Fairy Tales and Organoids

By volta arovet

Zoids Chaotic Century and Guardian Force do not belong to me, but are property of their respective owners such as Tomy, Hasbro, Pioneer, The Ocean Group, etc.

[I've been working on this story (off-and-on) for almost a year, and I've had this story finished and edited for several months now, but I've just sat on it since then. The story drifted a lot from my original vision, and I was frustrated that, to make flow smoothly, I had to under-emphasize the thing which had been both my inspiration and my main driving force in writing the story. Karl was never meant to have such a big part in the story, and he ends up being the main focus. Poor Thomas. Even in my stories, he gets outshone by his brother. Also, there are several major flaws in Prozen's argument. Figure them out yourself. I'm not going to tell you what they are unless you ask me. I'm just assuring you that they do indeed exist.]

Thomas is 7-8, Karl is 12-13. Everything about their childhood and parents is entirely speculation, albeit carefully planned and analyzed speculation. And then I just made stuff up.

[I apologize for any spelling mistakes during Thomas' dialogue. At the moment, my spellcheck hates Thomas. You'll see why.]

Fairy Tales and Organoids

By volta arovet

"Your arrival was unexpected, Major Prozen," Anatalia Schubaltz said as she settled herself into a sitting chair, carefully arranging her full skirts so they fell properly about her legs, "but certainly not unwelcome. Please, make yourself at home."

Prozen smiled gently, removing his cloak and hanging it on the elegant coat stand by the door. Several raindrops slid off it and sunk soundlessly into the thick carpet. "I'm very glad to hear that. I only wish my visit could have been made under happier circumstances."

To her credit, Anatalia's light green eyes remained dry and clear. "Thank you. I've found that meeting with the people who knew Dieter…it makes it a little easier."

Prozen nodded as he sat in the chair across from her. "Commander Schubaltz was a great man."

"Thank you."

A boy entered the room carefully balancing a silver tea set on a crystal tray. His socks padded softly on the carpeted floor. Anatalia stood and motioned between the two men. "Gunther, this is—"

"Karl," Prozen finished for her. "Who else could this be but Karl Lichen Schubaltz?" He turned to Anatalia. "He greatly resembles Commander Schubaltz, except he has your eyes." He turned back to Karl. "Commander Schubaltz would often speak of you, and always fondly. He was very proud." Prozen offered Karl his hand. "I am Major Prozen. I served under your father for two years."

Karl took his time setting down the tray before finally taking Prozen's hand. "Father spoke of you as well," he said, not mentioning if Dieter's words had been favorable or not. "Tea?"

"Yes, thank you." Karl poured a cup and passed it to the major, then poured another one for his mother. "The last I heard you were applying for Emory Preparatory School. Have you received word from them?"

Karl kept his eyes on the tea set. "Yes, I'll be attending there next fall."

"What excellent news! You may not know this, but I attended that school as well. Many of the highest ranked officers have come from Emory Prep." Karl remained expressionless: polite but distant. He offered Prozen some sugar, who waved it away. Prozen cleared his throat and continued, leaning in closer as if to share a secret. "This is a very exciting time for the Empire's military. They say that within five or ten years we will finally launch an offensive to take care of the rebel threat once and for all. If you work hard, perhaps you will have the honor of being on the front lines."

Karl's eyes darkened. "Sugar, mother?" he offered.

"Please." Her eyes were equally dark.

Prozen leaned back in his chair. "You seem somewhat less enthused than I expected, Karl," he remarked dryly. "One would think you didn't support our country's security."

"The boy's just tired," Anatalia explained. "We've already passed the time he should be in bed," she said with a soothing, indulgent smile. "Now, Gunther, I'd love to hear how you—"

"You're wrong!" Karl blurted out.

"Karl!" Anatalia admonished

"It's not 'security' if you just go out and kill people! The military shouldn't attack people," Karl rushed on, "it should protect them! Armies should protect the peace, not go out and kill thousands of people! It's wrong!"

"Karl, where are your manners? Apologize to Major Prozen!" Anatalia scolded, rising from her seat.

"It's all right, Anatalia," Prozen said smoothly, completely unfazed by Karl's outburst. Anatalia sat back down, but kept herself balanced on the edge of her seat. "Tell me, Karl, do you believe that the citizens of the Empire should be protected?"

"Yes," the boy answered strongly.

