Chapter Twenty-Four
Nadia woke with a pleasant buzz in her system; a pleasant buzz that disappeared the moment she tried to open her eyes. She had never realized the light of a glorious spring morning could carry the impact of a sledgehammer. Groaning, she pulled a spare pillow over her eyes and repeated the pitiable sound when it didn't help. Feeling her stomach beginning to turn rapidly, she rolled out of bed and, draping her blanket over her head and shoulders, half-stumbled, half-crawled her way to the bathroom. Bracing her elbows on the edges of the toilet bowl, she let her stomach do its thing; at least the taste of bile in her mouth gave her something else to think about other than how much pain she was presently in. After a few minutes spent repeating more or less the same motions over the toilet, she resolved to remember exactly what she had done last night; then never to do it again. Ever. For the rest of her life.
She had been drinking, obviously. She remembered finding a nice pub, then a seat she had seemed rather possessive of, for some strange reason. She had eaten... a lot, though she couldn't remember what exactly had been on her menu, nor how much she had consumed. A glance down into the toilet bowl suggested a few ingredients, but also prompted a fresh addition to its contents; she made sure to flush after every similar episode thereafter.
She remembered that there had been no dancing; judging by how utterly ruined she presently felt, that was probably for the best. She did not need any embarrassing memories adding themselves to her miserable condition. She felt her face reddening as she remembered just one, potentially embarrassing, memory drifting up through the murk of her memories. There had been a guy. He had sat down beside her somewhere after her... well, she couldn't remember how many drinks she had had at that point, but she remembered the man.
Tall, dark, handsome; the cliché made her giggle, which in turn prompted her head to remind her of her present suffering. Moaning, she clutched at her temples and vainly attempted to appease the pain ravaging her skull with a massage. Feeling an ever-increasing need to distract herself from this, she refocused on the memory of the guy. Her impression of the fellow had him being at least six feet tall, though she couldn't remember him doing anything but sitting, so it was hard to be sure. Tanned skin, dark hair, and a great smile; she wondered if, in her drunken state, she had given him her phone number. Despite the satisfaction she would have gotten from actually getting a call from the handsome stranger, she hoped not. How would she have explained she just couldn't see him, or anyone else, right now? No, I'm sorry, I was recently in love with a young man who turned out to be a shape-changer in disguise? She sighed, knowing there wasn't anyone who would buy that. But that's what had happened. Thomas was gone; stolen, shanghaied, replaced by a mentally unstable man who looked like he saw a beautician twice a week to maintain his dye job and freaky contacts, but never the sun.
Feeling her stomach was now officially empty, though not any less peeved with her, she pulled herself upright and staggered into the shower, still grumbling quietly to herself. She even caught herself wishing she had not known Thomas at all, which only added self-recrimination to the mix of emotions she had to deal with. Pushing such bitterness from her mind, she let the water soothe her as best it could without interruption and felt a little bit better by the time she stepped out. Towelling herself off and climbing back into her pyjamas, she stepped out into the hallway and made her way toward the kitchen.
Emerging into the living room while en route, she saw the aforementioned eerie individual seated on one side of her couch; the television was set to the news and he was paying attention with a slightly bored expression. Continuing past without having him take any obvious notice of her, she downed two tall glasses of cold water, along with some medicine for her headache, before setting to work on breakfast. Specifically, toaster-cooked waffles from her freezer. Wolfing two down while she readied two more, she soon felt somewhat human again; she was in the ballpark, at least, even if she was playing outfield.
Taking a deep breath, she prepared another plate of waffles. Finding a clean fork, she moved back into the living room and offered the plate to Orion. "Here."
Glancing at her, her guest hesitated for a moment before shifting into a cross-legged posture. He took the plate, balancing it on his knee while steadying it with one hand; wielding the fork in his free hand, he set to the offered breakfast. Nadia found a seat for herself at the opposite end of the couch, but was unable to watch him eat; he kept looking at her and each time their gazes met she would involuntarily avert her eyes. She had hoped she would have gotten over the unsettling feeling exuded by his sanguine irises by now. Not quite yet, apparently.
Finishing off the contents of his breakfast, he set the empty plate on the floor with its fork set upon it. Redirecting his gaze to Nadia, he studied her for a few moments, before turning his attention back to the television. Frowning, she turned to watch it as well, frustrated that he had ignored her gesture entirely; but, as her luck for the day would have it, the news had gone to commercial, so there was nothing interesting on the television, either. Sighing, she began gathering herself to stand, when Orion mumbled something that made her sit back.
