When Places Call by Kaylim
with blinding light.
Iguru breathed out.
Everything became darkness and silence.
The roof was gone. Stars twinkled above them, unobscured by pollution or light, and they seemed so close, closer than even when Iguru was out among them. Wind whipped through the remains, and like an old temple, the cracked walls groaned and swayed with the weather. The ground was cold and unforgiving beneath Iguru’s knees, but he didn’t bother to stand up.
Corn-silk hair spilled across Iguru’s thighs and Kira’s long limbs rested heavily against Iguru’s lap and the cement pad of the balcony. Kira’s bright blue eye stared up at the heavens and Iguru could see all the light-years in the glassy sheen of his pupil. He swallowed heavily.
Gradually, lights began to flicker on, emergency pod lights that must have been set in the foundation when the mansion was first built. There was little left of it now. The hangar was mere dirt, with The Naked Rose resting securely in the middle of the chaos, a little burnt but not broken. Ananke was practically destroyed; what was left of her and the portal was misshapen and lit with fiery wires.
One of the nearby consoles popped and crackled, letting out a tiny bout of smoke. Iguru scooped up Kira’s limp body and staggered away from the console. He limped to the only place he knew he wanted to go: his ship.
The dirt yielded under his footsteps, fresh and slightly moldy. Around them, strewn bits of the mansion rested like leftovers from a battle that never took place. Iguru dragged a hand through Kira’s hair and finally, finally, Kira let out a breath, long and slow.
“This planet has no name. My father didn’t give it one.”
Cradled in Iguru’s arms, he seemed protected from all of this, from what was left.
“He was an inventor. A scientist. A mad scientist, in the end.”
With a tiny motion, Kira tested Iguru’s hold. Iguru let him slip from his grasp, let him stand on his own.
“He created androids. Before he ran away to this planet he ran a company. He had to leave because his research was too extreme.”
Kira stumbled away from Iguru and took in the rotting remains of the past. There were bits and pieces of the lab, of past trials and errors.
“He used to experiment with them,” Kira fiddled with an arm part, dropped it, “take them apart and change them on a whim.”
He walked further along and stood near a tilting old table, finger trailing the edge. His voice was soft and hidden, “I could hear them cry.”
“Did he make you cry?” Iguru asked quietly.
“My father grew unsatisfied with his work. He wanted to make something better than an android, better than a human.”
Iguru felt sick rush up his throat as he caught sight of that gleaming eye.
“So he turned to you.”
Kira sucked in a trembling breath.
“I didn’t kill my father,” he said weakly.
“No.”
“My father had succeeded and he didn’t even realize it. A robot could feel.”
“The butler.”
“Yes. He saved me. He saved all of us.”
Kira gestured to encompass the planet with all its robotic inhabitants.
“I built places for them to live. I wanted them to be free. I want them to be happy.”
Iguru’s chest hurt in ways it hadn’t in a long time. This time he doesn’t ignore the impulse and simply took Kira in his arms. Kira didn’t resist.
“But they don’t know how to go to sleep,” Kira said against his jacket, “they don’t know how to recharge. My father was cruel, he never taught them how to rest.”
“So you enforced bedtime.”
Kira nodded, the gesture unbalanced.
“I think they’re happy,” Kira said, “I just wish I could have stopped him sooner.”
It was an unselfish sentiment, so different from Iguru’s need to reclaim his pride.
“Me too,” Iguru said, and meant it, “but that’s not going to fix you.”
“Maybe I don’t care about me.”
“You should. Others do.”
Kira buried his head back in Iguru’s jacket and said nothing; the slim shaking of his shoulders said enough. Kira slipped to his knees and Iguru followed him to the ground. Around them, the portal fizzled and crackled with abated energy and the house, its old structure revealed, surrounded them with bits of crumbling rock and abandoned experiments. Iguru felt a bit suffocated and knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do.
“Come with me.”
Kira looked up, tears trickling out of one eye. He was shivering, teeth chattering; his movements were jerky with the onset of panic. Very gently, he took the other man’s hands in his.
“Leave Safety,” he said, “and come to the stars with me.”
“And do what?”
