Chapter One
Arriving at the End
The punch was like being hit by a truck, slamming into his face with an explosive force that left thousands of tiny stars dancing before his eyes in near blinding fireworks. Impaired and disoriented, the ground quickly rose up to cushion his fall, hard concert connecting with the sides of his cranium as colors seemed to merge and light erupted in his vision.
Pain, no thoughts, no comprehension, no understanding. All conscious thought revolved around the here, now and most especially the torment of his screaming nerves.
Agony was too much to bear and for a second his stomach roiled and threatened to release its contents but still he tasted only the sting of cooper in his mouth. It wasn't until the warm, oddly dripping drool began to seep from his lips and the crunch of something hard against his cheek did he realize several teeth had been knocked from his jaw.
“Stupid bastard!” Another kick in the face and the crack of bone resounding in the air. Blood splattered back into his eyes as his broken nose bled profusely.
“What are you going do, freak!” A different voice laughed, egging his attacker on like a baiting Hyena. “Hit him again! Hit him harder!”
The kick landed hard into his ribs, taking his breath away as the skin that had taken the blow began to bleed and bruise. He cried out, an involuntary reaction as all the air in his lungs escaped at once and his shout only seemed to encourage another strike.
“What? You like that don’t you?” someone chirped as he was struck in the chest.
He could barely notice, his breathing was ragged and the throbbing burn through his whole body was intense. He wanted it to just end already, no matter what it was the pain he was feeling through his whole body was too much to comprehend…
~8~
“This is the final announcement for passengers disembarking at Ellis Island rail station,” a monotone, almost pre-recorded overhead voice echoed through the car, “the train will be coming to a stop momentarily.”
He rolled his head, trying to wipe the sleep that stung at his eyes and squint into the bright overhead lights. A glance at his watch told him it was almost three a.m., nineteen hours on this godforsaken train and it wasn’t until the last five hours he had finally managed some sleep.
Just freaking perfect, Riley thought to himself, rising up to grab the bag under his seat and make his way into the aisle, only to have to wait as a crowd of passengers had already formed in front of him.
Most of them were like him, tired, yawning, fighting sleep back as they gathered up the single carry-on they had been allowed and waiting for the train to deliver them to the destination they had all been avidly waiting for since they boarded.
“All those disembarking to Ellis Island station must have their passports, travel papers and residency cards ready for inspection by the conductor once you’re off,” a towering man in a train company uniform shouted over the assembled group, so loud that a few of the passengers who weren’t getting off at this station flinched awake. “Anyone without proper papers can be detained indefinitely until return transit can be made ready.”
The squeal of brakes screamed over him for a second as the momentum tried to pull their bodies a little farther, forcing them to firmly plant their feet onto the tacky industrial carpet or hang onto whatever handholds were within reaching distance. The hanging glow of the night time moon disappeared as the train pulled into a brightly lit station, an arching ceiling seemed to swallow up their train and lose it in the sea of other arriving locomotives.
“Ellis Island!” the towering conductor shouted into their car. “Ellis Island! All those with tickets may now disembark, please watch your step.”
The crowd began to push and no matter how many times he tried to watch his step he still found himself being jostled and pushed onto the waiting platform. Even if it was still the dead of night the terminal was a beehive of activity, groups of people going too and fro, flatbeds loaded with luggage being pulled in every which direction and the sound of a dozen different languages all filled the air.
Among other things that were not so visual or vocal but just as loud and jarring. Even now he was starting to get a headache from all the sounds surrounding him. It was just going to get worse and louder as he settled in.
The station was not a quiet place by a long shot and and it wasn't just the noise his ears could hear…
Should I buy the red one or the blue one?
When is the weekend going to be here already?
I can’t believe he cheated on me.
The thoughts were just random but no matter what he tried he always heard them, loud to him as words. That was the burden of being a telepath, other people’s minds were an open book to him whether he wanted to read them or not.
And he did not.
A conductor began to break up the group of passengers, directing some who already had active resident cards off to gather up their bags and head off, while the rest of them were huddled together and directed up the imposing stairs that dominated the far wall of the station.
First test, he thought to himself.
He knew from all the stories he had heard back home that this was where many new arrivals to Ellis Island lost out first. Three white coat doctors stood between the four doors at the top of the steps, each one holding a clipboard and a scowl that could make your blood curdle. This of course was matched by the dozens or so security guards that backed them up, just itching for an excuse to exert some sort of authority.
They were charged with weeding out the most notable ailments among the arrivals, the ones that limped, or held old injuries a little too tightly or coughed a little too loudly. They didn’t need the sick or infirm spreading something into the city, not when it could be prevented.
He held his breath, hoping that he wasn’t hurriedly lead away by some young orderly looking to instantly please his superior. He payed attention to the stairs, hoping not to trip and bring attention to himself... But quickly stopped since they’d think he was hiding something...
Through the doorway he made it with an intense sigh of relief at his fortune, yet others were not too lucky. One man, Riley remember he had been hacking something badly since he had boarded the train in Cleveland, was slightly taken by the arm and though he protested loudly, the young man in white scrubs never made a sound as he lead him away.
