bandombigbang 10: Part IV
Part III - Part V
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It always takes Matt a few minutes to fully drop out of the Trance. The actual length of time varies by way of the length of the jump and just how tired Matt is, so it isn’t any surprise to Matt that this time it takes him almost a full ten minutes to become aware of the bridge around him.
He sort of wishes it had taken him longer because the fucking alarms are really loud. Like, ear shatteringly. “What the fuck?”
“Hey, dude! Nice flying there,” Joe says. “Your transitions are getting smoother, dude. Didn’t even feel a ripple between hyperspace and here.” Joe’s leaning against Matt’s chair and holding out a bottle of water. It’s like he doesn’t even notice the alarms that are blaring or the way the emergency warning lights are turning the bridge into a really fucked up looking dance club.
Joe’s also eating a doughnut, which means he’ll be completely zen for the next several hours.
“Um, thanks?” Matt says. He takes the offered water and drinks half of it in a single go. Then he unbuckles himself from the chair and stands up for a stretch. Emergency or not, five straight hours of not moving demands a bit of a stretch. “What the fuck?”
“Patrick just launched the probe, dude,” Joe tells him. “We’re all gathering up here to see what it finds.”
Matt can see Ryan and Stu at their normal stations - Ryan is muttering to himself and punching a lot of commands in, meaning he’s probably trying to turn the alarms off, or at least silence them - and Pete is sprawled across the chair at the science station. Patrick and Kyle come walking through the doors before Matt can ask what’s going on again.
“Stump, I don’t know how the fuck you did it, but there is nothing out there!” Andy shouts as he appears in front of Patrick with a sound that better resembles a cracking whip than the opening of a pop. “What the fuck is going on!”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “I already told you - this is the Edge. The beginning and the end of everything. You’re fine.”
“Fine? Fine?” Andy says. “I’m fucking drained is what I am! Exhausted! Not good!”
Matt watches Andy swing his arms around and idly thinks that Andy has some pretty good melodramatic tension working for him. Then it hits him what Andy said. “Dude, you can’t be exhausted. You’re never exhausted.”
“Never say never, dude,” Joe says. “You should finish your water.”
“Ryan, could you please shut those alarms off?” Stu asks. “I can’t hear myself think.”
Ryan scowls at Stu as the alarms shut off pretty much as soon as he finishes his request. “That better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“No, not better!” Andy half-shouts. “This isn’t possible, Stump!”
“Seriously, relax,” Patrick says. “It’s only going to take a few minutes for the probe to send back the information I need. We should be able to leave in under an hour, two tops.”
“Um, actually. We might be here a little longer than that,” Matt says. He’s pointing at the main viewer screen when they all turn to look at him. There’s a woman standing outside of the ship. Matt’s pretty sure things aren’t going to be as easy as Patrick has been insisting.
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It doesn’t matter than Ryan had turned off all the alarms as every single one of his exterior hull alarms are flashing and flaring warnings at him again, which is causing havoc to spread through to the ones throughout his interior. He only has snow from decks Three through Six, and the temperature readings from the rest of the decks are flashing between hot and cold.
Andy, however, is too busy staring at the ten meter tall woman in the gunmetal and blue evening gown that had just appeared several meters off his forward bow to do more than portion out a small part of his systems to watch that particular mess.
Andy has no idea how to even begin explaining her - there’s nothing in front of him and yet some more nothing behind him. Absolutely nothing. Not even a single iota of space particle. One corner of his mind hums at him, muttering about how that’s why they call this the Edge in the first place. Andy tells that part of his mind to shut the fuck up and figure out how to make the sensors start working again. He wants something to go on here. Anything would be an enormous help at this point.
And in front of him still stands the woman. All ten meters of steel and blue evening gown.
“Um. Stump?” Matt asks. “What kind of experiment did you say you were running again?”
“Also, who’s the tall lady in the flashy dress?” Stu adds.
“Patrick Martin Stumph, you stand accused of trespassing and of brainwashing mortals to the detriment of their souls for your own foul deeds,” the lady says. Actually, truly says. Her voice carries through the vacuum of nothingness and Andy’s hull like there is mere air between her and them.
Except for how there is no air between her and his hull, and his hull is only a mere ten feet thick on its own, once you take the ductwork and wiring into account. Andy is officially freaking the fuck out.
Patrick, however, just looks incredibly pissed off. “Fuck off, Delinda. Your hocus pocus, witchy act isn’t fooling anyone.”
“Peter Kingston Lewis Wentz III and Joseph Mark Trohman, you are both accused of failing in your sacred task,” she continues, completely ignoring Patrick. Who is scowling like he wants to dive through the hull and choke a bitch. Pete looks a little shifty-eyed and Joe looks perfectly calm and satisfied.
That second part is probably due to the doughnut he’d just finished.
“Delinda, you’re looking well. Still forecasting the doom and gloom?” Pete asks. He moved straight to Patrick’s side as soon as the woman had appeared on the view screen.
“Also, we haven’t failed anything,” Joe says. “Patrick is still very much amongst the mortals, and the Universe hasn’t imploded yet. Or is it exploded?” He turns to Patrick. “Dude, what happens when the Universe ends again? I always forget.”
Patrick scowls at him. “I have no idea, Trohman. I haven’t exactly witnessed the end of the Universe.”
“Whoa! Wait up,” Kyle breaks in. He grabs a hold of Pete’s arm and shakes him a little. Kyle was probably trying for Patrick or Joe, but Pete has a nasty habit of blocking anyone from Patrick, so Pete was Kyle’s only choice. “‘End of the Universe’? That is not something we agreed on, people!”
