Here we go, here we go, here we go!
Great thanks go out to those who sent me
feedback: Kelly Pekryl, Rory Bryant,
Jamas Enright, and Ben Rawluk. We're also
doing a small mid-issue crossover with Ben's
Teens in Trenchcoats series. Teens #6
should hit the net about the same time as this
issue (if we do things right) and Kismet will
be appearing in both.
Enjoy!
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DERELICT Press Presents
The thirty-sixth issue of
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" Imago "
Echo: Part 4 of 6
A psuedo-Acraphobe title
._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.'COVER`._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.
A man and a woman, both blond with huge golden wings, stand at the edge
of a cliff. Kismet, wingless and years younger than she has ever appeared
in the books, stands beside them in a thin white dress, strikingly
beautiful.
)()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
Sarah Loman ran, faster than any Olympic track runner, than a
jet, than light. She hoped.
She picked her turns randomly, without any idea where she'd been
or where she was going. As long as it was away, from warehouses and chalk
circles, gunfire through the air like shattered glass. Maybe if she
didn't know where she was, then no one else would either.
A sharp pain shot through her side, and she went from taking deep
gasping breaths to short fast ones. By now she was out of the industrial
park and into a commercial area. Magazine stands and shop fronts on all
sides. She almost ducked inside one, until she remembered the woman from
the coffee shop diving over the counter, a huge syringe in one hand. She
turned down a side street, where things were a little more run down, and
headed into a residential area.
It was taking more and more effort to keep running with every
passing minute. Everything started looking shabbier, and she passed a
group of boys in torn up clothing just sort of hanging around a lamppost.
They had painted their faces like mimes, but she spotted a knife in
someone's back pocket. She cut across an empty dirt lot.
Something caught at her foot and she fell sprawling in the middle
of a field of weeds. For a second she just let herself be limp and
breathe, until her palms began to sting, and a dull ache grew in her
shoulder and hip. She opened her eyes, and found herself face to face
with a dandelion.
When she was in third grade she had dreamed of the moon, covered
in dandelions. In seventh grade, when they asked her what she had wanted
to be when she grew up, she didn't want to tell them that she didn't
know. So she said she wanted to be an engineer. That way she could build
domes on the moon, and make it so that the whole thing _could_ be covered
in cheery yellow and wistful white, gusts of seedlings a million strong.
A breeze washed over her, and half the tiny white puffs were
released tumbling into the air. She turned her head to follow them as
they flew away.
Maybe they didn't need rocket ships or glass domes. Maybe if the
wind was strong enough they could make it to the moon on their own.
Better there than here.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
"I need Sarah Loman. As long as she stays with you she's in too
much danger," said the woman coldly. Her gaze darted from Savannah to
Allen to Bryan and back again.
Viveka. Savannah had never met Brittany's other aunt, but the
description of her that Paytan had given matched. The iciness, and the
sheer sense of murderous potential were enough of a tip-off. Even
Paytan, whose eyes at that point had still been a deep chocolate brown,
who hadn't seemed to fear anything, had been unsettled when she spoke of
the woman.
"What the hell just happened?" snarled Allen.
"The Reality. They're Skaine's puppet, and they want Sarah just
as much as I do."
But Savannah was slowly scanning the warehouse, and taking count
of what she saw there. The bodies of mechs, sprawled here and there about
the room. Two fallen agents of the Reality. Bryan and Allen. The light
from the hole in the wall was cut off for a second as Kismet landed and
came inside. The winged girl opened her mouth to say something, then fell
silent when she sensed the tension in the air. And off to the side, a
walkie-talkie and a goldfish bowl, abandoned. "We lost her," she said,
and found herself suddenly the center of attention.
"You _lost_ her!?" Viveka's eyes narrowed. Savannah didn't even
look her way, just headed over to the goldfish bowl and picked it up.
"Guess so," she said softly. "She didn't seem too fond of us,
anyway. The fight was probably the last straw."
Viveka cursed, and took a few steps toward Savannah, thrusting
out a hand. "Give me Binky. She can't have gotten far."
Savannah met her gaze head on, and cradled the fishbowl close to
her chest. "Didn't see you at the funeral."
"What?"
"We called the farm in Wyoming, but no one ever picked up the
phone."
"We had left by then," said Viveka, impatient. "Give me the
cosmic power."
Savannah's voice dropped back to a whisper. "So you knew."
"Of _course_ we knew, you little twit," spat Viveka. "Did you
think there wouldn't be repercussions? More than a decade of uneasy
truce, both families with our fingers on the button, and Draen had to
charge right in like a fool. People are dying out there even now."
"You didn't even mourn. You just -- "
"Brittany sacrificed herself for our family!" said Viveka. "She
was close enough to dead thirteen years ago when Skaine first got her
anyway. She just evened the scales, finally."
She broke off, but Savannah held her gaze, and found herself met
with anger deep enough to break a person in two. Finally, Viveka looked
away. "It's a war," she said. "And if we're going to survive it we have
to win." She reached out and yanked the fishbowl out of Savannah's hands.
A moan came off from the side.
They turned to look at one of the Reality agents, a woman who lay
on the floor clutching her stomach. Blood seeped between her fingers and
onto the dirty pavement. Bryan blanched and looked away, but Allen just
stared down coldly. Viveka smiled and produced a gun from somewhere. She
walked toward the woman, until Savannah stepped defiantly in the way.
"No more killing," she said.
Viveka lifted the gun until the muzzle pressed into Savannah's
chest.
