welcometothepenumbra

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE HALLOWED HALLS OF HELICOID (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now approaching Fort Terminus.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Our next stop?

The Hallowed Halls of Helicoid.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

BAILIFFS (MUFFLED): (FADING IN) Nothing over here, your Horror! Nor here, your Circuitousness! Most horrible Judge Helicoid, I’ve found the hu– ah, nevermind. That’s another bit of rug!

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) He’s not leaving! Come on, Talfryn, you have to do something, think! (DEEP BREATH) Okay. Okay, okay. Uh, what would Sir Marc say? Uh… “C’mon, Tal, you’re afraid of one measly little house-sized snail? I could slay it with Dampierre’s eyes closed!”

Ohhhh, that’s not helping!

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): (YELLS)

TALFRYN: Oh no!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Sir Damien!

Release him from your bubbling grasp, slime-beast! If you’ve harmed my greatest friend and rival, I swear—

JUDGE (MUFFLED): I’m not doing anything. Now, tell him to stop bellyaching, would you? He’s horribly close to my ear.

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): (LAUGHS) The tapestries! Saint Damien above, I’ve made sense of them! Ha-HA! At last, the world’s returned to order!

JUDGE (MUFFLED): Your priorities are astonishing, human.

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): You are a false prophet, snail! These tapestries show Sage Helicoid clearly, and he is a human! A very old man with a ceremonial helmet and a long, flowing cloak, carrying a spiral shield.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Hm. Where is that? I don’t see it.

TALFRYN: (OVER THE BELOW) Oh, it’s okay; Sir Damien’s okay. But I have to get out of here.

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) It’s… it’s right there, Sir Angelo, how can you not?

JUDGE (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) That? Looks more like a snail to me.

TALFRYN: (OVER THE BELOW) Sir Marc would tell me to look at everything available to me.

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) It’s an old man!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) I could see it either way, to be honest.

TALFRYN: (OVER THE BELOW) So, I’ve got—

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) What?!

JUDGE (MUFFLED): (OVER THE BELOW) Well—

TALFRYN: (OVER THE BELOW) …my spear. And my armor is out there, and…

JUDGE (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) —the snail’s foot is like a robe, you see.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) Oh, I like that!

TALFRYN: (OVER THE BELOW) —my pack, probably surrounded by little slimy things by now.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) And the ceremonial helm’s horns are his eye stalks! Very thick ones…

TALFRYN: (OVER THE ABOVE) (GROANS)

JUDGE (MUFFLED): (OVER THE BELOW) Mm, it takes all kinds, man, it takes all kinds.

TALFRYN: (OVER THE ABOVE) I’m so thirsty, I wish I didn’t leave my backflask…

BAILIFF (MUFFLED): Your Horror! I’ve found him!

TALFRYN: (GASPS)

JUDGE (MUFFLED): > You are pointing at me, Bailiff.

BAILIFF (MUFFLED): Is… is that not who we were lookin’ for, your Circuitousness?

JUDGE (MUFFLED): (GROWLS) The human! The human. Go and find him!

TALFRYN: Okay. I’ve got… this wall! And… these pipes in the wall. And… beyond those, some thick glass-like stuff leading to… water.

We’re underwater. We’re under the Terminus, aren’t we? Oh no, oh no…!

SOUND: HEAVY SCRAPING.

BAILIFF (MUFFLED): Your Horror! This time I’ve found him!

JUDGE (MUFFLED): Bailiff, that is not a human! It is a wall! Don’t call me until you have found a human, because I am very busy! (GRUMBLES) It’s clearly a snail!

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): The tapestries show an old man!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): I agree with you on that point, Sir Damien. They show—

BAILIFF (MUFFLED): (OVER THE BELOW) I’ll just check on my own, then.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): (OVER THE ABOVE) —both a snail and a man! It is one of those optical delusions.

SOUND: GRUNTS, SCRAPING.

JUDGE (MUFFLED): Illusions.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Thank you! It’s one of those illusions delusions.

TALFRYN: Spear, gotta get my spear, gotta get my—

BAILIFF: Bailiffs! Bailiffs! This wall is talking!

TALFRYN: Oh no!

BAILIFF: And now it’s saying “oh no!” And— (GASPS) The human!

TAL: (YELLS)

SOUND: SQUELCH.

BAILIFF: And now it’s got a pointy stick goes right through my belly.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

TALFRYN: Give my spear back!

BAILIFF: No! You give it to me!

SOUND: GRUNTS.

BAILIFFS (MUFFLED): (OVERLAPPING) What’s that? A human? Disgusting! Ooh, that looks fun! Beat him, Bailiff! Beat him!

JUDGE (DISTANT): Hmmm? What’s that, now?

BAILIFF: I said let go! (GRUNTS)

TALFRYN: No! You let go! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BREAKING GLASS. BUBBLING WATER.

BAILIFF: Now look what you did! Your silly stick’s stuck a hole in the… wall.

Uh-oh.

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

BAILIFFS: (OVERLAPPING, OVER THE BELOW) What’s that? Oh no! I don’t know how to swim! (YELLS)

JUDGE: (OVER THE ABOVE) Bailiffs! I say, my bailiffs are being washed away!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): You’ve flushed them, Talfryn! Genius! The door is clear, now; you can run back up to the surface and get the salt!

TALFRYN: (PANTING) Okay. Now I just have to… take care of the big one. And—

ANGELO (MUFFLED): And then you slay this evil snail!

TALFRYN: Yeah. That. (GULPS)

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): Where is he? What is he doing?!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Perhaps he’s… not convinced by the salt?

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): He had better be. With all respect for the tracking profession, Talfryn, a great, great many authorities before you have agreed that salt kills snails. And at the moment I’d rather trust centuries of wisdom over one reluctant tracker!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Talfryn, please! Strength in unity! A knight must prize all voices!

JUDGE (MUFFLED): I have grown rather tired of all these voices myself. (DEEP BREATH)

SOUND: BUBBLES.

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Oh! Ooooh! Now what is that– oh! That strange feeling?

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): Suction, Sir Angelo! The slime is sucking us in!

ANGELO (MUFFLED): Wh– whoa– whoaaaaaaa!

DAMIEN (MUFFLED): Taaaaaaalfryyyyyn!

SOUND: SCHLORP.

JUDGE: Yes, ye– hmm, well! I think that’s more like it. (CHUCKLES)

TALFRYN: (PANTING)

JUDGE: Well now, well now – without your rapscallion friends to lead the way, you aren’t nearly so bold, are you? I should say not, ha hem, hm, ha, not at all. But… mmmm.

It is my profession to lead ways, you know. To give guidance – excuse me, rather, to communicate guidance from the uuuUUuUuniverse – in situations where individuals cannot sort it for themselves. Hmm? I can speak to a power greater than us. Ask it where your place is. And then, all you need to do is: follow. Do as I tell you, and then it will be all over. So. What say you?

TALFRYN: (WHISPERING) If I run for the door, he’ll get me. If I don’t run, he’ll get them.

JUDGE: I should warn you that your friends will drown if you wait much longer.

TALFRYN: (CALLING) Alright! Alright, I’m… coming out.

JUDGE: (CHUCKLES) And you won’t try anything tricky now, mmm?

TALFRYN: N– never!

JUDGE: That’s a good lad. Come out, I say. Come out!

TALFRYN: Three, two, one!

SOUND: SCRAPE, RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, PANTING.

JUDGE: Haaa ha-ha! I knew you would run! (SNORTS, SPITS) The door is blocked, and you are trapped, you small-minded, unimpressive, dry—

Oh, well, you didn’t run for the door, did you?

TALFRYN: N-nope! I ran for this! My backflask!

SOUND: WATER SPRAYING.

JUDGE: (YELPING)

TALFRYN: Ha! I knew it! Fresh water will… uh-oh!

JUDGE: (BIG SNORT, SPITS)

TALFRYN: Wuh!

SOUND: SPRAYING WATER.

JUDGE: (YELLS)

TALFRYN: No more spitballs, or I’ll keep spraying!

JUDGE: Curse you! My divine face, I say, my divine face has been swollen!

TALFRYN: And I’m sorry I did that. But you have to let my friends breathe, or else… or else I’ll swell it up even more! And you won’t like it!

JUDGE: (GROWLS, STRAINING)

SOUND: BUBBLING. GASPS.

DAMIEN: (PANTING) The snail’s skin… is shifting! I can breathe!

ANGELO: (STRAINING) Keep at it, Talfryn! Now you just have to get the salt!

TALFRYN: Salt won’t work. We already tried it.

ANGELO: Well, have we perhaps tried more salt?

TALFRYN: We did! All that water that flooded in here was seawater from the Terminus! But the Judge here didn’t bat an eye-stalk!

Because you’re not a land snail at all! You’re a sea slug! And now you have to let my friends go, because—

JUDGE: (BIG GASP) I beg your pardon! Slander! Slander, I say! Everyone knows that the mighty Judge Helicoid is a snail. Why else would I live in this great big shell?

ANGELO: It looked more like a tower to me.

JUDGE: And—! Water, harming a sea creature! How preposterous! (LAUGHS)

TALFRYN: Not just any water! Fresh water! Because basically! It’s called osmosis! Your internal fluids are really heavily saltwater, uh, that’s, so all the water doesn’t rush out of you in the ocean, ‘cause it kind of tries to balance… but anyway, your skin just sort of lets water in and out whenever it wants, so the water on the outside filters into your skin really fast to try and dilute the salty—

JUDGE: Flim-flam! Tommyrot! Stuff and nonsense! Also, I didn’t understand a word of it.

DAMIEN: Genius, Talfryn! What incredible reasoning! Your mind has won the day.

TALFRYN: Oh! Thank you!

DAMIEN: And more importantly, you’ve proved once and for all that Sage Helicoid is not a snail!

JUDGE: Fine, then. I’m a slug. And those pictures on the tapestries are all of a slug! Me! Judge Helicoid!

ANGELO: Mmm, no, I’m afraid there we disagree, slug. That is definitely either a snail, or an old man.

DAMIEN: It is just an old man!

JUDGE: Well then, how do you account for the strange protrusions on his shield?

TALFRYN: Stop!

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

JUDGE: Ooooh! What was that for?

TALFRYN: Stop pretending to be our friend and distracting us and listen to me! I told you to let them go!

JUDGE: After this conversation.

TALFRYN: No! Right now, because this is what you do! You lie, and brag, and put on a big show to distract us, and then you get us when we aren’t ready! That’s why you’ve let Sir Angelo talk to me this whole time…

ANGELO: Because he respected me as an unlicensed educator!

TALFRYN: …so you could always tell what I was going to do next!

ANGELO: Oh.

DAMIEN: He’s not a sage. He isn’t even a snail! He’s just a performer. (SPITS) A second-rate performer!

JUDGE: (GASPS) Second rate! How dare you—

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

(GASPS) Oh, uh, please, uh, don’t spray me… with that, again, alright, h-here you go. (STRAINING)

SOUND: BUBBLING. TWO POPS, THUDS.

TALFRYN: There. You guys are free. Now we’ve just got to see what he knows and leave.

JUDGE: Ha! If you think it will be that easy to—

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

(YELLS, SPLUTTERS) I think you’ve grown a bit too attached to that spraying-device.

TALFRYN: Who are you? First you’re pretending to be this Spiral Sage guy, then a snail? What’s all this for?

JUDGE: Do you perhaps mean, ‘why would I impersonate a long-dead snail of near-infinite power who all monsters listen to without question?’

Because it seems to me that answer is clear, hm hm.

DAMIEN: Human.

JUDGE: Snail.

DAMIEN: Human!

TALFRYN: That’s not all! You said you had orders to guard this gate. Who gave you orders?

JUDGE: I told you, the uuuUUUuUuniverse—

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

(YELPS) Fine, fine! The Senate. The Senate placed me here!

TALFRYN: The monsters have… a Senate? Like the First Citadel?

DAMIEN: That’s impossible! Monsters organizing, conducting a society like– like humans? Blasphemy!

JUDGE: We speak, do we not? We think. We argue. And if we are to ensure our freedoms are protected, we must have a means of enforcing them. So, we vote. Some monsters choose to cluster in families or societies; there is a tree west of here, filled with ten thousand chipmooks, who all must unanimously agree on one vote. Then, there are the solitary beasts, like that… ugh, lizard and his house. Not that he’s voted in decades, the six-limbed scoundrel.

DAMIEN: A lizard? A six-limbed lizard?

ANGELO: Now, Sir Damien, let’s not get too excited right away. He could have four legs. Or six legs. Or five arms and no legs, if a snake’s tail is a form of leg, or—

JUDGE: Four arms, two legs.

ANGELO: Begads, that’s just the lizard we’re after!

DAMIEN: Do you know where the fiend is? Sly slug, tell us immediately!

JUDGE: Somewhere in this building, if he isn’t dead already.

DAMIEN: If he isn’t– what did you say?

JUDGE: He’s been found guilty of treason and sentenced to this fortress, from whence they’re likely to throw him over the edge of the world.

DAMIEN: Thrown over the edge… he is a monster, but… oh Saints, how grisly…

TALFRYN: Was there a woman with him? A human woman?

JUDGE: Not with him, but… (GAGS) A situation too disgusting to speak of. Her trial concludes with the dawn. She’s in our holding-cells at present, along with that pugnacious friend of hers.

ANGELO: I knew Sir Caroline would save her!

DAMIEN: Thrown over the edge of the world… down the Terminus falls… down and down and…

JUDGE: But all is not lost, gentlemen; I say, it is not too late for you to have your woman and your lizard.

ANGELO: Slay the lizard, actually.

JUDGE: Yes, well, perhaps do that before you get her, for, uh… blugh, good… reasons. You will find the monster in this very fortress, deep beneath the Terminus. You will find the woman back beneath my courthouse, where she is held.

TALFRYN: You’re being really cooperative suddenly.

JUDGE: Well, my boy, what else can I do? If I am indirect, I get the spray; if I lie, it’s the spray once more. And if I avoid the spray, well, perhaps that’s because… I would… like to survive this. I’m… well, I daresay I’m quite afraid for my life at this moment.

DAMIEN: He lies as all monsters do, Talfryn. Slay him.

TALFRYN: But—

ANGELO: I’m afraid I agree with Sir Damien, my pupil. A call for mercy is to be respected, but when its caller has proven so unrepentant…

TALFRYN: I… I…

DAMIEN: For your Citadel. This is what it means to be a knight.

ANGELO: It is not easy, my young friend. But it grows easier with time.

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) I don’t want it to get easier.

JUDGE: What was that?

TALFRYN: I said…

You told us the truth about Rilla and the lizard? You swear?

JUDGE: I have too much at stake to lie, my boy. Far too much.

TALFRYN: Then go. Leave!

DAMIEN: Talfryn!

ANGELO: Do not act rashly now, my pupil; the monster is—

TALFRYN: My monster! I beat him! I saved you! So I get to decide!

And you can’t pretend to be the Judge anymore, okay, slug! You have to go back into the Terminus, or wherever you came from. And you just have to be a big slug again. A big slug who doesn’t hurt anybody! Okay?

JUDGE: Of course. I cannot thank you more, my boy. I will chart my own course now.

TALFRYN: You’d better, or someone will come back with even more fresh water. Seriously!

JUDGE: Thank you, thank you! I say one thousand times thank you.

SOUND: HEAVY CREAKING, SQUELCHES. CLANK.

Gentlemen.

DAMIEN & ANGELO: (GRUNT)

SOUND: CLANKS & CREAKS, THUD, CLANKS.

TALFRYN: (SIGHS) It’s over.

DAMIEN: Indeed. Failure, too, is an ending.

ANGELO: I- do hope your instincts prove true, Talfryn. We have let monsters go in recent days, but this… seems riskier.

TALFRYN: Well… if we had just killed him to start like you guys wanted, we never would have learned that Rilla and the lizard-monster are already here! We’d just be walking back into the swamp and we’d never find Rilla at all.

SOUND: SQUISHES.

DAMIEN: That noise… Does anyone else hear that?

TALFRYN: So, yeah! Maybe I can do this! Maybe I can be a-a new kind of knight—

SOUND: BUBBLING.

—one who doesn’t kill monsters, who only hunts for food or to protect the jungle, and—

JUDGE: Protect yourself first, boy.

ANGELO: Talfryn, behind you!

JUDGE: (BIG SNORT)

TALFRYN: (SCREAMS)

SOUND: WATER SPRAYS.

(PANTS)

SOUND: STRETCHING.

JUDGE: (GURGLES)

Uh oh.

SOUND: BIG POP. WET SPLAT.

ANGELO: (AFTER A PAUSE) Talfryn. That was…

DAMIEN: Disgusting. Harrowing. Rancid beyond comprehension.

ANGELO: Amazing!! (LAUGHS)

TALFRYN: (YELPS)

ANGELO: You did it! You did it, my pupil, and I couldn’t be more proud! Did you see his reflexes, Sir Damien?

DAMIEN: Very impressive.

ANGELO: And that shot! Unbelievable! You have the makings of a great knight, young Talfryn!

TALFRYN: Let go of me!

ANGELO: What?

TALFRYN: I said don’t touch me, okay?

ANGELO: Talfryn, I… I understand these jitters. But that monster broke his word and tried to kill you; he was undoubtedly evil.

DAMIEN: As they all are.

ANGELO: I can’t say that. What of the crocodile-hound?

TALFRYN: Stop.

DAMIEN: What of it? We didn’t observe what it did with its freedom, did we? Our failure to kill it has likely visited misery on many more humans already. It was a moment of weakness, Sir Angelo.

TALFRYN: I said stop.

ANGELO: The situation may have been unclear, Sir Damien, but a knight knows what’s best in his heart.

DAMIEN: Do we? In an era of heart-twisting monsters, can we?

TALFRYN: Just shut up already! You aren’t listening! You’re just waiting until everyone else is quiet and then talking about your own problems!

DAMIEN: …Oh my.

TALFRYN: I don’t care whether the Judge was a good monster or a bad monster! I said I didn’t want to kill him, and then I killed him, and I didn’t want to!

ANGELO: But you had to, friend—

TALFRYN: I’m not talking about had to! I didn’t want to! I never wanted to, and now I did and I feel like I’m gonna be sick, okay? (HEAVY BREATHING)

ANGELO: Young Talfryn, I—

TALFRYN: And another thing! I’m older than you, Sir Angelo. I have more experience than you. And you might be really, really good at killing monsters, but right now we’re just trying not to die in a monster’s den, and you don’t know what you’re talking about, so… so… so… maybe the people who talk the most shouldn’t say we should listen to everyone equally when it’s someone! Else’s! Turn!

I’m gonna go sit down over there now!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

DAMIEN: That was… quite clear.

I’m going to see if I can make sense of those tapestries. Perhaps some quiet… contemplation is in order.

ANGELO: Still? You’ve been quietly contemplating for days, Sir Damien.

DAMIEN: Yes, well, things have become… rather complicated, haven’t they? (CHUCKLES) A government of monsters… individual interests, rights, representation? Could those be lies too, my friend? When does one concede that one has cast aside so much as falsehood that the world itself has become… a mirage? The reality not meeting what we choose to see?

ANGELO: I understood not a lick of that, Sir Damien. But I would say that if you worry you don’t understand everything, well I can’t say I do, either. But I listen when others tell me I am wrong, and I learn.

Well, I thought I did. Perhaps I don’t understand that, either.

DAMIEN: Yes… perhaps that is wisest… surround oneself with those wiser, and worry not beyond the scope they set. That is the essence of faith, is it not? To… believe. No matter what obstacles present themselves.

(SIGHS) And I must believe the real Sage Helicoid must have been human. I must believe that monsters are evil, for much wiser men than I have said so, and for hundreds of years.

ANGELO: But… what of the beasts we’ve seen on our journey, my friend? What of the evidence of your eyes? Or your heart?

DAMIEN: My heart… well, that must be because…

I don’t know, Sir Angelo. I don’t know.

But the answer must be in these halls. It must be. And then my faith will be restored, and the world will be as it always was. It has to be. It has to.

ANGELO: Very well, then. I shall talk to young– I shall talk to our compatriot.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Talfryn. May I sit?

TALFRYN: (MOANS)

ANGELO: My friend, I owe you an apology. I was overzealous today. I just thought… well, I thought that without your brother, you might be… in need of guidance. Adrift, perhaps.

TALFRYN: Yeah, well, maybe! Maybe I do feel adrift! And maybe I wouldn’t if everyone would just let me drift for a minute until I undrift myself, okay! (SIGHS) I’m sorry, Sir Angelo, that’s not fair. I just…

ANGELO: It’s alright, my friend.

TALFRYN (MUFFLED): I don’t know if I want to be a knight.

ANGELO: What’s that?

TALFRYN: I said, (MUFFLED) I don’t know if I want to be a knight.

ANGELO: Yes, well, I heard that part, but I assumed that I must be mistake– great Saints on high, man, you don’t want to be a knight?!

TALFRYN: (MOANS)

ANGELO: I didn’t know there existed a single human being that didn’t want to be a knight.

TALFRYN: Even the Queen?

ANGELO: I thought she must have aimed for knighthood and overshot a bit.

TALFRYN: Ah.

ANGELO: Well… aha! Then I’ve got just the solution, friend. If you don’t want to be a knight, then don’t be a knight! It’s that simple. And the day is saved!

TALFRYN: No, I… don’t know if I want to be a knight. And I don’t know if I don’t want to be one, either. I just…

Marc’s been working at it so hard and so long. I don’t want to let him down. I don’t know how not to let him down. And I don’t know what I want besides that.

ANGELO: I see… a far more challenging puzzle. Well, you see, Talfryn, you might… uh, that is, you could… just give me a moment, Talfryn, and Sir Angelo the Strong will have the answer.

TALFRYN: Y’know, Sir Angelo… sometimes when people talk, they don’t want you to solve their problems. Sometimes they just want to know you’re listening.

ANGELO: Then I shall listen more attentively than ever! And I shall update you every third sentence to ensure you…

That is more difficult than it sounds, isn’t it?

TALFRYN: Yeah. Yeah.

ANGELO: Mmm. Well. I will work on that.

And though I have known you but a short time, my friend, I am thrilled to see what you will become. I have no idea what it is, but… I am certain it will be grand.

TALFRYN: Thanks—

ANGELO: And also probably outside.

TALFRYN: Yeah, that’s accurate.

Thanks, friend.

ANGELO: It is my pleasure, friend.

Hm. Do you know where Sir Damien went, by the way? I don’t see him anywhere.

TALFRYN: Uh… nope; I don’t see him.

ANGELO: Is this the sort of problem I should not solve, or…?

TALFRYN: Nope, we should do something about that.

ANGELO: I suspected so.

TALFRYN: (CALLING, OVER THE BELOW) Sir Damien? Sir Damien? Sir Damien!

ANGELO: (CALLING, OVER THE ABOVE) Damien? Best friend and rival to Sir Angelo? Damien?

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

CAROLINE: (FADING IN) …completely ridiculous, that’s why!

RILLA: Ridiculous? So you want me to stay out here and get smashed as soon as another set of guards comes by?

CAROLINE: Better that than being torn apart by the lizard-beast!

RILLA: He is not going to tear me apart!

QUANYII: Now, ladies, please. Why are we fighting?

No really, why are we fighting? I got bored and stopped listening.

RILLA: The monsters aren’t going to let us just hang out here. So if we want to make it out alive, someone needs to stand lookout.

CAROLINE: And someone needs to go get the lizard.

RILLA: You’re just going to kill him.

CAROLINE: And you’re going to– well I don’t know what you’re going to do, but I don’t trust it.

QUANYII: Oh, is that all? My sillies, why there’s just such an easy answer. I’ll just—

RILLA & CAROLINE: (IN UNISON) You are not going in there!

QUANYII: Rude.

CAROLINE: You’re more likely to tear the lizard to pieces than I am. Make a soup out of him or something.

QUANYII: Ugh! I am not some chef!

RILLA: A goblin that spits soup, then.

QUANYII: Oh, yes. I quite like that idea.

CAROLINE: You also have a habit of disappearing and reappearing. It would be foolish to trust you with guard duty. You’d get bored and vanish off somewhere more exciting.

QUANYII: Guilty as charged! Well, then there is one other way I can help, at least.

Hmmm, now how will we compromise?

CAROLINE: Compromise.

QUANYII: Oh, it’s all the rage with the monsters: a system by which nobody gets what they want and everybody just resents everybody else! Very diplomatic.

CAROLINE: I know what a compromise is! (SIGHS) No. I’ve already learned one lesson today, thank you, and now I think I’ll have what I want. This is my mission, and I’ve earned the right to slay that lizard.

RILLA: Well, I have unfinished business with him.

CAROLINE: What business?

RILLA: I think someone who’s so dead-set on nobody asking about her past doesn’t really get to demand I tell her mine.

CAROLINE: Hmph. Fine. Witch. What compromise did you have in mind?

QUANYII: How about… (GASPS) That’s it!

RILLA: What’s it?

QUANYII: Our compromise will be this: Rilla will go in there first, and you’ll have your talk with the lizard and learn everything you can.

CAROLINE: How is that a compro—

QUANYII: But! We’ll all decide on a time limit together first; and once that’s up, you’ll just scurry right back here and then cranky and I will go in and take what we like from your scaly friend. Does that seem fair?

CAROLINE: No.

But I’m willing to tolerate it.

QUANYII: Rilla?

RILLA: I… uh…

QUANYII: And I’d suggest you take the compromise, or we might have to go to a vote. And I think you know which side I’m voting for.

RILLA: …Fine.

CAROLINE: Good. Now, how long do we think is fair?

RILLA: An hour.

CAROLINE: Two minutes.

QUANYII: And I vote for negative two minutes, so when you average that all together you get… twenty minutes!

RILLA: (OVER THE BELOW) That’s all?

CAROLINE: (OVER THE ABOVE) That long?

QUANYII: That’s compromise for you. Twenty minutes to ask your questions, and then you come right back here.

RILLA: But I—

QUANYII: And we’re agreed, so your time starts… now!

CAROLINE: Have fun, Rilla. Don’t make me come looking for you.

RILLA: I won’t.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. RECORDER STARTS.

Research log, entry… (SIGHS) Who am I kidding? This hasn’t been a research log in weeks.

MUSIC: STARTS.

(SIGHS) I… don’t know what I’m going to do, to be honest. I’m in the hall just before Lord Arum’s cell, and– if he’s still in it.

And if he is, what then? Twenty minutes to help him escape, when it took us the better part of a day to get down here? And even if I do help him escape, what then? Treason, and Damien, and… this feeling.

Things are so much more confusing than they used to be. I miss how simple things were, but… I can’t go back. Not knowing what I know now, knowing how much danger we’re all in, knowing how little of the world I actually understand, but…

I love my life. And, I love my Damien, and…

How are you supposed to make the huge and beautiful and terrifying new world you’ve stumbled into… play nice with your home? With everything you love? I don’t… know. I hope… I have time to find the answer.

Saints, this is a long hallway. End of—

SOUND: DISTANT GASP.

What was that?!

ARUM (DISTANT): You?

MUSIC: ENDS.

DAMIEN (DISTANT): You… I can’t believe it’s really—

ARUM (DISTANT): (SIGHS) Of course it would be you. What an end to a truly catastrophic adventure. (SNORTS) I never should have left the Keep.

RILLA: That can’t be.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

DAMIEN (DISTANT): I thought you were dead. He told me, the monster; I thought you were… and I lived it, oh I lived it a thousand times in a second’s space! And how can this moment’s truth be but a droplet in that endless, churning sea I’ve drowned in—

ARUM (DISTANT): Oh, stop it. If you plan to kill me, you’ll get no sympathy. I’m sorry if that hurts your “feelings,” tktktktktktktktk.

DAMIEN (DISTANT): Kill you? But… I…

ARUM (DISTANT): Your knife is drawn, honeysuckle.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

I’m a monster, not an idiot.

SOUND: BANG.

RILLA: Damien, stop!

DAMIEN: Rilla! My– my Rilla, it’s you! You’re really here, you’re—

You’re the reason I must kill this lizard, of– of course. Oh Saint Damien above, take no more of your tranquility from me… if the sight of those violet eyes is enough for me to forget my purpose, what chance do I have?

RILLA: Please, Damien. Don’t hurt him. We… I… (SIGHS) It’s so complicated. It’s all just… really complicated right now.

ARUM: I’ll say.

Hello, Amaryllis. I take it you know this knight who threatens my life?

RILLA: I do. He’s… my fiancé. My family.

DAMIEN: And this devil is your kidnapper. I will slay him. Were you truly Rilla, you would know that. An illusion, of course, you must be, but- then is that possible? I would know you anywhere, but I must slay him, it is my duty to my Citadel and to my love, that is the way of the world, I must—

ARUM: Oh, hurry along, will you? I can’t stand another second of this performance!

RILLA: Arum, stop egging him on!

DAMIEN: Aaarum… you know the creature’s name.

RILLA: I do. Damien—

DAMIEN: You say it like a friend.

RILLA: Damien, please…

DAMIEN: No, not friend. Perhaps the long-sought music of your voice deceives me, but is that… do I not hear…?

Oh, Saint Damien above, what hells must I endure before you will forgive me? What have I done, what have I done…?

RILLA: Damien. I’m safe; it’s okay. You have nothing to worry about.

DAMIEN: HA! Nothing to worry about!

ARUM: Amaryllis, this is not helping—!

SOUND: SCHING.

RILLA: Damien, stop!

DAMIEN: I’ve drawn no blood.

I am tranquil at last, Rilla. I am thinking clearly.

RILLA: No, you aren’t. You’re a wreck, Damien. You look like you’ve barely slept; you need to breathe, and think. You need to put down that knife.

DAMIEN: I will not.

Yes, yes, I think clearly; I am tranquil, now. I can see the challenges that have been placed before me and I can see, too, how they have led me to this moment. I can see it all for what it truly is: illusion.

ARUM: Oh, please.

DAMIEN: Those violet eyes… their magic corrupts all. They make a knight stray from his course, make him question his divine purpose. Brew the sweetest venom in the chambers of his heart. And if they can affect the heart, the very seat of the soul, then why not twist my eyes, as well?

You’ve made me see things.

RILLA: See things like what, Damien?

DAMIEN: Those tapestries. Those are your illusions, aren’t they, lizard? Lies of humans and monsters living together, lying together. Deceptions all… and so is she. You’ve used her as an illusion against me before, why not now?

ARUM: It would take a lot more than shriekweed for an illusion that convincing, honeysuckle.

RILLA: Think about it, Damien. Think about if you have any proof.

DAMIEN: I am tranquil! I think clear enough, and speak only what I know to be true: the world has order. It has always made sense, and so it must make sense. And if your arrival came just as sense began to crumble? You, monster, must be the cause. And if that is true, then you must die!

RILLA: Damien? Don’t move. I’m coming over there.

DAMIEN: No, you are not.

Sit down, please. Whether you be human or illusion, please: sit. I think clearly; I am tranquil now, and in my tranquility I trust in the revealing power of truth to place all things in their proper order.

ARUM: Oh, spare me—

SOUND: SCHING.

(CHOKES)

RILLA: Damien!

DAMIEN: Now, I am tranquil. And in my tranquility I know what I must do.

(DEEP BREATH) I will fulfill my duty – and cut this lizard’s throat.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Leslie Drescher, Melissa Ennulat, Melissa DeJesus, and co-creator Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

MELISSA D: …ly like I get really anxious about, taking on new characters, who knew? Haha—

SOUNDS: GIGGLES.

LESLIE: Also why I think I’m—

MELISSA D: Yeah, one of the ways that I prep is I made myself a Spotify playlist of like—

SOPHIE: Oh my god—

MELISSA D: Y’know, get in the Quanyii headspace—

SOPHIE: Oh my—

MELISSA E: You must share this, and immediately.

SOPHIE: Yes, what is on it.

MELISSA D: Um, like a lot of of it is showtunes—

MELISSA E & SOPHIE: YAAAAAAS!

MELISSA E: My life!

SOPHIE: No it’s so good—

MELISSA D: I’m a huge Lea Salonga fan—

SOUND: GASP.

MELISSA E: YAAAAAS!

SOPHIE: Yaaaaaas!

MELISSA D: Also she’s Filipino, and I’m Filipino, and it’s like a big thing for me, emotionally—

SOPHIE: Oh she’s perfect.

MELISSA E: She’s amazing in every way…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Aurora Cyr, Demi Prince, Camille Blanton, Ota Arcana, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Hallowed Halls of Helicoid, was told by the following people: Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Leslie Drescher as Sir Caroline, Melissa De Jesus as Quanyii, Jason Mellin as Talfryn, M Sutherland as Sir Angelo, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, Glenn Moore as Judge Helicoid, Stuart Evan Smith as Porcus, Michael Underhill as Trotter, and Kate Jones as the Bailiff.

If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE HALLOWED HALLS OF HELICOID (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now approaching Fort Terminus.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Our next stop?

The Hallowed Halls of Helicoid.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: WATER DRIPS, ECHOING.

RILLA: Quanyii? Can I ask you a question?

QUANYII: Oh I so hope you will, Rilla.

RILLA: If magic is really, um—

QUANYII: My favorites are the ones I don’t feel like answering, because then I just lie! Or sometimes, I lie just because it’s fun. Do you ever do that, tall, dark, and cranky?

SIR CAROLINE: I don’t.

QUANYII: See? She’s doing it right now!

RILLA: Uh… okay. So, if magic is inconsistent, and unreliable… how could you just make the sun look like it was setting, or make this brace that helps me walk without—

QUANYII: Ughhh. Boo. It’s no fun at all when you ask me a good question. Fine, fine. It’s really very simple…

SOUND: RECORDER STARTS.

Oh!

RILLA: That’s good. Just speak clearly into the receiver.

QUANYII: Ohhh, what is this?

CAROLINE: Have mercy, they’re encouraging each other.

RILLA: It’s an audio recorder. I made it.

QUANYII: Ohhh, I adore it! And it’s so handy – usually I just put my voice in a rock when I want to remember something, but I always forget where I put it.

RILLA: You can just… do that?

CAROLINE: Ughhhhh.

QUANYII: Oh sweets, that’s nothing. Give me a few days and a part of your soul and I can teach you to put your voice in anything! (LAUGHS) That was a joke, obviously. The soul is useless. I’d probably ask for a toe.

RILLA: Just one? That’s not bad…

CAROLINE: Enough.

SOUND: RECORDER CLICKS OFF.

You have outstayed your welcome, witch. We have agreed to your terms. But you will not continue meddling in official Citadel affairs like this. Leave us.

MUSIC: ENDS.

QUANYII: Oh, she’s angry now. Do you think I should have asked for her toe instead?

CAROLINE: When I tell you to do something, witch, I mean now.

SOUND: SWORD UNSHEATHING.

QUANYII: Oh no, a sword. How pointy.

RILLA: Sir Caroline!

QUANYII: You’d really hurt me? Me? With the sword that I gave you, after the big, bad monsters stole yours?

CAROLINE: I am on the job. Technically, I would be justified.

QUANYII: Oh so we’re talking technicalities! Well if that’s the case, then technically, without me, you don’t have a sword. Pop!

SOUND: POOF, JINGLE.

All gone!

CAROLINE: Ughhhhh.

QUANYII: If you can’t handle one cursed sword, cutie, you’re not ready for this fortress. And definitely not ready to fly solo.

CAROLINE: I have broken out of many prisons before, and I am stronger than I was then. I can handle whatever these monsters have in store.

QUANYII: Breaking out? Breaking out is nothing compared to what we have to do next. We’re breaking in, then out.

CAROLINE: We don’t need you for this.

QUANYII: It’s not about need, babe; it’s about want.

SOUND: WOOD CREAKING.

Like how I don’t want you to get crushed by that wall trap you’re ignoring above your head.

CAROLINE: …What?

RILLA: Sir Caroline, look out!

QUANYII: And stop!

SOUND: CHIMES, CREAKING STOPS. CLOCK TICKING.

RILLA: You froze it in midair!

QUANYII: Stopped time around it, actually. It will continue on its course… in a second.

CAROLINE: Magic.

QUANYII: Okay babe, maybe step out of the way of the falling trap and then whine? Because this is starting to get exhausting.

RILLA: Sir… Caroline?

CAROLINE: Hmph.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

QUANYII: There… we’ve passed… through!

SOUND: BIG WOODEN CRASH. TICKING STOPS.

(BIG SIGH) And that, sweets, is how you make magic work for you. Magical spells, commands, etceteras, and so-ons only work if the universe feels like answering them. If I asked the universe to stop that pile of wood from crushing our sweet little knight, it might work once every hundred times. But, if I ask the universe to take this watch I worked on so very hard, and pretty pretty please, universe, can you just make it a time-stopping watch, just for me, just if I do enough so it’s basically already one anyway, then—

RILLA: Then the impossible, magical phenomenon isn’t stopping time… it’s making the thing that can stop time.

QUANYII: Very good. See? And you wanted to leave me behind. Whatever would you do without me?

RILLA: Thanks, Quanyii.

Sir Caroline?

CAROLINE: (SNORTS) Hrrraaaah!

SOUND: CRACK.

I would have been fine. Goodbye.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

QUANYII: Now what did that trap ever do to her?

RILLA: Excuse me just a second, Quanyii.

What is your problem? I thought you said you didn’t hate witches!

CAROLINE: I didn’t until today. She doesn’t belong here.

RILLA: So? She’s helping us, isn’t she?

CAROLINE: Only because she’s more likely to get what she’s after by helping us than not. But this is not the arrangement.

RILLA: What arrangement?

CAROLINE: It doesn’t matter for you. This will likely be the only day you ever see a real witch.

RILLA: Well, then… what does it matter? We need to help the Citadel, right? Maybe this witch is breaking the witch-rules, or whatever, but, that only affects her, right?

CAROLINE: (FRUSTRATED SIGH)

RILLA: Why can’t you just accept that we got lucky?

CAROLINE: Because this is my investigation, under my control. And I will not allow anyone to insinuate that the first investigation I earned was a success only because I got lucky.

RILLA: So you’d rather fail?

CAROLINE: I would not have failed. I would have solved it on my own. And now she has taken that from me.

RILLA: Okay, fine. She broke you out of the cell, you didn’t get to come up with a big plan, cool. But unless you want me to lock you in one of those cages myself, that’s over. So deal with it and do your job.

CAROLINE: (SIGHS) Fine. We will use the witch. But if you breathe a single word of this in the Citadel—

RILLA: Sure. Whatever.

CAROLINE: Good.

Witch!

QUANYII: (SHRIEKS)

RILLA: What?!

CAROLINE: Are you alright? Damn it, why wasn’t I watching her—

QUANYII: I’m fine! It’s my pocketwatch! Your mean little show making me work extra hard to save you from that falling trap put a crack in my pocketwatch, you beast! My poor baby! Shhh, it’s alright; we’ll get some crushed dragon-eye jelly on you in no time, little tick-tock.

RILLA: Wait… dragon’s eye? L-l-like from—

QUANYII: Dragons, silly! They exist just a little outside of time themselves, you know. That’s why there never seems to be one around when you need them; because they’ll be around some other time instead.

RILLA: So… you study monsters? Use their parts?

CAROLINE: Where do you think all those magical powers come from? Witches are scavengers. They take stronger creatures’ power because they can do nothing on their own.

QUANYII: I couldn’t say it better myself! Very smart of us, isn’t it? I know grumpy is impressed.

CAROLINE: I am not. It’s pathetic.

RILLA: Aren’t you here because you literally pushed Damien down a flight of stairs and stole his job?

CAROLINE: You, charmed one, probably haven’t noticed the disadvantages one starts out with in a field brimming with people who want to see you fail. I will do anything to level the playing field.

RILLA: So you think you’re better than me because you made it big in the boys’ club?

CAROLINE: I know I’m better than you, actually. The men have nothing to do with it.

RILLA: Despite the fact that my job is so dangerous, difficult, and illegal that nobody else will do it? That’s really where you’re putting your foot down, here?

QUANYII: Oh, are we measuring how hard our lives are? Should I take out my magic hardships yardstick?

CAROLINE & RILLA: (IN UNISON) Yes!

QUANYII: Well, I don’t have one, because that makes so little sense even magic won’t touch it. Instead of measuring your problems, why don’t we just agree that we all have it hard, and try to make things better for one another? Everyone deserves a little help. Everyone.

RILLA: That’s… not bad advice.

QUANYII: Yes, we all have problems, ladies. Look at me, for example. I have this little cough that just won’t go away. (FAKE-COUGHS) And on top of that, I’ve wanted the four thumbs of a reptilian familiar for nearly ten minutes now and I still don’t have them!

RILLA: His thumbs?!

CAROLINE: The lizard is mine. He must answer for his crimes.

QUANYII: And does he need his thumbs to answer for them? No? Good. See? We help each other and we all get what we want.

CAROLINE: Hm. That’s the first sense you’ve made all day, witch.

RILLA: No! You- you can’t!

CAROLINE: Excuse me, herbalist? Do you have something you’d like to say?

RILLA: Yo- you can’t hurt him! I- I have to talk to him!

QUANYII: Oh, that’s perfect! Then you can talk to him while I take off his thumbs, and then the knight can have his head. And if you decide you have more questions later, I’ll just put my hand in his skull and we’ll have a little chat! (LAUGHS)

RILLA: But—

CAROLINE: This argument is over. Her terms are fair enough for now. We can decide the rest when the lizard is dead.

RILLA: No, we actually can’t—

CAROLINE: And in the meantime, if he is as heavily-guarded as you say, witch, we should have a plan of attack before we press on. What can we expect from this fortress?

QUANYII: Ooh, just the biggest, spookiest, creepiest-crawliest monsters of all! Fort Terminus is the monsters’ last stronghold in the Northern Wilds, and that’s saying something. Monsters as individuals love to stake claim to a spot and stay there; but as a group, they can never agree on one place to defend together, let alone a building. I hear even their Senate never meets in the same place twice. So the fact that they work together to keep this place up should tell you how badly they need it.

RILLA: For what?

QUANYII: Things so horrible no monster wants to be near them. (LAUGHS) Oh, that was a face! Do it again, again!

CAROLINE: Then this is their point of exile.

QUANYII: It is. And the few times they’ve managed to work together to come up with a combined method of attack… it’s their armory. (WHISPERS) A warehouse of horrors.

RILLA: Few times? Like… they aren’t now? But aren’t we at war with them?

QUANYII: You are! So imagine how you’d do if they really unified!

RILLA: Saints…

QUANYII: Oh, don’t worry, sweets. They’ve only done it once in all of recorded history, and that was nearly three thousand years ago.

Though, of course, that one was so bad it wiped out most of recorded history before it.

RILLA: Three thousand years… the Fall of the First Citadel?

CAROLINE: That’s enough about the fort – one mission at a time. How are we approaching it?

QUANYII: Because the monsters fear it so, few know how Fort Terminus is operated from within. There are no guards assigned to it – that would defy their freedom – so I can only tell you about what the monsters know: the entrance. Fort Terminus has no front gate. Instead, its only entrances are through its cells, each of which have two sealed doors: one on our side and one leading into the fort itself.

CAROLINE: So the lizard’s sealed in on our side… and then whatever operates the fortress takes him in from the other side.

QUANYII: It takes some time, I hear, but yes. And that’s why we’re headed toward those cell blocks now.

CAROLINE: (CHUCKLES) So that’s your strategy? Entering through the front door?

QUANYII: I made it all by myself!

CAROLINE: Of all the inane, stupid—

QUANYII: And I will not be accepting criticism at this time.

CAROLINE: If you had consulted a strategist – like the one you’re speaking to right now – you would know that approaching an encampment from the front is a recipe for failure. If there is ever a way to approach from behind, you take it.

QUANYII: Oh, she likes it the other way in, does she? When’s our date, again?

CAROLINE: The other way– uh, opening– uh, hole! Augh! The other one! Yes, the other one is the only one that makes sense!

QUANYII: Oh, the other path, you mean, that’s fine. Well, we’ll just turn around and go that way.

CAROLINE: I think we should.

QUANYII: Right now?

CAROLINE: This instant.

QUANYII: And then we’ll just navigate this labyrinth backwards, wake up the gigantic snail-slime-beastie that so easily trapped you and sent you down here in the first place, kindly ask him to scoot over so we can access the hidden chamber that he’s sleeping on top of, and then, navigate a second and far more dangerous labyrinth, directly into the monsters’ high-security nightmare-fort, just so we can take the back door in to trim the gecko you’re after. Sounds fun, sweetie! Lead the way!

CAROLINE: (AFTER A PAUSE, GROWLS)

QUANYII: (LAUGHS) Oh, don’t be so grumpy. You wouldn’t want to take that other path anyways. Musty, smelly, covered in that nasty Judge’s slime… oh, and positively dripping with deadly boobytraps. Everywhere. Floors, walls, you name it. You’d have to be… (LAUGHING) You’d have to be a complete idiot to go in through there!

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

TALFRYN: (FADING IN, YELLING)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

JUDGE HELICOID: (FADING IN) Get back here! I say, get back!

SIR DAMIEN: Talfryn! Another spike wall, on your left!

SOUND: CLINK.

TALFRYN: Guhaaahaaaahh!!

SOUND: HEAVY CREAKING, SQUELCHES.

SIR ANGELO: Come now, Sir Damien. If you tell him about every obstacle, he’ll never learn!

DAMIEN: And if I don’t, he’ll never live, Sir Angelo, so– pit trap!

TALFRYN: Whoaaaaaaahhh!!

SOUND: STUMBLING FOOTSTEPS.

ANGELO: An excellent attempt, warrior-in-training! One pointer: most great jumpers lift off with their legs, not by spinning their arms in a circle—

DAMIEN: Pit!

TALFRYN: Again?! Gah!

SOUND: THUD.

Ooof!

ANGELO: Much improved! Now may I recommend landing with your feet instead of your face?

TALFRYN: You guys… you guys, I can’t run forever!

ANGELO: Think of it as training, Talfryn! A knight must have an open heart, and jogging does wonders for the valves!

TALFRYN: But—

JUDGE: If you don’t want to run, then don’t. Listen to your instincts, hem hem! (SNORTS, SPITS)

TALFRYN: Whoa!

ANGELO: Excellent work! Remember to stay hydrated, now!

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo, this really isn’t the time!

ANGELO: (GASPS) Not the time?! Sir Damien, there is always time for two things: hydration, and stretching! And he has that wonderful backpack canteen his brother made him, with the straws and… what is that called again, Talfryn?

TALFRYN: Backflask! Please!

ANGELO: Backflask! Ingenious invention. I’ve already ordered five of them myself.

TALFRYN: Please, guys! You gotta help me find a place to hide!

DAMIEN: A room! There’s open space just ahead, Talfryn. A perfect place for you to make your stand against this terrible snail!

JUDGE: Don’t you dare!

ANGELO: Excellent advice, my rival!

SOUND: CLANKS.

Stare the beast down, spear in hand—

SOUND: CREAK.

—and it will surely listen—

SOUND: CLANKS, THUD, CLANKS. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS & SQUELCHES STOP.

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) …Saints, man, did you just close the door on us?

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Open this door! Shellwrecker! Open it, I say! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR.

TALFRYN: I just gotta… find a place to hide until… (GROANS)

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Intolerable rudeness! To come into an honest universe-fearing snail’s home and invade his basement. And without even the simplest formal request!

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR.

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Hmmm! Sir Damien, did you hear that?

DAMIEN: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Do you mean the creaking of the wood, or perhaps the giant squelching beast of slime that threatens to kill us both unless someone does something about it, Talfryn!

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) No, no. Something the monster said gave me an idea.

DAMIEN: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Well, what is it? Quickly!

SOUND: BANGING STOPS.

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Yes, yes, I too would like to hear this plan.

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) It’s…

DAMIEN: (THROUGH THE DOOR) …Yes?

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) We’re waiting.

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Well that’s no good. I’m afraid I’ve let the dramatic pause go on too long and now I’ve forgotten.

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Alright. Back to it, then. Hmph! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR.

TALFRYN: Nowhere to hide! Just a bunch of tapestries and stone walls and rugs and chairs and… why does a snail need a chair?

Ahh! No time!

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) A basement! The gall! A snail’s basement and nothing more! (GRUNTS)

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) The idea! It happened again! When he said snail!

DAMIEN: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Don’t build it up, then, just say it!

TALFRYN: (STRAINING) This rock seems… loose!

SOUND: SCRAPING.

(GRUNTS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Stuck! No! Third lunch, why would you do this to me? I gotta leave my armor outside! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

ANGELO: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Snails fear salt! My satchel is still upstairs, and it is full of the finest salt, which you must throw on him, young Talfryn!

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) Now he wants me to run all the way back?

JUDGE: (THROUGH THE DOOR) No! No, I say, no! Not the salt! I, a land snail, cannot bear salt! Oh, you wouldn’t dare! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR. BIG CRACKS.

Ha! Nearly through!

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING, SCRAPE.

(MUFFLED GRUNT)

SOUND: MUFFLED BOOM, SPLINTERING. HEAVY CREAKS, SQUELCHES.

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) At last! Run for the salt, my… begads, where has my pupil gone?

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) And why is his armor in a pile on the floor?

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) Well, that’s simple enough, Sir Damien. Nudist combat must be a specialty of this family; we’ve seen as much from his brother—

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) It’s only his armor, Sir Angelo.

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) Oh! Then the answer is simple. I have no idea.

JUDGE: (MUFFLED) He can be as clothed or as nude as he likes; I say, as free or as contained; but please, gentlemen, he cannot use the salt! Aaanything but the saaaaalt!

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) Okay, salt. Maybe I can make it to the door while they distract the big snail… (DEEP BREATH) It’s just one monster. You can do this, Talfryn.

Sir. Talfryn.

JUDGE: (MUFFLED) Defensive measures must be taken! (GROWLS)

SOUND: BUBBLING.

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) Sir Damien!

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) It wasn’t me! The bubbles are just… appearing!

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) My friend, for such an impressive storyteller that excuse was shockingly unimpressive.

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) Sir Angelo, listen to me! The slime itself is boiling!

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) Oh my, it has become a bit warm, hasn’t it?

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) He’ll boil us alive, Talfryn! Slay him! It is your duty!

JUDGE: (MUFFLED, STRAINING) Not… boiling… just…

SOUND: SEVERAL WET POPS, BIG SIGH. BUBBLING STOPS.

…birthing. Now that’s better.

BAILIFFS: (MUFFLED, IN UNISON) Most Horrible Judge Helicoid! Tell us how we may serve!

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) Little soldiers of snail’s slime! They’re everywhere!

ANGELO: (MUFFLED) Hm, yes. Perhaps it is time to end our lesson for today, Talfryn! There are… rather a lot of monsters out here now, and we may have jumped from Basic Knighting to Extremely Advanced. Now, Sir Damien and I will free ourselves and slay these fiends! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: STRETCHING, SNAP.

Oh, dear. You weren’t pretending to be stuck, were you, Sir Damien?

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED) No. No, Sir Angelo, I was not.

JUDGE: (MUFFLED, BIG LAUGH)

TALFRYN: (WHIMPERS)

JUDGE: (MUFFLED) Now, Bailiffs. Your instructions are quite clear: we guard the entrance to Fort Terminus, and no humans are to pass the doors of our court without our capture. Is that understood?

BAILIFFS: (MUFFLED, IN UNISON) Yes, your Horror!

JUDGE: (MUFFLED) You two will stand guard by the entrance. And the rest of you: search this room! Every crook and crevice! I want that human found immediately, this moment, at once! Hem hem!

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, CAVE AMBIANCE.

QUANYII: (WHISPERING) And… stop.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

This is just about the place, ladies. Ohhh, who’s excited? I’m excited! It’s supposed to be so very dangerous!

RILLA: (QUIETLY) What kind of security measures do they have?

QUANYII: (QUIETLY) A guard, for one thing.

CAROLINE: And?

QUANYII: (QUIETLY) A second guard. (NORMAL VOLUME) And that’s it! But they’re really very powerful, I hear.

