This is the second half of a special two part bonus story! You can find the first part HERE: http://www.jameswylder.com/home/10000-dawns-bonus-story-10-part-1 Make sure to come back next week for the Grand Finale of Graelyn and Arch's adventure! -Jim If you missed it, check out our big announcement about the Finale of the serial 10,000 Dawns story! http://www.jameswylder.com/home/dawn-rises-march-3rd-the-10000-dawns-finale-is-coming If you're new to 10kd, you can read all of it for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can read this story in PDF or Epub formats below:
The Mask of Apollo, Part 2Ten Days Earlier
Kinan fiddled with the mask, and made a soft sound of annoyance. “It doesn't fit... Do I really have to wear this the whole time?” “Kinan, can I remind you whose plan this was? This plan you made up?” Kinan looked at her through the mask, and shrugged. “Get me some padding foam and some glue.” John and Miranda looked at Lametrius who was crossing her arms. “I'll fix it later, can we go ahead and get this done?” Kinan nodded, and casually threw a handfull of crystal dust into the air, steping into the swirling portal she created as though it was a living room door. The portal led right into a massive hall, the main hall of a temple from the looks of it, where a throng of worshipers was standing in line to make libations to a statue of Apollo. Everyone stared at her. In a few moments, a proud looking Lametrius entered, wearing a very nice Hermes costume that looked a bit more like a superhero outfit than a period costume, Jenny who had barely changed to make herself look like Artemis (she had a bow, and had put a crescent moon on her hairband), and John and Miranda who were both on their phones. A man pouring a libation stood holding the cup, his mouth agape. “Hi.” Kinan began. “I'm the god Apollo. The God of your city. Glorius as the morningtide.” She held her arms out wide. “Behold me mortals, and be afraid. Behold me and be glad.” “You're not Apollo!” A priest shouted from next to the libation area, pointing wildly with his finger. Kinan sighed, and pointed at a vase, which exploded. Then she pointed at the ceiling and a swirling disk of fire appeared in it. Then she pressed a button on her belt and the Disco Remix “A Fifth of Beethoven” began playing from a speaker in her bag. Then she blew up another vase, just in case. The priest lowered his finger. “Okay then... All hail Apollo! Welcome to our city! All hail his sister Artemis! All hail Hermes! All hail...” He looked at John and Miranda. “Their helpers!” John gave a thumbs up. * * * * Kinan entered back in through the walls, the sounds of the Greek army falling into confusion following loudly behind her. Jenny, or rather Artemis, hopped down from the wall and caught up with her. “Was it really necessary to be that dramatic?” Kinan didn't answer, just handed her the stool. Jenny chucked it to the side of the street where one of the adoring throng grabbed it, and held it above her head in triumph yelling about having the stool of a god. “Where's Hermes?” She finally said. “Consulting with King Priam.” Kinan just nodded, and they made their way to the royal palace. Troy was a magnificent city, but it was a much smaller one than most people would think. The world was much smaller then, its whole population dwarfed easily by colonies on other worlds considered tiny by the standards of Earth, which had tens of billions of people. Mars only had around 1 billion, and it still outdid the whole of this past. And yet, for its time it was grand. A time when single warriors could distinguish themselves so much in battle that armies trembled at the thought of them. Not because they were such incredible warriors compared to the present, but because every death was such a larger percent of humanity. Outside the walls, the Greek camp seemed to writhe in the wind, a mess of tarps and cloth fitted into the dirt and sand. King Priam was an old man, but a fit one. He had the kind of muscles that were built into his frame over too many years to really ever get rid of all of them. His son, Hector, had the kind of muscles you saw in a body building magazine. Lametrius sat talking to both of them as Jenny and Kinan entered into the chamber. “Ah, Apollo, Artemis. I was just telling the King about how we plan to relieve the food woes of his people.” Apollo nodded. “Have you informed him of why we're here?” Lametrius looked at Kinan like she was going off script during a stage play. “...No?” Apollo looked at Priam. “I'm going to fight Poseidon and Zeus. They should arrive to aid the Greeks soon.” Priam rose. “My Lord Apollo... I can't imagine a battle of the gods will leave much left for us Mortals.” Apollo stared at him. “Hermes.” “Yes my Lord?” “Let me know if you detect the arrival of other gods.” Lametrus frowned. “Yes my lord.” Kinan began to exist, and Lametrius followed her till they were out of earshot. “Kinan, what are you doing?” “Luring Zeus and Poseidon here, exactly what I said.” Lametrius grabbed her by the arm. “Don't give me that crap. What are you doing. This city is counting on us!” Apollo leaned down to stare into her eyes. “This city is as good as dead, and always has been.” They didn't look away from each other. “You might think its fine and dandy to walk into other people's lives and treat them like numbers on a spreadsheet, but people's lives are worth more than that Kinan. These people's to.” Kinan straightened her back. “They're a means to an end. Do you see the worn walls of this city? They'll crumble. The Greeks will massacre this city in ten thousand realitites, commit crimes unspeakable, and yet so easily spoken. Would you have me save them all?” Lametrius scoweled, and walked over to a window, where she pointed out at the rows of buildings. Some children were kicking around an inflated sheep's bladder. “I don't expect you to achieve miracles. I expect you to finish what you've started when you start it. These people expect us to save them. We can't just let them die.” Kinan cocked her head to the side, the weighty mask glimmering off the light from the window. “You don't expect me to fight for them?” “I expect you to be willing to sacrifice the city to meet your goals.” “Don't badger me with this Lametrius. This is a trolly problem. If a city dies to save a universe, would you be so averse?” She was about to respond, but Kinan cut her off. “Regardless, that isn't my plan anyways. I'm drawing out gods.” “And by gods you don't mean like, actual gods?” “Close enough.” * * * * Agamemnon had drunk a lot of wine tonight. His finest warrior had fled with his boyfriend, and many troops had followed them. The war was not going well, not at all. He downed another goblet of the stuff, and snapped for his wine boy to bring him more. He snapped again. Nothing. Turning around, and the first sound of a yell beginning to seep out of his lips Agamemnon saw a pair of figures in black robes, each with a colored stripe running up one side of their garment. He set the cup down, and fumbled for his blade. “Name yourselves. Where is my wine boy and how did you...” He didn't finish. They pulled down their hoods, and he dropped to his knees. “My gods.” He said. Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other. One rubbed their beard, having not shapeshifted from a clean shorn female form for the last few years, this thick beard was a stark change. “Agamemnon,” Zeus said, “Poseidon and I have instruction for you, which you must follow to the letter.” Agamemnon nodded. “Whatever you ask. Any sacrifice will be supplied.” Zeus waved a hand dismissively. “That won't be necessary.” When he described what would be, Agamemnon was certainly confused. * * * * Kinan had slept in Apollo's throne, and woke up to a temple priestess bringing her a breakfast of cheese and grapes. It wasn't bad eating at all, though Kinan doubted the hygiene of the kitchen staff. She was lounging in the throne, kicking her legs back and forth, when Hector came running into the temple completely out of breath. She stopped kicking her legs and got immediately erect and godlike. “What is it?” She asked. Hector bowed, and then fell to his knees. “My lord Apollo, the Greeks have given us a gift, a giant wooden horse, the symbol of their god Poseidon.” Kinan rose to her feet. They weren't supposed to be doing that yet, it was way too early in the war for that! Then again she had messed up history... But then her mind snapped into place. Of course. She'd gotten what she wanted. They'd noticed her. “Take me to it.” She ordered. Hector rose, bowed again, and led her to the horse, which Jenny and Lametrius were already inspecting. Helen was walking around the horse, imitating the voices of Greek soldier's wives to draw them out if they were inside it. “Why did you bring it inside the city walls?” Kinan asked Hector. “The King ordered it my lord, the Greeks have packed up their camp and--” She walked past him. She'd read the book. The horse was big, and looked just like you've seen in the movies. She approached it, and ran her hand along the wood. Jenny and Lametrius approached her. “There's no one inside it.” Jenny said. “Are you sure?” Kinan said. “Nearly positive.” Lametrius replied. “I'd have to crack it open to be sure.” Kinan nodded. “I'll take a look inside it myself. Is there an entry point?” Lametrius pointed to a spot on the horse's belly. Kinan walked below it, and testing her legs for a moment, jumped straight up to grab onto the spaces between the planks of the wood. Lifting her legs up, she kicked out the hatch, as the crowd around the horse gasped, then swung inside it with an acrobatic leap. Kinan stared around in the darkness, and pulled out a flashlight, which she shone around the empty center. There was only one thing in the darkness: a single metal capsule. Approaching it, Kinan examined the markings on it, bringing the flashlight close to read the words.... Then stepped back, dropped the flashlight, and scampered backwards nearly falling out of the hole. Composing herself, she elegantly dropped down out of the hole, and tried to look as calm as she could as she walked towards her comrades. “So what's in there?” Jenny said, throwing a rubber ball she'd somehow acquired up in the air over and over again. “We have a situation.” Kinan said softly. “What kind of situation?” “They put a nuclear bomb inside of the Trojan horse.” “What!?!” Jenny and Lametrius said in unison. “Not so loud.” Kinan whispered, “The crowd is still here.” “And why hasn't it gone off?” Lametrius asked. “Because they wanted to wait till we were right next to it in case we-- Oh.” Kinan reached into her bag, and began running, she started pouring crystal dust in a circle, and Jenny and Lametrius followed. John and Miranda, who had been lazily sipping wine over by a haberdashery, leapt into action as well. The five of them made a circle of crystal dust around the horse, which Kinan struck with her sword, and a white swirling portal appeared inside of. The horse fell through, as Kinan crossed her fingers it wouldn't go off. Not yet, at least. As the ears of the horse sunk through the ground, she let out a sigh of relief. “Hector, tell your father not to trust Greeks bearing gifts.” Apollo yelled as the swirling hole in reality closed. Zeus and Poseidon were enjoying the attention from the Greeks, but they also very much just wanted to get on with trying to fix the mess in chronology that Kinan had caused. “May we offer you more wine?” Menelaus asked. “No, we're fine.” Poseidon said. “Look, uh, my Lord. This whole war was stared because my property, you know, my wife Helen ran off with this guy named Paris because he 'treated me like a person' or something silly. Anyways, she's really really hot, and I know you're going to wreak vengeance on the city, but is there any chance you could get her back and make her into me again?” Poseidon and Zeus looked at each other, and each of them sighed internally. “Look....” Zeus began. “No.” Poseidon finished. “Okay, yeah, that's cool I mean...” Poseidon shoved him away and walked to the portcullus of the ship. There was something falling from the sky. “Arbiter.” She said, giving up on the beard, “We have a problem.” Zeus shoved her aside, and looked up at the falling nuclear horse. “Well that's not good.” * * * * The mushroom cloud could be seen for miles. It had taken all of their efforts to shield the city from radiation, mainly with a portable shield generator they'd rigged up, but the truth was that they were low on crystal dust as it was, and very short on time. The city would likely die of radiation poisoning, and their crops and the fish in the sea were all either dead or poisonous. They'd have to evacuate all of Troy somewhere else. The blinding white flash had stunned the city, and they watched the Greek fleet vaporized from afar, not entirely aware what they had even just witnessed. The streets of the city bowed before them, and Lametrius and John looked fairly uncomfortable with it. “Jesus Christ Kinan. You dropped the nuke on them. Jesus.” “Maybe I finally have their attention. I was hoping the harp would be enough.” Several minutes passed in silence, and then two black robed figures stepped out of a suddenly appearing swirling portal. Kinan looked into the crowd and saw a woman clutching a wooden stool to her chest. She gestured for her to come forward, and she did so. Kinan took the stool from her, sat down, and puled her harp out of her bag to begin playing it. The figured approached her, the city surrounded them. “You moron. You killed every Greek who went into this war. You've ruined the history here. The Nuclear fallout alone...” “You did that, actually.” The other figure cut in, “We wanted you to run away! End your pointless game. We had safeguards in place so it didn't extend outside the city... But you ruined that!” Kinan kept strumming the harp. “You seem to be at a complete loss as to what I want.” The two figures looked at each other, then crossed their arms in tandem. “Okay, then, what do you want?” The male figure said. “This.” Kinan replied. “What do you mean, 'this', an ecological and chronological disaster?” “No, for you to actually show up and listen to me. Do you even realize how hard it is to talk to you?” “Dawn is a criminal and illegal army not recognized by the Last Firmament.” The female figure said. “Yes, and thus, its very hard for me to get to speak to you.” The strumming continued. It sounded like 'Smoke on the Water.' “I called you, I sent ambassadors to you, I made friends with groups who you kicked out like the Knights of Sky. I tried over and over, yet you're willing to talk to a Council that burns whole worlds rather than me. So I did the only thing you couldn't resist: I burned history to the ground, and I did it dramatically. I played god, and got ontop of the high horse you reserved for yourself. Isn't it fun?” The Arbiter was becoming angrier. “No, its not fun. The damage to this reality is nearly irreparable!” A humored sigh escaped the mask of Apollo. “Now now gods, we all know that isn't true. Dawn is more than willing to help. As long as the resulting fix doesn't involve the casualties or war crimes that it would if it had run its course naturally.” The Arbiter gritted his teeth, then got himself new teeth and gritted those instead for a more satisfying sound. “Fine. We'll fake the Greek army's memories. But for you to change history, you yourself will now have to go back in time before you went back in time and stop your own actions.” “I'm not a newbie, I know how it works.” “Only you can-” “Yes. But for me to do that, you have to listen.” The Arbiter threw up his hands. “Fine, what exactly do you want to talk about?” Kinan set down the harp and stood up. Her blue eyes shone through the gaps in the mask. “You have a treaty with the Council. A Council who will burn whole worlds worse than the Greeks would burn this city. What if I told you I could make that treaty null and void, would you be willing to sign a new pact, one against their Empire? After all, they've basically made you into their tribute state. You're poor gods as it is.” The Arbiter crossed his arms. “We might.” “Good.” Kinan said, her face was the sun, and it reflected all things. The Firmament changed before her. “Then lets talk. An end to our war, if I bring you an end to your own subjugation.” “Fine, but could you take that mask off already?” Apollo cocked his head. “I'm not sure I understand, this is my face? Or perhaps you should go first. After all, I've always been the sun.”
