Ch.3: Close To You
Involuntarily I gave a little shiver. Something wasn't right. The Victims were...
happy? Satisfied? Content? I had never heard such a happy, warmly anticipated note in the
ir songs before - were they waiting for something? They were excited, their thoughts in
brilliant hues of red and sparkling yellow, their songs rising together in a strange,
twisted sort of harmony as they blended their thoughts together in my head. However, they
paid less attention to me than to something, or someone else. Perhaps they were targeting
G.O.A.? It was certainly possible they figured out all of their opponents launched from the
same ship every time. However, I could feel that was not correct; they were after a
specific SOMEONE, or SOMETHING, and G.O.A. seemed too large to be the center of their
thoughts.
An especially trilling note seemed to block my senses for a moment. I shook my mind
clear and shoved whatever they were sending to me to the back of my mind. To my right I
could see Eeva Leena completely dazed and out of it. Suddenly my mind jolted. Were they
after Eeva Leena? After Gareas?
I reached out to him frantically, but found my way blocked by singing, grating on my
nerves. I forced myself to concentrate - and by sheer luck, found myself in the very core
of Gareas' mind. I looked around. What visions were they feeding him? They obviously were
purposefully distracting him. To take the Eeva Leena out of commission forever? Was that
even possible?
It was not hard to see what they were showing him. Around me were pictures of
Ernest, some random, hazy thoughts as if Gareas was partway drunk, and then the soft
underlining thoughts of "Why isn't Ernest here now? Because of me" and "I should have been
there to save him". And then, to my amazement, he turned his mind to face me, and I even
think he saw me or my brother in Reneighd Klein before I was ripped back into the Goddess.
Trying to control a throbbing headache from staying in someone's core mind for more than
five minutes, I manage to clear the stars from my vision and pay heed to Rioroute's startled
cries.
"Luhma - Reneighd Klein! Get your butt moving! Do you copy, Reneighd Klein? Luhma
Klein! Erts, are you alright ?" He sounded panicky, and I could feel Tune's voice over
the comm. link as well. Her words were more effective than Rioroute's; she spoke softly,
reassuringly, and I felt my head stop spinning 360 and saw to my abject horror, Eeva Leena
starting to be towed away by - not the other Goddesses when Eeva Leena was seriously injured
- but by the Victims -
- "Stop!", I cried, and tried to retain grip on my awareness and use it like a
weapon, "Where are you taking him! Victims, speak to me!"
But there was only soft notes in the back of my mind. Drawing them up to their full
volume I tried to hear, tried to discern something from them. All I heard or managed to
hear before they disappeared completely was a fade of soft green and a brush of magenta -
and the one word I found they managed to discern from our thoughts and copy almost
perfectly: "Away". Even as I shoved the Reneighd Klein's boosters forward, the last traces
of Victims and their thoughts slipped from view, and with a last desperate glint, Eeva
Leena disappeared into the vast of space.
If I had been Gareas in this position, I would have punched the wall and vented out
my anger vocally until the comm. links shattered. However, I could only seethe inwardly and
let the immense feeling of guilt wash over me. My brother, Ernest, had died in order to
save his best friend Gareas - and here I was, his very capable little brother, in perfect
position to retrieve that same Gareas, and dumbly didn't move because of a headache! It was
disgraceful. I could only imagine my brother's voice, soft but firm, telling me to be more
careful. "Mistakes may teach you, but it is still better to avoid mistakes."
Things did not get better once we got back to base. As soon as I stepped outside,
Rioroute proceeded to slam me several times on the cockpit door, regardless I could read the
flurry of spiteful thoughts that immediately got transferred to me. Tune and Leena were
both pulling on his arms, trying to get me off of him, but for radically different reasons:
Tune was looking to save me from the rest of Rioroute's wrath, and Leena was looking to
have her own chance at yelling at me. Not that I could blame her; she had just lost Gareas
and her Goddess, and it was not fair to her. The pounding in my head only served to throb
louder with every thought, every wave of emotion that came spiraling my way. Was it a
sudden loss of concentration or thought that sent everything crashing down?
