Voyage to Saga: Right in Front (Part VII)

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The first thing that Vearden could feel was the pain. His head felt like someone had cut an ever-delicate slit over the tip, and then pulled the two halves apart just a little. He tried to reach up and massage it, but could not. They were trapped behind his back. Even lifting his chin had painful consequences, but still he did. Across the room was a woman who was tied up too. There was no one else, not even a guard, in this small dungeon-like room. It was all metal, with two metal hatches on either side of them. It was very clearly a ship. It didn’t feel like they were on the water, though. All he could hear was creaking. The most important things to figure out now was why they were tied up, and how they were going to get out of it.

“You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Pretty terrible, actually,” Vearden replied. “Where are we?”

“In an abandoned something or other. Though, I suppose everything’s been abandoned these days. With what religion did you identify?”

“What? My religion? That’s the first thing you ask? Not my name?”

“What’s your name?”

“Vearden Haywood.”

“Imelda. I was a deist.”

“I’ve never believed in God, but I never gave it much thought either.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. If you were an atheist, you would have been sent to hell.” Then she got a little excited. “Unless you were sent to hell, and then you escaped. Are you part of the resistance? Is that why they captured you?”

“What? No! How dare you say I belong in hell. Where I come from, we respect each other’s beliefs.”

“Oh, I do. It’s just...you’re completely unaware of what’s going on, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, let’s just say that I’m not from around here.”

“I hope it’s nicer there than it is here. Maybe you could take me there...someday. Maybe.”

“Imelda, explain to me what’s happened. Why were you so confident that I should be in hell?” More creaking from the walls.

“That’s just the way it is now. All atheists were sent to hell...all at once. Over half of people were sent to heaven, and the rest of us stayed here. We call it the rapture.”

“So, the Christians were right.”

“They weren’t, no. They were wrong. We were all so very wrong. And now the demons have taken over. It is my position that we were all in such a hurry that we hastened our own demise. We should have been more patient.”

Vearden struggled to get out of his restraints, but not even his chair would move. It was bolted to the floor. Hers wasn’t, however. “Hey, I can’t move, but you can scoot over to that twisted metal conduit over there. Use the sharp edge to cut through your ropes.”

“No need, we will both survive this.”

“What? Imelda, we have to go. I don’t know what happens when whoever took us comes back.”

“They will try to kill us.”

“Then we definitely have to leave. Come on, please! It’ll just take a second.” Each time he got a little worked up, the creaking would intensify.

“I wish not to waste my energy.”

“If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for me. Please!” he begged.

“You just need more patience.”

“No, what I need is to survive, so I can go save my friend.”

“I have faith that you will find her in time.”

“I never said she was a girl.”

“Hm,” was her only reply.

“Imelda. I’m asking you nicely, and slowly...with patience, to please help me get out of my ropes.”

“Just wait.”

They waited for a few moments before hearing muffled voices from the other side of one of the two hatches. Vearden couldn’t really hear exactly what they were saying, especially with the creaking, but they were clearly angry with each other, and he did catch something about gold.

“No, you little imp—!” was the last thing one of them said, fairly clearly, before the gun went off. Then they heard a body drop.

“Is he...an actual imp? As in the demon.”

“Well...” Imelda answered vaguely. “No.”

The person—or demon, as it were—left standing tried to open the hatch. They could hear the latch jiggle a few times. Then they could hear what sounded like little beeps. Then bang, bang, bang! Then creak, creak, creak.

“I guess the guy he killed never gave him the code.”

“God...DAMMIT!” cried the demon. He just went berserk, kicking and banging on the hatch over and over again, while screaming profanities, and sometimes just nonsense. He would not let up. He wanted to be in the room, and nothing was going to stop him, not even the creaks.

“Okay,” Vearden said, trying to take that patience thing a bit more seriously. “That hatch is not going to hold him forever, so if you could just try this. Just try it. If it’s too hard, you can give up, and I won’t be mad. Please try.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it?” Vearden repeated, angry in his own right. “Don’t worry about it!? This is life and death! Maybe in your world, people can just come back from the afterlife, but for me, dead is dead!”

“All will work out in the end.”

“Now, you listen to me.” He stopped himself once Imelda casually pulled her arms to her front and massaged her wrists.

“What. The. Hell?”

