by Lee Bond
“So he’s been inside you this whole time?” Drake shivered.
“Oh yes.” Aäl nodded. “As you say, Drake, this whole time. Watching from the inner depths, enjoying every moment. Being given the opportunity to behold the Kin’kithal from front row seats, witnessing how he deals with every challenge thrown his way, has been most eye-opening. Over the decades, I’ve come to appreciate how terribly lucky we were to’ve encountered this one at the beginning of his time instead of now. Had this version of him arrived, unannounced, dragging Samiel in his wake like a fetid fishing lure, the events that occurred in our Dream would’ve gone much differently. There is every chance the whole of the world would've been destroyed."
“And there you have it, boys and girls.” Garth bowed deeply, sweeping his knuckles across the smooth floor. “Aäl’s very own nutshell. How he and his tricked me into letting them into Reality 2.0, how things really went down inside the Proto-Reality, the whole nine yards. The only thing I need to know, Aäl old buddy old pal old friend of mine, is why the fuck we’re all here? You certainly didn’t pop out of the woodwork simply to rescue me. You never tried before, not even during Tannhauser, when I could’ve definitely used a little A-game support, and I had things nicely sewn up here, so why now? What’s the reason behind all this bullshittery? I got stuff to do.”
“Why, I thought it was obvious.” Aäl replied, puzzled.
“No.” Drake shook his head defiantly.
“Yes.” Aäl returned boldly. “Time for another bargain, you talking monkeys.”
***
Garth stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around for a long second, staring sideways at Aäl. "I'm sorry, I think I just suffered a brain aneurysm or something. It sounded like you just said 'time for another bargain', and the last time I checked, you and I are still on track."
"Were on track." Aäl gestured once more to the two talking monkeys, both of whom flinched once again. It was nice to see that monkeys from any version of Reality were capable of figuring out what kind of situation they were in, even if they comprehended only the merest whisper.
"Why do I feel like we're being singled out, chum?" Drake nudged Eddie, who seconded the sentiment.
"When this one came to our little Dream the Engines had, we were furious." Aäl admitted this readily, for if Gods proved incapable of owning their own emotions, they'd be little better than the talking monkeys they'd shepherded through the darkest times. "When we calculated the damage his presence caused, when we tallied the utter devastation Samiel was wreaking across the entire expanse of Time itself, we were livid. Myself," here, Aäl bowed deeply, graciously, "and a few others wanted nothing more than to destroy him where he stood. The damage, you see. Our quiet corner became noisy and lurid and … festering. And yet…"
"Here it comes." Drake, who'd been waiting for the shoe to drop for some time, steeled himself for whatever was coming. He knew it wasn't going to be good, yet against wisdom, he was kind of curious.
"And yet," Aäl spun to confront the two talking monkeys who'd aspired to rise above the imperfections of their genome and had failed spectacularly, "nothing can compare to the damages these two jabbering, asinine morons left in their wake. Because of them, Dreambreaker, the terms of our original contact have been rendered null and void. Because of them, my brothers are no more."
***
Eddie couldn’t help himself; the laughter that threatened to erupt out of him during tense situations did so at the most inopportune moment, right when Garth was about to address Aäl’s impossible statement, spilling all over the man’s incredulous words and shocking his dear friend Drake to the point where the blonde-haired man actually stepped away to one side.
In front of him, alabaster Aäl’s already albino countenance conspired to turn paler still, adopting as the laughter washed over him a frosty expression that was the equal of any iceberg in any ocean.
While Aäl himself turned colder and paler still, his long flowing robes arranged to go blacker than black itself, becoming nothing short of an open wound in the middle of the room from out of which anything might spill; the ebbing and flowing edges of the God’s robes, always on the move, always shifting beneath unseen forces, moved unerringly towards mocking Eddie, curling and brushing against the deposed monarch’s legs.
Aäl was suddenly right in front of the shabby chimpanzee, tomb-like face so close to the man that he could feel foul warm breath exhaled from pathetic lungs. “Do you find the death of my brothers amusing, monkey?”
If there was ever a time for a person to recognize the thin ice they skated upon, it was in that moment. Drake silently urged Eddie to either keep his pie hole shut or to find some words of apology that’d sound at least the tiniest bit apologetic while Garth just leaned back, arms crossed loosely at the wrists.
The worst part of it was, Eddie wanted to stop laughing, but couldn’t. Everything going on had finally –for lack of a better phrase- cracked him open. Everything was going wrong. In the most spectacular of ways, and there was genuinely nothing he could do about it now. If Garth asked him in that moment if he’d been planning on trying to find some way out of this situation, some tricky con that’d get him back on top and aimed right at the Godhood Chair for Reality 2.0, Eddie had no doubt honest confirmation would come spilling out right in the middle of another bellyful of laughter.
Because who wouldn’t secretly –especially after not so secretly- lust after that kind of power?
