This choice: You want to take a different approach • Go Back...Chapter #39Regrets? Yeah, You've Had a Few by: Seuzz   "If the choice is up to me, sir," you say, "I'd like to get to work right away. I was never really good in school."
"Kenandandrans," Charles Brennan chuckles. "Haters of idle hands."
"I thought Nash said I'd lost the ... the Kenandandra stuff inside the book," you reply, feeling a little irritated.
"Old habits die hard," he explains. "And we can replace what you've lost. I think. I'd have to do some meditating of my own. But I imagine there are ways." He looks at you thoughtfully.
"You mean get the Kenandandran back out of the book?"
"No. Your essentia is specially charged. Nash can explain it better than I can, though he'd be very technical about. You want, you need to have two ousiarchs, Will. It's just a matter of getting you entangled with a second one. It could be Kenandandra again." He cocks his head. "You're also Sulvan," he says softly. "That's interesting. We don't have a lot of experience with Sulvans. They are hard to find. We were training one a few years ago--" He stops cold, and his eyes cloud over.
You doubt you want the answer, but you ask anyway: "What happened?"
The old man shrugs stiffly. "We're in a dangerous line of work. You're prepared to face that fact, aren't you? Not every Stellae goes into the field, but most of us have to go to dangerous places and do dangerous things."
There's no denying it: His words make your heart beat faster and harder. True, you've been in some sticky situations already, and made it out alive. But you didn't know that you were dancing on the precipice of extinction. It's a bit harder to go into it with your eyes open. But--
"That'd be part of my training, wouldn't it, sir? Learning how to face dangerous situations?"
"Part of it, though training can only take you so far." But he smiles and grips your hand. "But you've got nerve, Will, and you've already done some pretty brave things."
Some pretty stupid things, you're inclined to think, but accept his cheerful encouragement.
"But as I was saying," he continues. "We don't have a lot of experience with Sulvans. But I wonder if being Sulvan won't make it easier for you to find a second ousiarch. The Moon is a mirror, and you've already-- Well, you've already picked up something of a talent for imitating others."
You redden at the reminder of your changed physical being.
"Well, if we're finished eating," Charles says. "We should start packing. Our conjunction is breaking up, and Rick's already gone."
"Can I ask where?"
"Certainly you may ask. I might not always answer, but never be afraid of asking me anything, Will." But that's all he says, and you don't press it.
* * * * *
As you put your things into the suitcase, you ponder what might be next. It was too much to hope that you'd get paired with Rick, to go off and hunt for Frank and Joe. You're sure you could help him, since he'd have to start by looking for them in Saratoga Falls. But Charles would certainly think it too dangerous.
And if you're not going to help there, you're not sure you want to start off by having an "adventure." You don't feel prepared for anything, and you don't feel the same burning desire to chase generic "bad guys" (whoever they might be) that you feel about chasing Frank and Joe.
But do you want to be a "house boy" for Charles? It would feel like running away.
You close up the suitcase and slowly pick up Joe's mask. Since you traveled here under his face, you have to leave under it. You grimace as you put it to your face.
You don't pass out, but simply merge seamlessly with the assumed body and persona. The world seems much brighter, happier, more golden. A cheerful sense of power washes over you.
And it leaves you feeling worse, and you try to thrust Joe's personality from you. But he still sits in the back of your head, chattering inanely. Buck up, fucker, he seems to say. It'll be okay. I always land on my feet. Your mouth twists up sourly. You assume you're frowning--you feel like you're frowning--but as you turn you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. You're actually grinning. You have to force the smile from your face.
* * * * *
Kali Valentine is closing her door as you step into the hallway, and you both pause, looking at each other sidelong. But she's the first to move. She smiles as she approaches, but her eyes flick only briefly over your face. As she passes, you blurt out her name: "Kali."
She turns with the same quizzical smile. "Mr. Prescott."
"Kali, I--" You swallow and take a deep breath. "We haven't talked. But I want to say that-- I'm really, really sorry about all this. About what I've done."