"If you kill her you'll never find Sarah," rang out Bryan's
voice. "Don't shoot anyone. We'll help you look for -- "
A shot shattered the air. Savannah's whole body jerked. They all
spun to look at Allen, standing with his gun pointing down at the corpse
of the Reality agent. He, in turn, was watching them.
"We're not helping her find anyone," he said. "We're going to go
get Paytan. She can go find the girl on her own, and they can both rot in
hell for all I care."
He and Viveka regarded each other for a moment across the empty
space. Allen inclined his head. Savannah was shaking, still looking at
the woman's body when Viveka turned and headed for the great gash in the
wall.
But she paused, just for a second, and looked back. Savannah met
the woman's gaze. There was a combination of so many emotions there that
Viveka's expression was unreadable, muddied by anger, frustration, and
the kind of sorrow that was so old it had become a part of her. Then it
was gone, and it was just Viveka watching Savannah watch her back, the
two of them gazing across empty space that seemed miles wide.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Kismet watched carefully as the bug woman passed by her and out
into the sunlight. This was the sort of person she had been afraid
existed when she had first arrived. It looked like her instincts had been
not entirely incorrect.
The corpse of the woman Allen had shot lay limply on the
pavement, and Kismet did her best not to look at it. The woman had been
an enemy, and clearly wouldn't have survived anyway, but it was still
unsettling. Mainly because Kismet wasn't entirely certain that Allen
would not have pulled the trigger, had it looked like the woman would
survive on her own.
"Where did you see the doves?" asked Allen, all business,
interrupting her reverie. She looked at him for a moment, saw the
desperate fear beneath his facade, the need to find Paytan. If he could
love her that strongly, there couldn't be that much evil in his heart.
"To the south, three blocks down. Near a bridge," she said, and
pointed in the general direction.
"I know the place," said Bryan. He was pale, uncomfortable but
trying to hide it. "A bunch of people from Sidekicks R Us used to hang
out there after an assignment."
"Okay then, let's get moving. Savannah, if you could take the
walkie-talkie..." Allen was already in motion, heading toward the door
and his car, his hand going to the pocket that held Occultism Kid's
pendulum. Kismet's eyes narrowed. They couldn't just abandon Sarah. The
girl had done nothing wrong but run.
Savannah went to the walkie-talkie and picked it up off the
floor. Kismet took a few steps toward the massive hole in the wall, but
stopped when she realized that Bryan wasn't moving. He looked torn.
Savannah looked up a moment later and realized the same thing. Kismet saw
the flash of sick sorrow on her face, quickly gone.
"Bryan?" she asked. Allen stopped at the warehouse door and
turned back, impatient. Bryan just frowned unhappily.
"I think we should go after her," he said.
"We don't have _time_ for this -- " started Allen.
"I'll go." said Kismet. She knew what Savannah and Allen would
say, and where their priorities lay. But they had never been alone in a
big city with the whole world against them.
Allen scowled and said, "She'll be fine, Viveka's going to find
her and keep track of her."
"That's what I'm worried about," said Kismet. "Is it normal, to
be related to someone... who is like that?"
"The Reality isn't going to let up on her just because she's away
from us," said Bryan. "Heck, we only got caught in the crossfire.
They'll never leave her alone, not until she's dead or they've got her."
"I'll go after her, and bring her back to you," said Kismet,
clutching her walkie-talkie.
Savannah rubbed her temples for a moment. "If we leave her it
might be for the best -- " she started, but Kismet shook her wings, and
the clash of metal feathers drowned her out.
"I know you miss Brittany," she said. Savannah shut her mouth.
"And I know you can't like Sarah. But someone has to. She's alone. You
three always had each other."
"Not anymore," whispered Savannah. Bryan took a step toward her,
but Kismet went on.
"She never had anyone. You, Allen, and Bryan are enough to find
Paytan. And soon you will have the two of us, to help."
Savannah watched her for a moment, then looked down. "Be
careful," she said. "Promise one thing. For Brittany."
Kismet nodded.
"Don't get yourself killed. Go home if you have to, abandon Sarah
if you have to, but keep yourself whole, okay?"
"But I -- "
"Just that one thing," said Savannah, and met her eyes. Kismet
winced, and tried to hold the gaze for as long as she could. She glanced
down.
"Okay. Promise."
"Good. Good luck."
They were silent for a moment, looking at the floor.
Savannah sighed. "Well, I guess this is goodb -- "
Kismet threw her arms around her, squeezed once, then released
and took a step back with a wince. Savannah watched her with a raised
eyebrow. "That was a hug... right?"
"Right," said Savannah. She smiled when Kismet nodded proudly.
"Good. That's done. Eugh. I will do my best to make it back with
Sarah."
"Don't push yourself."
"I promised," the golden winged girl smiled softly, then turned
and waved at Allen and Bryan. "It was nice meeting you." She ran for the
hole in the wall and leaped into the air with one great downsweep of her
wings.
Kismet soared.
The wind caught beneath her and tossed her higher into the sky,
farther above the buildings and streets through which a young girl must
even now be running. Sarah couldn't have gotten far.
She had forgotten that she and Savannah had spoken on the roof
once, when Paytan and Brittany were attending the family reunion.
Savannah knew what was happening to her, part of the changes she was
going through. She knew she'd die if she stayed much longer.
Heck, she probably _saw_ it, as well.
Every day since she had arrived here Kismet had thought at least
once of going home, and now she was almost there. As she flew her nails
turned to gold, then the metal flowed like water over her hands and
forearms, becoming armor and claws. In the beginning she had been forced
to wear one of her people's facsimiles. This was the real thing. She
would find Sarah, and bring her back, then leave.
