At some point, everything had gone quiet.
Quincey didn’t remember when she slipped into a dream and when the dream stopped, nor did she remember when Duplex took her body. She remembered that it did happen, and words were exchanged, but everything was lost to the hazy miasma that was the dreamscape. An inkling could provide a most lucid dreaming experience, but once that inkling was gone everything unraveled like a bad mummy costume. In the end, Quincey regained consciousness back in the real world as if waking up from a very pleasant and very warm nap.
“Mmn…” She groaned quietly as reality settled in. Her eyelids opened under protest, wishing to have her sleep more but losing that fight as her brain revved up. Memories came rushing back into her head too quickly for her to really sort them out. All she knew was that she was in a comfortable bed of some kind.
Considering the way things had been going, waking up in bed didn’t comfort her much. She had no idea of knowing where she was. She could have been captured again for all she knew. She took stock of her situation as she opened her eyes fully and looked at the ceiling.
The ceiling, through a veil of thin black silk, was painted white and wasn’t a log cabin roof at all. With her glasses still missing, she couldn’t see the patterns in the ceiling reminiscent of Ancient Victorian stylings. The bed she laid in was massive, built with its own canopy and silky curtains draped over it. Peering through the drapes she could see the rest of the room vaguely – dark painted walls with white trim, a large, open closet big enough to be its own bathroom… and an actual bathroom. No doubt about it, the place she found herself in was not Clarkston. Her current holdings were much too modern for that.
She rested again and took a deep breath of warm air that came in through vents in the floors. Her rising stomach was met with some resistance, and she moved to sit up so she could peer down at who lay there. Daxton Kemberge rested fast asleep using her pudge under the blanket as a pillow. Happiness flooded into her heart immediately and it felt like she was going to burst with joy – but Daxton was sleeping soundly. His hair was neatly combed, his hat was off, and he was looking comfortable upon the armchair he sat on positioned next to the bed. Quincey decided to wake him gently, brushing her fingers through his hair.
Daxton’s ear twitched a few times before his body rose to life. He dragged his arms back over Quincey’s body to grip the thick blankets and rub his face into her stomach. When he realized her fingertips played throughout his clean hair, he rose quickly. “Quincey?” He asked, unable to see her.
“Oh Daxton…” Quincey breathed.
“Oh God, Quincey!” Daxton bolted upright in his chair and hurriedly grabbed at the back of it where he’d left his hat balanced. He pulled it on over his head when he climbed onto the bed, his sight barely returning to him before Quincey’s arms were around his neck and he was pinned against her body.
“Daxton!” She squealed with joy.
“Quincey!” Daxton yipped back amid a laugh. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging a mile a minute. His butt did wiggle as if he were trying to wag his tail, which seemed all too appropriate considering the downward-facing dog pose Quincey had pulled him into as he straddled her.
He’d been comfortable pulled against her breasts, but she lifted him into an eager kiss. Their lips met and they melted into each other, their feelings of joy washing between them and replaced with immediate senses of relief. Every now and then their lips would part with a gentle smacking, but they would seal again after quick breaths were taken.
The kisses had to stop when Quincey began to cry. Daxton laid himself down on the bed with her and held her tightly, allowing her to press her face against his bare shoulder and wipe her tears away on it.
“I was so scared,” She shook, “But I knew you’d come…!”
“You’re okay,” Daxton assured her, taking a deep breath to maintain his strong face.
Quincey held him and dried her tears as quickly as she could. “It was awful,” She said, “Those people at C-Clarkston, they…”
Daxton shushed her with a kiss to her freckled cheek. “I know,” He said, “Kenny told me.”
“But then Duplex, it…” Quincey began again.
“None of that is gonna hurt you now,” Daxton said, “You’re not in Clarkston anymore.”
That brought on new questions, so Quincey pushed herself to sit up in the luxuriant canopy bed. “Where are we?” She asked, “What happened?”
Daxton sat up on his knees on the bed and held her face gently in his hands so as to have her eyes meet his face. “You did it,” He said.
She blinked, “Did what?”
“You made it to Locksmouth,” Daxton answered with no small tone of excitement, “You did it, Quincey!”
Shock painted itself over Quincey’s features. She didn’t believe her ears. “I… I made it to Locksmouth?” She asked, “I walked all the way to Locksmouth?! So then, Echelon…!”
“She’s here,” Daxton urged, “She’s here and she’s… well… hold on!”
Daxton sprung from the bed like an excited pup and hurried to the bedroom door to throw it open. “Guys! Guys come quick she’s up!” He shouted out into the hall.
Quincey pulled the blankets up to cover her chest when she heard what sounded like a stampede begin in the house she was at. From another room further away, many feet trampled the hardwood flooring as a great number of people barreled through the hallways. The first to literally slam into the room was Laila, her boots making the loudest racket.
“HAM BONE!” She screamed, “I’m fixin’ to hug you ‘til you die! Get ready!”
Quincey squealed like a pig when Laila launched herself onto the bed, tackling and pinning the girl under her taller body. The giraffe aggressively cuddled her packmate and friend, so ruthlessly loving that Quincey was actually very scared. Quincey slapped Laila’s shoulder blades in an effort to make her release, “tapping out” as it were. Laila didn’t listen, and instead seemed content to try and crush Quincey’s face with hard-pressed, cheek-to-cheek nuzzles.
“Get the hell off of her!” Kenny shouted, grabbing at Laila’s ponytail and giving it a not-very-hard but insistent pull. Laila lifted from Quincey with a “yowch!” before grabbing Kenny and pulling him into the affections, desperately trying to get him to love on Quincey no gentler than she had. The poor girl was starting to get quite literally smothered by affection, and Kenny didn’t seem any more pleased.
“S-Stop!” Quincey gasped, “Laila stop it!”
Laila took this protest to heart more than usual, and all at once she slipped back off the bed and stood up. “Oh I’m sorry,” She said, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
“You lumbering idiot!” Kenny gently pushed off the bed and looked down at Quincey, “She’s just waking up after Duplex ran her into the ground, try and show a little restraint!”
“Jeez-Louise,” Laila crossed her arms, “Sor-ry!”
Kenny closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Are you okay?” He asked, “Your Inkling isn’t giving you any trouble?”
For the first time, Quincey tried to take stock of Duplex. She blinked a few times, staring straight ahead. “N… No,” She said, “I don’t feel it at all.”
“Well, good,” Kenny nodded. Quincey noticed that he was wearing the same outfit he’d left Harbington in – the “Streetwise” apparel from Future Fashions, with the tight black and red pants, the tight white undershirt, and the small black and red jacket. A yellow arrow looped around his undershirt and continued on his jacket under his left arm to end somewhere just on the back. The handcuff that once linked him and her together still dangled from his wrist.
He noticed her staring at him and looked down at himself to pull his shirt collar outward. “Oh, you’ve been out for a while,” He said, “Sam took me to pick something out.”
Quincey knit her brows, “S… Sam?”
“There’s a lot of people for you to meet,” Daxton said as he stood at the foot of the bed, “Including Echelon. But you don’t have to do anything until you’re ready.”
Quincey gave it little thought. “Um, I have to pee, but… tell Echelon I want to see her right away,” She said.
Quincey’s pack exchanged brief looks between each other before nodding to the affirmative. “Sure,” Laila said, “I’ll have her haul her jelly butt down here.”
-
--
-
It wasn’t long before Quincey was done her business and back in bed again. Without clothes, she felt safest all snug under the covers there. That layer of security felt even more necessary as she stared at the Inkling who stood at the bedroom door. Even without her glasses, Quincey could see the creature very clearly. It had this simplistic design, a shadow shaded with pink and bright, and such pink features on its face that it was impossible not to see it. It stood out from everything around it, easily the darkest thing in the room. It was a little intimidating, but her pack stood with it so casually that any fear she may have felt was replaced with gentle curiosity.
“Hello,” Echelon spoke. Her voice was dually rendered much like Quincey’s own when she was inked over by Duplex, “My name is Echelon. What is your name?”
Quincey answered staring like a curious child. “Q-Quincey,” She said, “I’m Quincey.”
“Quincey, before we begin, could I ask you a favour?” Echelon began, much to Quincey’s immediate surprise. “I would like to ask if my host could join us. She’s the alpha of the pack whom I and my friends are hosted by. Whatever you have to say, I believe it would be just as important for her to hear it. Would you allow this?”
Quincey was stuck silent for a moment as she stared at Echelon. She was so… nice. Echelon was comforting in a way Duplex never was. When she asked Quincey for a favour it seemed humble and not forced. When she asked to let her host in, it seemed like the most polite thing imaginable compared to Duplex’s way of forcing her to do things with ultimately empty threats. It was hard not to compare the two Inklings, as Echelon was the only other Inkling Quincey had ever met.
“Wait, you’re…” Quincey blinked, “You’re not taking over your host’s body right now?”
Echelon’s expression changed to curious, then a smile of revelation. “Oh, Quincey,” She couldn’t help but chuckle, “You have a lot to learn about just what an Inkling can be. No, I am separate from my host right now. She trusts me so implicitly, and I her, that I am able to leave her body for periods of time.”