But this whole thing … this … Aäl situation. There was an actual, living God amongst them, a being tied to the power of the Proto-Reality two out of three of them had come from, an entity who not only possessed the kind of power he’d always wanted, but who’d contrived to steal from him the power he did own.
A being who now apparently wanted them dead for somehow killing all the other Gods from that realm.
It was ridiculous. Ridiculous.
“I can’t be …” Eddie dragged oxygen into his lungs, “I … I can’t be the only one who finds this funny. Right? I think I see now, Garth old friend, why you’re always cracking jokes and telling those stupid stories. Because you’re always right smack dab in the middle of the weirdest fucking shit of your life. It’s either you laugh, or you go on a killing spree that doesn’t end until the entire Universe is smoldering ash at your feet. Isn’t that right, Garth?”
Garth shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Er, well, no, man, actually, it’s … kind of because I don’t take anything seriously. Well, okay, sure,” he relented somewhat when he caught the look in Eddie’s eyes, “maybe the tiniest bit, but … no, man, for the most part, shit’s just funny. But, and here’s the key thing,” he held up a finger, “I don’t laugh at enraged Gods who’ve got the upper hand.”
“You are lucky,” Aäl whispered viciously, “that I need you as a bargaining chip, monkey man. You and your idiot friend are valuable, yes, but not necessary. Laugh again and you’ll die where you stand.”
“Now we’ve got how serious you are about all this tucked away nicely and neatly into bed,” Garth put a hand on Aäl’s arm –felt the shiver there, as if the omnipotent being’s flesh was actually repulsed by the contact- and said, “how’s about you start talking about new bargains, and how these goofs managed to kill twelve of thirteen Gods of the Dream?”
“You are inordinately lucky, Dreambreaker,” Aäl hissed as he removed himself to his preferred spot in the room, “that I deem you slightly less monkey than these two, or you, too, would suffer.”
“Heard it all before, Aäl, and in much more colorful terms.” Garth rolled two fingers in the air. When both Eddie and Drake looked at him, utterly aghast, he explained. “Dunno how you guys keep missing it, but Aäl needs me. Whatever the fuck it is he thinks I’m going to do for him, I am literally the only person in the entire Unreal Universe that can do it for him. There are no other Kin’kithals out there, and the other guys waiting for the Final Fight most certainly won’t. One of them is my dad, and, yeah, he’s bo
som buddies with the Heshii, so that’s kind of a conflict of interest. The other is Trinity Itself, annnnnd that guy would be even less predisposed. So I can run my mouth. You two, not so much.”
“There may come a time,” Aäl foreshadowed darkly, “where you discover you aren’t nearly as needed as you imagine.”
“Copy that, you great big alabaster asshole.” Garth couldn’t stop himself from riding Aäl into the ground. It was precisely because of beings like the marble-esque deity that he’d decided that the best way to deal with the M’Zahdi Hesh was to create a new Reality where guys like that didn’t exist. “Now. I know from personal experience that people don’t actually like all the nutshelling, if only because the impatient shuffling of feet and rolling of eyes and glances at watches that they’re not actually wearing are kind of good indicators. I mean, come on, you literally just threatened Eddie’s life and he’s staring off into the middle distance, actually trying to dig under the control locks you put on the incongruity. And Drake? Well, I guess he’s just standing there. Did a lot of that, I bet, working for Jordan and them other Bishops, hey?”
“Yeah.” Drake nodded. “Lots of standing around, being quiet. Thinking about things. Like, for instance, right now I’m trying to figure out when we might’ve killed a bunch of Gods, but you know, I can’t come up with a single moment where we even ran into you guys, let alone a time where we murdered anyone.”
“You see, Dreambreaker?” Aäl demanded despairingly. “Do you see? These are representatives of the beings you wish to populate your new Reality with! They may walk and talk and may contrive to hold a thought or two inside those cavernous domes of theirs, but they’re barely conscious! What point to them? Do you understand now why me and mine sought to parlay our assistance into rebirth? Without mentors like myself to guide that fresh new dream down the right path, they’ll turn out worse than these two. Unaware! Ignorant! At least you, in your most destructive, in your most nihilistic, prepared yourself for repercussion. Made yourself aware of what comes from your efforts, and you either made attempts to undo or repair the havoc left in your path or obliged yourself to shoulder the burden of grief and regret. But these two! They have no idea! They snuffed out the lives of my brothers without compunction or concern. Bah!”
“That’s all well and good, Aäl, and pal, more than most, I get why you’re so pissed, but maybe if you climbed down off your high horse and actually explained to them how it happened, it might get them to a place where they can apologize.” Garth rolled his eyes as he looked at his two friends, who were suitably unnerved by the uncharacteristically emotional outburst from the only God in the room. “Gods. Long on exposition, short on clarity.”
“Very well, N’Chalez.” Aäl spat the word at the Dreambreaker. “As you like.”
***
The alabaster God released Eddie from his icy bonds. "Take your freedom for what it is, monkey. A gift from someone who has no need to do so. Now. After Samiel was defeated and your friend failed to return to confirm the survival of Drake Bishop, what did you fools do?"
