The Flux (27 page)

G
unfire meant “videogames” to Aliyah
.

That saved her father.

If ’mancy had been a spell she activated, then the bullets would have blown Paul’s brains into wet clumps. But her ’mancy was merely how Aliyah viewed the world, and she’d never witnessed anyone being shot for real.

So when she saw her daddy getting shot, Aliyah instinctively gave him a health bar.

That did
not
, however, stop her father’s blood from splattering across her face – that happened in videogames. Her scream burbled to a premature halt as she recognized the taste in her mouth.

He was bleeding. The bullets had punched holes through his clothing.

Daddy just died
.

Aliyah felt that cold, too-thin separation between what
could
have happened and what
did
happen.

He’s alive no he’s alive

No he died he was dead right now you saved him

And all the fears she’d never allowed herself surged out – going into Daddy’s room at the Institute to see his empty bed, his fake foot’s charging stand forever empty – Aliyah threw up a force field to stop the next fusillade as Daddy tumbled to the ground, unconscious.

You lost Daddy

No he’s here he’s right here

He got shot and died he died but you saved him

And then the flux slammed into her like a plane crash, bad luck pouring into her looking for a worst fear to come true and they were still shooting and any bullet could kill her daddy any of them God Daddy was so
fragile

Get him to the counter. Get him behind the hard wood
.

That was the older Aliyah, the one that told her to talk to someone. Aliyah focused on those words. If she thought about anything else, the flux would surge in and make Daddy dead, so she focused on feeling Daddy’s ankles in her hands, one warm and bony and the other cold titanium, ignoring the bullets chipping away at the forcefield as the gunmen yelled in confusion.

Why had she left Mr Payne’s badge back at home? Because she knew Mr Payne would be angry if she went to go see Daddy, and Mr Payne could track her with that wherever she went, and now she wished she had and

The flux squeezed tighter, demanding all the good things she’d done get evened out.

Don’t think about Daddy

Bullets chipped off the hardwood. Plywood splinters stuck in her skin. She hated being a little girl, but she
wasn’t
the God of War now, she was someone with a dying Daddy who didn’t know what to do.

“
Someone help!
” she yelled.

Tires, screeching. Surprised shouts. A heavy
thud
and a
bang
as a car plowed through the crowd of people outside. Several men yelling in startled anguish as they were efficiently assassinated.

Aliyah huddled up next to her father, pummeled by flux, trying not to think about the men, or Daddy, or anything. As long as she kept her mind blank, nothing would happen.

Someone kicked in the back door, guns at the ready.

Daddy’s work friends. The men who kissed when they thought no one was watching. Except they looked mean, now, the kind of men who even Rainbird feared.

Don’t look at them
, Aliyah thought.
Don’t look at them, think of nothing…

One of them – she wished she could remember his name – punched his boyfriend in the shoulder and jerked his chin towards Aliyah.

“Holy shit,” one – K-Sean? – said. “It’s his
daughter
.”

The other one – Quay-dash? – gave her a great relieved Disney Prince smile. “Oh my God, little one, I’m so glad we got to you in time.”

“We gotta get her out of here.”

She cradled her father’s head. “He’s
hurt
!”

K-Sean nodded, as if to acknowledge how bad this was; Aliyah felt relief. She’d been too tense for tears – but now she saw how scared K-Sean and Quaydash were and that was proof how scary this had all been, and she let loose volcanic tears.

Quaydash hesitated, reaching out to comfort her with one quivering hand while he squeezed his gun grip in the other, and Aliyah knew why: he was good with bullets, not so good with kids. Just like Valentine.

She realized how foolish she’d been to hate mundanes. ’Mancy didn’t make you good or bad – it was love that made the difference. And these two men still cared about her even though she’d thrown their donuts in the sewer…

She loved them. She loved them more than she ever believed she
could
love a mundane.

The flux surged down that love, sensing its chance.

“
No!
” she cried, yanking her hand back, but it was too late.

K-Dash and Quaysean flinched – and then a stream of fire poured in through the doorway, shoving them back against the plywood, separating them, their dark hair going up like matchheads. Aliyah muffled her screams as their clothing burned off, their tribal tattoos blossoming to blacken their skin, revealing exposed muscle, then charred bone.

They didn’t even look at her as they died. They brought their guns up to fire at their murderer, their last thoughts of protecting Aliyah – but the guns turned red-hot in their hands, exploded.

