Only Shadows Ahead

Chapter Twenty-One

Bleak hung around for a while after Blondie's hasty departure, watching on as the remaining Planet-Pests began to self-implode. An argument was brewing between the two eldest Planeteers — not that Firebug seemed in the mood for it.

The two were in the middle of a tense conversation. Bleak was unable to hear the specifics; however Red's body language was defensive. Arms crossed in a display of defiance, eyes narrowed as the Earth guy spoke in urgent tones.

Bleak was the first to admit: he was a little perplexed by Red's demeanour. Familiarity breeds contempt — and the animosity between himself and the Fire Planeteer in the past had been more than mutual. The American kid had a short temper and a smart mouth. He had a well-proven track record of knowing exactly how to push Bleak's buttons.

But eleven years had obviously changed him. The bravado and swagger were gone: replaced by a grim sense of defeat. The motor-mouth Bleak knew from the past had become too darn quiet for his liking.

Bleak watched him turn and stalk away mid-sentence. The Earth dude charged off after him and they disappeared into another part of the house.

Kid's gone weird.

The other girl remained on the armchair; her cheek pressed against the backrest with her eyes closed. Bleak knew she wasn't asleep — her fingers were slowly clenching and unclenching against the armrest.

He chatted to the Heart Planeteer for a while, gathering some information before breaking away. Intent on exploring.

Taking the winding staircase two steps at a time, he reached the landing and wandered through the upstairs area, scrutinising the family photos lining the walls — a typical nuclear family with three children.

Bleak checked out the cinema room next; sitting in one of eight plush, red leather seats arranged in two rows of four — staring at the blank wall in front. Practicing his 'quick-draw' recliner motion using the lever on the side.

He poked around the main bedroom. Tested the flexibility of the king-sized bed. Grabbed some clothes from the walk-in robe to change into. Pocketed a necklace he found hanging over the corner of a mirror before moving on.

It hadn't taken Bleak long to come across her. Upon entering the nursery, he'd spotted the tell-tale blonde highlights by the window. She was seated on the floor — hunched over, her arms wrapped around her legs with her chin resting on her knees. She looked forlorn, gazing out at the overgrown backyard beyond.

He experienced a sudden pang of pity towards her. As unfamiliar as the feeling was, he pushed it aside. Dropping himself into a rocking chair located adjacent to where she was sitting, he winced as a spring beneath him broke. Unprepared for his stocky frame, the chair continued to creak and groan but Blondie barely flinched.

He grunted. "Tough break, kid."

Linka looked up at him briefly — tear-stained face, her long lashes clumped together. She wiped her eyes and turned her back on him once again, hugging herself a little tighter.

He grunted again, tapping his fingers on the armrest and rocking ever so slightly. "If it's any consolation, Heart-Boy thinks I'm also dead."

"How?" Linka murmured. Her voice was flat and toneless. "Did a psychotic scientist murder you, too?"

"Nah," he replied, ignoring the sarcasm. "I disappeared around seven or eight years ago. Presumed dead. Probably courtesy of Kroi."

"Does that knowledge not bother you?" she asked, raising her red eyes to his. Her voice was husky and she sniffed, before resuming her observation of the rampant gardens below. "Are you not upset?"

"Not really," Bleak replied. He gestured around him. "Been given the opportunity to see what was hidden. Change the things that I otherwise couldn't change. Once we get back —"

"Do you really think we are getting back, Bleak?" she asked. That flat tone again. She sighed, turning around to face him, crossing her legs beneath her and focusing on her hands clutched within her lap. "You do realise that if we had not gone through the portal, this would have become our future? This was what we were heading towards?"

"Yeah. But not anymore. So long as we can get back."

She sniffed, gazing up at the ceiling. "At the point in time we went through — I had only eight more years to live. I was alone and on the run here. I would have spent the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. What sort of life was that?"

"I dunno," Bleak offered. "May not have been as bad as —"

She laughed humourlessly. "Sure."

Bleak shrugged, stretching his arms above his head. He glanced up, spotting Gi standing in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. Waiting.

"Right," Bleak muttered. He gripped the chair and pushed himself to his feet, standing awkwardly for a moment between the two women. "Yeah. I'm gonna go."

Linka nodded, resuming her steady gaze out the window.