Pete scowls and tries to push Kyle off of him. It doesn’t exactly work, what with Pete being a tiny, little dude and Kyle being a space mechanic by trade and, well, not a tiny, little dude.
“The Universe isn’t ending!” Patrick shouts. “Fuck, people! I do know what the fuck I am doing here, thank you very much!”
“And what, exactly, is that again?” Matt asks.
“I knew this was a bad fucking plan,” Andy says. No one is listening to him, which is completely fucking typical, really. “I told you that this was a bad fucking plan. Who the fuck goes to the Edge?”
“You were discharged, Stumph,” Delinda says. “There is no readmittance to those discharged. To seek such will call the balances of the Universe out of sync, thus creating…”
“Oh, shut up,” Patrick snaps. “ ‘Discharged’, my ass. You overbearing, self-important, self-centered assholes know nothing of the actual harmonies of the Universe. Being able to calculate pi to its centillionth digit isn’t an indication of godliness! It’s barely a sign of intelligence!”
Matt leans close to Andy’s holographic form. “Dude. Can you calculate pi to its centillionth digit?”
Andy shrugs. “Maybe if you gave me three years and absolutely no interruptions.”
“Oh.”
“I was the one to write the damn papers! I pioneered the theories on Universal Harmonics,” Patrick snaps. He’s flailing his arms around like a madman. Honestly, he looks one hundred percent ridiculous. “You…”
“You were discharged, Stumph,” Delinda repeats. She crosses her arms over her chest and smirks at Patrick. “You know the laws as well as I do. Once invoked, there are no take backs.”
Patrick’s arms fall to his sides, hands clenched tightly into fists. If there were ever to be a human capable of producing lasers from his eyes, it would be Patrick right at this moment. “The laws? Oh, you must mean the ones that you lot completely butchered when you decided to banish me. Pretty fucking convenient, you hiding behind words and traditions you’ve already completely trampled to dust.”
“You can take up your disagreement with the Council, Stumph. You and your babysitters are hereby placed under arrest,” Delinda says. Her smirk goes from completely aggravating to mildly frightening, and if Andy actually had a spine, he’s pretty sure he’d have had chills running the length of it from her expression. “You are to be presented to the Council immediately. These humans that you’ve duped are to be brought along as witnesses of your transgressions against the Universe.”
“Leave them out of it!” Patrick snaps. “They’ve done nothing!”
“That is for the Council to decide.” Delinda raises her arm and snaps her fingers. From them shoot out tendrils of energy the exact same shade of pink as her hair that proceed to enter the bridge and wrap around everyone, even Andy’s hologram.
Every single portion of Andy’s consciousness is screaming at him in alarm. But before he can even finish the thought to fire every weapon he has at her, everything sparks to white noise and fuzz, and then there is nothing.
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When Matt wakes up, he’s laying flat out on something soft. Also, vaguely itchy. And there is a very warm weight against his right side. It takes him a full minute before he can even open his eyes, much less push himself into a sitting position. His head is pounding and his body feels vaguely fuzzy, like he’d gone on a massive bender the night before. Except Matt can distinctly remember piloting through hyperspace to the Edge, where they were accosted by a really tall lady with pink hair and an evening gown and a pink energy web. Then everything is majorly fuzzy.
“Son of a bitchy Mossian Pixie,” Stu groans from somewhere to Matt’s left. “What in the twenty-seven versions of hell happened?”
“No idea,” Kyle answers. He’s off to Matt’s right, and he sounds like he’s about to hurl. “I feel like someone tossed me into a life-sized blender. A very, very pink one.”
Matt finally manages to both open his eyes and sit up. The first thing he notices is that they’re no longer on the ship, but rather in a very large, very expensively decorated room. Seriously. Matt knows his pricing when it comes to paintings and furniture, and if that couch isn’t a Louise Strat original? He’ll eat one of Patrick’s hats.
The second thing he notices is that the warm weight against his right side? Is Andy. A very solid, actually breathing Andy.
“Holy shit.” Matt reaches over and pokes Andy in the side, just to make sure that he isn’t seeing things. His finger most definitely hits t-shirt covered flesh, and Andy most definitely swats at his hand. “Dudes! Andy’s a real boy!”
There’s a moment of silence, where not even Stu groans, that’s broken by Kyle saying, “Matt, did you hit your head again? Is there blood?”
“There will be if he doesn’t stop poking me,” Andy snaps. He slaps Matt’s hand away again before pushing himself off the floor. Then he starts swearing.
“Why is Andy swearing?” Ryan asks. He groans as his sits up, holding his head and squinting. “And where are we?”
“I have no idea where we are,” Matt admits. He reaches out to poke at Andy again, and winces when Andy smacks him again. “Andy’s swearing because he’s a real boy now.”
“Seriously, Mixon,” Stu sighs. “This really isn’t the best time for you to be quoting ‘Pinocchio’.”
“Is there a best time for that?” Kyle asks. He’s on his feet and moving around the room, probably checking for a way out. “Okay, the only other room is the bathroom, and there are no doors or window out of here. Where ever this is, we aren’t leaving anytime soon.”
“Did you happen to see Patrick, Joe or Pete anywhere?” Matt asks. He’s on his feet now, and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his pants so he doesn’t do anything crazy like poke Andy again. Andy’s still swearing up a storm and running his hands all over himself, so Matt really doesn’t want him to figure out he can actually strangle someone at the moment. It’d probably be for the best if he figured that out when whoever locked them in here shows their faces.
“Nope. There is no one in here but us,” Kyle says. “What do you all remember?”
