Kin of Exile

by Tyler Bunyard

  There was something about the way she had spoken that made Karrel think hard about what she had said. Genuine worry was behind her voice. Maybe he had been too quick to judge the girls. Krystalyn had been willing to spend her free time slogging through his woes and sorrows. He never asked her for help. She just recognized the depression and extended a helping hand. The others seemed to put their trust in the demon-sisters as well, with the exception of Puck. Though, in the week that Karrel had known her, Prisca had made Puck’s hypocrisy toward their relationship well-established. Karrel began to think that it was possible the girls now thought of the others as something more than just a means to stay alive. Maybe Krystalyn was trying to do the same thing with him.

  With that final thought in mind, Karrel let slip what he was struggling to admit even to himself. “This was my first time sticking my neck out for other people,” he admitted. “I just can’t shake the feeling that I failed… that I let him die.”

  Krystalyn leaned back against the wall. “The others told me everything that happened at Sinwatch. Angel mentioned you two getting separated…” She fell silent. A look of apprehension overcame her before she risked asking her next question. “Who’s him?”

  Karrel didn’t realize that he had let that word slip. It didn’t matter; he needed to get it off his chest. “A boy,” he confessed. “Couldn’t have had more than ten years on him…”

  “If he was where you and Angel were, that would put him in the dead center of where all the action was.” Krystalyn deduced. “Karrel… he was dead anyways.”

  “You don’t understand!” Karrel raised his voice. “I could have saved him. I know I could have. But I hesitated. There was this voice inside of me, telling me that I wouldn’t survive, and I listened to it.”

  “A voice?” Krystalyn stated curiously, before continuing. “It doesn’t matter what you think held you back. The important thing is that you push past this pain and strive to do better the next time. I don’t want to see you ending up as some depressed husk.” She pushed off from her wall and spun to face the door once more, teasing Karrel, “It would make my little visits a lot less fun.”

  Krystalyn’s words had somehow comforted Karrel. If anything, he felt slightly better than before she had arrived. As she exited the room, Karrel looked up from his dreariness. “Hey, Kristie…” he exclaimed. “Thanks. And, I’m sorry for what I said about you and your sisters.”

  Krystalyn smiled. “Don’t mention it,” she answered. “And also, I’m not the one you need to be apologizing to.” With those final words, she closed the door behind her.

  She was right. Though he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had gone to hell since Sinwatch, there was still a possibility of fixing it. Maybe he shouldn’t regret joining this rambunctious group. If that was the case, apologizing to Angel would be a good start to repairing the damage he had done. For the first time, Karrel was happy that Krystalyn had paid him a late-night visit.

  Chapter 15

  The Past and the Present

  Considering how brilliant Johnny’s mind was, Karrel could not, for the life of him, understand why the living spaces had been built so far from one another. Pretty much every room in the underground base had an intercom in them, so communicating was easy, but talking person to person required the perquisite cardio workout of trudging through the halls. Between the long walk from his room to Angel’s, and the air being expended practicing his lines, Karrel had a legitimate fear of being winded while he gave his apology to Angel.

  His outburst had no doubt been a bit unsavory for everyone else, but Angel was the only person who he had gotten physical with. And, it had been after Angel had shown him nothing but kindness. And, it had been after they all failed to stop a city from burning to the ground. And… Karrel was not looking forward to this…

  Rounding the corner, finally approaching the hall that contained Angel’s room, Karrel caught the sound of another pair of footsteps. They were coming from the other side of the hall. Embarrassed to show himself after the tantrum he had thrown, Karrel ducked back behind the wall of the corridor he had just come from.

  Peaking around the side, to catch a glimpse of who was walking toward Angel’s room, Karrel saw that the other pair of footsteps belonged to Alice. She was still dressed in a pair of dark sweats and a different black jacket, which was still twice her size. It was sort of strange seeing her without a book in hand, as she was always buried in some form of literature or another. Karrel was happy to see that he was not the only one that had to endure the late-night visits. However, as Alice got closer, Krystalyn’s words, that the others were a little more involved with the demon-sisters than they let on, rang through his head.

