Tell No Lies (2)
[Part two of this installment. Links to be added later.]
Your ex-situationship may have been a shallow social climber and attention addict, but at least she knew the right people.
You had relaxed your shadows enough everyone could see again, though the floor was still an oily black that hid any scandalous ankles. That meant it only took you a heartbeat to locate the people you’d been tracking since you arrived.
“Sun Dog, Starling, Moonshadow, I need you now. Astrae, Visator, you too. Everyone else - fuck off or panic quietly.”
You expected quite a bit more resistance to the idea of you ordering around a bunch of heroes. There were a few clenched fists and jaws, sure, but no shout made it past the initial drawn breath before a more level head intervened. The crowd shifted uneasily, and you were beyond grateful that a pair of the bridesmaids blocked off Dazzler when she would’ve stormed over to insist on joining in on any decision making or plotting.
Even more wondrous - the people you’d named stepped forward.
Sun Dog you weren’t surprised by, he’d always been reasonable. The faint rainbow shimmer around him, that private corona that could stretch the length of a football field or more if he really pushed, showed he wasn’t an idle hand either. That pale light was like a soft sunbeam on a chilly day, taking the edge off and shoring up defenses, reducing stress. It had never worked on you, but you had your reasons.
Starling was next, because he probably already knew what you were thinking. That was the problem with a high level telepath, and while you knew ways to obfuscate his interference, you weren’t bothering with them right now. As the leader of the American-based Rangers network, and capable of sending out mental messages much faster (and more difficult to ignore) than a phone call, he’d be critical for coordination.
Astrae and Visator were holding hands. Visator was in one of the bridesmaid costumes, the champagne-colored cloth an odd not-quite-contrast with the paleness of her scales. Astrae, similarly pale-scaled but not in the bridal party, had been free to choose a more solid color. Their toddler was fast asleep on Astrae’s chest, tethered securely in place, it’s little tail curled around to hold in one tiny-taloned hand.
Moonshadow was the last to make it to you, but given she’d been on the other side of the room and had her own orders to give, that was forgivable. Starling might be the leader of the Rangers, but the Rangers were a regional branch that answered to Skywatch - and Skywatch answered to Moonshadow.
Your shadows tugged Prodigy down, and he was unresisting, if supremely unhelpful. You weren’t sure you could let him go; he might fall over.
Naiad had stayed at your side. When Prodigy was in range, she put a hand on his shoulder. Confident she would keep him steady, you unraveled the bindings, and threw a dome over all present.
Moonshadow could’ve snapped her fingers and brought it down, but she didn’t. Hadn’t interfered with any of your theatrics thus far, actually. Think about that later.
Before going any further, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and tossed it on the table. The screen lit up without any buttons being pressed - not your usual lockscreen of the island’s south beach at dawn, but the glowing eye associated with Optix, final member of this impromptu council.
And against your better judgement, you took off your helmet.
“Right.” You said firmly, ignoring the freaky way the cool air felt on your face, or the weight of their stares. Of those present, only Naiad had seen you without a helmet before, and you would’ve preferred to keep it that way, but they needed to know you were playing fair for once in your career. “Prodigy, how much have you shared about your people with the Rangers and Skywatch?”
“I uh, I talked about them some, a little, I think?” Prodigy stuttered. He hadn’t looked away from the shattered ceiling since you took charge, as though afraid there’d be ships dropping in any second.
You actually weren’t sure that wouldn’t happen.
“Optix, you have any reads?”
The same voice that narrated TikTok videos (and had that been a surprise when Menace first tried to show you one) replied from your phone, with the same faux cheer: “There are no anomalies reported currently in our solar system. However, telescopes do not move quickly.”
Moonshadow took advantage of your brief distraction to press Prodigy, “How do you know they’re coming, Prodigy?”
“The beeper thing, the - the part of my ship, like some kind of… important light up sound help?” Had he been human, you might’ve suspected a stroke. You knew it was stress though, that had eliminated a word that was probably ‘emergency beacon’ with some kind of cultural context, and given him a jumble of loosely related words instead.
You glanced at Starling.
“A retrieval beacon.” He said, after a pause. “One that means you’ve failed.”
Galactic Prodigy winced.
“Failed what?” Sun Dog asked mildly, folding his arms. His focus, along with that of the other heroes, was making the electric-blue tendrils on the sides of Prodigy’s head wilt. The boy did not do well under pressure.
But luckily for him, you’d wrung this story out of him before.
“He failed his navigation test.” You filled in. “Prodigy was in training to be a scout pilot. Their final test involved the firing of escape pods with limited travel capabilities to random locations in uncharted space, and those who made their way back were promoted. Those who don’t are presumed dead.”