“That’s not normal?” The girl asked, “My Inkling can kind of do that.”
It was Echelon’s turn to be surprised, staring at Quincey with slow, blinking eyes. “It… can?” She asked, “Well, um… Well let’s not get too far into it right now. May Natalie come in?”
“Natalie’s a sweetheart,” Laila added, “She’s just a doll. I think ya’ll are gonna like her.”
Perhaps desperate for that sense of comfort from another human being, Quincey nodded. “Please.”
It didn’t take long for Natalie to enter the room soon after, Echelon turning to address her silently. In a way, Quincey already knew kind of what Natalie looked like by how Echelon looked. She had obviously been some kind of canine with a thin, sort of gymnastic build, though her hair was tied up into dreadlocks, whereas Echelon's was straight.
Natalie was a canine for sure, with dark, slate gray fur. Even with her fuzzy lack of glasses Quincey could see that the dreadlock ponytail atop Natalie’s head was a chocolate brown, and her eyes were a vibrant red. It was hard to see the black shirt she wore because it blended with her fur, and the hat on her head was only barely noticeable after a while. Natalie wore dark red pants, and the profile of her body showed that her butt stuck out a far way. If Quincey had her glasses she would have been able to see her that much more clearly, but for the moment that was all she had.
Natalie stepped forward. “Um, so,” She said, sweet as could be, “You’re Quincey, I take it!”
“Yes, you’re… Natalie?” Quincey bunched the blankets up against her chest.
“That’s me!” Natalie smiled a big, white smile, “I’m Echelon’s partner.”
Quincey’s ears swiveled up in a hurry. “Partner?” She asked, as the term held a heavy, romantic significance.
Echelon chuckled. “Not that kind of partner,” She assured in a voice a lot like Natalie’s but not quite the same, “Natalie and I are…”
“Well, we’re…” Natalie and Echelon looked for a word.
“We’re family,” Echelon nodded with a fond, reminiscing smile.
Natalie looked at her Inkling friend and nodded. “I love Echelon,” She said, “She’s a big part of me now. You may not know it but you have something very special inside of you.”
“But you must be a little frightened or confused by it,” Echelon insisted, “So perhaps we should start at the beginning. I heard you were going to great lengths to find me, and at the behest of your Inkling.”
Echelon approached the side of the bed and looked down at Quincey. “I want you to know how sorry I am that your Inkling has caused you so much trouble,” She frowned, “I’ve heard that it’s not been very… gracious toward its host.”
“They’re not all that bad,” Natalie insisted, “It sounds like you just got a bad one.”
“I’ll say,” Kenny spat form the far side of the room where Quincey’s pack watched on, “Threatening to kill her, taking over her body whenever it wants. It’s been nothing but a giant jerk this whole time.”
Daxton, being the only other person who saw Duplex outside of real-life take-overs, looked to Kenny. “Well it’s a little more complicated than that,” He said.
“Well, I’d like to hear it from Quincey,” Echelon said, “Quincey, what do you know about this… Duplex? None of my friends have ever heard that name before.”
Quincey just sat there trying to adjust to being the center of attention, and meeting two of the nicer people she’d met since that journey had begun. It made her feel uncomfortable and out of place; wary, as if something could go horribly wrong at any moment. “Well,” She spoke softly, “Um… that’s because Duplex is… um, well… new. A new Inkling.”
“New?” Natalie blinked her eyes, looking at Echelon. The black and pink Ink looked just as confused.
“When I fell asleep, Duplex told me things,” Quincey said, “Before it took my body, it… it wasn’t sure it would even make it here. So it told me everything, so I could tell you.”
Echelon carefully moved to the arm chair that Daxton had been sitting in earlier and fit herself in between the rests to settle in. “I’m listening, Quincey,” She said.
“O-Okay,” Quincey wanted to sink under the covers, but instead stayed sat up, “Well, you see…”
-
--
-
Just over a month ago, Osoth invaded planet Earth. She and her army of nightmarish horrors landed in Locksmouth, taking the dome almost completely out of commission in record time, faster than any natural disaster. Osoth was anything but natural… inky, black with a blood red tinge that Inkling was like the personification of death and despair. It took everything Echelon could muster and the discovery of just how deep a bond between a human and an Inkling could be to defeat the monstrous Empress, but they did it. After fighting Osoth for countless centuries, Echelon finally won.
But Osoth wasn’t always the terrifying ruler of the Inklings. At one time just an Inkling like any other, a so-and-so under Queen Arifice’s rule, Osoth believed that Inklings were better than their hosts. They could rule a host’s body, control them, and make them act. Hosts were silly things, irrational at the best of times. They made mistakes, accidents happened, things that their ignorant existence blinded them to.
In many ways, Osoth was the first Inkling to want to make her people more than what they were. She was going to take them out of their sleepy, happy existence and propel them into something far, far greater.
It was easy to believe that she simply wanted to make Inklings better. With a childlike innocence, none would have suspected her ambitions to darken her, none would have suspected the campaign that would follow her coming to power. Two stupid, foolish Inklings believed with such an innocence and admired Osoth for being strong and independent enough to seize the future she envisioned.
Those two Inklings were Tranquil and Dormence.
Their powers weren’t much. Able to lull a creature into a relaxed state, to whisk them away into a sleeping joy, their talents weren’t necessary by old standards. Hosts and Inklings alike were already so calm, so happy, so harmonized that Tranquil and Dormence lost their sense of purpose. They began to feel as if they weren’t… special. A couple of nobodies amidst a sea of their fellows so much more talented and useful than they. There was but one Inkling who called to them, and one Inkling they served. Osoth, the would-be tyrant, was the only Inkling who was ever in need of calming. Tranquil and Dormence clung to her selfishly to fulfill their need to feel useful, to feel wanted.
Many days and many nights Osoth’s desire to lead the Inklings racked her mind, causing her stress. When it became too much, she called on Tranquil and Dormence to ease her pains, to settle her anger toward their ruler for always sitting on her hands. The two underlings were so happy to do this for her, they came running every time. Osoth worked so hard and dealt with so much, they adored her for being so strong as to pursue her goals. They wished they had been strong like that; if they had, things would have been different.
Then, one day, Osoth did it. The old Queen was gone, and the Empress took control.
Tranquil and Dormence, for their part, did everything to service their new ruler and did so with pride. They always believed that Osoth would one day rule and lead them on to bigger and better things. Osoth needed them more than ever when she took on the crown, and the two foolish Inklings answered her every beck and call to soothe the pains brought by the weight of her new seat.
They were able to witness first-hand the horror Osoth unleashed upon the Inklings.
Many still loyal to Arifice were consumed by the Empress and changed, their memories altered so what was reborn swore allegiance to only Osoth. Others too valuable to change were forced into unfitting hosts, wild and animalistic creatures whose bodies changed those Inklings. When they were recovered from their wild shells, their minds had been broken by the beastly urges they had gotten all too used to. Osoth built these unlucky few back up to be her generals and closest confidants.
As Osoth’s control grew, so did her paranoia. She began to doubt all she hadn’t touched and shaped. More and more and more, Osoth consumed and rebirthed her people. She insisted that these new Inklings would become greater, but the cost was who the Inklings had once been. They no longer resembled even the slightest shred of their normal selves. Eventually there came a time where the world Tranquil and Dormence saw was very, very different than what they remembered. It was darker, more malicious, more concentrated on conquest. New worlds, new hosts; the others had been worn out, and the Inklings needed more and more to satisfy them.
It was too late that the two weak, silly Inklings realized that they had believed in lies, fabrications brought by their own mind in a sense of hero-worship. They had wanted to be special, they wanted it so badly they clung to Osoth because they thought her special. Osoth’s big plans, the ones they wanted to be a part of, were plans of tyranny. The world in which Tranquil and Dormence were not special was gone, and a world that threatened their very existence remained. They bowed to Osoth – it wasn’t much of a change from before, but this time it was out of fear.
One misstep, and everything they were would be erased. The irony being that they hadn’t been happy with who they were before then. When Osoth took over they clung to it harder than ever.
How many worlds had it been? How many centuries? Eventually Tranquil and Dormence couldn’t remember. Even at the very limits of their mind, all they saw was Osoth. They had grown used to fear, and they were no longer needed. Osoth took comfort in control, not in them, and so they were easily forgotten. Weak, useless, the two stupid Inklings were of little use to Osoth… but they had been loyal. They remained themselves under Osoth’s not often seen benevolence, but were assured that any suspicion would be met with a fate worse than rebirth.
Tranquil and Dormence were not allowed to be born again, and Osoth took a cruel pleasure in watching them squirm to satisfy her needs… in fear for their very lives.
-
--
-
“What a… bitch,” Daxton forced out the words with venomous hate for Osoth.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Natalie joked, but her tone didn’t come out as playful as she wanted it to.
“And that’s who you were fighting?” Kenny asked, “I don’t blame you.”
