The Star
And the Doctor advanced on me with his knife.
The game was up. I closed my eyes and raised my hands to the ceiling. If I'm going to die, I thought, It's good that the last person I'll see will be him…
"Am I… interrupting anything?" Asked the Ambassador of Alagadda. They made a hand-gesture that paralyzed both the Doctor and me.
"No, no…" grunted the Doctor, "Not at all. Just trying to kill her to make myself feel better…"
"Oh, so you're still trying to feel better? We can't have that from an Anguished Lord, can we?" The knife dissolved into nothingness in the Doctor's rigid hand.
"Now, let me see. The other lords' best tactic to bring you to anguish was… 'making you believe your anti-Pestilence crusade had all been for nothing,' it says here? How's that going?"
"You cannot fool me, Alagaddan," grunted the Doctor. "My cure is most effective, no matter the cost it has on individuals."
The Ambassador sighed. "Never send a Lord to do an Ambassador's work."
They began to drag the Doctor's form out of the room in chains. I realized I was no longer paralyzed, but until I could no longer hear the de facto ruler of the realm on the staircase, I would not yet run.
"Come on, Surgeon," said the Ambassador. "The Hanged King awaits."
The Companion
All was in readiness. The final stages of my plan could finally be put into action.
And about time, too. I could barely stand for the pain, and my one friend had gone.
Here I stood, by the side of the main road (which was every road, once you explored them- the city fractalized ever-downward, ever outward, but every street was the same street) of Alagadda, desperately uncomfortable at the orgy that was happening mere meters an indeterminate distance away. It never stopped, for the dreamlike nature of the city meant that none needed to eat nor sleep.
Beside me stood the Deathless Merchant of London and his strange, creepy entourage.
Darke had pulled in favors with some associates of his to negotiate the contracts with the Masked Lords. "If they see me coming," he had explained, "They'll smell that something's fishy a mile away. I'm too well known here."
"You okay, kid?" asked Icky. "This city isn't for you, is it?"
"It's- it's not really to my taste," I told her. I didn't really trust clowns, but she was the friendliest face I was likely to see. "There's too-" Her girlfriend Lolly joined her, bouncing excitedly, and I realized a bit too late that it would be too personal of a subject if I were to mention my discomfort with how much sex there was.
"There's too what?" Asked Lolly. "Can I guess? I never thought there could be too much of anything, let's see… Ooh, what about too little-"
"Lolly," warned Icky. "It's okay for people to feel overwhelmed by things they aren't used to. Sometimes I get self-conscious about whether the circus claims too much." She turned back to me.
"Kid, if anyone here's earned the right to complain about this city, it's you. And Lolly and I have thick skins. As long as you aren't advocating genocide or saying anything against the LGBTQ community, I think we can handle it."
"Well…" I said.
"I'm not comfortable with seeing lots of people engaged in intimate sex all the time," I began.
"Nobody is," said Lolly, to my relief. "Nobody decent, anyway. I don't think most of the people in the orgy realize there's anybody there but themselves."
"And, like you said, Lolly, it's also about there being too few of certain things," I continued. "Colors, for instance."
"That, we can entirely sympathize with," said Icky. "One shade each of red, white, yellow, black… It's depressing, to say the least."
"Exactly!" I said.
"What color do you miss the most?" asked Lolly.
The answer tumbled out before I fully knew what I was saying, "I miss blue."
"Why is that?" asked Lolly. "The sky? The sea?"
"Not really," I said. "It's just…"
I began again. "I've got blue blood," I said.
"Cool!" Said Lolly. "Always a pleasure to meet another Freak!"
I winced. "Oh," said Lolly, "I didn't mean that as an insult! It just means you're special. You're cool! You're not like all the Humdrums out there, and you can use that difference to make things better, for everyone! Whether inspiring a little wonder in their lives, or doing what you're doing here."
"You really need to pay a visit to my home planet's government," I laughed. "They need your perspective."
"Oh, definitely!" claimed Lolly. "Just as soon as you give Mr. Darke here the coordinates, I'll be happy to take a Kaleidoscope ride there!"
"But," said Icky, "I believe you were going to say something else before Icky interrupted?"
"Right," I said. "I've got blue blood. On Earth, that makes me special. On my home world, I was born and bred to follow orders. To be just one of a servant caste. But on Earth, I was the only person with hemocyanin blood. And everyone thought it was cool. I liked the attention. Even Grabnok thought I was cool, and he hops between universes!"
