Letting the Cables Sleep
Written by Zelda
Author’s note: Not a songfic, just titled the same as a great song by Bush. Listen to it if you can get your hands on a CD or MP3, it makes a great soundtrack to certain scenes, particularly the one where Wildwing is sitting alone in the Ready Room with Drake 1’s monitor. You’ll know it when you come to it. Enjoy!
“Can you top that? Come on, I’m
asking you! Tell me if you can top that!” Duke jabbed his leader with an elbow
as they trampled off of the ice in their skates, his voice barely audible above
the roar of the crowd that they were leaving behind.
“Heh… I’ll get back to you on
that one, after I get my breath back…” Wildwing admitted with a tired sigh. He
had been the savior of tonight’s game, holding off an insane flurry of offense
by their opponents within the last few minutes of regulation time. The entire
team had been caught unawares, growing tired as the game wore down, and unable
to do much to respond. It was Wildwing’s vigilance in goal that prevented a
come-from-behind defeat.
“That’s my big bro!” Nosedive
gave the goalie a playful shove, sending him into the locker room, to join the
rest of the team.
“Hey, three cheers for our star
goalie tonight, huh?” Tanya raised a water bottle to toast him before taking a
swig.
“Bet the other guy between the
pipes down there was real jealous.” Mallory laughed. “I wish I coulda seen
their coach’s face! Having him see what real all-star material is!”
“Our opponents had strategy and
desperation on their side tonight.” Grin tisked her lightly. “We would have
been unable to keep up, without Wildwing to keep us in the game.”
“Agreed.” Tanya sat on the
bench, out of breath. “I’m glad some of us still had the energy to answer what
they dished at us in those last few minutes. And that was highlight reel stuff
tonight Wing, you’ve got nerves of steel, I swear.”
“Thanks guys.” he nodded,
slumping down on the other end of the bench and starting to slough off his
padding. “But man, were their shooters good tonight. My legs feel like jell-o.”
“We all need rest.” Mallory
said. “What, with games all this week, and that bank robbery we stopped the
other day?”
“Can’t the criminal element take
a day off?” Nosedive smirked, questioning rhetorically.
“You know what I mean.” Mallory
rolled her eyes, smiling.
“I believe you are right.” Grin
rumbled, nodding. “Rest is well deserved.”
As he finished speaking, a new
bolt of enthusiasm entered the locker room in the form of a purple ball of
bouncing scales. Exhausted and panting with the effort of boardrunning all
night, Zelda had found a new well of energy in the celebrating crowd. “Do you
hear them out there?” she laughed. “Sheer adoration! I tell you, it took a
little while for these people to wake up, but they sure do love their Ducks
now.” Giggling, she leapt up onto the bench, and then Wildwing’s shoulder,
causing the goalie to nearly fall over.
“Hey, watch it!” he chided
lightly, pushing her off along his arm. “You’re likely to break something, at
this point.”
Zelda’s expression softened
instantly in apology. “You’re really that spent?” she asked. “Didn’t look like
it out there tonight, you were in top form, big guy.” She patted him on the
shoulder, nodded, and hopped off the bench to go congratulate the others.
The team’s leader couldn’t help
but grin after her, before he threw the last of his gear into his locker, and
pulled a clean towel behind his neck. Even standing, he could feel his leg
muscles protesting. At least he hadn’t pulled anything tonight, then real disaster
would be looming on the horizon.
“Come on guys, who’s up for
ordering a pizza and reveling in the post-game highlights?” Nosedive asked.
“Eh, count me out tonight kid.”
Duke shook his head. “I think I’m gonna fall asleep to the tape, heh.”
“Bo-ring!” his younger winger
rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t any of you have some life left?”
“Ahh, to be young again.” Tanya
smiled, pushing open the door to the hall. “Come on kid, I know you’re beat
too. And Phil won’t be able to handle all the press tonight.” She gestured out
the door to some flashbulbs that were lighting in the distance. “I say we leave
while we can still stand.”
“Whoo, you sure do make a good
point.” Nosedive cringed slightly. “Alright, but I’m still gonna kick it in the
galley for a while, if anyone wants to join me.”
