Chapter 1.9: The Last Peace
Day 1, 10:24 AM
"Top Tree!" Too cries, nearly taking flight as he rushes the last few yards. "TOP TREEEE!"
With a scream he leaps over the finish line, taking third place. Skidd pounds his knee as he comes in fourth soon after. "Bogus, man! I knew I should've worn my lucky jockstrap."
Teddy glides in, throwing his fists up. "First, baby! Ha ha ha!" He looks at the board, then drops his jaw. "...FIFTH!? No stinkin' way!"
"Delusion's a strong drug!" Crootch says.
Ravenda comes in sixth, keeping his head down and stopping a little farther away from the rest of us.
"Noinah!" Buz calls. "Come on, you got it!"
The old Tyhrranoid is huffing as she finishes the last stretch. "I'm finished! I'm out!" Noinah gasps, two of her eyes drooping. "Shit, I'm in my eighties, don't make me explain myself."
"Ah, is good, very good still!" Wun says warmly, applauding her. "You keep up very well...and now at least Wun knows for sure he is not the oldest!"
"You're not that far behind me," Noinah laughs, then begins wheezing.
"Whoa, are you really okay?" Too asks, concerned. "That cough sounds..."
"Nah, nah...I'm fine. Just give me a moment." She sits down, threading her fingers behind her head. "Aghh. What I can't wait for now is a cold drink and a good smoke..."
Buz grunts in displeasure.
"Everyone still alive and good?" Dallas asks, leaning too far forward on his platform. It flips upside down and he holds onto the railings, suspended some fifty feet in the air. "Whoops, ha ha! Let's see how the hammer's hanging on the board!"
"Good news and bad news," Lia says. "Let's start with the good, then dash your hopes with the pain of reality!"
"I CAN'T TAKE IT!" Qwark cries. "Ratchet, hold me!"
I hold out my arms, sidestepping when he tries jumping into them. He nearly causes an earthquake when he hits the ground.
"Let's look at how each team placed and the points they earned!" Dallas says. "Team Nanner got the gold and twenty extra gleaming points, leaving them with a total of 95.5 points! Team Cruise comes in second with their boosted score of 115.8 points, and Team Twinkle, the brothers of bronze, finished with a score of 56.3 points!"
"In fourth place is Skidd, just amazing!" Lia says. "His undeducted score is 85.1 points!"
"Yeeeah, babe—wait, undeducted?" Skidd asks, confused.
"You fell, Skiddster," I say, punching his arm.
"Yep! Hence there being good and bad news," Lia says. "It's like getting paid and having taxes taken out...you know the struggle."
"What a joke, like she would," Teddy's wise to speak as quietly as he possibly can. "Can't tell me she's not a one percenter..."
"To continue, Team Krash finished fifth, adding thirteen points to their previous score and ending up with 38 points. In sixth is Ravenda, a bit rough around the edges with an undeducted score of 96.7! Then finally, Team Flatline...well, there's been better days...59.7 points for you."
"Now for the unsavory part for you competitors! Deductions!" Dallas says, swinging on his podium like it's a monkey bar. He flips it and himself upright, straightening his tie. "...don't snipe the messenger, guys and gals, I haven't written my will yet. Both Team Nanner and Team Cruise finished with their flat scores with no deductions. Teams Twinkle and Double D both have a ten point deduction from their total score. Teams Krash and Rex were hit with a double whammy of a deduction, losing twenty points from their scores! And poor Team Flatline, suffering from three penalties, lost thirty points total..."
"All me," Noinah says. "I did awful."
"I'm tired of all this math, Dallas, the final scores and standings for today are set!" Lia says. "We've got Team Cruise in first with 115.8 points, Team Nanner in second with 95.5 points, Team Rex in third with 76.7 points, but he'd better watch out..."
"And better not pout, 'cause Skidd McMarxx is right on his tail in fourth place with 75.1 points!" Dallas shouts, pounding the railings with a palm. "Team Twinkle stands in fifth with 46.3 points, Flatline in sixth with a total of 29.7 points, and Team Krash is dead last with 18 points...c'est la vie!"
"Is he making fun of us?" Crootch asks.
Clank chuckles. "Moreso stating the obvious."
"But, wow! I almost can't believe the passion and the efforts shown here, people, just from this morning!" Lia cries out to the crowd, which is becoming riled again. "We're not even close to being halfway done and the Sunrise Block already set certain expectations!"
"Watch out, Ophelia!" Dallas says. "You might give future competitors a reason to go crazy! And because of certain restrictions, I can only say that as long as there's no eliminating the competition, all's fair in love and war...unless you love to wage war against the established order! In that case—"
Lia flies in, punching him out. Dallas falls and lands on his face. "...they wouldn't be able to bear the agony of the truth, would they?" he groans.
"Everyone, let's give a BIG round of applause for the inauguration block of the Big DEE sporting eveeeents!" Lia screams, causing the stadium to nearly collapse in on itself from the noise.
"Ah!" Wun winces, and like the rest of us covering his ears. "Is lovely, being so loved!"
Skrunch chatters in agitation, adamant on the fact that it was shallow love at best and real love came from within. He's a very introspective individual.
