by Alex Fall
A knock on the metallic door frame of the cockpit tore my attention from my thoughts. The person did not wait for me to acknowledge before entering, meaning that whoever knocked wasn't on my crew.
"Bonjour," Keegan greeted.
"Morning," I mumbled in reply. He set the gift box from last night on a console behind him then sat on his knees next to me so that we were at eye level. He went in my room to get that box. He went in my room without my permission.
"Êtes-tu éveillé déjà? Comment ta tête va?"
"I don't speak Parisian..." I mumbled.
"Puis-je?..." He asked, holding out a hand. I figured he was trying to be nice, but I didn't know what he had in mind. Plus...it's a little annoying.
I broke gaze and watched what little surroundings I could see outside the windows pass by. Then I offered him my hand. "Don't do anything weird," I warned.
He ignored my hand and drew my head a little closer. I immediately felt uncomfortable.
"Stop! What are you..."
Keegan was examining my wound in the back of my head. Was it because it was his fault? Why is he so weird?
"Captain?" Reggie's drowsy voice called. "Why are we in the air? Where are we..."
He turned the corner and paused at seeing us. His facial expression changed to a mixture of confusion and amusement. He pointed in our general direction and asked, "Are you two?..."
"No," I firmly replied.
"Captain, is that you?" Lori asked from within the ship. She sounded tired.
"Yes," I replied to her. "Reggie, remove the smirk from your face."
"It's five in the morning or something. Where are you going?" She questioned.
"The Decapolis. And it’s eleven here, but if you’re tired, go back to sleep."
I heard her mumble to herself, "Don't need to tell me twice." Reggie let out a quiet laugh then left, as if he had stumbled upon some secret. He pointed at Keegan and said, "You're insane, you know that right?"
Keegan smirked in reply. "Peut-être."
"Reggie, I swear, if you spread any false rumors, it WILL come back to haunt you. Count on it," I warned with a heavy graveness.
Reggie's smile died down. "Yes, captain."
I returned to staring out the window, picking at the remains of an old burn on my neck. "Now go find something useful to do."
"I'm just going back to bed," Reggie admitted.
"Fine." I looked over at Keegan, who seemed to be entertaining himself by counting out something silently in his head. "What are you doing?"
Still lost in his imaginative gesturing, he stared in space for a couple seconds, but shifted gears when he performed some self taught magic trick and produced a lemon. He offered it to me with a bow.
"It came from your sleeve. I saw it," I commented, satisfied with myself. "Nice try though."
"Nooon..." He asserted, as if I must be mistaken.
While watching his reaction, I replied by simply peeling and beginning to eat the lemon. The taste was glorious, and the smell filled the cockpit. I can tell he's trying to be nice, likely to make up for yesterday.
"Thank you..."
He nodded. "Je t’en prie."
"What's with the box?" I asked.
Keegan seemed delighted that I took notice of it. He turned and grabbed the thing to hand it to me. "Ouvrir," he said with a ripping gesture.
I looked the box over and began picking at the folded sides. Where did he even find wrapping paper anywhere? I untied the ribbons and loosed the paper from the box. Inside the box were two digital speakers, like the ones in my dreams, and a metallic red music player.
"Why would you give me this? I don't have any music."
"La plupart des gens disent merci."
"Keegan...I can't understand you. You have got to learn Anglo."
"No... You. Speak. Parisian." He emphasized the point by touching my nose.
I sighed out of my nose. My mind raced to find a retort as I tampered with the gifts and sucked on the lemon. "You gave me your music player, didn't you?"
He pulled a new one out in response. My best guess was that he transferred all his music to the new one and gave me his. I don't know why he didn't just give me the new one.
"Petit déjeuner?"
I returned a blank a stare. He repeated the question by vividly acting out someone sitting down and eating a meal, and managed to include goofy sound effects of someone enjoying their food. He's asking about breakfast. I turned my face to hide a smile. He's trying to distract me. He knows that if I spend my time alone I'll just brood and come out in a bad mood. To my dismay, his antics were working. How much longer must I put up with him?