Imelda reached down behind her chair and lifted something up, saying, “thank you” into her palms

Vearden squinted through the darkness and was able to see that she was holding a little mouse. “He’s mine, I brought him here.” It was the mouse he had incidentally picked up from the island with the plane crash in the previous reality.

“Then I thank you as well.”

He let out a heavy sigh. “That’s why you didn’t bother getting yourself free. My mouse was chewing through your ropes. You coulda said something.”

“You would have seen eventually. We could all do with a little more...”

Vearden rolled his eyes and recited the word “patience” at the same time as her. She was a broken record.

“Yes,” she said on her own, happy that her wisdom might be reaching him afterall.

He took another deep breath, trying to call himself down, despite the constant ruckus from just outside...and the creaks. “I know you’re all about patience, but if you don’t get up right now, you’re going to die.”

“Death is no end.”

“And I told you that it is for me. Now that you’re free, you can stand up and untie my ropes as well.”

“We are better off with you there.”

“What are you talking about? Is this a test? Are you actually the one who knocked me on the head? I never did see who did it. Is this some elaborate interrogation plan?”

“There is no plan but God’s.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he said, rolling his eyes again.

“He’s not very involved this time.”

“What?”

Just then, the banging stopped. But Vearden knew that this was no good sign. The demon was probably just taking a break. A few minutes later, he realized he was right. They could hear the sound of metal dragging on metal. “I have you now!” the demon yelled to them through the door. The banging started back up again, but this time, he had a tool.

“Okay, now we have to go. I can see the door move. He’ll break it sooner rather than later.”

“Patience.”

“Stop saying that! My legs are killing me, I shouldn’t have to sit like this anymore.” He stretched his legs away from the chair as much as he could, to relieve some of the pain.

With Vearden’s last word, the door broke free. It swung open a little bit on its own. They could hear the demon more clearly now. “Ha!” it said through heavy panting. It pushed itself through and immediately ran for Imelda who was standing patiently in the opposite corner, petting Vearden’s mouse. The demon had to pass in front of Vearden first, and didn’t notice Vearden’s legs. It tripped right over them and felt on its face. It fell hard, and then it stopped moving.

“Ho-oly shit,” was all Vearden could say.

“No, it was quite unholy,” Imelda disagreed. “It was the embodiment of impatience.” Ooooohhh, it wasn’t an imp. It was impatient. Haha, that’s dumb.

Just then, they could hear footsteps headed for them from down the hallway. “Can we go now?” Vearden asked.

“Of course...now that he’s finally opened the door for us. If he had just been patient, backup would have arrived with keys.”

They slunk out of the door and separated into rooms on either side of the hallway, peeking around the corner to watch as black-clothed figures ran past them, and into the hostage room.

“Where did they go?” one asked.

“They couldn’t have gone through this door. We would have seen them,” added another.

“Open that one,” a third one ordered.

As he did so, the creaking came to a head and moved the entire structure. Vearden stepped out of his hiding place due to curiosity as the entire hostage room broke away from the rest of the structure, and tumbled into the abyss below, sending all the pursuers to their deaths.

“You knew that would happen.”

“They shouldn’t have opened that other door. It was the only thing keeping the pressure balanced.”

“What are you?”

“I’m God,” she said, and she wasn’t joking. “But enough about that. We ought to be going. The rest of the ship could fall at any moment.”

They ran down the hallways. She looked like she knew where she was going the whole time, like she had been there before. Finally, they made it to that ramp that people use to get on and off. It didn’t look or feel stable, but they had to risk it.

Just as they were reaching the bottom, a group of people nonthreatingly ran up to them. One of them asked, “Imelda Angelo?”

“I am,” she said kindly.

“My name is Dana. I know this may sound strange, but—”

“Yes, yes, yes. We’re hypostates, and we’re trying to save the world. Got it. We should leave.”

“I was told that you would be—”

“Patient?” Imelda asked. I am, which means I know when it’s time to act.” She turned to Vearden. “Oh, before you go, here’s your mouse.”

“No, you keep it. Her name is Monica.”

“Monica Mouse, I like it.”

Then it was over.

