Doomed To Dream - Part 28

Waiting is always the hardest part. For most of his life Sollux had realized that. When he was young he hated waiting for his guardian to come back from trips into town for food. When he started learning about computers he hated waiting for his code to compile. Once he was working with Cyclos on movies he kept waiting for a lot of things: script completion, actor casting, shooting, editing, that moment when all of it would seem valuable and worth it and maybe something like fate. The list went on and on, and little of it could compare to the here and now of sitting at his desk, head pillowed on his arms, staring at his monitor and waiting for something, anything that would tell him what was happening.

Which, when he thought about it, was kind of pointless. From what Vriska had told him—for once a complete, unabridged version of everything she'd experienced with the hierarchists—she wouldn't have even been with Veruna for long by now. At best he'd have to wait another ten hours, if not days, before he heard from her again. Still, he waited, because they had both known the risk that could come from all of this. If Veruna thought, for even a moment, that Vriska wasn't being honest with her then she could easily kill Vriska and send her people to learn what she could from Vriska's husktop before Sollux would even suspect something was wrong. His job now was to be one of a group of members of the We8 taking turns keeping a vigil over Vriska's husktop. Any unexpected activity would result in the complete wipe of both her personal husktop and the whole of the systems in her businesses. Not that he was about to let many others take up the vigil. This was his duty. He had, in his own way, sent her into this, with no backup, no support, no hope, and it was his job to see it through to the end. So he'd all but barricaded himself into his room, the locks in place, the door blocked by a clothing storage unit, and his miniature thermalhull stuffed with food and drink. As for sleep... Well, in the same hack of medical supply systems that he'd done to secure Vriska sopor pills, he'd had himself sent a supply of stimulants to keep him awake. He wasn't about to abandon her. A few minute drop into the realm of sleep to check for new voices was one thing, but throwing hours of the watch away...

“System activation detected. Beginning initialization. Estimated time until completion 4.13 minutes. Decryption program 6.12.10.258 readying. Stand by.”

Sollux's head shot up from the pillow of his arms fast enough that it actually dizzied him. No, this wasn't possible, was it? Vriska hadn't been gone nearly long enough to have returned. Their best estimates put the absolute earliest he could expect her another three hours from now. Yet he had no reason at all to think his system was wrong in its synthesized announcements. Someone—no, Vriska because he refused to believe that someone else would be able to exactly produce the random combination of programs and files that had to be selected to start the decryption of Vriska's system—had clearly started the ball rolling. The question was just what it all meant.

Sollux groaned and pushed himself back from the desk, letting the wheels of his chair carry him over to the cabinet that held his excess computer gear. A simple Trollian conversation would be nowhere near enough for him to be comfortable talking to whoever it was—Vriska, if there were any gods out there at all then they better make it Vriska—that had unlocked her computer. This was going to need a full face to face. That meant retrieving his webcam and headphones and mic, not to mention the other cords and secondary husktop—a recent purchase—that would be connected to his system and solely dedicated to the process of running a rolling encryption on the conversation for even more security. Yet, even with all of that it only took him a few minutes to get everything set up, nowhere near enough time to distract him until the decryption finished running. No, he had almost two hours to blow, and only one outlet for it. After all, misery loved company, and he was pretty certain the news wasn't going to cause Tavros anything other than extreme duress.

* * * * * *

One of these nights things were going to go as expected, Sollux mused as he opened a pseudo command-line box on Vriska's husktop directing her to attach all items necessary for visual authentication. All it took was the image blinking into life on his screen of Vriska, haggard but whole and alone in the familiar setting of her officeblock, for him to breathe a sigh of relief. Of course by the time that sigh was out his own system was relaying his own visual image to Vriska. While his face was popping up on her monitor a smaller screen displaying himself flashed into life on his screen, and Sollux was almost hypnotized by it for a moment. Had he really been chewing on his lip? Clearly he had because his teeth were tinged yellow from the blood that was even now welling up from a cut. Damn, hadn't he outgrown that when he was only five sweeps? Apparently not.

His eyes were drawn from the display of his own face as Vriska's hand came on screen and her fingers waggled a him in greeting. It was a motion so cheerful, so out of place in his stress, so clearly a feigned attempt at normality that Sollux couldn't help but glare at her.

Glare and demand to know, “What the ever living fuck is going on here?” He couldn't even begin, didn't even try, to keep his clear relief out of his voice.

“Now now, Sollux. If you talk like that all the time people are going to think your kismesis is rubbing off on you. That would be quite unseemly,” Vriska teased, her eyebrows wiggling in a suggestive manner, and he snarled at her. Jokes like that at a time like this...

Things had to be bad.

“Fuck propriety. What's going on. I thought you were supposed to be...”

“I was,” Vriska admitted, and Sollux stopped when he saw her forced expression fade. “I met with her. Discussed the plan. Outlined everything. It went just like we wanted it to, Sollux. Except for one thing.”

“What?” he snapped. This was not the time for her drawn out theatrics.

“She doesn't like the target.”