“Just that crazy lady saying she was arresting our passengers, then attacking us with that pink energy web-thing,” Stu says. Everyone, well, except for Andy who is still swearing, utters their agreements. “So. First things first. Andy should probably calm down before he gives himself a coronary, and then we should make a plan.”
Andy drops his hands from where they were pressing against his eyes so he can glare at Stu. The glare is totally more effective coming out of a solid body then it was from the hologram. “Calm down? I’m solid! Breathing! I have a fucking heartbeat, Rossman!”
Stu shrugs. “Okay. That really isn’t anything to panic over, man. We all have heartbeats, too.”
Andy makes an animalistic sound deep in his throat seconds before he lunges at Stu. Stu ducks behind a replica of an eighteenth century ancient Earth writing desk, but Matt grabs Andy before he can reach it. It takes a couple of minutes, because while Andy might be tiny and newly humanoid, he is both strong and fast, but Matt manages to pull him into a bastardized hug with Andy’s arms trapped against Matt’s chest.
“Andy, man, you need to breath,” Matt tells him. He drops his head onto Andy’s and squeezes until Andy squeaks and sort of goes limp against him. Matt loosens his hold a little, and when Andy doesn’t immediately try to break free, Matt turns the hold into more of a hug. “It’s going to be okay, man. We’ll figure out what’s going on. Stu’s just being an asshole.”
Andy presses his head against Matt’s collarbone. His breathing is still ragged, but Matt isn’t worried about him passing out now. “This can’t be happening,” Andy says. His voice is really soft, and Matt’s heart sort of clenches at the sound. He’s never heard Andy sound scared - there really isn’t a lot in the Universe to scare Andy - but he’s pretty sure that this is what it sounds like. “I’m a Ship! My body is compressed steel and wire, not blood and bone!”
“It’ll be okay, man,” Matt repeats, hugging him tighter when Andy just starts shaking. Above Andy’s head, Matt meets the others’ eyes. They are obviously just as freaked out as Matt is, but underneath that is anger. None of them deal well with being held against their wills, but this goes beyond that. Andy is family. Whoever Delinda and her people are, they’ve hurt Andy. And no one hurts their family.
“We’re going to figure this out, Andy,” Ryan tells him.
“There’s a shitload of tech mixed in with these antiques,” Kyle says. “Ryan and I are going to come up with something to get us out of here, and then you and Stu can fuck shit up. Just give us some time.”
Neither of them wait for a response before they’re digging through everything, pulling bits and pieces of things Matt doesn’t recognize out of drawers and from between books and lamps and vases. Kyle drags Stu with him, making Stu hold everything he finds so he can keep digging.
Matt just tugs Andy over to the loveseat in the corner. He sits and pulls Andy into his lap, tucking Andy’s head under his chin and wrapping his arms around Andy’s waist. “The guys will figure this out, Andy. Promise.”
“I should help them,” Andy says. Then he yawns. “What the fuck?”
Matt laughs a little. “You’re fucking tired, dude. Remember telling Patrick that you felt drained? Trying catching some sleep, I’ll keep a look out.”
“I don’t need sleep,” Andy protests. “I’m a Ship.”
“Yeah,” Matt agrees. “You are a Ship. Except right now you’re currently humanoid and possibly a little shocky. Just rest for a little while, okay?”
Andy sighs, and Matt is suddenly trying really hard not to shudder as the warm air brushes across his neck. “All right, fine. Just a few minutes.”
“Sounds good to me,” Matt says. But he’s pretty sure Andy doesn’t even hear him, at least if the way his breathing evens out and how his body loosens up is any indication.
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Andy’s still asleep a few hours later when a really tall and skinny dude in a black suit just appears in the middle of the room. He nods casually at all of them, not looking the least bit worried by the steadily growing pile of technology surrounding Kyle and Ryan nor by the way Stu automatically draws the letter opener he’d found in the writing desk. The dude snaps his fingers and a buffet appears on a table against the wall behind him. The food smells really good.
“Good day,” the guy says. “I trust you are feeling no lasting side effects to your travels? I’m afraid you will be needed to stay here for a while longer yet; the Council is in session, and everyone is in an uproar about Stumph’s return.”
“What the fuck is going on here? Where is Patrick? And Pete and Joe?” Stu demands. “And just what did you people do to Andy?”
“Stump, Wentz, and Trohman are currently on trial and being questioned by the Council,” the guy explains. He’s turned his back on them and is setting something up by the table. “As for ‘Andy’, as you call him, nothing has been done. It is an unfortunate fact that his Ship form is simply too large to fit inside the walls. So he had to be reverted to his human form.
“Now, I understand that you have many more questions, but I am not at liberty to answer them; I simply have too much to do at the moment.” The dude finishes whatever it was he was doing and turns around to face them again. “I am here to see to it that you are properly dined, as it would not do to treat guests improperly, and to tell you that you will be brought forth before the Council to speak as to your interactions with the accused. Until then, you are asked to retire here in what comfort we are able to provide. Good day.”
He nods at them once before disappearing to wherever he came from, leaving behind the buffet and a dining table set up for seven. Then Matt feels a weight lift off his shoulders. He hadn’t even noticed that he couldn’t move when the dude was in the room.
“Well, that explains why there are no doors,” Stu says after a minute.
“Do you think they have technology for the teleportation, or is it something more organic?” Kyle wonders.
“I don’t particularly care,” Stu says. “It won’t matter when I start busting skulls.”
Matt is distracted by the rest of their argument when Andy startles awake. “Hey, man. You sleep well?”