"Could you repeat that?"
His crimson gaze looked at her side-long, then away. "Thank you."
Feeling herself break into a smile, she repositioned herself to get more comfortable on the couch. "Now, did that hurt?"
He shrugged slightly, but did not otherwise respond and she chided herself for her teasing. The waffles had at least given her an opening, she couldn't waste it on jibes about his manners. "Sorry. So, I was thinking; since I'm hiding from the largest headache of my life and you seem... well, about as bored as you usually do, maybe we could talk?"
His response came without even turning to face her. "About?"
Taking a deep breath, Nadia went for broke. "Well, there are a lot of things that I don't get about you. If we're going to be working together, shouldn't I get to know you a little better?"
Orion did face her this time, but his gaze again forced her eyes away. "I was not aware we were required to work together, Miss Lawson. I merely remain here because your assistance is helpful to me. In addition, I am still deliberating on precisely what action, if any, I should take in regards to your knowing of me."
Mustering up her courage, she raised her own gaze to squarely meet his and held it there through sheer stubbornness. "What 'action' are you thinking of taking, then, hmm?"
"My typical response to confirming that I am 'known' is to remove the individual, or party, possessing knowledge of me."
Nadia found herself blinking, her mental battle with his eyes strangely forgotten; she was pretty sure he had just said something unexpected, but in his deadpan tone it had nearly slipped past her. Giving it a moment to process, she merely echoed the word that had been denied its usual emphasis. "Remove? As in kill?"
He looked at her like she had just dribbled something on herself. "Yes, Miss Lawson, that is what I said. Are you certain you are recovered enough from your escapade last night for this discussion?"
Biting back a more argumentative retort, she simply nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. So... you're deciding whether or not to kill me. That's... unsettling. I guess keeping me nearby makes sense, then, if that's a possibility. Might there be another option?"
Orion shrugged. "If I believe that I can trust you with the information, I suppose I would not have to resort to my usual methods. This is why I am evaluating you."
The wave of relief that came with knowing there was, in fact, a second option loosened her jaw somewhat. "Trust, okay, good, I'm a trustworthy sort of person. Aren't I? I mean, you think I am, right?"
He smiled thinly. "As I said; I am deliberating."
"Oh," was about all she could manage for a moment. "Well, thanks, I guess? For not killing me straight off, I mean. Might I ask why you didn't, or does that cut in on my chances?"
He simply shrugged. "It does not, but I do not have a satisfactory answer for you."
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br /> She had to admit, she wasn't exactly sure what to make of his response. "What does that mean?"
"That I do not know, Miss Lawson. There were reasons, certainly, but not generally ones that would be enough to convince me not to carry out my usual protocol."
Nadia felt herself bristling at his vagueness, despite the good fortune she had unknowingly been granted. "So, what, it was on a whim? That's awfully high and mighty of you, just deciding whether people live or die at random."
His crimson eyes met hers more forcefully, this time, and she felt more than heard a certain bitterness in his voice as he spoke again. "Such is the way of the world, Miss Lawson. Many have lost their lives without good reason; is it wrong if, sometimes, someone retains theirs instead?"
She sighed in frustrated concession. His logic was odd, but she supposed he had a point. Her head wasn't in any state for prolonged arguments, in any case. "All right, fine. Let's change topics, then."
Orion nodded patiently. "As you wish."
Gathering her thoughts as best she could with the pangs of her headache clawing at her, she began anew. "I want to know about Black's involvement with you. There are some... inconsistencies I'd like you to address for me."
He blinked, apparently processing her request and seeking clarification. "Such as?"
"Well, like that bulletin board back in Black's room, for starters. If you're the same person... what's the point of it?"
"Bulletin board?"
It wasn't the answer she had been expecting. "Yeah, the bulletin board. Don't you remember? It was set up in Black's room, written in code so anyone who saw it wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of it. It was full of notes from you giving Black instructions, like teaming up with Burgess to deal with me to take care of a common problem, or something like that anyway."
The look he gave her spoke volumes without him ever uttering a word; he hadn't the slightest idea what she was talking about. "I know of no such system, nor of any bulletin board, Miss Lawson."
Blinking, she stumbled a little over that particular turn. "Well that's... confusing, I guess. Any ideas as to why it had been set up in Black's room, then?"