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Microstory 530: Major Drug Bust in Carolina

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Gas masks, body armor, and dark clothes. These are the things that authorities wore this morning four hours after midnight East Coast Time. With them, they carried electroshock subduers, zip restraints, and even a few lethal firearms. Undercover police officers had infiltrated a major illicit drug organization, and had been operating under their false identities for the last year. Evidence was accumulated, processed, and verified. The drug operation was spread all over eastern Carolina, and required a number of coordinated strike teams.

As the sun was rising, groups of seven officers, backed up with standby teams, raided these various facilities at precisely the same time. This prevented suspects from contacting each other fast enough. The local drug enforcement task force wanted to end all operations at once, and leave no room for recovery. It is too soon to know whether their efforts will ultimately result in success. Coastal towns have been suffering from a drug problem for the last three years. Until today, authorities had found no luck in bringing them down. Each arrest seemed to have little to no effect on the development of the drug business. It is hoped that this long-term endeavor will send a message to anyone looking to manufacture or distribute drugs in the southeast region of Usonia: you are not welcome.

Five suspects were killed during the blitz, while two others remain in critical condition. One officer was severely injured by a short-bladed sword, and it is believed that his leg will need to be removed for medical reasons, but he is expected to survive. All others ended up with nothing more dangerous than superficial wounds, and authorities experienced no other casualties. Drugs of all kind were found during the raid; ranging from stimulants to opiates; tobacco to alcohol; and amphetamines to psychoactives. Trials are due to begin next month.

Microstory 529: What Happened to the Flowers?

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Earlier this week, this year’s Fontane University graduates were ceremoniously walking down Fontane Hill, as is tradition. The symbolic idea behind this practice is to teach recent graduates one simple life lesson: that it’s hard. Walkers are encouraged to admire the beautiful flora on their way down, but to be careful, because the trek is treacherous. Most walkers lose focus on this rather quickly, and end up just concentrating on holding their balance. The school isn’t proud of the number of sprained ankles every year, but also notoriously assumes no responsibility. What they did not count on was how this particular ceremony would be different. There were more injuries this year than the last five years combined, because something was happening to the wildlife. Something that never had before, and cannot be explained.

According to numerous reports, the plants and flowers around the walkers were dying before their very eyes. They could see the petals wilt and turn to dust in a matter of seconds. This surprised enough people to send them tumbling down the rest of the hill, harming those who were too far along to have even noticed. The flora was dying and disintegrating in a somewhat predictable pattern...downwards, but not consistently enough to trace this bizarre turn of events to a source. Authorities initially believed it to be the result of some elaborate prank, but no substance known to man is capable of pulling something like this off. There was talk of a solar flare, underground gas pockets, and even human pheromones, but none of these comes close to being valid, let alone verified. Botanists and other scientists have already traveled to Fontane from all over the world, looking for answers. The Fontane Freesheet will update its readers as more information comes. For now, the question on everybody’s minds is, what happened to the flowers?

Microstory 528: So-called Light Wars Begin Over Earth

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Our great galaxy’s animosity towards Lactea cannot be overstated. They are full of communists who value nothing. Ever citizen, regardless of how hard they’ve worked—and except for a few “contribution requirements”—is provided for. They are all immortal, telekinetic, and uninteresting. They represent all that our people hate about the universe, and they have always been our worst enemies...until now. As it turns out, there is an even worse way to do things. There is that Lactean rule that says one is not allowed to enjoy the benefits of the system without having some sort of vocation. That vocation may entail sitting in a room, reading a book, and making sure a robot doesn’t malfunction, but it is technically a job that the government accepts. Following that requirement, citizens are free to act as they please. They may travel where they want, learn what they want, and marry who they want. This is not so when it comes to the evil society of Thuriama.

Thuriama is the name of the new branch of Amadesis that rose from the ashes of its former self after the destruction of its originating planet. Amadesis is the most heinous and despicable religion ever created. Its entire purpose is to poison everything it touches, and infect outsiders with their twisted ideals in religious devotion. This particular sect focuses most deeply in the concept of the soul, hidden in their claims of bringing light to the blind. The idea of controlling someone by accessing their soul energy has been a goal of theirs since the seeds of the sect was first planted by historical figure, Ellaraitch. It is not yet clear if they have succeeded in their endeavors, but what we do know is that they are executing at least more traditional forms of fidelity on a compartmentalized group of their own population. Historians believe that they cloned or bred an entire subpopulation designed specifically to serve them. As Fosteans, of course, we find the idea of enslaved humans to be disgusting. It is one of the few laws that we even have. The Thuriamen have no such law, and have been exploiting free-thinking individuals for whatever dastardly plans they have. And so it is with a full understanding of irony that the Fostean leaders have teamed up with Lactea to combat these terrible people. We would normally avoid interfering with other cultures, but it was nearly unanimously felt that standing back threatened our galaxy. If the Thuriamen indeed have the ability to control others, that is something that must be stopped. We have done things our own way, though, and acted somewhat against our alliance with Lactea. We decided to attack Thuriama first. Unfortunately, since Thuriama is located in higher complex dimensions, this meant risking exposing ourselves to veiled Earthans. Details on our battle campaign are forthcoming, but there is one thing that we can tell you. The Light Wars have just begun.