She and Sarah were walk-throughs. This was not their place, and
not their story, but they were in it just the same. It was their
obligation to throw in their hands, and do their best while they were
here. Then get away as fast as they could to home and family, before it
swallowed them up.
The wind picked up, and she had to fight a little to glide closer
to the streets. Beneath her face after face looked up, picture perfect
copies of each other. Eyes wide, mouth open. Sometimes they pointed, or
ducked into a building as if she brought bad luck behind her in a wave.
Suddenly she was tired again, with the ground so crowded and
heavy beneath her, the open air above her like a peaceful lake. Everyone
here was so human, and she was tired of the swarms and the herds, the
bug-like masses with minds. She wanted to go home to the great empty
rooms, her race balanced on the edge of a cliff, dead but not knowing it
yet for a thousand years. It was in her blood.
She only wished she could finish this story before she went back.
That would have to be Sarah's job.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Paytan hadn't known there were passages under Net.ropolis until
Allen told her. She'd never thought much about the ground beneath her
feet. But it was helpful now.
Paytan crouched in the corner, in the wet darkness, with the
tunnels stretching all around her for miles in every direction. The first
artifact sat in front of her on the ground, seeming almost to glow white
in the dim light.
Three pipes ran along one wall, and she leaned up against them,
hands hanging beneath her knees as she rested. She was so tired.
The doves had made it down with her somehow, and they nestled all
around her, white bodies turned faintly green by the light from her eyes.
Four artifacts left. Imps had begun to collect some of the less important
ingredients, filling a backpack that lay at her side. She had sent two
demons out already, but the summonings took effort and she didn't know
what would happen if she was too tired to control something she called
up. It wouldn't do to get herself dead at this stage of the game.
One down, four to go.
She ran a hand over one of her horns while she thought, up and
down. The other artifacts should be easier. They were already on this
plane, and no one had thought to lock them away anywhere. All she had to
do was get them away from their current owners, and the demons she had
summoned would be powerful enough for that. She hoped.
Of course, the original owners would come calling soon enough,
but by then she'd be done anyway, and they could do whatever they wanted
with her.
She leaned her head back, horns clunking against the metal pipe,
and became aware of a thrum at the back of her head. She turned and laid
her cheek against the metal, closed her eyes. There was water rushing
through one of the pipes, on its way from somewhere to somewhere else.
It sounded like the ocean.
When this was all over, she decided, they were going to go to the
beach. It would be a relief, after the cold underground air that even now
seemed to leach the strength from her bones. She didn't think she even
had the strength to stand anymore. The beach would be perfect. She could
feel the sun against her skin, the steady wash of the water over the
sand. If she was going to do one good thing in all her life, this was it.
With her eyes closed, dirty hair and torn clothing, she looked
like some street waif out of Lewis Carol. Even the horns, somehow, seemed
to belong.
For the first time in days, Paytan slept.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Night was falling.
Viveka snarled with annoyance, and tore off the headsets, folding
them up and jamming them into her pocket. Lily had given them to her,
modified so that they could listen into the frequencies that Skaine's
minions used. It was how she'd found Sarah in the first place. Skaine's
men had found the girl first, and been foolish enough to chatter about it
to each other over their radios while Viveka was in range. Not that they
could do much else _but_ chatter. Between the loss of their Avatar and
the damage the Reeves were dealing to them, the Skainites had broken into
factions. They were as disorganized as ants whose hill had just been
smashed.
But now the Skainites had lost Sarah as well.
There were at least three parties of Skaine's men, probably with
back-up from the Reality, roaming the city. They knew they'd lost one of
their teams in the industrial park, but the two agents who escaped hadn't
managed to report back yet.
Viveka leaned down to peer at the pavement. The girl hadn't been
trying to hide her path at all, but it was still slow going. It was
always hard tracking someone across cement. But she would manage. She
hadn't been hunting people for over a decade for nothing.
An hour later she was well on her way, Binky's fishbowl strapped
to her back in a make-shift sling, when she spotted a group of boys with
their faces done up like mimes walking toward her down the sidewalk. They
were spread out so that there was no way to pass them without stepping
into the street. Two of them leered at her as they approached, and one
made a crude motion with is hands.
Viveka had the leader bent backwards over her knee in less than a
second, the point of a tiny knife resting gently on the surface of his
eye. "Have you seen a young girl recently? Junior high school age." Her
voice was even and polite.
The boy made tiny panicked noises, uh, uh, uh, beneath her hand.
She pressed downward gently, dimpling the surface of his eye. The others
stood frozen, stunned.
Finally one of them stepped forward and pointed shakily back
the way he came, his fingers mimicking the hands of a clock. A half hour
ago.
"Thank you," said Viveka. She stood, the knife gone, and let the
leader drop to the ground. The rest of them gave her a wide berth as she
headed down the street.
She found the Avatar a few minutes later, lying in a bed of
weeds, staring at nothing. It was sickening. At least Brittany, crippled
as she was, had shown some spine. Stupidly, and without much thought for
the good of her family, but at least she'd had it. Viveka stopped at the
edge of the field, unable to move for a moment. Then she shook her head.
You made your bed, she thought, now lie in it. After Marcelyn everything
had gone to hell, from rebellious cripple to the gutless lump that lay
before her now, but she'd have to make it work. Whether she liked it or
not, Sarah was the key to everything. She and the girl together, Viveka's
tracking skills and Sarah's power, free from any outside control, would
be enough to kill the Avatar of Skaine. She would destroy the whole
bloodline, hunt them down to the very last one if necessary. Bury the
sins of the past and end what had begun thirteen years ago in one
supremely foolish instant, finally, finally.
