Blackjack Villain

by Ben Bequer

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  She shook her head, looking down.

  “If we shimmy back a bit,” I continued, “we can get right on top of it and drop down.”

  “It’s two-hundred feet, easily,” she protested.

  “Maybe, maybe more. But you can slow your descent with your power, right?”

  Apogee shrugged, “doesn’t help you, though.”

  “I’ll have to take my chances,” I said.

  “Ok,” she started. “You have to stop being such a damned guy. Use your head, for once!”

  “I am.”

  “No you’re not!” Apogee snapped. “I mean, have you noticed the hurricane-force crosswinds. And say you do manage to fall on the mark, you might break through. I can’t fly, Blackjack, if you fall through you’re dead.”

  “So what do you suggest? I don’t have any arrows. I don’t even have a bow.”

  “I don’t know,” she said defensively. “You replicated that machine after seeing it for, like, one minute.”

  “I had Haha for that,” I said.

  “Haha made it faster, right? He made it so it took a few hours instead of weeks. But you could have made it regardless, right?”

  I didn’t bother answering. She was seeing only the danger of the jump down, when I could see the escape so close to us. It was a risk worth taking.

  “Right?” she continued. “I heard you talking about a forge and an anvil and all that stuff.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “Maybe.”

  “So think of something now, Dale. You’re the super smart engineer. Figure it out.”

  I knelt on the floor, “What could we use?” I asked. She wore that dress, now covered in dirt and blood, but perhaps it was of some material we could use.

  “Let me see,” I said, standing by her and tearing some of the material off. It was some soft silk, totally useless to bear weight.

  “Hey,” she protested, as I tore off far more than I had intended.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve seen it before,” I said dismissively, looking around for something else to use.

  I looked at the edges of the hole on the wall. There were some sort of fibrous filaments that had burned when we fired the guns. I gripped one of the charred ends of the filaments and pulled, finding it almost impossible to even tear them off the wall using all my strength. That was it, except instead of pulling against them, where their tensile strength was at its greatest, maybe I could find a way to tear along the fiber.

  I couldn’t find any filament against the smooth floor or walls, so I punched into the inside wall, breaking through until my fist was well embedded. I grabbed some of the fibers and tore back, along the wall. It made a sound like tearing apart a coconut, as I kept pulling the handful more and more along the wall.

  “Mind giving me a hand here?”

  Apogee saw the goopy wet fibers in my hand and shook her head.

  “That’s too slippery,” she protested. “It’s got too much of that gel stuff on it.”

  “Yeah, but you can burn it off with your power. And maybe you can rip off some more from the wall, since you’re faster than me. We’re going to need a few hundred feet of it.”

  She grabbed a loose end of the fibers and ran her charged right hand over them, the heat of her power melting off the gel. Madelyne smiled, as she tested the strength of the fibers.

  “See?” she said. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

  * * *

  While I continued tearing at the wall she followed, searing the separate fibers into one. We moved backwards along the tunnel the way we had come, both silently working. I would rip a few feet off, then shift a few steps over and get another good grip and rip some more out. She was behind me, picking up the fibers as I ripped them off, waving her charged hand along the rope we were making, melting the gel, and then twisting it a few times until it congealed together.

  After about ten minutes, we figured we had a rope long enough to reach down there.

  I took one of the captured guns and burst another hole in the wall, peeking out to look for the bridge and platform. We were much closer, almost perfectly atop the span leading out.

  “Better?” I said, moving out of the way so she could look down.

  “Much,” she retorted. “But what are we going to secure the rope to?”

  I smiled. “Ye of little faith,” I said and fired the gun, making another hole, about the size of the first one, beside it.

  “Give me the end,” I said, digging through the pile of rope, now several hundred feet long.

  “Wait, wait!” she protested. “I have it organized.” She moved a pile aside and handed me an end. “There.”

  I took the end of the rope and threaded it outside one hole and back in the other, then tied it with a figure-8 follow-through knot, with the leftover rope tail tied in a fisherman’s backup knot.

  “That should hold us, if anything can.”

  She’d been quiet the whole time we were making the rope, probably awash with strange memories buzzing in her head, not knowing how to feel about them, now that they were fresh. One thing was for certain, Zundergrub’s power over her was fading faster and faster.

  “Now,” I said, seemingly talking to myself. “The safest way to do this is for me to lower you. Then you can anchor the rope for me to come down. Sounds good?”

  She nodded.

  I took the last ten feet or so of the rope on the other end, and shot it off, making it into a waist harness much like the one we had used to traverse across the shards. I handed it to her and she put it on, then I tied the new, burned end of the rope to the harness using a figure-8-on-a-bight knot which was better to tie a haul line onto a harness.

  “You sure this is going to hold?”

  I nodded. “The rope should hold fine. And the knots are good.”

  She looked into my eyes, trusting me with her life now.

  “It’ll hold,” I said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

  The truth was I hadn’t told her everything. The rope was strong, sure, and it would hold her weight, which was meager. The problem wasn’t even getting her down, despite the terrible cross-winds and the small target to hit. No, that part was easy compared to getting me down. I’d have to rappel or zip line all the way down without the proper gear or equipment, and one slip would be fatal.

