The people in the medical center performed a few tests on Fenris—with Jacob present to keep him on his best behavior—and confirmed that he had absorbed massive amounts of Chaos energy, likely as a result of consuming stray demons. That was the reason why he had grown so much.

Thatch cleared the wolf to accompany them almost immediately. In any other situation, Jacob imagined people would have been more than a little wary of bumping elbows with a monster, but with the odds stacked so high against them, everyone mostly seemed relieved to have another member on the roster.

The Fenris kerfuffle only delayed their departure an hour or two. Before he knew it, he found himself on the teleporter pad that would take them to Jubilon. It was a rather impressively sized piece of equipment—maybe seven or eight meters across—but between Fenris, Titaness and her grandson, more than half a dozen heroes, Thatch and his support workers, and piles of boxed-up equipment and supplies, it felt impossibly cramped.

“Do we really have to be packed in like this?” Magpie asked, positioned very awkwardly to avoid being hit by a stray elbow from Titaness whenever she moved. He was already staunching a nosebleed with a stolen handkerchief.

“I appreciate your concerns, but I’m afraid we have no choice,” came Thatch’s muffled reply through a faceful of wolf fur. “We’ve got one shot at this. Once this teleporter goes off, it’ll take three days at best to generate enough energy for another charge.”

The villain muttered something under his breath.

Jacob was pressed up against Flicker. She didn’t look nearly as inconvenienced as he felt. She was still chewing that fucking gum. It was even more annoying this close up. Jacob was terribly tempted to rip her lower jaw off to get her to stop, but he kept that a pleasant daydream. At least the Deady Bear served as a slim buffer between them, stuffed down the front of his shirt.

Tarim had convinced Thatch to see them off in person. He stood near the array of control panels at the other end of the large room, babysat by some C-Rank who was getting left behind. The man kept a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder. Evidently, they already knew he was an escape risk.

Jacob gleaned with fair confidence what the kid’s plan was. Not a particularly complex one, but he respected the audacity of it.

Good luck.

Everything was set. The all-clear was given, and the technicians at the control panels started pushing buttons and pulling levers. The dome over the teleporter pad lit up, and for a moment Jacob was taken back to Green Meadows before he blinked it away.

“Hey, this is safe, right?” Flicker asked, glancing around at the motes of light that drifted around them, steadily increasing in frequency.

“Just think of it as getting an X-ray,” Superglue replied. “A quantum X-ray.”

“That wasn’t a yes.”

The light intensified, coming from above and below, burning away all shadows. Fenris let out a low, rumbling whine. Flicker squealed and grabbed two handfuls of Jacob’s shirt, pulling him close.

Jacob was about to tell her to watch it, but just then Tarim enacted his masterstroke. While the C-Rank blinked at the light and his hand came off the boy’s shoulder to shield his eyes, Tarim fell into a dead sprint, headed straight for the teleporter. People cried out. The C-Rank went after him. He wasn’t very fast.

“Don’t do it, kid!” Jacob shouted without putting too much effort into sounding convincing.

Tarim grinned while he ran, halfway across the room.

The light was growing brighter, brighter, brighter. Jacob lost sight of the kid, couldn’t see much of anything anymore except the vague contours of the room.

There was a dark blur of movement.

Then the light flashed pure white, and the floor fell away beneath Jacob’s feet. Everyone else came away from him, floated off like puffs of smoke, and he was alone, suspended in stasis.

*****

The feeling of peaceful weightlessness ended abruptly when he was thrown out the teleporter at the other end and was immediately accosted by a jumble of moving bodies. There was a confusing, hectic minute of separating themselves out and making sure they were in one piece.

Someone ended up beneath Samson and was screaming until he rolled off. Fenris was already up and stalking around the room; tail between his legs, growling at everything. One of the support workers had somehow gotten stabbed in the thigh with a pen, and a whole load of boxes had spilled their perishable contents across the floor.

Jacob rolled off his back and stood. He found Flicker’s gum stuck in his hair. Nice. He pulled at it but just ended up getting it more stuck, so he left it to deal with later.

Scanning the room, it didn’t take him long to find the person he was looking for. Tarim was getting a stern lecture from Steelfeather, but he didn’t look all that affected by it. He snuck a glance in Jacob’s direction and winked.

Jacob had to smile at that, but he hid it behind his hand when he saw Thatch looking his way.

Once everyone got themselves reasonably sorted out, they were greeted by the director of Jubilon’s Guild HQ, Director Pell. She looked young considering her position, probably early twenties. She wore a sleek black suit, and she was chewing aggressively on a mangled toothpick.

She and Thatch shook hands.

“Sorry to hear about Charles,” Thatch said, giving her arm a reassuring clap with his free hand before they broke off.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Pell said in a raspy, tired voice. “I’ve just got to pick up the pieces he left behind.”

Jacob gathered that the director of the Jubilon HQ—which was charmingly nicknamed ‘The Resort’—had recently died, and Pell was the replacement. She didn’t seem particularly happy about the promotion.