When the flame ceased, the two men were ashen smears.

“
Aliyah!
” Rainbird screamed. “You do
not
leave Mr Payne’s Institute without permission! What were you thinking? Oscar’s men could have shot you! You’re lucky I got here in time to save you!

“I swear,” Rainbird muttered. “You’re as irresponsible as your father.”

Her bad luck was Rainbird’s good luck. Her flux had led him straight to her, just in time to kill K-Dash and Quaysean. Aliyah looked down at Daddy, wiped fake videogame blood off his skin.

K-Dash and Quaysean had died so Daddy could live.

Then she thought nothing at all as she drifted away.

T
he room was dimly lit
, funereal; all Paul could see at first was the soft white curtains drawn around him.

Then he noticed the people standing around him, gripping the rails of his hospital bed: Mrs Vinere, the masqueromancer, wearing a taut mask depicting concern. Juan the bookiemancer peered at Paul’s heart monitor, ticking off Paul’s vital signs in his notepad. Idena took the scrap paper Juan tore off his pad, folded the stained yellow paper into pure-white lilies.

And at the foot of his bed, looking down with the gravity of a coroner, stood Mr Payne.

“Once again, I have rescued you from your bad choices.”

Payne didn’t sound angry, as he had in the past: his deep voice rang with sorrow. What had happened? Why was Paul here? Last he remembered, he had arrived at the laboratory.

Paul moved to sit up; his clothes were stiff. He probed his shirt with his fingers, felt crusted blood ringed around holes in the fabric–

Aliyah–

He leapt out of bed – but the ’mancers moved as one, pressing him against the mattress, comforting him with their touch.

“Your daughter is traumatized,” Payne said gravely. “She watched her father die. Oh, her ’mancy reversed death’s flow – she’s such a strong one, that girl – but she may as well have watched your brains hit the wall. Rainbird is looking after her.”

“But who–”

Payne closed his eyes, inhaling through his nostrils. “Your partner Oscar. For whatever reason, he decided you were a threat.”

“No – he wouldn’t...”

Paul batted away wispy memories of K-Dash and Quaysean bursting through the door, guns in hand.

Payne smiled ruefully. “Your faith in them speaks well of you, Paul. But therein lies your weakness.” He leaned in, as if revealing a dreadful secret: “You are very, very bad at understanding who your friends are.”

“Quaysean and K-Dash wouldn’t...” He remembered them burning, their bodies twitching as their muscles shrank and roasted under Rainbird’s fire. He remembered Aliyah screaming for help. They
had
been there, guns in hand, his shirt riddled with bulletholes.

What had he done to his daughter?

Paul began to weep.

Payne squeezed Paul’s shoulder. “I wish I could allow your grief, Paul. But though I have tried with all my strength to interpose myself between you and your unwise decisions, the psychological damage you have inflicted upon your daughter is the least of our problems.”

The ’mancers clutched his hospital bed rails, bracing for a storm.

“What else?”

“David Giabatta is no longer the Task Force chief,” Payne said. “It has been dissolved. You could have strengthened his position to keep SMASH out – but instead, you engaged in pugilism. Now the mayor has petitioned SMASH for assistance; shock troops are inbound.”

“But Valentine and Tyler–”

“Will be overwhelmed by government forces. They learned their lesson with Anathema – SMASH will send in everything to exterminate this threat. I’ve extended an offer of protection to the two of them, as I would any ’mancer, but…” Payne frowned with distaste; Paul could only imagine what Valentine had said to him. “They prefer death to dependence.”

“We have to–”

“
Paul
.” Payne spoke in the hushed tones of a man performing an intervention. “Have you learned no lesson? They’re not your friends. You’ve put your faith into so many poor bets, Paul. And I’d teach you… but it’s too late to learn.”

“You can’t save them?”

Payne grasped Paul’s hand in his chill fingers. “Paul,” he said, choking up. “I can’t save
you
.”

As Paul looked at the sad procession of ’mancers, he had the bizarre impression of attending his own wake.

“What do you mean you can’t save me?”

Payne squeezed Paul’s hand tightly enough to hurt. “Think it
through
, Paul. The mayor has handed the Task Force’s files to SMASH.”

Stupid. He was so
stupid
, to punch David instead of forging alliances. David had followed Paul’s paper trail from Galuschak’s Garage for weeks, all the way back to where Payne and Paul had buried it in SMASH’s files. David would rather let a ’mancer go than share credit with SMASH…

But now SMASH had David’s files.