"I'm so sorry," Gi offered, dropping down behind her friend. She wrapped her arms around her, resting her chin on Linka's shoulder. "I am so, so sorry. We made a promise to wait... until everyone was here."

Linka tensed up under Gi's embrace. "How did I die? How did she do it?"

"I don't know," Gi replied softly, raising her hand as Linka moved to interrupt. "That's the truth. I honestly don't know. I never found out. I was never told. All I do know is that you were living in London at the time."

"You saw me dead?"

"I saw your body," Gi whispered, blinking back heavy tears. "Hardest day of my life, saying goodbye to you. We only saw you once after the split — before you died. Maybe eighteen months after you were relocated. We… we'd all had dinner together. Little restaurant in Sicily."

"Everybody came?"

"Yeah." Gi smiled at the memory. "We weren't supposed to meet up. It was meant to be strictly no contact, but… we'd agreed on a time and place before they took you away. We took the risk. I never would have imagined it would be the last time."

"Was I... did I seem happy?"

"Yeah," Gi squeezed her tightly. "You were… you were content."

"Oh."

"C'mon." Gi stood, extending her hand out and offering it to Linka. "There's more you need to know."

Linka nodded, allowing Gi to pull her to her feet.

She resettled into the armchair beside Gi. Nearly everybody had resumed their previous positions — everybody except Wheeler, who had disappeared into the house somewhere and was yet to surface. She gazed longingly at the spot he had vacated.

"Things moved quickly after you died, Linka," Kwame said softly, and she raised her eyes to his. "Some were connected with your death, some were not."

"The wind," Ma-Ti murmured. "It started with the wind."

"What about the wind?" Linka asked, confused.

"We had cyclonic activity begin to build up almost immediately after you passed away, Linka," Gi explained. "Started off small, and over time it gradually got worse. Shorelines eroded and lots of sand travelled inland."

"Again, this is just a hypothesis," Ma-Ti said. "When you died, you were still in possession of your ring. Captain Planet until that point had been harnessing your power." He leaned forward, clasping his hands together. "With no life force associated with your power, your element became unstable. Uncontrolled."

"But Captain Planet —"

"Cap was grounded after you died. Unable to fly without wind. His last known location was here in the US. Los Angeles. Within a few months we were unable to locate him at all. Cap disappeared."

"Da, Kwame mentioned that." Linka closed her eyes. "All right. What happened to the electricity, then? The technology?"

"That," Kwame said, "was a whole other problem entirely. In short… MAL."

"But I destroyed MAL?" she whispered, glancing at Gi. "Didn't I?"

Gi nodded. "Yes, you did. We didn't realise until much later — MAL had hidden fail-safes embedded within his software. MAL was a self-evolving program with security protocols in case anyone tried to shut him down. No one knew this. I don't even think Blight was aware. When MAL went offline, the virus was released."

"Oh God," Linka breathed. She knew where this was heading.

"It took years for the corrupted files to work their way through cyberspace," Kwame continued. "The phone networks were the first to go. Communication. We started having signal issues, days where we had no workable phone lines."

"Power grids went next, around a year after you died," Gi said softly. "There had been unexplainable outages across the northern hemisphere for a year or two prior, then one day… gone entirely."

"Then it got really bad," Kwame said in a low voice. "Due to the utilities going down, it set off a chain-reaction. Stock markets crashed, manufacturing ceased. Aviation. Corporations."

"Police and medical were no longer able to coordinate their efforts. Financial institutions shut down. Everybody lost their money —" Ma-Ti started.

"Let me guess. Human nature reared its ugly head," Bleak muttered under his breath. He passed a hand over his scalp, looking decidedly nervous. "Complete mayhem?"

"Yes. At that point, everybody lost their minds," Kwame said. "Robbery. Hoarding of supplies. Breaking and entering. Riots. Murders. Gang violence. Bombings. Total destruction of major cities. Mass migrations. We've been living like this for around two years now, dealing with what little we've been left with."

"What about guns? Bullets? Haven't seen a lot of those around? Weapons seem a little simplistic, here," Bleak said with a frown.

"No," Kwame said. "When the government first grasped what was happening, they anticipated trouble. Most remaining ammunition on shelves was melted down. Guns and firearms were either crushed or destroyed. If you were to venture out further into the rural areas, they are more common."