"Alright...alright, people..." Lia says, sounding breathless. "Talk about the thrills of many wills! We're going to pause the events for a moment and give our first group of champions a well needed break. In about an hour's time, the next group will take the stage. So be back here, and be ready...competitor, civilian, or fanatics alike!"
Dallas pops up to his feet, flicking two fingers from his temple. "See ya!"
From there, we're warped from the field to the outside foyer that's for competitors only. There's an entrance in front of us and the the noise from the crowd still swells through heavily. Skidd grunts, stretching his back out.
"Done, dudes. I need a shower, like stat," he says. "I've got places to be."
"Halls to the locker rooms are over yonder," Buz says, pointing. "Ah...the ones on the left are for girls," she adds sharply to Crootch, who grumbles but alters his path.
I sit down slowly, groaning a bit. "Ah...maybe that was a bit tough for me."
"Yes, I see, for you to admit it," Clank says. "I will go get the doctor."
"He don't need a doctor," Noinah says.
"Beat me to it," I say lazily, bumping fists with her. "I'm not going any farther than the locker room, then it's to the concession stand, Clank."
Clank sighs, throwing a hand up. "Oh, alright…"
Wun's bellow makes us all jump. "TOO! What is this!?"
The Thugs have taken their helmets off. Thing Tree is sitting on her younger brother's head.
"What have you DONE, you crazy!?" Wun picks Tree up, looking over her. "All that banging and crashing and such! If she has half a scratch..."
"I…I'm sorry, she just wanted to go so I…I thought I could have her wit' me!" Too cries. "I was extra careful! Look, she doesn't even look hurt or scared!"
Tree pants contently, wall-eyed as usual. I can be imagining it but she does seem happy.
"She looks like she had a damn good time, even if she couldn't see none of it," Noinah says, chuckling. "She might end up being the daredevil of your family, Wun."
Wun just shakes his head. "Too…do NOT bring her again! Not while we compete! Keep her in room 'till we become DONE, we have the whole day ahead of us to spend time with sister, damn, damn, damn it!"
"Okay, okay bro. I'm sorry," Too says, twiddling his thumbs in shame. "I know that was really stupid..."
Wun holds his head, sighing heavily. "I need shower, too!"
"We can't share the same one," Skidd says distractedly, then backtracks quickly. "Uh, I mean...look, I got knocked over the head too many times...I'll just...go. Hey, but look around you, everyone! Looks like Rover couldn't stand to stick around! I think the guy might be a little intimidated he's so close to fourth!"
Ravenda has vanished. He's the only one I haven't seen ever since we arrived here.
"Did he even come with us?" Wun wonders.
"Oh, who cares!" Qwark says loudly, pulling his helmet off. "No one's responsible for someone else's welfare."
"For real?" I deadpan.
"Ah, hell. When a member of the event staff says crap like that..." Noinah grunts, getting halfway off the floor. "I sat for too long...help me out, Sugar."
I give her a hand up. One of her eyes goes over my shoulder.
"Thanks...and hey, Doc's made it here."
Dr. Quasar has appeared at the entrance to the stands, nothing more than a silhouette beckoning me. The motion is simple but somehow carries an implication that I have no choice to obey.
"I think she'd take me dead or alive," I mutter to Clank, who looks smug.
"Ah ha," he mocks. I stick my tongue out at him and follow her out. We go up the row of stands reserved for competitors only, all the way to the top.
"We're heading to the Director's Box?" I ask.
"It's where my temp clinic is. Or corner, really."
Wade is at the entrance, staring intently at the ground. He mutters something into his antennae, giving us a brief nod before standing aside. Inside, The Director is inside speaking to Kodiak, who to my delight appears to be in a rotten mood. Guzman looks over, then beams as he gets out of his seat.
"That was beautiful, Ratchet!" he says, holding his arms out. "You're such a natural!"
"Aw, I wasn't the only one out there," I say, suddenly interested in the coffee maker in the corner. When I look back he's stooping, gathering me up in a hug. Not like one of Qwark's, but firm and gentle.
Kodiak is scowling right into my eyes. I stare at him with a grin, hugging Guzman back, and he fumes even harder.
"Heh heh heh," I utter, as Guzman and I pull apart. "Told you it didn't take much for me to get into the swing of things."
"Getting in the swing, indeed. I couldn't even tell you were offset by last night," Guzman says. He's blushing slightly, looking faintly disturbed. "S-Speaking of which, there was something about that..."
Dr. Quasar taps her cane twice on the ground impatiently.
"Oh...oh, right. Sorry, Lucy," Guzman still looks a bit hesitant but steps out of the way. Dr. Quasar points to the table in the corner, the only other thing there besides a chair for her. I carefully hop up on the table, letting my legs hang over the edge.
"Alright," says Dr. Quasar. "You got a good enough ding, son, that's why I called you back. I've got a question."
"What's up, doc?"
"Mind working with me for an extra bit? I've never had one of your kind as a patient," she says. "I like loading myself with information on all kinds of species, and I'm afraid I don't know anything discerning about Lombaxes."
"Oh, that all? Sure, I can do that." I say, draping my arm over a knee. "Got any sugary snacks in here?"
"I won't take too long. We're only here for a little over a week, but you come off as someone who gets roughed up a lot."