For a moment Sollux didn't respond, not because he was surprised so much as because he found himself oddly indignant at the statement. What wasn't to like about it? He'd spent days planning it out with Vriska, Tavros, and a few key senior members of the We8. Did Veruna not understand how much work had gone into picking an ideal target? Worse, why did he feel like his pride had been challenged by Veruna's refusal? This whole situation was getting far too fucked up if he really had that much pride in a plan that would kill so many trolls. How had he come to this place? It was almost amazing he recognized himself when he looked in the hygieneblock mirror in the evenings.

“What the fuck is supposed to be wrong with the target? It had everything she wanted,” Sollux pointed out, as if Vriska wasn't already aware. “High concentration of lowbloods and support structures of the current system. Potential for broadcast due to the presence of news trolls of various media outlets and formats. Close enough to the Empress to send a decisive message, but not close enough to risk either of you. Not to mention that it suited our purposes too. Proximity to several medical institutions, while being enough distant from local Enforcer HQs to make escape easy. Enough to look flashy without causing too much pain, despite the damages. What the fuck was wrong with it?”

“It wasn't close enough to the Empress.”

Never before had Sollux truly understood the meaning of the word 'flabbergasted.' Now, undoubtedly, he understood. Because there was absolutely no other word that could adequately describe his astonishment over Vriska's words.

“You're fucking kidding me. The location was within sight of the Imperial Residence.”

Vriska sighed and started to chew on her own lip. What she was about to say was, clearly, not going to make him happy.

“Sollux... Listen to me. She doesn't want the Empress to learn about the attack. She wants the Empress to die in it.”

No. No, that was completely not a thing that was just said. That was not even a thing that was possible to consider being a thing that was just said. So Sollux just stared at Vriska, waiting for her to laugh at what was clearly a joke. Had to be a joke. Please, let it be a joke.

She wasn't laughing. Why the fuck wasn't Vriska laughing? Okay, so that had to mean that he'd heard it wrong. Sollux moved to plug and unplug his headphones, ran a diagnostic on the audio program, had his system analyze the recording of Vriska's lip movements because something had to be wrong here. She couldn't have just said that. Couldn't.

“Okay,” he almost whispered into his microphone after a few moments of fiddling, “There. I think I've fixed whatever problem there was with my system. Could you run that by me again? I'll hear it right this time. Because there is no way you just said what I think you said.”

“Sollux, she doesn't want the Empress surviving the attack. I'm to rework the plan to occur during the public celebration of the wriggling day of Empress Gyliea, and I'm not to let her survive it.”

“Fuck.” It was the only thing Sollux could think to respond with.

No, that wasn't true. “But that's... She's... It's...” He could also apparently stammer pointlessly like a dumbass as he tried to wrap his pan around the impossibility of what Vriska was telling him.

“Yeah,” was all Vriska dredged up in response.

“You... You can't do this,” he found himself snapping at her. “Vriska, promise me you aren't doing this.”

“I have to Sollux,” she whispered, her voice weak and pained. “She's threatened Kanaya.”

“There are bigger things at play here than your quadrants, Vriska! If you do this, her life might as well be forfeit anyway. Being the clueless matesprit of a terrorist is one thing. Being the clueless matesprit of the person who murdered the Empress is completely different. If you fail, she'll get life in prison. If you succeed, you'll be lucky if the Heiress gives her a swift, clean death.”

Maybe that was overstating it, Sollux thought after a moment. He didn't know much about the Heiress, but she had seemed so sweet and kind at the dinner. Surely she wouldn't... No... Sollux wasn't so sure about that. There were things that drove a troll to desperate action. He knew that better than many, didn't he? Hadn't he been willing to go that far for Cyclos? Hadn't he actually gone pretty far to protect his guardian?

“No. They wouldn't do that,” Vriska growled, but there was an edge in her voice that told him that she was trying to convince herself, not him.

“How can you say that?”

“It's never...”

“That doesn't mean it won't change when you do this,” he pointed out, trying to sound far more calm and collected than he truly felt. If she, if they, did this, then everything was going to change. The rules would go right out the window.

“And do you think anything the Empress or Heiress would do could possibly be worse than what Veruna will do if I fail?” Vriska asked. “Honestly, Sollux, tell me that. Give me another choice.”

“Go back to Veruna and kill her. Do it now,” he urged her, more than aware that Vriska wouldn't agree. It was more unreasonable to ask Vriska do that than to plan a new attack. Vriska would die, her deceit would be revealed, and everything would unravel until there would be no We8. Hell, Sollux himself would probably only be able to find protection by going to Tethys, becoming her tool, if she survived Veruna's ambitions.

“Can't do that,” she responded with an exaggerated eye roll. “She's stronger than I am. She's faster than I am. She's got nothing to hold her back.”

And Vriska did. Her own gift might ruin her in the process. “Madness is worth the risk,” he countered, more than willing to make Vriska aware of just how much he knew now. “Surely you can see that.”

Vriska, to her credit, didn't even flinch at his words. Instead he found himself faced with a sad acceptance of them. So she had known, or at least suspected, that he'd figured it out. Maybe he didn't quite have the hand up on her that he'd thought. Well, she was unpredictable at the best of times, and this was hardly to be considered the best of times.