Rioroute froze, his arm falling into place beside him and dropping me into a heap.
His face remained frozen even as he slumped, unconscious, to the linoleum floor, and vaguely
I connected the two as the floor Gareas had pounded in frustration as a dented, torn,
ripped Reneighd Klein hovered above him, still proud on its supports to lift it up.
"What did you do to him?", Phil ran up and slapped me hard enough to whip my face to
the side. Quickly she gave a furious glance and lifted Rioroute, hungry appetite and all,
back to his room. Leena gave me a furtive look, then a quick eye at Tune, then swept away
to her own room. Beseechingly I looked up towards Teela. What in the world happened? Did
I - could I - cause Rioroute to lose consciousness like that?
"Hypnogogic hallucinations", Teela said simply, as if it explained everything. I
gave her my best "I-don't-understand" look, and she sighed. "It usually happens when a
person hasn't gotten enough sleep. The person sees hallucinations without being able to
control what he sees." She gave me a sharp look. "You were able to put him in one, just
for a few seconds."
Suddenly worry rippled over me. What had Rioroute seen? Had it been something
important? It nagged at the end of my thoughts, a little trailing thread that refused to be
cut off. Absently I pushed past Yu and Teela, promised Tune I wouldn't go looking for
dangerous objects to kill myself with, stopped in front of a door, a door I had entered so
many times. Hesitantly I slid the door open to the tree room. My brother would understand.
My brother always understood.
I could have sighed with relief. The trees almost waved at me happily, as if it
were my older brother coming to greet me. That was it! The hallucination must have been
about...Ernest? With quick steps I strode to the grove and sat against the tree. I could
feel the vents blowing declarations of love, of separations, declarations of death, crying,
pain and misery as well as golden light and joy from above in the people that came here in
the spare time to say what they needed to say. Now I was here. What would I say?
"Brother, do you hate me?" My voice sounded so small. I wasn't like my brother
Ernest, tall, stately, almost statuesque. I was just his little brother here. It wasn't
such a bad feeling - if I imagined, I could almost see him in the mind's eye. I did not
cry; it was more relieving to find I could still call up my brother's face than push him
away. Of course, it wasn't very hard to remember his face; all I had to do was look in the
mirror and - there he was, staring back at me.
The other would be looking for me soon, a voice pushed me. But I didn't move. Let
them try to enter my sanctuary.
Was I so completely like my brother that we even had the same little quirks? I
could sometimes see Gareas looking at me when I twirled the strange-looking food onto my
fork and placed it carefully in my mouth. Was he seeing Ernest in me? I wondered sometimes
if he saw so much of Ernest he got us completely mixed up. The other day he stopped me in
the hall, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Ernest -". I found I couldn't listen
to his next words, all I could hear was the first word, the name of my dead brother, always
on his lips.
And if I tried hard enough, I could even hate my brother.
It was almost ludicrous, the way I thought. If I tried hard enough, I could almost
imagine I was happy Ernest was gone. It gave a chance to discover my own individuality. I
was tired of having people stop me in the hall, staring at me, peering at me like I was
some kind of ghost, then shaking their heads and saying, "No, it's not Ernest. It's just
his little brother Erts". Was that all I was, a little brother of some great legend? The
little copy of the man who saved the life of the one he trusted the most in the world?
For once, it wasn't fair that I wasn't the one he trusted the most. For two, I was
not getting angry. In fact, I was perfectly calm as I sat against the tree. It was the
leaves above that were angry, shouting in their chattering, frantic voices to stop thinking
these thoughts. The vents blew almost a melancholy chord against my ear, brushing my hair
past my ear to whip savagely against my eyes. I lifted it away and continued to stare in
the distance. It took me a second to realize I was staring at not just the slope of a mini-
hill, railing and stairs, but a person descending slowly up. The hair, the uniform was a
dead-giveaway. It was Rioroute.
