by Ethan Cooper
“Safe…” I grunt.
(a wirewitch infested haven)
(a doomed island)
When you have no direction, no master plan, and few options, what do you do?
You return to what you know.
No matter the danger. No matter the pain.
“I’ll go in with you and…look around,” Kiiziiziixii says. “If it’s not safe, I’ll take you somewhere else.”
(ask yourself again angel why is she)
(helping you)
The thought of pulling the door to the Haven open and walking through it sends me a little off-balance, as if the world just shifted on it axis. I reach out to grab onto something, but there’s nothing there, so I end up flailing my arm out like I’m swatting at some insect. It’s awkward. I’d be embarrassed, but it’s one of the least embarrassing things I’ve done since I woke in that alley. I look over my shoulder at Kiiziiziixii and just shake my head at her. Hopefully she knows what that means.
Told myself I couldn’t do this—couldn’t be with JACK. And yet here I am, returning to the last place I saw her. Tried to stay away but failed.
(need her you’re)
(weak)
Taking two feeble steps toward the entrance and…I can’t do this. Don’t know what I’m going to do if she’s in there. Please oh please let her be gone.
Taking two more steps. Don’t know what I’m going to do if she’s gone. Please oh please let her be in there. Let her be safe.
Pulling the door open, stepping through with Kiiziiziixii following me, I’m pushing forward as fast as I can, willing my hesitation away. I force a path through the crowded entryway, where I’m pressed up against a variety of people and things, the smell of their sweat and the fear on their faces clinging to me like the sticky wisps of a spider’s web. The Haven is more crowded than before. The riots may not be active in this area right now, but it’s obvious that the Haven is feeling some fallout from their presence.
When we approach Tam’s room, everybody in the dimly lit hallway is crowded tight around his door. I need to get in there. By squeezing against the wall, I’m able to slide forward until I break through the crowd, ignoring any angry stares I might be receiving for cutting in line.
But these people aren’t in line for the Guardian as much as they are watching a thin woman in dark green body armor attempt to open the door. A panel beside the doorframe lies open, a trail of pulsing wires trailing from inside the wall to a beeping device in the woman’s hand.
“Are you the Guardian?” I ask.
“I’ll know the answer to that when I get this door open.” The woman glances up at me. Oh, wait, she’s a girl; she can’t be any older than I am, and wow is she pretty. Her eyes are purple. The hair that frames her face in large curls is the shade of black that only exists inside a singularity. Her face is so captivating, I sort of want to sit back and stare, or maybe give her a super tight hug. Not attracted to women, or at least I don’t think I am, but a girl can appreciate beauty, right? “Tam missed his check-in. I’m here to find out if he’s still alive.”
That depends on how you define alive. “And if he’s not?”
There’s no need for her to answer, so she doesn’t.
Whispers travel through the crowd like a virus.
The crowd parts for Kiiziiziixii. She moves close to talk low in my ear. “Did you know the previous Guardian?”
I try to not cut myself on her hair talons as I turn my head to reply. “He saved me and a friend.”
“Something happen between you and him? Is that why you were afraid to come back here?”
“Yeah.”
(angel tell her the rest tell her
what happened)
“Is there anything else I should know? Is he dangerous?” Kiiziiziixii asks.
Is he dangerous? Is my hair blue?
The soon-to-be-Guardian swears loudly. “This isn’t going to work. I know zero about hacking door security.”
“Is anybody in there?” I ask, knowing I’m avoiding Kiiziiziixii’s question.
She nods. “There’s two heartbeats, so whoever they are, they’re alive. The Guardian’s tracker implant is in there, but we don’t know who the other person is.”
Yeah, Tam’s tracker implant is in there, but it sure as hell isn’t in Tam.
It’s not easy to lock eyes with somebody that beautiful, but I do my best. It’s like staring into the flares of twin nuclear explosions. It almost hurts. “I know Tam. Let me see if he’ll open the door for me.”
“He wouldn’t open the door for me, and I’m his sister.”
His sister?!?
Well…fuck.
Now I really want to give her a hug.
The lights in the hallway waver and then fade even more, continuing to flicker like they’re considering winking out for good. Tam’s sister swears again. She stands up, eyeing me up and down. “Knew they weren’t going to be able to keep the power on forever. Can only pretend Cyberspace isn’t offline for so long. I’m going to get the power stabilized if I can.”
“Sure,” I say, confused as to why she’s talking to me. Maybe she’s a talker.
(like jack you need her you’re)
(weak)
Her eyes flick to Kiiziiziixii then back to me. “Tam never mentioned you, but if he’s in there and you can get him to answer the door, let him know that I’m going to punch him in the throat next time I see him.” When she turns to leave, I’m wiping tears from my eyes.
Damn you, JACK.
Most of the crowd disperses. Not sure if that’s because Tam’s sister left or because Kiiziiziixii is a one-woman weapon depot. A few curious denizens remain to see what I’m going to do.
What I do is lean my head close to the door, raise my voice loud enough so that I know they can hear me, and say, “JACK, it’s Syl.”
There’s an almost imperceptible series of clicks, then I’m pushing the door open, Kiiziiziixii following me, the door slamming shut. Hopefully Kiiziiziixii’s gonna prevent anybody else from entering.