Viveka moved forward in a rush. She hadn't checked on the
positions of Skaine's minions recently, and if one of the packs was in
the area she'd have to move fast.
Sarah looked up as she approached, her face hollow with fear.
Viveka smiled widely at her, but the girl's expression didn't change.
"Hello, Sarah," she said, smiling until she thought her mouth
would go brittle. The girl crawled backwards a few feet, drawing herself
into a crouch.
"Who are you?"
"I'm your Auntie Viveka. And I'm going to take you away from all
this." Straight to the Avatar of Skaine, as soon as they found him, and
then back to the farm in Wyoming where she'd stay very firmly under the
protective eyes of the rest of the family. Viveka had never agreed with
the decision to let Brittany leave the house, and put herself in more
danger. Disagreed with it enough to do some serious harm to people, in
fact. But nothing had come of it. Which may have been for the best, in
the end. This girl seemed much more pliable.
Sarah's face brightened. "Are you going to take me home?" she
asked. Viveka smiled again.
"Yes." Sarah was getting slowly to her feet when a shadow flashed
over them both. Sarah looked up and spun around as the woman with golden
wings landed behind her. The metallic feathers chimed as she folded them
behind her back.
The girl's face lit up for just a moment, and the winged woman
lifted a walkie-talkie to her mouth and pressed a button on it. Too
risky.
Viveka lifted her gun and fired three times into the center of
the woman's chest.
Sarah screamed, and Viveka cursed, as the woman crumpled to the
ground. Even if there wasn't a transmission to give them away, the new
Avatar's screams certainly weren't helping matters. Viveka grabbed her by
the shoulder and spun her around, pushing her face in very close.
"It's important that we don't screw up here. You're innocent. You
don't know any better. I have to make sure you don't make a mistake."
Viveka glared right into the tear-filled eyes, trying to impress upon her
how important this was. "Because once is enough, little girl. It can last
your entire life. Turn you into something you never wanted to be."
Sarah just sobbed. She was shaking all over, like a wet kitten.
"You're the best weapon there is, little girl," whispered Viveka. "Don't
be afraid."
Something cold and hard whipped around her face then, like
hundreds of thin tentacles. Viveka felt her neck bend a way it wasn't
supposed to, then she was jerked backward and tossed across the empty
lot. For a second everything was black, and she relied on her instincts.
Went limp, and hit the ground rolling, the fishbowl slamming into her
back like a mallet. She stopped in a half-crouch, pain dancing like fire
from the base of her skull to her lower back.
The woman was back on her feet, this time coated entirely in the
gold metal from head to foot. And she was reaching out to the Avatar,
although with a distasteful look on what Viveka could see of her face.
Sarah paused uncertainly, then leaped into the woman's arms. They
burst into flight, and Viveka fired a few shots after them but the
bullets bounced harmlessly away.
Dammit, she'd shot her three times dead center. What was the
freak made of?
Viveka hated net.heroes. They were the only people made of
weirder stuff than her family.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Bryan returned from a tiny coffee shop just down the street, where
he had been for the last few moments. Savannah smiled weakly as he walked
up to them, she and Allen leaning on the bridge railing. Allen's fists
were clenched around each other, to the point where they were almost
shaking. Savannah didn't ask why, without any explanation, Bryan had
excused himself to make a phone call.
She was sure he had his reasons.
They had driven south, and found nothing. Only a few dirty white
feathers scattered along a bridge railing. Savannah held up a feather as
Bryan got within speaking distance.
"This is off one of the doves, alright," she said.
Allen looked down the road, squinting in the swiftly fading
light. "Where the hell would she go from here?"
"Somewhere private," said Bryan. "She needs to keep summoning
things, and set up for whatever final ritual she's got planned. Can't do
that where everybody can see you."
"She already bolted from the industrial park. Paytan's not the
type to circle around," said Savannah. Allen pulled the pendant from his
pocket, and sat down crosslegged next to the bridge railing.
"Give me a few minutes," he said. "She's been doing a lot of
heavy-duty summoning. Maybe I can sense it. And if she's still close by,
the Net.crominicon..." his voice faded away as he closed his eyes. His
hand held out the pendant, unmoving.
Savannah watched him for a moment, rubbing the white feather
between her fingers until tiny pieces of it began to come off. She felt
Bryan's warmth at her back as his arms came around her, and closed her
eyes. She leaned back into him and let her head rest on his shoulder.
After a moment he shifted a little, and she opened her eyes a
crack. "I'm sorry about Sarah," he whispered.
"It's okay," she said softly. "I know I'm biased."
The next few minutes passed in silence. "Will you be okay?" he
asked.
"Oh God, Bryan, I don't know. Too many people are dying. Allen
and that woman, he didn't have to -- Paytan _killed_ somebody."
"You think we'll be able to get to her?"
"I don't know," she whispered, and closed her eyes again. Turned
her face in until it pressed against his chest. "Stop asking me
questions. Just for now, let it be."
"Got it!" Allen's voice rang out triumphantly. He sprang to his
feet. "She went underground."
"What?"
Bryan squeezed her once, then let his arms drop back to his
sides. "There are tunnels under the city," he said. "Of course!"
"How can we get into them?" asked Savannah.
"There are a few entrances here and there, but the quickest way
is through the sewer."
Savannah had a flash of Censor Girl, escaping into the sewer
drain and from there out of sight. It made sense.