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Our hiatus continues with yet another bonus story! This one has been broken up into two parts, look for the second half soon! -Jim If you missed it, check out our big announcement about the Finale of the serial 10,000 Dawns story! http://www.jameswylder.com/home/dawn-rises-march-3rd-the-10000-dawns-finale-is-coming If you're new to 10kd, you can read all of it for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can read this story in PDF or Epub formats below:
The Mask of Apollo (Part 1) by James WylderLametrius carefully brushed the dirt off of the golden mask. Behind her, J-14 continually scanned her excavation, while Kinan and Jenny played cards on a mostly-flat rock. John and Miranda Vice were watching something on a tablet, while a few other Dawn members bustled around the dig site.
“Is it all dug out yet?” Jenny said sullenly. “Hush.” Kinan said, playing a card that brought a scowl to Jenny's face. Lametrius had finally worked away the excess dirt, and pulled out her flashlight, sticking it inbetween her teeth. It was daytime, but she wanted to see it shine, and oh did it shine. Gently, she lifted the mask out of the soil, and ran her thumb across it. “Its in such good shape... I can't believe its so intact.” Jenny slapped a card down and swept a pile of cards up off the rock. “Its so intact cause we traveled back in time to get it.” “I thought it would be more, you know, melted.” Kinan folded, and walked over to the dig site. She hopped down into the hole, and looked at the shining mask. “Huh.” She said. Lametrius frowned. “You see one of the most beautiful pieces of goldworking in history, and you say 'huh'?” Kinan shrugged. “This is the mask of a God!” “This is the mask of a man who dressed up as a god. Not that there is much of a difference.” “Oh not this again.” Jenny cut in. Lametrius carried the mask out of the hole, and held it up to the sun. It was an important mask after all, and this was its counterpart. It was only right the mask of Apollo see the sun. It's features were perfect: some Trojan craftsman had put all their knowledge into this mask, and even a strong oponent of religon could see how someone could be taken in by its majesty. Without any pomp or grandeur, Kinan lightly took the mask out of her hands, and placed it upon her face. Turning to the group, she held her arms out as though telling the sun to continue its journey through the sky. “Well, how do I look?” She'd hate the truth, because she looked utterly like some sort of demi-god. With her binder on under her shirt, and the boyish features of the Apollo mask, Kinan took on an androgynous beauty out of myth. “I think,” Miranda said, “that you're going to play the part in your plan perfectly.” * * * * The halls of the Firmament's government were older than time. Not that that was a sentence that particularly made sense, but it was true, sort of, maybe. At the very least people liked to say it was. Today though, the Courier of Stagnation was wishing that perhaps someone could have updated the internal transportation system. Maybe they could at least key her soul to the elevator so she wouldn't have to run up the steps? She was here to see the Arbiter of Chronology, and that was never the most fun. At least the Arbiter of Causality or the Arbiter of Infinity had a sense of humor. The Arbiter of Chronology on the other hand may as well have written a book on not getting people's jokes. Actually, he might have actually done that. She wasn't particularly sure anymore. She got to his thick Oak doors, and knocked. Then she knocked again. Eventually a hooded figure cracked the door. “Yes?” “You know damn well why I'm here Lesser of Evils, and don't even try to pretend you're Greater of Good it still hasn't been funny since you started that last milenia.” The hooded figure awkwardly got out of her way as she barged into the Arbiter's office. “Hey, Arbiter.” She said boldly. The Arbiter looked up, annoyed. “You do realize Dawn number 624 is having a massive, massive temporal disturbance right now?” “I'm aware.” He droned. The room was coated in bookshelves-- and that wasn't an exaggeration. Bookshelves lined every wall, they were on the ceiling, somehow held in place from falling on their heads, and they sat below their feet. The Arbiter's desk was made of wood, but it too was stacked with books. “I'm very busy writing history you know. There is quite a lot of it, and the annoying thing about it is it keeps happening. I really have a lot to catch up on.” Stagnation rolled her eyes, and moved to sit down. Books flew up from the floor to make a chair for her. She straightened her black robes, and tried to make the single off-center yellow stripe on them straight. “If we don't fix this, we're going to have a serious problem on our hands. There are massive chronological repercussions to this, it seems very likely most people we were planning on having be born in that universe's future, indeed counting on, will not be.” He looked up from his book, and placed his quill in a holder. “Explain.” “Its Dawn. They're changing things.” “Dawn is always changing things. That's essentially their entire reason for existing. But usually they only manipulate later history, which is fairly innocuous.” She slammed her fist on a book on his desk dramatically, and he gave her a sour look. She pulled her hand back apologetically. “Look, Arbiter, this is early history.” “They wouldn’t dare. They know what happened why they tried to change the result at old Nojpeten…” She leaned in. “They dare. You want to know what they did?” He sighed. “Sure.” * * * * Achilles walked in front of the Greek line, yelling his speech. He was talking them up, but also talking himself up. He hoped Patroclus was listening, after all, he was basically the cutest thing alive. He banged on his breastplate dramatically. Agamemnon and Menelaus were watching from the back. They were dressed in the best armor money could buy, but they knew who should go first. Looking up at the walls, Achilles had a momentary sense of doubt. Could they break these walls? Take Troy? He knew hypothetically they could… But in practice? He shook his head and beat his chest. He was a gorilla, or a lion, or… He tried to tell himself he was a man and cast out the doubts of his young age. “Tonight, my Myrmidons, we will strike the heart of Troy, and they shall fear us for eternity!” The troops cheered, pounding the pommels of their spears into the dirt and yelling and chanting. Achilles soaked it all in, he was glorious, he was a-- “Fool.” A booming voice said from the walls of Troy. “Are you not aware this is my city?” The gates opened, and the Myrmidons formed a shield wall, as a single figure walked out of the gates. The figure wore a long brown coat, and their face shone like the sun, molded of gold. In one hand they held a simple stool carved from a log, and in the other they held a harp. The figure faced the army, threw its stool down, sat on it, and began to strum out a refined melody on the harp. Everyone expected something to change but it just... Kept playing. The soldiers looked at each other confused. Achilles was right there with them, but kept his calm. Looking back to Agamemnon, he hoped for an order. Agamemnon gestured to an archer, who notched his bow and carefully aimed an arrow at the harpist. With a downward chopping motion, he gave the signal, and the arrow let fly! The harpist's hand moved like a whiplash, and grabbed the arrow out of the air, lightly dropped it on the sandy soil, and returned to strumming their harp. That certainly hadn't been what Achilles or Agamemnon expected. Achilles ran back through the lines to consult with the Kings. Most of them looked shocked, Odysseus was laughing his head off, however. “That was downright impossible.” Agamemnon sputtered. “We'll just wait them out, he'll have to get tired sometime.” Menelaus muttered. Odysseus laughed again, rolling his eyes. “Meneleus, do you really think a creature from heaven or earth with the skill to grab an arrow on the air doesn't know exactly what they are doing in standing in front of us?” He chided. “He's goading us!” Agamemnon yelled. “How are we so sure its a man?” Achilles asked. All turned to him. Agamemnon raised his arms in greeting. “Ah, our finest soldier. What insights do you have?” Achilles thought for a moment, Odysseus watched him. They met eyes, and Odysseus nodded, as if very curious what the boy had to say. “They're trying to confuse us. It doesn't matter what action we take here, regardless of how we respond our men now know that the enemy can drop us to a standstill.” Odysseus smiled, and nodded to him. Agamemnon was a bit less calm, in that he began to throw a temper tantrum, yelling and kicking, and landing several blows on his cup bearer who crumpled over clutching his head, the wine he was carrying sinking into the ground. “There's no need for that...” Odysseus said, with exasperation. They waited it out. “Achilles!” He finally yelled, “Go kill that harpist.” Achilles nodded, and without another word began to walk through the lines to the harpist. He reached the golden masked figure, and drew his sword. The music stopped, and the figure slowly raised its golden face to him. Beneath the mask, he could see pale blue eyes. Neither of them moved for a moment, Achilles' chest rose and fell, and he pointed his sword at the harpist. “Arm yourself.” The harpist slowly tilted their head. “Arm myself? What if I'm an army.” Achilles spat on the dirt. “You're just a man with a boring sense of humor.” “Am I?” It said back. “Someone really should have told me that before, I had no idea.” It began to play the harp again, and he thrust the sword under the man's mask. “Fight me or die.” “You can't kill a god, mortal. Didn't you hear what I said? This is my city.” Achilles felt his sword wobbling in his hands, and then it was pulled free! It flew spinning through the air, up to the top of the city walls. “Its time for you Greeks to go home.” Achilles was stunned, the troops were stunned, the kings were stunned. The figure resumed playing its harp. “You can call me Apollo. I will go back in the city walls at sundown.” Achilles nodded, totally unsure of what he was suppose to say in reply to that. “Go, shoo. Tell your kings to go home.” “They brought us here. Paris kidnapped Helen, Menelaus' wife and--” The god laughed. “You really believe that? That the woman who taunts you every day from the city walls is here not of her own choice? You're being played for a fool Achilles. These men hold no love towards you aside from your skill with a sword. Do you really think they care for your life, or the life of your lover Patroclus?” Achilles blushed. “We uh... Aren't lovers...” “Achilles, don't lie to a god please its just embarrassing.” “...Okay fine we're lovers.” Apollo threw his hands out. “See? That wasn't so hard. Anyways everyone knows it. Well, aside from a few Historians who desperately want to ignore textual evidence who will say you're 'friends' but, they're the minority. You have a nice boyfriend. Don't die here with him.” Achilles took a step backwards, still facing Apollo, and then another, and then another. He made his way all they way back to the lines of his men, bumping into one of their breastplates. “Achilles, what did they say?” Agamemnon yelled, but Achilles didn't wait any longer. He pushed threw the soldiers, and made his way back to the camp. Finding his way to their tent, he pulled it open, and stepped inside, Patroclus sat up from the cot. “Achilles, what...” But Achilles didn't say anything, he simply ran to his lover and kissed him. “We're leaving.” He said, “This war is for fools.” * * * * “So do you see why we need to intervene?” Courier of Stagnation exclaimed. “They're ruining everything! That reality is going to be massively changed.” The Arbiter nodded, slowly. “Well then, I suppose its time to take drastic action.” Courier smiled, good. “Its time for Dawn to face the night.” Tune in soon for the dramatic conclusion! And make sure you visit jameswylder.com on March 3rd for the final chapters of the Serial 10,000 Dawns Adventure! You've waited patiently......And now we can finally tell you when you can read the dramatic resolution to the 10,000 Dawns Adventure!
