Station

by Jarrett Brandon Early

  Hadder sat in shock. That shock, however, quickly morphed into a healthy respect for the people of Station. Long he had felt they acted like children, willing to let others dictate how the rest of their second lives would play out. But it seemed like even the most tractable puppet eventually tired of its strings. "Ok, Glen, I'm in."

  Glen stood up, grabbed Hadder by the elbow. "Don't tell me, partner. Tell them."

  Glen led Hadder to the front doors of The Royal Jelly, flung them open. A deafening cheer rang out from the Bar's sweeping lawn, where thousands of residents had gathered, rallying for their chosen course of action and for the selected captain who would lead them all to their deaths. Chants of "Hadder" broke out from the din as bladed weapons were raised high to the large Idol Moon.

  Hadder allowed the celebration to go on for several minutes before stepping forward and raising his hand. Silence fell over the resident mass. "So, you want to have a proper fight!" The lawn exploded once more in a cacophony of screams, cheers, and chants. Hadder held up his hand again. "I won't lie to you, my friends. We probably can't win. We probably can't live through this. But I'll tell you what we can do. We can make sure that most of those bastards don't make it to the Before. And those that do will make the trip with broken bones, bruised muscles, carved up flesh, and missing teeth. Yes, we'll probably all die out there, but we'll die on our terms, on our feet, not our backs. And we'll have a fucking great time doing it! Are you with me?!"

  The crowd's reaction blew Hadder's hair back and caused tears to form in his eyes. Hadder looked over to Glen, who continued to stare at the gathered Setters through his mask of Zen. He looked to Hadder. "They're ready."

  Hadder put his arm around Glen's shoulders, squeezed his friend. "We're all ready, Glen."

  The Royal Jelly became mission control for the entirety of Setter preparations. Each Solay, residents from across the Setting would come to drop off weapons they had crafted, train with others, and form bonds with those they would die next to in short order. As weapon creation and training went on, Hadder and other Cluster leaders walked through the organized commotion, offering words of encouragement while discussing strategy.

  Given the group's desire for a one-and-done battle that would conclude the war in a single fell swoop, there was really only one location in all of Station that could accommodate both armies while allowing for complete freedom of movement. Therefore, the Grasslands were chosen as ground zero of the Great War, a place that would forever be littered with the bones of a city lost to time. Glen showed concern for the plan. "Why would The Krown even do this? Surely he would rather attack us here, surround us and pick us apart, minimize his losses."

  Hadder responded. "You're right, Glen. The Krown would certainly rather do that. But he won't be able to."

  "Why not?"

  "Because we're going to openly challenge him in front of his army. He can't afford to appear weak or afraid, not to that crazed bunch. Any weakness he shows will surely welcome potential usurpers. Remember, this is the same man who was willing to fight Ego Rounds in single combat when he was dominating the Riser Wars. If we challenge him to what is essentially a fair fight, he'll be forced to accept. Losses be damned."

  "And how do you plan on challenging him?"

  "There's no easy way. Someone's gonna have to go up there and deliver the message."

  "You're not going, Hadder. End of discussion."

  "I can't ask anyone else to go. Wouldn't be right."

  "Neither would abandoning your army on the eve of battle."

  "He wouldn't dare harm me before the war."

  "You forget. He already tried."

  Hadder had no comeback for that particular point of Glen's. "What then?"

  The group of Setter leaders continued their discussion on the porch of The Royal Jelly, throwing out various suggestions, from drawing names from a hat to opening up the dangerous job to volunteers. Dying in battle was one thing, getting butchered as a messenger was something completely different, much less honorable.

  As the leaders bandied around solutions, someone escaped the mass of residents on the lawn, began to climb the porch steps. Hadder's mind spun to identify the woman closing in on the group. When who she was finally clicked into place, Hadder gripped the knife at his belt, readied it for blood.