Pell had a gang of heroes with her, and they were introduced in turn. Jacob recognized White Wolf right off the bat. The veteran S-Rank was of a comparable height to Titaness, but more sinewy and lean compared to her. His great height but comparable lack of ballooning muscle mass made him look excessively long-limbed. Despite being heavily wrinkled with age, he still looked to be in fighting shape, and certainly didn’t look like he was over a hundred years old. Jacob would have guessed closer to 70 if he didn’t know anything about the man. He wore a bushy, unkempt beard and had a ring of long white hair around his bald pate that ran past his shoulders. He looked like a Viking chieftain, the effect only somewhat ruined by his wearing a wife-beater and jeans. He went over and greeted his relatives, a lot of bear hugs and back slaps involved. The whole Trodvis clan was assembled.

Then there were some A-Ranks. Union Man, the Concordian, Bang Boom, Bulwark, and Crux. Jacob had only heard of Crux before. Her exact Blessing was unknown, but she had a reputation for being some sort of witch. She certainly looked the part, with her black hair, black dress, black hat, black makeup, and the black raven on her shoulder. It was possible that she liked the color black.

Neither Paragon nor her S-Rank bodyguard, Prismatic, were present. Jacob hadn’t really expected her to be—she was supposedly recovering from some grievous battle wound, after all—but he was still a little disappointed. Pell reported that they also had a healer on-site, but that she was needed with Paragon and could not be spared for any introductions.

Everyone from Arcadia was given a room at the Resort. Everyone except for Jacob, who was forced to stay in a lightly refurbished containment chamber, since it was the only viable room large enough to comfortably house Fenris. It had some basic amenities, and a bathroom down the hall, but Jacob didn’t like it. The smooth, all-white walls reminded him too much of the cell in that RRH facility. Fenris must have felt similarly, because he could never quite get settled in there.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Tarim was given thorough reprimands by Thatch and several heroes, all of them taking turns. Once they had that out of their system, though, it was decided that there was no choice other than to let him stay. The receiving teleporter suffered just as much strain as the sending one, meaning it couldn’t be used for several days. Even then, using it to transport one boy was an expenditure of resources no one seemed comfortable with.

Jacob spent some time unpacking and finishing to prepare the smaller adjacent containment chamber, which had been repurposed into an improvised latrine for the wolf. When got too cooped up in the sterile room, he left Fenris with the kid, since the two of them were already getting well. Tarim was climbing onto the wolf’s back when Jacob left, with Fenris patiently enduring the ordeal. It felt a little irresponsible leaving the two of them on their own, but Dad needed a break.

Jacob went to find Magpie but quickly got turned around. Not only was the Resort just as mazelike as its Arcadian counterpart, it was also in significantly worse condition, with some hallways blocked off by rubble and others without lighting, making navigation a process of vague guesswork.

Jacob was frowning in dumb confusion at a paper map he had been given when he felt a light tap on his back.

“Didn’t think I was going to get a minute alone with you.”

Jacob turned and found Flicker there, up on her tiptoes with her hands behind her back. The smile on her flawless face was so innocent that it wrapped around to being creepy.

“You can have your gum back if you want,” Jacob said and pointed to the sticky mess in his hair. He hadn’t been able to take a shower yet.

Flicker giggled. “It’s okay, I’ve got more.”

Fuck. Humanity’s doomed.

“All right, good for you, I guess. So, is this something important, or…?”

“Do you wanna fuck?” Flicker asked, still all sweetness. She rocked back on her heels and pressed her arms back further to stick out her chest, every movement of her lithe body screaming sexual availability.

“Do I want to…?”

“Fuck, yeah. There’s not a lot of people around these days, so if you wanna pair up you gotta move fast. And I’ve wondered what it would be like to do it with a zombie, so…” She puffed out her cheeks and made a face like he was being dense for not putting two and two together.

Jacob took half a step back. “I don’t think so.”

She closed the distance again, ran her delicate fingers up his chest. “Aw c’mon, don’t be like—”

He slapped her harder than he’d meant to. She ended up on the floor, clutching her reddened cheek in equal parts pain and disbelief.

“Keep your hands to yourself, bitch,” he growled. “I’m out of patience with you.”

Flicker bounced back to her feet in one smooth motion and her sweet smile returned. “All right, I’ll take a hint. I just felt bad for you, looking like Frankenstein’s uglier nephew.”

Jacob snorted. “Haven’t heard that one before. Good one.”

She spun and walked away in a slow, exaggerated saunter. Looking over her shoulder, she said: “Have it your way. Guess you’re just Hanged Man, not Hung Man. But you’ll regret it when you realize what you coulda had.”

Sure.

If my dream was to have gum on my dick, maybe I’d consider it.

*****

The whole mess with Flicker already had Jacob in a bad mood when Thatch called him into a moderately damaged briefing room that had been converted to a temporary office with a table and chairs set up on the uneven floor.