With that, the team started to
file out of the door and into the long, cinder block hallway that was painted
in their team colors. Farther up the hall, a few members of the press spotted
them and tried to pull a few quotes for the news, but were interrupted and
corralled by Phil. A few managed to slip past him, though.
Zelda smiled and nodded to them,
shooing the rest of the team on with a wave of her tail. “I’ll be along guys.”
“Dunno why she does that.”
Mallory shrugged as she watched the dragon trot off, to start chatting with a
few sports reporters. “Guess she’s still just more used to humans than we are.”
“We’re not newcomers here
anymore.” Grin spoke. “She’s proud about how we played tonight. I think she
just wants to brag.”
“Really?” Wildwing raised an
eyebrow at him. “Then why does she talk to the press after losses too?”
Grin shrugged. “Damage control,
perhaps?”
“Best way to nurse a wounded ego
is to shield it, I guess.” Duke nodded, and kept walking.
Passing through a few sets of
double doors, the team reached a secret elevator tube, another option to them
taking the elevator down from the locker room. Ever since Phil had started
letting the press into the access corridors, the team had to be ‘seen’ exiting
the locker room, to act as a cover for the headquarters that lay below. It
really wasn’t a matter or real importance that the team kept the base a secret
anymore, quite a few people knew that it existed. But it didn’t hurt to keep up
appearances, and as long as the public didn’t inquire too much, nobody knew the
wiser. Less press about their headquarters would probably keep the Saurians in
the dark, as well.
So the team took the elevator down and scattered into their various bunks. Nosedive settled for a post-game shower to pass the time before he ate his pizza, and in the end, fell asleep before he could leave his bunk again. It was Wildwing who met the delivery boy at the Pond’s doors. In the end, he was glad for his younger brother’s foresight, since he was hungry enough to need the midnight snack, when it did come. Pizza box and bottle of Vanilla Coke in hand, he retreated to the Ready Room alone, with the rest of the team asleep. He winced a little at Nosedive’s choice of anchovy and pineapple toppings, before he yielded to his rumbling stomach and gave in to a slice, settling down in front of Drake 1’s massive screen with the evening sports show. Munching and sipping in-between yawns, he couldn’t help but smile a little, watching the highlight reel from the night’s game. He had come up with a few really key saves. It felt good to know, to see, and to be able to feel that he was doing something right on the ice. With all of the running around that the team had been doing lately, the truly good rewards were coming few and far between. Sighing, Wildwing set down a crust and leaned back in a console chair, thinking. Thinking about how he hadn’t felt this way in weeks. Things were always unpredictable around here, but it hadn’t been easy for him lately. Things were just… wrong. Things nobody knew about. Things that he purposely had buried in his mind so deeply, that not even Zelda or Grin suspected anything. Things like his nightmares, nightmares that had the feel of battle-sore muscles, and were stained with the color of congealed blood. Wildwing felt his stomach souring with the thoughts in his head, and he quickly shook them away both mentally and physically. Taking in a breath, he set the pizza box down on Drake 1’s console, and inadvertently pushed an odd button. He was startled as there was a loud hissing behind him, and a section of the floor started to push up. This was where the team had stored a lot of items they’d managed to collect over time. A mini-museum of curious rested in their cubbies. B.R.A.W.N.’s robot head sat in a recharge mode. The magical Star Sword gleamed in the light from Drake 1’s screen. And in the next cubby were the fragments of Asteroth’s amulet, the fractured source of the wizard’s now-defunct power. The movement of the flooring had shaken one of the fragments out of its cubby and onto the ground, and Wildwing stood to go put it back. Out of curiosity, Wildwing turned it over in his hand as he picked it up, watching as the light refracted off of the facets. Light flashed off of a certain surface, a flat cut that had been made by the Star Sword, and Wildwing saw something that caused him to frown. “What the…?” he muttered, turning the amulet again to have another look. There- a flash of light, an image somehow created on the surface of the gem. Wildwing was a little stunned to find that he recognized what he saw in that split-second flash. It was an image that he had seen before, behind his closed eyelids, in his nightmares. Twitching the amulet back and forth, the image flashed again and again, but a little different each time, like advancing frames in a film. He stood, becoming increasingly frightened, as he watched fragments of his nightmares play out on the tiny facet of a crystal shard. And most importantly, the face that the crystal was reflecting was not his own. How was this possible?