Eddie shifted from foot to foot, mouth suddenly dry as a desert. He'd finally gotten to the point where Drake had arrived some time ago, and was extremely reticent to speak. The dour look from the God in the room suggested that he could be made to tell the story quite easily, which spurred Eddie to begin telling the tale, regardless of personal motivation; his legs and lower body still ached from the unkind caress of the living darkness, a firm reminder that yes, Aäl's statements about control were absolutely true.
"We … we trace Garth's steps, from the moment he'd landed on US soil to the moment he disappeared." Eddie spoke haltingly, still ashamed at his behavior back then. It didn't matter than in the intervening centuries he'd developed what he claimed was a legitimate hatred for all things Nickels. Back then, Garth Nickels had been -more or less- genuinely interested in protecting Drake from the evil hanging over him.
His actions had been nothing short of childish, jeopardizing the life of one of the greatest men he'd known.
"And what did you uncover?" Aäl's voice was a curl of frost-bitten snow flowing through glaciers.
Drake stepped forward to finish the tale as soon as Eddie stepped back from the all-powerful being, the whites of his eyes flashing with purest remorse and a considerable amount of pure terror. There was no way to know precisely why Aäl had chosen the ex-Emperor-for-Life as the target for such otherworldly ire, and even though Eddie might actually deserve it because of the person he'd become in the last five thousand years, Drake couldn't bear it.
"We …" Drake faltered a bit when Aäl's black eyes pinioned him to the wall with extreme focus, "We … followed the trail right to Las Vegas. Found Gentleman Jim's. Found Granger. Interviewed him."
Eddie snorted, but didn't add anything else. The alcoholic Special Agent turned traitor had been the purest definition of 'hostile', forcing the two of them to resort to less than savory methods to get what they wanted. In the end, they'd stepped onto a path that'd eventually lead them to becoming masters of the Incongruity, and then onward into the Unreal Universe.
"'nuff said." Garth dipped his head in mute acknowledgement of the methods they must've been forced to use against Granger. Even in the virtual world he'd just come from, the balding Fed had been a crippling asshole. "Finally hearing from someone other my own handsome self just what I'd been dealing with must've been an eye opener."
"Nothing compared to what we found in the basement." Drake remembered the sense of awe and wonder that'd flooded through the two of them as they'd first found the endless halls, violating all sense of physics and possibility and then…
And then the odd contraption containing the temporal incongruity, a fat chunk of unknown mineral, glowing purple with deadly promise and offers of eternal power, had been unearthed. Tendrils of the stuff had washed against them, an undeniable call pushing them to understand everything they could about what they'd discovered.
Drake relayed all of this to Garth and Aäl offhandedly, caught up more in the memory of that sublime -and regrettable, in hindsight- moment than in the story itself.
"Yes." Aäl hissed, eyes wide with fervor. "And then? What then? What happened next, you pathetic mistakes of evolution!"
"We …" Drake took a deep breath. Somehow, what they'd done next, all intentions above board and with absolute earnestness, had brought them to this point. "We detected the arrival of the Bruushian Incursion a few days before it occurred. We'd spent months uncovering the different powers the incongruity offered up to us and we defended ourselves. Our planet, and all it's peoples. We sent the Bruush packing."
"And had you left it at that, if you'd walked away and gone on to find this one to offer him aid he didn't need, the Dream would've been fine. Been given the chance to heal from the deadly wounds it'd sustained, been ready for this one to harvest for his wondrous quadronium suit. No," Aäl stopped Garth before he could deny or defend himself, "for a wonder, Dreambreaker, there is no fault in your actions. All part and parcel of preparing for the future of Reality 2.0. As you might say in your stupidity, 'no harm, no foul'."
"The fuck you guys do?" No slouch when it came to the ways you could fuck shit up without even being aware until way too fucking late in the day, Garth was nevertheless at a complete loss when it came to Eddie and Drake. The Proto-Reality -or Dream, as Aäl and his brood referred to it- was one of those things that made no fucking sense.
Trying to figure out what they'd done was impossible. That being said, whatever it was had to be seriously off the rails to kill Gods.
"We." Eddie tried to say more, but his mouth clicked shut. He didn't think he'd care about the deaths of these so-called Gods that'd done nothing to actively assist in dealing with Baron Samiel, but the magnitude of what they'd done was a powerful thing.
"We followed them." Drake finished Eddie's sentence, quietly, meekly ashamed. At the time, flush with newfound power, it'd seemed like the most sensible thing to do; though they'd ne
ver spoken with any representative of the Bruushian invasion force, the sheer hostility and rampaging violence evident in the reptilian monsters, even when being beaten back to their own domain, was not the sort of thing to be denied. Beaten, they'd return. It was a no-brainer. "We followed them to a realm officially known by the denizens as the Shattered Dominions."
"Never heard of it." The name meant nothing, the undercurrent of awe in Drake's voice pointless.