TROTTER: (DISTANT SQUEAL)

PORCUS: (DISTANT) Ha! How’s that for master prankster, ya stupid—

TROTTER: (DISTANT SQUEAL)

SOUND: THUD.

Wipeout, dude!

PORCUS: (DISTANT) Loser! You big… dumb…! (SQUEALS)

TROTTER: (DISTANT) Hey, man, you started it. Just give me back my nosh!

PORCUS: (DISTANT) Get lost!

TROTTER: (DISTANT) Give me the bones!

CAROLINE: This is your high-security prison cell? Two pigs fighting over scraps? (LAUGHS)

PORCUS: (DISTANT) Fine! Take ‘em!

SOUND: CLATTERING.

You stand guard here. I’m gonna wait around the corner.

TROTTER: (DISTANT) Suit yourself, brah. (CHEWING, CRUNCHING)

PORCUS: (QUIETLY) Moron. He didn’t even count them.

CAROLINE: If it’s just a few monsters that need slaying, I can finish this in seconds. So. Witch. Can you stop those pigs in time, like that trap in the hall?

QUANYII: They’re much bigger, sweetie. I might be able to manage one.

CAROLINE: One’s enough. Herbalist?

RILLA: I’d be able to do a lot more if you’d give me back the compounds you confiscated.

CAROLINE: Mmm, yes. Then that’s a dead end. I threw your weeds away when my bag began to stink.

RILLA: You threw away all my…! (GROANS)

CAROLINE: But, you can sing, can’t you? Do that.

RILLA: Why would I sing?!

CAROLINE: I’ve been advised to use my subordinates’ strengths when strategizing. If it works, wonderful. If not, you can tell the Queen she’s wrong later. And that’s beautiful in its own way.

RILLA: Sir Caroline—!

CAROLINE: It doesn’t matter what you do, because I will be doing the actual work here. Just distract it for one second and it will be dead the second after that. Do you think you can do that, herbalist?

RILLA: (SIGHS) Fine. But I’m not gonna sing.

QUANYII: Booooring.

CAROLINE: Witch: freeze the wide one. I’ll sneak up where the unsettlingly muscular one can’t see me and behead his frozen comrade. Then, herbalist, you will distract the musclebound one, and when he sees you I’ll behead him, too. It should be over in seconds. Now: places.

RILLA: But I—

CAROLINE: You will follow my orders or this will fail. Remember the courtroom? Now: places.

RILLA: Fine.

QUANYII: Someone’s cranky.

CAROLINE: Freeze the pig.

QUANYII: But still, babe, you’re being a little harsh to—

CAROLINE: Just do it!

QUANYII: (SIGHS) Alright.

SOUND: CHIMES, CLOCK TICKING.

PORCUS: (VOICE SLOWS TO A STOP) What? Trotter, did you hear…

QUANYII: You only have a second. Go!

CAROLINE: I know that. Stop holding my hand.

QUANYII: I’m only worried about—

CAROLINE: I meant literally!

QUANYII: Oh, oh, right, there you go.

CAROLINE: Good.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

And… ha!

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

QUANYII: (EXHALES)

SOUND: TICKING STOPS.

CAROLINE: A clean cut. And, ugh… softer than I expected.

TROTTER: Porcus? Did you say somethin’?

CAROLINE: Come on, herbalist…

RILLA: H-hey! Hey, you!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

TROTTER: Whoa, dude, your voice got really different! All high and nice and stuff!

RILLA: No, look over here! Over here!

TROTTER: Whooaaaa, huh huh, I am trippin’ on these bones, man; you sound like you’re behind me or something! (SQUEAK-LAUGHS)

RILLA: (SINGING) Hey, I’m a human and I’m over here!

QUANYII: (QUIETLY) Oooh, she is good!

TROTTER: Huh?

Candy-canes! Whoa-hoa-hoa-hoa! What are you doin’? (CHUCKLES)

We just locked you up, didn’t we?

RILLA: Uh… yeah.

SOUND: DISTANT FOOTSTEPS.

TROTTER: Gnarly, candy-canes. ‘Cause there’s really only one option from here.

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

RILLA: Sir Caroline, any second now!

CAROLINE: Now.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

(BIG GRUNT)

TROTTER: Whuh—

SOUND: SLASH, SQUISH, WET THUD.

RILLA: Saints, they’re really just… bags full of blood, aren’t they?

CAROLINE: They were, until they met my blade—

QUANYII: Caroline, the pig!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

PORCUS: (BIG SQUEAL)

SOUND: HEAVY BOOM.

CAROLINE: Ahhh!

PORCUS: You’re pretty quick, ain’tcha?

CAROLINE: You…?! I cut your head off!

PORCUS: Yeah, and. What’re you gonna do about it?

CAROLINE: Cut it off again, obviously.

PORCUS: Wha—

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

CAROLINE: There. He’s dead this time, yes? We can all agree that the pig is dead?

SOUND: BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

QUANYII: Well, he definitely was dead.

RILLA: But… but he’s…

PORCUS: Back in business, candy-legs. Trotter, now!

TROTTER: (SQUEALS)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

RILLA: Whoa!

SOUND: CLANG.

TROTTER: Dang, candy-canes, you can really hustle—

CAROLINE: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

PORCUS: Whoa!

SOUND: CLANG. BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

TROTTER: Man… (CHUCKLES) …that always feels cool.

PORCUS: A little help, Trotter! (SQUEALS)

SOUND: CLANG.

TROTTER: Ughhh, just a second, dude, just a second.

CAROLINE: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

TROTTER: I’m comin’!

SOUND: BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS. CLANGS, GRUNTS.

RILLA: Saints, she’s… taking turns dueling both of them?!

SOUND: DISTANT WHOOSH, POP. THUDS.

QUANYII: Fun to watch, but not very useful. (CALLING) Cutie, unless you’re going for a personal best on most times you’ve killed the same pig, I don’t think this is getting you anywhere!

CAROLINE: Well I don’t see you helping! Can’t you throw lightning-bolts or something?

QUANYII: Lightning bolts! What do you take me for, some cheap little sorcerer?

CAROLINE: Yes, actually! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

QUANYII: Ooooh, that’s so sweet! But I don’t do lightning, babe. It makes my hair all frizzy.

SOUND: DISTANT WHOOSH, POP. THUDS.

CAROLINE: Well, do something, you—! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: CLANGS.

PORCUS: This ain’t workin’, Trotter! We’re gonna have to take her on together!

TROTTER: But, uh… I mean, what if she, y’know…

PORCUS: Don’t be a moron! It ain’t like she can fight both of—

CAROLINE: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP. BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

PORCUS: Nyeeaah! I said, it ain’t like she can—

CAROLINE: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP. BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

PORCUS: (SIGHS) I said—!

CAROLINE: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP. BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

TROTTER: I think I get it, dude.

PORCUS: Ugh, good! Now get her!

TROTTER: Okay…

SOUND: CLANGS, GRUNTS & SQUEALS.

RILLA: He sounded… scared.

QUANYII: Wouldn’t you be? She’s a force of nature with that blade, isn’t she?

RILLA: No, I mean if they keep coming back to life, why would they be afraid of teaming up against her?

That’s it. (CALLING) Sir Caroline! They’re magically bound! I think they’ll only stay dead if you kill them both at the same time!

TROTTER: See, bro? This is what I was tryin’ to—

PORCUS: I told you to shut up! (SQUEAL)

SOUND: GRUNTS, SQUISH, HEAVY CLANG.

PORCUS: Wuh-oh.

CAROLINE: Thanks for the help, pig. Now let’s test her theory! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: STAB.

PORCUS: (GASPS)

(PAINED) Alright. Alright, knight, ya got us.

CAROLINE: I know.

PORCUS: (PAINED, GASPING) Ya beat us, fair and square. Damn, you’re good. Hoo-ee!

CAROLINE: I know that, too.

PORCUS: (PAINED) Please… just… one more thing, lady… now that ya got me. Somethin’… super important… about this fortress… (GASPS)

CAROLINE: Your words. Then your head.

SOUND: SHINK.

PORCUS: (PAINED) I just… gotta tell ya… that…

SOUND: DISTANT WHOOSH, POP. THUDS.

Every one’a you losers likes to gloat over your wins, don’tcha? (GASPING CHUCKLE)

CAROLINE: Why, you…! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLASH, WET POP.

(PANTING) Damn, he was stalling! Herbalist, look—

TROTTER: (SQUEALING LAUGH)

SOUND: GRUNTS, RUSTLING.

RILLA: Let me go!

QUANYII: Oh, his sweat smells like barbecue! Get him off, get him off!

TROTTER: I’ve got both of your human buddies, dude! Let Porcus through or I give ‘em both the kibosh!

SOUND: BIG WHOOSH, PIG SQUEAL, POP. THUDS.

PORCUS: (GRUNTS) Good goin’, Trotter! Now kill ‘em and let’s get outta— (YELPS, CHOKING)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

CAROLINE: Give them both if you want your friend to leave here.

TROTTER: Haw! You blind, brah? You can kill him as many times as you want.

CAROLINE: But we heard you in court. The herbalist said it herself—you’re magically bound. If he doesn’t leave here, dead or alive, neither do you. And I may not be able to kill you, but I can certainly make you wish I could.

PORCUS: (CHOKING) She’s got a pretty good point there, Trotter!

CAROLINE: Give them here and you both leave.

TROTTER: (SIGHS) I’ll toss you one now. But, you don’t get the other ‘til Porcus and me split.

CAROLINE: Fine.

RILLA: What?!

QUANYII: Oh, babe, I knew I could count on you! Just say the word and—

CAROLINE: The herbalist – the one you call “candy-canes.” Give her here.

QUANYII: You beast! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!

TROTTER: Bummer. I’ll miss ya, candy-canes.

RILLA: Ahh– oof!

CAROLINE: And here’s yours.

PORCUS: (SQUEALS)

QUANYII: How dare you! You take that back! You take me back! You’re heartless, heartless, HEARTLESS! (SOBBING)

PORCUS: Just… shut up and go, Trotter! Take the witch with you!

TROTTER: Obviously, dude! Smell ya later, humans! CAROLINE: What’s that? No ‘thank you’? Nothing?

RILLA: (PANTING) That… was so stupid!

CAROLINE: Of course.

RILLA: Why did you pick me? Quanyii could’ve helped you more! She could’ve stopped time, or put them to sleep, or something! You could have killed both of them!

CAROLINE: That is very possible, Rilla. But slaying monsters is only the second of a knight’s priorities.

RILLA: What?

CAROLINE: Instead of taking two irreplaceable trophies, I have chosen to protect you, a citizen of the Second Citadel. I will never forgive you for it. But it is my duty, and a good knight is bound to her duty.

QUANYII: Duty! I’ll show you duty, you fairweather knight!

TROTTER: Aw man, dude, listen to her! She’s so heated!

PORCUS: Just move it, already!

QUANYII: Deal-breaker! Ice queen! Frost-fraud!

SOUND: SIZZLING.

TROTTER: She’s– o-ow. She’s like… really heated, actually. Ow– ow, ow!

CAROLINE: And also, I knew the witch could take care of herself.

PORCUS: Trotter, what the hell is it now?

TROTTER: Hot, brah! She’s hot! Hot! Yeeeeowww!!

SOUND: SIZZLING FADES.

RILLA: So, you didn’t learn anything? This was still just part of your plan?

CAROLINE: Oh, well, now you’re both whining. Isn’t being in charge a treat?

QUANYII: Nobody likes a cop, babe. Thanks for the reminder. And those dates you begged me to go on? Cancelled.

CAROLINE: There are no dates.

QUANYII: Cancelled!

TROTTER: Let’s get outta here, man! Forget the Senate!

PORCUS: Right behind ya!

CAROLINE: Enjoy it while you can, pigs! Your heads are mine!

TROTTER: Over our dead bodies, dude!

PORCUS & TROTTER: (SQUEALING LAUGHTER)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

CAROLINE: Yes! That is very literally what that would entail! You stupid…! (GROWLS)

SOUND: CLANG.

RILLA: Whoa!

CAROLINE: (PANTING) Thank you.

RILLA: But… you saved my life.

MUSIC: STARTS.

CAROLINE: I’m going to make something absolutely clear: you will have questions about what I say next. I will not answer them.

RILLA: Uh, okay?

CAROLINE: I’ve lived a lot of lives before this one… Rilla. And when you reinvent yourself, or when you’re forced to reinvent yourself, well it’s… (SIGHS)

RILLA: Like the old versions of you keep bleeding into the new one. It gets hard to draw boundaries and figure out the new rules. I know.

CAROLINE: That’s… yes. Precisely. (CLEARS THROAT) I like my life as a knight much better than any other I’ve had yet. I’d like to keep it. So thank you for reminding me how to do that.

Well?

RILLA: Well what?

CAROLINE: I said you’d have questions.

RILLA: No, it’s cool.

CAROLINE: Well I told you, I won’t answ- what?

RILLA: You’re a knight now. And you’re even a good one. So… I don’t care what you used to be.

CAROLINE: Good.

Thank you, Rilla.

RILLA: Thank you, Sir Caroline.

QUANYII: And thank me, Quanyii—

CAROLINE: Quiet.

QUANYII: Hmph.

CAROLINE: That’s a good girl.

(DEEP BREATH) Now, let’s get you two patched up, and then we’ll find our lizard.

MUSIC & SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast.

You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Aurora Cyr, Demi Prince, Camille Blanton, Ota Arcana, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Hallowed Halls of Helicoid, was told by the following people: Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Leslie Drescher as Sir Caroline, Melissa De Jesus as Quanyii, Jason Mellin as Talfryn, M Sutherland as Sir Angelo, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, Glenn Moore as Judge Helicoid, Stuart Evan Smith as Porcus, Michael Underhill as Trotter, and Kate Jones as the Bailiff.

If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE MAN OF THE FUTURE (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through Newtown.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Juno Steel and the Man of the Future.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: WIND BLOWING, KEYBOARD CLICKS.

MICK: (FADING IN, THROUGH THE DOOR) …Jay, Rita! Come on, you two gotta be freezing out there. Wind gets nuts on the fourteenth floor!

JUNO: Is it done yet, Rita?

RITA: You’ve asked me that like a billion times, Mista Steel. I’ll tell you when it’s done.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Listen guys, I don’t even remember how we got here really, but this is startin’ to move on over from ‘prank I don’t really get’ to ‘pretty rude thing to do to your host.’

JUNO: I thought you said it was easy to hack these things. You got through the Theia back in O’Flaherty’s office in fifteen minutes.

RITA: Well, it’s harder than that, alright! It’s all… (GROWLS) Tha– tho-those things back there were real basic puppets, but this thing… this thing, it’s like…

JUNO: It’s like what?

RITA: I don’t know! It just keeps adaptin’ or somethin’, like… like… I just gotta focus, alright? I ain’t never done anything like this before.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I mean it feels rude, anyway. But maybe that’s me. I mean I guess it’s not like I’ve even had a place to host people very long, so I haven’t exactly picked up the rules yet. Hey, Jayjay—

JUNO: You shut up! Just… please. Shut up.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It had been that way for hours. Rita and I, standing out on the fourteenth floor Newtown balcony, listening to that jabber at us. Nothin’ to distract me except the cold bite of wind, the long way to the ground, and Newtown. Beautiful blue and silver and pink Newtown, tall and strong and completely unrecognizable.

My name’s Juno Steel. I… grew up here, and I did most of that growing up next to my best friend in the world: Mick Mercury.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Wait, did I break some kind of host rule? Was I supposed to serve some food or, like, prep a skit or something? Ah whew, this hosting thing is a lot harder than it looks…

JUNO (NARRATOR): And I don’t know what that thing is in there, moving Mick’s limbs, using Mick’s voice, but it’s not Mick Mercury.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) You guys want a pizza? I could run out and grab one. There’s this great spot next block over with an amazing squid-ink crust and some spicy synthsausage; ah man, Jay, it’s just like some of the ‘za we stuffed ourselves with when we were kids, except when you’re done you don’t barf all over my dad’s—

JUNO: I can’t do this, Rita; i-if I have to listen to him for two more minutes, I swear—

RITA: This is gonna take as long as it’s gonna take, boss. Whadda you want from me?

JUNO: Let’s just…

Let’s just rip the goddamn chip off him, already!

RITA: Mista Steel, we can’t do that—

JUNO: What, ‘cause he’s strong? Listen, it’s easy. I’ll just get him with the stun a few more times—

RITA: Boss!

JUNO: —then wait for the chip to start his heart again, and then rip it off. Skin grafts cost nothing these days, plus I’ve got ten stamps on my Quik-Med card, and the eleventh treatment’s free—

RITA: I ain’t worried about his skin. We can’t just pull the Theia Soul off’a him.

MUSIC: ENDS.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) She’s, uh, actually right about that, Jay.

JUNO: Why the hell not?

RITA: It’s just like your old cyber-eye, boss. That chip’s worked into Mista Mercury’s brain, now. It ain’t doin’ it as fast or deep as the eye, but… it’s still in there. An’ if we just rip it off, it’d be like rippin’ off part of his brain. We’d scramble him.

JUNO: Oh, what the hell, he’s scrambled already! Who cares?

RITA: Mista Steel!

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) No, Rita, I actually think Jayjay’s onto something.

JUNO: Did I ask?!

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Without the Theia Soul my life was pretty scrambled. It’s not worth tryin’ to pretend it wasn’t. I couldn’t hold a job. Couldn’t take care of myself.

JUNO: You shut up, Theia… whatever-you-are! Nobody talks about Mick that way.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Except… you? You talk about me that way all the time, Juno. Talked, I guess. (CHUCKLES) The Theia just helps, is all. Gives you more control over your life. And hey, I mean, are you really gonna stand there and tell me that Mick Mercury didn’t need a little more structure in his life?

JUNO: Don’t talk about him! I know Mick! You aren’t Mick.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Then who is? All the Theia Soul does is take control when I get out of control. Grab the wheel when I’m about to run myself into a ditch, metaphorically speaking. E-except when it’s literally speaking; like yesterday, I got distracted by all the pizza I’d just dropped on my lap while I was driving and—

JUNO: You tried to jump us. You call that under control?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) (SIGHS) You’re just… I dunno, you just always talk circles around me. I figured you’d talk me into a bad spot again, or—

JUNO: A bad spot! Me? After all the times I’ve scraped you off the sidewalk, Mercury, you’re really gonna stand there and tell me that you were worried I was gonna put you in a bad spot?

RITA: (QUIETLY) Mista Steel.

JUNO: What?!

RITA: (QUIETLY) I’m almost done, okay? It’s almost done.

JUNO: (BREATHING HEAVILY) Right. Right, almost done.

Thanks, Rita.

RITA: No problem, boss.

JUNO: (AFTER A PAUSE) Fine. Gloat all you want. Use his voice to torture me just like you used my brain, but we’re gonna beat you, you little metal nightmare, and when we do you’re—

RITA: Mista Steel… where’d he go?

JUNO: I don’t know.

SOUND: GLASS SHATTERING.

RITA: Mista Steel! What was that, what was that?!

SOUND: CREAKS/CLUNKS.

JUNO: Just sit still, alright? I’m tryin’ to figure that out…

Get inside.

RITA: Well do I stay still or do I get inside, boss, ‘cause this is real confusing—

JUNO: Now!

MICK: (CALLING) For your own safety, please do not move.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I knew what the Theia could do. I’d lived through what the Theia could do, but this thing…

(SIGHS) It was coming from above, climbing straight down the wall like a spider, its limbs – Mick’s arms and legs, I mean – they were moving so fast they looked sped-up, their motions were quick, efficient, unreal. I reached for my gun but I knew I couldn’t use it. Mick’s odds of falling onto the balcony were low, and for all my big talk I couldn’t stun him again, I couldn’t… hurt him that way even if the chip was gonna restart his heart.

So Rita and I started pulling apart our barricade.

SOUND: HEAVY SCRAPING, CREAKS.

RITA: He’s comin’ down real fast, boss!

JUNO: Throw the chairs off the balcony if you have to. Just move!

MICK: Hey, c’mon, buddy, you’re really gonna trash my new place?

RITA: That’s the last one!

SOUND: METAL JINGLING, DOOR OPENS.

MICK: (GROWLS)

JUNO: Come on!

RITA: Ah!

SOUND: THUDS, GRUNTS.

Lock it, boss, lock it!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: There!

SOUND: METAL JINGLING.

Step back. We don’t know what it’s gonna try next.

JUNO & RITA: (PANTING)

RITA: (AFTER A PAUSE) He, uh… he… doesn’t look like he’s tryin’ to do anything besides sittin’ there.

JUNO: It doesn’t, does it.

RITA: Well… you were right, Mista Steel: I didn’t know that’s what he was gonna try next.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I’m not going to try anything. We’re just having a conversation.

JUNO: You call that a conversation?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) It was one. Then Rita convinced you it wasn’t worth talking to me. That you should just wait until she was done. And if you aren’t willing to talk, Juno, why should I bother?

JUNO: And, so long as you don’t want to bother, you’ll keep going after us. (GROWLS)

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

RITA: (WHISPERING) Just a few more minutes, boss.

JUNO: (MUTTERING) Fine. (LOUDER) Fine, Mick. Let’s talk.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Hey, that’s great to hear, Jayjay! Just open on up and I’ll—

JUNO: Through the window.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Sure, we can start this way. Hey, while we’re talking, do you wanna know why I don’t just punch straight through this glass here and grab you two right now? ‘Cause, I think you know I could.

RITA: (WHIMPERS)

JUNO: Sure, Mercury. Why don’t you break down your own door and attack us?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) ‘Cause that would be dangerous. Eh? Eh? See what I’m talkin’ about? Same idea as the pizza-on-the-lap-while-I-was-driving thing. Just ‘cause you can do something doesn’t always mean you should, y’know?

JUNO: And the Theia keeps you from doing things it thinks you shouldn’t. Like any good dictator.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) No, no no no, c’mon buddy, it’s not like that. It’s all about protecting you from things you might regret later. Like… I’m gonna get hungry while driving sometimes, and it’s not like I deserve death or a neck-brace or whatever just ‘cause I got hungry while I was driving, right? Too harsh. So the Theia protects me from my bad choices. Easy. Doesn’t protect you from everything yet, but it’s pretty good. That pizza was real, real hot. I’ve got this big burn right on my… actually, maybe you could look at it.

JUNO: But divebombing us on your rickety balcony is safe.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I knew we were safe because I know this town. I know how everything was built, and I know what it can take. See? Soul makes me smarter, too.

JUNO: There are a lot of different types of smart, Mick. You had some of ‘em in spades.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) (LAUGHS) Yeah. Yeah, well, maybe that’s true. I don’t know. But even smart people make mistakes. Like riding a busted-up old hovercycle. Could’a killed me!

JUNO: You loved that bike, Mick.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Sure, but do you know what the fatality rates on those things are? I was a dead man on two wheels, Jay! And a hovercycle’s supposed to have three!

JUNO: You knew that. You knew the risks, and you could have stopped riding your hovercycle anytime you wanted to.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Could I? You really think that?

‘Any time you wanted to’ is the problem, I think. Is wanting to a good enough reason to do something, Jay? ‘Cause, I didn’t really want to stop drinking either.

JUNO: What?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) You asked me where the booze in my apartment was? And you were right: I do like a drink. But there’s a line between a hobby and can’t stop, y’know? And I’m just saying…

Uhh, let’s… not talk about it, actually.

JUNO: I… I-I didn’t know. God, Mercury, I swear, if I knew—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) All the Soul does is take over when I can’t do it anymore—that’s it! And you know how hard it is to quit things that are bad for you, or do ‘em less, or anything like that. You pull and pull and pull away from whatever you want as hard as you can for so, so long… and then you have one moment of weakness. Just one! And then the want gets so big or just… you feel so low that the cycle starts again, and you’re back to square one. Can’t stop those weak moments from happening, right? They’re inevitable. And if they’re inevitable… can you really say they’re your fault when they happen? Really?

JUNO: …No.

No, I guess not.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) That’s all the Soul does, Jay. Takes over when I have a weak moment. You tryin’ to say that isn’t good?

JUNO: No…

No, of course that’s good. It’s… it’s amazing, Mercury.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) It is. It’s really amazing. And Jay, I… think… I think a Soul could really help you, too.

JUNO: What?

RITA: Mista Steel, I don’t think you should—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Hey, you too, Rita. We’re just talking, right? Talking never hurt anybody. Right, Jayjay?

JUNO: Sure. Just talkin’.

RITA: (MUTTERING) Or else.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) What was that?

RITA: Nothin’.

JUNO: …No. No, hell no. I’m sorry you had problems I didn’t know about, Mercury, but… I don’t need that goddamn thing, alright? I’m clean. I have a drink every now and again and again, but I… can handle it. And I’m not putting any of that garbage in my body that I used to; I kicked it on my own.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) You did! And that’s super awesome, Jay, that’s amazing, and you know I’m proud of you. But… are you sure that means you’ve kicked it forever?

JUNO: I… I…

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) One weak day. That’s all I’m saying, Jay. Your punishment for one weak day could be to lose fifteen years of progress. You could go back to feeling how you did after you were booted out of the HCPD. You might feel fine now, but—

RITA: He wouldn’t! You don’t have to listen to him, Mista Steel, you’re better than that now in a million ways, and I wouldn’t letcha anyway, and—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) You know how quickly “fine” changes. And you know how quickly the people you rely on start disappearing when you hit that point. Diamond—

RITA: Mista Mercury!

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Even Sasha, kinda. And your old partner on the force, what was their name…?

JUNO: Puck.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Puck Falco, that’s right. Where are they now?

JUNO: I don’t know. We… fell out of touch.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Heard that one before, am I right?

RITA: Mista Steel, this is all wrong! Diamond was gone before you left the HCPD and Detective Falco just transferred to another planet and—

JUNO: Rita… stop.

RITA: But Mista Steel, this ain’t just about—

JUNO: I’m tryin’ to think, alright? Would you stop?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) It’s a lot to think about—

JUNO: You too, just… shut up, both of you, alright?

This isn’t what I thought this would be. What the hell is this, goddammit Ramses, goddamn City of the Future, what the hell…!

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) You gotta admit, O’Flaherty makes a few good points. Heart’s in the right place, too. He cares. A lot.

JUNO: Sometimes I feel like that’s his problem, Mick. Sometimes I feel like this whole goddamn horror show is just what happens when somebody who wants to make things better finally gets the power to do it, and if that’s true what the hell are we trying for, and now I—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Shhhh, shh-shh-shhhh, come on, buddy, it’s alright. It’s pretty simple, when you break it down.

What’s up, Rita? Got somethin’ to say?

RITA: (GROWLS)

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Hey, alright. You do you. And you, Jay… I’m just sayin’ that you should be able to hang onto how well you’re doin’, now that you earned it. You shouldn’t lose it ‘cause of a few bad choices at the end of a bad day. And you shouldn’t lose the people who are keeping you feelin’ so well in the first place.

JUNO: Keeping me well? What does that mean?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) (CHUCKLES) Come on, you don’t think you made this much progress on your own, do you?

JUNO: No. I’ve finally figured that out, anyway.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) And so without those people…

Eh. Probably shouldn’t dwell on it, right? Better to just make sure it never happens. Never another big blow-up where you push somebody away. Never another bender. Never! And with a Theia Soul… you could rest easy. You could know you were never gonna hit the self-destruct button on your own life, y’know?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Never destroy my own life. Seal it up and know that it’s safe. Forget the daily struggle of bein’ healthy or halfway decent and just… let the Soul carry you through it.

The thought made me feel sick. But Mercury, Ramses, those smiling people outside, they all seemed so goddamn certain. And when I looked into myself, and I saw that most of all I was just scared – scared of what the Theia Spectrum made me do, scared of everything I had to do to get rid of it, and… just plain scared – I felt… old.

Railing against a future people needed. Because isn’t that always how one era looks at the next? With fear that the life they learned to live is gone, whether or not the new life rumbling in the horizon is better?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) …Juno?

JUNO: Rita…

Rita… stop.

RITA: I can talk in just a sec, boss. I found a way in and I’m almost done.

JUNO: No, I mean… stop trying to disconnect the Theia. It’s over. We’re done here.

SOUND: TYPING STOPS.

RITA: What? But… but, Mista Mercury—

JUNO: Isn’t who we’re lookin’ for.

(SIGHS) What are we gonna do, Rita? Bring Ramses a functional adult and tell him he’s too functional now?

RITA: But you said this ain’t like him—

JUNO: This is better, Rita. He likes it. He’s happy, and safe. What the hell else matters?

RITA: But—

JUNO: Just delete everything you’ve been working on, please, before I change my mind.

RITA: Oh. …Oh.

O-okay… um…

SOUND: BEEP.

JUNO: Mick, buddy… I just don’t get it. Everyone here’s been talkin’ circles around me and I can’t come up with a single coherent thing to say, which… must mean I’m wrong, I guess.

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON, THROUGH THE DOOR) So what are you going to do about it?

JUNO: I don’t… I can’t put one of those things on me. Not yet. I need to think about it some more.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Second-guessing the choice you know is right just lets you make bad decisions, Jayjay. We both know that.

JUNO: I know. I just feel… hopeless. (SIGHS)

Back in the day you always had somethin’ for me when I felt hopeless, Mick. A story or somethin’, and… boy, I need one, ‘cause right now I can’t tell where we’re heading, or, where we’re supposed to be. I’m lost, Mick. I’m so goddamn lost.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Those old stories? About perfect cities and resort planets we’d all move to when we grew up and that kinda thing? I can’t, Jay. I’m sorry, but they’re too…

JUNO: …Dangerous?

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Yeah. Kinda. All they’d do is make us want something that’s not good for us. So, what’s the point of imagining somewhere else when this is the most we could ask for, y’know?

JUNO: Don’t need to tell stories. Don’t need booze and don’t need your bike. Hell, maybe you’re right. Maybe… they’re all just dangerous, and maybe, wanting them’s the real problem.

But I’m still gonna think about it before I get one of those… things on me.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Juno—

JUNO: I have to. Alright?

Rita, let’s go.

RITA: Sure thing, boss. But– what if he– y’know, jumps at us while we’re leavin’?

JUNO: We’d hear the glass door shatter. I’ll keep the blaster ready just in case, and… I don’t think he will.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Scout’s honor, buddy!

RITA: (WHIMPERS)

SOUND: KEYBOARD CLICKING.

JUNO: Rita… what are you doing on your comms?

RITA: Uhhhhhhh… nothin’.

JUNO: Rita.

RITA: Boss!

JUNO: No. We’re not playing this game, alright?

RITA: This ain’t a game! I’m tryin’a tell you—

JUNO: I asked you to delete—

RITA: Mista Mercury’s gone!

JUNO: He’s… what?

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was nobody on the balcony. I’d looked away for barely a second… just to see Rita’s comms, and then… there was nobody on the balcony.

RITA: B-boss… where d’you think—

SOUND: GLASS SHATTERS, YELP, GRUNTS. THUDS, RUSTLING.

Mista Steel!!

JUNO (NARRATOR): He came flying through the door like he’d been thrown through it; but, when his shoulder hit my chest he twisted in midair and wrapped his arms and legs around me, his whole body a grasping claw on a huge, invisible arm. I felt the Soul in his hands, its teeth were scratching down my arm, and, I knew I’d been one twitch away from the thing latching on to me.

Then he was on top of me, and I was on the ground, and before I knew what was happening Mick’s hand was a foot from my face, holding that little chip so close I thought I saw it squirm. Both my hands were around his wrist, holding him back, but, I was losing ground quickly.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) You know this is the right choice. Don’t let yourself make another mistake. Give up control.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I knew he was stronger than me. I knew I couldn’t keep this up. But, whenever I tried to think of some way out of it I just got stuck, over and over again, on trying to make the day’s pieces stick together. How fast he’d moved, up the outside wall, and through a window, and down the stairs to us. How together he seemed. How good his offer sounded: to just let go, give your ability to ruin your own life away to somebody else and never worry about whether you can take care of yourself again.

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Give up. I do not want to hurt you, user Juno Steel. Give up control to the Theia Soul.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Years ago, Jack Takano said, that even once we discover our home, the place humanity can really be happiest, we probably wouldn’t recognize it. And if you want to know the truth, that’s what I couldn’t get out of my head – the thought that maybe this blank-faced thing on top of me was the best way forward. And if never making another mistake again scared me… maybe that was something wrong with me.

I couldn’t hold it at bay. And that chip in its fingers was coming closer and closer.

And in the end… I lost.

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Give up! (GRUNTS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): But that doesn’t mean the Theia won.

RITA: There!

SOUND: BEEP. POP, STATIC. ELECTRONIC GLITCHES.

MICK & THEIA: (PAINED GRUNTS)

JUNO: What the hell…?!

MICK & THEIA: (LONG YELL)

SOUND: LOUD STATIC FOR SEVERAL SECONDS. WHITE NOISE/SMALL GLITCHES, SOUND FADES.

MICK: (GRUNTS)

(PANTING) Jayjay… Rita… I’m sorr…

SOUND: THUMP. CLINK.

RITA: He’s breathin’, boss.

SOUND: STOMP, CRACKING. GRUNTS.

You don’t gotta– I-I already deactivated it, Mista Steel. It ain’t gonna hurt any– one…

JUNO: (PANTING) How does Mick look?

RITA: His heart’s okay. But he’s sweatin’ a lot, and he looks real tired, and… he’s got bruises all up an’ down his legs, Mista Steel – his arms, too – movin’ that fast must’a tore every muscle he’s got.

JUNO: And there’s no Theia to help him shake it off anymore.

(SIGHS) Not exactly helping the crushing guilt, but here we are, I guess.

RITA: Mista Steel… I… I… I…

JUNO: Don’t say it.

RITA: I’m so sorry, boss!! I know you told me to stop hackin’ into your best friend and to delete all the stuff I did already but he was just really spookin’ me so I made the comms do a “boop!” an’ that wasn’t even the delete sound by the way which made me so nervous you’d find out but anyway I should’a listened I know I should’a—

JUNO: Rita, no, please. You were right. You saved me, and besides…

Why the hell am I telling you what to do? You’re in danger, too, and… it’s not like we’re getting paid for this, so why the hell am I your boss?

RITA: Huh?

JUNO: I’m still lookin’ at this like it’s all about me and… him. Ramses pulls me in for a one-on-one conversation, I tell him it’s not personal, and then, what do I do? I act like this is a… I don’t know, a duel. Just me and him, squarin’ off. But… you live in this city. This is just as much your fight as anybody else’s. (SNORTS) I-I told you I’d change. Hell of a lot that was worth. Maybe the Theia was onto something; one bad choice and all your progress is gone.

(SIGHS) Maybe the reason it was so terrifying is because it was right.

RITA: No, Mista Steel. I think it was probably scary because it brainwashed your best friend, and then threw him through a door at you.

JUNO: (LAUGHS) Yeah, maybe.

RITA: And besides, boss?

SOUND: RUSTLE.

I ain’t goin’ nowhere.

JUNO: Uh… thanks, Rita.

RITA: Even if you ain’t the boss right now I’m still gonna call you boss, though.

JUNO: What? Why?

RITA: ‘Cause I almost never use your first name and every time I do I wanna throw up a little bit.

JUNO: So what, am I supposed to call you Miss—

RITA: NO don’t please Rita is good thank you!

Now let’s get Mista Mercury into bed, boss, and then let’s get a whole buncha painkillers into Mista Mercury. He’s, uh… gonna need ‘em, I think.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Mick woke up for a few seconds before I left. I was grateful for that. I… needed to hear him.

MICK: (COUGHING)

RITA: Mista Steel!

JUNO: Hm?

MICK: Hey there. Fancy seeing you two— (PAINED GASP)

JUNO: Hold on, Mercury, take it easy. You… you had an accident. But it’s gonna be okay.

MICK: Aw, come on, don’t kid me, Juno. I remember what I did. All of it.

RITA: I… don’t think you did all that, Mista Mercury.

JUNO: He didn’t. You didn’t. It was that… thing.

MICK: Y’know, I let them put it on me? Didn’t even fight it. They said it was an ID tag or something and I didn’t even…

JUNO: So they lied to you about it?

MICK: No. Not exactly. Just said it would… make our lives easier. To be fair… this is a pretty cool apartment. (LAUGHS, WINCES)

JUNO: So you liked it, then. You wanted to keep that chip on you.

MICK: Liked beating the hell out of you? Liked saying all that junk? No, Jay, come on. Or at least… I definitely don’t like them now.

JUNO: But you were fine with them then. You felt… good, then.

MICK: I don’t know about good. It just felt… easy. (CHUCKLES) Like nothin’ really mattered. Nothing… really…

RITA: (AFTER A PAUSE) Boss?

JUNO: Hm?

RITA: It’s almost time for your talk with Mayor O’Flaherty.

JUNO: Yeah. (SIGHS) Yeah, you’re right.

RITA: Good luck, Mista Steel.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t want to do it alone. But Rita had convinced me it was too much of a threat to leave Mick behind unguarded. She could at least keep a stranglehold on the apartment’s systems, keep the neighbors away for a while.

Meanwhile I had to walk down those darkening streets alone, a dead Theia Soul taped to the back of my neck, weaving through crowds of happy people on their happy ways.

SOUND: CROWD CHATTER.

No. No, it wasn’t just that they were happy. That’d be too easy – an army of mindless, smiling zombies was something I could get Ramses to see the problem with. It was the equation they implied.

Because the Theia took control away from Mick, sure, but… how much was control actually worth? If you put it at one end of the scale and on the other end you put happiness, balance, the cure-all for addictions and mistakes and heart attacks and everything else – how much does control actually matter? If we just use freedom to hurt ourselves, is it really as valuable as we think it is?

And I might have kept thinking that way if a chill in my bones didn’t make me stop dead in my tracks, on a quiet little side-street.

I didn’t recognize a single building there. And yet, somehow… I knew. From the shape of the ground, from the stars that hung directly overhead, from whatever force in your gut tells you what the shape of the world looks like, I knew that I was standing directly in front of the Oldtown apartment where my family lived for years.

SOUND: WATER RUNNING.

There wasn’t an apartment building there anymore; it was a park now. A tiny one, nestled in the shadows between two buildings.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

And it was beautiful, with a path down the middle, with flowers and small fountains on either side, but, what stood out most about it was the statue at the end of the path, standing tall and proud in chainmail, grinning devil-may-care at the stars.

I read the inscription on the statue’s base out loud:

JUNO: “Welcome… home.”

(SNORTS) Welcome home. (LAUGHS) Welcome home. (LAUGHING) Ramses, you idiot – this thing is beautiful. Mom would’ve hated it. (CRY-LAUGHING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): God, she would’ve hated it. Seeing Andromeda lookin’ so cocky? Lookin’ like the battle was over, that she’d made it back to Polaris, and now everyone was just gonna live… happily ever after?

(SNORTS) It was ridiculous! A grand gesture at nothing, to nobody, for no reason. Just an old man thinking some fountains and flowers could band-aid three ruined lives. Thinking you could make deserved guilt go away by throwin’ money at it.

And all at once I found Ramses O’Flaherty-slash-Jack Takano-slash-whoever he was before that so goddamn funny it made me want to cry.

So… I cried.

JUNO: (CRY-LAUGHING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Because he wasn’t some divine arbiter of good like he thought he was, like… I hoped he was. He was just a person. Just a ridiculous man with enough money to run away from every problem except his guilt. A blundering giant who tripped and tumbled from life to life, but who crushed the people below him with every fall.

And then… I knew what I was going to say to Ramses O’Flaherty.

JUNO: (SNIFFLES) I’ll beat you, goddammit, you self-righteous old moron. I’ll beat you.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Because that was Ramses’s problem. He thought he knew better than everybody else, that when people hurt themselves it was because they hadn’t listened to him.

He’d decided Sarah Steel couldn’t handle Northstar on her own, so he took it. He decided I couldn’t be trusted with my own body, so he took it. He decided that every resident of Hyperion City had their chance to make their home better and they’d blown it… so he took the city, too.

But it never worked – none of the people he’d ever helped had stayed helped – because you can’t force someone else into it. Because getting better’s always on you. It has to be. And that doesn’t mean you’re alone; it doesn’t mean you can’t lean on others when you get tired or ask for directions when you get lost, but…

Getting better’s a long road. And if you want to go down it, you have to start walking.

That’s what I was gonna tell him. I wasn’t going to back down.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

And, I wouldn’t give in until he stopped – until he finally… left people alone, for the first time in his goddamn life.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

That’s… what I was going to tell Ramses. If we’d ever had that last talk he promised me.

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: Ramses! I’ve been waiting outside for fifteen minutes, where the hell—

Ramses? Ramses?!

SOUND: QUICK FOOTSTEPS.

Come on, O’Flaherty, snap out of it. Ramses!

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): But, Ramses O’Flaherty was dead.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Lying facedown in a pile of papers. A half-packed suitcase on the floor beside him.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

SOUND: CLATTERING. RUSTLING.

Wake up, you… coward! You can’t be dead! Goddammit, Jack, I’m not finished with you yet!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I investigated the body. I had to know. If I was never going to get my last words with him, I had to know who had taken that away from me.

I wanted to find them. To hurt them. I could taste it like hot yellow bile in my throat. There was no sign of struggle; some scuff marks on the floor that suggested kicking, but… nothin’ big. No wounds or fingerprints. No footprints but my own. Nothing.

So, for a while I was convinced it was poison. So convinced I could hear it sizzling in his veins, but– goddamn it I couldn’t find a drop, a needlemark, even a cup or a piece of food it could have been given to him in. And I couldn’t find a single symptom of a toxin I knew. Nothing. Nothing.

When someone dies unexpectedly, you start looking for answers. For reasons. Not to how, necessarily, but… why, I guess. In some imaginary cosmic way.

So, I started lookin’ through his papers.

SOUND: PAPER SHUFFLING.

Eventually I found medical records, prescriptions, all that kind of thing. Heart condition. He’d already lasted longer than the doctors estimated. His notes made it sound like he planned to last forever.

He was thinking of telling me about his medical problems. I know because of what he was writing at that desk: our conversation. Hundreds and hundreds of versions of it, written out in rushed handwriting. Predicting everything I might say and preparing himself for every path our debate could have taken.

SOUND: WATCH TICKING.

RAMSES (VOICEOVER): It’s just what they call a bum ticker, Juno. A quirk. Like this bum ticker, here. It’s been on its last legs for almost forty years now, but it’s never stopped – and I don’t see why I should, either.

JUNO (NARRATOR): That got the fire worked up in me all over again and for a white-hot moment of relief I knew, knew that someone had murdered him, because the Theia Soul could restart hearts, so he must have put one on himself. He must have. So I checked, to be sure.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

But… Ramses didn’t have a Soul. He’d just died. Alone. In the city of his own design.

(SIGHS) I spent… a long time reading his notes. How couldn’t I? It was the closest thing I’d ever get to winning, or… to goodbye.

Some versions showed O’Flaherty still hadn’t given up on me.

RAMSES (VOICEOVER): (LAUGHS) Excellent, excellent, Juno! I’m so glad to have you on board, my friend; you’re going to be incredible! A legend! I’m certain of it!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And that he probably never would have bent, no matter what I said to him.

RAMSES (VOICEOVER): The Theia Soul is not a brainwashing device in any way except for the most literal interpretation of those two words. It does not wipe the mind: it cleans it. Removes the detritus of spite and addiction and impatience and greed. We wash our bodies to clean us of parasites that mean us harm every day: why shouldn’t we wash our minds of parasitic thoughts the same way?

JUNO (NARRATOR): But the thing I couldn’t ignore about those notes was how many there were. How many of his planned-out conversations ended in dead ends, bad points crossed out so viciously he’d torn through the pages.

RAMSES (VOICEOVER): (OVERLAPPING) Your mother—! Do not lie to me! Newtown’s worked, it’s working, and it— I don’t know what you think you saw—

JUNO (NARRATOR): I spent a while trying to understand which of these notes, which of these planned conversations, showed the real Ramses O’Flaherty, like each sliding piece of paper on his desk was a mask and one of them, one of them had to be his real face. His points weren’t consistent. He kept contradicting himself. So… which one did he mean?

MUSIC: ENDS.

But in the end maybe that’s who Ramses O’Flaherty was. What a person is. A pile of masks assembled in blind panic. And, even if you dug past all those masks to find what lay beneath… would there even be anoyone down there?

RAMSES (VOICEOVER): How did we end up here, Juno? I can’t make sense of it, no matter how hard I try. How is it possible that we, the two people in the galaxy whose compass for good I most respect, are at odds? When there’s so much evil, so much suffering across the worlds… how have you and I ended up on opposite ends of the battlefield?

It feels so wrong. Like there’s a tear in the essential fabric that connects us. Like… I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. I’ve felt this way before, but only in my darkest moments. Because the guilt… it’s childish to assume that doing good things must feel good, that we must have something inside us that gives us treats when we’re good and punishes us when we’re naughty. But even all these years later, it isn’t the charities that jump out at me, the good causes, the soup kitchens. It’s the failures. Your mother. And you, and Benzaiten, and… faces before those.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Guilt, Juno. It will eat you alive. It lays its eggs in you, it claws and bites from within, and it grows, Juno. No matter what I do, it grows, and grows, and grows.

When I saw you were the P.I. investigating one of my real estate ventures, it felt like a blessing. Like my chance to do good again. That with you, with Newtown, that guilt might finally be sated.

Yet here we are. And still, it gnaws on my stomach.

Newtown must work. It has to work. Please, Juno, tell me how to make it work. Because if I can’t pay that debt in guilt, if I can’t feel for once like the good I’ve done finally outweighs the suffering…

JUNO (NARRATOR): I never got to know what would happen if that was true, because…

MUSIC: ENDS.

that was the last word Ramses wrote before he died.

Did he mean any of it? I don’t know. I don’t even know what he meant for that slip of paper to be, a closing statement or a suicide note or a message goodbye, so he could finish packing his briefcase and run away all over again. I’d never know. So, maybe all I’ve really said has been about me. That presented with a pile of masks I chose that one to hold onto. I didn’t know. I don’t know.

I sat there for a long time. The only thing that got me moving again was a comms call from Rita. I should’ve updated her earlier, but at the time I… I guess I felt like the clock had stopped.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Mista Steel! Mista Steel, are you okay?

JUNO: I’m… yeah, I-I think so. But Rita, this is just so—

RITA (FROM COMMS): Boss I am very glad you’re okay and everything but we can talk about how dead you ain’t later! You gotta turn on a news stream right now!

JUNO: What?

RITA (FROM COMMS): Turn it on, or make Mayor O’Flaherty turn it on! We’re runnin’ outta time, boss!

JUNO (NARRATOR): So I found Ramses’s monitor and turned it on.

SOUND: TV SWITCHES ON. NEWS JINGLE.

I didn’t need to ask what news stream Rita meant. The message was on all of them.

REPORTER (FROM TV): And so Oldtown has spoken. Or perhaps we hould I say Newtown. In case you missed it, here’s the footage of the moment in question one more time:

SOUND: CROWD MURMURING. HORN BLOWS.

THEIA (FROM SPEAKER): Citizens of Hyperion City. The way home is. Nearly ready. In twenty-four hours. Newtown will part its gates to you.

SOUND: HORN BLOWS. CLOCK TICKING.

JUNO: No way.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Did Mayor O’Flaherty not listen to you? Did he activate it while you were talkin’ to him? What’s goin’ on?!

JUNO: I don’t know, Rita. I– I don’t know!

Find a safe place to hide Mick and meet me at the mayor’s office. We’ll take care of this. I don’t know how, but… we’ll take care of this.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Okay, Mista Steel. I’m on my way.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Twenty-four hours. Newtown was still going to open. And all those people with all those Theias were going to spill out, and change… everything.

I grabbed the most important-looking things I could find in Ramses’s bag and prepared myself to go, and I told myself I wasn’t gonna look at him again. Told myself to act like Small Fry, to think like the big guy, to only look back to ensure we had not come this way before.

Because the old man wasn’t really dead. His body was, but, months ago he’d told me himself that a body’s not worth much. When he said to me “what we do, what we make – that stays.”

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING.

Ramses wouldn’t be gone, truly gone, until that countdown had stopped. Until every Theia Soul had been deactivated. Until every thing he made was gone.

I kept telling myself I wasn’t going to look back, as I turned out the light, as I opened the door, as I looked back at his borrowed face, lit softly by the nighttime glow of the city he made. It looked like he was moving for a second, but the life wasn’t in his body anymore. It was in Newtown… the shining city of his own design.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert, and actor Matthew Zahnzinger:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …to everyone, it’s obvious to Ramses and Juno and the entire audience that everything is leading up to the final confrontation—

MATTHEW: Yep.

SOPHIE: —and, you know, like, what is going on with Newtown, and, like, this final showdown. It’s so obvious that this is how it goes—

KEVIN: Yep.

SOPHIE: —and one day I sort of like sat bolt upright and I was like, “what if… it DIDN’T?! What if he just dies?” Kevin was like, “why? Why would he die?” I was like, “HE’S OLD!”

MATTHEW: (LAUGHS)

KEVIN: Yeah, so…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Aurora Cyr, Demi Prince, Camille Blanton, Ota Arcana, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Man of the Future, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, Kate Jones as Rita, Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury, and Sophie Kaner as the Theia.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE MAN OF THE FUTURE (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through Newtown.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Juno Steel and the Man of the Future.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

VOICE 1 (FROM TV): (FADING IN) Only forty-eight hours remain until the gates to Oldtown open, and town hall remains completely silent on this issue. Though some protestors have called for city officials to remove Mayor O’Flaherty from office completely, no such motions have been put into effect.

RAMSES O’FLAHERTY: (OVER THE BELOW) Time, time; just give me time. This will work. (SIGHS)

VOICE 1 [REPORTER] (FROM TV): (OVER THE ABOVE) Victories in the mayoral race by as large a margin as between O’Flaherty and former Mayor Pereyra are extremely rare, and it’s likely that a removal from office so soon would lead to rioting in the streets.

RAMSES: It has to.

REPORTER (FROM TV): The whereabouts of Pilot Pereyra remain unknown. The HCPD’s investigation into their disappearance continues—

SOUND: ELECTRONIC CHIME.

—but with funding to law enforcement cut so radic—

SOUND: TV CLICKS OFF.

THEIA (FROM SPEAKER): Mayor O’Flaherty. You have an appointment. With the citizen known as:

JUNO (FROM SPEAKER): —ey, get your metal-claw-gun-things off her, you lousy—

RITA (FROM SPEAKER): Mista Steeeeeeeeee—

THEIA (FROM SPEAKER): Would you like me to send them in?

RAMSES: Just Juno. Thank you, Theia.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC CHIME.

(SIGHS, GRUMBLES) A difficult conversation… an important conversation. But you’ve had those before, Ramses. And you have the most important advantage: you’re right.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. STUMBLING FOOTSTEPS.

RITA: HEY you give me back my Mista Steel right now you nasty old robot or I swear I’m gonna fill you with so many viruses you’ll—

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: (PANTING) Rita!

SOUND: DOORKNOB RATTLES, BANGING.

RAMSES: The door is locked, Juno.

JUNO: (PANTING)

RAMSES: She’ll be perfectly unharmed. I hope you know that. My goal is not to hurt either of you, and… whatever you think of me now, I hope you still know that good is what I’m after. I couldn’t possibly lie about that. Not to you. And it was always my plan, my honest intention, for you and I to work together in making that good; if you hadn’t run off like that I would have explained. You would understand.

(AFTER A PAUSE) Are you just going to stand there and stare at me, Juno? Say something!

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I can’t take any credit for how well my silence was riling O’Flaherty up, because… honestly, I was shouting the same thing at myself. Say something, Steel; say… anything.

