The Changeling Game, Chapter 33

33.
Child Soldiers at War

Of course, Jack thought with a mixture of dread and disgust, this just had to happen while the tide’s still out.

She stayed perfectly still, trying to decide what her best option would be. Mercs were nasty business, unpredictable and frequently cruel. Even back when she’d been a genuine innocent, they hadn’t cared. The man holding a knife to her throat might just be trying to intimidate her, or he might be the kind who could slash it without a second thought. The only thing she knew for sure about him was that he hadn’t showered or brushed his teeth in weeks.

“He’s not here,” she said, keeping her voice soft and trying not to move her throat and jaw too much. “He’s never been here.”

“Bullshit. You two are in thick with him. You’re his accomplices.” The merc’s next words were enunciated as if he was talking to a small child. “Tell me where to find him, and you can go free.”

Yeah, right.

“Toombs know you’re horning in on his bounty?” she asked. If she could manage to stall long enough, she thought, the tide would come in and she could isomorph over to Elsewhere without falling to her death. Or maybe Kyra could make a move.

If he didn’t already do something to her while I was asleep…

“Fuck Toombs,” the man growled. “He can’t call dibs on everybody.”

The only other family on the top floor had moved out two days ago, Jack thought. Even if she started screaming her head off, nobody would be able to help her.

Nobody in the building, anyway. Kyra might just be asleep in the other room, but it would be too late by the time she woke up. He’d probably cut Jack’s throat the moment she screamed, and then play out his intimidation act on Kyra instead. And both of them would end up dead, since neither of them knew the answer to his question.

If I scream out loud, anyway.

She’d thought trying to isomorph for the first time had been the biggest, craziest Hail Mary of her life. This new idea dwarfed it.

Can you hear me? Creatures? Are you there? It had never occurred to her to try to reach out to them until now.

“We can do this the easy way,” the merc said unimaginatively, “or we can do this the fun way, little girl. Fun for me, anyway.” He gave her a disgusting leer. Several of his teeth had been lost to rot and replaced with garish gold ones; two more would need replacing soon. Straddling her, he changed his posture slightly so that he could press suggestively against her. “So maybe you should talk now while I’m still feeling charitable.”

Her gag reflex couldn’t decide if it was reacting to his body odor, his breath, or the general foulness of his mind. Men like this were why she’d cut her hair off and posed as a guy.

I’m in trouble… please… warn the other larva… If you can hear me, please… help me…

“I told you, he’s not here,” Jack said. “I don’t know where he is. He didn’t tell us where he was going.”

“You think I’m stupid or something?”

Yes. “No.”

“Then try again. I’m running out of charity.”

Maybe I could do a fast isomorph, just to drop down to the next floor…

And, in all likelihood, break her back on the edge of someone’s table. None of her new “powers” were going to help her in this moment.

“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.” It was the absolute truth. If he was any good at reading people, he’d know it.

Fury passed across his features and then he smiled. It made him look twice as hideous. “You’re really down to get hurt, ain’t ya? You know where I’m gonna hurt you first?”

“I. Don’t. Know. Where. He. Is.”

“Say that again, little girl, and I swear I will fuck you with this kni—”

The living room window exploded inward.

As the merc turned to look, Jack grabbed at the blade. This thing is in Elsewhere, all the way in Elsewhere—

“The fuck?” he shouted as the knife vanished. Jack lunged upward, slamming her head against his face as hard as she could. His chin banged hard against her forehead.

Ow! Fuck…

Kyra was climbing in through the smashed window behind him, a knife in her hand.

“You fucking bitch!” he roared, cocking back a fist. His nose was starting to bleed and his lip was split. Jack grabbed her tablet off of the table and rammed it into his gut with all of her strength. Her ears were ringing for some reason, a high-pitched reeeeeeeeeeeee sound filling them just at the edge of hearing. The merc, grunting hard from the impact, grabbed the tablet out of her hand, tossing it aside and drawing back his fist again.

With a Valkyrie scream, Kyra launched herself at him.

He was a big man. Almost as big as Riddick himself. He turned, swinging his arm, and knocked Kyra to the side before she could land on him.

“You little bitches!”

Kyra tucked and rolled as she fell, coming back up a second later. She’d reversed her knife, holding it by its blade, and flung it at the merc’s head.

He ducked, but just barely. The second knife she launched left a bloody line on his cheek.

reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

The merc rose from the couch, pulling out a knife of his own. “Bring it, little girl,” he told Kyra.