Echelon took something resembling a deep breath. “Yes, well… I was allowed to,” She said, no small sense of horror washing over her as it always did when she remembered that her whole rebellion was simply a game Osoth played. It was a game Osoth misjudged thanks to Natalie, but a game she could have ended long before that.
“I don’t recall these Inklings you’re talking about,” Echelon spoke to Quincey, “Though I do feel deeply for them.”
“Yeah, reckon they got the short end,” Laila breathed, “But what do they have to do with it?”
Quincey frowned, a truly remorseful expression. “Well…” She continued.
-
--
-
For countless eons, Tranquil and Dormence served Osoth. They watched as their friends were eaten, changed, and spit back out just to be another soldier in Osoth’s army.
Osoth had taken entire worlds, entire systems, crushing them under her thumb, swearing their people to servitude. She picked them apart, broke them, and threw them away in an effort to find the perfect host. Queen Arifice had such a host – a Queen who lived forever – but Osoth didn’t find one that suited her. Each one she took was driven into the ground. Some withered away faster than others, some didn’t even stand a chance and were broken as soon as the Empress took them – whether they clawed their own eyes out, or simply expired as the life was sucked from them.
Eventually, Echelon rose to rebel, and things began to change.
Inklings were suddenly taking sides in a civil war. While Echelon would end up with Arus, Phactys, Mhend, and Koralo on her side, she once had a great many more allies in her struggle. Those allies were beaten and consumed, whittling away at Echelon’s forces one by one. Every one taken was one more soldier in Osoth’s army at best, at worst it was one more gray thrown into canvas to be a mindless, droning pawn.
The Empress consumed them without care for their conflicting thoughts or feelings towards her rule. And when a new Inkling came out, they were missing all of those aspects.
It must have… congealed inside of her. Because one day Osoth gave yet another birth, but what came out was no Inkling.
An Inkling’s core was pulled from the blackness of Osoth, a core of the brightest, burning white, like a hole burned into old projection film. The very world appeared to shake and jostle around it, fluctuating in a state of chaos. At first, no one knew what this was. A core with no Inkling to house it had never been seen before. Immediately, Osoth was wary. Never before had anything escaped her body. Everything she birthed was carefully crafted to serve, she knew exactly what each subject was. This… thing was an unknown variable. She knew not its purpose, she hadn’t programmed anything into it. It escaped her like a kidney stone, and there it remained.
It didn’t take long to realize just what the core could do. It even looked like a hole ripped between worlds, and it seemed to interact on some level with the fourth dimension. Prana, the precious nutrients an Inkling needed to live, warped around it. With no body to energize, the core had no use for prana other than a simple existence. What it did with the power was more frightening. In an almost anarchic display, the core began to change prana around it. Energy became unstable in its presence – it could be physical or intangible, an energizing boon or a toxic sickness. It shaped constructs out of pure energy, and shattered them just as easily.
Tranquil and Dormence were mystified by this creature. Perhaps the core, which they had named Epheral, could change the way Inklings lived both inside Canvas and out. If it formed a body, or even if it was intelligent enough to learn, it could control its powers and become a benefit. It could make prana batteries, energy cores; Osoth would no longer need to go on her warpath, and things could have returned to normal. Every inkling could have gone dry with enough prana stored up, in small settlements or maybe even a whole world.
It was so hopeful, so stupid, but they had proven they could be swept up in such notions.
Osoth had other plans. This abomination was a direct threat to her, more-so than even Echelon and her silly rebellion. This thing could have unmade her, taken her prana, and she would not allow that. Not daring to consume it, Osoth decreed that it would be sent away. Gatemaker Parthal, one of Osoth’s trusted generals, would create a portal to the deepest, darkest corners of whatever galaxy she wished, and ‘Epheral’ would be cast out. In an empty void, it would have nothing – no prana to live, no energy to sustain itself. It would burn out like a star in the sky.
Tranquil was the first to gather her courage and say that such a hasty course of action was wrong. Dormence, emboldened by its friend’s courage, did the same. Their intent was innocent – even if they meant nothing, even if they were unimportant, they wanted someone to hear what they thought. It was the biggest mistake they had ever made.
Before they knew what happened, they too were forced through that portal with Epheral. Osoth, flown into a rage by their sudden treachery, hatefully sent them to their deaths in the deep recesses of space.
They should have died. When that portal closed and their homes were gone, the sheer forces of nature should have torn them apart. The dead, emptiness of space should have stolen them from existence, and all because they dared to think what they thought ever really mattered. It hadn’t before, and it hadn’t then, yet they had been galvanized. Perhaps it was Echelon’s doing. Seeing other Inklings rise up with a shred of independence could have been very uplifting… but it was more likely that Tranquil and Dormence were simply tired. They were tired of being nothing in the midst of it all.
Well, they could get used to the idea of being nothing and being dead.
Epheral, however, with its strange powers, did not allow this. It was unknown to the Inkling pair how a simple, seemingly non-sentient core could act as if it had a clear sense of self-preservation, but it did. It used what prana it could to keep them alive as they floated through space. Pulling energy from seemingly unlikely places. It kept them going.
After years, it felt as if they had been drifting in a purposeful direction. They found a floating bit of space rock and attached themselves to it. More years later, they found a world. They landed on that world to discover it ravaged, torn apart, with the tell-tale signs that Osoth had once been there. Their very existence had been blasted back to the Stone Age. The inhabitants, controlled by Inklings, waited to be called upon by the evil Empress to join her armies. Tranquil and Dormence took hosts on this strange world and hid Epheral away.
Epheral continued to draw prana, now from renewed sources. With its connection to Tranquil and Dormence, it urged the Inklings to bring Osoth’s soldiers to it. They did, one at a time, slowly and surely for years. Every one brought to Epheral was sucked completely dry of its prana, leaving nothing behind. Epheral grew more powerful with every victim, and the two stupid inklings came to realize that, while the intent was to bring them back to Canvas and return them home, Epheral was no more kind than Osoth.
That core took worlds. When it was finished with one, it would blast off to another. Eventually it became adept at sniffing out where Osoth’s sticky black tendrils had been, and it took special delight in utterly erasing the very fabric of existence in every one of those places. It sucked up every last iota of prana for itself, only sharing with its confidants, sometimes turning entire dimensions into… blank nothingness.
Epheral didn’t simply want to return home. It dawned on Tranquil and Dormence that Epheral, in its strange, voiceless way, wanted to destroy Osoth for what she did.
Even with all the wrongs they had suffered, the two foolish Inklings did not want a second Osoth to happen, and so they tried to reason with it.
Once again, they were punished. When Epheral gives, Epheral can take away.
Tranquil and Dormence, seen as Osoth sympathizers, were sucked nearly dry of prana and sent into space, hurdling toward another world to fend for themselves.
It was hopeless then. Too many times had they tried to do the right thing and all it ended up with was their near demise. They didn’t want to die, they never wanted to die. They just wanted to feel important, they wanted to be helpful, to find some sense of purpose with their lives that would make them feel… accomplished. It was unfair that things never went their way.
They held each other tightly as they flew through space and time, the prana given to that burning away quickly. They squeezed one another, as that was all they had. They always had each other, and they could both feel stupid and useless together. Their togetherness was everything, and they squeezed tighter and tighter together until they just… melted into one another.
Their bodies had been torn and severed, split apart and ripped up. What they could have called an arm or a leg spit away from them and if they didn’t do anything, they’d simply be gone. There was nothing more they could do but hold one another close and do what their hosts sometimes called “pray.” And in doing so, their bodies took on one another’s, their colours blending together and swirling around amidst one another, mixing like ugly paints to a shade of gray that shined like silver, almost prismatic in a reflective light.
They became something else entirely. Two halves formed one whole. Tranquil and Dormence had become Duplex.
Had it not been for this, their trip would have ended in their untimely demise. Instead, their trip landed them on the planet Earth in the year 2541, the year Osoth invaded Locksmouth and was defeated by Echelon.
-
--
-
“The rest is, as they say…” Quincey finished with a sad shrug, “History.”
Everyone in the room stared at Quincey in stunned silence. Even Echelon had a look on her face reflective of utter awe.
“A core… with no inkling?” Natalie asked after catching her breath, “Epheral is just a core?”
Echelon stood and shook her head. “That… it shouldn’t be possible,” She said.
“Inklings don’t have rules, you said so yourself,” Natalie interjected, “They only follow the rules of whatever world they’re in. Who says they can’t do that?”
“And two Inklings joining together?” Echelon crossed her arms, deeply perplexed, “That shouldn’t be possible either.”
“But it did happen,” Natalie said as she looked to Quincey, “Didn’t it?”
“That’s… what Duplex told me when it talked to me in my dreams in Clarkston,” Quincey explained, “That’s why it needed to get to you quickly. It says that it’s… dying.”
The bombshells just kept coming, and everyone in the room stared at her again. “What?!”
“It’s… it’s… i-it’s unstable!” Quincey pawed her own chest as if trying to feel for Duplex, “It’s sick. You’re right, it shouldn’t be able to do what it did but it did and now it’s coming back apart. It’s so weak… what happened to it after it took my body in Clarkston?”
