Suture (The Bleeding Worlds)

by Stone, Justus R.

  He found the Ansuz folder and tapped it, entering his pass to gain access. The folder was blank. He stared at it a few moments before logging out and logging in again. Still, the folder remained empty.

  Brandt and Caelum entered the room, having a discussion that had Brandt very animated, which didn't seem too hard. At six-foot-eight and built like a pro linebacker, even tiny movements seemed big on Brandt. By contrast, Caelum was lean, agile, and lucky if he reached five-ten.

  Brandt crashed into a seat next to Jason, his mop of red hair flipping about like flames. He wore a wide, mischievous smile on his pale freckled face. Classification - Shit Disturber.

  Caelum slid into the chair on the other side. His short cropped black hair, smooth, dark complexion and easy, relaxed smile spoke of control and a cool-headed approach to life.

  They couldn't be more opposite. Yet they were the tightest of friends, and the closest thing to brothers Jason had.

  "I hate these things," Brandt announced so loudly anyone passing the room could've heard. Jason cringed. What if Woten or Njord were outside? "I mean, we know what happened. Who gives a crap what the eggheads found out afterwards?"

  "I'm interested," Caelum replied. "You can't tell me honestly after seeing the condition of that building and what happened to the only survivor, you're not the least bit curious?"

  Brandt leaned across Jason's desk, and in a surprisingly quiet tone, said, "Only thing freaked me out about that mission was how easy it was for our noob to chop that guy's head off."

  "Stifle it Brandt," Jason said.

  "Look boss, I get it. Your girl's kind of his friend and so you feel like you've gotta defend him. But this is us, the three amigos, musketeers, shit disturbers extraordinaire. You don't need to toe that line with us."

  Jason passed his fingers through his hair and fought the urge to pull a few strands out. "Gwynn went through a lot of crap. You know what, I'm tired of everyone giving him a hard time for it. Truth is, he saved our asses and I think everyone is just having a hard time with that. If he hadn't acted the way he did, Angie would've got her own damn head chopped off because she was too busy being mouthy to Njord. Where I sit, we should be kissing his ass."

  "Wow," Brandt said. "I would've brought a shovel if I knew there'd be this much bullshit piling up."

  Tough words, Jason thought, but I can tell by you're voice I'm right and you know it.

  Thankfully, the arrival of the rest of the team, including a still blurry-eyed Gwynn, ended any possibility of the conversation starting again.

  Wait, not everyone. Where's Angie?

  Woten and Njord entered and took stock of the people in the room.

  "She's not here yet," Njord said.

  "I'm sure Angie will be here soon," Gwynn said.

  If Woten's stare could kill—which it possibly could, Jason wasn't sure—Gwynn would've been vaporized. Jason made a mental note to tell Gwynn he should keep his mouth shut unless told to do otherwise.

  "Angie won't be joining us," Njord gently answered, trying to dispel the tension filling the room. "We are waiting for someone else."

  Someone else? Jason's heart raced. Had Fuyuko's behaviour this morning been all an act? Was she back on the roster?

  "It's all that old bastard's fault," Woten said. "Just continue. He can explain why his agent is going in with less information."

  Njord looked questioningly at Woten. In reply, Woten waved him on as though he were waving away a bad odour.

  "Well…" Njord moved to a podium to the right of the screen. An image of the building in the corn field flashed on the display. "As you know, we encountered something unexpected on our last mission. While we thought we were investigating a tear, it turned out to be something different. And much more troubling."

  Woten stepped forward to speak, which unsettled Jason. The only reason Woten would speak was because this was serious, and because he knew the words coming from him wouldn't be questioned.

  "What you experienced was a Bleed Through, or as the Research Department like to call it, a displacement. Essentially, this building was from another world, one most likely destroyed either by the Fallen or through some other cause. For reasons still unknown, it phased into existence in our reality. The outside of the building was our universe, while the inside was a different one. That is why the survivor became a Curse when brought outside the building."

