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edupunkn00b · 28 days

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Meus ex Machina, Chapter 11: Hesper

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

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Logan meets Hesper and he's only left with more questions. Everything has a beginning, though, and not even Abracadabra was what it is now.

“Kiddos are all in bed,” Patton sighed as he settled into the seat adjacent to Luc, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Janus opened his eyes in time to catch Luc’s faux scowl at Patton’s tousle.

“Gorgeous as always, mon cher,” he whispered, smoothing Luc’s auburn curls back into place. “Simply gorgeous.”

With a blush that rivaled his hair, Luc smiled but quickly sobered and blew on his tea. “You said you had news?”

Setting aside the little flash he caught from Patton, Janus nodded and straightened in his seat. He took Luc’s free hand as he shifted away from the comfortable home he’d made nestled against his side. “I do,” he began, working to keep the worst of his worries shielded from the other two.

And from the children’s drowsing minds.

Luc and Patton’s expressions told him he needed more practice. “What is it, Jan?” Patton asked, reaching for his other hand as Luc gripped his brother’s forearm. Together, they made a little triangle as the night sky darkened outside the big bay window. “Is it bad?”

“It’s… an opportunity,” Janus licked dry lips and painted on something like a smile. His scars pulled at one side of his face, hampering the intended encouraging effect. “I was contacted by the new mentalists department at Abracadabra.”

“The start-up? How—“

Janus’ eyes flicked down to his own wrist and his great-grandfather’s antique Casio, an anachronism even in that time.

“The ‘Foundation…’” Luc sucked his teeth and he closed his eyes, likely hiding his battle for control. After a moment, he calmed and met Janus’ eyes with a crooked smile. “What did those capos want from you?”

Janus sighed, a low near-growl. “They offered me a job.”

“Me, too,” Patton whispered, rubbing little circles against Luc’s arm. “This morning.”

“You both said ‘no,’ right?” Luc’s eyes were wide as he looked between them. His smile faded at Janus’ silence. “Love, tell me you said ‘no.’”

“I…” Janus slid closer to each of them. Patton only tightened his grip on Janus’ hand. “I believe this is an opportunity we can’t discount. We—“

“We need to stay as far from them as we fucking can!” Luc’s fingers tingled against his skin and he moved up to grip Janus’ sleeve. Safer that way. But he didn’t concede. “You think just because they’ve stopped hunting Powereds we’re suddenly safe?”

“No. I think we’re safer together. I think we’re safer integrated into society rather than maintaining this us vs. them mentality. Let us be a part of the shared solution. We have so much to contribute, we—“

“Oh, open a fucking history book!” Luc closed his eyes, orange flickering beneath his lashes. When he opened then again, his tone was softer. Just barely. “Love, they’ve just moved on to co-option. Sure, now they want to work with the ‘right kind’ of Powerds like you and Pat and—“

“Luc,” Janus warned, stroking his arm. An itch at the base of his spine told him they wouldn’t be alone for long.

But Luc either couldn’t—wouldn’t?—hear him. He released Janus’ arm and had begun counting on his fingers. “Step two is when they tell us it’s only the ‘risky’ Powerds they need to tamp down on. ‘Four legs good, two legs better,’ right?”

“Luc!” Janus said more forcefully, casting a quick glance at Patton.

Both of the elder Powerd’s hands now gripped Luc’s arm and he tugged gently, keeping him seated. “Lukie, maybe Jan’s right. Maybe we—“

“What, we should heel at the corporation’s side? Strap on our own muzzles so we can duck step together when they figure out their final solution is cull the herd of the dangerous Powerds like—“

“Like Re?” Low and quiet from the hallway, Virgil’s voice managed to cut through Luc’s rant.

Luc deflated, eyes glowing as he swallowed his next argument. “Yeah, Virge. Like Re, and maybe Ro, too. Anyone they think is dangerous and uncontrolled.” He frowned at Janus. “Or uncontrollable.”

“Dangerous?” Virgil asked, sliding into the room and sitting cross-legged on the coffee table between them. He jerked his chin at the pictures of Luc and Patton’s old orphanage. “Like you?”

“Now, Kiddo,” Patton began. “That fire wasn’t his—“

Luc cut him off with a sad smile and a little shoulder squeeze before turning to meet the teenager’s eyes. “Yeah, Virge, dangerous like me, too.”

Virgil’s memory of his truncated hospital stay flooded Janus’ mind, nurses sprawled on the floor, blood pooling from eyes and ears, soaking through their face masks.

“Yeah, I know it wasn’t his fault, Pops.” Virgil’s eyes were teary behind his floppy bangs as he turned to face Janus, hands shoved in his pockets. “What do these capos want you to do?”

“Tin Man, let’s go!” V called over his shoulder from the top of the stairs. Orange lights still glowed from the ceiling but at least the alarm had stopped.

Patton and Silvertongue had already run down to prep the transport and map their route. A low whine from the engines filtered up from below, a little shimmer to the air as dust kicked up from the lower landing pad.

Behind him, The Prince huffed, loudly, as Logan struggled to get situated in his suit.

