Waverly could no longer deny that Toto was ready.
Waverly was ready too—well, as much as he could be. Bulletproof vest, specialized weaponry, a determination to do whatever needed to be done.
He wasn't exactly happy about it, though.
"You two keep each other safe," David told them, "or I will be very angry. I'll be listening in in case there's anything I can do." He tapped his Bluetooth earpiece, which was connected in to Waverly's identical one, Atur's alien equivalent, and directly into Toto's audio processors.
Nifu stood ready to be called upon, listening via her own slightly creepier means. Toto, Waverly, and Atur set forth, like an RPG adventuring party on a raid, but the landscape was real-life New York.
It was almost funny, until he remembered that the boss was Okka.
Neither the media nor the police had discovered the place, but they were both sniffing around the general area. It wouldn't stay that way for long. A man on a flying metal horse and one with a huge sword whose blade had edges made of rifts in the universe were about to make the place a considerable amount more conspicuous.
The minions of the Imperium came out to meet them as they approached on the stories-high rim of the dry dock. More of them were in the insectoid shape that Atur had called "Scythe" than Waverly remembered from his information-gathering jaunt, which was one more point for their all being shapeshifters. Mimica.
Okka's people. For good or ill.
The weapons that Waverly had given to Toto could hurt their current forms, slow them down, but not bring them down for good. The plan was to let Atur and Nifu handle that part. Waverly's job was to find Okka, get the mirror into place, and keep himself and Toto alive.
Waverly watched Atur face them all without hesitation. Expert strikes cut into the weak points of chitinous armor, making the first few fall back. They watched as the armor reformed, and then they knew for certain.
When Atur called on Nifu to aid his sword, he turned his hand to strike with the flat of his blade, and the results were even more deadly. Whole swathes of a being disappeared into the nowhere behind Nifu's glass, and the rest of the body fell, instantly dead. Even Mimica could not survive having so much of their body vanish into a place that was nowhere.
It was possible that one of these Mimica was Okka. But Waverly didn't think so. They would all soon be dead, and if the Imperium wanted Okka off this planet so badly, xe wouldn't be in the first wave. Xe would be down in the mess of construction, close to the half-finished rocket. Waverly and Toto flew down to the floor of the dry dock far below, eyes and cameras scanning for Okka, and finding xem.
Xe'd moved from the main construction area into one of the piles of scrap and had obviously only shown xemself as bait. There could be anything hidden in the wreckage. Waiting to ambush them.
Waverly didn't care. From then on, he had one purpose and one purpose only. To get to Okka. Atur appeared beside him soon enough, having let himself down the side of the dock with the aid of a thin rope. Waverly and Toto pushed forward and distracted, Atur defended. The numbers around them were dwindling, but with Mimica, would there be any way to tell if there were more tucked away somewhere?
Waverly picked a spot just between where Okka waited and the half-finished rocket. The Cewri may have wanted to spare the rocket battle damage, but if Okka and the other Mimica couldn't get to the vehicle, it wouldn't be of any use. Waverly brought Toto and the mirror to that spot, and beckoned to Atur to push Okka that way, if he could.
Their enemy must have realized something of what they were up to, because Waverly's position was suddenly the focus of a half-dozen fighters.
"Oh, that doesn't sound good," he heard David's voice in his ear.
"It's not," Waverly agreed shortly, focusing on staying alive.
Waverly and Toto were hard-pressed to protect themselves. Atur hurried over to aid the defense. "Hold on!" he called, unable to reach them through the mess of enemies.
Waverly scrambled to comply, trying to keep an eye on every enemy, but there were too many and while he was distracted on one side, he failed to block a devastating blow from the other.
Not to himself or Toto, but to the mirror.
Shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. None of which were any use if they wanted to get Okka through one of these holes in the universe alive.
Atur and Waverly stared down at it, aghast. Okka was racing towards the trap they had laid for xem, and the door to that trap was now firmly shut.
Waverly's mind raced. Atur, however, simply raised his weapon.
