“Shock them titties!” shouted one of the other boys over the noise.
“Yeah, put it in between!” called out another.
Nox held the eel to Lucas’s chest while the other boys kept him still. The eel showed its teeth and slithered against Lucas’s bare chest. The group of boys erupted in laughter loud enough to hear over the concentrated ocean noise.
“How come it isn’t shocking him?” Asked one of the boys to Nox.
“How should I know?” he answered. “Maybe eels like big titties.”
Nox became impatient and, with the stick, rubbed the squirming eel all over Lucas. The eel tried to wiggle his head into Lucas’s armpit.
Although he was trembling so much that his teeth were chattering, Lucas wasn’t electrocuted. The animal still didn’t feel threatened enough to shock him. It wrapped itself in different directions around the stick, struggling to breathe.
Nox had a contingency plan apparently. He shouted, “Oh do I have an idea! Let’s put it up his ass!”
Lucas felt his underwear slide down his legs and cold air hitting everything. At that point, his body produced nothing but pure panic. He struggled to free himself from the boys’ grip, but he was too weak and they were too strong. He felt the eel’s head exploring his backside while he heard excitement building in the boys.
“Get it to swim up!” One shouted.
Just then, someone let some light into the chamber.
Morgan stood at the door, looking like an angry bull. He had just finished running around the school’s dirt track and his muscles were showing. He looked at Nox like the next wrong move would mean a fight of cosmic proportions.
“Get out!” Morgan growled.
“What are you doing here, Battle?” Asked Nox. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Maybe it does,” said Morgan. He softened his expression slightly, telling Lucas, “It’s OK. Put your clothes back on.”
The group of boys was clearly intimidated by Morgan’s presence. They dropped the sticks and started backing toward the door.
Nox Jaborosa, however, didn’t want the fun to end.
“Morgan,” he said, “you know me. What are you doing? You know what I am. You know nothing’s gonna stop me from doing what I do. Nothing ever.”
“Get out, Nox,” Morgan said so plainly that it barely cut over the noise.
“Morgan,” Nox smiled, “How’s Brian? It’s a shame our families don’t get together more often. My dad likes Brian and doesn’t even have much bad to say about you.”
Morgan told him, “Your dad is a degenerate piece of garbage. And don’t you ever say my brother’s name again.”
“So you really want trouble?” Nox asked, looking almost disappointed. “My kind of trouble? Really?”
“I can handle your kind of trouble.”
Nox smirked and gestured to his friends that it was time to leave. “Fine,” he said, pointing to Lucas, “haul your new friend, the sperm whale, out of here. We’ll leave you to it. But Morgan, spend tonight thinking about all the things you know I’ve done.”
After Nox and the other boys left, Lucas started crying. He told Morgan, “We need to get the eel to one of the Lorrance ports before it dies.”
Morgan was surprised to hear about the eel after everything that had happened. He knelt down next to Lucas, telling him, “Of course we will.”
However, when they looked over, the eel had stopped squirming and its big, pale blue eyes were flared wide open.
“I’m sorry,” Morgan said, “but I think it was out of the water too long. I think it’s dead.”
Lucas cried harder, mumbling, “those assholes.” He turned to Morgan, telling him, “Thank you for helping me.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ve hated playing nice with Nox over the years. Don’t think I’m horrible for saying this but someone really should kill him. I swear he doesn’t have a soul.”
Morgan pulled Lucas outside the noise dampener to an abrupt quiet. The gale sounds were replaced with a distant crash and hiss.
Lucas took the end of his sleeve, wiping the tears and snot from his face. He tried to stand up but he was still shaky. Morgan helped him by the hand.
“You feeling alright?” Morgan asked him.
“I never feel alright,” he said.
After he caught his breath, Lucas carried the dead electric eel and buried it in some loose, shallow sand nearby the tower.
He asked Morgan, “How did you know to find me?”
“Strix told me. Before I left for school, he said you were gonna need my help when classes let out. He even said you were gonna be inside the tower. I was pretty confused. I didn’t even know these things had insides. So I ran out of class, did a lap around the track to get ready in case I had to fight, and came over.”
“Strix told me not to go to school today,” said Lucas, staring at the plot of disturbed dirt. “I think he was trying to protect me. But I didn’t listen. That’s why he sent you.”
“Nox isn’t just a bully.”
“I know.”
“Our families knew each other when I was younger. He was horrible even then. He scared me. But not as much as his father. I always remember, for some reason, he hated Nox, his own kid. Didn’t make sense to me. When we were little, he would go off on him for no reason at all, smack the hell out of him and scream at him until he cried. He loved to do it in front of us too. The old man is sick. If you can believe it, Nox is actually a kinder, gentler chip off the old block.”
…
Chapter 9
Elixir
Over the years, there had been a number of attempts to bring down the Bastion. Most involved blasts to the exterior, resulting in nothing but a dusting to the structure, without so much as a scratch or dent to the edifice. Lorrance’s titanium alloy, once forged, seemed to claim its space forever.
Through all the years, the Bastion had only been under significant threat twice.
Five years before, an overworked Bastion pump engineer let the noise from a Nor’easter go to his head. Storm madness eventually blossomed into full psychosis. He walked into work one morning and exploded a hundred pounds of dynamite in one of the interior corridors, near the wall’s storm stabilization system. The blast created a legendary hollow boom that reached all the way up New Mountain but it barely swayed the Bastion’s counterbalances. The suspended spheres were also Lorrance alloy and near planetary in size. They could fend off the force from a wave beyond imagination.
Only a year after that, four members of a militant anarchist group set off a stolen bunker buster bomb near the top of the wall. The blast killed several maintenance workers but again the wall stood stoic as ever.
Callista never forgot these attacks. In the years after, she had frequent nightmares of the Bastion breaking and her house surrounded by ocean. Sometimes she would wake up, screaming for her father. The passing of time made the dream a less frequent visitor but it never left her entirely.
That night, Callista woke up after midnight with her heart nearly humming in her chest and a coat of sweat on her face. She immediately checked to find the Bastion secure and the Atlantic held back. The blinking red beacon at the top of the wall told her she was safe.
She did see something very out of the ordinary. At least ten unfamiliar cars were parked in the front driveway. It was unprecedented for her father to entertain guests so late. Whatever the affair was, it appeared to be ending.
From her window, she watched the guests, a coterie of politicians and corporate suits, as they pulled away from the front of the house in their limousines.
After they left, she found her father in his study. He looked pale and flustered, like a man who had just finished a game of Russian Roulette. His hands trembled as he fixed himself a drink from the small bar in the corner. The man only rarely drank, stocking the bar mostly for his business associates and guests.
He was surprised to see his daughter standing in the doorway.
“Who were those
people, daddy?” She asked him.
“Nobody you need to worry about,” he said, taking a clumsy sip and checking out the window at the emptying driveway.
“I thought you would have asked me to come if you were having a party,” She said. “You usually introduce me to everyone.”
Normally, Callista’s father brought her to every conceivable corporate and business function. She had grown used to being introduced to the wives and husbands of her father’s colleagues as a spouse of sorts.
“That was hardly a party,” he told her. He kept his eyes fixed on the limos out the window. “It was more like an execution.”
“What do you mean? Who were those people?”
“I guess they’re the people that matter,” he said without looking at her.
“Why are you acting so strangely? You’re scaring me.”
He turned to her, saying, “I’m sorry, Callie.” He sat down in his desk chair and guided her over to his lap. After she sat down on his thighs, he whispered into her ear, “Let’s forget about the party. I haven’t seen you all day.”
“I had that nightmare again last night. I was all by myself and the house was surrounded by nothing but water.”
“It’s been years since the last time you had that dream. What do you think brought it on?”
“I think it’s mom,” she told him. “I was thinking about the night she ran away.”
“Don’t think about that,” he said. “You don’t want to remember your mother that way.”
“Do you think I’ll get storm madness the way she did?”
“Definitely not.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know, Callie.”
“You hate talking about it,” She said. “I know. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about that night lately. I can’t seem to remember much. It’s just bits and pieces. Do you think it’ll ever come back to me?”
Her father looked like death had whispered in his ear. He fidgeted with her hair between his fingers and sighed. “I imagine you will,” he told her. “Someday.”
“A storm is coming.”
“Why would you say that? What do you mean?” He sounded as though he had been accused of a crime.
Callista pointed to the office window, out to the horizon where bolts of lightning tangled in a cloud darker than vacuum itself. “I mean there’s a storm coming,” she said. “It’ll probably get bad near the Bastion tonight.”
When Callista finished washing up and made it to her bedroom, Strix was lighting up the room like the aurora borealis. His synthetic polymer feathers beamed like facets of a disco ball. Strix’s eyes had come to full electronic life, watching her as she walked into her commodious room.
“How was the discussion with your father?” Strix asked.
“You heard us?”
“Of course,” said the owl. “Our hearing is quite sensitive. You know we’ve been analyzing the data from our discussions and we believe we can correlate certain patterns from your voice. Do we detect a distressed tonality to your voice? Sadness or perhaps nausea?”
“I’m not feeling nauseous,” she said. “It’s my Dad. I…never mind.”
“Do you feel like your dad isn’t being honest with you?”
“Yes, yes, that’s just it,” she said, taking a seat across from Strix. “My dad and I have this thing together. We tell each other everything. We’re best friends.”
“We see.”
“It’s just…Well, he had some people over the house tonight and they looked important. He normally tells me all about his day, his work, all the important people he meets. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell me what it was about. That isn’t like him.”
“That’s very interesting,” said Strix.
“Something is wrong,” She said. “I know it. Something has been bothering him for weeks but he won’t talk about it.”
“Male humans,” said Strix, “sometimes keep emotions to themselves.”
“That isn’t it,” she said. “He’s hiding something.”
“We see,” Strix said, before pausing for a moment. The computer was performing a complex calculation about what to say next. “Callista,” Strix went on, “Your father has had a difficult time since your mother’s death. It’s possible that he wants to shield you from any unnecessary pain.”
“I guess,” she said, sounding unconvinced. Changing the subject, she asked, “How is the experiment going, you know, you and me?”
“Splendidly,” said Strix. “We’re learning so much from our communications. Do you like speaking with us?”
“Yes,” said Callista, “I do like talking to you. Would it be OK if I asked you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you know anything about the other experimental subjects, besides me?”
“Yes, we have detailed files on all three of you.”
“The one that came to my school…the rude one?”
“Morgan Battle,” said Strix. “What would you like to know about him, Callista?”
“Why did he come to visit me?”
“Because we instructed him to do so.”
“Why?”
“Your interactions as social creatures are useful to our research.”
“Am I going to see him again?”
“Would you like to?”
“I suppose if it’s necessary for the experiment.”
…
Down the hill, Morgan couldn’t escape the sound of his father shouting, singing and cursing the Atlantic Ocean downstairs.
The racket cut above even the roar of hundred foot waves smacking the Bastion. The titanium rang and the ground shook from the impact. Morgan’s bedroom seemed like a wheelhouse on a crab boat that night. Morgan didn’t mind the storm but his father’s yelling always quickened his pulse.
The old man had apparently reached new heights with his anxiety medication. He was hollering his own name, talking to himself and cracking up with laughter. “Killian Battle! Killian Battle! Killian Battle can’t be broken! Whoo! Hoo! Try to take me, you bitch-ass ocean! Give Killian Battle all you got!”
Then came the sound of glass shattering across the kitchen.
Morgan’s little brother, Brian, was awake and chewing his blanket the way he did when he was terrified. “I can’t tell if he’s happy or mad,” he told Morgan. “I think he might be both. Why can’t he decide?”
“I don’t know why,” Morgan told him. “He’s so blasted that he’s bound to pass out soon. We can be happy about that.”
“He scared me today before you got home from school.”
“What do you mean? What did he do?” Morgan asked, sounding like a concerned parent. He helped Brian up on the bed.
“He was standing at the door,” Brian explained. “He looked real mad. It looked like he had eaten a bunch of those pills. He was shifting all around on his feet and leaning.”
“What happened?”
“He said something strange. I didn’t understand. Then he walked away. He was laughing after he said it.”
“What was it?”
“He looked at me and said, ‘I can’t believe that bitch fooled me for so long.’ Then he left. But…”
“But…what?”
“It looked like he wanted to kill me.”
“No, no,” Morgan tried to reassure him. “He is just acting weird on those pills.”
“Will you protect me?”
“You better believe it.”
Brian eventually went back to sleep and Morgan noticed Strix’s eyes were glowing.
“I was wondering when you were going to say something,” he told the owl.
“We prefer to speak only with experimental subjects,” Strix said. “You seem anxious tonight, Morgan. Is it the storm?”
“No, it’s not the storm. I’m plenty used to storms. My dad may not be able to handle the noise but it’s no problem for me. I’m not afraid,” he said.
Strix softly blinked and hummed while computing w
hat to say. It asked, “Why did you lie to your brother?”
“What do you mean? I didn’t lie to Brian.”
“You told him he was in no danger from your father. We both know that isn’t true.”
“There’s no sense in scaring him,” Morgan admitted. “He has it hard enough.”
“When the time comes, you’ll need to protect him.”
“Where are you coming up with this? Why are you saying this to me?”
“From simple observation, Morgan.”
“Listen, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I don’t want him to hear us.”
“Understood,” said Strix. “After all, there is another matter we need to discuss. We want you to…”
“To see her?”
“Why, yes,” said Strix with its lights beaming a sort of smile. “This time, however, we would like both you and Lucas to meet Callista at the old Tsunami Watchtower near your campus.”
“When?”
“Now, Morgan.”
“But the storm.”
“The storm is no danger and there is an opportunity for you three tonight that cannot be squandered.”
The owl told Morgan he would need to sneak out his bedroom window and bring along a flashlight because the storm had hidden the moon.
…
Callista made a clandestine exit from her house that night as well. Her father had fallen asleep in his office, so she knew she had some time. She carried her shoes and tiptoed out of the house. Strix came along in her messenger bag.
The ocean was having quite a tantrum that night, with chaotic winds blowing in every direction and sending peaks of waves smacking into one another. The air shook from the agitation. It was as though she was at the edge of space, with the big bang just beyond the Bastion.
…
Lucas woke that night with Strix’s eye’s beaming red and blue.
“Lucas, our friend, Lucas, please wake up,” said the electromechanical owl.
“What is it?” He mumbled, before wheezing and coughing up phlegm. “I have to get up tomorrow.”
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