by Lee Bond
“The M’Zahdi Hesh.” Chad accepted the bleak futility with a brusque nod.
The Universe was the way the Unreal Universe was. Without Garth, the fate of the Reality they called home was set. Had always been set, since the very beginning of Time itself, when the Engines of Creation had first started spitting out Universal starter kits.
“Wonder where the guy is, right now.” That’d been another thing keeping him preoccupied during the infinite-seeming hauling sessions; wondering what Garth ‘Nickels’ N’Chalez was up to at any given moment, the hair-raising and ridiculous adventures the First Kin’kithal was embroiling himself in, and if those mishaps had anything at all to do with the end of the Universe or if he was just amusing himself until the time came.
“I is tell you about ‘is time in Arcadia, yeah?” There were some things Chad wished he could do over again, and quite honestly, abandoning N’Chalez to deal with King Barnabas Blake the One and Only and the true King of Arcadia was one of those decisions that they felt reflected poorly on their rebirth as Platinum Brigadier.
They’d let the man down.
Sure, yeah, all right and okay, the burning urge to find Huey was a noble and responsible one –especially since the AI in a meatsuit was on tap to be God for R2.0- but still.
Leaving N’Chalez in the middle of that shitstorm without more immediate help felt like the act of a coward, and if they had a chance to do anything to repair that breach, Chad swore to all of himselves –even … especially … the ones as still did not care for Nickels very much- that they were going to do precisely that.
“Crazy stuff, son, crazy stuff.” Griffin checked his internal clock. Either Antal was so enthralled with their conversation and didn’t want it to end or he still hadn’t come up with an effective way of neutralizing Chad’s powers. “From what ya’ll told me, ‘e got up to some of the weirdest thangs ever.”
“Aye, aye, that is true, innit?” Chad made a decision.
It were time to tell Griffin the truth about wot Garth N’Chalez were going through; the cyborg assassin turned Platinum Brigadier had honestly been on the fence about telling the hotheaded Kin’kith anything at all about Garth because of his complicity in the Engineer’s difficulties here in the ‘future’, but they could see that the young lad were well full of remorse.
The roads to enlightenment and the paths to freedom were difficult to walk down, especially when you’re a person like Griffin Jones. Raised his entire life to be special, given the powers of a Godlike being, trained to hate, trained to kill … it were hard to undo thoughts you’d held deep in your heart like a festering but-loved cancer.
“I is got stuff to say.” Chad said suddenly. “Stuff as is make you upset. Worried. Summink. We is still not all the way sure about feelings, so I is not entirely cert which you is feel when I is done.”
Griffin looked sideways at Chad, took in the pale Brigadier’s pinched brow and troubled expression and his heart dipped. The news had something to do with Garth. Didn’t take no genius to see that. “What’s wrong with the man?”
When Chad didn’t say anything, Griffin leaped to his feet and brandished two searing hot points of fire, one in each fist. He’d done his daddy so very wrong, and if he needed to bring down a man who was master of matter, he’d fuckin’ give it his all.
“Put away your heat, lad, it hain’t like that. Well, we s’pose it might be.” Chad waited for the dazzling points to disappear before he resumed. “Sit back down. All hain’t lost, but it's … sidetracked. You know we is fight. Garth and us.” When Griffin acknowledged he recalled that tale with a curt, angry nod, they continued. “What you is not know is we is nearly killin’ ‘im. Damn near did the job that no one else in the entire Universe could’ve done.”
“Not possible. He’s a paradox. Handpicked and groomed by the Engines themselves to bring about the End of Everything.” Griffin wanted to act like a five year old, wanted to cover his ears up and pretend he couldn’t hear a damn thing.
“Yeah, and I is second chosen by them Engines to do the deed should Nickels have proven incapable.” Chad tapped the side of their noggin with two fingers. “Fink about it, lad. I is fight King Barnabas Blake the One and Only and nearly kill him wivvout any powers at all! You is fink summat like me is come about on accident? We were backup. When we is fight, I is stuffed to the tits wiv unknown Brigadier powers and the mind of a fookin’ CyberPriest. When we is say I is nearly kill him, I is not sayin’ that wiv pride. I is sayin’, ‘I is nearly fuck the Universe a new hole and if we could go back and stop ourselves, we is do just that’.”