I had plenty to say – the whole way here, dragged by a huge spider-legged enforcer bot that called itself the Theia Peace, I’d dredged up a few thousand things I wanted to throw in Ramses-O’Flaherty-slash-Jack-Takano’s face. And now, standing in front of him… I couldn’t get a single one of them to come out.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’m thirty-nine years old, and, I don’t know how the hell that happened; because I still feel like a scared little kid who needs his heroes to keep sane in a galaxy that doesn’t give a damn.

That’s why I couldn’t speak. Ramses O’Flaherty was still my hero, and, at the same time I wanted him to drop dead, and the two incompatible thoughts were crowding out my one small brain and I just couldn’t. Move.

But I’d spent months by then doing things I just couldn’t do, and the secret was this: you just do ‘em anyway.

RAMSES: Juno…?

JUNO: So.

“Newtown,” huh?

RAMSES: (CHUCKLES) You make that dramatic an entrance, and you want to criticize my branding?

MUSIC: ENDS.

(LAUGHING) Oh, it is good to hear that wit again, Juno. It’s good to see you well.

JUNO: What’s goin’ on here, Ramses?

RAMSES: Going on? You and I are just talking. A reunion. I’ve found my partner in good again, and Juno… I can’t tell you how much of a relief it is. I can’t tell you how worried—

JUNO: You know what I mean. Newtown. Those giant… Theia-things outside. The closed borders, you, all of it, what in the hell is going on?

RAMSES: We’ll… get to that, I promise you. I have a lot to catch you up on, but first… let an old man be sentimental, won’t you? Because there’s, um… something I have to tell you… about our– well– …our acquaintance. How I found you… eh, well, uhm… although, it is a fact that—

JUNO: I can count on Jack.

RAMSES: What?

JUNO: (SIGHS) I know, Ramses. I know a lotta things now, and I suspect even more. For example: I know who you really are, and I suspect that’s why you hired me in the first place. Must have been spooky, setting up a big real estate con like that and then finding out the thorn in your side is the kid you screwed over thirty years ago? Must have been real spooky.

RAMSES: You… know.

Of course. You figured it out. Nobody else has, but, if it was going to be anyone, it– it would be you, wouldn’t it?

JUNO: Don’t think that’s why I came here to talk to you.

RAMSES: Ah that’s why you left.

I can’t possibly tell you how sorry I am, Juno. Everything that happened to your mother—

JUNO: Listen to me.

RAMSES: You have to understand that I had it all planned out. Her deterioration, Benzaiten, neither of them was supposed to happen. I didn’t want to steal from her; I just wanted to help the company, the people who worked there. And I was always going to send her the profits from Andromeda, every cred, but she never accepted a single payment—

JUNO: I said listen!

This is not about us. You messed up. Bad. And I’m never going to forgive you for it, no matter what you say, so don’t bother. I’m not here to talk to Jack. I’m here to talk to Mayor O’Flaherty about what he built, so drop it. Now.

RAMSES: (SIGHS) Fine, then. We’ll just talk business.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I realized I needed a drink worse than I had in decades. My throat was begging for the cold knife of it, the burning embers left behind, and… I knew Ramses probably had one of my favorites in those desk drawers – a bottle of Crater Moonshine, maybe Europa Black.

But I wouldn’t ask for it. I knew and feared and respected Ramses O’Flaherty, and– I knew it was gonna take every neuron I had to keep up with him. We weren’t shooting or brawling: we were talking. That meant I was fighting in his element.

RAMSES: You’re a citizen of this city. I’m your mayor. If you have complaints, say them.

JUNO: You shouldn’t have built all this. You shouldn’t have destroyed Oldtown.

RAMSES: Why?

JUNO: Because you kicked people outta their homes!

RAMSES: And gave them all new ones. Homes that don’t leak. Homes that run on government electricity, electricity which costs a fraction of what they paid the monopolies in the rest of the city. Homes with security.

JUNO: Security! It-it’s a police state out there, Ramses!

RAMSES: It isn’t.

JUNO: It is. I had my head out of the sewer for two seconds before a Theia stuck a cannon up my goddamn nose.

RAMSES: Because I knew you were coming to me through the sewers – a fact that the Theia Orders told you directly. There are not guards on every street corner. Only where I knew you would need an escort.

JUNO: An escort!

RAMSES: And besides, it was not a cannon. It was a stun blaster. Large, so that it cannot be concealed, but less forceful, even, than the stun lasers on your own gun.

JUNO: Like I believe that.

RAMSES: You don’t have to. I can show you, in hard numbers, the force of those bots’ firepower. The voltscanners we’ll use to do it were confiscated from the police office we closed – terribly corrupt. The very office responsible for the multiple robberies perpetrated upon your childhood home, which led Sarah to—

JUNO: Stop it.

I mean it. I’m not here to talk about her, or you, or us. I’m here to talk about my city.

RAMSES: Our city.

JUNO: You can’t just buy a town, you lousy—

RAMSES: So go ahead. What complaints do you have with Newtown? All ten minutes you’ve seen of it.

JUNO: (AFTER A PAUSE, GROWLS)

RAMSES: You’re on quite the roll, Juno, but may I interject a question into this litany of complaints?

JUNO: Fine.

RAMSES: What is wrong with Newtown?

(AFTER A PAUSE) I asked, “what is wrong with Newtown?”

JUNO: I heard you.

RAMSES: Let’s grant, for a moment, your assertion that I should not have evicted people from old, broken-down, dangerous buildings. That I should not have wiped the slate clean in Oldtown, the sector of this city with the most armed crime, the most murder, the most fatal drug use, the lowest graduation rates, the most egregious police corruption, the least access to clean water and healthy food. Though I find the assertion absurd, let’s grant that I should not have done that.

What now?

JUNO: What do you mean, what now?

RAMSES: ‘Shouldn’t have’ is useful for determining long-term policy and strategy. If you and I decide that my actions were at fault, I will write into action a slate of laws that ensure they never happen again. But no matter how many laws I write, Juno, none of them will reassemble Oldtown from its ashes. Oldtown is gone.

So what would you have me do now?

JUNO: “What would you have me do now?” “You and I decide?” I know when I’m being taken for a ride, O’Flaherty.

RAMSES: I said I wanted you as my partner in good, Juno. Discussions like this were always my final step. I trust your ability and your moral compass more than any other person, including myself.

JUNO: (SNORTS) Funny way of showing it. If you trusted me more than you, Ramses, the puppet and puppetmaster would’ve been switched.

RAMSES: You’re talking about the Theia Spectrum.

JUNO: You’re damn right I’m talking about the Theia Spectrum. You picked me up and tossed me around like a doll, O’Flaherty—you used me. You used me to kill Pilot—

RAMSES: You did not kill Pilot.

JUNO: And your Piranha-faced goon—

RAMSES: The Theia controlled you to avoid exactly that end, Juno, but you insisted—

JUNO: And who cares what else! I don’t give a damn about your excuses, O’Flaherty, because the fact is: you reached down and plucked my mind and muscles like a goddamn harp. You used me. You used me just like you used me when I was a kid, just like you used my mother—

RAMSES: Your mother—

JUNO: Sarah Steel! You used her—

RAMSES: Well then. Juno, is this conversation personal, or isn’t it?

JUNO: You goddamn—!

(BREATHES) Fine. It’s not about us. I’ll drop it.

But your point is still bunk, Ramses. If you trust my moral compass better than yours, why the hell aren’t you listening to me?

RAMSES: Because you’ve yet to make a single coherent statement for me to listen to, Juno. Not one.

I return again to my question. Oldtown is gone. So: what is the good thing to do now? Give them new homes? I’ve done that, and better ones. Treat them well, give them freedom to build the lives they wish, reimburse them for their pains? All these things, done, and many of them out of my own pocket so that the city still has plenty left for everyone else. What would you have me do now?

JUNO: Let them all go. They aren’t free; you have them locked up in here.

RAMSES: They will be let go, in forty-eight hours, when it’s safe to go—

JUNO: Safe! So you’re saying it’s dangerous! You’re putting them in danger!

RAMSES: If you wish to know what’s happening in Newtown, do not interrupt me.

It isn’t dangerous for the residents here. They are safe. But you can’t just drop a new neighborhood, a new way of life, into a pre-existing city and expect the transition to be flawless. We allow individuals across the border first; anyone may leave, but only Newtown residents and select guests can enter until the city adjusts to our idea.

JUNO: What idea? You keep saying that, but what—

RAMSES: The idea that a place can solve the big problems for us. The myth for too long has been that if we all just behave ourselves, paradise can be ours. But our surroundings have never allowed that. Now they do. In Newtown, there is no more crime, no more suffering. These things only happen when people want what they can’t have, and that does not happen here. The city itself solves it.

JUNO: That’s… come on, Ramses, that can’t be true.

RAMSES: You see? Even you are reluctant to believe it. What’s the rest of the city going to do to Newtown if we don’t acclimate them first?

JUNO: I don’t know, Ramses, but, it’s hell out there. People are scared. Really scared.

RAMSES: Well. What should I do about it?

JUNO: And the sewers – the rabbits, really? You had to kill them?

RAMSES: We… tried letting the rabbits up here. It… didn’t work. They just can’t understand. Yet.

(CLEARS THROAT) It’s, uh… horrible. I asked for them to be relocated, but with our remaining resources… so much had been put into Newtown itself, and projecting costs to the rest of the city—

JUNO: It’s awful, Ramses.

RAMSES: I know. But the human good is so massive, Juno. What would you have me do?

JUNO: Just… f-fix it!

RAMSES: Fix it! And what would that entail?

JUNO: I don’t know! That’s not my job!

RAMSES: You’re right. It’s mine. And yet you seem intent on not listening—

JUNO: Give up the job. Alright? That’s what I want you to do. You’ve only made people miserable with it, so step down and let somebody else pick this place up.

RAMSES: Like who? Is there anyone you trust with that, Juno? Is there even anyone you trust to choose someone like that?

JUNO: Y’know, O’Flaherty, you keep saying that you trust my opinions then tossing ‘em out when I give ‘em. If you’re gonna drag me in here to advise you I don’t know why the hell you’re treating me like a goddamn misbehaving kid!

RAMSES: Because I’m disappointed, Juno! You ask for everything and you don’t care if you contradict yourself and you don’t care if what you’re asking for is possible. You are acting like a child!

No, worse than that. When you were a child, you understood that a small, harmful act was acceptable if it led to greater good in the future. You understood that lying to your mother meant saving your brother, meant saving every job at Northstar! Do you think they’d still have jobs if Sarah—

JUNO: Saving my brother?! My mom?! They’re dead, Ramses, and it all started that day!

RAMSES: Because she wouldn’t just take the damned money! It all would have been fine if she just took the money I gave her!

Instead, she obsessed over what I should not have done for years, until it turned to rot inside her. Until she killed her son. When all the while, the opportunity for a better life was begging to be taken.

Don’t make the same mistake, Juno. Please.

JUNO: I’m not Sarah Steel.

RAMSES: You are certainly not.

JUNO: I make my own mistakes.

If you think they look like hers, that’s on you, but I’m a different person, in a different time, with… a different life, talking to a person she never met named Ramses O’Flaherty.

And I’ll admit it; I don’t know what’s wrong with this city, but I don’t know what’s right with it, either, ‘cause… here’s the thing, Ramses: I can’t talk about what’s going on in Newtown because you haven’t said a goddamn thing about it.

RAMSES: Hah. If I told you now, you’d accept every detail you liked, and accuse me of lying for the rest. That’s what happens when you go in with your conclusion already determined.

JUNO: You’re dodging the question. What is Newtown, Ramses?

RAMSES: This is a waste of my time.

JUNO: It’s not a hard question. No crime, no want, no suffering – how are you doing it?

RAMSES: If you want to know so badly then go out there and find out!

Yes. Yes, I think that may be the answer after all.

JUNO: What is?

RAMSES: I concede to your point, Juno. You’re right. It was unfair of me to engage you in a debate on a topic you knew nothing about. I cannot create good merely because I want it; it must exist without me. And Newtown is built to do just that. I am certain of it.

This is what we’ll do. With the time we have.

JUNO: I’m listening.

RAMSES: You assert that Newtown hurts people. That there’s something nefarious at work here. I assert that everyone in Newtown is happy, healthy, safe. Therefore: I will give you twenty-four hours to roam Newtown to your heart’s content. And if you find a single person suffering within these walls – even one person – I will call an end to this. I will resign as Mayor of Hyperion City. I will donate everything I have left to whatever causes you choose.

JUNO: Twenty-four hours isn’t a very long time.

RAMSES: I know. Believe me, Juno, I know. But Newtown opens in forty-eight hours, and there are… processes I must follow in order to close it.

JUNO: You could delay it.

RAMSES: And keep all those people at the gates without their families for how long? Another day, week, decade? It is agony to hurt them even this long. No. I cannot delay it.

JUNO: You talk a big game about givin’ me a fair shot, Ramses, but when I tell you what one looks like you got a lot of excuses.

RAMSES: You want what I can’t give. It’s no more complicated than that. (SIGHS) What do you want? What can I give you to help this investigation, Juno? A direction? Suggestions?

JUNO: Sorry, nope. Don’t take leads from the enemy.

RAMSES: You are the only one of us who sees it that way.

JUNO: Yeah, well. You have a census or anything like that? List of names, addresses, comms coordinates?

RAMSES: I do.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC BEEP, SCROLLING, BEEP.

I’ll send it to your comms immediately. Is there anything else?

JUNO: Not yet. But I’ll keep in touch.

SOUND: THUD.

The hell?

RAMSES: Your associate, I believe. I tried calling her several minutes ago, but, by now I’d imagine she has my Theia wrapped around her little finger.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

THEIA: The door is open. Yippee.

RITA: HA! Mista Steel, I saved you! Rita’s here—

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

—and she ain’t leavin’ until we get what we—

JUNO: I’m done. Come on, Rita, let’s… get the hell out of here.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS SLOW TO A WALK.

RITA: …Oh.

And you! Don’t you ever bother Mista Steel ever again, you…! You…!

(BLOWS RASPBERRY)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

RAMSES: Try not to break my town, will you?

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

(SIGHS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I expected Ramses to excise, or– conveniently forget the name I was looking for on that census, but, there he was: name, address, everything.

I didn’t want to call his comms ahead of time because I didn’t want anyone to know where we were heading. On the way there I tried to keep track of what parts of Oldtown we were passing through, but… with no recognizable landmarks it was pointless. This was a new city on old land.

The place was on the fourteenth floor of a new skyrise. We passed a crowd of people leaving the building as we entered, not a single stitch of fear or hunger in their faces—

SOUND: DISTANT CROWD LAUGHTER.

—they seemed… content.

I felt sick watching them; and it just got worse when I felt how clean and clear the air was, and… when I realized I hadn’t heard a single shout or threat or slur since we got here. Sick like Ramses might’ve been right; sick like I was standing in the way of his progress. I tried to slow down. Desperation was just gonna make me jump to conclusions. If Ramses wanted a fight, I had to be better than this.

RITA: This is the address, boss.

JUNO: Seems like it.

SOUND: DOORBELL RINGS.

RITA: D’you think everything’s okay?

JUNO: Not sure yet.

SOUND: TWO DOORBELL RINGS.

MICK MERCURY: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Uh, just a second! I-I’m coming! I’m—

SOUND: MUFFLED CLATTERING.

Whoa! Oh! Oof!

JUNO: (SIGHS) Yeah, it sounds like everything’s… as okay as it ever gets with Mercury.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Ah, just a minute! I just gotta… clean up, I guess…

JUNO: Yyyyep. Typical.

SOUND: MUFFLED CLANKS.

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR, OVER THE BELOW) Owww!!! Ah, c’mon, stupid…! (GRUNTS) Ahh!

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE) Listen… we don’t know what kind of trouble Mick’s in, alright? Even if he’s actin’ weird, we can’t ask why; we—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR, OVER THE BELOW) Yeow!! Ow! Ow ow ow! (SIGHS)

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE) —we don’t know who might be listening and it could just put him in more danger. Alright?

RITA: Yeah, yeah, I know, boss, I been with you on a few cases now, I get it. I get the pictcha—

SOUND: MUFFLED HAMMERING.

—the pictcha is mine—

MICK: (THROUGH THE DOOR, OVER THE BELOW) There! That’s more- yeow!

RITA: (OVER THE ABOVE) —I own it the pictcha now. So give it a rest already, willya?

JUNO: …Okay.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

MICK: Sorry, sorry! I was just uh, doing some, uh, jazz redecorating and I…

Jayjay!

SOUND: THUD.

JUNO: Oof! …Mercury.

MICK: Oh man, it’s you, I can’t believe it’s really—

RITA: So what kinda trouble you in, Mista Mercury? Are you bein’ watched? Listened to? Smelled at?

MICK: Whuh?

JUNO: Rita…

RITA: How many bad guys you got hidden in there, huh? How many? Four or five in the closet, sixteen all balled up under the sink? Spill, Mercury!

JUNO: Or don’t, please.

MICK: I– is this what this is all about, you guys? You think I’m in trouble or something?

JUNO: (SIGHING) To be fair, Mercury, you’re usually in trouble.

MICK: Well! Yeah, I used to be. But not anymore!

JUNO: And you usually sa—

MICK: I know what I usually say, but not anymore to that too, alright? This is real, Jay, this is the real deal!

JUNO: What is?

MICK: Newtown, buddy! It’s amazing here! I’m back on my feet in a big way, and I got a great apartment, and a bunch of friends, and, my life hasn’t been in serious danger since the last time I saw you! Which, y’know, is maybe cause for alarm for me right now, but I’m willin’ to let bygones be bygones.

JUNO: Bygones?!

MICK: And I’m gettin’ cultured, Jay. I’ve got culture like they write about. I’m so full’a culture that if you squeezed my stomach fine wine would spray—

JUNO: Y’know, maybe don’t finish that thought, ‘cause I feel like it’s just gonna hurt your point, actually.

MICK: Then here, look, I’ll prove it to ya. (CLEARS THROAT) Would either of you ladies like… some tea?

RITA: Not really—

JUNO: Yes. Yes, we both want tea, just… so bad.

RITA: (WHISPERING) But boss, you don’t even like—

JUNO: (WHISPERING) Maybe not, but– I have to see him try to make some. I just… it’s been a rough couple of days; I need this.

RITA: (WHISPERING) That’s kinda mean, Mista St—

MICK: Alright! That’s two teas for Club Whispers over here. Now why don’t you two come inside and have a seat on my furniture. Ha!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

(WHISTLES)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RITA: He’s got a nice place, Mista Steel.

SOUND: DISTANT DOOR OPENS, CLOSES.

Slidin’ door out onto the balcony. Soft sofas. It even smells nice, like… like… well, not like Mista Mercury, is I guess what I’m sayin’.

JUNO: Yyyep. Real nice.

So the question is who the hell Ramses must be screwin’ over in order to afford to keep up such expensive apartments for everyone.

RITA: Huh? They ain’t expensive, boss. Probably cost less than yours, and yours is a real dump, which don’t make any sense ‘cause y’know, as your financial advisor, I’ve been meanin’ ta tell you ta start spendin’ some of the money comin’ in ‘cause it ain’t like you’re usin—

JUNO: Not expensive? How?

RITA: Oh, um, I mean, they’re all mass-produced, Mista Steel. Like an assembly line. Except, if all the parts of the assembly line were bots with that same creepy lady’s voice.

JUNO: You mean this place was built by Theias? The ones with cannons for arms?

RITA: Nah, but they know how to. The ones I hacked into so far know how to do everything, Mista Steel, or at least everything any of the other ones know how to do. It’s weird ‘cause they ain’t got no security—it’s like they all got copies of the same one mind, y’see, except it ain’t a real mind, not an AI or nothin’, just a pretty simple cause-and-effect pipeline that knows how to put the solutions to formulas into new formulas, but it ain’t like it can learn or make new formulas from scratch or– OH! Maybe that’s somethin’ kinda weird an’ interestin’!

JUNO: Uhhh, yeah. I think so.

(MUTTERING) If only I knew what the hell it meant.

SOUND: DISTANT DOOR OPENS.

MICK: Here he comes, with some tea for his houseguests.

SOUND: CHINA RATTLING.

And he only burned himself twice.

RITA: Uhh… maybe, Mista Mercury, but that burn on your neck looks pretty bad…

JUNO: Burned his neck. (SNICKERS)

MICK: Hey, I’m still gettin’ used to this place, alright? Never had a toaster oven before.

Anyway, anyway, enough about me! Sit down, come on, make yourselves comfortable. You like couches? ‘Cause that couch over there is made from one hundred percent…

…couch.

JUNO: Sure, we’ll s– we’ll sit, Mick, but… you’re actually who we’re here to talk about. You and… Newtown.

MICK: Me and…? Oh, what, did I already do something wrong? Ohhh, I knew I shouldn’t’ve switched those two chairs when I moved in! They said this place was gonna be fit to my specifications exactly, and then I came in and saw the chairs and I went, “hey, maybe they’ll look better this way,” and then they didn’t! And now they’re gonna kick me out of Newtown, aren’t they?

RITA: No, Mista Mercury. We ain’t gonna kick you out. An’, we can help you move the chairs back if you really want.

MICK: (SOBBING) I already diiiiiiiiiid!

JUNO: So… h-hang on a second. This is exactly what we’re looking for!

RITA & MICK: (IN UNISON) It is?

JUNO: Yeah, it is! I– I knew there would be a catch. So, Mick, you’re saying that Newtown has these weird, inscrutable rules, right? And if you don’t follow them they kick you out?

MICK: Well, no, I didn’t—

JUNO: Ha! So much for a brand new world order, O’Flaherty; that’s got Fascist Renaissance written all over it!

MICK: Hey, Jay, listen—

JUNO: Fascist Renaissance, Fascist Renaissance…

SOUND: SNAPS FINGERS.

Torture devices! Executions! That must be what the carnival in the town square is all about—they open the doors… then public executions, to show Hyperion he means business.

MICK: Jay, quit it! There aren’t torture devices or whatever in the square, okay? I helped build some’a those. It’s just candy stands, and hologram light shows, and– I don’t know, just fun stuff!

RITA: That really does sound like fun stuff, Mista Steel!

JUNO: But– you were so worried about getting kicked out of Newtown. That must mean… y’know, that you’re scared here, right?

MICK: No way, man, this place is just great, and I don’t want to lose it. I’ve been waiting for the catch for a while now, but I can’t find it! This place is catch-free!

JUNO: You mean besides the whole completely-sealed-off-from-the-rest-of-society thing?

MICK: Well, they gotta do that for now, don’t they? I mean it’s competitive housing for now, sure, but, once they open this up and start expanding it, I mean, everybody gets a place like this. And it’s huge, Jay! And built just for us! People who can’t do heights get the first floor and—

JUNO: So where’s the liquor?

MICK: And… and… and… and… and…

RITA: Uh… Mista Mercury?

MICK: Uhhhhh, wh-what?

JUNO: You want to stay awake for like two seconds, Mercury? This is serious: the booze. If you got a place based on what you’re interested in—

MICK: I just, uh… I haven’t felt like drinking lately, I guess.

JUNO: You? Really?

RITA: That’s not such a bad thing, boss. Healthy, actually.

JUNO: What about your hovercycle? I didn’t see it coming in.

MICK: Who needs it? The buses here—

JUNO: I didn’t ask about need, Mick.

RITA: Mista Steel…

JUNO: You love that bike, Mick. Where is it?

MICK: It was busted. Dangerous, like… ughhh!

JUNO: Dangerous like what, Mick?

MICK: I mean… ughhh!

RITA: Mista Mercury… are you okay?

MICK: Yeah, I just… feel a little outta sorts. Headache or somethin’…

(CLEARS THROAT) I’m gonna get some more tea. That’s supposed to help you feel better, right? You just drink so much tea you feel like you’re gonna barf?

JUNO: Think that one through. Then you tell me.

MICK: Maybe I’ll think about it after I drink it… gotta take somethin’ for this headache…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

RITA: Feel better, Mista Mercury!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

Mista Steel, how come you’re bein’ so mean to your second-best friend!

JUNO: Because he’s a chump, Rita. I always knew he was a chump but it’s still disappointing to find out just how true that is.

RITA: Oh, come on, boss—

JUNO: You ‘oh come on!’ (GROWLS) Sorry, I’m just… disappointed. I really thought that he’d have the answer, or at least that… Ramses wouldn’t sucker him, too. Like he did me.

RITA: Aw, boss…

JUNO: Either way, I don’t think Mercury’s gonna help us with this one. And, we only have… twenty-one hours left. We gotta keep movin’.

RITA: But first…?

JUNO: But first nothing! All of Oldtown, hell, all– probably all of Hyperion’s on the line, and you want to ‘but first’ about my loser friend? No. Hell no.

Yeah, wow, that sounded pretty bad, huh?

RITA: Mmmmm-hm.

JUNO: I should probably just… apologize.

Fine. But, then we go.

RITA: Okay, Mista Steel.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Hey, Mick… Rita and I’ve got to go in a second, but I just wanted to say I’m…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Sorry…

Uh… uh… Mick? Where’d you go?

RITA: (DISTANT) Maybe he’s in the bathroom or somethin’?

JUNO: There aren’t any other doors back here. Just an… open window…

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

What the—

RITA: What the what, Mista—

JUNO: Rita, duck!

MICK: (YELLS)

RITA: (YELPS)

SOUND: BIG CLUNK.

RITA: M– Mista– Mista Steel, what was that?!

JUNO: That was… Mick?! Rita, get over here. Quickly.

RITA: O- okay!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

MICK: What the…

Hey, my couch is upside-down!

SOUND: HEAVY SCRAPING.

Are you guys havin’ a party in here without me?

JUNO: Hands up, Mick.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

MICK: Wh-whoa, there, buddy, be careful where you point that thing, alright? Rough-housing’s one thing, but—

JUNO: I said hands up!

MICK: (NERVOUS LAUGH) I think I mighta twisted my ankle, Juno. Can you help me up?

JUNO: Rita, don’t go any closer.

RITA: But why, boss?

MICK: Yeah. Why?

JUNO: This. Your voice. What you just did. This whole creepy apartment, it’s all wrong, Mercury, it’s all—

MICK: Me finally having my act together is wrong to you?

JUNO: That’s– not what I said.

MICK: After all we’ve been through? That hurts, Jay. That really hurts.

JUNO: What the hell is in your hand, Mercury!

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) What happened, Juno? I thought we were buddies.

JUNO: When you jumped at Rita you had something in your hand! Tell me what it was right! Now!

SOUND: POWERING UP, THEIA BEEP.

Mercury!

RITA: M-m-mista…

SOUND: GRUNT & THUD; RUNNING FOOTSTEPS; BLASTER SHOT; GRUNT; TWO BLASTER SHOTS; GRUNT.

Steel…?

JUNO (NARRATOR): It… (SIGHS) It all just happened so fast. At the time I thought it felt like that because I wasn’t expecting it. Because I never thought– I-I mean… it never actually seemed possible that he would—

(SIGHS) First he jumped clean over the couch.

SOUND: GRUNT, THUD.

Then he started to run at me.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Fast. It was faster than I’d ever seen him or… anybody else run. Ever. And in his eyes, I swear, in his eyes, I saw… absolutely nothing. So I fired.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

It should’ve been enough to take him down. A stun blast in the shoulder from that close could’ve taken down anyone, it had taken down goons twice as big as Mick and three times as angry, but– he kept running. All it did was push him off-balance a bit, just enough… for him to miss when he swung at me.

MICK: (GRUNTS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): It wasn’t a punch. It looked like a slap, but there was something small and metal glinting in his palm. I panicked. I— (SIGHS) I wasn’t thinking. He didn’t feel like Mick Mercury anymore; just some… monster, and that’s why… I shot him again.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

And again.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT.

Which all went this fast:

RITA: M-m-mista…

SOUND: GRUNT & THUD; RUNNING FOOTSTEPS; BLASTER SHOT; GRUNT; TWO BLASTER SHOTS; GRUNT.

Steel…?

JUNO (NARRATOR): …and ended with Mick, on the floor, motionless as a doll.

No, I noticed. Stiller than a doll.

Dead still.

And that’s when I realized what I’d done.

JUNO: Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh n…

SOUND: RUSTLING.

RITA: Is… is Mista Mercury okay?

JUNO: Get over here, Rita. Please. He-help me find his pulse.

RITA: His pulse?!

JUNO: It’s supposed to be a billion-to-one chance, Rita. A-and it gets worse with more stuns but still, I didn’t think it would ever– but-but I stunned him like three times, Rita, and I can’t find his pulse. Rita, goddamn it, I can’t find Mick’s pulse!

RITA: His heart?

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

I’m comin’, boss!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

I– I can’t find his pulse either!

JUNO: I gotta… uh, I-I gotta try CPR or something. But– but I barely remember, it’s been since the Academy, and… (BREATHES) Th-this is a nightmare, a billion to one chance, oh god damn it, this is a nightmare!

RITA: I can do CPR, Mista Steel. You just tell me when he’s breathin’, okay?

JUNO: You know– r-really?

RITA: ‘Course I do! Rita knows a lot of stuff. Just gotta find the right spot on his chest…

SOUND: RUSTLING. ELECTRIC SPARK.

JUNO: There! His heartbeat! I can feel his heartbeat again!

RITA: What? But I ain’t even start—

SOUND: SPARKS.

Ahhh!

JUNO: What happened?

RITA: It’s hot, Mista Steel! He’s got somethin’ on his chest and it’s really really burnin’ hot!

JUNO: He has… oh, no. Oh, hell no.

SOUND: FABRIC RIPS. RUSTLING.

RITA: Mista Steel you can’t just rip your friend’s shirt without askin’ unless this is just a thing for you two– oh my god what is that?!

SOUND: PULSING BUZZ.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It looked like a… computer chip. It looked like a little computer chip, with metal brackets rooted into Mercury’s chest. I could see it had something written on it but I couldn’t make it out: it was so hot, it was burning red, the skin around it was sizzling, and blistering, and cracking.

And then Mick’s hand moved. Just a twitch in the knuckles, but… enough that I knew we were almost outta time.

JUNO: Rita… we have to tie Mick up. Now.

RITA: Tie him up? But just a minute ago we wer—

JUNO: We don’t have time for this, Rita. Look at his hand!

RITA: Computer chips! Like the one on his chest!

JUNO: And he was trying to stick them on us.

MUSIC: STARTS.

(SIGHS) They say Theia on ‘em, don’t they?

RITA: I’m not sure, boss. I can’t—

SOUND: THEIA BEEP.

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) The Theia Soul is now online.

RITA: Ooooooooh!

JUNO: It’s too late to tie him up. Hide, Rita!

RITA: Where?!

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Jay! Rita! You’re leavin’ already?

JUNO: The balcony! Get out on the balcony and we’ll see if we can find a fire escape or somethin’.

RITA: But boss—

JUNO: No time!

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Stay there.

JUNO: Come on!

RITA: (MOANS)

SOUND: PANTING, RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. DOOR OPENS.

RITA: He’s still comin’!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES. WIND HOWLING.

JUNO: Hand me that chair, quickly!

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Give up.

SOUND: SCRAPING, CLINKS.

MICK: (CALLING, THROUGH THE DOOR) Juno! Rita! Come on, guys! You really gonna lock me out of my own balcony?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I tried to get a read on our surroundings, but it didn’t look good. No fire escape; the apartments were big, and– that meant the balconies were far apart. Nowhere to go, and, even if we managed to get out of here, it’s not like we had anywhere to hide—we were trapped here. Trapped in Ramses’s City of the Future, and Newtown liked it that way.

MICK: Come on, I don’t think this game is super fun. Why don’t you just give it up?

THEIA: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) Give up.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Was this really supposed to be O’Flaherty’s ‘good’? I didn’t know how to make sense of it. I didn’t know how to make sense of the fact that the chip that had turned my best friend into a monster had probably just saved his life, too. Ramses had decided that what we were all missing was a soul – and, I didn’t know how to make sense of the fact that so far… his plan seemed like it was working.

RITA: Mista Steel, what do we do?

JUNO: I… I don’t know, Rita. I don’t know.

MICK: Hey, I’ve got an idea! Why don’t you just give up.

THEIA: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) Give up.

RITA: (WHIMPERS)

MICK & THEIA: (IN UNISON) Give up control to the Theia Soul.

MUSIC: ENDS.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Joshua Ilon, Kate Jones, and Stefano Perti:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

STEFANO: …totally flip-flopped the script on me, one time a dentist called me trying to set an appointment. And, for like laser– free laser whitening. I was like ‘oh. Well hey, I’ll trade ya appointment for appointment.’ And the woman said ‘I dunno if we can do that.’ And then I said, ‘why don’t you put me on the phone with whoever can?’ And then she, uh, clearly faked putting her manager on the phone, and I said ‘hello?’ And then she just kinda got all befuddled and hung up. And s…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Camille Blanton, Garrett M, Atha Lang, Kim Zeugin, Jaimie Gunter, Fiona Parker, Jay Iannuzzelli, Ko, Canteloupe, Christine Kim, Regan, Charlie Spiegel, Karin Z-H, Ota Arcana, Rowan Collins, and Demi for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Man of the Future, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, Kate Jones as Rita, Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury, and Sophie Kaner as the Theia.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE SPIRAL SAGE (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the shores of the Terminus.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Spiral Sage.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: SWAMP AMBIANCE.

SIR ANGELO: (FADING IN) …You are certain that the lizard’s tracks lead this way, friend Talfryn?

TALFRYN: Sir Angelo, I already said that there aren’t any tracks.

ANGELO: Well, do you suppose you could find some?

TALFRYN: I’ve been looking, but… (SIGHS) If the monster that took Rilla’s as sneaky as Sir Damien says, it can probably move through its habitat without leaving tracks.

ANGELO: Well… have we tried teamwork yet? That always seems to win the day. Sir Damien, do you have some insight that might prove useful?

SIR DAMIEN: A monster with a heart… it isn’t possible, but how can I deny what I saw in his eyes, or in that hound?

ANGELO: Perhaps something that when combined with my strength, or, Sir Talfryn’s height—

DAMIEN: Or even in those nymphs, in their way… simple creatures, bloody creatures, but could one truly say evil? Ohhhh, Saint, right my course! This ship has lost its compass—

ANGELO: Alright, then! We’ll return to you, uh, later on! And friend Talfryn?

TALFRYN: Let’s just stop here for a second. I’ll see if I can find anything.

ANGELO: Yes! We default to your lead, master tracker!

TALFRYN: Don’t… don’t call me that. Please.

ANGELO: Hmm.

(WHISPERING) Sir Damien, do you see how the lad walks off? Shoulders tight, but posture slumped. What do you think ails him so?

DAMIEN: Perhaps he feels as though the world he’s woken up in has lost its every rule. That if monster-hounds be good, and foreigners make great leaders, the world’s spun off its course; ground floats above and we are falling, falling, into the swallowing sky below. O Saint, it all seemed so simple once—

ANGELO: No, no, I don’t think that’s it at all.

Aha!

SOUND: SNAPS FINGERS.

Confidence! That’s what the boy lacks, of course! It must be…

Begads! Why, Sir Damien! Your posture is just the same! I shall boost your confidence first, and then move on to young Talfryn afterwards. (CLEARS THROAT) First, I shall reassure you that you are one of the greatest monster-slayers in all the land!

DAMIEN: But should we slay them at all? And is it impure of me to question—

ANGELO: And an excellent poet!

DAMIEN: I haven’t worried about that in weeks. O, for that simpler time!

ANGELO: And I shall tell you that you are a very good person as well! Of clear moral standing!

DAMIEN: Do you really think so? Because—

ANGELO: And with your self-doubt settled, we will move on to Talfryn’s.

DAMIEN: But… could we linger on your last point for just for a moment? I’ve been unsure on that very issue for these past—

ANGELO: Young Talfryn seems lost without his brother. You don’t suppose that this is his first adventure without Marc? Did you see his expression when his brother had to stay behind in the swamp?

DAMIEN: And Marc! Ahhh, I misunderstood him for so long… or did I? He builds a flaming sword, but doesn’t maintain himself or his horse, gets waylaid in the swamp by a broken horseshoe! A great warrior, or a great buffoon?

ANGELO: A great boon is right! Friend Marc has given us an impressive tracker in his brother. But when they separated, the boy looked as though he might weep. And if he’s only ever quested with as impressive a warrior as Marc… well, it’s no wonder he’s not confident in his abilities as a hero. Why, he’s never been a hero before, has he?

DAMIEN: A hero! These days I hardly even know what that means. O Saint Damien, lend me your Tranquility… I have not felt it in weeks, now, and I fear I move further from you with every step—

ANGELO: Yes, that’s it! A hero is born when a hero is needed, and if Marc the mighty warrior has conquered every threat those two have come across, then the boy has had no practice! (CHUCKLES) There we have it, Sir Damien! We should take young Talfryn under our wing and teach him the ways of the knight! Surely that will restore his confidence!

DAMIEN: A sign, O Saint Damien, please, any sign that I’ve not lost my way completely…

ANGELO: On second thought, you seem very busy with… whatever goes on in there. So I’ll let you work those things out and train the boy myself! Just call if you need me! Sir Angelo away! Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

ANGELO: What-ho, friend Talfryn! Have you made any discoveries yet?

TALFRYN: Not really. I’ve found some big tracks here, though – like huge pig feet. I thought an ogre at first, but they come in a pair, and never get too far from one another, so it’s probably an oni of some kind… maybe Horcs?

ANGELO: If you’re feeling ill, I recommend you breathe deeply, my friend. A warrior does not vomit unless absolutely necessary!

SOUND: SWAMP AMBIANCE FADES OUT/RUNNING WATER FADES IN.

TALFRYN: No, I mean that’s what they’re… called… (SIGHS) They’re going north, though. Out of the swamp.

DAMIEN: Out of the swamp?

ANGELO: Then the scaly cur’s escaped! Drat!

TALFRYN: The ground’s dryer, there’s some sand scattered around… we’re probably close to another shore.

ANGELO: Not just sand, mind: salt, and a great deal of it. Why, these crystals are massive! Some of the most elegant specimens I’ve ever seen! Perhaps I’ll just carve off—

DAMIEN: The end of the swamp… that would suggest that we are due south of the Terminus… but if that’s really true…

…then we’re saved.

Ha-ha! Saved, my fellows, saved! If those beasts have led us to the world’s Northern edge, then they’ve guided our hands to their own unmaking! Don’t you see it, Sir Angelo, Talfryn?

ANGELO: But of course! With these impressive crystals of salt, we shall hew spears that sting unbearably even as they cut—

DAMIEN: Not! The salt!

No. No, my friends. We are saved by Saintly providence, for you see, the Terminus shore is the home of the Spiral Sage!

ANGELO: Ha-ha, yes! My favorite of the sages, as I’ve always said!

TALFRYN: Who– who’s the Spiral Sage?

ANGELO: Yes, Sir Damien, I can’t say I’ve heard of him.

DAMIEN: An old legend – all tales from the four ends of the world are old, as few men return from them alive. It is said that there stands a tower upon this shore built not of brick or wood, but of a single, spiral piece; and within that tower lives the Spiral Sage, an ancient prophet who can touch truth and time as easily as you or I can touch this sand.

ANGELO: Hmm.

SOUND: SAND/PEBBLES FALLING.

Why, that’s quite easy indeed!

DAMIEN: My parents spoke of his tale with all the reverence of the Saints, but, I admit, in my weakest moments I wasn’t certain he existed… even the four ends of the world seem so improbable from inside the Citadel…

Yet, here we are! If anyone can tell us where to find Rilla and how to free us from these monsters’ mind-warping magic, it’s him!

TALFRYN: But… I thought you said humans didn’t come out here very often. How’s an old man been living out here for hundreds of years?

DAMIEN: He’s immortal, of course. Mastery of time, Talfryn, you really ought to listen.

TALFRYN: But don’t monsters have that kind of power?

DAMIEN: Monsters and Saints, my friend. It’s actually quite simple: monsters break the divine rules that govern all things. Saints ask for permission from the powers above to bend those rules; and with that permission granted, they know their acts are good.

TALFRYN: But… how are you supposed to tell the difference?

DAMIEN: Faith, my friend. The recognition that we cannot understand all things, but that sense lies deep within them… even if it is beyond our capability to grasp it.

And that…! That’s what I’ve been missing! Of course!

TALFRYN: Uh, what?

DAMIEN: (LAUGHS) Well, onward, friends! A great miracle, this: a twisted world has found its shape again, and the Spiral Sage will reveal it to us!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

ANGELO: Come, young Talfryn! A true knight never refuses a challenge!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup… (FADING)

TALFRYN: But guys, how is Sir Marc going to… find us…? (SIGHS)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, PANTING.

Wait!

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: CROWD MURMURING.

BAILIFF: The humans will be given two more minutes to assemble their defense!

CAROLINE: I told you to stay calm.

RILLA: I… am. You’re the one who’s been talking at a thousand—

CAROLINE: What we need is strategy. A plan of attack. And we’ve two minutes to prepare it. You’re a doctor. How many people have you killed?

RILLA: Um, none!

CAROLINE: Not one! And they let you practice in the Citadel?

RILLA: What kind of doctors are you used to?

CAROLINE: Ah, no, that must be why you were exiled. A pity.

BAILIFF: Court will begin in one minute!

CAROLINE: We have no time, so I hope you’ve some wits about you. You must follow my lead on this, do you understand? I will listen to you on medical concerns—

RILLA: You haven’t so far.

CAROLINE: I will listen to you on medical concerns when you aren’t trying to trick me, but now that the law is our problem, we are in my realm, and you must follow my lead.

RILLA: I’ve been in court before.

CAROLINE: You have been in a Citadel court! You Northerners stay boarded up behind those walls so long that you forget you don’t comprise the entire world. But courts, legal systems, even punishments the world over are dangerously different and fatally similar. If you walk into this expecting to present evidence, answer testimony, and appeal to a jury of your peers, then you and I will be fed to the beasts in seconds.

I have been in courts across this world. Never a monster court, but… I at least know what strategies work consistently. And so we will use our wits, and you will speak only when prompted. Any questions?

RILLA: …You’ve been the accused in all those courts. Haven’t you?

BAILIFF: The humans’ time is up!

CAROLINE: Follow my lead. We’ll play dumb, glean their rules, and then talk circles around them. That is all.

JUDGE: Thank you, Bailiff.

(CLEARS THROAT) We will begin with opening statements. Humans, please proceed.

CAROLINE: First, most horrible Judge Helicoid, if I may ask a question: how are we to participate in your Court if we know none of its customs?

SOUND: CROWD GASPS.

RILLA: Sure sounds like you know what you’re doing.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

Ow!

JUDGE: Calm down.

SOUND: THREE QUICK CLAPS.

Quiet! I will have quiet!

SOUND: CROWD HUSHES.

(CLEARS THROAT) Humans: what you call ‘customs’ are strictly behaviors that you creatures keep – arbitrary agreements based on location and time period and it-hardly-matters-what-else have no place in this court. The universe has granted us free will and desires for a reason. So long as we do precisely what we please, we will be acting as the universe intends. And, thereby, will we ensure stability and balance for all.

CAROLINE: Except for the ones you kill.

JUDGE: Cannot a breakfast be balanced?

Therefore! This court has no rules. So long as we all do what we truly want, things will run smoothly.

CAROLINE: Well, that doesn’t make any sense to me. Herbalist?

RILLA: Agreed.

CAROLINE: Are you sure? It sounds quite a lot like the Saints nonsense your fiancé is always—

RILLA: I don’t think that makes sense either, but, it’s important to him so I try to support him.

CAROLINE: Too good of you.

RILLA: Thanks.

CAROLINE: Not a compliment.

BAILIFF: Silence, humans!

CAROLINE: I thought you said we could do anything we wanted?

BAILIFF: Well, not if it’s… not if it’s that!

JUDGE: (CLEARS THROAT) Mm. Yes. It’s clear that you creatures have lived under the yoke of customs too long; your ability, I say your very ability to act as you wish has atrophied. However, we do allow accommodations for the, um, eh… willfully impaired. Bailiff, would you be so kind as to tell them what they want?

BAILIFF: Of course, your Horror. Right now—

RILLA: That snot-thing? How is that fair? She clearly hates us!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

Ow!

JUDGE: Bailiff is an utmost professional, a golem of my own prophetic slime, created to enact the law. You can be assured that she will do her duty exactly as she wants to.

BAILIFF: I will be a model of objectivity and respect, your Horror! Now, the two turgid abominations of unsettling solidity wish to please step forward!

CAROLINE: Go.

SOUND: TWO FOOTSTEPS.

BAILIFF: And now, the two unreasonably bald apes wish to end their opening statement immediately!

RILLA: No, we—

CAROLINE: Yes, your Horror.

JUDGE: Very good, very good. Now, Bailiff: prepare the humans for testimony.

RILLA: What?

CAROLINE: Shh!

BAILIFF: In our court, the universe holds ultimate sway, and the universe has given us wants desires AND needs that we may act out what it most wants to see. It is our utmost duty to do as we wish, because that is what will keep the universe entertained, is that understood?

CAROLINE: Nearly. But if I could just ask—

BAILIFF: The four-appendaged freaks with skin like dried molluscs wish to tell their story immediately!

CAROLINE: (AFTER A PAUSE) Uhmmmm… what story?

JUDGE: The tale of how you arrived in this courtroom today, human. The universe will hear it, and if you truly have acted as you desire, it will find you belong here and let you go; if you have not, it will tell us the proper place for you.

BAILIFF: The creatures with perfectly good paws ruined by one fat finger which wiggles ever so should also be prepared for a question and answer session from the courtroom at large.

JUDGE: Oh: and do feel free to elaborate, pontificate, and otherwise linger on the most interesting moments, hm? We’ve still several hours before the sun sets and I do like a good show.

CAROLINE: Alright. We will tell our story with utmost respect for the universe’s will, your Horror.

(CLEARS THROAT) You see, I was to escort this doctor—

VOICE 4: (DISTANT, CALLING) Why did you stab me in the bum!

CAROLINE: …Excuse me?

SOUND: CROWD MURMURING.

JUDGE: You heard the beast. Why did you stab him in the bum?

CAROLINE: I… pardon me, your Circuitousness, but I thought we were to tell our tale now?

BAILIFF: The creatures with an irresponsible surplus of internal organs wish to recall the question and answer session they were informed of seconds ago!

CAROLINE: But shouldn’t that come after—

TROTTER: (CALLING) Quit dodging the question, man! We just wanna know why you stabbed the guy twice in his keister!

SOUND: CROWD GROWS LOUDER.

CAROLINE: Well, first – I would say that it wasn’t his rear that I stabbed—

VOICE 4: (DISTANT, CALLING) Yeah, it was!

CAROLINE: No. It was your stomach.

VOICE 4: (DISTANT, CALLING) That’s my bum!

CAROLINE: What even are you?

RILLA: (QUIETLY) Sir Caroline…

CAROLINE: Shut up!

PORCUS: (CALLING) Hey! I got one for ya: hey, girlie! How do your femurs taste?

PORCUS & TROTTER: (LAUGHING)

CAROLINE: I don’t know; I’ve never tasted them.

PORCUS: Eeee?

SOUND: CROWD BOOS.

CAROLINE: You can see them! It was an inane question to begin with.

TROTTER: (CALLING) You can’t say that! The pig’s got free speech, man!

VOICE 5: (DISTANT, CALLING) Yeah, sweets! Tell them what they want to hear! No matter how silly it is!

RILLA: (QUIETLY) No matter how silly… (LOUDER) My femurs… taste like candy! Like I’ve got, um, big candy… sticks, in my legs, like uh, uh…

VOICE 5: (DISTANT, CALLING) Like candy canes!

PORCUS: (CALLING) Candy canes, she says! Girl’s held up by candy canes!

SOUND: CROWD LAUGHTER.

CAROLINE: This. Is an embarassment.

RILLA: You made me wear the big pink flower!

BAILIFF: Settle down, please! Settle down! One voice at a time, now, thank you!

JUDGE: Thank you, Bailiff. Now, humans: what was your goal in infiltrating this courtroom, hmm? An espionage attempt by the human menace, perhaps, hmmmm?

VOICE 5: (DISTANT, CALLING) I’m bored of the human menace! Tell us what really happened!

SOUND: CROWD GROWS LOUDER.

BAILIFF: One voice at a time, one voice at a time—

PORCUS: (CALLING) Sure, one voice, and I want it to be candy-canes up there!

TROTTER: (CALLING) Yeah, man! Why’s she here? I like her!

VOICE 5: (DISTANT, CALLING) Tell us, sweets! If we all like you, the verdict can’t be that bad!

BAILIFF: Your Horror…

JUDGE: (CLEARS THROAT)

SOUND: CROWD QUIETS A BIT.

RILLA: I’m… um… we were just… as Sir Caroline was saying…

CAROLINE: (QUIETLY) Tell the truth, herbalist, and it’s your head.

RILLA: I… I mean, we’re in your court… because… uh…

Because of the lizard on trial before us! Because I think I might be in love with Lord Arum!

JUDGE: (GASPS)

SOUND: CROWD HUSHES.

I say! (GAGGING) I think I’m going to be ill.

SOUND: CROWD BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER.

TROTTER: (CALLING) Baaaarf, dude! This is too much, dude!

PORCUS: (CALLING) Ohhh, yer killin’ me, girlie! Tell us more!

RILLA: I wanted to kiss that lizard! I wanted to kiss him right on his scaly mouth. I was also thinking that might be a challenge because he doesn’t have lips, but I thought we’d… figure it out.

SOUND: CROWD LAUGHS.

BAILIFF: Settle down, please! Settle down!

SOUND: CROWD HUSHES.

RILLA: And I… I’m already in love with someone else, and I don’t love him any less because of this! If anything I love him more, because I appreciate all the things that make him one- of-a-kind! I love his stories, and his smile; I love that he makes me see the beauty in the hard questions, even when they make me uncomfortable. I love that he makes me grow, and when I look at Lord Arum I get the feeling that even… even a monster could make me grow, too, and, in new ways, different ways, like… a tree? With… branches? And they’re growing… different ways? Two ways? Forget it! The point is, I want to spend time with him and find out if that’s true!

TROTTER: (SNIFFLING) That’s… that’s beautiful, man.

PORCUS: (SNIFFLING) It is, ain’t it?

TROTTER: (SNIFFLING) Porcus, I feel like I don’t say this enough, dude, but I… y’know, I…

PORCUS: Yeah?

TROTTER: There’s no pig I’d rather be magically chained to for the rest of eternity, man!

PORCUS: Me neither, Trotter! Me neither!

PORCUS & TROTTER: (SOBBING)

SOUND: CROWD SOBBING.

JUDGE: How… very touching. (BLUBBERS)

CAROLINE: I am furious with you right now.

RILLA: Good.

BAILIFF: Your Circuitousness… that is, Most Horrible Judge Helicoid…

SOUND: CROWD HUSHES.

JUDGE: Yes, the human’s tale has moved me to tears, Bailiff. I’m but a monster, after all – if you tickle me, do not I laugh? If you prick me, do not I spew a steady stream of pus across the room?

BAILIFF: Yes, but your Horror! (WHISPERING) You have a message.

JUDGE: A message, you say? What strange– I say– eh, uh, who could I possibly—

Oh? Tell it to me! Quickly, quickly!

BAILIFF: (WHISPERS)

JUDGE: (OVER THE BELOW) Mmhmm… yes, mmhmm… hmm, hmm… them, you say? Really? …Well, yes, of course, plenty of time, plenty of… but– oh! No time at all, you say? Hmm, well, hmmm, well… Several hours to go, I thought…

RILLA: (OVER THE ABOVE) So I didn’t follow your plan. So what? We’re winning, aren’t we?

CAROLINE: (OVER THE ABOVE) Winning isn’t worth anything. I care only if we’ve won. And if you’ve jeopardized that then you’ve endangered many lives.

RILLA: So she cares about lives now, huh?

CAROLINE: It is my job. I am very good at my job.

RILLA: You say that a lot.

