Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy

[12]

Beatrice looked over at me as though my brain were worth picking for insight or wisdom. It was a pile of mush and confusion still at the cusp of processing an access tunnel concealed somewhere in a realm beneath, above, or beyond the normal world. Bea didn’t make much of it, but I was still unsettled by how few stars were listed on the walls of the junction point we visited and retreated from.

Rationally, if such a word applied to anything around this place, I could deduce that the limited number represented a census of the local stellar group. But my brain refused to let go of sticky, entangled threads of concern. My respite was a vague, relatively silly notion that Beatrice actually, oddly, reminded me of Batman but cute. Dark, moody, and reserved but also caring, adorable, and strikingly cheerful. She made me feel better through all the panic of Connor disappearing.

I didn’t forget that for even a moment. How could I? Connor was everything, and him or her not being here sent the world tumbling without a center. But I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go through a black door that suddenly appeared. Describing it to myself sounded like one of those tropes you screamed at the characters about, along with agreeing to have faith that the bad guy was reformed, that something terrible could be reversed, and that a spooky noise in the attic was just an old house and maybe some small animals. But what other options did we have?

I joined her in front of the door with this strange girl from another place on the other side. Since Connor disappeared, I felt compelled to follow the path laid out for me, like one of those much-ballyhooed people movers that used to be a featured attraction at Disney parks. I ran from our dorm, crying and begging, seeking out the girl we smacked with the broom, even though I had no idea if she was the one responsible. Kuni and Simon left at some point in the early morning. It was just me.

Running into Beatrice brought some relief. Someone comforting to talk to, even though they were just as lost as me. We each had secrets to share about our interactions with the one who set us on our path. And seeking the truth got us exactly what we asked for. Now, here we were at what felt like the ultimate truth. I really hoped that a Colonel Sanders dude with a lot of television screens wasn’t on the other side.

What I saw definitely wasn’t what I was expecting.

The space beyond looked more like a sitting room, with several comfortable chairs, rows of old books, multiple astrolabes, maps, and twinkling lights. It made me think of a room where Leonardo da Vinci may have kept all his secrets. But the strangest thing was an item at the center of the room: an impossibly detailed globe of the earth. It wasn’t just finely detailed or expertly crafted. The smooth sphere appeared practically holographic, with volumetric clouds, richly rendered landscapes, and shifting patterns across its surface. I had no idea what to make of it. Beatrice seemed especially puzzled, keeping her attention on the anachronistic artifact compared to everything else in the space.

I looked around behind me to check on the other girl, but she seemed to have vanished. Why was everyone vanishing? Would Beatrice be next? Myself? Before I could transmit my alarm to Beatrice, footsteps sounded in front of us with a weighty creak.

Out of nowhere appeared a man dressed all in black. His hair was disheveled and thick, vaguely greasy, slimy, and unnatural. The suit he wore fit him awkwardly, as though he had thrown on anything in an adult size to cover his body. His eyes were as dark as coals, with just the faintest traces of white sclera to furnish some illusion of humanity. He smiled like ice cracks.

“You made it. Shame you didn’t bring the other one. You’ll have to pass along the message then.”

I had no idea what to say, but Beatrice pressed him, “Who are you? What are you doing? What message?”

He laid out his palms like a used car salesman, trying to give the impression they had nothing to hide. “So many names, for so many reasons. None of them would matter to either of you. Call me whatever feels most comfortable. Fair enough?”

“Okay, bitch face,” I had to raise my eyebrows hearing that come out of Beatrice‘s mouth. The Man in Black narrowed his eyes and tightened his jaw but didn’t give any other reaction. He soon continued.

“Good job dealing with the chaotic element. I would’ve hated for our meeting to be interrupted. So much turbulence and chaos abound. You may not expect it, but I much prefer to keep things well organized and in their proper places.”

My heart raced with so many scorching uncertainties. I had to ask, “Where is Connor Campbell? What happened to him?”