Jack had no idea where Kyra was keeping her blades, unless she’d already figured out the scabbard trick before Jack could suggest it to her. She had another one in her hand. She was crouching, every line of her body tense, circling to the side.

Jack looked around, trying to think of anything in range that she could repurpose as a weapon.

The merc lunged at Kyra, who danced out of range, luring him away from Jack.

She’s buying time for me to run.

Jack crawled off of the couch, wincing as her head began to throb. She felt woozy from the head blow; there would be no running for her. That ringing in her ears was back.

reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

The merc lunged at Kyra again, almost catching her. She brought her blade down the length of his arm, ripping the sleeve and scoring his flesh, before ducking out of range again.

“I only need one of you little cunts to tell me where he is,” the man grated, face going a mottled red with rage.

Fuck. He was going in for the kill.

Another lunge, another near miss. Kyra danced to the side and whirled, aiming a kick at his thigh. He dodged and grabbed for her ankle. She retreated out of range, a sheen of sweat glistening on her skin.

Jack grabbed a glass off of the kitchen counter and flung it at the back of the merc’s head.

Her aim would have been dead on, but the son of a bitch dodged it. It smashed against the wall.

“Once I’m done with your friend here, you’ll pay for that,” he said, his voice calm again, almost conversational.

reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

He lunged at Kyra again. Too late, Jack realized it was a feint.

“No!” she heard herself scream.

As Kyra slashed out and tried to spin away, he grabbed her arm and pulled her against him, thrusting his knife into her abdomen. Kyra made a choked, gasping sound. Her knife dropped from her hand.

“That’s right, you little—”

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Suddenly Jack realized that the noise wasn’t in her head. It was real.

“Sebby, no!”

She watched in horror as Sebby, shrieking, launched himself from the ceiling, leaping at the merc.

He was going to die. The merc would smash him to the ground, kill him, murder everyone and everything she loved—

A long, thin tail she’d never seen before whipped free from Sebby’s back as he landed on the merc’s shoulder. It jabbed once, twice, three times in rapid succession at the man’s throat. The large man froze, making a strange, rattling gurgle.

The room was suddenly, deathly silent.

Kyra moved first, staggering away from the frozen merc, the knife handle sticking out from her abdomen. “Oh shit…”

Slowly the merc began to topple. Sebby leapt from his shoulder to the back of the couch, his tail whipping in agitation. Its end sparkled, a drop of amber liquid catching the light.

Venom, Jack realized as the merc crashed to the ground. Sebby stung him. That’s not a tail, that’s a stinger.

Kyra wasn’t doing much better than the fallen intruder. She looked as if she was struggling to stay conscious. She staggered toward the couch, partly collapsing against it.

Jack hurried over to her, ignoring the merc for the moment. Sebby was staring at the man, his little body tense and his stinger-tail thrashing, as if daring the merc to try to get up.

Kyra’s right hand fumbled at the knife handle where it protruded from her abdomen by her right hip.

“Don’t pull it out,” Jack told Kyra, helping her around to the front of the couch and easing her down onto it. “Don’t touch it. I’m gonna call for help.”

“Shit,” Kyra groaned. “Shit shit shit shit, God, this hurts, Jack…”

“You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

“I know. Just… that motherfucker…”

“He was looking for Riddick,” Jack told Kyra. “This is all my fault. I’m so sorry—”

“Fuck that noise, it’s not your fault assholes exist. What’re we gonna do with him?”

Jack rose. What, indeed? “Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back.”

The merc was lying on the ground, his legs awkwardly bent and splayed from his fall. His breathing was shallow, wheezing, his eyes wide and frightened. He was alive but paralyzed. Jack found herself wondering if Sebby’s stinger was for hunting, or if his species bred like tarantula wasps.

She picked up the knife Kyra had dropped and walked over to him. Showing him the blade, she knelt beside him and put it against his throat.

“Maybe this is redundant, but don’t move,” she told him.

A strangled groan escaped his lips.

Jack went through his pockets, pulling out everything he’d been carrying. He had a wallet, an electronic device she recognized, from schematics she’d seen years ago, as a highly illegal “Master Key,” and a fake badge that looked like it had come from the same damned cereal box as the one Johns had carried. Then she rolled him over, grunting with the strain. The bastard was heavy as fuck. One folded piece of paper was tucked into a back pocket. For a moment, the smell made her think he’d voided his bowels.

