Miss Brandymoon's Device: a novel of sex, nanotech, and a sentient lava lamp (Divided Man Book 1)

by Skelley, Rune

  No way in hell would he go inside, but Kyle examined the exterior of the tower with great interest. Its form echoed the sandcastle Shaw took him into, but more substantial. Taller than the original, it was made of large sandstone blocks. Along the bottom were bricks, which didn’t match the rest. Kyle recognized them from Rook. The bitch had helped Fin.

  The marriage, the sex, none of it mattered at all, because she hadn’t woven herself into his core structure. Now it was too late.

  But, was it?

  Kyle eagerly clawed at the wall, trying to dislodge the bricks. Not only would he claim them for himself, Fin’s whole fortress would collapse!

  They didn’t budge.

  Kyle growled in frustration and tried sandblasting the wall with a stream of disease specks. Nothing. Ramming it with his horse head did no good either. When he paused in his assault he heard scuttling sounds behind him.

  Whirling around, Kyle came face to face with a dust troll. It drew back and snarled, baring its teeth. One on its own didn’t worry Kyle too much, but as he watched, the cloud of specks he had formed imploded and another dust troll landed behind the first one. They were joined by a third troll and a big, dusty bird. The bird swooped at Kyle, talons extended, beak open but making no sound.

  Kyle flinched and sidestepped the attack. The trolls advanced.

  *** *** ***

  Fin’s mind felt suddenly lighter. Kyle had retreated. What he lacked in finesse Kyle more than made up in brute power, shaking the castle so badly with each blow that Fin’s skull rang and icy sweat ran down his back.

  Fin slowed his breathing and tried to assimilate the knowledge he had gleaned from Kyle.

  Rook wasn’t here anymore. She had been, had in fact married Kyle, slept with him. Kyle convinced her Fin was dead in order to take advantage of her.

  Fin’s disdain for Kyle gave way to cold hatred. Kyle walked behind his desk, placing it as an obstacle between them.

  “Where is she?” Fin asked.

  Kyle didn’t answer, only stared at Fin in what he hoped was a menacing way. An image came to Fin of Rook. Through a green filter Fin saw her with Marcus, felt tremendous pain in his right shoulder and knew he was bleeding. Rook looked terrified.

  “You let Marcus take her? Asshole! He’ll kill her!”

  Kyle’s eyes widened. Fin stood and reached across the desk, poking Kyle where he knew the bullet wound was. Kyle flinched and halfheartedly grabbed Fin’s arm.

  Fin saw another image, this one not as deeply green-tinged. Swooping down to a van. Marcus dead, shot. Rook gone. Profoundly gone. “Vanished off the face of the Earth” was the term in Kyle’s mind.

  Fin shook his arm free and sat down. He knew where she must be. And then Kyle knew.

  Kyle grabbed his head and yelped. He wobbled and sat down heavily. Unsteadily he looked at Fin.

  “Fucking aliens took her? Fucking space spiders? You’re crazy. It was drugs, asshole. Just drugs.”

  Kyle ordered the guards to take Fin back to his cell. Fin felt him hoping like hell this telepathy shit wouldn’t continue. Fin’s perceptions were too much. Kyle pulled a flask out of his pocket and chugged.

  Fin was glad to be led away. Kyle’s thoughts were poison. Like a bitter aftertaste, he could still see Rook and Kyle together. Knowing her better than Kyle did, Fin could see she wasn’t happy. And she certainly wasn’t happy to see Marcus.

  Fin hoped she’d be happy to see him. She once told him she didn’t like heroes, didn’t want anyone to save her. But the aliens were disorganized, and hurting people. Alone in his darkened cell, Fin rubbed his wedding ring tattoo and put out the call.

  “All right, you fucks. You want me so bad, you get me out of this cell.”

  *** *** ***

  Of course Fin was gone. The spiders opened a hole for him and he’d walked right out. Out of his cell, out of Kyle’s reach, out to the asteroid belt. Probably up there with Rook right now, kicking back with a needle full of heroin or a Piña Colada, laughing. Fucking bastard always ruined everything.

