A small caravan wended its way through the streets of New Rydynn. Roan, Bliss and Ali were headed back to The Compound, Roan with a loaded duffel bag full of odds and ends they had spent the day trading for. No one noticed the phantom shadow trailing them.
It was Mik, fortunately; Mik with something he had never experienced before - leisure time. With his generals and Colonel Brrace back in town, and the total pullout of the Church from Sabattann, he occasionally had time to ... play. He had to practice his tracking once in awhile, even if his chosen subjects were ... not precisely ... stealthy. At least not tonight. And he wasn't even sure it was technically tracking, since he knew where they were headed. But, for the most part, he kept out of sight. Call it self-indulgence.
After exhausting the subjects of hair color and wedding dinners, Bliss climbed up a pile of rubble to look around a bit. Spotting some gangers wandering where they weren't supposed to be, she mused, aloud, "Hmmm ... now why are they in this part of town? Not their turf...."
"You worry too much" Roan said, sticking out her tongue and giggling.
"I grow concerned when people aren't where they're supposed to be," She jumped down from the pile of rubble. "Concern is not worry, merely expressing that something is out of place."
"Well, if they keep showing up where they're not supposed to be, someone will shoot them sooner or later, then you won't have to be concerned!" Roan said, with eternal optimism.
"True, but let's hope not *now*, because I can live without being caught in a crossfire just at the moment." She ushered the women along just a little faster now, even though they weren't far now from the compound gates.
Mik, rounding a building, caught sight of the gangers about the same time Bliss did. He moved a bit closer to the women and let out a low sound like a phlupp with distemper, to let Bliss know he was there.
They passed the gate, the going easier on the smooth-packed dirt of the driveway. Roan noticed the goofy grin on Bliss' face, the one she got whenever Mik was near. She turned to roll her eyes at Ali, but the blue-haired girl was daydreaming too, with that same goofy look on her face. Roan sighed, and gave in; wondering what Ric was doing at the moment.
Ric was in the front room, across from the huge, curving staircase. Dozing. Pretending to doze. Didn't really matter ... he just wasn't moving. Who cared anyway? His brakes were locked, hands in his lap, eyes closed. He heard the front door open; he recognized Roan's steps.
As Roan made her way up the front steps, she was thinking that there were just WAY too many of them. She bounced up the last two, however, and inside the door, emptying the duffel bag out onto the floor before she looked around. When she did, she saw Ric; off in a corner with his eyes scrunched shut, keeping the world at arms length. She knew what that meant, but it was okay - she was in a good enough mood for two. She moved over beside him. Softly, she said "hey, you."
His eyes opened a little, steely orbs peeking through slits. "Have fun?"
"Yes! Look..." She bounded back over to the pile, dragging over next to Ric. She didn't expect him to care about the more junk for the wedding, but she held up each piece anyway, detailing the trade and possible uses. Some pieces ended up back on the floor, some in his lap.
He did care, of course. He listened, studying each piece, a faint smile ghosting his lips. Eventually his eyes were open, and he realized he was watching her, instead. When she finished, she sat back and smiled up at him. "C'mere," he said, not moving anything but his lips.
She swept all of the stuff off of his lap and took its place. As their arms wrapped around each other, she whispered into his ear. "You ok?"
"No." He breathed deep, his face in her hair, surround him with her.
"You can talk if you want. You never spoil my day, love."
Quietly, he answered, "Talking's like thinking. I do both way to much." Which wasn't entirely true ... he never talked, but Roan didn't say anything. "I don't feel ... real ... today. That's all."
"Oh." She smiled; she knew that feeling. She slid her hand into his shirt. "You feel pretty good to me..."
Bliss had turned around after coming through the gates, seeing that Mik had stopped outside of them, grinning. "Hi there, beautiful."
"Hello husband-mine. Not coming all the way?"
"I will if you will." He stood his ground, resisting. Call it a personal restraint test. He still felt that soaring sense of freedom. As Bliss smiled and crooked her finger, beckoning, he swept through the gates and her up onto his arms.
She gave him a kiss meant to set his boots on fire, but it backfired. "I think my bullets are melting�"
He held her close, breathing in the scent of her hair, surrounding himself with her. "I have the night off, tonight."
"You don't know how happy that makes me."
"No; only how happy it makes me."
That earned him a kiss on the cheek. As they turned toward the house and started walking, she said, "So ... have you ever slid down the banister at Roan's?"
"Slide down the banister? Is that something people do at Roan's?"
