#elsewheres

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page eleven

It's quite the fall. Marshall doesn't allow her an inch of terror. He meets her twelve stories in the air. Their descent makes a perfect arc. Parabola, Kim corrects herself idly. If these are the thoughts one has when dying turns to flying, she could laugh.

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page ten

Most annoying, is that her phone vibrates with each notification.

Kim wipes her face with her sleeve. She's past the point of tears but she is also vain. Twelve years old, she's allowed to be vain. Someone, someone old an purposefully ignorant, would argue that vanity needs an audience. Kim has herself, the window and eighty-eight people cheering her on. She has Marshal a mile away begging her to stop.

"Don't do it," he yells.

"Slow down," shouts Ford, falling behind.

"Fuck," heaves Henry.

Kim throws open the window. It's so bright.

Marshall's friends are dots in the distance

She lifts the pane and puts a foot outside.

"Don't do it."

She straddles the line, hunched over minding the glass.

"Don't"

She does loose one sob. She can't hear him but he hears her so clearly. He hasn't felt this certain, this steady, since his life short circuited for years ago.

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page nine

Like for to be honest

l4tbh, you and 21 others like this

tbh D Kim your kinda stuck up, 23 people like this

*you're, 11 people like this

and I'm not, 4 people like this

yeah your not tbh your kindof a beeyotch, 15 people like this

and a prude, 19 people like this

everyone knows D Kims all about the D, 25 people like this

didnt she give it ^ for that hs dude?? the hockey player?, 16 people like this

the hockey team?, 31 people like this

none of you know what you're talking about, 3 people like this

omg wata slut, 28 people like this

stop it, Penny and Kate like this

I hate when sluts act like their better than everyone else. u cnat even keep our legs close, 47 people like this

please stop, Penny likes this

first time you ever put those words together amirite, 54 people like this

can you spell hippocrate, 49 people like this

why are you doing this?

god just die already, 63 people like this

#dotheworldafavor, 79 people like this

kill yourself, everyone likes this

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page eight

May twelfth in Marshal's fourteenth year is the best day of his life. It marks the moment everything changes. Again. It starts with him emptying his stomach in the most convenient alley. Ford and Henry stand off to the side, debating.

"Should we call his mom?" Ford asks.

"Nah, only if it gets intense."

"Won't it be too late by then?"

"Harvl flurb blurgh," Marshall chokes out instead of don't call my mother.

He rides waves of nausea, ignoring a wave of the static. Then something comes to him. Something stands out in the endless noise. It's a punch to the kidneys. Not a literal blow. He straightens up instead of doubling over. He braces himself against the wall. He doesn't feel the masonry give beneath his palm. Marshal's never concentrated so hard on breathing through his nose. He's never heard something so terrible and distinct.

"Marsh," Ford says.

It's coming from broad street, the sound. Marshal gives his chin a thoughtless wipe and runs North on Benevolence.

Elsewhere, in a dark room, despite the bright day outside, a girl balks at the only light source. She weeps in front of her computer

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page seven

The next morning, in the city's third largest hospital, Marshal is not sitting up in bed. He doesn't have to. The bed is motorized and adjustable though actual comfort escaped the design plan. Doesn't it always, Elle thinks. There are leads, IVs and tubes coming from all parts of him. Charlie's just rushed off a red eye only to have is wife hold him at the door.

"Marshal," he calls.

"Charles," Elle warns.

"Dad?" It's quiet. Charlie's already around her and beside his son. This is the first of many incidents.

Marshal's eleventh birthday, he falls to a grand mal seizure. He bites through the pen Elle substitutes for a tongue depressor. Instead of swallowing his tongue he almost swallows the pieces

Three innings into a game, his eyes retreat into his head. Marshal wakes up seconds later with splinters through his hands.

The doctors recommend specialists. She sees the most special of them all.

On the other side of the glass sits world's most accomplished geneticist, the west's most renowned villain and the man who took her seat on the Assurance. All are one and the same.

"Episodes," Elle says. "That's what the doctors are calling them."

"Must be quite the show," he says.

"Quite."

Magnus laughs.

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page five

Same night, same roof, Marshall looks as deep into the sky as he can. Charlie's in a base in Utah. He's probably got a clear view of the universe. He can probably count the outstretched arms of the Milky Way. He's probably preparing his trip back into space. He hovered the world for four years. He's probably planning how he can get to Jupiter before the end of the year. Meanwhile, Marshall has to contend with light pollution and suburbia and Elle.

"I take it back," Marshall whispers. "I wish I was there with you." Quiet enough that only someone who cares could hear

"What's that kiddo? I can't hear you."

Marshall pushes himself onto his elbows. He lifts the tablet from the shingles and confesses, "I said I-"

It's a truth Charlie never gets to hear.

In Utah, in a technically public research facility, Charlie is spinning for want of an occupant. Papers are on the floor. Pencils snap under foot. None of that matters

"Marshall? Marshall are you alright? Marshall, answer me. Marshall!"

[theredhistorian]

Elsewheres: Blue Hope #1, page six

Marshall is fine. In fact, he is more than fine. When he looks back on this day he will not understand it but he will appreciate it. He is being washed with sound. It is the baptism of the universe. He was eyeing the stars so deeply and wishing upon them so profoundly. This is their response.

"Is it static?" Charlie cries over the connection.

Static indeed. Marshal can't hear his father. He's too busy hearing absolutely everything.

Much too late, Elle is pulled into the mix. She holds her cell with a shoulder. Her hands are better served finishing this email. As she promises to meet a colleague for lunch, "I'm sure he's fine, Charles." As she confirms her attendance at a gene therapy convention, "You insisted on this stargazing ritual." Opening an attachment from her mother, "Fine."

Elle leaves the phone on her desk and opens the closest window.

"Marsh-Ah!"

The sudden influx of information, the over stimulation, it's sent Marshall into a fit. It's sent him off the roof. Hopefully, it sent him into the bushes. Elle runs out to check. 

"Elle?" Charlie yells to the empty room. "Elle! Elle?" he continues.