CAROLINE: And what, precisely, is that supposed to mean?

JUDGE: Well, I rather think that wraps things up for this trial. A lot of excellent work, everyone. The universe clearly has enough to go off—now, let’s hear its say and process the humans immediately.

SOUND: CROWD BOOS.

TROTTER: (CALLING) Bogus, dude! It was just getting good!

VOICE 5: (CALLING) Yeah! We want to hear more!

JUDGE: That’s enough!

SOUND: THREE CLAPS. CROWD HUSHES.

As entertaining as it might be to hear more detail, that is not what we are here to do. By wasting the time of this court, you are restricting our possibilities for future action, and are thereby guilty of Incarceration – one of our prime sins, I need not remind the court.

SOUND: CROWD MURMURS.

Therefore. We will now move on to Judgment, and then, Relocation. Bailiff, if you would.

BAILIFF: Yes, your Horror. The terrible pervert’s compatriot, and the aforementioned terrible pervert, wish to make way for his Horror’s slime!

CAROLINE: That we most certainly do.

RILLA: You’re giving up?

CAROLINE: I would point that particular accusation at the untrained herbalist who acted however the mood took her instead of sticking to observation and strategy.

RILLA: The trial was rigged, Sir Caroline!

CAROLINE: And I’ve made my way out of rigged trials before. Without interruption.

RILLA: Yeah, well, your strategy stunk, alright? I was just doing what the woman in the crowd was suggesting—

CAROLINE: What. Woman?

VOICE 5: Play for time, sweets! The sun’s on your side, but you need time!

RILLA: Her! The one who just shouted at us!

CAROLINE: I hear nobody except for you, herbalist.

JUDGE: Sunset draws near… very near, actually, which seems odd, and, court must close soon. So therefore…

O universe, speak through me, etcetera etcetera, ooooooooOOOooo judgment! (SNORTS, SPITS)

SOUND: BUBBLING.

(HISSING/GROWLING) The humans have wandered from their path. They must be sent to Fort Terminus immediately. I say, it must be done immediately.

SOUND: CROWD BOOS, BUBBLING STOPS.

RILLA & CAROLINE: (IN UNISON) What?!

JUDGE: Well, that wraps things up! That’s all, case closed!

SOUND: THREE CLAPS.

Now, guards, Porcus and Trotter, if you would be so kind as to transport the humans to their holding cell, we can get on with the next—

VOICE 5: Closing statements!

JUDGE: Hm? W-w-what’s that? Who said that, now, speak up, will you?

VOICE 5: The trial’s not over until we get our closing statements!

SOUND: CHIMES.

Yeah! Yes, yes! Yeah, I wanna hear the Judge talk! (CHANTING) Clo-sing! State-ments!

JUDGE: Well! Hmm, hm-hm-hm, well well. Closing statements, Bailiff, I can’t believe you didn’t remind me!

CAROLINE: Why is the snail talking to himself?

RILLA: He isn’t. You… really can’t hear her, can you?

CAROLINE: Really can’t hear who—

…Oh.

BAILIFF: Uhhh… but… uhh… but, your Circuitousness… the message—

JUDGE: Damn the message, Bailiff! I’m the Judge, hm hm, I’m the Judge himself, aren’t I? And the sun should take half an hour to set, so if my audience wants to hear me speak, well, let them!

SOUND: CHIMES.

VOICE 5: (OVERLAPPING) Infinite power and an infinite supply of mucous? Who says you can’t have it all! Oh, he’s such a nightmareboat, isn’t he? Shake that slime, baby! Yasss, Judge!

JUDGE: (CHUCKLES) Hm. You’re too kind, yes, you really are too kind.

CAROLINE: (GROWLS) Of course.

RILLA: Of course what?

JUDGE: Well, I’ll just, um… I’ll only be a minute now… and then, it will be time for your official sentencing. And then off the world with you, mmmmm, heh-heh-heh, yes… (COUGHS, CLEARS THROAT) My closing statement… is!

BAILIFF: Your Circuitousness! Look! Outside! It’s… dark!

JUDGE: Don’t be silly, Bailiff! The sun has barely begun to… to– to set…

Oh. Oh, dear me. So it is. Um.

SOUND: FIVE QUICK CLAPS.

Spiral court is now adjourned. We will open again for closing statements in the morning, thank you! Porcus and Trotter, the holding cells, please. Good night!

RILLA: Wh– what the…

CAROLINE: I’ll tell you exactly “what the,” herbalist. You have been taking advice from the only creature in this courtroom more dangerous than any monster. And you can be sure she’ll come knocking for you again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: RUNNING WATER.

DAMIEN: There! Do you see, fellows, in the distance – that spiral tower! (LAUGHS) The temple’s oldest legends would never lie! The great Spiral Sage will surely save us!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

ANGELO: What-ho! Rilla is surely saved!

TALFRYN: (WINDED) Yeah. Hooray.

ANGELO: Come now, Talfryn. I know that you’re the worrying type, but this must be cheering even for you, eh?

TALFRYN: No, I’m happy about Rilla, it’s just—

Do either of you hear anything?

DAMIEN: The tranquil breath of the waves, of course! Saint Damien’s blessing! Perhaps this shall be the path to my redemption!

ANGELO: Naught but the heroic beating of my heart, good Talfryn. And the impressive musical ring of this salt, hmm!

SOUND: BELL DING.

Such rare structure to these crystals! I think I’ll just take another little one.

DAMIEN: We’ve already stopped three times, Sir Angelo.

TALFRYN: No, no, I mean… I don’t hear anything. Nothing alive; no seagulls, no fish… not even any bugs.

DAMIEN: A hush often hangs upon a sacred place, Talfryn. Of course it’s quiet here.

TALFRYN: No. There are quiet days in the jungle or the swamps, and I’ve heard them. But this is different. This is… (MOANS)

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo… can we please continue—

ANGELO: Raising the boy’s confidence? An excellent idea, Sir Damien!

TALFRYN: Raising my what?

ANGELO: (CLEARS THROAT) Well, if you’re concerned, then let us discuss how to ensure the success of our mission, hmm? For example: how do you think your brother would approach this situation? He is a talented strategist, and I find I learn most when taught by my loved ones. Like Sir Damien. And Sir Caroline. And your brother. And—

TALFRYN: I don’t know what Marc would say. Probably something about how the shell isn’t big enough for him to waste his time on.

ANGELO: Hm? I’m afraid I don’t follow.

TALFRYN: That’s what he said the last time we talked. That the Salamander Sword was supposed to be his big finish, the thing he showed off at the very end of our quest, when he saved the day once and for all. Only now that finish wasn’t big enough anymore, ‘cause he already used it, and he needed time to prepare something bigger, that’d show ‘em, and he said I should go with you guys and help you find Rilla while he made something better, and—

ANGELO: Talfryn, Talfryn! These are merely jitters! First you say things are too alive, as with the nymphs, and now they are too quiet. If one fears sound and silence, why, one must always be afraid!

TALFRYN: That’s not—

Actually, that makes a lot of sense.

ANGELO: Then there is only one solution!

TALFRYN: Try not to jump to conclusions and find evidence to—

ANGELO: Have no fear of anything! Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup… (FADING)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

DAMIEN: Finally!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

TALFRYN: Okay. I guess a knight has… no fear. No fear… no fear… no fear…

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN. SLOW FOOTSTEPS.

DAMIEN: (QUIETLY) Saints above… we’ve really found it.

ANGELO: (CALLING) It smells rather like a barn in here!

DAMIEN: Hush, Sir Angelo! This is a sacred place; we are blessed to set foot in it.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Though, it does seem to have fallen into disrepair these days… but, such a holiness! Mother and Father told me about places like this one, but I never thought I’d be so lucky… I can feel the ancient power in my skin; even my hair stands at attention. Can you feel that, fellows?

TALFRYN: I… can, actually.

ANGELO: As can I. How tingly!

DAMIEN: Down here, you see, around the central dais, this must be where people gathered to ask of the Prophet his visions, in brighter, more reverent days than these. And that iron podium must be where the Spiral Sage makes his decrees!

ANGELO: Iron! Hardly! That podium is made of… well, it’s clearly…

Saints, I don’t know what that is.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

TALFRYN: So… we’re all just gonna… (SIGHS) Okay.

DAMIEN: And these tapestries on the walls… fascinating. A tale, perhaps…

ANGELO: Perfectly smooth, this material, and not a bit of give. An alloy of some kind, clearly, but… not steel. Interesting.

SOUND: CLANG.

Saints, that’s dense! Not even I could lift this!

TALFRYN: Sir Angelo… Sir Damien… is it really safe for us to just… wander in here?

DAMIEN: Stay by the door if you like, Talfryn, but I would be more afraid of what lives in those wilds than anything in a great Sage’s home.

ANGELO: Too true! Unless… Sir Damien, do you think a great Sage would have great house-centipedes? I can’t stand those things, with all their little legs and… ughhhh.

TALFRYN: (MOANS)

DAMIEN: These tapestries are… confusing. There must be some metaphorical meaning I’m not aware of. There’s the Sage, clearly, but he is surrounded by both humans and monsters.

Hmmm, surely the Sage will have the answer. But where could he…

Ah, a hidden door beneath this extremely wet couch! That must be the Sage’s secret chamber! Now, to move it. (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SQUISHY STRETCHING.

Wh-what is this… ugh!!

TALFRYN: What? What is it, what?

DAMIEN: My hands are stuck to this… couch!

SOUND: GOOPY STRETCH. HEAVY CREAKING.

(BIG YELL, OVER THE BELOW)

ANGELO: (OVER THE ABOVE) Begad, and now the couch is moving!

TALFRYN: (OVER THE ABOVE) Guys… I don’t think that’s a couch…!

SOUND: SQUISHES.

JUDGE: (YAWNS) What’s all that terrible racket? A Judge needs his sleep, I say, and it’s only…

Oh! It’s only sunset? How very odd… but court ended with nightfall, hem, hm, and that could not have been more than a few hours ago.

DAMIEN: Saints above… I’m stuck!

JUDGE: Who’s stuck?

SOUND: SQUISHES.

Who? Who are you? Where are you, you pest, you annoyance, you…!

(SNIFFS, GROWLS) Human! An invisible human somewhere in this room?

ANGELO: (WHISPERING) Ah! An excellent opportunity! Now we will see how one of the Citadel’s strongest warriors dispatches this beast! Watch Sir Damien’s strategy closely now, Talfryn!

TALFRYN: Okay…

JUDGE: Where are you? I say, where are you?!

SOUND: SQUISHES.

DAMIEN: (YELLING, OVER THE BELOW) BaaaAaaaAAaaACK yOOOoooUUuu fffiiiEEeeeEEennnd!!

JUDGE: (OVER THE ABOVE) Confound that racket! Confound it, I say! Where is this yelping little so-and-so; show him at once!

TALFRYN: S-sir Angelo! Sir Damien’s in trouble! You have to save him!

DAMIEN: (YELLING, OVER THE BELOW) HeeeeEEeeEEEeelllPPPP!

ANGELO: (OVER THE ABOVE) Do you think so? He seems to have that slimy fellow in quite the headlock.

TALFRYN: He’s just stuck to the back of its head!

DAMIEN: (YELLING IN BACKGROUND)

ANGELO: And besides, man, you say I must save him? You misspeak, young Talfryn: a true knight respects unity, togetherness, teamwork. There is no Sir Angelo in team!

TALFRYN: He really seems like he needs help, Sir Angelo, so I think you should probably just—

SOUND: HEAVY, SQUISHY FOOTSTEPS.

ANGELO: You must be more confident, my friend. You could slay the beast just as easily as I.

TALFRYN: Uh, no.

ANGELO: And why not?

TALFRYN: Do we have to talk about this right now?

ANGELO: A good instructor always listens, and now, I am listening.

DAMIEN: (YELLING IN BACKGROUND)

TALFRYN: (AFTER A PAUSE) I’ve never killed a monster before, okay? I’ve helped, but I’ve never… you know. Now can you go save Sir Damien, please?

ANGELO: Never killed a monster before! Why that’s… that’s…

…just the thing I’ve been looking for.

TALFRYN: Um, that was really foreboding and everything and I’m sure you had a good reason for it, Sir Angelo, but I’m worried Sir Damien’s gonna break his neck if that snail keeps it up, so—

ANGELO: You! Slime monster! Cease that shaking at once and fight me, beast!

JUDGE: Hmmm?

SOUND: SQUISHING STOPS.

More humans! An infestation! My privacy, I say, a complete violation of my privacy!

DAMIEN: (PANTING, DIZZY) Sir Angelo… watch out… he’s very… sticky…

ANGELO: Oh I know, my friend. I know. (QUIETLY) That’s precisely my plan. Hmm hmm!

TALFRYN: Maybe you shouldn’t say your plan out loud?

ANGELO: Stand still, beast. A true warrior approaches now.

JUDGE: A true warrior? A human?! (LAUGHS) I haven’t feared a human in centuries!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

I say, you do not scare me, little creature! You are nothing!

B-b-blast you, say something! I do not f-f-fear you! The universe speaks through me, you know?

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

ANGELO: Prepare to meet your end, beast.

JUDGE: (YELL OF FEAR)

ANGELO: (BATTLE CRY)

TALFRYN: Whoa.

ANGELO: (BATTLE CRY STOPS) Oops! An accident! I have… tripped! Hup!

SOUND: SQUELCH.

TALFRYN: Wh… what?!

JUDGE: Oh. That was… simpler than expected.

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo.

ANGELO: Sir Damien!

DAMIEN: Did you. Just get yourself caught. In this monster’s slime?

ANGELO: Ha ha, of course not! It was but an accident!

…Is what they will think, when in reality I have given my young pupil the opportunity to prove himself a great hero!

TALFRYN: No… n-n-n-no-no-no-no-no…

JUDGE: He does know we can hear him, doesn’t he?

ANGELO: Ha ha! They will call me Sir Angelo, the Strong of Body and Teaching!

DAMIEN: I… am less certain of that than you, my friend.

TALFRYN: Sir Angelo! H-how am I supposed to do this? I’m not even a knight!

ANGELO: Not with that attitude, you aren’t! Just follow my guidance and all will be fine!

JUDGE: Yet another human?

SOUND: SQUISHES.

Reveal yourself, boy! You are alone; you stand no chance against this Judge!

DAMIEN: It’s alright, Talfryn! Remember that we are in the Sage’s tower; the beast must have him locked away in here! Find him, quickly, and we shall surely be saved!

TALFRYN: The Spiral Sage… right! If he’s that powerful, he can save us!

JUDGE: Sage? A Spiral Sage, you say? (CHUCKLES TURNING TO FULL-ON LAUGHTER)

DAMIEN: You won’t be laughing when he destroys you with his divine power, demon!

JUDGE: Hem hem! And what, if I may ask – what is this Sage’s name?

DAMIEN: Sage Helicoid, of course!

JUDGE: (BAHAHAHAHAHA)

TALFRYN: …Oh no.

JUDGE: (PANTING) No, no, please, no more, please, ohh, uhh…

Insignificant one, you’ve been misinformed. I am Helicoid, the Spiral Judge!

DAMIEN: No- no- no…

TALFRYN: Oh no oh no oh no oh no.

ANGELO: Then it’s up to you, young Talfryn! You can do this! Just follow my instruction!

JUDGE: Yes, please, my boy, listen to your teacher. (CHUCKLES)

ANGELO: These quarters are too cramped to fight well – you must gain more advantageous ground! To the door! Fight this beast outside!

TALFRYN: (WHIMPERS)

ANGELO: Don’t just stand there! Run!

SOUND: LOW RUMBLING, SQUISHES, HEAVY CREAKING.

JUDGE: I think not.

But, I do thank you for the tip, human. This will be settled quickly, I think.

TALFRYN: H-he’s blocking the exit!

DAMIEN: Because you didn’t move!

TALFRYN: Bu-but- but he’s so b-big and if I g-get c-caught it’s all over and-a and- and—

ANGELO: That sounds like thinking, Talfryn, and we have no time for thought! Instincts are the means by which we move straight to action without once touching our minds. Listen to your instincts, friend! And remember: no fear!

TALFRYN: No fear… no fear… no fear…

JUDGE: Ah. There you are, my boy. (SNORTS, SPITS)

TALFRYN: No; fear.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

(YELLING, PANTING)

JUDGE: My hidden chambers! Get back here! Contempt! Contempt, I say, this is contempt! (FADING OUT)

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: GRUNTING, FOOTSTEPS FADE IN.

PORCUS: Aaaaaaand in ya go!

TROTTER: Close it, man, close it!

SOUND: BANG. DRIPPING WATER/CAVE AMBIANCE.

TROTTER: (PANTING) Close shave, dude. That one can really thrash.

CAROLINE: Fight me, swine! Get this slime off my hands and fight me!

PORCUS: (SQUEALING LAUGHTER, SNORTS) Y’know, I almost like you humans. It’ll be too bad when we bring you to the Fortress and toss ya off the edge of the world tomorrow. (LAUGHS)

TROTTER: Hey man, are you sure that’s kosher? ‘Cause, uh—

PORCUS: Yeah, okay, so the trial ain’t technically over, Trots; but all the Judge has to do is say like five words and then we’re done.

TROTTER: Nah, brah, not that. I thought we didn’t toss ‘em anymore? Like, weren’t we gonna put ‘em in the work—

SOUND: THUD.

Ow!

PORCUS: Shut up, ham-brains! And let’s get out of here before you really mess up!

CAROLINE: This trial won’t be the end of us. Do you hear me?

TROTTER: Don’t count on it, dude! Judge Helicoid isn’t gonna lose track of time twice!

PORCUS & TROTTER: (LAUGHTER FADES)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

CAROLINE: And give me back my sword, you cowards! Ugh. This is your fault, herbalist.

RILLA: Me? How?

CAROLINE: Because you didn’t listen to me. Because you decided to listen to that… that creature in the audience.

That’s right! I know you’re out there, so show yourself! Witch!

VOICE 5: (ECHOING LAUGHTER)

SOUND: HARP STRUM.

Meanie. (GIGGLES)

CAROLINE: I knew it. Meddling in official duty. Citadel law states that I could run you through for this.

VOICE 5: Oh—with what, your hands? Ohhh, those hands do seem quite strong, though. Forget I said anything.

CAROLINE: So this is how you’re going to play it, then.

VOICE 5: Playing! Oh, I love games – when I win them. Have I won yet?

CAROLINE: Listen to me: you are not wanted here. We neither require nor desire your assistance. So if you can cloak your voice from me, you can cloak the rest of you as well and get out of here.

RILLA: But… wait. Why would she only hide her voice from you?

CAROLINE: Hmph.

VOICE 5: Oh, just look at that face, sweets. Look at how much she hates me! Wouldn’t you hide?

CAROLINE: I don’t hate witches. They just. Don’t. Belong. Here.

VOICE 5: She’s no fun to talk to. How ‘bout you, babe? Can a little lost witch get some hospitality? Just a scootch?

CAROLINE: Don’t do it, herbalist.

VOICE 5: I’ll start by doing better than her: I’ll call you by your name. Enlighten me?

RILLA: Rilla. And you?

VOICE 5: Rilla! Pretty, pretty Rilla. Mine is always Quanyii, no matter how much of my physical form I change, so please don’t get confused. Oh, I know that sounds boring, sweets; but even when you’re trying to keep things fresh, something has to stay the same or you might… lose yourself entirely. (LAUGHS)

RILLA: New forms? So, are you… a monster?

VOICE 5 [QUANYII]: No. No matter how hard I try. Though I think I’d get sick of being a monster eventually, too – call me restless. Curious. Gorgeous.

CAROLINE: No.

QUANYII: Oh, she’s shy! Stop it, you’re making me blush! (BLOWS A KISS)

RILLA: But if you’re down here… then you got past the guards!

QUANYII: I did! They’re all dozing at their posts as we speak, dreaming sweet little vandals’ dreams. They’re so cute when they’re unconscious.

RILLA: Then you can get us out of here?

QUANYII: Get out of here? No, no, Rilla, you’re thinking about this all wrong. Neither of you wants to get out of here. Not really.

CAROLINE: Of course we want out of this cell. What’s your game, witch?

QUANYII: The cell, of course, but the prison? I don’t think so. Because I hear that there’s a reptile you’re both after, and guess where he happens to be?

RILLA: In the prison. Arum, you know where Lord Arum is?

QUANYII: I do.

RILLA: And you can help us find him?

CAROLINE: Herbalist…

QUANYII: Not only can I, sweets: I’m very bored today! And it sounds like just the thing I feel like doing. If the price is right.

CAROLINE: I knew it.

RILLA: The… price?

QUANYII: Don’t worry, babe, I know what you’re thinking: can I really afford a witch? In this economy? And I’m happy to say that you can, no matter how poorly doctors are treated in the modern day—low pay, long hours, exile, you poor thing—because witches don’t trade in money. We trade in favors.

CAROLINE: Rilla.

RILLA: Favor? What kind of favor?

QUANYII: Nothing big! Just a percentage. Once you find this lizard-lord… (CHUCKLES) Well, we’ll just talk it over then.

RILLA: You aren’t going to hurt him! Because I– I… I have to talk to him.

CAROLINE: And I’ll be the only one hurting him, thank you.

QUANYII: Please, you absolutely stunning ladies, please. The pay is negotiable. I won’t take anything either of you want. We’ll discuss what you’re after… and then I’ll decide what favor I’ll take.

RILLA: I guess… if we decide together, then…

CAROLINE: Herbalist!

A word.

QUANYII: Not unless that word is ‘yes.’

CAROLINE: You are not invited!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RILLA: What is your problem? First you tell me I got us stuck in here, then you—

CAROLINE: You have never been in debt to a witch before, herbalist.

RILLA: Well, I don’t see any other option.

CAROLINE: You might not see it because you’ve hardly looked. This is serious.

RILLA: So what? Suddenly you care about what happens to me?

CAROLINE: I am a knight of the Citadel. Your safety is—

RILLA: Supposed to be your top priority. But where was this in the swamp? Where was this when you threatened to execute me, or kept me walking on a broken ankle, or kept interrogating me every second of the day?

CAROLINE: The monsters are destroyers, Rilla. If there was even a chance that you had fallen in league with them—

RILLA: So it’s your job. And who cares what happens to the people right in front of you, so long as you get to keep your job – is that it? I’ve known you for days now, Sir Caroline. We have the same home. We even have the same weird, complicated relationship with that home, and it is literally your job to help me, and guess what? I’ve known this witch for less than an hour and I still have more reasons to trust her than you! You failed.

CAROLINE: (HUFFS)

RILLA: Quanyii.

QUANYII: Hm? Oh, am I invited to the party again?

RILLA: I want to take your deal. We’ll… figure out payment later. Just get us out of here.

QUANYII:

In the interest of fairness, I should warn you: it’s not going to be easy. The Judge’s sweet little boogers brought the lizard deep within these halls: to Fort Terminus. (GIGGLES) But that shouldn’t be bad news for you, Sir, should it? That sounds like exactly like what you wanted, in fact. And I can be very good at giving people what… they… want.

CAROLINE: Yes. Fine. Let’s just go.

QUANYII: Oohhh, a jailbreak, just us girls! How exciting!

SOUND: CLAPS.

Alright, then! Hocus pocus, ladies.

SOUND: HARP STRUMS. DOOR UNLOCKS, CREAKS OPEN.

Now let's go have some fun.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Jason Mellin, M Sutherland, Matthew Zahnzinger, and Glenn Moore:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

JASON: …there’s also all these additional characters: the Judge, uh, Porcus and Trotter– y’know all of these different smaller characters are finally gonna show up. So what I wanna know from you guys is – either as actor or like, from your character’s perspective, either one – we are definitely spiraling, ah yeah, there it is, uh, towards a narrative… point here, um, which is specifically, all of our characters getting to meet Lord Arum. So, I’m curious what—

MATTHEW: Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

JASON: —what are you, uh, hoping will happen…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Camille Blanton, Ota Arcana, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Spiral Sage, was told by the following people: M Sutherland as Sir Angelo, Jason Mellin as Talfryn, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Leslie Drescher as Sir Caroline, Melissa DeJesus as Quanyii, Glen Moore as Judge Helicoid, Stewart Evan Smith as Porcus, Michael Underhill as Trotter, Kate Jones as the Bailiff, and Joshua Ilon, Kat Buckingham, and Simon Moody as the ensemble.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE SPIRAL SAGE (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the shores of the Terminus.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Spiral Sage.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: SWAMP AMBIANCE.

MUSIC: STARTS.

RILLA: Research log. It has been two days since the knight Sir Caroline and I met in the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms. We are no closer to finding Lord… lizard’s Keep than when we started. (SIGHS) And yet, we walk for hours each day. My injury has gotten considerably worse in the time since, as—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

SIR CAROLINE: (DISTANT) Herbalist! You will stop that this instant!

RILLA: I want this entered as evidence when we return to the Citadel. If this thug isn’t discharged—

CAROLINE: Give me that!

RILLA: (YELLING) End of log!

SOUND: SPLASH. RECORDER CLICKS OFF.

CAROLINE: So this is what I get for showing you kindness, hm?

RILLA: If I don’t have crutches, I can’t walk!

CAROLINE: Then perhaps you oughtn’t break them so often.

RILLA: Okay, just… there are so many things wrong with that. First off—

CAROLINE: Oh, spare me.

RILLA: If you actually let me rest for a day to build them, like I told you I needed, I might be able to make something that would last more than a few hours in a swamp! And second, the sticks you’re bringing me are trash! I can hardly support my weight on—

CAROLINE: Then grit your teeth and do it anyway, because these are the only sticks you’ll get until you find us that lizard.

SOUND: BRANCH SNAP.

(GRUNTS) You said you knew where the lizard lives in this swamp. Yet we’ve walked nearly from one end of it to the other by now and I’ve seen neither hide nor scale of him.

RILLA: I’m not a tracker, Sir Caroline. Maybe we should just go back to the Citadel and—

CAROLINE: I’ve told you this line won’t work with me.

RILLA: —and tell them what we know! You really want to fight a monster war alone? You don’t have any, like, friends or anything?

CAROLINE: Are friends the only thing you Northerners can talk about?

RILLA: Well, it’s better than having none!

CAROLINE: Enough.

RILLA: (GASPS)

SOUND: DISTANT FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

CAROLINE: I have seen not one manipulative monster in days, herbalist. I have a duty.

MUSIC: ENDS.

I’m quite good at it. And if I don’t find a monster to slay soon, perhaps I’ll just have to—

SOUND: TREE CREAKING.

RILLA: Sir Caroline! Move!

CAROLINE: What—

RILLA: (GRUNTS)

CAROLINE: (GASPS)

SOUND: TREE FALLS.

VOICE 1: (GROANS)

VOICE 2: (LAUGHING)

VOICE 1: Hey wise guy, what the hell was that?

VOICE 2: Maybe you should watch where you’re goin’, dude.

RILLA: (WHISPERING) Do you think they see us?

CAROLINE: (QUIETLY) No. And if you want to keep it that way, shut up.

VOICE 2: Come on, man, let’s go!

SOUND: PUNCH, THUD. RATTLING.

VOICE 1: Oof! Ohhhhhhhh, I don’t feel so—

SOUND: CRUNCH.

(SQUEALS)

VOICE 2: Porcus? Uh-oh.

VOICE 1 [PORCUS]: Owww, oww, oww! Aw, ya busted my ham-hocks, Trotter! Ya broke every bone in my body, ya skinny little—

SOUND: MORE CRUNCHES.

(SQUEALS)

VOICE 2 [TROTTER]: Okay, okay, alright, just… hang on, bro, we’ll be back at the fort in no time, and… f-for now just think happy thoughts, like, how those bug-ladies are gonna cry when they find out we took their—

SOUND: PUNCH.

(GASPS)

SOUND: PUNCH.

What the hell, Porcus?!

PORCUS: Whassamatter? Big pig fall down go boom? (LAUGH-SNORT) Look who’s master prankster now!

TROTTER: But I heard you break your—

PORCUS: Those were human bones, dummy! (LAUGHS)

RILLA: (GASPS)

SOUND: CRUNCHING.

TROTTER: Dude, my nosh! What gives?

PORCUS: Mine now! (CHOMPS)

(GARBLED, MOUTH FULL) Besides, you need to put on a few tons, and ya ain’t gonna do that on bones. You’re gettin’ skinny, Trotter.

TROTTER: This bod is chiseled, dude! Don’t get all beefy just ‘cause you’re jealous.

PORCUS: Beef ain’t the problem! Peak performance means pork belly! You’ve got no fat on you!

TROTTER: Peak performance, huh? (GRUNTS)

SOUND: CLANG.

PORCUS: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: THUNK.

Take one more step and I’ll pound you to bacon bits!

TROTTER: Try me, brah!

PORCUS & TROTTER: (SQUEALS)

SOUND: CONCH SHELL BLOWS.

PORCUS: Moron! We’re gonna miss the trial ‘cause’a you!

TROTTER: Hey man, you got all aggro, so—

PORCUS: Just shut up and let’s go! I wanna see that lizard get what’s comin’ to him.

RILLA & CAROLINE: (IN UNISON) Lizard?!

TROTTER: (CHUCKLES) This is gonna be so choice, dude. See him try and wiggle his four twiggy arms outta this one!

PORCUS & TROTTER: (GUFFAWS, SNORTS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

CAROLINE: And with four arms… no more whining. We’re following those pigs, so get up and—

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

There she goes. Hmm.

I thought you said this lizard was in the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms.

RILLA: He was.

CAROLINE: Well, those hogs are headed due north, towards scrubland and sand. What lies north of the swamp?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. SWAMP AMBIANCE FADES.

RILLA: No clue.

CAROLINE: No clue? Aren’t you from here?

RILLA: Biologist; not a cartographer.

It could be… the northern edge of the world.

CAROLINE: I suppose the distance would make sense.

Loose sand, less noticeable life… a desert?

RILLA: I don’t think so. Damien told me so many stories about it a long time ago, but… he must have gotten bored of them, because I haven’t heard any of those stories in a while. He goes through phases like that.

CAROLINE: Then I suppose “my heart shall burst without my fiancée” and “oh mummy the scaly little lizard’s gone and cast a spell on me” are just phases, then?

RILLA: No, the heart bursting is pretty common, but…

A spell? Damien really said he cast a spell?

CAROLINE: Who knows what that man says? Half of it’s metaphor and the other half is bad metaphor.

RILLA: But—

SOUND: CONCH BLOWS.

Huh?

PORCUS: (DISTANT) Damn it, Trotter, if you don’t hurry up we’re gonna miss the verdict!

TROTTER: (DISTANT) The courthouse is right there, dude! Chill out!

CAROLINE: The pigs are just through this brush. Stand back; I’ll clear us a path.

SOUND: METAL CLANGS, LEAVES RUSTLING.

(GRUNTS)

RILLA: Courthouse?

CAROLINE: And… there!

SOUND: RUSHING WATER.

RILLA: Saints above!

CAROLINE: Beach. So that frothing water out in that sea must be… the edge of the world.

RILLA: The Terminus. An endlessly-replenishing ocean… that ends in a gigantic waterfall off the side of the world. (QUIETLY) Saints. It’s… hard to look away from, isn’t it?

CAROLINE: Stop it. This is indecent. The Southern Edge in the Frosts has mountains. At least then you don’t have to see it.

RILLA: Yeah, that sounds… better.

SOUND: CONCH BLOWS.

VOICE 3 (FROM SPEAKER): Attention, please, attention! The Judge has finished his deliberations! The trial of Lord Arum will resume in five minutes’ time, with the verdict. Please do not be late, thank you!

RILLA: The trial of… we have to get in there.

CAROLINE: Not just yet.

This lizard really lights a fire under you, doesn’t he? Why, exactly, do you need to see him so badly? He just kidnapped you.

RILLA: I… I just… I need to find out if he really cast a spell on Damien. I need to find out what happened between them, because—

I just do, okay?

CAROLINE: (SNORTS) And how do you plan to ask him? Walk right up, knock on the door, and request a moment of his time?

RILLA: No. …That shell doesn’t even have a door.

CAROLINE: What shell?

RILLA: (SIGHS) The one those pigs walked into, obviously! Now let’s—

CAROLINE: You mean the courthouse?

RILLA: It’s a gigantic sea shell. A wentletrap, probably; you can tell by how tall and thin it is, and the spiral striations—

CAROLINE: I don’t care about the striations, that is clearly a building! A tall tower! It has a skylight!

RILLA: Yeah, well, that’s because… I mean, obviously…

(SIGHS) Are we just going to stand here asking questions, or are we going?

CAROLINE: Putting yourself on the line might work when you’re testing skin cream and cough syrup, herbalist, but with monsters we need strategy. Some… means to stay hidden. To observe, then strike. Aha!

RILLA: You’re not going to—

CAROLINE: We are!

SOUND: RIPPING/CRACKING, GRUNTS.

Help me with this.

RILLA: But it’s so… pink.

CAROLINE: You will help me turn this into a disguise or I will leave you outside.

Alright, then. Let’s get to work.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: CONCH SHELL BLOWS. CROWD MURMURING.

CAROLINE: Do you have your petals in place? If you give away my flawless camoflage, I’ll—

RILLA: Sir Caroline. You cut two neck holes in a big pink flower. We look ridiculous.

CAROLINE: As do they. Your point?

RILLA: I—

CAROLINE: I don’t care. Just follow my lead and act like this monster would.

RILLA: Constantly embarassed?

CAROLINE: We’re entering in three… two… go!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RILLA: Saints, this is… a lot of monsters.

CAROLINE: Hundreds of them. So many trophies for the taking. (LAUGHS) Where do you think you’re going? (GRUNTS)

VOICE 4: Oww!

RILLA: I’m trying to get a better look.

CAROLINE: By wading into the crowd and cutting off our only exit? I don’t think so.

VOICE 4: Excuse me…!

RILLA: Sir Caroline, I can’t see anything.

CAROLINE: Well, then, here’s a description for you: a circular room with a lot of monsters in it, a dais with a garish metal podium, and overly-busy tapestries on the walls. Everything clashes and it’s awful, the end, now be quiet.

RILLA: Can we just move? I can’t see the trial!

CAROLINE: And I can’t care. We will not draw attention to ourselves.

VOICE 4: Excuse me.

RILLA: Maybe we’d draw a lot less attention if we weren’t bright pink.

CAROLINE: If you are so insecure in your femininity that a little pink makes you—

VOICE 4: Excuse me!

CAROLINE: What! What is so important that you have to butt into our business, you—

…I have no idea what you’re supposed to be.

VOICE 4: You are stepping on my foot.

CAROLINE: That’s a foot?!

RILLA: I’m sorry about that. Two heads means a… split personality. She’s the rude one.

CAROLINE: And she’s the stupid one.

VOICE 3: Monster Court is now in session! Silence, please, silence!

CAROLINE: Now do you mind? I’m trying to watch the trial.

VOICE 3: We return now to the sentencing of Lord Arum, here accused of “breach of contract,” “destruction of things that belonged to him but really sort of belonged to all of us when you really think about it,” and “criticism.” Lord Arum!

LORD ARUM: (SIGHS) Present.

RILLA: (GASPS)

VOICE 3: And all attend to Judge Helicoid!

SOUND: THREE QUICK CLAPS. STRETCHING.

JUDGE HELICOID: The universe… speaks through MEEEE!

SOUND: CROWD OOHS. BUBBLING.

JUDGE: And also: I am present.

VOICE 3: And I, the Bailiff-golem, am present. The universe now presiding, Judge Helicoid now transmitting, si-lence!

JUDGE: Thank you, Bailiff.

CAROLINE: Is that the judge?!

SOUND: SLIME GOOPING, SQUISHING.

RILLA: Can you at least tell me what’s happening? I can only see the judge’s couch… that big slimy strip?

VOICE 5: (GIGGLES) That’s not his couch, babe. That’s the Judge.

RILLA: Who are you?

JUDGE: Loooord Arum. This court is not a place for personal bias, and so my opinion cannot matter in this case. And yet. I must say that I find your conduct… disgusting.

VOICE 5: (LAUGHS) You can’t see it, sweets, but that was funny because he’s a snail.

RILLA: And you’re a human.

JUDGE: You have destroyed, I say, destroyed the Moonlit Hermit, and thereby your ability to fulfill your contract. Repeatedly, you’ve shown that you care not at all for our Law; and I say to you, sir, that I find you repellent.

RILLA: They have laws?

VOICE 5: He said law. Just one: full freedom for all, and everyone gets to do whatever they want.

RILLA: So their only law is… no laws.

VOICE 5: Call me when you find a system that makes more sense. Or… any sense.

RILLA: Then why would they need a court?

VOICE 5: What do you think happens when one monster prevents another from doing what they want? They need a performance, to make it all look fair, before they side with the more powerful of the two.

JUDGE: And all this time, Lord Arum, you have stood there, in silence, making a mockery, I say, a mockery of this court; and also making me – me! – feel very self-conscious!

Do you have anything to say for yourself, Lord Arum?

RILLA: (AFTER A PAUSE, QUIETLY) Come on, Arum… what are you doing?

JUDGE: Very well, then. Bailiff.

VOICE 3 [BAILIFF]: We move on to Judgement! And then… Relocation.

RILLA: “Judgment?” “Relocation?” What does any of that— ow!

CAROLINE: Stay quiet!

RILLA: You made her hit me.

VOICE 5: (CHUCKLING) Oh, wow: you’re really cute, aren’t you?

JUDGE: And now… Judgment! (HUMS)

(CHANTING) O listen, now, by this shell’s winding whorls, by the slime upon my skin—

SOUND: BUBBLING, GRADUALLY GETTING LOUDER.

—O universe, I speak to youuuuu! This creature has wandered from his place, and so show him, universe, where he belongs! Ooooohhh! Ooooohhh! JUDGMENT!

(SNORTS, SPITS)

RILLA: Ugh.

VOICE 5: Oh, sweets, it gets so much worse. Listen to the bubbles.

RILLA: The bubbles?

CAROLINE: Stop talking to yourself!

JUDGE: (DEEP BREATH, THEN HISSING) Judgemennnnt…

RILLA: (GASPS)

CAROLINE: Ugh!

JUDGE: (HISSING/GROWLING) This lizard’s lost his line. We would return him where he list, could we. But his ambition is lost; his heart’s in others, now. You ask his course? You ask his place? O Helicoid. O trusted child. Lord Arum has neither.

SOUND: CROWD GASPS.

VOICE 5: Oh. Well!

BAILIFF: Shhhh!!!

JUDGE: (HISSING/GROWLING) A creature with no place in this world has but one fate. Fort Terminus calls, O lizard-Lord. Your weight unbalances; so from the scale you must be tossed entire.

ARUM: (GRUNTS)

RILLA: Was that… his sentence?

SOUND: BUBBLING FADES.

VOICE 5: I-I’d rather not say.

RILLA: Why?

JUDGE: Well, then. I have, um… hmm. Yes. Well. (CLEARS THROAT) Lord Arum. You understand the fate the universe has demanded?

ARUM: I do.

JUDGE: I hope you understand that… we do not enjoy this. But if your very existence impinges upon our freedoms, well—

ARUM: I said I understood, tktktktktktktktk.

JUDGE: Ahh. Do you have any… final statements?

ARUM: Let’s just get this over with.

JUDGE: Quite. Bailiff, if you would unlock the path to… well, you know.

BAILIFF: Yes, your Horror.

SOUND: BUBBLES, SLITHERING.

JUDGE: Now. A moment of silent thanks to the universe.

RILLA: Why don’t you want to say?

VOICE 5: Because. I don’t like to make a pretty lady cry.

RILLA: Was it… a death sentence?

VOICE 5: If the convicted has been a very good bat or ghoul, perhaps. But nobody knows what happens after they… (SHUDDERS)

RILLA: Then what’s going to happen to him?

CAROLINE: The creatures are staring, herbalist! What are you doing?

VOICE 5: It’s terrible! Are you certain you want to know?

RILLA: Please. I have to!

CAROLINE: Shut up!

VOICE 5: I have goosebumps just thinking about it.

RILLA: Just tell me!

CAROLINE: Who must you insist on yammering to?

SOUND: RUSTLING, YELPS.

VOICE 4: I say, excuse me!

RILLA: Can you back off? I’m just talking to…

…she’s gone.

CAROLINE: You were talking. To yourself?

VOICE 4: First you step on my foot, and now you talk and jostle ever so! Such rudeness as I have never seen!

CAROLINE: If you don’t shut up you’ll beg me to go back to rudeness, you hideous… thing! And as for you, herbalist—

Why has it gone so quiet?

RILLA: Uhh…

JUDGE: May we continue?

VOICE 4: Yes, Judge Helicoid! Deepest apologies, Judge Helicoid!

JUDGE: Very well.

Now. Lord Arum!

(CLEARS THROAT) Loooooord Arummmmmmmmm!

Oh, d– really, now, the– the least you could do is look at me when I’m speaking to you.

ARUM: W-w-what? …O-oh, apologies, your Horror. I was just looking at that… noise.

On second thought, most horrible Judge Helicoid, I think I would like to have those last words after all.

JUDGE: What? But– you– already said… and I– I’d already prepared my statement, and—

ARUM: I have done monsterkind some service, your Horror. Whatever threat to individual freedoms I may pose now, I think the perspective of the monster responsible for the weapon that will undo the humans’ Citadel should prove useful for the individual interests of the monsters in attendance.

JUDGE: Yes. Well… even so, my freedoms—

ARUM: And, to deny those present words that might interest them would constitute censorship, your Horror. Which is one of the great sins, as you know.

SOUND: CROWD MURMURING.

JUDGE: Well. You’re very talkative now, aren’t you? During your trial you couldn’t even muster up a grovel.

Go on; go on.

ARUM: Thank you, your Horror.

Assembled beasts. It is true that I destroyed the Moonlit Hermit. And it is true that I was under contract to use that same flower to birth weapons for use against the human infection that persists in these Northern Wilds. To these broken promises I admit full fault; and they alone are certainly enough to have me sent to Fort Terminus.

And yet. I urge you, as free-thinking monsters, to remember that this is not all I’ve done. My actions will live on after me, and I hope you will evaluate them individually; regardless of what you may think of me, tktktktktktktktk.

JUDGE: Very pretty, Lord Arum. Now—

ARUM: And what actions are those? Well! Let’s make a list of them, shall we?

JUDGE: There’s really no need; we already—

ARUM: First! I found the Moonlit Hermit, and though the Senate did vote that I should create tools against the humans, they did not specify how. Given time, I could still make weapons… though certainly not as quickly as my initial prototypes via—

JUDGE: Yes yes yes; we’ve discussed the Janus Beast and… that loud, amphibious thing with the voice. Failures both, Lord Arum. Quickly, please.

CAROLINE: I knew it! The lizard’s the source of those manipulative monsters!

RILLA: Arum… why?

ARUM: And second: one of my experiments has been accepted by the Senate as their plan of attack against the humans. It is the most powerful of my creations, and as we all know, the Senate is planning on using it as soon as it leaves its cocoon, and that very moment, the Citadel will be taken. Which will be in just a few days. So if it was going to be stopped, it would have to be before it leaves its cocoon, because—

JUDGE: Irrelevant. The grubs you presented to the Senate had a significant design flaw; and though it has been solved, you did not solve it. This is a poor defense, my boy, and a confusing one, given as it is after the verdict—

ARUM: And finally, this:

I granted… two of the most beautiful blooms in the world their freedom – the freedom to do what they most wished, no matter the pain or consequences to me. It is not even half- forgiveness for what I’ve done, but… I did what good deeds I could when I saw the opportunity. That is all.

JUDGE: Two blooms?! You– had… did you have two Moonlit Hermits, Lord Arum?

ARUM: No. It was just… a metaphor.

JUDGE: Well, what did it mean?

ARUM: I choose not to say, tktktktktktktktk.

JUDGE: Well! I choose to say that I found your closing statement began with promise, and then meandered and lingered until not a one of us could follow it in the slightest, and I choose to recommend that you tighten your focus, lad. Good! Now that that’s out of the way, I shall make my closing statement. Listen closely, my boy, and I will show you how it’s done. (CLEARS THROAT, SNORTS) Looooord Arummmmmm—

BAILIFF: The path has been opened, your Horror! It is time now for the repugnant reptile to—

JUDGE: Well! I suppose nobody’s going to let me have my big finish, are they?

BAILIFF: Um… uh, but, you asked me to…

JUDGE: Oh, don’t give me that snotty face, Bailiff—

BAILIFF: With all due respect, your Circuitousness, I am made of your mucous.

JUDGE: Just… cease this immediately! I’m trying to make my concluding statement, and not one of you is paying attention! So be quiet! And listen! (CLEARS THROAT, SNORTS & HOCKS & SPITS) Lord Arum, I cast you out unto Fort Terminus, where… that is to say, the universe has decided that… (GRUMBLES) The moment’s just gone, isn’t it?

ARUM: It seems to be, tktktktk.

JUDGE: Then just get out of here so they can throw you off the edge of the world. Dismissed.

SOUND: THREE QUICK CLAPS. CROWD MURMURS.

Porcus and Trotter! You may lead the prisoner away.

TROTTER: Not us, man!

PORCUS: We’re off-duty! It’s in our contract!

JUDGE: (GROWLS) Fine. Bailiff. Duplicate and then lead Lord Arum away.

BAILIFF: Yes, your Horror! (STRAINING)

SOUND: STRETCHING, POP.

BAILIFF (DUPLICATED): Yes, your Horror!

SOUND: BUBBLES, SLITHERING.

RILLA: No… Arum!

CAROLINE: If you don’t stop gibbering, herbalist—

VOICE 4: Do be quiet! You’ll get us in trouble again!

CAROLINE: You. Listen.

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

This knife of mine is very, very, very sharp: honed just for shearing skins like yours. And unless you want to find out how well I’ve sharpened it, you will mind. Your. Business.

VOICE 4: (STAMMERING)

CAROLINE: Herbalist, I’ll want a full report on whatever you think you saw when we leave here. But first we must wait for our exit. Hm?

RILLA: Sure.

JUDGE: Yes! Well! That trial was certainly memorable, though I thought that the accused did smack a bit of selflessness toward the end. Urghhh! That always leaves such a taste! But, at any rate, the business is done. Who’s next, Bailiff?

BAILIFF: Ehm… well, you see, most Horrible Judge Helicoid, looking at the crimes brought to us before sunup, if I may tally the list in full, let’s see, ah, there’s one, two, four, nine, three…

None, your Circuitousness.

JUDGE: None! Good, good. Let’s get this None character up here and hear their story, shall we? None! I say, None! Old beast, step forward!

BAILIFF: Oh, ehm… no, your Horror; I’m afraid that I mean, um… we’ve no more trials for today.

SOUND: CROUD GASPS, MURMURS.

JUDGE: (CHUCKLES) Well, but of course that’s absurd, Bailiff! Quite absurd. The Spiral Court does not conclude until the sun sets; it is the will of the universe.

BAILIFF: But even so, if there are none accused—

SOUND: BUBBLING.

JUDGE: I did not misspeak, Bailiff. The Spiral Court is not dismissed until the universe wills it. Through me! At my bedtime.

SOUND: BUBBLES STOP.

BAILIFF: (NERVOUS LAUGHTER) Lardlings and fenfolk, boils and globs, the Spiral Court will now have an open call for grievance, guidance, and… uh…

Would any beast present like to accuse another beast, also present, of… anything? Please?

VOICE 4: (GASPS)

CAROLINE: Say a single word, beast, and your stomach will be my sheath.

RILLA: It… might be a little too late for that. They’re all kind of… looking at us.

VOICE 4: I would like to make an accusation!

CAROLINE: (HISSING) Tattle-tale!

SOUND: STAB.

VOICE 4: (PAINED) And now I would like to make two accusations!

JUDGE: Seize that fabulous ogre immediately!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

CAROLINE: Let go of me! Let go of me or I’ll tear your grisly appendages off, you—

RILLA: Sir Caroline, you have to stop struggling! The disguise—

SOUND: FABRIC RIPS, THUDS. CROWD GASPS.

BAILIFF: Ohhhh, that’s horrible, ohhhh, I can’t look. I think I’ll be sick, my Judge.

JUDGE: Yes. The sight of humans makes me quite ill as well. (CHUCKLING)

BAILIFF: Humans?!

RILLA: Uh-oh.

CAROLINE: Indeed.

JUDGE: Bring them forward immediately. I dare say the universe will have… quite a bit to say about these creatures’ proper place.

SOUND: FIVE CLAPS.

Spiral Court is now in session!

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast.

You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Camille Blanton, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Spiral Sage, was told by the following people: Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Leslie Drescher as Sir Caroline, Noah Simes as Lord Arum, Glen Moore as Judge Helicoid, Stewart Evan Smith as Porcus, Michael Underhill as Trotter, Kate Jones as the Bailiff, Melissa DeJesus as the unknown voice in the crowd, and Joshua Ilon, Kat Buckingham, and Simon Moody as the ensemble.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE LONG WAY HOME (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Juno Steel and the Long Way Home.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: WATER DRIPPING, RIPPLING.

THEIA: (DISTANT, OVERLAPPING) Target located. Alerting central office. Exchanging map data. Sector is clear. Recharging. Recharging.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Here’s a lesson that never sticks, no matter how many times you learn it: even when you’re not around, the world keeps movin’ without you. Never feels that way. When you leave, you take a frozen version of the place with you in your head, and that feels real, but… then you get back and find the place is melting right in front of you.

SMALL FRY: (WHIMPERS, QUIET BARKS)

JUNO: Yep, I’m pretty wiped too, Small Fry. How ‘bout a snack break?

SOUND: SPLASH.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I remember these sewers as an escape, if you can believe it. When things got too rough topside I would lose myself down here, where things were simple. Where the monsters looked like monsters, big furry ones with long teeth and mean eyes. They were scary, but… that was part of the escape.

SMALL FRY: (IN BACKGROUND) (BARKS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): When you’re so young you think monsters are the scariest things out there… what could feel better than teaching the boogeyman to eat out of the palm of your hand?

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: Whatsamatter? You don’t like salmon chips?

SMALL FRY: (YIP!)

JUNO: Don’t tell me you’re picky.

SOUND: CRUNCHING, CHEWING.

(GARBLED, MOUTH FULL) Aw, man, these’ve got the freeze-dried soy dust and everything! You’re outta your mind, Small Fry.

SMALL FRY: (SNIFFS & SNORTS)

JUNO: Oh, what’s that? Now you want one?

SMALL FRY: (SNORTS)

JUNO: That’s what I thought. Take the bag, it’s yours.

SMALL FRY: (GRRRR)

JUNO: (SIGHS)

SOUND: CRUNCHING, CHEWING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I wonder sometimes if having that escape as a kid felt a little too good. Like I’d go underground and feel like all the world’s horrors could be tamed, then, come back up and think that feeling should last forever. It felt like I could make it last forever if I tried. But, things change.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

SOUND: CREAKING.

JUNO: What’s the matter, Small Fry? You hear some… thing…?

THEIA: Target sighted.

JUNO: Damn it! Get in…

…that pipe, quickly! Hide under my coat!

SMALL FRY: (SNUFFLES)

THEIA: Target recognized. Target is—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Juno Steel, yeah.

THEIA: —Juno Steel. Directive: do no—

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE) Do no harm, Mayor O’Flaherty requests my presence, you can’t capture me nonviolently so I’m supposed to go there on my own, that it?

THEIA: (AFTER A PAUSE) This is your only—

JUNO: Right, thanks, almost forgot, this is my only warning. I’m workin’ on it now, but thanks for the reminder, bye!

THEIA: Farewell. Juno Steel.

SOUND: CREAKING FADES OUT.

JUNO: (QUIETLY) Going… going, aaaaaand gone. Psst!

Hey kid! Coast is clear!

SOUND: HEAVY CREAK.

Small Fry?

SOUND: SPLASHING.

…The hell is this?

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

Another room?