I stood, defending the sacred ground that had been my brother and mine. No, I did
not hate my brother. He was the one who gave me identity in the first place. Being
"Ernest's little brother" was better than the label of "stranger", that I knew enough. But
he had given too much to me, as I had grown to be almost an extension of his spirit. If I
ever wanted to know if I could achieve my own individuality, I would have to ask my brother.
Unfortunately, he was dead and I would never be able to do that.
Despair filled me, both from the figure approaching me and from the thought my
invincible anchor could be dead. "Brother", I whispered before Rioroute could get close
enough to read my lips or hear what I said, "what do I do?"
We stared at each other for a moment, then Rioroute turned away, almost embarrassed,
and sat down a few steps from the top. "Are you coming down from there or not?", he asked
gruffly, but I could almost smell the fear on him. Now I was a little apprehensive. Just
what HAD I shown him in that hallucination?
I did not sit, only stood over him and tried my best not to let my screaming
questions emerge from the back of my throat. My voice felt dry. I felt trapped.
"Gareas - Gareas once showed me here, you know?", he begin uncertainly, as if he
wasn't sure. Rather, I was sure he wasn't so positive about coming to talk to me in the
first place - it must have been Phil's doing, I decided. He wouldn't come up here to bother
me when I was off in my brother's world if it had been anything else. "I asked him, 'How
long do you think we can remain pilots?'"
I must have fallen down, because the next moment Rioroute was beside me, shaking me
anxiously and muttering, "Wake up, Erts, I swear it wasn't me. Get up, Erts, don't die on
me or something."
When my eyes fluttered open again, he sat me up, only to envelope me in something I
could only describe as a affectionate hug from a brother to a brother. I froze for a
moment, and my thoughts began to chant "And I thought he didn't like telepaths?" as I leaned
in to his arms. "You know", he began softly, "you're not really like Ernest, you get what
I mean? Ernest was so much more distant. He wasn't used to people, I guess, before
whatever brought him here. You grew up here, surrounded by different people, or at least to
some extent." He detached himself and held me at arms length, as if he were a father
surveying his favorite son. I could hear his thoughts of encouragement and warmth, and felt
my eyes close, trying to memorize the moment, freeze it in time. "You're Erts, you know
what I mean? I'm not saying I didn't like you brother, but I guess it could be said I like
you better, Erts." He panicked for a moment at his words and added a hasty, "I didn't mean
that an insult to his memory or anything, Erts! Don't get me wrong on that one!"
I shook my head and my forehead crashed against his shoulder again as a plea for
another hug. He gave it gladly and even ruffled my hair a bit, like Ernest used to do to
me. There, that name again. My brother. Oh, Ernest, was it you who brought Rio out to
meet me now, to comfort me? If you did, I thank you, my dear brother, because it has
suddenly made me feel so much better.
I could feel the slow cycle of his thoughts change to a bit more sober, dreary
thoughts. "Erts", he said softly, and his mind filled with confused colors. "You really
miss your brother, don't you? That's why you still come here, isn't it?"
Slowly I took his hands from my shoulders - I didn't want any loose thoughts seeping
into his mind. "Yes", I answered, "somewhat. I come here because I feel he is still
here."
To my surprise Rio didn't jump up in amazement. Was it possible he felt Ernest as
well? I couldn't be sure what his EX ability was, so I didn't know. Instead, he mused,
"That so? I could feel him, just a little wisp of him as well, when I came in here a few
weeks ago. Doesn't seem that long, does it, since he's been gone. It seems only yesterday.
Proves how much a telepath can cling to your brain, I guess." He gave a funny look and a
sheepish gesture of embarrassment.