A few minutes later she sat at the edge of a manhole, looking
after Allen and Bryan down into the darkness. She could feel Nei's braid
sitting heavily in her pocket. It had been covered in bits of dirt when
she picked it up, coming unraveled at one end.
She had known Nei. Not well, and not long enough to notice things
that would have, _should_ have saved lives, but they had been acquainted.
Long enough for Savannah to see the hero-worship and dreams woven in with
the fear and betrayal that ran through the girl.
She had promised herself that no one else would die.
She didn't know how to feel about Allen and the Reality agent.
The woman had been trying to kill them, or at least Sarah. But to just
pull the trigger like that -- for now she was just pretending it didn't
happen, hoping Allen wouldn't do it again. She would deal with it later,
when all this was over.
And Paytan, Paytan... oh god, she wasn't supposed to do this. She
would run off, and they would go after her, and when they found her
everyone would talk and cry and they'd GO HOME, because there was nothing
else to do. Godammit, Paytan wasn't allowed to go nuts and leave her here
to deal with this.
"Savannah, you coming?" called Allen. She shook her head.
"Yeah Allen, I'll be right down," she said, and dropped into the
darkness.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
They were at least a half-mile up. High enough to kill them if
she fell. Or let go. Sarah wrapped her arms even more tightly around the
winged girl's neck, and closed her eyes.
They were going so fast that the wind had turned the dampness
from the tears on her cheeks ice cold. She felt like it was winter, and
she'd gone into the snow in her summer clothes. Viveka had shot at them
when they took off, and a few moments later a burst of bullets had come
up from one of the alleys far below. All Sarah had seen was a few large
metallic shapes, before Kismet dove and spiraled away.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but there wasn't any
comfort in it. The air smelled of sweaty metal and cold dew, nothing like
home. She should have kept running. Not stopped until she was on her own
doorstep. Or the moon.
It took her a moment to realize that they were landing on the
roof of an office building. Kismet hadn't spoken the entire time, and
neither had Sarah. She hadn't known what to say.
When the winged woman set down with a thump, Sarah loosened her
grip and slithered to the gravel roof, leaning heavily against a
gold-coated leg. Against her will, tears began to roll down her face
again. She wasn't sure she'd ever stop crying.
It didn't help when a hand gently took her shoulder and forced
her away from the leg. She looked up to see an expression of poorly
concealed distaste on the Kismet's face, and the tears really started to
come. Didn't anyone here care? "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "Sorry sorry
sorry."
The expression melted off Kismet's face, and she dropped into a
crouch so that she was on the same level as Sarah. "No! No, it's okay. I
just -- I do not like people close to me. Not anyone. I'm sorry." She
looked fit to cry herself.
"Where are you taking me?" Sarah's voice shook the whole way
through. She must sound like a three-year old.
"To the others. Bryan will protect you, and so will Savannah,
even if she does not like it. It's where you'll be safest."
No they won't, thought Sarah. "Are they here?"
There was a long pause, and Sarah realized that Kismet was
breathing heavily, almost panting. The gold coating that covered her
entire body began to thin away, becoming translucent. "I'm sorry, Sarah.
I can go no further. You'll have to reach the others yourself."
"But, I - I can't," whimpered Sarah, her voice getting more and
more panicky," I - I'll die, they'll shoot me and - oh my God."
By now the metal coating was gone entirely. The girl with golden
wings had looked seriously anorexic the first time Sarah laid eyes on
her, but it was nothing to the way she looked now. Desiccated. The skin
on her arms was so thin that Sarah could see clearly each of the bones
beneath, pale gold. She looked like she hadn't eaten in months. And her
chest was punctuated by three large holes, bloodless. There wasn't any
blood anywhere, for that matter.
"I have to leave soon...
"How can you still be alive?" whispered Sarah.
Kismet smiled weakly. "I'm not really living in my flesh
anymore." She held out a hand, the metallic gold twisting around it like
a live thing, pulsing. "This is where I am now."
Through all the weirdness, all the fear, one thing became
painfully clear to Sarah. There was no way she could survive this. There
was no way she could even _conceive_ this, let alone -- "So you're going
to leave me all alone here?" She could hear the hysteria in her voice,
but could do nothing to stop it. Didn't want to.
Kismet pressed a walkie-talkie into her hand. "They are on the
other end of this. Just head south for nine or so blocks, then you will
be in range. There's a manhole near the bridge, and they should be just
inside the sewers."
"I can't, I can't -- "
Kismet put her hand over Sarah's mouth, cutting her off. "This
will be your job. It is all I ask. Stay until this is over, then go as
fast as you can to the place you are supposed to be."
She looked earnestly into the other girl's eyes. "I was just as
alone as you are now. Only you have power, a gift. Out of all these
insect-millions you have been chosen. Do something with it. Change
things."
Kismet took her hand away from Sarah's mouth, but the girl stayed
silent. Kismet gave her a small smile, and took hold of her hand. Sara
flinched backward at the touch of the cold metal, even moreso when some
of it trickled down her arm to form a thin ring around her wrist.
"Remember this. This place, and what I have said. Will you do
that for me?"
Sarah nodded, not only because it was what she was expected to
do, but because she doubted she ever _could_ forget this, even if she
wanted to. A girl half-coated in metal, the roof, this whole
experience... if she lived through it. If it didn't eat her alive.
Kismet smiled at her, satisfied, and stood. She stepped away
toward the edge of the roof. "Tell Savannah and Paytan that they are true
and kind friends. That I owe them a great debt, and I will do all that I
can to repay it."