Quincey looked to her friends for answers. Kenny spoke up. “It pushed you too hard and… well it was like it was falling apart,” He blinked in sudden realization, “Just falling off you, dripping like it was melting or something.”
Echelon struggled for her words. “Then what it says is true, or at least some of it,” She suggested, “In the end, it’s very weak… is it still there at all?”
“I don’t know,” Quincey said, “I don’t feel it!”
Echelon raised her hands in part to stop the murmurs of the small gathering of teenagers and to calm her own nerves. “Quincey if that is the case…” She lowered her hands, “Then I wouldn’t be able to remove it from your body without ending its life.”
That being the entire reason Quincey even made the perilous journey in the first place, her face reflected her utter dismay. Her pack, too, looked shocked and even angry that such a thing was true.
“I will do it,” Echelon frowned, her eyes forming downward ‘U’s on her face, “If you truly want Duplex out of your body, then I will remove it. I will respect whatever decision you make. No girl should be shouldered with this sort of burden, and I would not blame you for a moment if you wanted to be rid of it.”
“It’s just like with Bo…” Natalie spoke, but mostly to herself.
Quincey’s head slowly dropped and she stared at her shape under the covers. “It would die if I let it go?” She asked, “After all that it would… just die?”
“Whoa, whoa,” Laila butt in, “That is messed up!”
“You can’t just guilt-trip her like that!” Kenny shouted.
“It’s simply the reality of the situation,” Echelon said.
Natalie turned to Quincey’s friends. “The Inkling’s just too weak to survive being separated. If it was even a bit stronger we could do it no problem,” She said, “And maybe it’ll get better. Quincey just has to keep it in her for a little while longer.”
“Besides, it doesn’t sound… bad,” Daxton reasoned, rubbing his chin, “It sounds like it was just super desperate.”
“You’re always taking the side of pretty girls,” Kenny threw his hand out in a gesture toward Natalie, who blushed, “You can’t seriously… what if something happens?! What if that thing dies inside her, huh?”
He turned to Natalie then, “What happens if that thing dies inside her?”
Natalie blinked a few times and looked at her inky double.
“An Inking bonds with its host,” Echelon explained, “If it dies inside Quincey, then it’s just that… it dies. This is very unlikely because a host provides an Inkling with what it needs to live. What comes into question is how well an… ‘Impure’ Inkling can retain it, or how much it needs. In the end, Duplex may simply expire on its own. Quincey would be okay, though she would feel some after-effects.”
“Think of it like taking a part of you, and ripping it out,” Natalie said, “When Echelon left me, I felt really empty inside, like… lonely.”
“So that’s it?” Kenny asked, “She’d feel lonely? That’s it?”
Quincey had been quietly following the discussion. She squeezed the blankets tighter in her hands. “But I don’t want anything to die…” She said.
“Even after it was threatenin’ ya’ll?” Laila asked, putting her hands on her hips with a slightly dumbfounded expression on her face, “Why, that does sound like somethin’ you’d say.”
Daxton stepped forward and climbed onto the bed with Quincey. He settled in and wrapped his arms around her warmly. “We’re with you no matter what,” He said.
“I just want this whole thing over with,” Kenny groaned, “What do we do if she keeps it?”
“When the Inkling shows signs of recovery, I’ll take it back,” Echelon explained, “I wouldn’t dream of inconveniencing you anymore.”
Ears perked up around the bedroom when they caught the sad little whimpers of a crying girl. Quincey, too overwhelmed with feelings, couldn’t hold it in any longer and she cried into Daxton’s shoulder again. Everyone frowned. Daxton gently stroked her back and tried to soothe her as best he could while everyone else just stood there feeling sorry for the girl. Once again, she was presented with a decision that wasn’t a decision at all, not for her. But instead of her life on the line, she was being forced to decide the fate of another.
It was quiet for the longest time, aside from the sobbing. Eventually even that stopped, and Quincey wiped her nose and her eyes off on Daxton’s shirt before she looked up. “I… I can’t,” She said.
Echelon bowed her head. She couldn’t imagine what the girl had gone through, least of all at the hands of her fellow human. At the root of it, Duplex was the cause. Without it, the girl could go back to a normal life. “Very well,” The Inkling said, surprisingly calm. She reached out for Quincey slowly to take her Inkling away.
“I can’t let it die,” Quincey reiterated, sitting up suddenly, “That… after everything it’s been through…”
Daxton sat back and looked Quincey in the eye. “Are you sure?”
“I’m the last person,” Quincey said, “It trusted Osoth, it trusted Epheral… I’m the last person that can make it right.”
Laila stared in surprise, her brows knitting as her eyes got all moist and shiny. “Y’little piglet…” She said, “You’ll really…?”
Kenny crossed his arms, staring at Quincey long and hard. “You just can’t give up on anyone, can you?” He asked.
Quincey placed her hand on Daxton’s cheek and stroked fondly. “I… guess not,” She said, a smile creeping onto her lips.
Natalie, for her part, smiled in the face of something so inspiring. “Wow,” She said, “Quincey, that’s… I mean, we’ve just met but I… that’s really something.”
“It is,” Echelon agreed, “Earth really needs more people like you.”
“It’s, I…” Quincey struggled for words, “I don’t know what to do…”
A rumbling borborygmus sounded out to interrupt the moment, coming from the pudgy pig in the bed. Quincey blushed heavily.
“I guess dinner’s a good start,” Natalie smiled somewhat bashfully herself, “Hey, when you’re ready, come on down and meet my friends. I’ll see if Kelvalde is making something tasty for you. You’re in his apartment, by the way, just so you know.”
“Oh, um, I’ll… say thank you,” Quincey said.
“I’ll send Sam up, she’ll help you pick out some clothes to wear,” The wolf girl said before she departed, leaving down the hall.
“You’re very brave, Quincey,” Echelon said, “I’ll join Natalie. You simply rest, and we’ll figure out what to do about getting you home.”
“And what to do about Epheral,” The Inkling pondered as she left.
-
--
-
“Oh stop, I heard from your friends that you like sweaters!”
“I do, I mean, it’s nice, but…”
“I think you look fabulous, darling! Why you just have to show off those adorable freckles of yours.”
“These pants are just…”
“They’re comfortable, no? Very maneuverable, and they pull in just the right places!”
“They are comfortable… Oh! I-I don’t mean to complain I’m very happy you went through all this trouble… It’s just, um, my belly is kind of…”
“Oh sweetheart don’t worry about that! You look fantastic. Cute as a button! Now hurry along downstairs, we’re having Dijon Croque Monsieur with a side of mixed veggies!”
“Oh, that does sound good. I’m so hungry.”
“Then let’s go!”
Meeting Samantha Masterson in such a set-up was an experience that few people had been exposed to. Quincey discovered rather quickly that the little white bat with the beautifully done blonde hair was a true fashionista. She used seasonal terms as adjectives for people to match their fashion, and apparently Quincey was “an autumn.” Sam herself dressed like she jumped right off of an advertisement for seasonal fashion, dressing in modest “casual chic,” with pastel capris and nice shoes and a cute little tank top and a number of accessories pinned, buttoned, or worn where appropriate. She was very small too, much smaller than Quincey was, and it was hard not to find her and her enthusiasm for fashion adorable.
Still, she presented a great argument for not finding it adorable when she tore apart Kelvalde’s walk-in closet to find something just perfect for Quincey to wear. By the time she was done, the bed was covered in clothes.
But Quincey, all showered, cleaned, brushed and done up, did enter the dining room feeling refreshed. She had been given new glasses fit for her prescription, and she was dressed in real threadlink clothing instead of the itchy attire of a Clarkston settler. A richly forest green sweater was cropped around her torso, the neckline wrapped around her arms to expose her shoulders. The sleeves were long, but the bottom was short, covering only a little more than her chest. Underneath it was slate gray tank top fit tightly up high, the straps barely obscuring her pink, freckled shoulders, and loose down below so the roundness of her tummy was only a little obscured.
Her pants were a maroon number, a dark colour to make her dazzling red hair shine in comparison. The outer leg had a number of openings to show off her skin, little well-tailored holes with hard metal studs to give them the illusion of being buttoned at either end. The seams of her pants wrapped around her natural curves in an optical trick to guide the eye, the fabric tight to lift and accentuate her bottom. She looked very natural, very homely.
Though she did worry that the tank top didn’t cover enough of her stomach. It felt like it would lift too high and she’d hang out by accident.
She entered into the dining room to a number of unfamiliar faces. Natalie and her own pack she recognized, but there were even more she didn’t. A nerdy ferret boy, a cutely-dressed but decidedly tough-looking feline, a handsome husky, and a boy she wanted to say was an iguana were all waiting expectantly for her arrival. A young billy goat and tiger pair of children helped set up the table as the handsome husky brought out serving dishes stacked with a good, hearty meal that Quincey could smell from her lent bedroom. But even her growling stomach couldn’t distract her from one other body in the room.