"No, it's something I do, and have since this place was Caine's." She opened the door and stepped back, letting him see the front hall and the stairs ... along with the banister.
He felt an odd sense of possessive jealousy when she mentioned Caine, but he didn't let it show. "Good. After the baby comes, you can show me how and I'll give it a try."
"It's gonna be some wait. Months and months..." drawing the words out dramatically.
He could feel the second dimension of his four-dimensional connection to his brother, she shiver that raced along his spine. He grinned at the scattered parcels and bits on the floor, and glanced back at Bliss. "Months and months? Plenty of time..." Time for him to prepare, as if it were a mission.
"You just do it, Mik." Though Ric spoke softly, his voice carried to where Mik and Bliss stood.
Mik looked into Ric's eyes, and then studied his brother's face. The pleasure of being in his presence made a smile tug at the corners of his mouth.
He met his brother's gaze. The spark wasn't there in his eyes, though. Not today. He closed his eyes, distracted when Roan nuzzled his hair. He didn't get so distracted, however, that he forgot what they were talking about. "Gonna slide down the banister, Mik?"
He had been distracted by his OWN woman. "What ... now?"
"Yeah, now. You chicken?"
Ok, so suddenly they weren't so grown up anymore. "Chicken? No, of course not. I just..." He looked up at the banister. "It's a bit high."
"Keeeerrrist, Mik. You've jumped off higher." ~I want to feel it, Mik. Please.~
The plea struck him. He wasn't scared, really ... well, maybe a little ... but this was at last something he could do that might cheer Ric up. ~You got it.~ He eyed the banister skeptically. "This thing sound, Roan?"
Bliss answered. "It's solid, Mik. I slide down it all the time, so do most of the kids that live here."
Hell, she just had to say that. He almost laughed. "If the kids can, I can." He mounted the stairs. At the top, he got a strange rush that made his fingertips and down to his toes tingle and feel vibrantly alive. It was strange because it felt exactly like the feeling he got in battle, or while waiting to see if Ric fell off a building.
Ric closed his eyes and rested his head on Roan's shoulder. He wouldn't watch, not when he would get the chance to feel it all. He slipped into his brother's skull. For a moment, he had legs.
"Any tips?" Mik slid his hand along the rail, as if testing the friction.
"Just hop on, slide, and dismount before you smash into the knob thingie at the bottom." Bliss pointed at it. "I usually do it side-saddle. Easier to dismount."
It had taken some goading to get him up there, but he was totally in the spirit now. "Easier? Where's the fun in that?" He straddled the rail, held on for a second to get his balance, opened his mind to Ric, and ... let go. Although he couldn't hear Ric's gasp in his ears, he heard it in his head. Mik rode the rail like he was sitting in the seat of Bliss' cycle ... that knob was coming up fast, so he brought his arms in from where they had been balancing himself and caught the knob in both hands. There was a wrenching tug, he felt the muscles in his arms strain as the momentum turned the forward fly into a full body arch. He flipped over the end post, somehow managing to land on his feet, heart pounding in his chest to the point where he thought it would come through his chest. He let out a whoop of amazement that he hadn't smashed his 'nads or his head.
~Good job, bro. Thanks.~ With some reluctance, Ric withdrew completely from Mik and slammed the walls back down. The "flight" was so cool, he wanted to cry. Maybe he was ... hard to tell with his face buried in Roan's hair. She murmured to him, maybe forming words, maybe not, trying to comfort.
Mik spun around to face them all, a wide, goofy smile on his face. The mental "afterglow" he wanted to share with Ric felt hollow, though ... because suddenly Ric wasn't there. Mik gasped, as Ric had at the launch, but for a different reason. His arms went around Bliss, breathing hard, trying to find the words to explain how it was. Perhaps he didn't need to - she had slide down it too, more than once. His body felt the rush, still loaded with it, but without Ric it felt weirdly wrong now. Later he'd realize what was wrong with Ric, but for now, he was confused. Bliss started to whisper in his ear, though ... her words were a sudden shock interrupting his thoughts.
Ric quietly wheeled himself and his future wife away from the pair. He didn't want to bring anyone down, but he didn't want to let go of Roan, either. He knew it was rude, but Ric scared himself tonight. Badly.
Mik looked up into Bliss' eyes. "A ... son?" The shock was not a bad one, not at all. A thrill.
"So the tests say..." She had known all day, but sharing it with Mik made the news new again. Turning her head, she frowned slightly as she saw Ric & Roan leaving. She had wanted to share her news with them, too.
