We talked for another hour before parting. Sharing elfsong with Aggi had made me more aware of her emotions than I had been previously. She actually was interested in me, but rightly hesitant. Time might fix that, though, and I returned to the platform in high spirits from the food, alcohol, rejuvenation of my harmony, and the flirting. Perhaps this long year - and my bed - would not be as lonely as I expected it to be after all.
‘Things are beginning to go right for once ’ had barely floated through my thoughts when I realized that something had gone wrong while I was away. My new little home, simple as it was, was now a wreck. Furniture was overturned, drawers stood open, and something had spilled all over the rug.
I barely had time to process the mess before me when I heard voices coming from the shuttle.
“That's not even mine! . . . No, I don’t know the password! . . . I don’t know the password! . . . I wouldn't even know what to guess! This isn’t the movies! I'm not a . . . ow!”
The shriek of pain that followed spurred me into action, and I raced to the shuttle, where I found Bryce curled up in a ball on the floor, being kicked and sworn at relentlessly by an attacker.
He was large and fae looking, with dark, bluish skin and giant horns that curled around his head. I would have to rely on surprise if I wanted to get the upper hand on him. My weapons were locked away in the cargo area still, but the narrow space would work in my favor.
Avoiding the thorny bits, I grabbed the ends of his horns and yanked him backwards. He roared, but by the time he managed to get his hands behind his head, I had pulled him bodily out of the shuttle and tossed him down the ramp. He tumbled hard and skidded across the platform, swearing loudly as the rough surface scraped his flesh.
I followed, tensing for battle, keeping myself between the intruder and Bryce, who I hoped would have the sense to run.
I got a better look at him as he scrambled to his feet, and realized it was ImaMess. His previous incarnations had been odd and silly, but never as intimidating as this. I wasn’t sure what to expect from him. He was usually easy-going and cheeky, but I knew from all the notecards and landmarks he sent that he enjoyed fighting.
He didn’t seem to be armed, but the alarming thing about this world was that you could store anything inside your viewer, and he took advantage of my wariness to whip out a ridiculously large axe and strike at me in one smooth motion. I leapt backwards, barely avoiding the blade.
Why was he attacking us?
The axe was too large for him to handle, and he stumbled back a few steps as he struggled for balance. As intimidating as those horns and that axe were, they wouldn’t help him if he didn’t know how to use them, even with the added height.
He gave the axe an odd little heft, and then twirled it dramatically before approaching, swinging with renewed vigor and surprising speed. I dropped and rolled out of the way, alarmed by the change. Was he using magic? Or technology? I remembered the dance ball people had been using at Perl's performance. If there was a device that danced your body for you, there was probably one that fought for you, too.
Which meant he could do things that would otherwise be physically impossible.
And that he had limits on what he could do.
I retreated slowly, trying to determine what he was capable of. There was a scattering of tools and equipment on the platform, but nothing that would withstand that axe, or had too much iron for me to handle bare handed. I grabbed a jar of screws as I passed the work table and threw it at his feet. The glass shattered, and the screws spilled everywhere. He cursed and managed to sidestep the worst of the mess, without breaking the repeated rhythm of his swings.
I feinted forward, and he switched his movements to an upward cross, and then back to the original side to side as I retreated out of his reach. I tried again, and he did the same motion, starting from the same side, even though I had tried it when he swinging in the opposite direction.
Training taught me to disarm him, quickly. Watching Milo and Elorhyn had shown me that talking firmly but reasonably might result in him disarming himself, though that required more self confidence than I had. I felt capable of fighting for the first time in weeks, but I did not want to lose all of my newfound harmony so quickly.
“Fight me all you wish, but there is no reason you can give me that will justify you attacking Bryce,” I told him. I was leading him away from the shuttle, all too aware that if I went too far, I would have a very long fall.
“I don’t want to do this, either, it’s like kicking a puppy,” he snarled. “But I’m out of time. Where is it?”
“Put down the axe so we can talk.”
“Just tell me where it is and I’ll leave!”
A rush of air, the strange, foggy one that always preceded somebody teleporting in, brought Leo to the platform. He was facing the shuttle, but spun around quickly when he heard ImaMess’s yell.
“Wha? Oh, we gonna fight? I’m ready!” He smacked his fist into his palm and bounced lightly on his feet. “Whoa, shit!” He backed up quickly as ImaMess turned, the axe high in the air. “Ima? What the fuck, man?”
I leapt forward, grabbing for the axe handle while he was distracted. Then I kicked his feet out from under him. He yelled again but held on tight. The axe carried on with its set routine, resulting in both of us being tossed awkwardly around, too close to the platform’s edge for comfort. ImaMess struggled to regain his footing, but his eyes grew wide with panic when he realized the platform was no longer beneath his feet, and his grip grew tighter.
I used the axe’s momentum to swing him back to safety, and at that point he let go, rolling hard across the floor. I had no idea how to stop the axe, so I simply threw it when I knew its path would force it away from anyone standing.
Leo was continuing to swear and bounce, fists held up high like a bare knuckle fighter, uncertain if he should fight me or Ima. I brought my own hands up, but backed away, keeping my eyes on Ima, who was gasping and fussing with a bracer on his arm.
I hadn’t seen Mike arrive, but he made his presence known at this point, shouting “Don’t touch it! I’m armed! Stay down! I have a gun!” He was holding a small weapon, a firearm, he’d called it, one he’d shown me once but told me never to touch. It was now trained on ImaMess, who froze.
He glared balefully up at us and continued to wheeze as we all drew closer.
“Rowan, back away. Leo? Pull my viewer out of my pocket and ban his ass,” Mike ordered. “I’ll tolerate pranks, but not assault. You’re off the project.”
ImaMess vanished a few seconds later, still gasping for breath. The axe vanished, too. Mike blew out a breath and lowered his weapon cautiously. “Bryce?” he called, as he holstered it. “Where is he? Is he all right? What happened?”
Bryce’s head appeared in the shuttle door, down near the floor. “He was looking for something,” he answered in a shaky voice. “Data, maybe? And he had Perl’s missing flash drive.” He sat up and held up a tiny object. “He couldn’t get in.”
Leo snorted and handed the viewer back to Mike. “Knowing Perl, he’s lucky it didn’t blow up his computer.”
“We better warn her.”
No sooner had he said it than she appeared by the shuttle ramp, still dressed in the thin leather clothing from her show. Bryce must have sent a text to the whole group.
“What’s the emergency?” she asked. “Hey! That’s mine!” She rushed forward to grab the drive from Bryce. “You found it? Oh! My! God! I had three original songs on here! I was supposed to premiere them tonight and couldn’t!”
Bryce blinked at her. “It was just music?”
“What do you mean, ‘just?”
“You didn’t make a backup?” Leo asked, surprised. "Miss 'Back that shit up or I'll cut you' didn't make a backup?"
“I was going to, but I had to go straight from the studio to a stupid group activity event!” She glared at Mike. “I never saw it again!”
“ImaMess must have stolen it at the beach, then?” Leo mused. “That little punk!”
“What? That bastard! I’m gonna kill him!” She whipped her viewer out of her pocket, and then her laptop appeared in her hands. She sat down beside Bryce and opened it, her face twisted in fury.
“Bryce, did he hurt you?” Mike asked.
He rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “I’ll be all right.”
“He’s gonna need ice for that eye,” Perl said, without looking up from her screen.
“I got it,” Leo said, and headed for my house. “Goddamn, what a mess!” he exclaimed at the doorway, and then made his way inside still grumbling. “He even wrecked the freezer! Aw, man, even the ice cream!”
“He’s banned from the property and kicked out of the group. I recommend you all block him as well and update any security orbs. Rowan, I’ll show you how. I’m sorry about all this, he was doing good work. I don’t understand his motives. Are you hurt?” Mike looked me up and down. “Huh. You’re actually looking a lot better than you were this morning.”
“I may have found a solution.” Just in time, too.
“Good! Come on, let’s get your house cleaned up, and make sure he didn’t steal anything else.”
No comments:
Post a Comment