Fabricated Chapter 29

[companionwolf]

They manage to finagle Awakening into working again for the humans like it did before; PC stands with them in the hotel bathroom the next evening and watches them whisper as their reflections change— Davey shorter and with a mullet, Alex feminine and long haired, Tulip masculine and buzz cut. His reflection changes too, and he is grateful. 

They look at the weapons the Spartan has brought; another small alien firearm, which is given to Alex, and a plasma sword, which is strapped to PC’s back. The Spartan itself carries a larger gun. 

He holds Espeon and Alice close on his lap as they drive (the vehicle has changed too but that matters a lot less, they’re parking farther away and walking into the campus), notes how Tulip and Alex hold their guns just as tightly, how Davey has one hand on the top of his baseball bat. The Spartan tails them in its own car, and they park in the grass beside the road about a fifteen minute walk from the campus. They group up and hurry into the mass of wooded area that surrounds it; approaching the side seems better then coming head on, after all. 

They emerge near the barn and Espeon dashes away, body low to the ground and looking all for the world like a real cat in the growing dark. The rest of them huddle inside, in one of the empty stables, bodies tense and weapons clenched in white knuckled hands. PC hovers near the door, opens it ever so often to check for Espeon, and they wait as the sun disappears and the glow of light leaves the sky. 

Hours pass. PC feels anxiety building in his stomach, despite Alice’s reassurances. The humans amuse themselves (and the Spartan) with quietly said word games and riddles and stories, but as the night goes on, the facade of ease lessens and fear creeps into their voices; they speak less, stare with wide eyes more, and Alice does not try to reassure anymore. She is tense too.

Then, it must be just past midnight- PC’s vision pings, Eylion lighting up Espeon’s form and the form of the young human that follows her; the human is holding something in her arms, against her chest. 

PC ushers both into the barn quickly, quickly into the stable, ducking down amongst the hay. The girl looks around at the other humans, wrings her hands as she passes the single gun she has brought to PC. “You are very brave,” she says.

“Or maybe really stupid,” says Davey. 

“Not as brave as you,” says Alice. She stares at the doorstop cat, and then shakes her head. PC thanks her for the gun.

“They will not notice until it is too late,” she says.  A pause. “This one told me what you want,” she adds, pointing at Espeon as the latter climbs into Davey’s shoulder. Her gaze lifts, seems to go through the walls. “You are going into the Great Revered Emissary’s room?”

A chorus of nodding. She grimaces. “You cannot get in through the front door,” she says. 

“It’s Psionically locked, right?” PC says, remembering. She nods at him.

“Yes, but there is another way.” She gets to her feet, and the others rise too. PC awkwardly fumbles with the gun as he stands, stills for a moment and lets memories of not real never was guide his hands into the proper places. 

The group follows Sam across the campus into the Welcome Center, creeping low against the walls and holding their breath every so often to listen listen listen. The girl leads them back down into the basement, where most of the people are sleeping.

PC brings the group to a stop, takes the lock of the nearest cell in his hand. “What about them?” he asks.

“I will stay behind,” says Sam. “I will free them. You must go. There is a door.”

PC returns both hands to the gun, moves forward. It looks like solid wall, but then a ping in his head, and a slight depression is highlighted— he pushes against it with his shoulder, and the wall panel slides open, revealing a tunnel. 

“Secret tunnel,” mumbles Tulip as she steps in time behind him. The others file in after, and Sam slides the panel shut when they’ve gotten a few paces down the tunnel, plunging them into darkness. 

“This is no time for Avatar references,” says Alice, half muffled by the pocket.

Espeon scoffs as she ignites a glow about her gem, bathing them all in soft purple light. “It’s always time for Avatar references,” she says, and jumps down to be obnoxiously about PC’s feet.

“What is Avatar?” asks the Spartan. “You cannot be talking about the Elders’ project; it is too early here for that.”

Espeon and Tulip eagerly begin to explain ATLA to the Spartan in dramatic whispers; Davey attempts to shush them, which makes them whisper more; PC shakes his head with a laugh. 

The tunnel goes on, taking turns but never branching into more then one pathway. Every so often they stop, quiet, and listen listen listen. It must be about 1:30 am when they reach the end of tunnel, and PC gingerly reaches up, finds a small folding ladder attached to the top of the low ceiling-trapdoor. He pulls it down, and steps up, pushing the door open just enough for Espeon to poke her head through.

“Where do we end up?” he asks her. 

“Looks like a closet,” she says back, and wiggles through the small space. She is gone for a few heartbeats, and then returns. “The bedroom connected is empty,” she says. “Looks like this Emissary ain’t asleep yet.”

“Can you sense it? It’d have a really big Psionic footprint,” PC says.

Espeon hums. “I sense something,” she says, “but not in this building. Well, there is something but it feels dormant.”

“Must be the Psi Gate,” he says, and lifts the trap door open fully, gun tucked under his arm. The others clamber out behind him, weapons tense in their hands, but as PC passes through the bedroom (simple, a bed, a dresser, a painting of a Elder in the same vein as the statues he remembers but doesn’t), there is no confrontation. They join Espeon outside the room, and the humans pause to take in the Psi Gate.

“Alright,” says Tulip, “we’re here. Now what?”

“We wait for the Emissary to come back,” says PC in a low voice. “I think we probably have to kill them. Then we deal with the rest of them. I’m hoping taking the head of them out first makes that second part a lot easier, though.”

“Where should we wait? There’s not much to hide behind out here,” Davey says, looking back and forth across the otherwise empty room. 

“Back behind this door,” PC says, stepping back inside of the bed. The others hurry back in, Espeon the last, and PC shuts the door not all the way to where it’s closed, but looks the part. He looks down at the gun in his hands, somewhat reminiscent of the one from not reality never was, and hopes he can use it well. 

He looks at Davey, who curls and unfurls his fingers about his baseball bat handle; at Alex, who studies their borrowed firearm intensely; at Tulip, fingers tight around her firearm’s handle; at the Spartan, stock still and weapon up at chest level; at Espeon, who’s gem glow is dimmer now, who’s ears twitch every so often. Alice goes and hides back inside the trapdoor, excusing herself from having to watch the oncoming battle. “I’ll go check on Sam,” she says, but he knows she means “I cannot bear to watch you fight. I cannot bear to see you lose.”

But they won’t lose. 

(Right? They won’t lose?)

When the Emissary stalks in, the moon high in the sky behind them briefly as they open and close the front door, the humans look at each other as the footsteps grow closer. 

“Now?” whispers Tulip.

“Or never,” answers PC, kicking the door open; his gunfire melds with the psionic beams and plasma bolts that volley out after.  The Emissary screams as bullets connect, as their form is staggered back a few paces by the assault, and the fight is on.