  "Oh my God," Marie gasped. "We did that to him."

  Unlike Gwynn's outburst, this one was met with no anger. Probably because Woten and Njord understood Marie was only voicing what all of them were feeling in the twisting of their guts. Jason cast a glance at Gwynn. He'd killed that man, how was this affecting him? But Gwynn looked coldly ahead, as though this news in no way surprised, or bothered, him. Maybe Brandt had a point after all.

  "There was no way you could've known," Woten said. "Because you are Anunnakis, you were able to cross the boundaries without any ill effects. The other thing we did to protect you was to outfit your suits with devices Research calls Tethers."

  "That's what I activated on the computer before we left the chopper," Njord said.

  "The Tethers are like lifelines to this world. Without them, you might not have ended up back in this world when you stepped out of the apartment building. In a sense, think of it like a crossroads. It's entirely possible that building appeared in other worlds besides our own."

  No amount of discipline could keep the room from mixed murmurings.

  "What?"

  "How is that possible?"

  "We might've run into someone else?"

  "The reason you are here today," Njord resumed the meeting, quieting the voices, "is we've detected similar energy readings in Florida within the Big Cypress National Preserve. Local authorities and military personnel were scrambled to cordon off the area and a team from the Research Department was sent ahead. They brought back these."

  A new image appeared on the screen. A city. Not the size of a capital, but far larger than what Jason would consider a small town. There'd be schools, shopping malls, and thousands of people living there. Several more images passed by, closeups of various buildings, roads, and people. Too many people.

  "This town doesn't exist in this world," Woten said. "Thankfully, it appears to be a functioning, normal town. Unlike the building you first encountered, which looked like it had come from a world that was a war zone. We want more information on this phenomena and to see what level of threat it poses to us. Since only Anunnakis can do that, your team is being dispatched to the town."

  Brandt shot Jason a pointed glare that asked, Did you know about this? Jason ignored it.

  "You will be assigned various posts to observe daily life and take readings which you will pass back to us," Woten continued. "Each of you will be given a device to wear on your wrist. It's been built to look like a common watch, so it shouldn't stick out too badly. These are your Tethers. You must keep them on at all times."

  Jason raised his hand. When Njord acknowledged he could speak, he asked, "Sir, we were under the impression if the Veil weakened enough to allow something like this to happen, it would mean the destruction of at least one world. That's what we saw in Brantfield, wasn't it?" From the corner of his eye, Jason saw Gwynn shudder. How hard would this be for him if he did all that for nothing?

  Njord and Woten exchanged glances. Jason's pulse quickened. Why are they hesitating?

  "Our own Mr. Takeda brought a theory forward to us…some time ago," Woten said. "While world killers are a weakening of the Veil, which crushes two entire realities together, destroying one or both of them, this is more like the Veil making a willful choice to preserve something." When greeted with confused looks, Woten continued. "There is the theory of a paradox. An event, person, situation, causes a disruption in the natural flow of reality. The suggestion is the Veil will react to solve the paradox. For instance, we know multiple versions of our Earth exist. The belief is the various realities branched off because of a paradox. In the
case of a world killer, it is an injury to the Veil which eventually causes an all out rupture. In these situations, Mr. Takeda suggests this is the Veil's will. Since there is no injury, there is no rupture, and therefor no destruction of an entire world."

  Unasked questions crowded the room, filling it with a suffocating silence. The tension was shattered with a loud hammering on the door.

  "You only need one guess to know who that is," Woten said to Njord, who went to open the door. A man, who equaled Brandt in size and stature, strode into the room like royalty. He wore a crisp white suit, the shade of which matched his beard and hair that hung to his shoulders. He smiled broadly at the room.

  "Ladies and gentlemen," Woten said with considerable sarcasm, "may I introduce the head of Suture's Greek branch—"

  "Zeus," the man interrupted. "Pleased to meet you all. Well, Woten, this is certainly quite the fancy setup you have here. Took me over an hour just to find my way from the substation. May I introduce," he stepped aside, revealing a girl in black fatigues, "the pride of our branch who will accompany you on this mission, Alesandra."