Sarah realized suddenly how alone she would be up on the roof.
"Wait! No!" Kismet smiled at her weakly.
"You can do this, Sarah Loman, just fine on your own." Then she
was gone, over the edge of the roof and away towards the LNHHQ. Leaving
Sarah kneeling with the wind washing over her, and a thin band of gold
around her wrist.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
[Author's note: For what happens next with Kismet, please see Teens in ]
[ Trenchcoats #6. She returns later in this issue ]
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Absalom sat at the top of the Himalayas, naked but for a
loincloth and a dainty red hat. Before him lay his blessed staff, passed
from father to son since it was first created, during the reign of Louis
XIV, the Sun King. Absalom was meditating, calming his spirit and soul.
He had been doing so for twenty days already, and did not plan to stop
for another thirty or so.
The demon's first blow knocked him backward fifty feet.
He rolled across the snow, trying to suck air back into his
lungs to speak, and thus spellcast. But a scaled tail lashed out, and
sent him over the edge of the cliff.
Absalom fell, thrust out a hand and had it bloodied by a sharp
upthrust of rock. He grabbed with his other hand, and this time held on,
slamming himself into the rock face of the mountain. There he clung for a
few seconds, shaking. Then the words began to pour from his mouth,
ancient as the world itself. Absalom rose up from the edge of the cliff,
his hair tossing about him as if washed by the winds, eyes nearly glowing
with the power he was bringing to bear.
But by then the demon was already gone, and the blessed staff
with it.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Such a world. Strange, and beautiful, with rooftops covered in
black birds and girls in trenchcoats.
An angel.
Kismet smiled to herself. She had read about angels in the
encyclopedias. She was nothing like them. But the girl with the auburn
hair, Emily, had meant well. Kismet didn't even mind that the LNHHQ roof
had been taken over by those strange birds. It had been an accident that
she had arrived here, so it was fitting that her last meeting be an
accidental one.
She soared toward the center of the city, wings shaking slightly
in the breeze. She would make it, just barely. The core of worry in her
stomach dissolved into wistfulness. Everything around her looked
different when she knew she was seeing it for the last time. She
shouldn't have left a piece of herself with Sarah, but it had felt right
when she did it. It was the only way she knew to be comforting. The only
thing she could do that would remain after she was gone, back home and
too far away to stand by her friends, or a lost little girl.
She could feel the change within her, the separation from her
flesh. Her skin and bones felt like they didn't belong to her anymore,
like numbed limbs. Her life was centered in the Vij-Fal now, the golden
substance that all the people here seemed to assume was metal.
She could still feel a dull pain where the woman had shot her,
and with it a sense of guilt. Part of her wanted to stay. But if the
transformation completed before she was home, she didn't think she'd
survive.
She found one of the tallest skyscrapers and settled onto the
empty roof. The moon was just coming up beyond the city lights, half
full. The breeze was strong, and the stars glittered numberless far
above. Good enough. Kismet paused one last time to look over the city,
where the swarming masses of these humans lived and worked. Where her
friends were. "Good luck, all of you," she whispered, whether to Paytan
and Savannah or the world as whole she did not know.
Then she spread her wings wide until they caught at the
moonlight, the starlight, the city's glow rising up from beneath her.
They glittered silver, gold, red and green, like the Christmas Tree that
Kismet had seen in the LNHHQ. The feathers flowed like liquid metal,
sending flecks of gold light scattering cross the skyscraper's roof while
the distant sounds of traffic echoed around her. She could see people
walking down the sidewalks, going in and out of the buildings on their
business as her wings grew wider and thinner, so much more fine than they
had been before.
Tiny holes formed in the sheets of metal that sprang from her
back, and caught at the breeze. A chorus of flute notes burst into the
air. And still the metal spread out, until it was nothing but gold
filigree, and the air in the rooftop was full of notes and song.
She took one last look at the buildings, to the distant mountains
seen only in silhouette. The LNHHQ sat at the center of one block,
brightly lit. Then Kismet threw her head back and sang.
First one voice, then five, then ten. The metal burst from her
fingertips like reeds, swung down until she was encased in something like
a great golden cage, the bars themselves acting as musical instruments so
they set the air itself to singing. And the number of voices in the
chorus climbed to twenty, and beyond.
Below, people stopped and looked up, as the sound of a choir came
down to them from a darkened sky. The smoke from the city's industries
tainted the air with the smell of oil and refuse. The song wound its way
around the noise and the stink, incorporating it into the whole, and
still the number of voices climbed until an entire chorus sang from the
above, turning the sky itself into the roof of a cathedral.
At the top of the skyscraper the air began to vibrate, humming
its own dimensional tune, and Kismet's chorus shifted to match it, to
pull the strands of music around the dimensional wall and twist it to her
own ends.
And in the midst of the tune, hidden amongst the voices, one last
well-wishing for those who needed it most. Pretty Emily and her roof of
black birds, Sarah and the long, long road that lay ahead. Paytan and
Savannah most of all, for their pain, and because Kismet couldn't be
there to help.
Every voice soared skyward, blending together into a single tone,
a command that darkened the air and melted a little piece of the universe
around her. Just like that, she was gone.
Back to her home, to the lands of her people so few and dying
that the Looniverse seemed a mindless horde of bugs. Back to the songs
and pageantry, the great empty marble halls and graves a million strong.