"My sword will have to serve," he said grimly.
He was right. There was no time for anything else. If they couldn't stop Okka by tearing xem free of the influence of the Collective, they would have to stop xem by killing xem.
There had to be another way. All Waverly had to do was think of it.
"Xe comes," Atur warned. "Nifu, aid my sword!"
"No!" Waverly cried, and brought Toto down to stand in the way. Toto spread his great metal wings. "Nifu, here!" Waverly yelled. He flicked a segment of the Pegasus wings so that its shining metal surface rang.
God, Waverly hoped it was big enough. The segments didn't open far. But it was better than Atur's sword.
Waverly couldn't see the outside of the wing, so he wasn't sure what choice Nifu had made until he saw the flat of Atur's sword strike Okka.
It hit with force, blunt metal launching the small figure in Waverly's direction, where xe vanished in the shadow of a wing.
Waverly didn't dare to move, trusting in Nifu's rifts and Atur's aim to get Okka to safety.
He never saw the other Mimica coming, only felt the impact as the bulk of a pack animal tore into the gap that the outstretched wing had left in his defenses.
Distantly, he could hear Atur call, "Lady Nifu, my sword, now!"
Waverly faded out before he could know anything more.
*~*~*
The moment Okka went through the portal, xe returned to xemself. Xe immediately reached for xir daughter's hand, clasping it hard. There was a lump of distress at the core of xem from what xe had been made to do, what xe had allowed xemself to become, but xe pushed aside xir own reactions. Okka was safe. Waverly was still in grave danger.
Nifu and Okka both watched, horrified, as within some of the many shards of reality around them, they could see Pegasus go down.
One of the shards was Atur's sword, and through it flew a slice of that Mimica which had been used to crush Waverly and Toto. Breathing hard, Atur told them, "The enemy is down, but so is Waverly. He's badly injured."
Okka did not want to see how bad it was, but xe could not tear xir gaze away. Waverly was unconscious, Okka saw with distress, and Toto seemed to have lost his ability to move, as well as parts of his limbs. They lay in a wreck, oozing blood and oil.
Okka grit xir teeth, frustrated that xe couldn't see a way to help Waverly. "I need to get to him," xe demanded. "Or we need to get him into the Paths so he doesn't die while we figure this out. Nifu, what can you do?"
Nifu pulled shards of reality towards her, searching them for information, for possibilities. "Pegasus's left wing is crushed," she said. "I don't have a big enough window to pull Waverly through. Not without doing more damage, damage I don't think he'll survive."
"How big is your biggest window?" Okka asked.
Nifu pulled a largish shard towards her, maybe three feet long but substantially narrower. "This one," she said, "on the right wing. Atur, can you straighten the joint any farther? I don't think Toto has control anymore."
Atur took the metal of the wing in his hands, bending it back as far as it would go. Okka watched with horror as the motion jostled the twisted metal digging into Waverly's torn flesh. But xe had no better ideas, not now.
"Not good enough," Nifu said when the gap stood perhaps fifteen inches at the widest. "I'd kill him before I could get him through."
Okka felt panic rising in xem. "I need to get out there," xe said, voice strangled. Xe took a breath and looked down at xemself. Half shifted from xir chosen body, xe was more Scythe than humanoid, slimmer and lighter than xe had been. "I can make it through."
"Won't you fall prey to the Cewri's control again?" Atur said, gaze hard through the window of the slim segment of wing.
There was nowhere that Waverly could go that Okka would not follow him, if xe was needed. Waverly needed xem now. His life hung on a precarious edge. Okka needed him, in turn. Loved him.
It was a heavy emotion, enough to break xem if xe let it. Okka would break down anything in xir path before xe let that happen. Okka would do whatever it took to get back through that portal.
"If I do," Okka replied, "you have my permission to strike me down. But if I didn't try to save Waverly, I couldn't live with myself."
