by Micah Thomas
***
Henry let himself back in the motel room and didn't see Wiseman.
"Hello?" he called.
He checked the bathroom and dropped the sack of burgers on the ground. Wiseman was in the tub, naked and laying his bleeding wrists in the warm water.
"Why?" Henry asked.
"Because all is lost and because they'll be looking for this body. It's important that I leave it before confronting him."
"What happens when you die?"
"The miracle of death is different for us. If I was to lose my host here in your world, I don't really know. Despite the myths so loved by Denzel, my kind has not been here in your world before. Maybe some other beings, but not us."
"There's others? More than just you and me?" Henry asked, kneeling beside the tub.
"Should I try to save you? Get 911?" Henry asked, reeling in shock.
"Oh, no. Henry, I showed you our history, thought you'd understand, truly understand that we are not gods, not infallible, and do not have all the answers. When we came to awareness so long ago, we were never told of our creators, if we had any, and among ourselves segregated and conquered the lesser entities we found in the lands we made our home. Perhaps they came first, a test pancake if you will, you know, the misshapen ones that you'll certainly eat, but are not the final incarnation. But we had reasoning and they were more like animals, like your fire. But time passed. We were sleeping in our graves, when you came with your world with its infinite tactile sensation and emotional roller coaster beings you call people... Our wealth was depleted. Stasis resulting from our own grandeur and boredom with the endless stalemates. We slept to conserve, like a tick on a branch waiting for decades until someone walks beneath it. We had only ourselves to know, our squabbles long unresolved in our apparent equality. Nothing ever changed, but you came to us, and I alone was awake and I alone saw the risk where others would see opportunities, victims. One such other is coming now."
"Where will you go?"
"I've been in this skin for too long. There used to be a voice in here with me, just like you are still you, but more and more, as you share and experience cohabitation with the fire, what will become of you? Will it remain a part of you, growing in strength until you are overcome? Ah, but you're strong and it's not particularly demanding of your rational faculties. Not like me. I silenced the man that was, tried to make him comfortable, but ultimately, I think he must have fallen into a deep sleep."
"What will this 'other that's coming' do?"
"Take your innocence. Open you up to things that were not meant for your biologies. Restart the engines of order, all to recreate what he did before. Change you into something like us. The path is replication, and there's no future in it. We had our millennia to reach that end."
"Is that so bad? People are fucked up as it is."
"To lose your humanity, I can think of no greater crime. If a father could live his child's life for him, who profits? The father. The child would be robbed of their chance."
"Can I stop it? With fire?" Henry asked.
"No."
"This is very frustrating."
"I know."
They sat in silence as he bled out. Henry felt a terrible sorrow, but didn't do anything to stop it. Eventually, Wiseman was there and then he was gone. Henry looked at the body with his eyes, an elderly man dead in a bathtub. Without thinking, his energy shifted and he saw with the fire's double perception, and a glowing web of energy stretched out to infinity and dissipated into nothing. Wiseman was gone. After all this shit, Henry wasn't sure anyone would even come for the body, but the idea of a dissection team from Black Star, taking apart this strange old man made him sad. He was just a naked old man, brown skin pruning at the finger tips, laying in a tub where blood mixed with water. Henry had heard Christians talk about how the body was just a husk, a shell. He thought now, it's true. Frail things. Temporary houses.
Henry guessed it was time for a Viking funeral. He barely knew the man, but he felt he had to do this.
His fire inside was quick to respond. Henry felt the resistance in the water, water and blood, and the quicker bag of already decomposing chemicals we call a body. There it was. The bonds sought to change state and chemical reactions gave way to flame in the corpse biology. The water went next boiling and rapidly evaporating in the intense heat. With flash, there were only ashes in the ceramic tub. Henry and the spirit were of one mind that this was good enough and the fire abated. Something had happened, something subtle. Henry felt a pinch in his head, an ache, and what? The feeling of watching a penny dropped in a heat register, some downward pinging inside.
Something had happened, but he couldn't feel the fire as clearly inside him. In fact, he felt fine. Calm and clear headed. The idea of taking a walk came to him, and he followed it. Why not? He had met the wizard of Black Star, and the man behind the curtain was gone. He knew a bit more about what lived inside him, but what of it? Should he be worried about the coming others? Maybe, but that could wait, he decided in his new-found calm. Everything was as it should be.
***
Erik missed Sandy. Without someone else to play with, his mental passenger tormented him instead. Filling him alternately with self-loathing and lapping up those dark feelings of inadequacy with relish. Erik tried to barter, but the thing either didn't understand words or didn't fucking care what he thought. He knew that in his heart he had always wanted to take something away from those that had everything, but he thought that his friend would do more work. Instead, he'd felt his own hands manipulated into touching people, hurting them. He didn't hate the violence, that part felt great, but he didn't like the touching bit. He wished he could just look at a person and make them explode in flames. That was cool as fuck. This was sticky and gross.
A car horn blared as Erik drifted across lanes, before straightening out.
"I'm telling you, I need to focus to drive!" he yelled at himself.
