Glen shrugged. "Fear of death makes you rationalize crazy actions, I suppose. Not to worry, we still have plenty of talented singers and musicians on hand."
"Quite right," said Hadder, but in his heart, he knew the concert wouldn't be the same without Station's two most angelic voices. He changed subjects. "You feel ready, my friend?"
"Brother, I've been ready. I may look like a million bucks, but I feel like a shit-covered penny. I'm tired and heavy, with two lives being held together by one old body. But don't you worry, I'm spry enough to take a couple of Risers with me before it's all said and done." Glen thought for a moment. "You think there's any chance we win? And if so, what happens next?"
Having witnessed the ferocity and fighting prowess of the Risers firsthand, Hadder thought very little of their chances but saw no reason to piss on his friend's glimmer of hope. "There's always a chance, Glen. And if we do, showing our passion for these second lives, maybe Mister Rott keeps the city alive. Maybe he'll be curious to see if the process repeats itself, if another Riser faction crops up in time."
Glen simply nodded. Sometimes men just need the slightest of openings to keep pushing with all their might. Glen got up on obviously stiff legs. "I'm gonna go get ready. How bout you?"
Hadder continued to stare, past the lawn, to the Grasslands, where most, if not all, of his friends would meet their bloody fates. "Are the Elevation Centers still open, Glen?"
"I would assume so. It seems like the manikins are going about like everything's hunky-dory. Business as usual for them. Why?"
"Just asking. Look, I gotta take care of something, but I'll see you at the Great Goodbye."
"Everything ok, brother?"
"Just something I think I should do." Hadder's voice was distant, as if he was already on the Grasslands.
The Great Goodbye was everything it was hoped to be and more. The porch was transformed into an outdoor stage, where Station's remaining musical talents wowed the gathered residents with heartfelt renditions of everyone's favorite songs. More manikins than ever seen crisscrossed the lawn and made their ways in and out of the Bar, delivering a potpourri of drink and smoke to the celebrating Setters. People danced, hugged, and kissed throughout the Haela, giving thanks for second life friends and experiences.
Arriving a bit late, Hadder was given a king's welcome as he stepped out onto the lawn. McKintosh Reed greeted him with a handshake and a slap on the shoulder, his Elevated dreadlocks still moving of their own accord like octopus legs in the ocean. Yasmin Dash, her elegant wings tucked neatly behind her, kissed Hadder deeply as he passed through, returning to her sensual dancing as soon as he moved on.
"Old chap! Old chap!" Hadder looked past several residents to discover Jonny VV calling him from a leather couch that had been brought from inside. The two old friends embraced, held each other for a long while before separating.
"Good to see you, Jonny."
"Hadder, drink with me, old sport." He handed Hadder a glass of crimson liquid. Hadder didn't care to ask what Number it was. "To Reena Song. Always and forever."
"Cheers to that."
The two friends sat for some time, exchanging stories from Hadder's early months in Station. Jonny told a few tales of Reena Song from before Hadder's arrival, and the two men smiled dumbly together, feeling as if their lost friend was sitting there next to them. "You think she's in a good place, Hadder?"
Hadder didn't need time for his response. "I think if there's a heaven or some other utopian next life, Reena Song is there now, waiting for you."
Tears welled in the flamboyant man's eyes. "Thanks, Hadder." Jonny VV looked to his right, and his eyes went wide. Hadder followed his eyes to a beautiful young woman dancing provocatively in a miniskirt. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I plan on ending the Great Goodbye in the arms of another, and it won't be you, old chap. No offense."
Hadder laughed. "None taken. Go get her, Jonny."
Hadder spent the next few hours bouncing from group to group, sharing in stories, drink, and smoke. On one couch, he found Monty the Mod, offering his beloved Ophidian to any who showed interest. Hadder moved next to the small man. "Monty. Happy you made it. I mean that. How's the jaw?"
Monty looked up, his face giving nothing away. "Marlin Hadder. The man who stole any hope for extra time in my city. The jaw's fine, thanks for asking."
