The Justiceers - Part Three: Chapter Ten
the next chapter in my forthcoming novel
The Justiceers
by Daphne Garrido
Part Three: The Will to Choose
3.10
Arthur Katrinus had decided he was going to enjoy this night. Something broiled in his gut, within his chest, and it had been the whole way.
Gary was explaining the findings of Miriam’s visage as she caused commotion around Fariah’s complex. This woman was a monster, not a devil like Carrigan Marks, more like a hyena; a native animal of this ‘Earth’ Gary was so fond of going on about.
It hadn’t taken a moment for Arthur to get his ass in gear when Miriam visage had explained. This was his chance, and he knew it, what he could do to show those feelings he’d not been able to express.
Such of man of strength — he’d still had trouble finding his words.
He’d known the whole time too; she’d almost certainly be feeling those things he’d type and not send, it’d probably gotten her heart excited every time.
Arthur hadn’t been able figure out his feelings anyway, he just knew they were really big. This would be his chance to show her in action, prove it how he knew he could, whatever it took.
Miriam’s Infinity was safe — Arthur now ceding all rights to his ceremonial co-ownership, in honor of reality — she’d put this together all her own, and it was hers, no matter how sure she was his soul was helping.
He knew he’d build another one with her someday.
Didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the hell out of the ride though, or make a few little changes, he’d actually been thinking about what he might add to bring it all together; just some little touches.
It was running theme for Miriam to need an editor. Arthur often wondered if she got enough sleep.
With the Lithos Miranos nestled safely inside The Nebberath II’s hold, seeing no more damage would come to Miriam’s baby, he’d now have the chance to let it all out; the rage which built as he’d been told of what Fariah had done, how helpless it made him feel to hear of such horror’s inflicted upon the innocent.
This was a most worthy target of his fury.
The fact she’d come at Miriam — attacked her, damaged the Infinity — that would not do for Arthur, his gut wouldn’t allow it, and neither would his burning heart.
He’d see she paid for that.
There would be no more hiding from her reflection for this woman. She would suffer in the pain she’d wrought, with her own shame to do the work, he’d just be the mirror.
Miriam had set it all up, her visage was scouting the place as she’d been tearing it to shreds, gathering evidence, sabotaging the base’s defense structures, and executing a most dastardly subterfuge; she’d actually convinced the bitch they were friends.
Fariah was being nice to her.
Yet there was an aftertaste to the humor of her ignorance that soured in Miriam or Arthur’s mouths, in fact, infuriating them to the highest levels. The blindness it took to do what she’d done, then smile to one’s face, play like she wasn’t a fucking monster.
She was despicable, of lowest morality and character
Fariah was an affront to the notion of justice itself, believing her own deceit of self-righteousness so thoroughly, creating such pain through her parades of performative authority — nothing pissed a Justiceer off more than that.
What was left of her ‘revolution’ was pathetic.
Her facility was barren, the only people Fariah had were as corrupted and useless as her, surrounded only with those who’d flame the fires of her ego, immolating most literally those internal enemies she’d perceive a serious threat.
This bitch had killed off more of her own people than her enemies. If not in barrels of fire, by casting the out to the radiated wasteland of Oliath.
Despite the rock this left in Arthur’s gut, it created a beautiful opportunity.
Arthur and Miriam would crumble this petty-little empire of bullshit around Fariah, and she wouldn’t even know it happening until it’d already been done. This woman had been offered chance after chance for redemption, to make things right with her people so wronged, forever promising change but only ever managing to get worse.
It was almost a little sad to Arthur, showing someone so deep in self-deception who they really were, knowing it would destroy them.
Almost.
“What in the shit is this?”
Miriam’s visage discovered a chamber within which this question had been most duly prompted. ‘Locked’ didn’t mean a thing to Miriam Halafax these days, and this would be one time she’d regret it.
This machine looked like an ancient water-power turbine bored into the granite of Grammaton itself — emanating constantly churning vibrations and sound, with rumbling fluctuations, as if an unstable combustion engine.
Miriam had ‘no fucking clue’. It wasn’t a part of the facility above, that much was sure to her. She needed Arthur’s gut. There was no way she’d figure this one out alone.
‘Where could he be?’ she’d thought.
Miriam’s visage would’ve needed to blink back to The Nebberath II for a status update, but there was much to do, and she was feeling compelled to keep going. Yet her mind couldn’t help but worry about Arthur when she’d not know how he was doing. Darkened places of worry would rise within her to speak lies about what might’ve befallen him, or he could be up to — scary and ugly ones.
She’d hurt her own heart with those things she never wished to see, praying them the projection they hopefully were.
Even now, feeling so embodied within her goddess, Arthur was Miriam’s weak point. The fear of not seeing him again would always rear its head — clouding her otherwise clearest foresight, tainting her channel with distortion, dimming her light — so scared of the notion she’d be alone, no matter how silly that seemed with her connection to the beyond.
So, Miriam Halafax did what she always would, asking her heart what it would feel like the next time she saw him; knowing it would tell her in feeling.
Closing her eyes, making sure to seek the answer from a place of stillness, not remembering the last time she’d pulled this old trick out the hat, heart spoke true; it was going to feel really good.
She’d hold her Arthur again.
That was enough for her in this moment, despite the sense of dread she’d found growing around thoughts of this machine, and how much it felt like she needed him right then. It would be okay, she knew it; Miriam trusted her heart.
This ‘rebellion’ was comical.
Earlier, Miriam’s visage found a longest passage winding up to the surface. She’d blinked herself along to each next curve, afraid going straight up would embed her within Grammaton’s crust and not wanting to find out what happened if it did.
She’d found a hatch in the ceiling of its highest chamber. Learo was above it, she knew their energy better than anyone’s right now. Miriam solved the riddle immediately, some divine alchemization of fact and insight, and it just made the most sense — she was beneath the solar farm.
‘Well fuck,’ Miriam had thought then, before blinking back and relaying the information through Gary to Arthur.
It was after that she’d found her way in exploration towards this giant generator of ‘who knows what the fuck that is’, where she’d been pondering next steps.
It was then the vault-like door behind had sputtered open on its faulty hydraulics; Fariah with a most confused and infuriated expression upon her face, hanging in that doorway.
Miriam’s visage had said one word before vanishing.
“Shit.”
Arthur would need to find the way in.
Gut was speaking very clearly right now, telling of the how he’d infiltrate Fariah’s hellhole, and get Miriam out of trouble.
The drop-pod had landed Arthur in Oliath proper, former site of The Grand Bizarre, opening its hatch to the fallen and scorched-bronze visage of Learo itself. He’d not hesitated to speed The Beast towards the former statue’s lowest structures. On the side facing away from the hydrogen bomb’s blast, they were mostly holding together.
Arthur had already decided, even once his legs were fully healed, The Beast was on the team; this was his baby.
Surrounded in a bubble-shield, searching for some way in and down, his heart surged with that feeling now known.
Miriam’s visage appeared right before him then, clearly frightened, something having changed for the worse.
“Arthur, I don’t have much time,” she’d explained.
“You’re on the right path, but you need to hurry.”
He’d not known how to respond in the moment, heart hurting so badly from it all, searching for the will to choose his words.
“Oh, no,” Miriam’s voice told of something elsewhere.
Then she’d gone.
Arthur screamed there — having lost that chance.
Feeling so angry at himself, thinking of the nights he was so close to just doing it and making sure she knew how he felt. Wishing he’d not worried so much about the 'how’.
‘What have I done?’ is what he’d been asking himself on repeat, as he’d charged The Beast forward in search of some path to his girl.
