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Though the night was late, lights still burned in the Thorndyke compound. In the northwest hall of the southern wing of the third sector of the mansion on the twenty-third hectare of land on the fifth quadrant of the small country Christopher called home, two small figures peered out a window.
"Sonic sure has been gone a long time," Tails said glumly. Amy nodded along. "Yeah, sure has."
A blue streak of light flashed across the window. "He's back," Tails stated.
They slid away from the windowpane and trotted off to meet their blue friend. By the time they reached the great hall, Sonic had already burst in, but considering the size of the mansion, that was to be expected. The hedgehog was pacing across the floor, fists clenched and face scowling. They watched his feet stomp across the tiles, reach the wall and spin round to march across the floor again. Sometimes, Sonic lingered a moment at the staircase, looking up to the second floor. His observations would end with a frustrated growl and his pacing would continue.
The eyes of Amy and Tails copied the hedgehog's motions, swinging blankly in their orbs like pendulums.
"Sonic's really upset," Amy commented.
"Yeah," Tails agreed.
"He's been like this ever since that last fight with Eggman."
"He hardly sleeps."
"Barely eats."
"Its almost as if something terrible is consuming him."
"Some great guilt that's overpowering his will to live."
"It must be…"
"It has to be…"
"Chris," they whispered together.
The hedgehog shot his pointy nose in their direction. Amy and Tails stopped and gasped out a faint "ohh?" as their eyes shimmered like glassy orbs under fierce light. Sonic seemed to watch them with the weight of the world; so powerful was his stare that everything seemed to go weird and hazy, and the background around him seemed to meld into a kaleidoscope of smeared red and black shades that overstated his anger. Overwhelmed, Tails darted his eyes to the side and caught his reflection in the glass of a grandfather clock. Everything around he and Amy was in a strange mist as well, only theirs was a gently blue and gray, as if the elements of illusion were attempting to contrast their startled, innocent worry to their hero's sullen, yet handsome scowling.
Sonic snorted and stomped out of the hall.
Amy gave a little shudder. "I don't know what's happening, but something is wrong with Sonic."
"It's not just Sonic," Tails said as he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Everything has gone strange since … well, since he used Chaos Control."
"I remember," Amy nodded. "While he was fighting the Egg Emperor, he planned to send Eggman and Knuckles and all of us back to our faraway world…"
"But he stopped when he saw how much Chris would miss him," Tails finished.
"But it was too late," Amy whispered; a chill went down her spine. "He had already activated Chaos Control; even Super Sonic couldn't contain that power. He managed to stop it eventually,"
"But not before part of our world was transported to the human planet. Now Angel Island and the Mystic Ruins are trapped here, just like we are."
"And the chaos emeralds scattered again when Sonic powered down."
"And then … Chris … fell ill; Sonic's been moody and guilty about it; Knuckles hates all of us, because now he's got to keep the military off his island and Eggman …" the young fox gave a nervous pause. "Well, maybe he was destroyed when the Egg Emperor just … well, disintegrated, but maybe not. Maybe he's still out there somewhere, scheming something …"
The conversation had just become far too overwhelming for Amy. She held back a cry and ran out of the hall, leaving Tails alone and greatly confused. "Hey … Amy, wait up!"
He caught up with her on one of the upper level balconies. Amy had thrown herself on the railing and was sobbing underneath a moonlit sky. Tails hesitated at the doorway, then treaded lightly to her side. "Amy, you … you look sad."
Her slender pink frame was quivering; her face was in her hands; her voice … well, Tails was upset to hear that voice, but not for any of the usual reasons, such as because it meant Amy was talking. He was upset because it was making the most miserable and fearful sobs and they touched his soul.
"Amy, you're scared," he stated.
She looked up at him and wiped her eyes. "Sonic and Chris aren't the only ones who've changed, Tails. Don't you feel it?"
"Amy, I'm confused."
She screamed. "Don't you see what's happening to yourself!? Don't you…" she looked into his precious, blue eyes and suddenly, she was without words.
"I … I'm sorry Tails," she apologized. "I was wrong to yell at you like that; I'm only confusing you." She took a deep breath. "I'm talking about you. I'm talking about me. About … us."
The fox went so stiff, he might have been dead and struck with rigamortis. Us???
"We … we hardly see Sonic anymore; we hardly spend any time with him. I mean, sure, we fly him around: you give him power rings, I give him hugs … or … at least I … try to …" She dug her foot sheepishly into the ground, oblivious to how his body was completely shaking, or how his eyes had exploded to such great sizes or how his pores were showering the floor with sweat. His lips were moving about strangely, as if he were trying to get them in the shape for whistling and he was inching towards her...
