Equilibrium Fan Fiction by Judas Austin Taking Sides 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 Okay. Forget everything I said/thought/wrote about Halls earlier on in this diary. He not only made it out of the Tetra Grammaton, he got the others out as well. If I'm honest, the guy still makes the hairs rise on the back of my neck, but that doesn't matter, not considering what he did. And...Kia. God, even just writing or reading her name is enough to make this silly grin try to appear on my face, and I'm not sure why. Maybe it's something to do with those dizzying highs I kept hearing about back in Old Libria. Actually...now that I think about it, I remember Viviana doing something similar (or identical, I guess), before they took her away. It's strange. I haven't really thought about it since it happened. I wonder what would have happened...how it would have turned out if they hadn't... No. No, if I start going down that path, I'll never be able to keep a handle on myself. It's like Jurgen said that time; without restraint, emotion is chaos. Think of something else to write... On a slightly more worrying note, I...oh shit, I can barely write it for cringing... I was hungry enough to consume my first arachnid today, or as Jay put it, "hey, congrats Cleric, you just chomped your first bug!" And I don't care what she says about 'losing the vital juices and the crunch and that really cool wiggly sensation'; next time I am going to make one hundred and ten percent sure that it's dead before I put it in my mouth. And I don't care what Jay said about that only being necessary with the venomous specimens either; as far as I'm concerned, she doesn't know which Librian spiders are poisonous, and I'm taking no chances. We shared out the rations yesterday, but most of those are already gone, and Partridge and I didn't get a look in. Even Jurgen got more than us...though given the state he's in, I guess I shouldn't begrudge him any. They wouldn't have fed him at the Palace of Justice, I know. Funny, though. Even Halls seemed nauseated at the idea of eating insects. I don't know why I find that odd...except I do know for a fact that he's not a particularly squeamish man. Then again, he is a particularly weird one, so maybe that answers the question. So. From the highest-ranking Cleric in the Tetra Grammaton, to joint head of New Libria, to the leader of a bunch of guerrillas who live on insects. Is it just me, or does anyone else see something wrong with this picture? --John Preston, Grammaton Cleric First Class "Too bad you couldn't have got the others out," Preston said. Halls glowered at him. He was aching from the shoulders down, his leg felt like it was being chewed up from the inside out and he was in no mood for criticism. "Excuse me? If you want, I could take your kid and girlfriend back, lock them in their nice little cells and leave them to be processed...? I didn't have to bring them, you know!" Preston dropped his gaze. "You're right. I'm...sorry." He cleared his throat. "Thank you," he added. His tone was somewhat awkward, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in it. Halls blinked. For the briefest split second he looked almost startled, then the expression vanished to be replaced by his usual impassivity. "You're welcome." "You're back, then," Rossiter said, glancing up from the book he was reading. "Oh, and there was me thinking you were stupid," Halls drawled. "Yes, Rossiter, I'm back." Rossiter grimaced. "Damn! That means I owe Al five creds." Halls raised his eyebrows. "Your confidence in me is overwhelming. Really." He shook his head. "I think you're actually missing the Tetra Grammaton, Rossiter. At least the sense offending Clerics who decided to stay got good meals and a roof over their heads." Preston shot Rossiter a startled look. He'd always assumed the young Cleric had been like most other sense offenders; juggling a life in Libria with another in the Underground. "Why did you leave?" he asked. "Because he suffers from terminal stupidity," Halls answered smoothly. "Who the fuck asked you?" Rossiter said belligerently. Halls smirked. "Well, since you probably won't tell Preston the truth..." Rossiter's eyes narrowed into slits. "It was a perfectly legitimate mistake, Halls." "Actually, it wasn't. That was sorta the problem, wasn't it?" "Screw you." Rossiter turned away abruptly. Halls' smirk widened. "Thanks, but you're not my type." Rossiter's head snapped around. "Say what?" "Look, Rossiter," now Halls' voice had that reasonable tone which borders on the patronising, "just face facts. You fucked up big time." "Other people did it." "Yes, but those other people didn't work in the Tetra Grammaton." "And the way Jurgen reacted to it; it was like we'd already lost the war." "Yes, but-" "I mean, is it just me, or does anyone else think that guy has serious issues somewhere?" "Yes, but Rossiter," Halls said very patiently, "if you must smuggle a transmitter into the Tetra Grammaton and if you must insist on using it to listen to illegal EC-10 