"Fuckin' mess," Bleak grumbled. He jacked his thumb in Linka's direction. "Why the hell is she needed, then?"

Gi sighed, glancing at her friend worriedly. "Did you notice the wind outside had stopped?"

Linka blinked, opening her mouth and closing it again. Recalling the wind buffeting and lashing their faces when they had first arrived on that sandy plain. "Da."

"We noticed too." Gi pursed her lips, squeezing her hand gently. "We don't think that's a coincidence."

"Again, this is just a theory," Ma-Ti said. "Doctor Blight's influence here has been growing. More and more people have joined her. She took over a natural history museum in the centre of town, made it her headquarters. She has a lot of people living there and they're intent on wiping out the rest of us. It's no coincidence that she's here, too. Captain Planet was last seen in Southern California around the time you died. We have… people —"

"Spies," Gi corrected, narrowing her eyes. "Let's not mince words."

"All right. Spies who have reported to us that she hates being here. Loathes it. She's desperate to leave. There is something hidden away in the basement of that building. Something tethered and unmoving."

"Her own personal exhibit," Gi muttered.

"Captain Planet?" Linka surmised. "She captured him?"

"That is our suspicion," Kwame said tiredly.

"That still does not explain why I am —"

"She needs you."

Wheeler had returned. Linka looked up, staring at his figure framed within the doorway. His blue eyes bored into her and she shrank back slightly.

"What?"

"Blight fucked up. She killed you. The world went to hell in a hand-basket and she didn't anticipate that. Blight needs you and your power back."

"Why?" Linka whispered. "I still don't —"

"When you died," Ma-Ti explained, "Cap was grounded. He was stuck. Couldn't return to the Earth. She realised too late that by killing you, she had taken away the only chance of powering the machine."

"Doctor Blight's insane," Gi spat. "She's completely unhinged. Certifiable. Her people have been travelling back and forth between Los Angeles and Nevada, sometimes with big shipments hidden. Stockpiling. You said you came here through her equipment in Las Vegas?"

"Da."

Gi glanced at Kwame. "The time travel equipment must still be intact. Hidden."

Kwame nodded. "She needs us to combine our powers. She needs a concentrated burst of energy to power the time machine. The only way left to do this is to combine our rings. Harness the energy. It's her only chance to leave. That's why she brought you back. That's why she set up the message in one of the places she knew she'd experimented on before."

"But how did I never disappear, here?" Linka asked. She closed her eyes, leaning back in the chair. "It does not make sense that I —"

"Doctor Blight had made all the breakthroughs. She has hard-copies of all of her research. The coordinates, the equations, the test runs. She had the knowledge and the ability, but the technology no longer existed for her to utilise it. Blight needed to bring you back to a future where you had never disappeared. She created an alternate path," Ma-Ti said.

Linka brushed the hair out of her eyes. She resettled herself, watching Ma-Ti carefully. "She has split the timelines?"

"Yes." He held out the fork he'd been playing with for the past hour. Running his finger down the handle, he met her eyes. "Imagine this is our shared timeline. All experiences and events are identical."

"Okay."

Ma-Ti pointed to the base of the metal prongs. "This is the point where Blight left the message. Interfered with the original timeline. Our shared timeline should have continued on as one, however we now have a second branch."

"Dude — there's four pointy-bits on your fork," Gi muttered, rolling her eyes. "Don't confuse the poor girl."

Ma-Ti snorted. "You are confusing her by even mention—"

"It's two prongs for two timelines. Not four."

"Well, I don't have a two-pronged fork to demonstrate with, Gi," he said, his voice betraying both sarcasm and amusement. "Or a branch for that matter, or a gardening trowel or a —"

Kwame smirked from beneath his hand. "A gardening trowel is like a small shovel, Ma-Ti."

"Maybe a tuning fork," Gi added helpfully.

"Oh, for goodness sake," Ma-Ti muttered. He waved good-naturedly and Linka couldn't help but smile. "Do you see what I have to put up with?"

Gi shrugged, winking at Ma-Ti and resting her head on Linka's shoulder. "Just clarifying."