"But, it's like we hardly know Sonic; that we just exist without him. Like it's just ... you and me …"
I can do this, Tails told himself. Okay, all I have to do is close my eyes, leeaaan in sloowwwly and…
Amy saw him, eyes scrunched up, snout extending toward her with wet lips like the slimy sucker on a leach. "Uhh… Tails?"
His lips hovered in mid-air. The fox opened one of his eyes with what appeared to be a great effort and looked at her in sheer panic. "Urr, yuah?" he answered, trying to speak while keeping his mouth puckered like a fish.
"Did … did you have that sour chewing gum again? You're all scrunched up…"
The fox opened both eyes and let them zip around, vainly analyzing the situation. His lips drooped down like a wilting daisy. "Uhh… yeah. Yeah, that's it." He returned to his regular stance, though Amy could have sworn he was quite shorter this time.
"Anyway…" Amy continued, giving Tails a bizarre look. "Things just feel different; it's like we don't even matter to Sonic anymore."
"Amy, you're trying very hard to explain things, but I'm just not understandingggaaAPPP!"
Amy's index finger had zipped right to his lips and was shushing him very personally. "There!" she whispered, as if trying to avoid some spying presence. "Don't you see? We never see Sonic; all we do is spend time with Chris, explaining things to him!" Her face was trembling again.
"And it's changed us Tails. It's changed us. Do you listen to yourself? When … Whenever we talk, all we do is state the obvious, like … like we're trying to simplify things for a really stupid person!
"And then we go away, we lie in our rooms or eat or sleep, and when we come back to see Sonic or Chris, we keep explaining things! It's all we ever do now, Tails; it's like …" she pulled her hair around her cheeks, trying so desperately to find the words. "It's like that's our purpose in life: to explain things and …"
She broke down and fell into his arms, drenching his shoulder with her tears. "It's okay, Amy," he said comfortingly. He gave them some distance and picked up her chin. "Look, crying about this won't help … but … if there's anything ... I could do to … make you feel better … anything, really, well …"
"Tails, your mouth is going all weird again."
The fox dragged his eyes down his snout to look at his pursed lips. "Oh …" he mumbled, causing the squeezed rim of his mouth to melt away. "I … yeah, I guess it was. Heh heh. Weird, isn't it?"
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"I'm sorry to say so, Sonic, but Master Chris' condition has yet to improve."
"You're sure??" Sonic pressed the noble butler. "You're giving him all his medication, right?"
"Every last elixir," Mr. Tanaka confirmed as he adjusted his glasses. "But, you must understand that his recovery will take time, given the severity of his illness."
"But he'll be okay?"
Tanaka frowned and hesitated. "Master Sonic," he began, crouching on his knee so he could address the hedgehog face to face. "This may seem harsh to say so, but Master Chris may never recover to his previous state of health…"
Sonic scowled and backed off. "Yeah right! What do you know anyway, y'quack! He'll make it! You just wait!"
"Your faith is admirable," Tanaka applauded. "But also misguided. Master Sonic, I don't believe you quite understand the extent of the damage suffered to the boy's respiratory system. It is severe and you must accept that he may never heal properly."
The hedgehog was about to snap off some more snide remarks, but the seriousness of the butler's words had struck down his defiance. "It's that bad, is it?" he asked downheartedly.
"Master Sonic, never in my life have I seen a lad develop such a terrible case of a sore throat."
Sonic stifled back something that sounded like tears. "It's my fault," he confessed. "If I hadn't gone and been so reckless around the Egg Emperor … well, Chris never would have screamed so much and he would be okay." He shuddered.
"But he's not, Tanaka. He's not! My gosh, now he could be hoarse for the rest of his life! All the kids would laugh and make fun of him and call him Frog-Throat or Raspy-Randal or Stu-the-Stupid-Voiced-Jerk-Face!"
"It would certainly be an improvement on his current set of aliases."
"It's all my fault," Sonic repeated.
"Try not to be so hard on yourself. Why don't you go and see Chris in his bedroom? He is napping, but I am certain he would be pleased to see you."
Sonic gave a strange twitch and threw a hand over his left ear. "No, sorry Tanaka, but I'd better not." And he bolted down the hallway before the butler could get in another word.