SMALL FRY: (SNORES)

JUNO: (GASPS)

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

…Oh.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The rabbit was asleep. Just… tuckered out.

Then I felt the exhaustion piling on me too, so I sat and let her nap awhile. And if I got some rest out of the bargain, so be it.

Small Fry had found a good hiding spot. The pipe I’d shoved her into led through a shattered wall, which opened up into another one of the sewer’s old chambers. Must have been a false start from some earlier construction job, walled-up so it’d just go away, but… that never kept anything hidden forever, did it?

The Theia bots were tearing this place apart, and soon one would find Small Fry. But even if they did clear out and we did get outta here, what the hell was I gonna do with her?

MUSIC: STARTS.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye, and that means I’m supposed to reserve my blaster for whoever pays my bills. Money hasn’t mattered to me for years, but even so, it… was a rule, and rules are comfortable.

I keep feeling like I don’t know any of the rules anymore, but… I need ‘em. Because if you try to save every sorry soul who hops into your life…

…that might make you a hero, and… right now I’m not sure there’s anything worse.

MUSIC: ENDS. STARTS (FROM COMMS).

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Welcome back to Questions Unanswered: Where is Jack Takano? Tonight’s episode: Part 11 – “The Mask.”

Jack Takano was famously a very private man: until the end of his time at Northstar, he never kept a home address on file, or spoke to anyone about his friends and family outside the company. Even his face was private, as Founder and CEO of Northstar Miranda Fairbanks wrote:

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): It was known around the office that Jack daily wore makeup thick even by Hyperion’s standards… I once came into the office quite early to find that he had fallen asleep, drooling, onto his desk and hand. It was almost sweet… until he moved that hand and a layer of skin peeled off his face, only to reveal another, much paler skin beneath. Or so it seemed, until I saw the foundation smudges on the table. When I woke him, he covered his face, mumbled something about not looking decent, and ran off to reapply. A skin condition, he told me later. I never bought it. The difference between the skin beneath and the mask over it was so extreme that it seemed like there was another man under there, buried alive.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): But even a man with a hidden face can’t hide everything. Takano may not have left an explanation for his disappearance in his famous farewell note, but his coworkers did notice a change.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Well, we all expected something was going to happen. Just not… something that extreme.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): What about his behavior seemed like the first sign, Dr. Vega?

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Isolation, first. Irritability, some days, although he’d always apologize soon after. But I think the first unquestionable sign for me was Andromeda 3.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): If you didn’t see Andromeda 3 at release, it’s unlikely you ever will: the film was panned so universally that Northstar established an Anti-Informations Department just to erase every copy they could find. Or as one reviewer put it:

VOICE 6 (FROM COMMS): Schlock and drivel. Its characterization is so flat it approaches concave. Its pacing makes death seem a fond alternative. And worst of all, it appears Takano has no idea what made Andromeda so compelling in the first place, and what remains are only echoes of the Turbo nonsense that nearly put Northstar into its early, and perhaps deserved, grave. Takano needs to get his head out of building tourist traps and back into telling stories, because this was clearly rushed.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): The only thing atypical of this review is its lenience: the reviewer gave Andromeda 3 the highest rating we could find. But that last sentiment, that the film was rushed, is repeated by nearly every review on record, despite the fact that it is completely untrue.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): I don’t think I ever saw Jack work harder on a project. Besides the park, obviously.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): That’s Jocelyn Chen, former Head of Animation at Northstar.

MUSIC: ENDS.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): I remember seeing pages of script and sketches of Andromeda 3 a few weeks before the first film came out, but he was never satisfied. It was just rewrite after rewrite with him.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Was his process similar for Chainmail Warrior Andromeda or Sea of Sinners?

CHEN (FROM COMMS): Not at all. He had full storyboards for both ready when he first pitched the project, and he only had a month on those. But the third one… I don’t know. He kept talking about the responsibility, and… I tried to help, but, the pressure must’ve gotten to him.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): You came under fire for that film, too.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): I did.

I– I wasn’t mad at him for having writer’s block. I was mad at him for not listening earlier, for not giving us something, anyway. I had to steal his notes just so we could start work on time for a sloppy release, and… that was the only time I’ve ever heard him get angry.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): A recording of Takano’s tirade was leaked a few months after Andromeda 3’s release:

SOUND: BACKGROUND STATIC.

JACK (FROM COMMS): We are doing something important here. Am I the only one who sees that? Am I?!

CHEN (FROM COMMS): Jack, we have a deadline—

JACK (FROM COMMS): Damn the deadline! You’re exactly the problem, Jocelyn, focusing on the smallest issues when you should be solving the big ones, taking the solution now over the solution that works– DO NOT SPEAK while I am speaking!

No. Keep the damn notes. It’s too late already.

SOUND: STATIC FADES OUT.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): The company could have scrubbed this leak like they erased the film, had Takano himself not acknowledged it, in a press conference the day after it spread:

JACK (FROM COMMS): …I would like to apologize, of course. I’ve already apologized to Jocelyn, but, like it or not I’ve been thrust into the public eye; and as a result, my responsibility extends to each and every one of you.

SMALL FRY: (SNUFFLES & SNORTS)

JUNO: Mmm… quit it.

SOUND: WATER DRIPPING, BUBBLING.

JACK (FROM COMMS): Three years is not a very long time to grow old, and, yet I find that, compared to the early days of Andromeda, I feel precisely—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) I said quit it!

JACK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —how I expected an old man must: very tired, and only slightly more wise.

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

JACK (FROM COMMS): What strikes me as most beautiful about Andromeda is how she works not just on the world, but also on herself. Tirelessly. When Andromeda discovers that her magic chainmail is empowered by the suffering of others, she sees immediately how this might corrupt her… and she steels herself against it.

I see now the power I have in Northstar. And I see the heavy responsibility that power bestows upon me. We will use it for good, from here out. For Polaris.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

SOUND: SLAP.

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Damn it, Rita, I’m taking a nap, you—!

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) Takano’s apology was very well received—

JUNO: …Oh.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE BELOW) —as Jocelyn Chen recalls.

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE) Small Fry. Right.

SMALL FRY: (GROWLS)

CHEN (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE BELOW) He could do that, apologize and have all forgiven—

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE) What’s the matter, kid, you hungry?

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

JUNO: What the hell? Get off me!

CHEN (FROM COMMS): —really forgiven. You could always tell he meant it, that it really had eaten him up inside. He—

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

SOUND: CLICK, COMMS CUTS OFF.

JUNO: The hell?

Did you… take my comms? Out of my ear?

SMALL FRY: (BARKS, GROWLS)

JUNO: Don’t eat it!

Well, looks like we’re awake now, doesn’t it? Here, come close. You just put it up to your ear like this, and—

SOUND: FEEDBACK SCREECH.

JUNO & SMALL FRY: (PAINED YELLS)

JUNO: God dammit, what did you do?

SMALL FRY: (WHIMPERING)

JUNO: You know how long it took me to figure that thing out? Now look, it’s wet and it stinks and I can’t even listen to it and I don’t know where anybody is or what the hell I’m gonna do to keep you safe and—

SOUND: PLOP, SPLASH.

There. It’s trash now. Just like this whole stupid idea. Whatever.

SOUND: SPLASHES. DISTANT FEEDBACK.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: I told you, the comms is broken.

SOUND: FEEDBACK STOPS. ELECTRONIC SCROLLING.

JUNO: You’re just gonna hurt yourself. Make it explode or something.

SMALL FRY: (GROWLS)

SOUND: BEEPS.

JUNO: Damn it, don’t you listen?

SOUND: ALARM BEEPS.

It’s busted. See?

SOUND: JINGLE (FROM COMMS).

VOICE 7 (FROM COMMS): Welcome to your comms. Please enter your name.

JUNO: Wait, what?

SMALL FRY: (GROWLS)

JUNO: You… there’s no way you know how to use this. You can’t.

SMALL FRY: (YIPS)

JUNO: Alright, take it.

SMALL FRY: (RRRRR!)

SOUND: BEEPS.

JUNO: No. Way.

SMALL FRY: (GRRRS, YIP!)

SOUND: LOUD JINGLE (FROM COMMS).

VOICE 7 (FROM COMMS): (VERY LOUD) Bienvenue à votre comms.

JUNO: (HISS OF PAIN) Nevermind! (SIGHS)

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: But… you did have it for a second.

SOUND: BEEPS.

SMALL FRY: (SNUFFLE, GROWLS)

JUNO: No, no, I’m gonna try this time.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: And, uh… thanks, Small Fry. I needed that.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO (NARRATOR): While I messed with that comms I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about Rita. She’d been telling me what Small Fry just had for years – that I didn’t need her to set everything up, that I wasn’t even trying, and… I’d yell at her that I got it, but I was just busy. And then sit alone, like an idiot, while she set up my comms, my monitor, everything.

Ma never let us have that stuff. And then I just got too proud to admit I didn’t get it, and… I got better and better at asking other people to work around me, I guess. Anyway, I… had the thing up and running again soon.

SOUND: BLIP.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): We may look backward only to ensure we have not walked this path before.

JUNO: Yeah, thanks, big guy.

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: Just… give me one more minute.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Maybe I’d gone mad with power, but… I had an idea, and I was hungry for another win. I knew the comms could get on the net, and I knew the sewer system’s layout was a public document. The rest was just guesswork. Learning and mistakes.

SOUND: ERROR BEEP.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

SOUND: ERROR BEEP.

Aghhhh!

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): …a whole lot of mistakes. But, still.

It took me an hour to do what Rita could’ve done in two seconds, but, I was proud of it.

SOUND: BEEP.

JUNO: Ha! Got it! Look, it’s a map, and I think I found a manhole that’ll take us…

SMALL FRY: (SNORES)

JUNO: …out of the… sewer.

Hey. Hey, c’mon, Small Fry. C’mon.

SMALL FRY: (SNUFFLES AWAKE)

JUNO: We gotta go, kid. I think I found a way out of here. And after that…

We’ll have to figure that out together, I guess.

SMALL FRY: (MEWLS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I split the comms so I could carry it in my hand and my ear at the same time. It was gonna be a hike to get to that manhole leading out of the sewer, and… to Oldtown.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (FADING IN) The year between Andromeda 3’s release and the opening of Polaris Park marked a shift in how Northstar was run. Takano removed himself from the film production process completely, hiring previously-terminated Northstar writer Kenni Okombe and rock-star-slash-poet Rajavi to co-write Andromeda and the Dragon’s Peak, based on some of Takano’s early sketches. In the meantime, Jack Takano redoubled his efforts on Polaris Park, and though he spent many, many hours in that office – staying for days or weeks on end, according to some – his coworkers saw him less than ever.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Always in his office. It was as though we’d taken on a staff hermit. (LAUGHS) Not that it was a funny situation, of course, Jack was clearly troubled. But, well… we all just thought that if the tortured genius needs his space, give him his space.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Many of Takano’s former coworkers expressed similar sentiments. But not Jocelyn Chen.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): Everyone always said yes to Jack, and it wasn’t good for him. So when he started hiding, working himself sick, all that… I wasn’t having it, and I said so.

He gave me some line… something about how he had to figure out the problem by himself, that he couldn’t compromise on the park any more than he already had. And I said, “Jack, you can take all your toys, and go hide in your room if you want. But if you keep working like this, you’re going to get yourself killed, and—”

After that… after I said that, he just… looked at me and waited. Like I hadn’t gotten to my point yet. Like that wasn’t even enough reason t—

Anyway. I ended the conversation there, because I wasn’t getting anywhere. But clearly he wasn’t done.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Ms. Chen is referring to a public charity event at which Takano spoke to raise funds for Martian fire departments. Though the speech was largely typical of his optimistic oratory, there was a tangent that was met with confusion in the press:

JACK (FROM COMMS): But the most beautiful thing about Andromeda, I think, is… that she always goes it alone. She recognizes that heroism is a blessing for the world and a curse for the hero, who must live with the weight of every decision they make, the pain of every loss they fail to prevent. And yet she never stops. And she never shares this burden with another, because she knows it is better for one to suffer than two. Goodness is her charge. And she lives up to it alone.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): Which isn’t even true. Aries, the Ramblers, Captain Cancer, Queen Pisces – by that point, Andromeda had relied on others twice a movie! Well, minus Andromeda 3, but… (SIGHS)

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Jack never spoke to me directly about his design problem, but I could see it amongst the lines, as it were. Something at the core of Polaris Park had gone wrong for him, somewhere. Some of his work orders implied that the problem had come from compromises he’d made, and so he tried hiding the gift shops, changing the logo so that ‘Polaris’ was much larger than ‘Park,’ that kind of thing. Then a week later, all those orders would be undone, and he clearly felt that the problem came earlier than his compromises… from the park’s initial contraception, perhaps.

I knew that he expected me to decode that subtext. I like to think I was rather a confidant for him in that way – the only one he could undress even part of his heart to.

SOUND: WATER DRIPPING, RIPPLING FADES IN. DISTANT BOOM.

SMALL FRY: (BARK BARK!)

JUNO: Huh?

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Despite Dr. Vega’s claims, the work orders we’ve unearthed state Takano’s frustrations directly to every head of every department. Polaris Park was not doing what it was supposed to – though Takano was never clear about what its actual purpose was.

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM.

JUNO: What the hell was—

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): And as Takano tried to solve it—

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM.

—the days to Polaris Park’s opening – and the man’s disappearance—

SOUND: TWO DISTANT BOOMS.

—drew closer and closer.

SMALL FRY: (BARK BARK!)

SOUND: CLICK, COMMS CUTS OFF.

JUNO: Shhh!

JUNO (NARRATOR): We were close to the exit by then. There was just one last pipe we had to pass through, one big enough to stand and walk in. We hadn’t heard a Theia bot in half an hour; it was quiet here.

Until that thumping started, down at the end of the pipe.

SOUND: DISTANT BOOMS.

As quickly as I could I searched the wall around me for weak spots – cracks, openings, anywhere at all to hide – but there were none. This thing had picked the one solid spot left in the entire Oldtown sewer system to corner us.

SMALL FRY: (WHIMPERS)

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM.

JUNO: (QUIETLY) Get behind me, kid, it’s alright. You’re gonna be alright.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The noise kept coming. I tried to make a plan: hide Small Fry in the sludge and try to talk my way out? No, the Theia bots were chatty, and she couldn’t hold her breath that long. Take a shot at it before it saw us? Maybe, but I doubted I could connect without a Theia on my side.

It got closer.

SOUND: SPLASH.

And closer. And then it rounded the corner.

SOUND: SPLASH.

?????: (GROWLS, PANTING)

SMALL FRY: (YIPS & BARKS)

JUNO: A rabbit…? Alive?

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

RABBIT: (GROWL-BARKS)

JUNO: You know him. You know that rabbit, don’t you?

SMALL FRY: (YIPS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): So, that was it, then. Some of the rabbits were alive. I’d brought Small Fry home, and… I felt just… awful.

Looking into her big black eyes, one hand on her matted fur, I realized I already cared about this little rabbit. Protecting her made me feel useful, and loved, and… it was hard to put that away.

I let myself live in maybes for a second. A little rabbit munching snack food under my desk. A big one asleep in the corner of my office – ‘the muscle,’ I’d call her, but really… her name would be Small Fry. Even when she got huge.

I never really would’ve taken her, not really; but… it was nice to pretend, for a second.

JUNO: You can trust that big fella over there?

SMALL FRY: (BARK!)

JUNO: Then go home, kid.

Go home.

SOUND: SPLASHING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So I watched her hop away. She seemed… happy.

RABBIT: (IN BACKGROUND) (GROWLS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): And that’s when the big rabbit ran over and socked me in the face.

RABBIT: (ROARS)

SOUND: PUNCH.

JUNO: Oof!

SOUND: BIG SPLASH.

H-hey, come on! I know you were scared, but—

SOUND: PUNCH, SPLASH.

Oof!

The hell do you want from me? Money? I got creds, but you have to get off me—

RABBIT: (ROARS, GROWLS)

SOUND: PUNCHES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how the rabbits were. They’d never turn down creds and they never made those noises and they were never… this angry.

I reached for my blaster. But the rabbit had a desperate quickness I’d never seen before and in a second my gun was spinning over his shoulder.

RABBIT: (ROARRRRRR)

SOUND: PUNCH. PLOP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The rabbit reared back to howl. He still had crumbs and frosting in his fur, big soft belly for scratching, just like all the rabbits I knew. But this one was burned, too. Charred trenches of fur and skin running along his sides, part of one ear gone.

And he looked… so scared. Pissed-off and powerless; like if he couldn’t pin down and punch all those Theia bots, or the human race, or death itself… he was ready to settle for me.

I still had my plasma knife, but I couldn’t stab him. I couldn’t let Ramses make me kill again.

RABBIT: (ROARS)

SMALL FRY: (SQUEAKING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): Small Fry ran up to the rabbit and tugged on his tail. The rabbit nearly jumped out of his fur, and didn’t even look behind him before he kicked one of those huge legs back at the kid.

RABBIT: (RAHHH!)

SOUND: PUNCH. PLOP, SPLASH.

SMALL FRY: (WHIMPERING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I’ve never seen a rabbit do that. This rabbit had never seen it, either. Looked like he’d spend the rest of his life wishing he hadn’t. Then he turned, and I saw that he was ready to blame it all on me.

RABBIT: (PANTING, BIG HOWL)

JUNO (NARRATOR): A few months ago I might’ve let him, too. That’s what a hero’s for, right? Taking all the hits so the innocent don’t have to, while the ones causing all the pain sit in the stands and watch, blood and popcorn butter sticky on their fingertips.

I was done with that. Instead, I was gonna give the rabbit some advice. So I turned the volume on my comms all the way up.

SOUND: INCREASINGLY LOUDER BEEPS.

RABBIT: (ROARRRR)

JUNO (NARRATOR): And right when he was about to crush my skull… I jammed my comms into his ear and pressed play.

SOUND: FEEDBACK SCREECH. BLIP.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): (VERY LOUD, OVER THE BELOW) We may look backward only to ensure we have not walked this path before.

RABBIT: (OVER THE ABOVE) (HOWL OF PAIN)

SOUND: BLIP. SPLASH.

JUNO: Whaddaya know? Looks like that advice just saved my life, too.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

Stay down, cottontail. I’m not kidding.

SOUND: LOW ELECTRIC HUM.

(OVER THE BELOW) See this? Plasma knife. Real hot; real sharp. I don’t want to hurt you, but if you come any closer, I’ll have to.

RABBIT: (OVER THE ABOVE) (GROWLS)

JUNO: Take the kid and go. This’ll kill you, you understand? Dead.

Stop! Neither one of us wants this!

RABBIT: (BIG GROWL)

JUNO (NARRATOR): But he kept running towards me. And he knew he wouldn’t win. I’m just not sure he cared.

He was almost on top of me. I knew I’d do it if I had to, and… that’s when I heard the first shot.

SOUND: BIG BLASTER SHOT. ELECTRIC WHIR.

THEIA: (AFTER A PAUSE) Targets detected.

SOUND: CREAKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): A big Theia bot stood in front of me and its first laser sizzled in the wall behind.

The bot had Small Fry pinned between a wall and the end of its cannon.

SMALL FRY: (BARKING)

JUNO: Dammit, no, no, no…!

RABBIT: (GROWLS)

THEIA: Come closer. Rabbit.

JUNO: …What?

RABBIT: (GROWL?)

THEIA: Come closer. I will tell you. When. To stop.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

Closer. Just. A little closer. Real close. There.

SMALL FRY: (YIP!)

SOUND: PLOP.

THEIA: Your little one.

SMALL FRY: (BARKS, MEWLS)

RABBIT: (GRRRRRR)

THEIA: Now please leave. And be careful. Bunnies.

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS FADE.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The two ran, and Small Fry never looked back. I was proud of her. We may look backward only to ensure we have not walked this path before, right? Wherever those rabbits were going, whatever home awaited them… they’d definitely never been there before.

THEIA: You. Stay there.

SOUND: CREAKING.

JUNO: (HEAVY BREATHING)

SOUND: CREAKING STOPS. HISS OF STEAM.

THEIA: Are you injured. User. Mista Steel.

JUNO: Mista…

(STARTS LAUGHING, OVER THE BELOW)

THEIA: Because. Um. Ramses wants to see you aboveground. And. Somethin’ somethin’. No. Don’t say. Somethin’ somethin’. Say—

JUNO: Rita?!

THEIA: —somethin’, you—

JUNO: Rita, is that really you?

THEIA: No. I’m. Um. What’s this thing called. Tara. Teyona. Let me. Look it up.

JUNO: Rita! God, I am glad to see… whatever the hell robot this is.

THEIA: This is. The Theo’s Spectacles.

JUNO: Wait– you yelled at the bot for saying “somethin’ somethin’,” which means you must be able to hear it.

THEIA: Nuh-uh.

JUNO: Rita…

THEIA: Who’s that. She sounds nice.

JUNO: Just drop the joke, alright? I’ve been looking for you for days, I’m filthy, I’m tired, so just tell me where the hell you are!

THEIA: Oh. Does it make you worried. Not knowing. Where very pretty user. Rita is?

JUNO: Rita, I said—

THEIA: ‘Cause maybe. Then. She should disappear for weeks instead. Not say anything. ‘Cause that would definitely make you. Less worried. And not way more worried. Ain’t that right. Boss?

JUNO: (AFTER A PAUSE) Oh, I…

(QUIETLY) What did I do?

Rita, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.

…Rita?

THEIA: The Theia Order. Is shutting. Down.

SOUND: POWERING DOWN.

JUNO: Rita? Rita?!

…No.

Please…

SOUND: THUMPING ON METAL.

No! Damn it, no! No!

I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Rita; and, I know that’s not enough. I know how sour a sorry tastes when it comes from someone who’s apologized before and never changed a thing. I know you’ve got no reason to believe me, but…

SOUND: METAL CLUNK.

Please don’t leave me here, Rita. You’ve got every reason to, but… I’m tryin’ to get better. I really want to get better, maybe for the first time in my life since the HCPD, and… I’m just so scared that it’s too late, and everybody’s already smartened up and gone, and maybe you should, but please, please—

RITA: Hi Mista Steel.

JUNO: (YELPS, PANTING) How long were you behind me?

RITA: Just for the last ‘please please.’ I miss anything you wanna say again?

JUNO: I, uh…

I’m sorry, Rita. I’m just… so sorry. It won’t happen again.

…Rita?

SOUND: THWUMP.

Oof!

RITA: I missed you, boss. I was real worried.

JUNO: I know. I hear you. For once. (DEEP BREATH) And I missed you too, Rita. Really.

RITA: (SNIFFLING)

JUNO: What? What’s the matter?

RITA: (SNIFFING/CHOKING BACK TEARS) We just… ain’t never hugged this long before, boss. (SWALLOWS) It’s nice.

JUNO: Oh. Yeah, it’s…

(CLEARS THROAT) Anyway, uh… I got a map, and it says there should be a way out just over—

RITA: Oh, yeah. The whole system’s bein’ shifted around, boss. None’a your maps are gonna work anymore.

JUNO: Shifted around for what?

RITA: Oldtown, I guess. But anyway, I figured out the way up before I even came down here because you know me, Mista Steel, I’m all for an adventure but as soon as it’s one that might get one’a my three S’s wet, I gotta get in and out. That’s right, my shoes, snacks, and salmon sausage snacks, so—

JUNO: You know a way up?

RITA: I do! Wanna go see? I was hopin’ we’d be able to bring that big puppet I hacked into with us, but it ain’t exactly gonna fit through the manhole. Or up the ladder, which I learned ‘cause at first I had two ways out but then I broke one, you’re never gonna believe how, boss, it was—

JUNO: With the big robot, right. Listen, Rita, I want to hear that whole story, I really do, but can we do it someplace we’re not covered in slime?

RITA: That’s a great idea, boss. This way.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (FADING IN) …let’s look at that moment one more time. Opening day at Polaris Park. Moments after Takano’s last employee check-in. The silent, solitary moment in which his departure flipped from an idea to an action.

We can’t know what he was thinking in those moments. And in the end, trying to understand every minute detail of the departed’s psyche tells us more about ourselves, in many ways, than about them. Just ask Lorenzo Vega:

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Jack was… a perfectionist. He’d made so many compromises with his park, had seen his vision so diluted. One can only conclude that the sight of it, his creation so malformed… who wouldn’t leave?

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Or Jocelyn Chen:

CHEN (FROM COMMS): He was a visionary, and that meant he had no idea what he was doing. He could help us up to greatness, but him? His sights were always going to be aimed up about a dozen feet over where he ended up, and he was always going to be bored by whatever he made. Always.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Or Miranda Fairbanks, who wrote in her memoir:

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): Humanity needs people like Jack, I think. People who can just see how things should be, without the reality of what they are getting in the way. That’s how progress happens. And so I assume he must have seen the true way forward somewhere other than us… and run towards it.

JUNO: This ladder?

RITA: Mm-hmm.

SOUND: GRUNTS, METAL CLANKING.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): We’ve presented you with theories over these many hours, but we will probably never know why Jack Takano left us behind. The only clue we have is the audio note found in his office, once he was gone. And to conclude our program, we will play it in full.

MUSIC: STARTS (FROM COMMS).

JACK (FROM COMMS): The thing I find most beautiful about Andromeda, in the end, is this: that she can never be satisfied. I wonder now, if Orion’s curse wasn’t really a blessing for our Homeless Hero. He turned her from a protector of one city, to an active force of good the world over.

RITA: (OVERLAPPING WITH THE END OF ABOVE) What’s the holdup, boss?

JUNO: Found the manhole cover.

JACK (FROM COMMS): To find home—

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: METAL SCRAPING.

JACK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —Andromeda always looks backwards. Polaris. Nostalgia. The paradise left behind. And this works in our stories, when we only show the shining city for a few seconds at a time. But in life, no such place exists.

RITA: Mista Steel?

JACK (FROM COMMS): If it did—

RITA: Mista Steel?

JACK (FROM COMMS): —we would already live there.

JUNO: This… this isn’t Oldtown.

RITA: I’m pretty sure it is, boss. I counted paces an’ everything.

JUNO: No. The map’s right. I’m happy to explain in a minute, Rita, just as soon as I get this cannon out of my face.

THEIA: Remove yourselves. From. The sewer. Help. Is on the way.

JACK (FROM COMMS): But there may yet be such a home. I believe we can find it. But we cannot turn our heads if it is not what we expected, or if we fear what we see when it opens its gates.

RITA: Oh no oh no oh no—

THEIA: Now put your hands up. Please.

JACK (FROM COMMS): Home is not in the past. It can’t be. And that means when we find home, when we find the perfect place we yearn for… I doubt we will even recognize it.

RITA: What is this place? What happened to Oldtown?

JUNO: Says it right there on the sign, Rita.

“Welcome to Newtown: The City of the Future.”

JACK (FROM COMMS): And so now I leave. I go now to seek the true way home, as any hero should. And I urge you to do the same. Or, at least, to accept it when it comes. I look forward to meeting you there. Jack Takano.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actor Matthew Zahnzinger and co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …There’s not anything more to it than it’s like, yeah, well I thought of it, and I’m smart, and how do I know that? Well, ‘cause I’m me, I just know.

KEVIN: Mmhmm.

SOPHIE: And there’s nobody… above him to tell him, y’know. And there’s no way of knowing for sure… what is good.

MATTHEW: Although to that point, and, to get… back on my bandwagon of every commentary complimenting Kevin’s writing, um—

SOPHIE: Could you compliment me a little bit, for once?

MATTHEW: (LAUGHING)

SOPHIE: What is this?!

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Camille Blanton, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Long Way Home, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Jack Takano and Ramses O’Flaherty, Marge Dunn as Hawk Hackett, Bob Mussett as Lorenzo Vega, Melissa Barker as Jocelyn Chen, Allison Choat as the Miranda Fairbanks reader, Sophie Kaner as the Theia and Small Fry, and Kate Jones as Rita.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel #i miss small fry

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE LONG WAY HOME (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Juno Steel and the Long Way Home.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MUSIC: STARTS (FROM COMMS).

VOICE 1 (FROM COMMS): A man who came from nowhere disappears back into it. one of the galaxy’s most beloved creative forces vanishes without a trace. A visionary builds up the release of his life’s greatest work for years, yet doesn’t show up for opening day… and is never seen again. It’s a mystery that’s haunted us for thirty years. Tonight’s question: where is Jack Takano?

LORENZO VEGA (FROM COMMS): —of course we miss him. He was the genius of a generation!

VOICE 2 (FROM COMMS): Humanity needs people like Jack, I think. People who can just see how things should be, without the reality of what they are getting in the way. That’s how progress happens.

JACK TAKANO (FROM COMMS): —olaris will be the culmination of our company’s new direction: to spare no pain and no expense in the pursuit of public good. Or as we at Northstar like to put it: welcome home.

VOICE 1 (FROM COMMS): I’m Hawk Hackett, and this… is Questions Unanswered.

JUNO: Ugh.

SOUND: FUMBLING, CLATTERING. BLIPS & BEEPS.

VOICE 1 [HAWK HACKETT] (FROM COMMS): Over our twenty-part series we’re going to take you through the whole case as we know it: every scrap of evidence, every interview, every toenail clipping—

SOUND: FAST-FORWARDING.

—but, the release of Chainmail Warrior Andromeda is where Northstar took its first steps towards becoming the entertainment powerhouse we know today. And instantly, the Jack Takano who his coworkers called quiet, reserved, and ‘more of a listener than a talker’ was pushed out into the limelight. Jack took to the public eye like a rabbit to sewage.

JACK (FROM COMMS): But the beauty of Andromeda is her optimism. She knows she will find the way home – she can feel it in her very bones – and we at Northstar believe that all of humankind should behave the same way. The way home through these troubling times is before us: we need only to seek it out.

SOUND: DISTANT MECHANICAL WHIR FADES IN. SPLASHING IN BACKGROUND.

JUNO: Huh?

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Within months, Jack Takano had become not only Northstar’s creative center, he was also the company’s face. And a very popular face it was, a—

SOUND: CLICK. COMMS CUTS OUT. SPLASHING CONTINUES. DISTANT BOOM.

THEIA: (DISTANT, MUFFLED, ECHOEY) This sector. Has been cleared.

SOUND: CREAKING.

JUNO: What the hell…?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I followed the noise around another pipe, staying as quiet as I could knee-deep in muck… but by the time I got there, the place was empty. Just some ripples in the sewage where something used to be.

That had been my whole return to Hyperion City so far. Rita, Mick, Oldtown, ‘Where is Jack Takano,’ all I could find were the ripples. Never the source.

MUSIC: STARTS.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’ve been away from home for just a few weeks now, but the city I’ve come back to… I don’t recognize it anymore.

No, that’s not right. It’s like it doesn’t recognize me.

I got back in town yesterday morning, and as soon as Brown-Jacket drove us into the city limits I could tell something was off.

SOUND: MOTORCYCLE ENGINE FADES IN.

Maybe I was still used to the volume of an election, but the place felt quiet to me.

MUSIC: ENDS.

You could hear sirens whistling in the distance, arguments in the balcony windows, but… nothing felt like it would last. No big moves. Just… waiting. Watching.

For once I felt like talkin’ about as much as the big guy.

SOUND: POWERING DOWN, ENGINE STOPS.

BROWN JACKET: We are here.

JUNO: Here?

Here where?

This is the Boiler, isn’t it?

JACKET: This is where you asked to go. Hyperion City.

JUNO: I asked you to bring me home! To my apartment? My office, maybe?

JACKET: This I cannot do.

JUNO: Why the hell not—

JACKET: Hold this, please.

JUNO: A… comms? Alright.

SOUND: CLUNK.

So… how long do you want me to hold it for?

JACKET: As long as you wish. It is yours now.

JUNO: Then why the hell didn’t you just say s—

JACKET: Also: Buddy was quite clear with me that I am not to let you out of that sidecar until you say “thank you.”

JUNO: You’re dropping me off three hours from my apartment and she wants me to thank you?

JACKET: That will do.

JUNO: Didn’t count.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

JACKET: Our time is limited, so you must listen. I’ve downloaded three items you will find useful onto that comms.

JUNO: (GRUMBLES)

SOUND: BLIP.

JACKET: The first is an audio file with some wisdom that has saved me many times before.

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

It says, “we may look backward only to ensure we have not walked this path before.”

SOUND: BEEP.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): We may look backward only to ensure we have not walked this path before.

JACKET: Mmmm. Very wise.

JUNO: Real handy, big guy.

JACKET: Second: a report on that man you spoke of – Jack Takano. It surprises me that you have not heard of him. He did create the galaxy’s favorite hero—

JUNO: And third?

JACKET: Comms coordinates.

JUNO: You… gave me your– number? Seriously?

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

JACKET: We are not there yet.

SOUND: BEEP, DIGITAL SCROLLING.

JUNO: Why not? We’re close enough for you to rip my eye out, but not—

Buddy Aurinko.

JACKET: Mm.

JUNO: You gave me Buddy’s number. Why the hell would I need her number?

JACKET: There is still a job offer waiting for you.

JUNO: I’m not gonna be a crook, big guy.

JACKET: That is your choice.

JUNO: Tell Buddy not to hold her breath.

JACKET: That is her choice.

And now I must leave. Buddy will never call you again, and I will follow you no longer.

JUNO: Wait, so… this is just… it?

JACKET: Unless you call. Please, get off my bike now.

JUNO: Fine!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

(GRUMBLING)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JACKET: (CALLING) Juno!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I turned to look at him one last time. And for a second I felt like I was gonna miss the big lug. And, feeling directionless as I was, I hoped he’d saved one last piece of quiet wisdom for me.

JACKET: (CALLING) You are still wearing my helmet.

JUNO: Oh.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. CLUNK.

(SNORTS) There. Happy now?

JACKET: Not at all. I have grown fond of your presence in this hovercycle. I thought my tears would imply that.

JUNO: Your what—

…Are you crying?

JACKET: Everyone cries, Juno.

JUNO: You’re that broken up about dropping me off, but you won’t even give me a ride—

JACKET: I must not be seen in this city. And if one wishes to keep one’s presence unknown, one never returns to the same location three times. I have already been to your apartment thrice.

JUNO: What about my office, then?

JACKET: Twice. But I must save one for when you call Buddy. Goodbye, Juno.

JUNO: Goodbye, …?

SOUND: WHOOSH, MOTORCYCLE ENGINE.

(COUGHING) Seriously? I still don’t get to know your stupid name, you— (COUGHS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): That was the day’s first disappearing act. No ceremony, just a cloud of dust, and then… alone.

I didn’t want to walk two hours. The radiation sickness wasn’t quite done with me, still curdled in my gut if I moved too fast or too long – so I took my new comms for a spin and made a call. I didn’t know what to do about Hyperion, but at least my first move felt obvious.

SOUND: CITY AMBIANCE. COMMS BEEPS.

RITA (FROM COMMS): Hiiiiiii!

JUNO: Rita! You took your time picking up. Listen, I’m in the Boiler and I need a ride—

RITA (FROM COMMS): This is Rita! And if you’re hearin’ this, that means my comms is outta juice, which means either that I’m in the middle of watchin’ somethin’ very interesting and I am not to be interrupted, or maybe that I’ve been kidnapped! But that second one sounds interesting too, so wait a few days before you come save me, okay?

JUNO: Uggggh.

RITA (FROM COMMS): So leave a message if you want and I’ll get right back to you as soon as I ca– ah-OH! Wait! Unless, the third option is that maybe, Mista Steel and I are up to some real sneaky stuff! And then don’t call or leave a message because if my comms goes off during another stakeout he is gonna kill me!

Anyway, leave a message I love you thanks byeeeeeeeee!

SOUND: LONG BEEP.

JUNO: Rita…

Rita, this is Juno – I’m back in town and you’re back on the job. Call me ASAP.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So I found a bus station and told myself I needed the alone time to plan my next move. About how to take on Hyperion’s man of the future while part of me was still stuck on the man from my past. About what the hell I was supposed to do after that.

But I couldn’t take the silence very long. So I plugged the comms into my ear and got listening.

Or… tried to. Brown-Jacket’s comms was… a little more advanced than my old model.

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (QUIET) —from nowhere disappears back into it. One of the galaxy’s most beloved creative forces—

JUNO: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) What the hell is this saying?

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (QUIET) —vanishes without a trace.

SOUND: BLIP.

A visionary builds up—

SOUND: BLIP.

JUNO: (GRUMBLES) C’mon.

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (QUIET) —the release of his life’s greatest work for years, yet doesn’t show up for opening day—

JUNO: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) Give me a comms with the volume down, unbelievable.

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (QUIET) —and is never seen again.

SOUND: BLIP, FAST-FORWARDING.

(GASPS) Wait, stop!

SOUND: BLIP. BEEP.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): (NORMAL VOLUME) We may look backward only to—

JUNO: (SIGHS) No…

SOUND: BLIP.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (NORMAL VOLUME) Part Seventeen—

JUNO: (GROWLS)

SOUND: BLIP.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): —elcome back to Part 5 of Questions Unanswered: Where is Jack Takano?

JUNO: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) No, damn it!

HAWK (FROM COMMS): I’m Hawk Hackett—

SOUND: TWO BLIPS.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): —and our next segment is…

SOUND: BLIP.

The Rise.

JUNO: (SIGHS) Figures.

Rita’d be able to set this stupid thing up.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Andromeda’s rise to popularity was meteoric, and within months the financial troubles that had plagued Northstar were behind them. Cultural critics for the past thirty years have tried to account for this surge in popularity, often citing the pervasive cultural anxiety during the last years of the Galactic Civil War. But very few have explained this shift as succinctly as Takano himself, on the red carpet of his heroine’s second feature, Andromeda and the Sea of Sinners:

SOUND: CROWD CHEERING (FROM COMMS).

JACK (FROM COMMS): Well, I think the biggest reason people prefer Andromeda to Turbo, is that Turbo was never very good. (LAUGHS) And I can say that, I can say that, because Turbo was my project. But I was easily the least talented person on that team. It’s laughable to think about it now – a man showing up off the street without a portfolio, without a resume, without so much as a doodle on a napkin! And then they handed me the keys to a major property! Miranda must have been out of her mind completely.

SOUND: CROWD FADES OUT.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Northstar’s founder, Miranda Fairbanks, commented on Takano’s quick rise to management in her memoir:

VOICE 2 [MIRANDA FAIRBANKS ACTOR] (FROM COMMS): Jack never gave himself enough credit for the opportunities he earned. It’s true that he just showed up at our office one day with nothing, an– and I mean nothing – just his clothes and an ID that I suspected was fake, though I never looked into it. But within days made himself indispensable, filling in every gap in workflow he could find, learning every job that needed doing, and, most importantly, playing emotional translator to some of the more gifted artists on staff. We called him a writer, but, really he was always more editor, or manager… which certainly made Andromeda a happy surprise.

But even so, I never forgot how he looked at our door that first day, with his suit and his fake license. “I’m here to help,” he said. From his tone I couldn’t tell if he meant the company, or the world, or… just me.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Because Fairbanks repeatedly suggests that Takano may have been guilty of some form of identity fraud, rumors of a libel suit followed soon after her memoir’s publication… but these never went to court. Jack Takano was missing for ten years by then, and he’d left behind no family and no estate to file for him.

Again and again, this is the story of Takano’s four brief years in the public eye: appearances and disappearances. Or, as Fairbanks phrased it:

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): I often thought him our guardian angel, sent to watch over us.

SOUND: CARS DRIVE BY, CITY AMBIANCE FADE IN.

But he had another face, too: in the months planning Polaris Park. In that final letter he left. Then I felt he was a ghost, haunting and haunted.

SOUND: BRAKES SQUEAK, ENGINE RUMBLING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was stir crazy and sick of buses by the time the last one dropped me off by my office. But even walking the couple of short blocks there made my head pound and my stomach feel like it was gonna flip inside-out. Every step I told myself it’d be fine — I’d make it back to the office, ask Rita to stay quiet a few hours while the nausea passed, then figure out what we should do.

Didn’t have to tell Rita to stay quiet, though.

SOUND: KEY TURNING IN LOCK. DOOR OPENS.

JUNO: Hello?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Rita?

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES. DISTANT, MUFFLED VOICE, NEWS JINGLE.

My office. Rita, are you watching your stupid shows in my office again?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

I bought you a new monitor so you wouldn’t do that, didn’t I? I’m gone for a few weeks and you act like you own the—

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

…place.

VOICE 3 (FROM TV): This is day five of the Oldtown lockdown, and the official statement from Town Hall is that we shouldn’t expect the gates to reopen anytime soon. Quote, the specific nature of the threat in our poorest and most subjugated district cannot be overestimated. We must ensure that the Oldtown solution works before we can divulge the full scope of our strategy, endquote.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: What the…

VOICE 3 (FROM TV): For five days now, citizens separated from their families have camped out at each entrance of the Oldtown border, on freeway ramps and border ports. Mayor O’Flaherty has yet to comment on his administration’s controversial approach to this situation.

SOUND: TV CLICKS OFF.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And… that’s when I got worried.

I called Mick, but the signal was blocked. Just a message saying that calls into and out of Oldtown had been temporarily suspended.

Then Alessandra, but the message said she was off-planet and not accepting calls. Same with Khan. And Sasha… I wasn’t going to find her number without Rita.

So I tried Rita again.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP IN BACKGROUND.

RITA (FROM COMMS): (IN BACKGROUND) Hiiiiiii! This is Ri—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP IN BACKGROUND.

JUNO (NARRATOR): (OVER THE ABOVE) Nothing. And then I got really desperate, read some headlines to see who I could trust, didn’t like what I saw. Saffron Pharma, bought by Northstar Entertainment. Kanagawa Productions, in talks to merge with Northstar Entertainment. Even Valles Vicky’s Vixen Valley had closed shop in the days after the election, and, where the hell they all were now, I didn’t know.

I didn’t know where anyone was.

I stayed there through the night, calling and trying to catch up on what happened to Hyperion City. Calls kept bouncing. The news streams didn’t know a goddamn thing, and they were turning not-knowing into a twenty-four-hour media special.

VOICE 3 (FROM TV): But what, exactly, has happened in Oldtown? We know it began with alerts of an Omega-class sandstorm approaching Oldtown Dome. But as was the case several times last year, the alert appears to have been a false alarm.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Just… that. Over and over again. So bad that I fell asleep to one report and woke up to another that sounded exactly the same.

VOICE 3 (FROM TV): Damages are reportedly intense in the district, though no footage has made it through the broadcast barrier surrounding Oldtown. Even so, some experts predict that without a strong local police presence, the damages caused by rioting may—

JUNO (NARRATOR): Until I heard this.

SOUND: NEWS BULLETIN JINGLE (FROM TV).

VOICE 3 (FROM TV): This just in, folks, this just in: Mayor O’Flaherty is issuing an official statement from Town Hall as we speak. We bring you live to the scene as the Mayor updates us on the situation in Oldtown:

RAMSES O’FLAHERTY (FROM TV): (FADING IN) People of Hyperion City. I recognize your great frustration in the quiet that has followed Oldtown’s terrible tragedy. But rest assured that progress is being made — and the path to our future is clear.

We are not yet ready to discuss the details of the Oldtown Solution, but I will say this: given the district’s poor treatment by every cabinet for the past century, its current state was inevitable. If we are silent, it is because we wish to do Oldtown the good it has been owed for one hundred years now. That leaves little time for talking about that good.

Because unlike Hyperion’s terms under Mayors like Pereyra, like Freeman, like Armada Incorporated, this cabinet believes in action. For years Pilot twisted facts and buried evidence to convince you change had happened, instead of spending that time to make change. In our silence, my cabinet and I are spreading the soil from which a better tomorrow will grow.

And so we must request your patience for just three more days. In seventy-two hours, the gates to Oldtown will be opened, and you will see the great future ahead of us.

No questions.

SOUND: CROWD MURMURING (FROM TV).

JUNO: Three days.

Three days ‘til what?

JUNO (NARRATOR): The “experts” dissected every word Ramses had said like he’d buried some hidden answer for them to find. They wanted him to be right. We’d all invited this man into our homes, and now all of Hyperion was quiet with hope that we wouldn’t regret it.

Right before I turned off the monitor to leave my office, the news stream showed a another snapshot of Ramses. It had only been a little over a month since I’d seen him but he looked so… different. Tired. Sick, and… maybe a little guilty?

I wondered if Jack Takano made that face at Ma’s pitch meeting. Jack and Ramses didn’t look a thing alike, not skin, hair, bone structure, nothing. But the guilt… if it was guilt… I wondered if that, at least, looked the same.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP IN BACKGROUND.

I tried Rita one last time.

RITA (FROM COMMS): (IN BACKGROUND) Hiiiiiii!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Nothing.

RITA (FROM COMMS): (IN BACKGROUND) This is Rita! And if you’re hearin’ this, that means my comms is outta j—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP IN BACKGROUND.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Out in the desert, out in my head, I’d learned I didn’t have to do it all on my own, but– right then it felt like I’d learned it all too late.

The feeling wasn’t helping, so I shook it off. I’d bring the others with me how I could. So I packed an Alessandra Strong bag with clothes, supplies, and provisions. Took inventory with Sasha skepticism. I took a breath to fill myself with Benzaiten courage and… sheathed a plasma-knife next to my blaster and once I felt ready I told myself a genuine King-of-the-Freeway whopper:

JUNO: (QUIET) You’ve got this, Steel. In and out in twenty minutes. Easy.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Almost took piece of Rita with me, too, but– it felt pointless, trying to replace her. So I wrote a note instead, locked up the office. And left. I still knew one way into Oldtown. One way they’d never close.

SOUND: WATER DRIPPING & RIPPLING, ECHOES.

Which is how I got down here. To the sewers of Oldtown.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS ON METAL IN BACKGROUND.

And, even here… nothing’s like it used to be.

I could tell right away. On my way down the first ladder my foot crushed a half-full—

JUNO: (IN BACKGROUND) Ugh.

JUNO (NARRATOR): —beer that made my socks and the whole situation stink.

The rabbits would never leave a half a beer lying around - somethin’ was wrong.

SOUND: METAL CLANKING STOPS, WET FOOTSTEPS.

And as I kept walking it just got wronger. Tubes that didn’t lead where they used to; toppled rabbits’ dens with singed old mattresses and waterlogged flashlights; and that noise…

SOUND: DISTANT CREAKING.

I kept hearing it down tunnels and across corners, but in the sludge, I couldn’t keep up with it. So all I’d catch were flashes. A glint of dirty metal. A crater in a wall. A red blip of light in the distance, then steam rising from the scum. And every so often, faintly:

THEIA: (DISTANT, MUFFLED, ECHOEY) This sector. Has been cleared.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Its voice. What it was saying, I couldn’t tell. But it didn’t feel… human.

At least it wasn’t interested in me, I thought. It wasn’t like I could stay silent down here. But the silence of everything else, the air that pulled tighter and tighter around me, it was getting to me. I had to block it out. Luckily, the big guy had given me something for that.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (FADING IN, OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) ‘The place that fun calls home.’ Now, these words come to us automatically; they’re as central to our culture as cricket pad thai, Bargain Day, even the chainmail warrior herself. But they didn’t come automatically to Takano. Everything was revised again and again and again – even the trash cans.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): —a man obsessed in those days. My team would be working on the design for an automated trash-collector in Resmirks and he would come look at our work closely, and then say something like, “it needs to be cuter,” or, “it needs to sing when it eats the trash.” He was like that in every department, no matter when they met, offering insights, and feedback.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): That’s Lorenzo Vega, current head of Resmirks and Developgrins at Polaris Park.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): Our success was still a babe then, after all: it had been only two years since the first Andromeda film was released, and no investor wanted to take a chance on Northstar. They wanted Jack – you could say he was their diamond duck. And so, for them to keep paying, he had to make it seem as though he’d laid every brick himself. I think I can say now that he did not lay every brick. But even with a staff of thousands on his side, he may well have laid half of them.

The, ehm, bricks. Obviously. But– but still, I have no idea when the man slept. Obsessed. Obsessed.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): For months after the release of Sea of Sinners, the public waited breathlessly for the third Andromeda film. And yet, week after week, and month after month, no announcement came.

SOUND: LAUGHTER (FROM COMMS).

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): Now, Jack, you must know I gotta ask you…

JACK (FROM COMMS): I’m certain your producers think you do, though you’ll get no secrets out of me.

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): Well, I gotta try, don’t I? So. Let me ask. Jack: the next Andromeda movie. When?

SOUND: CROWD CHEERS, APPLAUSE (FROM COMMS).

See? They wanna hear it, Jack, now come on, have a heart! Give the people what they want, ah?

JACK (FROM COMMS): (SIGHS) I can’t say anything about the release of our next project. But. But! I’ll say that what we’re working on next is… ambitious. Something no one is going to see coming.

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): Yeah, well, that’s fine, Jack, but can you tell us what it’s gonna do?

JACK (FROM COMMS): Of course.

It’s going… to change things.

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): Really? …Oh, Jack, you had me goin’ there for a minute! Give it up for world-class kidder Jack Takano, everybody!

SOUND: APPLAUSE (FROM COMMS).

HAWK (FROM COMMS): The public would remain in suspense until a full year after the release of Andromeda and the Sea of Sinners, when Takano revealed his project at a press conference in front of Hyperion Town Hall:

SOUND: CAMERA SHUTTERS (FROM COMMS).

JACK (FROM COMMS): Will Andromeda ever get home? This is the question we receive most often at the Northstar main office. Mostly from children, but…

SOUND: CROWD LAUGHS (FROM COMMS).

And I am thrilled to say that today, at this press conference, I will be able to answer that question. In a way. Because for me, the most beautiful thing about the Andromeda fable is the strength it shows we have for one another. Andromeda may try and fail to return to her home, but what does she do along the way? She returns others to theirs. She thaws Queen Pisces’s castle, she releases Aries from Orion’s curse, and everywhere she goes, she creates homes… even if she cannot find her own.

We at Northstar would like to learn from Andromeda. And if she cannot return home on her own, we would like to make a home for her, and for all of you. A home as good, proud, and safe as hers. And so today, Northstar would like to announce our latest project: The City of the Future.

Welcome home.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): It was genius! As Jack put it, Northstar’s priority has always been to manufacture public good. From the beginning, we’ve used entertainment as a vehicle for educating the children. That’s why our shows before Jack always ended with a lesson of some sort: Ian Ion had its seminars on the crossroads between theoretical physics and thirtieth-century warfare; Money Girl and the Subsidiaries ended with a forty-two-minute lecture on tax law. And now you have Andromeda, the peakedy-peak of our ideal, a film series that deals with morality, with charity, that makes heroism a process and not a goal… what else are you going to do in cartoons at that point? You-you have to reach past the screen and into the real world.

He always said that’s why he sought Northstar out in the first place: because we were trying to make things better.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Dr. Vega’s theory is consistent with Takano’s work: Turbo Saves the Day was often criticized for ending with morals too simple for all but the youngest children. And this do-good attitude has become central to Northstar’s raison d’etre, even in the years since his disappearance: to this day much of the company’s profits are donated to charity, and in recent years they’ve put nearly a third of their profits into affordable housing, and healthcare.

But this future wasn’t set in stone when construction first began on Polaris Park. At the time, many found Takano’s direction for the company… controversial.

VOICE 5 (FROM COMMS): Controversial doesn’t begin to cover it. At the beginning, the City of the Future project felt like a stab in the back.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): That’s Jocelyn Chen, former Head of Animation at Northstar.

VOICE 5 [JOCELYN CHEN] (FROM COMMS): I just want to start by saying this: I loved Jack. I think he had a great heart. He, clearly… you know, saw a future that none of us could really understand. But he wasn’t always great at explaining what that future was ahead of time, and that meant… well, for example, it meant sometimes he’d reassure you that getting into municipal planning didn’t mean he’d turned his back on making movies, and you couldn’t tell if that was true, or if he just needed it to be true right now.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): You had a disagreement with him.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): I did. I tried to get him to show me the full plan of his City of the Future, but he wouldn’t budge. So one day, I went into his office and I banged down the door and I said, “Listen, Jack, you can’t just yank us around like this. I’ve got a department full of people scared they’re not gonna have jobs in a year and they just want to know you’re going to do good by them.”