After the meal was done, Keegan woke Sharon so she could come eat. At first I was surprised that not only did he find his way around the kitchen, but that he made enough food for all three of us. The smells of sustenance also woke my crew. I was shocked to find out he made enough food for everyone. While I ate alone in the cockpit, I could hear Keegan and Sharon babbling in Parisian just outside my door. One of them brought a deck of cards, and soon were shuffling them out for a game. Quickly, I noticed the game was fast paced and involved slapping the table for whatever reason, adding an irritating element to the scene.
"Move somewhere quieter!" I commanded only after a minute or two of the game. Lori whispered "Told you," to one of my crew members in response to demand. Sharon's giggling immediately quit, and Keegan moved the two of them to the floor after laying out some pillows and blankets. Then he called to me. When I looked back, he was waving me to them, saying something in Parisian I could not understand.
I got up and stood over them at the doorway. "I can't understand-"
"He wants you to play with us," Sharon interpreted.
"No."
Sharon looked to the ground, then at Keegan. He shook his head and grabbed a pillow, tossed it near him and patted it, inviting me to sit next to them. Then he spoke quickly in Parisian to Sharon.
"He says he wants you to watch. It's called slapjack. All you have to do is take turns laying down cards, and when you see a jack, the first person to slap it gets all the cards. You win when you get the whole deck."
"Captain doesn't play games on this ship," Reggie explained.
I sighed. Keegan patted the pillow again and flashed an exaggeratedly big smile as if to say please. I sidled down the wall onto the pillow to comply with Keegan's foolish wishes. As I watched them play, I saw how slow their reflexes were. Inwardly I cringed each time they had to pause and register that a jack was laid down. They were smart enough to shuffle their hand each time they picked cards up, but they're so slow. This wouldn't even be a challenge. Or am I just that fast?
Jack.
I was instantly upon the card. I couldn't resist establishing superiority. I have the fastest reflexes on this ship. I outsmarted a Slick for goodness sake. This game is nothing in comparison.
The other two players paused when I interrupted their game. Sharon looked to Keegan. Keegan smiled slyly. Wait, this is what he planned all along, wasn't it? I closed my eyes in irritation that I played right into his little trap, and quietly gathered my cards as if they would keep my dignity intact. I didn't notice either, until later, that my crew became unnaturally quiet and observant of me once I joined the game.
Naturally, I won that round. Keegan switched games afterwards, likely because Sharon's joy was diminished from losing so drastically. I sat in on this one too. It was not a reflex based game, so the odds were more even for winning. This is how we passed the time until we arrived at the Decapolis, me sitting on a stupid pillow playing card games with a mind reader and a child. Occasionally my crew would join in as well. I recognized that this was all Keegan's doing, that he was just trying to distract me. But by now...I didn't mind anymore.
Part 25
After what seems like having been gone forever, The Decapolis came in view. In reality, I was arriving back by my so called "prescribed time" of two months. I don't know if I've ever bee
n back on time. And yet, it feels as if I've been gone longer than any of my other excursions. But...the Decapolis. Home, as Keegan would have me believe.
My usual landing bay was open and waiting for me, though I can imagine the techs in the area would be shocked to see me back so soon. How would they react? Are they scared of me? Will they be after they find out about Lenburg? Any normal person would. And what of the board? I gripped the controls in nervous anticipation of their fussing. They have a right this time though.
Keegan swatted me lightly on the shoulder. "Arrête ça."
I broke my thoughts to check my arm then Keegan's face. He looked down on me as I was trying to figure out why he hit me, but then he took it a step further by tapping the crown of my head with a finger using a fair amount of force, enough to make my irritation rise. I snatched his wrist into my hand and readied my grip to add pain.
"HEY! What's with you!?" I warned.