"Do you believe that someone who harms an innocent citizen should be punished?" Prozen asked.

"Of course," Karl answered, unsure of where Prozen was going with this.

"If you saw a person hurting another person, would you try to stop him?"

"Yes."

"And if you knew that someone was planning to harm an innocent citizen, but hadn't taken any action yet, would you still try to stop him?"

"…Yes," Karl answered slowly. He saw what Prozen was leading to, but couldn't think of a good counter argument. His eyes narrowed, dark eyelashes obscuring his angry green eyes. "But I wouldn't try to kill him!" he added.

Prozen ignored his last statement. "Then wouldn't you also agree that it would be best to take steps against the rebels now, before they kill any more citizens or soldiers?"

Karl's mouth pressed into a stubborn, thin line.

"Soldiers such as your father?"

Anatalia gasped, drawing her hand gracefully to her mouth. "Gunther, that was uncalled for. These past two months have been extremely trying, especially on my children, and I would thank you to—"

"I apologize, Anatalia. You're absolutely right, I should not have said that. I just wanted Karl to understand that our military offensive will be a peacekeeping act, not an act of aggression," Prozen explained.

"But they weren't rebels," Karl protested, a bit sullenly. "They were bandits and they were caught."

"Karl…" Prozen said kindly, setting down his tea and leaning forward so he could look into Karl's face, "they were rebel sympathizers. They were acting as bandits to support the rebels' cause. You must understand that these rebels, no, the vast majority of the people in the so-called 'Republic' have been taught from birth to hate the Guylos Empire. If we allow this to continue, they will soon launch an attack against us. If we act first, then once the rebels have been dealt with we can unite the entire continent under one peaceful leadership. Don't you see? The whole purpose of an offensive is to gain peace and save countless lives." Prozen smiled beatifically, having made his point.

Karl closed his eyes and shook his head. "I don't—"

"Oh no!" a youthful voice cried out from up above them. All three heads jerked to attention to see a little silver device roll down the stairs. A loud noise reminiscent of a buffalo stampede followed quickly as a young boy stomped his barefoot way down the hardwood floor. "Get back here, you!" he shouted at it, almost tripping over the too-long cuffs on his pajama bottoms.

"What in the—?" Prozen asked.

"Oh, dear," Anatalia sighed.

"Oh, brother," Karl groaned.

"Gotcha!" the boy cheered as he pounced on the toy, sticking his rump into the air and obscuring his face with a mess of fuzzy blond hair. Anatalia pointedly cleared her throat. The boy looked up, and two bright green eyes finally noticed the three older people looking down on him. "Uh oh."

" 'Uh oh' is right, mister," Anatalia said sternly, though there was a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. The boy squeaked and dashed to Karl's side, clutching onto his shirt.

Prozen knelt down in front of the boy. "And who do we have here?" he mused, a smile on his face. He held out his hand. "My name is Major Prozen. And you are?"

The boy buried his face in Karl's side. Prozen blinked.

Karl nudged the boy. "Introduce yourself," he prompted. The boy shook his head, still managing to hide his face in Karl's shirt. "Come on," Karl whispered.

"Kar-rul!" the boy whined, the fabric muffling the sound.

Anatalia stepped forward. "This is Thomas, my youngest son. Thomas, say hello to the major."

Thomas reluctantly turned his face away from Karl. "'lo," he mumbled, keeping his lips pressed together as much as possible.

"It's very nice to meet you, Thomas," Prozen said seriously, then smiled. "Look at those big green eyes," he cooed. "In a few years you'll be breaking all the girls' hearts just like your brother, won't you?"

Thomas laughed delightedly, revealing a large gap where his two front teeth should have been. He immediately covered his mouth with both hands and hid his face in Karl's shirt once again, blushing profusely.

"Thomas, why aren't you in bed?" Anatalia asked in that strange stern-yet-gentle tone only experienced mothers can manage. Prozen moved aside, giving her room to bend in front of Thomas.

"Couldn't thleep," Thomas murmured into Karl's shirt.

"Did you try?" she asked patiently, lightly grasping Thomas' chin and turning his face away from Karl's shirt.

Thomas nodded. "Uh-huh. Had a bad dream. Papa wath…Papa…" Thomas broke off his words. He sniffled a little and rubbed his nose with the cuff of his too-long sleeves. Anatalia's eyes shone more brightly for a moment. To his credit, Prozen pretended not to notice the tears.