Mr. Bitch Face set his hands on his hips and responded, “Correction, it’s ‘her’ at the moment… and she’s nearby. She happened to get some stray souls on her. I was just cleaning her up.“

I desperately wanted to see her. BF raised his hands. He apparently had other things to discuss first. I had to restrain my legs from rushing at him.

Beatrice pushed the matter of souls, bringing up an interaction that she apparently had with this individual a few hours before. Some mention of ‘angels’.

BF cracked that wretched smile. “There are beings beyond the world you can perceive. Forged in a cycle that goes round and round. Life, death, rebirth, consumption, expulsion, harvest, planting, destruction, creation, onward and onward. Humans are so very interesting, infused with potential, there’s practically an arms race to delve deep into what’s possible for you and your kind. True immortality and absolute power over reality. The larger flashlight you hold, not the pale copy, pulls so many souls out of the cycle and employs them to change the world. Man and woman. Inanimate and human. It can do so much more. And you’re terrified to even wield the beginner’s imitation.”

This was pretty freaking heavy. My fears sparked with the unknowns of what this inhuman creature was doing to the girl I loved. It claimed to have cleaned her up, but what did that represent? Would she be the same person on the other side? Beatrice clenched her jaw and gripped the flashlights in her hands.

This creature raised a single finger and explained, “You have these things now, so all the responsibility falls to you. You can do nothing with that, or you can make sure everyone knows about them. But consider the consequences. All those upset, transformed people. Maybe you turn little Rosalie back into a buff, man-loving quarterback. But… I can confirm there’s no guarantee using a different color light on anyone will put them back to the way they were when they began. With enough adjustment, they might get close enough. Then you have to consider the impact on reality. Just turning a blue light on the University sign will make it into an all-boys school. So you have to go one person at a time for thousands of people with thousands of problems. Quite a complication to glue all the fragments of fine china back together after it’s been thrown everywhere. And then there’s the matter of the souls. Every fix you make, they are screaming their entire existence, blasted through a laser with little pieces of their essence used to change the world. How do you feel about that…several thousand times over?”

Beatrice looked angry, bitter, and terrified. While I didn’t totally understand, a feeling saturated the air that practically made me want to throw up. And all I really wanted was to hold Connor and kiss her gently. I begged the creature to return her, even though I knew it was hopeless.

“…Trish? What the hell? What happened to breakfast? This place looks like some sort of steampunk role playing room…”

It was her. Exactly as I left her. Fretfully, I restrained myself at first, cautious about some sort of cruel trick or illusion played on me for some incomprehensible reason. But her voice and the frantic uncertainty in her features told me this had to be her. We ravenously embraced, barely permitting the other to breathe with all the tit-squashing. Somehow, I even found a laugh inside me.

Hastily, I dragged her back towards the door and away from the entity that stole her. A mountain of things awaited explanation and I knew she was so desperately confused, but she watched my eyes and smiled gently as I warmly kissed her again.

Beatrice continued, “Thank you, for returning Connor. So, what do you want me to do about these flashlights?”

Twisting his lip again, BF said, “I don’t care. You can do whatever the hell you want with them. I just told you the consequences of keeping them. And that’s really all I need to say. You should probably get home now. You have what you came for. If all goes well, you’ll never see me again… although… I can present you with an alternative.”

That felt like a devil’s effort to tempt and taunt. Connor had the same impression. She practically shook her head at Beatrice, but Bea raised her head and encouraged the creature to share this alternative. The bastard had it planned, and he unfurled his proposal.

“Give them to me. I can dispose of them safely. I can put them back into the cycle. If you want some sort of excuse, then I can shape your memory to that accommodation. No guilt, for any of you. They just got lost along the way. And those are your options. Keep them and retain the responsibility. Or give the responsibility to me.” He spread out his hands, as though balancing each side.

I hated both ideas, and it was clear from her scowl and tension that Beatrice had similar feelings. At least, if we kept the flashlights, then we could help people who had terrible feelings about what Beverly Marsh had done. But the weight of that responsibility and trying to work through it seemed troubling. Never mind the added complications of spirits and souls, which might be suffering all the while. I had a hunch that he wasn’t lying about that part.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

It wasn’t on me but, at the same time, I desperately wished that I could provide exactly the right feedback that Beatrice needed at this critical moment. Break free of this railroading of myself or whatever else was pushing me to hesitate. Tell her exactly what she needed to hear.

