Chapter Seventeen: Disharmonious
Late Spring, Pantocyclus Palace, A Few Days Later
In his mind, he was screaming.
In reality, he couldn't. Not here. He didn't have the luxury of running to a safe place and screaming his apex off until he was so hoarse he couldn't make a sound.
He couldn't cry anymore.
In those first awful days, he'd cried, he drank, he sat in the chair, staring unseeing into the garden until a servant finally poked him to see if he were still alive.
It woke him up, in more ways than one.
Alistair wouldn't want him to fall into grief, to wallow in his misery and despair.
He still had a job to do.
Alistair wasn't Cipher, Bill was. And Cipher needed to get back to work.
I'm not gonna give up, Alistair. I-I'm sorry, I just got...
Staring out that window, Bill's brain whirled, running hard and fast. His grief was his best defense. The servants would continue to report that Bill was desolate in despair, drinking himself into a stupor every night. If he had to, he'd dump the booze down the drain just to keep up the pretence.
His top priority right now, was to get in contact with his people in the Palace. He needed to find his parents. He needed to find out if Cyran was alright, if Tveir and the Kendricks were still alive, if the village, Dan, Nancy, Theus, everyone were alright. He didn't have much hope left, not after losing Alistair, not after seeing the empty Prefecture boxes in the Circle Council but he had to have hope. Even a little bit.
Without hope, he might as well just drown himself in the alcohol and be done with it.
At least I'd be with Alistair.
He buried his eye in his hands, hunching over in the chair.
The tears did come then. Quiet, gut-wrenching tears that slid down his Shape and to the floor.
The Next Day
"Sir? Hey, hello? Sir?"
Bill ignored the woman, staring out the window.
"I'm a nurse. They sent me to assess your health. Sir? You've been drinking unhealthily for several days and the Chief Circle is concerned-"
"He can go to- hiccup- hell."
The nurse sighed. "You can feel free to speak with me, sir."
Bill grumbled and grudgingly looked over at her.
The Line considered him quietly a moment, then, adjusting her glasses, reached into the medical bag she carried and produced a thermometer. She leaned toward him, taking his temperature.
"I don't feel free," he said carefully, "a person doesn't feel free when they know they're being watched."
"I understand that," she said, noting the information on a clipboard and reaching back into her bag. When she stood back up, she held a stethoscope which she used to listen to his heartbeat. "However, what they think they're seeing is not what's going on here." Her eye curved into a very slight smile. "It's nice to see you again, Cipher."
Bill blinked and stared at her. "Rose? Rose Evergreen?"
"Yes. After... uh... the Trial, Tvier asked for volunteers to help you." She swallowed hard. "Everyone wanted to go but I was the first who offered. We couldn't risk losing Daniel or Nancy or..." Her gaze dropped. "Theus. I... Bill. There wasn't hardly anyone else left. Varien and Risa... Cyran, Bill... I-I'm so sorry... there's not much left anymore."
Bill stared.
"No... No... Varien and Risa... they were, they-they... no!"
"The day Alistair was executed, they came. Bombed the house with them inside. Then they turned on the villages."
"But nobody knew about Cyran!"
"They did it because they wanted to send a message. They destroyed the Kendricks because they were Alistair's family. And the Prefecture because it was your home. Tveir says that was a double message. One to the rest of the country and one to you."
"So I wouldn't have a home to go back to," Bill breathed. "He punished you to punish me. That's how petty he is." He took a deep breath. "D-do you think they know? A-about the rebellion in Cyran?"
"No," Rose said softly. "Tveir has been extremely careful. The rebellion is still alive, Bill. We're still working, we're still fighting. We knew you needed help. What you didn't know, which was why it's taken so long to get to you, was that those of ours who were here before they brought you in had been taken. It happened so fast, we don't even really know why. Nobody could help you at first." She looked at something in her bag. "We don't have much time. The decoy video is only fifteen minutes. Longer than that and they might suspect something's wrong." She showed him a small transistor radio that was a duplicate of the one on the bedside table, which she swiped and tucked in her medical bag. "This will disrupt the cameras for about fifteen seconds at a time. Enough that it will look like generic interference but not enough to attract attention. It's also got a signal interrupter that will disable the door locks if you need. Inside the battery compartment are some useful toys. You'll know what to do with them. You can figure out the rest of what my little radio can do on your own." Her eye smiled. "Trust me, you'll like it."