Dawn Rises March 3rd: The 10,000 Dawns Finale For immediate release. On March 3rd, 2016 the weekly journey readers have been taking for over half a year with the serial fictions story “10,000 Dawns” on jameswylder.com will come to an end, and a whole new set of futures will rise to follow it! Written by James Wylder, and illustrated by Annie Zhu, 10,000 Dawns tells the story of a girl named Graelyn who is thrown into an alternate reality by a failed experiment, and finds herself having to confront paths in her life she never thought she could take. Filled with adventure, drama, and soft character moments, 10,000 Dawns is a unique Sci-Fi story about travelling through universes, finding yourself, and cats. With a steady readership eager for the conclusion, Mr. Wylder and Ms. Zhu have chosen to release the last three chapters of the story together on March 3rd, so the ending can be enjoyed to the fullest. But that’s not all, long with three full chapters of the story, the finale will also include bonus features such as: Interviews with the creative team behind 10,000 Dawns, essays, A deleted scene from the Serial tale (that’s still canon!), and most importantly of all… A preview of the exciting follow up, coming this summer: “10,000 Dawns: Anthology” which will expand and explore the universes of 10,000 dawns with all new adventures by writers such as: Josephine Smiley, Taylor Elliott, Jordan Stout, Elizabeth Tock, Luther Siler, Evan Forman, Genevieve Clovis, Brianna Stanford, James Wylder and more! If you haven’t read 10,000 Dawns, now is the perfect time to catch up on the story (for free!) at jameswylder.com. There is also an audio podcast version of every chapter available (still for free!) from the Southgate Media Group. 10,000 Dawns Story Archive: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter Southgate Media Group Page: http://www.southgatemediagroup.com/10000dawns Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/10000Dawns Twitter: @10Dawns Tumblr: http://10000dawns.tumblr.com Some important news before we start! If you're listening to our audio version (which is still a bit behind) this week you're going to notice we have a new theme song! The amazing Indianapolis musician Alex Rose has contributed our new theme song, "Space Adventure"! Its a wonderful song that really hits both the joy and sadness of 10,000 Dawns, and we really hope you enjoy it. Its going to be on her new album "Written All Over You" later this year, so keep a lookout for it! As a special treat you can download an MP3 of the song right here:
You can find Alex Rose on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/Alexroseandthemagicalacoustic And her Bandcamp (with another free download!) here: http://alexroseandthemagicalacoustic.bandcamp.com Second, check back here tomorrow for the results of our 10,000 Dawns Bonus Story and Art Contest. Voting was intense, and went right up to the wire, so you won't want to miss the results! Third off, yes, this is the last 10kd Chapter for a few weeks (but not story!). We'll be dropping the last few chapter all in one bundle in a few weeks, and we can promise you it will be worth the wait! Till then we will have bonus chapters filling in the gap, so you won't be going a week without 10kd in your life! Its been a joy bringing this story to you, and I can't wait to see it to the end... -Jim Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder All chapters are now available as a podcast from the Southgate Media Group! You can subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can download the latest chapter below in PDF or epub formats:
Chapter 25: Half-Millenia MonstersDave Barker wiped the sweat off his face. The bomber was diving too fast, and the controls weren't responding. After all the flack they had taken, he wasn't surprised, but he still tried` jerking the controls, flipping the switches. He knew he was dead, but he still tried. He looked at the picture of Katherine he had pinned up on the console. He sighed.
“Our lives are just, corporeal tangents you know.” He said, stirring the coffee a year and a half ago. She laughed, “What on earth does that even mean?” “It means that our souls are eternal, we live on in our spirits and the lives we touch. Bits of us live on in humanity, we keep around bits of our history just by the act of existing. Each of us is just a corporeal manifestation of a part of the larger story of humanity, a tangent that is going to end someday in a grave. But though the tangent stops, the writer always gets back on course, and takes us somewhere new, carrying on parts of the past, not the best or the most good parts, more important than that, the parts that mattered enough for us to make as corporeal in our own flesh.” “You are a pretentious snot Dave.” He smiled, “I am, but I honestly believe that.” She raised her cup of coffee in a sort of salute, “Then maybe sincerity is part of your tangent.” “Maybe I can be part of yours.” “Is that your pick up line? A giant rambling pseudo-philosophical rant? Seriously.” He shrugged, “I can't do anything better than a rambling rant, especially the pseudo-philosophical kind.” She smirked. “Then maybe sincerity is something I can get behind. At the very least, it will make an interesting tangent.” He'd made her that pin, and now she'd never see him-- THUD. He looked behind him, there was a woman there in a slightly baggy grey-white jumpsuit with a strange metal collar, she had a helmet in one of her hands, and glasses on her face. “How the-” “No time.” The woman pulled out something like a blow torch, and burned out a chunk of the floor in a split second. Jerry had come up from the back and was staring as well. She reached in, and placed a weird thing like a disk with metal spider legs in the hole, which began gyrating and whipping its limbs around. He felt the controls responding to his touch, and he jerked the plane back into the air. “Special agent Graelyn Scythes. Don't ask how I got on the plane, its classified or something. Oh and look, I have a pin that looks just like yours, remember that.” “Dave what's going on?” “Shut up Jerry. Now Dave, lets get this plane back home.” * * * * * They landed to some surprise, and there was a big bustle as people ran up to the airplane. “How did you make it out alive?” the usual banal banter you get when people survive an ambush. Graelyn rolled her eyes at the soldiers and officers who questioned why she was here, and flashed her forged identification, and then saw the base commander whom she showed her forged letter from FDR to. Knowing where she was going had its advantages. She didn't pay too much attention through all of it, She heard a big mix of “its an honor to have you here” and sexist 1940's garbage. She took the boat back to the country called the “United States” with all the enthusiasm of someone forced to go on a vacation they didn't want to. She tried to enjoy herself, to see the sights and taste the treats, but it all felt hollow. The boat rocked on the ocean as she sunned herself on the deck reading a book. The captain had protested, but she had a letter from FDR. She read a paperback copy of “the Great Gatsby”, a book about a man who tried to bring the past back by building his own private empire. But the past didn't come back and somebody shot him dead. “You can't bring back the past.” “Oh but you can, old sport. You can.” She rubbed her eyes from under her large sunglasses. Everyone wanted to go to the past it seemed but Graelyn, and she was the only one doing it. Life was often ironic and unfair. She thought about Arch, longing for his lost family. She could see him turning into Gatsby, rebuilding his home and trying to replicate his strange dead society... But it wouldn't work. She looked out at the ocean and it felt as far away to her as her own passions. She closed the paperback, finished, and turned over to sun her back. This tangent had no meaning to her, but at least she could get a tan. * * * * She was greeted at the docks by many men in military uniforms. She wished there had been some women in the gang sent to find her, and was sorely disappointed by the past. “Graelyn Scythes?” A man in a very starched uniform said. “Thats-a-me.” She replied. “By the order of the United States Government, you're under arrest for forging executive documents.” “Am I?” She replied. “You treasonous dog.” “I'm not a US Citizen you know, I'm actually Russian.” He scowled. “Pink commie.” “I literally celebrate Alexander Hamilton's birthday as a holiday, lets not get carried away here.” The man's scowl deepened. “I have orders to take your disrespectful self to meet with the President himself. Now I don't know why he wants to meet with you...” “Because I'm a hero, now get me in the car already.” She sighed, leaning on the rail of the gangplank. He narrowed his eyes. “Follow me.” The White House was a museum, in Graelyn's time, and she'd visited there when her Father in Annapolis had gotten some visitation time with her. He'd shown her through the building, telling her facts about the different rooms. She'd even gotten to sit in the President's chair. The museum didn't get that many visitors, but it got enough to keep itself funded. She had spun around in the chair a few times while the tour guide texted his boyfriend on his cellphone, and imagined ruling a nation from that spot. “I could get used to this.” She had thought to herself. “Come on Graelie, I'll show you the picture of your favorite.” Holding his hand, they walked to the painting of Alexander Hamilton. She stared. Slowly, they made their way through paintings of other important figures. “Who is that one dad?” “That,” her father said, “is Franklin Dellano Roosevelt. He, Winston Churchill, and Joseph Stalin helped win World War II together. He also interred people from Japan in camps during the war.” “You mean Japanese spies?” “No, just everyday people.” She nodded, and they moved on. She wished, as she was led through the White House while it was actually used, that she had paid more attention then. She was wearing her dress clothes again, rather than the spacesuit, so at least she looked nice, even if she was still looking massively anachronistic. A man led her to the President's office, and opened the door. Stepping in, she saw the silhouette of a man at a desk, a think line of smoke rising from a cigarette in a holder in his mouth. “So,” FDR began, “you're our mysterious visitor.” “And you're the leader of the Former Uni- of the United States of America.” An eyebrow raised on the man's face, and he gestured for her to come closer. He didn't look as ominous up close. He looked tired, ill, old. “My name is Graelyn Scythes.” “So I've been told. You saved one of our airplanes, popping in out of nowhere on it, and then saved the pilot and the crew from certain death. Then you used a forged letter I never wrote in order to get through several layers of security.” Graelyn nodded, taking a seat in front of the desk. “Yep, that about sums it up actually.” “So then, I think you owe me an explanation.” Graelyn shrugged, reached into her pocket, pulled out her tablet, and switched it to hologram projection mode. She then pulled up a hologram of a man walking on the moon, not Neil Armstrong obviously, just a guy taking a casual stroll, with the Earth in the background. The cigarette fell out of FDR's mouth, smattering ash on the desk. “I'm from the future.” She said. He nodded dumbly. “I've been sent here by the... United Nations Time Policing force. I'm here to retrieve another member of our personel that...” She was lying now, and winging it, and hoping she sounded believable. “...felll into enemy hands. It could upset the United States winning the war.” “Good God, another one of you.” “What?” “I mean, another time traveler. You get briefed on this when you become president, but I assumed three was going to be my limit. And none of them showed off their...” He waved at the hologram. “Usually they just shoot something in the office dramatically so it vaporizes, or show me a picture of my funeral or something. “Ah.” Graelyn said. “So, one of your agents has fallen into Nazi hands?” Graelyn nodded. FDR rubbed his forehead. “Do you know where?” She shook her head. “What's he look like? What's his name?” “Well, he's entirely coated in armor that acts like TV screens-” a knowing look came into FDR's eyes, and she stopped. He picked up is phone. “Bring the file on the Machine-Man in here imediately.” “Ah.” She said again, maybe this would be easier than she thought. “We were already planning on sending a mission there, an airdrop.” “Could I request Dave Barker be a pilot on the mission.” FDR picked up the cigarette, and puffed it. The smoke was noxious, and clearly filled with carcinogins. Graelyn scrunched her nose up. “I suppose so. We'll simply add you to the mission roster. Let you take care of your buisiness.” She nodded. “I do have one more question, sir.” He gestured with the cigarette for her to continue. She noted he was mainly using that arm. “Why did you inter the Americans of Japanese heritage during this war?” He puffed, and his face lowered so his glasses were white ovals of light. “You have to do these things in times of war.” “I mean, do you?” Graelyn pondered. “If the people aren't secure, you can't have a people.” That had seemed true to her for so long. Her mother had weaned her on that. If she could be stronger than other people, she was free. If she could have something to ruin them, some security like Arch's offswitch code, no one could hurt her. Said the people who hurt her. She felt a bit dizzy, but she asked the next question. “But if you treat your own people like they are your enemy, if you hurt your friends to show your other friends you are strong and that people who like hurting the innocent won't hurt them while you're hurting the innocent, isn't that kind of messed up?” She decided that might be too coloquial, and added, “Doesn't that sink you from the moral high ground?” He looked up at her, “I take it that decision is not remembered well.” “Only by those who look for excuses to hurt the innocent while looking like saints.” He nodded, and they sat in silence. After a few minutes, he gestured for her to leave, and she did so. The next day, she was on a plane to Europe. Graelyn sat in the cockpit with Dave Barker. She was wearing her spacesuit, which kept her totally warm, everyone else was wearing thick jackets and breath masks. They'd be dropping by parachute just outside the compound, and working their way in. The Nazis were being pushed back towards Berlin, so she had no idea how many people would still be guarding this base, but hopefully not many. They flew through the clouds, and started to descend to the altitude they would drop from. Dave gestured to her, and she saluted, and made her way back, leaving a folder on her seat. She hadn't given him much info, but damn it, he deserved to know something. “Agent Scythes,” The ground commander Captain Noble said, “are you ready to jump?” Graelyn nodded, her parachute was already on her back. They waited till they were in position, and then a door in the side of the plane slid open. One by one they jumped into the darkness. “I'm coming Arch.” She thought. “I'm not leaving you behind.” * * * * “Ah, you're finally awake.” Said the man in the black uniform with the scarred face. “My name is Doctor Heisman, do you know who I am?” The machine man nodded. “You asked me that yesterday.” Archimedes said. “And the day before. “Just seeing how you are managing to cope without food and water.” He didn't tell them he had internal stores of both, and that he was operating in low-power