  Jackie Crone was almost unrecognizable in simple dark blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a sweater. Her white hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that mirrored the too-tight old skin of her face. Her blue eyes were all that remained of the powerful Key who once lorded over the Celebration Cluster's most notorious Bar. They continued to blaze with hatred and judgment as she stopped a respectful distance from the group.

  Hadder's palm hurt as he gripped the knife tightly, praying that the old woman did something, anything that would give him reason to plant the blade in her bird chest. "Jackie Crone. Tired of tormenting the unsuspecting? Or are you finally realizing that your wasted second life is coming to an end?"

  Jackie fired back. "Still stinging from our time together, boy? But we had fun, no?"

  The gathered leaders looked at Hadder with questions, some amused, but most disgusted. Hadder decided it best to keep the conversation moving. "What do you want, Crone? We're discussing important matters here."

  "Like who to send to The Krown as a messenger?" Hadder's dumb look made Jackie smile a bit, showing her yellowed teeth. "Yes, yes, we all know what must be done. I'm here to make it easy on you. I'll take your message to The Krown. Give me details before I change my mind."

  A snarky comment formed on Hadder's lips before he willed it away. "Before I give you the details, may I ask why, Jackie?"

  The old bag of bones shrugged. "My time here has drawn to a close. As I feared, your appearance expedited that inevitability. I'm no warrior. And I'm no goddam Riser, either. The thought of returning to the wretched Before turns my guts. So I might as well put myself to some use. As you said, I tormented a lot of residents in my funhouse. And I loved every moment of it, drank each experience down like an aged bourbon. Now that the fun's over, maybe I owe some reparations for my actions. So, that's that. Now, what do you want me to tell that pointy-headed twat?"

  Hadder grinned at the old woman. Although he stilled wanted to throw her from a building, he had to respect her dedication to her gimmick. "Tell The Krown that we will meet him in open battle five Solays from today, on the Grasslands, at the largest point of the Idol Moon. Winner takes all. No survivors. No prisoners."

  Jackie Crone turned her head and spit on the porch; a dark green loogie hit the wood with a loud splat. "Well, you all are certainly letting your balls hang. No shame in that. I'll tell the freak."

  With that, Jackie Crone began down the steps of the porch, her careful movements showing the effects of age. Hadder called after her. "Jackie, make sure you return swiftly after."

  Jackie responded, but refused to turn back to the group. "Silly boy. You'll get the answer you seek, I'm sure. But I very much doubt that I'll be returning to deliver it to you."

  Several of the resident Setters were former soldiers, had previous martial arts training, or simply had participated in numerous street fights in the Before. Hadder and Glen watched as these men and women trained small groups throughout The Royal Jelly's lawn. Looking to his right, Hadder watched as Jonny VV worked with a woman named Israel Izzy as she showed him various Krav Maga techniques. Near the edge of the lawn, his old friend Goldie was learning how to slip a punch from Tender Hollins, an accomplished boxer in his former life.

  Glen commented from Hadder's left. "Well, we're all gonna die. But we ain't gonna go out like punks. Everything's going well, brother."

  As Glen spoke, Hadder's attention was drawn to the south side of the lawn. "And it may get better yet, Glen."

  From one of the southern pathways, Lester Midnight's muscled doorman Gondo entered the lawn, pulling a large cart behind him. He spotted Hadder from across the grass and approached, the wagon banging loudly. Gondo dropped t
he handles as he neared Hadder, wiped his brow as he panted. Although the doorman still wore his black suit pants and high-gloss dress shoes, he had stripped down to his wife-beater, showing off his impressive, no doubt Elevated, muscles. His bone mohawk shined white under the Solay's rays.

  "Well met, Gondo. What brings you here today? Quite a load you have there."

  "It's heavier than it looks," said Gondo as he shook Hadder's hand. "Good to see you, Hadder, I've been following your exploits from afar. No news or gossip fails to reach Biomass."

  "So, I've learned."

  "Anyway, I just wanted to say that I respect what you're doing here. We can't just let those monsters moonwalk into the Before. We all failed that place one time; no need to make it a habit."

  "Well said, Gondo. Now, what have you brought?"

