Edge Cases - 145 - Book 3: Chapter 10: Goodnight

145 – Book 3: Chapter 10: Goodnight

Clyde returned in short order with a small fistful of reality shards clutched awkwardly in his fingers. He was holding them gingerly, almost, like he was afraid they were going to explode. Belle stared at him.

“Why are you holding them like that?” she asked.

“You said they’re pocket universes,” Clyde said. “I didn’t think it was safe to toss them around.”

“I said almost!” The scientist rolled her eyes and grabbed the shards from a grinning Clyde, turning to deposit them in Misa’s arms. “Here. You were going to try to do something with this, right?”

“The problem is that I don’t know what,” Misa said, cradling the bundle of shards awkwardly. Her gaze flicked up toward a system screen and she scanned it briefly, looking for an option to repair, but there was nothing there; just the same information about anchor integrity.

“You could try pushing it into the window,” Sev suggested. Misa blinked at him.

“The system has literally never worked that way,” she said, but she grabbed a shard and pushed it into the screen anyway—

—And stopped, staring, when the shard abruptly disappeared from her fingers, and the anchor integrity ticked up.

“You were saying?” Sev grinned at her, one eyebrow slightly raised. Misa scowled at him.

“I’m almost offended that it’s so fucking simple,” she muttered, staring at the window. “This whole time…”

“We didn’t have that many shards to mess with, and no reason to guess that would work,” Vex said, trying to be comforting. “And nothing bad happened! Everyone’s okay.”

“Right,” Misa said, her tone slightly distracted. She turned her gaze to Sev, who smiled back at her. “Everyone’s okay,” she repeated, almost to herself.

She sighed.

“Well, that’s one problem solved, right?” Clyde said. He stood with his elbows resting on the bar counter and his hands propping up his chin. “Whatcha got next?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Misa said. “It’s a bit late, we should probably…”

Her voice trailed off. She stared at the window. She’d glanced at it to check on the time, to see if there was any left in the day for her to do the training she wanted to do; the sky was dark, though, and so she had been about to suggest they retire for the night.

And then she noticed something none of them had noticed before. It was difficult to spot, really. The air here was strange, and the sky was composed of layer upon layer of translucent reflections, each displaying a different part of the world.

It was no wonder she hadn’t noticed the glimmering light behind them before.

The stars.

“The stars still exist here,” she breathed.

“What?” Clyde looked at her strangely. Belle and Elliot did the same, but Vex, Sev, and Derivan all turned towards the window as one, eyes growing wide.

“Oh,” Sev breathed.

“Whoa,” Vex said. He pressed his snout against the glass, trying to peer up through the panes.

Derivan remained silent, and stayed where he was. He stared out the window, though, as though trying to commit the sight to memory.

“You guys wanna tell us what’s going on, here?” Elliot asked, and Belle elbowed him with a hiss.

“They’re obviously having a moment,” she said. “Give them a bit.”

There was a small pause, there, as the four stared out of the window. There was a magic to the sight, the same way there was a magic to the moment every time Derivan cast [Starry Night]; a small moment of appreciation for something that felt larger than all of them.

Derivan responded first, finally turning to Clyde, his gaze apologetic. “Our branch of reality no longer has the stars,” he said. “We did not even know they were missing until… very recently. The real thing is quite the sight to see.”

Clyde just stared at the four of them. He leaned back against the bar, thinking for a moment, and then nodded to himself; he glanced at Belle. “We could take them to the observatory,” he said.

Belle sighed, but she was smiling. “Somehow, I knew you were going to say that,” she said. “There’s an observatory near the edge of town if you’d like to visit. It’s enchanted to cut through all of the sky-weirdness — we call them Fractals — so you’ll get a better view of the night sky, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“It’s technically only open to scientists,” Clyde said. “But Belle’s awesome and can get you in.”

Belle grinned. “Why, thank you,” she said, dipping into a small curtsy.