Anatalia ran her free hand through her little boy's tangled mess of hair. "It's all right now, Thomas, it's all over," she said, planting a soft kiss on the middle of his forehead. "Do you think you can go to bed now?" Thomas nodded his head mutely. "And if you have another bad dream, you come right down here, okay? No playing with your machines." Thomas nodded again. "Good boy," she said, and kissed his forehead again. She shifted her gaze to the right. "Karl, would you…"

"I don't mind," Karl said quietly, putting an arm around Thomas' shoulder and steering the little one toward the staircase.

"Thank you. Good night, Karl, Thomas," Anatalia said, moving to regain her proper place in her chair.

"'night, Mama," Thomas replied.

"It was nice meeting you boys," Prozen said.

A toneless "Hm" was Karl's only answer.

Prozen frowned and pursed his lips. "I hope you think about what we've discussed, Karl."

"I will. Come on, Thomas, let's get you to bed," Karl said wearily, turning his back to the adults. Thomas padded softly up the stairs, two steps ahead of his brother but already starting to slow.

"'kay," he mumbled, only half-listening to Karl. He was fiddling with the runaway toy again. They reached the top of the stairs and headed down the hallway. Thomas stumbled when he stepped on his pant leg, but his interest in the device never faltered.

"What's that you've got?" Karl asked, keeping one arm positioned behind Thomas' back. He wanted to be prepared for the inevitable fall Thomas would take if he didn't start paying attention to where he was going.

"It'th my Command Wolf," Thomas said, holding it up in the air. "I fikthed it."

"You know, the last time you 'fixed it' it stopped working," Karl pointed out, already knowing the reaction he'd get and preparing himself for the onslaught of lisped words.

Thomas pouted. "It worked," he insisted. "It'th jutht that the cathing prethed againtht one of the gearth. It wath a mechanical problem due to the cheap part'th the manufacturer uthed and had nothing to do with what I did. The new motor worked jutht fine."

Thomas tripped over his pant legs, but Karl grabbed the back of his shirt and kept him upright.

"Thankth," Thomas said, never missing a beat. "Thith time, I put the legth' thtabilitherth on the out-thide of the cathing and fed their wireth through a new thlot I put in the knee…" Thomas continued talking, but Karl tuned him out, eyes becoming distant as he struggled to hear the conversation the adults were holding.

Vaguely, Major Prozen's voice could be heard drifting up the stairs. "…worry, Anatalia. Karl will soon grow out of this phase and learn how things truly work in this world. I am certain that his teachers will set him straight, and one day he will become a highly decorated soldier…"

Karl froze where he was. His hands closed into fists at his sides, fingernails digging into his palms. His jaw was clenched tightly shut and his lips thinned to the point where they could hardly be seen.

Thomas walked on, oblivious. "…and with the new bearingth I added in each of the joint'th, thith Command Wolf can run five timeth fathter than any other oneth of thith model. Only, I didn't ekthpect it to go that fatht, which ith why it kind of got away from me, and I…Karl?"

Karl glared ahead, unseeing. His breathing was heavy, and each exhalation was slightly audible, as if he were restraining a growl.

"Karl?"

The dull thud of the Command Wolf dropping to the floor didn't wake Karl from his preoccupation, but a soft noise, like a muffled hiccup, broke through the roaring storm of Karl's thoughts. Another hiccup, then a sniffle, then the sound of fabric rubbing against skin, and Karl realized that his brother was crying. His eyes softened and his lips lost that hard line.

"Oh, Thomas, what's wrong?" Karl asked soothingly. This only made Thomas cry harder.

"I'm-I'm-I'm thorry!" Thomas choked out, and rubbed his eyes roughly with the cuff of his sleeve.

Karl spread his arms out and half-smiled. Thomas rushed forward and threw his arms tightly around Karl. The tips of his spiky hair barely grazed Karl's chin. Karl rubbed Thomas' back. "Sorry for what?" he whispered, rocking Thomas back and forth.

"I let the Command Wolf get away from me and embarrathed uth in front of Major Prothen and Mama made you leave tho you could put me to bed and now you're mad at me and it'th all my fault and I'm thorry, Karl!" Thomas wailed into Karl's shirt.

"Shhhh….I'm not mad at you, Thomas."

"You're not?" Thomas looked up, directly into Karl's eyes. "Then how come you were tho thcary-looking?"