The walls and homes towering up so high, so glorious, and so very far
away.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
They had called Kismet an hour ago and told her they were heading
into the sewers, and that they didn't know when they'd be coming out. The
three of them crouched in one of the larger sewer tunnels, lit by the dim
glow of the can in Bryan's hand. He had refused to actually set anything
on fire, afraid of igniting the sewer gases and killing them all. Instead
he laboriously charged up a piece of junk, then held it there for as long
as he could until it faded. Everything stank.
Allen kneeled in the muck, the pendulum dangling from his
fingers. They hadn't been able to draw a bead on Paytan since they went
down, not even to tell if she was in the sewers or the underground city
tunnels.
Suddenly the pendulum swung up, straining toward the ceiling.
Allen cursed. "There's this big dimensional tear outside, above
the ground. It's near the center of the city." He was already standing,
looking for an exit. Bryan lost his concentration, and the whole tunnel
went dark.
"How could she move that fast -- "
"No," said Savannah, relief in her voice, "It's Kismet. She made
it."
"Are you sure?" asked Allen.
"We talked on the roof of the LNHHQ once, when Brittany and
Paytan were at her family's in Wyoming. She said she would sing her way
home, when she was strong enough."
There was silence for a moment, and they all listened to the
murky water trickle by their feet. Finally Bryan spoke up again. "Guys, I
hate to break up the moment of reflection but my uncle's a sewer worker
and if we hit a pocket of H2S in here it'll suffocate us before we have a
chance to ignite anything and burn ourselves to death. Let's get out of
here and into the tunnels."
"Then all we have to worry about is stuff collapsing on us," said
Savannah, but the smile was audible in her words.
"Ready when you are," said a shaky voice that didn't belong to
any of them. Allen spun, kicking up some of the mucky silt. Savannah made
a disgusted noise as some of it hit her, then Bryan finally found
something to charge up and a dim glow came to life around his hand. Allen
had his gun pointing at the shape before they could even make out who it
was.
Sarah Loman stood, her face streaked with dirt and dried tears,
pale as a ghost. "Hey guys," she said.
Allen muttered something unintelligible and put the gun away.
Savannah turned to stare at the water at her feet, then thought better of
it and just looked out into the darkness. Bryan smiled, and took a step
toward the girl.
"Are you okay?" he asked. Sarah shook her head.
"I don't belong," she said. "And I want to go home. But I can't.
You three are better than Viveka." She looked up at him and he saw a
flash of fear go through her eyes. "She's nuts."
"What do you mean she's -- "
Allen overrode Bryan. "You can't come with us."
"I _have_ to," said Sarah. "I know I screwed up that other time -- "
"You were completely useless! Not only that, you nearly got us
killed, and then ran."
"A deal," she whispered sullenly.
"What _kind_ of deal?" snarled Allen. "You can't do anything of
any use, so what do you have to offer?"
"I learn to be useful, and in return I get to come with you. I'll
watch out for myself. You won't have to throw yourself into gunfire
again."
"What do you get out of it?" asked Savannah, her voice
emotionless.
"Company," said Sarah. "I can't do this alone."
"You can't do anything," said a voice from the shadows. Viveka
stepped out, the fishbowl hefted in one hand. Binky swam lazily inside.
Everyone tensed. "I'm _not_ going with you," said Sarah, but her
voice was shaking again and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. Viveka
smiled a patently false smile, and lifted a gun.
"You're coming with me if I have to shoot you in the leg," she
said evenly. Bryan sent Allen and Savannah a panicked glance, but neither
of them moved. His hand clenched around the piece of wood glowing in his
palm, but he didn't throw it. He had seen what the woman had done to the
mechs, and the Reality agents. He didn't think he'd even be able finish
the throw before she shot him.
Sarah bared her teeth at Viveka. "No."
Viveka shrugged imperceptibly, and pulled the trigger.
A wall of black, gold, and fuscia flared around Sarah like an
explosion, and the bullet bounced away to shatter against the sewer wall
like a dropped peppermint candy. For a split second Sarah looked both
surprised and elated, but she covered it fast and jerked her head at
Savannah, Bryan, and Allen. "I'm going with them."
"Not if they're dead," said Viveka.
Bryan began to charge the piece of wood a little more, and he
heard Allen slowly begin to shift up the hand that held the gun.
"If you kill them I'll never work with you."
"Not willingly, no," said Viveka. "But you have a family I'm
sure. More people you care about."
"So do you," said Sarah. "This is all about family, isn't it?
There have to be more of you nuts out there right now. You go shooting
anyone and I'll _show_ you an Avatar. You think a gun can stop these
powers once I get used to them?" There was anger in her voice now, mixed
with the hysteria.
"Once you get used to them," said Viveka. "If you happened to
die, and another, more pliable Avatar came into power -- "
"Try it," Sarah bared her teeth. "Pull the trigger again."
For a moment Viveka looked like she was considering it. Then she
shifted, and the gun disappeared. "You probably set off every Skainite
alarm with that display of power you just pulled," she said.
"Isn't that what you want?"
"I want their leader," snarled Viveka.
"I want to get _away_. You want me. Keep them off my back, stick
with us, and we don't mention certain... mistakes made," said Sarah,
tilting her head significantly toward the others, and tapping her chest
three times. Three bullet holes, dead center.
Viveka weighed things for a moment, then nodded. "Deal."
"Neither of you are coming with us," said Allen. Viveka just
watched him.
"How are you going to stop us?" she asked.
Allen drew a bead with the gun on Viveka's stomach. "I don't see
that as a problem."
Savannah grabbed Allen's arm, pulled it down. "Don't. We can
resolve this another way." Viveka just sneered.