“What’s up with you, bro?” Nosedive frowned up at
him. “It looks like you didn’t sleep a wink last night. And Tanya’s gonna be
mad at you for leaving that pizza in the Ready Room!”
“Yeah.” Wildwing rubbed the back of his neck. “I
probably didn’t sleep thanks to that pizza, little bro.”
“Hey, that stuff’s the best!” Nosedive crossed his
arms. “And you ate a good fourth of it.” Pouting, he shuffled off further down
the hall, towards the galley for breakfast.
“Don’t tell me you’re going to polish that off now,
either!” Wildwing called after him, but there was no reply. The leader sighed,
and shook his head a little. How old was Nosedive now? And he still needed
someone to serve as nutritional counselor. Wildwing turned in the corridor that
he was walking through, proceeding back towards his bunk. He decided to skip
breakfast this morning, just not feeling very hungry at all. He was just tired,
just very tired. After what he had seen in the early hours of the morning,
standing alone in the Ready Room, he couldn’t find it in him to sleep. He only
remembered putting the amulet fragment back in its cubby, sinking the storage
rack back into the floor, and returning to his bunk to spend the night tossing
and turning in bed. Reentering his bunk only made him think more about what had
gone through his head in those previous hours. He felt stuffy and
uncomfortable.
“Morning, fearless leader!”
Wildwing was nearly startled by Zelda’s voice, and
familiar claw-click noises on the metal floor as she came pacing up to him from
the hallway. “Oh-- hey there girl.” he
turned and leaned on the doorframe to look out at her. “What’s up?”
“Not you, from the looks of it.” she cocked her head
at him. “Sleep badly?”
“To say the least…” he sighed, and walked back into
his room.
Hesitating slightly in the doorframe, Zelda twitched
her ears and watched him go. “Anything I can get you?”
“Nah…” Wildwing shook his head, thinking it over as
he spoke. “I dunno, I guess I’m still tired from yesterday. Do me a favor, tell
the others they can rest up too, we’ll push practice back a few hours.”
The dragon nodded, still watching him. “I’ll tell
them. Go take a nap, Wing, looks like you could use some extra shuteye.” She
retreated from the door, and it slid shut behind her, leaving the goalie duck
in relative darkness.
In the silence, Wildwing grumbled slightly. Didn’t
he just say that he was going to get some rest? Eh, he was only frustrated at
himself. Zelda always meant the best for the others, she did a good job of
looking out for the team when its members were too busy to do that themselves.
It was handy to have her around, because right now Wildwing was far too
distracted with the previous night’s events. He climbed back into bed, but
never lay down. He sat in his bunk, staring at the floor, playing over and over
in his mind what he saw. Did he really see it? Or did he imagine it? How much
of last night was reality, and how much of it was just his old nightmares? He
ran a hand through his hair and felt rather helpless. Tired as he was, there
was no way that he’d get to sleep at this rate. With a sigh, he hopped off of
his bed and ambled into the bathroom, hoping that a shower would clear his
mind.
“Mr. Wildwing Flashblade…” a warning tone greeted
him as he entered the Ready Room.
The leader duck cringed for a moment. “Yeesh, you
sound like my mom.” he smirked.
“Well if you don’t want me to keep sounding that
way, you’ll pick up after yourself.” Tanya wagged a finger at him from Drake
1’s console. “Leaving food around all night, it’s a wonder we don’t have rats
in here!”
She was obviously joking, and it made Wildwing laugh
sincerely. Perhaps she’d taken his tired state to heart. “Too funny, Tanya.” he grinned, walking up the platform
and staring up at the screen. “Anything triggering the alarms today?”
“You would have heard it if it did.” she shook her
head. “Nothing, aren’t we lucky? Hey, are we gonna have practice at all today?”
She looked up at him. “It’s getting kinda late.”
Wildwing checked the watch in his com, and sighed.
“It is, isn’t it? Well, you know, I hate to call one off just for that reason,
but I’m still not feeling myself. If you guys want to go ahead and skate, I’ll
watch.”
“You didn’t pull anything, did you?”
“No, thank goodness.” he replied. “I guess we’ve
just been through a lot in the past couple of days, maybe I’m letting it get to
me too much.”