Bill offered a tired smile back. "Thank you, Rose."
"I know what you're planning to do," she said quietly, putting her medical things away. "I'll do everything in my power to ensure you are able to complete your mission." She leaned towards him and kissed his apex. "I'll come back soon, tomorrow if I can arrange it. The decoy video just shows me giving you a medical exam with you here in the chair."
"How?"
"I'm clever, Cipher," she said. "I'm a scientist, you know." She winked. "Just like you, I like to know things." She moved back into the same position she was earlier. "Remember Arthur Square," she murmured, glancing into her bag again. "In three, two..."
Bill slumped again into his chair as she counted down.
"Alright, sir," Rose said, her voice professional once again, "I guess I'll just have to come back tomorrow."
"Don't knock yerself out," Bill slurred.
"My advice, stop drinking."
"Sure."
Shaking her top segment, Rose picked up her bag and let herself out.
Bill pushed himself heavily out of the chair and stumbled over to the bed, 'accidentally' bumping the radio Rose had replaced. It made a very low staticy sound. Sitting on the bed, he grumbled drunkenly and picked the radio up. Pressing the power button, he waited to see what it would do. Staticy classical music began to play from the Capital radio station. A small green light blinked on the back of the thing, then went steady. Hmm. He waited and after about fifteen seconds, it blinked off. Okay. So that was the interrupt.
He lay back on the bed, clutching the radio to his chest with a whimper, a groan and a sniffle, like a good little drunk.
Closing his eye, he tried to deal with all the information he'd just been given. He-he couldn't let the staggering losses affect him. Not right now. He had to focus, to take what he knew, what people were doing to help him and use it. He couldn't continue to exist in this limbo forever. He knew Vyraius would call for him, he knew that this respite he'd been allowed was only the Chief's way of torturing him further, without laying a hand on him. Yet.
Rose hadn't mentioned his parents. That might be because she actually didn't know where they were or that they were dead and she didn't want to burden him with further misery. He didn't think she was the type to sugar-coat the truth, so he was going to go on the assumption that they were alive. He needed to make sure that no matter what happened to him in the next days, his parents were protected and safe. He couldn't lose anyone else.
He whimpered again, only this time it was real. Sorrow welled up inside him.
Varien and Risa were blameless, truly innocent bystanders in this hideous war and Cerchio wiped them out with a word. Just as he had Alistair.
As he had the Prefectures and their innocent people.
Just because they knew or were the home of rebels.
Was it worth it? How many people were left? In the Prefectures? Were there only a few, like Cyran? Or were they now desolate wastelands where the only living things were scavengers, picking the frames of the dead?
I never meant for this to happen!
He sobbed softly.
I-it's my fault... I-I'm the one who caused this... all those people, dead because I wanted to be something more than I was...
Maybe Cerchio was right. Maybe he was a selfish weakling.
The thought echoed in his brain, growing louder and louder until it was a deafening scream.
Weak... Selfish... Powerless... It's your fault, Bill! ALL YOUR FAULT!
"No... no... no..." He sobbed, curling up in his bed, hugging the radio hard. "No... no... I'm not... I-"
The radio made that same clicking sound and the music went silent. Gulping, he looked down. The little green light was on.
Fifteen seconds of freedom.
Fifteen seconds.
Coughing, his fingers found the battery compartment and opened it before his brain really registered what he was doing. Inside was a vial of some kind of liquid, another electronic component, a compact, fold up knife...
The green light went out and Bill rolled on top of the radio, laying there. His brain was clearer now but the angry, vicious voices were still echoing.
If it were your fault, if you were just being selfish, why would all of these people risk their lives to help you, Bill?
Under his frame, he managed to clip the battery compartment's lid back on the radio. Carefully, he rolled back over, trying not to trigger the interrupt again. It was too useful to toy with.
He set the radio back on the table and closed his eye, feigning sleep. He tried to quiet the echoing in his brain but it was hard. Without even Alistair's occasional telepathic contact, he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep himself focused.