"Grabnok?" Asked Icky. "Oh, you must mean Agent Hopper. He escaped from the Essies recently, joined up with the Serpent's Hand."
"Good for him!" I laughed. "But here, my blood's just a boring old red, like everyone else."
Darke joined in the conversation. "That's where you're wrong, friend!" he said. "Red blood on Earth turns black here."
"So…" I said. "I'm still different?"
"You never stopped being different!" Laughed Lolly. "Once a Freak, always a Freak!"
To Darke's left stood a man who seemed to be biological but left a trail of rust and smog in his wake. "It's my brother," Darke introduced him, "The Investor."
A steam whistle, like the start of a work day, was the sound the Investor made in lieu of a "Hello, how do you do?"
We shook hands, though Darke made a point to make sure it wasn't my metal hand- "You don't want it rusted to pieces quite yet, I am sure," said Darke.
"All right," said Darke. "We all know the plan?"
"Yes," said Lolly.
The Ding of a clocking-in mechanism, said the Investor.
"Yes," I said.
"Yes," confirmed the indeterminate number of Shark-Punchers to my left.
"Are you of the SPC absolutely sure?" Asked Darke. "You're probably getting the worst end of the deal-"
"Listen up, bub," their spokeswoman said. "Our fists are strong. Our resolve will never break. And punching sharks is our greatest joy. So if you have the unmitigated gall to suggest that the chance to punch sharks forever is the worst end of the deal, I might have to deck you as a no-good selachian sympathizer."
"Then let's go!" I said. "Everyone to your positions!"
The Waltz of the Masked Lords
Lolly and the Red Lord, Wearer of the Mirthful Mask
Why Hello There!
Who Are You?
Don't You Know
Well, I Do!
I'm a Clown
(Name's Lolly)
Come to Town
Why To Me?
I Need None-
Give Me Mirth?
I'm the One-
Be not Coy!
Anguish Wrack
Servants Yours-
Red to Black-
Ha, Of Course!
Send to Black-
Make Them Sad-
When Come Back-
Be More Glad!
Time To Sign
Contracts Here
Dotted Line
Have No Fear….
The Investor and the White Lord, Wearer of the Diligent Mask
Who Are You-
I Warn You-
That I Am
Busy.
Tasks To Take-
No Mistake-
That I Am
Busy.
Paperwork?
Leave Me, Jerk-
I'm Very
Busy.
Got No Time
For Each Rhyme
'Cause I'm Still
Busy.
Till I Know
Where Winds Blow
I Will Stay
Busy.
Lines Unread
Leave Some Dead
Best To Be
Busy!
A long period of time passes. The Investor strings together a long series of machine noises representing the text of each contract. They repeat, again and again, faster and faster. At last, the White Lord interrupts:
Right, I'll Sign
Waste No Time
Won't Be Bored
And Busy.
Name, Name, Name-
There's No Blame-
All The Same-
And Busy.
Leave Me Here
Take Your Gear
Let Me Be
Busy!
Darke checked his list. "Thank you, brother," he told the Investor as he handed Darke the last of the contracts. "Here's your compensation for taking a vacation day away from The Factory," Darke said, handing him seven ingots of Telekill. The Investor unhinged his jaw and began to swallow the ingots whole; they had begun to rust even in his hand. He printed from his mouth a long receipt and handed it to Darke. Darke took it and thanked him, as if it were an extravagant show of affection.
"Now, where is dado?" Asked Darke. He looked around, but couldn't see the parapharmacologist entrepreneur anywhere. "We've got a tight timetable before the Lords start to compare notes and realize something's going on. Where is that man?"
Darke's pocket buzzed. He sighed. "Speak of the dado…" He pulled out his phone, which shouldn't have had reception in this place, and read the text message therein.
"What's he say?" Asked Lolly.
Darke groaned. " 'can't come, sry,' he says. 'blame bezos,' he says. 'tried to mail myself to save air fare, but found out too late amazon prime doesn't deliver to alagadda. sry about typhoons, dark in this box,' he says."
"Well, that's just great," I said. "So what now?"
"I don't know," said Darke. "He was the only person I know with the cognitohazard resistance to negotiate with the Odious Lord and maintain a clear head. The Yellow Lord puts out very strong disgust signals; it's in the nature of the mask."
"Hmm," said Icky. "Are you sure I can't go? I run a circus, I work very closely with people who would disquiet a layperson."
"Unfortunately not," said Darke. "We can't have two people from the same source show up to two different lords. When they compare notes later, they'll notice the connection, and I'm pretty sure you don't want the Lords of the city taking an intense interest in the Circus of the Disquieting."