“Fssh, well, if I put up a playoff performance like
you did last night, I’d be tired too!” Tanya smirked. “I bet we could use your
insight from the bench, for once. Get Zelda to stop running around on the
boards like a chicken with her head cut off.”
“Are you sure that isn’t Nosedive?” Wildwing
grinned. “He’s usually the one to burn himself out early.”
Tanya wasn’t correct, at least not entirely.
Wildwing tried to stifle a yawn from the eighth row of seats on the Pond’s
lower tier, opting for an audience-eye view of today’s practice. Zelda did run
around a lot, but it was calculated. She’d made great progress from when the
team had first started playing. She knew very little about the sport then, and
had invented boardunning out of a combined desire to cheerlead and to keep a
close eye on players at risk. But she overran herself, tiring quickly, letting
the game push her beyond a sustainable pace. Now she’d developed it into an
NHL-approved part of the game, with its own special rules and equipment.
Combining her discipline as fighter with the skill of the sport had made her a
wizened coach, one that could lope right along and shout orders in the ears of
the intended. And because the Ducks understood her so well, those commands
could often come in simple snarls and barks, tosses of her head and wheeling
paws, translated from his own suggestions. He and Zelda stayed well attuned
during games. Something as insignificant as his body language would set her off
to the game’s mood and pace. She worked through him to control play as he
wanted it, to help him expect what was coming and to keep the team updated on
that was going on behind them in goal. To say the least, it was helpful. Now,
even without him on the ice, she was doing good work to corral a rather
reckless Nosedive on an odd-man rush. Smiling slightly at his brother’s
stubbornness, Wildwing leaned back in the padded seat. As his eyes wandered up
to the rafters in the ceiling, his mind drifted from the game below. As they
had so many times before during the day, his thoughts went back to the previous
night, to the Ready Room. What he had seen in that crystal had troubled him
greatly. He had reached the point where he started to doubt his eyes. Had he
really been seeing things? There was only one way to be sure, and when the
light had grown late and everyone else was sound asleep, he would prove himself
true or false. He would go back and look again, into the fractured gem.
Night and solitude. One was welcome, the other was
not. Wildwing needed to be alone, to go back and verify what he had seen the
night before. But he had been awake for nearly the entire day. His tired body
was fighting with his troubled mind, a tug-of-war that pulled him towards or
away from his bed. But the leader duck shook sleep off, pacing back to the
Ready Room after he was sure that everyone, even Zelda, was fast asleep. The
last thing he needed was to be interrupted by one of her late-night cycles of
rounds. The room itself was darkened, as was most of the underground Pond
during the night. It seemed to take him forever to get around the hulking frame
of Drake 1, listening to its low droning hum as it ran idle. He couldn’t
remember the last time that Tanya had actually turned the machine off, save for
when it was simply hacked to pieces during a Saurian invasion of the Pond. But
he was grateful for that. While he couldn’t stay up day and night to scan the
city for teleportation energy, the machine could. Now, he reached that
machine’s console, tapping in a few commands and an authorizing code. He winced
as the activity caused the computer to come out of standby. The screen flashed
on and cast a greenish white florescence into the room. As it had done the
night before, the storage chamber slid up from the floor. And as he had been
the night before, Wildwing was presented with four pieces of jewel, glimmering
in the shifting light of Drake 1’s screensaver. With tired eyes, he picked up a
shard and sank back into one of the console’s chairs, looking it over, watching
the false light glitter off of its faces. Though his mind was intensely
curious, his body was starting to nag him again. With a sigh, he realized that
he should probably have just gone to bed. Thinking this over with a clear head
would be much easier, and it seemed that he could afford to wait for one night.
Even a few hours sounded good… Slowly, he stood again, and reached a hand out
to put the piece of the crystal back in place. But just barely before his hand
touched the metal floor of the cubby, a wave of cold overcame him, washing over
him like a tangible blackness. And as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, and
he was back with the looming computer, and the glittering gems before him.
Wildwing backed away, nearly dropping the crystal shard in pure shock. He
suddenly knew things, things that he didn’t know just a moment before.