'Call on me and I will answer.' What did that mean? How can I call on him when he's... g-gone? He fought down a sniffle as he wrapped his arms around himself and hugged, imagining it was Alistair. I-I... I can't...
Yes. You can.
He wasn't sure if it was his imagination or not and he didn't care.
Yes, you can, Bill. You can do this. You've been doing it. You're Cipher! Bill... Cipher... BILL CIPHER... and BILL CIPHER can do ANYTHING HE WANTS!
The voice in his head wasn't Alistair's, it didn't even sound like Bill's own.
It was higher. It was sharp, loud, supremely confident... crazier, yet...
It was completely, perfectly his.
That Evening
"William Sifras, you have been summoned to attend the Chief this evening in his residence."
Bill blinked sleepily, opening his eyes to the Palace Guard, standing next to his bed, yet again.
"Let me guess, 'now'."
"Yes. Arise and dress and be quick about it."
He sighed deeply. At least this time he had a chance to wash his upper angle and splash water over his aching eye. 'Dress' probably meant putting on one of those god-awful jackets that were in his closet. "Fine. Give me a few minutes at least."
He got up and headed into the bathroom, kicking the door closed in the Isosceles' eye as he did so. The towel still hung over the camera, so that was a small mercy. He washed and went into the closet, picking the least disgusting of the jackets he'd been provided with, a gray and black brocade that would actually have been kind of elegant if the brocade was done in a smaller thread and the designs were less gaudy. Quickly, he padded over to his knapsack, extracted the knife he'd brought and tucked it into the coat's inside pocket. It was a touch heavy but when he buttoned the jacket, you couldn't tell. It was why he'd picked that knife in particular. It was flat, sharp and small.
Not that he expected to use it, not yet but it was a comfort. Just in case.
He opened the door and confronted a seething Isosceles. "I'm ready," he said.
"Come on, you," the guard snapped, pushing Bill towards the door.
Outside there were two other Palace Guards, who all escorted Bill through the Palace to the Royal suite. They left him in the Chief's sitting room, an overdecorated, blindingly white, gaudy space full of chunky antique furniture, with pretentious portraits of Vyraius on every wall and a large, fully stocked bar in the corner. A gigantic, almost throne-like silver and white chair sat next to the massive marble fireplace, which was already quite bright and had been burning for a while.
Bill grumbled to himself, sitting down in one of the smaller chairs closest to the door, folding his hands in his lap.
"Well, well, well... don't we look elegant tonight?"
Bill cringed. He didn't even bother to disguise his reaction as Vyraius swept into the room, dressed, as always, in sparkling white and silver, this time a tailored smoking jacket. He held a glass of wine, which he sipped as he settled into the large chair next to the fireplace. A servant followed the monarch into the room, taking a position at the bar in the corner of the room.
"What would you like, Billy?" Vyraius said conversationally, as though there were no hostility between them. "Wine, mixed drink? Though from what I have been told, perhaps coffee or tea would be healthier for you."
"Why would you care about my health?" Bill said acidly, "you don't care about my feelings."
"If you die on me then all this effort is wasted," Vyraius said with a shrug. "Bring him coffee," he said to the servant.
"Yes, your Majesty."
"What do you want from me?" Bill said even though he knew the answer.
"A nice, romantic evening. That's all."
"Romantic? Like the last time? When you tried to take advantage of me even after I told you no?" Bill snapped, taking the cup from the servant, who bowed to Vyraius and left. He looked into the cup. It smelled rich and delicious, just like coffee but Bill wasn't about to drink it. He wondered if he could dump the contents into a potted plant or one of the myriad decorations in the room when Vyraius wasn't looking.
"Awww, that was fun, wasn't it?"
"Not for me."
"You'll learn," Vyraius said with a snicker. "You'll enjoy it. Trust me. I'm quite good."
"Is that what all your slaves tell you?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. My wife and my courtesans as well. I'm not boasting. Just being truthful."
"I'm not interested."
"Awww, you're still hurt about that little tribunal, aren't you?"
Bill coughed. "Yeah! Just a bit!" he snapped. "Besides the fact that you punched me, ordered your men to beat me, you killed my fiancé!"