music, you do have to remember not to start singing along." Preston almost laughed, caught it just in time. He supposed it wasn't really funny, but still... "Thank you," Rossiter said, without parting his teeth. "Are you done embarrassing me yet?" "Embarrass you?" Halls said in the mock-cheerful tones Preston had already learned to dread. "Me embarrass you? C'mon, if I wanted to embarrass you, Rossiter, I'd tell Teresa all about the time that female nudist was brought in for questioning and you-" "Shut it!" Rossiter said sharply, noticing for the first time the heads turned in their direction. Halls' smirk widened. "Temper, temper. Tell me something, Rossiter. How have you even survived this long?" "I happen to be a master of the Gun-Kata," Rossiter said, in the haughtiest tones he could contrive. "Oh really? Funny, that's not what your records say." "Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Halls stretched leisurely. "Now that you mention it, yes. I have to talk to Jurgen about something." "You're still planning to leave, then?" Partridge said. Halls glanced at him. "I never said I wasn't," he answered shortly. He'd shown no surprise at finding Partridge alive and well, although this could probably be chalked up to habit. Jurgen had once remarked that you could blast a hole through the young man's apartment and he probably wouldn't do much more than blink before putting a bullet through your skull. "You'll be missed." Halls snorted. "Don't make me laugh. Oops, too late; you did. Can you honestly say that there wasn't one person who didn't breathe a sigh of relief when they heard I was gone? Apart from Jurgen, I mean." No, Partridge didn't think he could. Sometimes he got the distinct impression that Halls, for all his youth, was somehow far older than Partridge himself could ever expect to be. "I'm not stupid, Partridge," Halls added. "I know what people say about me. I put up with it before Preston overthrew Father because I didn't have a choice, and I put up with it after that because Jurgen asked me to stay for a while, but there's nothing more for me here and I see absolutely no reason why I should stay." "Are you mad?" Partridge said. "We're stranded in the Nethers, in need of every helping hand we can get-particularly Clerical ones-and you think there's nothing to stay here for?" "You want another Cleric? You've got that rookie." Halls nodded towards Taselli, who was sleeping with his back propped against a sweeper, snoring gently. "Use him, not me. I'm through with this shit. Add him to your list of statistics if you want." "Rookie is the word, at least when it comes to that one. And you're more than just a statistic, Halls." "Oh, that's right. I'm a freaky statistic. Why don't you just fuck off my case, Partridge?" Halls got abruptly to his feet, whirled and stalked off. Klondike gave Partridge a look that was far from friendly, then padded after the Cleric. "Your partner's still alive," Partridge called after him. Halls froze, motionless, then turned slowly around to face him, a dark expression on his face. "You have a very sick sense of humour," he said icily. "Do us both a favour and take it somewhere else, huh?" "What, you think I'd joke about something like that?" Partridge said incredulously. "How the fuck should I know?" Without waiting for a reply, Halls spun on his heel and strode away, Klondike trotting by his side. "You know, I thought he'd gotten over this by now," Partridge muttered to Jurgen. "You were wrong." Partridge snorted. "Obviously." He paused. "D'you know why he's such an arrogant bastard?" he asked suddenly. "I know there's a reason behind it. There has to be." "Yes," Jurgen answered very quietly. "I know. But it's not the kind of thing that I'm going to spill. Some things are best left well alone." "Like-and this is just off the top of my head, completely at random, you understand-like things involving rubber gloves?" Partridge said innocently. Jurgen glowered at him. "Will you shut up about that!" he said heatedly. "First Halls, now you, and both in the last twenty four hours! Is nothing sacred anymore!?" He paused. "How the hell do you know about it, anyway?" he added. "I have my ways," Partridge said, smirking very slightly. "You're forgetting who brought you into the hospital." He paused. "Speaking of that," he went on, no longer smirking, "you can't let Halls go." "Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Partridge," Jurgen said frostily. "Christ almighty, Jurgen, the guy can barely walk! Signing his release papers now would be like sending him to his death!" "Do you think I don't know that?" Jurgen shot back. "The guy's my friend, Partridge, in case you'd forgotten that little detail!" "Then can't you get him to stay?" Jurgen smiled thinly. "When he was seventeen, he swore to me he was going to eradicate the Resistance at any costs. And ever since I met him, he's said he wants nothing to do with the Resistance. Based on that, he's 'stayed' for eleven years. I don't think appealing to his sense of loyalty is going to do