Confusion closed in thickly around him. How did he suddenly know? Did the crystal
automatically impart such things into his head? With shaking hands, he set the
fragment back in its cubby, by its three relations. He recalled what he had
just learned, running it over and over again in his head. There were four
shards of the crystal, and if he made a wish upon them, a random one of the
four would grant it for him. But there was a risk, a price involved. One of the
shards would grant his wish without any other actions, and aside from the
effects of the wish, his world would remain otherwise unchanged. One of the
shards would grant the wish, but automatically end the existence of one thing
he held dear. What was that thing? Would it be someone, or an object? The
Mask or his little brother? Another shard would grant the wish and eliminate
half of what he loved, while the final shard would destroy everything in
fulfilling his request. Like the most twisted game of dreidel that he’d
ever played. He had come here in the dead of night looking for answers, and
he’d found them. Now he was left with a sickening, hollow pit in his stomach,
and the even greater question of what to do next.
“That’ll be $7.50.”
“Huh?” Wildwing snorted slightly, shaking himself
fully awake. There was a familiar scent in the air.
“For the double mocha-latte.” Mallory smirked,
pushing it under his beak. “Just kidding of course, it’s the regular stuff from
the galley. But drink up anyway, you look like you’ve been put through the
wringer! Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”
“Coffee at the console like this?” Wildwing smirked
as he leaned back in one of Drake 1’s console chairs. “What would Tanya say?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” Mallory reminded
him with a smile.
Wildwing waved it off. “No.” he sighed, then taking
a long sip of the hot drink. “That does really hit the spot though.”
“Wow, well that’s not good.” Mallory frowned
slightly. “What a time to get insomnia eh? You know we’ve got a game today.”
“Yeah, yeah. Don’t you worry about me.” Wildwing
smiled. “Besides, it’s just against the—“
“Now where do you get off with that kind of talk?”
came a loud snarl from the distant corner. The two ducks turned to find Zelda
trotting with an angry pace towards them. Eyes set in a mock sternness, she
hopped up onto the back of Wildwing’s chair, bringing her snout close to his face.
“Am I not looking at the same Duck who insists that we play at our best,
regardless of the skill level of our opponents? That it’s only our will that
separates us from them? How dare I find you downplaying tonight’s visitor.”
“You make one evil cheerleader girl.” Wildwing
smiled petting her neck. “And you’re absolutely right. I shouldn’t be
dismissing them.”
“Practice today?” Mallory asked.
“I don’t think so.” Wildwing started. “And I’m not
taking the game too lightly, Zel. I think you guys all got a good workout
yesterday, we shouldn’t push it this morning. And me? I just need a good nap.”
“Then cut the coffee.” Mallory grabbed the cup away
from him. “And get to bed!”
“Alright, alright!” Wildwing conceded, chuckling.
“Just lemme run a few more things through the computer, wanted to
cross-reference some news stories with last night’s scan readings…”
“Always got Saurians on the brain. I suppose that is
our job.” Mallory nodded, patting his shoulder. “I should be off myself, Tanya
wanted some help with the ‘Grator. Seeya around!” With a wave, she started off
for a side exit door.
Wildwing sighed, turning back to the console and
leaning back in his chair, pinching Zelda’s claws against the backrest.
“Yow!” she hopped to the ground, shuffling her wings
on her back with a feigned offended snort.
“Heh, you gotta trim those nails girl.” Wildwing
glanced down at her for a moment with a quick grin.
“These ‘nails’ have gotten me out of quite a few
tough spots, and you too, if I remember right!” she huffed back up at him.
“It’s that bill of yours that needs some sanding down!”
“Beh.” Wildwing waved her off with a tired swipe.
“With all of that click-clacking around here, how do you expect us to get any
work done?”
“Haw haw haw.” Zelda rolled her eyes. “At least you
don’t go around making me wear those horrible little dog-booties. Should I
leave you to your cross-referencing then? Looks massively captivating.”
“Hm..?” Wildwing looked at her, confused.
“Didn’t you say you had to reference news reports
with last night’s scanner activity?” Zelda cocked her head.
Wildwing mentally kicked himself. That’s right, he’d
forgotten. There really wasn’t much of anything to look into, but he wanted to
look like he was keeping himself busy. “Oh, hah, yeah! Now you’re gonna tell me
how much I really need a nap, right?”