Atur considered, gaze falling to the broken body of the man who had fought by his side. He turned back to Okka. "I want to believe that this is as simple a prospect as it sounds," he said, "but I am not accustomed to trusting the words of Mimica."
There was a shouted protest from the communications device at Atur's waist, and Atur took it out to better listen. It was David.
"If Waverly dies because you couldn't trust the only being capable of saving his life," David told Atur, "I swear to you I have the clout and resources to make sure you are never allowed to set foot on this planet ever again. Now prove yourself. Are you here to protect humans, or not?"
Atur sighed deeply. "You'd call me a coward for this," he said, "and you'd be right to. This is a risk worth taking." He held out a hand to Okka. "Come through."
It occurred to Okka that xir mission had succeeded after all.
Okka took Atur's hand, pulling xemself through the portal and regaining xir power to shift and merge.
It was the first time xe had touched Atur since xe had remembered what xe was. Xe wasn't reaching out, but xe could immediately tell that xe would not be able to reach Atur's mind. Something was shielding it.
There was a rigidity to it, and then past that, another layer of protection, almost like encryption.
But this was not the time to study that. The rigidity, though, was simple enough to reproduce, and would stop Okka from being able to reach for the Collective. Xe took that quality and made it xir own.
Then, xe turned to saving Waverly.
It was bad. Tattered skin and gushing blood and worse. Okka could feel the pain of it like an echo in xir soul. Xe braced xemself to feel it in xir body.
Atur looked grim. "I am afraid he is beyond saving."
Part of Okka's mind reminded xem that if Atur was right—if xe attempted the healing and failed, if Waverly was already as good as gone or if he rejected the full merge as some sapient creatures did—then Okka would be signing xir own death warrant, too, merely by beginning the attempt. But Okka was hardly listening. Xe had work to do.
Okka drew xemself up, made xemself entirely a thing of membranes and struts, like a gigantic pelican with bat wings. Xe scooped Waverly up as quickly and as gently as xe could, spread xir great wings, and launched.
As much as Okka had missed changing shapes, and shapes that could fly, xe took no pleasure in the necessity of this shape, this flight.
All xir focus was on Waverly. On keeping him alive.
*~*~*
Mostly there was pain.
Waverly could take pain. He knew he could. He'd fallen from horses, gotten waxed for photoshoots. He'd burned himself enough times, both in the lab and in the kitchen, to have a pretty intimate relationship with pain.
This… this was something else again. Pain to the nth power. Pain on steroids. Some real… collector's edition… pain.
It was possible Waverly wasn't thinking very clearly right now.
Things were fading in and out now, and he didn't think it was just because of the injury. Something was off a little bit about… well, reality.
He was a little foggy on the details, but he was pretty sure Okka had turned into a gigantic bird. Xe'd snatched up Waverly's broken body (ouch), and then…
Well, mostly there was pain. Not just because the pain was intense, but because… something was between him and the outside world, keeping him from sensing anything that was happening outside his body.
With a sudden flash of clarity, Waverly realized that that something was a someone, and that that someone was Okka.
Xe was all around him, blanketing every inch of him, was melting into his skin, the same way they had done in that one soaring moment, before Pegasus, before this war they were fighting. The first time they'd really touched.
Except there wasn't anything of sex about it, this time, not really.
That presence, that surety of Okka's attention on him, that connection, was stronger than ever, but the urgency of it was of a completely different flavor.
The first touch, for example, had been rich and sweet like vanilla, deep like molasses, but this was tart and sharp, like lemon. Just like Okka to change xemself so thoroughly to suit the situation.
Waverly, himself, probably tasted like the mental equivalent of coffee twenty-four-seven, and to hell with whether it was the appropriate time for coffee. In the lab, it was always the appropriate time for coffee. Sleep, schmeep. …Sheep?
Yeah, Waverly really wasn't thinking very clearly right now.
And Okka's lemon-sharp presence was knocking, steadily, insistently, at the door of his mind.
The door? Was Okka really just at the door? Was there more than this? Was there a deeper level on which to connect?