“Die Ankommen vom Bundesrepublik Deutschland Gestell in dieser Linie!” a translator called out in German, ushering a few who acknowledge him into one line.
Another quickly matched him in French, even if he had only a few lessons he could still pick up the gist of what the woman was saying as she waved a few people towards her.
“Ces arriver des territoires français du Royaume-Uni s'il vous plaît position dans cette ligne!” she smiled as a few older women gratefully hugged and thanked her for the simple fact she spoke something they could finally understand after being stuck on their train for so long.
But a few of the words that went into the air were in no way any language Riley knew, or for that matter most humans.
The hooting and bleating sounds of two Sasquatches rang out, both of them carrying some kind of leather satchel on their furred shoulders as they filed into line before a Human interpreter that was a good three feet shorter than the both of them.
Behind them a group of Vampires marched by, all dressed in black robes and as white as the glow of a full moon, following the rapid hand motions of their guide with almost predatory interest.
“All those arriving from the continental United Territories of America please stand in this line!” his head finally snapped back to reality as a burly man in a navy blue officer’s uniform waved them forward.
He was pleasantly surprised when it was only himself and a few others that gathered into a haphazard line, considering the load of train passengers he had arrived with had been several times larger. But considering the moment he had boarded he had been locked into his car without any chance to explore, he wasn’t surprised he had overestimated the number of travelers.
Next came the medical inspections, though it was far from any doctor’s visit he had been to as a child. He was forced to toss his bags onto a waiting table with five other men, told to strip down to his underwear and left to stand there in line as one doctor with an incredibly sour expression looked them over with nothing short of sharp grabs and forceful turns.
Lights were flashed into his eyes, gauging his pupil reactions, looking for signs of infection, trying to see if he was trying to shirk away for fear of something being discovered that had made it through the initial inspections. Skin was pricked and poked, a few times he was left with nasty stinging needle points in his arms, where only tiny dots of blood could collect.
By far it was the worse time of his entire life, being treated more as annoyance then a patient. And the questions were even worse. What had you eaten today? When was the last time you used the bathroom? Drank any unfiltered water? Visited a brothel or whorehouse? Last time you had sexual intercourse? Ever had sex outside your species?
He tried not to balk at any of them, that would have just been the one and only strike he needed to be handed his clothes and bag before being very quickly and none too lightly sent back on the next train out.
But he had to offer up his darkest secrets. No one could afford to let in someone carrying a deadly disease, mental illness or fatal allergy that could possibly endanger themselves or the rest of the city.
Honesty would get him everywhere... Dishonesty would land him in bigger trouble then just deportation.
No, Three-hours ago. Never. Never. Two-years ago... Absolutely never! were his answers. Though it ashamed him to no degree his answers seemed to suffice, though that didn’t mean the doctor gave him any clear hint of the fact. However two men, who seemed to be holding their arms across their stomachs too tightly, suddenly found themselves being escorted out of the room for the most dreaded words of all.
Quarantine.
They wouldn’t be packed onto the next return train home. No, they’d be stuck here, left to wait in the isolated barracks on the far side of the island with people too ill or too dangerous to be left to travel. Only when they were healthy or a proper transport could be mounted would they be allowed to return home.
Somehow he made it through it all, though with a lot less dignity than he had when he went in.
Gathering up his now wrinkled and rumpled clothes he was shoved into another long line, that unlike the overzealous medical examiner, was just a never ending game of bureaucratic monotony.
Thankfully they gave him just enough time to get his clothes back on before he was shoved in, though they still kept him under a microscope. By now he didn’t know what they were looking for but during those two-hours he stood on aching knees and screaming ankles two more people were quietly escorted from the line, both ladies protesting loudly to know the reason for their removal and getting silence as the absolute answer.
Slowly they were merged back in with other crowds, though this time the non-humans were also being trickled in. Somehow he managed to find himself behind a Gorgon who smelled of rotting meat and in front of an Elf who would not keep his six-inch high pet Imps, under control who delighted in poking him in his shins and shrieking with laughter.
He almost missed his cue when he reached the front of the crowd, standing behind the yellow line that divided the awaiting mass from a lone length of wooden booths, covered in thick bulletproof glass and guarded by men with very large guns carrying an charging need to use them.
“Do you speak?” the man asked as he approached.
He was about to make a snide comment that as a Human he’d know how to speak, after all this bureaucratic nonsense and having himself humiliated in the name of medical safety he believed he really deserved it.
That is until he noticed the pair of leathery wings that flexed on the man’s back and knew he was dealing with a Siren.
“Yes,” he was quick to answer.
“Language?” the questioner asked, paging through his paperwork he’d place on the counter like he skimming through a boring book.
“English,” Riley replied in earnest, wondering why the man didn’t look at his papers, which he had right in front of him.
“Name?” again the interview continued.
“Riley Wassen,” he was starting to feel a bit uncertain about this interview.
“Age?” the question came with a voice of un-interest, of wanting to be anywhere but here.
“25, next Monday,” he knew the man didn’t care but still he was so bored with this process and a bit afraid of talking to his first, real Divergent that he couldn’t help but spill the beans.
“Divergence?” the Siren inquired.