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Did he argue with you?

CHEN (FROM COMMS): (SIGHS) No. He looked pretty wounded, actually. Apologized too much. Then he showed me his plans up close, and… I mean, most of them were beyond me, but, the one thing I could see was that there was no Andromeda. There wasn’t a single Northstar character anywhere.

He asked how he could make things better for us. I said, “Jack, we’re a cartoon company. Let us draw some cartoons.”

HAWK (FROM COMMS): This was the first of many compromises Takano would have to make in order to build his City of the Future, which some say was not a theme park at all on first conception. Or as Miranda Fairbanks wrote,

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): I told him, “Jack, the tagline can’t be ‘Welcome home.’ People are going to think they can live there.” And he just looked at me like a kicked puppy and said, “Why can’t they?”

So I had to impose a few controls. “How’s this thing gonna make money?” I asked him. He didn’t have an answer, so I added some merchandising opportunities and a fee at the gate. He’d tell me his big ideas for hours and hours – that this place was going to change things, that it’d bring joy to suffering people. “Well, Jack,” I said, “do those suffering people have a lot of cash? Because the budget you’re proposing is way more than we’ll ever have, even with an interplanetary success, and I’d rather not end up in Hoosegow.”

SOUND: WATER DRIPPING FADES IN.

He didn’t have an answer for that, either. So we halved its size. The City of the Future wasn’t a city anymore, so we called it Polaris, and the tagline was “Welcome to our home.” Then a few investors dropped out and we made it smaller again: Polaris Park, tagline “The place we all call home.” Then when the focus groups showed nobody understood what a ‘place we all call home’ even meant, it became… “The place that fun calls home.”

JUNO: Huh?

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Jack… wasn’t happy with that.

SOUND: SPLASHING FADES IN.

He kept looking for another name for weeks and weeks, but, he never found one that he liked—

JUNO: The hell was… just shut up. (OVER THE BELOW) How do I get this stupid thing to shut! Up!

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —and then he gave up. I sometimes wonder if tha—

SOUND: BLIP.

ANDROMEDA (FROM COMMS): —I stole your treasure, Draco! Now fight me!

SOUND: BLIP.

JACK (FROM COMMS): —something no one is going to see coming.

VOICE 4 (FROM COMMS): Yeah, well, that’s fine, Jack, but—

SOUND: BLIP.

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): —til he moved that hand and a layer of skin peeled off his face, only to reveal another—

SOUND: BLIP.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Welcome back, and thanks for tuning in to the final—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Damn it! Can’t hear a goddamn thing over this st—!

HAWK (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —part of our series, Questions Unanswered: Where is Jack Takano?

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM.

JUNO: Welp. Heard that.

SOUND: CREAKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I chased after the sound as quickly as I could.

SOUND: BACKGROUND DISTANT BOOM.

I was gaining on it… but so was somethin’ else. Somethin’ big.

JUNO: (PANTING)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Our final chapter: The Homeless Hero.

???: (DISTANT YELPS)

SOUND: BOOM. CRACKING, CRUMBLING. CREAKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): A laser hit the wall in front of me and cracked it like an egg. Brick and rubble scattered in viscous sludge. I smelled smoke and fur, thought the rabbit was a goner.

Then a gray-green shape scrambled through that hole, barking, and I felt my first pang of hope all day.

RABBIT: (BARKS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I went in after it. A few seconds later I heard that thing chasing us – whatever it was – roll right by. We’d lost it.

SOUND: ELECTRIC WHIR. SPLASHES.

RABBIT: (WHIMPERING)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Can you tell me about the park’s opening, Dr. Vega?

VEGA (FROM COMMS): We were all very busy that morning – several of the attractions—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Here, bunny bunny bunny… I got a billion-cred bill with your name on it.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —had broken down the previous day and we’d stayed up all night to get them back on their knees again.

RABBIT: (SMALL BARKS)

VEGA (FROM COMMS): We were tired—

JUNO: Rabbit?

VEGA (FROM COMMS): —and dread-full—

RABBIT: (BARKS)

VEGA (FROM COMMS): —and excited.

JUNO: There you are.

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Jocelyn Chen describes the morning similarly.

SOUND: SPLASHES.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): I had my team out painting the walls themselves.

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) You’re just a… baby.

C’mere, small fry. C’mere. I’m not gonna hurt you.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) That wasn’t in their job description. I remember… thinking I was going to force Jack to give them all a vacation, when it was over, but still… I don’t think any of ‘em would’ve wanted to be anywhere else.

JUNO: There, see? It’s okay.

BABY RABBIT: (COOING)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): Then… you were too busy? You didn’t see Mr. Takano at all that morning?

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) That looks like it burned your leg pretty badly… whatever the hell it was.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) Nope. His park was about to open. At the time it felt like… you couldn’t get away from him.

SOUND: WHIRRING, BOOM.

BABY RABBIT: (YELPS)

VEGA (FROM COMMS): He was still making his rounds. He had a few last—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Damn it, it’s here!

VEGA (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —minute demands, even then.

JUNO: Shh!

BABY RABBIT: (MUFFLED YELPS)

VEGA (FROM COMMS): This door should be—

JUNO: (OVER THE BELOW) Ah! (PAINED HISS) You’re gonna be okay, just– shh.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): (OVER THE ABOVE) —louder, that one softer, that sort of thing. But beyond that, he seemed… tranquil.

SOUND: WHIR. YELPS STOP.

CHEN (FROM COMMS): He looked calmer than he had in months; maybe years. He didn’t say anything that would make you suspicious, but, even so… I don’t know how, but, I was putting away the last can of paint, and I could just… feel it.

SOUND: WHIR FADES OUT.

VEGA (FROM COMMS): There was a rhythm to his check-ins, you got used to them, and so before I completely understood how I knew…

VEGA & CHEN (FROM COMMS): (IN UNISON) …he was gone.

JUNO: (QUIETLY) Is it gone?

You stay put; I’m gonna go look.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

(GRUNTS)

HAWK (FROM COMMS): In her memoir, Miranda Fairbanks wrote:

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): —cover-up was quick. We put Naiya, Andromeda’s voice actress, in one of the chainmail suits and had her ad lib something. I don’t remember her speech, but, I remember she said ‘hero’ a lot. And every time she did, I thought of Jack.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS STOP.

JUNO: (QUIETLY) I don’t see any— (GASPS)

SOUND: WHIRRING, LOUD BUZZ. SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS.

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): He was a hero, whoever he was. And a hero only exists as long as there’s a problem to solve, and as soon as it’s solved, we don’t need him anymore. I’d like to think he’s still out there, helping someone else. The galaxy needs heroes. Without them, who’s going to fix this mess we made—us?

THEIA: Target recognized.

SOUND: SPLASHING FOOTSTEPS STOP.

JUNO: (QUIETLY) What—!

…Theia?

FAIRBANKS ACTOR (FROM COMMS): Jack changed lives. And I firmly believe that was only the beginning of the man he turned out to be. Because when a person like Jack Takano rolls through… everything changes. And—

SOUND: CLICK, COMMS CUTS OFF. WHIR.

THEIA: Target is. Juno Steel. Directive: do no harm. Message: Mayor O’Flaherty. Requests your presence.

Current form of this Theia Order unit. Is incapable of nonviolent capture. Report to the surface. This is your only warning. Farewell. Juno Steel.

SOUND: CREAKING, WHIR FADES.

BABY RABBIT: (MEWLS)

JUNO: Don’t sweat it, small fry. You did good.

BABY RABBIT [SMALL FRY]: (MEWLS)

JUNO: It’s gonna be alright. We’re gonna patch you up, and we’re gonna get movin’, and… we’re gonna find you a home.

SMALL FRY: (BARKS)

JUNO: Whatever the hell that looks like now.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …then, y’know, like– okay, here’s an example of my insanity is like, in Monster’s Reflection, I remember I spent a really really long time splicing together footsteps, because I wanted to be clear that Juno was crossing a threshold from, um, a wooden floor into a carpeted room. So it was really important to me that we go from wood floor footsteps to carpeted footsteps. (GIGGLING)

KEVIN: And that’s not even rare! You do that a lot!

SOPHIE: I know. And I think I told Joshua that, and he was like yeah, I wouldn’t…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Minchowski, Camille Blanton, Christine Kim, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Long Way Home, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Jack Takano and Ramses O’Flaherty, Marge Dunn as Hawk Hackett, Bob Mussett as Lorenzo Vega, Melissa Barker as Jocelyn Chen, Allison Choat as the Miranda Fairbanks reader, Sophie Kaner as the Theia, and Alexander Stravinski as the Man in the Brown Jacket.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE SPORTIVE NYMPHS (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the Lake of Tranquility.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Sportive Nymphs.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: BIRDS CHIRPING, CROWD MURMURING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Ladies and more ladies. For fifty thousand years, this has been the event that has brought all nymphs together as one. Just today we’ve seen poetry, battle, rivalry, love, and very soon, loss.

Who will rise victorious? Who will free the damsel? And who will lose his life? We’ll find out now, in the final round of… sport!

MUSIC: STARTS.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Makes me kinda sad that this is over, Sunny. Game 28,955 has been a hell of a game, a hell of a game.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Don’t have time to be sad for too long, Pit, ‘cause remember: we’ll have another exciting round of play ready for the next group of boys to wander through here!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Miracles of progress, Sunny; can’t fault ‘em.

SOUND: GALLOPING.

DAMIEN: Remember our plan, Marc: I shall save this damsel, and while the enchantresses are distracted, you will save Sir Angelo and Talfryn.

MARC: That was your plan, actually. I liked mine better.

DAMIEN: Now is not the time…

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): We’re all sad to see it end, but let’s leave these games on a high note. What can we expect for our final round, Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh, nothing special… just a briar cagematch!

SUNNY & PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (CHEERING)

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Now that’s a treat!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Rules are simple: first to free the damsel wins, and the loser’s partner dies a few seconds after; for, uh, reasons I’d say are pretty obvious.

SUNNY, PITLEY & NYMPH CROWD: (LAUGHS)

MARC: You have a bow. It makes way more sense for me to save the damsel and for you to shoot those nymphs!

DAMIEN: Makes sense? You have a horse!

MARC: And how do you figure I use him, huh? Gallop straight through those thorns as long as knives and cut Dampierre to pieces?

DAMIEN: It is our only choice. My arrows will do nothing to creatures even Sir Angelo cannot overpower. Your horse is just a horse. Sir Angelo is responsible for the lives of—

MARC: Just a horse? Just a horse?! Alright, changed my mind, that’s the dumbest thing you’ve said all day.

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Looks like our athletes have entered the briar cage, Pit. But is it just me, or do they look a little distracted?

DAMIEN: This is still about our bet, isn’t it? You don’t want me to save the damsel because—

MARC: It is not about that! I don’t care! But that’s my brother up there—

DAMIEN: But Sir Angelo is the greatest knight—

MARC: And that makes him worth more than the people he protects? Huh?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Don’t care what they’re arguing about, Sunny. Sport waits for no man. (YELLING) Bring! Out! The! Damselllllllllllll!

SOUND: RUSTLING, HEAVY CLUNKS.

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): Marc! Sir Damien! Something’s coming!

MUSIC: ENDS/IS DROWNED OUT BY SFX.

MARC: Alright, well, neither one of us is going to save her if we keep fighting like this, so…

Uh… where is she?

DAMIEN: I cannot see her. This arena is nothing but flat grass and those tall briars. But that noise… it sounds like… a wagon.

MARC: (CALLING) Tal! Do you see what’s in that thing?

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): I don’t, but…

Damsel…! Why does that sound so familiar?

SOUND: DISTANT DULL BANG. CLUNKING & RUSTLING STOPS.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Here she is, ladies: the damsel we’ve all been waiting for is just behind that thicket!

SOUND: DISTANT DULL BANG.

DAMIEN: (CALLING) Talfryn! What are we to prepare ourselves for? What beast attacks this maiden beyond the thorns?

SOUND: DISTANT DULL BANG.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Damsel… damsel…

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): So put your hands together for the star of the hour…

SOUND: DISTANT DULL BANG.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): The damsel isn’t a woman, guys! It’s a—

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Zygoptera phallophaga: the Maneater Damsel!

SOUND: DISTANT DULL BANG.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): —damselfly!!!

SOUND: WOOD SPLINTERING.

NYMPH CROWD, SUNNY, & PITLEY: (AWED) The Damsel!

SOUND: HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRRING/INSECT BUZZING.

DAMIEN: A dragonfly the size of a dragon… Saints above!

MARC: Grab on, Damien!

SOUND: UNHOLY BUG-MONSTER SCREECH.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Ooooh! She came so close! The game could’ve been over right there, Pit!

SOUND: GALLOPING.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Wouldn’t have been the first time that happened. Back in the day that’d be a real heartbreaker, you wait, and wait, and chomp! It’s all over.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): And she’s got to save that appetite for one of these two snacks up here, ‘cause boy, are they a mouthful!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh, don’t tempt me, Budkin!

SOUND: DAMSELFLY SCREECH.

MARC: Faster, Dampierre!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): You know I can’t help myself. But don’t get those feelers in a twist just yet, Pit – you still have to tell us how the briar cagematch plays out!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Now, the first thing the crowd’s gonna notice is the view – we’re about a hundred yards away from the action here and yes, that is disappointing, ladies, but it’s for your own safety! The Maneater Damsel is perfectly tame, but once it gets its first taste of flesh it does not stop eating until it dies of a burst belly or about twenty gallons of stinger venom.

(CALLING OFF-MIC) You’ve got the venom this time, right? I said the ven-nom! I don’t want another screw-up like last time, alright, no pig’s gonna save you now, you hear me?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (OVERLAPPING WITH THE END OF THE ABOVE) This is probably a good time to remind everyone in the audience of our emergency exit protocol, which will take place immediately after one of the champions severs the chain confining the Damsel to the arena.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): And then we pick which one’a these two boys gets a ride to safety! Ain’t that right, fellas?

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Ohhhhhh…

MARC: Free the Damsel from her chains… you’re kidding me!

DAMIEN: Their wordplay matters no longer. Slow your steed and I shall sever that chain in seconds.

SOUND: STRETCHING. WHINNY.

DAMIEN: Wh– Marc, what are you doing?

MARC: If you break that chain, Princess Bug is going to eat my brother!

DAMIEN: Oh, Saints, it’s true… a civilian to die in the place of a knight? Improper… and yet, Sir Angelo, my friend and rival, I cannot lose—

SOUND: HELICOPTER BLADES WHIR MUCH LOUDER, DAMSEL SCREECH, THEN WHIR BACK TO NORMAL.

MARC: Just shut up and shoot the bug! Shoot the bug!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Another divebomb! The Damsel’s picking up speed!

DAMIEN: Saint Damien, your Tranquility, even in the chaos of battle, the thrill of sport—

MARC: Pray later! Bug now!

SOUND: STRETCH.

DAMIEN: Ha!

SOUND: FOUR RAPID SWISH-CLINKS.

Oh dear.

MARC: Dampierre!

SOUND: WHINNY. BLADES WHIR LOUDER, THEN BACK TO NORMAL.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Another miss by the Damsel! Look at that horse run, Pit!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh, I’m lookin’, Sunny. Seems like our athletes just learned their first lesson about the Maneater Damsel: it’s charmed! Immune to metal! It’s an old charm, but a good one – I mean, hell, a thousand years in the cocoon’s got to be worth something, right?

DAMIEN: Charmed!

MARC: Charming.

(CALLING) Tal! You have anything about giant magic thousand-year bugs in that big brain of yours?

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): No… but I was just thinking that nymph is also another word for an adolescent bug, specifically one that doesn’t go through metamorphosis in the chrysalis or—

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): (STRAINED) This is all very interesting, good Talfryn; but perhaps information more relevant to our current situation—

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Uh, uh…

Marc! From up here it looks like the Damsel’s chain doesn’t reach the whole arena! You should be safe over by that big rock at the edge!

MARC: Got it! Damien, try to hold it back!

DAMIEN: With what?!

MARC: Here. Special delivery from Rilla. A couple handfuls should do it.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): You’re too nice to that one, Pit.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): What can I say, Sunny? Always was a sucker for a pretty face.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Ugghhhhhhhhhhhh.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): It’s a compliment, kid. Take it!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR LOUDER, DAMSEL SCREECH, THEN WHIR BACK TO NORMAL.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Another divebomb! And the fastest one yet! I can’t see how those two are going to avoid this one!

DAMIEN: My Saint… my Rilla…

(GRUNTS) Protect us!

SOUND: POP, FLAMES WHOOSH. INSECT BUZZING OVERTAKES ALL SOUNDS.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Incredible! Sszzzzzir Damien shot a fireball! You ever zzzzzee this before, Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (BUZZING)

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): She let go! Sir Angelo, she let go of me!

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): S-Saints… a-bo—

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Wh— we have to run! We have to—

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): S-S-Saints a-bo… huh! Saints above, man! The woman is bees!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): ZZZZZZZzzzzzzorry about that, Sunny!

SOUND: BUZZING FADES OUT. BIRDS CHIRPING, CROWD MURMURING IN BACKGROUND.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Oof!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): I’ve just… it’s like a whole new game out there! I haven’t seen sport this good since Game 28,954, how long ago was that, Sunny?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Four days, Pit.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Hell of a game! The of-Nakeeshes versus those incredible piggies, never seen a Damsel go so wild, never seen an afterparty get so out of hand, hell I can barely remember the entire week before it—

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): That’s alright, Pit. What a time to be alive!

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): (YELLING) Sir Marc! The nymphs, they aren’t nice ladies – they’re just swarms of bugs that look like nice ladies, and—

SOUND: SEVERAL QUICK BEEPS.

MARC: (AFTER A PAUSE, CALLING) Sir– Sir Talfryn?!

Tal!!

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

PITLEY: Heyyyyyyyyy Sunny.

SUNNY: Yeah, Pitley?

PITLEY: I missed the last couple seconds’a that, ‘cause someone was yakkin’ away… you mind if we take another look?

SUNNY: Not a problem, Pit.

PITLEY: Rrrrrrrrrrrrrreplay!!

SOUND: TAPE REWINDING. BIRDS CHIRPING, CROWD MURMURING IN BACKGROUND.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): …I haven’t seen sport this good since Game 28,954, how long ago was that, Sunny?

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Four days, Pit.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Hell of a game! The of-Nakeeshes versus those incredible piggies, never seen a Damsel go so wild, never seen an afterparty get so out of hand, hell I can barely remember the entire week before it—

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): That’s alright, Pit. What a time to be alive!

TALFRYN (MIC ECHOING): Sir Marc! The nymphs, they aren’t nice ladies, they’re just swarms of bugs that look like nice ladies, and—

SOUND: SEVERAL QUICK BEEPS, MIC ECHO CUTS OUT.

(OFF-MIC) —it looks like they lose their grip when they… when they…

What happened?

PITLEY: They’re the ones playing the sport. We just sit back and watch the drama.

TALFRYN: (YELLING) Sir Marc! You have to— (CHOKING)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

PITLEY: Loose lips get hit, kiddo. Remember that.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): The Damsel’s getting up, now…

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

It looks like that hard landing stunned her, but the dirt’s snuffed the fire, at least. And she takes off!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH. BLADES WHIR/INSECT BUZZING, SLIGHTLY MUFFLED.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): She looks spooked, Sunny.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): With a wake-up call like that, who can blame her? I’m guessing we’re going to see a lot of defensive play from our Damsel now.

TALFRYN: (WHISPERING) Sir Angelo! Sir Angelo, can you hear me?

ANGELO: (STRAINED) Indeed, my good fellow. What troubles your mind this— (COUGHING & CHOKING)

TALFRYN: (WHISPERING) Maybe shorter sentences would help, sir.

ANGELO: (STRAINED) Mmm. Yes.

TALFRYN: (WHISPERING) When the nymphs get excited, they stop being able to hold their solid forms. If we’re going to escape—

ANGELO: (STRAINED) By Saint Ferdinand’s forelock, you’re right! We must strike at precisely the moment our captors grow most— (GAGS)

TALFRYN: Excited.

ANGELO: (STRAINED) Mmm. Yes.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): The Damsel’s observing the arena, looking out for any more nasty surprises… only…

Uh, Pit?

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Yeah, Sunny?

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Where are our athletes?

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): I, uh… don’t know.

(CLEARS THROAT) Maybe we’ll just up the audio from the arena.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Let’s.

SOUND: DIAL CLICKING.

Athletes! Attention, athletes! You are not allowed outside the field of play!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Rule 467b, subsection twelve: if the competitors refuse to compete in the finals for more than two minutes, then both of their teammates are forfeit! That’s as established in Sport Finals Forty-Nine and confirmed in Two Hundred and Twelve, 1,752, and don’t even get me started on 13,298—

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Take this, scoundrel!

SOUND: TWO QUICK SWISH-CLANKS.

MARC (ECHOING): Ha! Ha!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Incredible! The athletes appear to be… dueling! In the middle of the finals!

TALFRYN: Wh… what…?

MUSIC: STARTS.

MARC (ECHOING): Hey, watch it! You nearly took Dampierre’s head off!

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Sir Angelo’s life is too precious – for both myself and the safety of every human in the Citadel. I cannot allow your brotherly affections to doom our home, Marc.

MARC (ECHOING): And I’m not gonna let you trade my brother for some metallic meathead. Ha!

SOUND: SWISH.

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Whoa!

ANGELO: Sir Damien! Stop this at once! It is a knight’s duty to— (CHOKING)

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Look at Marc go with that longsword, Pit! Cutting Sir Damien’s arrows straight out of the air!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Longest sword I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure. Guess it’d have to be, to get past the four-legged one with the nice—

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Oh, but it looks like the Damsel’s not going to put up with being ignored much longer! And girl, does she look hungry!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR LOUDER, DAMSEL SCREECH, THEN WHIR BACK TO NORMAL.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Another divebomb! The boys ain’t even lookin’!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Marc goes for Sir Damien’s legs…

SOUND: TWO QUICK SWISHES.

MARC (ECHOING): Ha! Ha!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): …and Damien jumps it!

SOUND: STRETCH.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): He goes for the counter shot…

SOUND: SWISH-CLINK.

Marc dodges!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): An arrow gets the Damsel right in the eye! Amazzzzzzzing!

SOUND: INSECT BUZZING.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): ZZzzzzzzz that’zzzz gotta hurt!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Hive never zeen anything like it!

TALFRYN: Sir Angelo! Can you break free?

ANGELO: (STRAINING) Not… quite…

Uh, Saints, Mistress Budkin is quite the professional. Unflappable!

TALFRYN: (STRAINING) And Pitley’s just… strong! (SIGHS)

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): The charm still holds, and the Damsel is uninjured. But with a retreat that fast, I think anyone can tell she’s spooked!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): She’zzzz cautious, I’ll tell you that much. Unlike those crazy boys down there! Look at ‘em! Sir Damien on the offensive now, backing Marc up to the Damsel’s chain!

MARC (ECHOING): You’re not– gonna kill my– brother!

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Nor you… the Citadel’s greatest knight! HA!

SOUND: FOUR RAPID SWISH-CLANKS.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): First strike on the chain goes to Sir Damien!

ANGELO: My friend! No!

MARC (ECHOING): (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BLADE SWISH, CLANKS.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Second hit goes to Marc, with the big zzzzwing!

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): And the Damsel gets ready for another attack!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Those boys had better clear outta there quick!

MARC (ECHOING): You heard the lady, Damien. Clear out.

DAMIEN (ECHOING): And let you cut the chain? Kill my rival? Never.

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH. BLADES WHIR LOUDER, THEN BACK TO NORMAL.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): She’s coming down! Are thozzze boyzzz really gonna do it?

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): A zzztandoff at the chain! ZZzzzzzzZZZZZ good azzzzzZZZzzz dead!

MARC (ECHOING): Dampierre! Ride!

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Saint Damien, your Tranquility…

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH. INSECT BUZZING FADES IN.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Zzere zzshe comezzzzzzzz!

SOUND: GALLOPING.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): (BUZZING)

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!

ANGELO: Sir Damien!

SOUND: CLINK.

MARC (ECHOING): Damien! Now!

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Ha!

SOUND: POP, FLAMES WHOOSH, DAMSEL SCREECH. INSECT BUZZING OVERTAKES EVERYTHING.

DAMIEN (ECHOING): Sir Angelo! Talfryn! You must escape while the nymphs are distracted!

TALFRYN: Sir Angelo, follow me!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, PANTING.

Sir… Angelo?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

ANGELO: (CHOKING)

SOUND: BUZZING FADES OUT. BIRDS CHIRPING.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Well, nymphs, it looks like the final round of our Twenty-Eight Thousand, Nine Hundred and Ninety-Fifth Sport has come to an end!

DAMIEN (ECHOING): (OVER THE BELOW) Impossible! That was the competitive climax of the century!

MARC (ECHOING): (OVER THE ABOVE) How?! Do you even like this game?!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Pitley’s off pollinating her enthusiasm over hill and dale, but Sunny Budkin’s always here to call it like she sees it. One of the losing competitors has left the podium, and so all athletes have been disqualified! But we nymphs know the most important rule of sport, don’t we?

NYMPH CROWD: (CHANTING) Damsel must eat! Damsel must eat! Damsel must eat!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): That’s right! You heard them, Damsel – it’s dinnertime! (WHISTLES)

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

MARC (ECHOING): She’s bluffing! I never even cut the stupid bug’s chain!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH, METAL CLINKS.

Ooooooookay, I guess it can just bite the chain off, that’s good to know.

DAMIEN (ECHOING): No! Sir Angelo!

SOUND: DIAL CLICKS.

(FADING OUT) Talfryn, you must do something! You must—

SOUND: SEVERAL QUICK BEEPS.

TALFRYN: What? I have to what?!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): That’s enough audio from the arena, I think. And wow, Sir Damien is not taking this well! It looks like he’s trying to shoot our Damsel again… but those arrows can’t even leave a scratch.

TALFRYN: No!

Sir Angelo! Come on!

ANGELO: (STRAINED) Friend Talfryn… you mustn’t…

TALFRYN: Come on! We have to—

SOUND: PUNCH.

Oof!

PITLEY: Sidelines interference, boy. You aren’t part of this game anymore.

SOUND: BLADES WHIR.

(GRUNTS)

TALFRYN: Woaaaah—

SOUND: THUD.

Oof!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): You’re right on time, Pit.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): You thought I was gonna miss the big finale? Gimme a hunk of that hunk.

ANGELO: Ow!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): The Damsel’s preparing to charge the podium!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): But first she’s gonna have to make it past the briar cage, Sunny, and that’s no eas—

SOUND: WOOD SPLINTERS, DAMSEL SCREECH. BLADE WHIRRING STOPS.

Oh! And it’s broken. Thought that Damsel seemed a little big.

NYMPH CROUD: (CHEERS)

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): She’s dazed… she’s shaking herself off, and— (LAUGHS) Those two are fighting! Again!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Really screamin’ at each other, looks like!

SUNNY & PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): (LAUGHING)

TALFRYN: (YELLING) Marc! Stop it!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Oh, men. What would we do without ‘em, Sunny?

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Watch women kill each other, probably.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Or whoever, am I right?

NYMPH CROWD, SUNNY & PITLEY: (LAUGHING)

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Gal oh gal, violence is fun. And don’t even get me started on—

NYMPH CROWD: (GASPS) Ooooooooooh!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Can you beat that!

MUSIC: STARTS.

Marc just slapped Sir Damien straight across the face!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): And now he’s riding towards the Damsel! What is he doing?

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Got his sword in the air! (LAUGHS) Like that toothpick’s gonna do anything! (CALLING) She’s charmed, kid! You’re done!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): He’s reaching for something at his belt now, and—

SOUND: FIREBALL WHOOSH.

TALFRYN: (GASPS) Marc!!!

SOUND: TWO QUICK FIREBALL WHOOSHES.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Crazy idiot’s gonna get himself killed!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR LOUDER, THEN BACK TO NORMAL.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Damsel’s angry… she’s descending… she’s right over him!

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Boy’s as good as dead!

TALFRYN: Marc!

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Over any second now. Get ready to make yourselves scarce, ladies, because the final seconds of sport are almost here. And…!

SOUND: BIG FIREBALL WHOOSH. YELLS.

PITLEY (MIC ECHOING): Zzzzzzit can’t! It’zzzzzzzzz never…! Zzzzzzzno prezzzzedent!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

SUNNY (MIC ECHOING): Ladies and more ladies, for your own safety I have to insist that you immediately evacuate—

SOUND: WOOD SPLINTERING. HEAVY CREAKING, FLAMES WHOOSH.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: BIRDS CHIRPING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. DISTANT FLAMES CRACKLING.

TALFRYN: (COUGHING) Sir Marc! Sir Marc, where are you?

DAMIEN: Talfryn! There you are! Have you seen Sir Angelo? Or your brother?

TALFRYN: I haven’t! And that Damsel hit the ground really, really hard. And it was on fire! And it blew up the podium, and—

DAMIEN: Yes, well… that certainly does not look good for either of our compatriots, but… well, there isn’t any need to panic…

SOUND: HOOFBEATS APPROACHING.

His horse! Surely your brother’s noble steed will have found him, and—

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

DAMIEN: (YELPS) Oh dear…

TALFRYN: Dampierre… but where’s Marc?

ANGELO: (DISTANT, FADING IN OVER THE BELOW) Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup

TALFRYN: Sir Damien… do you hear that?

DAMIEN: The beating of my heart! Is it so clear to you, dear Talfryn? That in the name of something so petty as sport the bravest, most cunning, most inventive hero of this land should fall, and also your brother—

SOUND: LEAVES RUSTLING.

ANGELO: Ha ha!

MARC: Whoa, Angie, whoa!

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo!

ANGELO: Indeed, indeed! It was a harrowing adventure, but I, Sir Angelo the Strong, bested at last the iron-handed nymph Sunny Budkin as she—

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

ANGELO: Mmm. Yes. Ah, I bested the—

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

MARC: Steed jealousy. Looks like piggy-back time is over, Angelo.

ANGELO: Of course.

SOUND: GRUNT, RUSTLING, BUCKLES CLINKING.

Anyway, as I was saying, the great flaming beast rained down from on high, when suddenly—

TALFRYN: But… how did you two survive? And Sir Marc, how did you kill the Damsel? And Sir Damien, why did you stay behind, and why were you two fighting, and—

DAMIEN: A moment, good Talfryn, and I shall attempt to explain. The beast was on fire because—

MARC: No, you gotta start it right. I let it grab me because—

DAMIEN: You dare tell the poet-knight how to recite verse?

MARC: I do when he recites it like that!

TALFRYN: I just want to know what happened?

ANGELO: And I as well, for I too have a tale to share!

DAMIEN: If only there were some objective means, a quaint device that might allow us to review the events of the past, in motions slower than reality.

MARC: Some way to kind of… replay all of that, instantly.

DAMIEN, MARC, TALFRYN, & ANGELO: (IN UNISON) Huh.

SOUND: TAPE REWINDING. CROWD CHEERING. TWO QUICK SWISH-THUNKS.

DAMIEN: Ha! Ha!

SUNNY: (DISTANT, IN BACKGROUND) And wow, Sir Damien is not taking this well! It looks like he’s trying to shoot our Damsel again… but those arrows can’t even leave a scratch!

MARC: Damien, that isn’t working.

SOUND: STRETCH. SWISH-THUNK.

DAMIEN: Ha!

MARC: Damien!

SOUND: STRETCH. SWISH-THUNK.

DAMIEN: Ha!

MARC: We need another plan!

DAMIEN: Like your last plan? Because that’s gone just swimmingly for Sir Angelo, hasn’t it?

MARC: Yeah, kind of like my last plan, except one that works, alright? Come on! Like lives are on the line!

DAMIEN: (DEEP BREATHS) O Saint Damien, you of gentle breeze and—

MARC: This again?! Really?!

DAMIEN: You asked me to act like this was important! Well, this is how! Now be quiet! Hmph!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR. DAMSEL SCREECH.

I beg of you, o Saint, that you may give me the patience to feel the tides of possibility that surround me, to follow the currents as they flow, to—

MARC: Come on, come on…

DAMIEN: I have it! Marc, I will need you to take this satchel of Rilla’s powder and place it by the wall of our thorny cage. I will shoot it with my arrow, and the resulting impact should cause the cage—

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

—to ignite! And in fear, the beast will be completely helpless, ready for the slaughter, trapped!

PITLEY: (DISTANT, IN BACKGROUND) But first she’s gonna have to make it past the briar cage, Sunny, and that’s no easy—

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH. WOOD SPLINTERS. WHIRRING STOPS, CROWD CHEERS.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh! And it’s broken. Thought that Damsel seemed a little big.

DAMIEN: Or… well so much for, ahem, trapped.

MARC: But… there’s still something to that plan.

That’s it! It’s perfect, perfect!

DAMIEN: What is?

MARC: Remember that big invention I was talking about?

DAMIEN: You did not invent the net!

MARC: Not that one, the big one! Try and keep up, Damien. It’s huge, Damien, absolutely gonna blow you away! And also there’s one more thing about it, just a little guy, nothin’ special.

DAMIEN: Which is what?

MARC: It didn’t work. At all.

SOUND: DISTANT DAMSEL SCREECH.

Until you came up with that idea. Now I’ve got it!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (DISTANT, FADING IN OVER THE ABOVE) She’s dazed… she’s shaking herself off, and— (LAUGHS) Those two are fighting! Again!

SOUND: BLADES WHIR.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Really screamin’ at each other, looks like!

SUNNY & PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (LAUGH)

DAMIEN: But what is it?!

MARC: Suuuuper simple! I’m gonna run after the Damsel through that big hole in the cage, and when I hold my sword straight up in the air, you’ve just gotta shoot it! And there’s only one downside!

DAMIEN: Which is…?

MARC: I’ll probably die! Which you don’t care about, so that means we’re good to go. Alright, so here’s the deal—

DAMIEN: Marc… no.

MARC: Really? You haven’t even heard it yet. Hey, if I die, it’ll be really beautiful. You can probably write, like, half a dozen tunes about it. Eh? Eh?

DAMIEN: No. I will not allow you to go out there planning your own death, Marc. Because Rilla—

MARC: ‘Cause Rilla would be mad at you? Is that it?

DAMIEN: No, I—

MARC: Geez, Damien, seems like the stakes right now are a little higher than—

DAMIEN: It is not because of how Rilla might feel, Marc, though her misery may be my misery. It is because… (SIGHS) She sees something in you. Respects you. And as much as it is a convenient fiction for me to imagine that you’ve manipulated her tender, womanly heart to get there…

…that is not who Rilla is.

MARC: Yeah? And you’re so convinced by that, now? You try to kill me this whole game and suddenly, poof, we’re good?

DAMIEN: I—

There are hidden worlds within each of us, Marc. Worlds we hide out of shame or bravado or… because we don’t even know they exist, yet. It has occurred to me that those without them, those whose desires are truly so simple, so thoughtless as I’ve made yours seem…

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh, men. What would we do without ‘em, Sunny?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Watch women kill each other, probably.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Or whoever, am I right?

SUNNY & PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (LAUGH)

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

DAMIEN: They’re… nothing. Just hunger given form and words, snapping at whatever comes by. If Rilla respects you, then you must not be one of their number. And yet I think both you and I came very, very close to joining them today.

MARC: That’s… really thoughtful, Damien. Kinda beautiful, too.

DAMIEN: Yes; yes, well, I am a poet—

SOUND: SMACK.

Ow!

NYMPH CROWD: (GASPS) Ooooooooooh!

MUSIC: STARTS.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Can you beat that! Marc just slapped Sir Damien straight across the face!

DAMIEN: What was– why?!

MARC: Just trying to remind you that you don’t like me, so you won’t feel bad about shooting at me in a minute. Ride, Dampierre!

SOUND: GALLOPING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (IN BACKGROUND) And now he’s riding towards the Damsel! What is he doing?

DAMIEN: Marc, you… you!

MARC: And one other thing! Don’t call me Salamander anymore! Call me Salamander Knight, instead. Because next time you do…

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

This is what you’re going to be thinking about!

SOUND: DAMSEL SCREECH.

Dampierre, after that big gross bug!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Got his sword in the air! (LAUGHS) Like that toothpick’s gonna do anything! She’s charmed, kid! You’re done!

MARC: Give me some time to prep it, and I’ll turn any toothpick into your worst nightmare, nymph!

(QUIETLY) Alright, we still got a little time while she’s accelerating. Put on the safety gauntlet, check. Apply the firestarter oil, check. Aaand piss off the big man-eating bug. Ha!

SOUND: POP.

NYMPH CROWD: (GASPS)

SOUND: FIREBALL WHOOSH.

MARC: Yeah, you like that?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (DISTANT, IN BACKGROUND) Crazy idiot’s gonna get himself killed!

MARC: Ha!

SOUND: POP.

Ha!

SOUND: POP, FLAMES WHOOSHING. BLADES WHIR LOUDER, THEN BACK TO NORMAL.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (DISTANT, IN BACKGROUND) Damsel’s angry… she’s descending… she’s right over him!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Boy’s as good as dead!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (IN BACKGROUND) Over any second now. Get ready to make yourselves scarce, ladies, because the final seconds of sport are almost here. And…!

MARC: (OVER THE ABOVE) She’s coming towards us! Dampierre, get ready! And sword up!

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

(CALLING) Come on, Damien, shoot my sword. Shoot it!

SOUND: SWISH-THUNK, CLINK. POP, BIG FIREBALL. DISTANT DAMSEL SCREECH.

Ha ha, yes! Alright, Damsel! Eat my Salamander Sword! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: METAL SCRAPE. DAMSEL SCREECH.

Yes, yes, YES!

SOUND: DAMSEL LONG SCREECH. WOOD SPLINTERING.

Uh-oh. OK, get out of the way, get— (PAINED YELLS)

SOUND: HEAVY CREAKING, FLAMES WHOOSHING. SFX & MUSIC FADE OUT, FOREST AMBIANCE FADES IN.

MARC: So, then I broke my saddle-clasps, and got knocked into the rubble, and screamed a lot, and, basically the point is I’m the hero of the story.

DAMIEN: And?

MARC: And, all that stuff you said about worlds hidden inside people is dumb, because I always said I was the hero and now, look, here I am. Seems like you were just wrong, pretty much.

DAMIEN: Hmph!

TALFRYN: Sir Damien, what a plan! And Sir Marc, I can’t believe… that’s so cool!!!

MARC: Ah, next time I’d rather not have to get shot at to make it work, so, there are a few kinks but… (CHUCKLES) Yeah, it totally was.

TALFRYN: Wow!

DAMIEN: Yes, it’s… very impressive.

And the shot I made was nearly impossible.

ANGELO: Yes, yes, that’s all very exciting. But Sir Angelo, too, had his share of adventure, and now he shall share it! It all began with the creature raining from the sky in flames—

MUSIC: STARTS.

Of all the…?! What now! I am trying to tell a tale, you—

SOUND: BUZZING FADES IN.

Oh, dear.

TALFRYN: Not again!

MARC: That’s impossible! There’s nobody left in there!

SUNNY: BzzzzzZI’ve never heard of a game like this before, Pit.

PITLEY: Zzzzzme neither, Sunny – me neither. It’s a damn shame, you ask me. An insult to sport, letting four cheaters run off scot-free.

SOUND: BUZZING STOPS.

SUNNY: It’s a good thing our rulebook’s so flexible, isn’t it, Pitley?

PITLEY: Only natural, Sunny. Used to be we had to wait for a new Damsel to grow up. Used to be we had to wait a thousand years between games, and if the rules ain’t flexible… well, wouldn’t want a thousand years of waiting to end with four half-wits slipping through a loophole, eh? That’s a mistake you only make once.

SUNNY: So what do you say we make a new rule now, Pitley?

PITLEY: I say I like that idea a lot, Sunny. A whole lot.

DAMIEN: We bested your game, Nymphs! We have thrilled you, entertained you, and danced where you have asked us! Now let us go on our way!

PITLEY: Howsabout this: if all four athletes get caught cheating…

SUNNY: …then we make them play again. From the beginning.

TALFRYN: That’s… a lie! You’re lying! You just said it takes a thousand years for the Maneater Damselfly to mature.

SOUND: BUZZING FADES IN.

ANGELO: The soft one is correct! You have no beast for us to best! And it is improper for a woman to lie!

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo, I do not think we should still be—

ANGELO: And, it is also improper for a man to lie, and for bees to lie! In summary, I would request that everyone stop lying!

PITLEY: You get us started, Sunny. I’ll show them the lie.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Lllllladies and more ladies! Nymphs from the palm to the cacao, who tango in the mangroves and salsa in the balsas, welcome… to…

PITLEY: (HISSING) Sunny!! The Chrysalis Cloth! It’s gone. I can’t find it anywhere!

NYMPH CROWD: (GASPS)

MARC: The, uhhh… what?

MUSIC: ENDS.

SUNNY: Where did you put it?

PITLEY: It was– it was– it was in my combs, where I always put it—

SUNNY: You’re sure? You checked?

PITLEY: You’re lookin’ at ‘em right now, Budkin, so where the hell is it?

SUNNY: You lost it?!

PITLEY: I never lose anything! You’ve known me thirty thousand years, have I ever lost anything?

SUNNY: I… I… I-I, I… (BREAKS DOWN SOBBING)

PITLEY: (SOBBING)

SOUND: BUZZING GETS LOUDER.

MARC: Sooo, do we just slip away while they’re distracted, or…?

DAMIEN: It looks as though they may be slipping on their own.

ANGELO: My, that is a… lot of bugs.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Ladies and more ladies, tragedy has zzzzzztruck! The Chrysalis Cloth, our treasure which brought uzzzz such joy, which zzzwaddled our damzzzelzz and made them grow zzo-zzo quickly, it’zzz gone!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): It wazzzZZzz those piggies! Thozzzzzze zzweet-talking piggies, played the bezzt damn zzport I’ve ever zzzeen and we let em have thozze humanzzzz’ bonezz and they zztill szzzzzztolezzzzzzzzz…

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Our days of weekly zport are at an end!! Gone, our thrillzzz, gone, our livelihood, gone, our reazzon for life!

TALFRYN: It’s… just a game.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): We’ll zzee you in a thouzzand yearzzz, Nymphzzz! I’m Zunny Budkin…

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): ZzzzzzzzZZzzzzzZZzzz…

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): And zzzzzziss… wazzzzzz… zzzzzport!

SOUND: BUZZING FADES OUT. FOREST AMBIANCE.

DAMIEN: (CLEARS THROAT) Well.

Marc? Talfryn? Will you be joining us on the remainder of our quest?

MARC: Really?

DAMIEN: This is clearly dangerous land. You, Talfryn, understand it better than Sir Angelo and me. And Marc…

With the threats ahead, I think we could use a Salamander Knight of your caliber.

ANGELO: Sir Damien!

MARC: Nope, nope. It’s fine. I think poet-boy finally gets it.

Tal, give them your horse. You’re going to ride on Dampierre with me.

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

MARC: Yeah, well, we already wasted a lot of time, okay? Rilla’s still out there. We still have to save…

DAMIEN: That doesn’t sound quite as heroic anymore, does it?

MARC: Yeah, there’s definitely already something wrong with that.

ANGELO: Leaves rather a bad taste, I think.

DAMIEN: Come, Sir Angelo. Let us find Talfryn’s steed.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

MARC: Day full of surprises, huh, bud?

TALFRYN: Yeah.

MARC: But hey! At least we got to look at some cute ladies all day, right? That’s not so bad, right?

TALFRYN: Rrright.

MARC: Did you like any of them? (NERVOUS CHUCKLE) Well. Let’s go, Dampierre.

MUSIC: STARTS.

TALFRYN: Hey, Marc?

MARC: Yeah, Tal?

TALFRYN: I don’t think I like damsels.

MARC: You… what?

(NERVOUS LAUGH) I’m guessing you don’t mean the bugs?

TALFRYN: No.

MARC: So…

Guys, then?

TALFRYN: No. I don’t like men, or women, or bugs… or anybody. Not that way.

MARC: Huh. No joke? No interest at all?

Sounds… kinda nice, actually.

TALFRYN: I think it’s going to be. Now that you know.

Uh, Marc? Is everything alright?

MARC: What? Oh, y-yeah, of course it is, obviously. I was just thinking that… I mean, I know you better than anybody, and I still didn’t… it’s, just…

Hey, Tal? Can I ask you a favor?

TALFRYN: Of course!

MARC: Keep surprising me, willya? I think… I think it’s good for me.

TALFRYN: Sure, I’ll try, but… I think that’s kind of your responsibility too.

MARC: Huh. Yeah. Yeah, it probably is.

Thanks. Love you, bud.

TALFRYN: I love you too, Marc.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Kristie Norris and Allison Choat, and co-creator Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

ALLISON: …dominance, obsession with sports, objectifying members of the opposite sex, like I think these are all things that, like, stereotypically in our culture we might say are assigned to the non-female gender. And, Sunny and Pitley get to enjoy them, for… two hours at least.

KRISTIE: It’s also fun that we get to turn the idea of like, uh, preconceived notions of nymphs around as well, because normally nymphs are the highly sexualized beings, that like, mortal men- yeah…

ALLISON: (OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE) Right, like running from gods and getting turned into trees or whatever…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Rowan Collins, Garrett M, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, The Sportive Nymphs, was told by the following people: Stefano Perti as Sir Marc, Jason Mellin as Talfryn, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, M Sutherland as Sir Angelo, Kristie Norris as Sunny Budkin, and Allison Choat as Pitley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE SPORTIVE NYMPHS (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the Lake of Tranquility.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Sportive Nymphs.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: GENTLE WAVES.

SIR MARC: (FADING IN) Ha ha, I knew you had it in you, Tal! Look at that master tracker go, finding a shortcut around the Lake of Tranquility that not even the Queen knew about!

SOUND: HOOFBEATS.

TALFRYN: It’s really not that impressive.

MARC: Of course it is! Who else would’ve known about that pond hidden in the jungle?

TALFRYN: It’s not hard to find, if you know about the breeding patterns of mosquitoes—

MARC: Ew! Or, who knew that horses could swim? Could swim good, even?

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

TALFRYN: Yeah, horses are real good swimmers, Marc.

MARC: (NERVOUS LAUGH) Oh, come on, what are you worried about? If our new friend at the docks came through for us, and you know she did—

TALFRYN: Sir Marc, you didn’t!

MARC: Then the boat those knucklehead knights are waiting for’s got more holes in it than your undershirt! And that means they’ll have to wait for another one, and blammo! Just like that, you and I are two weeks ahead of them, and that means we’re gonna bag the biggest monster of all time! Just the two of us!

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

Three, I mean!

TALFRYN: Come on.

MARC: Your horse doesn’t count.

TALFRYN: You don’t know that this monster is that big a deal. Those are just rumors.

MARC: Just rumors, he says! Then let’s take a look at the cold, hard facts. Some cunning monster slithers into the Citadel, and burgles a beautiful maiden, and kills like a hundred people—

TALFRYN: We’d have noticed if one hundred people were dead. Probably.

MARC: Well, it must’ve done something bad, because who did the Queen send after it? The two top monster slayers in the Citadel. A new Investigator-General, the first in a century, and you remember what a pain she was. With a hunting team like that, this thing has to be, like, the biggest monster ever!

TALFRYN: Sir Caroline was a really good fighter…

MARC: I heard it’s a lizard-dragon-man with a thousand arms. And we’ve got earwitness testimony on that one, Tal, people heard Sir Damien say he saw it.

TALFRYN: Sir Marc… this seems like a really bad idea.

MARC: All the good ideas are bad ideas!

TALFRYN: This area is one of the most dangerous in the Citadel! Did you ask Rilla if she heard anything about this dragon-man, even?

MARC: Of course not. That’d be cheating. Also: she would’ve told me this was too dangerous. And also: I’m really bad at lying to her so I didn’t visit before I left.

TALFRYN: If we wanted to make a good impression with the Queen, why don’t we protect the Citadel while the Queen’s best knights are away? That’d be safer! And smarter!

MARC: (LAUGHING) Safer, yes. But smarter? Also yes. That plan is missing something that mine has, though. Lean in, come on, Tal, lean.

The girl the monster stole is supposed to be very pretty.

TALFRYN: …Oh.

MARC: Oh? Ohhhh? Do I sense some interest in there, Sir Talfryn? Maybe dreaming about that beautiful lady waiting to be rescued in that dragon-man’s castle?

TALFRYN: Ha-ha! Ha ha ha! Yeah, definitely!

MARC: It’d be a first, right? I mean, in the stories all this knighting-around is about saving damsels from towers, and rescuing them from human sacrifice, and untying them from horse-tracks. Never really got why that last one was such a thing, honestly, I mean why can’t the horse just go around—

TALFRYN: Marc, don’t you think we ought to focus on our mission?

MARC: I’m just saying that for all those stories I’ve never once saved a princess! Ever!

TALFRYN: B-but…

MARC: Don’t be boring, Tal! We never talk about girls. That’s something brothers are supposed to do, right? Come on, have some fun!

You know what kinda girls I like?

TALFRYN: N-no, and I was kind of hoping we could keep it that—

MARC: I like ladies that are like… like the wind.

Eh? Ehhh?

TALFRYN: How– but what does that mean?

MARC: Your turn. Come on, Tal, just feel it out, you’ll get there.

TALFRYN: M-m-m-m-m-m-me? I-I-I mean I… I– I guess I like women that are like the wind, too… then.

MARC: Like the wind? Come on, Tal, what does that mean? That doesn’t mean anything. Get specific.

TALFRYN: I, Marc I dunno if I should, I mean– but uhhh yeah, yeah you’ve– you’ve basically said everything, I think I’m all set.

MARC: Taaaalfryn.

TALFRYN: I… like… women… with nice…

Smells?

MARC: (LAUGHS) Oh. I, I mean yeah, me too, buddy, but that seems like a prerequisite more than something to get… excited about.

SIR DAMIEN: (DISTANT) Saint Damien above!

SIR ANGELO: (DISTANT) Damien! For Saint’s sake, stop thrashing!

SOUND: DISTANT SPLASHING.

TALFRYN: Sir Marc! Those two men are drowning!

MARC: See, Tal? Our moment as heroes has already started! I got back to my workshop while we were home and I’ve got a few new inventions up my sleeve.

Take this, water! Net bomb!

Yahhh!

SOUND: WHISTLING. POP, SPLASH.

DAMIEN: (DISTANT) Saints, what… what…?!

ANGELO: (DISTANT) This strength!

MARC: (OVER THE LINES ABOVE) Ha ha, it works! Now grab the rope and help me pull ‘em in!

SOUND: ROPE CREAKING.

MARC & TALFRYN: (GRUNTING)

MARC: (STRAINING) Come on, come on… pull… them… in!

SOUND: BIG SPLASH. HORSE NEIGHS. COUGHING & SPLUTTERING.

ANGELO: Blast this betentacled beast! I can’t get a grip on him!

DAMIEN: My knife…! Sir Angelo, hand me my knife!

MARC: Nope, changed my mind. Throw ‘em back, throw them back!

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!

ANGELO: There you are, my friend!

SOUND: ROPE CREAKING, CUTTING.

DAMIEN: (GRUNTS)

ANGELO: Huzzah! The beast is slain!

DAMIEN: (STRAINING) It… isn’t a beast at all. Just a… net!

MARC: Oh, come on! Now they broke my invention!

DAMIEN: Your invention?! I’ll have you know that accosting a Knight of the Crown is a serious offense, you cad, you brute, you—

Oh. So it’s… you.

ANGELO: Sir Damien? Do you know these curs?

MARC: Excuse you! Nobody calls us curs except our mother!