"Nuts," pouted Lolly.
"So," I mused, "We need someone who is very…"
"Kind," said a voice from behind me.
"Yes- Wait, who said that?" I whirled around.
"I did," said a mysterious figure. He wore a mask whose smile radiated warmth, and from the eyes that shone beneath it, his real smile was even kinder.
"Do you know this guy?" I asked Darke.
"I've… heard rumors," said Darke in hushed tones. "A man who suddenly appears to help and comfort people, then vanishes. Never a deus ex machina…"
"Wouldn't dream of being one," said the man. "I'm just here to show you all and the Yellow Lord a little… Kindness."
The Kind Man and the Yellow Lord, Wearer of the Odious Mask
Who Disturbs?
Keep Away!
Let This Mask
Flee Your Day!
Odious
Am I, Com-
-Modious
Is Not Com-
-Pany With
Me! My Rhymes,
Rhythms, Times-
Atrocious,
Ferocious,
So Get Thee
Far, Far Hence-
Why Wait? See-
Hop That Fence!
I Won't Leave
You Now, Friend-
Please, Believe-
I'll Attend.
I'll Be Kind.
You Won't Mind?
You Should Find
Different
Rest In Vo-
-Ciferant
Street Tableau
I'll Repel
You Away
By My Smell
This Fine Day!
Need No Rest
Just To Talk
To Be Blest
With You, Walk!
To Impress
There's No Need
With Your Syl-
-Lable Greed!
I Like You.
I Like All
Want To Know
What You Call
This Great Woe
Separates
Makes You Wish:
Close The Gates!
You… Won't Go?
Very… Well.
If You'll Stay
For A Spell
And Won't Stray
Then I'll Tell-
(Wait This Might)
(Be For Ill)
(Should He Use)
(Truth To Kill)
That May Be:
I'm Only
Killing With
Kindness
Slaughter With
Empathy
You're Here And
I'm Here And
My Dear, I
Want To See
Show Me Your
Burdens
Let Us Com-
-Miserate
You Need To
Unload Your
Unhappy
Ode: The Pain
We'll Destroy
With Kindness.
Musical Interlude.
I Will Tell
You The Tale
How I Fell
Below Veil.5
It Begins
With a Book
And the Toll
That It Took.
Chambers, Bob
Cost My Job!
"Hang'd", I Said!
"In Yellow,"
Wrote, Instead!
Royal Court
Rose in Rage
Because Of
Written Page
I Was Mel-
-Odious
Now I'm Just
Odious
Pariah
Lord in a
Lordship Su-
-Perfluous.
Dear, You Still
Sing So Well
Your Story
Sounds Like Hell.
Performer
Isolate?
What an Ig-
Noble Fate!
All Can Tell.
Sorry For
All Your Pain
It Must Have
Hurt Your Brain!
So Come On
Let It Out
It's Okay
Cry And Shout!
I'm No Judge
Let's Eat Fudge
In A Night
That Is Out!
I Can't Leave
All My Slaves
In Direct-
-Ionless Doubt!
These Contracts
Will Give Them
To The Black
Lord, That Lout!
Let Him Ba-
-Bysit Whilst
We Go Out!
Oh, Well, Fine;
I Will Sign
Dotted Line!
(Killing With)
(Kindness.)
(Slaughter With)
(Empathy.)
(You never had a chance.)
The Companion
We watched the duets from afar, in awe of each pair's respective singing ability and improvisational skill. I supposed it was the dream-logic of Alagadda that organized their words just so, but nobody could deny the intelligence and charisma of all parties involved (with the possible exception of the Investor, who I could never understand.)
An anonymous lady in the street to whom the Kind Man had slipped the contracts in return for a kind word delivered them expressly into my hands. I trembled. This next part was up to me.
"Don't forget about my payment," said Darke, slyly. "I've done all I could, all you asked me for. Tell me how to get to Planet, and we're square."
So I told him. "There's a thriving colony of extraplanetary expats in the anomalous enclave of Upstairs Seattle," I told him. "You get there by showing extraterrestrial DNA or an Upstairs Seattle passport to a secret scanner in the elevator of the Space Needle. Once you're there, watch your step; sometimes there's a sudden break in the clouds over Seattle, and you don't want to fall through the celestial pavement. There's an intragalactic travel agency three blocks from the Needle; it's called "Vermillion Horizons". Technically, Planet isn't on any official itinerary, since the Orthotans put an embargo on it, but tell Jerry the Spook that I sent you and pay what he asks. He'll hook you up with the Culture Bootleggers' Cartel, who regularly make the trip from Earth to Planet and back again."