“Human,” he could have also tacked on that he read minds but even after reading his mandatory copy of ‘Divergence and Me’ he knew without a doubt he couldn’t tack on a ‘I don’t know’ and still get into the city.
“Has anyone in your immediate ancestral bloodline was or is married to a Divergent that is not your declared species,” well that was the question of his life, considering he was the only member of his family that he knew of he could read anyone’s mind like the common man could read a book.
“No,” the questions of his paternity could have been proven during his medical examination and since he was still in line, obviously it hadn’t been a problem.
“Original point of departure?” the siren didn’t even look up, for some reason rolling the pen across his desk top was more interesting.
“The Territory of Michigan, Detroit” he tried to ignore the pang of guilt and with little effort squashed it.
“Michigan is on the Superior Ocean,” he glanced at him for barely a second, “have you consumed any Lake Sturgeon or Freshwater Dolphin prior to your trip?”
“No, hate seafood,” he tried to grin but a sudden glare snapped his mouth shut.
“Michigan is along the maritime border with the hostile Canadians,” now he was tapping the pen across the desk. “Have you recently traveled into non-annexed Canadian territories of Quebec, Nova Scotia or Ontario?”
“No,” he shrugged, starting to become a bit confused by where the questions were ultimately leading.
“Have you traveled to the annexed territories of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, Nunavut, Alberta, Columbia, Yukon or Northwest?” the Siren posed.
“This is my first time outside of the Michigan territory,” it was the truth, though he wasn’t too proud saying it out loud.
“Have you visited any of the other 38 states?” the Divergent asked again.
“No,” again that embarrassment sprung in his voice, cracking it just a bit.
“What is the name of the closest person of contact from your previous location?” he must have zoned out but suddenly the Siren was eating the end of his pen, literally snapping off bits and chewing on them. “This can either be a parent, family member or close friend.”
For just a second he was going to say his family back home... but that thought was quickly squashed with a healthy amount of anger and fury. He tried to keep the flush in his face down.
“Stephanie Willard,” he answered. “118 East 77 Street, Manhattan.”
The Siren didn’t even seem to notice, finishing off the remains of the pen before sliding another from the breast pocket on his government issue blazer.
“Have you reviewed your state complementary, state-provided materials on all Freezone cleared Divergents?” he asked again, starting to nibble on the end of his pen.
“I’ve studied it from and-”
“A yes or no will suffice,” the siren cut him off.
“Yes,” he gave the answer that was expected of him, but a bit perturbed all his hard work memorizing the damn book was now going to go un-rewarded. “You can see that on my papers.”
He had been on a train for the better part of a day, poked and prodded while being completely ignored and now after all this his patience was starting to fade, even if he was fighting to keep his accompanying anger reigned in.
He had already applied for residency and a job, approved there, passed his Freezone application test, passed on his first try, and completed his pre-boarding physical. Short of actually bribing someone he had done everything he was suppose to and the last one hadn’t been attempted because honestly he wasn’t carrying any cash on him, as was the instructions for when he started this journey.
The siren glanced at him, the first time he really looked at Riley with any more interest than at a person would give an ant. A glint of a smile hinted on the edge of his lips and took him a second to remember his studies of Divergents.
Sirens had an eidetic memory... they also only showed respect to those that asserted themselves.
“Mister Wassen,” the creature leaned forward, perching his elbows on the countertop and giving Riley a good view of the powerful muscles that covered his wings, “you are now entering the domain of Freezone Eleven, known by your native population of Humans as New York City and among Divergents as Crossroads or Port Humanity. Understand that as a Human you are designated a Class-HD species, standing for highly dangerous. Said ranking is not a judgement of your character but of your species totality score against the Council’s ranking system. It is not a discriminatory factor but merely a protective measure against Divergent classes ranked as more fragile than you. Because of that you are barred from entrance into areas classified as Class-P residents, including all Mermaid breeds. If at anytime you enter such an area you will be informed to remove yourself without pause or question. Failure to comply will result in your immediate arrest, deportation or termination for the safety of the residents. Do you comprehend?”
“Yes,” he was a bit more forceful this time, making sure to lock and hold eye contact, so the Siren would not question his reaction as a simple outburst.
“You are allowed unlimited access to Class-M, A, D,” the Siren wasn’t acting any kinder to him but at least now it was keeping him in its sights, “along with access to UD areas only during designated visitor hours without supervision. However as stated above, personal and business interactions with Class-P residents outside their zone is forbidden unless under supervision of a Council approved intermediate. Failure to comply will result in your immediate arrest, deportation or termination for the safety of the residents. Do you comprehend?”
“Yes,” Riley tried to push up a bigger front but it was starting to crack, he didn’t want to push the limit because he knew that while most Sirens had converted to vegetarians under the Council’s tenure they still were masters with their vicious sharp claws and teeth, of which they regularly filed and sharpened for some sort of lost religious reason.
“Most importantly,” he tried to suppress a sigh of relief in front of the Siren and keep up his doubt-able tough guy front, “if at anytime you encounter a Class-DNA species within the boundaries of the Freezone, you are not to engage the belligerent and to inform the nearest law enforcement and Council official of the danger. Failure to comply will result in your immediate arrest for public endangerment. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” he knew from his readings that such an encounter was improbable but the simple fact it could happen was enough to get a tightening in his chest going.