"Monty, I…"
"Stop. This Haela is not for that. Here, she misses you." Monty held up the Ophidian towards Hadder. The serpent raised its body and froze at face level with Hadder, who breathed in deeply as the snake opened its maw and released its powerful smoky breath. "Goodbye, Marlin Hadder."
"Goodbye, Montgomery Walls."
The party continued, rising to a feverish pitch as drugs took hold, old friends became reacquainted, and new friends were made. Hadder, a crazed smiled pasted on his face from the Ophidian, made his way towards the stage, feeling a fundamental need to be close to the music. Several residents were on the porch, playing instruments with practiced fingers, driving the crowd into a frenzy. Hadder danced frantically with everyone around him, feeling the same camaraderie that helped pull him from the darkest time of his two lives. In short order, Hadder was out of breath and thankful as the set concluded and the music died down.
Hadder began chatting with a man when a scream from the crowd brought his eyes to the stage once more. Inexplicably, Glen was crossing the porch to stand before the microphone, his thick beard glistening with sweat. A twinge of nervousness struck Hadder, desperately hoping his friend wouldn't make a drunken fool of himself. Glen called out to the band behind him, and the woman on guitar began the first notes of "Simple Man." Seconds later, a second lead guitar joined in, and the song was underway. Glen took the mic stand in his hands and leaned forward. "This is for my good friend and brother, Royal Winters." Glen went on to release the song's first lyrics, his voice vibrant and clear, and the equal of any recording Hadder had heard. The lawn erupted in applause, delighted to discover that one of the city's most beloved figures stowed away a hidden talent.
"I had no idea he could sing," said a woman next to Hadder as the crowd quieted to better hear Glen.
"Me neither," replied Hadder as he looked over to the owner of the voice. The young woman he found there was stunning, with porcelain skin and a full head of wavy red hair that fell down her back. Although her arms and legs were covered with tastefully done tattoos, one, in particular, drew Hadder's attention. The middle of her forehead was decorated with the image of an elaborate key. Beneath the art, Hadder was able to make out the faint lines of a scar. A memory tickled his brain before clicking into place. "What's your name?"
"I'm called Coral. You're Marlin Hadder."
"I am. Nice to meet you. By the way, Shirley says hello."
The young woman's face contorted in confusion before realization hit her like a Caesar’s hammer. She instinctively reached up to touch the scar on her head. Hadder gently caught her wrist. "Long journey we took just to end up at the same Bar again."
Coral smiled coyly. "Must be fate."
"And who are we to fight fate?"
"We're nobody."
"Exactly."
Coral and Hadder went on to dance throughout the night, joined by Glen and another young woman once his set concluded. They danced, they hugged, they kissed, and they laughed. At the party's apex, Hadder was forced to take the stage, address those in attendance. With a headful of drugs and a swollen heart, he had no choice but to speak the truth.
"My fellow residents of Station. I want to thank each and every one of you. Not just for coming out this Haela, but for sharing your lives with me. Like many of you, I was a husk of a man when I came to this strange city. While it's never easy to find the broken pieces of yourself, much less to put them back together, this city and many of you helped me do just that. I would be lying if I said this place was without pain, for what life is worth living without pain. But we all forged on past the pain that we carried here with us, made new home
s in our reset realities. I'm proud of what we did here. I'm proud of the improvements some of us made and the lives we created. Tomorrow, we'll prove our love for this city, prove that we are passionate about our second chances. Prove that everyone can change for the better. I love you all and will gladly end my second life among you. Now find someone you care about and show them how much you appreciate their place, however small, in your life. Long live the Setting and long live Station!"
Applause began slowly, with many residents wiping moisture from their eyes, but built to a crescendo of ovation. As Hadder stepped away from the microphone, music returned in full as the Great Goodbye continued. Walking down the porch stairs, Hadder looked past the back of the lawn, where deep in one of the dark pathways, two red embers took in the festivities. Hadder met those embers with his own eyes, watched as they faded away into the shadows.
As the Great Goodbye began to wind down, pairs, trios, quartets, and more slunk off to find more private quarters. Coral and Hadder followed suit, discovered their own intimate space deep inside The Royal Jelly. There, they shared each other without reservation, allowing fear to be replaced with lips and skin, fingers and tongues. Even if for only a single night, the two residents found real comfort in each other's naked embraces, felt truly at home.