There was a few moments of silence. "What did I show you in that vision?", I asked
finally. He looked at me slowly, almost lazily, and then gave a weak chuckle that was
completely false.
"A boy, flipping back to retrieve his fencer-sword-thing, then you cornering him,
and then a horrible feeling." Rio gave a little shudder, and I rubbed his arm absently, as
if it would help bring warmth back into him. "It felt like the world was falling apart all
at once, like it was crumbling. It felt like you were getting stabbed in the gut a million
times. All that time I thought I could see through Ernest's eyes, you know, or something
like that? I could see the back of that Victim we fought that day, then the large teeth
coming down, then that horrible scream and your voice screaming something like 'BROKEN,
BROKEN', you know, something like that?" He looked far off into the distance and slipped my
hand into his, tightened his grip to me. I could see it too, strangely, thought another's
eyes, and I heard his unspoken thought, "It was him dying. I know that's for sure. I just
never thought it would that painful."
His arms went around me again. Brother, I thought desperately, I hope this is your
doing. Have I found a substitute for you this soon already? Brother, my dear brother
Ernest, give me my identity, tell me what I am, not just a copy of you like everyone thinks.
Speak to me, my brother, give me my own feelings so I can be Rio's little brother, tell me
so I can love him as I loved you!
I hardly noticed I had somewhere along the way, I had started to call him not
'Rioroute', but simply 'Rio'.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
Author's note:
Ick. Sap, even if it's brotherly sap. But don't you find little Ertsie's mind nice
and maleable? *gives an evil chuckle* It's sooooo nice to play with...thoughts taste like
honey...*smacks head* Gawd, you starting to imitate Schuldich, and Heaven knows that's not
a good character to copy. Anyways, I made Rioroute sound intelligent here - why? Because
that way he's not a pilot for no reason. He obviously got to be a pilot for some reason...
and half of that is because he knows how to use his brain. That's proven here. Of course,
who'da thought Erts would find solace with Rio? And what the heck's with Garu?
Andrea Weiling
Involuntarily I gave a little shiver. Something wasn't right. The Victims were...
happy? Satisfied? Content? I had never heard such a happy, warmly anticipated note in the
ir songs before - were they waiting for something? They were excited, their thoughts in
brilliant hues of red and sparkling yellow, their songs rising together in a strange,
twisted sort of harmony as they blended their thoughts together in my head. However, they
paid less attention to me than to something, or someone else. Perhaps they were targeting
G.O.A.? It was certainly possible they figured out all of their opponents launched from the
same ship every time. However, I could feel that was not correct; they were after a
specific SOMEONE, or SOMETHING, and G.O.A. seemed too large to be the center of their
thoughts.
An especially trilling note seemed to block my senses for a moment. I shook my mind
clear and shoved whatever they were sending to me to the back of my mind. To my right I
could see Eeva Leena completely dazed and out of it. Suddenly my mind jolted. Were they
after Eeva Leena? After Gareas?
I reached out to him frantically, but found my way blocked by singing, grating on my
nerves. I forced myself to concentrate - and by sheer luck, found myself in the very core
of Gareas' mind. I looked around. What visions were they feeding him? They obviously were
purposefully distracting him. To take the Eeva Leena out of commission forever? Was that
even possible?
It was not hard to see what they were showing him. Around me were pictures of
Ernest, some random, hazy thoughts as if Gareas was partway drunk, and then the soft
underlining thoughts of "Why isn't Ernest here now? Because of me" and "I should have been
there to save him". And then, to my amazement, he turned his mind to face me, and I even
think he saw me or my brother in Reneighd Klein before I was ripped back into the Goddess.
Trying to control a throbbing headache from staying in someone's core mind for more than
five minutes, I manage to clear the stars from my vision and pay heed to Rioroute's startled
cries.
