DISCLAIMER: Carnivale and its canon characters are the property of HBO and the show's producers; no copyright infringement is intended.
Note added 12/9/06: For a full, clear picture of my latest take on Ben's killing of Justin and the events of the next day, I'd advise reading "Dead of Night," "Choices," "Proof of Life," "Retribution," and "Ghost of a Chance," in that order.
Note added 12/23/07: I should, however, explain that "Dead of Night," "Proof of Life," and "Ghost of a Chance" are in the "Look, even something as unlikely as this isn't irreconcilable with known canon!" category of fan fiction. "Choices" and "Retribution," on the other hand, reflect my actual speculation about the direction the story probably would have taken. One detail in "Retribution" has been rendered AU by later-established canon; for the correct canon, see my more recent fanfic "Trinity."
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It's not often, Hack Scudder reflected, that a man gets to look down into what was his own grave.
He'd been sitting beside the hole in the ground all night, resolutely not training his flashlight on it. But in the harsh morning light, he had to admit it held a certain morbid fascination.
I wonder if Ben will be surprised that I've stayed here so long, waiting for him?
He tried to ignore the inner murmur that he knew was the voice of reason. The one that kept saying, Ben won't be coming back. Ben is dead. His son had expected to be dead by now, but Hack refused to believe it.
For the umpteenth time, he reread the note that had been in his hand when he woke, lying next to the grave.
Pa,
You may never read this, but if you do you may be confused. Here's what happened. Crowe killed you, and him or his goons buried you near where he done it. I dug you up.
Its my fault he was able to kill you. I didn't mean it, but I lead Stroud to you and then I couldn't catch up with him in time to save you. I'm sorry.
I aim to kill Crowe, and I'll try to use the killing to bring you back to life. It may not work, because you were dead too long or because he cut your head off or because I meant to kill him anyway. But I hope it will work. I pray it will.
If you're reading this I'll most likely be dead myself. I figure Crowe's followers will take me out soon as I kill him. Do not kill anyone else to bring me back! Killing is wrong. It's OK for me to kill Crowe because he's the usher made flesh and has to be unmade, but other wise it's a sin. So do not try to bring me back. I forbid it.
Your son,
Ben
Hack shook his head in bemusement at Ben's having blamed himself. As he saw it, all the blame was his. I brought on this crisis, when I left Lucius Belyakov's trailer without giving myself time to recover from the psychic battering I'd taken...
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He still believed Belyakov had tried to kill him that night, and almost succeeded.
Ever since Ben had joined Carnivale, Hack had believed the only reason Belyakov hadn't drained him to restore his own health - an atrocity that would have left Ben dead or horribly maimed - was that he knew Hack would avenge him. He believed Belyakov also assumed Ben wouldn't tolerate an attack on his father.
Belyakov had convinced Ben that he only wanted to see Hack in order to show him visions he'd had, which he believed would induce Hack to support them against his own Dark Prince - and if Hack agreed to give them the Prince's name, to determine, without harming him, whether he was telling the truth. He'd pointed out that even if Hack felt no loyalty to his monstrously evil Prince, he might give a false name in a misguided attempt to protect his son, by keeping him from finding and fighting his opponent. Belyakov, with his more developed powers, would be better able than Ben to distinguish fact from falsehood. And if they knew Hack had lied, Ben wouldn't have to waste time following up on the false lead.
Hack had been sure the Russian secretly planned to drain and kill him (thus restoring his own health), then immediately turn on Ben and kill him before he'd recovered from the shock of the betrayal. He'd decided to go along with what Ben wanted, and get the confrontation over with. But he'd feigned extreme timidity and helplessness, making Ben promise to protect him if he was attacked. That was a ploy to assure that the youth wouldn't be caught by surprise as Belyakov planned. He'd hoped it would be Belyakov who'd be caught by surprise, so Ben would receive a boon when he killed him.
Could Hack have bested Belyakov, if he'd unleashed his own Avataric powers the instant the Russian attacked him? Perhaps. He'd anticipated the attack; Belyakov did not, as he'd expected, have the advantage of surprise. Hack had reacted as he did to force Ben to intervene. But he thought the odds truly would have been against him, because his powers were rusty from disuse, while Belyakov had embraced his and doubtless made frequent use of them. He'd hoped to survive, to keep that demon Prince - Belyakov's son Alexei - from becoming Prophet. But what mattered most was that Ben survive, and attain his own Prophethood - hopefully, with a boon.
In the end, it had appeared Belyakov was giving Ben the boon voluntarily. Hack found that puzzling, but he assumed the man must have had a benevolent impulse in his last moments of life.
It had never occurred to him that Belyakov might have staged the fight to incite Ben to kill him.
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When Hack staggered out of that trailer, his intent had been to put as much distance as possible between himself and Ben - getting a quick start, before Ben could snap back from the shock he'd experienced and try to stop him. That had been his plan all along, assuming he survived the encounter with Belyakov. He knew the thug they'd evaded that afternoon was targeting him, didn't grasp Ben's importance. He'd wanted to protect his son by leading the thug away from him. But in his impaired state, he'd been captured; and Ben, who'd raced after them, had wound up in a fight to the death with the Usher.
Have I ever done anything right? he thought bitterly. In my entire life?
But Ben won! It was too soon, he was too young - but against all odds, he won. He must have, because his note makes clear he wouldn't have killed anyone else to restore me to life.
I can't believe that after he'd defeated the Usher, a just God would let him be killed by some ignorant mob!
But...is God just?
I've sometimes wondered whether He even exists.
Hack had convinced himself Ben was alive - and would return to the burial site, if only because the revival attempt might have failed. Surely, if that had been the case, he would have wanted to rebury his father's body.
As the night dragged on, he'd told himself Ben had left his only flashlight with him, and hadn't been able to find another. He'll come after daybreak. Just stay put, wait for him.
But the sun had been up for hours now.
He'd reached out repeatedly, trying to touch the youth's mind as he'd done so often before. He found...nothing.
The voice of reason said bluntly, He's either dead or comatose.
He refused to listen. No! He's become a Prophet - he may have learned to create psychic barriers I can't detect.
He could explain away his failure to make contact. But by now, he was being forced to acknowledge that Ben wasn't coming, and think of a reason he could live with.
Of course he isn't coming. It was foolish of me to believe he would.
He didn't restore me to life out of love for me. He did it because he felt responsible for my death. He would have done the same if the person for whose death he blamed himself was a total stranger.
He felt an obligation toward me, and he fulfilled it, by focusing on the idea of reviving me as he killed the Usher. At that point he'd done all he could. Whether I'd actually come back to life was of no concern to him, nor should it have been.
That didn't exactly jibe with Ben's note. ("I hope it will work. I pray it will.") And Hack couldn't quite picture his son leaving even a stranger's decomposing body to rot. But if he didn't let himself think too much, the explanation sufficed.
It was better than "dead or comatose."
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For the first time, he began to consider getting up and walking away.
He had no idea where he was. Having been transported while he was drugged, he didn't even know what state he was in. For that matter, the name "Crowe" would have meant nothing to him if Ben's note hadn't made clear it was an alias used by the Usher, Alexei Belyakov. If he'd been buried near where Alexei killed him, he should be fairly close to a road. But he didn't know in what direction it lay, or how close he was to built-up areas in other directions.
He didn't know how long he'd been dead. But any decomposition had been reversed, and his once-severed head was as firmly attached as ever. His probing fingers had found a scar that circled his neck, but there was no pain. And if Alexei had received "all his knowledge and power" via a taken-by-surprise boon, it must have been a copying rather than a draining; either that, or Alexei's own death had reversed it. He felt like his old self.
If I leave here, where should I go?
His life had been restored, but it no longer had a purpose. For the last decade, he'd clung to that life solely to deny Alexei the powers of a Prophet, and to protect Ben - to whatever extent he could - from both Belyakovs, father and son. Now he was adrift and rudderless.
Or maybe not.
He looked down at the note he still held in his hands. Lovingly ran a finger over it, tracing some of the letters.
My only child's handwriting. I'm seeing it for the first time. And he's nineteen years old!
He took a deep, shuddering breath.
I do have one purpose left in life. I've just been refusing to face it.
I have to stop lying to myself about Ben, and find out what's happened to him. Whether he's alive or dead.
His eyes misted over as he reread the last sentences of the note.
"Do not kill anyone else to bring me back! Killing is wrong. It's OK for me to kill Crowe because he's the usher made flesh and has to be unmade, but other wise it's a sin. So do not try to bring me back. I forbid it."
No, if he's gone, I can't bring him back. I can't go against a wish - a command - as clear as this.
Given his belief about killing, I can't even avenge him.
But maybe, if he hasn't ascended to Heaven, I can assure him a decent burial.
And maybe, just maybe, I really will find him alive, and not too grown-up to need a father.
He wasn't deluding himself that it would be easy. He'd have to make his way to wherever Ben had fought Alexei; and if Alexei's loyalists still controlled the area, he might accomplish nothing more than getting himself killed. Again.
But he had to try.
He tucked the precious note in the least grimy of his pockets. Then he got to his feet, and reluctantly - as always - summoned up an Avatar's most distinctive power. Closing his eyes, shutting out all distractions, he turned in a slow circle as he let himself feel, rather than hear, a faint, insectile buzzing. It typically led the Avatar to something of interest - but not always what he would have chosen.
He picked the direction indicated by the buzzing, and started to hike.
By the time he broke through a thicket onto the unpleasantly familiar road, he had a new problem to worry about.