“Finally, if you encounter the Elemental of Freezone Eleven you are to remember one thing. Stay out of his way and do as he tells you. Failure will result in immediate termination, no questions asked, no inquiry, no trial. To defy the Elemental is to directly defy the Council itself. Is that understood?”
He managed to answer yes but he couldn’t help but be giddy.
There’s an Elemental in the city, he was too excited and surprised to form a proper response.
Everything he had read on the Elementals, which was astoundingly little, placed them as the oldest members of the Council. No Divergent questioned their edicts or laws, the mere mention to the contrary was considered a sign of absolute insanity. They were also the most exotic, alien and powerful of the Divergents, also the only non-corporeal race to be known to exist in the thousand or so dimensions the Council had visited.
He had heard there was one held permanent residence on Earth... he’d never have guessed it was in Freezone Eleven!
“Riley Wassen,” a stamp appeared in the Siren’s talons from somewhere, with a forceful amount of power it slammed down on his paperwork. “You are currently cleared for entrance into Freezone Eleven. Your identification cards, an identification badge that must be worn at all times when outside and your citizen number. You are expected to have these materials on you at all times or an equivalent thereof.”
“Thank you-”
“NEXT!”
~8~
"… we’re almost there!" Riley jumped to attention, squinting in the bright afternoon light as he fought the sleep from his eyes. The cab driver barely noticed his sleeping passenger, continuing jabbering away on the bluetooth device wrapped into his left ear.
"Thanks," the younger man accepted, trying to ignore the foreign assault to his ears as the man and catch a glimpse of how far along they were on their trip.
Those were his own thoughts as the cab pulled up in front of the towering apartment building that was soon to be his home.
“That be nineteen fifty,” the burly drive said, his sentence thick with a foreign drawl Riley couldn’t quite place.
It took him a second to guess that the man meant Riley should hand over the voucher he had in his wallet for giving him transportation. He quickly handed it over without so much as a glance in the other man’s direction. He knew it came off as rude, especially after this guy had helped him load a dozen boxes into his back seat, but it had to stay that way.
Direct eye contact made reading other people’s minds easier and this one individual was broadcasting several unpleasant thoughts very loudly.
“Watch yourself,” he said, quickly counting the bills he had just received to make sure everything matched up. “New humans don’t do well in the Freezone... Divergents love to get their claws on the newbies.”
He said it with distinct dislike, as if being Divergent was a dirty thing, the warning more like admonishing a child to stay away from the neighborhood hoodlums.
He did not want to know a thing further as he quickly grabbed his bag, the few boxes he had and was out on the street in a second.
The cabbie wasted barely a breath of time before he was speeding recklessly off into the sea of yellow cars and screaming drivers. He barely paid the departure any real attention, more because he quickly had to adjust his packages and avoid the crowds that seemed to swarm him from all directions.
This corner of Mercer and Waverly was only a short walk east of NYU, the throngs of college students carrying backpacks and lattes crowded the streets and outweighed the suit-clad office workers that usually dominated Manhattan during the day.
But they were just the human faces he recognized... Save for a towering Cakal that jogged passed in bright blue running shorts, its tongue lagging out of its dog-like mouth even as it ran on two muscular human legs. A short bit away a Banshee hissed and cawed into a cell phone, her nearly hyper-sonic voice an almost sickening echo of sounds from her cold blue lips.
Even a tiny Fairy flutter past, cursing at him to watch where he was going as she flitted away on her tiny insect-like wings, flipping him the finger with her tiny hand.
It didn’t matter that they were Human or not, it didn't make it any better. It did help with the Divergents, they thought in their native languages, meaning that all he heard was chattering and never was he invading their personal privacy since he could never hope to understand even a fraction of what he heard.
Balancing his few possessions as best he could he started inside, trying to avoid bumping into one of the surging crowds. That was easier said then done, but somehow he managed, though at several points he nearly wrenched his arms back to avoid brushing up against some wayward mind.
Inside the dark lobby he found the elevator broken, forcing him to begin a long walk upstairs. The building was huge, bigger than anything he had ever lived in before. He already was hating this idea as he caught a few wayward thoughts clicking in his mind from the structure’s numerous inhabitants.
Floor ten, apartment 11B. He checked the paper when he was almost to his floor, just to be safe.
He did that a lot, checked things twice and even three times. It was a nervous habit of his. And lately he had been really nervous. Most obsessive compulsive would even tell him he was overdoing it.
He was only recently an escaped native of suburban Detroit and out on his own for the first real time in his entire life.
Oh, how his mother had wept at the mere idea of him moving out... Then thrown a hissy fit when she found out it was to a Freezone. Sure Freezone Eleven, or New York City as most of its original human natives called it, was one of the safer areas in the continental United States to call home but still, crime rate plummeted when the Council made it clear to Humanity that most Divergents were deathly dangerous when they didn’t mean it, invoking their wraith would be a short, bloody affair with the Human almost certainly being picked out of teh Divergent’s teeth.
Yet still his Evangelical parents believed willing living beside any Divergent was like living in the ultimate sin.
