Our first mate Sam Lagow is back, with the first installment of a new serial that will be replacing Shademan. Literally. The Shademan pages are gone.
The view from the office was unlike any Jaelyn had ever seen. It made the city seem so finite, and the rest of the world so vast. In her lifetime, she had only been able to look up at towers like the one he now stood at the top of. But now, things were possible. Or, they would be once the surgical scars healed.
She looked idly at the bandages that obscured most of her right arm. The pain was gone, replaced now by a near-constant itching sensation that had been driving her damn near insane. The surgeon had told her not to scratch it, though. Reattachment procedures apparently only took if one made oneself endure the discomfort.
“Load of bull, if you ask me,” Jaelyn said to no one. Still, she had learned long ago to obey the doctor’s orders, and had been enduring discomfort even longer. There was little point, stopping now. With an annoyed sigh, she walked over to an easy chair and threw herself down upon it, landing in an awkward position.
After waiting for a few more minutes, she began to grow bored. Mead said that he would be there at six. It was six forty-five, and the guy hadn’t even called. Thoroughly aggravated, but not the least bit surprised, Jaelyn pulled out her multi-tool and began fooling around with its pliers. It didn’t take her long to discover how fun it was to clamp it around her nose and jerk said appendage around. After a few moments, she realized how silly he must have looked and put the tool away.
You know,she thought, I bet Mead has something interesting in his desk. Hopping up, she ran over to the large, oaken desk and plopped herself down on the large office chair behind it. In front of her lay the infinite wonders of someone else’s stuff. To the left of Mead’s computer were an expensive-looking lighter and a number of pictures, all framed and positioned so that any one could be seen at any time.Jaelyn didn’t recognize most of the people from the pictures, save for Mead (who, oddly enough, had a headshot of himself), Reyes, and a teenage girl a few years older than her who looked oddly familiar. Shrugging, she turned to the drawers. They were more or less empty, if you counted out all the guns and gun accessories. There had to be enough firepower in the top drawer alone to wage a one-man war against the local police and win. She picked up a handgun and pointed it at a sconce on the wall, weighing the pros and cons of shooting. The decision was made for her, however, when the door opened.
“Remove the magazine and put it back in the drawer.” Jaelyn swiveled to see Mead in the doorway, glaring at her from under his forehead. Sheepishly, Jaelyn ejected the magazine and placed the gun on the desk, momentarily forgetting where the drawer was. She stood up and went to the nearest easy chair. Regaining her confidence, she crossed his arms and gave Mead a dirty look.
“And where have you been? You told me to be here at six. You’re, like, an hour late.” Mead adjusted the collar on his uniform and walked into the room, stopping once he faced window as Jaelyn had been doing previously. From where Jaelyn stood, Mead looked like a silhouette against the sunset, his black hair and attire creating the illusion of one. Or maybe Mead was doing that himself. She never could be sure.
“Your sense of entitlement does you no favors. I’m giving you the answers you’ve been asking for out of the kindness of my heart. Don’t think for a moment that we’re following anyone’s schedule but mine.”Jaelyn had known Mead long enough that a placation would get her what she wanted.
“I’m, uh, sorry. It’s just that I’m excited to hear all the things you know. There has to be a lot of it.”
“Indeed,” Mead replied, stroking a nonexistent beard. “Perhaps I’m being too hard on you. Sometimes I forget what it’s like to be young. It was…a very long time ago.” Jaelyn wondered where this was going.
“Does this have anything to do with my parents?” Mead turned to her, giving her a contemplative smile.
“Ah. Yes. You wanted to know how it was they died, didn’t you?” Nodding, Jaelyn leaned back in her chair.
“It was at the top of a long list of questions, yeah.” Having made his way to the desk while Jaelyn replied, Mead picked up the lighter and lit up a cigarette. He blew a perfect smoke ring and grinned like a jester.
“Boring story, really. Why don’t I tell you where I learned to do that?” Mead pointed at the smoke ring, which had mostly faded away at this point. Jaelyn offered no response but a skeptical frown. “It’s a far more interesting story, but fine. Have it your way. What if I told you about how I created hatred in the hearts of millions? Or how about just the first man I killed?”
“I think you may be getting ahead of yourself. Besides, I’m the one asking questions,” Jaelyn replied, not humbly enough for Mead’s liking.
“Yes, and I’m the one with all the answers, young miss. Do you know all the things I do? Have you come as close to death as many times as I have?” There was a very long silence.
“I’m twelve.”
“That matters so very little.The presence of that bandage on your arm is proof enough of the fact. It’s not as if the damn thing fell off after a monkey bar accident.” Mead finished his cigarette and placed the butt in an ashtray, waiting for a response.
“Can you just tell me what you said you’d tell me?”
“I could, but, lacking context, it would be a short, boring little anecdote that wouldn’t even make any sense. Like a story about the fifth shot of tequila in a long, long, night of drinking, yelling, and getting punched.”
“But you said-”
“How about the whole story, cover to cover? I doubt you have anything better to do this evening than learn what brought you into my office today.”
“Just keep it interesting.” Mead lit another cigarette and sat down. After spinning around in the chair once, he leaned back and let out a lung-full of smoke.
“I’ll start at the beginning.My beginning. Thirty years after the heroes had all died.”