He turned to leave through the nearest dimensional door. "Wait!" I said. "How do I find the Doctor now?"
"That shouldn't be too hard," he said as he left. "The Ambassador's walking him down the street in the direction of the Palace just now. Ciao!"
So I turned, all my joints aching as I did so.
There was a great procession, and leading it was the Ambassador, who was walking backwards while talking to the Doctor, who was being led in chains. His head was upright, as he made what would have been eye contact if the Ambassador had had eyes. His voice was defiant. "I'm telling you," he said, "All I found in the journal leads me to believe my quest to defeat the Pestilence is just!"
"We'll see," sneered the Ambassador, "Whether that opinion survives a meeting with the Hanged King."
I stood still. Then I broke into a run.
I fell down almost immediately, racked with pain.
I got up, slowly, painfully.
Then I started walking at as brisk a pace as I could manage.
"Doctor!" I shouted. "Doctor, I'm here!"
He whirled immediately, and his chains knocked over the guards they were attached to as he started running for me. "6118!" He called. "Is that really you?"
"Yes!" I said, walking slightly quicker towards him. "I'm here to save you! Everything's going to be all right!"
He had closed half the distance between us when the Ambassador snapped their fingers and the Doctor collapsed.
The Ambassador kept its lack of eyes focused on the Doctor as they glided over to me. "Oh, look, Black Lord Whose Mask Is Not Yet Anguished, it looks like you made a friend! How peculiar. How… opportune." They tented their fingers. "Friendship has great potential for causing all kinds of emotions, wouldn't you say? Maybe we don't need to involve the Hanged King after all."
They looked back at me with malice, with mock-pity. For a being without a face, the Ambassador was quite expressive.
"So go on, young one. Execute your daring plan, save your Doctor and then live happily ever after."
"That was sarcasm, right?" I asked. "It's hard for me to tell sometimes."
"Of course," the Ambassador agreed. "I fully expect you to fail, and that failure to put the Doctor in slightly more anguish then he's in presently. Then perhaps I'll do awful things to you to further lower his mood."
"Thanks for your cooperation, then," I told the Ambassador. "It is very much appreciated."
"Not at all," they replied. "Any time."
So I walked, with great difficulty, up to the Doctor.
The streets were quiet for once. The orgy had stopped, and its participants were looking for their clothes.
My footsteps echoed across the buildings, heavy in infirmity as the Doctor's metal shoes were in weight.
All of this was for him.
Finally I kneeled down by his side. "Just sign these," I told him.
"Mmm Mmm," he said, still completely paralyzed.
I turned to the Ambassador. "Can you unfreeze his arms and hands?"
"Of course," they said, clapping.
The Doctor hugged me and I hugged him and for a moment it was just like old times again. "I love you from Kepler to Earth to Alagadda, and back," I whispered. "It's all going to be all right. We're never going to have to be apart again."
"M mmmm mmm mmm," he said.
"We're getting out of here," I whispered. "I can promise you that. Just sign all these contracts and we'll be free to go."
With difficulty, he extricated himself from my arms. I gave him a quill plucked from a Wandsman and an inkbottle filled with human blood.
So he signed all the contracts. I stood up, shaking, holding the thick stack in my hands.
"All right then," asked the Ambassador, "Now what did that do?"
"I'll tell you what it did," I said, "And exactly why you've got to let us go."
The Doctor
He was sick.
Not with the Pestilence, I couldn't diagnose it anymore since I remembered what it was; but as a Doctor- as a boyfriend- I recognized his physiology was not as sound as it had been when he had left.
His gait hesitated in the hesitation of pain. His joints were swollen, and his skin was all burns and recent shaving injuries. His blood reeked of iron, which was odd considering it usually reeked of copper.
Also, his hand and his wrist were two separate metal mechanisms. I wondered why he had seen fit to keep the remains of one prosthetic limb to build off of another; but that seemed like a concern to deal with after the rest were dealt with. I couldn't ask about it now in any case, since my mouth was still paralyzed.
My heart still leapt out to him, though. I would cut off my own arm if it meant he regained his.
He was talking now. "I have in my hand an indeterminate number of contracts, which now all have an addendum- signed into legality by the binding signatures of each of the Four Lords. Not even you can invalidate them."