much now." "Damn straight," Halls said from behind them, making both men jump. He looked at Jurgen, eyebrows raised. "Well?" "Well what?" Jurgen demanded somewhat testily, trying to slow his heart rate to something approaching normal. Some day he'd have to give Kevin Halls a talk about not sneaking up behind him, or failing that a siren. "You owe me," Halls said flatly, his eyes never leaving Jurgen's face. The other man hesitated, then sighed. "Are you sure this is what you want?" "Positive," Halls answered, his tone curt. "Hand it over." "Give me a moment to write it!" Jurgen protested. He shook his head. "Far be it from me, but I think you're making a very real mistake." "Yeah?" Halls gave a humourless laugh. "Well. You might say it's a hobby of mine." Jurgen hesitated, then sighed, reaching down to tear a piece of paper off the notepad next to the Cleric. "Alright. Partridge, can you pass me that pen?" "What?" Partridge stared from one to the other. "You...you're joking, right?" "No," Jurgen said. He felt queerly deflated as he looked at Halls. "He's right. We had a deal." "You can't agree to-" Partridge began heatedly. "I can and I am," Jurgen cut across. He turned, using the wall to write on. The writing itself was pretty shaky, partly due to his injured hands and partly due to the roughness of the wall, but it was legible. Jurgen read through what he'd written, then signed it and held it out to Halls. "If you're sure-" "Damn right I am." Halls took the paper from Jurgen's hand. There was a silence, then Jurgen nodded slightly. "Alright. Good luck." Halls favoured him with a thin smile. "I think it's a little late for luck, Jurgen. But...thanks." He turned and limped towards an alley that still looked reasonably clear. "Did you edit your record at all?" Preston said as the younger Cleric drew level with him. Halls blinked, momentarily startled. "What?" Preston looked up from the notepad resting on his knees. He was sitting with his back propped against what had to have been a fountain at one point, even if the only water it now contained was melted snow. "Your record. Did you edit it in any way?" Halls raised languid eyebrows. "Oh, now whatever gives you that idea?" "I'm not interested in playing mind games with you, Halls. I'm not even going to give you the satisfaction of hearing me ask what it said before, if it even said anything before you edited it which it probably did, else why would you?" "...What?" Halls said after a short pause. Preston sighed. "Did you edit it?" "You haven't answered my earlier question," Halls pointed out, reaching down to scratch Klondike behind the ears. "What makes you think that?" Preston took one or two deep breaths in order to hang onto his temper. "Okay. Fine. You don't plant bugs in a system for no reason. You put them there because you knew I was going to look you up, and you wanted to delay me long enough for you to change a few bits and pieces." Halls snickered quietly. "Ooh, you're good, Preston. Alright. Yes, I did make one or two, ah, adjustments." "Which sections did you 'ah, adjust'?" Halls blinked. "Distinguishing features and the one about any other notes. Why?" "That other notes section. Did you copy the format from another record?" Halls snorted. "Yes, but it's hardly rocket science, Preston. If there's no other notes, you write the word 'None'," he added, in the slow, measured tones of someone explaining something to a three year old. "Why?" "I was working on the Matthews incident. Not that it matters now, I guess, but it's something to do. On his file, under the other notes section, it's just blank. You wouldn't edit it just to remove the word 'none', so something else must have been removed instead." Preston considered. "And I believe yours to be the more accurate deception, since you're the most underhanded person I've ever met." Halls hesitated, not entirely sure whether this was a compliment, an insult, or a statement of fact. "You said you knew him," Preston said. "Yeah, but not to that extent, Preston. He didn't exactly spill his deepest darkest secrets to me." "Damn." Preston sat back. It had been a long shot at best. He glanced up at Halls as if noticing the other Cleric for the first time. "Where are you going?" Halls rolled his eyes. "I don't know, alright? Anywhere but here." "What?" Preston was genuinely taken aback. "Why?" "Don't play dumb with me, Preston. Jurgen said you were intelligent, although I've known him to be wrong and I've yet to see any proof." Halls shook his head. "Cleric, if you think I'm stupid enough to believe any of that shit about freedom in the Resistance, you're both mentally and seriously disturbed." "Halls, if you think either Jurgen or myself are going to-" "Jurgen's already agreed to let me go," Halls cut across, "and since I'm in possession of my release papers, I no longer report to you...not that I ever really did," he added. Preston shook his head, trying to understand. "Why?" he said again. Halls shrugged. "I'm a fucking oddball, Preston. You said it yourself. If all you and