"She knows what I mean. Linka's timeline has branched off in another direction. Which is actually good news for you if we can get you back. You should be able to avoid this future since your Blight is no longer an issue."

"All right." Linka folded her arms, watching Ma-Ti expectantly. "I think I only have one question left."

"You want to know how we knew you were coming."

"Da. Did Blight tell you?"

"No," Ma-Ti said softly. "Gaia told me. Or rather, Gaia showed me."

"How did she know?"

Ma-Ti shifted, glancing at the others.

"Gaia didn't just leave," Gi volunteered. Her face was tight. "She was banished."

"Banished?"

"Gaia was as blind-sided by your death as we were," Ma-Ti said. "She is no longer with us because she was banished from our realm. Her link to the earth was already hanging by a thread. It was the last thing she could do for us. She broke the rules for us."

"What rules?"

"Gaia's job here was always to guide us. To assist us — but not to influence us through other-worldy means. She was not permitted to interfere with free will or directly alter the course of things here on earth. She defied the elders and made an exception after you died." Gi leant back, glancing at Ma-Ti.

"Gaia knew that Blight had lost whatever sanity she had left. She was desperate to know what Blight was planning next. Gaia inhabited Blight's body and was able to read into her future. That information was then transferred to Ma-Ti."

"Not a pleasant experience, might I add," Ma-Ti voiced, shuddering at the memory.

"Gaia told you?"

"No," he explained. "About a week after you died, I had just returned home. Lying in bed. Depressed and miserable. I breathed in and I could smell lavender. It was always a scent I associated with Gaia. When I opened my eyes…"

Ma-Ti paused, rubbing his hand over his face while he composed himself. "She was right here," he whispered. "Floating above me. Her eyes were black," he said. He pursed his lips. It was obviously a difficult memory to dredge up but Linka sat, enthralled. "Her hands shot out, pressing over my forehead. I remember shouting out. That's when the pictures started. Images, I guess."

He trailed off. Gi gave him an encouraging smile and he breathed out shakily before continuing. "She foresaw all of this through reading Blight's future. She was able to warn me. She showed me the technology failing, the erosion. The desperate, frightened people. She showed me the underground settlements."

Ma-Ti smiled at Linka, wiping a tear away. "And then I get a flash of light. The image of you — just you — crash landing into the sand. Bag over your head. Frightened and feeling alone." He swallowed nervously. "When I had my power, I can't explain it — but your presence was always accompanied by a light blue aura. A glow. When Gaia transferred the images to me, your presence was very much there. It was like Gaia knew you would be coming back to us. Almost a prophecy."

"That is a large gamble to make. It could have just been a dream for all you knew," she said gently.

Kwame shrugged. "Everything Ma-Ti described to us came true. In terms of the decline in technology, we were able to somewhat prepare for what was to come. We had no reason to doubt your arrival… we simply did not have a timeframe. We just hoped to find you before Blight could."

"All right," she murmured. She rubbed her eyes tiredly; still processing everything she had been told. "I think I have everything I need to know."

"It's a lot to take in," Gi added, dropping her arm around Linka's shoulders.

Linka nodded, looking rather bewildered by the revelations. "Did Gaia say anything?"

"Yes." Ma-Ti nodded. "She told me that under no circumstances were you to remain here. That it was imperative that you return. Something about the timelines becoming unstable."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Linka leaned into Gi, before settling her gaze on Wheeler. He was still standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and inspecting the laces on his boots.

"All right," Kwame said gently. He pushed himself to his feet, placing his hand on Linka's head as he passed. "Let us eat."

"Great idea," Bleak muttered, also rising and following Kwame. "I swear, I'm gonna beat the livin' daylights outta my boss if I get home in one piece."

Wheeler grunted in response as Bleak pushed past, not even bothering to throw out a smart response.

"Yankee?" Linka voiced, almost nervously, aware that he had been missing in action for most of the conversation. "Are you all right?"

He gave a half shrug; shuffling awkwardly on the spot before turning and rapidly striding away, leaving the girls alone.

"What happened?" Linka was suddenly tearful, at a loss to explain his dismissive behaviour. "He hates me, Gi?"

"He doesn't hate you, Lin," Gi said firmly. She tightened her grip around Linka's shoulders as Wheeler disappeared upstairs. "I guess everyone deals with grief differently."