  With Fin removed from his immediate vicinity, Kyle sorted his head out and took a closer look at his new Fintelligence. Swiftly but reluctantly he concluded it was accurate. It even fit with the Prophecy. That whole bit about people being called up into the sky made a lot more sense if you took UFOs into account.

  So, aliens existed. How could Kyle use them to his advantage? Without Fin around to exploit, he needed to rethink his plan. Again.

  Kyle would call to the aliens and get them to transport him to their hollow asteroid base. He would destroy Fin, get Completed, reclaim his wife, and restore light upon the Earth. Or maybe just have some really good sex.

  Kyle tried to call to the aliens. Unsure what technique to use, he settled on the one that worked with Travis. Pacing in his penthouse, he concentrated on them. They didn’t answer.

  How fucking galling that Fin could do it but he couldn’t. They were half-twins! They were the Divided Man.

  Fin had pieces of Rook incorporated into the structure of his mind. That Completed him, gave him the extra oomph he needed to surpass Kyle. It couldn’t be anything innate. Kyle refused to accept there was anything, aside from getting fucked up, Fin was better at.

  Rook was the answer after all. The bitch pretended not to know what Kyle needed. Wanted him to fail. But Kyle knew something Rook didn’t. He had her skeletons.

  Turning inward, he entered his own mind. Imagining her heat, he embraced one of Rook’s skeletons. The lipless mouth exhaled that he was on the right track. It implored him not to be angry with Rook. This was something for Kyle to figure out, to prove his worthiness. The skull told Kyle he would soon be more powerful than Fin and would get Rook back. The skull was glad Kyle would win.

  Kyle moved deeper into his brain, hauling the skeletons with him. For all the exploring and plundering he had done in others’ heads, in his own Kyle was navigating without a map or compass.

  Several false starts and dead ends later, Kyle found what he’d been seeking. Sort of. Some kind of pyramid loomed up before him. He’d expected a skyscraper. Fin’s core was a dumpy old sandcastle, Rook’s an academic building. Kyle expected this most inner representation of himself to be more impressive. Sleek, shiny. It disturbed him to find this bumpy stone pyramid.

  Still, it was imposing.

  Ziggurat. The word came to him from Shaw.

  Whatever it was called, it was coming down. Kyle needed to tear the whole thing down and rebuild it with Rook’s help. Since she wasn’t here to participate, her skeletons would have to do.

  Etched into the faces of the blocks were the now familiar words of the Prophecy.

  The top layers came off easily and it felt good, like peeling off a scab. Underneath, the work quickly became painful, the stone blocks heavier. As they scraped against one another, the smell of burning hair choked him. He worked faster.

  The pain became unbearable, like rock strata shifting inside his brain, or the plates of his skull splitting apart and grinding their rough edges. He was only halfway down. A nagging thought now demanded attention. If he ripped this entire structure down, how would he rebuild it? With nothing of himself left, how would he do it?

  The solution came from the skeletons. They rasped that he need tear down only one side at a time, allowing him to rebuild with some of Rook’s bones in place before moving on.

  Two skulls per side, and an assortment of other bones. The pain grew worse the further he went and he could distantly feel violent tides and currents in his blood as if his magnetic field were fluctuating.

  Rebuilding was even more painful than the destruction. Each block he placed released an electrical charge. The rib cages and long thigh bones threw green-white sparks that left markings like a dead language on the blocks, which now resembled oxidized metal more than stone. He was writing a new Prophecy, a new future for himself. Soon he would know how to read it.

  Each skull pulsed in his grip, and spot-welded into place when inserted i
nto the sloping walls. The original ziggurat was flat on top, but this one would be taller. Kyle used the blocks displaced by the bones to complete the point.

  The pyramid looked magnificently eerie, littered as it was with human skulls and other bones. It reminded Kyle of something. An oracle. He decided to ask it a question.

  “Will I win?”

  The skulls answered in unison. The spooky harmonics of eight voices reverberating through the cold structure chilled Kyle and made him smile.

  “It is a sure sign you are destined for greatness, this ability to resculpt yourself.”

  Kyle agreed.

  The ghastly chorus spoke again. “Now you must minister to the masses. Stand before them and show them the path. Restore Light upon the Earth. Fulfill this holy office, and She of Shadowed Wings will return to you.”