Griffin didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking, especially considering the fact that Antal was listening. The Kith was in control of nearly every atom in the Galaxyship, and turning a planet into a broadcast radio station for his amusement was a feat that was definitely in his wheelhouse; if there was something wrong with Garth, the Kin’kith did not think it should be spoken aloud anywhere where Antal might be looking.
At the same goddamn time, if there was something wrong with his daddy, he needed to know. And now.
“What happened to ‘im?” Griffin demanded after a long silence.
“Worl. That’s just it, innit? We is all know wot Nickels is do when ‘e is confronted by superior firepower, don’t we just?” Chad gave a lopsided smile. “’e is invent summink. Now, wot he were inventin’ weren’t because ‘e were afraid of fightin’ us, not at all. On the contrary. ‘e were well and wicked ready to do battle wiv us on that rooftop. Just as cocky as you please, ‘e were. Naw, wot ‘e were workin’ on, he were doin’ so to deal with Sa Gurant, the Goddie infected wiv that weird extra-dimensional stuff ‘e’s got. I is not around for it, but I is understand that Gurant were turnin’ into some kind of Godling or summat.”
Griffin knew the particulars of the fight between Gurant and Garth because Antal was very close to a comic book or action movie villain. He was ridiculously willing to divulge dang near everything he knew about anything. That was what happened when the only other people you had near you were clones with about as much personality as a damp rock.
“He demolished Gurant. Classic N’Chalez shenaniganery. From whut Ah heard, he acquitted himself quite nicely. So whutever he built to defeat th’ Goddie worked out just fine.”
Only Griffin knew it couldn’t be that way, otherwise they wouldn’t be having this awkwardly stilted conversation.
“Oh yeah, well, sure, ‘course ‘e did. Nickels, right?” Chad shot the tail end of his cigarette off into space in a completely pointless display of power. “But wot you is not know is that wot Garth were buildin’ … didn’t work. Wouldn’t of. Couldn’t of. In ‘is worries, in ‘is desperation, because wotever ‘e’d been goin’ through on Hospitalis … oh, aye, there were a lot goin’ on there, more than I is know an’ we is reckon you might piece it together if you thought about it … ‘e were desperate. Dunno if ‘e were losin’ ‘is powers or wot, but ‘e built ‘imself summat Huey called ‘quadronium implants and augments and all manner of fucking bullshit he shouldn’t have been fucking around with in the first fucking place, Christ, what an arsehole’. I is paraphrase there a bit, but that’s the gist, hey?”
“Quadronium implants.” Griffin couldn’t even imagine Garth being worried. The mere notion made him sick to his stomach. Garth N’Chalez. The man who’d conned the Universe, worried. “That’s fuckin’ insane. Whut, ‘e use some kinda enhanced nanobox to drill that shit inta ‘im?”
Chad tapped their nose and pointed at the lad, who were finally racin’ on all cylinders. “Got it in one, laddie buck. Only…”
“This gol-dang conversation is gettin’ on mah tits, Chad. Why ain’t ya’ll tell me this shit before now?”
“Coz we is not know if you is true regret you actions ‘ere this moment, Griffin Jones.” Chad fixed the younger man with the most serious stare they’d ever stared in their long lives. “We is not say we judge you, as you is who you is and you is do wot you is do,
but when it comes to Garth N’Chalez, we is consider everyfing. So we wuz fink, if you is regret and if you is want to do the right fing, we is tell you. And you is. We is see it in your eyes. So we is tellin’ you because now we is know we can trust you, we can use you. To help.”
Griffin opened his mouth to hotly decry that there’d been any reason at all to mistrust his intentions, but then he looked at where they were, considered the things he really had done, first in service to his own selfish, pigheaded ass and then again in assistance –however onerous that’d become after a decade- to Trinity Itself, and just … nodded. He hadn’t been on the N’Chalez bandwagon all that long.
Anyone in their right mind … minds … would do well to treat him with caution. It was the only sensible thing to do.
“Ah git it.” Griffin nodded again, deflated. “Ah understand. Ya’ll were doin’ the right thang, soundin’ me out like at.”
