Drummer Boy - Back Into Hell Ch. 06

"It was an impossible choice," Granny said, "between the admission of cowardice, and the shame of bestial lust."

"But you didn't have to punk out," Jason said. "Don't get me wrong, I get it. I've become kind of an expert on unwanted sex lately. But it sounds to me like you were kinda interested..."

"It is not our way!" Granny said, her eyes suddenly sparking to life.

"You sure about that, G?" Jason said. "Between this and the Bright Lady's Brow thing, plus all the other examples I've personally been involved in, it sounds like having a healthy sex drive is pretty normal for you gals."

"That does not make it right," Granny said. "Certainly such actions are unbecoming of a Grand Wing Mother."

"C'mon, don't pretend you're not down for some action," Jason said. "I've seen the way you look at Thumper. Lord knows I got an earful of you two going at it." He smirked. "You're a dirty little Granny Wingmother."

"Have a care with your tone, human," Granny said, yellow sparks crackling warningly around her eyes.

"Nope," Jason said. "Doctor Human thinks we're close to a breakthrough. 'Cause either you're the most repressed, hypocritical prude in the world, or you've found something that scares even your high-and-mighty ass."

Granny glared at him, and Jason got worried that he'd pushed her a bit too hard. Then her eyes powered down.

"I am not a prude," she said. Then she got that sad look on her face again, and turned to look out the window.

"I wonder," Granny said, "what will happen should we win the war."

Jason shrugged. "Step One, everyone shouts 'Hooray!'" he said. "Step Two, live happily ever after."

"That may do for those in the podal cities," Granny said. "Their lives will change very little. But what of the warriors? What of those whose lives revolve around the dangers, the challenges and triumphs of conflict? And what of those who lead them?"

She turned to look at him, worry lines creasing her forehead, eyes wide with helplessness.

"What, Jason," she said, "of me?"

"There it is," Jason said. "I knew we'd get there. Part of you doesn't want the war to end, huh?"

"I have spent my entire life, an exceptionally long life even by our standards, fighting a seemingly unwinnable war," Granny said. "Absent that, what is to be my purpose? I do not know if I can live as they do."

"Why not?" Jason said. "Seems a hell of a lot safer. Not to mention more satisfying."

"Is it?" Granny said. "The certainty of death has been central to my existence. Every day, every decision, has been informed by that reality. Am I to simply reject all of that, and become a farmer?"

"Well, maybe not a farmer," Jason said. "You just find some other way to live. Look, you said Leanne used to be the baddest of the bad-asses, and she's doing great on Earth!"

"Oh, aye," Granny said, mockingly. "An obese seamstress, subsisting on what paltry soul essence she is able to coax from her repulsive human pet!"

* * *

"Ouch," Leanne said.

"That's what I said!" Jason said. "But I mean, y'know, her words, not mine."

* * *

"Ouch," Jason said. "But hey, maybe you're looking at it all wrong. "Think of it like a new challenge. A new way to prove you're the top dog."

"Among the beast-keepers, and those who toil in the barren soil?" Granny said. She snorted. "Hardly seems like a challenge at all."

"Then show 'em how it's done!" Jason said. "And it doesn't have to be that. Find your own niche. Something that gives your life meaning."

"Dying in the service of my tribe," Granny said, "that has always given my life meaning."

Jason shrugged. "Dying for something's easy," Jason said. "One and done. Living for something, though, keeping on and making it work, even when things get rough ... there's a real challenge for you."

"And I suppose you call the easy life of Pinnacle's Peak," Granny said, sweeping her arm out at the courtyards, "with its artists and farmers and teachers, and the pleasures of tender flesh, and open, unashamed expressions of affection, that is what you would call 'living for something'?"

"Duh, yeah!" Jason said. "Hell, that sounds entirely fucking sweet. And there's not a goddamn thing wrong with that."

"Save that a life lived thus leaves one ill-prepared for a time when true calamity calls," Granny said.

Jason flashed back to the nightmare of being present at Sweet Reprisal, and shuddered.

"Maybe," he said. "But here's what I know. All the shit that I've been through in the past couple of days? I wouldn't have made it if it wasn't for Pearl. It's only because I love her that I came here. Without that, I wouldn't have fought so hard to keep going, stay the course and ... all that other sports analogy bullshit. Without that, there's nothing you or anyone else could do to make me keep putting up with this shithole of a world."