Keegan replied by opening and closing the fingers on his free hand, as if to say "Blah blah blah." He tried to tap my head with that hand too, but this time I intercepted. The motion hurt that hand, so I squeezed one eye shut as a form of wincing. Is he trying to tell me I'm bad mouthing myself in my head again?
"Alright Seeker. You don't have to read my mind ALL the time..."
He stood over me with both wrists gripped and held aside by me, yet a slow smirk formed on him. Suddenly he went limp and fell upon me in my pilot's chair, as if he melted. I was left trying to drag him up by his wrists. No, why am I holding him up? I let go and slid him off of me in a huff.
"Keegan! You promised me a day of space."
He sat up and pooched out his bottom lip.
"Please?" I threw in. Glancing out the door to make sure no one was around, I dropped my voice to continue. "Yes, I was a little negative. You're right, as always. I'm a little nervous and scared this time, no thanks to your influence." I even emphasized the word "your" by lightly flicking Keegan in the head.
He twisted his features into a playful face of disbelief and denial of responsibility.
"Yes, you. You're teaching me emotion, but you better know when to give me space when said feelings flare up, OK?"
"Un jour..." He replied, holding up a finger in front of his nose.
I wasn't sure what he said, but I nodded half out of agreement and half out of dismissal. He nodded as well, rose and bowed to me, then left. Why is he so weird?
My ship was secured into my personal bay and some techs were waiting to unload any cargo I may have acquired. I left Reggie in charge of restocking my ship and explaining why the things I was supposed to bring back were absent. It was getting into the afternoon here, so I'd have to hurry if I wanted to address the board. They don't work evenings from what I understand.
I trotted my way into the office building and ignored the surprised faces and greetings of passersby. The main floor lobby was thriving. There were far more people than in Lenburg, and the people here were just more professional somehow. It felt cleaner, and certainly more familiar.
"Hey, where's that Keegan guy?" Wyatt asked.
What? He's not right behind me? I turned around and searched the area, seeing no trace of him. I gave the command for Lori and Wyatt to round up the De'mus Board while I located our key man. I retraced my steps until I found myself back at the ship. No...tell me he didn't do it again.
I pushed a docking attendant aside and entered my ship, went straight to Vick's old room and found Keegan asleep on the bed with Sharon sitting on the bed next to him on the laptop.
I let out a huge groan of annoyance.
Sharon watched for a moment before volunteering some info. "He said if you came looking for him that he's sorry. He has to sleep during the day cause he used to be awake during nights back home."
"I know," I said, leaning against the wall and rubbing my temples. "I was just hoping otherwise...Are you staying here?"
"Yes ma'am."
"When he wakes up, have Reggie come get me."
"Yes ma'am."
"And stop saying ma'am."
"...OK."
Great. I still have to meet with the De'mus board. How is this going to work out without Keegan there? Better question, how was it going to work out WITH Keegan there? They don't speak Parisian. I don't know what he was planning to do either. It's fine. He wants the Board to help, I know that much. I can get them to do that.
I marched back to Wyatt and Lori, and gave orders for Lori to get a hold of some people about rooming for a couple days here in the Decapolis, and to find out what there was to do for people Sharon's age. Meanwhile, I waited in the lobby with Wyatt. I don't think I could order him away. The De'mus Board would want to talk to him, plus he could be useful to verify my debriefing. So here we sat, waiting for the trolls that thought they owned me to gather.
"Well this doesn't happen much. You and me. Hanging out," Wyatt commented into the air.
"We're not hanging out."
"Right. But you hung out with Keegan..."
I shot him a threatening look. He didn't catch it.
"Can you understand him? Like, do you know Parisian?" Wyatt asked.
"No."
"Can I ask, do you...like him?"
I sighed. "Is this Reggie's doing? Is this what you guys talk about in your spare time?"
"No. I just noticed you guys get along well or...better than most."
"He's annoying."
"That's a good sign. And I didn't hear you say no."
"No, I do not like him. Now, shut up."
"Geez, everyone's so mean to me," he said falling back into his chair. In my mind I reasoned that it was because he was loud and assumes ridiculous things, but made no outward signs otherwise. I didn't want to give him further reason for pursuing the subject.