Iguru brushed Kira’s fringe back, exposing both eyes. He felt nothing for the red eye, nothing beyond acknowledging that it was part of this man, this man of vanilla, gentle touches, old books and relic ships. There were no demons hidden in that fake eye, no demons beyond those of the past, and it was time to leave that behind.
“See the stars,” he said, “I know they call to you, too. You don’t need a collection of ships, you just need one that will take you to the places you want to go. I have one of those.”
Kira’s eyes drifted to The Naked Rose, but he didn’t say anything. Iguru turned his face back, so that they looked into each other’s eyes.
“I want you on that ship,” he said, and his throat closed before he could say anything else.
Memories of old came trickling in, and it was difficult to fight the uncertainty and fear they brought. But he couldn’t lose the present to the past…Kira showed him the danger of that.
“You belong on that ship,” he finished.
“I…I can’t leave them. I can’t just let go. A thing like me belongs here.”
Iguru brought Kira’s hands to his chest, “When places call you from slumbering sleep, a fiery awakening of passion built deep, you pack the bag and do not weep.”
He freed one hand and wiped away the tears on Kira’s cheek.
“For adventure finds only those who leap.”
They both twitched at the unexpected voice and turned as one to regard the newcomer. The butler stood at the edge of the shadows, face placid. In his hand he held a simple travel bag, a carpet one that looked like it came from an old steam ship. He walked closer, steps measured and calm, and deposited the bag next to Kira.
Kira edged away from the bag and Iguru embraced him before he could get too far away.
“Leap with me,” he said, lips pressed against Kira’s ear.
Kira continued to shiver, but he brought his arms around to hug Iguru as well.
“I don’t know how,” he said, voice muffled against Iguru’s coat.
“I’ll show you.”
He stood up, bringing Kira with him. Kira found his balance on shaky legs and Iguru guided them to his ship. They were ungainly and awkward in their combined, shaky efforts, but at least they were together, at least Kira was with him. They made it to the ship, and Iguru let go as the door opened and welcomed them into the yawning darkness.
He stepped back. It was up to Kira to decide.
Kira stared into the darkness and made a whisper of movement towards The Naked Rose. The ship detected even the slightest motion and began to light up the interior of the ship. Panels blazed to life, navigation equipment began to feed data, consoles beeped and buzzed with start-up efforts. Kira still waited on the threshold and reached out to the ship with an arm, as if waiting for someone to pull him inside. Iguru didn’t move.
Kira dropped his arm and turned back to the butler and the remains of Ananke, like a child searching for a parent’s support. The butler walked forward.
“Some things shouldn’t be grounded,” the butler said.
He held out Kira’s bag.
“It’s terribly selfish.”
“You have g
iven us much, young master. You have given us freedom, building for us an entire city; you have given us your compassion and your time. But you are not a relic. Do not tie yourself to Safety.”
“You’ll be all right?” Kira asked.
“I belong here. I will take care of the others. We are all relics and this is our safe harbor, but you have always longed for more. Leave Safety and find adventure.”
Kira fell forwards and engulfed the butler in an embrace. Iguru couldn’t hear what they were saying. When they pulled away from each other the butler was smiling, faint and crooked, as if he was new to the expression. Iguru had to look away, it was all a bit too much, but he looked to the stars and let a smile grow as well, faint and crooked.
Kira grasped Iguru’s hand and they stared at each other for a few seconds; this time Iguru didn’t look away at all and his smile remained in place. Kira smiled back and reached out for The Naked Rose, one foot inside the ship. With a tug, he led Iguru inside and the hatch closed behind them, shutting out the mansion, shutting out the portal.
Kira gripped the handles of the co-pilot chair, his face an amusing shade of white. Iguru had known that Kira had never left Safety, but it occurred to him now that this would be Kira’s very first time flying, his first big leap. By the time Iguru strapped himself in, Kira had already gone through most of the start-up procedures, answering Rose’s questions easily and fluidly. His face was full of open curiosity and thrill; his fingers hovered over every switch while his eyes quickly scanned numbers and maps.
“Destination?” Iguru asked.
“Somewhere with a name,” Kira grinned.