"No, I'm not mad at you. I was just mad at Major Prozen…and myself," he added upon reflection.

Thomas' brow wrinkled. "How come?"

Karl sighed. He hardly understood why himself. "Have you ever known that someone was wrong, but just couldn't figure out why they're wrong?" Karl finally asked. "Or maybe you think there's a better way to do something, but you just can't figure out how? And you try to tell people this, but they don't even bother listening to you because you're just a kid? Even though you know you're right?"

Thomas scrunched up his nose, and eventually nodded his head. "Kinda."

"Well, that's sort of how I feel about some of the things Major Prozen said to me," Karl explained, and loosened his arms around Thomas. "Now, no more distractions. Let's get you to bed, all right?"

"'kay," Thomas said, bouncing backwards and picking up his toy from where he had dropped it. He had that admirable talent most children his age possess—the ability to change emotions as easily as changing one's socks. "Read me a thtory?"

Karl groaned. "I said 'no more dis…'" Thomas looked up at Karl, bright green eyes shining with hope, and Karl idly reflected that Prozen was probably right in one respect—with eyes like that, Thomas probably would be a real heart-breaker in about five years. Karl relented. "Fine. A short one. Hop into bed, I'll be back in a minute."

Thomas bounded into his room as Karl walked more sedately to his own. The elder brother glanced over his bookshelf before changing his mind and pulling a few loose sheets of paper from a satchel.

Karl stepped into Thomas' room and headed for the bed, cautiously following a twisting path around the various piles of stuff covering the floor. Thomas had claimed one side of the bed; the covers were still thrown back and he was simply beaming at his older brother. Karl made an effort to ignore how that smile faded when he sat in a nearby chair. " 'Once upon a time—' "

"Karl?" Karl looked up from the sheets of paper to see his brother staring imploringly at him. "Can I, can I read it too? Over your shoulder?" Karl internally reflected that his brother was incredibly transparent sometimes. Wordlessly, he toed off his shoes, stood up, leaned over, and tucked the covers around Thomas before lying down on top of the sheets next to him. It took a bit of maneuvering, but eventually they managed a comfortable position.

"Happy now?"

"Yup!"

Karl rustled the papers a bit, making sure they were still in the right order, then began to read. " 'Once upon a time, many years before today—hundreds of years before humans first arrived on Zi—three ancient lifeforms ruled the planet.

" 'The first of these were the ancient Zoidians, a race very similar to humans. In fact, if you did not know any better, you would not be able to tell that they weren't human. The only differences between ancient Zoidians and modern humans are their bright, jewel-like eyes and the colorful markings on their faces.'"

Thomas twisted around under the covers so he could look his brother in the face. "But Karl: Nichlauth and Rebecca and Major Prothen all have markth on their fatheth. They're not anthient Thoidianth, are they?"

Karl smiled. "If they are, no one's told me, so I don't think so. I'm pretty sure they're normal humans, just like us."

"Oh." Thomas looked serious for a moment, but that was only temporary. A bright, excited expression crossed his face. "But wouldn't it be neat if they were?"

Karl's smile widened, and he rubbed Thomas' fuzzy head. "Yes, it would be neat," he agreed happily. "Now, do you want to get back to the story?"

Thomas looked like he wanted to keep talking with Karl, but decided that it was better to just agree with his brother. He nodded his head mutely.

"Okay." Karl cleared his throat. " 'The only differences between ancient Zoidians and modern humans are their bright, jewel-like eyes and the colorful markings on their faces. It is said that the ancestors of the ancient Zoidians stole magical gems from the heart of Zi and bound them to their own hearts, giving them long lives, marked faces, and small magical powers as well.

" 'The second of the lifeforms to rule planet Zi were the zoids, a race of large mechanical beings. Unlike other machines, however, these creatures were alive. They lived like tamed animals, working for the ancient Zoidians in exchange for protection and care. It is said that the zoids were originally unthinking machines until one day when ancient Zoidians took some of the larger, yet poorer quality, stolen gems and bound them to the machines, giving them hearts, and giving them life.'"

"The thoid coreth!" Thomas exclaimed.

"You're probably right," Karl said, teasing lightly, "but remember that this is just a fairy tale. Don't tell your Doc that zoids are alive because of magical gems."

