Page 94 of Butterfly Effects

Sam and I exchanged a look. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like the idea of coming from another dimension to overthrow someone else’s government. We’d have to leave immediately afterward, which was the definition of making a mess and leaving it for someone else to deal with. But then again, they started it when they stole Sarah and Arthur. Having Artie back was wonderful in ways I hadn’t been able to take the time to really grapple with yet, but it had been so long since we’d lost him, and Arthur had become his own person. Losing him stung.

Whatever we did to these people, they deserved it.

I turned to the Eldest Living. “What’s your plan?” I asked.

Slowly, she smiled.

Kairos planning, which was largely based on lucky breaks and best-case scenarios, was remarkably similar to family planning, if based on even more tenuous chains of coincidence, which made sense: their connection to the timing was direct and reliable, unlike our own, which became more diluted and unpredictable with every passing generation.

Less than an hour after our arrival, we were walking along the monorail structure in the company of a massive group of Kairos guards, easily forty of them, all packed in close around the enormous velvet worm that Mark was seated atop, riding it dutifully toward the city. Artie rode behind him, more out of necessity than desire: Arthur had never been interested in fieldwork, and so while he’d maintained basic physical fitness, he hadn’t kept their shared body in the sort of shape that would allow Artie to make this walk without straining something he was probably going to need later.

As we approached the series of ramps that would take us down into the city, Johrlac guards appeared, flanking the exits. Each of the travelers would approach, the guards’ eyes would flash white, and then the travelers would begin their descent. As the only one of us the guards would be able to really “see,” Mark was our representative. This was also our test of how well he could navigate in Johrlac society.

It was our turn. Mark urged the worm forward, and when he was in position, he met eyes with the guard. The man’s eyes flashed white. Mark’s did the same, brighter and harder to look directly into. The man blinked, repeatedly, and dropped his spear before staggering back against the rail, putting a hand against his forehead. Then he waved us on, and we began our descent, about half of us looking back in anticipation of the pursuit that had to be coming.

It didn’t come.

“Dude, what the hell?” asked Sam. “You were supposed to be all ‘These are not the droids you’re looking for,’ not ‘Let me melt your brain for you.’ And why did they just let us go?”

“I didn’t mean to,” said Mark sourly. “He asked what my business in the city was. You were right—he didn’t see any of you people. So I told him I was taking my weird giant worm for a walk, and then he wanted to know my name. Only he didn’t like my name, and he tried to push deeper into my mind. So I shoved him out. I guess I wasn’t supposed to be able to do that, since he didn’t even try to stop me. I didn’t mean to hit him so hard.”

“As long as they don’t chase after us, we’re fine,” I said. “I think we’ll be fine if they do chase after us, but it’ll be the sort of fine that comes with a lot more bloodshed, and I’d rather skip it if we can.”

Mark eyed me skeptically.

“What?”

“Just not sure I believe one of you assholes trying to avoid the bloodshed.” We were winding down the ramp, the velvet worm’s footing sure and stable, thanks to its many, many feet. There were more guards at the bottom. Mark locked eyes with them and they stepped aside, gesturing us forward.

I eyed him. He shrugged.

“Queens lead their society, and kings are supposed to be impossible,” he said. “So they hit my mind, feel enough power to make me a queen, pick up on the fact that I’m a dude, and don’t know how to deal with the contradiction, so they just sort of back down. I get the feeling they don’t spend a lot of time thinking for themselves. It’s not an encouraged skill around here.”

“You think pretty highly of your own species,” said Sam.

“Eh. If you get to visit the land of the shapeshifting monkey people and they’re all total losers, are you really going to be their biggest fan? Or are you going to be all ‘Gosh I’m glad I don’t live here’?” Mark shrugged again. “These people are my species, but they’re not my friends, or my family. We don’t have anything in common but some shitty ancestral memories—which I don’t even have anymore, by the way. Sarah ripped them out of me like a really nasty weed.”

I winced at the imagery. I knew what it was like to have my memories removed, and I had resented it for a long time. Mark didn’t sound resentful. He sounded bitter, but almost grateful at the same time, like she had done him an immense favor that he didn’t really have the words to properly describe.

The streets were as busy as they’d been on our previous visit. Other than the char damage to the administrative building, most of which had already been repaired, there was nothing to show that we’d been here at all. People walked in every direction, some accompanied by large insects, some pushing strollers. There were more children than there’d been before, and several of them stopped to point at our Kairos guards, eyes flashing.

“Uh, guys?” I said.

An adult moved toward one of the groups of pointing children, following their fingers to look directly at us.

“Guys,” I repeated, with more urgency.

“What?” asked Mark.

I pointed at the children who were pointing at us, beginning to amass a small crowd of adults who stared and muttered, their eyes flashing on and off like fireflies.

One of the Kairos guards swore. “Their children can see us better than they can, because they haven’t outgrown believing the evidence of their eyes,” he said. “If the children can show the adults where we are, we can be found.”

“Meaning…?”

“Run.”

The guards took off with the ease and speed of a trained unit, running away from the velvet worm and heading down the street toward the hulking, lightly charred shape of the central building. Sam leapt onto the back of the velvet worm, sweeping Mark and Artie—our least physically fit members—under his arms, and ran after the guards. I brought up the rear, hands lighting up. If these people decided to chase us, they were going to find out the hard way that no one wants to be the main character at a barbecue.