mode anyways. They still worked at least, not like some of his systems. “And what, pray tell, is that?” Heisman said, gesturing to the deactivate orb. When they'd landed in that field in Germany, it had switched off. The impact maybe? Maybe it had lost its connection with its masters? Maybe he'd just pulled on the right thing in its insides. “Its a modern art piece I made, its fractures represent your fragile masculinity and constant need for affirmation.” The doctor's eye twitched, and picked up the crowbar. Angrily, he smacked Arch in the head with it. Once, twice, three times, ten times, twenty times... The cracks on his helmet where they had been focusing their blows grew. “Where do you come from?” “Space.” Smack. “Who sent you here?” “Your mother to tell you how disappointed in you she is.” Smack. “Someday I will just kill you, and figure out how you work.” “I'll just explode if you do that, so that will be fun for both of us.” He wasn't even lying. Arch had been trying to keep doctor Heisman busy. When he tried to get information out of Arch, who was shackled up against the wall with exceedingly thick chains and manacles, he forgot to experiment on the twins, and that was something Arch would take as much pain as possible to prevent. Luckily for Arch, he could turn his pain receptors off. He was fairly certain he had a skull fracture right now, but he didn't feel it. Occasionally, the doctor and his aides would try to look through the gashes in his sides the Orb had made. They didn't know what they were looking at, luckily. They also tried to look inside the Orb, and Arch secretly wished they'd accidentally activate the thing again. The twins were huddled together, or their equivalent of that when the Nazis were in the room, which was to sit together with their arms touching. Their heads were shaved, and they looked ill. From what the guards had said, these weren’t the first set of twins they'd had in the builing. From when he'd spoken to them when they were alone, he'd learned they were named Lala and Mirela, and were from a group of people called the Romani. He tried to give them a reasurring look, but wasn't sure he could in his curent state. His carapace flared with broken images. The doctor stepped back, in sudden awe. Then one of the side doors burst open. “Sir,” a Nazi guard said, running into the room, “We've been found.” “What do you mean we've been found? This base is buried inside a mountain.” The guard was sweating. “Sir, I mean there is a girl and a group of Allied soldiers. She has some device that is opening all of our doors.” The doctor gestured with his crowbar. “That's impossible!” * * * * Corporal Halsey took out the last of the guards in the room as Graelyn ran to the next door, tablet in hand. “I still can't believe what you're doing.” Captain Noble said. Graelyn shrugged. “Its just an app. I downloaded it for fun a few years ago.” Old mechanical locks like this were nothing when you could just move all the parts around the electro magnet in her tablet. She didn't even have to do anything, she just put her tablet up to the lock and pressed the button. “What's that on your.... Screen?” Noble asked. “Oh! That's a yogurt ad. Its a free app, so, you know, it gets supported by ads.” He nodded, clearly not entirely understanding. “Right.” “Ope, all done.” * * * * Doctor Heisman was nervous. This wasn't supposed to happen. He had security, damn it, and they were supposed to stop things like this from happening. The allies couldn't possibly be able to manipulate locks, dead bolt seals... They couldn't! But they were, so now was no time to question it. He looked at his experiments. The twins, the machine-man, the orb. He gritted his teeth. “We need to get rid of the evidence. Especially the other twins.” The remaining guards had entered the room. “We need to prepare for a stand sir!” Said the captain of the guard. “No, we need to-” They were cut off, as main doors to the chamber flew open, and a group of Allied troops including of all things a Russian teenager ran into the room. She held a black rectangle, they held rifles. The guards who raised their guns were picked off, swift shots to the head by trained marksmen. After this, the smart ones dropped their weapons. The teenager ran over to the machine man, and stroked his face. “Oh God Arch, look what they did to you...” There were holes in his sides, and electric shock devices had been stuck in there. She carefully began to unclip them and pull them off. Doctor Heisman tried to flee, but was tackled by an Allied soldier, who gave him a rifle butt to the face. “Jesus,” one of the soldiers said, kneeling by the twins, “sir, these are just kids over here.” The surviving Nazis were disarmed, and cordoned off in a corner of the room with armed guards, while the rest of the squad began to look through it. A medic began attending to the two children. “I'm alright, Grae.” Arch said, his voice was modulated and distorted. His carapace flickered as he spoke. “No, you really aren't.” She moved her hands along his injuries, “How bad do your damage sensors say it is?” “...Well a lot of those are broken.” Graelyn shook her head, doing her best to patch him together how little she could. “Why did you save me Arch? I should have been the one in chains. I tripped, I...” “You're my friend.” She wanted to argue, she really did, but she just nodded. The Captain tapped her on the shoulder. “Agent Scythes, when you have the time we found a locked door we can't open.” She nodded, and examining Arch's chains, pulled the blowtorch out of her bag. “Ma'am, I think those chains are too thick for a blowtorch.” She wanted to say, “Not one from the future.” But she just gave him a sly grin, and did them in. “Will you be okay Arch?” He tried to stand up, but couldn't. “I'll just rest for a bit.” She reached out to put her hand on his shoulder, but pulled it back. “I'll be right back.” The Captain led her to the door he'd spoken of, and she passed the twins who were slowly trying to eat some soup while a group of soldiers tended to them. “Are those kids okay?” Graelyn whispered to the Captain. He shook his head. “From what we've gathered their parents are dead, and the Nazis have been doing experiments on them.” Graelyn's eyes widened. “You can't be serious.” “I'm afraid I am, ma'am.” She looked at the kids. One of the soldiers was singing them a silly song. She looked at the marks on their bodies that weren’t even hidden. She thought of her mother, and how this made that look like a cakewalk. She felt fire rise inside her. She looked back at the Nazis in the corner. It had been 500 years since the Nazis when she was born. They were boogeymen, evil phantoms of the past. Now they were all too real to her. It was like the version of them in her mind was one of a cartoon, and here in front of her was the real effects of it: starving, beaten, tortured children. She was all too aware this was real now, and her skin quaked. She shook her head, and lowered her tablet to the door. She activated the app. The little loading icon appeared, and then a big red X appeared “Lock damaged internally! Can't unlock!” That's wasn't normal. She felt the door around the edges: it had been melted shut into its frame. What was so important they would bother doing that, hastily and shoddily even, instead of leaving? Graelyn pulled out her blowtorch, and began to work around the edges. When she finished, she waited for the door to cool down, and then tested it to see if it moved on its hinges. It did. She smiled at the captain. “You don't mind if I do the honors, Captain Noble?” He shook his head. “All yours, Agent Scythes.” She tugged the heavy door open a crack, and slipped through. There was a moment where no one could see Graelyn and the room was silent aside from the soldiers trying to cheer up the children. Then she walked back into the room, her tablet hanging loosely from her hand, then clattering to the floor. She shook gently, her eyes wide and full of lines of red. She nearly stumbled over and put her arm against the wall. “Agent Scythes what-” Agent Noble began, but she interrupted him. She thew up, keeling over to her knees, still shaking. Arch looked worried, and tried to get up, but couldn't. Noble hurried over and put a hand on her. “What's wrong?” She looked up, her eyes boiling over, tears running down her face, and her hand reaching for the Captain's sidearm. “Give me that.” “Ma'am, you said you didn't want a gun when-” “I know what I said. Give it to me.” She whispered. Hesitantly. He handed her the gun. She staggered over to the Nazi prisoners, the Allied guards eyed her warily as she approached. “What did you see in there, Scythes?” Noble called, but she just kept walking. “You. You did that.” She looked at the scientists, doctor Heisman in particular. “I.. How could you I...” She began gagging again, and threw up a second time. She staggered up and pointed the gun at them. Noble ran after her, holding his hands up and getting up along side her. “Hold up Graelyn, don't do anything hasty.” “No this isn't hasty. This—Captain, you don't want to see what's in there I promise you.” “There's nothing that could provoke you killing these people.” She looked at him like she had seen hell. “Okay then, tell me what you saw. Lets be reasonable about this.” “There is nothing reasonable in that room, reason is the opposite of what is in that room...” Her eyes welled up again with tears, “there are bodies in there sir. Children's bodies. Twins. Dozens of them...” She backed up, losing her breath, supporting herself on the wall again for a moment before raising the gun again and gesturing towards the prisoners. “And they weren't just dead they were... Desecrated. You can't even imagine. You don't want to see it. I want to unsee it. How could you do that? To other human beings? What kind of person would you have to be?” She saw the room where her other self had cut into Johnathan. “What kind of monster?” “We were just following Heisman's orders!” One of them yelled, pointing at the doctor, “Please!” “Just following orders?” Graelyn's voice was loud enough to echo through the building. “JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS? There is no order that could justify that.” Graelyn walked towards the doctor, and placed the gun against the doctor's head. “I should shoot you right now. You deserve it.” She waited for him to reply. “They aren't real people.” He finally said. Her finger tightened a little on the trigger. She imagined she pulled the trigger. His brains blowing out the back of his head. She needed to kill him. He deserved it. What kind of person doesn't fall? She thought of Arch, and how he didn't kill Manuel, even when he could have. She thought of herself, in Songbird's world, and her crimes against humanity. That wasn't the real her. She knew that, deep inside. She wasn't a monster. She had to not be a monster. She wouldn't descend to their level. She wouldn't meet this injustice with terrified bloodshed. She took a deep breath, and lowered the gun, stepping back. “Captain, please relieve me of this firearm.” He nodded, and took it from her palm. Graelyn slumped to her knees she looked doctor Heisman in the eyes. “After this war there will be a trial, and you will be hung.” He scoffed. “I'm not showing you mercy. I'm showing you justice, and the world will see what you did here. Its not my job to punish you. Your victims will get to speak out against you, and you will crumble under their voice.” She got up, feeling weak, and went back over to Arch, she slumped down on the wall next to him. “You did the right thing.” She rubbed her eyes. “I'm not sure I did.” “You're not a monster, Graelyn.” She nodded. They sat in silence. She reached over, and held his hand. “We can't dally here, we need to get you to a place you can be repaired, and get the orb to a place someone can use it to prepare.” Arch nodded, as much as he could. “What if that was the same place?” Graelyn raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “I mean, that Heirum J. Whitehead guy owned a tech company right? Maybe he can do what we need.” Graelyn mulled it over. It wasn’t a bad plan, really. “So there would be a big tech company working on a way to fight the Council for a few hundred years. That sounds like exactly what we're looking for.” “If that's so, how do we get there?” Graelyn looked over at the broken orb. “I'll just have to fiddle.” As Graelyn went over to the Orb, the twins came over to Arch. “Hey, how are you guys feeling?” He said, fuzzily. “How are you feeling?” Mirela replied. “I asked first.” “Terrible, but better.” Lala answered. “Same here. But you kids, you've got to stick together. You're family, that means something.” “Its just us though....” Mirela said softly. Arch nodded, and then gestured to the Captain. “What is it? You feeling alright?” Noble said squatting down. “I'm fine. But we're going to have to leave here and I need to know these kids will be taken care of after the war, whatever that means.” Noble nodded, and smiled at the girls. “I'll keep track of them. We'll make sure they're provided for.” Arch felt something shift inside him, and was glad he'd turned his pain of... But it was still terrifying even so, and if the system broke that turned off the pain... “I'm glad to hear that captain.” Graelyn fiddled. Cursing she reached in, pulled out two cords that resembled the tendrils on the Pantheon alien she'd met before, and with a disgruntled sigh pushed them onto her temples, closing her eyes and waiting for the inevitable mental battle. She scrunched her eyes up, and steeled herself. “Please input a command!” A voice in her head thought. “Oh thank God for once this is easy.” The orb roared to life, its carapace lighting up in crystalline cracks and swirls. Graelyn thought about the date she needed to go to, and the Orb lit up. “Warning: systems damaged.” “Can you manage one more trip?” “Systems will focus on procuring one more time-space jaunt. Further uses may result in complete atomic breakdown of the nearby area.” She sighed, one more hop it is. “Arch, are you ready to go?” He nodded, and with the help of the soldiers, moved him over to the orb. Captain Noble took off his hat, and rubbed his scalp. “So, what exactly are you going to be doing with... Whatever that is?” “Tear a hole in reality in order to hop over to the future to prevent a future invasion from an alternate dimension.” He opened his mouth, but kept his teeth closed. “You'll be fine, its over half a milenia in the future. Anyways we're trying to stop it.” She looked over at Arch. He really didn't look in good shape. “You holding together?” “My pain inhibitors are breaking down. “Ah.” She said, and picked up the neural link cords. “You might want to step back guys, we're about to do wonders.” They did. “Good knowing you guys, Captain, troops, twins.” She saluted. They all did to, well, the twins waved. Arch weakly waved back. Graelyn plugged herself into the orb, and its spiky limbs sprung to life, weaving a portal of blue light, and tearing a hole in the world that they dove through, leaving behind yet another past. * * * * Doctor Heisman was led to the gallows after his conviction. Captain Noble, and his unit, as well as a pair of Romani twins he was apparently looking after had given unflinching testimony. The conviction was unquestionable. He tried to keep his head up as they put the noose around his neck. Someday, he thought, white people will rule this world with the lesser races in their place, and I will be remembered as a hero. He dropped. It wasn't quick. His feet turned gently in the breeze. After some time, his left shoe