Logan focused on breathing, ignoring the pounding behind his eyes and the ache in his arm. He briefly regretted not sleeping while he could, a regret that dissolved when he closed his eyes and The Muse’s shaky smile filled his vision.

Palm sweaty, his hand skid along the edge of the mech’s chest cavity but he caught himself, fingers wedged between the collar and chest plate. He pulled and pushed against the mech’s waist with his stronger stump, muscles trembling.

“Sorry,” he grunted. “Almost got—“

“Oh, come on!” The Prince snapped, physically hauling Logan higher and depositing him inside the mech. Logan swallowed back a curse and glared at the Powered.

“Don’t ever do that to me again!” he growled.

The Prince rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the stairs. “Or what? You’ll fuck things up?” He glanced down at the mech’s heavy durasteel boots. “‘Sorry,’” he muttered, anything but. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes.”

Heat flooded Logan’s face and neck, hurt and rage warring just under his skin. “You son of a—“

“Princey! Mac! Now!” V’s beckoned from the stairwell, glaring at each of them in turn. “Or we’ll leave you both behind.”

The transport door clanged shut and they shot up into the sky and over the churning Atlantic. Logan didn’t know how much of his altercation with The Prince everyone else had heard, but save for a few quiet mutters between The Prince and Patton up at the controls, the team was silent. He felt the brush of Silvertongue’s questioning thoughts, a warm request, no, an invitation to share. Logan simply shook his head and concentrated on checking the mech’s systems.

Satisfied he was powered up and ready, he watched the screens at the front of the transport, following as they raced over greenish grey waters.

Before long, Patton banked right, aiming for a landing platform somewhere off the coast. Which coast, Logan had no idea. Before them stretched a sprawling city, bright lights casting a haze in the low clouds. Silver towers sparkled, rising up out of the jagged reefs of the drowned coastal city that had come before it.

“I can’t tell if he’s still there.” Patton broke the silence, pointing to a screen where flickering orange lights blipped at seemingly random spots.

“He’s here,” Silvertongue’s eyes were closed but his voice was clear. “Prince? Can you cover our approach?”

“Happily.” The Prince tapped a different screen and it resolved into a view of the landing platform. His eyes half-shut as he watched the dozen or so deck crew move between the ships. Without warning, they ducked low and drew up neon-striped hoods. As though fleeing from a sudden squall, they all sprinted toward the big building at the center of the platform.

All but one.

The last hold out shielded their eyes from some unseen attack and peered up at the sky. They staggered to the closest ship, a tool in their hand.

“Take her down quiet as you can, Popstar,” V murmured and moved closer to Logan, showing him a tablet. “Any idea what he’s doing, Mac?”

The image on V’s tablet followed their approach, zoomed in as far as it would go. V had set a split screen to infrared. The figure—Hesper?—wielded a gun-like tool, glowing orange under infrared, bright white sparking from the tip. This close, Logan could make out a welder’s face plate under his hood.

“Soldering something onto the hull?” Hesper moved a few feet, leaving behind a rapidly cooling palm-sized circle. He repeated his actions then jumped to the next ship in line. “A tracker, maybe?”

“Not an explosive?” V asked, frowning.

Logan watched the screen and shook his head. “It’s too cold. And he’s using quick cool-solder. Safer for microprocessors but not as strong.” He shrugged. “Explosive casings are heavier, thicker. He’d need to use standard epoxy or… magnets, maybe?”

After a long moment, V nodded. He slipped the tablet into his vest and opened his mouth as if to say more, but the transport shuddered under their feet. “Everyone ready?” Patton asked, hand hovering over a door panel.

The Prince nodded, eyes now closed as he moved to the doors, joining V and Silvertongue.

Logan lowered his own face shield and helmet. “Ready.”

Patton slapped the controls and the big door opened with a bang. Hesper didn’t even look up as they circled him, just pulled his hood lower over his head and shuddered.

Before Logan could ask what The Prince was doing to him, Silvertongue sent a single word, -“Now!”-

The Prince’s eyes shot open and Hesper spun around, the movement knocking back his hood to reveal form-fitting headgear.

He tapped the helmet, shaking his head. “Guess this wasn’t worth the price I paid for it if you could still get into my head so easily, dear Prince.” He tucked the soldering gun under his arm and then, finger by finger, peeled off his safety gloves. He left them where they fell and flexed his bared hands. “Glad to see you all came out to play. Well…”

Looking up at Logan, Hesper seemed to stare right through his face plate. “We know how it is. Too bad I have to take a rain check tonight.” He flipped on his solder gun and ran straight for Logan.

On his heels, Patton grabbed at Hesper’s jacket. He wormed out of it then dodged V’s attack. Overcompensating, Hesper slid and landed on his back, centimeters from the mech’s left leg.

Without thinking, Logan stepped up and down, foot pressed—slightly—on Hesper’s chest.

Patton hissed behind him but grew still, arms loose and ready at his sides. Immediate danger passed, V inspected the devices Hesper had fastened to the ship’s hull. He scanned each with the tablet’s sensors before prying off the closest and crushing it under his boot. “Basic trackers,” he said, nodding to Logan, and they all turned to Silvertongue.