Andy groans and pushes himself upright. “My head hurts, I feel dizzy, and I could have sworn I heard someone I don’t know a second ago.” His stomach growls as soon as he finishes his sentence, and he scowls down at it.
“You probably need to eat. I know I’m starving,” Matt says. “Luckily some dude just showed up and brought us food.”
“Wait, what?” Andy’s head snaps up and he glares at Matt. “There was someone else here? Why the fuck didn’t you wake me up?”
“Because you were under so far you were snoring, and the dude was only here for about a minute,” Matt says. “He was all teleport in, ‘Here! Have some food! Oh, by the way, you can’t leave just yet because Patrick and Pete and Joe are on trial and you have to talk to the Council, too! Also, Andy isn’t a Ship at the moment because a Ship is too big for the building!’ And then he teleported out again.”
Andy blinks. “Right. Anything else?” He climbs out of Matt lap so he can stand up and stretch. Matt watches his shirt pull up and expose the inch of pale skin between it and the waistband of Andy’s pants.
“Only that Stu didn’t kill the guy because I think he had us pinned in place some how. Kyle was wondering if these people just have really, really advanced technology or if they use magic right before you woke up,” Matt says. He doesn’t really want to explain how he spent the entire time Andy was sleeping staring at him. He does manage to drag his eyes away from Andy’s pants before Andy catches him looking and then Matt stands up to stretch himself. Andy might be a tiny dude, but he’s heavy.
“Hey, feeling better?” Ryan asks when he sees Andy standing.
Andy pauses for a moment before he nods. “I think so? My head hurts, and I’m a little dizzy, but. Whatever.” He shrugs. “It’s weird.”
Ryan nods. “Your blood sugar is probably low; I’m willing to bet that the shock of reverting to human form and then crashing for six hours will do that to you. You should probably grab something to eat.”
“We all should,” Kyle says with a sigh. He carefully places what he was working on the couch behind him and shoves the rest of the detritus on his lap away from him before standing up. “We have no idea how long we’re going to be here; best to keep our strength up.”
“Do we think it’s safe?” Matt asks. He’s standing at the buffet and looking it over. He doesn’t recognize half of what it is, but some of it looks exactly like the stuff his mother used to make when he still lived at home. He grabs a fork and pokes a plate of what is mostly likely cheeses.
“What is with you and poking shit?” Stu asks. He grabs a strawberry out of a bowl of them and looks it over. He shrugs. “Looks fine to me.” He takes a bite out of it and chews it slowly. “Tastes fine, too.”
“Right,” Matt says. He stabs a piece of cheese and eats it. He waits until he swallows before saying, “Yeah, that’s definitely sharp cheddar. I think the food’s okay.” He reaches over for a plate and then starts loading it up, ignoring Stu’s mumbling about how certain people never listen to him. When he sees that Andy is just staring at the food, he grabs another plate to hand to him. “Come on, man. You need to eat something.”
Andy scowls at him but takes the plate. He completely ignores all the meat, filling his plate with pastas, fruits and vegetables. Matt decides he doesn’t want to know.
They all sit down at the table to eat in silence, everyone too busy chowing down to talk. Then Pete and Joe appear next to the writing desk. They look like hell - Pete’s face is beet red, and his hands are clenched in fists, and Joe’s hair is about twice its normal size, the curls almost engulfing his face - and Pete is still shouting at whomever he’d been shouting at before he appeared.
“…fuckers better let him go! I will fuck you up! All of you!” He breaks off with a strangled shout when he realizes where he is. “Those frog humping sons of bitches…”
Joe doesn’t pull his hand away from Pete’s mouth, even when Matt’s pretty sure Pete bites him. “Not helping.”
Pete growls but stops trying to talk. After another minute, Joe pulls his hand away. “I’m not going to let them take him.”
“We, Pete,” Joe corrects. “We aren’t going to let them. The fuck you’re doing anything on your own.”
“Agreed,” Matt tells them. They whip around at the sound of his voice and he waves at them. “Howdy, boys. I take things aren’t going as well as you’d like.”
Pete snorts. “No shit, Mixon. That isn’t a trial. That is a group of fucking school children pouting because they know they are in the wrong and they were caught but they don’t want to admit it. They’re just trying to piss Patrick off enough so he’ll say he was trying to destroy the Universe so they can off him without feeling guilty about it.”
“Why don’t the two of you sit down and explain what is going on so that we can figure out what to do?” Kyle says. He motions to the two empty seats with his fork.
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It takes about an hour and a whole lot of swearing before they get the full story out of them. Matt’s pretty used to dealing with weird shit - the Universe is full of things that are just plain weird - but this just takes things to a whole new level.
Patrick is a former deity. A god. Of music and songwriting and universal harmonies to be specific. Apparently at one point in his past he’d gotten into an argument with another deity that’d ragged for a long time (Matt doesn’t know if ‘a long time’ stands for decades or centuries or whatever, but his brain frizzes out a little at the thought of Patrick being old enough to have had an argument for a couple hundred years so he stops thinking about it). In the end, the other deity had set Patrick up and had him kicked out of the Ethereal Plains for good. Because Patrick had taken some time and left the Ethereal Plains to hang out with mortals to try to prove his point, and, apparently, deities aren’t allowed to hang out with mortals.
So Patrick was kicked out, and with that he lost his godhood and became human. Pete and Joe were charged with watching Patrick, making sure that he didn’t go around breaking deity law by being all talkative about it. Or something. Pete starts rambling at that point, and Matt has to stop listening to him before his head starts to hurt. Well, hurt more.