Come on!

—-

BEATRICE

I wanted to punch Bitch Face nearly as much as I wanted to punch the benefactor. Not that it would help matters, even though I’d definitely feel better. This jerk really liked hearing himself talk, as much as my parents.

And he stuck me with his situation. Either accept the responsibility of the entire mess that the benefactor… that bitch… had laid out before me, or pass it off to the creepy bastard with the demon mood. One way, I would likely be burning and torturing souls. The other, they still might suffer, because of him and because of me. Two terrible choices, and I had to make one. I remembered a mention from Zach once about the Kobayashi Maru.

He hugged me right then. I appreciated it and the seconds it bought me. It looked like he wanted to tell me something, maybe give me some advice, but it was for the best that he didn’t say anything. This was my call. One or the other. Or…

I paused. Yeah. That was it…

With my smile, Bitch Face actually leaned back in concern. I took a deep breath, squeezed my grip on the flashlights, and then I raised them over my head. Wide-eyed terror flashed through him as I slammed both flashlights as hard as my softly-reduced muscles would go…right into the floor.

They exploded into pieces with waves of twisting, energized light. Released from captivity, the spreading glow seemed more like schools of swimming sunbeams wrapped in the luminance of the noonday sky. The broken shells that once contained the flashlight apparatus rolled and crumpled across the floor. It occurred to me, for a split second after, that we no longer had a way to open the passage out of here. I felt bad about possibly stranding Connor and Zach with that thing.

The dancing lights spread like the rising sun but also dipped down, crashing like a wave tumbling from its apex and flowing over me. Unlike the last time, when I caught such a presence in the face, this brought only warm joy. Like a pure hug enveloping my soul in relief and peace.

Bitch Face was pissed the fuck off. I could tell. It was almost as if he could also hear every time I mentally used that unflattering name for him. Moments later, Trisha reached into her travel bag. She retrieved the switch and held it. With her lips pressed tightly together, she gave a look in Connor’s direction. It didn’t take long for Connor to comprehend what she had in mind. Wafting colors clearly showed that this item had souls as well. Before Bitch Face could do anything, they worked together to slam it against the ground and spread its vibrant light. That liberated presence merged with the one orbiting and interacting with me.

Once the lights settled down, the bastard was still steaming. The space around us shifted, shivering and shaking. The creature howled and commanded us, with a sweep of his dark arm, “Get out of my sight!”

Vertigo passed through me, as though being dropped by an invisible roller coaster. When we landed, or at least the closest approximation to it, we were all sprawled across the tan, dense carpet of an unfamiliar house. Anthony leaned over a nearby bed with her guitar girl daughter straining to sit up. Zach and Connor both appeared uninjured to my right. I propped myself up and surveyed the room.

It was a normal-looking bedroom with some furniture on the sides, a wraparound series of drapes for the windows, and a bathroom halfway down the hallway. How far away from campus was this? Considering the others were here, I hoped it wasn’t too bad. Everyone but the guitar girl suddenly got to their feet.

From over by the bathroom area, Nadia appeared. She swiftly checked on us but lingered by Anthony’s friend. This didn’t exactly encourage warm sentiments from Anthony, but she let her inspect the girl.

“She’s quite unstable. I suggested this when we spoke, but her formation appears accidental. The change of everyone that occurred at the University rippled out from blasting something like a sign and changing its identity. Because of your positioning and distance from the college, by chance, the energy that was supposed to transform you initially passed through her. This is not supposed to happen, and I haven’t found any other comparable instances of it in the vicinity.“

Anthony hovered over the guitar girl. Her eyes were tense and hard for Nadia but soft and gentle for her daughter. She responded, “Parsley is special. I loved her before, and maybe I put part of my soul into her. It doesn’t matter. How do I fix her?” She gave a hawkish glare laser that was focused on Nadia.