That body was pre-splice. The young man in question stared at Quincey as much as she stared at him. He had long red hair and green eyes kind of like she did. He was covered in skin – real human skin from before animal DNA was introduced into the genome. He was dressed in some tight red t-shirt that clung to his every contour and showed off a strong chest, and equally tight black pants that came up a little higher to wrap a sash around his abdomen. Quincey had never seen anything like him before in the living. A hologram, maybe, and pictures in History files, but never “in the flesh” quite so literally.
People noticed how she stared, and they chuckled in spite of it.
“Quincey,” Natalie announced from where she leaned over the table to place silverware around the plates, “Meet Jacent Danger.”
“C… Captain Comet,” Quincey sputtered.
Jacent’s eyebrows rose. “You know of the stories?”
“There aren’t many pre-splice stories, fictional or not, that are available in entirely graphic form!” Quincey couldn’t hide her bewildered excitement, “You have… hundreds of issues! Of course I know about you!”
“She’s a history buff,” Daxton supplied from his seat, “Super into ancient history.”
Quincey moved around the large dining table and made a beeline for Jacent. She stood before him with all the trappings of a teenage girl staring at a celebrity.
“So you like the Cap too, huh?” Carrie, the feline Quincey didn’t recognize, pushed her chair onto two legs and watched with her hands behind her head.
Natalie shuffled around the table putting forks and knives on the last few plates set up by her young friends. When she leaned over the table, the two half-moons of her thick backside jut and jiggled like gelatin. “I’m starting to like this girl more and more,” She smiled.
“You’re… real?” Quincey asked, leaning toward Jacent. The older teen felt more than a little uncomfortable from her gawking, no matter how often he was gawked at.
“Well, yes,” Jacent tilted his head with a polite smile, “If it would help I could prick my finger or something.”
Quincey gingerly reached out and poked Jacent’s chest, much to the boy’s surprise. She pulled back swiftly as if she’d touched a hot kettle and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. Then she unclasped them and started to clap. “You’re a really real pre-splice human in the real actual flesh!” She gushed, “I heard about you on the news but I thought maybe it was something… something different!”
“Like a robot?” Max, the reptilian boy grinned. He held his arms out stiffly in his chair and began making jerky, robotic motions. “Sent from, the past, to protect, the future,” He spoke in fluctuating tones.
“I assure you I’m no robot,” Jacent held out his hand in greeting, “It’s nice to meet you. As my friend said, I’m Jacent.”
Quincey squeaked before she carefully reached out and took hold for a polite handshake. “Quincey! Quincey Abram!” She supplied.
Jacent smiled, “It’s always nice to meet a fan, Quincey.”
The moment was broken by another loud rumble of the tummy. Everyone looked around the room at one another, though some knew exactly where it came from.
“… Well it wasn’t me!” Carrie exclaimed.
The room lit up with a warm laughter before Jacent smiled knowingly at Quincey. “Please,” He said, “Sit down. You must be famished after your long journey.”
Quincey sat at one side of the long dining table. Made of wood, the surface polished, and the ends trimmed with impressive décor, the table was quite nice; as were the chairs, cushioned on their seats and backs. Chandelier lighting looked lovely, hanging crystal from the ceiling, with a china hutch tucked into a side of the room, and floral displays on decorative stands made the corners seem less dull.
The food was delicious. Kelvalde, who was the handsome husky from before, was quite the cook. Quincey’s pack seemed very comfortable while Natalie’s pack were nice and welcoming, not shy of letting Quincey see little glimpses into their circle.
They made jokes at Jacent’s expense about the fact that they were eating what was essentially fancy grilled cheese sandwiches with ham on them. Seeing as how Quincey was of a porcine subspecies, Natalie and her group joked as if the girl were engaging in savage cannibalism like some barbarian. Jacent was wise to the new diet of post-splice life, however, and simply took the jokes with dignity. He insisted that if Quincey were a barbarian, he would be able to handle such a thing with ease. He had, after all, taken out the historically incorrect “Draugr,” a self-proclaimed street barbarian in issue #117 of his comic series.
Natalie’s pack were an interesting bunch. Aside the alpha wolf herself was Carrie Oakenfield. Carrie was a pure white, burly cat and the ‘beta’ of the pack - the second-in-command. Her powder blue hair was lovely, curled with tremendous effort into large dual corkscrews behind her. She was so surly, so direct and up front. It was a personality that Quincey was more than familiar with considering her own pack. For being that way, Carrie’s favourite outfit was a schoolgirl look, traditional from ancient Japanese culture. She wore a black one with white trim, a purple skirt, and long socks.
Quincey knew the look well. She had a more traditional white one with a blue skirt tucked into her closet back at home.
Erwin Goldstein was a smaller, slinkier ferret boy with rusty red curls on his head and dark speckles in his fur. He wasn’t meek but he wasn’t the most outspoken of the group and wore big, dorky glasses like Quincey’s. He was the smart one and he wasn’t shy on playing the part, but he did get his share of teasing for supposedly being a bit… rambunctious, in a perverted sort of way. He was sweet though.
Max Tangent was a truly random boy. He said silly things and made countless references to things that only Quincey, Jacent, and surprisingly Kelvalde would even know about. He had these big blue eyes that looked out at everything with an excitement the others didn’t share. As what looked like an iguana, he was green from head to toe and had darker green spines that lined his back starting at the top of his head. Quincey learned that shorts and a t-shirt were what he always seemed to go with, and he never, ever wore socks and rarely wore shoes.
Sam, she had met, and she was rather fond of. She was so posh, sophisticated, and always careful to say what she meant to say. The little bat seemed especially fond of Jacent, Quincey could tell, and Jacent seemed fond of her. They didn’t act like a couple, but they seemed… interested in one another. It was sweet to watch them when they thought no one was looking.
The two younger ones were named Aren and Gren – a tiger boy and a billy goat girl, respectively. They were very mature for their age, but they still showed their youthfulness at times when they would bicker. They looked to Natalie and Carrie with such adoration, though… admittedly the little brunette tiger boy spent very little time looking above their necks. He was a young boy, after all. The gothic-dressed, blonde-haired Gren always seemed less than impressed with this.
All of them were friendly toward Quincey, which was something Kenny could have taken to heart. Quincey wasn’t sure how long she was unconscious but it seemed like her pack and Natalie’s got along for the most part. Kenny remained his prickly self, but Laila and Daxton got along great with the others. It made her happy to see humans and inked getting along so well. It made her feel like things wouldn’t be so bad.
“So, didn’t you guys lose your PETs on the way here?” Erwin asked amidst the meal.
“Yeah,” Daxton sighed, “Well I actually threw mine away.”
“Ours got washed away in the river,” Kenny explained, gesturing to either side of him at Laila and Quincey, “All three of ours.”
“Why ever would you throw away your PET?” Sam asked Daxton, “I couldn’t imagine simply getting rid of it like that, it’s far too important!”
“It could have been traced, that’s all,” Daxton shrugged, “And we couldn’t get caught and brought back home, especially now that we know we really did have to get here as fast as possible.”
“Well you can borrow mine if you wanna call your parents!” Max brandished his own red plastic PET proudly.
“Yeah, you guys must really miss them,” Natalie added, “You should call them.”
“You bet’cher sweet butt we’ll call ‘em,” Laila said, “Right after dinner.”
At the end of the table with Kelvalde, Gren and Aren sat flanking the husky. Aren, curious as ever, swallowed a bite of his food and washed it down with some juice from a glass held in both his little hands. When he put it back down, he spoke, “Laila, why do you talk like that?”
Most of Quincey’s pack looked confused. Natalie was the first to sit up and lean forward to shoot Aren a look. “Aren!” She barked, “Rude!”
The boy shrunk back in his seat. “Sorry,” He meekly apologized, “I didn’t mean to.”
Laila leaned her elbow on that table and waved her hand toward Aren. “Pff! Oh it ain’t nothin’,” Laila shook her head, “Ain’t nobody else talkin’ like me, even out in ol’ Harbington. It is what we call a ‘Southern Dialect,’ little feller. Countryisms! Why, I been talkin’ like this since I could properly pick eggs out of the pod!”
“A Southern Dialect? But you’re not from the south,” Aren peered curiously at the giraffe.
“Nah, I ain’t, but my great, great, great, great, greatgreatgreat ancestors were!” Laila beamed, “My family runs Sweet Acres back in Harby. Lavinia lineage, plucked straight from the deep south!”
Carrie craned her hands under her chin as she pondered. “Sweet Acres, isn’t that…?”
“Only one of the best dang agricultural centers in the dome limits!” Laila puffed out her chest, “We grow everythin’! Beef, pork, poultry, eggs, milk, vegetables, grain, artificial fish, you name it! We got a whoppin’ three hanging garden facilities and a good two hundred acres on the ground. We’re one of the biggest employers in Harbington! ‘Cause people need jobs and we believe in a personal touch. Best dang food you’re ever gonna eat, I reckon.”
