Chapter 30: The Inner Circle
Perspective: Steve
"Steve, some soup from the canteen," Jennifer prompted.
Steve looked up with pleading eyes. He couldn't eat at a time like this. He couldn't drink. He couldn't sleep. He didn't understand how anyone could do anything.
Fristad was dead, and Fire was on his way to join him. Their only option was effectively busywork carried out in the hope that maybe, by some unlikely chance, they would stumble across the Entity's weakness and be able to exploit it in time to stop his machine. The universe itself was dying, and he didn't see how anything he did could shape that.
But then his eyes met Jennifer's, and he saw the concern in her eyes, and he took the bowl for her sake. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up.
He took a spoonful and it reminded him of the soup he'd shared with Fristad on the day the Prophet came back.
"It tastes great," he lied.
He felt ill.
"Steve, we've got to keep fighting," Jennifer told him. "Just like we did against the undead army, against Drake and against Herobrine. The bodies kept piling up then, they're going to keep piling up now unless we act."
"And suppose I don't want to be part of that cycle anymore?" Steve seethed. "Suppose we succeed, we kill the Entity? What then? Wait until the next bad guy shows up? Another lull of a few weeks before I'm put through the Nether all over again?"
"Steve-" Jennifer sighed, obviously disappointed, but Steve needed to yell at someone, and she was there. Consequence be damned.
"Why is it always my job to fix everything?"
"Steve, listen-"
"No, Jen, you listen! I put so much work into being nice old Steve - great hero, perfect boyfriend - and all I get is people like you condescending to me. You think I'm an idiot."
He saw her with her eyes closed and lips pursed, breathing angrily through her nose. He relented. "Okay - okay! I'm sorry, I'm being a jerk. I blew up and that was wrong, but don't you see what I'm saying-"
"Steve," she grimaced. "We have a visitor."
She grunted and gestured over to the door. Kay stood there, making a show of pretending to read the Book and not notice what was going on. He felt ashamed.
"Steve," he said. "I'd like to talk to you alone."
Steve let his eyes sink, nodding as he did so. He muttered, "I'm sorry" and followed Kay. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Jennifer brushing her red hair out of her eyes and set about rearranging the bed.
There was so much more he should have said to her: "You absolutely are right. We have to keep fighting." "I shouldn't be talking to you like you haven't been through all this too. As though you weren't there from the second, I called on you." "As though I'm the only one it affects." "I love you." "I don't want to lose you." "I am afraid, but we are here." All these would have been good. He resolved to say at least one the second he came back.
Kay drew him out into the hallway and started marching off briskly, and Steve's mind immediately switched lanes from guilt to accusation. Kay's stupid plan had killed Fristad, and he was going to get a piece of his mind. And now Kay was going to lord Steve's frailty over him, scold him or something stupid. Use it as an opportunity to stomp down the opposition. He had already taken advantage of him needing a moment to canvas half the group, Jennifer included.
"Thank you for coming with me," he said. "I understand that was not the best moment, but it's a situation of some urgency. I have much to say to you-"
"-Yeah, and I have a lot to say to you, asshole!" Steve barked, skipping over the slow rise Kay obviously hoped to establish. He wouldn't get the rhythm he wanted to his reprimand.
"Very well," he conceded, hanging his head. "Say it, if you must."
This stopped Steve for a second. He had expected Kay to shout back. Maybe this was a trap, but he decided to resume his shouting. He weighed his words, and then began to tear into him.
"You're loving this, aren't you? Fire gone, Fristad dead, Shadow and I falling apart in all of the craziness? This is your fantasy."
"Care to back that up, Steve?" Kay growled.
"Yeah! I think I will," he pressed. "This is your fantasy because you hated Fire. You were supposed to be the Prophet's champion and you got passed over because Fire was better, stronger and kinder than you without even trying. You hated Fristad because he reminded you of how weak you are. He reminds you of when you were just going to work with the Entity because you were too much of a coward to fight him-"
"-I didn't know he was a threat."
"You didn't know because you didn't want to see! You tried to side with the Entity and only turned on him when you realised your friend was in danger. You pressed this dumb 'lead from the front' style of leadership just because you were bitter about losing the election and wanted to reassure yourself you were still 'really in charge' or something. And the way you treated Fristad was just despicable! First you ostracise him for turning into an enderman, then you profited from the Dreamweaver thing, forming an alliance with the creature that tormented him for months! And now, because of your plan, he's dead!"
Kay was silent. The redstone lamp overhead flickered a little, and made Kay's features appear to move in subtle, incremental twitches Steve couldn't be sure had really happened.
"Yeah, Glibby dealt the punch but your decision to leave two kids and a shepherd in charge of the most important strategic target of the raid is what killed him. I know you want us all to just forget about that and every other sucky thing you've done since arriving here, but I won't. There is blood on your hands, and I am not letting you just dance off to your next screw-up with a big speech and a fake accent."
Silence followed Steve's outburst. Then, that silence lingered. Then, Kay said "Steve" and cut himself off.
"Steve," he said, in a brogue the young Brine had only heard him slip into during fleeting peaks of joy and momentary troughs of anger. "You're right."
"I'm what?"
"You're right. As much as I try to posture like one, I'm not a hero like you. I'm just a soldier, and a mercenary one at that. I'm opportunistic, I'm short-sighted, I'm arrogant. I try to move on quickly from my mistakes, so no one notices them. I treated Fire like trash. And, above all, Fristad's death is on my hands. I should have listened to you. We have an army, and it's time to use it. I want you to lead the vanguard, and I want you to help me plan this."
"Oh… what about Jennifer?"
"Steve, Jennifer is fantastic. She's level-headed and she's kind. But she's not what I need at the top table. I need the guy who killed the Wither, the Ender Dragon and Herobrine. Are you still that guy?"
Steve paused.
"Yes."
"Then come with me."
One short, silent walk later, Kay and Steve entered the command room. A small cabal was gathered. Astro and Tyron whispered by the furnace and stopped abruptly as Steve entered. Destiny sat at the table, poring over maps. Rose stood over in the corner, throwing knives at a bullseye.
"No Warnado?" Steve asked, genuinely surprised.
Kay looked back sadly:
"Like you said, he's only a kid."
Kay walked into the centre of the room.
"Time to plan our reckoning. Who wants to go first?"