CHAPTER 28
Marlin Hadder basked in the rays of the Solay as he anxiously fingered the handle of the ornate samurai sword that hung from its equally decorated scabbard at his hip. A gentle breeze drifted through the Grasslands, caressing the thousands of faces that dotted the open field. The Rage slowly moved forward within Hadder, readying itself to take full control. Hadder took a deep breath and smiled.
It was a good day to die. Again.
To his right, Glen nervously shifted his museum-quality flanged mace from one hand to the other. To his left, Jonny VV's knuckles went white as he tightly gripped a bone-handled rapier, looking more at home in a fashion show than on a battlefield. Both men shook with fear, although Glen was doing a much better job of covering it. Hadder couldn't blame either man.
The Riser army was more impressive than even Hadder had anticipated, gathered all together for the first time on the eastern side of the Grasslands, their numbers now exceeding the Setters by two to one. The Risers shined like diamonds, the large Idol Moon reflecting loudly off countless sharp metal edges. The Setters also glittered, light bouncing off of the various self-made and Lester Midnight-provided blades. But while the Setters carried weapons, the Risers were weapons. Spiked knuckles, bladed elbows and knees, and encased heads screamed under the bright Solay, begging for the opportunity to darken under a coat of Setter blood.
Above the ocean of Risers, four figures towered over the others. In addition to Dom and Tiberius, the twin albinos Vespa and Vitellius had forsaken their duties as Caesars to join the Riser revolution. With six Caesars to the Risers' four, the Station loyalists still held the advantage in that regard, but it was much more slight than initially hoped.
Standing front and center, shouldering a broadsword the size of a child, was The Krown. The beast stared directly at Hadder, his jade eyes blazing with the promise of pain and sorrow. While most Setters trembled, The Krown quietly chuckled, basking in the moment, his greatest so far as a king.
Hadder tore his gaze from The Krown to look up and down his makeshift group of defenders. Their six Caesars stood emotionless, equally spaced down the frontlines. The only Caesar that Hadder could remotely consider a friend, Cal, stood closest, only six Setters to his left. Cal looked down at Hadder and nodded, slapping his two swords together. Hadder continued to look back and across the Grasslands, praying for any signs of Albany Rott. There were none.
A familiar and welcome voice came at the perfect time, preventing resignation from taking hold. "Sorry, we're late, darling." Cutting through the Setter lines, Lester Midnight appeared behind Hadder with Gondo in tow. "I'm afraid I'm guilty of longwinded farewells, and my Biomass was hard to leave behind."
Hadder smiled at both men, shook their hands. "Just happy you're here, Lester. Good to see you, Gondo." The bone-hawked man nodded in return as he took off his suit jacket and let it drop to the ground, showing almost a dozen daggers tucked into his belt. In his right hand, the large man expertly held a metal police baton. True to form, Lester Midnight carried the most fanciful scimitar Hadder had ever seen. Hadder forced himself to look away lest he got caught up admiring the inlays and scrollwork. "Thanks again for the weapons, Lester. Beautiful work."
Lester smiled broadly. "Oh, just wait until you see them in action, darling."
A voice from across the Grasslands demanded Hadder's attention. It seemed The Krown tired of the dramatic standoff. "Marlin Hadder! Brave of you to join us. I must admit, I thought we would waste months ripping coward Setters from their Bars. I appreciate you expediting the process. Your recognition of the inevitability of the Fall pleases me. Not as much as your head hanging from my neck will, but still." The Krown kept his eyes squarely on Hadder but spoke to his followers. "Risers! No prisoners. No survivors. No mercy. They are all that stand between us and these walls, which will crumble soon. Go take your freedom! It can be found in the chest of a Setter!"
The Risers released a loud, singular roar that ripped across the Grasslands; Hadder could almost feel their unified breath on his cheek. Riser captain Wagner stepped out from the screaming mass, walking forward to stop in the center of the two groups, a long saber dangling from his right hand, trailing the tusked man. "Which of you weak men will taste my blade first? Come to me. Don't worry about the women you leave behind. I will tongue their cheeks before I take their heads."