  "A gift from Lester Midnight. Here's the note that goes along with it."

  Gondo handed Hadder the folded message. Hadder was relieved to see that it was written on plain paper this time rather than someone's flayed skin. He opened the note and read the message aloud.

  "Greetings, darling. While skin, muscle, and bone will always be my favorite medium, sharpened metal is a distant second. Please accept some of my past works as a donation to the cause. Please don't judge them too harshly. I know they appear a bit ostentatious, but trust that they'll sever bone like butter. See you at the party. Kisses. LM."

  As Hadder recited Lester Midnight's words, Gondo peeled away the canvas covering from the cart to reveal a stockpile of ornate bladed weapons. Hadder shielded his eyes as the rays of Solay reflected off the highly polished surfaces of the handcrafted blades. Hadder and Glen moved towards the cart like children on Christmas morning who just received what they desperately wanted, but were too shy to request. An assortment of weapons littered the cart, including knives, hand axes, an array of swords, lances, halberds, and several unusual creations that were foreign to Hadder. Each weapon was decorated with scrollwork, gemstones, and other cosmetic embellishments.

  Glen gingerly picked up a beautiful Bowie knife, tested its edge. "It's sharp. It's really fucking sharp."

  "They all are," said Gondo. "And strong, too. They may look as if they were made for the movies, but Lester doesn't make things that don't function."

  Images of Lester Midnight's “Biomass” display and his description of the exhibit assaulted Hadder. "I know what you mean. Lester has our sincere thanks. What about you, Gondo? Will you stay with us for a bit? We could use a man with your size and skills."

  Gondo shook his head. "Nah, I must get back to Lester. But don't worry, we'll be by your side at the Fall. Which reminds me, Lester wanted to know when the Great Battle will take place."

  "If all goes to plan, it will be four Solays from today, at the heaviest of the Idol Moon."

  "Then, I'll let Lester know."

  "Gondo, one more thing. The Haela before the Fall, we're going to gather one last time here on the lawn. Have one final Bash, say goodbyes properly this time. I would love you both to join us."

  "I'll pass your invite along, Hadder. But no promises. Lester is in the process of closing down the museum, so he's been busy terminating his displays."

  "Sounds somber."

  "There's much cleanup. Now I will leave you. Don't worry if you don't see us at the Bash. Look to your right at the Great Battle. Lester and I will be there."

  Glen turned to Hadder after Gondo left. "So, I guess we should start distributing these weapons."

  Hadder sifted through the trove of weaponry, gleefully testing out various makes. "Absolutely. But not before we get our pick of the litter." Glen smiled and joined Hadder in pouring through the vehicles of butchery.

  CHAPTER 27

  "It's been two Solays now and no answer, Hadder."

  "The Krown's just trying to make us sweat it out. No need to make it easy on us."

  "You sure about that? You don't think they're going to just attack in the middle of Haela, pinch us from two sides, end us that way?"

  Hadder thought, but just for a moment. "No, The Krown wants a grand fight, something to unite his followers and bolster their energy for the trek into the Before. He's just making us twiddle our thumbs. Remember, he's a dick."

  Hadder and Glen sat on the porch of The Royal Jelly, sharing a joint as they took in the beauty of the lawn and its surrounding gardens as Haela fell and the iridescent creatures of the night awoke. Glen seemed especially contemplative. "Are you scared, Hadder?"

  Hadder didn't want to lie to his last remaining friend. "I've died twice now, Glen. And both times were terrifying. Now I'm staring down a third trip into the abyss. But this time, for the first time, I'm prepared, truly ready. So, no, I'm not scared. But that in and of itself is kinda scary."

  "What makes you feel ready?"

  "I know I was here for a short time compared to yourself, but I feel like I accomplished a lot in terms of living. I finally came to grips with losing my family. I made some close friends, lost a great friend, avenged a misdeed. I loved again, had my heart broken again. I have witnessed things never imagined, put my head in the jaws of a beast and took it out unscathed. I watched a Great Duel between two goliaths, met an artist of the flesh, and may have become acquainted with a god. If my life was empty those final days in the Before, it's overflowing in these final days of Station. The Rage that has plagued both my lives, I will release it all during the Great Battle and pass on with a clean slate. How about you, Glen?"