"I know," Thomas whined. "Doc ecthplained to me about the thybernetic net'th coupled to the pothitronic network inthide the thoid core'th power thellth. I'm not thtupid."

Karl burst out laughing.

"What?"

"I agree, Thomas. If you understood half of what you just said, you're certainly not stupid."

"Thankth," Thomas said, and snuggled in closer to Karl, focusing his attention back on the printed pages.

" 'The third of the lifeforms to rule planet Zi were not truly organic like the ancient Zoidians, nor were they fully mechanical like the zoids. They were the organoids: the organic zoids. They were living machines which possessed the power to fuse with a zoid and control it. It is said that the ancient Zoidians had their own heart gems split in half, sharing them with the organoid. For each Zoidian born, an organoid was also born. They were always together, for only when they were together were their hearts complete. However, the organoids did not come into existence for a long time, not until a lonely boy faced a monstrous beast and changed everything.

" 'Since the beginning of their civilization, ancient Zoidians and zoids lived together in harmony. Life on Zi progressed peacefully for many, many years. However, things do not always go the way they should, and one day something happened that no one expected: a boy was born with only half of a heart gem. The people of the village searched everywhere for a whole heart gem, but the entrance to the heart of Zi had long been lost. They asked the people of the neighboring village to search, and they in turn asked their own neighbors, until the entire country was searching for the entrance. They searched the mountains and the valleys and the forests and the plains, but they could neither find a gem for the boy nor the entrance to the sacred holding place.

" 'Sadly, the ancient Zoidians eventually gave up the search and began waiting for the child to die, for who could live with half a heart? They had never heard of anyone living without a heart gem, and if a person's gem were damaged, their death would soon follow.' "

Karl glanced down at his little brother and noticed the sad expression on his face. Karl gave his shoulder a little squeeze, then turned back to the book.

" 'And yet, the boy did not die. Every day he grew a little bigger, and a little older, and a little sadder. Something was not quite right with him. His eyes were green, like his mother's, but while hers were shining emeralds, his were flat and shadowed like unpolished jade. His left cheek was marked with a red bar, like his father's, but while his father's mark was thick and strong, his was only the thinnest of lines tracing the shortest of paths beneath his eye. His lips were soft and rosy, like his older brother's, but he rarely spoke and never smiled.

" 'Many times, the boy's brother found him staring off into space, as if he were trying to focus his eyes on something just out of sight. "What are you doing?" the brother would ask.

" ' "Waiting," the boy would answer in a distant voice.' "

"Waiting for what?" Thomas interrupted

"Shhh, you'll find out. ' "Waiting for what?" his brother would always ask, but the boy would only shrug his shoulders and turn away. He didn't know what was missing; he only knew that he wanted it more than anything in the world.

" 'The boy never spent much time with the other children; he preferred the company of zoids. One can not count the number of nights his parents had to go out searching for him, frightened that something might have happened to him, only to find him asleep, curled up on a Helcat's paw or lightly cradled by a Pteramander's tail. Some of the villagers said he knew how to speak with the zoids. Some of the villagers said that he had a connection with the zoids because they shared the same sort of imperfect heart gems. The crueler villagers said that he spent his time with the zoids because they were as cold and unfeeling as he. Whenever his parents asked him why he spent so much time with the zoids, he would just shrug his shoulders and look away. He didn't know why. He just did.

" 'Peaceful times do not always last, and one day a terrible misfortune came across the land. A wild zoid, violent and strong, came roaring out of the dark forests. It tore through the villages, frightening the Zoidians and leveling their homes. The Zoidians tried to fight the beast, but their zoids would always refuse to battle, and in those days there were no controls to restrain them. The zoids would bow down to the wild one as if it were their king. The Zoidians had no choice but to run.

" 'Village after village fell to the beast. The few Zoidians willing to face the wild zoid said that their attacks merely bounced off its shields. If they got too close, the beast would lean down next to them until its glowing eyes could glare directly into theirs, and they would be so stricken with fear that they would be unable to run. Then the wild one would growl, a deep rumbling sound from its very core, and the Zoidians would discover that they could run and they did run. Not one Zoidian was brave enough to face the beast after hearing its growl.

" 'The beast rampaged across the country, eventually arriving at the boy's village. Everyone in the village had already run away—everyone but the boy and his family. The boy stayed behind because he had taken shelter with his zoids, and his family stayed behind because they couldn't abandon the boy.