your New Libria can offer me is the chance to be seen as a freak for the rest of my life, you can shove it up your ass sideways and sit on it." "Jurgen's not going to like it." "Oh, he doesn't." Halls smiled coldly. "A word to the fucking blind, Preston. Don't make the mistake of thinking you're important, either to Jurgen or the rest of 'em. If you weren't a Cleric, do you honestly think that anyone would bother giving you the time of day? A weapon, Preston, and a means for them to save their own skins. That's all you are to anyone. That's all you'll ever mean to them." Preston regarded him quietly. "Then I still mean something here." "As a pet Cleric, sure. As a real person, uh uh. Forget it." Preston raised his eyebrows. "Halls?" "What?" "What happened to put you so against the Resistance?" Halls snorted. "Nothing I plan to discuss with you, Preston. If you're so curious, why don't you go ask your buddy Jurgen?" "Because you know as well as I do that if you ask Jurgen what the time is, he's likely to tell you it's classified." Preston glanced around. "Do me one favour?" "Haven't I done you enough already?" Halls drawled. To his private surprise, the Cleric turned red and dropped his gaze. "Just...wait a while. If you leave right now, like this, I think morale's going to plummet. Clerics striking out on their own doesn't do much for the overall confidence of a group of civilians. I don't want people thinking our situation here is completely hopeless." "They'll find out sooner or later, Preston," Halls said with a shrug. "You're not helping," Preston said flatly. "Just...stay a little longer. Just until tonight." Halls raised his eyebrows. "And what's going to happen tonight, Preston? Are you and Jurgen going to try and convince me to stick around a little longer?" "No," Preston answered. It wasn't quite a lie; his thoughts were running more along the lines of banging Halls on the head while he slept, or tearing up those damn release papers. He supposed Jurgen must have had his reasons, but it was damn inconvenient just the same! "Riiight," Halls said, in a tone of voice which said he didn't believe Preston for a minute. The Cleric supposed he couldn't blame him. "Just until tonight," he repeated. "Things are getting a little strained around here." "And you think my being here is going to help matters?" Halls said, with an incredulity that wasn't entirely feigned. No, Preston didn't think it was. But if there was going to be trouble...he could do a lot worse than have Cleric Halls on his side. "I think we need added security," he said aloud. "What about your new friend?" Halls nodded towards where Jay was talking to Naisha. "She's been in a slightly tense mood all morning, though I'm not sure why." Halls rolled his eyes. "Oh god, Preston, isn't it obvious?" When the older Cleric continued to look perplexed, he went on. "You agreed to let her into your little group, to get her residency in New Libria-or what's left of it-on the condition that she helped you break me, Jurgen and your kid out. Now we've just turned up and you've no further need of her, so right now I'd say she's worried about what's going to happen to her. She can't go to the Renegades, she won't go back to that other group, she's not crazy enough to try and get into Old Libria and if she can't get into New Libria she's either stuck on her own in the Nethers or making her way back to Xylyx or Gehenna or whatever you want to call it." Preston raised his eyebrows. "She can't think we're going to throw her out just because she's of no use to us at this specific moment in time!" he said disbelievingly. "Why not? That's probably what they'd do back where she comes from. And she's not about to argue with you because I imagine that's seen as tantamount to a challenge and she's got no desire to take you on in single combat." Preston stared at him. "I used to subscribe to Colonies," Halls said with a shrug, referring to the news magazine dealing with events in those places outside Libria and the Nethers. "It's very pro-Libria and anti-everywhere else, but one thing it and all the other accounts agree upon is that Xylyx is...how should I put this? Physical? Law of the jungle and all that. The strong survive, the weak get sliced, diced and fricasseed." "You're not talking about cannibalism, are you?" Preston said. "Well, it happens in some of the more inhospitable regions," Halls said with a shrug, "but that wasn't entirely what I meant. Still, I've heard that human flesh is particularly nice." "Who from?" Preston demanded. A nasty suspicion took root in his mind. Surely...no, not even Halls would have... Halls raised his eyebrows. "Preston, I can tell you now and under any truth drug and polygraph test you want to administer that I have done a lot of bad shit in my life, shit I'm not proud of, but I have never resorted to that." There was a silence. "What did those magazines say about Entropia?" Preston asked suddenly. Something about it...he couldn't get Partridge's story out of his head. Halls raised an eyebrow. "Branded