Mik held Bliss tight, trying not to feel cheated out of sharing news, knowing there was something fragile about Ric's state of mind right now. It didn't stop him from feeling ... torn. "It's ok, it's ... ok. I ... have you told the boys yet that they're getting a brother?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "I want to go home."
Bliss whispered back. "Then let's go home. He has Roan; he doesn't need us."
He shook his head, but couldn't argue it now ... all his eloquence had left him. He gave her a tight squeeze, and then they headed outside, where they started discussing names for their child.
====
And just where had little Ali gotten herself off to? Her daydreams had taken her out back of the "big house", where the sound of repairs could be heard. She blushed, already knowing who was wielding the hammer.
The kid known as Kicks around the compound stopped hammering and stood back. One more shutter reattached. Joy. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt, looking down at the six other shutters that still needed to go up. He hung the hammer back in the loop of his pants and slung the shirt over his shoulder, catching his breath.
Ali came around the corner, then. She stopped and watched as he hoisted another shutter up onto his shoulder. He didn't see her, almost walked right by her. But he didn't. "Hi, Blue."
She smiled. "Hey." She was biting on her lip to keep a goofy grin from appearing.
Kicks picked out the straightest nails from the pile and stuck a few in his teeth, talking and smiling at Ali around them. Ali, trying not to giggle or look goofy, answered in near monosyllables. Trying to hold the shutter in place, grasp the hammer, and line up nails, he looked at Ali. "Wanna get that hammer?" As she handed it to him, he had her hold the shutter in place while he struck the nails, her body sandwiched between him and the wall. Her head was down slightly, to hide her furious blushing.
Finishing up, he asked if she dyed her hair, a question she was used to. "No, it's been like this for as long as I remember."
He slid his grass-green eyes over her. "I like it."
"Thanks." She was blushing again, but fortunately he was looking up at the sky, at the rain clouds. They gathered up the tools and walked off together.
====
Baby name decided, Mik and Bliss were still headed home, Mik still feeling a bit off-balance; encounter with Ric having left tiny, odd mental holes in his soul. The saw the shuffling street person coming toward them, but that was nothing unusual.
He was just another shapeless semi-human figure in a city full of them, shuffling through the maze of debris on the far side of the street. One eye peeped out from under the red scarf wrapped around his head, spotting the pair. Bent in half, he shuffled across the street angling to intercept their path. His smell preceded him, a bit like week-old rotten cat mixed with new vomit. Only not as pleasant.
Triggered by the beggar's increased proximity, Mik moved to put himself between him and Bliss, to her surprise. "Oh, I am SO glad I haven't eaten�" she said as the breeze carried the man's stench their way.
The � man � approached, blue eye already turned downed in supplication, the sores around his face lividly pulsing. When he was about 10 feet away from the couple, one scrawny appendage slipped out from under his rags. It was a hand, once; there were at least three fingers left. Well, two and a half, really. The voice was weak and pitiable. "Food? Pretty ones, give a poor creature food?" The hand turned upward, palm showing the half-healed scabs of numerous radiation sores. "Pretty ones hurt not, give food to the poor one?"
From behind Mik, Bliss said, "I've got a bag of cookies and some jerky, want me to toss it?" That way, he wouldn't need to get too close.
Mik's hand slipped inside his jacket, to the grip of his gun. When the man got as close as 5 feet, he said, "Close enough!"
"Food?" The wheedling voice suddenly lowered. "And all the rest of yer goods, my pretties." The man straightened, and he opened his rags. In response to Mik's order, he said "Aye, yer a tough cracker me bucko, but ye'd better not be drawing that gat of yers." He let out a gurgling laugh, saying, "Or I'll introduce ye to my pet here, who's the sensitive type." As his clothes opened, his other hand was revealed, holding a large egg-shaped object, too regular to be a rock. The blue eye pinpointed Mik. "Ease that gat out there now, me spry one, and don't give old Gasher no surprises � I've already popped the cap on this here grenado," he gave a sharp, gurgling laugh, "for it's only politeness to doff one's cap on meeting strangers, eh?" His face grew hard. "The gat. On the ground."
Mik was suddenly damned glad he's given Ric their father's pistol. He smiled, and his empty hand came up while the concealed hand moved slowly. "So I'm guessing you don't want the jerky?" Holding the pistol with two fingers, he lowered into a crouch to set the gun on the ground.