They’d find out he’d assisted Psycho Mantis.

“No, please!” Paul grasped Payne’s lapels. “Sir, with your experience we can bury this deeper...”

Payne took no pleasure in peeling Paul’s hands off his suit.

“I can’t help you, Paul. If I intervene, well, I give them a trail that leads them back… well, here.” He waved at the ’mancers; Paul imagined each falling helplessly to military SMASH teams. “And even if I could suppress the information, those files are but one lead.”

“One?”

“You’ve been so tragically clumsy, Paul.” Payne’s voice was thick with sympathy. “Your... compatriot... is in love with this Tyler Durden – a man who commits suicide at the end of the film.”

“That’s not the way it ends,” Paul objected. “He abandons his Tyler Durden persona to become–”

“He shoots himself in the
mouth
, Paul! Only narrative foofaraw keeps
his
brains inside his skull! And so I
assure
you, they
will
fight to the death. And what happens when they find Valentine’s body in the battle’s aftermath? Your best friend? With her one eye and videogame tattoos?”

“But I–”

“Paul. You
will
get caught. You’ve made poor decisions. And… you are hurting
her
.”

Payne flicked on a monitor showing Aliyah, hugging her knees on her Super Mario-sheeted bed, rocking back and forth. Rainbird stood guard next to her; Aliyah shivered.

“You might keep her secret for a little while longer, Paul. But how much damage have you inflicted upon this poor child? You burned her in your apartment, Paul. You forced her to murder for your protection. You made her save you from a splattery death, Paul, and then she watched as Rainbird burned people you attempted to convince her were her
friends
.

“How long, Paul?” Payne clasped his hands together, imploring Paul. “How long will you torment this girl before you recognize you are
bad
for her?”

The guilt was so great, the tears crystallized inside him.

“What...”

A ’mancer handed Paul a glass of water. It was a kind gesture, the first he’d seen them make. Aliyah’s influence, her sociableness, had made them better – then he realized what he’d done to Aliyah, and the water turned to dust in his throat.

“What would you have me do? Kill myself to hide your secrets?”

Payne drew back the curtains, revealing the body on the steel mortician’s table. The skull was bullet-shattered, the face an unthinkable ruin.

But the bare stump on the right leg, the amputated toes on the left – those were clear markers.

“In a sense, Paul,” Payne whispered. “In a sense, yes.”

P
aul was
grateful Rainbird had left. He didn’t need more of Rainbird’s sneering judgment.

Aliyah’s suffering was judgment enough.

She hugged her knees on the bed, the burn scars on her face darker. Aliyah’s once-bright eyes had dimmed, her gaze hollowed out.

Her Nintendo DS sat dead by her side, which scared Paul more than anything; Aliyah was so deep in shock that not even Mario could not soothe her.

Paul wanted to scoop her up in his arms, but Aliyah was all tension, a trap ready to spring.

He’d done this. Him, and his foolish trust.

It was better this way.

“Aliyah.” He squeezed her ankle. He’d always squeezed her ankle. It had been the only part of her he could touch during her skin grafts.

She didn’t answer.

“Sweetie. I…” He swallowed. “Daddy has to go away.”

He thought of the body the ’mancers had shown him.
This is what Aliyah does for them
, Payne had said.
Mrs Vinere could only do masks before. But with Aliyah’s support, she grows stronger
.

And so Mrs Vinere had copied Paul’s body. To be discovered. To all the world, Paul would be dead – and even when SMASH unearthed him, they’d think Valentine was the ’mancer. Who would suspect two videogamemancers, let alone a girl who was almost nine?

But the body… It had been like seeing his own future. His stump scars. His scrawny belly, unbreathing. His wet lump of brain, nestled like a lopsided egg yolk inside his shattered skull.

He’d thought
this is what Aliyah saw
.

That was when he had vowed to leave.

“I have to fake my own death,” he said. “It’s... it’s complicated. Mr Payne will explain it to you. And I don’t want to say that so soon after you saw what you did, sweetie, I know it was terrible, but…”

The words curdled in his throat. “Terrible” was what you said when someone lost their job. What did you say when a girl in third grade saw her daddy shot to death, then had to do awful magics to save him?