Sonic slammed the door of a random room. He'd hoped to be alone for a while, but there was someone else here in the darkness, her fur coloured a blue similar to his own thanks to the illumination of a television set.
"Oh, hello Mr. Sonic-san," smiled Cream, jarred back to consciousness by the slam of the door. "Did you see Chris yet?"
"Nope, and I ain't going to," Sonic replied, flopping down on the bed along with the rabbit.
"But why is that Mr. Sonic-san?" she asked while flipping channels. "You spent all that time with him last week."
Sonic gave the walls and ceiling a thorough look over. "Cream … can you keep a secret?"
"Nope," she declared. "I'm six years-old and I'm a girl. As soon as you go, I'm gonna go tell Cheese an' Ela an' Amy an' …"
"Well, whatever," Sonic said to shush her. "I gotta get this off my chest and maybe you can help me."
Cream turned away from the TV set and faced him. She was pretty sure that Mr. Sonic was referring to some deep emotional trauma, but for no logical reason (besides the fact that she was a stupid six-year-old) Cream felt a strong and strange compulsion to scan his torso and rip out his fur.
So she did. And Sonic let out a great yeeoOUCH, followed by a calm and cleansing AAHHhhhhh….
"Thanks Cream," he sighed. "It's like a band-aid, and I just don't have the guts to yank 'em off sometimes."
Cream looked at the bundle of torn stomach-fur and noticed the sticky lollipop. "… Eww…"
"Thanks," Sonic grinned, relieving her of the fistful of fur. "I was gonna save it for later but … well, it just wouldn't come out." He gave the candy a big lick before realizing that the gumdrop center was covered in more hair than Eggman's upper lip. Sonic made a sick face and tossed the lollipop away, trying to act as casual as possible as he raked the fur off his tongue.
Cream cleared her voice for attention. "So, um, you needed to talk?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, that." Sonic scooted closer to her and spoke cautiously. "Y'see Cream, the thing is, I was spending a lot of time with Chris, but … I dunno; ever since that thing with Chaos Control … well, funny things have been going on whenever I'm around the kid."
"Really?" Cream exclaimed curiously. "Like what?"
"Well, I…" Sonic broke off and looked to the door, fearing the shadow of someone's boots under the frame. He shuffled even closer to Cream and leaned over carefully, grabbing one of her floppy ears like a Kleenex and whispering into the droopy rag of fur.
"I … I hear voices."
"Voices?" Cream gasped. Her voice was not skeptical or mocking. It was more of an eager curiosity. "What do they say?" she inquired a little quickly.
"Well, it's kind of weird, because there's lots of them: high voices, low voices, girls and guys and they're all talking at once and making all sorts of echoes. And … when I'm with Chris, well, it's like they get so much louder.
"Some of the voices just talk to themselves and say stuff about me like why's he wasting his time with that gimpy dork? Or Oh come on, why isn't he out looking for the chaos emeralds?
"But there's others, and these ones talk at me, and try to make me do things. Some of them say Leave him. Leave the kid. Or Tell the baby to stop whining. There's one, and I'm pretty sure it's a girl, that, whenever I'm with Chris keeps saying Kiss him! Kiss him!
Cream did not seem to doubt him. She just nodded her adorable head at his words and thought about what he said. "And when did they start talking to you, Mr. Sonic-san?"
"Almost right after I pulled that Chaos Control stunt and screwed up our worlds. The girl was going pretty crazy when I gave Chris a friendly hug." He forced a grin over his embarrassed face. "Voices … heh, heh, that must sound really stupid…"
"No it isn't, Mr. Sonic-san," Cream smiled, her face lit up with compassion. "I believe you."
"Re … Really?" He could hardly believe this; here was someone who believed him? Someone putting down the logical assumptions of reality and siding with him? … He had carried this secret guilt for weeks, fearing ridicule if he ever spoke … But, Cream … wow. What faith there was in the heart of a child!
"You really believe me?"
"Of course I do." Cream giggled and leaned in close to his own ear. "I hear them too, Mr. Sonic-san."
Sonic's face drooped as if he had grown fifty years in five seconds.
"They talk to me alllll the time," Cream declared, so happy that she was bouncing on the bed. "They tell me I'm cute an' sweet an' tell me what a pretty bow-tie Cheese has an' I talk to them and we tell stories and stuff! We're best friends!" she declared.
Sonic aged another fifty years: his eyes dropped into his cheeks, his jowls hung in his lap.
Cream pulled at his limp arm with an offering. "C'mon, I'll intraduce ya to them, Mr. Sonic-san!"