"Hey, just because it's the second time in two days doesn't mean it'll happen again," I say with a straight face. She holds her thumb and pointer finger towards my side, almost like she's cross referencing that specific area for her artificial eye to scan.
"See any little gray aliens?" I ask, holding back a yawn.
"Nothing's dislocated as figured."
"For sure, but it'll be sore there for a hot minute."
"If there wasn't a doctor here, it'd be. Still haven't gotten my Nanotech reserves filled...bit of a shame. This morning I had to look to a clumsy fellow who took a fall...thankfully he only got skinned up. Hopefully no one suffers a mortal wound in the meanwhile..."
"If it's anyone to who'd suffer that sort of injury, it'd be THAT guy," Kodiak says.
"Agreed, a thousand times over," Dr. Quasar beckons a drawer underneath the table open. A wave of chilling mist spills from it. Kodiak laughs.
"Kinda funny you mention the klutz, actually," he adds.
The Director glares at him. "Don!"
"What's...OOH!" I jolt when the Dr. slaps an ice pack to my hip. After a moment I melt on the spot, sighing.
"This'll last you for several hours...let me...make sure it's strapped up right…alright, now. What about these scratches on your arm, or should I continue?"
"You can go on ahead with the impromptu checkup, doc."
Her mechanical left hand retracts, then is replaced with the head of a stethoscope. She holds it to my chest.
"Resting heart rate is a bit high compared to most organics I've seen…is that natural for your kind?"
"Ah, I'm unsure…and I don't exactly have a present or living reference on call," I say lightly. "Isn't it a bit soon to be looking for that?"
"Not if you're young and healthy and bounce back from wild feats like that. You're not even breathing hard anymore. In and out for me…"
She moves the head about, occasionally pausing and muttering to herself.
"Respiration fair...passages unobstructed…and then body mass index, as determined from medical records…you're around ninety nine pounds and then some, right?"
"I haven't eaten in awhile, so I'm probably at ninety or something," I say.
"Real funny, you are," she says humorously, and I crack up. "Alright, your vitals next. I'm trying to get a feel of where they are, and it's hard. I've seen needles thicker than you. At least you're not an enigma like I imagine Thing Too being…"
I'm perfectly fine until up to the moment where the doctor moves the stethoscope across my stomach. She glances up when she feels me tense. "Does that hurt?" she asks.
"Nope." My voice breaks a bit.
Dr. Quasar thankfully catches on quick and speaks quieter. "You're laughing…son, you're that ticklish there?"
"…you're the third to know after my girlfriend and partner," I speak lowly as I can, still paranoid out of my mind about this one ridiculous admittance. "Please don't let that number increase, doc…"
"Trust me on this as a person, not a doctor. I'm a fairly good secret keeper. As long as you don't get on my bad side."
"What's that side like, then?"
"Not anything I see you being a part of. Unlike the Grunthor in the room."
She smiles, steadily, and it's sinister on her scarred and partly roboticized face. Dr. Quasar stays idle a few moments more, likely to keep an air of normalcy, then leans back and speaks regularly. "Nice. So…anything else I could maybe know? I bet your metabolism's quick as a whip…eat a lot?"
"Yes and yes. Look, I live with Clank. Once you live with someone who cooks like him, no food goes wasted."
She gets more hands on, touching and feeling the weight of my ears, playing around with the thickness of my tail. I'm fine with being felt up by the good doctor given her reasons, but it becomes slightly intrusive with the other two in the room watching. And anyway, did Kodiak really need much of a reason to weaponize any information he had about me?
"No tonsils, huh?" Dr. Quasar asks, shining her light down my gullet. "Might as well put that down, too."
"Data's data," I agree. She reaches into her back pocket.
"Very valuable, every last bit of it. You're good to go. Thank you for holding out for me," she says, handing me a lollipop. Ooh, spicy ranch flavor!
"Hey, thanks, doc!" I shove it in my mouth, then hop off the table.
"Ratchet, wait," Guzman says. He looks bothered. "You mentioned you saw Lucy before...did I hear that?"
I stop short, slightly puzzled.
Then I do a double take, staring over at Wade since he's suddenly in the room with us. He speaks up, "You got hurt before the events even started? Can you tell us what happened?"
Wait, say what? I'd thought Guzman had been the one to send the doctor after me yesterday. Maybe Lia had? More importantly, I can't exactly answer their questions. Dr. Quasar comes to my rescue.
"He slammed his tail in the door yesterday. I just did a recursive check minutes ago," she says.
Wade and Guzman glance at each other, unsure.
"If you don't get the importance…tailed creatures need them for balance," Dr. Quasar adds, raising her hand to draw the door open for me. "If he hadn't seen me then, you wouldn't have seen much of anything from him today, Guzman."
"Well…okay, then. Just checking," Guzman says.
Kodiak is staring at the wall with the slightest of frowns. I'm not sure what he's looking so guilty about.
"What took you so long?" Clank asks when I walk into the locker room.
"Just playing doctor, Rated E for everyone."
"What?"
I pat him on the head. "Don't worry your little tin dome about it. Mind me while I hop in the shower...agh, wait, I gotta go and get something to wear first."
"I already put some of your clothes in our locker yesterday."
I stare at him, slowly pulling the stick out of my mouth.
"...Ratchet, why are you looking at me like that?"