He smiled thinly. "Yes, actually. But I must explain something else first for you to understand."
"Okay?"
"As I am sure you have assumed at one point or another, you believe that my personae and I communicate with one another, yes?"
"Well... it always sort of confused me where Thomas was concerned, but yes, I'd thought you shared memories, at least."
He nodded. "I thought so. It is not the case. Each of my 'identities' has a curtain, of sorts, pulled closed around it. It is why I have no knowledge of this bulletin board and why Mr. Carmichael does not understand what happens to him each time I reclaim the primary position."
She silently filed that information away for later consideration. "So... you can't 'talk' to each other and you don't know what your other 'selves' know? That's awfully inconvenient, isn't it?"
He chuckled dryly. "It is, yes. But it was not a deliberate change. It merely came about on its own."
Nadia recognized evasive answering when she heard it. "Ah. Keeping a few secrets, then, are we? Fine, I'll stay on topic; so if that's true, what did you mean about my knowledge of you 'rousing' you, back when we had our first chat?"
"Your memory serves you well, Miss Lawson. That is the exception to the rule, one I initially did not understand myself. I have come to believe it is a survival instinct, of sorts, making it baser than a conscious thought and so therefore able to circumvent our shrouds."
Nadia nodded slowly as his logic unfolded itself. "So, if one of you catches on that you're known, it wakes you up and pulls you into the driver's seat, to deal with it?"
"Correct."
Smiling at her summation of what he had told her, she pressed on. "So, what about the bulletin board, then?"
The faint smile that had crept onto his face during their exchange faded. "Ah, yes. I believe it was planted there specifically for your finding."
This idea caused her to frown; she had been rather proud of her code-breaking at the time. She didn't much care for the notion of it having been for nothing. "But if it was fake... why?"
Orion shook his head, still looking a tad grimmer than she thought normal. "No, it was not a fake, Miss Lawson. Merely a cunning ploy. You see, not all of my personae are content to sleep away the time they are not in use. Some wish to be in control more often or at all times. One, in particular, has become rather skilled at seizing the reigns over the years."
Feeling herself struggling to keep up with the notions and information she was being given, she dearly wished that she wasn't hung-over just now. "Okay, so, you're telling me that one of your other identities wants to overthrow you?"
"In essence, yes. With the time he has invested in attempting to take control from me, he has found several methods to go about it. However, these methods do not apply to all of my various personae. It is likely that he felt the emergence of a new one that he was not yet familiar with and took measures to prepare for it."
Nadia held up a hand, letting this process. "Okay; give me a minute to figure this one out. The 'he' you're on about is Black, obviously. So he knows how to get under your skin better than most and take control; but when the new boy came around, he knew he would have to practice some new tricks in order to take control as he pleased in the same way. So he planted that bulletin board in a room that he didn't intend to use, just so his name would come up if anyone put their ear to the ground."
Orion watched her with a small amount of amusement, though he still seemed a tad... dour. "Go on."
Things were falling into place quicker now. "Of course! He knows about the instinct that tips you off when someone knows about you; he wanted Thomas and I to find the bulletin board. He wanted us to start looking you up, so that when I knew you really existed, it would pull you out and put you back in control. All because he's better at dealing with you than with Thomas. But, then..."
She trailed off as she realized the implications of this. "He used me. He used me against you, against your system. He knew I'd look you up, being a reporter. I don't believe it."
Orion nodded slowly and smiled in a manner that could almost be mistaken for comforting. "Do not blame yourself, Miss Lawson. As I said; he has had a great many years to practice."
Strangely enough, his tone did make her feel better. A little. "So... can he take control at any time?"
"No, though he has tried. He typically waits until my defences are lowered through some other means, such as anger or distraction."
"Hmm. I guess that explains why you're always so straight-faced, then, huh?"
"Yes. A necessary adaptation."
"There's one thing I still don't get. Thomas said he met Black, once. How could that have happened?"
Orion blinked at this. "I am not sure. I suppose if the barriers between them were lowered, somehow, it might have been possible for Black to appear to him. It has never happened in my experience and neither do I know how one would go about it. Offhand I would say such a thing would be impossible, but there are times when I believe that Black has a better understanding of my abilities than I do."
Nadia felt a slight shudder pass through her shoulders. "I hope you're kidding about that, mister. That man gives me the creeps."
Orion simply offered a vague smile and did not answer; this did not reassure Nadia a great deal.
In Icarus' Shadow Page 39