“We’d like that, I think,” Sev said quietly. He glanced at the others, but found no disagreement. Misa nodded, staring out the window with a wistful look in her eyes; Vex stood near the base of the window, his snout nearly pressed up against the glass; Derivan tilted his head in agreement.

“This way, then,” Belle said. She gave Clyde and Elliot both a wave. “You two hold down the fort here, okay?”

“You know we will,” Clyde said, waving her away. “Go on, have fun.”

“You’re not coming?” Vex tore his gaze away from the window to look at the innkeeper. Clyde laughed at the look on Vex’s face, though his reply was apologetic.

“No,” he said. “I’m afraid even with Belle the observatory only allows a few visitors at a time. Plus, I shouldn’t actually keep leaving my post like this.”

“And I’m staying to keep him company,” Elliot said cheerfully. “We’ll be fine here, don’t worry. Go look at the stars! I’m sure they’re waiting.”

“Oh,” Vex said. That made sense to him. He trotted out of the inn along with the others, glancing back at the pure-black, box-like building, so very different from the warm inside.

Then he paused and glanced at the others. “Wait, the stars are doing what now?”

“I’m sure it’s just a turn of phrase,” Sev said again. Belle seemed deeply amused, and was refusing to clarify; Vex, of course, was trying to puzzle out exactly what Elliot had meant by ‘they’re waiting’.

“But it might not be,” Vex argued. “Just because we think we know what the stars are like doesn’t mean that we actually know—”

“We’re here,” Belle interrupted, casting her still-amused gaze onto Vex. “You can find out for yourselves.”

The party stopped and stared at the building in question. It looked… it looked identical to every other building, actually.

“I’m not sure what I expected,” Sev muttered. He glanced at the darkened window at the front; he could almost see what looked like star charts, laid out on a shelf.

“I expected something taller,” Misa said critically. She stared at the distinctly box-shaped building. “It’s just another cube.”

Belle laughed. “We have magic,” she said. She removed a small rectangle from her dress and pressed it against an almost invisible seam in the wall; there was a click, and a flash of mana that signalled the door unlocking. “The buildings just need to be functional. Everything else happens on the inside.”

She threw open the door and stepped in. For all that they’d already known that the inside would be different, none of them were quite prepared.

It was like stepping into a field of stars.

The floor vanished beneath their feet almost as soon as they stepped into the room, giving them a distinct sense of vertigo; Vex wobbled slightly until Misa, closest to him, grabbed him by the arm and steadied him. Sev’s expression was a complicated mixture of both wonder and nausea, and Derivan simply looked around, taking everything in.

“Are you alright?” Belle asked, amused. She was looking at Sev, who waved her off.

“I don’t like heights,” he said. “I’ll be fine. Probably.”

“You can’t be high up if there’s no down to speak of,” Vex said, trying to reassure Sev.

It did not work. He looked even more green, if anything.

Still, the ‘room’ they were in was beautiful. There was no one else present — everyone else had gone home for the day, Belle explained — but this was a magic that put them in the middle of the stars. The enchantment on the walls let them see a depth of color that wouldn’t normally have been apparent in space. All the errant gases were awash in vibrant reds and greens. Every star shone with startling clarity, for all that they were exceedingly far away — and it was astonishing how well the room conveyed a sense of distance.

In short, it was easy to feel exceedingly small, standing in this room. Belle smiled slightly at the stunned looks on all their faces. “You never get used to it,” she said softly. “I come here every so often, even though it’s not really my area of expertise. It’s a nice way to get perspective.”

“Why keep it closed to the public at all?” Vex asked softly. “I feel like everyone should get to see… this.”

“We actually tried to make it open, once,” Belle said with a small laugh. “The problem is that the place looks big, but it’s only about two or three times the size of the actual building. We can’t fit everyone in that wants to visit, and… a lot of people want to visit.”