“So now they’re saying that Patrick had come to the Edge with the intent of taking something from the Beginning, which would, of course, destroy the Universe,” Joe finishes over the sounds of Pete’s mutterings. “And that contradicts his discharge orders, so now they want to kill him off. ‘For the good of the Universe’ or so they say, but mostly they’re just pissed that he hasn’t come crawling back to them begging to be let back in.”
Joe shrugs. “Patrick, for the most part, doesn’t mind being human and living outside of the Ethereal Plain.”
“But he’s been a little homesick,” Ryan guesses. He looks at Kyle, who’s nodding his agreement. They’d all seen the way Patrick had been acting. “And he’d always hoped that these other deities would figure out they were wrong and let him come home.”
“They’re his family,” Joe agrees. He isn’t looking at anyone, poking at the mangled mess of food on his plate, and even Pete has gone quiet.
Matt tilts his head to the side and thinks about all of that for a minute. He still comes up with the same conclusion that had initially popped into his head. “Yeah, no. You are so completely wrong.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe asks.
“Those condescending assholes aren’t his family; you two are,” Matt says. “Duh.”
Andy nods at Matt. “No, Matt’s right,” he says before Joe can say anything. “This is what you were getting at the other day, wasn’t it, Trohman? You three aren’t just ‘kindred spirits’, you idiot, you’re family.”
“But…” Joe starts. He looks like he’s working himself up for a long and hard battle that he doesn’t expect to win and wants even less to actually fight.
“No, man, just give up now,” Stu advices. “Andy’s a Ship, and he doesn’t lay claim to ‘normal’ emotions, so if he’s telling you that you three are family, then you’re fucking family. Because you are.”
“Oh.” Joe and Pete look at each other for a long moment. “Do you think Patrick’s figured it out yet?”
Pete snorts. “Not a chance. He was still stressing about not being able to go ‘home.’” Pete looks pointedly around the room. “Not that this place is all that awesome.”
“The food’s okay, but the decorations totally suck,” Kyle agrees. “What do you two know about teleportation devices?”
“Um, no one’s built a successful one yet?” Pete says.
“That’s because no one has really been motivated enough to finish it,” Joe muses. “Lots and lots of money isn’t really all that exciting once you figure out the amount of tax the Republic would slap down on something like that.”
“Plus the enforced slavery,” Andy agrees. “And the possibility of another Cola Corp fiasco.”
“Yeah, that, too,” Joe says. “Why?”
“Oh, because Ryan and I think we’ve got something close to a working model,” Kyle says. “Want to take a look at it? An extra set of eyes wouldn’t hurt.”
“Won’t really do you much good, though,” Joe says. “Even if we could teleport out of here and back to the ship, we’ve no way of getting back into our bodies.”
Matt blinks at him. “What?”
“Hmmm? Oh,” Joe says. “That net thing Delinda hit us with?”
“The pink energy?” Kyle clarifies.
“Yeah, that stuff,” Joe says. “That pulled our spirit energy out of our bodies so that we could come to the Ethereal Plains, and then leave again without any lingering affects. They all think that there’s something about this place that leaves a person like an addict jonesing for their next hit.”
There’s a moment of silence before Andy rolls his eyes. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Welcome to the residents of the Ethereal Plains: the Universe’s gods are all cracked.” Pete smirks at him. Then he turns to Kyle. “Show me what you’ve figured out. We might need it to get Patrick out of here.”
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Matt isn’t sure how much time has past before the tall, skinny guy pops back into the room. A few hours at least, if the amount of supposed progress Kyle and Ryan have made is a good indicator. He doesn't think it could be much later than that anyway. He's sure that Pete or Joe would have torn down the walls to get to Patrick if that were the case.
No matter how much time had passed, Pete is definitely not pleased to see the guy. "Reginald," he growls as soon as he sees the guy. Joe has a hold of Pete's arm to stop him from going after the guy, even with the weird mojo holding everyone pretty much in place Pete is going to make a go at the guy's face.
"Peter," Reginald replies. He looks totally calm, even a little bored in the face of Pete's fury. "You're looking homicidal as always."
"You're holding him hostage, and his boyfriend on trial," Joe says, voice too even for him to really be calm. Matt suddenly wishes the buffet had included doughnuts. "Do you really expect him to sound pleasantly pleased to see you?"
"Regardless of the situation, Joseph, there is no need to forgo politeness," Reginald says.
Stu snorts. "Bullshit. Politeness only counts in cutthroat politics. Where's Patrick?"
"In the Council's chambers. I've already explained this to you," Reginald says. He sounds bored. "You are all expected there now."
"Wow, some type of service you've all developed," Ryan says. He looks at Kyle, who nods.
"Seriously. First, you all kidnap us. Then you hold us against our wills, and now you're just going to order us around?" Kyle says. "What part of this is within the realms of 'politeness'?"
Reginald looks affronted. Matt really wants to slap him. He's pretty sure he'd end up last in a long line; he's also pretty sure that they're all a little high strung. "We've done everything possible to keep you comfortable while you waited."
Andy rolls his eyes. "Right. Because a gilded cage isn't still a cage."
"I see you will not share our point of view," Reginald sighs, like they're all disappointing him by not seeing the big picture. Matt imagines holding him down so Pete and Joe can beat him with the big picture - it'd probably have thick, heavy, and overly decorated frame that would leave a really nice dent. "It's just as well, and I should have expected it, but I am ever the optimist. Nonetheless, the Council has called for your presences in the Council's chambers. It will not do to keep them waiting."