"No particular reason," I say, flicking the stick into the trash. "I just don't want you to see anything you aren't supposed to."
"Were you thinking I would take a shower with you?"
"No, I...oh, nothing!"
He squints suspiciously. I was nervous about him finding what I'd hidden in my dresser, but he certainly would've said something if he'd discovered it. Dang it, I just sold myself out! Whenever I got back to our suite I'd have to find a new place to hide...THAT.
Some minutes later, I'm a lot more refreshed, walking out of the locker room wearing casual clothes. I was in the mood for shorts and a t-shirt, but it feels like something is missing. I have my ice pack on…
Clank runs out after me, crashing into my back door. "Keep track of your ID better, please. Here!"
"Why thanks," I turn around and take it from him. "I was wondering what I was missing. Oh and, remember to knock next time, pal."
"That is wildly inappropriate!"
Before I can tuck my ID away, it flashes. I hold down the receiving button. "Yep, Ratchet here."
There's a lot of noise going on in the background, like a ton of voices talking and shouting over each other. Skrunch is the one who's called, blathering in a panic.
"Great," I say.
"What is that racket?" Clank demands.
"No idea. To add to that, Qwark has collapsed in tears in the hotel lobby."
"Oh, what for?"
There's a large group of people in the lobby. A handful of them are from our block, but even more are unfamiliar faces. Some of them have cameras and are surrounding Skidd, who's standing on one side of the room. Another group is around Menzoa on the opposite side. Both ends of the room keep shooting each other looks amongst the rampant shifting and camera flashes.
In the middle, leaning up against the receptionist counter is Qwark, looking pouty and rocking back and forth. Skrunch is in front of him, hissing at anyone who comes too close.
"Damn it," someone mutters. Someone familiar, who I'd seen just the night before. According to his nametag, he's Guy Slickson. It seems he has competition getting photos, though he does stop to snap a photo of Qwark on the floor before walking off.
"The cad...!" Clank utters.
I tug at Qwark's antenna to get him up, and also to test how sensitive its nerve endings are. "The longer you lie there, the harder I'll pull."
"Pull it off, then. Skrunch, don't tell me you called them so you all can try shaming me! So what if I'm at my wit's end for once?" Qwark says. "None of you know the struggle of having so much dignity!"
"Oowaaahh," I sigh, rubbing my face.
"Qwark, be more reasonable! You are usually not this sulky," says Clank.
"First I find out all too late SOMEONE," Qwark shoots a look at Skrunch, "changed our team name at the last minute, THEN that shilling excuse for an announcer kept getting my name and hard earned status wrong, THEN it all goes off the deep end while we competed!"
He flinches when I let his antennae snap back into place.
"Qwark," I say.
"Yes?"
"You got first on the last event and you're in second in the rankings. Did you forget already, or is that not good enough for you?"
"It...It IS, it makes up for the bad nuances," he cries. "I'm talking about our equipment being off the goop when no one else's was, I'm telling you it's all a conspiracy against me!"
"You are causing even more of a scene in front of the free press right now," Clank says, lowering his voice. "That wretched Slickson just took a photo of you, and you know what he will do with it!"
Qwark takes his thumb out of his mouth. "He shouldn't have been contracted ANYWAY! I SAID that the instant I saw his track record way back when, but of course Menzoa had a greater say on who contributes to the amusement of the masses...!"
Frustrated, he grabs the blarg-shaped squeezy toy off the front desk and begins viciously strangling it.
"Huh," I utter, hit with a sudden epiphany. "You know, on occasion Qwark's been on the dot, even if he has the figurative marksmanship of a drunk Horny Toad. I'm starting to think he's onto something."
Clank just looks at me, shaking his head in defeat.
"Yeah that's right!" Skidd's voice suddenly goes up several volumes. "I'm gonna have a souvenir signing in a couple days, folks! It'll be in the park!"
"Expect it to be canceled, I am having a makeup speech in the park on the very same day," Menzoa says.
"You don't have the final say!" says a woman on Skidd's side. "Mr. McMarxx has already spoken to the Director and has been approved, anyway!"
"In what universe?!" a groupie from Menzoa's side shoots back. "If that happened, Mr. Menzoa here would've heard of it—"
"Yes, and I have not," Menzoa says smoothly, rolling his neck. "But, you can grovel if you'd like. The Director will never prioritize a competitor over one of his closest, highest ranking members of the event staff!"
Qwark bolts up, thundering, "That may be true, but you don't deserve any of what you pine for! You only deserve what you inevitably have coming!"
There's a round of ooohs and instigative muttering. Menzoa scoffs sarcastically, facing Qwark.
"That's right, fear my words!" Qwark says. "You're nothing but the definition of a flea-infested scumbag looking for the next dog to overtake and euthanize!"
"Damn!" Noinah's voice floats up. "Heard that one, Captain!"
Qwark adds virtuously, "And if I were to have a say—"
"YES, but that's right Crapernicus, you don't," Menzoa says loudly. "Not as a supervisor. You and the competitors you piddle with have no voices in the matters that be. I have to say; at least McMarxx has some value to his craft. Where's the media around you?"
Qwark recoils in offense, holding a hand to his chest.
"I say you looked really photogenic on the ground just then! Yes, yes?" Menzoa smiles smugly and looks around the room in triumph, getting several snickers from his click.