  She inched towards the edge and I got a good grip of the rope. It was thick and fibrous. It felt strong. But for a moment, I was afraid it would break.

  Apogee had one hand on the rope, a foot or so from her midsection. Her other hand she reached out, and I took it, using it to help her out, to steady her as she was about to hop out.

  I held her hand with my right and the rope with my left, but as she took another step down and back, I had to let go of her, concentrating on the rope.

  She squeezed our grip and stared at me closely.

  “You have me?”

  I nodded. I could only see her upper body and face now as she took another couple of gingerly steps down.

  “I have like five more steps of footing,” she shouted over the wind. “Then I’m loose.”

  I let her take the lead, the next few steps until I suddenly felt a hard tug, and knew that she had hopped off and was dangling from the rope. In my strong arms, she weighed nothing, so I released the rope perhaps faster than I should have, as I inched forward to see down.

  Her downward progress was good, but by my estimation she would be off by a bit, missing the bridge to the platform by twenty or thirty feet. But I didn’t have time to think of that now, as I let go of the rope little by little, watching Apogee get farther and farther from me.

  The crosswinds were harsh, forcing her away from the bridge, but she turned her body to face the wind, and assumed a position much like a falling skydiver, to ride into the winds more gracefully. As she got closer to level with the bridge, I saw her looking up, worried about the gap to her destination, but I started rocking her back and forth. />
  She swayed forwards then back again and again, coming closer to the bridge. I had plenty of rope, so I was able to drop her to increase her arc. But she was really far from the bridge, so I started straining, putting all my strength into her swaying motion, until she could almost touch it.

  Finally, she crashed into it harder than I had wanted. But she was ready for it, grabbing the edge and forcing herself on the surface of the bridge.

  Apogee took a second’s pause, then stood and braced herself for my crossing. Once she was set, she gave her a thumb’s up. Then I held onto the rope and swung over, retracing her footsteps down the outside edge of the tube, and reaching the empty chasm. The rope was strong enough to hold me after the strain the winds had put on it while dropping Apogee, but this was different. I was going to basically rappel down without any carabineers or even a harness. The only way to do this safely was to descent with a fast-roping technique, like the army uses to deploy from a hovering helicopter. It was like sliding down a fireman’s pole, only this one was over two-hundred feet long and swaying wildly with the near-hurricane force winds.

  I had seen fast roping done in the movies, and in Army/Marine training videos on YouTube. But the closest I had gotten to actually doing it in practice was crossing from shard to shard a few days back. In theory, it helped to have strong boots and pants, and good gloves. My pants were shreds, and I had no gloves. The only thing I had going in my favor were my combat boots, which despite having some bite marks around one of the ankles, and being covered in blood and grime, were still in solid shape.

  In any case, there was no other choice, nothing to do except grab on to the rope and give it a try.

  I moved beyond the final footholds and waited until I was floating on the rope, to make sure she had me secured. Once I saw that she had me, I started sliding down, at first slowly, then faster and faster. I shot through the space between us in no time and as I reached her, I held on tighter and finally released my feet to land on the bridge below. In typical fashion, when I landed, I lost my footing and fell on my ass.

  “You’re such a klutz,” she said, helping me up. “Now take this thing off me.”

  I took my time, unthreading the ropes off her body, which had tightened quite a bit during her drop.

  She shook her head, knowing that I was enjoying putting my hands on her.

  “Almost done,” I said, flashing a wide smile as I felt her impatience build.

  “Watch what you touch,” she snapped. “I’ll knock you over the side.”

  “Oh, I’m watching.”

  “By the way, did you notice how flimsy this bridge is? Think it would have held your weight after a two-hundred foot drop?”

  I placed my hand flat on her buttocks, and pulled the last of the rope harness through her crotch dramatically.

  “I’m glad I thought of that,” I said, but she stared at me, crossing her arms, in her usual stance of displeasure. “What?”

  “Just...”

  “What?”

  “Forget it,” she said, shaking her head and moving past me towards the domed manta pen. The dome was crystalline, so we could see through. Inside were a few creatures that looked and moved like ambulating flowers. They saw us approach and hurled themselves over the side. Whether they were guardians leaving the mantas undefended or maybe even the food itself (though why would it be alive and willing), we couldn’t tell.

  “Hey, I’m sorry,” I said, following her.

  “It’s fine.”

  “I mean, we had this whole sexual repartee thing going on, and I let it get out of hand, okay? I didn’t mean to be that guy, you know? I’m really sorry.”

  She shook her head, a smile flashing across her face.

  “That’s called sexual harassment back home,” she said, now totally messing around with me, my half-hazard apology having served enough.

  “Yeah, but who’re you going to report me to out here, anyway?”

  Apogee giggled, “I might bring it up to Dr. Retcon, if we live long enough to get out of here.”

  “Put yourself in my shoes, I said as we entered the domed pen, stopping at the archway that led inside, and watched the mantas circling above. They flew in a rhythmic swaying dance, coming inches from the dome that kept them inside and circling around each in a unique pattern. Glancing around there didn’t seem to be anything I could use to lure the mantas down.