“What is all this, Hesper?” he asked, eyes hooded. He didn’t look happy at what Logan had done, frowning in his direction. But he didn’t stop him, either, so Logan just waited, foot locked on Hesper’s chest.

“My, my, my… My dearest Tongue of Silver,” Hesper purred. Head tilted, he managed to look down at Silvertongue even from his sprawled position on the cracked peri-ment platform. “You’ve brought along an extra army of one this time.” He thunked his knuckles against the mech’s ankle servos. “All for me?”

A not-quite shadow flashed over Janus’ face, quick, nearly too quick for Logan to catch. Even with Silvertongue’s back to him, The Prince must’ve felt it, whatever it was, because he stepped closer, eyes boring into Hesper’s obscured face.

“Release him, Machina,” Janus instructed, gaze focused on Hesper. “He’s clean.”

Hesper leapt to his feet with an acrobat’s grace the moment Logan lifted the mech’s foot. “Why, thank you.” He bowed his head with a flourish and Logan watched his mech’s reflection shift and warp on Hesper’s shiny helmet.

With no way of knowing where Hesper was looking, Logan felt like it was everywhere at once.

For all his theatrics, Hesper now behaved as though they were nothing but a minor inconvenience, impolite visitors who crashed an open house. He hummed under his breath, easily picked up by his mic, and made a show of brushing off his synthcloth tactical pants and straightening an old vest that looked a lot like V’s. Sighing heavily, he produced a pristine white cloth and bent over to polish away a smudge from his boots.

Janus watched him with half-lidded eyes, hands flexing at his sides. “What are you up to now, Hesper?” He gestured around them, voice sharp. Acidic. “Why here?”

“And what makes you think I didn’t trigger your alarms so I could have a little company, hm?” He shrugged and carefully folded his handkerchief before secreting it away in a breast pocket. “You know… just like Re used to?”

“Wha—”

Before Logan could finish his blurted question, The Prince stomped forward, hands splayed in front of him, a glowing haze forming between his fingers. “Take my brother’s name from your mouth, fiend,” he growled, drawing close to Hesper. “Or I’ll rip it out with your tongue!”

But as The Prince moved, the air… flickered near his right foot. The mirage tugged at Logan’s mind the same way the faulty Pickerbot had back at the DC, the first time, before he’d found the flaw in its circuitry.

Remembering V’s concern about explosives, Logan flipped on his HUD infrared. Heat poured from the cracked peri-ment, far more heat than could be explained away by the underlying HVAC piping. The ground glowed in blinding purples and white, spiking well past 85° centigrade.

“Prince, look out!” he shouted and pushed his servos to a run.

Patton’s call to Logan cut off and he copied him instead, half-carrying, half-dragging V and Silvertongue away in the opposite direction.

The Prince swore as Logan slammed into him and knocked them both to the ground. Arms locked around him, he pulled The Prince with him into a roll. He stopped, propped onto the mech’s elbows, erecting a cage of durasteel limbs and torso around the Powered just as the floor exploded behind them.

Precisely where The Prince had stood a moment before.

“Are you—”

“I’m good, Tin Man. Let me up,” he muttered, shimmying his bulky shoulders out from Logan’s mech suit shield. -”Thanks,”- he said in Logan’s mind as he stood.

“Anytime,” Logan said aloud and followed him to Silvertongue’s side. Patton crouched a few feet behind him, inspecting V’s hand.

“Tell me!” Silvertongue was demanding, eyes molten gold. “Tell me how you did that without—”

“Without you poking around in here…” Hesper’s laugh was crusted in ice as he waggled his fingers around his head. “Ma cheri! L’amour de ma—”

“Tell me!” Janus’ shout reverberated through Logan’s skull. Even The Prince took a step backwards, head bowed and one hand pressed to his temple. Patton slid closer, nodding quietly to V and Logan watched them all, waiting for any sort of hint of what he had planned.

Hesper just laughed again. “There was no guilt to sense, my dear Silvertongue,” He shrugged. “Not from me at least.” Hesper gestured, almost bored, at the jagged, steaming hole in the landing pad, then at The Prince. “It was his anger, his rage that triggered the charge. I wasn’t sure it would work, but our dear Prince of Dreams always did have quite the temper.”

He fully faced The Prince then. “Ever since you were a little boy.”

Patton reached out and just rested one hand on The Prince’s shoulder. Given the recordings Logan had seen of Papa Bear wrestling an activated Muse into control, he had no doubt a light touch was all he needed to keep The Prince steady.

“Enough with the games, Hesper,” V said from Silvertongue’s other side. “No-one believes you dragged us out here in the middle of the night for a parlor trick.”

Hesper shrugged again, backing away toward the edge of the landing platform. “Worried I’m going to make it a habit of interrupting your beauty sleep?”

He stood on the ledge, one foot hovering behind him. “Besides,” he directed his attention to Logan again. “I know you weren’t all asleep.”

Face flushed beneath his mask, Logan’s fingers flexed against the controls but the suit remained still. Then Hesper stepped off the platform and onto a waiting airskiff.

“Ta ta, for now!” he laughed, voice amplified to carry over the roar of thrusters as he flew off into the smoggy night air.

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