  Now that he didn’t need Rook, Kyle wanted her even more.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  TUNGUSKA

  The pennyroyal worked. The relief is exquisite. Must be more careful. I dreamed that a tiny spark was growing inside me — bigger and brighter and warmer. My belly glowed. In the dream it was a good thing because I had someone kind to share it with. Certainly not Marcus. A me that is not me liked the dream. This me knows real life isn’t like that.

  from Rook Brandymoon’s journal, undated

  Fin looked into the dim, green web chamber from the mouth of a corridor. Rook was in there among scads of other abductees, her presence an invisible beacon. Feeling her signal again blurred his vision with tears of relief.

  In the web, he guided his weightless body purposefully, homing in on Rook. He tore away the front of her cocoon and felt a perplexed terror. Blood smeared her face, coated her chest and hands, saturated her hair and the only clothing she wore -- the remains of a blouse. The ghastly light gave her face a waxen cast.

  He could see her breathing. There was no way this could be her blood. It was Marcus’s.

  Fin tried to wipe the dried blood away from her face, and wondered what to do about her clothing. As he stroked Rook’s cheek, she opened her eyes.

  Rook smiled sleepily for a second, then her face convulsed into a grimace of anguish. She wailed and sobbed and tried to turn her face away. At first he thought she was injured, but the pain she suffered was purely emotional. Fin’s desperate queries went unheard. No amount of gentle coaxing would get through. He cried along with her. Large tears soaked his eyebrows and leapt from his lashes when he blinked, wandered where they pleased without gravity to make rules for them.

  Rook hugged herself and shook with spasms of grief, refusing to let him hold her face or kiss her. With all the cocoon stripped away she kept staring at the blood, adding a visceral reminder of her trauma to her torment. Fin knew he must clean her up and began to carry her toward the tunnel. Her total withdrawal made her an easier parcel to transport, curled into a fetal ball.

  Fin carried Rook through the tunnel until he found a door, which he struggled to open. The room was packed full of ghostly, gray-green aliens, grasping one another’s bodies. They did not address him, engrossed in themselves. Fin could pick up faint signs of their thoughts, with an overtone of melancholy.

  He moved on.

  The next bend brought him face-to-face with a familiar-looking group. The largest was Fin’s height. It said, “We will guide you to a safe room.”

  Fin didn’t argue. He could trust them this time.

  Shortly they arrived at an empty room.

  “Get me clean clothes for her, and some water. And send all those people in the cocoons home.”

  The aliens made bowing gestures and departed.

  Fin cradled Rook until they came back. She had quieted, was probably in shock. He looked at what his servants brought. Water in a clear bag, and a plaid flannel bathrobe.

  Before sending the aliens away, Fin asked them to explain what was going on in the other room.

  “They are waiting. All the other groups have converged there. They have become overwhelmed by loneliness and tried to fix it by joining as tightly as they can. It has not helped, so we told them of your return and of your promise to help us. They wait. For you to help.”

  “You haven’t joined them?” Fin was proud that this group stayed together. He felt he had cemented them.

  “We didn’t think it would help.”

  Fin murmured to Rook as he eased her out of her shirt. Something golden came loose and twirled across the room. Fin snatched it and examined it. Rook’s wedding ring. From Kyle. Smeared with dried blood. Fin shuddered.

  “Please get rid of it.”

  The whisper startled Fin. Rook stared at him, pleading, ready to melt into tears again. Letting go of the ring, he went to her. She tried to turn away, but he caught her and held her.

  “I know everything.”

  Rook trembled, trying to pull away again. “No, no. You can’t... I don’t...” Her throat caught and she shook her head.

  “It’s all over.”

  “I gave up, Fin. I didn’t want to, but, but I let you down. I don’t deserve you.”

  “You thought I was dead.”

  Her face contorted and she shook her head again. “So weak. Sorry.”

  Fin gently held her face and tried to look into her eyes. She squeezed them closed.

  He said, “No, I know all about it. I got the story from Kyle. You were strong. I’m weak. When I couldn’t find you, I gave up too.” He looked away for a moment. “You were stronger than me. But we’re together now. It’s all over. It’s all over.”

  Rook finally opened her eyes. She seized Fin. They embraced silently for a time.

  “I love you,” Fin said.