“Do you ever bathe?” she asked him, tempted to throw him—as if she even could—into a tub and wash the stink off.

And… there it is.

Sometimes her ideas were quite horrible. She wished, though, that she’d thought of this one back when he’d first woken her up. The tide wouldn’t be in yet, but it would come soon enough to wash his stench away forever.

If the fall doesn’t kill him first… It probably would. She’d been so busy worrying about what would happen to her if she dropped through the floor that she’d never even considered…

She rolled him onto his back again, bringing the knife against his throat once more. Just in case. Then she put her hand on his chest.

“When you get to Hell,” she told him, “you tell Chillingsworth I sent you.”

The man’s eyes widened, just a bit, in pure terror.

This piece of garbage is in Elsewhere… all the way in Elsewhere…

He fell through the floor and vanished as silently as a ghost. She shifted her vision, trying to see into Elsewhere instead of U1. Darkness spread below and around her in the other ’verse’s moonless night. She couldn’t see anything—

Kyra groaned behind her.

“Oh shit, sorry, Kyra…” She set the knife down and hurried back to her sister’s side. “I’m gonna call Takama. She’ll know who to bring. We can’t use Emergency Services or anything but she’ll know who to get…”

She was babbling. She grabbed her tablet, relieved to see that it hadn’t taken any damage from the fight, and keyed in the comm number for the Tomlin-Meziane household.

“Azul?” It was Ewan.

“Ewan? It’s Tislilel!”

“Tislilel? What—is everything all right?”

“No! We need your help! We need Takama! Dihya’s been stabbed! By one of that bitch’s mercs! We can’t go to the police or UMA, but she needs a doctor!” In her own ears, she sounded on the verge of hysterics, but she felt as if she was talking from a strange distance.

“We’re coming. Are you at your apartment?”

“Yes.”

“Are you safe there?”

“For now.” Jack looked around, suddenly imagining that another merc might leap out of the shadows. No, the man had made it clear he intended to cut Toombs out. He’d come gunning for them alone.

“We’ll be there right away.” The call disconnected.

“Score one… for the Meziane family…” Kyra said in a pained voice. Sebby was sitting on her chest, his stinger hidden once more, stroking her face with his antennae.

Jack gathered up the merc’s possessions and set them on the table, looking through them while they waited. The ID in his thick wallet named him as Frank Vedder; the one behind it bore the name Justin Cowell, and the one behind that called him Blaine Mason. All three had the same picture of his ugly mug. He had money cards in each name. A piece of paper with a string of letters and numbers on it, along with two condoms, were tucked in the otherwise-empty billfold.

What kind of sloppy dumb-ass carries multiple IDs where a cop might find them? she wondered in disgust.

The kind, she supposed, who only bathed every other month.

She transferred the wallet to Elsewhere and let it drop. For a moment, she almost did the same with his comm, until she remembered how many of the “missing and presumed dead” people from the explosion had been identified by their comms’ final locations. She set it on the table. Before sending it out of this ’verse, she’d carry it to another part of town; she didn’t want his last known location to be their apartment.

She unfolded the piece of paper she’d taken from his back pocket and gasped.

“What is it?” Kyra asked. Jack turned the paper so she could see. “Motherfucker…”

It was a printout of a photo, taken with a long-range lens, of Jack and Kyra standing in front of their building talking to a man in traditional Amazigh attire. Tomlin.

How long had mercs pursuing Riddick been in New Marrakesh?

She supposed that, after the breakout, anyone else who knew about the connection between “Jane Doe 7439” and Riddick would have started plotting possible landfalls out of system. A few who rolled the dice correctly might have managed to beat Toombs himself—even beat the Scarlet Matador itself—to Tangiers Prime.

It’s a good thing he took the picture from behind Tomlin, or his new boss would’ve been even more interested in us than ever…

She pocketed the image, along with the Master Key, and then finished examining and disposing of the man’s possessions. The badge dropped down into Elsewhere to join him. She’d let the tide do whatever it wanted with them—

The door slammed open and the Tomlin-Meziane family spilled into the apartment, Cedric and Ewan first, both with guns drawn.

“Dihya!” Takama gasped, slipping between the men and hurrying to her side.

Sebby reared up on his hind legs, rattling his pincers, and screeched a warning. His stinger whipped out. Takama stopped short.

“It’s okay, Sebby!” Jack said, trying to hush him as fast as she could. She didn’t want anyone else getting stung. “Come here. It’s okay.”