" 'Cowering in fear, the family remained hidden in the barn, listening to the sounds of destruction coming from the village, wondering when the beast would decide to attack where they were hiding. Closer and closer the terrible sounds came, until finally the beast was right outside. With a shriek of twisted metal, the door was wrenched from its hinges. The beast stood before them, terrible in its untamed fury.

" 'The zoids bowed before their lord, humbly backing away and revealing the hiding family. They saw their doom written in the beast's eyes, and they knew that they faced their end.' "

Karl paused as he felt a shudder go through Thomas' body. A brief flash of guilt hit him. "Sorry, Thomas. I didn't think the story would get this scary. Do you want me to stop?"

Thomas shook his head vehemently. "If you thtop now, then we won't get to hear the ending."

"What if the ending isn't happy?" Karl asked quietly.

"It hath to be," Thomas said firmly. "At leatht, right now there'th a chanth that it'll be a happy ending. We can't jutht thtop becauth it'th thcary."

Karl was slightly surprised and rather pleased. He smiled fondly at Thomas. "That's a really good philosophy, Thomas. How'd you get so smart?"

Thomas beamed back, basking in the praise like a flower in the sunshine. "Gueth it jutht runth in the family, huh Karl?"

Karl snorted and Thomas preened. No one could make Karl laugh as much as he could!

" 'The boy pulled away from his family and walked to the monster. He showed no trace of fear as the beast lowered its head to look him in the eye. Instead of running in terror, the boy reached out and placed his palm on the wild one's cheek. He said one word: "Stop." The beast peered at him and slowly nodded its head, settling down onto the ground. The boy spoke again. "You don't have to do this anymore. I'm here now. Let me help you."

" 'With a bright flash of light, the boy lifted into the air and disappeared into the beast's cockpit. His parents cried because they feared they had lost their son. The light expanded until the beast was bathed in the bright white light. It burned brighter and brighter, hotter and hotter, until it suddenly began to shrink down to a tiny ball, focused at the beast's heart. The miniature star burst out of the beast and landed at its feet.

" 'As the light faded, the family gasped, for they saw—not ashes or the lost boy—but a small reptilian animal made of shining silver metal. It was the first organoid. Its bright green eyes glowed dimly, and it seemed to smile as it approached the family.

" ' "But what of our son?" the mother asked in desperation, breaking the silence.

" 'In response, the organoid roared loudly, stretching its arms out as far as they could reach. A large panel opened up in its chest, and out of it stepped a boy. But was it the same boy who had first entered the now peaceful beast?

" 'His eyes were still green, that was true, but instead of resembling unpolished jade, they now sparkled as brightly as the finest peridot.'"

"What'th peridot?" Thomas interrupted, his quest for knowledge overriding his awe and respect for the climax of the story.

"It's a kind of light green gemstone," Karl answered. "Now hush, we're almost at the end."

" '...sparkled as brightly as the finest peridot. He retained the red mark under his eye, but another line had been added to it. The first line was level and straight, but the new line traveled from the first to point toward his heart. Most unusual of all was his expression. For the first time in his life, the boy was wearing a genuine smile, for at long last he had found the missing half of his heart.

" 'THE END.' "

Karl and Thomas enjoyed a brief silence, which was ultimately broken by Thomas' happy sigh.

"That...wath a good thtory." He scrunched up his nose a little. "Even if they didn't ekthplain how any of the other Anthient Thoidianth got organoidth."

Karl shrugged and folded up the papers he had been reading off of. "It was all right, even with the plot holes. It's not a real fairytale, you know."

Thomas scoffed in the way that only a 7-year-old can scoff. "I know that fairytaleth aren't real. Geeth, do I look thtupid or thomething? I mean, I know I thound thtupid, but you don't have to treat me like I'm thome dumb baby."

Karl grit his teeth. This was not the first time he had heard this complaint. It wasn't even the hundredth time he'd heard this complaint. "I know you're not stupid, Thomas, and I'm sure your lisp will go away once your front teeth grow in."

"Here'th hoping," Thomas grumbled.

"Anyway, what I meant to say is that it's not a genuine fairytale. It's just something my English teacher made up so she could ask us questions about stuff we've been working on. You now, like..." he flipped the packet of papers to the back page, " 'Find two examples of simile and explain their significance to the story,' or, 'Why do you believe the organoid inside the beast Zoid caused the beast to become violent?' Things like that."

