by KT Belt
“That doesn’t give us much to go on,” Gungnir said.
“No, it doesn’t.”
Just then, Gungnir’s door burst open. It was Carmen, her clothes burnt and frayed. What had Gungnir’s complete attention, however, was the man telekinetically suspended next to her. She dropped him to the ground, doing nothing to blunt the fall. He groaned when he made impact.
“We need to talk,” she said.
Gungnir sat in stunned silence for several seconds. The Clairvoyant couldn’t remember any instance in his life in which this had ever happened. He let out an annoyed sigh.
“I’ll get back to you,” he said to his contact on the phone before he hung up. Then he looked at Carmen. “Who is that bleeding on my floor?”
“The Sentinel,” she said matter-of-factly. The man groaned when she telekinetically wrenched his head to allow Gungnir a better look at his face. One of Gungnir’s eyebrows rose at the news. “Somehow he figured out who I was, followed me back here, and tried to take me out.”
Gungnir looked her up and down, noting her tattered clothes. “Are you—”
“I’m fine,” Carmen said sharply. She glanced down at the Sentinel lying at her feet and sneered. “The scum planted some sort of bomb at my apartment. Completely leveled the building. Killed everyone. There was no warning,” she said, anger tainting her voice. Then she took a deep breath, which did nothing to calm her, before she continued. “If I had just killed him, all those people would still be alive.” It looked like she wanted to say something else, but she allowed her statement to hang on the air like a bad smell. Gungnir watched her. She eventually looked away, wearing a pained expression she wasn’t able to hide.
He nodded slowly and then picked up his phone again. Carmen didn’t know who he called, and she didn’t pay any attention to what he said. The accumulation of the past few hours made her body shake with rage while also making her feel weak.
She was broken of her trance when a security team entered the room. They took the Sentinel away with little fanfare. Carmen didn’t watch and instead considered the one thought that consumed her. It was one impossible thought—the insane idea that had brought her here. Her eyes came to rest on Phaethon’s journal, now slightly burned, still in her hand.
“I need your help,” she said to Gungnir.
“Edge.”
“Yes?” she said quickly.
“I don’t know what you need,” he began. “For the moment, I don’t even care. You should clean yourself up and calm down. Then we can talk.”
Carmen rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I said I was fine.”
“Fine? Just look at yourself. There’s still debris in your hair. You—”
She rolled her eyes again and pointedly took a seat across from him. “They took Phaethon,” she said in a rush.
“They? Wait, I don’t want you to answer that,” he added, just as she was opening her mouth. He walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. They both winced from the interaction of their bioelectric fields. “At least take a shower and get a change of clothes.”
“I don’t think you heard me. My apartment was blown up. I don’t have anything!” she remarked, anger once again bathing her words.
“Then I will find you something.”
Carmen stared at him, her jaw clenched tight. Gungnir stared right back. When it was obvious that he wouldn’t yield, her gaze fell and her body slackened.
“All right,” she said softly.
He nodded. “Come on.”
She said nothing but followed without protest, and the two Clairvoyants made their way through the facility. Their haste was notable, even for those of their ilk. Gungnir stopped outside the staff bathroom. Carmen turned to him.
Something about her was different than when they had first met. There was anger, shame, and maybe even a hint of fear, but now there was more to her than that. Now there was poise and decisiveness to her manner—more so than the average Clairvoyant and certainly more than he’d ever seen in her. She seemed…serious.
They continued to stare at each other. Carmen swallowed hard, and it looked like she wished to say something. Gungnir readied himself for the stream of words she was obviously considering. But, when they finally came forth, they were such a simple thing.
“Thank you,” she said, looking both expectant and worried at the same time.
She spoke with such genuine gratitude that Gungnir nearly missed that what she said was also an apology. He nodded slowly and gave the most reassuring smile he could. Carmen responded in kind.
“I’ll have someone bring you something to wear. See me in my office when you are done. I’ll wait for you there.”
She nodded and then walked into the dark bathroom alone. She tried the lights several times, but they just wouldn’t turn on. She could only guess that power in this part of the facility had been damaged by the attack. Although Carmen was tempted to ask Gungnir if she could use a different bathroom, she thought better of it. It wasn’t actually a bother, as the Clairvoyant moved deftly through the black nothingness.
She shed her clothes after a few steps. She did not know if the air was hot or cold; she was too apart from everything to ever truly know. Indeed, she had to consciously allow the water to touch her. Yet, as the calming warmth washed over her, taking with it the grime of the day, she was not comforted.
In the dark, there was nothing to aim her focus, allowing her mind to think of nothing and everything. Time entered the same dimension. In that state, fully exposed and vulnerable with no one to care, Carmen considered her charge. She wasn’t sure what she could do. Perhaps no one could do anything. Her thoughts turned to Michael in his coma. Her middling efforts had kept her former lover alive as much as the machines he’d been attached to. Except now he wasn’t alive—no more than the dolls she had used to play with in a make-believe life she could never have. His parents had given up long before his last moments. The hospital well knew he couldn’t be saved. Kali knew it. And here, now, Carmen had to admit that she knew it as well. She had always known. In the end, the whole escapade had never really been about him.
