Abos threw his arms around Daniel and, after a stunned half-second, Daniel hugged him back.
"You said it perfectly, Daniel."
They stayed that way for a few minutes. Then Daniel looked at Abos.
"We okay now?" he said.
"We are."
"Coming home?"
"Yes. Please. Home. But I have little strength left."
"Don't worry," said Daniel, picking up his motorbike helmet, "I'll give you a backie."
Abos hesitated as they reached the door leading off the roof. He was shaking his head.
"What is it?" said Daniel.
"Cars? Gary Numan? I don't even like that song."
"I know. But I love it."
Their voices trailed away into the night.
"And what is a backie? Is it like a biccy? I am hungry."
"No, you get on the back of the bike. For a lift."
"Oh. So you are having a frontie?"
"No, it doesn't... never mind."
45
Abos had tried alcohol on one occasion while being interviewed by a journalist from the NME. After two pints of beer he'd fallen asleep. That was nearly four decades ago, and he'd avoided it since.
Until the day he and Daniel returned to the Cornwall farmhouse.
That day was, possibly, the strangest of Saffi's, Sara's, and TripleDee's lives so far. Sara and Triple met their parent for the first time, knowing he had been a woman for most of his life and had only recently become male again. His new body was identical to the one that had made him world famous, and it took everyone a while to stop staring. The conversation was awkward at first, but they relaxed as the day wore on.
Sara and Abos discussed onemind for a long time. Sara's experience of what she, Daniel, and TripleDee had called webmind was similar, but clear differences emerged. Her control of the halfhero group mind had taken an effort of will, and a constant willingness by all participants to remain passive and allow her to use their pooled power. With Abos, Shuck, and Susan, the link had been automatic, and was there, albeit in a low-powered form, even when they were not consciously using it. When they linked fully, no effort was required by anyone. It was as natural a process as breathing. The dominant mind took ultimate control, but the other minds could still keep a certain amount of autonomy. Abos, as the dominant mind, could control the amount of autonomy available to the others while they were onemind.
Sara wondered aloud why she had been dominant when the halfheroes had linked, but the others didn't let her speculate for long.
"You're the cleverest. By a long way," said Daniel.
Saffi shrugged. "He's right. You're smart, Sara. Beyond smart, actually."
"Not only are you a smart-arse, you're bloody gorgeous, like. On behalf of all men, I'm insulted by your gayness."
Sara patted TripleDee's leg.
"I want you to know, Trip—and I mean this from the heart—"
"Yes?"
"You're a sexist nob. It's not nineteen-seventy-five. You know that, don't you?"
"Right. Thanks for that, pet. I was only kidding about you being gorgeous. Your... neck is too long. Yeah, now I think about it, you're like a sort of sexy giraffe. Ugly giraffe. I meant to say ugly."
Saffi and Daniel didn't join the discussions as much as the others. They were both increasingly aware that they were still alive and still together. This knowledge led to them heading upstairs after lunch and not re-emerging until the sun was disappearing behind the swell of the fields opposite.
TripleDee eyed them as they walked into the kitchen.
"You finally finished that DIY job, then?"
Daniel and Saffi looked at him blankly.
"Well, you sounded like you were having trouble for a while. Took you ages to bang the nails in. Ten out of ten for effort though."
Daniel blushed like a teenager, but Saffi was less easily riled.
"Oh, Triple," she said, "we're sorry. That was a little insensitive of us. I'm sure you'll get some. One day. Eventually. Maybe."
Triple laughed sardonically. He'd decided he was never going back to Newcastle. Better that everyone thought he was dead. Including Tammy, his on-off girlfriend for five years. She could do better than the man he'd been, and he didn't think she'd ever believe he could change. Not that he could blame her. Last time he'd promised to clean up his act, she'd found him in bed with a crack pipe and two skanky prossies. Nah, she could keep the cash in his safe and start over.
"Some what?" asked Abos. Daniel was never sure if Abos was as guileless as everyone assumed.
"Never mind," said Sara, taking a two-litre bottle of vodka out of the freezer. "Abos, we have a little tradition on our planet."
"I'm not an alien," said Abos.
"Whatever. You've been through the shittiest, shite time imaginable. We all have. But we're alive, we're together, and we have vodka. Let's get wankered. Daniel, you with us? Daniel?"
Daniel shut the laptop screen. It was the first time since they'd got back that he'd opened it.
"What?"
"Us. Booze. Get shitfaced. Now."
"Oh. Oh, God, yes."
The next day was lost to epic hangovers.
Saffi, who didn't drink, followed the news online. America's reaction to losing The Deterrent was, at first, denial. He wasn't missing, he was on a secret mission. Constant repetition by every media outlet of the footage before the superhero had vanished eroded any confidence in that version of events. The look on the face of The Deterrent as he stared at the billboards, the way he came to a sudden stop when he heard the synth riff from Cars blaring out from the PA. The sudden fall to the street. No. No one was buying the 'secret mission' garbage.