them lying bastards and said that they were seeking to overthrow the Librian government. Then again, the Council tended to say the same thing about all non-Librians. Claimed they were barbarians and savages not worth our time." "That's a lie!" Partridge said, before he could stop himself. Halls arched the other eyebrow. "And this surprises you because...?" When neither man answered, he shook his head. "Okay. Basic fact of life number one. All governments are corrupt. Nobody ever got to be a politician through being honest." There was a pause. "I don't believe that," Preston said. "Shit, Preston," Halls said exasperatedly, "you saw Father's identity revealed, saw the hoard of EC-10 he had stashed away, saw DuPont lose his cool with you and you still think he was on Prozium?" "Father was-" "Father came into being in 2197," Halls cut across. "That's over four hundred years ago. Didn't you ever stop to wonder how he'd lived so long?" "Well, I..." Partridge began, then glanced at Preston and saw the same answer in his partner's face. They hadn't wondered, either of them, because it had simply never entered their heads. It wasn't in any Prozium junkie's nature to be curious about things. Halls shook his head. "Pitiful. Just pitiful. And they called you intuitive." "Inquisitiveness is not a particularly valued trait among those on the dose!" Partridge said sharply. "You remember what it was like, Halls! You..." He caught sight of the look on the younger Cleric's face and abruptly fell silent. "No," Halls said. Preston didn't think he'd ever heard anyone's voice sound that cold before. "Oddly enough, Partridge, I don't." There was a clack as one of his sidearms was snapped into his hand. "Care to debate this further?" There was a strained silence. "If you think you can-" Preston began sharply, but his partner shook his head, cutting him off. "No. He's right." He glanced at Halls. "I'm sor-" "Save your breath," Halls overrode him curtly. "I'm outta here." He turned and stalked off. Partridge caught hold of Preston as the other Cleric attempted to follow. "Let him alone. I was out of order." "He can't go around pulling his guns on everyone who sneezes at the wrong time!" Preston said heatedly. Partridge raised his eyebrows. "'Can't'? I don't think he knows the meaning of the word. Look, give him a break, Preston; he'll come round." "Maybe he was dosed in the Tetra Grammaton, Partridge," Preston said sharply. "Ever think of that?" "Yes. So what? He's immune, remember? They could pump him full of an entire factory's worth of Prozium and it might as well just be water for all the effect it would have on him." "I still don't think he should just wander off like that. What if he winds up back in the Palace of Justice?" Partridge snorted. "Even he's not that headstrong." Preston shook his head despairingly-had everyone except him run mad?-and started after Halls. He'd gotten a few yards down the road when his foot caught on a loose tile and he stumbled, just managing to catch himself one handed on the wall. Since all Clerics followed the basic feline principles of 'whatever you do, make it look intentional' he turned and made a show of examining the fountain there. It wasn't much to look at; the stone was cracked and covered in moss, and any water had long since dried up. A pair of stone fish, the centrepiece of the fountain, was just about visible under the snow. The Cleric had seen numerous fountains that followed a similar theme; although on or off the dose, he'd never been able to understand what was so wonderful about a pond that had supposedly been vomited into existence by some animal. "You seem a little down in the dumps," Jay said cheerfully from behind him. Out of all of them, Jay was the only person who seemed unaffected by the harsh regime. Preston grunted noncommittally, then turned. It was probably worth an ask... "Jay?" "Yup?" "You're a female, aren't you?" Preston didn't know why he was talking to Jay of all people about this...except she was about the only person he could trust not to flinch whenever he spoke to them, or in the case of several younger girls and women, get an inexplicable fit of the giggles. He was starting to get a little self-conscious about that. A wicked glint came into Jay's eyes. "Dunno. Lemme check." Before the startled Cleric had time to react, Jay had half opened her top and was peering down it with an expression of studious interest. Reddening, Preston hastily averted his eyes just as Jay raised her own. "Yup," she said again, "they're real." Fastening the collar against the bitter cold, she raised dark eyebrows at him. "Why the curiosity?" "It's...I just..." Preston hesitated. "Never mind," he said abruptly. Jay rolled her eyes. "Yes, Cleric, I do think that that redhead likes you. You don't just go up and play tonsil tennis with someone you don't care for." Next to Preston, Partridge caught sight of the expression on his partner's face and hastily ducked behind his book. It wasn't often that people dared to speak so openly to Preston. "You have...an