As one, they hit the main engine start.
They jettisoned away from the planet,
Iguru breathed out.
Everything became darkness and silence.
The roof was gone. Stars twinkled above them, unobscured by pollution or light, and they seemed so close, closer than even when Iguru was out among them. Wind whipped through the remains, and like an old temple, the cracked walls groaned and swayed with the weather. The ground was cold and unforgiving beneath Iguru’s knees, but he didn’t bother to stand up.
Corn-silk hair spilled across Iguru’s thighs and Kira’s long limbs rested heavily against Iguru’s lap and the cement pad of the balcony. Kira’s bright blue eye stared up at the heavens and Iguru could see all the light-years in the glassy sheen of his pupil. He swallowed heavily.
Gradually, lights began to flicker on, emergency pod lights that must have been set in the foundation when the mansion was first built. There was little left of it now. The hangar was mere dirt, with The Naked Rose resting securely in the middle of the chaos, a little burnt but not broken. Ananke was practically destroyed; what was left of her and the portal was misshapen and lit with fiery wires.
One of the nearby consoles popped and crackled, letting out a tiny bout of smoke. Iguru scooped up Kira’s limp body and staggered away from the console. He limped to the only place he knew he wanted to go: his ship.
The dirt yielded under his footsteps, fresh and slightly moldy. Around them, strewn bits of the mansion rested like leftovers from a battle that never took place. Iguru dragged a hand through Kira’s hair and finally, finally, Kira let out a breath, long and slow.
“This planet has no name. My father didn’t give it one.”
Cradled in Iguru’s arms, he seemed protected from all of this, from what was left.
“He was an inventor. A scientist. A mad scientist, in the end.”
With a tiny motion, Kira tested Iguru’s hold. Iguru let him slip from his grasp, let him stand on his own.
“He created androids. Before he ran away to this planet he ran a company. He had to leave because his research was too extreme.”
Kira stumbled away from Iguru and took in the rotting remains of the past. There were bits and pieces of the lab, of past trials and errors.
“He used to experiment with them,” Kira fiddled with an arm part, dropped it, “take them apart and change them on a whim.”
He walked further along and stood near a tilting old table, finger trailing the edge. His voice was soft and hidden, “I could hear them cry.”
“Did he make you cry?” Iguru asked quietly.
“My father grew unsatisfied with his work. He wanted to make something better than an android, better than a human.”
Iguru felt sick rush up his throat as he caught sight of that gleaming eye.
“So he turned to you.”
Kira sucked in a trembling breath.
“I didn’t kill my father,” he said weakly.
“No.”
“My father had succeeded and he didn’t even realize it. A robot could feel.”
“The butler.”
“Yes. He saved me. He saved all of us.”
Kira gestured to encompass the planet with all its robotic inhabitants.
“I built places for them to live. I wanted them to be free. I want them to be happy.”
Iguru’s chest hurt in ways it hadn’t in a long time. This time he doesn’t ignore the impulse and simply took Kira in his arms. Kira didn’t resist.
“But they don’t know how to go to sleep,” Kira said against his jacket, “they don’t know how to recharge. My father was cruel, he never taught them how to rest.”
“So you enforced bedtime.”
Kira nodded, the gesture unbalanced.
“I think they’re happy,” Kira said, “I just wish I could have stopped him sooner.”
It was an unselfish sentiment, so different from Iguru’s need to reclaim his pride.
“Me too,” Iguru said, and meant it, “but that’s not going to fix you.”
“Maybe I don’t care about me.”
“You should. Others do.”
Kira buried his head back in Iguru’s jacket and said nothing; the slim shaking of his shoulders said enough. Kira slipped to his knees and Iguru followed him to the ground. Around them, the portal fizzled and crackled with abated energy and the house, its old structure revealed, surrounded them with bits of crumbling rock and abandoned experiments. Iguru felt a bit suffocated and knew what he had to do. What he wanted to do.
“Come with me.”
Kira looked up, tears trickling out of one eye. He was shivering, teeth chattering; his movements were jerky with the onset of panic. Very gently, he took the other man’s hands in his.
