Chapter 1: In Need Of A Place To Stay
Antoinette slid his wrist and arm so as to turn his wheelchair. “So you’re acquainted? Yes, Kit works for me.”
He still didn’t know how the man had warded off the Shem... how he’d come from nowhere; how he safeguarded the e-Links. Kit still wielded proudly the bow that had shot it.
“Haven’t been getting into more trouble have you?” Kit smirked, implying on when they had first met.
“Those vials, what are they? How do they work? What are they for?”
“You may ask him on your way,” Antoinette spoke, ushering them on their way. Carls held his daughter atop his shoulders (as she was still weak) and followed Kit down and out of the e-Company’s lairs. Kit, the watcher. What did that all mean? He remembered his first encounter with the drugs-- the illusionate that had misled him. The tripper. Yes, it had been a tripper. And he’d completely fallen for it. He’d taken the drug. He’d felt its liquid coarse through him, fill him, tunnel him. But not the same as when he’d fought the Nightingale...
Kit hadn’t said a thing. The man stood tall and fluid in steps. His leather pattered boots made no sound as they slid across the tiles of the grand mall. That’s right, I’m trapped in this place. But was there really no hope? He still ached from the thoughts of his helpless pleas-- of when he had needed rescue the most. But you kept me here, he whispered. He would have left his daughter and wife; he would have deserted every bit of dignity he had in fear and disbelief. What had happened here to these people? To him?
He felt a soft pressure against his neck as Joan fell asleep. Did she know? He couldn’t imagine how a child would react to such terror. He knew her body couldn’t handle it. It hadn’t-- Friedelock was proof of that. But he cut the thought off. No need to meditate on hating a man. He was done with Friedelock and with Antoinette. He prayed this Sherlin would give him an escape from it all. Or in the least, a place to stay.
I need to gather myself, he said silently. I am human after all. I haven’t slept or ate in a long time... I need the rest, and so does little Joan...
He couldn’t help smiling to the memories of his past joys. With her in his arms, he sensed hope for once. He could almost see Elairah walking beside him holding his hand. Her smooth touch would calm any storm of incompetence or pain. Her heart was a spring of comfort; her breath a breeze in a desert plain; her hair a fragrance of serenity. He missed her. He hurt for her. “Elairah...” he let slip out.
“You seem mesmerized,” Kit cut in. “You know, I’d never expect a man of your likes to still be move’n. I hope you haven’t been stealing, have you? This place may have gone to pot but I ain’t gonna let the business just rot. Even in times of trouble, stealing is stealing.”
“What are those e-Links?” Carls asked.
“You’ve used them, you know.”
“Why in the world would they be on the market if they’re so dangerous?”
He could hear Kit laugh. “It is not my place to judge their unstable tendencies. I am only their watcher. Believe it or not, my job used to be much lighter.”
“So what happened?”
Kit had hoped to avoid conversation, but he knew Carls’ interest had already been sparked as though a child’s imagination. The creases of his eyes seemed set from his steady smile. So comfortable. So mysterious. So simple, yet so dangerous.
“Just know this: ‘Where there is an attraction of groups, a business is sure to rise.’ T.J. Lawrence himself said that. Sure enough, this place was quite the attraction. But I do not care to bore myself with already past circumstances. The only thing that matters now is that the business be kept secure from tricks, lies, and thieves-- I’ll get ’em.”
“The business, what is it exactly? Why are they so bizarre? Friedelock Industries, e-Company, Mx3, Brainware... why haven’t I heard of them before? What are they?”
“Simply put: you don’t know anything. That is why Antoinette is handing you over to Sherlin. But even then, if you want solid answers, you gotta find ’em yourself. Speaking of which, here we are...”
Carls hadn’t noticed the time past nor did he recognize the scene before them. They stood at a junction of three halls and in front of them were two men ravaged through the overturned crates of an abandoned supply store.
Carls couldn’t believe his eyes. In fact, at first he didn’t. “...Dyrdrik?”
The man looked up, his comrade noticing them as well, surprised at Carls’ remark “Dyrdrik?” he inquired confusingly. “I thought you were--”
“Yes,” Dyrdrik budded the man off, “that was my name. Is my name, but in hiding. It’s been a long time, who might you be, Stranger?”
“I am Carls, Carls Locke. You knew Norwick, didn’t you?”
The man’s face turned stern. “Indeed, but don’t think that gives you any right to burst into my past life. I escaped it, or so I had thought. Until they stole my wife.”
“What happened to her?”
“She... wandered off. I tried to find her, to stop her, but before I could they had taken her away. And now she is gone-- I no longer recognize her.”
“Why did she wander?”
“It was her mind. She was... ill. And it got the better of her.”
“Of a lot of us,” his comrade included.
“I lost sight of her, and in that brief moment, I fear to have lost her altogether.” The men suddenly were at unease. Something was coming. Kit was no longer there either. Carls hadn’t noticed him leave, but now it was just him and a man he would have never thought to be alive.
“Come,” Dyrdrik spoke, “it is not safe here.”
“We can’t just take him,” his comrade, Jailer, added.
“Have you not noticed the child with him? I shall not desert such a man!”
The sound came again, this time Carls could make it out. A Fallen One. “Please, I need a place to rest.”
“Who brought you here?”
“I was sent by Antoinette.”
They both looked surprised, but discarded any further questions they had. “Follow us and we will talk where it is safer.”