"Err, no thanks kiddo, I've got stuff to do."
"Really?" she exclaimed, no less excited than when they first started the conversation. "Like what?"
"Oh … you know, hero stuff."
"You mean like sleeping in a tree or napping on the balcony or daydreaming on the roof?"
"Yeah, yeah that's it."
Cream turned her head. "He's got to go," she whispered to the wall. "M-hmm. M-hmm? Okay, maybe he'll come meet you guys next time. Bye!! Huggles and Kissies!!!"
If ever some sort of lobby group needed a poster-child for the damaging effects of television, Sonic mused, Cream would be number one on the list. He tiptoed out of the room while the rabbit with fewer working brain cells than Roger waved her farewells to the people living in the walls of the Thorndyke clan.
"Don't forget to pick up the phone on the stand outside of the room, Mr. Sonic-san!" Cream called after him.
Sonic had just clicked the door shut and spotted the old fashion phone with the circular numbers you spun to dial. He didn't see much sense in it, but he took the receiver to his ear anyway.
A voice in his ear swore in shock and muttered to itself. "Jeez! I just put in the last number, how'd he do that? … Sonic?"
"Uhh, yeah, that's me," he replied, a little puzzled at the coincidence of his timing.
"Do you know who this is?"
Sonic thought a moment. "Yami Yugi?"
"It's Knuckles!"
"Oh … hey bro, wassup? When did you learn to use a phone?"
"Don't start on the wisecracks, hedgehog. I'm here on business: Dr. Eggman's been spotted."
"You saw him?" Sonic exclaimed.
"No, it was one of the military's secret agents; they wanted me to make the call because I know you."
"Wait, wait, hang on. What are you doing with the military?"
"I'm working with them," Knuckles sneered with more than a touch of resentment. "They agreed to keep their excavation crews off Angel Island in exchange for my services. That, and they promised to send me home."
"Home?" Sonic exclaimed.
"Yes, which is more than you've ever offered me, Bluebell. The military says they're studying how to harness the power of Chaos Control."
"So they're after the emeralds now?"
"They'll be safer in their hands than yours, Mr. Let's-let-Eggman-run-off-with-the-violet-emerald-it's-okay-as-long-as-we-keep-the-stupid-humans-happy."
"You're still sore about that thing with the fire-breathing-mantis? Weazo, was it?"
"That AND the baseball fiasco," Knuckles hissed. "But back to business: Dr. Eggman's ship has been spotted and the military is ordering you to go and stop whatever he's plotting."
"Ordering me???"
"That's right. You're either with us or against us. The top generals even received a personal letter from President Shrub regarding this operation: if you refuse to follow our military hegemony, they have authorization to shoot you on grounds of being insubordinate and unpatriotic."
"Whoa, watch it Knux."
"I'm only the messenger, hedgehog … but that's not to say I don't like the plan…"
"No, I mean watch it. Military hegemony? Unpatriotic? President Shrub, as in foliage? Dude, you're going to turn this fic into an extreme leftist political commentary if you're not careful."
Knuckles growled. "Look, just shut up and take some offensive initiative in stopping Eggman for once."
"Ow! Touché!"
"Now, got a pen? According to our sources, The Doctor is heading towards …"
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"The Station Square Hall of Records," Robotnik announced, having already reached the building long before those military pea-brains estimated.
He strolled down one of the long, tall aisles of oak, some containing files on family genealogies and immigration information; others shelving big, fat historical books about the people and organizations that had built the fair city. His boots clicked as he walked down the dim-lit aisles, speaking to his lackeys working up ahead.
"On the surface, this is merely an aged and dusty museum storing historical data," he commented, pulling a random book of the shelves and skimming the pages as he walked. "But there is more to this facility than meets the eye….
"This is one of several 'Control Centers' placed into our world by those creatures from the external reality. Here, data is collected on the workings of our world and agents may perform routine maintenance or reprogramming where necessary.
"But," he said, snapping the book shut. "What if one of the mindless drones of this planet was to learn the true purpose of this place? What if he was to discover the awesome power hidden within one of these books? What if he was to use that power to alter his existence, to reshape things to his liking?"
"What if," he continued, exiting the aisles and coming into a study area occupied by tables, "What if that man happened to be the world's greatest scientific genius and rightful ruler of this planet? What if that man were…
"Me."
"Well sir," panted the newly restored Bocoe, "I suppose he would go and get that power. But first he would send his ever-faithful, always-loyal minions who live to serve and who really, really love him even though he's not really that nice to them, to do all the hard stuff."