  “See any hay?” She wondered aloud.

  The mantas were high above us, over fifty feet at the high point of the crystal dome. I tried recalling any sounds the manta riders had made while flying, but I couldn’t remember anything. Along the walls were several harnesses strung up, so I walked over and got one, hoping that the mantas were trained enough to know it was time to be saddled. But none flew down, instead continuing their ballet.

  Nothing around the area looked like food. The only thing I could see were some dark pellet piles that looked more like guinea pig droppings.

  There was one thing I could try, but I doubted it would work.

  “Gor Varshantas,” I shouted and nothing happened.

  “Gor Dethregas!”

  Again nothing.

  “Maybe if you throw me up I can grab one,” she offered, trying to help.

  “Gor Narhalkas!”

  One of the mantas peeled off and came down to me, circling me a few times before settling on the ground almost in front of me.

  “Not bad,” she admitted as I took the harness and saddled the creature. I tied the harness tight, and mounted the saddle, then reached out to Apogee with my hand to help her on.

  “Ready?” I said as she sat behind me and held me tight.

  “For what?”

  “The fun part,” I said, and kicked the manta’s flanks, racing off.

  * * *

  Now I know there’s a lot I could say about that ride. I mean I was riding a floating manta ray through some strange section of space and beneath us were the ruins of the Lightbringers home world, mid-tectonic collapse, with flowing rivers of magma interlaced on the fractured surface.

  Behind, we were leaving the beautiful citadel of the Lightbringers with all its strange wonder and mystery. In our brief time here, we had seen creatures of all sorts, and enough new species to rewrite every biology book, including carbon and silicon-based life forms. And that was with only a few days to take in the sights while fighting for our lives.

  Flying through the Shard World also provided with all sorts of bizarre sights, with more of the larger manta rays (though thankfully, these ignored us); floating sail ships ambling in the distance, bioluminescent gas bags/jelly fish-things carried with the wind eddies, and a serpentine creature that must have been ten miles long.

  But all of the wondrous sights paled in comparison to the feeling of Madelyne pressed against me, he strong arms wrapped around my waist, the caress of her head settled on my shoulder. The warmth and touch of her body against my back were reward enough for a hard day’s work. Apogee’s light brown hair fluttered in the wind, tickling the back of my neck and shoulders, caressing my face. I was worried that she might fall asleep and slink off the back of the saddle, but her grasp around my waist was ever tight.

  But my thoughts gravitated back to the citadel, and I stole a glance back every chance I could. I wasn’t sure how or why, but I was certain we were being followed. Yet every look back proved me wrong. I knew exactly what would happen if we had to face that Lightbringer all by ourselves mid-flight.

  I recalled the feeling of helplessness when she had bathed me with her power, so supreme it was that each breath, each beat of my heart was at her whim. With her questioning, my mind became an open book to the Lightbringer, every secret, even those lost to me, was available to the powerful creature. When she communicated with me, I felt like someone was arranging my own thoughts for me, so that I could more easily understand.

  Which led to several questions that I was afraid would have to remain unanswered. Who were they? Were they creators or destroye
rs?

  There was one question that we had answered, though; what did they want with us?

  And the answer was obvious. We were next on their list, another addition to their collection. For what other nefarious purpose they would have for ripping a piece of our world and transporting it here, I could not guess. Their world was dying, or dead, so perhaps in the process they would also do something to the remnants of Earth which would help their world survive.

  One thing was for sure; they weren’t talking. Were like microscopic bacteria to them, like hard to see, insignificant pests. They took by force, and didn’t care of the destructive consequences. A caste system had formed in their menagerie, amongst the survivors of the planets they harvested, with the Mist Army, and their leaders high on the food chain. Those that couldn’t, or wouldn’t fight, were relegated to being prey, or slaves.

  It reminded me of Earth.

  Another thing gnawed at me as I flew away from the citadel. Did the machine work? Would we find Cool Hand, Haha and Zundergrub sitting there waiting by the useless machine, or perhaps their bodies strung up by the remnants of the Mist Army. I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but certainly enough for the survivors to rally and find their way after my companions.

  Part of me didn’t care if they had escaped or not, or the mission, or Retcon’s plans or a damned thing. I wanted to get back to Earth, sure, to get as far from these evil Lightbringer things as possible, to get Apogee home safe.

  But I had no incentive to return. As soon as I returned to Earth, I was one of the most wanted men on the planet. A murderer and thief.

  A villain.

  If Braxton got his hands on me, I wouldn’t see the outside of a power suppression cell for the rest of my life, a life which would much likely not be very long.

  Ahead, I saw the large shard where the village stood, a black char on the ground still smoking from dozens of pyres. Beyond was the small floating shard where we had arrived. Where, in theory, lay the wormhole. As we approached, I lifted my shoulder, to signal that we had arrived. Madelyne lifted her sleepy head and looked over my shoulder.

  “We there yet?” she said playfully, holding me tight, and resting her head on my back again.