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“But wait just one minute here,
I can see that she’s trying to need me,
Suddenly I know,
She’s going to
change the world,
But she can’t change me.
No she can’t
change me.”
Chris Cornell, Can’t Change Me
Everett
paced around in front of the hotel room door for only six steps. He turned
quickly as the door opened widely, Marilyn standing expectantly in the
doorway. He took a deep breath and tried his hardest to smile.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hey,” she smiled weakly.
“Um, look,” he tried as he nervously scratched the
back of his head, looking away as he tried to find the words. “Um, we got
back just a little while ago and, uh…”
“Did the meeting go well?” Marilyn asked in the heart
of the pause, hanging purposefully in the doorway.
“Yeah. It went fine,” he dismissed absently as he
still tried to smile. “Wait. No. No, it didn’t. It went really badly.
Morgan’s a, a, well, he’s an idiot.”
“What about Morgan?” Marilyn asked, leaning forward a
bit. The scent of her perfume hit Everett
and he began to blink quickly, looking away from her.
“Nothing. It’s nothing,” he turned away quickly,
stepping back from her. “Look, um, you and me, we’ve, you know, we’ve been…”
He stopped himself, closing his eyes. He remained silent for a moment; so
long that Marilyn began to worry. But he opened his eyes again and looked
right at Marilyn, smiling confidently, but weakly. “Look,” he started over.
“You want to go for a little walk?”
“Okay,” Edgar said, hanging up the phone, turning to
the other four knights in the room with him. “I’ve confirmed that there’s a
flight that’s going to Boulder
and it leaves at just the right time.” He held up a piece of paper, numbers
scribbled over it. “Here’s the information for those of you who want to
make reservations.”
“Ha! You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Roland chimed
comically in. “Reservations. That’s just what my enemies would want.”
“Roland, you’re not important enough to have enemies,”
Sydney
countered, taking the phone from Edgar.
“You’re what?” Malcolm exclaimed, a piece of his
hamburger falling out from between his lips.
“I’m quitting the World Alliance,” Ruwani said
calmly.
“You can’t quit!” he stuttered, unable to swallow his
food as he stared wide-eyed at the girl.
“I’m just not cut out for this,” she confessed,
looking away with a shake of her head. “Marilyn’s too gung-ho and all that.
I just, I can’t take all the stuff she wants to do. She’s going to get
herself killed, and probably everyone around her as well.”
“Yeah, but…” Malcolm found himself unable to argue.
“Hi, this is Sydney Pointer,” the blonde dame said,
sitting on the edge of the bed, the phone in her hand as she flipped
through a personal schedule. “I’d like to book a flight to Boulder Colorado.
No, I’ve got the flight number I’d like. I’d like flight 286, out of Texas as my connection.
Yeah. And flight 119 to Texas.
Yeah. Thanks. Great. I’ll pay at the desk. Thanks. Bye.”
Sydney
slammed her finger down on the phone, her smile suddenly gone. “God, I hate
perky people.” She moved to hang up the phone, then looked down at the
space between the beds, at where Morgan still sat, deep in reserved
thought. “Aren’t you going to make a reservation?” she asked, holding the
receiver towards him.
“I’ll be fine,” he answered quietly.
“But, but, but the Alliance needs you,” Malcolm implored.
“No, it doesn’t,” Ruwani said calmly. “The Alliance needs a
super hero. Or some tomb of ancient knowledge. It doesn’t need a political
science major. It doesn’t need someone like me. It needs some who can, and
will, fight for what the Alliance
believes in.”
“And you don’t believe in saving the world?” Malcolm
asked.
“Not like that.”
“Hey, what’s
up? This is Roland Smith calling. Yeah. Hey man. Listen, I wanted to book a
flight to, uh…” He looked back at the piece of paper Edgar had written.
“Yeah, to Boulder Colorado. Yeah. I’d like flight 286 and
199.”
“119,” Armand
corrected from across the room.