“Even if I did survive the fight, even if I did keep my pan intact through the whole thing—which was hard enough with the maroon, just so you know—there would still be the rest of the hierarchists to deal with. At least two of them know where I live, know where I work. There is no guarantee that Veruna hasn't got contingencies to deal with me murdering her.”

If Sollux was any gauge of character, the psycho fuchsia had just that. He would, in her position. Just because the seadweller was crazy didn't mean she was stupid.

“Do you know what happens then, Sollux? It's not just Kanaya. It's my ashen quadrant as well. Terezi, Karkat. And with Karkat, you. You and Cyclos. And if they get to you, if they get into your system, because trust me Sollux, they've got the numbers to overwhelm you if nothing else, then every last member of the Web. Oh, and let's not forget everything beyond that. Kanaya's quads as well, for nothing more than the crime of being inclade to me. Gamzee... Oh man, that on will be rich, wont' it? They've already got a reason to hate him, and it will be a bloody take down. Karkat's quads too, which means Aradia. You've met her once or twice, right? Nice girl. What did she do to deserve this? It doesn't end there, Sollux. It couldn't. Remium for being raised with me, and working for me. Every last person I've made contracts with, which includes a lot of the people we're supposed to be protecting. So don't you even begin to tell me that going straight for Veruna is an option.”

With every sentence Vriska's words had grown more forceful, more bone shakingly loud. And so when she came to an end, almost screaming at him so loud that Sollux was certain that Karkat and Cyclos could hear it in the production facility in Ristart, he didn't have a response. His ears were too busy ringing, his pan racing. Never before had she raised her voice to him like that. Even when she was panicking or slowly descending into something that might have been madness, she was in relative control of herself. Even when they'd first met and her dagger had been at his throat, she'd been cool and calm. But now...

“Vriska...”

“Sollux, I need your help for this to turn out as something other than a disaster. Please...” Vriska's voice was a whisper so quiet that Sollux had to strain to hear it through the ringing in his ears. “Please, Sollux, I need you to help.”

“How long do we have?” he asked after a moment. As if he was going to leave this to her alone. The only way they were getting out of this alive was to work together.

The relief in Vriska's voice was so heavy, so thick, that Sollux could almost taste it, half a world away. Even an empath like her wouldn't need their gift to notice it.

“She gave me thirty hours, about five or so ago. And I'll need another two and a half to get back.”

It wasn't much, but Sollux was certain he could have come up with something in less. “So we've got about twenty two or some such. She really hasn't given you much time at all, has she?”

“It's like there is much before the event. I've got to change the plan, run it by her, finalize it, deal with recruitment... We'll be cutting things close as it is if I want to make sure that nothing goes wrong and as few people as possible get hurt. The fact that she even gave me this much time...”

As Vriska listed off the points, Sollux realized just what Veruna wanted them to target, and it was suddenly hard to breathe. He had been wrong. There were no gods, because if there were, this wouldn't have even been an idea.

“You used Kanaya, didn't you? Shit, it probably wasn't the best idea to bring your matesprit up around her.”

“She already knew about Kanaya,” Vriska said, waving him off. “Nothing's changed. Besides, I needed the time to get through to you. So can we just get to business. We've got just over twenty hours to change everything, create new orders for the members of the Web, devise a new strategy for...”

“No,” he cut in, his voice as sharp as he could manage to get Vriska to stop. Luckily it worked, because he was left with her staring at him in bewilderment.

“What do you mean, 'no?' You said you would help, Sollux. Why aren't you helping?”

“Because there's something you've got to do before we get down to this business.”

“There's nothing more important than our planning. We're not going to have enough time as it is, so I won't have us wasting any of it. There are irons, Sollux. They are in the fire. Ripe for dealing with. We're going to get through all of them. All of the irons. So stop...”

“Vriska, just shut up. Geez, you're never going to learn how to do that, are you? Nevermind. What's important now is that you get really ready for doing this.”

“I'm ready,” she snapped, slamming her fists on her desk as she said it. Clearly she wasn't if she was so close to throwing a tantrum.

“No. You're not. It's time you stopped running. Stopped hiding. Talk to your moirail. We're not doing anything until you do.”

“I don't have a moirail! Thanks for rubbing it in, douchebag.”

“Dammit Vriska,” he said through gnashing teeth as he rubbed his temples, “I'm tired of playing here. Talk to Tavros. In the meantime, I'll get up an emergency summons for the Web.”

“Sol...”

A single keystroke and Vriska's image was gone, replaced by an open Trollian window. No more dancing around the fucking quadrants. Tavros was coming out of the shadows, like it or not.



twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling adiosToreador [AT]

TA: 2he2 your moiiraiil and iit2 tiime for you two deal wiith iit

TA: 2he need2 you and you need two focu2 her

TA: thiing2 are hiittiing the whiirliing deviice and iif 2he cant handle iit we are all 2crewed

TA: veruna want2 the empre22 dead and vrii2ka two do iit

TA: be ready 2hell be contactiing you once 2he get2 over her2elf

twinArmageddons [TA] ceased trolling adiosToreador [AT]