"Luhma - Reneighd Klein! Get your butt moving! Do you copy, Reneighd Klein? Luhma
Klein! Erts, are you alright ?" He sounded panicky, and I could feel Tune's voice over
the comm. link as well. Her words were more effective than Rioroute's; she spoke softly,
reassuringly, and I felt my head stop spinning 360 and saw to my abject horror, Eeva Leena
starting to be towed away by - not the other Goddesses when Eeva Leena was seriously injured
- but by the Victims -
- "Stop!", I cried, and tried to retain grip on my awareness and use it like a
weapon, "Where are you taking him! Victims, speak to me!"
But there was only soft notes in the back of my mind. Drawing them up to their full
volume I tried to hear, tried to discern something from them. All I heard or managed to
hear before they disappeared completely was a fade of soft green and a brush of magenta -
and the one word I found they managed to discern from our thoughts and copy almost
perfectly: "Away". Even as I shoved the Reneighd Klein's boosters forward, the last traces
of Victims and their thoughts slipped from view, and with a last desperate glint, Eeva
Leena disappeared into the vast of space.
If I had been Gareas in this position, I would have punched the wall and vented out
my anger vocally until the comm. links shattered. However, I could only seethe inwardly and
let the immense feeling of guilt wash over me. My brother, Ernest, had died in order to
save his best friend Gareas - and here I was, his very capable little brother, in perfect
position to retrieve that same Gareas, and dumbly didn't move because of a headache! It was
disgraceful. I could only imagine my brother's voice, soft but firm, telling me to be more
careful. "Mistakes may teach you, but it is still better to avoid mistakes."
Things did not get better once we got back to base. As soon as I stepped outside,
Rioroute proceeded to slam me several times on the cockpit door, regardless I could read the
flurry of spiteful thoughts that immediately got transferred to me. Tune and Leena were
both pulling on his arms, trying to get me off of him, but for radically different reasons:
Tune was looking to save me from the rest of Rioroute's wrath, and Leena was looking to
have her own chance at yelling at me. Not that I could blame her; she had just lost Gareas
and her Goddess, and it was not fair to her. The pounding in my head only served to throb
louder with every thought, every wave of emotion that came spiraling my way. Was it a
sudden loss of concentration or thought that sent everything crashing down?
Rioroute froze, his arm falling into place beside him and dropping me into a heap.
His face remained frozen even as he slumped, unconscious, to the linoleum floor, and vaguely
I connected the two as the floor Gareas had pounded in frustration as a dented, torn,
ripped Reneighd Klein hovered above him, still proud on its supports to lift it up.
"What did you do to him?", Phil ran up and slapped me hard enough to whip my face to
the side. Quickly she gave a furious glance and lifted Rioroute, hungry appetite and all,
back to his room. Leena gave me a furtive look, then a quick eye at Tune, then swept away
to her own room. Beseechingly I looked up towards Teela. What in the world happened? Did
I - could I - cause Rioroute to lose consciousness like that?
"Hypnogogic hallucinations", Teela said simply, as if it explained everything. I
gave her my best "I-don't-understand" look, and she sighed. "It usually happens when a
person hasn't gotten enough sleep. The person sees hallucinations without being able to
control what he sees." She gave me a sharp look. "You were able to put him in one, just
for a few seconds."
Suddenly worry rippled over me. What had Rioroute seen? Had it been something
important? It nagged at the end of my thoughts, a little trailing thread that refused to be
cut off. Absently I pushed past Yu and Teela, promised Tune I wouldn't go looking for
dangerous objects to kill myself with, stopped in front of a door, a door I had entered so
many times. Hesitantly I slid the door open to the tree room. My brother would understand.
My brother always understood.
I could have sighed with relief. The trees almost waved at me happily, as if it
were my older brother coming to greet me. That was it! The hallucination must have been
about...Ernest? With quick steps I strode to the grove and sat against the tree. I could
feel the vents blowing declarations of love, of separations, declarations of death, crying,
pain and misery as well as golden light and joy from above in the people that came here in
the spare time to say what they needed to say. Now I was here. What would I say?