"But the fate of Tarterus-"

"I couldn't give a half-hearted reach-around, much less an entire fuck, about the fate of Tarterus!" Jason said. "The only reason I'm here, the only reason that I keep getting up every time this place tries to put me down, is because I'm gonna do everything I possibly can to make sure Pearl comes back. She may have been born here, but I'm not gonna let your shitty planet eat her!"

As he spoke, Granny studied Jason. He could feel her jet black eyes evaluating him, weighing him on the scales of her own inscrutable standards.

When he finished his rant, Jason noticed that a hint of a smile had returned to Granny's face. "It would seem," she said, "that your resolve has returned."

"Yeah? I guess so," Jason said, returning the smile. "What about you? You gonna see this through, or do I start lookin' for another ride the castle?"

"I would not be deserving of my title, were I to allow a mere beast's will to overmatch mine own," Granny said. "We shall continue forward. But first, we must take a step back."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jason said.

In response, Granny pushed him aside with her wing. An instant later, a new Wing swooped into the room. She landed, turned around, and sank to one knee. In her hands she held a covered wooden tray.

"My Lady," the Wing said, her eyes locked on Granny. "I bring you morning sustenance."

"Indeed," Granny said, brusquely, with an icy note in her voice. "Rise, Karnella, and to your duty."

Karnella stood up. Jason couldn't help but notice that she was, like most of the Wings, a statuesque beauty. As tall as Granny, although leaner, and with abs for days. The redderblue lines marking her body were much fainter than Granny's, although still darker than Jason's own. Even so, she had massive boobs that were barely contained by her leather halter. In fact, judging by the way the tops of her breasts bulged outward, jiggling enticingly with every motion, it looked like she had intentionally chosen one that was the wrong size for her impressive bosom.

Karnella walked purposefully to one of the stone slabs by the fire pit. There was a crackle of electricity as flames shot from her eyes, igniting the kindling.

Karnella turned around again to face Granny and removed the lid from the tray. "Will this be to your liking, my Lady?" she said.

The tray, it turned out, contained an assortment of fruits and vegetables. Long, green things that were almost carrot-like, and red, pear-shaped gourds. There were also two big bowls containing a brown pasty something that could have passed for hummus.

"Aye, it is sufficient," Granny said.

"Very well, my Lady," Karnella said. "And should you require anything else of me, anything at all, I am ... eager to serve you. In whatever manner you desire."

Saying this, Karnella betrayed a knowing smirk. That was when Jason noticed that the skin around one eye had a slight bluish tinge to it. Someone had very recently popped her a good one, and Jason had an idea who.

"Perhaps another time," Granny said. "Begone, Breakfast Wench."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Karnella's face, but then she nodded, and bent over to set the tray down on a slab. In the process, her leather skirt hiked up over her ass, displaying a considerable amount of crimson flesh.

Karnella stood up again, and smoothed her skirt back into place, raising a saucy eyebrow in Granny's direction. Then she made the local hand sign at Granny, and zipped out the window again.

"You ladies have problems," Jason said, once they were alone again.

"Hunger shall not be one of them," Granny said. She walked over to the fire and sat down next to the tray. "Come. You may safely eat."

"Don't play dumb with me," Jason said, nonetheless taking her up on her invitation. "That was the little number who came onto you, huh?"

"Karnella sought to play the aggressor," Granny said. "I merely provided a reminder of her station."

"Yeah, that's not healthy. For either of you. This whole world needs therapy," Jason said. He picked up one of the gourds, eyeing it suspiciously. "How do I eat this?"

Granny bit right into her gourd, exposing the bright yellow flesh inside. Jason shrugged and took a bite of his. It tasted, rather anticlimactically, like beets. And not good beets, either, but the blandest beets he'd ever beeted.

"Well, at least it's not turbo-jerky," Jason said. Granny merely chewed in silent contemplation.

"Still, I thought I saw something between you two," Jason teased. Granny grunted. "Maybe a friend? Or 'Breakfast Wench with benefits'?"

