385: A Reasonable Man (Patreon)

The six adventurers walked through ruined streets, wrapped in stony silence. Leading from the front were Serrin and Marlowe. Junko took the centre, with Maverick and Yue walking behind her, while off a little to the left strode Nicolai. They were surrounded on all sides by buildings slouching and tottering like decrepit old war veterans, coughing rubble onto the streets from the big holes in their walls and roofs, which were full up with pools of shadow. Nicolai’s drones were a dully buzzing cordon above and around, giving him vision everywhere, including right through those shadows. For now, there was no sign of anything to worry about, thus he was willing to devote much of his focus to those accompanying him.

Junko was a furious little presence, her Soul bubbling like a little volcano. Marlowe was a grim, solid echo of her anger, as though his soul was somehow bound to hers. Maverick was a downcast presence, like a little rain cloud trailing sadly after them. Yue was shuttered and withdrawn, a shop closed up for the night. Serrin’s Soul well guarded but active. Even through that guarding, the stirring of his soul made it obvious that he was deep in restless, frantic thought. Nicolai, on the other hand, was perfectly, sunnily blank, wrapped in an air of total innocence.

Alas, he knew Junko wasn’t buying it. The young woman was very unhappy indeed. Less than an hour ago, she’d told him so rather vividly.

###

A Short Time Ago

‘You killed him!’ Junko screamed, standing in the street outside the Thrynn compound. ‘And just because that bastard told you to—for nothing!’

Nicolai, overall, was still trying to come across as the most reasonable man of all time, so took a moment to consider before responding, standing silently while she glared accusingly at him.

He noted that her words held two accusations. For the killing, he had plenty of “reasonable” justification. But as to acting as a proper member of their team… there was really nothing he could say to counter that, except to point out that he wasn’t a proper member of their team—but one of his goals, at least for now, was to slide into that exact role. Best ignored, murmured Psychology, nodding along with his thoughts. With the right words, he was sure he’d be able to pull their focus onto the justified killing, and bury the teamwork aspect.

After a moment’s internal debate, he decided that he should still appear reasonable if he poked a little hole in her argument, which would also draw the focus where he wanted it.

‘Not for no reason,’ he pointed out. ‘The reason is self-evident. The Patriarch wasn’t going to let me accompany you, so I anticipated that if I removed his brother, he would allow me to come as a reward.’

‘You’re not coming with us,’ Junko snarled at him. ‘I don’t care what the Patriarch says. We’re going into the Dead City to find the thing in the well, and we don’t need you.’

‘Uh…’ Serrin began.

‘No.’ She turned and frowned at the hornet. ‘I trust you, Serrin, but not when it comes to him. You’re his friend. I know you want him to come with us, but it’s not happening.’

Serrin nodded sadly, then stood there shifting uncertainly and looking back and forth between her and Nicolai, somewhat like a cat trying to decide whether to stay or run away.

Junko turned back to Nicolai. ‘You’re not coming with us,’ she growled.

Marlowe drifted up to stand at her shoulder, arms folded, reflecting the heat of her anger at Nicolai like a big bald mirror. Maverick planted himself squarely in front of her, hackles risen, and let out a low, faint growl. Neither of them appeared to have engaged in much actual thought. She was angry, and so they were angry, like loyal dogs. Though in Maverick’s case that was pretty forgivable. Only Yue stayed apart, watching.

‘What do you think would have happened if I hadn’t acted?’ asked Nicolai, with idle curiosity. ‘The Patriarch wanted Zoryth dead. Someone was going to have to do it.’

‘And it just had to be you, right?’ said Marlowe, raising an eyebrow contemptuously.

‘You did it instantly!’ Junko hissed. ‘You even made sure that other guy couldn’t do it! Couldn’t “steal your kill”! Then talking with the Patriarch like that, trying to get his approval… it’s disgusting! You… you… you’re a slut!’

‘I’m a what?’ He was 99% sure he hadn’t misheard—his helmet’s mics were really good—but he wondered if she’d meant to call him something else.

‘A slut!’ If looks could kill, the contemptuous glare she was aiming at him would’ve been melting a giant hole through his helmet and out the back of his head.

