Metal Deep: Infinite - Something Beautiful: Episode 2 Page 5

  “That was my idea.” Sway said proudly. “If you’re going to hang with us, then you needed to be sexier. Because that plain squishy thing you had going on was no good for me.”

  Good, because it hadn’t been good for me either.

  What caught my attention next had nothing to do with my bionic arms and face. I skipped right up to my hair. It had been cut and colored during this last procedure. No longer did I have just a boring brown center-part cut. My hair had been trimmed short and gelled up into Kata-platinum spikes that had bright green highlights. Add to that, they pierced each of my ears leaving an inscribed silver loop earring in each one. I smiled. I had secretly always wanted earrings, but had been too afraid to get them.

  “That was me.” Kata said through a squeal as she raised her hand.

  I guess everybody in the house gets their own rainbow-color of hair dye? It would take some getting used to, but I nodded approvingly. I really liked it.

  The main course was really what had me excited. I touched my face. It had been mostly fixed. My eyes were still machines, but they had managed to take away everything save the silver and now-green machine-eyes. I couldn’t complain. All the ugly brown and grease stained scraps were gone. They resembled more of a human look, save the glow of my new bright green color that matched my hair. Leave it to a woman to accessorize my cyborg eyes with my hair.

  “Green?” I asked. I took another hard stare at my new irises. I felt like a spotlight. I wondered if there was a lens switch that would let me play with the colors.

  “My fault,” Maeve admitted, “And so was this.” She squeezed my hand once more, and my heart skipped a beat. I had been so preoccupied with my looks I hadn’t noticed before. The ugly patchwork that had once been my arms had been turned into a smooth sculpted physique of glossy black finish. I thought at first I was going to have to get used to the saying, “Resistance if Futile,” as ugly as I had been, but my amazing makeover team changed all that. They made my arms defined and even with a stopping point that ran uniformly just above the joints where my shoulders and chest met. I had been changed into something sleek and fierce.

  But more than that, I realized what Maeve was talking about… I could feel again. I felt Maeve’s hand. And not like some kind of numb sensation that searched through layers of lifeless coverings to process a heavy touch. I felt the warmth of her fingers on mine as if I had my own flesh back. The small nuances of her folding of skin that bent and stretched as her thumb moved over the top of my hand demonstrated how much things had changed. It made me want to sing, but I doubt even Kata and Sway could fix that.

  I had only mentioned to Maeve once how I was having issues feeling touch. I really didn’t think that was something that could have been remedied. I guess she listened and had the girls work on that too. What a woman she was. I placed each of my hands on hers and savored how she felt. Game, set, match! We had a winner.

  I walked around, stretched, and got used to the new me. I took in the whole picture as Maeve, Kata, and Sway looked on approvingly. I stood there wearing only a black pair of medical scrub pants and stared at a cyborg in the mirror next to them. I was not a monster, but something different. Something the girls had managed to make kind of beautiful… if I do say so myself.

  I still couldn’t cry. I wanted to, tears of joy this time. The best I could do was whisper, “Thank you.”

  After we had all taken in the full sight of my new look, Sway put the mirror away as she teased, “And that’s just the outside. Wait till you get a load of the rest.” Then she turned back into herself, the Mean One, “Which is more than someone like you deserves. You can’t imagine how much this all costs.”

  Kata rolled her eyes and tossed me my shirt. I tossed it back at her. I was okay without it. I wanted to admire what I had become. I caught Maeve’s smile perking up after I had. I guess she wanted to as well.

  Then a man’s voice cut in from the shadows of the back part of the lab, “You may want it, that beach breeze can get nippy.”

  I about jumped out of my scrubs when I heard him speak. My ears and eyes were more attuned than ever, but somehow I missed a person hiding out in shadows? I turned toward the corner that led to the elevator as an older man with a short salt and pepper beard, grey eyes, and a narrow nose appeared. He wore a very expensive looking wine colored suit. I was starting to wonder if every Amalgam in the world was obnoxiously rich, because I certainly wanted to get in on that. He held a silver box in one hand and a pipe in the other. It wasn’t lit, but he put it in his mouth and then mumbled around the pipe as he introduced himself as “Largo.”

  Kata and Sway gave him a friendly hug as he congratulated them both on jobs well done. Maeve waved which he returned with a sincere how-do-you-do smile. Instantly a fatherly vibe entered the room that eased all the tension I was feeling over his sudden appearance. “I brought pizza and ale from the Dwarven stalls outside Zyn. I thought we could celebrate.”

  “Marchians?” Kata asked.

  “Better,” Largo said, “Gildappo!”

  The girls all cooed with delight, and Sway was gone to the lift dragging Kata with her before I could blink. Apparently I still blinked.

  “I’m going to leave you two alone to talk.” Maeve said eyeing the lift. She muttered an order for Kata to hold it for her.

  Sway huffed with a “Hurry up.”

  Maeve giggled, “Dwarven pizza and ale is to die for. I’ll save you some.” She told me, and then she winked at Largo, “Don’t keep him too long. He eats like a horse, and he’ll need to eat something soon. He’s still in recovery mode.”