"But it wathn't in the beatht then!" Thomas exclaimed.

Karl's brow wrinkled. "What do you mean? Of course it was inside the beast."

"Nuh-uh!"

Karl sighed at Thomas' insistence. "Then where did the organoid come from?" he prompted.

"The boy made it!" Thomas said, and nodded his head proudly to end all discussion.

Karl raised an eyebrow. "He...made it?"

"Yup. The way I figure it, the beatht had too big a heart crythtal—way too much power, and that can really meth up a machine'th thythtemth."

"As you've learned from experience, right?" Karl pointed out with a smirk. Thomas ignored his brother's slight on his mechanical skills and tendency to overpower his toys. He was on a roll.

"And for biological thythtemth, a power shock can be really painful."

"As you've also learned from experience." Karl had lost track of how many times Thomas had shocked himself on his machinery.

Thomas huffed. "Are you going to make fun, or are you going to let me finith?"

"Sorry, sorry."

"Tho like I wath thaying, the beatht wath going bertherk, and it wath in a pretty bad mood becauth of the pain, tho when the boy entered the beatht he thaw that there wath an ekthtra part of a heart crythtal there, which he needed, and thinth it wath hurting the beatht, the boy wath thmart and took it out of the beatht and put it into a thafe new body, and that'th where the firtht organoid came from!" Thomas gave a sharp look at Karl, daring him to find fault with his explanation.

"You know..." Karl said slowly, "that's a pretty good theory. I never would've thought of it on my own. Do you mind if I use it in my homework?"

Thomas' answer was a big bear hug.

"Whoa! Easy there, Thomas. If you keep getting this excited, I won't let you do my homework for me," Karl teased.

"Ha ha. Like you don't alwayth get everything right by yourthelf, mithter perfect," Thomas said, and snuggled in a little closer.

Karl sighed. "I'm not perfect, Thomas."

"You're not?"

"No." Karl was firm.

"Hm. Clothe enough."

"I'm not. Too many things I...I don't...I just can't figure some things out. I don't know, maybe I'm not as right as I thought I was. Maybe Prozen's right, and I'm just some kid who's trying to act like an adult. Maybe I don't really know what I'm talking about. Maybe I've always been wrong about everything. I mean, look at me. In a few months I'm going to military school, and I hate war and killing and everything that goes with it. I hate it. I just...I just sometimes feel so tired, Thomas."

"It'll be okay," came a soft reply.

"How do you know?" Karl was surprisingly bitter—or perhaps, after the strain of the past few months, it wasn't so surprising.

Thomas already had an answer prepared. "Becauth you're Karl." The younger sibling took that opportunity to rub Karl's head. His hair was less fuzzy and petable than Thomas', but it was still fun to reverse the roles and muss up the elder brother's hair for a change. "'Thideth, even if you can't figure out why thomeone'th wrong doethn't mean they're not wrong."

Karl smiled slightly. "Thanks, Thomas. I needed that vote of confidence." He cleared his throat—for some reason he was feeling a little hoarse. "And now it's way past your bedtime. You should go to sleep." He tried to remove himself from Thomas' embrace. "Let go, you little leech."

"No," Thomas said, and secured his grip on Karl's shirt. He wasn't going down without a fight.

"Thomas..."

"Don't-want-to-can't-make-me," Thomas protested.

"You promised you'd go to bed after I read you a story," Karl reminded him.

"I lied." He grinned up at his big brother and saw danger written in those eyes. That was the only warning he got before Karl slid off the bed, stood up (with Thomas still hanging onto him, of course), grabbed Thomas' wrists, and tossed him over his shoulder, neatly breaking his grip and landing him on the bed. Thomas laughed at Karl's display of judo. "Do that again!"

Karl loomed over him and pointed a finger at Thomas' nose. "No. Sleep."

"Fine." Thomas sulked for about ten seconds—the time it took Karl to reach the doorway.

"'Night, Karl!"

"Good night, Thomas."

"Hey, Karl!"

"Yes, Thomas?"

"I've dethided what I'm going to do when I grow up! I'm going to build a—"

"You can tell me all about it in the morning." Karl knew that if he didn't stop Thomas now, he wouldn't get to bed for another hour.

"Hey, Karl?"

"Yes?"

"Love you."

"You too."

"Hey, Karl?"

"Good night, Thomas."

"Oh. Right. Good night, Karl."

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