‘Huh,’ was all he could manage. He had been called many, many things in his life. But he was pretty sure no one had ever called him a slut. It just wasn’t something that’d ever really been applicable, but Junko had found a way. Even Marlowe looked kind of surprised. After thinking on it a moment longer, he added, ‘My point still stands, though. Zoryth was dead either way.’

‘You don’t know that,’ she retorted, shaking her head. ‘You can’t know that.’

‘Actually, I do. The other assassin, John was going to shoot him. So if I hadn’t, then—’

‘Then you could’ve put a knife in this John guy’s arm and stopped him shooting, like you did anyway! You could have stopped it!’

He gaped at her, astonished. ‘But why would I?’ He was starting to think she was her own kind of crazy, because she really wasn’t making any sense at all. Why the fuck did she care so much about this random Person? Within him, the Modules shrugged at one another, equally confused, all except Psychology and the Mask, who alone seemed to understand her deranged point of view.

‘Why would you…’ she began to echo, only to trail off, face twitching with disgust. ‘We could have talked!’ she screamed. ‘We could have worked something out! There was no need for anyone to die!’

‘I just…’ he began, only to stop, opting not to speak the next words: ‘I just don’t see why this is such a big deal to you. None of us even knew him.’ The Mask was gripping him. It said that would just make her even angrier. Nicolai found this baffling when held against what they had witnessed. The Patriarch had very clearly decided that he wanted his brother dead before the meeting had even begun. Zoryth was going to die no matter what, and Nicolai had really saved them all a great deal of bother by getting it done so quickly, especially if Zoryth might otherwise have successfully fought back. Not to mention he’d secured a reward, and now could accompany them to the Dead City, as planned. A place where he was now in fact determined to go, because he truly did wish to hear whatever this Thing in the Well had to say, not to mention the rewards on offer.

He glanced hopefully at the others, but none of them showed any signs of joining his side, even though it was the side of Reason and Logic. Silently, he conferred with Psychology, and concluded that simply making sound arguments wasn’t the winning move here. There was no arguing with Junko, not in her current state, and, just appearance-wise, she was an angry young woman who’d been labelled a Hero of Humanity (and who didn’t even carry a gun, which normally would make her a moron but right now it really helped her image), while he was approaching six-and-a-half feet of muscle and augments, wrapped in a tactical camo-patterned skinsuit with weapons practically everywhere. If she was the Hero, he was definitely the Bad Guy, and no amount of logic would change that.

No, the best way forward was to start being a little more human. Still Mr Reasonable overall, but with a bit of emotion here and there.

He raised his hands in a helpless shrug, adding a faint scoff and a show of confusion. ‘So far as I’m concerned,’ he said, ‘there was no other choice. I’m sorry you feel otherwise. I guess… I don’t know.’ He sighed, shook his head, stared at a random point. ‘Where I grew up, you had to act fast. I guess if you’ve never experienced that, the way I acted… but no, no. You’re right. I’m a bad person.’ He hung his head sadly, while peeking at them through his cameras.

There were actually a few uncertain glances, and Junko frowned in a way he took as encouraging.

A Local connection request blinked at him. Serrin.

‘Did you have to kill him?’

‘The Patriarch wanted him dead. You saw that as clearly as I did.’

A pause, then, ‘I know. Maybe. It’s just…’

‘I know,’ Nicolai echoed, when it became clear Serrin wouldn’t continue, and in spite of the fact he really wasn’t sure what the Hornet was trying to say.

He turned another beseeching look onto her companions. It bought him little, at first. Maverick went on with the quiet growl, and Marlowe just glared back with Junko-pleasing hostility. However, Yue seemed genuinely conflicted, her well-guarded Soul giving the faint impression of uncertain thought. He focused his beseeching gaze on her, and for the first time in a while he wished he could take his helmet off. It was so much easier to try and pull the tiny levers inside people’s skulls when he could use his face, rather than being locked up behind his helmet.

But in this case, helmet or no, his words seemed to have had at least some effect, as Yue looked unhappily between Maverick and Marlowe. Then she sighed and said, ‘I agree with him, Junko. That man was dead no matter what. We knew this House War was going to be like this—backstabbing. There’s a good chance the Patriarch would have demanded that one of us do it if he hadn’t.’