  Now that she mentioned it, I was starting feel a little weak, but I was too excited about the new me to notice.

  We let the girls go, and then Largo nodded toward the lift after it had returned. We went up to the main floor and took a walk outside to the pier. We stopped and both of us propped on a ledge that overlooked the ocean. The sea’s magnificence rolled sparkling reflections of moonlight toward us with every crashing wave. I never got tired of the sound. It was a paradise away from everything.

  “You have questions.” Largo said.

  “You have answers.” I replied. Neither of us looked at each other. We just talked as if it were something we had done a thousand times. Though this was the first I had ever seen or heard of Largo.

  “Some,” he agreed.

  “You’re the one who sent Maeve after me.” That wasn’t a question.

  Largo gave a heavy sigh, “I am. Let’s just say I knew what the Vipers were planning. I was simply waiting to see with whom they would try it. When I found out it was you, I sent Maeve. She’s young, but she’s one of the best you’ll ever see behind the wheel of that Spiritan Armor suit she has. I was hoping we would get to you before they could begin, but they moved with a swiftness that even I hadn’t anticipated.”

  “Isn’t all this going to upset the Street Vipers?”

  “Well, it’s something I rather enjoy doing.” Largo chuckled as he lit the pipe and puffed rings of smoke into the wind. The smoke lingered with the scent of lemon and fresh cut grass. Largo continued, “The good news is, because you put Drake and Cade out of commission, the new person that took over wants nothing to do with you. So for now you won’t have Street Viper heat on your back.”

  “I assume there’s bad news to go with that good.” Of course there was, there was always bad news.

  Largo nodded, “Yeah, when Drake and Cade get back on their feet, and they will, you are going to be at the top of their naughty list.”

  If there was anything I could appreciate, it was the value of a good delay tactic. I guess I made things worse for myself with Drake and Cade, but I had delayed them for a while, and allowed myself time to get fixed, so that goes into the win column. With me having nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nobody currently trying to abduct me, I was aimless. I asked the only thing I could think of, “So now what?”

  He had placed the silver box on the rail and slid it to me. A gust
of wind rolled over my skin that sent shivers up my still-cyborg-ized spine. I liked the sensation. “We have two orders of business.”

  I perked an eyebrow.

  He continued, “I understand you have chosen to take an Amalgam name for yourself.”

  I nodded.

  “I respect that. Most of us do. Have you chosen?”

  Still silent I just shook my head.

  Largo laughed, “Good,” And then handed me the silver box.

  The box was plain. There was nothing on the outside but a smooth mirrored finish. It was a little bigger than my hand, and almost as tall. When I opened it, I balked at the sight of two glowing crescent shaped gems that sat in a black felt liner. They were as green as my new eyes and I felt some kind of energy pulsating off of them.

  “They’re amazing.” I said.

  “They’re yours.” Largo said, “Those are the Thantosan Dragonstones. They only come alive for members of the Thantosa family. After having had a chance to look over some of Kata and Sway’s findings concerning how potent your DNA was in regards to its adaptability to some of your more artificial aspects, I had a feeling that you might be a descendent.

  “I had these procured from an Amalgam rarities collector in New York. I’ll give you the name later, but just a head’s up, you’ll want to try to avoid him in the future. He wasn’t what I’d call willing to part with those.” Largo’s shoulders rose in a what-do-you-do shrug.

  He continued, “One night while you were out for a procedure I brought them to you, and they lit right up. It was then I knew for certain you were a lost descendent of the Thantosa’s.

  “ The Thantosa’s were a proud and noble family of peacekeepers that once had a respected standing amidst most of the Amalgam world. You’ll learn more about them as you begin your new life, but, consider your heritage as you choose. Those stones would be dull and clear for anyone but a Thantosa, and with what we face today because of what the Street Vipers are trying to unleash, I know there might be a Purie or two who would think twice before bumping heads with another Thantosa.”

  “I will.” I said mesmerized by the gems, I barely registered what he was saying. It sounded like I had plenty of homework on my plate. “What do I do with them?”

  Largo took my hand and shot me a wink, “This was my contribution. Though I wish the green hair had been my idea,” he gave a sarcastic eye roll. Is it weird I was almost twenty years old and at that moment still felt like I hadn’t crossed the gap from child to adult? Oh well, I like my new green hair.

  At the top of each of my hands was a perfect crescent indention. I thought it was just a random part of the design, but it seems there was purpose for them. Largo took one of the flat crescent moon shaped stones and placed it snugly within the indention so that it became a part of my hand just behind the knuckles. He did the other, and then tapped them with a finger and whispered “Booshaka.”

  I was really expecting something a little more magically eloquent, but it had the effect he wanted. Green energy pulsed from my hands up through hidden veins I hadn’t seen during the initial inspection of my arms. I felt warm, I felt stronger, I felt like a damn Christmas tree with all these things that “lit up” on me, but I was accepting it one LED at a time.

  “There will be more to learn.” Largo said, “You’re free to do that wherever or however you want. But if you would consider staying, I will arrange for you to be taught. The truth is your discovery has knocked some instability to an already crumbling ‘understanding’ held between Amalgams and Slate leaders. Like your ancestors, I’m pledged to help keep peace in any way I can, but to do that I need help from special people like the girls, yourself, and anyone else we may come across in the coming days. That is if you’re interested?”