"Hardly!" Granny said. "You saw her lines; she is quite young. I doubt that she has much experience in battle."

"I don't think that's the kinda tussle she's looking for, know what I mean?" Jason said. "I bet she could teach you a few things."

"You are insufferable," Granny said. "Now, eat. Today promises to be very busy."

"And very busty," Jason said, which earned him an intense, flame-filled stare from Granny.

* * *

"By the way," Jason said to Leanne, "the flavor problem on Tarterus is too real. The vegetables taste like wet paper and the meat tastes like burning."

"Eh, we only spice up the meat as a preservative," Leanne said. Then she got a serious look on her face. "By the way, about that jerky-" she began.

"Yeah, I know," Jason said. "I'm trying not to think about it. Just let me finish, okay?"

* * *

After breakfast they got ready. Another Wing, not Karnella thankfully, arrived, bearing a pair of flight skirts, as well as a little leather backpack. This last thing, Granny explained, was specifically for Jason.

"I know how you obsess over your trinkets," Granny said. "You may place your belongings in that."

"You're all heart, Granny," Jason said, stuffing his things inside, and finding there was more than enough room for it all. Putting it on was easy enough, he found, and it fit in the upper part of his back between his wings, in the same way the other Wings carried their weapons.

Similarly, the flight skirt proved easy to get on. It was basically a long wooden plank, with depressions for the arms, boobs and legs, and leather straps at the shoulders and waist to hold it on.

So getting into it was easy. Walking around with it on was pretty clunky, though.

"I feel like a damn paper doll," Jason complained.

"You shall thank me once we are aloft," Granny said.

"How long until that happens?" Jason said.

Granny merely nodded at the window. Jason looked.

Outside, twenty Wings hovered, all suited up and ready to go. Each wore leather armor, a flight skirt, and a spear strapped to her back. And despite last night's revelries, there wasn't a smile to be found among them. These gals didn't look "soft" at all.

"Hey, Granny?" Jason said. "Who're your friends?"

"I requested volunteers to escort us to the Great Hall," Granny said, a cool smile on her lips. "These sisters will serve."

"Um, are we gonna need a posse?" Jason said.

"Perhaps not," Granny said, "but fortune favors the prepared. Now, follow closely, stay in formation, and for the sake of our cause, do not embarrass me."

Jason shrugged. "No promises," he said.

Granny hopped out of the window. She hovered just outside for a few moments, gravely assessing her escort. Then with a wordless nod, she launched herself directly upward. The company of Wings was an instant behind her.

Jason sighed. "Alright, wings," he muttered, "time to do your stuff."

He waddled over the window ledge, tipped over, tumbled for a bit until his wings caught the air, and then having done so, flew upward to join the rest.

After they'd reached a predetermined altitude, the group leveled off. They aimed for the darkest patch of redderblue on the horizon, and started flying toward it. They formed themselves into a V formation, just a like a flock of geese, with Granny in front. Jason was the odd one out, posted as he was at the tail end of one leg of the V.

From his vantage slightly behind the group, Jason was impressed by the way that they were able to fly together as a unit. Everything about the way they moved, from their positions relative to each other and their reactions to air currents, down to the individual inflections of their wings, was done with almost choreographed precision. It reminded him of the Blue Angels exhibitions, only minus the fighter jets.

In contrast, his own attempts to keep even with the group were pretty janky. He did his best, but every so often something would happen to trip him up. He'd be flying too fast and almost bump into one of the others, or flying too slow and have to pour it on to catch up. A downdraft would catch him unawares, pushing him way off, and he'd have to flap like crazy to get back on track.

The flight skirt helped a lot, in that he didn't have to worry about his limbs dangling all over the place. But while he consoled himself with the fact that he'd only been at this flying business since literally yesterday, he was very conscious of being a weird little hanger-on, comically dogging at the edges of this group of seasoned pros.

After about an hour of this, he decided to hit up Granny for some advice. He tried sending to her, mentally shouting "Hey!" in her direction, but she didn't seem to hear him at all. After a while, though, he finally got a response.

"What is so blasted important!" Granny sent. There was annoyance in her sending, but, more significantly, there was a kind of static, like a bad cell connection.

"Why do you sound all fuzzy?" Jason sent. "The NSA listening in on Tarterus too?"