TALFRYN: And she always clarifies that she’s kidding afterwards! Which is very important to me!

DAMIEN: They’re of no concern to us, Sir Angelo. They’re only imitators. Pretenders to knighthood who tell tall tales and expect to be rewarded for their imagined efforts.

MARC: We’re what?

ANGELO: Imitators? Like… a fan club? (LAUGHS) Well, isn’t that a delight! I thank you, good sir. Keep this up and perhaps I shall name you my honorary squire for the day. It’s quite a charming invention you’ve cobbled together!

MARC: Fan club?! Squire?! Charming?!

DAMIEN: A typical exaggeration, from this blowhard. Quite an invention, Marc – do you really think you were the first man to think of the fishing net?

MARC: Hey, alright, so it’s not one of my greatest hits or anything, but that’s just ‘cause I’ve been busy. I’ve been working on a tool that’ll knock your socks off, you—

ANGELO: A sock remover! My, that sounds handy. I think I’ve rather taken a liking to these young fans of ours.

MARC: We’re older than both of you!

DAMIEN: A moment, please, Marc.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

As ever, dearest rival, your heart proves too open for its own good. Marc is as the simple tick: given an inch of open skin, he latches on and sucks from the greatness of others. Even… even…

ANGELO: Perhaps it is best you not say her name, Sir Damien; your armor is already soaked through.

DAMIEN: Quite.

(SIGHS) Do you understand, now?

ANGELO: I believe so. But the man’s culinary predilections aside, why need I fear him? My armor covers my skin entirely; he shan’t drink from my blood.

MARC: (CHUCKLES)

TALFRYN: (HISSING) Marc, that’s kind of rude.

DAMIEN: Then I’ll put it in terms more direct, my friend. This one on the horse is…

…the Salamander.

MARC: The what?

ANGELO: Begads! Him? The brigand Sir Absolon spoke of?!

DAMIEN: Precisely. Marc the Salamander, who took the tests of knighthood hundreds of times, who only ever passed when he cheated!

TALFRYN: Sir Marc didn’t cheat! He would never!

MARC: If you call me that one more time I’ll make you regret it, Damien.

DAMIEN: Our mentor, the great Sir Absolon the Quick, saw you cheat with his own eyes. You fed the Testing Beast to make it slower! More docile!

MARC: The only thing I fed the Beast was a chunk of my own shoulder after Absolon threw bacon grease on me!

DAMIEN: And whose word do you expect us to take? A lauded knight of the Citadel? Or you? (SNORTS) Do you know why they call him the Salamander, Sir Angelo?

ANGELO: Sir Damien, perhaps you shouldn’t—

MARC: That’s it!

DAMIEN: Because he is deceptive. As slippery as a salamander.

MARC: That’s… not it! But, I’m gonna hit you anyway!

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING.

TALFRYN: Marc, wait!

SOUND: HORSE GALLOPS.

You can’t do this. Think about Rilla.

MARC: (GROWLS) Fine.

TALFRYN: Now shake on it.

MARC: Talfryn!

TALFRYN: I’m serious!

We have to get along with him, Sir Marc. He’s going to marry our best friend some day.

MARC: …Fine. (SIGHS)

SOUND: BLADE SHEATHING.

Alright, Damien. Let’s get this over with.

Damien?

ANGELO: Sir Damien, it is unbefitting of a knight to deny a call for peace, and they are friends of… we-well, you know who I…

…my, he’s gone rather pale, hasn’t he?

TALFRYN: And he’s shaking a lot.

DAMIEN: Ri… Ri… Ri… R-R-Ril… R-R-Ril… (WAILING) Rillaaaaaaaa!

ANGELO: For Saint’s sake, man! Pull yourself together!

DAMIEN: My heart, my heart, the very furnace of my life, the fire of my being, my Rilla, it’s been weeks, weeks!

MARC: Uhh… what?

TALFRYN: Did something happen to Rilla?

ANGELO: Of course! You haven’t heard? A cunning four-armed lizard has struck the Citadel and stolen Rilla from her bed. Sir Damien and I are in hot pursuit of the beast, but it must have sabotaged our boat! The scoundrel!

TALFRYN: Four-armed lizard…

MARC: Snuck into the Citadel…

TALFRYN: The best monster slayers in hot pursuit…

MARC: And so the beautiful maiden is… Rilla. (GAGGING)

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!

ANGELO: Saints above! Now some pox of the heart has wracked your brother, too!

MARC: Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! (SPITS)

DAMIEN: (WAILING)

TALFRYN: But… now we can save Rilla, right?

MARC: I can’t believe the girl I was hoping to kiss was… Rilla! Why aren’t you more upset about this?!

TALFRYN: Uhh… am I supposed to be?

MARC: Oh, Tal, she’s basically our sister!

TALFRYN: I… um… I… I… uhm…

DAMIEN: Your sister? Rilla has no salamander’s blood, you fraud!

MARC: Maybe not, but she’s still our family. That’s why Tal and I are going to save her.

DAMIEN: You will do no such thing! I will save Rilla!

MARC: You wish!

TALFRYN: Guys… does it really matter who—

DAMIEN: She is my fiancée! My love!

MARC: Yeah, well, she’s our Rilla!

ANGELO: Friends, please! The boy has a point!

TALFRYN: Boy…?

ANGELO: Perhaps we shall each save half of her, hmm?

DAMIEN: And give anything to him? I think not!

MARC: Not like you’ll have a choice! We’ll get there way before you!

DAMIEN: You two? Best the Citadel’s greatest knights at… anything? Never.

MARC: Oh yeah? Prove it!

DAMIEN: Name the place and time.

MARC: How ‘bout right here, right now?

VOICE 1: (DISTANT SCREAM)

TALFRYN: What was that?!

MARC & DAMIEN: (IN UNISON) Our challenge.

DAMIEN: Whoever saves this woman first is the better knight.

MARC: Tal, give him your horse. I don’t want to hear him whine about cheating when he loses.

TALFRYN: Guys, I don’t feel good about this… that person sounds like she really needs our help.

DAMIEN: Then it sounds like you’d better get off that horse now, doesn’t it?

TALFRYN: (MOANS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, BUCKLES CLINKING.

MARC: On three.

TALFRYN: Guys, it sounds like she really needs—

DAMIEN: One…

MARC: Two…

MARC & DAMIEN: Three!

SOUND: GALLOPING.

ANGELO: Oh, but I can never resist some friendly competition! Come along, good Talfryn!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup… (FADING OUT)

TALFRYN: Ohh, I hope she’s okay…

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: GALLOPING.

VOICE 1: (SCREAMS)

DAMIEN: (MUFFLED, DISTANT) You cut me off!

MARC: (MUFFLED, DISTANT) That’s just called being slow, sore loser!

VOICE 1: (SCREAMS)

SOUND: LEAVES RUSTLING.

MARC & DAMIEN: Ha!

DAMIEN: Fear not, dear maiden!

MARC: I’ll save you!

VOICE 1: Ahh!

MARC: …from… nothing.

Do you see a monster?

DAMIEN: None at all. She appears to be screaming in this clearing… alone?

(CLEARS THROAT) Um… milady? Is there any… danger here that we can assist you with?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

MARC: We’re not just… like, interrupting your private time? Hopefully?

SOUND: LEAVES RUSTLING.

ANGELO: (DISTANT, APPROACHING) Hup hup hup hup– Ha ha! Here at last!

TALFRYN: (PANTING & COUGHING) Is everything… okay?

VOICE 1: They’re here! They’re all here!

DAMIEN: Please, milady – I implore you to settle your spirits and speak. Who are the they you speak of?

VOICE 1: You, of course!

Everybody, look! The competitors are here!

TALFRYN: Uh-oh.

SOUND: CHEERING, APPLAUSE.

DAMIEN: Saints above! The trees are filled with women!

TALFRYN: Hey, guys? Has anybody else noticed this clearing is kind of… weird? All the markings in the grass, the lines and numbers…

ANGELO: It appears to be… a field for some sort of competition.

VOICE 1: (GIGGLES) Of course it is, sillies. Nymphs love sport.

NYMPH CROWD: (CHANTING) Sport! Sport! Sport! Sport! Sport! Sport!

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: CHEERING, APPLAUSE.

VOICE 2 (FROM MICROPHONE): Llllllllladies and more ladies! Nymphs from the palm to the cacao, who tango in the mangroves, and salsa in the balsas, welcome… to… SPORT!

NYMPH CROWD: (SCREAMING)

VOICE 2 (FROM MICROPHONE): I’m Sunny Budkin, here with my pal Pitley—

MUSIC: FADES OUT.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Thaaat’s right, Sunny, Game 28,955 is already here and boy is it a good day for sport, let me tell ya, nice breeze and the sky’s clear as Game Forty-One with the Southern Frosts twins, what a game, what a game.

VOICE 2 [SUNNY] (FROM MICROPHONE): And we’ll be your announcers on this beautiful day. And why’s today so beautiful, Pit?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): ‘Cause it’s always beautiful when we get to see some sport!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHANTING) Sport! Sport! Sport! Sport!

TALFRYN: M-M-M… Marc…

MARC: I know, buddy. This looks like a trap.

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo… my bow will watch the trees while you protect the civilians.

ANGELO: It is done.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Who’s the best of the best? Who will be the hero to end all heroes? Who will free the beautiful damsel from her chains? We’ll find out today… in sport!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

ANGELO: Sir Damien? Shall we retreat?

DAMIEN: On second thought… that damsel may need our help.

MARC: Don’t want to let a lady down. And, we never settled our bet.

TALFRYN: (MOANS)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Pitley, do you mind telling our challengers what they can expect?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): You see, what we have here is your classic sport setup – forty-five thousand years old, Sunny, that’s nearly as old as sport itself.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Year fifty thousand is comin’ in hot, Pit!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): You better believe it! But anyway, so you got two teams of two, two qualifying rounds before the finals. The winners of the two qualifiers’ll go on to the final challenge and whoever proves they’ve got it will release the damsel.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): So that’s one member of each team for each qualifier. But Pit, hang on: what if the same team wins both qualifiers?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Even with two athletes working side by side, the finals don’t come free, Sunny. Hell, that reminds me of the old Of-Reilly-Of-Malley family game, that was Game… (FADES INTO BACKGROUND)

MARC: (QUIETLY) You hear that, Tal? Looks like we’re gonna save a damsel after all!

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) But Marc… what happens to the losing team?

MARC: (QUIETLY) I don’t know. We’re not gonna lose, so it doesn’t really matter, does it?

TALFRYN: (QUIETLY) I’m just gonna ask—

MARC: (QUIETLY) No. We can’t show ‘em any weakness. They’re too full of themselves already.

(CALLING) We’re ready to grind these two into the ground, nymphs!

DAMIEN: And we accept their challenge, fair maidens of the wood!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Alright, it sounds like our athletes are champing at the bit down there, so what do you say we get this started, huh?

Time to pick the qualifying rounds! Bring out the helmet!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

ANGELO: Ha ha! Well, isn’t this exciting!

TALFRYN: Did anybody else notice that helmet they’re pulling those slips of paper out of has bloodstains on it?

DAMIEN: Why do you ask, false knight? Are you thinking about quitting?

MARC: (HISSING) Talfryn!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): What’ve we got there, Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): First round: swordplay!

NYMPH CROWD: (POLITE CLAPPING)

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Nope, sorry, I read that wrong. (CLEARS THROAT) First round: wordplay!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): A crowd favorite! Let’s hope I get as lucky. Round two is…

Single combat!

NYMPH CROWD: (LOUD CHEERING)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Now choose your teams, athletes, and pick which of you will take on each challenge. You have ten minutes to strategize… and then let the games begin!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

ANGELO: (FADING IN) Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup—

DAMIEN: Sir Angelo! Where have you been?

ANGELO: My apologies. These fairest of nymphs asked to know our names and titles, and I could not leave them in distress.

DAMIEN: Please remember, my friend: beautiful though they may be, these nymphs are monsters.

ANGELO: I cannot believe that creatures with a love for something as wholesome as sport can be purely evil, Sir Damien. Perhaps they are monsters with some good in them, as it was with the loyal crocodile-hound?

DAMIEN: Perhaps… but is it possible that monsters with such souls might be…

Focus, Sir Angelo! We must let their captive languish no longer. The preliminary rounds were Saint-sent; we shall play to our strengths and save her quickly. You will take single combat.

ANGELO: But Sir Damien—

DAMIEN: Marc is known for his quick tongue – inevitably, he will take wordplay. I will defeat him in the first round, and then you and I will end this together.

ANGELO: But… taking our specialties so quickly? That doesn’t seem in competitive spirit. And the besaddled one did invent that device—

DAMIEN: He did not invent the net!

My kind, kind friend. I agree that it is a shame that we cannot trust these men. They would be valuable allies, as Sir Caroline was – for moving through the world as she has, in a life quite different from ours, has clearly gifted her with ways of thinking that you and I would never come to.

ANGELO: Very true, very true.

DAMIEN: And so I am certain that given Marc’s… situation, he too must have a perspective of great value in our mission. But the simple fact is that he cannot be trusted. Sir Absolon was most clear about that. And so we must defeat him, quickly, and continue on our own.

ANGELO: Hmmmm. Your theories on perspective are most interesting, Sir Damien.

DAMIEN: I hope we may prove them safely soon. Now—

ANGELO: Why, yes! The Queen does not keep many knights with tall brothers, does she? An oversight! I shall speak with her directly upon our return.

DAMIEN: Angelo… that isn’t quite what I—

ANGELO: Soft-bodied siblings, then? Horses with names?

DAMIEN: Your horse has a name, my friend.

ANGELO: (FADING OUT) Saints above, so he does! The Queen’s foresight never ceases to astound!

MARC: (FADING IN) You’re really bringing me down, here.

TALFRYN: I’m just saying – have you ever heard of this sport before? Or these nymphs?

MARC: ‘Course I haven’t. You heard them: this game’s all about tradition, and they said the tradition was to play it once every thousand years! Everyone who played it before is dead by now.

TALFRYN: But… Marc, that doesn’t make—

MARC: Does it matter, anyway? Think about the woman they’ve got locked up. Someone’s got to save her!

TALFRYN: And there’s something really weird about the way they keep saying damsel all the time!

MARC: Sure, it’s kind of an old word, Tal, but you don’t have to make fun of their dialect—

TALFRYN: I’m serious!

MARC: Yeah, I know. But I have a sure-fire strategy to win this thing, Tal, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.

TALFRYN: …Really?

MARC: Of course. Just let me take single combat. I’ve got a plan.

TALFRYN: Single combat?! You want to fistfight Sir Angelo?!

MARC: No way is it gonna be Angelo. Listen: Damien’s so full of himself he’s probably sending Angelo out to bomb the first round so I’ll pass on to the finals and he can fight me there. So we’re gonna play smarter! Surprise ‘em!

TALFRYN: Marc—

MARC: You’ll beat Angelo at wordplay no problem, because you’ve got plural brain cells, I’ll take out Damien, and you and I’ll go sweep that pretty maiden off her feet in the finals. What do you say?

TALFRYN: But… it’s single combat, Sir Marc.

MUSIC: STARTS.

What if they don’t let you bring Dampierre?

MARC: Oh, that’s the plan, Tal. Just you wait.

SOUND: HORSE SNORT.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Aaaaand we’re back! Time to get started with wordplay!

Mind telling us how it works, Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Wordplay’s an old favorite; dates all the way back to the days of asking riddles in trees and throwing acorns when they get ‘em wrong. Two champions are gonna prove their bravery by doing the scariest thing there is: reciting original poetry to a live audience of two thousand pretty girls.

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

TALFRYN: Poetry…?! Marc, I don’t know anything about poetry!

MARC: Uh-oh.

TALFRYN: I was so worried about your challenge that I didn’t even think about mine!

MUSIC: ENDS.

What are we gonna do, Marc?

MARC: It’s just Angelo, buddy. Just calm down, alright? That big moron’s going to insist he goes first anyway.

DAMIEN: With your permission, Mistresses Budkin and Pitley, I will volunteer to deliver the first poem.

MARC: There, see? Just take a deep…

That was the wrong moron, wasn’t it?

TALFRYN: Maaaaaaaaaarc!!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Our first team comes complete with a recommendation by Queen Mira herself! Best monster slayers, best rivals, and best friends, they are… Sir Angelo the Strong and Sir Damien the Pious!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

DAMIEN: Yes, thank you, thank you, you’re too kind…

My esteemed forest-spirits. It is my honor to entertain you this day. I present to you a tale of competition and excitement, a song of strife on the field of battle, and love on the sidelines, a four-hour epic that will make your hearts ache and your spirits soar—

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): The athletes should probably be reminded that their poems can’t take more than two minutes to recite.

DAMIEN: A two-minute ballad that will change your very conception of drama. I give you… The Battle at World’s End.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

So to the West, the lifeless West, the troubadour did trot; Through boughs of burning red and gold, ‘twas solitude she sought. When, clash! the iron thundered, lo, “Have at thee!” the reply; and ‘neath the leaves, the forest’s eaves, she heard their battle-cry. (FADES INTO BACKGROUND)

TALFRYN: Marc, my mind’s a blank! I don’t know how to say poetry! I-I-I-I-I barely even know how to say words, I’m so—

MARC: Stay with me, Tal. You can do this. Poetry is just a bunch of pretty words about nature, right? You know everything about nature! Just say some of that!

TALFRYN: A-a-anything?

MARC: Anything. Come on, try it out.

TALFRYN: Okay.

(SIGHS) You can get a quick survey of the wild fruits that grow in the area if you look for bear droppings, because the unripe berries don’t get digested and then—

MARC: Yeah, o-o-okay, no, stop, stop, stop!

TALFRYN: I don’t think that was a poem, Marc.

MARC: Of course it was. It was just… too experimental for this crowd.

DAMIEN: (FADING IN) And so they fell straight down to Hell, and battled ‘til the end.

Thank you.

NYMPH CROWD: (GOES WILD)

SOUND: BUZZING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Pistils and stamens, now that was a poem!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Don’t usually see a crowd this excited during wordplay, Sunny. I hope the other boys got brains to match their looks, because the competition today is fierce!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Well, what do you say we find out? Our next team hails all the way from the Second Citadel, and according to my inside source, they’re on a family vacation! Isn’t that sweet?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Sure is, Sunny, sure is.

TALFRYN: Marc…!

MARC: Alright, just… try this, then. I want you to say “Roses are red, violets are blue,” and then just follow it up with whatever’s in your heart.

TALFRYN: Anything?

MARC: Just so long as it’s not about droppings, yeah, now go!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): So let’s meet them, shall we? Say hello to our brothers-in-arms – Marc the Salamander—

MARC: Hey!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): —and Talfryn the other one!

TALFRYN: Hey!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): And it looks like Talfryn’s up first. Give him a hand, everybody; he’s sure got one tough act to follow!

NYMPH CROWD: (APPLAUSE, CHEERING)

ANGELO: Sir Damien! You assured me that Marc would take wordplay!

DAMIEN: They’re up to something, Sir Angelo – watch them carefully.

MARC: (CALLING) Don’t let ‘em get in your head, Tal! Just remember what I told you and poem your big heart out!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

TALFRYN: O-okay…

(CLEARS THROAT) Hello, everybody. My name is Talfryn. And this is my poem.

Roses are red! Violets are blue!

No they’re not.

NYMPH CROWD: (AFTER A PAUSE, LOW MUTTERING)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): I… think that might be it, Pitley.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Give the kid a second. Lot of great plays to make here. Wordplay’s full of surprises, full of surprises.

MARC: Tal, what are you doing?

TALFRYN: It’s not true, Marc! Violets aren’t blue! They come in pretty much every other color except blue, they can be white and yellow and pink and they’re even called violets, so why does everyone say they’re blue?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (CHUCKLES) …Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Wordplay’s full of surprises, Sunny.

This ain’t one of ‘em.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): There you have it, ladies! Sir Damien the Pious is moving on to the finals!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Now don’t go anywhere, because the next round is just about to begin! Athletes, would you please follow our lovely attendants to the single combat arena!

TALFRYN: Marc… I’m sorry!

MARC: Don’t be. It’s my fault for only thinking about my round.

TALFRYN: Right. But that means…

You’re going to fight Sir Angelo?!

MARC: Yep. Not exactly ideal, but I’ll make it work. And besides—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

VOICE 3: Hey boys. I’m heading over to single combat, wanna join?

MARC: Every cloud’s got a silver lining, y’know what I’m saying?

On our way, beautiful!

TALFRYN: No. I don’t.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): While we’re waiting for Sir Angelo and Marc to suit down, why don’t you tell us a little about single combat, Pitley?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Love to, Sunny, love to. Single combat is basically your ideal showdown, stripped down to nothing but your underwear and a stick for hitting the other guy with. The first athlete to knock the other outta the circle takes it. Each one gets to bring in one non-magical article of clothing to keep ‘em decent, but besides that it’s nothing but two men and a few concussions.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Sounds exciting, Pit.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): It’s lost its edge if you ask me. In the old days we didn’t even give them the underwear. Just slathered ‘em in honey, sat back, and enjoyed the show.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Sounds like a sexy time, Pit.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): You bet, Sunny, you bet. But if you want more sport, you have to make a few compromises. I miss those old games sometimes. Thousand years of anticipation and—

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Aaaaaaand it looks like Marc and Sir Angelo are ready for single combat! Approach the ring, champions, and let the games begin!

VOICE 3: Go get him, Mister Knight.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

ANGELO: Sir Damien, this doesn’t feel as fair as I’d hoped.

DAMIEN: I’m certain that Marc planned it that way. We gave him the honorable option and he did not take it. Remember that.

ANGELO: Oh, I don’t mind beating the Salamander around a little. He seems perfectly competent. I mean only… I wouldn’t want to harm an innocent horse.

DAMIEN: The steed of a demon rides also in the devil’s army, my compassionate rival – and that horse rides for him. Do you follow?

ANGELO: (AFTER A PAUSE) Then the horse… is a demon.

DAMIEN: Metaphorically, yes, but—

ANGELO: Why thank you, Sir Damien. You are as wise as ever. Haaaaaaaahhhh!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup! Sir Angelo is prepared for single combat! Down, you beast of hell, you infernal steed, you…! You…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS SLOW, STOP.

Well, hello, Marc. Where is your demon horse?

MARC: Oh, Dampierre’s over there.

SOUND: HORSE NEIGHS.

TALFRYN: (DISTANT) Go, Marc!

ANGELO: But, you…

MARC: I realized it probably wasn’t fair for you to fight both of us. It’s single combat, right?

ANGELO: That is very honorable of you.

May I ask also where your underwear has gone?

MARC: Ah, don’t need it. I’ve got these.

SOUND: TWO METAL CLANKS.

ANGELO: Yes, I can see that. Your greaves are impressive, but—

MARC: They’re just metal socks, actually. You like? Made ‘em myself.

ANGELO: …Can we expect your underwear to join us at any point?

MARC: See, I’d love to, but I can’t. The one pair I’ve got on me’s enchanted – long story, makes it so I don’t get sores from sitting on Dampierre all day, got ‘em off a troll with a skin condition. These passed inspection, though. You wanna look ‘em over?

ANGELO: No! No, no, I think… if the nymphs are satisfied, I shall be too!

MARC: Yeah, well, it is what it is. You think I like sitting in the dirt in front of a crowd of beautiful women naked as the day I was born?

ANGELO: My experience says that you should not, and yet your eyes seem to imply you do. Greatly.

MARC: Yeah, well, you got me.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Are our competitors ready for single combat?

MARC: (CALLING) I’m ready! (NORMAL VOLUME) Need a minute?

ANGELO: Your style is unique, Marc. I look forward to learning from this battle. (CALLING) Sir Angelo the Strong is ready for combat!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Alright, then! Three… two… one… Single combat!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

SOUND: GRUNTS, METAL CLANKING & RUSTLING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): It looks like we don’t have to wait long for surprises in this round. Marc has put down his weapon!

ANGELO: I’ve never seen such a stance. You must be a master of the blade.

MARC: Master of something, alright…

Got ‘em!

SOUND: JINGLING KEYS.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Looks like he’s pulled a ring of keys out of his socks! Incredible! Is that even legal, Pit?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): The whole spirit of single combat’s in your prep and your mental game, Sunny. Honestly, I can’t think of a move more legal than pulling keys out your hose. I don’t think I need to remind you about Theodore—

DAMIEN: (CALLING, OVER THE BELOW) Sir Angelo! Don’t give him a chance to cheat you! Finish this!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (OVER THE ABOVE) —of Scumm back in Game Nine-thousand-and-thirteen, who used his codpiece as a slingshot—

ANGELO: (OVER THE BELOW) Prepare yourself, Marc!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (OVER THE ABOVE) —and his own teeth as ammunition. Now that was sport!

SOUND: CLINKING.

MARC: (OVER THE BELOW) Just gotta flip this clasp, move that pin, turn the key, and then… ha!

ANGELO: (BATTLE CRY, OVER THE ABOVE) Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup…

SOUND: PNEUMATIC HISS, METAL CLINK.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): It looks like Marc’s completed whatever process he has hidden in his stockings, but will it be enough? Look at those muscles on Sir Angelo!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Mmmmmm-hmmmmm, I’m lookin’, Sunny.

ANGELO: That’s, um… hm. A powerful throw! (GRUNTS)

MARC: Lift with your legs, Angie, you’re gonna throw your back out.

ANGELO: Of course! My thanks! (GRUNTS, COUGHS) Saints, man! I was told you were the Salamander, not the elephant!

MARC: I’ll tell you my secret if you do me a favor?

ANGELO: But of course.

MARC: Throw the match?

ANGELO: That I cannot do.

MARC: Then I’ll settle for you never calling me the Salamander again, ‘cause I kind of hate it.

ANGELO: It is already done. My sincerest apologies.

MARC: Hey, bygones. It’s the metal socks. When I turn this key in the lock at the thigh, here, they shoot two big tentpole-spikes into the ground. You’d have to lift the whole arena if you want to get me out of here.

ANGELO: Saints, how cunning! Devices that can outperform even my strength – impressive!

DAMIEN: (DISTANT, YELLING) It is not impressive! They’re just tentpoles! He did not invent the tentpole!

MARC: I’ve been busy, alright? The big one’s still comin’!

DAMIEN: (DISTANT, YELLING) I told you he was a cheat! Fair maidens, I implore you to rule justly and disqualify this deceiver!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Sir Damien is crying foul! Pit, what do you think?

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Marc checked with the referees ahead of time, and the socks are legal, nothing magical about them. Unless the crowd wants him to stop, I don’t see why—

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Then let Single Combat continue!

ANGELO: An excellent use of the rules, Marc. Sir Damien was right about you: your mind can certainly craft strategy that I would never dream of.

But perhaps, that road goes both ways, hmm?

MARC: Did you mean to say that out loud?

ANGELO: Hmm, yes! May I see those keys of yours? I was hoping that by inspecting them I might learn more. About keys.

MARC: Yeah, no. Dampierre, catch!

SOUND: KEYS JINGLING. DISTANT WHINNY. GALLOPING.

DAMIEN: (DISTANT) Horse! Get back here!

NYMPH CROWD: (GOES NUTS)

SOUND: BUZZING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Incredible!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): A match that ragezzzz inside and outside of the ring! These boys are redefining sport!

MARC: So, I’m ready.

Let’s do this.

ANGELO: Indeed.

SOUND: WOODEN CLANKS, GRUNTING.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Look at the technique from Marc! He’s bolted to the floor and he’s still keeping Sir Angelo at bay!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): But don’t count Sir Angelo out yet, Pit. Marc’s attacks don’t move him an inch. And look at the power behind those blows! Marc can parry until the aphids come home, but if Angelo tires him out, then just one hit from that club will do damage no socks are going to fix.

ANGELO: (WINDED) It seems you are no stranger to the blade, my friend.

MARC: We’ve met a few times, yeah. (PANTING) You’re not so bad yourself.

ANGELO: Your compliment holds great weight, coming from so skilled a competitor. Yet I’m afraid our battle must end here. I cannot leave Sir Damien waiting.

MARC: He’s not waiting. He sounds like he’s having a great time.

SOUND: GALLOPING.

DAMIEN: (DISTANT, PANTING) Come back, you cloven coward, you four-legged fiend! Come back!

SOUND: WHINNY.

ANGELO: Even so, the damsel and Rilla await. I am sorry, Marc.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Unbelievable! Sir Angelo’s dropped his weapon, and he’s… retreating!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Not retreating, Sunny. It’s that mind game, I tell you. Which is great for sport and too bad for me.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): You do like your eye candy, Pitley.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): What can I say, I’m a nymph with simple tastes. Give me a man with muscles and… literally nothing else, Sunny, that’s all I’m after.

TALFRYN: (CALLING) Sir Marc! I thought you said the plan was to knock Sir Angelo off his feet!

MARC: Yeah, well, that one didn’t super work. But don’t worry, Tal: your big brother always comes up with a plan.

TALFRYN: What is it?

MARC: Not sure yet. Let’s find out together.

TALFRYN: Marc!!!

ANGELO: Use your weapon all you like, Marc. Once Sir Angelo the Strong has started his charge, nothing can stop him. Prepare to leave this ring… and those stockings.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Sir Angelo’s entered a runner’s stance. It– it looks like… It looks like…

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): He’s gonna tackle that handsome fella straight out of the only clothing he’s got! No need to dance around it, we’re all nymphs here.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Hold me, Pit.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): You bet, Sunny.

TALFRYN: Sir Marc!!

ANGELO: (EXTENDED BATTLE CRY)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

MARC: Three… two… one…! (GRUNTS)

ANGELO: (EXTENDED BATTLE CRY FADES OUT)

NYMPH CROWD: (GASPS)

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): …Unbelievable.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): You saw it, folks. Nothing can stop Sir Angelo when he’s at full charge. Marc the Salamander is the winner of Single Combat!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

TALFRYN: Marc! You did it!

MARC: Takes years of practice to lie down that quickly, Tal. Take notes; your brother’s a professional.

SOUND: DISTANT WHINNY.

Dampierre! Over here!

SOUND: GALLOPING.

DAMIEN: (PANTING) You… sinister stallion… you pernicious pony… you, you, you…

SOUND: THWUMP. HORSE SNORT. KEYS JINGLING.

MARC: Thank you.

SOUND: CLINKING.

Aaaaand I’ll be taking those.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): What a show, ladies, what a show! In the finals we have Marc the Salamander and Sir Damien the Pious, competing to see who can release our damsel from her chains! What do you say, nymphs? Are we ready for the main event?

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERS)

DAMIEN: (PANTING) You shameless…! I knew you were a cheater!

MARC: Help me up, Dampierre, don’t be lazy.

SOUND: HORSE SNORT. BUCKLES CLINKING.

DAMIEN: So? Do you have nothing to say for yourself?

MARC: Do you hear that noise, Tal? That annoying whine, like a mosquito or maybe a sore loser that can’t take a hint?

DAMIEN: Sore loser!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): While we prepare for the finals, can we please ask Sir Angelo and Talfryn to report to the announcers’ podium?

TALFRYN: Sir Marc… something weird is going on here.

DAMIEN: It was single combat, villain! Have you no honor?

MARC: Weird is right, Tal. That buzzing just won’t stop!

TALFRYN: No, I mean… the way they keep saying damsel doesn’t sound right. And then they made that weird noise—

DAMIEN: I am speaking to you, Salamander!

MARC: Hold on just a second, Tal. I think Damien might be trying to say something.

You wanna repeat that, pal?

DAMIEN: You have earned the name more than once today. Sir Angelo was the better warrior and you knew it, so you brought in something he couldn’t beat. That is not a duel!

TALFRYN: Marc…

MARC: The event was not called “duel.” It was called “single combat,” and the rules were—

DAMIEN: Vague! Which you used to your vile advantage!

MARC: I strategized!

TALFRYN: But Marc…!

VOICE 3: Come with me, hon.

TALFRYN: Oof!

MARC: Just because you two were over there yukking it up about how Angelo was going to beat down the helpless “belly-dragging salamander” when you should have been talking strategy—

DAMIEN: How dare you accuse me of such vile intent! A knight wouldn’t… I wouldn’t! You earned that moniker with your wickedness, with your lies, with your—

ANGELO: (IN BACKGROUND) Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup hup!

MARC: That doesn’t mean you get to whine ‘cause I found an edge and took it! You’re an idiot if you don’t prepare before a fight, I outsmarted you, deal with it!

ANGELO: (IN BACKGROUND) Sir Damien, did you see that battle! One of the best—

DAMIEN: Belly-dragging? That is not even what salamander means!

MARC: Don’t be dense—

DAMIEN: I can’t believe you would suggest that I would call you something so vile!

MARC: And another thing! If you cared so much about it being a fair fight you never would’ve let me go in there without my horse, you—

MUSIC: STARTS.

Huh?

DAMIEN: Where are Sir Angelo and your brother?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Welcome back, ladies! The finals might not be here just yet, but we have something special for you right up on the announcers’ podium. Anything you want to say to the crowd, boys?

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Marc! Help!

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): The Budkin woman has arms like steel rods, Talfryn! I can’t move an inch!

MARC: Talfryn!

DAMIEN: Angelo!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Y’know, it seems like most of them just say “help,” Sunny. Why is that?

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): There’s no understanding men or humans, Pit; you’re just going to tire yourself out taking on both.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (LAUGHS) Ain’t that the truth! Say, I got a question for our boys here.

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): (STRUGGLING) Ha ha, this is it! I can feel her strength flagging beneath the mighty effort of Sir—

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): (GRUNTS)

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): (WINDED, PAINED) Nevermind.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Just had to tighten my headlock. Go ahead, Pitley!

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): You both played a great game out there, boys, some of the best sport we’ve seen yet. How’s it feel to know that within half an hour, one of you’s going to be dead?

MARC & DAMIEN: What?!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): I don’t know about Talfryn, Pitley, but it sounds like Sir Angelo here’s overcome with emotion! He’s speechless!

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): That’s because you’re squeezing his windpipe!

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): Oh, is that what that’s for?

ANGELO (FROM MICROPHONE): (DEEP BREATH, COUGHING)

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): Learn something new every day, Sunny. Speaking of which—

VOICE 3: (OVER THE BELOW) The finals are in the hedged arena, champions. Don’t want to leave the crowd waiting.

PITLEY (FROM MICROPHONE): (IN BACKGROUND) —let’s talk strategy for a second: do you think you boys would’ve done anything differently if you knew that your lives were riding on this game?

DAMIEN: Well… I… suppose…

Saints forgive me.

TALFRYN (FROM MICROPHONE): Maaaaaarc!

MARC: Don’t worry, Tal. I’ll get you. No matter what it takes.

SUNNY (FROM MICROPHONE): This is it, ladies and germinators! Does Marc the Salamander have sharp enough wits to cut through the competition and save his brother? Or will Sir Damien the Pious take his prize with only his bow and divine favor on his side?

Who will save the damsel? Who will win the tournament? Who is the better knight, and the better man? Find out… in the final round of SPORT!

NYMPH CROWD: (CHEERING)

MUSIC: ENDS.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Jason Mellin, Matthew Zahnzinger, and M Sutherland, and co-creator Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

M: …Two or three times reading that script.

JASON: Yes. Uh… (CHUCKLES) I dunno why Caves of Discord is the only one using real name—

M: “You should smile more!” (GAGGING)

JASON: Ohh, god, yeah.

Um, since I’m the host, uh, could we go– uh, and we are recording this before hearing the first Second Citadel episode of the, uh, half season; um, could we go around and say what aspects of Lord Arum we like the most? Just like, what do you think is the most, uh, interesting or attractive about Lord Arum…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Garrett A Miller, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, The Sportive Nymphs, was told by the following people: Stefano Perti as Sir Marc, Jason Mellin as Talfryn, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, M Sutherland as Sir Angelo, Kristie Norris as Sunny Budkin, and Allison Choat as Pitley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE MONSTER’S REFLECTION (PART THREE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

Pay no mind to our train’s backwards motion, dear Traveler. We are now passing through decades of the past.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Our next stop? Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING. RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

VOICE 7 (FROM RADIO): …Eh-eh-eh-ehndromeda! How did you get here? The waves around Queen Pisces’ castle are ih-ih-ih-impossible to escape!

ANDROMEDA (FROM RADIO): Your cursed waves are powerful, Capricorn – but in suffering’s wake my chains always sail true. Chain Whip!

SOUND: METAL CHAIN CLANKS.

VOICE 7 [CAPRICORN] (FROM RADIO): (YELPS) My staff! B-b-b-b-but that was the only way off this island! We’ll neh-eh-eh-ever get home!

ANDROMEDA (FROM RADIO): And because of you neither will Prince Pod, warlock. Chainmail Fist! Haaaaaaaaaah!

CAPRICORN (FROM RADIO): Nooooo… (FADES OUT)

TURBO (FROM RADIO): The good guys always win!

JUNO: Nope.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): It’s a fact— (FADING OUT)

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): A cop? You? (LAUGHS) You look so smug. Counting your chickens before they’ve hatched. A year from now, you’ll be stunning some homeless half to death and you’ll be too stubborn to admit you never even wanted chickens anyway. (CHUCKLES) I called the cops when you handed our lives away. Came in, looked around, and left with two thousand creds in family heirlooms, and a hell of a story for the old water cooler. “Kid said he was robbed by a cartoon! And his mom believed him! Haw haw!” Stupid. Stupid!

You’ll fit right in with people like that.

I’m right, aren’t I? Biting other people so you don’t get bit. You’ve been like that from minute one. I paid a lot of creds to make you and your brother happen on my own, and for nine months you fed on my insides, and every day since you’ve carved off a piece of my life, and now that there’s nothing left, you want something bigger to chew on.

What the hell are you still doing here? You took your bite. Go choke on it.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: (SIGHS)

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

Come on… come on, there’s got to be something on this stupid—

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …whole sun was covered in shifting darkness, the sky blotted out completely by the millions of butterflies the king had sent them. And so the harpies were trapped. They could never see the sun, and they could never fly to the top of their mountain, and they could never look out over the ocean, from what had been the mountain’s peak, but was now the king’s high tower. And they felt deep in their hearts that all things beautiful had been taken from them… except one. And so what did they do?

JUNO: They sang.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. STATIC ENDS.

SARAH: (LAUGHS) That’s right, my little monster. They sang. They sang their sad, sad song just like they always did, with the long notes like cloud-swirls, and the short ones like raindrops, and even when they weren’t so sad anymore, they still sang the same sad song, because it was what they wanted, and it was how they knew they would always be harpies, and no king could change that.

BEN: What’s playing? Anything good?

JUNO: This is the… last good night.

BEN: Not even you could believe that—

JUNO: Shh.

SARAH: And when the king heard the harpies’ song he became sad again, and when he realized he was sad, he got angry. So he parted the wall of butterflies and he asked, “Harpies! How could you be so ungrateful? I heard your sad songs, I found out you like colors and butterflies, and so I gave them to you – every butterfly in the entire world! And still, you sing so sadly? Why aren’t you grateful?”

The king couldn’t see what the harpies saw, or hear what they heard, and even when they spoke, he did not care to listen. But if he had, he might have learned that even without a single butterfly, the harpies had everything they wanted: a sky, an ocean, a home where they could be sad if they wanted, and voices to let the air know it.

Juno? Benzaiten? Are you asleep?

Because I missed my boys so much today… and if they were just pretending to fall asleep to trick Mommy…

SOUND: CHILD GIGGLES.

There you are! Wanna watch something?

SOUND: TV TURNS ON.

MUSIC: FROM TV.

JUNO: I meant our last good night in Halcyon. A few hours after Turbo came.

I didn’t ask you to come back.

BEN: Maybe not out loud, but, I felt it. That’s a brother thing, not a brain-ghost thing.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. CLOCK TICKING.

(AFTER A PAUSE) So…? what’ve you been up to?

JUNO: Flipping through stations. Trying to find something.

BEN: Like what?

JUNO: I don’t know. Something’s just… wrong.

BEN: Sniffing around like always. You know I could never even touch your stuff without you knowing it? Ever? I’d take pictures, and memorize exactly where I found it, and then I’d put it back exactly right… but you always caught me.

JUNO: Sounds like a pretty easy problem to avoid. Just don’t touch my stuff.

Or my brain. Could you let go of that, too? Kinda using it right now.

BEN: Can’t. I live here now. (CHUCKLES)

Mom used to be a pretty good storyteller, wasn’t she?

JUNO: Is that why you stayed with her? Her stories?

BEN: (SIGHING) Juno…

JUNO: Right. I don’t know, you don’t know.

BEN: So? You wanna go solve a mystery?

JUNO: I mean, yeah, but—

BEN: Then let’s do it.

JUNO: Jeez, Benten, you’re dead and I still can’t get a word in edgewise. Do I want to figure this out? Sure. But I can’t even tell what the hell I’m supposed to be figuring out anymore.

BEN: So all this makes perfect sense to you. Old bedroom, a haunted radio and clock and everything?

JUNO: I mean, obviously not, but…

What was that?

BEN: Forget it. Just keep going.

JUNO: I mean… sure, this place is weird, but… your death, Mom killing you – I can’t find any leads. There are none of those weird patches, the parts that don’t make sense. There’s just a… bunch of stuff I don’t know.

BEN: Sounds frustrating. Also, doesn’t actually sound like a problem.

JUNO: The hell are you talking about? A case without any leads is a dead end, Ben! It ends here!

BEN: Alright. Then it ends here.

JUNO: That’s what I just said! It ends…

…here.

Your murder… that’s not the case I’m here to solve, is it?

BEN: It’s already been solved, Juno. Almost twenty years, now.

JUNO: It was, but—

BEN: They linked the laser burns to the gun with her fingerprints on it. She confessed. It… was a pretty simple case.

JUNO: But… what about her pills?

BEN: Lost ‘em. She lost things all the time.

JUNO: And why—

BEN: She told you. About twenty minutes after she did it.

JUNO: But… you…

Why did you stay with her, Benten? Why?

BEN: (CHUCKLES) Man, it used to drive me nuts when you’d listen to the same song for two weeks. Think how I must feel listening to these same questions on repeat for two decades, huh?

JUNO: It just… it didn’t have to happen. I keep thinking that—there were a million ways it could have been avoided, it– it just feels like… like…

BEN: Almost nothing has to happen, Juno. Things just… do. Then the world’s different, and more things happen later.

Like… like a road trip. Right? You just keep driving forward and sometimes the car stops for a minute so you can get out, look around, imagine staying there forever. And then someone says the car’s leaving, with or without you. And you’ll miss that place, sure. You might regret leaving. But, if you want to keep seeing what’s ahead… you gotta get back in the car.

I’m sorry I’m not on the road with you anymore. I miss it, if that’s worth anything.

JUNO: I miss it too, I just… (SNIFFLES)

…Okay. So your murder’s not the case. Fine. Then… what the hell; why the hell am I here?

BEN: Business again, huh?

I don’t know, man. Maybe you and I aren’t the point.

JUNO: Who else? It messed my life up, it killed you, so who—

…Mom. That day she was talking about. You think… Mom’s the victim?

BEN: Theeeere we go.

JUNO: (SNORTS) You want me to feel bad for her? You know how many victims she made in her life?

BEN: Yup. But, I never said we have to forgive her. And the Turbo thing doesn’t make sense, and you said when you’re solving a mystery, you start with what doesn’t make sense. Ipso-facto, presto-changeo, sounds like a mystery to me. Can we go now?

JUNO: I’m not going to forgive her! She’s just evil.

BEN: Seems like a strong word.

JUNO: If she wasn’t evil, then who the hell is, Ben—

BEN: Didn’t mean evil. I meant just.

JUNO: But…! She…! You…!

BEN: (YAWNS) Listen—

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

—Super-Steel, I get that you have all these questions, but we’re kind of running out of time, here.

RADIO ANNOUNCER: At the sound of the tone, the time will be. Eleven fifty-three PM.

SOUND: TONE.

BEN: So?

JUNO: (GROWLS) Fine.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF. SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES.

BEN: Let’s start like last time.

JUNO: ‘Cause that worked so well.

BEN: My turn, shut up, thanks! So, tell me: what doesn’t line up here? Besides the cartoon part. Also, the robbing us blind without actually taking anything part.

JUNO: (SIGHING) I don’t know.

BEN: Nothing she did or said that doesn’t make sense?

JUNO: I don’t know what to tell you, alright? She was barely even home that day. It was just us, alone, and then we broke something—

SOUND: STATIC FADES IN.

—because we were alone, and then you ran outside alone, and…

Hang on.

BEN: Here we go!

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. STATIC ENDS, BIRDS CHIRPING DISTANTLY.

JUNO: She checked her locks constantly.

BEN: Yeah, you’ve proven that, like, three times. So what?

JUNO: So how the hell did you run outside, Ben? If she checked every lock a million times, how the hell would she leave the front door open?

BEN: Well, she was irresponsible. You said so yourself.

JUNO: Sure, irresponsible. But she wasn’t stupid.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …rules, okay? Be safe, stay together, and don’t go into the office. You won’t be alone long, I promise. Mommy loves you.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

…missed my boys so much today…

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

…came home as soon as I heard, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, my little monsters, I didn’t—

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: …Wait, what?

BEN: What what?

JUNO: I don’t remember that. We didn’t hear that one before, did we?

BEN: Uhhh, good ear, officer.

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR, DOORKNOB RATTLING.

SARAH: (ECHOING) Juno! Benten! Just hold on one minute, I’m almost—

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Oh, you’re okay! Oh my god, you’re okay!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES, CLUNK. QUICK FOOTSTEPS.

I came home as soon as I heard, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, my little monsters, I didn’t know, c’mere.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

I missed you. I should never have left like—it was stupid, stupid! But I’m so glad you’re okay. I’m sorry, Juno, I’ll do better, Benten, I promise, I– I’ll…

I’m so glad you’re okay. When things settle down, it’ll be different. After tomorrow I promise I’ll be… all better.

JUNO: That was… new.

BEN: Almost forty years old, actually.

JUNO: (SNORTS)

BEN: Think about it. That memory’s been inside you this whole time, waiting. So why’d it take ‘til now for you to remember?

JUNO: I…

…I don’t think I would’ve believed it if I saw it.

BEN: You said to start with what’s weird, right? Weirdest thing here is you, easy. Mom comes up and all you can talk about is monsters and pure evil and—

JUNO: I lose the evidence. If I’m the tool all this evidence gets collected through, I have to… think about what the tool’s weaknesses are.

BEN: And strengths.

JUNO: Easy for you to say. It’s just so hard to remember her like that. Even now, I can feel it slipping. Like it was all so real a minute ago, but now—

BEN: Then use it now. Mom came home and said all that. What does that tell you?

JUNO: She was… surprised? She didn’t expect to be gone that long, or maybe, she didn’t expect us to be home alone?

SOUND: BANGING ON DOOR, DOORKNOB RATTLING.

The door.

The door was locked when she got home, but unlocked when you left.

BEN: We could’ve done it.

JUNO: That door needed a key. Every lock in here was analog and only Ma had the keys.

BEN: But she locked the office.

JUNO: I mean, yeah, obviously. She never wanted anybody to go in there; she even had a different key for it. So if she left the door open, that means, she must have been expecting someone. Expecting…

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

A babysitter.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …don’t go into the office. You won’t be alone long, I promise. Mommy loves you.

Come on, Steel, you stupid sap, hurry it up, can’t miss your bus, you— (CALLING) Oh, and be nice to the babysitter, you two! He’s supposed to be here in five minutes.

(OVERLAPPING WITH ABOVE LINE) Five minutes?! I don’t care what your records say, I reserved a babysitter two days ago, from eleven to four; you said, they were five minutes away, now I’m home and guess what? No babysitter! My kids were home alone all day! You could’ve killed them, you stupid—

Don’t you tell me how to raise my kids! If you knew what I was going through, I just needed one day, before tomorrow, or I was gonna– it’s not my fault, it’s not my—

Yeah, I’d like to lodge a complaint. I’d like to lodge a complaint right up your—!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: Remember when my guidance counselor quit the day after Mom came in to talk to him? That makes more sense now.

JUNO: Okay. Okay, now we’re gettin’ somewhere.

BEN: Like where? So Mom couldn’t figure out how to schedule a babysitter. Is that really so hard to believe?

JUNO: If it all started that day, maybe not, but… she said she reserved the babysitter two days before. She would’ve checked it a million times. She was like that about everything, her locks, her pills, her plans, it was constant.

So… okay. She scheduled a babysitter from eleven to four; they never showed and the service had no record of them, but she must’ve seen something, and that means that she left a reservation… somewhere.

BEN: Where?

JUNO: …I don’t know.

But I know who does.

SOUND: RADIO STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): And if anyone asks, you must tell them Turbo did it.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: So… a cartoon robbed us, and started up a phony babysitting service.

JUNO: No, but Turbo, whoever they were, knew exactly when to show up to rob the house. Right? And it’s not like they could’ve cased the place based on Mom’s past movements, either, because she barely ever left the office.

BEN: So you think someone lured her out, then broke in, and then… didn’t take anything?

JUNO: Exactly.

BEN: Why?

JUNO: That… I don’t know.

(QUIETER) I don’t know.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Evidence is all here, Steel, come on, think!

BEN: Don’t leave me out. We got the lead, we found the thing that doesn’t make sense. What’s next, officer?

JUNO: What?

BEN: Let’s trade. I’ll tell you how a pirouette works, if you tell me how a mystery does.

JUNO: I don’t care how a pirouette works.

BEN: Rude. Tell me anyway.

JUNO: I don’t know. Evidence, leads, it’s all…

You look at everything you got, you follow one lead until it’s dead, then you check the old ones with the new info and see if a new path opens, and…

What the hell was she doing that day, anyway?

BEN: I mean… we already heard, didn’t we?

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …things settle down, it’ll be different. After tomorrow I promise I’ll be… all better.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

…knew what I was going through, I just needed one day, before tomorrow, or I was gonna– it’s not my fault, it’s not my—

JUNO: Before tomorrow… the meeting where she lost her Northstar job.

That’s the motive.

BEN: What’s the motive—

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. STATIC ENDS.

Whoa.

???: Times have been hard. You know that. The coffers aren’t as full as they once were—

And cuts have to be made. Big ones. It’s not fair, but. There it is.

SOUND: STATIC FADES IN.

They’re only keeping one writer.

SARAH: What!

???: You’re on the list.

SARAH: Of course I’m on the list! I practically am the list!

JUNO: Not this time!

SARAH: God damn it. God damn it!

So how are they choosing?

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

BEN: Losing reception again…

JUNO: Yeah, I know!

SARAH: What kind of pitch?

SOUND: STATIC.

BEN: Remember, Juno. And if you can’t remember, think. Who does that have to be?

JUNO: (GRUNTING)

TURBO: (FADING IN, ECHOING) …but think about where the company is, Sarah! If they’re out of money, they’re out of money. They can’t hold us longer just to be nice.

SOUND: STATIC FADES.

JUNO: Got him!

SARAH: (ECHOING) They want a pitch in a month! They want the keys to the project that’ll save them in thirty days? Idiots. Idiots! (GRUNTS)

SOUND: GLASS SHATTERING.

I don’t even have to ask who my competition is, do I? It’s just you and me, isn’t it?

TURBO: The rest of the team’s already gone. They’re only hearing two pitches.

JUNO: Turbo.

SARAH: So they split up their best writing team and put them at each other’s throats. God damn it. God—!

SOUND: CLINK.

TURBO: I don’t see how tearing your apartment to pieces is going to solve this.

SARAH: I know, I just…!

Why the hell are they cutting creative?

TURBO: I don’t know!

SARAH: It doesn’t make any sense! We’re behind in the race, so we lose weight by dropping the engine? Why not drop a few zeroes from marketing, Killbourne or Li, or, or what about that jerk in R&D, what the hell’s his name, when’s the last time he did anything worth a damn for this company, huh? When?

