I’ve got your back

“I come.”

Declan shook his head. He didn’t have time to argue with Crowe. She had been cleaned up and healed to the best of Mother’s abilities, which were fairly impressive medical skills, but he did not have time to explain why he had to get back to his job. The clock was ticking, and he did not mean that metaphorically. He was on a strict deadline, and Crowe, as tough as she was, would probably be more of a hindrance than a burden. “No, Crowe, it isn’t safe. I won’t be long. I promise.”

She stepped in front of him and placed her palm on his chest. He found her arm to be shockingly powerful, and he doubted that he could simply move her out of the way without finding himself on his ass. “I go. Mace needs Crowe.”

To emphasize her point she pulled her handgun and twirled it like a baton. He started to say something, but her palm turned into a pointed finger that jabbed him in the sternum. “I go!”

Declan realized that there was no way he was going to talk her out of it. Either she was going with him, or he was going to get his head handed to him by his girlfriend’s look alike. He had no option, it was either take her or waste more time. Resigned to his fate he raised his hands in an “I surrender” gesture, “Ok, but you can’t go like that. You need pants, and a top. Otherwise you are going to stand out like a balloon in a needle factory.”

She looked skyward, as if she were praying to God. “Momma, bring them things to me. Please, with sugars and stuffins.”

The bodiless voice of their caretaker echoed in the hallway, “Of course, dear.”

Less than a minute later two drones drifted into the corridor with the items of clothing dangling from below their metallic frames. Crowe snatched the pants and slipped them on over her boots, buttoning them in one fluid motion. Declan marveled at how childlike her mind was, and yet at how astute her muscle memory was. He had now doubt she could field strip, clean and reload her weapons in less time than it would for him to tie his shoes, and yet he doubted that she would be able to name a single piece of her equipment.

Crowe whipped the jacket over her shoulders and zipped it up to her bosom. Declan noted that she hadn’t removed the bandoleers, but had effectively hidden them underneath the bomber jacket. Idly, he wondered how those straps didn’t chafe her nipples and took note not to ask. He was sure she would show him if he inquired.

That done the pair of them started towards the Launch Bay once more. He had to admit that he did feel better having someone else along. He couldn’t believe it took longer for Mother to repair Kristine than it did Crowe. Biology must be much easier to deal with than he realized.

He had to admit that Crowe looked good. She was cleaned and polished, and her skin had a shine to it that he knew hadn’t been there for years. She looked rebuilt, as if Mother had thrown the old version out and had simply rebuilt her from scratch. Crowe, version 2.0, looked even more dangerous than the first version. Her world had been harsh, and it had whittled her down piece by piece. Mere hours on his home and she was already a new person. He could see a vibrancy in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. She looked more confidant and more sure of herself.

As if she could feel the weight of his eyes on her she turned her head to look at him. “Momma said you blow up bad places. She telled me that you killed my home. Izzat true?”

The Revelator nearly stopped in his tracks, but he continued onward. Truth with Sarah. That was the rule. He didn’t see how that rule had changed just because this woman wasn’t his Sarah. He had fully intended to tell Second Sarah the truth as soon as he could, so why would he lie to Crowe? “Yes,” and he nodded his head to emphasize the point, “I go to worlds and destroy them sometimes. I usually just kill off the population of people there.”

“These people are bad?”

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but they can’t all be bad. Look at you. You aren’t bad. I destroyed your world.”

She cocked her head off to one side in thought. “You save Crowe, but if could not then better I be dead. My world sick. Poison. Hurt brain. Hurt soul. Better Crowe die than be lefted there. You did good thing.” She reached out and grabbed his hand. She gave it a squeeze. “Good thing,” she said softly.

They turned the corner and entered the Launch Bay. Declan stared into the room. It was empty. Just a large space covered in gleaming stainless steel, or at least what looked to be stainless steel. The far end of the room held what looked to be a large bay window, but he knew that wasn’t the case. The window showed him the planet he was going to in real time. This allowed Mother to monitor him while he was away, and for him to observe the effects of his handiwork when he returned. He had no idea how the room sent him or retrieved him; although he was sure mother could upload all the information in his head, but he didn’t want information just piled into his brain on a whim. He would learn things on his own unless the situation warranted otherwise.

“Okay, Mother. Send us to the next target.”

He didn’t hear her if she responded, but he felt the wave of energy crash over him in a tingling sensation. This felt wrong, he instantly noted. Before it was just tingles; now it was like being stabbed with hundreds of tiny needles. The process was all but instantaneous and left him no time to notify Mother of what he was experiencing. The two of them vanished into the synchronicity stream.

Poe let fly a Machiavellian laugh. Technically, as a Machiavelli that was the only kind of laugh he could produce, but it didn’t make it less menacing. The moment he had been waiting for had come. He had felt the beginnings of a dimensional rift forming and knew that his replacement was about to head off to Apocalypse another world. That was all the man could do. Unlike the Horseman, Mason was restricted from full interdimensional travel. He was in his probationary stage, and so could only travel to worlds that had been placed on the destruction list.

The Horseman himself could not get near Mason, since he did not know the man’s destination, and the Invigilator made it impossible for him to determine where his agent was going, but Poe had figured out a way to interfere anyway. Poe had surmised that Mason could only travel to worlds that were on the Invigilator’s list for deletion. He no longer had access to that list, but that didn’t matter. He could not follow Mason, but he could redirect him to another world. One that was slated for destruction, but not the one that was in eminent need of retirement. By shunting him away from his target he would cause the man to become mired in the task of killing off an entire world that wasn’t relevant to the time constraints that he knew that the man was under. The Invigilator always placed his minions under time limits, and any delay only served to hinder his real goal. No one knew how every second counted more than Poe. He had barely succeeded with nanoseconds to spare several times. His interference would cost Declan Mason precious moments he did not have, and once he landed on a world condemned to oblivion he would not be able to leave until the job was done.

So he had waited. He had waited for a disturbance in the veil between realities to indicate that his opponent was leaving on another mission, and began the necessary steps to shunt the man away from his intended objective. It would take precision timing on his part, but that was not an issue. Poe was perfection in action. He sense the moment that the A.I. directing the transport was about to initiate travel and redirected its intended path to a distant world that was slated to be destroyed. One that he would go to ahead of them, and speed up the necessity of its destruction.

He disliked causing so many deaths that could have been delayed if not prevented, but in the overall scheme of things he knew that sacrifices, however small, had to be made in order for his vison to come to fruition. He would need only seconds on the planet to make things worse. He would then move on. His goal was to recruit the man named Mason, not destroy him. If he could convince him to ally with him then they could face the Invigilator together, and Poe would sacrifice him at the proper time so that he could actually harm the alien overlord. He would only kill Mason if the man proved to be obstinate. He would be a far better pawn than he would plant food.

Then the moment he had waited for came. He could feel the initiation of the process of opening a dimensional rift, and he forcibly shifted the destination point to his intended goal, slowing the process down enough that it would take Mason five minutes to arrive. He slashed a rift in reality with his scythe and stepped through, already at the place that Mason was headed.

Poe looked the world over. He didn’t care what it was that ailed it, or had marked it for destruction. He simply gazed at it and sent out a mental command.

Intensify.

That was all it took. All the problems that had beset the planet were now amplified a thousand fold. It now had a timer that ticked off in seconds rather than days. The overall time frame for this world’s destruction had just jumped from six months, ten days, fifteen hours, thirty two minutes, and eleven seconds had been trimmed to an exact hour.

He returned to the rift that had yet to close and returned to his other endeavor. Declan Mason and the woman named Crowe would not arrive for another four minutes and twenty seconds.