Another piece of footage shown almost as regularly showed the other titans at the exact moment The Deterrent left New York. They all stopped as one, their heads turned towards the direction he'd taken. They seemed unsure of what to do until—again as one—they headed across the Hudson to tackle the warehouse fire.
The next official statement was closer to the truth and absolved the United States of any responsibility for what might happen next. A sweating press secretary read it aloud and refused to take questions.
"This individual has already shown his mental instability when he abandoned the United Kingdom and disappeared. Professor Roger Sullivan has given this administration a detailed report regarding the possible psychological problems of The Deterrent. We are doing everything we can to find him and get him the help he requires. If a member of the public has any information as to his whereabouts, they should not approach him, but call the number on the screen. We have posted a five-million-dollar reward for any information that leads to his, er, discovery. The other titans are completely unaffected by the weakness of The Deterrent."
By the evening, and after a pint of coffee, Sara was able to stand unaided, and her breath was no longer capable of killing houseplants at ten paces. Saffi showed her the footage and filled her in on the extent of the manhunt.
"It's just a matter of time. They'll find him. And he's still connected to them somehow. Right, Abos?"
"Yes. The link is there. It is weak, but I cannot break it. They are still in America now, but they will hunt me. And they will try to find any others of my kind. America, Britain, any country who thinks they can control us. They will not stop until my entire species is enslaved.
"You need to change appearance again."
Abos agreed. He had no desire to look like Roger Sullivan any longer than was necessary. As they had no ready access to blood, they drew straws. Saffi got the short straw. Although she was willing, Daniel was unsure how she, or he, would cope with the constant presence of a younger, taller, physically perfect version of her.
"What choice do we have?" said Saffi.
The reboot, as TripleDee insisted on calling it, was scheduled for that night. Saffi's blood was in the fridge, a bath in the outhouse had been cleaned, the floor swept, and a delivery of fresh fruit, vegetables, nuts, and pulses was emptied in
to the tub.
At seven that evening, they gathered in the outbuilding. Daniel looked around.
"Where's Sara?"
TripleDee answered. "Haven't seen her for a couple of hours, but she knows we're starting at seven."
Daniel turned to Abos.
"How do you make it happen? I mean, I know it starts when your body dies - like at White Sands, or at Station, but you never told me how you did it when you stopped being The Deterrent first time around."
"I stop breathing."
"You do what?" TripleDee was looking at Abos in disbelief.
"I stop breathing. The body needs oxygen to survive. It shuts down. It dies. I return to my original form."
"You just... like... stop breathing?"
"Yes. I am ready now."
Daniel and TripleDee emptied bag after bag of food into the bath. Saffi folded the clothes Abos removed and put them on the table. When the bath was half full, the naked superbeing climbed into the bath and stopped breathing.
No one spoke. For a while, they all held their own breath.
After a while, they couldn't take it anymore and took a few heaving gasps. Abos showed no signs of discomfort, but his skin had a sheen of sweat, and his lips and the tips of his fingers were turning blue.
The door of the outbuilding flew open with a crash.
"Stop! Stop it now. Don't do it, Abos."
They all turned to look at Sara. Abos took a long breath.
"What is it, Sara?"
"Come back to the house."
Sara paced the kitchen floor while TripleDee made tea. Abos was the calmest among them as they sat around the table, despite having been close to death in the lab. He wore one of Daniel's dressing gowns and ate toast.
Sara was asking him questions.
"Abos, you formed onemind with the titans, right?"
"Of a sort, yes. It was weak and confused, but it was there. It still is."
"And you are the dominant mind?"
"Yes. But I cannot influence them. The drugs prevent it."
"I know. Okay, fine. The way I see it, we have a choice. We can run, like we were planning. Hide, and when they come for us, find somewhere new. Keep moving. Or..."
"Or?" Saffi leaned forward.
"Or we fight back. We hit them first. They won't be expecting it."
"That's right, they won't," said TripleDee. "Because only a fucking idiot would do it. You are talking about ten supershits, sorry Abos, and the entire military might of the United States of America, right?"
"Right. But I have a plan."
She told them, then sat back and let them think about it. There were questions, but she had already asked them of herself and found answers she could live with.
After three hours, and four cups of tea, Daniel held up his hands for quiet.
"We could talk about this for weeks, but I don't think we'd get any further. If anyone could come up with a plan that might work, might save a whole species, it would be Sara. Now, I think her plan is incredibly risky and unlikely to succeed."
He waited. They all looked at him.
"But I also think there's a chance it could work. And it's the only chance we'll have. Before they get their shit together, I mean. We'll only get one shot."
He looked at Saffi. She was smiling at him.
"So I'm in."
He sat down.
"Me too," said Saffi.
"Thank you," said Abos. "Thank you."
They all looked at TripleDee. His expression was grim.
"We're all gonna die if we do this, you know that, right?"
No one answered. He sighed.
"So, yeah. Fuck it. Let's do it."