After a couple of minutes, Mason entered the building, the Board member in charge of Information Services and Outland Data. Basically, he was a fancy info broker, most of his info coming from me. Still, he has a use somewhere in the Decapolis I'm told. He locked onto the blue of my eyes and approached slowly.
"Erin? What...what happened to you?"
I stood to address him and begin moving higher up into the building, but his greeting had me pause. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your scars...look crazy. What have you been doing? What happened?"
He noticed that fast? Am I truly that bad?
"Right?" Wyatt agreed. "And get this! She's-"
I cut his sentence off by pointing in his face and nearly yelling. "Shut. Up."
"You're what? What did I miss?" Mason asked in a fluster.
"Nothing."
"Oh no, your scars say otherwise."
I glared at him for trying to pry info from me, so Mason added, "No offense."
We stood awkwardly for a moment as I had I finished my stare down with Mason. He cleared his throat after a moment and attempted to keep a conversation going.
"So...new city. People with superpowers."
"How much do you know?" I questioned.
"That...there's a new city, with some people that have superpowers? And that you were presumed dead until I got a call a couple minutes ago saying you were standing in my government office."
"Presumed dead?" I scoffed. I looked to Wyatt who held his hands up as of to say he had nothing to do with it.
"Yes. You ARE a little...forgive me for the lack of vocabulary but, crazy. I wouldn't put it past you to get yourself killed."
I narrowed my eyes at him. I felt the familiar irritation of being home begin to resurface. These people think I'm that helpless? I was tortured for years in a hopeless, dismal prison, from which I triumphed despite all the odds saying otherwise, but they think I'm going to finally die when I leave home? A brief memory of sucking on my shotgun barrel volunteered itself, and my conscience screamed in agony that they were right to think that way, but I hid it all behind my emotionless face.
"I believe the word you're looking for is overconfident. And I also believe
I've earned the right be so," I grumbled.
"Oh, I'm gonna have to remember that one," Wyatt whispered to himself. When I turned to look at him, I also saw how many other people were watching and staring at me, peeking from their rooms, desks, and around corners. They're afraid, just like the Dwellers...
"Do you need medical attention?" Mason asked.
"What makes you think that?" I responded out of reflex.
"You uh...you've been picking at your burns since I laid eyes on you."
"Her hand is broke too," Wyatt threw in.
"I swear, if you don't learn to shut your *cu-" I began to say through clenched teeth.
"Hey, hey!" Mason interjected and grabbed me aside. Again, out of reflex, I snatched his hand up and elbowed him in the cheek. Mason stumbled back and moaned in pain, and I leaned over and nursed my broken hand after moving it. A few people scattered as well.
"OK... I think we're going to need some more board members here before we continue," Mason stated while holding his face.
"Good God! What happened to you?" Gus said suddenly upon entering the scene.
"You too?" I groaned.
"Erin..." He said as he rushed over to help me stand. "You're scars... I'm sorry, but you look terrible."
"Name me one day I've looked good," I announced. "Come on, one day."
Wyatt sighed and looked out the windows. Mason moved to the elevators and Gus closed his mouth at my antics.
"What's the matter, you can't think of one? Why is that, I wonder?" I leaned in to drive my sarcasm deeper. "Do you happen to know why you can't think of a day like that?"
"Alright Erin, that's enough," Gus said in dismissal.
"Do you honestly think anyone in this city thinks I have ever "looked good?""
"That's not what I meant, you know that."
"Keegan does." I blinked and looked over at Wyatt for the statement he just made. I felt my teeth clench. I was mad for that answer, mostly because he was right...
"Who?" Gus said after the hateful energy built up between mine and Wyatt's eyes.
"Oh! Oh, thank God! Erin, you're not dead!" Heather said, stumbling towards us with arms outstretched, she took hold of me but still paused like everyone else. "My...you...what ever could have happened to you?"