fell off. * * * * “It’s not working right!” Graelyn screamed, banging on the side of the orb. Arch could only weakly nod. They shifted and jinked, falling this way and that, and then a white hole opened up below them, and they crashed and rolled onto the ground. Graelyn tumbled, her suit absorbing her impact, mostly, as she came to a stop next to a chunk of concrete. Arch fell like a rag doll, and stopped, unmoving. This was absolutely not what was supposed to happen. Graelyn rose to her feet, and looked at the sky: it was filled with strange vessels, some of them raining what looked like molten gold down on the city below. The city burned. She looked back at Arch, and seeing him unmoving ran to his side. “Come on Arch, don’t give up now, come on…” She shook him gently, and me moaned. “Oh thank God…” She inspected his form, but wasn’t sure what she needed to do. His anatomy was so different! “I’ll be right back Arch, I’m going to find some help.” Graelyn scampered up, her head was still dizzy from the landing, but she couldn’t wait. She ran across the scorched earth, and came up to the crest of the hill. A sign in Cyrillic said the date: “Come ring in the new year with Centro News! 2496 is right at your finger tips!” “Oh no.” Graelyn whispered, as she watched a skyscraper tumble onto the streets below. “This is Moscow. We’re too late. We’re too late.” Next week, we'll be back with a bonus story, as well as the week after. Then, in three weeks time be ready for the final dramatic chapters of 10,000 Dawns: Serial! Dropping all at once, with bonus features! Get ready, its going to be good... Wow, we have a lot to tell you before we start this week! First off, the 10,000 Dawns Bonus story Contest is now in its voting stage! You can vote on one of five stories to decide which we will write, as well as choosing the artist who will illustrate it! You can vote on it right: here: http://www.jameswylder.com/home/10kd-bonus-story-contest-vote-and-meet-the-artists Second off, Annie and I have decided we're going to release the last few chapters of 10,000 Dawns all at once! After Chapter 25, we'll take a short break (filled with bonus stories, naturally) and then give you the dramatic conclusion to the story in one big bite! This will not only let Annie focus on getting the art right, but let you experience the ending the way it really should be read. We can't wait for you to read it, and we're so glad you came with us on this journey so far! Thirdly, Annie and I did a great interview with Barebones Entertainment about our work on 10kd. Its a fun read, so go check it out at the link below!: http://www.barebonesent.com/q-and-a-with-jim-wylder/ Finally, 10,000 Dawns: Anthology is well underway, and after Graelyn and Arch's tale ends, you can expect some really amazing stories from other writers and me later this year. You're gunna have a good time! We're so lucky to have fans like you, and we can't wait for you to see whats coming next! -Jim Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder All chapters are now available as a podcast from the Southgate Media Group! You can subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can download the latest chapter below in PDF or epub formats:
Chapter 24: RiseGraelyn found herself in a supply closet, it was too small for the orb to fit in, so she must have landed somewhere away from it. Her face felt raw and ached, like someone had been rubbing it with a metal file. Her legs were sorer than they had ever been, her lungs were still short of breath. Her belly throbbed with pain, and she suspected she might have broken ribs. She sort of hoped the blast had disabled her uterus permanently so she could live easier every month, but she suspected this wouldn’t be case. Life was full of disappointments. She wanted to get up and run after Arch, but she couldn’t, and she didn’t even know where he was anyways. Not to mention this pile of cleaning supplies was really quite comfortable, she should stock up when she gets home. Yes, quite comfortable. Yes, quite. The ceiling was incredibly white. She sat up, and felt the blood shift in her body suddenly, felt the IV’s pull on her arm. She wasn’t wearing her spacesuit—she was wearing a hospital gown. She held back any panic, and sat calmly, flexing her joints to guess how long she’d been asleep. It wasn’t a hard science, but it had to at least have been a few days. “Miss Scythes?” A man entered her room wearing a period Doctor’s outfit- excuse me- it was probably totally at home in this era, she was the anachronism wasn’t she? He was holding a tablet pc, and scrolling through some things on it. “I’m glad to see you’re up. We kept you sedated to keep you from pulling out any of the stitches, you had quite a bit of internal bleeding. “Is everything… Fine?” She said, still groggy. “Yes, thanks to modern medicine,” ha, “everything is working properly now. There was some extensive damage to your Uterus, Bladder, and Liver but they’re all back to normal, nothing to worry about.” She let her jaw slip in disappointment—she wasn’t going to do it herself or anything, but not having periods would have been great. “Don’t worry,” he said, totally misreading her, “You can still have children.” “Fantastic.” She muttered, and looked around the room, “Where exactly am I Doctor…” ah, a nametag! “Miles.” “You’re in St. Andrew’s Hospital, connected to St. Andrew’s University in Maryland.” “Okay. Second query: you knew my name, but I don’t think I was carrying any sort of identification.” The Doctor scrolled through some files on his tablet. “It says here the estate of your great Uncle Heirum J. Whitehead took care of it.” Graelyn had no uncle named that, let alone a great one. “Did he leave me a message? He usually does when he does things like this.” She lied briskly. The Doctor scrolled and tapped a few times. “It should be on the tablet by your bedside.” She picked it up, and read the just transferred note. She’d never met Heirum, but the guy sure could get things done. * * * * * She slept, and awoke. The window was open, and instinctively Graelyn slid out of bed, trying to ignore the pain, and walked over to it. On the sill was a butterfly, slowly moving its wings up and down. Graelyn peered down at it, there was something odd about it. Reaching down, she felt like she should pull its wings off, but held back, and put a finger down next to the creature. To her surprise, it climbed on. Raising it to her face, she looked it it. The wings were an ethereal blue, and their patterns and shapes were like nothing from nature. It seemed to glow. Her eyes shifted from the mesmerizing creature, which seamed to unfurl a new mystery with each beat of its wings, to the window: hospital windows didn't open. The butterfly took off, and Graelyn turned to see the walls and ceiling were coated with them. On the bed was a cat, but not a nice cat. Its eyes were malicious. It hissed, and she felt a songbird die somewhere. As its tail swished, the butterflies moved their wings in unison. Graelyn raised her arms, and the first notes of Mozarts 5th symphony played, like she was conducting it. And as she did so, the butterflies fell off the walls and the ceiling, and splattered into rain on the ground. The cat squealed in terror. And Graelyn woke up, sheets crumpled, still unable to walk. * * * * * It was another month before Graelyn was ready to leave the hospital, which had been in the note, so she didn’t fight it. It was pretty clear what was going on anyways, and if she could time travel from here it didn’t matter how long she lollygagged. She passed the time by eating lots of snacks and watching the video screen in her hospital room, or trying out socialization. Across the barrier in the same room was a girl named Alondra who had broken her leg on a school Ski-trip, and liked keeping a constant stream of words coming from her mouth like she was afraid if she left part of a conversation silent something would slip into her soul. She didn’t talk to Graelyn at first though, “I’d thought you weren’t going to wake up.” She said when they finally got to talking. “You were really beat up, there were weird burns on your face in stripes like you’d been lashed by a Balrog or something.” She raised her eyebrow, “Balrog?” “You know, flaming whip, big leathery wings, fights Gandalf—‘YOU SHALL NOT PASS!’” she said, slamming her tray with one hand while she pulled her long black hair into a fake beard. “Lord of the Rings?” “Oh. I see. I’ve never read it.” Alondra’s eyes went wide, “You’ve never ever read the Lord of the Rings? The Hobbit, at least?” Graelyn shook her head, and Alondra made a point of making the nurse bring her all four books. Graelyn was a bit grateful, Arch was older than her after all, more mature and yet totally sheltered due to his isolated upbringing. Graelyn had lived a solitary life, she wasn’t a social butterfly, she wasn’t even social or a butterfly. She liked her cocoon. Alondra was almost the same age as her, a little younger and treated her like it. She hobbled over and did Graelyn’s hair, though she was rubbish at returning the favor. Graelyn read through the four books quickly, and took on the Silmarillion (“Oh that’s a tough read you might not want to-“) and easily sped through that to. They were good books. Tolkien’s attempt to create a new mythology for England was a noble one, and Graelyn was struck how long it was since she had been to Russia at this point, outside of fifteen minutes of her own childhood of course. Those fifteen minutes had been the only time she’d spoken Russian for more than a few moments in the last year as well. She felt something welling up inside her she couldn’t put a label on. She remembered how she’d seen Arch as an experiment when she’d found him, something to explore rather than a person. If the accident hadn’t happened that had sent them spiraling through time, would she have taken him apart piece by piece like the roadkill in the woods? She hadn’t ever killed an animal, just taken apart dead ones, not that many people would understand the difference. What if she had killed Arch? She felt her home beating in her chest, and the guilt at losing Arch and almost betraying him. No, I wouldn’t have betrayed him. Surely. I’m not that person. “Do you dream Graelyn?” “Most of the time, usually.” Alondra’s nimble fingers were trying something complex and slightly poofy she seemed delighted with, “why do you ask?” “You were unconscious so long, I always wondered; If I were asleep that long maybe I’d go to another place, like I slipped through a hole in the world and my mind fell through.” “I’m not sure I’d go that far in believing something.” “Just hear me out—I mean, when I’m skiing I sometimes feel like as I go down the slope I’m not actually on the slope, like I’m just driving my body, my skis as much my limbs as my arms or legs. I lose track of what is and isn’t me. Which makes me wonder if my body is me—if there was a version of me with the same number of cells, the same genome, the same voice, but who didn’t feel the same way I did, would it really be me, or would it just like a black and white copy of a color picture—it shows the same thing but you know its different.” “This is awful hypothetical.” “Sorry to unload it all on you, my girlfriend usually gets the brunt of it, but she’s off at this teen space camp.” “You have a girlfriend?” “I didn’t mention her? Oh my God I didn’t mention her! She wanted to come visit but I told her she sure as hell wasn’t ruining her chance at space just to cheer me up. I usually call her when you’re asleep, you sleep a lot no offense, so we have some privacy. I can’t believe that I forgot to mention her!” Graelyn shrugged, which surprised Alondra and she had to start over at whatever she was doing with her hair. “Its alright. I haven’t mentioned a lot of people.” “Well tell me, where does Graelyn Scythes come from? That’s an unusual name.” “Russia. I was born in Moscow, but I grew up in a small farming town where my parents owned a house for a few years, before we moved back. There's not much to tell about it.” Her fingers weaved the shiny black strands of her hair again into a new shape. “Siblings?' “Curious aren't we?” “That's a pretty normal question.” Graelyn felt like shrugging, but refrained for the sake of Alondra's work. “I'm a very private person, and not a particularly normal one. I do have siblings. More than you'd expect, actually. But I keep in touch with none of them, and even less with my parents.” There was silence for a bit as she braided. Graelyn could faintly see in the small reflection on a monitor that her lips were pursed. “Did I say something dis-pleasurable?” “No, no no no, I just can't imagine growing up like that, you know? Or I guess you don't.” “Tell me about your girlfriend.” “Well,” she said with an aire of wispy longing in her tone, “June is-” “June?!?” Graelyn ejaculated. “Er, yeah.” “June Barker?” “Do you know her?” Graelyn thought how best to answer that question. It wasn't an easy one to really start. “Yeah, sort of. I doubt she remembers me. I've met her though, just once. I'm surprised I remember her to be honest. I was just so surprised, it seems like an awful big co-incidence.” Graelyn reached into her pocket and pulled out the cat pin, looking on it fondly, “Its hard to forget, we had the same pin.” Alondra looked at her hand, “you can't have the same pin. That's impossible, it’s a family heirloom.” “Is it? I didn't ask I just noticed.” “Could I see it.” Graelyn saw no reason why not, so she placed it gently in Alondra's palm, and then felt the urge to push down on it slightly so she could feel the shape of its nature, so she followed her own urges and pushed. It was an insignificant action, but it didn't feel like it, it felt like she'd pressed the button on a payload of bombs. Alondra looked on the backside of the pin and nodded, “It says here, ' DB to KL, corporeal tangent' and then a little heart symbol. “Corporeal tangent?” “It’s something one of her ancestors made for their fiancé when they went off to fight in the second world war. It’s made of copper, that's why the metal part is green, it patinaed and they decided they liked the way it looked green better than copper colored so they placed a sealant over it so it wouldn't rub off. They've passed it on over and over to the oldest sibling. Its handmade. There's no way you'd have it unless you stole it from her or she gave it to you.” “Call her. Ask her if she still has the pin.” Alondra bit her lip, “If you took it you're giving it back or I'm taking it from you.” Graelyn shrugged, Alondra having forgotten about the hair appointment. “Maybe he made a prototype, I don't know. I got it in a thrift shop.” “You're lying.” “Ask June.” Alondra didn't talk to Graelyn till she made the call, and seemed to treat her as though she wasn't even present in the same room as her till that time came. June appeared on the Holoprojector, clearly tired, “Can we keep it short tonight? They ran us through this machine that simulated a ton of G's and we all puked. I'm totally spent.” “June, do you still have your pin? The green one, with the cat on it?” She adjusted her camera so you could see her breast, it was clearly there, and her face showed the puzzlement of someone who had just been asked if she still had her hand. “Yeah? I only take it off if I have to.” Alondra looked over at Graelyn, who was trying to not have an “I knew I was right” expression plastered all over her face. She did a very good job. “That's... Weird.” “Not.... Really?” “I mean, the girl I'm rooming with here, Graelyn?” “Yeah?” “She has a pin just like that. It even has the same