  I really wasn’t sure if totally understood, but then I didn’t have to understand all the “why’s” and “how’s” of what he was saying. The only thing I knew was that he was a good person, and I needed to be around good people. I also knew that in some ways I had caused the problems that would come from the Street Vipers, and if I had a hand in making something happen that could spill over into hurting other innocents then I had to do something about it. I was the reason my father was dead. I couldn’t be responsible for anyone else dying. It was my duty.

  I held out a hand. “I’m in.”

  Largo shook it with a smile. “Excellent. Now that’s handled, let’s go get some pizza. I hope you like stone-moth and pepperoni.”

  “Huh?”

  I followed him inside, and he pulled a slice of pizza onto a plate and handed it to me. I sat and watched as the four of them burst into guffawing conversation that continued from a topic on which I was clearly out of the loop. They seemed like a family. I was still on the outside of it, but I smiled and felt something that resembled contentment as the realization dawned on me: This was the beginning of something special, and I couldn’t wait to see where this adventure was going to take me.

  THE WHITE CHAMBER

  Feringal made confident strides into the great White Chamber. He bowed before the four white robed figures. If not for the colored, featureless mask each wore from beneath their white hoods, the council would be all but invisible within the brilliance of their fabled hall.

  The elders wasted no time with pleasantries. Their voices flitted with whispers that held the promise of death for any wrong word spoken. The Yellow Mask inquired first. “Is it true?”

  “My master reports that the Heir of Thantosa has been found.”

  The Blue Mask followed, he bobbed up and down, his feet were not touching the ground, “And it’s true he has already been united with the Dragonstones?”

  “It is true my lords.”

  “Unfortunate, but he is not the pressing concern,” Mumbled the Black Mask.

  “Isn’t he?” Questioned the Yellow Mask.

  Black Mask continued questioning Feringal, ignoring the Yellow Mask’s, concern. “What of the keys we sent your master to procure?”

  Feringal, eager to please, dumped the content of the silk bag he carried out on the floor. A curved pearl-hilted blade, still covered in the Colorado dirt from which he snatched it, clamored at their feet.

  “There is supposed to be another.” The Yellow Mask demanded.

  “My master is working on it with haste.”

  “Your master sends you with only half of the mandate? You and your master should pay for this outrage and failure with your lives.” The Black Mask hissed.

  The Red Mask moved forward one step at a time, “Perhaps mercy is required, and senseless death be avoided.”

  Feringal had not been expecting their ire. He thought certainly they would have been pleased with his prize. He shivered as the Red Mask slowly picked up the captured blade. He held it for a moment and examined it. He then took the edge in his hand and put the handle within Feringal’s reach. “Take it.” He said. “You’ve not completely failed.”

  He did as instructed and held the stolen sword, but before he could react, the Red Mask pulled his own sword from beneath his white cloak, and with a swing of a blade that ignited and burned with the red hot flames of Hell, the Red Mask burnt a cauterizing swipe that severed Feringal’s empty left hand from his wrist.

  The smell of his cooked flesh, and the ice cold shock that ran up his arm was overwhelming. He fell to his knees and pleaded for mercy though whimpering sobs of pain and surprise.

  They turned and ignored his cries, so as to leave the grand chamber from a door Feringal could not see. “Since you had no use for that hand I have relieved you of it. Now, go.” the Red Mask said, “And should you return empty handed again, our mercy will not be so prevalent.

  “Thank you my lords.” Feringal said as he clutched the sword and stumbled toward the door.

  Before he could leave, the cold steel words of the Red Mask stopped his retreat, “Do clean up after yourself, servant.”

  Feringal paused, sweat drenched through his black leather and wool ensemble. He stum
bled once more back to the center of the room, “Yes, my lords. Thank you, my lords.”

  He clumsily fumbled the sword back into the sack, picked up his severed hand, and all but ran out of the White Chamber.

  The Yellow Mask spoke first, “We should deal with the Thantosa Heir first.”

  “I agree.” The floating Blue Mask said.

  “The keys should be the priority.” The Black Mask whispered in rebuttal.

  “Come, let us retire.” The Red Mask assured the others, “I sense that soon, both problems will cancel the other out. In fact, a plan is already in motion to see it done.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  G.X. Knight: He is a single father from Montgomery, Alabama. If he were a Musketeer, he’d be Porthos (The Oliver Platt version). If he were a Power Ranger, he most definitely would be the very first green one (Play Dragonzord tune now). And if he were to pick only one superhero to spend a day at the amusement park with, it would be Iron Man (Stark’s paying). He enjoys showing his son who’s boss in Halo (the Sprinting Assassin forever rules!), he loves all types of music (please get back together, N*SYNC), and he hopes to one day live the Jimmy Buffett life of margaritas (Vodka/Red Bull) and cheeseburgers out on the white sand beaches of Gulf Shores. If you see him out-and-about you will know it’s him because he’ll likely be singing these wrong words: