The Justiceers - Part One: Chapter Five
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part One: Darkest Nights
1.5
Beams of platinum light were rising into the void of Oliath’s blackest sky, their splendorous heights enriched by uncountable masses of swirling reflective particles, extending well beyond reach of its highest mirrors.
Arthur was looking out over it all.
He and Miriam had found themselves at the very epicenter of an unfolding planetary catastrophe, eventually expanding beyond the city itself, Cryptoid emergences now starting to pock-mark the entire planet.
These towering shafts of light were left in the aftermath. Their source, some unknown power within the planet, freed to soar by this destruction.
A most significant change was becoming Grammaton. Something long held inside, a secret, was beginning to show itself. The Periphery had made a crueler mistress than they’d known by settling here.
Arthur was impressed by the force of it all, discovering kinship with this planet so determined to shine, not allowing herself to be defined by these people who’d built upon her without consent. So presumptuous it was, for human’s to take a their own, unknowing the breadth of consciousness residing within.
He’d been smoking some local plant-medicines, and Arthur needed it. After that mess in the plaza, there’s been no time for gut to speak. Miriam demanded all the best add-ons for their Monstrodomus, including a surprisingly effective herbal package. It was some ‘heavy-shit’ they were cooking-up here in Oliath, as she’d put it so eloquently.
It felt like heaven after The Beast’s maddest dash through the city, so much adrenaline fueling it all, that concerted focus required from Arthur to steer them safely free of carnage.
The M9 now rested on the landing pad atop Oliath General Authority’s high-rise, a most modern and stable construction, surrounded by buildings of lesser-make damaged in the mayhem.
This building seemed under some kind of divine protection, so at the mid-point between its nearest Cryptoid emergences. Each beam of light now blasting skyward around the city marked a portal , through which constant advances were being made by this newfound fiend of the deep.
It left dread in the air, bubbling from Arthur’s gut.
He’d noticed a pattern to it all; this wasn’t random. Insight told these emergences were bore quite purposefully, some deviously hatched plan of intelligent undertaking.
Another aftershock rattled Oliath, and slowly disintegrating buildings throughout lost more layers of artificial flesh. Arthur’s gut would speak of death. Perhaps some newest evolution of this planetary transformation would begin soon, but for now, things appeared to be stabilizing into madness.
Arthur took another hit from the spliff.
‘Oh my God, they’re fucking idiots,’ was the distortion of Miriam’s source she’d been repeating internally.
Her ‘aura of chillness’ was begging to fade quite rapidly, peace of mind not doing so hot, blood beginning to boil. At least the choir had been correct, offering her some little solace; this had definitely been a good one for Arthur to sit out.
His patience was only slightly shorter than Miriam's, in truth, but she’d often hide it far better. Both were commanding politicians in their own right, each with their own strengths. His was being most reasonable in matters of arbitration, if he’d the patience to bear it. Hers was lying to people’s faces with a smile.
Still, no matter how vicious the voice got within her, how heated ignorance could make her feel, the source within would also speak such grace, allowing her to see the light hidden in others.
Contradictive, her feelings towards people were. She understood the pains of being human, the need for space to grow and learn, the truth of love; that it was for and by everyone. Source spoke clearly about the universe itself, and those deepest wells of compassion it held for all souls who undertook embodiment within its structures of time.
It was hard for everyone. Each soul cutoff from who they really were. So, she’d forgive them inside, all while hating their ‘cunt faces’. Especially this authority, who was maybe her least favorite conglomeration of humans, all-time.
They reeked of arrogant blindness, gross incompetence, and heir of superiority held despite their shortcomings. They’d misplaced self-importance.
As a human with gifts beyond those usually wielded from within a body, who also knew she was but a speck of dust in time, and a simple fool. To see people without such talents projecting superficial veneers of grandeur built on meaningless achievement pissed her the hell off.
Humility; the ability to look yourself in the mirror, was something Miriam found herself expecting of people. So part of her own journey, constantly facing down remergence of ego, having struggled tirelessly to do this work for herself, she’d project bitterness at those who wouldn’t.
She envied the ignorant. Though, sh’d never take their place. It was Miriam’s intolerance of peoples willing choice to root into blindness which caused those cruelest manifestations of source’s voice to emerge. These words part of her, part of source, all pointing to truth — but twisted by this very human girl — lessons in their messages often illuminated by how wrong they were. Other times, they would be dead on.
‘We’re gonna lose it!’ Source shouted.
Miriam heard a command in her body along with the words, spinning away before her mind even began to process. She’d just left the conversation as that man was mid-sentence. He’d get over it, she figured.
A part of her enjoyed being so honest through immediate action, seeing people get back what they’d earned in real-time, feeling so free in the process.
That man was blathering for incredibly lengths. She’d literally been scowling by the end. Yet, clueless he’d remain to the fact she couldn’t care less about a thing he said, no matter how clearly she’d portrayed in upon her face.
As a woman graced with the gift of gab, who also had great awareness of its effect on others, and spent untold amounts of energy to know when she should in-fact shut the fuck up; people like this were her mortal enemies.
This one hadn’t even stopped at the end of his sentences. Miriam would’ve tried to get a word in, but she’d rather have gouged her eyes out than conversed for another second with the dolt. All she wanted were some answers not painted with ineptitude.
After a short time breathing in the hallway outside the agent’s bullpen, slowing her raging mind, she’d finally a chance to listen.
Source had been waiting for some quiet, and it told her what to do.
Miriam emerged onto the rooftop, finding Arthur just where she’d left him. He was rolling another spliff in his lap. Taking a seat beside him wordlessly, he’d be able to tell she was fuming. If Arthur wasn’t so high, he’d have felt her anxiety the whole time.
She was glad he’d not been with her intuitively through that all, and he’d found some escape, but she was even more glad to be beside him. He’d passed her the spliff and a torch.
Miriam followed sources urgings to get ‘straight-up blitzed’ before handing it back. When she did, Arthur finally asked it.
“What’s the word, hon?”
“There’s corruption, incompetence, immorality, lies — inside this building — inside these people.”
Her source flowed true when mind went quiet.
“They’re a bunch of douche bags too,” Miriam spoke for herself.
Arthur took a drag as some sense of peace bechanced them both.
“Is there a plan?” his gut inquired.
“We’re going back to The Nebberath for some R&R,” she’d spoken plain.
Arthur exhaled through his teeth.
“Miriam…” he said turning with a look of disapproval, sometimes doubting the authenticity of insights like these, which seemed to be leading to their bedroom. Yet, Arthur saw a knowing in her eyes, that smile. He’d known she was holding some card close to her chest.
Miriam’s grin turned devilish as she leaned over and took back the spliff.
She’d whispered, “You’ll see.”
It was morning on The Nebberath’s ship-time. Miriam had been in the kitchen cooking breakfast. She made plenty, even though she never had much of an appetite herself, and she’d make more for Arthur when he woke up too — always the late sleeper.
Source was picky about what she put into her belly. Demanding more self-control than she’d once had, paying back in painful ways when Miriam would let her body down.
The kitchen table had been transformed into a miniature breakfast buffet. Miriam was picking through it, trying a bit of everything. That’s when she’d heard the bedroom door open.,
‘Finally,’ she’d interpreted, with flair, from source. They’d been waiting for this, planning their attack with Miriam.
“My god — I needed that,” Octavia declared as she sat.
Miriam had railed her last night.
Arthur was in charge of course, as always, but Miriam had relished the chance to flex her own inner-boss.
“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that,” she’d responded with such lightness. Octavia was glowing, eyes shining so bright. It was here Miriam dropped the act, expression turning fierce.
She’d stared into those eyes with all her fire, breaking through some barriers to a deeper level of awareness within Octavia, witnessing blooms of knowing splay across her drooping face in regards to the true purpose of this invitation.
Miriam had commanded it of her then.
“Tell me what the fuck is going on around here.”