Matt would be more than happy to keep the fuckers waiting a couple of lifetimes - it'd give Stu and Andy more time to come up with ways to kill all the fuckers, and Kyle and Ryan more time to finish their teleportation device - but being able to grab Patrick would be even better. Plus, he's pretty sure Pete and Joe will go completely nuts if they don't get to Patrick sometime yesterday.
"Right, fine," Andy says. "Take us to your leaders and all that shit."
Matt can't help himself, he has to laugh. Fucking Stu and his fucking vids. Andy glares at him, but that only makes him laugh harder. "To your leaders!"
"You'll have to excuse, Matt," Kyle sighs. "He goes a little stir crazy when he's locked in a room with no way out. You understand."
"Of course," Reginald says. He snaps his fingers, and the mojo holding them down releases. Joe almost loses his grip on Pete, but it doesn't really matter, because between one breath and the next, they're out of 'their' room and inside a small rectangular box in the middle of a large airy room.
In front of them, on a raised dais and behind a large and thick table is a group of ten men and women. They all look constipated. The other three walls have what look like audience seating, which is filled with even more men and women. In another box next to theirs, but much smaller, is Patrick. Who looks tired, hungry, and very, very pissed off.
"Dude, can I shoot anyone yet?" Stu asks him. Patrick gives him a tight lipped glare, but it's pretty obvious that he wouldn't seriously object to people being shot.
"I'm afraid you do not have jurisdiction to be shooting anyone, Mr. Ross," one of the ladies on the bench says. All five of the women look alike to Matt, and so do the men. He wonders if that means they all share the same brain, too.
"Hasn't stopped me before," Stu tells her.
"It's true," Kyle says. "Stu shoots anyone who deserves it."
"It's that Space Pirate business with his father," Ryan explains. "Mostly he picks the right fights."
"And the others aren't exactly wrong," Matt says. "Stu's a good shot and really good at finishing what other people start."
"Regardless of Mr. Ross's inclinations in his previous actions, there will be no shooting inside the Council chambers," the third guy from the left says.
Pete, who had been having an entire conversation with Patrick with only their eyebrows, brightens and turns to grin mischievously at the Council. "Then how about we all step outside the chambers? We'll be more than happy to take this fight outside."
"Pete," Patrick sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You really need to stop antagonizing people.”
Pete scoffs and waves his hand in the air. “Dude, this is totally what we’ve been gearing up for! Or do you really think we’ve saved your ass all those times because you’re cute?”
“I always thought it was because of the great sex,” Joe says. He and Pete high five when Patrick blushes. “Besides, dude,” Joe tells Patrick once he and Pete are done celebrating, “It isn’t like these assholes are actually people. They get cranky when you call them people.”
“Mr. Trohman, we’ve repeatedly asked you to watch your language,” the fourth woman from the right snaps. She’s a bit more severe looking than the rest. “You will not be asked again.”
Joe raises an eyebrow at her, then turns back to Patrick. “See? Assholes.”
“Can someone explain what is actually going on here?” Matt asks quickly. Severe Lady looked ready to smite Joe where he stood, and that was awfully close to where Matt was standing. Not that Matt wanted to see Joe smited - smote? - anyway, but Matt would feel better if he wasn’t caught in the crossfire. “Please.”
The Council turn their heads as one (actually Severe Lady is about a second behind because she seemed to feel the need to glare at Joe some more) to look at Reginald. Who shrugged. Eloquently, of course.
“I’ve explained it twice now,” he says. “They just don’t seem to understand.”
“Actually, we found your explanation to be lacking in something,” Kyle says. He turns to Ryan. “What’s that word I’m looking for?”
“I do believe you mean ‘clarity’, Kyle,” Ryan says.
Kyle nods. “Yes, of course. Your explanation lacked clarity.”
“I was perfectly clear. Stumph is on trial for his attempts to destroy the Universe, and for his breaking of the agreements set forth on the occasion of his dismissal, and Mr. Wentz and Mr. Trohman stand accused of allowing Stumph to do this, thus failing in their sacred duty,” Reginald says. “It’s really all very straight forward.”
“And very much lacking in details,” Kyle says.
“Yes, very much,” Ryan agrees. “Like, for example, why do you keep calling Patrick ‘Stumph’? His name is Stump. Puh!”
“And, more importantly perhaps, why was Patrick dismissed, what were the exact terms of Patrick’s original dismissal, and just what, exactly, does any of that have anything to do with what we were doing today?” Matt asks.
“Also, what the fuck do you want with my crew?” Andy snaps.
“Stumph, as is his birth name, was accused of acting in a manner unbefitting of a deity, and continued his transgressions even after formal and informal warnings were given,” the dude in the center of the big table says. “Unfortunately, we are not at liberty to discuss at length the details pertaining to that case.”
“As for your crew, Fuck City,” the lady next to him says. Matt blinks at the use of Andy’s official name - it’s weird. “You are ordered to convey the deeds and actions of Stumph and his guardians to this Council as testimony.”
“Ordered?” Andy says. The tone of his voice is similar to the one and only time in Matt’s experience that Andy had fired on an unarmed, dead-in-the-water ship. Granted, that ship had a crew that had tried to kidnap and force the crew into a hush-hush, vaguely legal slavery ring on the edge of the Alaskan Quadrant. Andy’s not very good at handling being forced to harm his crew.
“Yes, ordered,” the lady repeats. “We will treat you as hostile witnesses if need be.”