"I know, Mr. Prescott. I hope you don't think I hold it against you."
"You should," you blurt out. "I mean, I wouldn't blame you if you did." You twist miserably inside your fake skin. "I don't like walking around like this. I don't like standing here and talking to you while--" You wish for an earthquake, something that would bury you in a deep hole with many tons of rubble over you. But the universe is cruel, and only leaves you gasping under her cool eye. "I know you liked Joe. I mean, I have the impression that--" Her expression grows very amused, which embarrasses both you and the Joe Durras persona. "He really liked studying with you, and thought you liked having him for a student."
Her smile fades only a little, and she looks over your shoulder. "It occurs to me, Mr. Prescott," she says, and her accent turns very Scotch. "That this incident presents a rather rare opportunity for me to tell 'Joe' exactly what I thought of him, and for him to tell me exactly what he thought of me."
You gasp, and redden, and feel deeply, deeply mortified. What they thought of each other? Is it possible that--?
Without meaning to, you grapple with the knob to your room, and slip the key card into it. Every nerve screams against inviting her in for just that kind of exchange of confidences, but somehow you can't help yourself. It must be the "Joe" inside you doing it. Because he wants to hear what she would say? Because he wants to speak? Or because he wants to put you on the spot?
Kali is still smiling as she closes the door behind her. Your arms hang limply at your sides as you gape at her. At least, you assume you're gaping at her. After what you saw earlier in the mirror, you might be grinning like a madman.
Kali tilts her head. "Yes, Joe was an excellent pupil. Not the best I've ever had, and he wasn't even as diligent as Frank--"
"Yeah, well, Frank," you exclaim before you can stop yourself. "He has to work hard."
Her lips twitch. "Ye're having a hard time of it, aren't you, Mr. Prescott, controlling Joseph's personality."
"Uh, yeah, well, he's kind of irrepressible."
"You express feelings of guilt and remorse. I'm gratified, and accept them. What does Joe say about them?"
An awful question, because the answer will sound awful. "He seems bouncy. Tells me not to worry about it." With a jerk, you turn away.
"He was always generous. Perhaps you should listen to him."
"But it's not him!" you protest. "It's just a bit of fakery. I can make him think whatever I want."
"Can you make him think badly of you?"
You pause. It's very hard to. An illusion or not, the "Joe" inside you feels like he's alive and inside his own body, which may be why the persona seems so forgiving. But then you find the key: "I don't think he can be angry about what I did to him. I think he can be angry about what I did to Frank. And what I've wound up doing to you. And to Charles." Yes, now there's a sense of anger inside you.
"Mm. Well, you don't have to worry about Charles. He can take a very large view, and large views tend to be magnanimous."
"And you?"
Her eyes sharpen as they dart to your face. "I suspend judgment, Mr. Prescott. I always do."
"You know, Kali, I don't just have Joe inside here with me. I've got-- There's another man in here. He got turned into a statue. I don't know if he's alive or dead, but-- I don't exist anymore, Kali. I'm just an illusion riding around on top of an innocent man that I've hurt."
Her expression grows grave.
"You can talk to Nash about how it works. But I don't think I can fix him or give him his life back, without destroying myself. I don't want you to think I'm selfish, or to feel sorry for me. But I did really bad things, and I want to fix them. And after I help you get Joe and Frank back--"
"Don't speak of such things, Will," she says sharply. "You are not ready to speak of them, and I'm not the one you need to speak to. But I will tell you this much." Tentatively, then gently, she puts her hand on your arm. "I will treat you kindly if you treat me kindly."
You nod fervently, and want to embrace her. But you just let her leave, and then go to Charles's room.
He lets you in, but he's on the phone. Sort of. He's actually holding it several inches from his ear, for a loud voice is booming from it. He smiles as he replies. In Russian, you realize with surprise.
Finally, he puts the phone to his chest. "If you want to get your feet wet, son, I can send you to England. Or you can come home with me."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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