inscription.” “The exact same one?” “Yeah.” June paused, she nodded. “You need to call my mom.” Mrs. Barker arrived at 4:30, right as Graelyn was hitting chapter 19. She came bearing an old photo album, one of the ones made of paper bound with metal rings. The thing was an antique, and had been coated with some sort of transparent layer that strengthened and preserved it, but made it look funny to the eye, like it was a bad computer graphic. She first greeted Alondra; she seemed to get along with her daughter’s girlfriend swimmingly, like she was already a favored daughter in law. “Hello Graelyn.” She said after a time, coming over to her bed. She looked at her, the gaze of someone looking at someone you’d heard of, or seen in photographs, but never seen before in person. She motioned towards the edge of the bed, and Graelyn gave a slight nod. Sitting down, her hips bumping Graelyn’s feet, she spread the photo album on her lap. The pages had already begun aging before it had been sealed, and it looked like the kind of old document you might see in drama, with yellow cracking pages that somehow held together perfectly. Thanks to the sealant, it also looked strangely inauthentic. The photographs were of a man in an army air core outfit, and a woman in a decidedly 1940’s haircut, and… Graelyn. The other two were smiling, Graelyn had the expression of a person who doesn’t want to be in a picture but is doing so for the sake and happiness of other people, possibly in this case herself. She felt like saying, “That’s me!” but held back as it was neither necessary or frugal, and would probably just make her look like an idiot. “That’s you!” Mrs. Barker said. “Yes it is. Well, that’s revealing.” Mrs. Baker got up and closed the door. She held the handle behind her back for a moment as though someone might try to barge their way in. “You have no idea how long our family has been waiting to meet you. Honestly, until I got my daughter’s message I thought you were just an insane person who saved my great great... well, a lot of greats grandfather’s life, I didn’t actually believe what you told them.” “What exactly did I tell them, because I haven’t told them anything yet?” Alondra’s eyes were wide, she was totally erect in bed, watching and listening as closely as she could manage.” “That you were from an alternate reality and the future.” “I was that upfront about that? Huh.” “Would you mind if I saw the pin?” Mrs. Barker asked. Graelyn nodded and slipped it into her palm. She ran her thumb along it, smiling faintly. “Its all true then.” “I suppose?” Mrs. Barker looked over at Alondra, placing her hand reassuringly on Graelyn's calf. “Alondra, you have to keep all of this secret. No one can know what we talked about in here today.” “Mrs. Barker...” “Sandy.” She cut in. “Sandy, uh, you don't really believe she is from an alternate reality in the future do you? I mean...” Sandy cut her off. “Alondra, when my many-greats-grandfather was fighting in the second World War II, this young woman stopped his plane from falling out of the air. She wore a cat pin, just like the one he had made for his fiance, only it was old.” “Wait I stopped a plane from crashing?!?! How!?!?” “He actually wrote you a guide, he said you'd need to study it.” She apparently would. “This is crazy.” Alondra said. “Honestly, its getting pretty normal for me.” Graelyn murmured. “Graelyn, sweetie, you're going to do great, and you can stay with us as long as you need.” “Stay with you? I mean, how will fit into society, I haven't been born yet.” “So weird....” Alondra whispered. “Actually,” the man at the door, who had quietly opened it, said, “Mr. Heirum J. Whitehead's estate has taken care of all of that.” * * * * * Graelyn was for some reason attending class at a High School. This wasn’t particularly how she’d seen jumping through a portal through time going. How old was she now even? She’d lost track. Was she even still a teenager? She tried to count the days but she had by all accounts lost track. There had been too many leaps and jumps and crossed time streams. She remembered the look on her own face—or was it her own face? Did another reality’s version of herself count as her? As Songbird Kicked her out the window. She had no idea who she was anymore. That Graelyn had broken the promise though—maybe she’d lost the right to the name. Is that all I am now—a promise of a little girl throwing herself out a window? She sat down at her desk and looked over at June and her girlfriend who were clearly flirting. In a few years June would be in the academy for space travel, in a few more she’d be with Graelyn on Triton starting the loop that got Graelyn here in the first place. It hardly seemed to make sense, it hardly seemed to fit together at all. But here she was, studying things in the past. “Good morning class” the teacher said, “now today we’re going to learning about—Ryan, sit down. Trinity you to! – okay, uh, we’re going to be learning about igneous rocks…” Graelyn already knew all about Igneous rocks. She could probably teach a class on Igneous rocks. But this, she supposed, was the downside of time traveling. You could get stuck in history taking a class that was hyper advanced for your own age group at the time but that you easily passed years ago.. .Still, it wasn’t a bad review. Graelyn didn’t usually study geology, so the lessons on Igneous rocks were really a handy refresher, and she didn’t feel like she was wasting that much of her time. English courses puzzled her a bit, she was enjoying them but the classes were really slow at reading, and since she had focused on the sciences she was actually learning an incredible amount in them. Math courses were however basically a rote action for her—she was in the school’s most advanced courses, and she was far beyond them in ways they couldn’t imagine. She had gotten her internship by being able to calculate the probable locations of other dimensions through a hypothetical time space rift at 16, or at least that was what she figured in hindsight now that she knew John Aril's real intentions. Advanced Calculus was essentially spelling “C-A-T” to her at this point in her life. Luckily the teacher had given them the whole syllabus so she’d been able to complete every single assignment for the year in the first week. She now spent her math classes being a student assistant and running errands, or doing her own math work. “So what is ‘456R-25K’?” “Well, if you're mapping dimensions, most of them are hypothetically going to be nearly identical. Many of them have differences so slight it’s impossible to tell where exactly they diverge. For example, there is a whole other reality for every different speed it takes to press a single key down on a keyboard, for every slight position it would hit, and that’s just for every reality you hit that same key.” Graelyn explained to the math teacher. “I’ve given each identical reality a designation, usually a number and letter to distinguish them. However, what’s notable is when there is a convergence- a link between two dimensions for whatever reason. Those are labeled with a two letter-number combinations. If you start to track dimensions, you can figure out where these holes are supposed to be, because they’re sort of… fixed points. Dimensions can continually branch off and make new ones to infinity, but there is something special about two that are linked, they begin to take on a certain… stability. Not in the sense that they are more socially stable or anything, the universe isn’t concerned with that, er, universes, but rather that they are more real than other universes, to put it in layman’s terms. They’re… anchored. As soon as a person moves from one universe to the other, it creates a bond between them.” She paused, “Hypothetically of course.” The teacher looked at her wide eyed. “Where did you say you transferred from?” “I was homeschooled.” She lied, “By the lead programmers of Talinata Softworks.” He nodded slowly, “The AI developers.” “Yes, though they’ve clearly moved beyond that.” “Clearly.” The truth was that Graelyn didn’t solve all of her troubles with an epiphany, and that even though she hit the ground she felt like she hadn’t stopped falling ever since. The epiphany, that moment of pure clarity that changed Graelyn Scythes from one person into another, didn’t do so by force. In reality, it simply opened up a question inside her: who is this woman I don’t want to fall? She didn’t know. She had no idea, and as time went on she settled on two versions of herself, standing on opposite sides of a scale. One was an altruist, but a pragmatic one. Every breath she took served a greater good, but she would be taken in by no one. She would be volcano, erupting to protect the weak, and stoking a fire in her heart. The other was a fortress. She would cut out the things that could cause her pain, build up walls, and freeze her blood to ice. She would be impervious, and impartial. The ultimate scientist, only using her facts and not her heart. But even these simple ideals proved elusive—try as she might she never ended up one or the other, and a third woman came to being—a woman who was a bulldozer. She could run over her enemies, she could harness the power of the volcano and the pragmatism of the scientist and crush anyone who could cut through her walls. She had no idea who she wanted to be, only that she didn’t want to fall. Graelyn had had a boyfriend, and a girlfriend. She hadn’t loved either of them, she’d simply wondered if she could get one. She succeeded, and when they left her or she left them she made sure to note their emotional reactions. She felt nothing, at least, she tried to convince herself she felt nothing, and she took copious notes. She felt the fortress inside her, and fire and ice at war in her heart. But not everything went according to plan. Of course it did at first—Graelyn got the job at project Atlantis, despite her parent’s protests, and felt a jolt of pleasure at their anger at her when they couldn’t control her. But then Arch came floating down, and she felt like she couldn’t have done anything different, as though from that moment as he fell there wasn’t a choice anymore. She wasn’t sure what was inside her now, it wasn’t fire, ice, or steel, she couldn’t name it, like a figure in a dark room of a stranger. June yelled, cheering on Alondra as she dribbled her way down the court. The crowd was fairly small, not many people showed up for a high school basketball game on the same Saturday as a big 7-Shuck match at the stadium, which was also being broadcast around the world. But June, now back from space camp, loved her girlfriend, and Graelyn was well practiced at keeping up appearances. The crowd yelled and jeered something, and Graelyn's text scrolled down automatically as it's camera sensed her eyes had finished reading the words at the bottom of the tablet's screen. Learning how to forge a letter was hard, but it would apparently be necessary. She was lucky people in the 1940's didn't know how to spot modern advances in replicating Franklin Dellano Roosevelt's signature. “I can't believe this Ref! Can you?” Graelyn shrugged. “I'm sure it was extremely unfair. They'll be doing an expose of it on the news tonight.” “Be serious.” June said. “I am wild.” Graelyn said drolly as she opened another book. “What is that supposed to mean?” “Its from a book, forget about it.” Alondra had made her way to the net, and with a rousing leap, dunked the ball into the hoop. Graelyn politely clapped as the small crowd erupted. “Now that was amazing!” June yelled. “It was pretty good, yeah.” “If you're so moderate about being here, why did you come.” Graelyn looked up at June. “An honest answer there would be something akin to a speech.” A whistle blew, and the fans cheered for their respective teams as they went to the locker rooms. “Well, its halftime, so I have time to listen.” The dance team came out, and Graelyn was actually interested in watching them intently and listening to what song they picked, so she tried to get her speech done quickly. “I'm here because you're people who aren't mean to me, and haven't left me yet. I don't even know if I like either of you, to be honest, but in my experience it matters more if a person treats you well than if you have anything in common. I'd take a friend who I can't have a conversation with but is there for me over one who is only there when the weather is fair and the sky is clear. I'd take a friend who I can't relate to but respects my existence over one who can joke with me but treats me as less than I'm worth any day.” And I'm not worth much, she left off. “What the hell kind of world is waiting for us in the future?” The dance team got in their positions. “One where they make girl's named Graelyn who like watching well done entwinements of music and dance, shh.” They watched the performance in silence. It was okay. * * * * Alondra and June were cuddling on the couch while Graelyn sat on the floor. They were eating pizza rolls, a dish that Graelyn had admittedly never tried before. They were okay. On the screen in front of them was the extended cut of “The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring” an ancient movie to be sure, but Graelyn was enjoying it. Alondra and June made some frantic flailing motions as one of June's other mom Emily walked in front of the screen. “She hasn't seen this yet mom!” June pleaded. “Did someone call for mom?” Sandy said from the other room. “The other one!” June yelled. Fred, one of June's dads, who had come in to bring them drinks, laughed. “Oh come on Fred, like they haven't done that with you and Devon.” He handed Graelyn a bubbly glass of ginger ale, and smiled at her. “Yeah, but we make bad joke about it.