“Darling, you haven’t yet seen hostile,” Stu says. He’s standing off to the side of the rest of them - Pete and Joe as close to Patrick as they can get without jumping the wall, Kyle and Ryan next to them, Andy and Matt next to them, and Stu to the far side. He’s been canvassing the room since they reappeared and Matt knows he has at least two weapons on his person - the fancy ass letter opener and a flash bomb that Joe had pieced together with the scraps from Kyle’s and Ryan’s teleportation device. Stu’s just waiting for the right moment.
Gods or not, if Stu has his chance, there won’t be anything left but rubble and gore.
“You’re barking up the wrong tree, lady,” Matt tells her. “Whatever vendetta you have against, Patrick, Pete, or Joe, we won’t help you.”
“He’s broken our laws, and must face punishment,” the last man at the table says.
“Your laws are not our own then, and we are under no obligation to up hold your laws,” Andy says. “Not one of these men have broken the laws we are forced to live with, making this not a trial, but an excuse for you to flaunt your power. We have faced down worse than the Barataria Familys: you do not frighten us. And you will not win.”
“This is ridiculous!” A woman in the audience shouts. Matt agrees, but he suspects they have different reasons.
“Yeah! Stumph came back - he should be executed!” A man three rows behind her shouts in agreement. “‘The Banished shall never return!’”
Patrick blinks, then straightens up in his box. He turns to Pete and Joe and smiles. “That is the Law, Pete.”
Pete blinks and looks at Joe. Joe shrugs. “Okay. And that’s a good thing?”
“Yes, Pete,” Patrick says. He stares intently at him. “The Law says that the Banished shall never return.”
“I’m pretty sure we’ve already covered that, Patrick,” Pete tells him.
“Wait,” Stu says. He leans out in front of Andy so he can see around everyone and talk to Patrick (almost) directly. “How specific is this law?”
“What is the importance of specifics?” Severe lady says. “Stumph returned and as such has the Law. He is to be executed.”
“Humor us,” Matt says. He thinks he might know what Patrick and Stu are getting at, and he has to pinch his thigh not to laugh. “We don’t know your laws, remember?”
There is a moment of silent conversation between the Council members before the second dude on the left throws up his hands. Several of the others look just as exasperated.
The lady in the middle answers Stu’s question, and she sounds like she’s reciting directly from a book, only there is no book (or any other paper or computer product in the room. “As it is taken from the Writ: It is Law that should a Citizen of the Ethereal Plains be convicted of crimes against their fellow Citizens on the basis of Trial by Peer, they shall hence forth be Banished from these Immortal Lands. Those Banished shall never return to the Ethereal Plains upon Punishment of Death, as delegated by a Council of their Peers. Those found to have helped their Return will subject to the same Punishment; those found to have helped hinder their Return will be greatly Rewarded.”
“Right,” Stu nods. He shares a look with Patrick, who is still smiling happily. “Is the Edge a part of the Ethereal Plains?”
“No,” Patrick says at the same time as the man in the middle of the table says, “Yes!”
Patrick sneers at him. “It is not! Doesn’t the Writ also say that the Ethereal Plains shall never extend its borders outside the land and space already possessed?”
The man frowns and doesn’t answer.
The second man, the one who had thrown up his hands, sighs and nods at Stu and Patrick. “The Writ does say this is so, Maximum. The Edge is not a part of the Ethereal Plains as the Writ describes our land and space.”
Maximum looks ready to protest again, but the lady who quoted the law rests a hand on his arm and he shuts his mouth with another frown. “Edmond speaks the truth.”
“So the Edge isn’t a part of the Ethereal Plains?” Pete asks. “I’m just asking to clarify, of course.” He’s also bouncing on his heels and smiling really big.
“No, the Edge is a separate entity under the Writ,” Edmond says. “The Edge is the Beginning and the Ending of our Universe, and we are but its keepers.”
“Right, so Patrick being in the Edge doesn’t mean he was in the Ethereal Plains,” Andy says. He’s leaning back against Matt a little, and Matt knows he’s smirking. They all are.
“Which means Patrick wasn’t breaking any laws,” Matt adds. “Or Laws.”
“He’s still here!” Another man shouts, this time from the other side of the room. “He’s still culpable under the Writ!”
“I had no intention of returning to the Plains,” Patrick says. His voice carries loudly through the room. “My only purpose was to test the harmonics of the Edge, as was and still is my solemn duty. I am the foremost expert on Universal Harmonics.”
“He did pioneer the studies on the subject, after all,” Kyle says. Ryan nods along with him.
“It was Delinda that brought us here,” Stu says. “Tall lady, steel blue evening gown, pink energy web? We were minding our own business, she pops up, and hello migraines!”
The audience in the chamber bursts into conversation. Mostly it’s chaos, but Matt manages to hear one guy over all the rest, mostly because he stands up and starts shouting and everyone around him shuts up.
“Is this true, Maximum? Was Delinda sent to retrieve the Banished one?” The guy is a mountain of a man, eight feet tall if he was an inch, with bushy red-brown hair, and built like he could take on a space armada all on his lonesome.
Maximum blanches a little, and then pulls himself to his full height. Even sitting down, Matt can tell that Maximum is at least two feet shorter than the other man. “We had plans in place, yes.”
“Maximum Bellaras!” The larger man bellows. The entire room shudders by the force of it, and Maximum goes about three shades paler.
“Dude, it’s like a punk kid standing up to their father,” Matt whispers at Andy. “This is awesome!” Andy flaps a hand at him to shut up.
“You know the Writ!” the larger man continues. “Are you telling this attending congregation of Citizens that you, the Head of the Council, authorized plans that would not only break several sections and subsections of the Writ but would also bring the Banished one back into the fold to be sentenced to death?”