“I never loved him,” she concluded softly to herself. The words landed like an anvil, but here, in the dark, that truth was accepted just like the knowledge that she had to eat to live.
She paused for a long second, shut off the water, and then rested against the wall. Doubt crept into her being. As she stood in the black nothingness, the faces of Theodore, Anthony the super, and everyone else who had lived in her apartment building could be seen all around her, sure as she was breathing. Mikayla was among them, as was Michael. Countless constructs reached for her to draw her down to their level. Death seemed able to follow her, despite whatever twists and turns she took to elude it. And now Phaethon was out there somewhere.
Her eyes narrowed as she telekinetically dried herself. She still had no idea what she could do or where she could go. She had no idea if there was anything else but this. All the same, she was completely certain she could no longer stay here.
Gungnir was true to his word, and a set of clothes waited for her. She brought the items into the bathroom telekinetically and dressed in the dark. When she finally stepped out into the hallway, she was miffed to learn she was dressed in the same uniform assets wore. She figured they were the only clothes Gungnir could find on such short notice.
She received several confused looks as she made her way back to his office. There was no explicit rule that assets weren’t allowed in the administrative sections of the facility, but it was a place they never ventured. She moved with such verve, however, that no one felt pressed to challenge her. Even other Clairvoyants made way on her approach. She took a deep breath. When she opened Gungnir’s door, she saw him standing with his back to her, surveying the grounds of the facility as he usually did. He turned and sat at his desk when she entered.
“Much better,” he said. Carmen nodded as she took a seat. “Now, what is this about someone taking Phaethon?”
“I don’t know who took him, but he has been missing since the attack,” she said. “I need to find him.”
“He could be dead,” Gungnir replied.
Carmen slowly shook her head. “He’s not dead. Don’t ask me how I know… I don’t. But…but he’s not dead. He can’t be.”
“So why come to me? Why do you think I can find him?”
“I have no idea whether you can, but I want him back. He’s my responsibility. If you can’t deliver, I’ll try something else.”
“Like what?”
She paused for a few seconds and then slowly shook her head. “I haven’t gotten that far yet,” she admitted. “I’ll try something else if you can’t help me. I don’t know what, but if I have to sell my soul, I will.”
“Why?” he asked.
“No one else will,” she answered. “No one ever will.”
Gungnir sat still as he considered her words. She stared at him expectantly and waited. Her expression suggested he’d be able to just wave his hands and produce Phaethon before her. He slowly turned to look out his window. By now, the sun was well past the horizon, and it was getting harder and harder to see the damage to the grounds.
“I may not be able to help you,” he said.
“You told me that before.”
“And I meant it then, just like I do now.”
He continued looking out his office window while Carmen’s eyes drilled into the back of his chair. His tone, even and accurate as always, did nothing to dissuade her.
“I don’t believe you,” she said.
“Clairvoyants aren’t prone to lies.”
Carmen remained undaunted. “You’re not like the other Clairvoyants here. You’re different.”
“As are you,” Gungnir said simply.
“I know,” she responded without missing a beat. “But everything you said to me before about forests and wolves, the view being fitting, and that you couldn’t help me wasn’t just talk. You really are on the outside looking in…by choice.”
Gungnir turned slowly in his chair to look her in the eye. If she didn’t know better, it seemed that, for the first time, he was truly interested in what she was saying.
“Continue,” he encouraged, almost as a dare.
Carmen swallowed hard and did just that. “For all the talk of power and force of will, Clairvoyants still only have a rote self-awareness. We still follow all the same ruts and predetermined paths everyone else follows. We all flew to the same town on our first flight. We all become mercenaries of some sort—even me. We never leave the forest, even if we’re aware of it.”
“And you think I have?” Gungnir asked.
“I…don’t know,” Carmen said. “But you talk like you have. I think you took this position at the facility to see if there is anyone else like you. Even if all you are is talk, you at least know there’s something other than this,” she said, gesturing around herself for effect. “I think you can help me, even if you say you can’t.”
“But that has nothing to do with Phaethon,” Gungnir pointed out.
“It has everything to do with Phaethon.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
Carmen shuddered and then looked away. After a few seconds of searching, she muttered, “I can’t really say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both,” she replied. “It’s important…to me. He’s my charge.” Gungnir looked at her hard but said nothing. “I have to know. Why did you elect to pay me, even though I failed my mission?”
“I’ve already told you why. I was sympathetic to your situation.”
“Why?”
Gungnir opened his mouth to answer and then paused. He said nothing but started nodding slowly. “I can’t really say,” he eventually answered. Carmen nodded as well. “Speaking of which, you don’t want to stay here while your boyfriend recovers?”
Her eyes dropped just then. “Michael died while I was gone,” she said, her voice hollow.
“And then this with Phaethon,” Gungnir said more to himself than to her. Carmen nodded. “I understand.”
“Can you help me?” she asked.