“What’s up?” Jacob asked, and sat with a heavy sigh in the chair opposite Thatch’s ‘desk’.

Thatch looked like he’d just found out his dog had cancer and his wife was cheating on him with the vet. “So, um…” He took a long drink of coffee to drag out whatever he didn’t want to say. “Here’s the thing, Jacob. I have to tell you something. And I would have told you before if I could. I wanted to, believe me, ‘cause I like you. But I couldn’t, because there were bigger things at stake. And I had to make sure we had every resource at our disposal for this battle. But I’m telling you now, because I want you to hear it from me. I don’t want you to have it sprung on you.”

Jacob chewed on his lip, not sure what to make of all that. “All right, Thatch, what are you trying to say?”

Do I have cancer?

Thatch went to take a drink, but put the cup down again. “Towman and a few others are coming up from Spitforge, I told you about that.”

“Yes you did.”

“Starman is with them. They’re expected to be here tomorrow.”

“I see.”

Surprisingly, Jacob wasn’t surprised at all.

“I’m sure you’re angry. That’s very understandable.” Thatch stood up, fiddling with his puppies-and-kittens tie, glancing about like he was getting ready to bolt for the door. “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because I thought there was a chance you wouldn’t come if you knew. Or that you’d try to sabotage the trip somehow in revenge for us not cutting ties with him.”

“You knew.”

“I did, yeah. I lied to you. But I did it for the right reasons. I did it for humanity.”

“Yeah. You did it for humanity.”

Thatch licked his lips, anxiously searched Jacob’s face. He held his coffee cup between them like a shield. “You’re taking this better than I expected.”

Jacob gave a slow nod. “What’ll happen to him after this? After Akor-Goram is dealt with?”

“I want to make this very clear, Jacob. He’s still an enemy of the Guild. What you said he did in Oslo, that's not getting swept under the rug, and it violates the terms of his conditional pardon. Once this is over, we’re taking him in, and he’s going to be prosecuted for everything he’s done.”

“By what court?”

“A Martian court, maybe. Look, I don’t know. It’ll get sorted out.”

“What’s he getting in exchange for doing this?”

“He wants… a ship. The Quickdraw. And he wants a grace period of forty-eight hours to leave the planet.”

“So when I asked about a ship, and you said you didn’t have any, that was because you’d already promised the one you had to him?”

“Pretty much.”

“Are you actually going to give it to him?”

“Yeah, Jacob. Yeah we are. The Guild has to keep its promises.”

“I see.”

“And what… what will you do?”

Jacob stood, the metal chair legs scraping against the floor. “I’m going to think.”

Thatch moved his lips in several false starts before words finally came out. “Okay. Just, please, don’t do anything rash.”

Jacob laughed bitterly. “Oh, I’d never.”

Fucking Starman.

Why has he made it his life’s mission to shit in my lunch?

Jacob left the briefing room and stalked the halls. Fists clenched. He didn’t want to see the kid, couldn’t find it in himself to explain what was going on.

Eventually he lucked his way into Magpie’s room. The villain was at his desk, rolling himself a joint. Yet another thing he’d just happened to find somewhere.

He glanced up when Jacob came in. “Ah, if it isn’t—”

“I’m sorry, but shut up,” Jacob cut in. “I need to think. Don’t talk to me for a minute.”

Magpie chuckled. “All right, man. Make yourself at home, I guess. From the sounds of you, I think you might need summa this.” He licked the paper shut and held up his completed product, one neat little marijuana cigarette.

Jacob ignored him.

Why? Why is he even here? He should’ve gotten off-world while he had the chance. With his fame and resources, I’m sure he could have found a way, even if being on the Guild’s shitlist fucked his chances of getting on an escape ship.

Is it really just to fuck with me? Again? Can a person be that vindictive? I haven’t even done anything to him, it’s just been him punching down the whole time.

Let’s just assume he wants to fuck with me, because of course he does. Why now? Why here? He said he’d be ready for me, waiting somewhere. This is… not that.

Why show up here? Why put himself in the Guild’s hands again? Clearly not out of any desire to save the world, he’s too self-serving for that.

He knows I’ll lose it when I see him. And if I attack him now, here, at this critical time, I’ll be making the Guild my enemy, too.

It has to be that. He wants to isolate me from anyone who might help me track him down.

If he really wanted me gone, there have to be so many easier ways of doing it. Does he just love all this Machiavellian shit?

It doesn’t matter. I won’t do what he wants me to do. I’ll wait until the right time.

Jacob composed himself with a long, slow breath. Magpie dragged a lungful of smoke off his joint and coughed it right back out in quick puffs.

“Any chance of sharing?” Jacob asked, holding out his hand.

“That’s my boy,” Magpie said in a hoarse voice, handing over his smoldering friend. “Just don’t get it soggy.”

“Thanks.”

Jacob took a few healthy hits off the joint. He really needed it.

Fucking Starman.