"Qwark, don't let that guy get to you," I say.
"He can't help it," Menzoa announces humorlessly. "He's still just so livid we both got the positions we deserved!"
"Why, you…HOOOOO!" Qwark howls. He's got veins sticking out of his neck. "You...YOU...are only smug because you're surrounded by your click that's as shallow as your humility! You're nothing but a sack of—"
"Grok dung? That's what you looked like just then, dead weight," Menzoa says, then looks between me, Clank, and Skrunch. "Good thing the three of you didn't try to help him up, hmm? You probably would've had to drop from the events due to breaking your spines."
Qwark's eyes are wide and he breathes heavily, ready to explode.
"Uh...where the heck are the guards?" I realize. "'Cause you all know if Qwark snaps, we're screwed, right?"
Too wanders up cautiously, holding his sister. "Ah, well...there haven't been any around, that's the thing. It was this crazy when we got here twenty minutes earlier."
"Even the receptionist is missing..." Clank notes. "I wonder if something else is the matter."
It's a few tense minutes, with Qwark and Menzoa spitting insults at each other, and us ready to stop the big guy in case he goes full berserker mode. Considering the target of his ire, he's surprisingly good at holding himself back.
Wade finally flies into the lobby, taken aback by the ruckus. "What the...!? Alright, alright, people! What's going on here?!"
Qwark and Menzoa point at each other, bawling, "He's being a jerk!"
Wade clears out both groups from the foyer to avoid any more meltdowns. Of course Menzoa isn't having it, storming off outside. The lobby is soon peaceful again.
"Aw, man," Skidd says, dropping down on a couch after his last publicist has left. "We weren't even doing anything wrong."
"I trust that, Mr. McMarxx," Wade says. "I needed to defuse that situation before it got any more volatile."
Qwark is balled up in a corner with his arms crossed. "Wouldn't have happened if there were more guards in here."
"Yes, well...they've been assigned to another priority at the moment...oh...!" Wade lifts his antennae, likely getting another message, and speaks again seconds later. "...I need to step out again. Will everyone be alright now?"
"It wasn't any of us stirring the pot, so yes!" Qwark answers huffily.
Wade lowers his eyelids, looking our way. I motion for him to leave, if not to reserve his concern for better things.
"Alright, then..." Wade stops for a moment, then adds, "And...just as a precaution, take someone with you if you go out. A partner, or a friend. It's easy to get disoriented in the Dome and lose your way."
He strides out of the lobby and into the day. I sit down on the couch next to Noinah, who's been casually watching the holo-vid as if there wasn't just chaos erupting around her. Finally, a reprieve. I was mainly thinking about going to see Talwyn and what else she's been up to, but I need to shut my eyes for a moment.
"Sis!" Too exclaims, fumbling her.
Tree falls, bounces off the couch arm, then lands in my lap. She nudges herself underneath my arm, growling when Too tries to reach for her.
"She get fussy for nap. Very tiring day for her," Wun says, buying his twentieth Choochy Bar from the vending machine. "Is alright with you, Ratchet?"
"Hey, any time. She's got the right idea." I say, extending the foot rest for the armchair, sinking back into the softness. "I snore, by the way," I say to Noinah.
"So do I," she says. "Won't bother me none."
Tree falls to her side, instantly knocked out. My own head hits the back of the couch a second later.
Why is my head growling?
"And...see...I also had a time where I wasn't too sure about that biological truth...even now, it's sort of come back to haunt me."
Talwyn is talking. Her voice had been floating around in my dreams for awhile, but she's actually here, now. Wait, what is she talking about with who?
Noinah coughs, speaking remarkably quieter than her normal volume. "Ah well. I reckon there's no shame in being weary of that. It's natural. But it's a distraction, an evil one. I honestly don't think you got anything ta worry about, Sugar Momma."
"...yep. I know it's a stupid, pointless, concern."
It's silent for quite a while.
Talwyn leans in close, whispering in my ear. "You can't pretend you're still asleep...the moment you stopped snoring, I knew."
"Ah, you got me," I say, opening the eye closest to her. "I wasn't about to eavesdrop on anything sensitive, was I?"
"We were on a chicks before dicks sorta topic, yeah," Noinah says.
"Noinah!" Talwyn laughs.
"Oh! Okay, fair enough," I say, leaning up. Tree is no where to be seen. "Wait...where's the baby?!"
"Top head," Talwyn says.
Oh, I did have extra weight up there. I think it was her growling that woke me up. She starts up again and I take her from my head. "What's wrong, Tree? Hey, look at you!"
For once, her eyes are fully focused...and glaring. She snarls, open-mouthed, over my shoulder. Turning around shows she's looking towards the front desk. The receptionist is back, speaking quietly to Wade.
"What...you weren't denied service or protection, were you?" I joke.
"Nope!" Too pops up from behind the couch dressed in Dome paraphernalia, covered with kisses, and wearing a drink hat. "She's just really particular sometimes about people. Too bad she's not old enough to talk..."
"Maybe she's sensing something we can't?" Talwyn says. She reaches to pet Tree, who leaps out of my arms. Her barks thunder with deep rage and she sounds a thousand times bigger as she bolts towards the receptionist desk.