"I didn't kill him. He was executed." Vyraius said dismissively with a wave of his hand. "I didn't have a choice. He was a criminal and admitted his guilt."
Bill growled under his breath and swept the room with his eye. It wasn't going to help matters to argue with the man. He needed information and he needed to get it from Vyraius, any way he could.
He swallowed hard. Any way.
"Look, you know and I know what you did," he began stiffly, "and we both know how I feel about it and you. And I know that you're the one with the power here. Doesn't mean I won't continue to fight you, 'cause I hate you and I want out of here. However, you have somethin' I want to keep safe."
"Oh?" Vyraius said, taking a long sip of his wine, drawing the pause out as long as he could. Bill took that opportunity, while the Circle's eye-mouth was occupied, to dump the coffee into a decorative pot next to his chair. "What could I possibly have of yours? I think I took care of that bothersome lover."
When the Circle spoke again, Bill pretended to be drinking his coffee.
"My parents," he said simply, refusing to play Vyraius' game.
"Oh yes, those sweet old people. I'd forgotten about them."
"I'm sure you did."
"Well, yes. There is that, isn't there? How is the coffee, Billy? It's the best in the country. I won't settle for anything less."
"Excellent," Bill said quietly, forcing himself to stay in character. "My parents. I-I want to see them. I-I want to make sure they're still alright."
"Hmm... well... that might be difficult," Vyraius said airily. "You see, they're not here."
Bill gulped hard, gritting his teeth behind his eye. He closed the eye and took a deep breath fighting down his fury, his fear.
"Where are they?" he bit out, opening his eye and glaring at the Circle.
"At my wife's home. They're her guests. She's taking good care of them."
"What are they doing there?"
"Oh, my dear boy, they're her servants! She adores them!"
Bill's eye went wide. "Servants?"
"Of course, what else was I going to do with them? They couldn't just live here, sponging off me!" Vyraius chuckled, a slight slur in his voice, "I had an idea, so I sent them to Empress Desa. She loves them! And they're living somewhere much more pleasant that some little cell in my prison!"
"P-prison?"
Stay calm, Bill... he's getting drunk... you can use this! Don't let your emotions get in the way! Remember, you're the one with the power. Not him.
"Well, sure, they didn't like it there, so..."
"Of course they didn't!" Bill snapped, watching him. He swallowed hard and fought to keep his emotions in check. Emotions were good, he could use them to let Vyraius think he was drugged and agitated but he couldn't let them derail his critical thinking. He had to stay in control. He was Bill Cipher, he was powerful. He had to use the power he was being given here. Use it against Vyraius. "I wanna see them!" He hiccuped, blinking, making sure Vyraius saw him do it.
"Awww, awww... B-Billy, don't be like that!"
"I want to see them, or I won't... I-I won't do anything-"
"You will, whether you see them or not, Billy."
"Stop calling me 'Billy'!" Bill snarled, thinking. "I don't believe you. You could have killed them for all I know."
"I don't kill old folks."
"And they're not 'old'!" Bill snapped, wobbling a little, rubbing his eye, "t-they're the same age a-as you are." He looked into his coffee cup. "Th-this tastes funny." He blinked, blearily looking at Vyraius. "Why?"
"You just have no appreciation of good coffee."
"Tell me the truth, Vyraius," Bill said softly, swallowing hard. "Are my parents alive? You have no reason to lie. I'm your prisoner... a-an' I can't escape, can I?"
"Hmm," the Circle said, weaving a little in his chair himself. "That-that's true, isn't it? You are my prisoner. And you can't escape no matter what I tell you. Be they alive or dead, you can't stop me from doing exactly what I want." He chuckled. "Nobody can stop me. Not you, not my own people, not the Circle Council, not those damned revolutionaries, no one!"
I CAN, that voice, that slightly deranged, high-pitched tenor whispered in Bill's mind, I WILL.
"Vyraius," Bill said softly, standing, "tell me. Tell me the truth."
The Circle looked up at him. "And if I do?"
"I'll do everything you want me to," Bill purred, "just tell me."