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Seriously, mom, dad, we're watching a movie.” “Did someone call for dad?” Devon yelled from the other room.” “Hi dad, I'm dad.” Fred yelled. The dad's laughed. “Jesus.” Alondra said, rewinding the movie. The Fellowship of the Ring fro the movie's title was approaching a bridge in an underground city that had been overrun by creatures called Orcs, and a wizard called Gandalf was facing off with a big winged demon called a Balrog. “You shall not pass!” The wizard said, and split the bridge with his staff. They both fell into the void. Graelyn dropped her pizza roll. Of course. Before Graelyn's eyes stood a map of the universes. They were anchored to each other through gashes, and the same gashes could slip you into different places in that univere's time, as well as a phyiscal location in it. There was a chasm between each of those spots, and they had latched onto the other side. The fellowship had crossed the chasm, and then broken the road. Here Graelyn was, trapped on one side of a divide in time, while Arch was somewhere else. And the more she thought about it, the more she knew it had to be in World War II. So she had to get to World War II. But she had no way to guide the journey. The bag Kinan had given her when she'd left had some of Kinan's dust, but there was no way she could use the Labyrinth to get around, even if there was a Labyrinth in this world it would be cut off to her since she had no one to take her through the locked gates. But she didn't have to just drop into the void. She had something she knew had to be on the otherside: Her ring of power. The cat pin. She had no idea if it would work: maybe she would just drown in the sea of murky nothing between the universes. Maybe she would go mad. But she would not condemn Arch to death by inaction. This was her best and only shot. She knew exactly what she had to do. The next morning, at breakfast, Graelyn had laid out a tablet for June with a document pre-loaded on it. June came downstairs, and didn't notice the tablet for fifteen minutes as she made herself toast, and then sat down, looking at it. “Whats this?” “That, is everything you need to know about how we meet in the future. I had to exclude a few things you didn't know, because well, you didn't know them, but it should be mostly complete.” June picked it up and began to read it, then bit her lip and set it down, looking Graelyn straight in the eyes. “You're leaving today, aren't you?” “Well, I'm going to try.” Graelyn had said goodbye so many times now. It seemed like every time she hopped through a portal she met someone she would never forget, who would be a universe away. Alice, Lizette, Manuel. Kinan, John, Miranda. Now, June, Alondra, and June's four parents. They hugged each other, and Graelyn listened to their platitudes. Their time together had meant something, surely, but Graelyn wanted to get it over with. She hated saying goodbye, but Arch needed her, and she couldn't stay comfortable for too long. If she was being honest, it didn't suit her. She took a cab to Saint Andrew's Hospital, and on the way dialed the number for Talinata Softworks. “Hello! Talinata Softworks. I'm our answering AI, WeN-D! How can I help you?” “Hi, WeN-D, my name is Graelyn Scythes. I need to talk to whoever paid my hospital bill.” WeN-D was silent for a moment, “I'll connect you right away.” She did. “Hello?” A gruff voice replied. “Hi, I'm Graelyn Scythes, and I need to get back into the supplies room I woke up in in Saint Andrew's Hospital.” “There is nothing there, we swept it clean.” “Nothing you can see.” More silence. The sound of something being moved across the floor. “We'll meet you there right away.” When she arrived at the hospital, an androgynous person met her at the door, wearing a suit sunglasses, and an earpiece. “Miss Scythes?” “Talinata Softworks representative?” “Yes. Follow me.” Without another word she was lead through the building, and up to the supplies room, which was empty. She looked at the person, “I need to change, and do what I came here to do. Close the door.” They nodded. “Mister Whitehead sends his regards.” “If I ever meet him, and he's not dead like he apparently is right now, I'll be sure to return them.” The person nodded, blankfaced, and shut the door. Graelyn quickly disrobed, and put on her spacesuit. She stuffed the rest of her belongings back into the bag, reserving some of the crystal dust, and the cat pin. Carefully, she put on the spacehelmet, and reached her hand out in front of her. She couldn't see anything, but she could feel it, like she had a new sense now that had opened up in her mind. There was a tear here in what was natural, sealed up to the human eye, but not healed. She could tear it open again, like a seam ripper. She pulled out the cat pin, and holding it up to where she felt the sensation in the air, used her other hand to throw the crystal dust at the same spot. At first, she thought it had been an idiotic idea, a foolish notion on her part, but then she was proven wrong. The air began to swirl around her hand. She reached down and grabbed her bag quickly, and the portal formed around the cat pin. She tried to focus on World War II, on the plane. She hoped she'd grabbed everything she would need from the store for it. She hoped the portal would work. She hoped it wouldn't tear her apart. It swirled, and her thoughts were cut off as she was sucked inside, spiraling down through the centuries, leaving only memories behind. * * * * Graelie Scythes woke up to find she had gotten mail. She never got mail, and with her first court ordered meeting with the therapist tomorrow, it was an odd time to start. Her mom read it first, confused, and threw it in the trash, but later that night she snuck out of her room and fished it out. “Dear Graelie, You don't know me, but maybe someday you will. I know that written mail is an oddity aside from packages, so I apologize if this freaks you out. I heard you are going through a hard time right now, and I wanted you to have this. If all had gone correctly, my descendants have sent you this cat pit as a token of our affection for you from afar. I can't tell you what your future holds, but I do know that when we meet, we will be friends. Until then, hold onto this pin as a reminder that someone remembers you, even from afar. Sincerely, June Barker” Graelyn slid the pin out of the envelope, and looked at it. It was old, but well taken care of. She slid the pin onto her pajama top as an experiment, and looked at herself in the mirror. The letter was clearly a prank, they'd probably write later asking for money or something, but for now having the pin on her breast felt comforting. As he looked at the image of a cat, she began to think about them, how nice it would be to have a companion like this imaginary letter writer. Maybe, she thought. She'd ask for a cat. Yes, that would do. That would do nicely. Come back next week to see where Graelyn ends up... As her journey nears its end! Annie Zhu and I did an interview with Barebones Entertainment about our work creating the illustrated sci-fi tale 10,000 Dawns together! You can learn for the first time how we got together on this project, where the ideas came from, and how on Earth we find time for it all! Its a fantastic read so go check it out :)!
You can read the interview here: http://www.barebonesent.com/q-and-a-with-jim-wylder/ We're bringing back our beloved 10,000 Dawns Bonus Story Contest! Is there something in the universe of 10,000 Dawns you want to learn more about? A character we haven't explored you want to see more of? Now is your chance to make that a reality! Find out more at the link below. http://www.jameswylder.com/home/the-great-10000-dawns-bonus-story-contest-round-2 Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder All chapters are now available as a podcast from the Southgate Media Group! You can subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can download the latest chapter below in PDF or epub formats:
Chapter 23: Jump.WeN-D came down in front of them, boarding ramp extended. It didn’t take long to get all three of them aboard the VanWinkle, even with Graelyn’s ankle, and Heinrich was pleased to see the two communist dogs were on board as well (“I took the liberty of luring them through the airlocks with a ration pack, I hope you don’t mind.” “Not at all WeN-D!”) the ship took off, and in the distance the orb rose off the surface of the moon, a huge lump on its side wrapped in its tendrils.
Graelyn looked out at Arch, as he floated up into the sky, and towards a new blue glow in the sky. “It opened another tear.” June cursed as she slid into a seat in the cabin. “This isn’t good, its going to get away, with a whole bunch of data on us,” she then uttered a long string of curse words. “We’ve got to follow it.” “We can’t go through the tear! We’ve got no idea how its traveled through, and its only a little bigger than a person, this is a pretty large ship.” That was true. There wasn’t really any way she could logically argue against that. “We should still try to get all the data we can, do a fly by as close as you can to when it goes through the portal.” “Portal?” “Whatever, we’re inventing this jargon essentially.” “WeN-D can we chart a path to fly by its exit safely?” “Absolutely!” She said chipperly. Heinrich and June stripped off their gloves and helmets, but Graelyn kept hers on. They didn’t comment on it, she stared out the view pane absently, deep in thought, her spacesuit looking like a huge anachronism in the spaceship that had been an antique when it was sewn together by machine. The ship got closer to the light, and Graelyn slipped out of the cabin. As it pulled by, she opened up the airlock. “Graelyn what are you doing?” “Seal the airlock don’t let her do what she’s thinking of!” Graelyn pressed the emergency released button, flipped open the panel that emerged, and pulled the lever. “Graelyn do not do this!” Graelyn had only been able to count on herself, but arch has done what he had knowing full well he could die. Graelyn was about to inhale when the airlock door blew open, and she shot out with far more force than she’d been prepared for. The force of the air impacted her belly and she threw up into her helmet as she spun wildly, her arms flailing helplessly in the blackness of space. Then she was in a mess of blue and white, and then there was nothing. She woke up. Her face was in a smelly mess of her own puke, but she hadn’t suffocated. She couldn’t have—the suit could put oxygen straight into her bloodstream even if she was choking, that’s right. Instinctively she reached for the release catch on the neck of the suit—but realized that might not be a good idea. Shifting so that she could see her surroundings without getting vomit over even more of her, she saw she was in a grassy field. Wind blew gently through the blades, and she could see the field rolled down into a small grove of trees. She undid the helmet, and pulled it off, letting the sick slop out. She breathed in deeply, and rubbed her face into the grass- real grass not anything artificial. Black earth rubbed up against her nose. She spread her arms out and tried to sink into the soil, but without much luck. “Excuse me, are you a spacewoman?” Graelyn’s eyes shot up, and she pushed her aching body up from the soil. In front of her was a girl with short red hair, wearing glasses slightly too big for her head she’d slowly grow into. The knees on her dress were dirty, and she could probably do with blowing her nose, but the really apparent thing about her was the bloody scalpel in her left hand. Grae stared at it, the slightly dry blood dull against the sunlight. “Miss?” Grae looked back at the girl. “What’s your name?” “Graelie.” She said pleasantly, as though she wasn’t holding a bloody scalpel. “That’s funny.” Said Graelyn. She wasn’t stupid, the hair color threw her off, but she knew. She looked back up at herself. “And have you been dissecting roadkill again today?” “How did you know that?” “Like you guessed, I’m from space. You have to be smart to be in space.” The girl nodded. Graelyn remembered this conversation. She remembered the woman in the spacesuit, she’d thought she’d made it up at this point in her life, one of those playtimes as a child that just feels real though its make believe. But here she was. Strangely, or maybe with the utmost obligation, she knew what she had to say next. “Would you mind if I came and looked?” Graelie looked at her, and bit her lip, then seemed to make a decision and nod, She reached down to Graelyn, and pulled to “help” Graelyn up, though it was really more for show, as Graelyn still actually had to do all the work, and her body still felt like it had been hit by a missile of pressure. In her head she struggled to work out why she had been hit by the pressure like that—it must have been something to do with the tear changing the space around it, she knew the holes led to different times and places, sometimes different dimensions. Maybe laws from one reality seeped over into this one? Or the two sets of laws clashed? It was all hypothetical. Whatever happened, she was woozy, and her mouth still tasted like vomit. Graelie led her to a dead deer, its eyes were already getting eaten away and it smelled, but that hadn’t stopped the girl from already having made a few incisions. The flesh had been carefully cut away, and the ribcage opened. A few organs had been nearly removed and placed on individual piles of leaves. Graelyn was impressed with herself, but was also struck for the first time with how unnatural this would seem to anyone else. She had been such a lonely child. Unable to keep friends for very long, and spending most of her time by herself. That she spent her time slicing up animals in the woods could only have stuck people as creepy—as a sign she was a danger to the other kids. She didn’t like to think of herself that way, she didn’t like to imagine that there was something wrong with her, but as tiny Graelie began to remove the deer’s lungs, she knew that maybe the whispers she heard about herself were right. There was something wrong with her. Her parents should have sent her away somewhere else. Somewhere far away where she’d do no harm to anyone. What if she was capable of what they thought she was? What if she was broken? Graelie turned to her, and she didn’t realize she had shed a tear. “Are you…” “Listen to me Graelie, no matter what anyone says to you, you’re the one in control of your life. People are going to tell you things. They’re going to say that you’re…” She looked away from herself, from the scalpel still dripping deer blood. “That you’re a monster. But they don’t understand you. They don’t know that you’re just…. Different. You’ll want to be what they say you are. You’ll want to… Cross any line to get what you want. But I believe in you. And I…. Look I don’t say this, I never say this, but I love you. You’re the only person I do love. Maybe the only one I can. I don’t want to believe that, but it might be true. Don’t give up on yourself. You’re the only one who can manage that. You…” She trailed off. In the distance, she saw a whiteish metal orb perched perfectly on a hill. “I have to go. Don’t forget what I said.” She stumbled up. I fell. And as I fell I thought to myself, “Who am I going to be when I hit the ground?” Will I be a corpse? A victim? A cripple? Will I get up and rage against everything that threw me off of this? Then I realized, whoever I chose to be, I will be myself. I will still be Graelyn. Whoever she is. And I chose to be someone I wouldn’t want to fall again. She ran towards the orb. Her legs ached, her belly burned, her lungs felt like they were being cut out of her body. She heard a voice yell “Arch! Arch!” as she ran and she barely realized it was coming out of her own mouth. The orb shook, and she sprinted harder at it. A blue swirl began to form around it, and she cursed and screamed as it disappeared into it as her legs gave out beneath her, the ripples of the tear bludgeoning her exposed face. “Arch…” She muttered. She crawled, grabbing the grass and the dirt, ripping up the gentle earth she’d savored, and pulled herself into the tear. And I chose to be someone I wouldn’t want to fall again. Will Graelyn save Arch? Where are they off to next? Come back next week to find out! First off, did you see the exciting news yesterday? We're bringing back our beloved 10,000 Dawns Bonus Story Contest! Is there something in the universe of 10,000 Dawns you want to learn more about? A character we haven't explored you want to see more of? Now is your chance to make that a reality! Find out more at the link below. http://www.jameswylder.com/home/the-great-10000-dawns-bonus-story-contest-round-2 Art by Annie Zhu, Story by James Wylder All chapters are now available as a podcast from the Southgate Media Group! You can subscribe to the podcast version on iTunes and your RSS feed easily from libsyn: http://10thousanddawns.libsyn.com/ If you're new to 10kd, you can read the story from the start for free below: http://www.jameswylder.com/read-every-chapter.html You can download the latest chapter below in PDF or epub formats:
Chapter 22: The Pavements the Limit“Graelyn Scythes, what do you call this?” She couldn’t look her mother in the eye. “I didn’t have my eggs frozen so I could have a child who got a B-. Your siblings all did so much better than you when they were your age. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“It was boring” she wanted to say. She wanted to say that she had no interest in the book, and that she really couldn’t have cared less if Ivana had managed to win the great Horse Race that the Czar was throwing. The book didn’t tell her anything about the horse—it was supposedly so important, but they didn’t tell her anything she was wondering about it. What did it eat? What was it genetically predisposed to? Presumably it had been bred for racing, or at the very least was displaying desirable traits for horse races beyond her jockey’s spunky resolve to win the race. But none of it was in the book. Graelyn’s mind had drifted off reading it, and she’d found herself reading about horse biology rather than reading the book itself. Still, she finished it. It was just so hard to keep it in her brain. But that wasn’t what she said. “I’ll try better mom.” “You’d better, I don’t tolerate worthless people in this house. You’re either someone, or you’re nothing in this world and I’m not going to support you if you’re going to be a parasite on my back.” She curled up alone in her room that night like she always did, setting her glasses on the table beside her bed. She wished at that moment that she could be in another family, like the kind she heard about at school from her friends. She didn’t even have a stuffed animal anymore, she’d had a Giraffe she’d named Attenborough, but her Mom had said she was too old for it now. She was too old for everything maybe. Sitting up, she slid her skinny legs off the bed, and walked over to the window, which she popped open with a snap. It was a cold night in Moscow, and the air chilled her almost instantly, Goosebumps springing up on her arms and legs like hives. She didn’t flinch, and slid her legs out the window. She was eight years old, and she was already sick of this, sick of people, sick of her parents. Her head was throbbing with expectations, and she wondered if it would be worth it if she kept going. She’d seen someone jump out of a tall building before, her father had tried to shield her eyes as the man cracked on the pavement, but she saw through his fingers. The way he burst open was fascinating, she’d seen drawings of the insides of people, but never really seen the insides. It hadn’t really occurred to her that that much of a person’s mass was vital fluids before, and she felt silly for not comprehending that fact before that moment. Graelyn was high enough she would burst as well—the window in her room wasn’t even supposed to open the way she was doing it, one of the benefits of studying too much was she could already recode the simple drivers in the window machinery. Not child safe anymore. The wind was picking up, and she felt herself batted about by it, ready to pick her up and carry her away from here. She tried to remember the last time she’d been hugged, or been told she did a good job by her parents, and she couldn’t. “Not everyone gets a trophy,” she remembered her mother say, “that breeds weakness.” She imagined a trophy below her, and her body getting speared on it as she fell. “Got a trophy after all!” she’d tell her mother, though that would be impossible because the time it would take her mother to get down to the ground from where they lived in the skyscraper would be long enough she’d certainly be dead in that scenario. Graelyn felt the wind waft her, and felt her lip quiver. She felt like she was about to cry. Ironically, that was what did it, the fear of looking weak by crying was what made her finally let go and slide out of her window. She fell. She fell. She Fell. And it suddenly struck her that this was the worst decision she had ever made. She realized that all of her problems, everything with her family, were temporary. Sure, they’d have custody of her for years and years, but that would end, and then they wouldn’t have control of her anymore, she could cut them out of her life like a tumor. No one could tell her what to do, she would be alone, just the way she needed to be. No one to let her down, no one to fail her or demean her. She would be a lone standout against the mess of the world. She’d fix it. Or, she would, if she hadn’t jumped out of her window. She was going to die, and nothing she could do could change that, she was totally helpless. Falling. And then, she wasn’t. She felt an impact, but a light one, and she bounced up a bit, before falling back down into the net. It was hard to get her balance, but she sat up, trying to take in her blurry surroundings, as a light shone on her face. “It’s a girl Pavel, and a young one at that.” “I could have sworn the woman on floor 59 was going to call it quits any day now. Damn.” “You made the bet.” A security platform hovered over, and she reached out to them as they came by. A woman in black security armor lifted her up under the armpits, and set her down in the vehicle. “Jesus, what makes a girl like you jump out the window?” “She probably fell somehow, tried to get a better view or something.” “No, I jumped.” She confirmed. “Darn stupid thing to do, what do you think you’re doing? Your daddy beat you or something?” She shook her head no. “When did the nets get added?” “Not too long ago, some guy jumped and bust on the pavement a few months ago and we got them installed for insurance reasons.” Of course her inspiration was her undoing. “So come on kid, why’d you jump?” Graelyn shrugged, “I thought there was no one I could count on, no one worthwhile in the whole world.” “And now?” Graelyn smiled, “there is definitely someone worthwhile I can count on.” Well that happened. Gosh. Tune in next week, as we get out of Graelyn's memories, and back to the danger on Triton... Update: Voting has now begun! You can check out the artist in competition to win, and vote for them and you favorite story idea HERE: http://www.jameswylder.com/home/10kd-bonus-story-contest-vote-and-meet-the-artists Months ago, we launched our first ever Bonus story contest: and you, our beloved readers submitted ideas for bonus stories to the 10,000 Dawns Universe, and then voted on which you wanted! The result of this is one of the most beloved stories in the 10kd canon: "The Adventures of Mister Sprinkles the Cat". The runner up story, "Knights and Dragons" even got to come into existence, and Mister Sprinkles got a sequel in "The Day the Cats Spoke"! So with the serial story that launched 10kd finishing, and 10,000 Dawns: Anthology (the exciting next phase of storytelling featuring tons of new writers!) well on the way, I thought now would be a great time to give you, the reader, what you wanted to see before the whole paradigm changed again. So for this week, we're taking submissions, and then next week we'll be voting on them! What kind of story would you like to see that you HAVEN'T seen? What characters would you like to see more of? Leave the suggestions in the comments-- We'll be reading! But that's not all-- we'll also be letting you pick who does the art for the story! We're lining up a whole slew of our favorite artists who have worked on the 10kd Artist's Showcase, and on the Bonus Story art, and letting you pick which one will get to do the art for the story you choose! We're really excited to bring you the end of Graelyn and Arch's adventure in the coming weeks, and we're equally excited to show you all the stories we've been making behind the scenes for 10kd: Anthology! Its gunna be great! But for now.... Tell us what you want to see. There are 10,000 Dawns out there-- let your imagination run wild ^_^! -Jim and the 10kd Crew PS: If you don't know about 10kd you can find an overview HERE, and our chapter archive HERE! I'm going to be honest: this wasn't planned. In fact, this was made for a scrapped idea to do a 10,000 Dawns listening party for David Bowie's new album. When I couldn't co-ordinate it, I scrapped it. "I can do it for David Bowie's next album. No rush." I thought. Turns out, I was wrong. David Bowie passed away at 69, as we learned today... After showing this piece to a few friends today, I decided to put it up as my tribute to the life of this great man. I 'm leaving it as it is, even the unintentional anachronisms. David Bowie meant a lot to us here at 10kd, if you couldn't tell from Graelyn holding a private dance party to his song "Miracle Goodnight" or teaching "God Bless the Girl" to Lizette. We hope this means something to you today. "Oh I'll be free, just like that bluebird, oh I'll be free, ain't that just like me?" -Bowie -Love, Jim and the 10kd Crew. You can hear the song this story references here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kszLwBaC4Sw And a Star Spun DarkWorld Revolutionary Council Prison, Songbird’s World.
Tuesday. Out of a carboard sleeve, and a thin paper one inside that, Graelyn pulled out a black disk. “What is that?” Arch asked. “It’s a Vinyl record.” Graelyn replied, “Specifically David Bowie’s album Blackstar.” “Do you like it?” “Well, his next one was better.” The prison didn’t let the prisoners have digital music devices, as more than one person had managed to use the components to cause havoc or attempt a breakout, notably one hacker who’d set all the intercoms to play the famous ballad “Never Gunna Give You Up” for ten hours. Instead, they had a library of Vinyl records, complete with a turntable that was as analog as they could make it. Graelyn flipped the disk around in her fingers, and set it on the spindle. “Did you ever listen to Bowie, Arch?” He shook his head. “Not till I met you.” She picked up the needle, and put it down on the groove. “Do you think they named dancing along to music ‘groove’ first, or the notch in a record?” “What’s a record groove?” “It’s the thingy that the needle moves across to create the sound on the record.” She held the record up to him. “Take a scan of it, I’m sure your brain can figure it out.” His eye flitted over it, measuring the depth of each groove. His processors went into motion, and his speaker started playing the first notes of the song. “Shh! I’m about to play it.” “Sorry.” The record started. “Wait, what is a Blackstar?” Arch cut in, after the first track ran for 10 minutes. Graelyn stopped the record. “Well, what do you think it is?” “I mean, that’s like a classroom teacher question.” “I’m great with kids.” “That is literally the opposite of what you have told me literally every other time I have brought that up.” She rolled her eyes, and leaned on the wall next to the record player. “Fine, I’m a bad teacher. But my annoying question still stands.” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows. “Well, Bowie certainly lists off a lot of things he is not, while still being a Blackstar.” “See, context clues!” “Please, no.” “Fine.” She picked up the album cover, looking into the star on its front. “David Bowie was a huge star, I mean, they even founded a religion about him on the Rim and on Mars, if you can believe that. “ Arch tapped his head. “I can believe a lot. People are weird. Especially you skin-showing folk.” “That’s still most people Arch.” He shrugged. “Anyways, he did it by being different. He broke the norms, he was bisexual when being that meant it lowered his opportunities.” “Didn’t they pass laws against that in this alternate reality?” “Well yeah, but they also had a communist revolution here, so…” “Ah, well, continue then.” Graelyn held up the star to Arch. “He wasn’t like other stars. He shone in a way he wasn’t supposed to, but he still shone, and he gave people hope who were hidden. A star that shone into the murkiest depths, of hidden identities, of ways of just being alive deemed horrors by the bigoted. And he did it through rock and roll. That’s pretty nifty.” “You just used the word nifty to describe a guy you said they have a religion based on him on Mars.” “I apologize for nothing.” The cell, despite the best intentions of a benevolent alternate reality revolutionary communist government, was really cold. Graelyn curled her toes up, and then her knees up to her chest, pulling her blanket around her tight. Still, she shivered. That was when she heard the noise. She bolted up, reaching in the dark for something to threaten the breathing coming from inside her cell that wasn’t her own. All she had was a hard rubber spoon, so she used that, while fishing for her glasses with the other hand. As her eyes actually gained the ability to focus, she made out the figure in the darkness. He wore a black frock coat, and his white sleeves popped out from the edges. The hands attached to them moved rhythmically on the walls, as though searching for a hole in them. His hair was sticking up with gel. He looked old. His eyes were covered with a rag, buttons sewn over the eyes. “How did you get in here?” She said loudly. “Baby girl, you’re dreaming.” He said, stroking the wall. “Who are you?” She got up, the blanket wrapped around her like a cloak. “The name is the greatest pop star in the history of the universe.” Graelyn lowered her spoon. “Wait, David Bowie? You’re like… Well, you died several centuries ago. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” He turned around, his hands clenching the wall.” “Like I said, its all a dream. Just like the movie makers when they run out of plot threads.” Graelyn examined him closely, “Wait! You’re Blackstar era Bowie! With the button eyes, and the….” She mimicked his weird movements, “you know the thing you do with the stuff. I mean, I liked your next album better, but still.” “You’re very articulate.” “I’m a scientist not a songwriter.” Bowie nodded, and flashed his teeth. “So, what gives me the honor of a dream visit from a rock god turned weird Martian/Rimward pseudo diety?” “Just a reminder for you babe, that you’re not what they make of you, you’re what you are.” “Does that mean something?” “You’re a Blackstar.” She sat back down on the bed, pondering with the spoon pressed to her chin. “They want to execute me here, you know, for being myself. “Their loss.” He threw up his hands as if in hallelujah, “Minding the minds, when they couldn’t mind at all, taking control when you were always who you are.” “I’m a Blackstar.” “You’re a Blackstar.” “But what does that mean? I could die here, just explain it.” Bowie sat down next to her, crossing his legs and looking into her eyes with his buttons. “I died to you know. I was no god, just flesh and blood.” “Yeah, but you were a flesh and blood marvel!” “That’s the joke, moonbeam, you’re just a flesh and blood marvel to.” Graelyn was delivered her clothes for the trial. She’d picked them out before hand from a giant selection Manuel had given her. She had to have a guard there when she got changed, so Shona, from Songbird’s squad, stood in the room with her, awkwardly looking at the room’s upper Northwest corner as she got out of her clothes. Hesitating, Graelyn walked over to the record player, and put the needle back on, blowing a bit of dust off it. “Music?” Shona asked oddly. “It helps me relax. Helps give me a reminder.” “What kind of reminder?” Graelyn smiled. “That I’m a Blackstar. I’m not a gangster.” Shona gave her a weird look, and then looked back up at the corner embarrassed. “Still not sure I get the whole Bowie thing.” “Its like turning on an old friend.” “An old friend? You never met him and he’s been dead for centuries.” “He’s keeping us company long after he turned to dust, what more could you ask of a friend?” "Something happened on the day he died the spirit rose a meter, then stepped aside. Somebody else took his place, and bravely cried: 'I'm a Blackstar! I'm a Blackstar!" -David Bowie, Blackstar |
James Wylder
Poet, Playwright, Game Designer, Writer, Freelancer for hire. Archives
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