Microstory 527: Mysterious Savior May Not Have Abilities

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If you live in a major North American city, you may have caught a glimpse of a mysterious woman flying around, saving people’s lives. If not, you have surely at least heard of her. Or rather, you’ve heard of the idea of her. She has yet to identify herself in any way, or even vocally communicate at all. She shows up, takes care of a problem, then leaves for her next job before anyone can so much as thank her. She travels at speeds faster than ever recorded using an open-air vessel more advanced than anything in the world. She’s extremely agile, and incredibly strong. She has been seen diving into freezing cold water, walking through fire, and even passing through walls unharmed. She carries two weapons that can be transformed into a number of different shapes. These can be like swords, batons, tasers, and many other shapes. She has not once hurt anyone except superficially, possibly because she generally doesn’t have to. Firstly, she mostly limits herself to helping people in accidental dangers; like burning buildings, and traffic collisions. When she does encounter pushback, assailants have attempted to do her harm, but have always failed. Bullets seem to just roll off her, and explosions just propel her in one direction, where she lands safely, like a cat from a table. She seems to show little to no emotion, as if programmed to carry out her missions with no feelings, but a duty to succeed. Some call her an angel, but most children refer to her as a superhero, citing her behavior and “abilities” as most closely resembling that of the fictional comic book character, WildFlyer.

She may not be alone. Various reports have cropped up around the world that have always been ignored, but are now being reexamined. Farmers in Tanzania claim one of their own has regularly altered the weather with nothing but his will. Two people in the midwest have been associated with the sudden recovery of a number of terminally ill patients. There is a rumor going around that hundreds of people have received organ transplants from a single individual. The military is not exempt from this either. Two special teams exist within the Confederate Military Force. It has been suggested that one of them involves people who can merge their bodies together, while another seems to be composed exclusively of supersoldiers. These claims cannot be verified. The only known person to possess superhuman abilities is the enigmatic woman in North America. However, authorities are not convinced that these are powers. Though she can be found in many places, she always looks the same. She always carries her special weapons, and she is always wearing her uniform, which includes cool-looking sunglasses. Scientists believe it’s possible that these are what give her such immense fortitude. They say that the things she can do are not necessarily out of the realm of reality…just that they are presently scientifically unobtainable. It is conceivable that this woman alone, or—more likely—an organization, has developed technology beyond that of current global trends. Fans and investigators have made numerous attempts to communicate with her, and hope that one day she will answer. For now, many of us are just thankful that she exists in the first place.

Microstory 526: Lactean Irritants Possess Cloning Technology

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We all know the faces of the new Lactean Irritants. These invaders have been undermining our traditions since they first arrived. They are so set in their ways that they cannot even see what’s right in front of them...that our galaxy has the most freedom than any other in the universe. In Fostea, you can do whatever you want. You can charge whatever you want for whatever service you can provide. You can create, produce, change, and progress at your rate, and nobody can tell you that you’re doing is wrong. We don’t have regulations or requirements. All we ask is that you not interfere with anyone else’s business. If it doesn’t have anything to do with you then stay out of it. These Lacteans do not hold our same values. Unfortunately, the downside to our philosophy is that we, in turn, cannot effectively combat their advances. When our ancestors first set out to find our home, they did not anticipate being followed. Nor were they. It is only now that we have been discovered, and we must find a way to adapt to our new issues. Because the Lacteans certainly are.