Just the concept frightened Waverly as nothing else in his life ever had. He would have whimpered if he'd had the breath for anything, if he wasn't already too far gone to scream from all this pain.
Oh, yes. The pain.
Hello again, pain. Let's not get better acquainted.
Okka's knuckles rapped again on the door of his mind, but softly, pleadingly, like they were stroking down his cheek. Xir thoughts spoke into his mind.
It's one pain or the other, my sweet.
You can take this away?
Yes, Okka told him, all that fierce tart lemon shining in his thoughts. But you have to let me in.
Waverly considered that.
Yep, still terrifying. But then, what option here wasn't?
Every bit of his bones ached. His ribs were like fire. His legs… he wasn't completely sure he had legs, anymore. He was a mess, inside and out.
Damn it.
If Okka wanted this mess, who was he to deny xem?
Waverly Kemp knew he was dying.
He'd trusted Okka with his mind before, but that had been a dance, a conversation. This was something more profound. And Waverly had spent a series of tortured hours learning to regret trusting Okka the first time.
But that had been the Cewri's fault. Not Okka's.
And what did Waverly have, right now, to lose?
He reached out, drew Okka to him, and it felt like cradling xir hand as xe held a razor-sharp scalpel, pulling the blade towards his heart.
I'm yours. All that I am is yours.
The blade cut deep.
—burst tissues and gushing fluids and a paralyzing sense of different and alien—
Waverly had the sense that he was looking at himself from the outside, that he was the alien in this scenario.
That xe was Okka.
Xe was Okka.
But they were also Waverly. Both of them were. And Waverly was dying. They were dying! Waverly was Okka and Okka was Waverly and Okka was going to die right along with Waverly if they didn't fix their body right now!
Fix it?
Yes, we can fix it. We need to accept everything we are, and cherish everything we are, and once we have done that, we can change everything we are. Human, hurt, broken. We must see the damage, know the damage, and then we can fix the damage.
Do I get to know you? he wondered eagerly.
You must. We must remake both our selves, now, if we are to live. We are one, and we live or die together.
Waverly realized that from where he stood, as one with Okka, he could know Okka as he knew himself. He reached for memories, and they came.
Vivid, as if he'd lived them, he saw. The Mimica homeworld, and all its connections, vast and deep as this one. It was a utopia.
But as much as Okka loved xir home, xe had searched the galaxy for something different. Xe was always on an undercover mission, the first to volunteer if anything new and interesting came up.
Okka had never been sure what exactly it was xe was looking for. Something solid. A place to stand. A thing to build. A context from which to exert leverage, to shift worlds.
Xir own shape. Because Okka longed to find xemself among all xir vast potential. One central core for all xir personalities to organize themselves around.
Because Okka was everything. And therefore nothing. Okka was the galaxy, the universe, the great, eternal, yawning black void.
But no, Waverly knew that blackness, he knew that substance of which the wide stretches of emptiness were woven. It wasn't emptiness. It was acceptance.
Waverly needed acceptance. He drank it in like water. He drank in the essence of Okka.
Okka was everything in its time. Okka was flux and mischief; Okka was laughter and resignation. All xir abilities hinged on xir acceptance of all those states. Xe had to accept what xe was in order to change it.
"Acceptance" was such a small word for it, for what Okka was to xir body—embracing the potential in every cell, every single iota of xemself. Xe was the possibility of being male, of being female, of being many things that were neither, of being vertebrate, scaled, feathered, of being cephalopodic, chitinous, photosynthesizing. Every color and every shape and every way of being alive were all part of Okka, and xe embraced them all.
Xe embraced the possibility of becoming human, of becoming one with a human, and in particular Waverly. Xir desire for Waverly was different than a human's libido, though xe contained the potential to feel that as well. Xe embraced the animals of Earth, the creatures of Avla and its ally worlds.