"Brother, do you hate me?" My voice sounded so small. I wasn't like my brother
Ernest, tall, stately, almost statuesque. I was just his little brother here. It wasn't
such a bad feeling - if I imagined, I could almost see him in the mind's eye. I did not
cry; it was more relieving to find I could still call up my brother's face than push him
away. Of course, it wasn't very hard to remember his face; all I had to do was look in the
mirror and - there he was, staring back at me.
The other would be looking for me soon, a voice pushed me. But I didn't move. Let
them try to enter my sanctuary.
Was I so completely like my brother that we even had the same little quirks? I
could sometimes see Gareas looking at me when I twirled the strange-looking food onto my
fork and placed it carefully in my mouth. Was he seeing Ernest in me? I wondered sometimes
if he saw so much of Ernest he got us completely mixed up. The other day he stopped me in
the hall, and the first words out of his mouth were, "Ernest -". I found I couldn't listen
to his next words, all I could hear was the first word, the name of my dead brother, always
on his lips.
And if I tried hard enough, I could even hate my brother.
It was almost ludicrous, the way I thought. If I tried hard enough, I could almost
imagine I was happy Ernest was gone. It gave a chance to discover my own individuality. I
was tired of having people stop me in the hall, staring at me, peering at me like I was
some kind of ghost, then shaking their heads and saying, "No, it's not Ernest. It's just
his little brother Erts". Was that all I was, a little brother of some great legend? The
little copy of the man who saved the life of the one he trusted the most in the world?
For once, it wasn't fair that I wasn't the one he trusted the most. For two, I was
not getting angry. In fact, I was perfectly calm as I sat against the tree. It was the
leaves above that were angry, shouting in their chattering, frantic voices to stop thinking
these thoughts. The vents blew almost a melancholy chord against my ear, brushing my hair
past my ear to whip savagely against my eyes. I lifted it away and continued to stare in
the distance. It took me a second to realize I was staring at not just the slope of a mini-
hill, railing and stairs, but a person descending slowly up. The hair, the uniform was a
dead-giveaway. It was Rioroute.
I stood, defending the sacred ground that had been my brother and mine. No, I did
not hate my brother. He was the one who gave me identity in the first place. Being
"Ernest's little brother" was better than the label of "stranger", that I knew enough. But
he had given too much to me, as I had grown to be almost an extension of his spirit. If I
ever wanted to know if I could achieve my own individuality, I would have to ask my brother.
Unfortunately, he was dead and I would never be able to do that.
Despair filled me, both from the figure approaching me and from the thought my
invincible anchor could be dead. "Brother", I whispered before Rioroute could get close
enough to read my lips or hear what I said, "what do I do?"
We stared at each other for a moment, then Rioroute turned away, almost embarrassed,
and sat down a few steps from the top. "Are you coming down from there or not?", he asked
gruffly, but I could almost smell the fear on him. Now I was a little apprehensive. Just
what HAD I shown him in that hallucination?
I did not sit, only stood over him and tried my best not to let my screaming
questions emerge from the back of my throat. My voice felt dry. I felt trapped.
"Gareas - Gareas once showed me here, you know?", he begin uncertainly, as if he
wasn't sure. Rather, I was sure he wasn't so positive about coming to talk to me in the
first place - it must have been Phil's doing, I decided. He wouldn't come up here to bother
me when I was off in my brother's world if it had been anything else. "I asked him, 'How
long do you think we can remain pilots?'"
I must have fallen down, because the next moment Rioroute was beside me, shaking me
anxiously and muttering, "Wake up, Erts, I swear it wasn't me. Get up, Erts, don't die on
me or something."