“But they’re looking for you.” Naiad said quietly. “Why?”
“I don’t Know!” Prodigy wailed. “I’m not anybody important, I didn’t take anything, I’m not even - I’m not even that smart, for my people, I’m not a prodigy to them, I’m just dumb luck and jokes-“
You reached over and dropped your helmet over Prodigy’s head. It didn’t fit him, but it was loose enough to slide over and contain his now poorly-muffled sobs. The movement also let you put yourself between him and the heroes.
“Prodigy and I have discussed this.” You said calmly. “It was a… condition of my patronage, for a time. You did not do the same?”
Starling - who would’ve been his direct superior, as Prodigy was the business of the American branch where he landed - flicked the fingers of one hand as he spoke. “We talked some, but the kid was clearly rattled by the landing, and it took him awhile to learn enough English for me to facilitate conversation at all, much less international security briefings. Once we knew it wasn’t immediate, we were content to let it ride and let him settle.”
Not everyone had been. None of you bother pointing that out.
“With precautions.” Moonshadow allows, which is a good sign for you all getting through this. “We’ve had the space-capable doing patrol flights, though they can’t go much further than our moon’s orbit.”
You nodded. “If they can get in the air and watching, now’s the time. Astrae -“
But you didn’t have time to ask if the vaguely reptilian women would be able to help in this fight, because Optix’s borrowed voice chimed, “Incoming!”
And as your fellows looked up and braced, your phone began to ring. Optix auto-connected you - or perhaps that was Prodigy, not used to using your helmet, fumbling the ‘accept call’ option.
“Synovus!” Tallflawes’ voice purred through the phone. “I knocked, I swear, but it seems you aren’t home. You should remedy that.”
There isn’t a snowball’s chance in flaming hell that the others didn’t notice the irritation on your expression. Or in your voice.
“Bit busy, darling.” You drawled back, moving to disconnect. “Try back later, may be different-“
“Today’s the day, Synovus.”
You froze. Your finger was on the symbol to disconnect - but Tallflawes hung up first. You knew damn well what she meant.
Today was the day that Tallflawes claimed the world would be made over.
The day she’d told you that you would die.
——————————————
“So here’s the thing.” You’d been wearing only a pair of shorts, propped up on the desk of the private suite the two of you were staying in. Tallflawes hadn’t been wearing much more, though she was pretending to be interested in a paperback novel and a glass of Chardonnay. “You haven’t tried to kill me yet, and it’s getting kind of weird.”
“I’m not going to try and kill you, dear.” Tallflawes had said, turning a page idly. You knew her eyes weren’t focused on the words, just as you knew it was important she had said she wouldn’t try to kill you, but this was part of the façade. It had carried you through your wedding and three days of honeymoon.
And yeah, you’d actually had fun.
But at this point the delay was just aggravating.
“Toff.” You’d called gently, and she’d looked up into a dagger of shadow, leveled at the bridge of her nose.
She’d put the book down to one side. “You don’t want the local civilians involved.”
“And yet, they wouldn’t stop me either.” Your voice had been low, still kind. “You’re from the future. You could’ve sought out anyone. You chose me. Even if you don’t plan to kill me-“
The dagger of raw darkness had elongated, more of a spear, and pressed ever so gently into the skin.
“-you need to tell me why.”
Tallflawes had considered you for several long moments. You knew her well enough by then to know that the blankness of her expression was only half a mask; she genuinely had no idea what to say. It meant whatever she told you wouldn’t be the full truth… but it would be part of it.
“I know when you die.” She’d said finally.
“Bit beyond that kind of vague threat, Toff.”
“I know what you die for.” Her expression had shifted, seeing something far off in time and space. It almost looked like… awe. “I value that, Synovus. I consider it a gift that I’ll be around to witness it. And no - I can’t intervene. No, I won’t tell you more either.” She had softened, “But I wanted to know the person who existed - before.”
You’d considered that, drawing back the shadow. “I’m not the self-sacrificing type.”
Tallflawes had smiled, “Oh, I know. But the whole world changes, that day.”
“I don’t aim on ever being that important.” You’d said flatly, moving to find more of your clothes. You hadn’t trusted Tallflawes to be telling the truth, even then. Telling someone they died tomorrow and stabbing them that night was a classic, and you favored the avant-garde.
The soft hum that followed was not reassuring. “Let me tell you this, then. The day it will happen, I’ll tell you. But not before.”
You’d met her eyes through the room’s mirror, and known by her smile that by the time she told you anything, it would be far too late.
——————————
Your senses had returned with a harsh grip on your forearm - Naiad - and a rasping voice offering apologies - Visator.
“We cannot risk our people being held accountable if we act,” the long-time hero, new-still resident of Earth was explaining, arms wrapped around her partner and their child. “Even one survivor would cause trouble.”
“And you will not kill them all.” Astrae said, staring calmly at Moonshadow.
“I will.”
Your own voice startled you, but not as badly as some of your companions. When you looked up, it was at Starling, with a clear message in mind. Once the other man nodded, you turned your attention to Prodigy, who was by this point holding your helmet glumly.
“I told you that I would kill them all, if necessary.” You said quietly. “I do not break my word.”
This was not a promise, or a warning. It was a courtesy, giving the small, young refugee in front of you the chance to change your mind. Before, this scenario was theoretical; now, it is real.
But Galactic Prodigy only nodded, resigned.
—————————————
“- this is really uncool, human, you gotta-“
“Bold of you to assume I’m a human.” You had called back over one shoulder, preoccupied with careful movements to test the hoverboard’s responsiveness.
Galactic Prodigy, stranded on the top of a rock spire with just enough room to sit down, had made a disgusted noise and a hand gesture that was very human.
“Okay, fine, are you? A human?”
“Oh, probably.” Forward and back seemed fairly straightforward, but rising and lowering were still beyond you. Cautiously, you tilted your weight to one side.
Another frustrated noise, breaking into a screech. Hands over his face, Prodigy yelled into his palms, “They didn’t teach me the swear words!”
“Fuck.” You had provided casually, wobbling a little before correcting your balance. “That’s the one people usually use on its own. Very versatile, nearly impossible to use incorrectly.”
This bit of wisdom had been punctuated with you nearly flinging yourself off the side of the hoverboard, and inadvertently demonstrating the word’s use.
“Fuck.” Prodigy had said, trying the word out. Living up to his name, for once, he had adapted to the word with fluency and aplomb. “Fuck! Give me back my fuck board and let me off this fuck rock in fuck!”
You’d laughed. Couldn’t help it. “Very close, conjugate it. ‘Give me back my fucking board and let me off this fucking rock in fucking nowhere’ is what I think you meant. How do you make this thing go up or down?”
“Bend your fucking legs!”
That advice worked. With a cautious crouch, you were able to convince the board to lower itself slowly, until you were on the same level as Prodigy. He was still glaring at you, but he wasn’t as tense.
“Thank you.” Your politeness always startled people, but you meant it. “Do you know who I am?”
Prodigy flicked one hand, “Fucking Synovus.”
“The adjective is optional, but yes. I don’t intend to steal this, by the by. I just want to talk. I know about what happened in Nevada.”
When Prodigy looked lost, you had sighed, and clarified, “I know they were going to fucking put you in fucking forever prison.”
That had cleared the matter up considerably. With the gift of a few more swear words, and a few insights that the heroes who had been Prodigy’s caretakers before either lacked the ability to convey or just lacked outright, you received more tips on how to use the hoverboard, and Prodigy’s story.
“I’m real good at finding people.” He’d admitted, sitting on the edge of the rock spire. “I mean - habitable zones. But they don’t care if people live there. The zones I found would just be more zones for fighting. Here, you can’t even get into space! It’s… nice. Even if it also sucks and your stories are bad.”
That had led to a brief digression about human movies and literature. Prodigy was still working on reading, and apparently no one had shown him any movies featuring aliens for fear of offending him. You promised to get him copies of Star Wars and Star Trek immediately, with the Aliens franchise a potential to be considered.
By the time the sun was rising, you were fairly adept at the hoverboard’s usage, and Prodigy could swear like a sailor.
“If they come here,” you’d said finally, after successfully managing an upside-down loop, “I won’t let them take you, Prodigy. Not if you don’t want to go. And I won’t let them take Earth regardless - whatever that takes.”
Those words from a villain meant something much more than they might’ve from a hero. You weren’t offering a sacrifice; at least, not of yourself.
But faced with an offer of wholesale slaughter, Galactic Prodigy looked…. Relieved.
And more fool you, you had added, “I give you my word.”
——————————
The heroes, of course, wanted a peaceful solution.
Your council had broken up rather quickly after your declaration that if they wanted something different, they had better be quick about a plan. Then you’d turned and strode out the back door, reclaiming your phone and beginning the tedious task of bringing the various villains you had hold on to heel.
That had been easier than anticipated, actually. Apparently Tallflawes wanted you at your house because she’d called a meeting. In your name. On your island.
She must truly have been banking on your death.
—————————————
[I’m not risking Tumblr eating any part of this again, so posting now, with links and the Ao3 up later today!]
[Number of parts? Ah fuck if I know.]