“The reason, little buck, that I talk like this is because I grew up learnin’ that my ancestors were the nicest, rootin’-est, tootin’-est, most hospitable folks you ever would meet. I’m proud of my family and its big ol’ farm and I wanted to be more like my elders! Figured why not start talkin’ like ‘em?” Laila grinned proudly.
“Wow, that’s so cool!” Gren got swept into the theatrics, “Your family runs a huge farm?”
“Darn right,” Laila nodded, “Why, a big helpin’ of our food gets shipped out here every harvest!”
“You’re a grade-A Harbington bumpkin,” Carrie smirked.
“Oh please,” Natalie giggled, leaning into her girlfriend and pushing her a bit, “You’re just missing a piece of straw between your teeth.”
Carrie pushed back on Natalie and chuffed. “Shut up,” She smiled.
Laila finished her food and picked up her napkin to wipe off her face. When she brought it down she let out quite the loud belch! Poor Sam’s ears flew up quickly before she cringed. “Ewww,” The little bat whined, “Such manners!”
“Compliments to the chef!” Laila beamed.
Kelvalde, at his end of the table, burst into laughter. He leaned back and smacked one of his legs before he settled in again, collecting himself. “I’m honored by your burps,” He said.
Kenny wiped off his face too. “Sorry, she’s kind of weird,” He said.
“Well, I’d say that makes her fit in quite nicely around here,” Kelvalde smiled.
“In some cultures, back in my time, belches were considered respectful at the end of a meal,” Jacent gently added, “It lets the people who served you know that you’re full, and enjoyed your food.”
“Better out than in!” Max decreed, sucking in a huge, deep breath.
“Don’t you dare!” Sam practically leapt into the boy’s lap to squeeze his lips shut.
Quincey couldn’t stop smiling. After walking so long and going through so much, this was exactly the kind of moment she needed. It wasn’t just that, but she deserved it. Her friends, new friends, people sitting and having a good meal and having a good time… That was what she lived for. It was enough to make her forget about the Inklings for a while, to forget about Epheral, and to forget about the armed soldiers who pursued her. If she thought about it, having a meal with her friends was all she ever wanted since before Duplex had gotten under her skin.
Now she had these new friends. Maybe it was a bit early to be calling them that, but they also had Inklings of their own. She wanted to share a connection with them, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she enjoyed their company based on what she’d already seen. These other kids were good people. They may not have been quite what she imagined when she thought of soldiers who fought back an evil tyrant… but they were exactly the way she never knew she wanted them to be.
“Well, I suppose the meal’s about done,” Natalie looked to everyone’s plates. Sam was daintily finishing off her last bite, “How about we call your parents?”
“Hold on,” Kelvalde said as he stared at the flexiglass screen of his own PET, “… I think you want to see this.”
-
--
-
The news broadcast displayed the town center of Harbington – a location at the very heart of the dome, where a monument had been constructed in the name of the dome founders. The obelisk carving stood on a risen, circular platform of finely worked and polished stone topped by laminate and cut with square creases. Steps led to the monument from every cardinal direction, and the grounds around it had been finely kept and landscaped, a brilliant variety of trees and flowers acting as decorum for the public space. It was there that Harbington held their Town Meets and many decisions of the Dome Council had come to pass.
The citizens gathered restlessly around the monument in a sea of bodies. Surrounding them were the armed men and women who the teenagers from Harbington had become rather acquainted with. They wore an antiquated sort of uniform reminiscent of Special Forces units from before the Great Disarming, openly carried their weapons, and maintained a perimeter of bodily presence and modified PeTra vehicles around the crowd. The crowd seemed both uneasy and subdued among the soldiers.
Standing higher than the crowd upon the platform for the Harbington Central Monument were all but one of the Dome Arbitrators. Six in total stood in a line, perhaps for the inspection and approval of the citizens. The white feline, Arbitrator Velvet; the elder woodpecker, Arbitrator Derrick; the bovine, Arbitrator Newin; the diminutive elephant, Arbitrator Ozwell; the fair flamingo, Arbitrator Crystal; and the gentle anteater, Arbitrator Zachery; all save for the young buck, Arbitrator Kemberge, stood in silence waiting for the speaker William Farcris to settle the crowd. To the side stood another man joined by armed security, one unfamiliar to the dome. The stern-looking snow owl was dressed similarly to the soldiers in dark combat fatigues, and waited patiently for things to get underway.
“I’m Kelly Carson with the Harbington Monitor, and I join you live from Harbington Dome where an emergency Town Meet has been called in the wake of an alien incident that took place early yesterday morning,” The Harbington newscaster said, her transparent visage boxed into a corner of the screen.
“Yes, according to police reports, early yesterday morning at approximately 9:43 a.m. sightings of the same alien creatures that once terrified Locksmouth Dome a month ago were reported to the local police in what the department is calling ‘a cascade,’” Kelly Carson reported, “Strange multi-legged creatures, gelatinous blobs, red ogres, and other creatures had been reportedly causing havoc in the supposedly locked-down dome city. Police were quick to respond, but lacked the manpower sufficient to deal with the creatures, which was when a strange, well-organized group arrived toting weaponry thought illegal.”
The teens from Locksmouth and Harbington watched the broadcast with confused and suspicious faces. Jacent paid careful attention to every word the reporter said, and Kelvalde sank into silent contemplation as the broadcast played out.
“It was with the help of this group that the dome was brought back under control of local law enforcement, and the state of emergency was settled,” The reporter said, “Now, after over twenty-four hours, we are finally going to hear a statement from a representative of the mystery vigilante group. On top of this, we are told that a dome-wide vote will take place to determine just what steps will be taken to toward the future regarding the alien invaders. We bring this to you live as it happens from Harbington dome.”
The view changed from a wide shot of nearly the entire monument to a close-up of the saggy, fishy face of William Farcris. The trout raised his hands to settle the crowd. “Quiet please, quiet please,” He insisted, “If everyone would settle, we will get this Town Meet underway. Your attention, if you would please.”
The crowd quieted its murmurs and all attention was turned to the makeshift stage.
“As you well know, our dome was struck by a state of emergency yesterday morning, after we had believed ourselves to under a dome-wide lockdown. This came on the heels of the discovery of not only foreign aliens that had undoubtedly wandered over after the Locksmouth Incident, but also upon the discovery of a creature known as an ‘Inkling’ who had inhabited the body of a local teenage girl,” the Speaker continued, “When the aliens struck our dome yesterday just before 10 a.m., we were caught completely off guard.”
Speaker Farcris gestured. In the air projected a large-scale image of one of Harbington dome’s many emergency tunnels. Large blast doors had been secured in the tunnels to control entry to and from the outside, and one such door was revealed to have been destroyed. Seemingly detached from their hinges, the thick doors lay upon the ground dented and warped. The angle suggested surveillance footage that had been snapped and pulled in regards to the incident in question.
“The eastern escape tunnels are believed to be the point of entry for these creatures,” Speaker Farcris explained, “The aliens barged through and the resulting attack incapacitated the officers on duty. From there they were able to spread out unnoticed until they reached the surface, becoming a threat to our safety. Our local police were unable to contain the beasts, being vastly overpowered by them. It was only by the graces of a mysterious group that we were saved. You have no doubt noticed the soldiers among our city streets and many of you have likely encountered them when being led to shelter. We are pleased to announce that a representative of this group will now come forward to address your concerns of their occupation of our city.”
Gesturing to the snow owl standing off to the side, Speaker Farcris introduced him, “Ladies and gentlemen, Cyril Page.”
Cyril was met with no applause as he stepped forward and took center stage, standing before the central monument with a bold posture and his hands folded behind his back.
“Greetings citizens of Harbington dome,” He began, “As you heard my name is Cyril Page, and I represent the group who assisted in protecting you from the alien incursion.”
“I don’t like this guy already,” Natalie spoke.
Carrie sniffed. “Yeah, he has the ‘I’m a bad guy’ vibe,” She said.
“Is that a real army?” Aren asked curiously.
“Shh,” Jacent hushed the group.
Returning their attention to the broadcast, Cyril was still amidst his speech. “The group I represent has, admittedly, operated in the shadows for reasons you have no doubt devised for yourselves,” He said, “We call ourselves ‘Eos.’ We were not organized by any ruling council or government, but rather by private interest parties. Our interest is safety. We had formed as a simple contingency – if war ever came to the people, we aimed to provide protection to those who may be affected negatively by the unforeseen circumstance. This, thankfully, never came to pass and our operations have remained frozen for many decades.”
Cyril released his hands from behind his back and rested them at his sides to speak frankly. “What has occurred, none of us could have predicted,” He said, “No one would have suspected that alien creatures would invade our planet Earth with the intent to conquer. When Locksmouth was beset by Osoth and her Inkling race, we were woefully unprepared for the assault. We were fortunate to come out the other end safely. But since that time, alien phenomena continue to occur throughout the Locksmouth area and have clearly bled out in this direction, toward Harbington dome.”