"I am mindlinked with my sisters," Granny sent, "so as to coordinate and streamline our flight."

"Is it always this noisy?" Jason sent.

"Nay," Granny sent. "I have partitioned my mind to communicate with you. The interference you sense is due to both distinct mental processes, operating simultaneously."

"I guess you got a lot on your mind, huh?" Jason sent.

"Humorless wordplay aside, the process is somewhat taxing," Granny sent, "so hasten to illuminate me with a reason I should continue."

"So, I see how well you gals are going," Jason sent, "and I'm thinking I could do this a whole lot better if you, y'know, looped me in."

Granny paused before responding. "I could," she sent, "I do not expect that you would enjoy it."

"Let me give it a shot," Jason sent. "I might surprise you."

Through the static of their connection, Jason could sense that Granny was thinking it over. "Very well," she sent. "Feel this."

Something big and wavy washed over him. Then his vision contracted, dwindling until his sense of sight disappeared altogether. The rest of his senses followed suit, diminishing one by one into nothing, until he became nothing but a bodiless mind, contained within a single senseless point.

Then, that single point of mind expanded, spreading outward, inflating like a balloon. It reclaimed the senses of his body, but it didn't stop there. His senses expanded further, to encompass the minds and bodies of the Wings around him, including all of the sensations they felt.

There was a kind of snapping into place, and just like that, he was one with the group. Jason no longer felt like "me", but was instead a new, bigger thing that felt more like "ME".

The forty-four eyes of "ME" saw the world as one great all-seeing eye, and the forty-four ears of "ME" heard every sound as a single ear. Twenty-two bodies felt the same winds as they flew, only at slightly different times, and forty-four wings instinctively made fractional adjustments in the service of "ME".

The scents of the air, the ceaseless working of their wing muscles to push harder and faster, all of that was part of "ME". No one mind held complete sway over any other. "ME" did not question its goals, did not have doubts, only the certainty of now. Wordless language flowed through "ME", as fluid as water, as fast as light.

In this way, time sped by in a dull, comfortable haze. "ME" knew that a part of it had once been something other, something lesser, but it didn't care too much about it. Individuality was more trouble than it was worth. "ME" was so much better than "I".

Then Jason remembered his name. He didn't want to, but there it was. "Jason". It felt like crumbs from a cookie, like the wrapping from a Christmas present, like that last line of dust you can't seem to sweep into the dustpan. "Jason". The unfortunate, cast-off leftovers from something good or well done.

He tried to forget it, but it kept popping up. Then he realized that he was thinking of "himself" as "him" and "me" and knew that his time as "ME" was coming to an end. He tried to hang on, but it was like trying to stay asleep in a good dream, even when you know you're waking up.

He felt his own personality slip away from the group. His mind deflated, returning to the now tight-seeming confines of his own body. He resisted, but felt some outside force nudging at him, squeezing his mind back into where it belonged.

And then he was back, fully inhabiting his own body, and his body alone. He could feel the clumsiness of his flying, and was saddened by how little of the world around him that he could sense. He'd never realized how limiting, and how lonely it was, being just one person. Now that he'd had a taste of what being "ME" was like, he wanted more.

"Hey, Granny!" Jason sent. "Come on, let me back in!"

"Nay, human," Granny's mental voice came back to him, now as full of static as before. "That is enough for now."

"But I was just getting into it!" Jason sent.

"Any longer and I would have had significant trouble extracting you again," she sent. "The human mind is simply not strong enough to withstand such a prolonged connection."

"Hey!" Jason sent. "My brain's plenty strong!"

"Come, now," Granny sent, "we both know that is not true. Pity, though. The sisters are quite intrigued by you. They've never mindlinked with an Earthborn human before, obviously."

"You outed me?!" Jason said. "Granny, was that a good idea?"

"To be fair, you outed you," Granny sent. "Of course, I knew that would happen once you joined the mindlink, but it was a risk worth taking."

"Why is that?" Jason sent.

"These sisters have perused your memories, and they now know what is at stake," Granny sent. "They have seen what you have seen, and felt what you have felt. They understand what brings us here, and what needs to be done. I have, with your assistance, recruited them to our cause."