“Which would break even more sections and subsections of this Writ of theirs, I’m betting,” Matt whispers. Andy elbows him in the side, and Matt hides his giggles in Andy’s hair.
Maximum flounders for a second. “Henric, I assure you…”
“Yes, he did,” Edmond sighs. “He strong armed the entire Council thirty years after Stumph was Banished, and ordered the Edge Keepers to bring Stumph in should he ever appear. You were on your sabbatical, Henric.”
“Edmond , how dare you…!” Maximum starts.
“Oh, do shut up, Maxi,” Edmond snaps. “Between your ego and your incompetence, you’ve latched the entire Council, and anyone who attended that Council session, to Stumph’s fate. I believe you’ve done quite enough for the next three millennia.”
“I dare say he has,” Henric bellows. “Perhaps we should hold a vote over your own Banishment, Maximum.”
“Oh, for the love of all harmonies, don’t,” Patrick says. “The mortal world has treacheries enough without adding that imbecile to the mix.”
Henric considers Patrick for a moment. Then he looks at each of them in the witness box. Matt feels the urge to look away, but he just keeps his one arm wrapped around Andy’s shoulder, and gives Henric a little finger wave.
“Hrmph,” Henric says. “Then the Council has a decision to make.”
“Wait a minute,” Joe says. “You lot aren’t deciding shit until you tell us what is going on. Patrick didn’t break his ‘banishment’, you lot did. I want. We want to hear the everything.”
Pete nods. “Accusations, charges, decisions - everything.”
The entirety of the Council, aside from Edmond, looks constipated at the idea. Henric laughs, and Edmond waves a hand at Patrick. Patrick had jumped up on the wall of his little cubical and is swinging his legs back and forth.
“It’s pretty simple,” he says. “Because Edmond and the Council violated the Writ and abused their power, they are forced to drop all charges against me and against you guys. And because they pulled Outworlders into this, mortal Outworlders, no less, there are reparations to be paid.”
“Reparations?” Pete asks. Joe rolls his eyes at his gleeful expression and slaps him upside the head. When Pete gives him a hurt look, Joe just gestures at Patrick. “He can’t reach you.”
“Yes, reparations, Mr. Wentz,” Henric says. He’s taken his seat again and is leaning back against the knees of the woman behind him. She scowls and pushes at his head, but he doesn’t seem to notice it through all of his hair. “We owe you Outworlders a debt. Anything that is within our powers to grant.”
“Huh,” Joe says. “I’m not so sure I like the sounds of that. It’s probably a trap, isn’t it, Patrick?”
Patrick nods. “Yep. Totally a trap.”
“All right, first things first,” Matt says. He doesn’t like the sound of ‘trap’. “How about you lot make your official decisions, and then we’ll talk reparations.”
Edmond nods. “Of course. All charges brought against you at this time, Patrick Martin Stumph, have…”
“Actually, my name is Patrick Vaughn Stump now, Eddie,” Patrick tells him. He gives the wall underneath him an extra firm thump and grins at Edmond.
Edmond blinks, then nods again. “Right, of course. As I was saying, Patrick Martin Stumph, all charges brought against you at this time have been officially dropped. We, the Council of the Ethereal Plains, formally offer you our deepest apologizes.”
Patrick nods. “Right. Understood.”
“That said, your original sentencing still holds true,” Edmond says. “You and your companions will be sent back to your bodies, and you are not to return to the Edge or the Ethereal Plains again.”
“I really like how they felt the need to discuss all that,” Matt says. He looks over at Patrick. “They didn’t do their weird mind meld thing again, did they?”
Patrick rolls his eyes. “No, Mixon, they didn’t. There’s always a fallout plan, isn’t there, Eddie?”
“Be stupid not to have them.” Edmond shrugs. “Your answer, Stump?”
“Not good enough,” Andy answers for him. He brushes off the other’s protests. “You will send us back to our bodies. The Edge will not be taken from Patrick, and you will assure that none of your Citizens will fuck with any member of my crew - past, present or future - or their families, ever. And we make the decision for whether or not a being is included in that list. Those are our terms.”
“That isn’t possible,” the lady next to Maximum protests.
“Sure it is, Ester,” Henric says. “We already know that nothing is going to stop Stump from returning to the Edge - he is still one of the most stubborn among us - and we have no right to restrict movement to, through, and away from it. Ability, yes. Right, no.”
“Fine, Stumph can have his treks to the Edge,” Maximum snaps. “But I will not allow any Citizen to answer to a mortal, no matter how delusional it may be.”
“And I fail to see where you’re going to get the power to stop us,” Pete tells him. “I will personally lead my family and our allies into a boycott of the Ethereal Plains that will last a millennia just as a taster course.”
“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Wentz,” Henric says. “The Living Ship, Fuck City, Andy as you are known to your friends, we, the Citizens of the Ethereal Plains, agree to your reparations. I, myself, will add an addendum to the Writ to see that as it is now, it shall ever be.”
“You can’t!” Maximum isn’t the only one to protest, but he certainly is the loudest.
Patrick’s laugh is clear over the clamor. “It’s Henric. He can do anything he damn well pleases.”
Andy watches Henric closely for a full minute. Even Matt, who is probably the closest being to Andy, both physically and emotionally, out of anyone in the room, can’t decipher what is going through his mind at the moment. Matt just really hopes Andy agrees. He really wants to go back to the land of crazy and understandable.
Finally Andy nods. “We accept.”
“Excellent!” Henric throws his arms wide. “Now, say your goodbyes, children. I’m sending you home.”
Matt barely has a chance to blink before the world shifts in front of him, and then there is only black.
|-|
Part III - Part V