Junko turned a faintly shocked, betrayed look up at Yue.

‘And it’s also very clear that this House War is going to be dangerous,’ Yue continued, undaunted. Marlowe and Maverick were at last looking away from Nicolai, their focus on her and their features conflicted. ‘All the most dangerous people in this city are taking part in it. When we weren’t involved, that wasn’t an issue. But now we are, and we’re being sent out there under the banner of Thrynn. It is inevitable we will encounter groups from the other Houses, and regardless of what we might think about this mess, they will view us as enemies.’

‘So you think he did the right thing?’ said Junko, stubborn anger all over her features, but there was a wonderful whiny edge to her tone that told Nicolai that deep inside she knew, knew that Yue was right.

In the meantime he stood silently and did his best to convey, purely through the set of his hips and shoulders and his thumbs hooked into his belt, that he was totally at ease. He was calm, he was reasonable, he was competent. But he wasn’t smug, no, never that. Almost apologetic, in fact, sad to have been proven right. Psychology was helping him with the presentation, prodding his body into the perfect pose—shoulders a half-inch more slumped, hands a touch more casual, hips at an angle that suggested resignation.

Junko shot him a frown, clearly noting the staggering degree of agreeableness radiated by his posture. Except, if anything, it only seemed to annoy her, which birthed in him an urge to double down, try and look even more reasonable and competent, but he managed to fight it off. There was a limit.

‘He didn’t do the right thing,’ replied Yue. ‘Regardless of whether the killing was justified, he should have at least tried to warn us of his actions, first.’ Uh oh, though Nicolai and the Modules, sensing danger. However, her next words put his worries to bed. ‘But we need whatever help we can get,’ she finished.

‘We don’t need any help,’ said Junko. ‘We’ve got each other, and I’ve got my summons. We’re strong, and we’re going to do this, and no one’s going to die!’

‘You don’t know that,’ spoke up Maverick, padding closer to her. ‘Remember what happened in the trial? If that had been real…’ He swallowed and lowered his head, shook it side to side.

‘You didn’t need to do that!’ she replied, crouching down by him, reaching out hesitantly. ‘Maverick, I would have been fine.’

‘No, you wouldn’t have!’ he yelled. ‘You would have died, and we don’t want you to die. The other guys out there will be Champions, too, working for the other Houses. They’ll be strong, really strong! If we have to fight them, it’ll be even worse than the trials. And what if your summons are all on cooldown? What if someone moves so fast that there’s no time for you to summon anything? Anything could happen!’

The dog’s words had a far greater effect than anything Nicolai could’ve managed. Junko’s frown was wobbling, struggling to remain balanced atop the shaky foundations of her face, as all the determination and certainty bled out of her. ‘And what?’ she said, trying to firm it back up. ‘Do you think he’ll protect me?’ Her face pulled itself back together enough for her to shoot another vicious glare at Nicolai. ‘This murderer who attacks without a thought?’

Beneath his helmet he was smiling. Yep. Her arguments were in the terminal stages, and she’d totally forgotten about the only solid point she’d had: That he probably should have tried to be more of a team player, should’ve acted with them instead of immediately opting to kill Zoryth on his own. You should remind her— began the Mask, in the manner of that kid raising a hand to remind the teacher she’d forgotten to assign homework, but Nicolai pushed that little impulse down effortlessly.

His good cheer was interrupted, however, by a message from Serrin.

‘I spoke with her, in the Trials,’ the Hornet said. ‘She said where she’s from, no one ever dies except the really old, and everyone is always nice and gets along… She says she’s struggling to adjust to all this. I just thought you ought to know that. I think you did the… probably the only thing you could do. And she might see that in time. But just… don’t push her too much.’

‘Interesting,’ replied Nicolai. Within him, the puzzle pieces of Junko had fallen into place with a click. She was from one of those communes. People whose ancestors had spent quite a sum to enroll their families into a big sealed tower block where they’d have all their needs taken care of, forever. He and the Modules had spent some time guarding one. Commune lives were ridiculously wholesome, run by over protective AIs determined to deliver the holistic human experience; they typically interpreted this in a way that involved a heavy focus on big healthy dinners and lots of sporting events. He and the Modules had, oddly enough, quite enjoyed the experience.