Chad smiled a billion-watt smile and clapped his hands together excitedly. “We is well pleased, Griffin Jones, well pleased indeed. Now. Wot was we sayin’? Oh. Right. Yeah. The implants. They weren’t … proper. ‘e were overwrought an’ overworked and stressed to hell and back, and ‘e … hain’t do a good job designin’ everyfing in the ole implant/augment region of ‘is efforts. Huey tossed ‘im in the box to bring him all the way back to health after me efforts in doin’ ‘im in, right, as is sensible, only … yeah. The design work weren’t up to snuff. Way we is hear it, it were killin' 'im."
"Whut happened?" The merest hint that N'Chalez wasn't one hundred percent filled Griffin with a chilling foreboding that drilled right through him and came around for a second time, just for good measure.
After so long fantasizing about the strength and power that would come from serving the Heshii and then being introduced to the blatant cruelty that was part and parcel of it had been an eye-opener thirty thousand years in the making. The possibility that Antal might have a clear road to destruction was beyond frightening.
"It are difficult to explain, mate. We is not wot you'd actually call a technical sort of person." Chad squinted into the distance, commanding his finely honed cyborg senses to see if there really was something way out there or if they were just imagining things. Onboard systems indicated they'd begin scanning from about three light years out and work their way inwards.
"When Huey is explain fings, 'e is quite a bit like 'is creator. Lots of big words we is not bother to pay attention to, hey? But wot we is take away is that in order to keep Garth alive and not be torn into a trillion tiny bits was, 'e needed to rearrange fings. Internally. All the mechanisms and wotnot is still there, yeah, but inaccessible. All the fings Garth were wantin' to do, okay, would of burned him to a crisp. So Huey added bridges as would need powerin'. From external sources."
Griffin saw immediately what the problem was. "He's powerless? Powerless?"
Nothing from three light years out. The systems moved closer.
Chad were well certain there were summat out there, but he reckoned they had time yet. "Not precisely. 'e is 'ave a trickle-feed of juice from ex-dee. Allows the operatin' system to funnel charge where it's needed. Now, as we is both know Garth quite well, most of that is goin' to fings like strength and murderin' people wiv 'is bare fists, but all them other well wicked fings you lot take for granted ... not so much.
Inside Arcadia, 'e were properly served by the Cloud there at the end and 'e were comin' off the Dark Iron addiction like a true champ. If we is lucky, 'e is a bit like me, yeah? A bit o' the old nannytech mojo to 'elp fings along but beyond that..."
Griffin had never been one to understand much about hytech machinery. It'd always struck him as a poor man's effort at replicating the powers they'd earned simply by being born, but there was one thing he recalled very easily; even the meanest of machines devised through hybridized technology needed a fuckton of juice to get started, much less operate on a long-term basis.
Something like an internally implanted quadronium enhancement system?
"There ain't enough power in the entire fuckin' Universe for somethin' like 'at. Th’more complex a hytech device, the more power it needs. An’ it don’t get more complex than whut yer talkin’ bout." Griffin hung his head low and groaned. "We are fucked, man, plain an' simple."
Scanning systems came up with nothing at two AU out from their current location, which were bugging the hell out Chad. He were certain that there were summat out there, and it weren’t just suspicion. The hims running the sophisticated scanning software moved in another light year and resumed operations, leaving the main Chad to continue talking to the overwrought Kin’kithal.
“Makin’ matters worse, yeah, is the fact that I do fink ‘e is workin’ on getting’ rid of all the fings as weren’t supposed to be in this version of the future as ‘e were ‘opin’ to see.” When you got right down to brass tacks, Garth’s motives weren’t all that complicated. ‘e were, in point of fact, really quite simple, if all you was lookin’ for were the man’s basic steps.
Try to figure shite out after that an’ you was well bollocked.
Head still in his hands, Griffin shifted his body enough to indicate that although he was working on becoming the ultimate epitome of abject misery without actually following through and having a temper tantrum right there on the spot. “Ah’m lissenin’.”
Chad’s temper was well darkening. ‘e didn’t like feelin’ like ‘e were on the wrong end of a bad joke and he were feelin’ like that all over the place, weren’t they just?