For a moment, Belle looked as though she wanted to say something else — but she stopped before she did, and shook her head as though admonishing herself.

“I’m surprised all of this is still… here,” Sev said quietly. He took a few steps forward, his feet slightly more sure now, although he still stumbled slightly as he misjudged the distance to the ‘ground’. “If the universe is getting erased…”

“Truth be told, it’s surprising to us, too,” Belle said. She sighed, conjuring a chair of shadow from the ground and leaning back; it creaked along with her movement, the back of the chair folding back to let her recline. A wave of her hand and she conjured a matching set of four seats for the rest of the party, and they all settled in, staring silently up at the sky.

Belle broke the silence after a minute. “We’re not sure exactly why. Our models all suggest that planets with life on them should be the last ones to be erased; the stars should have disappeared long ago, except for the ones still supporting life.”

Vex stared up at the sky, and was struck by a horrible thought. “What if that’s why?” he asked. “What if all the stars up there support a different planet…”

“No,” Belle said, culling the train of thought before it could go too far; Vex relaxed slightly at her assertion, though he still looked up with concern. She smiled wryly. “Trust me, it was one of the first things we thought of. We checked. Obreve is the only planet with any life on it.”

“Obreve,” Sev said, snapping his fingers. “Right! That was the name. Shit, I thought it got erased or something. I was going to ask you guys about it, but I forgot.”

Misa rotated her chair to face Sev. “You… forgot the name of the planet?” she asked.

“You know I have problems with my memory,” Sev said, waving her away. She frowned at him. “I was going to bring it up!” he said defensively. “I just forgot.”

“You’re forgetting things an awful lot,” she said, crossing her arms.

“Because I have memory problems!” Sev gestured vaguely. “You know how my skills work. It’s not… it’s not great. But you can trust me, I promise.”

Misa sighed. “I know I can,” she said, her voice gentler. “And I do. It’s not trust that’s the problem. I’m just worried about you.”

“Oh,” Sev said, and then in a softer, smaller voice: “Sometimes I worry about me, too.”

He tried to smile, but there was a vulnerability there; a brittleness in his eyes that he didn’t usually let show.

Misa didn’t know what to say to that.

The conversation petered off, there, into a rough sort of silence. Belle spoke after several minutes, a note of wistful melancholy in her voice. “It’s something about being here,” she said. “Makes you feel smaller. A little bit more vulnerable. A little bit more open, too.”

“It’s beautiful, though.” Sev stared up at the sky, his eyes tracing the patterns of the stars. A few of them were moving, even, twirling and dancing around one another. He couldn’t imagine the phenomenal speed at which they must have been moving for it to be so clearly visible in real time.

“You can hear them, if you know how to listen,” Belle commented. She reached into the air, fiddling with something invisible. A second later, a rolling, wispy tune began to play from all around them, echoing in the room. The tune was sad, melancholic. A final ode to a dying universe. “They’ve been playing the same song ever since the universe ended…”

Belle fell silent as a ringing tone entered the melody; a sound not unlike a sword striking armor. It should have been harsh, but the note that was produced was pure.

A small, uplifting tone entered the music, and the tone of the song changed. Not a lot — just slightly. A shift from minor to major for a single chord, and yet…

Belle closed her eyes and smiled. “I was hoping I’d hear that,” she said. “We haven’t had that in a while. Change. Doesn’t matter if it’s magic in our reality, or the system in yours — when the universe dies, it stops being able to make new things. But there’s something different with you four, isn’t there?”

“We’re just normal people, as far as I know,” Vex said cautiously. Belle laughed.

“You’re as far from normal as it gets,” she said, the words playful. “But I’m not saying you were born special. I’m saying that maybe you chose to be. By making yourselves the axis upon which the world can turn…

“But I’m just an old lady making guesses.” Belle leaned back in her chair, staring up at the sky. “Watch the stars with me, will you? We’ve got at least an hour here.”

And they did.