She managed to coax him to crawl up her arm and onto her shoulder, and moved away from the couch to make room for the others.

“Jack wouldn’t let me take the knife out,” Kyra said, her voice sounding a little muzzy.

“Jack,” Ewan’s eyes cut toward her as he said the name, “is very wise. We will have to remove it carefully.” He had holstered his gun and was opening the large medical field kit that Takama had carried in.

Battlefield doctors decide who lives and dies. It’s called triage… Nobody had realized that she’d heard that, heard everything that Johns and Riddick had said in their final conversation. Now she shuddered as it came back to her.

Safiyya and Lalla were setting several large, empty suitcases on the floor. “Bathroom first,” Safiyya said, handing Lalla a duffel bag. “Then bedroom.”

“What are you…?” Jack heard herself asking.

“You can’t stay here,” Safiyya told her in a no-nonsense voice. “It’s obviously not safe. This building truly is cursed. You’ll stay with us, at least until Dihya has recovered. Let some scoundrel try to come at you in our home!”

“Should I ask what happened to the man who stabbed her?” Cedric murmured so that only she could hear.

Jack met his eyes. “Please don’t.”

His expression softened and grew sad. Did he realize what she had done?

I’ve committed murder for the third time, she thought, another shudder passing through her.

“OW!” Kyra shrieked. “Fuck!”

Sebby leapt off Jack’s shoulder and scuttled toward her sister, screeching, stinger thrashing like an agitated cat’s tail.

“Sebby no! It’s okay! Don’t sting anybody!” Jack shouted, chasing after him.

“I’m okay, Sebby!” Kyra sobbed. “I’m okay, it’s okay… c’mere… it’s okay…”

The upset crustacean retracted his stinger. He jumped, instead, onto Kyra’s shoulder and began stroking her cheek with his antennae, again making a soft reeeeeeee at the very edge of Jack’s hearing.

Takama set the bloody knife that Ewan had just drawn out of Kyra on the table. Jack walked over and picked it up, looking it over carefully. She wanted to remember every detail about it in case it became important later.

Then she walked over to the spot where the merc had fallen. Standing over it, she transitioned the knife into Elsewhere and dropped it down.

“I should’ve isomorphed him straight over to Elsewhere when I woke up and he was sitting over me,” she heard herself saying. “Shouldn’t’ve given him a chance to hurt her…”

“I don’t imagine,” Cedric said next to her, “that an idea like that would just pop into your head right away.” His hand on her shoulder was light, gentle.

“It will next time.”

“I pray that you will never have to put that to the test, Tislilel. Or would you prefer to be Jack?”

Jack sighed. “Neither one’s my real name. Let’s stick with Tislilel. He gave me that name.” She turned and met Cedric’s eyes. “Gavin did.”

Cedric nodded and swallowed, his eyes acquiring a mournful gleam. “Tislilel it is.”

“Husband!” Safiyya called. “Either pack or clean! We want this tagat place emptied when it’s time to move Dihya!”

Cedric sighed and gave her a somewhat forced grin. “Don’t want even one fingerprint left behind, do we? You want any of the larger furnishings?”

“No, we got rid of most of them already. Whoever moves in next can have what’s left.” Jack wasn’t even going to try to argue with them about the move; beautiful view or not, she suddenly never wanted to see this building again. “But, uh… could you check under the bed and dresser to make sure Sebby didn’t leave anything under either one? He likes to hide and play under them.”

Sebby was still on Kyra’s shoulder, supervising Ewan’s work but no longer posturing threateningly.

“They’re asking if you’re okay…” Kyra groaned, only partly conscious.

“Who’s asking?” Takama glanced between Kyra and Jack.

“The things… on the other side… I was asleep and they were talking to me and suddenly they said ‘the other larva is in danger and needs your help…’”

“The ‘other larva?’” Takama looked confused.

“That’s what they call us,” Jack explained, once again wondering if maybe they were crazy. “The creatures… the ones that started talking to us in our dreams after the rescue. They call us larvae. All except the one that hates us and calls us filth—”

“What do I tell them?” Kyra moaned.

Jack took her hand. “Tell them I’m okay. Tell them that they helped you save me. Tell them…”

She had done it, she realized. She had called out to the frightening beings from her dreams, wide awake, and they had answered, if indirectly. They had defended her. It wasn’t some weird folie a deux she and Kyra were experiencing. It was all wonderfully, terrifyingly real.

“Tell them thank you.”