Sarah moved until she was face to face with the older girl,
standing solidly inside her personal space. She waited until Savannah
finally turned her head to look at her. "I know you hate me. But if I'm
going to work with you three I need to know exactly how this cosmic power
thing works and why I have it." She stopped. "And you're going to tell
me. I don't trust Viveka."
"Neither do I," said Savannah, and took a good look at the older
woman. Viveka met her gaze, just like the last time, cold and
emotionless, oozing murderous potential. Savannah had a sudden flash of
those people one meets at times, the ones that dress like everyone else
but with the just the faintest twitch in their eyes. 'I'm normal,' they
say, 'Just like you. Normal, normal, normal.' Then they go home and kill
pets, or dream of little girls and knives. Viveka flashed a predatory
smile, and glanced away. The woman hadn't stopped broadcasting herself as
a predator since she showed up.
"You weren't always a killer, were you?" whispered Savannah.
Viveka didn't reply. Savannah wasn't even sure if she'd heard
her. Sarah had already moved away and Bryan and Allen started heading
deeper into the sewers. Savannah turned and followed them before the
darkness of the tunnels could rush forward and swallow her up. After a
moment she heard Viveka begin to move as well, and they continued on in
silence.
-=ð=- -=ð=-
Paytan held the first artifact in one hand, and a staff of carven
ash, inlaid with gold and pearl in the other. Two down, three to go.
The tunnels had widened out into a large annex, with an upswept
ceiling that rose to three times her height and stopped abruptly, clogged
with split beams and bricks. Dust sifted down occasionally as she stood,
in drifts of smoke that fell slowly toward the floor. She took a deep
breath and braced herself. The doves moved somewhere out in the darkness,
soft flutters and shifting, the occasional electronic coo.
The air temperature rose languidly upward, and the natural
dampness of underground room seeped away to desert humidity. The third
artifact was probably on its way to her right now, but the fourth and
fifth were held in a single place, well-guarded. She spread her arms wide
as the universe tore a hole in itself and poured a creature into the
darkness that was almost as strong as the Demonlord that had given her
horns, who had shattered Dirmarw --
The rift closed, and the demon knelt before her. It was
human-shaped, with distended limbs and fingers. Mirror shards coated its
body like scales. It had no face, only a flat reflective oval.
"I have a task for you," said Paytan.
It looked up at her and Paytan caught a glimpse of herself
reflected in the mirror, a knight in silver armor with a rune-covered
sword at her side. But the helmet had holes for her horns, and they
curled out of the skull like a violation. Her hands were covered in
blood. Behind the glass the demon snickered.
Paytan lashed out, and her foot slammed into the its face,
cracking the mirror in two. The force of the kick sent the demon onto its
back, but it rolled back into the crouch swiftly enough, hands clutched
to the sides of its head to hold the cracked glass together.
It kicked her back.
Paytan dropped backward, more from surprise than pain. "Freeze!"
she shouted. The demon rose to its full height and took a step toward
her.
Her powers weren't working. If she summoned a demon, it was
supposed to obey her every command. The same when they summoned her.
"I command you to stop where you stand!"
The demon laughed.
"Poor little human," it said, in her voice. "Too strong for you?"
It lashed out at her, and she dodged backward. Her foot hit her
backpack with a clinking noise, and she remembered one of the minor
ingredients an imp had brought her. Holy water.
She kicked the backpack backward with one foot, then turned and
sprang after it, tearing it open while the demon walked toward her,
snickering. She shoved various herbs and bits of chalk aside, and with a
moment of concentration the doves sailed out of the shadows and dived at
the demon. It batted at them ineffectually, but kept on coming. Then her
hands closed around the glass vial, and she stood to face it just as it
reached her.
In its cracked face she saw Nei as she had first seen her,
standing on top of a van with her braid tossing in the wind. Blackness
overtook the image, until a hand of burnt metal reached out from the
dark, as if in one last desperate, pleading grab -- Paytan unstoppered
the bottle as the demon struck out at her again, slamming the back of its
hand across her cheekbone. Her head whipped to the side, and the holy
water went everywhere.
The demon screamed, tearing away from her to clutch at its
smoking limb. Paytan stumbled away, rubbing wildly at her arms.
With one last desperate force of will, she unsummoned the demon.
The universe tore open and swallowed it whole, leaving her alone in the
empty room, her breath coming in quick gasps.
That shouldn't have happened. She had never summoned a demon as
strong at that one, but they weren't supposed to rebel. They weren't
supposed to _disobey_. She knelt, and began to pick the pieces of the
bottle up from the dirt.
Then she stopped, because her hands were shaking too hard to get
hold of the pieces. She could not get the image of the metal hand out of
her mind. And behind, the faintest outline of terrified eyes... the
liquid had spattered onto her, and she had panicked. The holy water had
run down her arm in thick rivulets, and now she was about to break down
crying. Not because it had actually burned, or scarred, or caused any
pain at all.
But because she had thought it should.
________________________________________________________________________
Binky, Kismet, Out-of-It Lass, Perdition, Viveka, copyright
Jennifer Whitson, 1995. Allen is Jamas Enright's, used with
permission. Emily, mentioned though not appearing, is Ben Rawluk's.
Explosion Boy used to Mike Escutia's but now he's mine. All mine!
Ha ha ha. Everybody else is somebody's.
Next Issue:
Two artifacts down, three to go. Paytan's closing the gap, and
there's not much left that can slow her down...
Now that the Reality knows for certain that Sarah's in the area,
they're not going to let up, either. It's fun and games in the
tunnels beneath Net.ropolis.
========================================================================
