FRANKLIN — CATSKILLS — NEW YORK STATE, USA
9:34 AM
In all the worlds she'd known, this one felt the most alien to Stella. She grappled with the realization that she was in the real world above and not in some obscure location in Ordiz or Compiz. This time, she came prepared, with a taser gun concealed in the pocket of her harem pants.
She noticed a group of kids, likely eight or ten years old, huddled in the schoolyard. Their voices grew louder, cheering on two of them in a heated fight. The skirmish intensified swiftly. Tiny fists collided with unnerving force, as onlookers observed with anxious enthusiasm. Abruptly, one child brandished a pencil, stabbing toward another, drawing a drop of blood from the girl's arm. This act elicited a cacophony of screams, laughter, and outcries. An adult, likely a teacher, intervened promptly.
“Here, we bleed to learn. Our bodies, our darkness, our consequences,” a voice resonated, nearing Stella from behind.
June Jin-Nowak, nearing her sixties, looked her age. Unlike many in her generation, she had made no effort to turn back time, ignoring all the progress science had delivered. Still, she had a healthy glow, a perfect figure, and her white hair, adorned with a star-shaped flower, shined as brightly as Stella’s. In many ways the woman had the natural glow Stella worked so hard to put on each day, yet it didn’t vex Stella, she was above such feelings.
Stella's gaze trailed the wounded girl. “Pre-historic child abuse.”
“Shall we have some breakfast?” June inquired, her warm smile tightening Stella's jaw in unease.
The setting was enchanting: a quaint rustic cabin, brimming with aromatic herbs, wild fruits, and unshapely vegetables. Entering, Stella was greeted by the tang of citrus and sight of a bountiful basket of wild berries on the counter.
June proceeded into the kitchen, passing Stella a knife and some ugly apples. “Thin slices, please, for the pancakes. You're fond of pancakes, aren’t you?”
Stella nodded awkwardly, starting to peel the fruit almost reflexively. It was June's smile, combined with how sunlight illuminated all the unpopular colors of the kitchen tiles—humanity’s forsaken shades of beige, ochre, and brown—blending harmoniously to infuse the cabin with warmth.
“Is your son around?”
As June selected two eggs from a basket, she replied, “Should be back shortly. He ventured into town, to assist with the ongoing crimes.”
Stella rolled her eyes expressively. “Your bodies, your darkness, your consequences,” she echoed, imitating June’s inflection.
June fixed her gaze upon Stella. “My son went to New York City to help with your crimes.”
Stella chuckled. Apparently, June possessed a wry wit. “Look, I’m here to ask you to support my immortality motion at the EC. I just want my grandma back. Others do too. You understand that, don’t you?”
June set the eggs down, her gaze piercing Stella with an indiscernible expression. “Did you just come back from your worlds?”
Stella nodded, figuring out what she wanted. “Your husband misses you. He’s heartbroken, really.”
“Stop.” June’s composure shattered, giving way to a maelstrom of anger, distress, and a swirl of other sentiments, too intricate for Stella to decipher. With tightened lips and shut eyes, June seemed to recede, overwhelmed by the torrent of emotions.
Heat rose to Stella’s face as she met June's rudeness, a stinging response to her offer of kindness. A human stuck in the past, externalizing primitive rage when gifted with a new chance on life. “I resurrected him to prove that immortality works. Now, I need you to repay the favor by supporting my vote to bring back the one I love.”
June dabbed away her tears with a kitchen cloth. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. That you don’t know how cruel you are. That your hurtful, dangerous actions are just misguided. I too was part of the problem a long time ago. But please understand…what you’ve done is…unforgivable.”
“It’s him. I promise you, it’s him.”
“Some part of it. Yes. And you’re to blame for his pain. For bringing it into the worlds. And you brought pain to my family, because we hurt when what remains of him hurts.”
“Why are you denying him? You haven’t spoken to him. You don’t know.”
“Because someone else has faced one of the resurrected you peddle. They are not real. They’re not the same. And it drove him insane enough to destroy my family.”
“What are you talking about? Give it a chance. What do you have to lose?”
“My sanity.”
“Then abstain! Abstain from voting. You’re biased and that’s not fair.”
June crossed her arms in a self-embrace. “Stella, you better leave. Perhaps it’s time you turn on your interface and watch the news. When you are ready to shut it all down, come back and we will help you and your people.”
“You don’t un—”
“Stella, leave my home now. Your people are dying and you should tend to that.”
“What people?”
“What are you doing here?” Quincy Jin-Nowak walked in; his eyes set on his mother. “Are you okay?” He rushed to her side and embraced her.
“Stella was just leaving. Will you escort her to her plane?”
Grabbing Stella’s arm, the man nudged her to the door.
“Take your hands off me.” Stella placed her hand on her pocket and grabbed the taser.
“No one’s going to hurt you, princess,” the man said, dragging her out.
“Take your hands off me,” she repeated, shoving her elbow into his ribcage.
He released her. “Why are you back? Is this about the crimes? We have nothing to do with it.”
“What crimes?” Exasperation in her voice. He stared at her blankly. She pulled the old video tape off her pocket. “I tried to kill Storm. Here’s the proof. It’s a VCR, you can watch it without being connected to the Ledger.”
He took the tape. “So, he’s not dead.”
“You funny people. You reject resurrection is real as you asked me to murder one of the resurrected.” She sighed. “Your godfather protected Storm.”
Quincy’s eyes glimmered. “You brought back Tom?”
“Yes, Shadow is…watching me, but…” She took her time, she needed to execute this part of her plan flawlessly. “I can take you to Storm and you can punish him yourself.”
He scoffed. “There’s no way I’m going to plug into that thing.”
“You don’t have to. I know your people use retro TSkins to spy on us.”
The man didn’t confirm or deny the accusation. He stared at her as if he was considering the offer.
She pressed on. “I can’t allow you to kill Storm. He has an important role to play in the future of the worlds, but you are most welcomed to cut off his tongue.” That piercing tongue defined Storm and was a nuisance to Stella. Taking his tongue was worse than death and Quincy knew it.
He smiled, as she knew he would. “When?”
“Whenever you want as long as it is today. Sibyl will let me know when you arrive and we’ll make sure you get to him.” She paused to clear her throat. “I do have a condition.”
“Puppet.” He sneered.
“You have to see your dad first.”
“He’s not—”
“I don’t care.” She raised her voice. “Speak with Twist for five minutes and Sibyl will place you in Storm’s path. Take the poet’s tongue and walk away. Do we have a deal?”
It was a masterful plan. An opportunity to prove to Quincy his father was real and alive. Getting rid of Storm’s powerful words was the icing on the cake.
He nodded. “What is happening down there, Stella?”
“Nothing is. I have fixed all the glitches.” Storm was neutralized in Ordiz and Shadow had stopped…storming. The glitches were gone.
His face contorted in some funny way. “Are you joking?”
“It’s safe to return. I give you my word.”
“Your people are dying and you stand here in front of me bargaining for immortality.”
“No one is dying.” She was getting a little tired of their weird sense of morality. They didn’t believe Twist was Harry but they somehow cared about the Underlings.
“Fifteen million dead in the last twenty-four hours.”
She shrugged. “Underlings die all the time.”
“I’m not talking about bots.”
“What?” Breaking the rules of the Unplugged, she activated her augmented retina and was bombarded with notifications. Leo the second!