“Leave Safety,” he said, “and come to the stars with me.”
“And do what?”
Iguru brushed Kira’s fringe back, exposing both eyes. He felt nothing for the red eye, nothing beyond acknowledging that it was part of this man, this man of vanilla, gentle touches, old books and relic ships. There were no demons hidden in that fake eye, no demons beyond those of the past, and it was time to leave that behind.
“See the stars,” he said, “I know they call to you, too. You don’t need a collection of ships, you just need one that will take you to the places you want to go. I have one of those.”
Kira’s eyes drifted to The Naked Rose, but he didn’t say anything. Iguru turned his face back, so that they looked into each other’s eyes.
“I want you on that ship,” he said, and his throat closed before he could say anything else.
Memories of old came trickling in, and it was difficult to fight the uncertainty and fear they brought. But he couldn’t lose the present to the past…Kira showed him the danger of that.
“You belong on that ship,” he finished.
“I…I can’t leave them. I can’t just let go. A thing like me belongs here.”
Iguru brought Kira’s hands to his chest, “When places call you from slumbering sleep, a fiery awakening of passion built deep, you pack the bag and do not weep.”
He freed one hand and wiped away the tears on Kira’s cheek.
“For adventure finds only those who leap.”
They both twitched at the unexpected voice and turned as one to regard the newcomer. The butler stood at the edge of the shadows, face placid. In his hand he held a simple travel bag, a carpet one that looked like it came from an old steam ship. He walked closer, steps measured and calm, and deposited the bag next to Kira.
Kira edged away from the bag and Iguru embraced him before he could get too far away.
“Leap with me,” he said, lips pressed against Kira’s ear.
Kira continued to shiver, but he brought his arms around to hug Iguru as well.
“I don’t know how,” he said, voice muffled against Iguru’s coat.
“I’ll show you.”
He stood up, bringing Kira with him. Kira found his balance on shaky legs and Iguru guided them to his ship. They were ungainly and awkward in their combined, shaky efforts, but at least they were together, at least Kira was with him. They made it to the ship, and Iguru let go as the door opened and welcomed them into the yawning darkness.
He stepped back. It was up to Kira to decide.
Kira stared into the darkness and made a whisper of movement towards The Naked Rose. The ship detected even the slightest motion and began to light up the interior of the ship. Panels blazed to life, navigation equipment began to feed data, consoles beeped and buzzed with start-up efforts. Kira still waited on the threshold and reached out to the ship with an arm, as if waiting for someone to pull him inside. Iguru didn’t move.
Kira dropped his arm and turned back to the butler and the remains of Ananke, like a child searching for a parent’s support. The butler walked forward.
“Some things shouldn’t be grounded,” the butler said.
He held out Kira’s bag.
“It’s terribly selfish.”
“You have g
“You’ll be all right?” Kira asked.
“I belong here. I will take care of the others. We are all relics and this is our safe harbor, but you have always longed for more. Leave Safety and find adventure.”
Kira fell forwards and engulfed the butler in an embrace. Iguru couldn’t hear what they were saying. When they pulled away from each other the butler was smiling, faint and crooked, as if he was new to the expression. Iguru had to look away, it was all a bit too much, but he looked to the stars and let a smile grow as well, faint and crooked.
Kira grasped Iguru’s hand and they stared at each other for a few seconds; this time Iguru didn’t look away at all and his smile remained in place. Kira smiled back and reached out for The Naked Rose, one foot inside the ship. With a tug, he led Iguru inside and the hatch closed behind them, shutting out the mansion, shutting out the portal.
Kira gripped the handles of the co-pilot chair, his face an amusing shade of white. Iguru had known that Kira had never left Safety, but it occurred to him now that this would be Kira’s very first time flying, his first big leap. By the time Iguru strapped himself in, Kira had already gone through most of the start-up procedures, answering Rose’s questions easily and fluidly. His face was full of open curiosity and thrill; his fingers hovered over every switch while his eyes quickly scanned numbers and maps.
“Destination?” Iguru asked.
“Somewhere with a name,” Kira grinned.
As one, they hit the main engine start.
They jettisoned away from the planet,