JACK, the older version—the one I don’t know—is backing away, having just unlocked the door. Tam is two steps behind her. She backs into him, and that’s where she stays.
Kiiziiziixii steps up beside me, her pulse displacer out. “I see now why you didn’t answer me when I asked whether the Guardian was dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“You should have told me. It wasn’t very nice of you to let this be a surprise. Are you absolutely sure about them?”
“I’m sure they’re not going to hurt me.” Physically that is. Too bad physical pain isn’t the only type. Kiiziiziixii is perceptive, so I’m sure that she noticed that I said me and not us.
“Who’s this?” JACK asks. The tips of her hairstalks writhe against the floor, occasionally wrapping around Tam’s ankle.
Looking at her, somewhere close to my heart, something aches.
“My name is Kiiziiziixii.” The barrel of the pulse displacer doesn’t waver. She’s not afraid.
“She saved my life,” I say.
“So did I,” Tam says.
“Who hasn’t?” I’m not even sure what I meant—there’s no question it was the wrong thing to say.
JACK flinches. “That’s what friends do for each other.”
She may look older, but she’s still that probably-not-yet-a-teenager on the inside. Pretending to be older doesn’t make up for lack of experience. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And you do?” JACK asks.
Kiiziiziixii takes a step sideways, creating some distance between us. “What are we doing here, Syl?”
Is that the first time she’s used my informal name?
“There’s no need for the weapon,” JACK says to Kiiziiziixii even though she’s looking at me. “We haven’t threatened you.”
Kiiziiziixii lowers her weapon. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for my behavior.” Yet, the pulse displacer is still in her hand.
“Don’t worry,”
I say to Kiiziiziixii. Before she has a chance to ask what she shouldn’t be worried about, I step across the room until I’m within arm’s reach of JACK. Just like it was before, standing this close to two wirewitches is like being at the rim of a volcano. Can only be here for so long before I’ll melt. “We need to talk.”
“I know.” JACK’s eyes are tumultuous cyclones.
“Alone.”
“Yes.”
“Is there a safe place for Tam if he leaves this room?”
The storms in her eyes still for a moment, right before she puts her chin to her shoulder, inclining toward her progeny. She whispers something to him. He shakes his head.
“This was my Haven,” he says. “I’m not in danger here.”
Given that he himself was attacked, I’ve never heard a statement that was less true than that one. I so want to rail at him for that. It’s either true, or it’s bravado. Either way, becoming a wirewitch doesn’t make you immune to having a big ego.
“Is that a yes?” I ask, in my best you-have-to-be-kidding-me tone.
“I’ll be with him,” Kiiziiziixii says. “I’m not letting him out of my sight while we’re here.”
Not sure why she’s helping me, but right now, I’m glad to have her. “JACK, he won’t do anything. Not to Kiiziiziixii. Not to anybody. You have to promise me that.”
JACK reaches back to caress Tam’s cheek—a gesture that’s both tender and unsettling. He leans his head into it. “He won’t touch her or any of the other humans inside the Haven. Neither of us will.”
Kiiziiziixii’s hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“You’re probably right.” I’m coming to realize that when it comes to wirewitches, there may not be many good ideas. If there are, they’re likely along the lines of stay far away and hope they don’t notice you.
“We’ll be right outside the door. I’ll check on you in five minutes. After you, handsome.” Kiiziiziixii waves her hand toward the door.
Tam’s eyes are fixed on me as he passes; those blue spheres of his are endless pools of swirling turmoil. He doesn’t say anything, but his hairstalk brushes my shoulder. Indescribable jolts spider-dance over my body. I shiver, a strange mix of revulsion and giddiness filters through me.
(admit it angel part of you
likes this
needs this needs
them)
“Tam, your sister is out there,” I say, so close to reaching out and grabbing his wrist. “She said to tell you she’s going to punch you in the throat.”
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t give any indication that he heard me. When he opens the door and exits, I can hear people gasping in the hall.
The door slams shut behind me.
JACK begins to pace, her hands pulling one hairstalk over a shoulder, giving it a tug, as if her hands need something to do. “He remembers everything from before, but the name Tam doesn’t mean anything to him now. His name is 2-85.”
Some part of me knew that this would happen. Some part of me remembers wirewitch coven logistics. That means it wasn’t so much ego from him before, but a true disconnection from me addressing him as Tam.
It’s too painful to stand this close to her. Part of me wants to hug her, to feel her skin under my fingers, to make that precious, intimate physical connection. The rest of me wants to grab her by the shoulders and scream in her face until she’s in tears. Can’t decide which of these two would be more painful. I back up and sit on the bed. The covers are stretched tight, the material cold to the touch.
JACK continues pacing. “I wish you hadn’t run away like that. I wanted to explain things to you, but I had to watch over 2-85. Newborn wirewitches are vulnerable.”
“You know I had to leave. I had no choice. What you did…it was wrong.”
“I won’t apologize for what I did. I can’t apologize for what I am.”
“He helped us! He brought us here to keep us safe, and what did you do to thank him? You stripped his humanity from him, and you did it in a Haven! Everybody’s supposed to be safe here!”