interesting turn of phrase," Preston said slowly. Jay smirked. "Thanks. Why the interest, anyway?" "Oh, he's worried because Kia hasn't been around him lately," Halls drawled from the other side of the street, loudly enough to be heard all down it. "Of course, the idea hasn't yet occurred to Preston that she might have more important things to do than stoke his ego and make him feel good." "Like what?" Preston demanded, then wished he hadn't. He hadn't meant for it to come out like that. Halls examined his nails. "Oh, I dunno. Maybe washing her hair, getting a manicure, waxing her bikini line or whatever else is more entertaining than an hour of your company," he said lazily. "Maybe you're such a bad kisser she decided to cut her losses." "Will you leave him alone for one minute?!" Partridge said sharply. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Halls raised his eyebrows. "Me? I think I'm the guy who got him, his girlfriend, his friend and his daughter out of the Tetra Grammaton and Palace of Justice. Why do you ask?" "You think that could be it?" Preston said suddenly, a worried look on his face. "That...you know." Halls rolled his eyes. "I think you take things far too seriously, Preston! I don't know what you're like as a kisser and I'm sure you'll excuse me if I say that I do not want to experiment either! But if you really want to know, I'm sure that every female around with a sex drive and a pair of lips will be more than happy to give you feedback." "Something the matter?" Preston said very politely to Partridge, who was trying-somewhat unsuccessfully-to choke down a laugh. "You must have some idea if she likes you, Cleric," Jay said lazily, from where she was now stretched full length in a snowdrift, hands laced behind her head. Preston had given up wondering how she managed that without freezing. "I don't know!" he said, slightly waspishly. "Funnily enough, the finer points of courtship were not on the Monastery curriculum!" "Well, don't look at me," Jay said. "The intricacies of relationships between Librian sense offenders are so bloody numerous and complicated I think it's a fucking miracle your race hasn't died out yet." "You and Al didn't seem to have much trouble," Preston remarked, with unusual acidity. "Al happens to be healthy, physically muscular, unattached, intelligent and completely sane," Jay said. "Do you realise how hard it is to find a guy with all those traits in Gehenna? Most are completely off their rocker and couldn't find the sky with both eyes and a compass on a starry night." She shook her head. "Don't take it so much to heart, though, Cleric. Lots of men get tongue-tied around a pretty girl. It just proves you're human is all." Preston thought privately that inhumanity wasn't too high a price to pay in exchange for a conversation or meeting with Kia he could look back on without cringing, but kept his mouth shut on that score. Instead he said, "Alright, fine. But how...uh...in Gehenna, how do you go about...um...telling the opposite party of the other gender you feel...that is...well..." Jay let him go on for a full minute by the clock, watching the Cleric's face get redder and redder before finally taking pity on him and saying, "Usually we just drag them into the bushes or the nearest empty cave. I'm not sure that would be a good idea here though; the only 'bushes' you're likely to find is that thicket of nettles." Preston shot her a look. There were times when he wasn't entirely sure if Jay was being serious, or if he was being wound up. Some of the things she said were just too incredible... "Don't you have any romance in your soul?" Partridge said, idly curious. Talking to Jay was always interesting, if nothing else. It was strange, yet somehow refreshing to hold a conversation with someone who had absolutely no concept whatsoever of inhibitions or taboo subjects. "Not really," Jay said bluntly. "I mean, that shit's fine for them that like it, Cleric, but when you don't have much time, and you're freezing, and you're starving and you're probably being hunted by something you're not aware of, things like, 'You have eyes like two beautiful fish' tend to go by the by." There was a thoughtful silence. "Fish?" Partridge echoed. "Yup. They glisten, they're wet and most of them are actually pretty nice to look at." Jay considered. "Of course, they're a lot nicer to eat," she added. "Yes, but if I were to tell Kia she had fish eyes, how long do you think I'd have before she slapped me?" Preston said flatly. "Don't you have any better compliments?" Jay raised an eyebrow. "Let's see. Remarking on muscles, combat skills, age...that usually works in Gehenna. I've no idea what a Librian would appreciate." She shook her head. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation!" she added. "Not now of all times." "What's that supposed to mean?" Partridge wanted to know. Jay rolled her eyes. "Remind me to teach you two how to tell the weather at some point. Right now, you'll have to take my word for it. Now would be a very, very good time to get into that nice dry room you found," she told them, in the tones of one explaining something to a mentally handicapped person. The two Clerics glanced up at the night sky. It didn't seem particularly threatening to either of them. Then again, weather forecasting wasn't a major part of Librian day-to-day life, even in the Tetra Grammaton. "Alright," Preston said heavily, glancing at Partridge. "I'll get the books and see you inside." The room in question was the best one they'd found yet, and was the main reason why they hadn't moved on. Getting everyone in was a squeeze, but at least it was warm, and dry. As Preston approached, he noticed Halls leaning against the outside wall, paler than usual, Klondike sitting contentedly by his feet. "You might want to join us," Preston said pointedly. Halls glanced past him into the small room, which was already pretty crowded, then shook his head. "No thanks." "You'll need shelter when that thing hits." "That's alright. I've stayed outside before." "Clearly not so far north, or you wouldn't say that," Preston retorted. "Come inside before you freeze to death." Halls shook his head again. "I said no. Seems someone has to keep a watch while you all snuggle in warm and toasty together. Allow me to volunteer. After all, unlike you, I'm not tired." Preston wasn't giving up that easily. "I don't believe you," he said calmly. Halls shrugged. "Believe what you want, Cleric. Besides, this leg's bugging me so much I doubt I'd be able to sleep even if I wanted, so I might as well stay on watch." A slightly enigmatic expression crept over Halls' face. "Not to mention there are so many people in there...coming and going...it would be a real shame if my release papers accidentally went missing or got damaged, after all the hell I had to go through to get them. Wouldn't it, Preston?" Preston dropped his gaze. "I don't get it," Halls said candidly, eyeing the older Cleric narrowly. "Two weeks ago, my leaving would probably be a good excuse for you to throw a party, Preston. Hell, you'd probably help me pack. What's changed?" "You saved my daughter's life," Preston said very quietly. "Not hers; Jurgen's. Your sprog just happened to be around at the time." "I'd have thought at least you'd want to say goodbye to your partner," Preston said calmly. Halls stared at him through slitted eyes. "Do you want to repeat that, Preston?" "I beg your pardon?" Preston frowned slightly, trying to understand the sudden venom in the Cleric's tone. "Your partner said something similar to me. I'll tell you the same thing I told him; if this is some kind of joke, it's in the worst possible taste." "Do you really think Partridge is spiteful?" Preston said flatly. "Never mind what you think of me, at least for the minute." "Neither would surprise me," Halls answered. "Then you don't know him half as well as you seem to think," Preston told him. Briefly he wondered if Halls was so paranoid as to honestly believe that people would make up lies like that just to get at him, then mentally cursed himself for asking such a stupid question. Some people saw the glass half full, some saw it half empty, but Kevin Halls was the only person Preston had ever met who'd test it for poison and then pour it down the sink. He shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a seriously bad attitude problem?" Halls quirked an eyebrow at him. "I don't have a problem with my bad attitude, Preston. Since I wasn't allowed any kind of one in the Tetra Grammaton-" "-you're making up for lost time now?" Preston finished, not even trying to keep the bite out of his tones." "Your words, not mine," Halls said smoothly. "Hadn't you better get inside if you don't want to freeze?" "What about you?" The younger Cleric tipped his head on one side with his hands clasped, batting his eyelashes. "Why, Preston! You do care!" "Don't get your hopes up!" Preston shot back. "I only asked because for a couple of minutes back there, it seemed like you might actually be a halfway decent human being." He paused. "Guess I was wrong," he added coldly. Something flickered very briefly in Halls' eyes, then his usual impassive mask was pulled across his face with such speed that Preston couldn't help thinking he must have imagined that other expression. "Yeah," he said icily. "I guess you were, Preston. You better get inside now, before I change my mind about standing watch." Preston's eyes narrowed slightly, then he abruptly whirled and stalked into the building. Screw Halls. Let him freeze to death, if that was what he wanted so badly. "Not very charitable of you," Partridge remarked easily as Preston came up to him. "Fuck charity," Preston said succinctly, then sighed. "You know, I know I owe him Lisa's life, and mine, but that guy is really starting to get me down. All I did was try and tell him about Kernachan!" Partridge raised his eyebrows. "And what would you have said if Jurgen had attempted to tell you that I was still alive?" He shook his head. "Look. I'm drained, you're drained, and if Halls wants to keep watch, let him. Given his eyesight, I think we'll be safe enough." Preston hesitated, then sat down reluctantly. A few minutes rest couldn't hurt, and this concrete was actually rather comfortable... A slight noise woke Preston a few hours later, and he jerked to his feet, awake and alert before he really knew what was happening. "Dad?" That was Lisa, who had refused point blank to leave Preston's side ever since getting back. The Cleric glanced down at her. "Go back to sleep," he told her, his voice crisp but not necessarily unkind, and strode outside. Halls was gone. For a minute, Preston felt irritation wash over him-what did the guy think he was doing, leaving them unguarded in the middle of the night like that??