"All right," Said the Ambassador. "What's in the addendums, then?"
"I'll tell you!" Said my alien boyfriend. I could hear the pain in his voice, but he sounded quite pleased with himself nonetheless. "Each of them transfers the responsibility of overseeing the contractee into the hands of the Black Lord."
"So you plan on using your new subjects to cause a mutiny, then, allowing the Doctor to escape?"
"Of course not. That would never work. You and the other three Lords are all powerful reality benders. You'd squash such a mutiny in seconds. And even so, you tracked the Doctor down once. There would be nothing stopping you from tracking him down again. No, mutiny is not my plan."
"Then what is your plan?"
"I'm getting to it!" he said with what I imagined under his mask must be an attempt at a smirk that turned into a grimace. "See, the Lords didn't look carefully enough at these contracts while they were signing them. They grew too repetitive, so they never noticed a crucial change in wording towards the end."
"What change in wording?"
"See, most of these contracts- legally binding and waterproof in every way- state that the servants can only work when they're in the same dimension as their overseeing Lord. But here at the bottom of the stack"- And he drew out a much smaller pile- "Are a set of contracts stating that the servants can only work when they're in a different dimension from their Lord."
"All right, so what? You're trying to force us to send him to a different dimension so some workers can get back to work? We can stand to lose a few workers; we'll replace them within the week."
"Not these workers!" crowed my boyfriend, as he lapsed into a coughing fit. "See, these particular workers have the august and most valuable duty of torturing the Hanged King."
And a squadron of Shark Punchers stepped out from the shadows.
"It's almost time for our shift, Ambassador," said their spokeswoman. "Almost time to punch the biggest shark in existence. But I'm afraid we legally can't start punching him until such time as the Pelican over there vamooses."
"Pain is a valuable commodity in Alagadda, Ambassador," said my boyfriend, expansively, as he dropped to his knees from the coughing fit. "The King needs his torment so this cursed dimension can siphon that from him instead of whatever else remains of himself. No torment, no king. And then who will the dimension turn to for its greatest sustenance, Ambassador?"
"Surely we can stand to lose a few tormentors for a few days until we can replace them!"
"You don't know that," my boyfriend said. "Math doesn't work in this city. You can't calculate how close you are to the margin of how much torture is necessary. You don't know that anything will work except for the status quo."
"So, let me ask one more time, nicely. Before the city comes down around your nonexistent ears. A plea to let him telecommute. Let My Doctor Go."
And the Ambassador stood there for a moment, stunned.
And then they began to laugh. They laughed a hearty, wicked laugh, that started as an evil giggle and became a great belly-laugh of a Ho Ho Ho that suited the Krampus more than Santa Claus.
"All right," they said finally, "The Doctor can go. All those people who work for him now can go." They unfroze me, and a portal opened behind me. All over Alagadda, I later found out, similar portals were opening, and grateful people jumped through them, away from this awful place.
"But it turns out," they chuckled, "That I got what I wanted after all. Do you realize, Companion of the Doctor, what you've just become?"
My boyfriend looked confused.
"Ladies, Gentlemen and Nonbinary Folk of all stripes," crowed the Ambassador, "I give you…. THE CURRENT MOST IMPORTANT PERSON IN ALAGADDA!"
"And you know, don't you," they continued, "What happens to the important people in Alagadda. The dimension begins to feast on them, eat what's left of their truth."
And I saw my boyfriend straighten up, as if he had forgotten the pain being generated at that exact moment.
But that wasn't all. My boyfriend's mask grew temporarily transparent, possibly by some magic of the Ambassador's, to heighten the emotional impact of the moment. I saw a great look of confusion dawn on his face as he stared at me.
"Re- remind me again," he said. "I've got a terrible memory for faces. What's your name?"
He continued. "I know I just executed an elaborate plan on your behalf. I can feel the edges of the hole in my mind. I just can't remember…"
He's infected… I thought. THE PESTILENCE!