  Alice arrived at Angel’s door. She shimmied slightly, tugging on a few ends of her outfit, likely attempting to straighten some of the folds on her oversized clothes before knocking on the door. Karrel, still peeking his head out from the corner, watched as Alice twiddled with her hair, making a few last second adjustments before Angel opened his door. A hand came out from the darkness, grabbing Alice by the arm and pulling her into the room. Karrel swore that, for the first time since meeting her, he saw a semblance of a smile form along Alice’s lips. The door closed behind her.

  Looks like Kristie wasn’t messing with my head… Karrel thought to himself. He smiled. Angel did seem to spend a lot of time with Alice, and though she never expressed much emotion, Alice never seemed displeased with Angel’s company.

  Maybe Karrel was clueless after all. Krystalyn had helped him out last night, and if a person who fought demons on the regular, like Angel, was willing to trust the succubus sisters, then maybe Karrel should as well. It was possible that his default instinct of not trusting anyone was holding him back, now that he was in the company of those that genuinely deserved it.

  Not wanting to interrupt what he had just seen, and still feeling restless, Karrel decided to take a stroll through the underground base and clear his mind. The warehouse seemed like the most open place to do so, and with his decision made, he started toward the large storage area.

  As he climbed down the ladder to the ground floor of the warehouse, Karrel felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was a strange feeling, considering where it was coming from. He had been enjoying his time with these people; he really had. In the back of his mind however, he had still been wary of them. Putting your trust in someone can come to bite you on the ass later, and it was not too rare that the bite would be fatal. He thought that would still hold true, even with Angel and his gang. He was happy that he was wrong. For the first time in a long while, Karrel felt like he belonged somewhere, and he was confident that this feeling of belonging would not eventually turn into a hindrance.

  Now, all he needed to do was hope that the others would forgive his recent outburst. It was troubling to think about, but he had built up the courage to face them when the time came. He had planned on visiting Angel first but seeing as how there were sparks coming from Johnny’s laboratory, it seemed like that wasn’t going to be the case.

  Karrel peaked his head around the corner of the door that lead to Johnny’s own personal lab. It was one of the few separated rooms that were located in the gigantic, open-spaced area that was the warehouse. Electronics and tools littered the area. Shelves and cupboards were jam-packed full of utensils and mechanical supplies, while every desk carried multiple computer systems. Thin metal sheets and tiny machinery were scattered about the workplace. In one of the corners, Johnny was holding a tiny, thin, needle-like device in his hand, and whenever he touched it down upon one of the paper-like sheets of metal, sparks would erupt from the tip. Johnny was also wearing a mask over his face as he worked. The lenses on the headgear seemed to help magnify his vision on whatever he was building.

  “Enjoying the show, are we?” Johnny inquired, not looking up from his work.

  Karrel swore underneath his breath. Johnny never had let him into the laboratory before. It was not like anything had chan
ged.

  “My bad,” Karrel sighed. “If you want, I’ll leave you to your business.” However, before Karrel could leave, Johnny raised his hand.

  “No. It’s fine.” Johnny declared. “To be honest, I could use a little company.” He reached for a nearby cup of water but paused before taking a sip. He turned to Karrel, drink still in hand. “Unless, you’re here to destroy another one of our fine pieces of glassware,” he joked.

  Karrel couldn’t help but smile. “No, no…” he chuckled. “I was only after the one.” He had Johnny’s attention, and now was as good a time as ever. Karrel stowed the lax demeanor and began the first of his many apologies. “I wanted to apologize for my outburst. I was frustrated with my own shortcomings at Sinwatch, and I took it out on you guys.”

  Johnny stood for a moment, before nodding in acceptance. He turned back toward his work, waving one of his hands back at Karrel. “Don’t worry about it,” he stated. “To be honest, the fact that you put so much emotion into an event like that gives me high hopes. At the bare minimum, I know you’re not a heartless bastard.”