Antal might very well be ruler over a Galaxyship and everyfing in it, but ‘e were a motherfookin’ Platinum Brigadier, hey? If they thought there were summat out there in the middle of space, then there bollocking bloody hell were summat out there.
He told all of hims to keep looking. The sensation that they were in danger wasn't going away and likely wouldn’t until they were either dead –looking like the more realistic of options at this particular moment, hey- or said danger had been neutralized.
“Fink about it,” Chad replied, eyes roving the heavens, “an’ you’ll make the conn… you is know wot, we is not ‘ave the time. Look, Garth N’Chalez ‘as a very particular set of requirements for the end of the Unreal Universe, yeah? When ‘e was sit down firty fousand years ago and was like ‘orl right, my bonny chap, let’s us sit down and come up wiv a way to do for the entire fookin’ Universe’, is you really fink ‘e were ‘opin’ summat like King Barmy Barny Blake the Loon were goin’ to pop up outta the woodwork? Because we is tell you, if we is do the same fing, the last fing we is want is a fuckin’ fing like me ole Da come out to play. Sheer fookin’ insanity, summat like that.”
“It ain’t lahk ‘e could plan fer some of the stupid Offworld species we all got out here either, though, raght?” Griffin couldn’t take not looking around anymore, not when Chad Sikkmund –once upon a time, Chadsik al-Taryin- was twitching and fidgeting like a kid in line at th’ dentist. He pulled his head from his hands and craned his head outwards until he was looking in the same direction as the visibly agitated assassin. “Guaran-godddamn-tee ‘e wouldn’t of approved o’ the Mycogene-Alzants or any dang thing like ‘em. Whut in the hell is goin’ on with you, son? Yer twitchier’n a huntin’ dog in the tall grass right about now.”
“We is not care about Offworlders, mate.” Chad froze, just for a second. There were readings to be had, but they were … late. Afterimages. Ghosts of data in the sky, the spectral indication that something had been there but no longer was. Most of him started packing their metaphorical bags, while the few cool-headed ones of them decided it’d be more prudent to look for a way out.
They had a few minutes still, and they were gonna get this off their shoulders one way or the other, hey?
“That is wot Trinity was for. Well, for wot ‘e were programmin’ it for.” Chad pointed to the heavens with two pale fingers. “You is see anyfing? You is keep you eyes peeled for summat movin’ right wicked quick while we is wrap this up.” The Arcadian ignor
ed Griffin’s agitated cries for more explanation. “Garth took me ole Da down because ‘e were a right fuckin’ nob and a lunatic on top o’ all that, sure enough. Anyone who did ‘ave that kind of power needed to be get taken down all of the pegs, right, but there were a reason ‘e were drawn there, e’en if ‘e didn’t see it ‘imself, right? We is talk ancient tech as shouldn’t be in use, anywhere, except where The Man ‘imself were directin’, right? Anyfing?”
“Negative.” Griffin extended his Kin’kithal senses as much as he could but wasn’t holding his breath that he’d come up with anything useable. He was a combat Kin’kith. His senses fell in a different path entirely.
“’s wot we is fink.” Chad adjusted his protocols, ordered the hims to deviate from the macro to the micro and suggested they start looking within terrestrial range of their location instead of so far out. If they were trying to track something moving at or near the speed of light, chances of finally seeing wot were bugging them would increase exponentially the closer they got to the surface of the planet.
That also increased the likelihood of their deaths at Antal’s hands, but wot could you do, hey?
Griffin was busy working through any likely non-Offworlder suspects that might’ve drawn Garth’s specific type of interest, then started cursing a blue streak when he finally happened on the only being that met all of the man’s criteria.
Human.
Well, most likely human at one point. Incredibly powerful, powerful enough to possibly threaten a lone Engineer’s plans for Universal Destruction. In possession of technology that might not only make defeat incredibly more difficult, but tech so absurdly powerful it was a miracle it hadn’t already been used to conquer … everything.
“Ya’ll’re fuckin’ with me raght now.” Griffin hissed bitterly. This time, his hands were pressed against his ears, almost as if he were trying to physically prevent the news from entering through his ears.
