threatening to wither Hadder's confidence. In the quartet's muteness, Hadder noticed that the Caesars observed the small man as closely as they watched him, something to put in his back pocket for later. With no words being exchanged between parties, Hadder simply looked down the endless hall, unsure of what was going to peer out from the darkness.