They’d been apart of the lynch mobs that had marched for not only barring the Divergents from access to Earth but also calling for the extermination of their home dimensions. The religious right rarely got along with the idea of evolution, facing down the a dozen ways that evolution had split from the human race on a daily basis was a consistent test to their faith.
A test they did not want to take.
They didn’t deal well with the idea that in some dimensions it was other creatures entirely who evolved to sapience.
Thankfully as he started to get higher into the building it seemed to quiet down, both vocally and mentally. Even the staircase up, probably the only exit in and out, was empty of everything but the dust that muddled it’s wooden surface.
“Oh crap,” the words left his mouth in a combination of shock and a groan, just as the box atop his pile decided to begin to slip. In his haste to try and keep the package where it was he threw off his own balance. Almost in slow motion his heel dropped past the edge of the step and without a real footing he began to fall backwards. But suddenly there was something stopping him.
“Hey superman, lets not try flying unless you’re a licensed pilot or really drunk… or both.”
Riley’s eyes traveled upward, staring into gray blue eyes that seemed to scream with an electricity that wasn’t there. The person that saved him was smiling down at him with a big grin, his arms holding Riley’s body from the perilous fall down the staircase.
God those are great eyes, he thought to himself. But as quickly as the thought appeared he beat it back down. Where had that come from anyways, it was so sudden he was almost taken aback.
“New to the building?” his would be savor asked.
Yet Riley only managed a stammering, “Yes.”
The grin on the man’s face grew a little wider, revealing rows of clean ivory teeth. “Sort of guessed since most of our residents don’t try a suicide dive until the week rent is due.”
He helped Riley back upwards, holding on until he was completely on his previous step, before letting go.
“Here, let me help you with these,” his savior didn’t even wait for the approval from the still confused Riley before he was removing the uppermost box, the one that had caused this whole incident, taking it under his arm and moving onward without so much as a look back.
Who was this guy, Riley thought frantically, why was he so dumbstruck around him?
His mind continue to reel back and forth as they moved to his apartment door. Fumbling with his load and finally managing to get the key into the door he swung the barrier back and drop his boxes into the room, with no regard to what breakables he had probably shattered. He was more preoccupied with the man, his neighbor, behind him.
“Well… thanks,” Riley managed to stutter out again, feeling like a total idiot for his lack of confidence. But the stranger’s smile only grew more.
“No problem,” he said as he handed over the last package, “name’s Jay, I live down the hall. Knock anytime.”
Then with a quick turn he was gone, walking away.
Say something, his brain was screaming to his mouth, don't just be a lump on a log.
“My name is Riley Wassen!” he called after him… not noticing until he had spoken his voice had cracked like a puberty ridden teenager.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, his brain was now kicking his mouth. If only for once something would go his way he'd finally begin to think there really was a higher power. Maybe even if it were to be so kind as to make his geeky voice forgotten for just an instance that would be enough.
There must have been a God because the man barely stopped moving, only waved over his shoulder and yelled.
“Welcome to the building!” Then the door to his own apartment closed behind him and he gone.
Riley watched the door for a good minute before he remember he was staring and finally started to close his own door. The second the click of the lock sounded he laid back against the wood surface and let loose a mighty sigh.
Whatever, forget about it. He had more important things to do then to worry about how he had just made a glorious ass out of himself in front of his new neighbor, like unpacking his stuff and making this space a home. But it was just as his hands came to rest on the package Jay had taken from him it finally hit him.
The whole time he had been talking to Jay he heard nothing.
No, he had heard Jay talking but he never heard even a tiny wisp of mental chatter from man. He had been a telepath since as long as he could remember, he had never been around someone he couldn’t read the thoughts of.
What was made this Jay so different that he was so nervous around him and now unreadable to Riley? This was definitely an interest to him, like finding a diamond after a life time of living in sand, he was more dumbfounded then surprised.
However his thoughts were cut short again as a knock came at his door. For a moment his heart started to race, the nervous feeling began to return. Maybe it was Jay, being a little more neighborly.
He certainly hoped so as the heat suddenly began to rise in his cheeks.
What is with me, it’s just my neighbor, he scolded myself thoroughly.
Squelching all his inhibitions his hand reached forward and turn the handle. But even before it was completely open a pair of arms were being flung around his neck.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” a feminine voice screamed as her arms crushed into his spine. The force of the impact readily told him who it was. No one he knew was as affectionate as her, especially when she was excited.
“Stephanie, calm down,” he tried to get out as his friend’s hug pushed the last bit of the air from his lungs. Yet try as he might to push her off she kept hanging on and talking.
“You’re actually moved to New York! This is so amazing!” her voice was going a mile a minute.
Riley had to stifle a moan as he was not only bombarded by Stephanie’s high pitched voice but her very loud thoughts.
Though he tended to avoid those that broadcasted as loudly as they talked, Stephanie was a truly good person. Her thoughts were not trivial, conceded or harsh like most common people televise, they were almost always clean, happy, a bit on the simple side but when you consider all the complex emotions people could thrown out that was an amazing relief.
I wonder if I should get a cat. I do like kittens. They smell good. Good like that guy across the hall from me. Maybe I should paint my door. Red, no green. I like green.
He had known Stephanie since he was a freshman at Wayne State University, both on the same floor with each other. His roommate was dating her roommate and they bonded over the mutual fact of being regularly kicked out of their respective rooms due to the incessant screwing the two young college kids had. Even after that world-wind romance of two-weeks that culminated in the usual drunken frat party breakup, the pair of them had been inseparable even as their roommates despised the sight of each other.
Three hours later, after spending twenty minutes trying to extract himself from Stephanie’s crushing embrace, another cardboard box collapsed into itself, a cloud of spent dust and dirt signaling its death as it joined the growing pile of used cubes. With its demise an aged clay pot joined the newly arrived coffee table, one of the few knickknacks that had an actual place to go. Cereal bowls were stacked on the couch, next to the washroom towels and all right above all the sheets and comforter for his bed.
Stephanie giggled as she pulled an old family picture from one of her designated boxes, an image of him at three years old with his mother. A very bad Christmas with a Santa Claus cap squarely on his head with a smiling blonde holding him up to the camera.
“God, I hate that thing,” Riley groaned as he tried to make a grab at the picture. “Mom always puts it in my stuff whenever I travel. I’m honestly surprised she didn’t chain my bedroom door to keep me from moving.”
“Oh, no you don’t” Stephanie laughed as she pulled the frame out of his reach. "This is going on the mantle.”
His attempt to regain the picture was interrupted as a knock sounded at the door.
“I’m sending that back to Detroit,” he jokingly threatened as he got up from the floor and made a beeline for the door.
The door swung open and Riley had to try incredibly hard not to lose all feeling in his legs but he managed a smile.
“Thought you’d might like a break,” Jay announced as he held up a six pack of beer, a post it note with the words 'Welcome' scrawled absently across it was pasted to the one of the cans. “Names Jay,” he dipped his head to introduce his intrusion to an inquisitive Stephanie behind him, “I have presents.”
“Hell yeah,” Stephanie yelled as she snatched the six pack from Jay’s hand and happily headed off to the kitchen, leaving their guest standing in the doorway without even a second thought.
Though he was a bit irked at her shortsightedness, Riley was secretly thanking her that again he had some alone time with Jay.
If you could count a very hot guy standing in your doorway some alone time.
“Come on in,” he invited, trying in vain to clean up his residence from its cluttered and box filled mess. “Sorry about the crud.”
“I’ve lived in my place forever and believe me,” he shrugged just as Riley pushed the stack of towels and bowels to the floor to open some space on the couch. “There are still a lot of unopened boxes in my apartment. I think they’ve started breeding.”
Riley wanted to say something clever, a joke or some quick-witted line but nothing came to mind the moment his eyes locked with Jay’s grey irises. If it weren’t for Stephanie’s sudden arrival he probably would be trapped in this idiot’s lope forever.
“Here we go,” she announced, somehow managing to find a trio of mismatched glasses to pour the beer into, placing them on the coffee table before jumping down onto the couch behind Riley. “Cold beer served on a hot day. So… Jay was it… you live in the building?”
“Just down the way,” the man nodded. “Been here about two-years.”
“And what is a single boy like you doing in a city like this?” she asked with an evil smirk, even if Riley was behind her he knew she was flashing it.
“A question everyone within the tri-state area has been asking for generations,” Jay responded with just as devilish a grin.
“How mysterious,” Stephanie accepted, though from the string of thoughts Riley picked up on she wanted more from Jay, and not just his life's story.
He would have resented her but it wasn't the first time they had both shown the hots for a similar person. Jealousy was a secondary thought to someone who could read thoughts, most of the time it took just a little peak to no for sure who the object of their affections truly wanted and it saved a whole lot of hateful bickering later on, in those times when one party would say something truly spiteful in verbal reaction and bring about the end of a friendship.
“I think we don’t want to bother him anymore then we have,” Riley interjected, knowing full well she would have gone on with this tug of war interrogation all night if she could. “He did after all bring us a nice cold beverage.”
“Just wanted to make the newest renter feel welcomed in the big city,” Jay clapped. “We’ve all been there once and the Freezone has a tendency to steamroll over most new arrivals. I consider a civic duty in itself.”
“Believe me,” Riley tossed his glass to the man for affect. “Detroit could fit inside Manhattan and I doubt anyone would notice.”
“Comparable to the island’s one point six million residents versus Detroit’s nine hundred thousand would make it pretty easy to lose… ” Jay clammed up the moment he noticed the bewildered looks he was getting for his sudden spurt of facts. “Sorry, I’m a wealth of useless information.”
“Wikipedia?” both of them asked without missing a beat.
“Guilty,” Jay shrugged, taking a sip of his still frothing beer. “I do find you Humans very useful for that. It really helps the culture shock for many new arrivals to have a non-biased source of information.”
The room was silent a moment, even if Jay made no direct comment about his recent declaration it wasn’t lost on the two of them that he had used the remark ‘you Humans.’
“So you’re a Divergent,” Riley inquired after a beat, waiting for Jay to finish a swig of his drink.