"Correct," Robotnik grinned. "Now move that five-ton crate of books over here!"
Decoe and Bocoe moaned in unison. "Yes sir."
The study area was littered with crates hauled up from the archives in the basement. Torn casings, straw padding and books of all sizes and colours had been thrown about the tables and floor, and still they had not found the right one. Well, it would show up soon. And if Sonic came to stop him, all he had to do was flip through his portable SUPAH-MECHA-MONSTAH-ROLODEX and choose a random grunt to stall the hedgehog.
Decoe and Bocoe went at the latest wooden crate, prying their metal digits under the corners. "Lift with your legs!" Robotnik reminded them. Both muttered something dirty, and continued, making their motors whine until the storage container was above their heads and resting on their hunched backs. They started towards their Master, like slaves carrying great slabs of stone under the hot sun. The analogy did seem a bit ridiculous, if one pondered why the slaves might be carrying great bricks on their back when an easier and time-efficient strategy would be to roll the slabs of stone overtop logs, or, if available, to use much stronger teams of horses, which the slaves could take care of as their duty. It became even stranger when one wondered why exactly the slaves might be moving the logs: was it for the construction of some great shrine, like a pyramid, or was it simply their master's daily exercise in ordering them around pointless manual labor? In fact, the comparison was utterly ridiculous, when examined with a shred of conscious thought, but, for the moment and given the the events, the comparison described the situation passably.
As Bocoe and Decoe labored, the third and lesser-known stooge of their group flew by, laughing like a delighted child.
"Heyyyy Boss!" grinned the little black thing as he hovered in front of Robotnik, thrusting his fists before the Eggman. "Pick a hand!"
The game was more of an exercise in idiocy, since the book hidden in the little robot's left hand was bigger than its entire body. Robotnik looked delighted anyhow, and snatched the aging text from his messanjah-robo.
"At last! We've found it! Come, my minions, gather round and behold the key to our ultimate victory."
Decoe let go of the immensely heavy crate and jogged over to his Lord Robotnik. Bocoe was still underneath. His body jerked down under the added weight and his knees buckled.
"Uhh… little help here?"
With Decoe looking over one shoulder and Little Black Thing over the other, Robotnik raised the old leather-bound book and blew the dust off its jacket. The text reeked of age and the occult; or at least LBT thought so. He had yet to see a movie where a dangerous and evil book was not clasped shut with a golden lock across its front cover. As soon as the dust was off its jacket, the book seemed to glow with a supernatural light, illuminating their awed faces and reflecting off the polished surfaces of their bodies. There was something mysterious and entrapping about this book, he thought; it seemed to consume your entire attention. Not even the sound of a five-ton crate of books flattening a pudgy gray robot could make you look away. Yeah … there was something creepy about this weathered text, and when he'd first spotted it in a musty corner, he'd had some strange, inexplicable feeling that this was the book his Master wanted.
On the cover was a blue emblem of Sonic's head, followed by a big red X.
"Yesss," Robotnik purred. "I finally have the power that will allow me to defeat that interloping hedgehog!"
"Umm, sir, that is wonderful, and we all share your joy," Decoe began. "But, quite frankly we're both still feeling quite clueless as to your plans. We know that you want this book, and that it's going to help you defeat Sonic, but … you still haven't told us what it does! We haven't advanced our position a bit: all you've done is yapped about how you're going to destroy the hedgehog, and you do that every other day!"
His remarks were deserving of a swat from the doctor's large paper fan … No, on second thought, this time he was going to get the big mallet. Yes, right on the noggin. But, instead, his Master only laughed and patted him on his enlarged head.
"Very observant of you, Decoe. You're absolutely right on every account, but you'll have to wait until next time before I reveal just what I'm up to."
And with that, The Doctor placed the book under his arm and strolled for the doors, leaving Decoe, LBT and a two-dimensional Bocoe (who was little more than a googly-eyed skull cap with feet) speechless.
"But why?" Decoe shouted after the diminishing fat man. "Why won't you tell us!?"
"Because," The Doctor grinned as he stopped and looked back, "Nothing crucial to my plan can happen yet. This is a Filler Episode!"
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NEXT TIME: Something important happens. No, really I promise! … Aww, come back, pleaaase?
Hang tight, dear readers! I'll be back before Popcorn from the Green Hill Zone can say, "Sonic Heroes is Lame!"
--Tylec Asroc.