Zelda shook her head at him. “You really are beat.
Are you sure you’re okay? Doesn’t seem like just the game the other night is
what’s getting to you.”
Wildwing snorted in a false defense of being
offended. True, none of the team were so bold as to tell other members they
believed they weren’t getting the straight story from them. Was she insinuating
that he was covering something up, that he had a reason to hide something from
her? Even though she had hit the nail on the head, he had to put up an expected
rebuttal. “You worry too much girl.” he nodded to her.
But Zelda didn’t seem to be listening, hopping up on
the console next to him to a more level point of view. Zelda frowned slightly,
peering into his eyes.
He realized that he must look pretty haggard, his
eyes were probably bloodshot from the lack of sleep. And she could see deeper
than mere physical appearance. Grin probably could too, but her attenuation to
him, the skills she had learned from him on the ice, gave her an even deeper
perspective. Wildwing tried his best to present an emotional stonewall to her.
But strangely enough, he saw something in her, probably as much as she was
trying to see something in him. He carefully watched the muscles around her
eyes tense to raise her brows just slightly, the skin around her nostrils flare
as she exhaled an inaudible soft snort. Concern, she was concerned about him.
Wildwing let out a heavy sigh. This was getting far too complicated for his
taste. “It’s alright girl.” he started, offering her a small smile. “I’ve just
got a lot on my mind.”
“Forgive me for tailing you like I have been lately,
I guess I just don’t understand.” Zelda blinked back at him. “I’m not used to
that sort of thing.”
“I know, but nothing’s the matter, trust me.” he
gave her a reassuring scratch under the chin. Predictably, the dragon purred
back. “Just big stuff, complicated stuff. You don’t have to worry.”
“Doesn’t mean that I don’t anyway.” Zelda grinned.
“But you know you have someone to talk to, if you want, right?” She pulled away
from him for a moment, to look him in the eyes. “I’ll trust you if you want to
mull things over on your own, but in return I want you to trust me, if you
can’t find your answers. Or at least one of the team, anyway. Nobody should
have to feel alone amongst us.”
“Well I certainly don’t, and thanks for offering
girl.”
Zelda leaned back on the console with a light smile.
“You deserve it, big guy. Now, were you really going to stay up just to
cross-reference a bunch of reports?”
“Yes I was.” Wildwing nodded.
“Anything I can do to help?---“ Zelda’s offer was
cut off by a bleep at the console.
Wildwing punched in a few commands to bring up
Duke’s com feed on the screen.
“Hey, you down there Zelda?” he asked.
“I’m here, something the matter?” the dragon blinked
curiously.
“There’s another pigeon stuck in the rafters, must
have gotten in through the shipping bay doors this morning.” the duck sighed,
shaking his head. “Wouldja mind shooing it back outside?”
“Not at all.” Zelda nodded. “Poor thing, I hate
seeing birds trapped inside of buildings. I’ll be right up.” Wildwing closed
the com link as Zelda hopped off the console. “Guess you’re left to the minutia
alone!”
Wildwing grabbed at his heart as if he had been
struck, and swooned in his chair. “Oh woe is me!” he grinned. “However shall I
stand the boredom!?”
“Take a nap!” Zelda laughed back, half a suggestion
and half an order, as she bounced out of a side exit.
The white-feathered duck released a loud sigh of
relief as the door closed behind her. Finally, alone at last. Wildwing
was going to stay at the console, but felt slightly guilty because those
reports from last night were going to be left untouched. He was here to do
research, dig up anything he could find about Asteroth’s stone. He knew it
wasn’t going to be easy, it might not even be productive at all. The stone had,
after all, come from a completely separate dimension. People probably knew as
much about it here as they had about the Ducks, the Saurians, and Puckworld, before
they had all been transported here. But he had to try, and the internet was a
good place to start. As he surfed and skimmed, minutes ticked by, and nobody
came barging in. He hoped they wouldn’t, the last thing he needed now was
another break in his concentration. The others would have seen him looking
through some rather odd sources, to boot. Basic internet searches were turning
up strings of websites either marketing gemstones or tilting bizarre about
their mystical healing powers. He was looking for magic, yes, but his results
bordered on a faux occult. This was useless… Taking a different tactic, he
decided to go through a more academic route, searching through journal articles
and encyclopedias. Here there was more mention of magic, but as part of ritual
belief. Could he find something similar to Asteroth’s amulet? He was certainly
willing to try…
Nosedive winced at the loud crack that sounded near
his ear. “Yeesh Grinster! That is just creepy!”
