by Alex Fall
I commandeered the vessel and began lifting off. A couple people shouted that they found us, and Keegan reached over and flicked two switches. Shields up. He pointed at a switch on my piloting controls and then at the ceiling bay doors. I already knew what they were and what to do from here. I pulled the vessel around and shot a couple green energy blasts until the bay door was blown open, then turned and shot a couple more haphazardly towards our pursuers. A bolt of lightning struck the outside of the ship, causing power flickers, and ice began to slow one of the thrusters down. It's too late, little people. I reared back with the controls and shot into the sky, then set the thrusters on high power, shooting us off on our escape.
I followed our outlined flight plan and threw in a few smart choices, and soon the few ships I could see that were trying to follow us were lost from sight. Once things calmed down and I finally started to ease up, I turned to Keegan to examine him again. He was holding out a lemon. An actual lemon. My mouth watered slightly. Where did he get this? Is it real? Of course its real! I can smell the oil! I checked his face to see if he was serious. His smirk is the same in the dreams. I noticed he bobs his head to imaginary music like the dreams too. But...he looks so different in real life. He looks...a lot less built. And grungier maybe. He looks so laid back, like nothing could ever bother him. He looks like he has never been in a fight in his life, except for the healing bruises on his face. Also, he was examining me, just as I was examining him. I accepted the lemon from him slowly, but once in my hands, I wasted no time peeling and eating it. A moan of taste induced pleasure escaped me. It's just as perfect as the lemons in the dreams. I savored the fruit greatly.
"Wow...tes yeux..." He whispered.
"What?"
"Tes yeux," he repeated, pointing to his eyes then to me.
"OK, enough with the babbling."
Keegan chuckled a tad with a guilty smile. "J'ai oublié... Je ne parle pas Anglo."
"I don't understand what you're saying," I said with irritation.
"Je le sais. C'est parce que je ne parle pas Anglo."
"Keegan! Stop playing."
He cleared his throat. "No. Speak. Anglo," he said in slow, broken words.
I felt a wave of new despair come over me, mixed with irritation. He gave me that lemon as a dampener to break the news to me, didn't he?
"You...what?" I asked with a hint of fury.
"Je suis désolé," he said cheerily.
I turned and looked out the front of the cockpit, as if watching where I was going. I let a breath of hot, angry air flow from my nose, and my grip tightened on the controls.
"You mean...this whole time you've been talking to me, telling me to come find you, speaking to me in my dreams every night... And somehow... You forgot to tell me that you don't speak Anglo?" I asked in a very bitter tone.
He leaned back with a content smirk then put his fingers to his mouth. "Oups!"
I turned on autopilot, and turned to face him. "I think I'm going to kill you."
* * *
Keegan Laverdiere.
I stared at him in highly irritated silence from under the branches of a tree. We had flown so far away from town that we left it behind. Now we were out in the badlands outside of Lenburg. The only signs of humanity were scarce roads, scattered power line towers, and the occasional fossil fuel pumps. The ship was powered down and cooling off, and I sat against a tree, lightly chewing on a piece of bread, watching Keegan. He knew he was in trouble by now. He sat by the ship with his own meal and a fire that he made, watching the skies and occasionally looking over at me, likely to see if I still wore anger on my face.
"Erin..." He said as if wanting to explain himself.
"Don't talk to me." I needed some space for a bit. It was a form of punishment for him, by my design. He frowned and went back to looking at the sky, occasionally writing something down on a notebook he brought with him. Though he couldn't speak Anglo, he could definitely understand me. It made me angry.
What time is it? Its got to be nearing dawn soon. I need to sleep some more, but I don't trust him. He didn't tell me he speaks only Parisian. What else did he withhold? For all I know, he's only pretending not to speak Anglo. I'd beat him if he was.
A strange creature hooted in a tree a ways off. I sat up and checked to see what it was, if it was a threat, but I couldn't see anything.
"Hibou," Keegan said, pointing to the trees in the direction of the noise.
"No, you're not allowed to speak to me right now."
I got up and entered the ship. I would sleep in the loading room tonight. I don't care where Keegan sleeps, as long as it's not also in the ship. I pulled the coat from my cello case and began to loosely roll it for a pillow when an actual pillow hit the back of my head. I swirled around to attack whatever was behind me. Keegan stood at the bottom of the ramp looking back at me, then tossed a wadded up, thin blanket at my feet. He watched me solemnly, before walking back to his campfire. I cussed him quietly behind his back.
"Ne jurer pas..." He said sternly right as the word escaped my mouth. I didn't need to speak Parisian to understand that one. He's telling me not to cuss.
"Shut up."
I reluctantly nestled down into the pillow and blanket. I was upset that he thought about me enough to bring these because it felt as if he were trying to make up for his fault, yet I was very glad to have them. It was cold outside. A sense of danger still loomed over me, and occasionally imaginary noise would cause an ache in my burns as if it were reacting to what I was hearing. Despair and nightmares waited at the edge of my conscience, waiting to tear into me as soon as I started drifting to sleep. I felt a need for sleep meds. I popped a couple of pills and downed them with water, but after I put the pills back, I noticed Keegan was quieter than he should be. Was he listening and judging me again? He's so irritating. I tried to ignore him as I fell asleep, but I ended up drifting under to his humming and noise making. They had a unusual lullaby effect on me, and the soft firelight glow aided it.
My eyes cracked open, but this time in my dreams. I was back in the humongous, puffy, comfortable bed in Ilavoan. Drowsiness tried to cling to me here. The smell of clean linen and flowers drifted through the room. Outside somewhere, I heard water softly flowing. Unlike last time I was here, there were three things I checked immediately. First, was anyone in bed next to me? No, not this time. Good, no surprises. Second, what was I wearing? I found myself in a light blue camisole and loose, soft short shorts. It was a little too revealing for my tastes, but I've seen plenty of girls wear far less in the Decapolis as their casual clothes. It was a wonder what they wore when they were lounging or sleeping. Third, is this thing on my finger a ring? Yes. It’s that wedding band with the star sapphire. I pulled it off and tossed it onto the nightstand. I buried myself in the blankets and pillows, as it was still early even in the dream. I had a feeling it might happen, but I begged the dream not to have Keegan come in and interrupt everything. Sure enough, I heard soft footsteps on the carpet, but he never said anything or sat down on the bed. He rustled around for a moment, walked out on the pavilion, came back in and was quiet for a moment, but I could tell he was standing over me. I tried to ignore him and hide in the mess of blankets and pillows. Maybe this is why Sharon always kept so much bedding...
I heard him pick up the ring and fiddle with it, still standing over me. Go away. Keegan cleared his throat to grab my attention. Ugh, he's so annoying! I tossed the covers off and bolted up. Oddly, he was still Fake Arty here.
"What's with you and my clothes and this ring? No, better question! What the *cuss* were you thinking, not telling me about speaking Parisian? What's wrong with you?!"
He looked up and his smirk faded. "Hey...don't cuss."
I stared at him in amazement but went ahead and lowered my voice for the next statement. "Sorry, but I feel it's a bit appropriate this time. Seriously, why didn't you tell me?"
“Cursing is never appropriate.”
“Keegan!”
"What were you thinking?"
"I guess wanted to surprise you. I don't know..."
"Surprise me?!" I said. "And you don't know? That's not like you to do something and not know why."
"...really?"
I rubbed my face. "Yes, really. I'm still mad at you by the way."
He looked outside, but more so just to stare into space. "I know. I'm sorry..."
I dropped my hands and laid back again. "Why are you still Arty?"
"Cause you haven't naturally dreamt about the real me yet, so I'm stuck looking like this."
"That doesn't make any sense."
"That's because it's not your power."
I glared at him and brought the blankets a little higher onto me. This setting makes me uncomfortable.
"Why do you insist on putting me in weird clothes?" I asked.
"Cause I'm a weird guy."
"Understatement. How come you can speak Anglo in my dreams and not in real life?"
"We're communicating ideas here more than words. To me, I'm not speaking Anglo; you're speaking Parisian."
I closed my eyes and sighed. "You're making me upset."
Keegan laughed. "You're always upset at me for something."
"You irk me!" I clarified.
"Like this?" He said as he poked me through the blanket.
I shoved him off the bed. "Stop! I'm not a child or a toy. And you're still on punishment!"
He pouted on the floor while staring back at me. "I'm sorry. Would it make things better if I made you some lemonade?"
The thought of lemonade made my mouth water slightly, but I fought my physical cravings. "No. I told you, I'm not a child. You can't buy my trust with some *cuss* drink."
"Hey now..."
I inwardly smiled. I knew it upset him whenever I cussed, so I threw one in to get on his nerves the way he does for me.
"So on a more serious note," he said. "We need to get back to your old crew. I know where they are."
"Why would I want to go back there?"
"You want to get back with them, I can tell. And what about Sharon?"
"...what about her?" I asked, partly out of defiance for him knowing my inner feelings.
"You don't miss her?"
I rolled over to avoid eye contact. If I say no, then he'll point out how heartless and programmed I am. If I say yes, he'll point out that he's right and I should listen.
"Is that a no?" He asked.
"It must be nice for you to be able to guilt me into doing what you want."
"What? That's not what I'm doing."
"Yes it is." I rolled over in bed to face him again. "You just don't notice it cause you're not guilty."
"What makes you think I don't feel guilt?" He asked quite seriously.
I searched his face for sincerity but made no reply. I didn't expect that comment.
"I made the drug that created the difference between people with abilities and people without. I created Dwellers and Benevolents. How many people had their families torn apart by me? How many people died because of me?" He asked soberly. "I feel pretty guilty."
I watched his lively attitude diminish after he finished speaking. He looked to me as if I would understand, yet I just looked away. What did he see me as? A hope? An example to follow? A means of self redemption? Why did he single me out to talk to every night?
"Keegan..."
"Yeah?"
"Why did you spend your nights talking to me?"
"Well...two reasons I guess," he said pensively.
I glanced back over at him because I was nervous over his forthcoming answers.
"The first is because I saw you were different, and from a different place. I could tell that you were able to help fix things here."
At the pause, I prompted, "And the second?"
"Oh, that?" His smile returned. "Isn't it obvious?"
He offered no further answer. It kicked my mind into overdrive. I felt a tinge of embarrassment and a bit of confusion. Is...is he saying he likes me? No, that's not a feasible answer. There's something else, something that he's hiding. What is it? Why would anyone help me? Why isn't he telling me? Its driving me nuts!
"No it isn't. What is it?" I asked. My voice revealed my mind's desperation.
Keegan just chuckled and climbed back up to the foot of my bed. "So if we get back to camp, I can fix everything. But first we need to bring you home."
"Home? No, wait. What's the second reason?"
"Yes, home. The Decapolis."
"No! Stop trying to distract me! What's the second reason?" I demanded. I found myself gripping the blanket in anticipation.
"When you wake up, let's practice on the cello."
"Keegan!"
"It'll be nice to see the De'mus board again, huh?," he said with a smile.
"Tell me!" I shouted while grabbing hold of him.
"Another night. See you in a moment." He touched the end of my nose and made a goofy noise as if popping something.
My eyes opened. I was back on the ship, but Keegan was sitting right next to my head. I jerked away to a sitting position and stared at him. What was he just doing? Why is he in here? What time is it?
"Bonjour."
"Why do people insist on watching me while I sleep?" I asked in an upset. I winced from putting pressure on my hand and moved to nurture it.
"Tes cheveux sont très doux."
I stared and tensed up when he reached for my hand.
"What are you doing? Don't touch me!"
He grabbed my hand and put a lemon in it. I looked from the lemon to him. Where does he keep getting these from?
"Je vais faire le petit déjeuner!" He announced, then got up and left the ship.
"Did you even sleep last night? Hey! Come back here!"
He prepared a satisfying meal from what little food he brought. It consisted of oatmeal, nuts, tea, and some admittedly tasty bread that he brought. The meal was strange though because we sat in silence while eating, considering that he was involved. I could tell he wanted to talk, but I wouldn't understand what he was saying. The only thing he could do was try to sign out his words using gestures. The most I got out of that was, "Look at the sky."
The clouds were huge and puffy, pink from early light and the tips caught the golden light of the sun rising. Off in the distance, I saw reflection on the horizon. Either a lakeshore was out there, or that was an ocean. After sightseeing, eating, conditioning, and having him direct my cello practice for a short time (that didn't last too long on account of my hand), we boarded the ship and fired up the thrusters. We set out for the old camp, me piloting the ship and watching Keegan's direction giving. In under an hour, he told me to land the ship.
We gathered everything we could from the ship and then we began trekking down an old road. It led past big, empty lots surrounded in chain link fencing and occasionally metal sheds. Eventually, for no apparent reason, he told me to follow him off the road towards a creek that the streets drained off into. We followed the creek to a bridge that another road passed over, and from there we hiked back up to the road. Once we were back on the streets, I saw that the camp was only meters away, mostly set up under a series of overpasses. There were lookouts posted here and there on the upper bridges, but somehow they didn't notice us creeping up the creek. Keegan led the way confidently towards the camp, but due to the presence of lookouts, he had me follow with my head down. Somewhere in the camp, I heard Sharon's voice. It's odd that she's up this early. Somehow, miraculously, we walked all the way into camp and up to a certain tent. Keegan held a hand up for me to stop, then a finger to his ear to signal me to listen.
"It's not like that. She's troubled," Lori said.
"She's trouble for sure! And a lot of other things!" Nicolette fumed. "How did you even let yourselves be her crew?"
They were talking about me. Why me?
"You have to understand, she's not..."
Wyatt began to say, but paused to find the right word. "Ordinary. And I get it, you guys have powers and everyone here for some reason thinks they're something. But she didn't get her powers from this city. She's not like you guys."
"What are you talking about? Where else could it be from?" An unknown male voice asked.
"From an experiment. Remember we told you that we're not from here?" Reggie added.
"Right, your fake city," Nicolette sassed. "It's a nice story, but yeah right."
"Um...it's really not that hard to prove. Got the coordinates right here for the warp gate," Wyatt retorted.
"Good, then pack up. We're heading there now," I said as I entered the tent. Nicolette was bound in bandages all over her left side and wore a very nice, exoskeletal brace on her leg. She hopped off the bed she was resting on at the sight of me. Lori had her right arm in a cast, light gauze on the back of her neck, and wrappings around her upper right leg, along with a cluster of deep bruises along the right side of her head, but that didn't stop the look of amazement from crossing her face when she saw me. Wyatt looked pretty much unharmed, other than the look of concern when I entered and he noted Nicolette's aggression. Reggie also appeared the same, but he looked startled at my presence. The new face was a large, stern black man with loose casual clothes on, seemingly in good health, but at the sight of me, he unholstered a pistol and looked to Nicolette.
"Captain?" Reggie said in surprise.
"What are you doing back here?" Nicolette shouted almost instantly.
"Should I?" The new guy said. I glared at him in case he tried anything.
"Hey, whoa!" Wyatt shouted as his Templar units lit up. I couldn't see where the force fields were, but I'm pretty sure they would keep any bullets from flying. "Talk first, shoot later." Turning to me, he asked, "Speaking of, how did you get in here without getting shot?"
"Bonjour!" Keegan announced. Everyone fell silent at his presence. He walked to the middle of the tent and pointed. "Nicolette Belrose."