"'ho, now!" Wade leaps up onto the desk, the receptionist joining him near simultaneously. Tree circles them hissing and snapping. She grabs the chair in her jaws then turns it over, flinging it yards over where it crashes into the wall.
"OH, shit!" Noinah cries.
"Sorry, sorry!" Too drops his belongings. I hop over the couch to help him. Tree stops short to not get caught by her brother, only to turn around and run into me.
"Wun warned me you were stronger than you looked," I say, struggling just to hold her. "Too, you might wanna..."
"Yeah, we're heading to the stands!" He cries, taking her. "Thanks a ton, Ratchet. Okay, hold on Tree, we're gonna go watch the sports now with bro, okay?"
She doesn't settle down, staring over his shoulder. Her barking and snarling doesn't stop even after they leave the lobby.
"Sorry about that, Ms. Beade," Wade tells the receptionist, jumping down and giving her a hand.
"I don't blame you," she says, pale and flustered. They go to inspect her chair, which is now has an armrest broken off.
"Man," I say, rubbing my head. "That was different."
"Ah, she's probably used to throwing tantrums like that," Noinah says. "Seems like they can't keep her under control sometimes...that might be a problem if she grows up to be temperamental AND a meathead like Wun."
Talwyn is looking over thoughtfully, frowning. "Hm."
"Come to head out?" I ask her.
"It doesn't matter. I would've been fine just sitting here listening to you snore."
"Which, boy, please," Noinah speaks up, laughing. "That's not snoring, that's purring."
"No! It is not," I say defensively, and Talwyn snickers. "C'mon, let's go, Tal! I need to eat something, now."
She leans in briefly, lowering her voice. "I'm sure you're not talking about me just yet."
"If you're fine with being the cherry on top," I utter.
"Heard that," Noinah says, making us both freeze. "Ha! Just kidding. Must've been something really spicy-nicey, then, yeah!"
"Oh, brother...speaking of which, Noinah, did you see where Clank headed off to?"
"Aww. He went with Buz. No now, don't worry about him," Noinah says. "Ya'll go off now. No third wheeling."
I glance at Talwyn. There's something off about her demeanor. I'm sure it has to do with whatever they were talking about.
"Yep, let's go, before you forget and pull another banana out or something," Talwyn says, making me groan and Noinah wheeze in laughter. She rifles with something in my pocket. "You might want to use this."
It's a map. "How and when did that get there?" I ask.
"Clank put it in your pocket when you were out. That's a clear message to me."
"Okay...food first, then. Uh, let's see here…how to get to this spot.." I study the map for a bit as we walk out to the sidewalk. "It says we gotta walk down to Electric Avenue…"
"That's Eletris Avenue, Ratchet."
It turns out I've been this way before, when I'd been stalking Guzman. Thankfully the streets are nowhere near as full as they were then. We end up at a small diner, settling down at a table on the outside patio. It gives us a decent view of the park. The stage's remnants still stand.
After we place our order Talwyn folds her menu, saying, "I wonder what the story behind that mess is."
"Oh, it caught fire," I say, sipping my lemonade. When I look up she's staring expectantly, almost making me choke with laughter. "Talwyn, do you automatically assume I have something to do with everything?"
She lays her menu flat, resting her chin on her propped up hands.
"Alright, so clearly I didn't start it," I say.
"Thank you for elaborating. I only say that because things tend to explode or catch fire when you're in their presence. So what happened?"
She starts off suspicious and tense, but turns horrified when I tell her.
"Oh, my goodness. You think that was something accidental?"
"Mm...didn't look like arson to me."
She stares at the table, stirring the ice cubes in her drink for a moment. "About The Director…you still feel…you know, about him?"
"Oh, YES," I groan.
The waiter's finally coming this way with my pizza! I thank him then immediately start wrecking it. I forget where I am until Talwyn finally clears her throat.
"Breathe...for a moment and answer, please," she says.
"What was the question?"
"Vox, Ratchet."
"Oh…oh, right," I take a drink, chasing half of the sixteen inch I'd just pounded down, then answer. "I mean, he's…nothing to be concerned about, Talwyn. His intentions are pure, he's just..."
I stop for a moment, looking at the floating screens nearby as they turn on. The new block must be getting ready to start.
"Why the pause?"
"I just...I hope whatever's brewing in his heart doesn't get to him. The family connection is tormenting him as much as it's driving his passion. Everything he's built, from the Dome up, came from Gleeman Vox's estate…I'm not sure how much he can look at right now and say it's come from himself, you know? It all leads back to thoughts of his uncle. That type of circular thinking isn't healthy."
"Once it gets started, no. That money was cursed…" Talwyn utters darkly, glowering around.
"Hey, now, what's this?!" Dallas is beginning to introduce the second block of teams. "Team Blackout is being headed by a Widdler named Blight! This self-entitled, bleak-furred blooming thespian, is SURELY missing half of his charm, intellect, and wit without his partner! But who could care, if he doesn't? Look at the inspirational moxie on his face, people! It makes me want to try college again!"
I spin my straw in my mouth, studying the screen.
"That guy looks like another competitor I've met," I say. "If not related, they're surely the same species. I can't remember his name, but...that missing partner of his seemed really distant and accident prone. Probably lost his way to the stadium."