“I don’t... I don’t want to leave,” Paul tried again. “But they’ll find you if I stay. They’ll... they’ll
hurt
you, Aliyah. And Mr Payne has promised to look after you. Mommy will keep you at the Institute, I know she will. She will never leave you, no matter what. And…”

Aliyah kept staring into space.

“You’ll be safe here,” he continued. “That’s all I ever wanted for you, Aliyah. Just… a place where you can grow up. And be…”

Paul stopped, frozen by revelation. Whatever she would be, he’d never see that. He realized she’d never been just a child to him – she’d been an arc soaring out into time and space, a point on a long line stretching out beyond adulthood. Never Aliyah the eight year-old, but Aliyah the nine year-old, Aliyah the fashion-conscious teenager, Aliyah the arrogant twenty year-old ready to conquer the world, all those potentials Aliyahs wrapped up in one unspooling truth.

Now he would never see any of that.

He would never hear her tell him about this boy she met, and know before she knew that she loved him.

He would never be there to hug her when her first boyfriend didn’t work out.

He would never get to see her cleverness be tempered with wisdom, never get to see what wild and worldbreaking ’mancy she would accomplish.

He would never get to see what she packed with her to take to college, and what she left behind at her house as childish things.

He would never get to see her fall in true love, as he had with her mother, never hold her arm as he walked her down the aisle, never watch her sneak a drink before she was twenty-one, never get to argue politics with her, and never never never and Paul was dying.

He was already dead. He’d seen himself on the slab. But now he saw the futures he walked away from, and it killed him all over again.

“I don’t want to go. But do you... do you understand how much I love you? That if I could give anything else up, I would?”

“They died for you.”

The words were a whisper. “…what?”

Aliyah whirled on him, from blank to furious in no time at all. “They
died
because of you! They died because of
me
! And you made me... you made me...”

“Sweetie, I made you what?”

“
Get away!
” She launched herself at him, clawing at him, kicking. “
Get away from me! You’re weak! You’re a bad man! You make me do bad things!
”

“Please don’t. Please.” But she scratched him hard enough to draw blood – no ’mancy, just a child’s wordless fury, and before Paul could say anything the orderlies came in, whispering apologies as they escorted Paul from the room.

The last Paul saw of his daughter was Aliyah, kicking at the orderlies, as Rainbird shoved them aside to imprison her in a hug.

P
ayne was kind enough
to give Paul a limousine ride back to Westchester.

“You know what you have to do, Paul,” Payne said. “I don’t envy you. But I do admire you, for what it’s worth.”

“I’ll miss her.”

“Of course you will.” He patted Paul’s leg affectionately. “I’m glad to see you’re finally able to make the hard choices, Paul. Few fathers would be willing to sacrifice themselves so. But a good leader shields those they’ve vowed to protect.”

I’m shielding her,
he thought
. Not leaving. Shielding
.

“We’ll take good care of her. Don’t you worry about that.”

“I won’t.” He should worry, Paul knew. But he didn’t. He felt the numbness of stumbling up before the firing squad, realizing all his options had evaporated.

Get away from me
, Aliyah had said. She didn’t mean it. She’d miss him. She’d come to regret those words, in time. He wished he could help her.

But he couldn’t stay.

The limousine pulled up before an alleyway squeezed between an Italian joint and a diner. Seeing that alley again dug up an old ache – the walls were bare brick now, the once-dry alleyway plumed with dishwashing-machine steam. But there were plenty of trashbags heaped high for Paul to slither in.

“The body should be discovered soon,” Payne told him. “And then… well, I wish you luck.”

Paul stumbled out, drunk with despair. It was late, and the night would get colder; the autumn air had the chill scent of dead leaves, a frosty bite that nipped chunks from his lungs. He crawled into the bags, his artificial foot snagging on the plastic, making as quiet a bed as he could among the garbage.

One ’mancer had died here already.

Come morning, it would be two.

And Paul tuned in as the changes started to cascade across the bureaucratic web. That first police report of a dead body. Matching Paul’s wallet to his body’s distinguishing marks. The first identification of Paulos Costa Tsabo as the deceased.

Payne had been kind. To keep Aliyah’s secret hidden, to keep her safe, Paul had to die. Yet Paul could kill himself for real – or he could take Payne’s offer, sever all ties by annihilating any connection he had to this world.

He hated leaving Aliyah. If he didn’t go, SMASH would brainwash her, annihilate everything he loved about her. And Payne would protect her. He had the resources, so much more wisdom….