Investigators now believe that the Irritants possess some kind of cloning technology that allows them to be in multiple places at once. It is unclear if these are decoys, full replicas, or even the result of quantum duplication. Current cloning technology is limited to crops, but scientists have long believed human cloning to be possible. Experts have not yet ruled out the possibility that these are merely highly advanced, and hyper-complex, holograms that The Lucifer has learned to create remotely. However they’re doing it, the Lacteans have, in multiple instances, been spotted in one place while also being spotted in another place altogether. Instantaneous travel would not explain these discrepancies as many of the sightings take place in “dead spots”: planets that can be accessed with plex transport, but where no Nexus can be found. There is simply no accounting for how they are able to get from one place to the other so quickly. So the only logical explanation is that they’re not; that what we are seeing are two different versions of the same people. A sanctioned investigation is in the works. Companies are currently bidding for the right and responsibility to carry out the inquiry. Please contact your local networker if you have any information regarding how the Irritants operate, or to contribute to the investigation or make your own bid.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 1, 2116

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A not insignificant part of Mateo thought that maybe the driving course in the middle of the jungle never existed, or would be taken away by the time he returned to the timeline. That was something The Rogue, or The Cleaner would do, just to make it more complicated. But no, Arcadia was not like that. Everything was as it was before. He left the 1967 Chevy Impala alone, knowing that it was not the kind of car you use to teach someone how to drive. It was time to be practical; this was especially important for someone born in 2089. Xearea needed buttons, and so that was what he was giving her. He chose to use a 2003 Ford Taurus SEL. When he flipped down the visor to find the keys, a note fell down along with them. This car is a gift from The Superintendent. He says he doesn’t need it anymore. Your Love Always...Arcadia Preston. The Superintendent. He sounded important.

“All right, first we need to go over driving prep. You don’t want to be adjusting anything while you’re actually on the road, so as you’re sitting there, make sure everything is in place. You can move the seat back and forth, up or down, and tilt it as needed. Not all cars have that, though. This right here is your rearview mirror. It needs to be giving you the widest view of everything behind you as it possibly can. The side view mirrors should take care of the rest.”

“What’s that?”

“That’s the button for the sunroof.”

She pushed it. “What this?”

“The radio. I, uh...don’t think it’ll work here.” She turned it on. Early 20th century alternative rock music started playing. “All right, that’s enough playing.”

“No, I need to know what these are. What’s in here?”

“That’s the glove box.”

“There aren’t any gloves in it.”

“People used to wear driving gloves, the name stuck. Can we move on?”

“No, what is this one, and this?” She pushed two buttons, one to release the hood, and the other the trunk.

He sighed. She was in her twenties, but acting like a child. “There’s a secret combination of buttons in this car that will blow it up if you push them. So if you don’t do what I say, and exactly only that, you could kill us both.”

She studied his face closely, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth or not. He was lying pretty well, he thought. She instinctively placed her hands on the steering wheel, indicating that she was done messing around.

“Now that’s good, you already have your hands at ten-and-two. They say it’s nine-and-three now, but I never bought into that. This is the best position to keep control of the vehicle.”

“Okay.” She seemed ready to take this seriously. “If I push this button again, is that thing in front of me gonna go back down?”

“No, I’ll have to get out and close both of them.” He first went around and shut the hood, then walked around back for the trunk. Just after it latched, the car ignited and took off. Xearea was going rogue.

A car pulled up beside him and opened its door. Xearea’s voice came from the speaker system, “come with me if you want to live. Get it...’cause how we met?”

“Are you speaking in realtime?”

“This is a recording, by the way.”

Mateo jumped into the car and let it take him into the course. Xearea had zipped all through the side streets, and was currently getting on the highway loop. “Computer, catch up to her and match her speed.”

“Understood,” a stranger’s voice answered. His driverless vehicle did as it was told and started closely following behind Xearea.

After a few laps around the loop, she merged onto an exit that hadn’t been there before. As they started driving along a curve, he could then see that there was no highway several meters in front of Xearea’s car. It was building itself just in time for her to drive over it. Was Kayetan Glaston, a.k.a. The Merger involved somehow?

The highway continued to build itself as they passed through and over trees, and then past the boundary of the island itself. They were now on the ocean, like they were just going to the next Florida Key over. “Dammit, Xearea, where are you taking us?”

Mateo kept an eye on Xearea’s car, and their surroundings for some time, but then grew bored of it. She obviously already knew how to drive, and she wasn’t going to stop until she was done. He hadn’t been getting very much sleep from all this stress, so he decided to take a nap.