  The sound of a tablet crashing to the ground drew everyone's attention to Gwynn. The boy sat rigid, his eyes bulging at the sight of the girl.

  "Adrastia?"

  §

  Was it all for nothing? Gwynn tried to wrap his mind around what Njord and Woten were trying to say. Had he not stopped the Veil's collapse? Had Sophia died for nothing? More words, deeper explanations, none comforting, but at the same time, they seemed to indicate his efforts hadn't failed completely. They had saved this world. But it meant the deaths of others continued. Where was Pridament in all this? Was he out there fighting the Fallen as he'd said, trying to draw their attention away from this Earth? If whole universes were dying at such a pace that the Veil itself was beginning to compensate, how much safety could he possibly buy them?

  The knock came at the door. A large man, even more physically imposing than Woten, strode into the room with a confidence equal parts awe inspiring and annoying. It was the girl who followed closely behind that drew Gwynn's attention.

  No, he thought, it can't possibly be her.

  When she turned to face the room, he had no doubt. His tablet slipped from his hands, crashing to the ground. He wasn't even aware of it. He could only focus on the girl whose name slipped from his lips. "Adrastia."

  For eight months, the phantom girl had been absent from his life. He'd yet to decide whether that made him happy or frightened. When he'd first seen her, he'd been sure she was a figment of his imagination. Even Pridament told him she was most likely an image his mind conjured to handle the overwhelming reality of his powers. Then Pridament saw her. How could that have been if she wasn't in some way separate from Gwynn?

  He became aware of the stares of his teammates and the awkward expression of the girl. They all seemed to be waiting on him. Even the large man—wait, had he said he was Zeus—gave Gwynn a bemused smile.

  "Sorry," Gwynn said. "She looks like someone I used to know."

  More like exactly like someone I knew.

  Only Pridament knew about Adrastia, and until Gwynn had determined if she was a symptom of madness or a flesh-and-blood being, he'd decided to keep it that way.

  Njord cleared his throat to further break the tension in the room. "So everyone, please take a moment to get to know Alesandra. As this is an important issue to Suture globally, we have agreed to her filling Angie's position for the duration of this mission."

  Eight silent protests filled the room.

  "We expect total cooperation and professionalism," Woten said, ending any potential rebellions. Turning to Zeus, Woten said, "Since you were late for the meeting, we've briefed our people on the pertinent details. I'm hoping you did the same for Alesandra while enroute."

  Zeus laughed and slapped a heavy hand on Woten's back, who winced trying to hide the murderous intent in his eyes.

  "Of course I took care of it. She knows what she needs to, and I'm sure your fine team will make her welcome."

  He gave the room a wink that could've been interpreted as playful, though Gwynn couldn't shake the feeling of something darker beneath its surface.

  "In that case," Njord said, "we will depart via the station in two hours time. Gather your gear and do whatever you feel you must before then. Dismissed."

  Everyone stood to leave. Gwynn knelt down to retrieve his tablet when a thick hand landed on his shoulder.

  "I don't believe we've ever had the pleasure of meeting." Zeus towered over him.

  "No, sir." Gwynn stood and shook the offered hand. "Gwynn Dormath."

  Zeus laughed. "I know who you are boy. While I admit I try to keep to my corner of the world, I'd be failing in my duties if I knew nothing of the boy who managed to close a world killer within two weeks of awakening as an Anunnaki."

  "Right."

  "I wondered if maybe we could have a chat, you and I," Zeus said.

  Gwynn looked around the room and found it empty. Really? Had they all just left and not a single one had hung back? He felt a bit of a sting that even Woten, his own grandfather, had left him alone.

  "I guess…"

  "Excellent." Zeus clapped his hands together. "Just one thing before we do. Hmmm, would you mind having a seat on the ground a moment, Mr. Dormath?"

  "What? Why should I?"