  "I want to get one more piece of young ass, then I'll be good to go."

  Hadder laughed and slapped his friend on the shoulder as the lawn filled with night bugs creating miniature fireworks shows. The yard hummed with natural light from hundreds of variations of life. As the two men sat smoking and drinking, looking out onto a world seen by so few, they would be foolish to feel anything but lucky.

  Their answer came late the next Solay, as residents finished up their training, many growing accustomed to their new weapons supplied by Lester Midnight, their swings becoming sharper, stronger, and more accurate. A Setter named Roco Roc, who had been stationed at Cranesman as a sentry tasked with watching if the Riser army crossed the Lethe, passed through the throngs of residents, carrying a black wooden box. He cut a straight path through the lawn, arriving at Hadder and Glen in short order.

  "Hadder."

  "Roco. What do we have here?"

  "A single Riser dropped it off, left it in the middle of the Bridge Gab'Riel. One of our spotters retrieved it when the Riser left and brought it to me. I'm pretty sure it's for you."

  Roco passed the box to Hadder, who stared nervously at its hinged top. "Did you look in it?"

  Roco shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. "I did. I didn't want to bring anything dangerous here."

  "Sound logic. What's in it?"

  "I think it's best if you looked for yourself."

  Hadder gently lifted the top of the box; the rusty hinges let out a scream as if in warning. On the underside of the lid, roughly carved into the dark wood, was a single word - ACCEPT. Inside the box, Hadder was greeted by a white bun of hair, which he grabbed and lifted. Hadder let the box fall to the ground as Jackie Crone's head came out in his hand. Her dangerous blue eyes had been plucked out, and a second message was scrawled into her head with a blade. An X had been carved into the middle of her forehead, with a simple sentence above.

  GIVE US A KISS.

  Hadder showed Glen, then dropped the old woman's head back into the box on the ground. He kicked the box closed with his foot. "Well, neither subtle nor classy, but at least we have our answer. Gather everyone. We need to let them know that we have one last Solay to train. And to plan for a Bash that will send us all off with smiles on our faces."

  Glen smiled. "We may be shit at fighting, but when it comes to planning a Bash, no one does it like a resident of Station."

  The final Solay of training went well, equal parts work and frolic. An infectious buzz and humming energy permeated the residents a
s they finalized basic blade techniques and prepared for the Haela's festivities.

  Some of the furniture from inside The Royal Jelly was brought outside and laid out across the lawn. Hidden lawn speakers were checked and double-checked while additional speakers were brought out from behind The Royal Jelly's famous stage. Although the yard was reasonably lit during Haela thanks to the iridescent creatures and vegetation that surrounded the Bar, more lighting was brought out and set up. In short order, the lawn of The Royal Jelly looked to be a breeding ground for one of history's grandest celebrations.

  Hadder sat on the Bar's porch as the last of the residents trickled out to prepare for the Haela's Bash, deemed by most residents the Great Goodbye. Glen returned from making some alterations to the inside of the Bar and joined Hadder. Together, the two friends sat for a bit in silence, taking advantage of one final moment of quiet reflection as they admired the home that their lost friend Royal had created within this strange world that was Station.

  Hadder was the one to break the silence. "I'm looking forward to hearing Miles sing one last time."

  Glen shifted in his chair. "I guess no one told you. Miles went over to the other side. Was one of the few who joined them after that shit show at the Samsara. Probably thinks he's gonna be a huge star in the Before, the next Michael Jackson or some shit. That plan didn't work out so well for someone else we knew."

  Hadder was unable to mask his disappointment. "I think he doesn't quite understand that the Risers aren't planning on being huge supporters of the arts. They're more likely to start burning books like a bunch of Elevated Nazis."