The car’s voice woke him up, saying, “we have reached land.”

“How long has it been?” Mateo asked, sitting up.

“Seven hours, twenty-eight minutes,” the car answered.

He looked out the windshield to see something familiar. “Is this our island? Did we just drive in a circle?”

“We drove fairly straight the entire time,” the car said. “This is a different island.”

He opened the sunroof and stood up. They were just entering what was reportedly a new driving course, but it looked just like the first one. Xearea finally stopped her car in front of this second garage, and got out. Mateo stepped out as well.

She looked tired. “We’re here.”

“Where is here? What did you do? When did you learn how to drive?”

“Arcadia taught me over the year. I’m glad she did, because I would not have been able to get through your test with only two days of training.”

“Why would she do that? Where are we?”

“This is called Lorania. It’s another island on the same planet. It’s not too far from the mainland, actually.”

“Why are we here?”

“I have been tasked with teaching you one lesson. Or rather, I’m here to give you the opportunity to teach it to yourself. In fact, it’ll be your responsibility to determine what that lesson is.” She paused for a moment. “Follow me.”

They started walking through the forest. Mateo was rested enough for it, but Xearea just had to drive half a day, so she had to take a couple breaks. At last, they had arrived. They were standing in magical puddle. It was murky and dark, but there were also bits of light. He examined it for a moment, eventually realizing that it was reflecting, not the daytime sky above, but stars from some other point in spacetime. This was some kind of special water like the time mirror, or the time window on Easter Island. “Fascinating. What is it?”

“It is but one of many,” Xearea said. “You’ll find the other ingredients all over time and space.”

He closed his eyes in exasperation. “Oh my God, is this the immortality water again?”

“So you know it?”

“Yeah, the Cleanser gave me the chance to drink it during one of his tribulations. If I drank it, my pattern would stop, and I would lose Leona. If I killed the guy who was with me, I would be able to give the water to Leona as well. We both chose to leave.”

Xearea nodded. “Well this comes with stipulations as well. First, it’s going to take a lot of work to gather all of the ingredients. If you choose to take this challenge, the expiations will cease, however, you’ll never get back the people we’ve already lost. If you succeed in this challenge, you will be able to give however much water you have to whomever you want, including Leona. And your patterns will cease.”

“Well, that sounds real nice, but I can’t leave Baudin, Gilbert, and Samsonite like that. I promised I would get them back, and I would keep going even if I hadn’t promised.”

“She also said something about giving back your kiwi. I don’t know what that means. Is that your favorite fruit, or something?”

Oh, no. This was more complicated than before. Now he had to choose between his daughter, Kivi, and three of his friends. What was he supposed to do with that?

Xearea saw the struggle on his face. “Oh, I can see this has become more difficult. She didn’t give me a time limit on this. I assume you have until midnight central.

Mateo didn’t really need any time. He forced himself to look at it as a math equation. One life for three. There was no way he could choose using his heart, so the most logical choice was really the only one. The lesson Arcadia was trying to teach him here was that sometimes there is no high road. Sometimes your only choices are bad. He didn’t know the details, though. Was this an explanation for her siblings’ behavior? Was it an apology for herself? Was this a warning for the future, or a mirror for his own choices? Was this meant to make him a better person, or to show him what he’s lost? What was the point of this, if there was one? Maybe it was nothing. Maybe he was just meant to take it at face value; a choice between immortality or not. There was one lesson that he had already learned, and needed to call upon now. When a choosing one hands you something, and offers to not give it to you, always walk away. Yes, Rule Number Twelve, never accept something from a chooser unless you are given no choice. Eh, the syntax needed work.

He picked up a rock and dropped it into the puddle where it disappeared into the black. “Come on. I’ll drive us back, and program the driverless car to follow us.”

Xearea nodded and rested her head against his shoulder as he slowly walked them back towards the driving course. A man suddenly came out of the trees, carrying a spear, and in fighting stance. He was shirtless, and wearing only a loin cloth. “We mean you no harm,” Mateo tried to tell him.

The man jerked his eyes back and forth between them. He was also wearing his game face, and did not look like he was interested in talking this out. He finally decided what he was going to do. He reached the spear back and jammed the bottom of it into Mateo’s face. Everything went black.

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