Bliss said, "You know, if you shoot him, I bet we can run fast enough to catch cover."
The wet gurgle sounded again. "Oh, I wouldn't be doing that, me pretty. I've been busy with this here pet o' mine, she ain't got but a no-second fuse anymore. Truth be, I don't know if she won't go off in me hand one of these days. But you can see, given me condition, I don't much care." Indeed, it looked as if he were in the final stages of leprosy, when things get really unpleasant. "I can go anytime � so, the rest of yer goods, me pretties�" As Mik and Bliss started pulling things out of their pockets, Gasher leered at Bliss. "Ah, yer a bit o' sweetmeat ye are. If my dingle hadn't already rotted off, I'd be thinkin' about having some sport with ye."
A pale brow lifted. "You wouldn't survive the attempt."
He laughed, sounding like his lungs were half-full of fluid. "Look at me �ye think I care how much longer I live?" He nodded his head. "Now put the rest of what ye got in yer pockets there on top of the pile. Or need I ask ye to take off yer clothes to prove it to me?" He was leering again. He spoke to Mik, "Them gloves, too, bucko."
Mik's brows raised as he unsnapped the gloves "Surely these aren't for you?"
Gasher grinned his yellow, gap-toothed grin, "It's all marketable goods, as ye well know. I may not live much longer, but at least I can go in style."
Mik tugged at the gloves slowly, working out angles in his head. The thing that worried him most was the grenade. He'd give the shirt off his back to make sure nothing happened to Bliss, but the most dangerous opponent is the one with nothing to lose. "As long as you go�"
"Right then�" He said as Mik and Bliss finished. "The pair of ye, back up three steps there, no more, no less." As they moved back, Gasher moved forward, keeping a constant distance. When he got close enough to the pile, a satchel materialized from the depths of his rags. He managed to crouch and scoop stuff into the bag with one hand, keeping his other hand on the grenade and his eye on the couple, and still make lewd remarks concerning both Bliss and Mik, as if he'd done this a hundred times before. After less than a minute, he pulled the laces on the satchel tight and straightened. "Ah well. Gasher thanks ye both for your charity, and should we meet again, I hope ye will show the same kindness. But I'm a man who knows when his welcome is ended, so I'll be going now." He slung the satchel over his shoulder and touched the grenade to his lips with a grin. He made one comment too many about what he might do with such a man as Mik and such a woman as Bliss.
The threats and jeering got under Mik's skin to the point that Mik struck out. Imikk, the 'Nykk god of speed, smiled on him; and in one blurred motion he shot out in a foreward jump kick, aiming for the grenade and the man's head behind. Gasher's free hand came up, but he was too slow to block the kick. The man's head snapped back as the grenade went flying in a tight arc. Time stopped as all eyes followed it's progress.
Before it started coming back down, Mik's knife had slipped from the wrist sheath and into his hand. He put his full force into a blow aimed at the man's heart. Bliss was back-pedaling fast, in the opposite direction of the grenade, the pistol she had held back in her hand. Gasher watched the grenade, still unexploded, fall; not aware of the knife, or maybe not caring. The grenade fell, bounced, bounced again � Gasher reached across himself for his satchel, taking Mik's knife between the bones in his arm. The knife went through the rotting tissue like molded cheese, but the bones were - barely - solid enough to hold. He flipped his arm back up toward Mik's head, eyes wide open, less in pain than in feral anger.
Mik pulled his knife and stepped back, seeing the grenade start rolling back, avoiding Gasher's attempt to bite him. The bum spun quickly to his feet, still holding the satchel, and scooped up the grenade, tossing it back in Bliss and Mik's direction with one smooth motion. With a harsh laugh, he was offf, skipping from side to side in a random shuffle, avoiding the gunfire in his wake.
"Mik!" Bliss yelled, seeing the grenade rolling back toward them.
"I see it � go, gogogo�" He scrambled up and ran after her; even if it was a dud, he didn't prefer to take a chance. They ran for cover, Bliss shouting instructions to the guards that always followed her.
With a final hooting laugh, Gasher slips sideways into an alley more than 30 feet away. As he disappears from sight, a loud crash of falling debris and a cloud of dust pour from the now-blocked alleyway. He's a man of foresight, Gahser is �
Full of self-recriminations though everyone was all right, Mik put the knife back and tried his best to wipe the man's blood off his hands. He wanted to go home and wash � several times. As Bliss detailed the things that would happen to Gasher when her people caught up with him, Mik slid his clean arm around her, and they started off once again.