“We will not be unprepared again,” Cyril returned his hands behind his back and straightened his posture, pushing out his chest, “Eos is named after ‘eosinophil granulocyte,’ the white blood cell in the human body, our human bodies, designed to confront various threats to us. One such threat are major parasites, of which these Inklings are to our planet Earth. They have arrived to settle among our people after a failed attempt to enslave us to their will. They would have us host them, they would live under our skin, and use us for their own means. They bear terrifying power, and brought with them unfamiliar species to unbalance our planet’s natural ecosystem.”
“Not too long ago, an incident occurred in Locksmouth dome,” Cyril took an unsteady breath before continuing, “The local shopping mall… came to life. The building itself animated and fighting broke out where these… Inkling invaders battled what looked like a golem made from the building’s parts. Caught in the crossfire was one young man who… unfortunately, lost his life.”
The Locksmouth teens practically sprung from their seats in an outrage. Erwin in particular slammed his hands on the table, shaking the dishes set upon it. “Kei’s not dead!!” He tried shouting through the screen.
“The mall came to life?!” Kenny rose his voice above the protesting Locksmouth teens.
“Settle down,” Kelvalde said as he crossed his arms, “We need to hear where he’s going with this.”
Cyril seemed to have difficulty continuing. It was difficult to maintain composure when discussing such bizarre events, but he managed. “We understand that one of these creatures has taken one Quincey Abram from your fold,” He said, “This puts her in as much danger as that boy. Eos’ offer is this: we will see her returned to this dome, and we will repel these Inklings before they can cause us any further harm. We have the tools to accomplish this, and we offer to use them to protect you from any danger these creatures pose.”
“We ask only one thing in return,” Cyril addressed the crowd with a confident stare, “Allow us to remain here in Harbington. Only by setting our occupancy here can we truly protect you.”
“Hm,” Jacent hummed in thought, “Occupying Harbington dome…”
“They can’t just do that,” Carrie piped up, “The other domes would come down so hard on them it wouldn’t even be funny. There’s no way they can be so stupid as to go for it.”
“The man raises some good points,” Kevade conceded, “It’s well-crafted propaganda. Just enough truth to hide the outright lies.”
“Well we can prove that Kei’s fine! And Quincey’s fine too!” Erwin said, throwing his arm out to gesture at the pudgy porcine who sat in her seat at the dining table no less stunned then they, “See? She’s just fine!”
“But…” Natalie lowered her gaze from the holoscreen to stare at a spot on the floor, “But Kei was declared dead, and because of Duplex, Quincey is…”
“N-Naw, she’s fine!” Laila leaned over the back of Quincey’s chair and wrapped her arms around the pig, “She’s…”
“No, Laila, Natalie’s right…” Quincey sighed, “Duplex is broken, and because of that, I’m not giving it up. And if I’m not giving it up, I don’t know if they’re going to like that.”
“Hold on just a while longer,” Jacent spoke up, “They’re voting on whether or not to keep this ‘Eos’ around.”
The voting was taking place, a projected holoscreen ready and waiting to reveal the results as Harbington looked to their PETs and made their voices heard. The votes trickled in one bit at a time, and for several long, dragging minutes the dome was silent. It was no small choice to make: if Harbington voted to keep Eos around it meant blatantly casting aside the global agreement that settled the Great Disarm. Carrie was correct in saying that other domes would take notice of such an act and react accordingly. On the other hand, aliens had already begun to escape Locksmouth’s borders. The idea that Inklings and their ilk were entirely one dome’s problem had been proven false. The danger was more than real and it had already trounced their flower gardens and damaged their storefront property.
Natalie and her pack, Quincey and her pack, they all waited with baited breath as if they too were voting. Had Quincey, Daxton, Laila, and Kenny had their PETs on them, they could have cast their votes; but those had all been lost. All they could do was wait.
They weren’t the only ones watching. The broadcast had gotten the attention of Locksmouth as a whole. Most people couldn’t believe what they were seeing. It didn’t look like simple protection, the words spoken weren’t simple assurances… they were denunciations. To Eos, Inklings weren’t to be trusted. Danger followed them wherever they went, and evidence of their misdeeds only stacked higher as time went on. The very idea opened wounds that had only freshly been closed. Cyril’s words echoed in Locksmouth, picked up by a minority.
“This sounds like war,” Kelvalde shook his head, “These people want to start something.”
“Against… us!” Sam blinked her eyes several times.
Max sunk in his seat, poking his index fingers together. “But I don’t want to fight people,” He said, “We save people!”
“Yeah I don’t think we’re all that interested in fighting you either,” Daxton cleared his throat.
“If it ain’t farmin’, OCin’, eatin’ or sleepin’, I don’t much care for it!” Laila concurred.
As the voting came to a close, Arbitrator Velvet stepped forward. She looked extravagant in her flowy violet dress and head wrap, her white fur brushed to luxuriance. “We, the Arbitrators, cannot ignore the fact that these alien creatures pose a direct threat to our livelihood,” She announced, “Before their arrival, we never had to worry about monsters attacking us in our homes. Had they never arrived, we would still be at peace. That is why, with the exception of Arbitrator Ozwell, and in the absence of Arbitrator Kemberge… we have voted in favour of maintaining a working relationship with this… Eos.”
The crowd did not seem as surprised about such a declaration as it should have. That was a grim sign.
“Should the people wish it, the Eos group will remain in Harbington and act as an added layer of protection from the alien threat,” Speaker Farcris said, “They will maintain a presence, and we will deal with the consequences of their methods. If a majority are opposed, the Eos group will be removed from Harbington, their assets seized.”
“And the decision is…”
Everyone’s attention turned to the holoscreen which displayed two rapidly rising bars on a loosely labelled graph. One red bar was for those who voted “no,” while one green bar was reserved for those who voted “yes.” As the bars rose, numbers over them counted rapidly upward to tally the total number of voters. The act only took some seconds to complete, but watching those bars rise felt like an eternity as the potential for either response weighed heavily on every man, woman and child of Harbington, and in some parts Locksmouth.
At the end of it all, sixty-eight percent of Harbington citizens voted in favour of maintaining a protective relationship with Eos.
The colour drained from Quincey’s face as she stared at the screen. “Oh no…” She breathed.
“What?!” Carrie slammed her fist against Kelvalde’s dining table this time, shaking the dishes on it more than Erwin had previous. “I can’t believe it!” She shouted.
“An army, a… a militia!” Quincey blinked rapidly, “I… I can’t go home now! Not with them there!”
“I don’t think any of us will be taking a trip to the sugar bush this year…” Sam spoke as if she were somewhere else in her mind.
“What do you mean we can’t go home?!” Kenny squeaked, grabbing Quincey by her shirt. Daxton was out of his seat in a moment to pry Kenny away from her. The whole room was up out of their seats by then.
“They just want you to go home!” Kenny shouted, “Why can’t we just go home?!”
“They want to get rid of Inklings, you heard them!” Carrie pointed at Kenny from across the table, “And if Duplex gets taken out of Quincey?”
“Game over, man! Game over!” Max clapped his hands to the side of his head, eyes staring shrilly in two separate directions.
Kenny leaned on the table, hands pressed to the wood. “Damnit, if that thing just left her alone…!”
“Enough!” Echelon had taken Natalie’s form and stood next to the girl, hands rested atop the table as she shouted over the crowd of distraught kids. All eyes were on her in a moment.
“Stop and think about what just happened,” Echelon said, “Think about what you said you saw at the camp you were held prisoner at. Think very, very carefully.”
“I was about to mention that,” Kelvalde said, reaching to pick up his PET. A few swipes of his fingers and he’d found the part of the broadcast he wanted. The surveillance footage that featured the broken blast doors in Harbington’s eastern escape tunnel. With that image projected in the air, he gestured to it.
“Something is wrong with those doors,” He said.
“Yeah, they’re not on their hinges,” Laila pointed out.
Jacent stepped closer, squinting as he studied the image. “… The doors are dented… backwards,” He said.
“Nothing on Earth can move those things without some heavy-duty equipment and a whole lot of gravity skiffs,” Kevade said, looking to Carrie, “Except for you, perhaps, kitten.”
“That means they’re exactly where they fell,” Jacent said, lifting a hand and gently pushing his fist into it. He curled his fingers around his fist and said, “If an impact from outside of the doors struck them, they would have collapsed inward.”
“But those are collapsed outward,” Erwin noted.
Echelon nodded and looked across the table to the Harbington kids. “Daxton, what did you see in that camp?” She asked.
Daxton didn’t take too long to answer. “Aside from more gun guys? Aliens,” He said, “Lots of aliens.”
“Exactly,” Echelon pushed off the table.
“So… those guys, they were… you don’t think…” Natalie blinked at Echelon.
“They set us up!” Max cried, “They Trojan Horsed us!”
“They started their own crisis and rolled in to rescue Harbington from it,” Kelvalde threw his PET onto the table in frustration, “And they bought it. Hook, line, and sinker.”
“What? Hold your fuckin’ horses. What?” Carrie shook her head quickly.
“The Trojan Horse isn’t a very good comparison, but…” Quincey brought a finger to her lip in thought, “It… does make sense, but… how could they even do that?”