He sat silently, and Carmen could only watch and wait. “Maybe,” he finally said. “In this instance, you catch me in an awkward position. I have no leads.” She gave a dejected sigh at that. “Except for one thing,” he added quickly. “It is ironic, but the fact that you didn’t kill the Sentinel before makes us strangely fortunate now. He was taken by Space Force. My contacts there will forward anything useful from his interrogation. I doubt he’d know much of anything, but it’s the only thing we have to go off of.” Carmen nodded. “This won’t be like before. For now, I’ll just say you should stay close to your phone and I’ll contact you.”
“My apartment blew up,” she reminded him. “I don’t even own these clothes.”
Gungnir dropped his forehead into his hand and sighed. “Yes, I forgot about that. Take a room here, and I’ll contact you when the time comes.”
Carmen took a deep breath and then nodded slowly. “Okay.”
11
Unseen Worlds
She stared at the ceiling of her temporary quarters at the facility. It wasn’t her old dorm room; it wasn’t even a dorm. Yet, just like then, her eyes drilled into the ceiling while she awaited her next trial. Just like then, she had no idea what it would be. As she waited, the time between then and now seemed separated by no more than a breath.
A knock came at her door.
“Yes?” she answered.
The door opened slowly to reveal Gungnir. “Edge, it’s time.”
Carmen already knew he was coming and was dressed with her hair tied in a ponytail. All the same, his words caused a subconscious shudder. He didn’t notice.
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” he continued as they started walking down the hall.
Life in the facility was slowly returning to normal. It no longer crawled with detectives and investigators, just repair techs and others of that sort. Some of the outside contractors visibly shied away as the two Clairvoyants passed them. How they weren’t used to the principal inhabitants of the facility by now was beyond her.
“It was only a couple days,” Carmen said with a shrug, turning her attention back to Gungnir. “So, what do we know?” she asked.
“Still not much. The Sentinel was more resilient than expected.” Carmen frowned, which he caught out of the corner of his eye. “We know enough, Edge,” he reassured her. “He’s a professional working for professionals. His ability to resist Clairvoyant interrogation is no surprise, nor is it that he doesn’t know major operational details. He’s just a tool, even if an extremely skilled one.”
Carmen nodded. “So, what do we know?” she asked again. It was a rarity for a Clairvoyant to repeat themselves. The inefficiency was grating to the nerves.
“We know who hired him.”
She waited for him to say more. When it was obvious nothing else would be forthcoming, she asked, “That’s it?”
“For now, yes,” Gungnir said.
When they stepped out of an elevator, it was quite apparent that they were heading outside. For what, she had no idea. That question could wait till later.
“I thought you said he worked for the sortens. Does he?”
“We don’t know. We suspected that he worked for the sortens or Eternals, considering his target on Earth. However, it was and still is just a guess.” Carmen took a deep breath and then let it go in a loud sigh. Gungnir glanced at her as they walked. “This should interest you, though. The person who hired him and his only contact was a Clairvoyant. A Clairvoyant matching the description of the one who attacked here.”
Carmen stopped in place. Gungnir stopped as well and then turned.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
He gave a smirking smile. “What, no sighs?” he joked. She nodded several times, trying her best to hide an embarrassed frown. “Quite,” he finally answered.
&nbs
p; “What do we know about the Clairvoyant?” she asked hurriedly.
“Just the name: Charon,” Gungnir said calmly.
Carmen thought back to her history classes and swallowed hard. Not every Clairvoyant’s name perfectly described the person. Most Clairvoyants’ names were just a general reflection of who or what the person was. Of course, some names were grandiose or overly dramatic, but no one was extreme enough to be named Destroyer or something equally ridiculous. Janus had told her, and Kali had reiterated, that the truly crazy Clairvoyants—the type ones—didn’t last very long. She hoped this Charon wasn’t a type one. Why can’t the Clairvoyant who attacks other Clairvoyants be named something like Puffy Cloud? she thought.
“What can we do with just a name?” she asked.
“I don’t want to say anything that will get your hopes up, but it just might be enough to get started,” Gungnir said after a brief pause. “I’ve never heard of this Clairvoyant before though, which is odd. We might not typically do much to advertise ourselves, but we aren’t exactly secretive. There’s no reason to be.” Carmen nodded. She couldn’t hide, despite her many attempts to. People just knew what she was. “In the circles I travel, most everyone knows each other or at least knows of each other. But his attack strikes as some kind of statement.” He continued walking again, and Carmen followed.
“What makes you say that?”
“The theatrics, the attire, the mask,” Gungnir answered. “It’s not unique. Most of us have our props. It’s just odd that they come from a Clairvoyant no one has ever heard of in an attack that, as far as we know, had no real purpose. I keep thinking this attack was designed to fail, despite all the effort. Nothing of substance was achieved.”
Carmen shrugged. She hadn’t the faintest clue. “What does any of that have to do with taking Phaethon?” she asked.
“Difficult to say. We’re getting unsubstantiated reports that the sortens are looking to hire strong Clairvoyants in large numbers.”
“For mercenaries?” she asked as they stepped into the parking lot.
“I doubt it. There’s no need. They surrendered to us just a few days ago. The war is over for them. Besides, Clairvoyants have a casual…dislike for sortens. They’d never willingly join them.”