“Yep, never liked my home dimension,” the man shrugged, like he was describing getting out of the boring country to move to the city. “Nothing ever happened there and it was one big endless space of trees and mountains. When they opened Earth up for contact I jumped at the chance to live on the frontier. No offense.”
Neither of them had any idea that their overpopulated, developed world, where every piece of land had been officially claimed by one nation or another, was considered the frontier by many Divergents.
Riley doubted they thought of New York as a old western town and they the incoming settlers, but still it was interesting to play with the idea.
“So you do look like us Humans,” Stephanie smirked. “What Divergent may you be?”
“Get to know me better and you’ll find my Divergence is the least interesting thing about me,” both of them noted that Jay had sidestepped the question but since he wasn’t telling, neither wished to press on with the topic.
They laughed and discussed the finer points of living in the city, cabs, subways, the random homeless man on every corner after nine o’clock that was always asking for your spare change. For fifteen minutes Riley was at ease with his best friend and the man of his darkest dreams.
Rising to grab some more ice, Riley suddenly remembered his early observations of Jay.
Or lack there of.
No thoughts, nothing. Dropping his mental guard, something he rarely did consciously, Riley felt out the boundaries of his limits.
The minor gibberish of Stephanie’s mind were easily recognizable. An out of control train of thought that jumped from one track to another before coming to a crashing halt at some random station was all too familiar to him.
Reaching a little bit further Riley finally made contact with Jay’s mind.
And like the preverbal mouse trap he snatched himself back as he was quit literally mentally bitch slapped into remission.
The second his mind touched Jay’s it was like running full speed into a brick wall in the dark, he swore his nose felt like it was broken from the pain he felt slamming into the proverbial meta-psychical barrier of nothing. Little could have prepared him for not only being stopped from reading someone’s mind but actually being throwback for such an intrusion.
If Jay knew what Riley was doing he certainly didn’t let on, as his eyes continued to study Stephanie with a bit of reserved fascination as she regaled him of her more dorkish days in college.
Not wanting to be put off or draw unwanted attention to himself for his little foray into someone else’s head Riley rejoined them on the couch and quickly delved back into pleasurable conversation.
“So Jay,” Stephanie exclaimed in an effort to move the topics along to more interesting sourcing of discussion, “what is it like living in the center of a Freezone for so long? I mean I’ve only been here a month and Riley just showed up today. Other than the lovey dovey, politically correct version we’ve all seen on TV, what’s it really like to be here?”
“Well Freezone Eleven is one of the largest Freezones but it certainly the most diverse,” Jay explained animatedly. “I mean Freezone Seven is more or less all Elves or Dwarves, even a few trolls and then you have Freezone Thirteen which is almost entirely Shapeshifters and Ferals but here in Freezone Eleven, we have everything from Vampires and Werewolves to Fairies and Vanara or Tikbalangs. Almost every major Divergent is present within the boundaries of this-”
A knock at the door came, cutting off the story before it really got good.
Instead of being greeted by an eye pleasing tenant that made his heart do back flips he found himself with something totally the opposite.
“Hello, new tenant,” a stout man with a dying ring of hair around his head and a stereotypical pair of aviator glasses outstretched a hand a bit too proactively. "I’m Charles Geiger Webb, your resident welcome wagon and I am here to say salutations from me and the other locals to our fair building.”
“And hello to you too, Mister Webb,” Riley accepted the hand, reluctantly of course.
“Right then,” Webb continued onward, not taking notice of the three pairs of very annoyed eyes staring back at him. “You’ll need to be up to date on all the building codes, the weekly news letter for current events and the curfew rules. Don’t want to be too noisy after nine. We also have a meeting for all Human tenants every Tuesday evening.”
“Yeah,” Riley nodded, trying to ignore the sigh of annoyance from Stephanie who was standing behind him, “sure.”
“Now here is my copy of the building codes until I can find an extra copy for you,” he announced, handing over an aged book. “So when can I expect to see you at the tenant’s meeting?”
“I have a lot of unpacking to do,” Riley of course had no intention of attending anything this Mister Webb was going to be at the head of. “It maybe a while.”
Webb however pressed onward, “Well I don’t want to wait long, we Humans have to show the Divergents they don’t get control of this building and make sure Human values and laws prevail-“
“Your a xenophobe,” Stephanie stated matter of fact. “Go away.”
Seizing the door she promptly slammed it in the man’s face, a booming smash making them all flinch and smile at the same time.
“I do believe,” Jay said after a moment of silence at Stephanie’s sudden end to the departure of Mister Webb. “I love you very much right now.”
“Who the heck was that?” Riley said, tossing aside the edict book he had just received like unwanted garbage.
“That would be Charley Webb,” Jay shrugged, retaking his place on the couch. “The building’s self-appointed brown noser. Though I doubt its just his nose up there. He’s made it his point to try to get all the Human tenants in the building to get together, present a united front against the Divergents that have moved into the building in the last few years. He’s been sore ever since a family of Satyr moved in above him. Can’t stand the clanking of hoofs on the hardwood and went absolutely mental when they wouldn’t wear the rubber slippers he tried to give ‘em.”
“Great guy,” Stephanie said bitterly. “Where can I sign up to permanently avoid him?”