"Maybe he bailed," Talwyn says. She's joking and we don't think twice about it. We enjoy lunch and watch the games. It sure is a different feeling watching others compete on a field we were just on.
But of course, at some point, Talwyn nudges my leg. She's looking over my shoulder oddly. I sigh inwardly and look around to see someone in a trench coat walking to our table, face covered by a hood and sunglasses. Gee, I can't wait to see what'd become of this.
"Good afternoon." Sasha removes her hood and glasses. "Mind if we shoot the breeze for a moment?"
"Hey, hey, hey! C'mon now, don't tease me, Sasha." I pout. "It's not fair to say the s word with all the weapon restrictions they've got going on."
"You act like you have absolutely no self-control," Talwyn snorts, and I crack up.
Sasha smiles gently, reaching out to shake our hands. "I'm sorry. I noticed you both and had to come over. I didn't think I'd be running into either of you so soon..."
"Didn't expect to see you at all. Is the President here?" I ask.
"Yes, actually! He's taking a more casual approach. I won't do that…I think you can figure why."
"It couldn't have been clearer the moment I saw you."
"Right...and I can take a hint from your general demeanor, but I can see there's probably nothing to be concerned about here."
"Nothing indicative," Talwyn says.
A sharp pain runs through the center of my navel. My hand twitches on the table.
"Nothing indicative," Sasha agrees. "That's more accurate. Yes?"
"Yep," I say, in what I think is an unassuming tone. But it's amazing. Talwyn senses figurative blood and she eyes me hard.
Sasha turns away, waiting for a guard nearby to pass before facing us again. Her voice goes quieter. "I'm sure you've been asked plenty of times before...but please give me the short on what you've noticed about Guzman, Ratchet."
"He's not sending any threatening vibes. He's really personable, but his self-esteem is linked to how people see him. Like, big time."
"Just about what I thought..." Sasha says, maybe more to herself. "I've only had several brief encounters with him before...I always got the impression he couldn't truly relax around me. Like...he tried a bit too hard to show me what he wasn't."
"Isn't. I believe in him."
"But is he radically troubled by the legacy his uncle left behind?"
I scratch my head awkwardly. "I couldn't disagree."
Sasha frowns slightly. "It isn't surprising. I'd be more suspicious if it were otherwise. I can tell he's very empathetic. I'm just not sure what that inner conflict of his could lend itself to. Other than...everything we're seeing and touching right now."
Talwyn shifts in her seat. Her eyes have gotten slightly wider.
"What I truly believe is that I'm here to quell my paranoia," Sasha muses, staring at the screen nearby. "He has a clean record, and everything about him seems just. Things in the past can be difficult to break free of, whether if a person was directly affected or not. If nothing happens...then they'll never have to know I was here. If something does happen…"
"Then that'd just be it," I say. "But it's the worst case scenario...you know?"
Sasha suddenly reaches into her pocket, clearing the area again. I wouldn't be surprised if she had several Rangers posted here in disguise as well.
"I know," she answers. "I've got to take this call from my surveying team...I've got to go, but I'm sure I'll see you both again soon...goodbye."
"Take care," I say, and she pulls her hood back up before ducking out of the patio. I gaze at the table, letting the conversation run through my mind, then notice Talwyn's expression. I can't tell if she's about to explode or shed tears.
"Tal, it'll—"
"No, I don't want to hear it," she snaps. "I already know what's going to come out of your mouth. It'll only be alright when I get you and Clank back safe and sound. Sasha has good instincts just like you. She's here for the main reason you are, just in case she has to be. This whole mess is steeped in political drama and encumbrances with The Director at the middle of all of it! He is NOT the strongest lynchpin and you both know it."
Before I can speak she cuts me off. "Not to mention, you know more than what you told either of us, don't you?"
It's quiet for a few uncomfortable seconds.
"Ratchet, did something happen to you?"
"Meaning...?"
She closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. "It did."
"Agh, well..."
"No, no! No, no...I already know how it works. You're not going to tell me."
"I don't want to upset you any further, that's for sure."
Talwyn grinds her teeth hard. "You know what? FINE. I'll actually leave that be," she growls. "Why wonder or get angry over something I'll never know? Ignorance is bliss!"
"...I also don't want you to get in trouble," I say calmly.
"Then it really must...yep, just keep it to yourself! Just keep it, Ratchet, and I'll pretend I didn't ask. Is that fine? That's what you want, right?"
"To an extent. I mean, pragmatism is important here. I'm not trying to demean your intelligence, Talwyn."
She leans over the table, completely still, covering her face with her hands. It takes her several minutes to speak again.
"I just...I'm tired of the constant worry," she says calmly, uncovering her blank face. "Maybe I'm not as resilient as I thought I was."
"Hey, now," I put a hand over one of hers. "You're resilient. I think it's fair to say you've reached a breaking point, though. Maybe several."
Her mouth turns down even further.
"You…want to tell me what else is on your mind?" I ask gently.
She struggles for a moment, putting her other hand on top of mine. "...Maybe…later. It's…stupid, really. I think you heard me earlier...just pointless...concern. With no weight in reality. Sorry for...going off on you."
"I gotcha, Talwyn."
We're both done eating, but neither of us gets up or even speaks for a little while afterwards. Talwyn stares at the games, not really watching them, and I keep my eyes on a constant search. I've been put on guard, now maybe with the slightest case of paranoia. It really makes things appear where they aren't…
Or...people.