  “I love you.” Rook wept.

  Fin took off his undershirt and wetted it with water from the bag. He began to wash Rook, starting with her face. As he worked she calmed, and he began to feel her thoughts.

  “I can tell Kyle did some damage to your mind,” Fin said. Rook stiffened. “It’s okay. Remember that dream you told me about, when you repaired my tower? It wasn’t a dream. I think I could help you the same way, but only if you want me to. I understand you don’t want anyone in there. It’s up to you.” Fin concentrated on rinsing Marcus’s blood out of her hair, manifesting serenity he didn’t feel.

  Faintly he felt her nod. He looked into her sad blue eyes and she nodded again.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Fin entered Rook’s mind, feeling like a trespasser. He was wary of touching anything for fear of hurting her, hesitant at first even to make a close study of his surroundings lest he read some private notion she hadn’t chosen to share with him. His memories of violations at the hands of Kyle and Shaw made him loath to follow their example.

  All around him dark, tangled pine trees towered. They and the ground were coated with a black slimy substance, like the aftermath of an oil-tanker disaster. The foul sludge was a toxic blend of grief and shame, which must have built up while Kyle had her. Being exposed to it was painful for Fin, so he couldn’t imagine how she felt with her entire mental landscape drenched in it.

  The forest seemed endless. The trees dripped, the drops making nearly silent echoes of actual splashes as they landed. The sludge seeped into the ground. Fin had to do something or all this blackness would be absorbed into Rook’s mind and leave her permanently traumatized. Cleaning the acrid stuff off the trees proved impossible, as it clung tenaciously to every needle. He changed his focus, pulling back until he gained an overview of the scene.

  A large clearing drew his attention, the trees flattened outward from a square pit too regular to be a crater. It was a basement without a house, and it was the source of all the black stuff. Something cataclysmic happened here and toppled the trees. The inner rows were held up by the ones behind them, which leaned a little less and were supported by the rows behind them. And on and on. Rook’s own Tunguska.

  Fin moved in to the site of the explosion and waded into Rook’s emotional tar pit. The black oil weighte
d him down with bleakness, sorrow. It burned his skin with anger. The fumes were the worst, a powerful, flammable stench of guilt choking him and stinging his eyes.

  Buffeted by waves of emotion, awash in full Sensorama replays of carnal acts with Kyle and the pleasure she’d taken in them, Fin stifled his own anger. They’d have to talk it through later, but for right now she needed him to heal her. Which meant he must put it aside.

  But how could he? Frank justification for her self-loathing saturated everything, everywhere he looked. Stifled or not, anger pulsated through Fin. Just as she had reason to feel guilty, he couldn’t help feeling there was reason for him to be furious.

  And suddenly he couldn’t be. In her horror over what happened she wanted Fin to lash out, to punish her for Kyle’s crimes, as if he could erase them.

  Even if she would be erased, too.

  Fin had the power to take these memories away from Rook, but it would be exactly what Kyle did and it would ultimately bring about the same catastrophe. Nothing in his power could alter her past, but he didn’t want to. It was part of her, and he accepted it. He longed to tell her, but would she be able to believe him? Believing she’d betrayed Fin was poisoning Rook’s forest, and, tragically, it didn’t seem to matter that she was wrong.

  The sludge eruption was very recent, based on how fast it was soaking in. It happened when she awoke and saw him, when the lie she’d accepted to mask her pain was revealed. Fin wished he could have prevented this upheaval, her anguish. It was his fault she suffered, even though the sludge was of Kyle’s creation.

  Now his own appalling sadness threatened to overwhelm Fin. He wanted to sag down into the muck, let it engulf him, but that would mean failing Rook. He couldn’t let her down, but that was precisely what he feared he was doing. He choked back sobs.

  But he wasn’t choking on the awful fumes anymore. He looked down at the sludge and saw it turning clear where it touched him, his acceptance a purifying catalyst. As soon as he saw what was happening, he waded into the deepest pools of contamination, spreading himself through as much of it as he could reach. The clarifying effect propagated outward from him wherever he went. Soon all of what the pit contained, and much on the nearby trees, sparkled like dew. He laughed and cried at the same time, watching the clarification spread over the next row of trees, and the ones beyond them.