I CAN STOP IT IN ITS TRACKS I CAN PRESERVE OUR MEMORIES I AM THE CURE I AM THE CURE HE MUST BE CURED
I WONT LOSE ANOTHER LOVED ONE TO IT ILL PRESERVE HIM AND ALL THE TIMES WE SHARED FOR ALL TIME FOR ALL TIME
I CAN BEAT THE SECOND DEATH I CAN GET TO HIM BEFORE ITS TOO LATE
is it worth it
OF COURSE ITS WORTH IT THE TIMES WE SHARED ARE WORTH PAYING ANY COST TO PRESERVE
but he's with you now
WHICH IS WHY I CANT LOSE HIM DO YOU UNDERSTAND
you won't be able to make new memories with him if you cure him
THATS NOT THE POINT
he's still here there's still time
I CAN SAVE HIM I CAN SAVE US
but can you save what you can be
I
I…
What’s the Worth
Of A Life
That is Spent
Causing Strife
I Repent
To the Earth
And to God
For I Grow:
Life’s Worth More
Than to Know
Of Before
It’s So Odd
Were it Not
For Six One
One Eight’s Love
There’d be None
Who Could Shove
Me From Aught
Journal Told
But the Thought
Of the Man
Is Worth Naught
If I Can
But Him Hold
The Companion
And the stranger man who I should know, after picking himself up and wrapping his fingers around my throat, loosened his grip and collapsed to the ground of his own volition, this time, and started convulsing in mental anguish.
"Well, finally," said the Ambassador. "I look forward to working with you remotely, Anguished Lord."
Finally, the man in the bird mask Anguished Lord, apparently? forgotten friend stood up. "Come on," he said. "We can try to regather your thoughts on the other side of the portal. Let's go."
"All- all right?" I said. "In spite of my first impression of you being my attempted murder, apparently I trusted you enough to want to get out of here with you, so okay, let's go."
He looked hurt, but he stepped through the portal.
I followed him.
I followed him.
I tried to follow him, but I bounced off of the portal.
The Ambassador of Alagadda laughed. "The dimension itself already extracted its punishment," they said. "This is mine. All the Ways out of Alagadda are hereby closed off to you, and not even the Wanderer's Public Works Department can let you leave now."
The last thing I saw of the stranger friend boyfriend, possibly, from the jagged edges of the memories? was the desperate look in his eyes as he reached for my hand through the portal, trying to pull me in, before the Ambassador closed it.
"Congratulations, kid," the Ambassador said. "You're a nobody again. That's all the punishment I can mete out for you." He handed me a brochure entitled, "A Tourist's Guide to the Pleasure City of Alagadda: Or, All the Obscure Words for the Four Colors and How To Spell Them."
"The city is all yours, kid. Get real comfortable." They laughed as they floated away.
The Kind Man came back a little later. "It's okay to cry now, if you want," he said, as we hugged fiercely. "It's the healthy thing to do."
So I cried my coppery eyes out as he comforted me.
I thought he would leave, eventually. I asked him about this. "I have all the time in the world to be kind, friend," he told me. "I'll stay as long as you need me."
So we stayed there for quite some time.
Eventually, I felt empty enough of tears to let go. I waved goodbye, and he walked into a building and vanished.
So I stood there, alone, unsure of what to do. I knew in the memory of the bird-masked one I had lost something of great value. I had lost my sole guiding light, my sole reason that I got up in spite of how much it hurt.
Eventually I made my way towards the black sea that girdles Alagadda, beneath the xanthous sky (a term I learned from the brochure) and its black stars.
I saw the signs that warned people not to go swimming, or fishing.
So I jumped in.
The Doctor
I collapsed in despair.
Dimly conscious of bookshelves extending to the horizon, I sprawled onto the floor.
People came up to my body, speaking in the direction of my face. They spoke warmly and kindly. Sometimes, they got angry. Eventually, they left.
Maybe if I lay here long enough, I would stop feeling this way.
Whap!
Someone had punched me in the face!
Who…
Pow!
I stood up, shakily, my hands covering my mask.
"And that's for forgetting my birthday in 1732!"
Whap!
"And that's for thinking medicine is worth killing people over!"
Crack!
"And that's for lying on the ground trying to numb your feelings while your boyfriend rots in the city he just rescued you from!"
My face hurt, though I could tell there was no lasting damage. My opponent knew how to inflict maximum pain with minimum actual harm.
And the voice was familiar…
"Anesthesiologist?" I said. "Is that you?"
"You bet your hollow-boned chicken-livered fanny it's me!" He shouted. "I've been looking all over this Library for you since I learned you were here! And I thought, maybe he's doing research. Maybe he's connecting with the Hand! And I find you doing NOTHING! Doing less than nothing for the person who saved your bilious clogged colon from Alagadda and sacrificed his health, his memory, and his freedom in the process!"
"You're…" I said. "You're right, Ani." I dusted off my clothing and stood, upright and free from illusions for the first time in all my six hundred years. "He's not staying there for long. Not if I have anything to say about it."