That night, Daniel put the laptop in the bottom drawer of his wardrobe, while Saffi was in the bathroom. In a few weeks time, if Sara's plan turned out to be not quite insane enough to get them all killed, he and Saffi could talk about the future.
He could bring up the contents of Palindrome's email then. Not before.
Palindrome had proved to be worth every penny, but Daniel half-wished he had never paid her to unravel Hopkin's last secret.
He should have left it alone.
Daniel looked at the other side of his bed, the side Saffi slept on. He could see the indentation on the pillow where her head had been resting, one long, black hair catching the light from the bathroom. He had never been in love, had never known he needed to be in love. Now that he was, he understood what all the love songs were banging on about. Not that he was about to change his musical allegiances. Cars was still the best pop song ever, obviously. But he was beginning to understand why so many people liked The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, which he'd previously considered to be just a little bit shit.
Saffi came out of the bathroom and, once again, took his breath away.
He took her in his arms and almost forgot the last three lines of Palindrome's email.
Almost.
Hopkins was paying the director of a fertility clinic to use the same, single, donor for physically fit couples looking for IVF treatment. It was your sperm, Daniel. You are the father of one hundred and eight children.
THE END
Author’s Note
It's two years and two days since I uploaded the manuscript of The World Walker to Kindle Direct Publishing. It would be fair to say I was in one of my transitional periods back then. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with my life. I've never been sure. I don't think I even understand the concept.
Here are some ways I've earned money: clothes shop assistant (went for lunch on day one, didn't go back), piano/keyboard player and singer (most of my life), trainee journalist, scheduling clerk, transport clerk, puppet wrangler, stockbroker and financial adviser, vending machine business owner, piano teacher, corporate communication writer, composer, arranger, musical director, stand-up comedian, choir leader... author. I bet I've missed some out, too.
I've been accused of lacking stickability. Fair comment. But the interesting thing about that long list of failures, almost-dids, and wish-I-hadn'ts is the way they've all proved to be worth it. I've made friends, met people I would never otherwise have met, come across different points of view which have challenged me, travelled extensively, learned the ancient art of bouncing back. Nothing was wasted. I know a little about a lot, and that has helped my writing. Now, I won't do that thing of looking back at my life and saying IT ALL MAKES SENSE, IT WAS MEANT TO HAPPEN, because that would take all the fun out of it. But, I'll admit this much: if you want to write novels for a living, it doesn't hurt to have some life experience.
Now I sit in front of this screen six mornings a week and make stuff up, out of my head. This, let me tell you, is the perfect job for someone with no stickability. If I get bored at work, I know I've gone off track with the story. Time to go for a walk and think it out. The book you've just read (thank you for doing that) is a case in point. There was a moment halfway through when I got bogged down. For a few days, I wandered around looking as if I couldn't remember where I'd left the car keys. Or the car. Then, in the shower (it's almost always in the shower. I should put a desk in there), I saw where I was going wrong, and where the story was heading. I could see a New York Street, with enormous hoardings plastered with photographs that would only make sense to Abos. I could hear the Gary Numan song. I was back on track, and it was the best job in the world again.
A few notes on the Halfheroes series. This book became much easier to write once I knew it was part two of a trilogy. I know that sounds strange, not knowing how many books it takes to write a story, but that's the way I work. So far. From the moment I came up with Abos, I knew his back-story, the story of her species. I didn't want to shoehorn it into Book One, as I liked the mystery around The Deterrent. This time around, with the appearance of more Aboses, (Abae?) and the existence of a linked consciousness, we find out a little more. But the truth about the titans (they do have a proper name, it's in the next book) is the subject of the final novel. We'll find out about their pa
st, and how that will affect the future for everyone.
With Daniel, Saffi, Sara, TripleDee, and Abos, we have a team at the end of Halfheroes - pushed as far as they can be pushed. Ready to fight back.
I only realised after I'd finished how neatly the beginning fits with the end. A vasectomy near the beginning, then end with a hundred and eight children. The subconscious is a wondrous beastie, isn't it?
I get a fair few emails asking about writing. How I got started, what my process is, etc. There are lots of great books on the subject, but if you're interested in my thoughts, I've blogged about it on my website: www.ianwsainsbury.com. If you want exclusive free bits of writing and notification of new books etc, my mailing list is :
http://eepurl.com/bQ_zJ9
I'm also on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/IanWSainsbury
I have a title, a beginning, ending and some major developments for the final book... but I won't spoil anything for you. I'm excited about getting started.
Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review on Amazon - it makes a huge difference to independent writers. I read them all. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. Link here: Halfheroes
And don't forget, if you don't know what to do with your life, you're in good company.
Ian Sainsbury
Norwich, 24th April 2018
Also by Ian W. Sainsbury
Children Of The Deterrent (Halfhero 1)
The World Walker (The World Walker Series 1)
The Unmaking Engine (The World Walker Series 2)
The Seventeenth Year (The World Walker Series 3)
The Unnamed Way (The World Walker Series 4)
Halfheroes Page 28