The big duck at his side unlaced his hands and lowered
his arms to his sides again. “My apologies.” Grin smiled down to him.
“Meditating for too long in one position can result in stiffened muscles.”
“Yeah, we’ve kinda had a lazy day, haven’t we?” Dive
scratched his head. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“It is a rather rare thing, isn’t it?” Grin nodded.
“What do you plan to do with the time given to you?”
“What anybody my age should be doing nearly 24/7!”
the young duck replied emphatically. “Video games on the big screen!”
Grin tried to check himself from rolling his eyes.
“How productive.”
“Oh come on Grinster.” Nosedive huffed. “You were my
age once too, you know. Didn’t you used to do the same thing?”
Grin sighed, remembering an arcade he used to
frequent, years before he discovered his master and the Zen way of the game.
Usually he’d been there to bully others out of their allowances, so that he
could play until the place closed for the night. “In a way, yes.” he admitted.
“Then you know what I mean.” Nosedive grinned
victoriously. “Come on, you are totally jealous that your hands have grown too
big for the controllers.”
At this, Grin had to laugh. It was true! “Enjoy such
war games while you can, little one.” he folded his arms. “Soon you will find
things that are far more worth your time.”
“Hopefully not before the end of today!” Nosedive
smirked. “You’re takin’ up my precious game-time, my man!” He quickened his
pace towards the end of the corridor. The door opened before them, and he
walked ahead as Grin was catching up. Suddenly, Dive let out a rather devilish
smirk, turned around, and put a finger to his beak. “Be vewy, vewy quiet!” he
warned.
Curious, Grin frowned lightly and walked up, peering
up towards the console. “What’s going on?”
“You’ll wake the baby.” Nosedive giggled, hissing
through his teeth to contain his laughter.
Up at the console, still in his chair, Wildwing lay
slumped over the keyboard, asleep.
“Goodness…” Grin started.
“Man oh man, where’s a camera when you need one!?”
Nosedive hopped. “I bet he’s drooling! All over the keys! Tanya’s gonna be
pissed!”
Smiling, Grin shook his head. “You should let your
brother sleep.” he chided gently. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have picked the
console, if he had the choice between that and his bed.”
“Pssh, spoil sport!” Nosedive pouted. “I guess he
has been a little tuckered out lately. Alright, alright, I’ll go wake him up
the nice way!” The young duck was off up the stairs, giving his older
brother a gentle shake on the shoulder armor to wake him up.
Grin watched as Wildwing shook himself quickly, a
bit embarrassed. Nosedive wore a smirk the entire time, and Wildwing stood with
a nod. Before the pair walked away, Wildwing reached over and closed an
internet window that he had active. As he saw it flash off of Drake 1’s screen,
Grin was instantly curious about what had been on that page. But was it
anything to be curious about? Wildwing was probably checking up on yesterday’s
news stories, as he said he was going to do. Either way, it didn’t matter now.
He started to walk up the stairs as Nosedive accompanied his brother to the
side door, and saw him through it. After Wildwing had gone, he came back to the
console and started flipping through a drawer of game cartridges, grinning from
ear to ear.
“Fell asleep right in the middle of his work! Can
you believe it?” he chuckled. “He’s gonna owe me one for not taking blackmail
pictures.”
“What was he looking at, did you see?” Grin asked.
“Had some paper up in that window he closed, you know, like one of those journal article things?” Nosedive waved it off nonchalantly as he popped a cartridge into Drake 1 and plugged in a controller. “Them book learnin’s ain’t important ta guys like us!”
Chuckling at Nosedive’s overly heavy southern drawl,
Grin nodded and turned towards the same door Wildwing had gone through. “I’ll
leave you to your games then. More meditation for me, I suppose!”