"Oh you will?" Vyraius looked pleased, as though he was sure all his plans were about to come to fruition. "Everything, eh?"
Bill's eye smiled. A sense of supreme calm filled him. It was as if the voice, the strange confidence of it, had quieted all of his anger and confusion. "Of course, I will. Just tell me the truth."
YES, YES HE WILL... THEN HE WILL DIE...
Bill reached out and ran a finger over the Circle's side. He didn't even feel disgust at the action, only a steely coldness. He would do what he had to to find out the truth and if it meant making Vyraius think he'd have sex with him, he'd do it.
HE WON'T TOUCH ME. HE WON'T GET THAT FAR.
"Aww, Billy, I knew you'd come around," Vyraius said, smiling, trailing his own fingers over Bill's hand. "Well, since you're being so nice... I knew that coffee would help you relax..." He gave a small laugh. "It's very good and it has a very special blend that always works."
So he did drug it. Bastard.
"Mmhmm," Bill murmured, a growing dark realization prompting his next words, "Tell me the truth about my parents. They're dead, aren't they?"
"Well, that's the thing, Billy-" Vyraius said, turning slightly to look into the fire, "-they didn't really last very long here, after the incident, you see."
Bill was cold. Ice cold. He didn't, couldn't feel anything.
DON'T LOSE FOCUS.
"Explain."
"We got them here and they were miserable. In the prison, working every day in the kitchen, taking care of the prisoners... It was a kindness, Bill. After your mother tried to break Alistair out and your father attempted to poison me, well... I couldn't let them live after that."
"Poison you?"
"He conspired with the rebellion that had infiltrated my Palace to sneak poison into my wine... so everyone had to die. All of those horrible, horrible rebels. Your parents were part of it, didn't you know? You really are a ignorant little moron, aren't you?"
In a way it was good that he couldn't feel anything at the moment, Bill thought absently. Otherwise he would have been screaming and bashing the Circle against the fireplace until every stupid infinite angle was shattered. He reached inside his jacket, while Vyraius was staring into the fireplace.
"As you say," Bill murmured, keeping the same quiet, drugged attitude so as not to alert the man. He drew the knife, his fingers tightening around the handle. "You're right, of course. Quite right. I'm inadequate. Disharmonious. I'm truly grateful to you, sir. Truly, truly grateful."
"Now you're making sense, Billy," Vyraius said. "You see why I had to do it."
"YES," Bill hissed, his voice taking on that sharp, dangerous tone.
Vyraius stiffened.
Bill plunged the knife into the Shape's exposed back.
The Circle screamed, twisted in his chair, staring at Bill in dumbfounded shock as he struggled, shoving Bill back, away from him.
"GUARDS!"
Bill stumbled, still clutching the knife, staring back at Vyraius, in shock himself. The voice in his head, however, was laughing. A sharp, shrieking, maniacal laugh that threatened to spill from his mind into his body.
The doors flew open at Vyraius' scream and the Palace Guard was on top of Bill before he could make another move on the Chief.
"He tried to kill me!" Vyraius screeched.
"You're the idiot who turned your back on a man who HATES you!" Bill snarled back in the same almost hysterical voice as he struggled against the Palace Guards who were restraining him. "You tried to drug me, you MURDERED my parents and my friends and my lover and you destroyed my home! YOU DESERVE TO DIE, VYRAIUS CERCHIO."
Bleeding, whimpering in pain as his servants were attempting to treat his wound, Vyraius' eye widened. He glared back at Bill.
"You... no! N-not you, not my little Billy, it-it can't be! You-you're-CIPHER!"
A shrill, high-pitched, insane laugher filled the chamber and it took a moment for Bill to realize it was coming from him. "WELL, WELL, WELL! Give the man a cigar! TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH, YOU FOOL!"
"Throw him in Kendrick's cell!" Cerchio bellowed in pain and fury, "Make him pay for what he's done here tonight, for what he's done to this country, to his people! Torture him, break him, I don't care! PUNISH HIM! MAKE HIM SCREAM!"
Bill could do nothing but shriek that grating, high-pitched crazy laugh as they dragged him from the Chief's apartments and down into the prison, Vyraius' screams and curses following him the entire way.