Cassie sipped miserably at her Cazador Cola, buried under the pile of her pack. Schmendrick was getting a little too big to fit in that group, and supervised everyone’s position from the sidelines.
“If I remembered anything I thought it was a dream. I’m on another planet, weird stuff happens, and…I have a lot of nightmares. I was a sleepwalker when I was little. And…the campers, there were people who would do this now and then …”
She was drowning in self-loathing, self-hatred. Hugging her alien friends. She wasn’t babbling, exactly. But it was important to her that we heard.
“Schmendrick,” I said in Huntspeak. “Is this true? Is it?”
“She thinks it is,” came the subsonic whisper. “She’s not lying to us, and she’s not under his control right now. I would be able tell, now that I know what it smells like.”
“I saw it on Harrigan’s island,” I told her. Then I said it in ingles, for Cassie. “I saw Sean, Harrigan’s son, sneaking around at night when I got there. He looked like you did. Gray.”
Cassie looked thoughtful “You did? I…remember seeing it…” Her expression was interesting. She was relaxing. Perhaps she was accepting the idea that she hadn’t imagined the whole thing. “It was sometimes a girl, sometimes Sean. Gray mud skin. There were jokes about it, the Spa People, we called them.”
Unless I misread the situation, she’d soon be furious. I was, myself, angry on her behalf, and I wasn’t even the victim here. So let’s see what that gets us.
“Ever see more than one at a time?”
She shook her head. “This was almost…a rumor. I saw a girl once, but there were a lot of stories.”
“And washing it off, that ends it?”
“Yeah. I’d wake up with wet hair. Lately when it happened I’d just wake up in the ocean. I thought I was going nuts. That there was something wrong with the way he’d built me.” The prickles of anger in her, rising. “And I didn’t tell you.”
“It’s okay,” I said.
“I didn’t tell you!” She started crying again. She wasn’t talking to me, not just me. She hugged her pack. “I’m so sorry, I … I was ashamed or crazy or … “
The Hunt began yelling that they loved her, that it was okay, in all the languages they knew. It was, frankly, ridiculous. And sad. And horrible. But it was also okay, just like they were telling her.
“Guys, I don’t think any of this means we can’t trust Cassie. In fact, this is an opportunity. I don’t think Harrigan knows we’re onto him.”
Schmendrick aimed her snout at me. Cassie aimed hers at me too, just less snout by about eighty percent.
“Think about it,” I said. “Aside from us meeting you on the beach and giving you the Cola here, we didn’t interrupt what you were doing. What he was doing, that is. He was done, and the connection was cut, his mission was over for the evening. I’m betting he doesn’t know we’ve figured it out.”
And he’d have called us to taunt, wouldn’t he? And something horrible would have happened to Cassie, right in front of us, because why not? What good would she have been to him? I said none of this.
But Cassie’s eyes were wide. “Holy crap I’m a double agent!” And she grinned, fierce, vindictive.
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I’m sorry, I laughed. Viciousness was good to see on her. And the pack picked up on it, yapping and barking. A group war cry.
I raised a hand for restraint. “Think about it first, Cassie. It’s risky in ways we don’t know. Only if you want to.”
“He’s got Armand,” she said. It was enough.
Later, I stood on the beach, watching the sun come up. The Radio popped from one of its favorite rocks nearby. We watched the Aegis up there, surrounded by several glowing Gardeners, fussing over it.
“Radio, I need to talk to that thing.”
“Certainly. And now, Sunrise Serenade by the Glenn Miller Orchestra.” A mellow, stately song began playing, one I recognized now. Glenn Miller and his guys had a very distinct sound. They were better than Human, or so I’d thought for some time, but apparently they weren’t anyone from around here after all. Live and learn.
“The Steward speaks.” It was the voice the Radio had adapted for the Aegis. Florid, theatrical, annoying.
“You’re full of holes. Want repairs?”
“I seek thy ministrations, that I might once more fulfill my sacred purpose with full vigor.”
“State your purpose formally.”
“Though I bear teeth of iron and lightning when roused to wrath, my truest purpose lies in the tender art of healing.”
“You very casually ended the life of one of my guys the day we met. Do you remember?”
“'Twas not with joy but solemn duty that I summoned forth steel and shadow to preserve mine existence. For what healer can mend wounds if first they themselves are unmade?”
“Excuses. You killed indiscriminately. I’m your new steward, and I’m unimpressed with your conduct. You suck.”
No response. Well, the Radio finished Sunrise Serenade. “And now, Cab Calloway and ‘I’ll Be Glad When You’re Dead.’”
Because it wouldn’t be hard, would it? Not one bit. I looked up at the floating stone building capped with its trees, surrounded by floating people who counted on me. “You’re forbidden from harming anyone here. Any of the Feast of Fools. You’re one of us. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
I thought a while. An odd new song came on about a monkey and a vulture. “I’m going to talk to the Makers. I think I can get them to give you another shot. Straighten up and fly right.”
The Andrews Sisters said it, right when I did. “Straighten up and fly right, Cool down, Papa, don't you blow your top…”
The Aegis spoke. “What is forgiveness if not the sweetest medicine?”
“Yeah yeah. What do you know about germ theory? Are you familiar with the idea of a virus?”
“'Tis a profound alchemy - that which delivers suffering may also bear salvation.”
Was it hooked into my thoughts, the way the Radio seemed to be? Because that was pretty big leap it was taking. A helpful infection. It’s where I was going.
I did the trick with my eyes. I was at the center of a web, which in turn was connected to other centers of other webs. My guys, flying around up there, running around in the jungle, building cool stuff in the ocean. The brightest thread, linked to someone out there over the horizon, fighting evil and being sexy, I assumed.
A thread from me to the Observatory. To the Radio as well; were they separate? I didn’t ask; the Radio was so gabby I figured if it wanted me to know it would have told me in song. Or commercials.
And a thread from me to the Aegis up there, hooked into it, hooked into me.
Same team.
“We can fix you, if the Makers agree to it. But you’ll have to park down where they can reach. And stop blocking the sun; you’re making Gary a nervous wreck.”
“It will be done. Cautiously.”
“I appreciate that.” I watched as the huge structure began slowly, slowly rotating, sinking down to sea level, moving, eventually, to a spot just off the shore. Those trailing roots buckled, folded, splashed into the sea as it descended. Gardeners serenely continued tending, buzzing along with their Propeller Boxes.
The Aegis silently, carefully touched down in the shallow sea. Blocking my surfing spot, naturally. Eh. Too busy lately anyway.
This had gone better than I’d thought. Let’s dive right in. “Tell me what you know about souls.”