Massaging her forehead, Nadia answered, “It’s not about fixing. It’s about how much time she has left before she ceases to exist.” Anthony listened but also shook his head with every last word.

As I stood there, a compulsion, like gravity, drew me towards the guitar girl, toward Parsley. I never asked if the name was a riff on paisley, but the notion wandered through my thoughts. I sat by her side, and this strange presence, churning through me like a bright tempest, flowed forth. Light washed over the both of us without the feeling of control or erasure. Not a light to change and destroy, but a light to share and imbue. The entire area around the bed felt warm.

When the strange flow finally receded, Parsley hopped up on the cushion and smiled at her mom. Frantically, she asked her and Nadia so many questions. Though Parsley perked up, she still had a subdued skin color, and it clearly wasn’t from makeup. Nadia‘s prognosis appeared more encouraging yet still reserved. She still shook her head.

“Share what time you can with her…and treasure it.” Nadia bowed her head while Anthony helped her girl up.

Not long after that, Nadia held out her hands, but without the same sense that that bitch face wielded his. They were empty, but it seemed like she wished they weren’t. Anthony watched Nadia as she stood over by the window. She gave us encouraging words and lamented that she couldn’t provide more, noting that those she worked for advised circumspection and limited interaction. Which meant she might already be in a lot of trouble for what she had done. I appreciated what she was able to do. But I found it curious that she hadn’t rigorously questioned us. She was investigating but also apparently knew so much.

Her departure was followed by our discovery by Anthony’s relatives, a pair of aunts who were both nursing headaches. Vague explanations crossed in the air about why breakfast was skipped, along with other uncertainties. The three of us were offered a hearty meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Zach dropped to one knee.

_____

TRISHA

On the one hand, I was absolutely terrified to lose the switch. On the other, it was clear that whatever unholy method of soul torture existed with the flashlight had also been transmitted to our little object. I’d seen the strange things that churned out of it. The chance of being Zach at will when my boobs got too heavy and whatever lay ahead weighed too much made me hesitate. But having Connor by my side gave me confidence. We broke it up together and released those captive souls.

Seeing BF so upset made it thoroughly worth it. Take that, demon jerk!

Being sprawled out on the floor, although comforted by a pretty thick carpet beneath me, was no big deal. Yeah, the terrain before me appeared to be the peaks for keeps. Broke the magic. But being beside Connor made it all worth it. I would go to the ends of the earth and the back doors of reality to make sure she was never lost. I quietly whispered words of love for Connor as Beatrice managed so many things with the kind of forthright determination I could only dream of. I didn’t know the situation of Celestina and Parsley, but I desperately focused hope for the both of them. We had all been through so much in less than a day. We deserved the chance to breathe and to share so many precious moments with one another. Fortunately, Beatrice shared even more.

I had no idea what she did, but it was beautiful. The strange investigative visitor girl said a lot of things I didn’t understand before she left. But what I did understand was Connor‘s quiet expression of love. Anthony’s aunts stopped by, and that felt like inspiration enough for my effort at acting without thinking a notion to death. I gleefully proposed to my lady love.

It was absolutely pointless considering the fact I had already accepted her proposal, and she had done a delightful proposal even better. But I wanted everyone to see it and I wanted to share in that redoubled commitment. We squeezed each other close and kissed with bubbly, hopeful energy.

We’d need witnesses, and Beatrice and Anthony readily agreed to the roles. The slowly recovering Parsley adamantly wanted to be a part of this as well, even though Anthony explained that this was a “legal thing” and it would probably be complicated if she was the witness. The young girl didn’t quite understand, though she accepted this explanation. Not that it dissuaded her from desperately wanting to be there. After breakfast, Anthony’s aunts said that they would drive us to the civic center. That made it even more real, although no less delightful to contemplate.

The world was a mess, full of dark things and unknown corners, fears and complications, and so many things I didn’t know how to process. But an ever larger multitude of hope and possibilities made my soul sing.