Okka embraced xir ability to become likenesses of the Cewri, the race that had hunted and enslaved xir people, and would try to do the same to Earth and the whole of the protectorates. Okka cherished the knowledge and the possibility that xe might adapt to imitate the form of the insectoid Scythe, the parasitic Creepers, slaves of the Cewri.
Okka cherished xir own potential to reverse the change xe had made in xir cells that kept Creepers from enslaving xem. Okka celebrated xir own impermanence. Xir potential for self-destruction.
In the face of such profound acceptance, Waverly knew he could be himself, down to the last iota. But it was still hard to let go of all his masks and barriers.
His body, Okka knew, inside and out, but the acceptance of everything that it was, every aspect of its capability, was eye-opening for Waverly. His whole immune system, his whole genetic code, was spread out like the guts of a computer, every circuit and every line of code, ready to be tinkered with. Cleaned and patched and brought back up to spec.
Or better.
Waverly accepted the damage he'd done himself over the years, and with Okka's help, set about healing it.
Is that it? Waverly asked. Will we be okay now?
I'd like to heal all your hurt, Okka replied. If you'll let me. Especially the hurt I have done you.
That meant accepting everything that was Waverly. Body and mind. That would be (impossible—no)… hard.
Otherwise, Okka would always hold the hurt that was Waverly's, that was now part of xem, as well.
If they could heal that… even a little…
Waverly would try.
Waverly let go of his small secrets first. Secrets about what the tabloids speculated about him—who he slept with, who he had relationships with, how many of them he'd cheated on. The fact that there were many people who'd be shocked to learn that that last number was zero. The fact that he played up that flirtatious side of himself for the cameras intentionally. Keep expectations low. Then people would never be let down.
There were so many ways to let people down, on this strange earth. So many ways to fail. And especially in the world of business, where everything was tension, everything was a tug-of-war to see who could get the most out of the other guy. There was no such thing as kindness, no such thing as selflessness. If it wasn't a calculated move, if it didn't help the bottom line, it was worthless.
Either you disappointed people by failing to excel, or you disappointed the people who would rather have you adhere to whatever arbitrary ethical standard they personally believed in.
David had always fallen on the side of his own ethics, and discord was common between his way of seeing things and the way Waverly had been raised—to chase success above all else.
During one intense discussion, David had told him, "There's a difference between excelling and succeeding. Success is arbitrary, and you can define your own conditions for it. Personally, if I'm happy then I'm succeeding at life."
"So you're going to business school because?" he'd asked in response.
"Business runs the world, and I want to change the world."
Waverly had fallen in love right then and there.
After reliving that memory, Okka's own nature meant that from then on, xe would always be a little bit in love with David. Same as Waverly was. They both took a moment to accept and acknowledge that before moving on to the next thing that was part of Waverly.
Waverly held on a little longer to the sexual stuff, the things he enjoyed that he thought of as perversions. The fantasies he'd had that he'd never found a way to enact. But Mimica didn't have the same kind of shame around sex. They barely had sex, as themselves. But intimacy and honesty were natural to them, and Waverly already felt naked in a way he never had before. What was another inch of metaphorical skin?
After that came everything that was Toto. The intelligence was called Toto so people would underestimate him, think him only a pet the way the fluffball was. Toto had been a project for Boston Dynamics, but when he'd developed sapience, Waverly had gotten… attached. He'd bought out the whole kit and kaboodle from under them.
It had been the right thing to do. Many people had called Waverly self-indulgent for it, but for once he'd been sure. Toto would be safest in his hands.
He'd been absolutely certain he'd made the right choice there, for damn once.
The memories attached to that sentiment were hard, even now, to take out and look at. Okka tugged, gently but insistently.
After Waverly's dad had died, his mom had seemed okay. It had been hard to tell, from away on campus. But she had insisted that he continue with his studies.
He'd been good at people, he'd thought. People liked him. He was charming. A social butterfly, even.
Then, his mom had overdosed. He hadn't known she'd ever touched a drug.
Butterfly, meet windshield.