-but this was rapidly replaced by a strange sort of understanding and even a kind of wry amusement. He should have known better than to think his orders alone would be enough to keep Halls from leaving. "He's not coming back, is he?" Lisa said, appearing next to him. It was on the tip of Preston's tongue to tell her to get back inside before she caught a cold, but he swallowed it with an effort, and glanced down at her. "No. I don't think he is." There was a silence. "I'm glad," Lisa said suddenly. "He said he was tired of all the fighting. Maybe he'll be able to relax for once without everyone waiting for him to murder them." She paused. "I sort of feel sorry for him. I mean, I know he's a bit weird and stuff but he saved me'n'you'n'Jurgen'n'everyone else there. And Jurgen said he did loads of stuff when he was younger and saved more people than almost anyone else, but I don't think anyone ever said thankyou to him." "I did," Preston said, and was surprised (and a little uncomfortable) to hear how defensive he sounded. What the hell did it matter now, anyway? Lisa snorted. "Only 'cause he embarrassed you into it, right?" she said, with a lot more truth than Preston was prepared to admit. "He said he'd only stick with us long enough to get us all back to you though." "He did?" Preston glanced at her. "What else did he say?" "Um..." Lisa hesitated. "I, uh, I don't remember." "Yes you do." "Well...okay, so I do, but you told me back in New Libria that if you heard me saying words like that again, you'd ground me for a month. And that if I must listen to what Cleric Halls said, I wasn't to repeat any of it." Preston cast his mind back, trying to remember. Given Halls' fluency in expletives that even a sweeper couldn't rival, he probably had said something like that to Lisa, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall it. "When?" he said. "Um..." Lisa frowned. "I think it was when I asked you why Halls called Richardson a retarded monkey with the looks of a fucking offender halfway through processing and the brainpower of a half-witted brick with concussion." Well, coming from Halls, that was almost a compliment, Preston thought wryly. Instinct warned him of a threat and his hand abruptly shot up and caught the snowball that had appeared almost out of nowhere a few inches above Lisa's head. For a second or two he hesitated, then an almost invisible gleam crept into his eyes and he hurled it back. There was a high pitched yelp, followed by Jay saying peevishly from somewhere in the darkness "Very bloody funny, Cleric!" "Turnabout is fair play," Preston answered smoothly. "Don't you ever sleep?" "Not until I'm too exhausted to go on," Jay answered. Judging from her voice, she was skirting around them, probably looking for a nice roof to lie on, Preston thought sourly. He really would have to get her to show him how to climb like that. "Preston?" That was Partridge, and Preston suppressed a grim smile. He didn't think anyone had ever been so attuned to him as his partner. "Halls is gone," he said bluntly. Partridge raised an eyebrow. "Already?" There was a silence. "You don't seem too surprised," Preston remarked. Partridge snorted. "Get real, Preston. The only thing I find surprising is that he stuck it out as long as he did." "You knew him from before, didn't you." It wasn't a question. Partridge shrugged, then nodded. "Yeah. When I first met him, he was pointing his guns at my head." He considered. "Fair's fair, though, I was pointing mine at his." Preston glanced at his partner, startled. "We bumped into each other in the Underground," Partridge said testily, in the manner of one who has had to explain this several times. "Literally." Preston opened his mouth, but the sound of footsteps from behind cut him off and he shut it again, his thoughts unspoken. "John?" Kia stood in the doorway, shivering slightly in the night air. "Are you coming back inside?" There was a slightly awkward silence. "Go on," Partridge said eventually, relenting. "I'll cover for you out here." What felt like the first real smile in ages appeared on Preston's face as he glanced back at Kia. What was it that those pre-Librian philosophers always said? Every cloud had an argent interior? Well. Something like that, anyway.   Comment on the Message Board more Equilibrium Fan Fiction