“Right. Well, I meant 119. Yeah. To Denver.”
“Boulder,” came Sydney’s voice.
“Yeah. There too. No, Boulder,” the knight explained to the
phone. “Yeah. And what’s the running price for a flight these days? Really?
So, what if I didn’t want dinner or something? Really? Still the same? How
about if I just packed myself into a suitcase. And you guys just threw me
in the cargo hold? Huh. That cold. I see. Um, what if I opted to just stand
for the flight and not take up a seat, you know? Hello? Hello?” He looked
up at Armand and Ledger. “She hung up,” he pronounced, looking appalled.
“Could you blame her?” Edgar asked rhetorically,
reading a book on the opposite bed.
“You can’t expect to save the world by facing down
some great super-villain,” Ruwani argued with a strange determination.
“There’s no arch criminal, no secret mastermind. There’s no ultimate plan
behind it all. It’s just life. The world has crime in it. It always will.
Crimes are committed by people who want or need something. They don’t do it
to try and control the world. It’s just greed. Or necessity.”
“But hasn’t the existence of the Brotherhood of the
Sun changed your perspective on that?” Malcolm asked. “I’m sorry, but
that’s irrefutable proof right there.”
“Maybe,” Ruwani shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I
think maybe the knights are just, maybe they’re just making it all up.”
“How could they? Why would they?” Malcolm said.
“I don’t know,” the morose girl admitted. “And it’s
not like I don’t trust them. It’s just, it all seems too fantastic.”
“And that’s why you’re backing out?” Malcolm asked. “It’s
too amazing to be true?”
Ruwani looked up at Malcolm with wet eyes. “I guess
so.”
“Hello. I’d
like to make a reservation for flight 119 and 286 for Ledger Richards,” the
knight said into the phone. “E-ticket, to be picked up and paid for at the
desk.” He waited for a second, staring at the opposite wall like he was
staring down a target. “Thank you,” he finally said, hanging up the phone
immediately afterwards.
“Man,” Roland observed. “Talk about commando
shopping.”
“Efficiency is everything,” the sniper answered.
“Life is about paying bills and going to work and
having kids and a family,” Ruwani maintained. “It’s not about fighting
super-secret organizations or trying to stop mad plots to take over the
world. That just can’t be real. It’s not.”
“But it’s happening right now,” Malcolm tried to
argue.
“I know,” she nearly shouted. “But it’s not supposed
to.”
“I know it’s scary, Ru, but sticking your head in the
sand won’t change things,” he tried to explain sympathetically.
“No, but at least then I won’t have to be the one to deal
with it,” she said, turning back to her food, ending the conversation.
“So the meeting went okay, aside from Morgan’s little
adventure?” Marilyn asked. “I’m still not clear why the knights were mad at
him for simply disagreeing with Arthur.”
“It’s a long story,” Everett parried as the two walked along
the sidewalk back towards the hotel.
“It always is,” Marilyn tried to shrug it off.
“Marilyn, I guess the only thing that I needed to
tell you is…” He turned to her, trying to find the words. He sighed again,
looking into her eyes. “The plans for the fortress. All the evidence. The
knights are going to…” He paused, his jaw tensing.
“Going to what?” she asked sweetly.
He sighed. “The knights are going to hand the plans
over to the proper authorities,” he finally said with some hesitancy.
She blinked at Everett.
“Meaning?”
“The knights aren’t going to, they’re going to…” He
stopped again. “They’re going to give the plans to the people who need
them, to stop the Brotherhood.”
“But the knights are just going to sit by and watch?”
she asked, anger and surprise mixing explosively in her eyes.
“No, but…” he tried to explain. “It’s just, it’s not
a knight’s place to dictate…no, that’s not right.” He stopped, struggling
with the statement he wanted to make.
“Everett
what are you trying to say,” she asked. “Are the knights going to attack
the Brotherhood or not?”
He looked her right in the eyes, smiling in defeat.
“No,” he whispered.
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