“I suppose you’re right, I could have changed him outside.”
“That’s not the point. You had no right. It wasn’t his choice.”
“I helped him. He wasn’t entirely human—you saw his implants. He was in an in-between state. I helped him complete his transition.”
“Dammit, JACK, do you realize what you’ve done? How much damage you’ve done? You killed him. You violated the Haven. You hurt me. You hurt us.”
“I—I realize that now. That is not something I anticipated.”
(she’s a wirewitch what did you expect she’s a)
(killer)
“Just because you can do something, doesn’t make it right.”
“It’s necessary. We have to survive, and that means we have to make more of us.”
I sigh, not wanting to debate her about whether wirewitches should survive. I lean back against the wall. “Why can’t you just have sex like a normal person?” I mutter. Instant regret on that comment, since she’s possibly not quite thirteen.
“Messy and inefficient. The witchkiss is faster and more meaningful.”
“Again, that’s not the point! Tam was a good person and you fucking killed him!”
JACK stops pacing and comes over to the bed. She kneels down so we’re on the same level. I manage to not recoil. She raises her voice; her words are like boulders grinding together. “I can’t change what I am. I am wirewitch!”
That’s when I realize the static is back, been buzzing ever since I stepped back in the room. It’s louder now, so I can’t ignore it.
This line of conversation won’t get us anywhere. I have a choice. I’m not sure if she and I are supposed to move forward, but if we are—and I admit that a deep part of me wants that—then it requires certain things from me.
“I will…try to accept that,” I say, looking down at the floor. Even as I say it, I don’t know if it’s true. I don’t know if I want to accept what she is. I want her friendship, but she’s a wirewitch. She does wirewitch things. That’s not gonna stop, ever.
“That’s all I can ask for.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you. I know you can’t change what you are, but I can’t change what I am either.”
“I don’t want you to change,” JACK says. Her hand is resting on my knee.
I put my hand over hers. “No more though. You can’t do this again. It’s wrong.”
She’s shaking her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking. I will make others. I have to complete the coven.”
Now we’re both shaking our heads. “You can’t kill any more people. You can’t do it. Not if you want to make this work between us. I won’t be able to handle it. This friendship is a sacrifice for both of us. I need this from you. Neither you or 2-85 can perform the witchkiss while we’re together.”
It’s a while before she responds. “I…I want to do that for you—for us. But this is so new. The urge comes and goes, but it’s strong when it comes. With Tam…it was just him and me, and you weren’t here, and it hit so fast. I’m just explaining it so you can know; I’m not making an excuse. I want you to understand. I…I don’t know if I can control it. I don’t know if I can give you what you need.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know that now. That part I am sorry for.”
“Will you try?”
She nods. “I’ll try. It’s easier to control when you’re around.”
“We need to stay close to each other then.”
Her arms are around me in an instant. I return the embrace, her coarse, technosite-infested flesh against mine. There’s wetness against my neck. Technosite-infested tears.
“Don’t leave me again,” she pleads. Regardless of the maturity of the body that’s pressed against mine, her voice betrays the teenager that still lurks inside.
Kiiziiziixii bursts inside the room. “Oh, good, you’re not a witch,” she says after asses
sing the situation.
“I’m fine,” I say, unable to fully suppress a laugh.
JACK pulls away, her eyes sparkling, something close to a smile playing about her mouth. Things are not okay, but maybe they’re not as bad as they could be.
2-85 returns.
The static lowers. I find myself exhaling in relief. Realizing how tired my body is, all I want to do right now is fall sideways into this bed and go to sleep, but there’s one more difficult conversation I need to have.
“JACK, I need to talk to him alone.”
“What?” Kiiziiziixii asks. “You aren’t serious.”
JACK rises, moving toward the door. “She’s as safe with him as she was with me.”
“I have to do this,” I say. “Again, I’ll be fine. He won’t hurt me.”
Kiiziiziixii rests her hand on her hip, her finger playing with the pulse displacer holster. “You don’t know that,” she says, but she follows JACK out the door.
I stand up. For some reason, it doesn’t seem to be a good idea to be on the bed while I’m alone with him.
As the door closes, 2-85 breathes my name.
33/(2)Syl Gets Kissed
2195.12.15/Night
What is it about the way he says my name?
This.
This was a mistake. Don’t know what I was thinking. I should leave the room. Can’t let myself be alone with him. It’s dangerous. It’s not like it is with JACK. Something will happen if I don’t walk out that door right now. He’s looking directly at me with those unfamiliar eyes. Stop it. Don’t understand what it is I’m feeling here. “What do you want?” I ask.
2-85 takes my question calmly enough. “You wanted to talk with me alone.”
Oh yeah. What the hell is wrong with me?
“I assume you have questions,” he says.
“Your sister was worried about you. Did you see her?”
“No.”
“Are you going to talk to her?”
“I think it would upset her.”
“More than not knowing where you are? More than not knowing if you’re alive or not?”
He considers that for a moment. “Yes.”
“She deserves to know. Don’t be a coward.”
“That part of my life doesn’t have meaning anymore.”