The more mental space the creature consumed, images bleeding over Erik's sight, the harder it was to operate the car. He hadn't driven a car in years anyways. Black Star covered rent, frozen TV dinners, meds, and internet. Shut ins don't need driving privileges.
Erik now knew where they were going at least. Detours aside, signs pointed to Vegas. With the other's help in his mind, he could almost see the sparking flame of his real friend on the horizon like a golden compass. The closer they got, the brighter it became. Erik didn't know, and would like to know, who he was looking for. He thought of this guy like a jock version of the mythological Prometheus, a dick that stole fire from the gods. I should be the fire god, he thought angrily.
Abruptly, the spark went out on the horizon. What the absolute fuck, he thought.
"Where to now?" he asked, knowing that words wouldn't be the answer.
Had someone already got to the fire and snuffed it out? He felt a pull and sense of direction as they entered the Vegas strip. It would be here, at this place, he knew. Not just the fire, but there would be others. Erik had no idea how this information came to him. It was like a digital download to his brain, and he just knew it. Along with this knowledge, that this place was special, he knew that to attract the fire, he'd have to light a beacon, another fire, so it could recognize him. He'd have to be sneaky. He'd have to be smart and do this right. If anyone tried to stop him, they'd fuck them up good. The plan restored his confidence and he ditched the car on a side street. No one could stop him, he thought as he entered a hardware store for supplies. All the ingredients he needed to kick it off were there. Now it was just a matter of timing.
***
Cassie and Laura had enjoyed a carefree day of sun tanning, designer bottled water, top shelf drinks, and reliving the pop sensations from their teen past. They'd realized that despite their almost accidental arrival in Vegas, there was some event that had doubled, maybe tripled the visiting population. This meant more crowds than an ostrich festival, and far more than the Bonhurst Arts. If it weren't for their exclusive
accommodations and the access it brought, they'd have little reprieve from the maddening crowds. It was bigger than the biggest show card fight night. It was on everyone's lips, and Cassie felt so very out of the loop. Laura was almost dismissive about it, citing a nun-like, sacred vow to never watch politics. What would Wiseman say to the president? Could the country handle finding out the truth about allegations ranging from child sex rings, substance abuse, an incident with golden showers and Russian prostitutes, all the way to collusion with the enemy and eventual conspiracy to cover up the same? Cassie didn't know and didn't care, but everyone had an opinion as they chattered about little else. The whole thing was big business for the casinos, too. Sure, she thought, come to the show, but put a coin in the slot while you're here.
Cassie had put her coin in, too, but didn't win anything. Maybe her extraordinary luck had run out. She was ready for that. A return to normalcy where fictional jobs searching out pyrokinetic runaways don't just materialize and tempt her to drop everything. She'd needed a little time away from Laura and had donated the remainder of her chips to Laura's care, with a halfhearted understanding that they'd share any winnings. Cassie still had a surplus from her last Black Star payment and was not interested in culling anything Laura could make of the free money. It was little payment for the pleasure of Laura's company. Cassie regretted her isolation in recent years. Female friendship hadn't been high on her priority list since girlhood, but she had turned the corner on that. Laura had shown her just how nurturing, supportive and fucking fun it was to have friends.
Cassie sat in the hotel bar closed off from the casino floor, that despite the throngs of people in town, appeared to have been forgotten. Thankfully and blessedly, there were no flat screens inside. She needed a break from the chyrons spelling death, doom, and collective hysteria. The world was going mad. Maybe it was always like this, but she'd had time apart and coming back to the 24-hour news cycle was jarring and weird.
There were a few patrons taking turns at karaoke, but mostly the KJ was doing the singing and not a bad job at that. The night was young, she supposed as she had another cocktail. She didn't normally drink, but there was something comforting in the mellow buzz, so much less intense than doing mushrooms and getting high. The joys of being a wallflower let her laugh as bathroom shower singers gave it their all in renditions of 'I've Got Friends In Low Places,' and 'What's Going On.' She'd never been a singer, and was practically terrified of the sound of her own voice, much more so than the fear of being on stage. Nonetheless, when the KJ singled her out, and beckoned her to the stage, her resistance left her pretty quick. After all, it's not like anyone knew her here.
Henry walked into the bar as Cassie began her song, Bizarre Love Triangle by New Order, because that is how things work. Coincidence and accident merge into funny lines of converging fate. Siblings separated by adoption in China end up working in the same hospital in Florida. Lost wedding rings show up in the ocean sand, returned to lovers who had long given up hope. Henry thought these things, still following some unstated set of commands in his mind, to be chill, to ruminate, and isn't it great how things work out?
Of all the places in all the world, should or shouldn't this be surprising? His walk had taken him on complete, meandering autopilot to this place and this moment. He sat down in the back and ordered an iced tea. He'd thought, why a bar? He doesn't drink, but he felt pulled inside anyways. Still wearing his grandfather's suit, he struggled to keep the jacket closed to conceal the blood on the white shirt. He walked right into the hotel, through the lobby, across the noisy casino floor, pinging with endless cacophony. He paused at the art on the ceiling. A large blown glass sun sent flames out across the painted sky. This was his first time in a casino. He figured he must look at least respectable enough to gamble, despite the growing presence of wrinkles in the suit, to not be immediately identified as homeless. Not that he was concerned with appearances. He was drawn here and so he came. When he saw Cassie on the stage singing her heart out to the old, new wave song, he knew that this was where he was supposed to be.