Wildwing growled low in his throat as he kicked the
corner of his bunk bedpost. The growl turned into a yelp as he stubbed his toe,
squeaking higher in pain. He’d moved like a slug the entire game tonight! How
could he have let his team down? Especially when they had fought so hard. Aware
of his lack of rest, the others had all stepped up their game immensely,
wearing themselves down in the process to scramble and make up for him nearly falling
asleep in goal all night. Zelda had been pushing them hard the entire time,
foaming at the mouth by game’s end with exertion and frustration. What an idiot
he was! With the screaming crowd and the flashing lights, how could it be so
difficult to keep his attention on the game? And to lose by only a goal, after
his teammates had put in so much; everyone seemed a little deadened at the
game’s end. He couldn’t remember if anyone had really said anything in the
locker room afterward, everyone just stowed their equipment and went back below
to rest. He had too, but not before he’d made an important stop off in the
Ready Room. Now his legs felt like lead, his head full of cotton fuzz. All he
wanted to do was sleep, to ignore all of the nagging thoughts that were tugging
him back into the world of the conscious. Signing in resignation, he started to
pull back the sheets on his bed, kneading his hurt foot with the heel of the
other. He paused as he heard a noise, something coming from outside. There was
a familiar click-clacking of claws coming down the hallway. Great… just what he
needed now. Wildwing scooped the Mask up from its nighttime position on his
bedstand, and slipped it over his face. Looking through his wall and door with
the X-ray option, he could clearly see Zelda’s skeleton moving through the
hallway. She was dragging her woven reed hammock in her jaws. This was a
near-nightly routine for her. She didn’t have her own room, preferring not to
sleep by herself. So she’d wander the bunk hall and pick a member of the team
to spend the night with. In actuality, she didn’t sleep all that much, taking
up most of the night hours with the odd habit of patrolling the Pond’s various
levels. But she often chose to stay with those she knew were injured or otherwise
in trouble, thinking they might like the company. Often, that was indeed the
case. But she was going to head for his bunk tonight, and he did NOT want her
there. More questioning, more poking and prodding and stirring of his
already-addled mind. Wildwing watched as she approached his bunk door and
paused outside it, preparing to knock. But she never did. The dragon stood for
a few moments, staring at the door and twitching her ears, before turning and
continuing down the hall. Wildwing breathed a soft sigh of relief. He needed to
get some sleep, he admitted that to himself. But the next time he felt like
investigating Asteroth’s amulet, he wouldn’t have to do so under the
unconsciously prying eyes of his teammates. Wildwing reached into his pocket
and pulled out something wrapped in a dustcloth. It was one of the four
fragments of the gem, glittering in the overhead lights. Wildwing set it down
on his bedstand, next to the Mask. He’d have to continue his work tomorrow. For
now, he couldn’t expect to function properly without a little sleep, and
tonight’s game was proof. He climbed into bed, settled the sheets over him, and
was almost instantly asleep.
He dreamed that night in metaphors. Of hands ice
cold and slippery when his grip was needed firm. Of a mind frozen by fear when
he needed clarity. Punctuations of searing laser fire, explosions, numbness. He
tangled himself in his bedsheets and saw himself imprisoned by failure. That’s
what it all added up to in the end. Knots and ropes and chainlinks composed of
wrought and woven failure. Where was he through it all? Everything that had
happened to him, to his team, seemed as if it had taken place with some part of
him absent. Where was his courage, his spine, his clear head? He saw it in the
falling shadow of the best friend he had ever known. How could he have let go? Why?
The hundreds of ‘what if’ scenarios that he’d spent years pushing from his mind
now torrented into his thoughts. Had it really been Canard, who let go
of the Mask? Surely that wasn’t how it really happened… surely something had
gone wrong. And in his dreams, the Mask was gone, the consequence was gone.
Simply two friends, one willing to sacrifice, one begging for the other to
stay. It wasn’t a game anymore, it was real, and Wildwing was terrified. More
scared than he’d been, even in the Saurian labor camps. Here, he let his grip
fail because he was afraid, and the entire time, he’d stared fixed into
the eyes of his leader as his death was finalized, as his grip vanished, as he
vanished.
Wildwing awoke abruptly in the darkness of his room,
to find tears on his cheeks, and the shattered amulet clutched tightly in one
hand.
To be continued…