  Karrel didn’t realize it until he exhaled, but he had been holding his breath. Though there did not seem to be a definitive leader of the group, the others tended to listen to Johnny when the time came. If Johnny was willing to forgive him, Karrel was now sure that the others would as well.

  Excitedly, Karrel proceeded to enter into the laboratory. This was where all of the infamous inventions were made. Surprisingly, there were no turrets, guns, or weapons of any kind lying about the room. There was a ton of equipment, and layer after layer of thin metal sheets, one of which, was still sparking under the care of Johnny’s needle.

  “So, where’s all the fun stuff?” Karrel asked. “Are the mini-bots hiding, or do you keep them somewhere else?”

  “No,” Johnny shook his head, “you’re staring at them.” He lifted his head away from his work desk and looked at his wrist. Lights began to travel across his arm. Karrel, this time, was able to get a good look at what was happening. Both of his arms were covered in a thin, almost-transparent layer of silver coating. Johnny pressed against a few of the lights on his forearm, and the thin sheet of metal he had been zapping shuddered slightly.

  In an instant, Karrel watched as the metal condensed upon itself, forming a tiny version of one of the polyhedronal shapes that had been seen previously on Johnny’s belt. Pressing against several other lights strung across the bottom of his wrist, Johnny’s metallic substance began to move once more. The metal shape reorganized itself into a tiny figure. It stood upon two legs, had two arms and a head, and heavily resembled that of an elementary-level stick-figure drawing. The figure strutted about on the table and gave Karrel a haphazard salute before jumping into the palm of Johnny’s hand.

  “Amazing!” exclaimed Karrel. He was fixated on the miniature stick figure that was now jumping from fingertip to fingertip along Johnny’s hand. “What else can you do with your little nanobots?”

  “I told you before,” Johnny retorted, “I haven’t gotten them small enough to be considered nanites yet. Still, it’s pretty cool what I have gotten them to do right?” Karrel nodded. “I call them my Microscopic Anabolic Instrument Transitioners.”

  Karrel thought about the name for a second before asking, “MAIT? You call them your mates?” This time, Johnny nodded, and the tiny metallic figure hopped up on top of his shoulder and sat down. “Okay,” continued Karrel, “it’s good to know you have a sense of humor.”

  Johnny fiddled with the tiny stick figure on his shoulder. “Well, I used to call them my Microscopic ‘Almost Intelligent’ Transitioners… but that name didn’t pan out for obvious reasons,” Johnny began. “I’ve been working on establishing an artificial intelligence. I’m not talking about those old robots that used to take orders at a restaurant, but a true artificial intelligence. A living machine. But, like my work with nanotech, I’m nowhere near to accomplishing my goal. The byproduct of the research has generated some interesting results however.” Johnny raised his palm to his shoulder and the tiny stick-figure jumped upward and high-fived it. “Once I dumped the code into these little buggers, the acronym sort of formed itself.”

  This humorous side of Johnny was something Karrel had never expected. The yellow-eyed inventor had always been a serious person, and he had never known Johnny to be this talkative about his work. It had only been a few minutes ago that Karrel had finally been allowed into his lab.

  And then it hit him. Karrel was not the only one who had trust issues. Johnny, in the span of a week, had allowed an outsider into his home and revealed many of its inner-most secrets. Trust is a two-way street, and the fact that Johnny was opening up to him now meant that Karrel had not forsaken Johnny’s faith. It felt good, and Karrel made a mental note to remember this feeling as he conversed with his yellow-eyed companion.

  They talked for hours, about many things, but it wasn’t until a mention of the United World Protectorate that Johnny’s attention diverted away from his work.

  “It still blows me away that the UWP doesn’t step in when things like Sinwatch happens,” Karrel babbled. “Tragedies like that are exactly what it was formed to stop, and they’ve got coverage all over the planet. You figure they’d at least step in and help the larger cities…”

  “Trust me,” Johnny exclaimed. “I’ve had enough interaction with the world’s government officials to know how self-centered the people who run it are. Don’t get me wrong, there are a few that join to advocate that the UWP do the job they were originally created to do.” Johnny shook his head, dropping his gaze to the floor. “They’re snuffed out long before they can be heard.”

  “Sure, but don’t they still need at least some outside support?”

  “You haven’t been inside a superdome before, have you?” Johnny asked. Karrel shook his head no, as Johnny had expected. “They’re mostly self-sustained, but they do get some ‘outside support’. In fact, you and Angel were well on your way to becoming ‘outside support’ before you escaped that bandit truck.”

  Karrel hopped onto a nearby desk and threw his head back. “I had always known those bastards were corrupt,” he talked to the ceiling. “I just never took them for being evil. And now demons roam the countryside as if it was normal. Who could have seen this coming?”

  That last comment sparked a fuse inside of Johnny. He jumped on the sentence as soon as Karrel had spouted the words. “People have seen this coming! For decades, even millenniums ago!” Johnny snapped.

  Karrel was taken back by the surge of energy coming from Johnny. He had never broken his composure, but now he had his arms flailing in the air as he ranted. The tiny, metallic stick figure jumped from his shoulder onto a nearby table, before flattening itself out, returning its state to that of a thin metal sheet.

  “We mentioned that we’ve been looking at old works of fiction to study our opponents, correct?” Johnny questioned Karrel.

  “Yeah,” Karrel joked. “Angel mentioned that you guys have been going through some fairy tales.”

  “Mock us all you want, Karrel,” Johnny hissed. “It works.” He picked up a nearby book, which had an illustration of several demonic-like entities on the cover, before patting it a few times. “There is no such thing as an original story. From the dawn of man, up to the present day, every tale that has ever been told has taken ideas from their predecessors.”

  “I’ve heard that before. Good artists borrow. The best steal.”

  Johnny nodded. “It’s not necessarily a bad trait. In fact, it’s how humans have gotten to where we are today. Someone has an idea; another improves upon it. But it makes you wonder, especially with all these stories of monsters…” Johnny chucked the book he was holding onto a nearby table. “…where did the original idea of a ‘demon’ come from?”

  “I suppose from the actual demons themselves?” Karrel inquired.

  “Exactly! We’ve had years’ worth of documentation on these creatures,” Johnny ranted
, “yet due to the ravages of time, the texts eventually become jumbled into fiction. The popular texts end up hiding the boring, informative works that they stole from. Yet, the fact remains that from these stories, we can tell that demons have been seen on Earth millenniums before they decided to launch their full-scale invasion.”

  Karrel had never really thought about the relationship between the monsters he had been fighting and the old stories he used to read. He always considered it a coincidence that referring to the creatures as demons became commonplace.

  Johnny continued his rant, “The greatest folly of mankind is that we have never put our trust in history. We always think that the times have changed, that things are different now, and that we are smart enough to avoid a rerun of history, even when we repeat the same steps that had been taken before. Throughout time, we have always chosen to ignore what was right in front of us in the first place, and to just let things blow over rather than do something about it.”

  Johnny grabbed another book. This one had nothing but a small cross on the cover. Karrel took notice of what is was. “I didn’t realize you were religious,” he teased.

  Johnny maintained his serious demeanor. “I’m not,” he replied. “This book serves as an example. It represents one of many religions that became so popularized, that in some regions, it was the norm to be a part of it. Funnily enough, the stories in this book are actually based upon the texts of another religion that came before it. And that one’s texts are based upon another one that came even earlier. It turns out, that all of these religious stories base their monsters upon the works of two ancient scientists, who were conducting a study on an abnormal creature they had discovered ‘emerging from an orange rip in the desert.’ They had found the first demon, and documented their discoveries on stone.”

  “This is all very interesting,” Karrel replied, his curiosity genuine, “but I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”