The song was sweet, about love and longing. He waived the bartender away and had an epiphany. He watched her and knew, in the way you know things in a dream, that he loved her, that he was in love with her, that she was the one he felt from a distance these last few weeks. He knew that it sounded crazy. That everything he had to say about his life sounded crazy. It was like his heart had been a closed box, and it opened now as he fixed his eyes on Cassie's smile. So utterly familiar, so deeply wonderful. Why had he left her when did? What would have happened if he had stayed put that day?
Cassie came down from the little stage, the KJ congratulated her before starting another show tune. She made it back to her seat and gulped at her drink, still surprised that she'd had the nerve to sing in front of strangers. She'd felt something funny up there. An internal lock clicking forward at the urging of some unknown key. The feeling was still fresh on her mind when she noticed someone pulling up a seat next to her. She braced to politely brush off someone's advances, half expecting it to be Laura back from the tables. Recognition hit her like load of bricks. This was what she had felt. It was him. He'd found her. He was sitting next to her, listening to the song, looking up at the KJ with a half smile. She let his hand take hers in a warm and gentle grip. He wore a suit, a fresh shave and much more of a tan than when they met, but it was Henry at last.
When the song finished, he leaned over and she thought he might say something, but instead, he kissed Cassie lightly on her cheek and didn't pull away. She could feel his body heat, and it was so warm, almost hot, but he smelled good. It felt good, too. She didn't want to break the spell. The world was slowed down and she could stay in that moment forever. She closed her eyes and just felt it, that connection she'd been sensing, now a closed circuit. It didn't make sense, but it was right.
"I found you," she whispered.
"Uh huh," he said in a breathy whisper of his own.
In the time since Black Star, Henry had been to hell and back. Drugged and pushed beyond human limits of exhaustion and bizarre experience. He'd not felt a single sexy moment in all that. He hadn't even wondered about jerking off or anything, but now, in this hand-holding closeness, he felt his flesh respond to Cassie. He wanted her. Oh god, he wanted her. How could he possibly say anything that mattered right now? He was torn inside. He wanted to tell her everything he'd seen, everything he'd done, but mostly he wanted to kiss those lips and eyes, her indigenous nose shape, the curve of her neck. Did she feel the same? Did she feel anything? Was she merely tolerating his presence until she could signal for security to haul him away?
Cassie said, "I have a room here. It's really nice. We should go."
"Ok," Henry replied.
"You have to let me stand up," she said smiling.
Henry pulled back and time resumed its normal flow. Suddenly the noise of the bar was harsh in his ears and he wondered how they'd been able to hear each other at all. They stood and walked through the casino floor, still holding hands. As they reached the elevators, Laura caught up with them.
"Hey!" Laura called.
Cassie, dreamlike and slow turned and waived with her free hand. Laura looked at her with a quizzical glance. The female code, asking without words, are you ok? Are you really taking this guy back to your room? Do you need me to go or stay?
"Laura, this is Henry. I found him," Cassie said smiling and slightly swinging their locked hands at her side.
"Oh my god! That's great!" Laura said, appropriately gauging the situation with a grin.
Henry smiled but didn't say anything.
"We have a lot of catch up on. See you a bit later?" Cassie said, too giddy to worry about the implied subtext.
"Oh, sure. You kids have fun," Laura said, figuring that she'd give them space.
The elevator dinged and Henry and Cassie got in, laughing like kids.
He leaned against her body, mouth searching for her ear and kissing the lobe
.
"I want to tell you something. A lot of things actually," he said.
"Oh yeah?" she replied, "I want to tell you something too."
The elevator arrived at their floor before he answered. They walked fast, anxious to get in the room.
"Holy shit," Henry said on seeing the suite, "how did you pay for this?"
"It doesn't matter," she said, kissing him deeply and then leading him to her room and closing the door behind them.
***
Hakim. Erik. Wiseman. Henry. How does one triage this? Cynthia thought, alone in her executive apartment at Black Star Institute.
She turned on a panel of monitors in her private office, adjoining her sleeping quarters. There may be a media blackout in half the world, and news blasting out commentators speculating on the president in the other half, but the satellite that Wiseman devised for them gave her unrestricted viewing of the planet. Imaging vectors light years ahead of what anyone else, including governments had. The Indian subcontinent now large sections of geography dotted with acres of blue force fields stretching to the sky. Animals passed freely, apparently untroubled by the blueish light. People on the other hand, were either in, or out. From intel gathered, the domes were preceded by announcements, spread through hijacked technology or by agents of Hakim himself. People could stay and live in the promised land, or leave. Established governments, military, and business were uniformly disrupted. There are no reports of deaths directly attributed to the domes, but once erected, communication stops completely. Despite her knowledge of the prime mover behind this, Cynthia could only speculate what was going on inside.