“Most everyone pays him no mind,” Jay admitted with a wave. “There are six floors in the building and five apartment per floor. About ten have Human tenants and the rest are Divergent. He’s been trying forever to get more Humans in and making the application process for Divergents more difficult. He of course has fail. This place used to be a crack hotel, ‘til the Divergents moved in and the crack dealers scattered for fear they’d be eaten. Place got nicer, crime disappeared and most importantly, they were quiet, which made everyone ecstatic. Everyone’s afraid if he drives them out the neighborhoods gonna go down hill again.”
“What can he do?” Riley snickered. “Sticking his nose up into their sphincter to get them to ruin a good thing?”
“I’ll let you know when I figure it out,” Jay winked and Riley could feel his skin turn ten shades of red. “Well I have to run, my work shift is in two hours and still have to grab a shower.”
“Thanks again for the drinks,” Riley thanked as he gathered up the three remaining beer cans still attached to their plastic holders.
“Keep am,” Jay offered. “I always keep an ample supply.”
“Grateful,” Stephanie laughed, stanching the cans away and pouring herself another cup of golden liquid.
With a quick goodbye Riley watched Jay go halfhearted, a bit pleased that his neighbor was so friendly, a bit disturbed because the entire time he was here Riley didn’t hear a single thought come out of his head. He had only ever been in a room with one other person that hadn’t given off any kind of thought pattern but that was also because that person didn’t have a pulse to match.
Jay was very much up and walking around, even though his attitude did match that of a corpse.
“I can not believe we just met a Divergent!” Stephanie squealed, before quieting herself to a whisper for fear she’d be heard through the door. “I mean he seemed so normal, I wonder what kind he is?”
“Stephanie,” he tried to admonish her but he knew it was truly a lost cause as her thoughts began to run wild. “I don’t think-”
“He’s obviously a human-kind...” she trailed off, trying to dreg her memory for the right kind of information. “Maybe he’s an Ichor, no his veins weren’t all bulging, Elf we’d see the pointed ears... Maybe an Invincible... I mean I’ve heard they could get hit by a train or thrown out of a plane and they don’t even notice!”
“Stephanie!” he raised his voice just enough to bring her back to reality. “He is a nice guy, you don’t need to be assaulting him for information on his genes. Don’t go running at him with a knife to prove a point.”
“I do think I am smitten,” Stephanie laughed with a fake southern bell accent as she downed the last of her second glass.
“You wish,” Riley muttered as he rejoined her on the couch.
“And hopefully,” the glint of a sinister thought in her head only added to her words, “my reality.”
Hooting and chuckling they returned to their unpacking, boxes and packing paper again beginning to clutter the floor.
The last bits of sunlight had died from the sky and the street lights were blazing bright by the time the two of them were again lying against the cool pillows of the living room couch.
“I think we need to call it a night,” Riley laughed, still eying the unfortunate pile of cardboard containers that held domain over his kitchen and two corners of the living room.
“Yeah I have to be in early for the next round at the hospital,” Stephanie conceded as she stared to gather up her purse and keys, “Call you when I’m off. We’ll get lunch.”
“It set then,” Riley escorted her as far as the door, being as gentlemanly as possible and opening it for the fair lady.
But just as she was about to cross the threshold Stephanie stopped.
“So are you okay?” she asked with all serious stressed into her voice.
“I’m fine,” he countered with, trying to avoid the evident question she was going for.
“No I mean are you okay,” she stressed again, “I know you don’t like crowds and your now in one of the largest cities in the world.”
Stephanie was of course talking about what she called his disability. One of many that she claimed he had. Since their junior year of college when in the middle of a drunken stupor she admitted her undying love for him, Riley had confessed his undying love men. For a sorority girl who could barely hold her booze intoxicated Stephanie had a much sharper wit then Riley would have given her credit.
But that wit ran out when he went onto confess he was not only a closeted gay man but a closeted gay telepath.
It took four days of intense convincing, along with Riley having to retell some of Stephanie’s darker and most top secret memories that only she could know about that he had finally convinced her.
She was surprisingly accepting of both halves of his life, though a bit more cautious about the obvious one.
“I can handle it,” he tried to laugh off but Stephanie didn’t seem to accept it whole heartedly.
“Call me if you need anything… ” she again strained, “anything.”
“I will,” he nodded, “thanks Stephanie.”
Closing the door and locking it tightly Riley walked back into his new apartment, avoiding his wandering eyes from the still numerous boxes and pressing onward into the bedroom, beyond into the bathroom.
Riley vigilantly washed his hands and face, rubbing a cloth over his skin for good effect as the invisible feeling of dirt teased his finger tips. Finally pulling on an old shirt with a faded blue and gold logo from his college days and a pair of red plaid pajama pants he crawled into bed and slept.
Or somewhat.
Sleep for a telepath was like trying to take a nap next to a jackhammer.
To let the mind relax was something he just couldn’t do. Not paying close enough attention and his mental blocking would drop. Then any wandering thought, wet dream and nightmare every soul in this building and probably the next had was going to flood his mind.
Two-hours were spent staring at the ceiling, another two on the bedside clock. It was almost four in the morning when exhaustion and a palatable amount of boredom finally overtook him and he crashed.