  "Mr. Dormath," Zeus said, his tone friendly, but containing a sharp edge, "when a god tells you to do something, it's usually in the best interest of your health to listen."

  Gwynn looked into Zeus' icy blue eyes—serious and sparking with lightning.

  Gwynn sat.

  "Very good," Zeus said. "Now, let me see…"

  He stuck his finger in his mouth and pulled it out again, holding it up as though judging the direction of the wind. After a minute of humming and hawing, bolts of electricity struck out in several directions from his upraised finger. Sparks, pops, and hissing sounds emitted from places in the walls where the bolts had struck.

  Zeus drew his finger close to his lips and blew on it like a smoking gun barrel. He reached that hand down to Gwynn as an offer to help him up. Gwynn just stared at that one finger. A single finger had probably just discharged enough electricity it would've fried Gwynn had he been standing in its path.

  "I promise," Zeus said, "I've lived long enough to control it. You're perfectly safe."

  Gwynn took the offered hand, afraid to insult Zeus, and rose to his feet. He had a hard time figuring out how much was him standing, and how much was Zeus effortlessly lifting him.

  "Sorry for the little light display. I much prefer to have my discussions in private." Zeus looked at the numerous places his bolts had struck. "Honestly, how mistrusting is Woten to place so many surveillance devices in one room?"

  Zeus motioned toward one of the chairs. Gwynn didn't hesitate to sit—words about doing what a god asks being good for one's health still rang in his ears. Zeus grabbed another chair and positioned it so he could look directly at Gwynn. He tried several times to sit comfortably in it. Finally, he stood, smashed his fist into the attached desk, pulverizing it, and turned the chair so he could rest his arms on its back while he spoke.

  "Much better. I have no idea how any of you can sit for more than five minutes in these blasted things." Zeus' eyes softened. His smile lacked the gregarious nature he'd projected since arriving. If anything, it appeared tainted with sadness. "Tell me something, Gwynn. Has anyone said thank you?"

  "What…?" Gwynn blinked a couple times and shook his head. "For what?"

  "For saving this world. For deciding to join Suture and continue the fight to keep this world safe. During the training, the missions, and the day-to-day of existing, has anyone stopped to say thank you?"

  "My grand… Woten, said he was proud of me."

  Zeus nodded, stroking a hand along his beard. "Having people be proud of you is important. It gives self-worth, validation, and maybe even something more to aspire to. It's not the same as pe
ople being thankful. You see, while pride is all and well, it's an easy thing to feel. Because pride in someone is a gift you give them. But being thankful means you must be humble enough to realize the gift the other person has given. It doesn't seem to me the people here are strong friends with you."

  Gwynn shifted in his chair. An aching in his chest begged for him to leap to his feet. "It's just because I'm the new guy. They've all grown up with each other. They're just getting to know me still."

  Zeus patted Gwynn's arm. "Either you're so kind you can't see what's really going on, or that's a beautiful lie you've told yourself." Zeus' eyebrow raised. "So which is it?"

  Gwynn looked away, unable to meet Zeus' probing stare.

  "As I thought," Zeus said. "Well, I am pleased to be the first to say, thank you. Despite all our years of preparation and experience, we missed the moment when we were needed most. It was a fortuitous intervention of fate which brought you to us Mr. Dormath. Thank you for not turning your back on the responsibility. A lesser man would have."

  Gwynn searched Zeus' eyes for a glimmer of insincerity. Was the old man making fun of him? He saw nothing except sincerity. Which gave him an odd, uneasy, feeling.

  "Is that what you wanted to say?" Gwynn asked.

  "Not entirely. I just thought it was important for you to know how much I appreciated your efforts before we continue. What I really wanted to speak to you about was your friend Sophia."

  Gwynn flinched at the mention of her name. It might've been the first time he'd heard the name spoken aloud since he attended her funeral.

  "I understand she meant a great deal to you. From the few details I've managed to put together, I believe you meant an equal amount to her. It's for that reason I hoped maybe you might be able to help me."