“… I don’t know,” Kelvalde sighed, taking his seat, “There aren’t many conclusions to draw from what little we know. All we know is that they did this on purpose. What their end goal is, we can’t be certain.”
“So what do we do?” Laila looked around the room at all the bewildered faces of her pack and newfound acquaintances.
“I… don’t think there’s anything we can do,” Natalie sat back down in her seat as well.
“What?!” Max and Kenny shouted at the same time.
Natalie shook her head, her brunette dreadlocks waving about. “I don’t mean that we aren’t going to do anything, but look…” She said, “Harbington just voted against us. Even if it’s not right, they did… Right?”
Jacent turned to the group, a somber air about him. “It’s true…” He said, “The people have spoken, for better or for worse. If we openly acted against this group, we would only be cementing the idea in Harbingtons’ minds that they have every reason to be afraid of us… of what we can do. We need to take a different approach to this.”
“I’d rather go punch them in their collective faces!” Carrie slammed a fist into her hand, “Grr! But you’re probably right.”
“So those are the guys that chased you down?” Erwin asked.
Daxton nodded, “No doubt about it. They’re as dickish as I remember.”
“I have to call my parents,” Quincey panicked, “I have to let them know I’m okay!”
Natalie pulled her PET out of her pocket and slid it across the table. “Go ahead,” She urged. Max, Erwin and Sam pushed their handheld devices across the table as well, and the Harbington kids picked them up quickly to start dialing numbers.
“Well, this certainly makes things difficult,” Echelon said to Natalie.
“I guess so,” Natalie thought, “We don’t know what these guys are going to do.”
Jacent stepped around the long table to approach Natalie from her other flank. “Natalie, I think for now we should focus on what we know,” He said, “And what we know is that we need to monitor Duplex’s condition.”
Echelon nodded in agreement. “If anything is going to give us answers on that other note, it would be that Inkling.”
“I can try and do some research on Eos,” Erwin suggested, “See if they have a history or something.”
“That sounds like the wisest course of action,” Kelvalde suggested from afar, somehow hearing their hushed conversation. “For the moment though, would you mind helping me clear off the table? The kids are getting scared out of their wits.”
Natalie turned her attention to Aren and Gren, who sat quietly at their end of the table… which was unusual for them. They didn’t ask any questions like they normally would, and instead their faces reflected the utter uncertainty in their hearts. Natalie left her planning comrades to take the kids and get them out of that room, away from the scene where she’d have them get ready to go home. They understood that leaving then was because Natalie had to plan super hero stuff, so they didn’t argue.
“Natalie, you’re gonna help those Harbington guys get home, right?” Gren asked when the trio had gotten their shoes on and were well outside Kelvalde’s apartment and on their way to their own houses.
“Of course I will,” Natalie said, “Those soldiers can’t do anything because none of us did anything wrong.”
“They’re not gonna come for us?” Aren blinked his big green eyes up at Natalie, who responded by tussling his hair playfully.
“I don’t think so – Inked are protected in Locksmouth, remember?” She smiled a smile for them, “We’ll deal with this like real politicians.”
“Boring,” Aren groused.
“We don’t fight people,” Natalie chastised, “Not if we can help it. That’s the rule.”
“Look,” She said, “If anything happens, we’ll all be there to do something about it. For now, we just have to wait and see.”
Natalie really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. She sighed under the possibility that it just might. One adventure ends and another begins… it was starting to feel like clockwork.
-
--
-
Eddie stared at his PET for the longest time, sitting quietly next to a resting detective. He’d watched the Harbington broadcast, he saw what happened. If he’d been any bolder he could have stalled it. He could have easily called down and gotten in touch with one of the Arbitrators. He could have posed a number of counter-arguments and kept the whole thing from proceeding. Hell, if he’d said anything maybe the small majority would have tipped toward a minority.
But he hadn’t said anything. Eos, as he had learned to call them, had Daxton in their clutches, or so they said. There really was no way to tell for sure. What was certain was that Eos had put the time and effort into heading up to the Ring just to threaten him and lay the beat down on Marcello. Now they both got to feel the sting as the very group Marcello was trying to take down was setting up some kind of security in Harbington while simultaneously denouncing the Inklings.
No good could have come from fighting those things. Eddie knew in his heart, there was just so much more to gain from working with them instead.
The screen of his PET lit up and in a flash Eddie was shown a picture of a humanoid silhouette with a big question mark planted on its face. His PET buzzed and rang, and the communication number displayed was listed as “unknown.” Immediately Eddie thought it must have been some shady so-and-so calling to gloat in their victory… But then, it could have been anyone in Harbington for all he knew, calling to complain about his absence. Mustering up the effort just to accept the call, Eddie stared somberly at the screen.
His mood immediately changed when his son was on the view screen.
“Daxton!” Eddie exclaimed, waking Marcello.
“Uh, hey Dad,” Daxton smiled wryly.
Eddie was flooded with emotions – relief and anger being the two of them. His first impulse was to give Daxton hell for what he was putting him and Edward through. After what had just transpired however, Eddie became more relieved that Daxton was safe than anything else. He didn’t trust those Eos people as far as he could throw them – and their open hatred for Inklings meant Quincey was in their sights. If Quincey was in trouble, Daxton would have been right there with her.
“Oh my God,” Eddie breathed, “You’re okay! Daxton where the heck are you, buddy?”
“I’m in Locksmouth,” He said, “Everybody’s here. Me, Quincey, Kenny, and Laila.”
Eddie rubbed his chin. “You know what? I almost think that’s the best place for you right now,” He said, “They just passed for Inkling Rights. I don’t know if you know what’s going on back home right now, but it isn’t pretty.”
Daxton rubbed his hat against his head. “Oh, I know. I think you’re right. We met these Eos guys while we were on our way there and they… well, it’s a bit of a long story.”
“Well I’ve got nothing but time,” Eddie said.
Daxton recounted everything, from when they first ran into Garrison to when he got captured at one of their alien containment camps. He told him about Quincey’s experience at Clarkstion, and their theory that Eos’ grandstand was one big hoax. Marcello, who had been asleep in bed at first, had been awake for the whole thing. She sat up quickly, but immediately regret being hasty as a wave of nausea washed over her.
“Ooogh… You got any proof that these guys did that?” Marcello asked.
Daxton was confused. “Huh? Who’s that?”
“That’s Paris Marcello, she’s a detective with the Harbington PD,” Eddie explained, “When you left us that rifle I knew these guys had something to do with you. We had no idea where to look for you, so we’ve been tracking these guys instead.”
“Get this,” Marcello mumbled, “These guys… they’re working for some big fish. Business groups, hard labour.”
“They did say they represented private interest groups,” Daxton pointed out.
Eddie cringed, “Some… corporate-owned army? It’s like capitalism’s worst nightmare.”
Marcello felt terrible, but she got one important thing in: “Lo-Tec Co.”
“Huh?” Daxton would have blinked if he could.
“The Lo-Tec Corporation,” Marcello said, “They’re wrapped up in this somehow… not only was the one DNA sample we found at the museum connected to a Ship Express employee, but that guy who got the jump on me? Tate Jacobs. Snagged him on photo ID. Guy’s supposedly a PR representative for the corp. Looks like he got a career change.”
“What so… Lo-Tec could be in on it?” Daxton tried following along.
“Wouldn’t be surprised at this point…” Marcello said, “Gotta follow up back home on some new leads. I think they might’ve picked up highly detailed schematics from a hobbyist for those weapons, and if I can peg them for that…”
Marcello’s head sunk quickly and Eddie reached out to keep her from falling off her bed. “You just lay down, jeez,” He said, gently easing the detective back onto her pillow.
“Daxton, champ… Man, I’d love nothing more than to go to Locksmouth and see you,” He said, “It sucks, really, that I’ll drop down in Anchorsway and have to go right past you. But I have to get home and try and fix this fiasco.”
Daxton exhaled and tried not to make it sound like a sigh, “I know. I just wanted to tell you I’m okay.”
“It’s been all I’ve needed to hear forever now,” Eddie smiled, “I’m so glad you’re alright. Your mother and I were worried sick.”
“You mean my other Dad?” Daxton smiled.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Same difference.”
“I’m calling him next,” Daxton said, “So… I love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, Dax,” Eddie ended the call.
“He’s probably down there with Echelon you know,” Marcello grumbled.
Eddie looked to his detective partner curiously. “What? How do you figure?”
“I dropped that they were looking for them when I was in Locksmouth,” She rolled onto her side and reached down beside the bed to take her bag of ice and push it back up against her head.
Eddie just smiled at the angler. “Thanks, Paris,” He said.
“Mm,” Paris smiled, closing her eyes, “Well, I did a favour for you… how about doing one for me?”
“What favour?” Eddie puzzled.
Paris opened her eyes and sort of grinned. “I sent Tate Jacobs’ details to your PET. I want you to hunt him down, put him in cuffs, and drag his ass down to Harbington so I can lay into him. Start by checking in with the elevator checkpoint, see where he registered himself as staying while he was up here.”
“After all, if we can’t go home yet… neither can he.”