That had led to all his doubts about people's motives, about his own ability to truly connect with people. To be what they needed.
The fear that he'd needed to track down a shapeshifting alien to find someone who could adapt to any situation, just to find one person in the galaxy who could tolerate him.
No. You are perfect for me, just as you are. No one else would do. I need exactly you.
Wonder, a tinge of disbelief. Okka went rifling through all the boxes in his mind, digging up treasures to show xir Waverly.
Okka shared anything and everything xe could find. Shared the loneliness xe had felt on Avla. Xe had no other children from all xir other lives—it tended to lead to complications, reproducing while undercover—but the isolation of the Collective's stillness must have driven Myrdu's need for family, because he had pursued a woman, treated the form's infertility, fathered a child. He had been an attentive father to Nifu, far more than the expectations of Avlan culture dictated, and they shared a bond that was in itself satisfying, if not anything resembling a true merge.
Nifu's mother had drifted away with barely a regret.
There were so many memories, in Okka's mind. Some older than Okka, but memories that informed so much of who Okka was.
Old memories, memories of when, to defend themselves, Mimica learned to merge with someone, and if they could not convince their enemy to turn to their side, if their enemy would rather die than stop endangering the Mimica, then they would die. The whole combined being would die.
It is what Mimica do. Convert, or kill. From a certain perspective, it must be frighteningly like what the Cewri do. We do not blame the Avlans for fearing us.
Now we merge with aliens only in extreme emergency.
I've always been fascinated with other worlds, with non-shapeshifters. I have feared that I would die that way. I have feared that when met with someone perfectly inflexible, wonderfully unique, unwilling to bend with me as Mimica do, that person would refuse me. When I found someone truly interesting, it would be my destruction, and theirs.
But you are yourself, unrelentingly yourself, and yet you accept me. All that I am. All that I could be. You are what I have waited all these ages to find.
I talked you into it, Waverly objected. I pressured you. Just like I do to everyone.
You don't know how badly I wanted to be talked into it. I could have given you more context. I could have explained more. I could have told you what you wanted to know.
Waverly gave Okka a mental squeeze of affection. No. You were all tied up in knots, and all I did was pull harder. It's no wonder you snapped.
Well, it's over and for the best, now. Let's try our best not to blame ourselves anymore.
They pushed on, exploring Okka's mind.
There were… boxes, blocks of information they couldn't access. They belonged to Okka, in a sense, but they were not part of xem.
Tools to be opened only in emergency, Okka told him, and together they read the labels. The flags that told xem exactly when xe could open the boxes and make use of what was inside. Each one represented a sacrifice, a Mimica soul who had closed the knowledge off from the rest of the Collective and then died to keep that knowledge safe.
There were many memories of Okka's life with the Collective that xe joyfully shared. They were bittersweet, now, but Waverly's fascination and fresh experience of them made it well worth the pain.
They didn't go that deep into every single memory—there were too many, what with Okka's millennia of lives—but they were all acknowledged, as a person acknowledges their own past without going digging through it.
There were memories of Waverly's that he didn't ever want to relive that vividly, so he understood. It was the feelings around those memories that needed accepting most, anyway.
Like ocean waves lapping away at the shore, Waverly/Okka lost their resistance to accepting what they were. Who they were. Choices, mistakes, triumph and grief.
In time, they reached a state of equilibrium, where the rush to know and the hurry to heal had passed. Instead they simply were, one mind, idly picking through good memories like one might peruse a photo album, stopping now and again to delve into the tale behind one or another.
They lingered a little on their memories of the sensation of flight. Okka had been many things that flew and had ridden many more. Waverly had only really flown Pegasus, but it was a particularly glorious sensation, all the same.
Still, he was drawn in by Okka's memories, and by the rhythms of beating wings.
Okka offered the memory of a Mimica dance, the visceral joy of changing shape while in sync with each other, of being first a pod of dolphins and then, a moment later, a flock of birds.