I stand up suddenly, knocking my chair over. "Hey—!"
"Huh, what?!" Talwyn demands, turning in her seat. I've had a view of the street, and it's still overflowing with too much movement, too many different faces, features, and colors. I grunt, rubbing my eyes.
"What is it?" Talwyn asks.
"I…thought I saw someone..."
"Who? Good or bad?"
"More like ugly...nah, hah hah, I'm not even gonna say who I thought it was...you'd totally make fun of me. I think I'm just..."
"Silly," she teases. "You look and sound sleepy."
"I've got like...one percent left in me…" I say, peering out at the street one more time. "...so Tal, what does your place look like? Does it have at least one chair?"
"You're really treading on that one percent if you ask that."
Talwyn is lagging behind me for some reason.
"Talwyn?" I ask. Her eyes had been aimed at my lower backside but flick up when I look around. "Hey, you gonna be alright?"
"That's the fourth time you've asked that, Ratchet."
I grin at her. "You're red in the face...can I wager it's not because you're angry this time?"
Her mouth twitches a bit, but she smiles. Someone bursts out of our hotel on the opposite street. Ironically enough it's another Cazar, maybe another competitor. Noinah is seen trying to come out as well, attempting to push past Wade and another guard holding her back. She's ranting and raving, cursing furiously. The Cazar laughs obnoxiously, pointing at Noinah.
"Ms. Zorra, please excuse yourself!" Wade yells. He almost gets caught upside the head by one of Noinah's flailing arms and hefts her back.
The Cazar named Zorra stands there for a moment with her hands on her hips, then spits on the concrete steps before walking off with a dismissive gesture. Noinah visibly gets further enraged; all of her eyes are bugging and bloodshot.
We stop for a moment. "What's going on with her?" Talwyn asks, staring at Zorra. I'm so busy watching the struggle I don't notice the footsteps on rapid approach behind us.
"Move out of my way!" Menzoa snaps. He shoves between us roughly, pushing me sideways into the shrubbery.
I rocket up to my feet. Talwyn is already honing into him, seizing his shoulder and hurtling him to the pavement. He hits the ground along with several of his personal items. I bear down on him, yanking him up by his collar.
"Don't you hit me!" Menzoa snaps, covering his face. The sole reason I don't is because Wade arrives with peak timing, wrestling me off the sniveling punk.
"Alright, stop, everyone. Stand—stand back, Mr. Ratchet," Wade says sternly, holding a hand out. He's panting and flushed. "Now...are you hurt from that fall?"
"Keep counting your days," I tell Menzoa.
"Wade, he's threatening me, did you hear that?!" Menzoa yells.
Wade looks at us in warning, then faces the agent with a frown. "I did. There's no need to shove, Mr. Menzoa. I understand you're still upset, but as a member of event staff you should especially know better."
"What about her? She pushed me down! They ganged up on me!"
"You did damage first. Don't be surprised by the justification." Wade looks over at our hotel, sees that the other guards have kept Noinah restrained, then back to Menzoa. "Do you need help getting up?"
"Yes! I'd better not have any lasting injuries."
"I'm sure you'll be fine," Wade nods us off. "Mr. Ratchet, Ms. Apogee…carry on, please. Now."
"They had better," Menzoa says.
You know, sometimes we just come across people who're inexplicably good at pressing our buttons. All I can say is that Qwark a lot more patience with him than I do. I honestly respect that now.
"God, what an absolute moron," Talwyn says, giving me the case of the giggles. Soon we're heading up the steps to her hotel. It turns out she's got the sole rooftop suite. We peek over the edge, still seeing Menzoa admonishing Wade.
"If I had a sniper..." Talwyn hisses.
"...then I'd give you the ammo."
Her face turns rosy. We head into her suite.
"Hey, nice carpet! Is that velvet?" I wander into the bathroom. "Nice, a giant hot tub!"
"You missed the water bed."
I bolt out of the bathroom and jump, landing in the middle of the bed. It bounces me and I flip, landing in the armchair next to the fireplace.
"Woo! Ouch…need to take it easy," I say, adjusting my ice pack. "I'm stuck between wanting to sleep for the rest of the day and maybe getting creative with what else we can do. I'll let you shoot first; got anything in mind?"
She stares through heavy lids and glittering irises.
"Well, stay where you are," she says finally. "I bought some things at the store yesterday I told you about, remember? Think you can..."
"I just had a sixteen inch, but I can keep up...I think. Unless you're putting me under a stress test. We had a fellow enthusiast who was a bit curious on how we spent some of our free time."
"Yeah, Noinah?"
I almost fall out of my seat. "Tal, you already...?!"
"Oh, I just glossed over the general stuff. I know I just met her, but she's pretty...oh, personable. I'll steal that from you," Talwyn says, sauntering over to the water bed and kneeling. She pulls out a black chest covered in rusted chains. "She gives meaningful advice, even if she is a bit old fashioned..."
I'm silent and maybe a bit nervous. "Did she, uh...give you any new ideas?"
"Maybe...I hope you're not needed any time soon."
She turns around holding a rope in her hands. It's heavy duty. I'll be tied up for awhile.