Wagner's words rang hollow to Hadder, but they deeply triggered something in his friend Jonny VV, who sprinted forward, a primal cry emanating from his soul. Hadder tried to grab his fragile friend's shoulder, but reacted too slowly, catching only air in his gloved hand. Instead, he watched wide-eyed as Jonny ran towards the Riser, rapier cocked back in his right hand, quickly covering the seventy-five feet.
As he neared Wagner, Jonny thrust forward with his slim rapier, putting all the anger, fear, and sorrow he had into that blinding lunge aimed for the Riser's chest. Unfortunately, the tip of Jonny's blade caught only air as Wagner pirouetted in the blink of an eye, pulling his long saber behind him. Jonny flew past his intended target and hit the brakes, intending to spin back to face his enemy. But it was too late.
As Jonny slid to a stop in the grass, Wagner executed a perfect backhand that sent the devilish saber directly through Jonny's waist, neatly cutting the fashionable man in half. As Jonny's bottom half froze immediately, the upper part of the Setter's body flew forward, rolling to a gory stop several feet from the man's legs. A geyser of blood flew upwards from what was left standing of Jonny VV, creating a macabre statue that stole noise from the battlefield.
From behind him, Hadder could hear Lester Midnight comment. "Beautiful."
Seconds later, Jonny VV's legs gave way to gravity and collapsed to the ground, offering the first of what would become many stains on the grassy turf. Hadder held his breath, worried about the effect that Jonny VV's death would have on his army.
His concern was misplaced.
As one, the Setters howled in rage, furious at the death of the well-liked Jonny VV. Hadder released the last few threads of control, allowing the Rage to guide him, drive him. He merged his Rage with that of the group, drew his samurai sword, and held it up to the Idol Moon. "For Station!" Hadder screamed, and the Setters moved forward as one. The Risers met the roar with one of their own and launched their assault.
The Battle for Station was on.
There was no thinking, only reacting to the chaos that surrounded Hadder. Red mist hung on each breeze through the Grasslands, forcing Hadder to continually wipe his eyes. During one such wipe, a knife flew from the mass of fighting, aimed for Hadder's throat. He lurched sideways at the last second, and the blade cut a deep chasm in Hadder's neck, narrowly missing his carotid artery.
"Fuck!" Hadder yelled, his hand reflexively going to his wounded neck. When his hand returned wearing a crimson glove, Hadder's Rage rose a level, forcing him to wade into a trio of Risers. The first Riser was trying to communicate with her companion, working to refine their fighting strategy. Hadder's samurai sword sliced downward angrily from the side to land just behind the forehead, and the woman's face slithered off her head, leaving the other Riser to stare into an open nasal cavity. The shocked male Riser tried to react, but Hadder had already begun a backswing that tore open the man's throat and created a waterfall of blood that cascaded down his bare chest.
The final Riser moved in quickly, swinging an arm that had been transformed into a wicked-looking blade below the elbow. With Hadder's sword out wide from the vicious backhand, he was utterly exposed, unable to get his weapon back in time to parry the strike. Hadder tensed, waiting for the cold steel to penetrate his body.
Instead of stabbing pain, however, Hadder felt only swift air as something flashed before him too quickly to register. The Riser howled, and a moment later, Hadder was hit with a stream of warm blood from the stump of his arm. Both Riser and Hadder looked down to see the arm-blade on the ground, then looked again at each other. Hadder shrugged, and the Riser's head flew from its shoulders as Lester Midnight completed his kill. "Stay sharp, darling. I may not be there next time." Having saved Hadder's life, Lester rejoined the battle, moving like quicksilver as he floated from one Riser to the next, giving out five wounds for each one he received.
With some space now around him, Hadder took a moment to evaluate the battlefield. Lester Midnight's cache of weapons was having a more substantial impact on the battle than Hadder had anticipated. Although more aggressive and experienced, the Risers were enduring an unforeseen disadvantage in that many of their homemade weapons were shattering when encountering Lester Midnight's superior craftsmanship.
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