Waverly shared the recipes he'd gotten from his grammy, and the memories that came with them, holidays and rainy days alike.
Okka allowed him to share in the memory of what it was like to photosynthesize.
Waverly eventually found time to prod curiously at the wall that now stood between the two of them and the Collective. How does that work? he asked. That you aren't in danger from the Collective anymore?
Okka dropped the situation into his mind whole, the static mental frequency maintained in all Avlans via their diet, the fact that Okka had stolen the effect when xe'd first touched Atur after coming back to Earth. Then xe said, wryly, as if xe were speaking into Waverly's ear, I may not be authorized for an Avlan apple, but I can run an emulator just fine.
The humor and joy of that ballooned in both of them like a bright flower blooming in time-lapsed footage.
The fola was still there with them as well, and Waverly shared in the joy of saving the small life, of knowing it was healthy. I was thinking of giving it to Nifu, Okka thought. They could both use the company.
They shared the rush of relief when Toto came back online in the building. Their beloved family member was safe. They'd accepted their anxiety over it, and their inability to help while they were healing. But there was better rest, now that that distress was gone.
Waverly's body was stable now, stable enough to move, and with Okka around him, giving him perfect support and keeping track of every potential for re-injury, they could move around, slowly and carefully. But only together. As kind of a large, blobby humanoid creature with two heads.
Toto came in search of Waverly around that time, and they both owed the bot more than to hide from him.
"Hey, Toto," Waverly greeted. "Lookin' spry. Who fixed you up? One of the lab monkeys disobey me and come back to help?"
It didn't take much to reassure Toto that Waverly was alive and well somewhere in this mess of body. After all, Toto was intimately familiar with the concept that the same personality could transfer between multiple sets of hardware.
"No," Toto said. "It was a new friend I brought back. She had to go, but I'm sure she'll be around. Nifu helped. I see you're doing much better than when we parted, too."
"We both are," they agreed. "But still healing."
"I'll tell David. He's been worried. Should I let you rest?"
"Actually, I want to get back to work," Waverly said. "As fascinating as this has been, I'm itching to do some coding."
"Yes, let's," Okka agreed. Xe was curious what it would be like, coding while they were sharing minds, sharing everything. They both had backgrounds in programming, but in vastly different contexts. They'd blended through the words of cooperation in their projects together, but it must necessarily be even more stark and visceral in real time.
It was pretty amazing.
Waverly was used to there being a certain flow to his work, ideas spread out in front of him and a rhythm to his movements and thoughts. The first time Okka inserted a new idea into the flow of Waverly's work, it was jarring. Then he saw how it fit. It wasn't how Waverly would have done things.
It was better.
The next time, the unexpected change in direction was exhilarating. In its own way, this was as good as flying.
But what was almost more interesting was what happened the first time Waverly's phone rang.
Waverly usually ignored his phone, and he gave a mental eyeroll at the sound, determined to do the same this time.
Don't trouble yourself, Love. I've got this.
Forming one of xir own arms, xe picked up the phone and held it to Waverly's ear. Xe took the burden of the focus on that ear, on the conversation, on what Waverly might say and what Waverly knew that might apply to the topic.
Business was done quickly, efficiently, and painlessly. Okka loved chatting with people. Okka loved sorting through Waverly's knowledge for useful little tidbits. It didn't interrupt the flow of Waverly's work.
Waverly grinned. I think this is going to be more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.
When some newspaper called for an interview, Waverly even devoted some of his attention to that. But he let Okka help filter him, nudge him in the right direction.
When they asked about his injuries, he said, "Looked worse than it was. You know wounds bleed more in real life than in Hollywood." He laughed. "I'll be back on my feet in a couple of days."
"Why did you build Pegasus? Why now?"
"I'm the king of adaptability," Waverly replied easily. "Who better to adapt to a threat of a kind we've never seen before?"
"What was that that rescued you?" the interviewer asked.
All he said was, "Sometimes heroes need other heroes."
The warmth that came from Okka, hearing that, was like an embrace.