When my eyes fluttered open again, he sat me up, only to envelope me in something I
could only describe as a affectionate hug from a brother to a brother. I froze for a
moment, and my thoughts began to chant "And I thought he didn't like telepaths?" as I leaned
in to his arms. "You know", he began softly, "you're not really like Ernest, you get what
I mean? Ernest was so much more distant. He wasn't used to people, I guess, before
whatever brought him here. You grew up here, surrounded by different people, or at least to
some extent." He detached himself and held me at arms length, as if he were a father
surveying his favorite son. I could hear his thoughts of encouragement and warmth, and felt
my eyes close, trying to memorize the moment, freeze it in time. "You're Erts, you know
what I mean? I'm not saying I didn't like you brother, but I guess it could be said I like
you better, Erts." He panicked for a moment at his words and added a hasty, "I didn't mean
that an insult to his memory or anything, Erts! Don't get me wrong on that one!"
I shook my head and my forehead crashed against his shoulder again as a plea for
another hug. He gave it gladly and even ruffled my hair a bit, like Ernest used to do to
me. There, that name again. My brother. Oh, Ernest, was it you who brought Rio out to
meet me now, to comfort me? If you did, I thank you, my dear brother, because it has
suddenly made me feel so much better.
I could feel the slow cycle of his thoughts change to a bit more sober, dreary
thoughts. "Erts", he said softly, and his mind filled with confused colors. "You really
miss your brother, don't you? That's why you still come here, isn't it?"
Slowly I took his hands from my shoulders - I didn't want any loose thoughts seeping
into his mind. "Yes", I answered, "somewhat. I come here because I feel he is still
here."
To my surprise Rio didn't jump up in amazement. Was it possible he felt Ernest as
well? I couldn't be sure what his EX ability was, so I didn't know. Instead, he mused,
"That so? I could feel him, just a little wisp of him as well, when I came in here a few
weeks ago. Doesn't seem that long, does it, since he's been gone. It seems only yesterday.
Proves how much a telepath can cling to your brain, I guess." He gave a funny look and a
sheepish gesture of embarrassment.
There was a few moments of silence. "What did I show you in that vision?", I asked
finally. He looked at me slowly, almost lazily, and then gave a weak chuckle that was
completely false.
"A boy, flipping back to retrieve his fencer-sword-thing, then you cornering him,
and then a horrible feeling." Rio gave a little shudder, and I rubbed his arm absently, as
if it would help bring warmth back into him. "It felt like the world was falling apart all
at once, like it was crumbling. It felt like you were getting stabbed in the gut a million
times. All that time I thought I could see through Ernest's eyes, you know, or something
like that? I could see the back of that Victim we fought that day, then the large teeth
coming down, then that horrible scream and your voice screaming something like 'BROKEN,
BROKEN', you know, something like that?" He looked far off into the distance and slipped my
hand into his, tightened his grip to me. I could see it too, strangely, thought another's
eyes, and I heard his unspoken thought, "It was him dying. I know that's for sure. I just
never thought it would that painful."
His arms went around me again. Brother, I thought desperately, I hope this is your
doing. Have I found a substitute for you this soon already? Brother, my dear brother
Ernest, give me my identity, tell me what I am, not just a copy of you like everyone thinks.
Speak to me, my brother, give me my own feelings so I can be Rio's little brother, tell me
so I can love him as I loved you!
I hardly noticed I had somewhere along the way, I had started to call him not
'Rioroute', but simply 'Rio'.
/ \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \ / \
Author's note:
Ick. Sap, even if it's brotherly sap. But don't you find little Ertsie's mind nice
and maleable? *gives an evil chuckle* It's sooooo nice to play with...thoughts taste like
honey...*smacks head* Gawd, you starting to imitate Schuldich, and Heaven knows that's not
a good character to copy. Anyways, I made Rioroute sound intelligent here - why? Because
that way he's not a pilot for no reason. He obviously got to be a pilot for some reason...
and half of that is because he knows how to use his brain. That's proven here. Of course,
who'da thought Erts would find solace with Rio? And what the heck's with Garu?
Andrea Weiling