Pitting us against each other… it’s sick. It’s sick, and it’s gonna get them nowhere.

TURBO: I know. And we have to do it.

SARAH: I know that.

(SIGHS) You have to leave. Now. I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t exactly tea and biscuits, but… if you stay here, I’m gonna do something stupid.

SOUND: CREAKING. FOOTSTEPS.

TURBO: Well, then.

I hope you’ll take care of yourself, Sarah.

SARAH: Shut up.

TURBO: Your work has always been excellent, but if the pressure gets too high… you know how paranoia can—

SARAH: Go!

TURBO: Right. Sorry. Goodbye, Sarah.

SARAH: Bye—

TURBO: Turbo!

JUNO: What?

SOUND: GUNSHOT, WIND HOWLING, STATIC.

Aghhh!

TURBO (FROM RADIO): —must tell them Turbo did it.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): It didn’t have to be this way! If he didn’t hand our lives over to Turbo—

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

BEN: Juno! You’ve gotta take control, man, you have to pull out of there!

JUNO: I… can’t…!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …handed our lives away, because someone said please.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

Where’s Turbo now, huh, Juno? Where is he!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

This stupid pitch! I don’t want to be like this, I’m trying, I’m trying, but then it’s like a trap door opens and I’m somewhere underground, somewhere everyone wants to get me, even– even you…

TURBO (FROM RADIO): It’s going to be alright, Sarah, just remember: (LOUD, ECHOING) The good guys always win!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

BEN: Juno, come on! I’m right here!

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. WIND & STATIC STOP.

JUNO: (PAINED YELL, PANTING)

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING. RADIO JINGLE.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): At the sound of the gunshot that killed your brother, it will be eleven fifty-seven PM.

JUNO: God damn it, no you don’t!

TURBO (FROM RADIO): It’s a fact—

SOUND: GUNSHOT CUT OFF BY RADIO CLICKING OFF. CLOCK TICKING CONTINUES.

BEN: (AFTER A PAUSE) You did better that time.

JUNO: Got enough lies to deal with as is; you mind not adding to the pile?

BEN: No, really! You pulled yourself out, and… it… was… shorter?

JUNO: Goody. (GROANS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

I don’t think I’ve got another one of those in me, Benten.

BEN: So… what? You’re just gonna die?

JUNO: Who cares?

BEN: You do, moron.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

BEN: Get up.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Get up.

JUNO: (MUFFLED) Hey, quit it—

BEN: You want to live. You care. Not caring’s been your get-out-of-problems-free card for years, and you don’t know how to do anything else. Now you do care and you’ve got no idea what to do with it. That’s not brave, that’s not even being depressed, Juno, it’s just being a dick.

JUNO: Well… I mean, if I’m a dick, it’s ‘cause—

BEN: You’re a private dick? Got there first! Punchline’s mine.

JUNO: Damn it!

BEN & JUNO: (GIGGLE)

SOUND: STATIC, RADIO JINGLE.

RADIO ANNOUNCER: At the sound of the tone, the time will be. Eleven fifty-eight PM.

SOUND: TONE. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: That sound can’t be good.

BEN: Juno? What’s up?

JUNO: Just a feeling. We’d better get started. We’ve still got a lot to figure out, and… not much time left.

BEN: Really? I think we’re pretty close. You got the where, when, why, and even the how and the who, kind of.

JUNO: You mean Turbo?

BEN: I mean whoever Turbo was. So what’s missing?

JUNO: Where, when, why, who, how… the what.

BEN: I mean, yeah; I just said what’s missing.

JUNO: What?

BEN: What, exactly.

JUNO: The hell are you—

(GROANS)

BEN: (LAUGHS) God, you’re easy.

JUNO: By what you mean what was stolen, right?

BEN: Yep.

JUNO: Nothing is the short answer. Mom said so herself; cops couldn’t find anything missing… besides what they took.

BEN: You think she would’ve gone that far off the rails over nothing?

JUNO: It’s a theory, alright? Imagine Mom realized the morning of the presentation that she’d got broken into, had a meltdown, and carried that meltdown with her all the way to work. Turbo could’ve messed with anything for that to happen. Just moved her chair a few inches to the left, she would’ve noticed.

BEN: Oh, come on. We’re back to this again? Crazy Sarah Steel with her hair-trigger?

JUNO: I didn’t say that.

BEN: Alright, let’s play it your way. Let’s assume Mom would’ve flipped no matter what was stolen. If that’s the case, the whole set up to this thing doesn’t make sense: the disappearing babysitter, Turbo at the door, all of it. It’s all pointless.

JUNO: Pointless. Pointless…

You’re right. If Mom’s hair-trigger really was that sensitive, Turbo could’ve messed with her anytime; hell, he could’ve just… chucked a brick through the window the morning of. Hoping she wouldn’t notice he’d entered ‘til the next morning, setting up a dummy babysitting service, telling me to keep quiet? That’s a big risk for no payoff.

I need to see the house again. Whatever Turbo took was in there, and, I think I know what it is.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. DISTANT BIRDS CHIRPING.

BEN: Our old bedroom? You really think he took something from here?

JUNO: Not here.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS. FOOTSTEPS.

The pitch meeting the next day; it wasn’t just that she flipped out. Her presentation… there was something wrong with her presentation, too.

BEN: What?

JUNO: One of her old coworkers said that a little over a month ago—

SOUND: STATIC.

—when I took a case in Polaris Park.

VEGA (FROM RADIO): …everything we’d made was on the line. We only had the money to keep one of our writers and then your mother, trying to steal someone else’s work…

JUNO: Her work. It was whatever she was working on. Turbo must’ve taken it. And that means—

BEN: Her office.

But, the door was locked. And what happened to “robbed us blind without taking a thing?”

JUNO: That’s the one part I don’t have yet.

But of course she’d flip over that. She was convinced it would help her, convinced.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …once this is over, I promise, Juno, Ben, my little monsters. Once this is all over, and I’ve finished this, I’m gonna be all better. No more worries, no more stress. Nothing like this is ever going to happen again. And I know, I’ve said that before but I mean it, I really do, you’ll see, and it’ll all… be worth it. Just, one more hour, please.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: She wanted to be all better, and she thought whatever she was working on would get her there.

That’s all that mattered to her; we were just hurdles on the way there.

BEN: But why did she think her work would… I don’t know, fix her?

JUNO: Who knows? She was nuts.

BEN: Right, good point. Why try to figure out the complexities of a human being when you can just throw her out in one word?

JUNO: Oh, drop it.

BEN: No, I think you’re onto something. Maybe next time I’m in a bookstore, I’ll just go down the biography aisle, tear out all the pages, write ‘nuts’ on every cover.

JUNO: I get the point.

BEN: Is that how you think of yourself? Like a few problems are enough reason to call yourself trash?

JUNO: What the hell do you know about problems, huh? Benzaiten Steel, Mr. Dancer, Mr. Everybody’s-Favorite, Mr. Galaxy’s-Best-Smile. The hell do you know about—

BEN: We’re both Sarah Steel’s kids, Juno. We both inherited that weight around her neck. Just because I dealt with it differently than you, doesn’t mean you get to pretend it wasn’t there.

I’m just saying. Crazy’s as bad as all better, and you know it. It’s an ending. We don’t get those, alive or dead.

JUNO: Okay, alright. She’s not crazy. I’m not crazy. You, though—

BEN: So why did she care about her work so much?

JUNO: Uh, what?

BEN: Some people work for money, fame, whatever. I danced ‘cause it felt like flying, like freedom, in a life where that was hard to come by. You bust bad guys because it makes you feel like the world’s got a shot. So what did Mom work for?

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

JUNO: How the hell am I supposed to—

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …if you want to live out there, you need someone to live for. You need someone else, so that when you’re not tough enough, they can be; so that right when you want to give up, you remember you can’t. Because you’ve got someone better than you to worry about.

And that’s what you are to me. I love you, my little monsters.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: …For… us?

But then why would she have—

All those things she did to me, to you…

BEN: Oh really. You don’t believe someone could be scared of not living up to what they love most? So scared they’d just… throw it away?

Also, are you really still mad about that Galaxy’s Best Smile thing?

JUNO: Shut up.

BEN: That was a poll in our third grade class, man. A bunch of kids thirty years ago writing names on slips of paper—

JUNO: We had the same goddamn smile, alright? Just shut up. It doesn’t matter.

BEN: (CHUCKLES)

JUNO: But… your point is, she was doing all that for us. Trying to, anyway. And even at the time she was roughest on us when we were interrupting her, or trying to sneak in here, or…

Because if we hurt her work, we’d be hurting ourselves. So…

I’ve got to get into that office.

SOUND: KNOCKING.

BEN: But… why?

JUNO: Evidence, something…

SOUND: KNOCKING.

I have to see what she was working on. Help me get in there.

BEN: I told you, if you didn’t see someplace in here, it’s just… nothing.

JUNO: I did see it.

BEN: What? We never went into Mom’s office. She would’ve killed us.

JUNO: You were there too, Ben. We were in Mom’s office before Turbo ever showed up.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): …I’ll just go into her office now… put it all back together… nobody will know…

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: You hear that? Whatever we broke was in her office.

BEN: I mean… I guess that makes sense, but—

JUNO: Found it. A little piece of plastic from one of the Turbos. It’s wedged in the doorframe here so the bolt can’t close all the way. I remember… that’s why I remember the analog locks. I bothered Mom for hours trying to figure out how they worked, her and…

BEN: Mom and who?

SOUND: STATIC.

JUNO: I don’t know.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): (ECHOING) It’s a fact!

JUNO: We have to get in there. How the hell did this work? Just, grab the plastic and push?

SOUND: CLICKING, FOOTSTEPS.

BEN: Stop. Move over.

JUNO: Wha—

BEN: You always figured out the trouble. But I was better at doing it.

JUNO: You’re right.

SOUND: CLICKING, SCRAPING.

BEN: Hook it… so it can’t come loose… make sure I don’t lose that little part… push… and then…

Done.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

Juno, I don’t know if… I don’t know what it is, but, I don’t think I can…

JUNO: It’s okay. I’ll go in. You just… stay here.

BEN: Alright.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: It’s a mess in here, obviously. She was like that, paper everywhere…

SOUND: PAGES FLIPPING.

Was Mom an artist?

BEN: (DISTANT, CALLING) Writer, I thought.

JUNO: These must just be doodles, then, or… test runs, or something. Two little alien-looking guys, a bull, a ram, and… dragons.

That’s not what we were fighting over, though.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

It smells like her. This room, it smells like… crisp paper and bourbon. Files, folders…

Ink stain on the carpet. I bet we knocked something over here.

BEN: (DISTANT, CALLING) So, this was the first time we ever went into her office?

JUNO: Might’ve been. There was something we both wanted to look at, something we’d been waiting for…

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): You can say please as many times as you want, kiddos, it’s not gonna happen.

BEN: (DISTANT) Holy hell, I thought that was really her for a second, almost jumped out of my—

JUNO: Shhhhh.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): (OVER THE LINES ABOVE) I know you want to see Mommy’s next project. You and everyone else… seems like nobody can shut up about it, you or—

SOUND: STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): It’s a fact!

SARAH (FROM RADIO): But this one’s… important to Mommy, okay? I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, and… it’s gonna bring us home, my little monsters. We’re finally gonna go—

SOUND: DISTANT BOOM. STATIC ENDS.

TURBO: (DISTANT) Steady your crying now, young hero, and Turbo will help you with turbo speed!

BEN: Hurry, Juno. We have to get out of here.

JUNO: We wanted to see the next big project. Those sketches wouldn’t’ve satisfied us. The real stuff, where would she keep—

SOUND: THUDS.

TURBO: Your brother Benten broke it, you say! And your mother will be angry!

BEN: Juno…!

JUNO: Couldn’t’ve reached the filing cabinets, wouldn’t’ve gone in her desk, so—

Wrong question. It’s not where we found it, it’s where we put it after you ripped it.

Carpet around the potted plant’s a mess. Not Mom’s kind, not papers and booze and ideas, just… dirt.

SOUND: RUSTLING, CLINKS. SCRAPING. THUDS.

TURBO: Here comes – the Man of the Future!

BEN: (DISTANT) Juno, I’m trying to hold on, but the closer he gets—

JUNO: Found it!

This is it! This is…!

BEN: (DISTANT, FADING) I’m sorry! I can’t stay, I wasn’t—

SOUND: WIND BLOWING. PAPER RUSTLING. THUDS.

JUNO: Proposal: New Intellectual Property for Northstar Entertainment, designed by Sarah Steel. Tentatively named…

Chainmail Warrior Andromeda.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKING.

You did this. You stole her project. She didn’t show up empty-handed, she showed up with the Galaxy’s greatest hero.

VOICE 8: Juno? What are you doing here?

SOUND: DOOR SHUTS.

What’s wrong? Where’s Benzaiten?

JUNO: You lied to me. You used me. I trusted you, whoever the hell you were, and you used me.

VOICE 8: Ran outside… really?

Too brave for his own good, that boy…

Not like you, Super-Steel, eh? You and I, we like to watch, to learn. Shhh, don’t cry, now. You’re a smart boy; now use that big brain of yours and think.

JUNO: Who are you?

VOICE 8: You have to calm down, Super-Steel. Shhhh-sh-sh-sh-sh. Nobody’s going to let anything happen to Benten, nobody. But first you have to calm down.

JUNO: God damn it, stop haunting me! Don’t hide again! Just show your goddamn face so I know it’s you!

VOICE 8: Come on, it’s me. Take a deep breath and say it with me, Juno.

JUNO: Show it!

VOICE 8: It’s a fact…

JUNO & VOICE 8: (IN UNISON) I can count on Jack!

SOUND: GUNSHOT. WIND HOWLING.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Bye, Jack.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

My little monsters, look who it is! Jack’s here!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

VOICE 8 [JACK] (FROM RADIO): Be careful, Sarah. Paranoid behavior…

SARAH (FROM RADIO): I know, Jack, I know, I…

JACK (FROM RADIO): You have to rest. A day off, perhaps. A babysitter—

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): How could you do this to me? To them! They love you! They still ask for you, Jack Takano, and—

SOUND: GUNSHOT. WIND STOPS.

JUNO: (PANTING)

JACK: There you go. See? I’m proud of you. (GRUNTS) Now. Tell old Jack what happened, hm?

JUNO: It wasn’t me. It was my turn. Benten ripped it.

JACK: I can see that. My, he really did a number on this, didn’t he? And with Sarah so high-strung these days…

You don’t think she’d hurt him, do you?

JUNO: Where is Ben? Where—

JACK: We’ll find him in a moment, but first… there must be some way out of this, hmm? We don’t want your brother to get hurt, not even a risk of it, we love him, of course…

Ahhhh! An idea! But, you must have had the same one, right? A smart boy like you.

JUNO: Where’s Ben?

JACK: Shhh, Juno, now isn’t the time. You want to be good, don’t you? You want to help people like your friend Turbo, hanging in your hand there?

SOUND: SQUEAK.

TURBO (FROM TOY): Have you helped anyone yet today?

JACK: See? Your mother and I made Turbo together, you know. She loves a hero. She always tells me, “Jack, my boy Juno is going to grow up to do such good things for people – just like you.” (CHUCKLES) Well, maybe I added that last part. I’ve been thinking about it myself, you see, a great deal.

And so I will take away all the broken things, and leave behind copies, so she never has to know. That way Ben is safe, your mother is happy… it’s the best outcome we could hope for, isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

JUNO: Yes, Jack.

JACK: In everyone’s best interest, what we’re doing here today. I should take it, she could never handle it, the pressure, and the company, and all those people…

(CHUCKLES, SIGHS) But being good is always hard, Juno. And when you do it, a part of you feels… lost. Like you took the wrong turn somewhere.

JUNO: We have to help Ben.

JACK: We are, Juno. We are.

Listen here.

SOUND: WATCH TICKING.

JUNO: (GASPS)

JACK: Do you hear that ticking, Juno? Lined all in a row they seem like they’ll never end, don’t they – but one day, you and I will both hear our last tock.

JUNO: …it’s… you.

JACK: (VOICE SLOWLY TURNS INTO RAMSES) And so… if we want to do as much good as we can before our time is out… we don’t always have time to ask for permission first. It is sad, but… aren’t so many things?

(CLEARS HIS THROAT) But we can’t have your mother finding out… I couldn’t bear what might happen.

SOUND: SQUEAK.

TURBO (FROM TOY): Here comes Turbo! The Man of the Future!

RAMSES: (VOICE SLOWLY TURNS INTO JACK) That’s just it. Look at me. A great many good people rest on your small shoulders, Juno Steel. If you want to be good… you must say nothing. No matter what. For Ben’s sake, and for yours. Do you understand?

And if anyone asks, you must tell them Turbo did it.

(GRUNTS) People need to be helped. I’m glad you agree.

Farewell, my partner in good.

SOUND: STATIC. GUNSHOT. WIND HOWLING.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Turbo?!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

You little idiot, I oughta—

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

I love you, my little monsters. It’s gonna be okay. We’re going to find a way to… it’s gonna be okay.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

JACK (FROM RADIO): Your mother will be fine. She needs our help, whether or not she accepts it, so we all have to try to—

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Stop sending me money! I don’t want your charity, I don’t want your pity, I want you to give back what you took!

Don’t play dumb! I know it was you, Turbo! I know it was you, and I know you were scared of me, you’ve always been scared of me. Because you knew I was better than you—

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

VEGA (FROM RADIO): Well, we were all a little scared of her, of course. Jack is really the only one who could ever… talk to her. So for her to accuse him? Well, none of us believed her, even for a second. Jack’s one of the most dependable men I know. Still, the way she betrayed his kindness… horrible. It makes me shudder to think it.

VOICE 9 (FROM RADIO): Could you say a little more about that fear, Dr. Vega? Did she ever threaten any of you, or…?

VEGA (FROM RADIO): No, no, no, nothing of the sort. Nothing you’d believe she really meant. But a person like that, well… they’re unpredictable, aren’t they? There’s no telling what they might do. (LAUGHS) Why, I-I-I think… I think steal isn’t even the right word for it. The way she watched Jack’s presentation before her own, the hate in her eyes… I wouldn’t be surprised at all if Sarah really believed she had made Andromeda. A mind like hers, powerful, but so chaotic…

Inevitable. Nothing any of us could have done. Tragic, and… inevitable.

VOICE 9 (FROM RADIO): And is there anything you’d like to add, Mr. Takano?

JACK (FROM RADIO): Of course, we all wish Sarah the best…

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): A restraining order, Takano? You didn’t even have the guts to say it to my face?

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

JACK (FROM RADIO): …and I hope she knows we believe in her fully. I certainly do. And once she gets past this, once she understands why we had to act as we did… she is an incredibly talented woman. I am confident that she has a bright future ahead of her.

SOUND: GUNSHOT, STATIC & WIND END.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: (PANTING)

SARAH: You took your sweet time getting here. What’s the matter? Had something better to do?

JUNO: This day… again.

Mom?

SARAH: It’s been months since you’ve seen old Ma, and I don’t even get a hello?

JUNO: No. I’m not gonna play this game again.

SARAH: So you can do what, exactly? Think for a second. You never. Think.

JUNO: Stop it. I want to talk to you.

SARAH: Or, y’know, if you don’t think you can manage that, why don’t you just sit down, and shut—

JUNO: I said I want to talk to you!

SARAH: (AFTER A PAUSE) Fine. You wanna talk? Let’s talk.

JUNO: I—

SARAH: Just sit. You look like an idiot standing there, gearing up for a moral crusade.

You look tired, too.

JUNO: Hmph.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

SARAH: So? You got something you wanna say to me?

JUNO: Don’t think this means I forgive you.

SARAH: Ha! Why would you? I don’t.

JUNO: Doesn’t make this any better either.

SARAH: Sanctimonious… you were always like this. Holding people to standards too high to reach, you miserable little monster.

JUNO: Maybe, alright? Maybe I am sanctimonious. Maybe there were times when I was unfair to you, and maybe sometimes when I hurt you it really was my fault. But I am not a monster.

And neither were you.

SARAH: (LAUGHS) So, I’ve received your blessing, have I? Oh, thank you, kind sir! My spirit has been freed! No longer will I haunt—

JUNO: Not my blessing. Not my forgiveness. Listen. For years now, it’s felt like you were the beast lurking inside me. Like the part of me with the short fuse and the bruised knuckles had a name and that name was Sarah Steel, and every time I felt you in my hands, or heard you in my voice it was a sign that my days were numbered. That one day I was gonna be just like you. Causing as much pain as you. Feeling as much pain as you.

SARAH: And now you’re finally ready to get rid of me. So he’s an exorcist, too.

JUNO: No. I’m not getting rid of you. I’ve tried that already and it doesn’t work. You are always going to be a part of me. I am always going to do bad things and feel you in them.

But you weren’t a monster, Mom. You were just a person. A person who let her own hurt pour out and hurt other people, yeah. But…

SARAH: …But what?

JUNO: No, not but.

And. You hurt people and you cared about them. And you scared people and you made things nobody else could make. And you were brave, Ma, brave enough to push yourself as hard as you could, and you weren’t smart enough or patient enough or something enough to see that you never should’ve pushed yourself that far in the first place.

And I don’t have to be scared every time I feel you in me anymore.

SARAH: (AFTER A PAUSE) Little monster’s all grown up, isn’t he?

JUNO: Not yet. Workin’ on it.

SARAH: Lazy. How much longer you gonna take?

JUNO: Got a due date penciled in for a few seconds before I die, but I might ask for an extension.

SARAH: (LAUGHS) Look at you. A real hero. Funny, too.

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING.

(SIGHS) The last hero I ever made. I put so much of myself in her. The Homeless Hero. Then even she turned on me, and after that, hell, it was just… hard.

But look at you.

JUNO: Uh… sure. I’m lookin’.

SARAH: Principled. Strong. Stronger than I was.

And now you saw him do it. Now you know Benzaiten wasn’t my fault—

JUNO: Nope, that definitely was.

SARAH: Not all my fault. Jack, Ramses, whatever you call him… he took our life from us, Juno. Think of where you could be, where Benten could be, if he hadn’t done that. I think about it all the time. I think about it so much it makes me wanna puke, and I keep thinking about it.

JUNO: I… what?

SARAH: He ruined our life. He’s the monster. You’re the hero. And what do heroes do to monsters, Juno?

JUNO: Back off, Ma, I’m not—

SARAH & TURBO: (IN UNISON) Kill him.

JUNO: What?

SARAH: He took away our home, and we can never go back. You have to punish him for it, Juno.

JUNO: I’m– I’m not gonna—

SARAH: Then you’re just going to let him go free? You’re going to let Benzaiten die for nothing?

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: (GASPS)

SARAH: Coward. Lazy little coward. Stand up and fight, Juno, and when you meet true evil on the road, you do not walk on until his body lies dead in the dust, because—

SARAH & TURBO: The good guys always win.

JUNO: No.

SARAH & TURBO: A hero heeds the call.

SOUND: THUDS.

JUNO: No!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

TURBO: Stop right there, Juno!

JUNO: (PANTING)

TURBO: (ECHOING) Have you helped everyone today? Did you know? You can count on Juno! You have finite breaths, detective!

BEN: Juno! Over here! Quickly!

JUNO: Ben!

TURBO: (ECHOING) You have finite lives to save! Feeling good isn’t the point.

BEN: Grab on!

TURBO: (ECHOING) Doing good… that’s what you’re for.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. CLOCK TICKING. RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): Turbo’s here with turbo speed!

BEN: Juno, I can’t turn it off!

TURBO (FROM RADIO): I hired you looking for a bodyguard!

SOUND: RATTLING.

I found a partner in good!

JUNO: The clock!

BEN: What about the dumb clock?

JUNO: When we were in our real bedroom today, did you hear a clock? We never had one! And this… isn’t a clock, either! (GRUNTS)

TURBO (FROM RADIO): This is my city!

SOUND: CRACK. GLASS SHATTERING.

I’m not proud of it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth saving!

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

TURBO (FROM RADIO): (VOICE WARPING) We could do some real good together!

SOUND: WATCH TICKING. STATIC FADES. GLASS TINKLING.

BEN: You’re right. It’s not a clock. It’s…

JUNO: A watch.

SOUND: TICKING STOPS.

BEN: (AFTER A PAUSE) So. Long day?

JUNO & BEN: (LAUGHING)

JUNO: Benten… buddy, I don’t know how I could’ve done it without you. I don’t… (SIGHS) Come on… sit down. Stay a while.

BEN: (CHUCKLES) I’d love to, man.

SOUND: RADIO JINGLE.

You know there’s nothing I’d love more.

But…

RADIO ANNOUNCER 2: At the sound of the tone, the time will be. Midnight. Please move your calendars forward to a new day.

SOUND: TONE. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: This is it, isn’t it?

But we barely got to talk, and I fought with you, and…

BEN: Not enough time? Meaner than we should’ve been? Sounds like life to me, Juno, and it’s calling one of us now.

SOUND: DISTANT THUNDER.

JUNO: I don’t know if I can do this, Ben. Not again.

BEN: I bet it feels that way.

JUNO: All that, and now… nothing?

So, what, I found out that the jerk in my present is the same as the jerk in my past? I found out I have some superhero in me, shouting platitudes about being good? And after all that I don’t even get two seconds, to just be with you, just to—

BEN: You found out more than that.

JUNO: Like what, Ben? Like what?

BEN: Why did I stay with Mom, Juno?

JUNO: What the hell kinda question is that? If I don’t know, you don’t know…

MUSIC: STARTS.

You stayed with Ma, because… you still saw the good things in her. When it all started to hurt, the only way I could deal with it was to look away from everything human and just see the monster, but… you could never stop seeing the person she could’ve been.

BEN: It wasn’t the right choice. It wasn’t a noble choice. But it was my choice.

And I think it’s about time you let me take responsibility for my choices. Okay?

JUNO: Okay, Benten. (SNIFFS) I love you so much.

BEN: I love you too.

Don’t miss your ride, Juno. You only get one.

JUNO: Goodbye, Benzaiten.

BEN: I’ll be right here when you need me, Super-Steel.

SOUND: BREEZE BLOWS.

MUSIC: FADES.

SOUND: ELECTRIC BEEPS, MACHINES HUMMING.

JUNO: (GROANS)

JACKET: (MUFFLED, TUNELESS HUMMING)

JUNO: Ben? Ben, where the hell—

This is… Hanataba’s.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was too scared to check. I checked anyway.

There was a bandage covering where the Theia had been, and I was alive. I was too tired to make it to the door. I barely had the energy to breathe, but… but on the bedside table lay two things: another page of Hanataba’s instructions… and the Theia Spectrum.

And it was so small. For such a huge nightmare, the thing itself was… just a little marble, still and dead.

I reached for the eye… then picked up the page instead. The instructions had only one step, written in doctor’s scrawl: “You are alive. This is the gift you have been given. Use it as you see fit. Signed, Hanataba.” Use it as I see fit, huh? (SNORTS) Not sure I’ve ever done that before.

Because when your world’s black and white, split clean down the middle into monsters and superheroes? When you spend all your time running away from your own blood or running towards some vague good nobody ever stopped to define, well… how you see fit never really comes up, does it? It’s all reactions, reflexes. Mom would do this, so I can’t; a good guy would do this, so I have to.

So, Steel. What do you want to do next?

The thought made sleep even heavier in my head, so I lay down a spell. It could wait, I thought. When you’re not always running towards something, from something… tomorrow can wait.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Matthew Zahnzinger and Kiki Samko, and co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

KIKI: …and I just, I listened to a lot of Juno monologues and I was trying to sort of, capture that… y’know, that… (SIGHS) That, quali– that, like, sort of—

SOUND: LAUGHTER.

Gravelly, like… whiskey, late-night quality, y’know, so. (CHUCKLES) Um, uh, which I just naturally have. Uh… um, and, uh, Andromeda was a lot of fun to develop because it has always been my goal to become a cartoon character…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Jay Iannuzzelli, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Marc Pierre as Benzaiten Steel, Kiki Samko as Sarah Steel and Chainmail Warrior Andromeda, Matthew Zahnzinger as Jack Takano, Ramses O’Flaherty, and Turbo, the Man of the Future, and Bob Mussett as Lorenzo Vega.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE MONSTER’S REFLECTION (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

Pay no mind to our train’s backwards motion, dear Traveler. We are now passing through decades of the past.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Our next stop? Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

BEN: So. How’d it start?

JUNO: (SIGHS) In Halcyon, obviously.

BEN: Back when things were alright.

JUNO: Eh. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. DISTANT BIRDS CHIRPING.

Sarah was still working for Northstar back then. Workin’ hard, too. Long days, long nights, and when she was home she was… fine? A lot of the time.

SOUND: RADIO STATIC.

BEN: Having something to do always helped her.

JUNO: It did. But even back then, she’d… have her moments.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): I told you to turn that thing off!

SOUND: CRASH.

Oh, I’m—

Mommy’s sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to… it was just… I’ll get a new monitor, but I just neede—

…Ughhh.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: But she was trying. You could tell she was trying, right?

JUNO: So?

BEN: That was always enough for me.

JUNO: Yeah, well. That was always your problem.

BEN: What, giving people a chance?

JUNO: Being a sucker. She was buying us. I was four years old and I could tell we were being bought.

You really couldn’t?

BEN: I don’t remember. You tell me.

JUNO: The Turbos. Those Turbo action figures and shirts and sheets and prototype toys she’d steal from the office. By the day it all went down I could always see it coming: every time Sarah Steel flipped at us, the next day she’d come home with another Turbo. Every time. She was buying us off so we’d love her and she could still get away with being…

…her.

BEN: Yeah, yeah, fine. I’m not convinced, but, it’s your story, Lady Raincloud. And then?

JUNO: She was buying us.

Until one day she just… suddenly wasn’t, anymore.

SOUND: RADIO STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Okay, you know I don’t understand all these numbers you’re throwing at me. Can you get to the point? I was in the middle of something.

??? (GARBLED, DISTORTED VOICE, FROM RADIO): Sarah, there’s really no need to get—

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Yeah, well, I already got, so. Hurry it up.

??? (FROM RADIO): (SIGHS)

JUNO: Who the hell—

BEN: Shhhh.

??? (FROM RADIO): Times have been hard. You know that. The coffers aren’t as full as they once were. And cuts have to be made. Big ones. It’s not fair, but. There it is.

They’re only keeping one writer.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): What!

??? (FROM RADIO): You’re on the list.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Of course I’m on the list! I practically am the list.

SOUND: STATIC BURSTS. VOICES DISAPPEAR.

JUNO: The hell?

BEN: Sounds like bad reception. What, you’ve never used a radio before?

JUNO: So is it a radio or my… whatever! Just give me the stupid thing.

SOUND: STATIC, VOICES FADE BACK IN.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Why the hell are they cutting creative?

It doesn’t make any sense! We’re behind in the race, so we lose weight by dropping the engine? Why not drop a few zeroes from marketing, Killbourne or Li, or, or what about that jerk in R&D, what the hell’s his name, when’s the last time he did anything worth a damn for this company… (FADES OUT)

JUNO: Damn it, lost it.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: So you had a question?

JUNO: Figured it out on my own, thanks.

BEN: Well, enlighten me.

JUNO: (SIGHS) There were always people in and out of the goddamn house. Million faces. Barely even got a chance to learn their names. That’s who that… jumble or whatever must’ve been.

BEN: Sounds like you think Mom was pretty popular. What happened to the monster angle?

JUNO: The worst monsters are the charming ones. Sarah Steel had a new friend every Friday, and by Monday she’d use ‘em up and we’d never see ‘em again.

So is it gonna sound like that every time I don’t know somebody? ‘Cause that’s a hell of a headache.

BEN: It might.

JUNO: Nope. Not putting up with that.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS ON, RADIO JINGLE.

RADIO VOICE: At the sound of the tone, the time will be—

SOUND: STATIC.

BEN: Heyyy, uh… what’s up?

JUNO: I’m sick of waiting to see where this dumb radio tunes next. If we’re gonna talk about what happened in the old house that day, I wanna hear the old house that day. See if I can jog anything.

SOUND: MUSIC FAINTLY THROUGH RADIO.

That sounds right.

BEN: I don’t know, man…

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES.

AMBIENT MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: That’s more like it.

BEN: Don’t rely on this too much, Super-Steel.

JUNO: Why not?

BEN: It’s not like you memorized every inch of the house that day, right? So, some of this is gonna be real, but, a lot of it’s gonna be informed. Your guesses from old stories and half-memories and things like that.

JUNO: So we won’t use anything we can’t confirm. What’s the problem?

God, look at this place—can you believe this was our life?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

BEN: Yep.

JUNO: Can’t believe how well I remember it. It’s a little fuzzy, but… I still know where everything is.

Dining room’s here, kitchen’s through there, tall windows—you could see Halcyon Park through them…

SOUND: BLINDS OPEN. BIRDS CHIRPING, FOUNTAIN BUBBLING.

(SIGHS) Just like that. I remember we used to beg her to go there all the time.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Stop whining! I know what I said, I don’t care what I said, so just shut the—!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: It was a nice park.

JUNO: Not that nice.

SOUND: BLINDS CLOSE, PARK NOISES STOP. FOOTSTEPS.

This apartment was huge, wasn’t it? All ground floor, too; she never could keep a paycheck more than a month.

And look at these locks!

SOUND: DOORKNOB RATTLES.

Analog! Got upsold by some grifter and ended up with the easiest place on the block to break into.

BEN: Juno—

JUNO: She was an easy target, I guess… paranoid, used to check these things like a thousand times before bed each night.

BEN: Juno?

JUNO: What?

BEN: You’re stalling. None of this happened on the day Mom was talking about.

JUNO: I’m just looking through my memories, like you said.

BEN: Staaaaaalling.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

BEN: Mom accused you of giving our lives away. So where’d it happen?

JUNO: I… don’t remember.

BEN: You remember she had analog locks, but you don’t remember this? Really?

JUNO: I told you I—

BEN: Nope, actually that does sound like you; forget I said anything.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

You wanna check out the kitchen?

JUNO: (SIGHS) Sure seems like you do.

BEN: After she found out her job was on the line she had a lot of guests in here, I remember. Why do you think she always brought them into the kitchen?

JUNO: ‘Cause she couldn’t cook, so eventually they’d take pity on her and make her something. Also, if she was gonna have a shouting match, seemed like she’d rather do it in here. Door’s right there; walls didn’t echo as much. And she had a lot of shouting matches over those next few months.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Don’t condescend to me! I said I’m not coming in today. Yeah, that’s right. And if you want it to be good, you’ll shut up and let me get back to—

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): I don’t care if you don’t like it, Benzaiten. And I don’t care if you don’t like that Ben doesn’t like it. I don’t have time to get another dinner, so stop whining, sit down, and eat!

Please. Please, just… (FADES OUT)

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: There was a lot of yelling for a while, I remember. Real happy home. The only good part about the whole thing was that we never saw her – she was always locked in her office.

BEN: I mean… come on. Not always.

JUNO: Oh, yeah. I’m sure you have so many nice memories of fun times in Mom’s office.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Stay out!

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

If I have to tell you two to leave me alone one more time—

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

Stop knocking… please, just… stop knocking…

SOUND: PAPER RIPS, CLATTERING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): Turbo’s here with turbo speed!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: What the hell…?

BEN: That’s interesting.

JUNO: No it isn’t.

BEN: Turbo, huh?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Hey, where the hell are you going?

BEN: Isn’t this what you call a lead, officer?

SOUND: RADIO TUNING. STATIC, RADIO CHIMES.

JUNO: God damn it, Ben! Stop!

BEN: Why? You weren’t moving. And it’s not like we’ve got forever in here.

RADIO VOICE: At the sound of the tone, the time will be eleven forty PM.

JUNO: (OVER THE ABOVE LINE) I know, I know. You’re right. This is just…

SOUND: TONE.

a lot.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

I’ll tell the story like I remember it. Just… let me tell it at my pace. Please.

BEN: Sure.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Sorry to do that to you, Super-Steel. But, you remember how it was. You were good at planning trouble, but I was always better at getting into it.

JUNO: Yeah, because you thought you were invincible. Moron. (SIGHS) The morning Sarah was talkin’ about… that was the first day she came out of the office for more than a few minutes. And we were excited. Of course we were excited – we were kids. We didn’t know any better.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

But that morning we woke up, and when we went into the living room Mom was already there.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

The monitor was on, and… Mom was sitting on the couch, bags under her eyes, watching a marathon of—

TURBO (FROM TV): It’s Turbo Saves the Day, brought to you by Northstar Entertainment!

JUNO: Yeah, that.

BEN: So we joined her.

TURBO (FROM TV): When last we left our hero, King Evil had poised his Disc of Darkness over Speed City…

KING EVIL (FROM TV): And that means lights out… for good! (CACKLES)

SARAH (FROM RADIO): How do you two like King Evil? He interesting?

Okay, huh… Not good enough. Can’t kid a kid like that. [STATIC] likes him, but… So long as the bad guys get their lights knocked out, I guess.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: That show really wasn’t great, was it?

JUNO: Yeah, well, Mom made it, so we—

BEN: So we…?

JUNO: So we had to like it.

BEN: Just like you had to carry a Turbo around with you all day, every day?

JUNO: Anyway.

Sarah started looking nervous after a while—shifting in her seat. And you and I—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

—could tell when a storm was coming, so, when she got up to call someone, we made ourselves scarce.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Back into our bedroom.

Always felt safe in here. Guess it felt like that door was enough to keep her out.

BEN: She respected our space. Even when we were that young.

JUNO: Not that day, she didn’t. We were in here playing with… I don’t know what. Then Sarah started fighting with someone on the comms.

SOUND: STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …know, but I can’t—

It’s just one day! You think I can’t make it one day?

Fine! I’ll… try calling again. Why not? Why the hell not? (FADES OUT)

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC FADES.

BEN: She didn’t do that fighting in here, though.

JUNO: No, she didn’t. But her next move was as stupid and careless as she was. An hour later she stormed in here, and you remember what she said?

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Benten. Juno. Mommy’s leaving now. You know the rules, okay? Be safe, stay together, and don’t go into the office. You won’t be alone long, I promise. Mommy loves you. (FADES OUT)

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: Alright, so that looks… fine?

JUNO: We were four, Ben.

BEN: She was a single mother, man! So the woman needed some space, so what—

JUNO: She was gone all day. That’s neglect.

BEN: Not if nothing bad happens. And she meant to come back earlier, obviously. She said she wouldn’t be that long.

JUNO: No, that’s pretty much still neglect. And besides—

BEN: You cops can be real buzzkills, can’t you?

JUNO: Something bad did happen, you moron!

SOUND: STATIC. PAPER RIPS, CLATTERING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

BEN: What was that?

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

JUNO: Don’t play dumb.

BEN: I’m… not…?

JUNO: C’mere.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. DOOR OPENS.

BEN: Hey, Juno—

JUNO: Here. We got into a fight.

SOUND: STATIC. PAPER RIPS, CLATTERING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

BEN: Right here?

JUNO: Right. Here.

This is where I was standing when you ran away.

SOUND: STATIC FADES OUT, THEN BACK IN.

BEN: You’re right.

SOUND: PAPER RIPS, CLATTERING. RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

We got in a fight over… something. And then I ran.

JUNO: Outside.

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

I looked down this hall and watched you go. I just stood here and let you run out into the city alone. You could’ve gotten killed.

BEN: And you were…

…scared. So scared.

I really did that?

JUNO: Of course you did. You weren’t afraid of anything. Not even Mom.

BEN: No, I was… usually afraid.

What was the fight about?

JUNO: Who cares? Kid stuff. Probably make us sick to remember it now.

BEN: Probably.

But… hang on. This isn’t where the fight started; it’s where it ended. Where I hit you and ran, but—

SOUND: PAPER RIPS.

I broke something.

JUNO: Yeah, well.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

BEN: What was it? Something in our room, the living room, or…

SOUND: DOORKNOB RATTLES.

JUNO: Don’t bother. Door’s locked. (SIGHS) Mom always kept the door to her office locked.

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): I told you two to stay out of there!

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

??? (FROM RADIO): Paranoid behavior, Sarah…

SARAH (FROM RADIO): …stop saying that! Of course I’m paranoid! I’ve got these two running around, and all I’ve got on the line is—

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

Stop whining! I know what I said, I don’t care what I said, so just shut the—!

Oh, don’t cry. Please don’t, not now, not…

I just… need to finish this, boys, okay? I know I said we’d go back to fountain today, but…

Once this is over. I promise, Juno, Ben, my little monsters; once this is all over, and I’ve finished this, I’m gonna be all better. No more worries, no more stress. Nothing like this is ever going to happen again, and I know I’ve said that before but I mean it, I really do, you’ll see, and it’ll all… be worth it.

Just… one more hour. Please.

SOUND: STATIC FADES. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: All better, huh?

BEN: What? Do you think she was lying again?

JUNO: No.

There. See? That about sums it up.

BEN: Sums what up?

JUNO: Her whole… you know.

BEN: I’d know better if you’d finish a sentence.

JUNO: Whatever. Anyway, that’s how it happened. We fought, you ran away, some burglar came in, didn’t even steal anything.

BEN: I already got this version.

JUNO: Yeah, well…

BEN: If we’re gonna do this, then we’re gonna do it right, Juno.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

BEN: Juno?

JUNO: No. Y’know what? No. We’re done here.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. AMBIENT MUSIC STOPS, CLOCK TICKING.

This is a dead end. It doesn’t matter.

BEN: Doesn’t matter? What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?

JUNO: It’s ancient history! No, it’s worse than that: it’s the prologue to ancient history. You’re dead! Mom’s dead, let’s all just give up and move on, right? If that’s what I’m supposed to learn from this, fine, I get it, you can keep your other ghosts and let me wake up.

BEN: Do you not remember?

JUNO: Of course I remember! It just doesn’t matter and if it’s all the same to you I’d rather not relive my oldest nightmare and feel like an idiot while I do it. Can we just drop it?

BEN: And do what?

JUNO: I don’t know. Wait until my stupid operation’s over so I can get my head out of dreamland.

BEN: So, you just want to sit here. You have a once-in-a-lifetime chance to answer any question about your life you want, and you’re just gonna… hang out?

JUNO: No. Obviously. I’m gonna… get in some quality time with my brother.

BEN: Juno…

JUNO: Like this.

SOUND: RATTLING.

See? Cred Creeper. This was, like, your favorite game.

BEN: And it usually ended in you crying and running out of the room.

JUNO: Guess we’ll have to see if I got any better in the last thirty years.

BEN: No, you usually won, that was the weird part—

JUNO: We’re just gonna relax. How do you like that? We’re just gonna sit here, and play a game, and kill time until— (YELPS)

TURBO: (LINES OVERLAPPING, REPEATING) Turbo’s here with turbo speed! The good guys always win! Have you helped anyone today? Here comes Turbo! The Man of the Future!

JUNO: Turbos.

It’s all Turbos! Everything in here is just—

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): People need to be helped, Juno! The good guys always win!

JUNO: Goddamn radio!

TURBO: So just remember… it’s a fact! You can—

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: (PANTING)

BEN: (AFTER A PAUSE) So… you’re saying, we’re… just gonna let that go.

JUNO: (GROWLS) Fine.

It was probably about ten minutes after you left.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES.

I was alone; I was scared; I’d been staring at that door, and beating myself up, and thinking about going to get you that whole time, and if I had…

But I didn’t. And that’s when… someone came to the door.

SOUND: KNOCKING. DOOR OPENS.

TURBO (ECHOING): Steady your crying now, young hero, and Turbo will help you with turbo speed!

JUNO: Listen, I know it’s dumb, but that’s what I remember.

…Ben?

TURBO (ECHOING): Your brother Benten broke it, you say? And your mother will be angry!

JUNO: Ben, where are you?

TURBO (ECHOING): A situation most dire! She might hurt him! And you wouldn’t want that – would you, Juno?

JUNO: No… no…

TURBO (ECHOING): No time, young hero! We must save the day with Turbo speed, and that means we can’t stop to ask for permission first. People need to be helped, Juno. The good guys always win!

JUNO: Ben!

SOUND: RADIO TUNING, STATIC.

TURBO (FROM RADIO): So I’ll just go into her office now… put it all back together… nobody will know!

SOUND: STATIC ENDS.

And if anyone asks, you must tell them Turbo did it.

SOUND: GUNSHOT. WIND HOWLING.

JUNO: Ahh!

SARAH (FROM RADIO): If you say Turbo did it one more time, Juno, just one more time—

VOICE 6 (FROM RADIO): Violent outburst at local entertainment startup—

LORENZO VEGA (FROM RADIO): She just came at him… she was always, well, you know, so I always knew she might just—

BEN: Juno, please. You gotta calm down.

VOICE 6 (FROM RADIO): According to sources, Sarah Steel had a history of violent outbursts—

SARAH (FROM RADIO): Robbed us blind without taking a thing.

BEN: Come on, stay with me, Super-Steel!

SARAH (FROM RADIO): So flail all you want, ‘cause it’s not gonna make a difference.

JUNO: No! No no no no no!

SOUND: GUNSHOT, WIND STOPS. CLOCK TICKING. RADIO JINGLE.

RADIO VOICE: At the sound of the tone, the time will be eleven forty-five PM.

SOUND: TONE. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: Juno?

Juno, are you okay?

JUNO: Where were you.

BEN: I… what?

JUNO: Where were you?

I told you I didn’t want to. I told you. And you just… left me. Again.

BEN: C’mon, man, I didn’t have a choice, we’re in your head—

JUNO: You always leave. I warned you for years, years, that Mom was going to do something really bad one day, and you still stayed with her, and now, here I am, still holding the bag alone, you selfish—

BEN: Hey, I didn’t mean to—

JUNO: Why did you stay with her?

BEN: What does that have to do with—

JUNO: Why did you stay with her!

BEN: I… told you. If you don’t know…

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Juno? (SIGHS) Come on. We still gotta solve this thing. Freezer case, remember? Coldest one there is?

JUNO: You mean Mom’s stupid riddle? I’ve got it all figured out, thanks. She said I gave her life away to a goddamn cartoon character because he asked nicely, and that I was responsible for every bad thing that happened to us after that, and it turns out she was right. I deserved everything I got and more, and then you…!

That should’ve been me. It was supposed to be me. Then everything would’ve been even.

BEN: Juno…

JUNO: What are you still doing here, Benzaiten? You’re supposed to be dead.

SOUND: WIND BLOWS.

Benten?

SOUND: STATIC, RADIO JINGLE.

RADIO VOICE: At the sound of the tone, the time will be eleven fifty PM.

SOUND: TONE. RADIO CLICKS OFF. CLOCK TICKING.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actor Marc Pierre and co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert :

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …in, so far down the line, but with a major character, and just be sort of plunged into the middle of this… what was that like for you?

MARC: Um, it’s… I find it fun and interesting, um, I know that can– it sounds daunting, like, just by like—

SOPHIE: Yeah.

MARC: —the phrasing of it, um, but the fun thing about it is, that, y’know, you’re kind of like thrust into a world that is already set. And, you know you have to find your way, in, how does– how does my character function in this world, and granted like…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Karin Z-H, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Regan, Ko, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Marc Pierre as Benzaiten Steel, Kiki Samko as Sarah Steel, and Bob Mussett and Alexander Stravinski as the ensemble.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE MONSTER’S REFLECTION (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

Pay no mind to our train’s backwards motion, dear Traveler. We are now passing through decades of the past.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Our next stop? Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: ELECTRIC BEEPS, MACHINES HUMMING. DOOR CREAKS OPEN, WIND BLOWING.

JUNO: (COUGHING)

JACKET: Inside. Quickly.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS SHUT.

JUNO: (COUGHING) Aren’t you supposed to be saving my life, like, theoretically? (COUGHS) I think I got more sandstorm in my lungs than air.

JACKET: A sandstorm is mostly air, Juno—

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, I know. This place have lights, or are we doin’ this blindfolded?

JACKET: I will activate the generator.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: Some service this doctor’s got. Makes you wander out into the middle of the desert, leaves all the lights off… where the hell is she, anyway?

(CALLING) Hello? Doc? Paging doctor Hanataba!

SOUND: BZZT, ELECTRIC HUM.

(WINCES) Jeez, that’s bright!

JACKET: You have many complaints, and I do not know how to satisfy them all.

JUNO: At least we have that in common. (COUGHING) Where the hell is she?

JACKET: She is not here.

JUNO: I can see that—

JACKET: And I have no evidence that she exists.

JUNO: You what?

JACKET: And I have no evidence that she exists.

JUNO: Yeah, I heard you the first time. I-I-I’m sorry, you waited until payday to tell me that the pay doesn’t exist?

JACKET: We will be performing the procedure ourselves.

These are your directions.

SOUND: PAPER RUSTLING.

JUNO: This dinky little piece of paper? That’s all we need?

“Step one: treat yourself to some Jovian tea from the cabinet above the sink, and have a seat in the waiting room.” What the hell?

JACKET: Would you like to make the tea, or should I?

JUNO: (GROWLS)

“Step two: ensure your partner has read their list start to finish. Communication is key to a swift recovery.”

JACKET: That is complete.

JUNO: “Note: it is recommended that you enjoy the tea with two sugars and long, calm breaths between each sip.” Are you kidding me, big guy? What is this, a recipe?

SOUND: WATER BOILING.

JACKET: Would you like to see my directions?

JUNO: If it’s not too much trouble, I’d kind of like to know what’s gonna happen to me before you rip my eye out!

JACKET: (STRAINING) Then… here!

SOUND: PAPER FLUTTERING, HEAVY THUD.

JUNO: Y’know, on second thought, I’ll stick with my directions.

JACKET: That would be best.

SOUND: DING. BOILING STOPS.

I have done this before. You have no cause for concern, other than the great danger your life is in.

JUNO: Good. Good, glad that’s everything, then.

JACKET: It isn’t. There are, in fact, many other things that could go wrong, but Buddy has told me that patients often find the truth unsettling.

JUNO: She seems pretty smart. Let’s listen to her, huh? Starting now.

SOUND: LIQUID POURING.

JACKET: Alright.

SOUND: CLUNK.

Your tea.

JUNO: I’d really rather just get this over with.

JACKET: First we will have some light conversation, and you will drink your tea.

JUNO: Listen, I really don’t want to wait—

JACKET: We will follow the directions.

JUNO: Fine. Let’s chat.

JACKET: Let’s.

JUNO: (AFTER A PAUSE) So how do you know this place, anyway? Out in the middle of nowhere, door hidden underneath a foot of sand, and… if you’ve read that manual you must’ve been here before.

JACKET: You are not the first person I’ve brought to Hanataba’s.

JUNO: So what, are you a doctor?

JACKET: No. I am a driver.

JUNO: Then how—

JACKET: Hanataba’s machine will perform the actual surgery. My role is less medical and more like driving a car into your head.

JUNO: But less dangerous than the car, right?

Uhhh… right?

Great. A doctor that doesn’t show, might not even exist, builds deathtraps for amateur surgery—what the hell is Hanataba, anyway?

JACKET: I had a friend with a device like yours – a leg, not an eye. No doctor would help him. Then he came to the Cerberus Province and was told to ask for Hanataba. And so I brought him here.

With tech growing at the rate it has, accepted medical cures for the problems humans cause can no longer keep up. Yet I have been told there are clinics like this across the galaxy for many man-made ailments. All of them, free of charge. All of them built, supposedly, by Hanataba.

JUNO: Yeah, okay, she doesn’t exist.

JACKET: On this we do not agree.

JUNO: What? But, you just said—

JACKET: I said that I have no evidence that she exists. But, I choose to believe it.

JUNO: Don’t be a moron. Nobody’s that generous.

JACKET: I believe that she is.

JUNO: And Hanataba… that’s a joke. You get that, right? A bad one, but still.

That’s an old Earth language. I had to learn it for a museum con a few years back. It means “bouquet of flowers.” As in, if you have some deadly illness that’s gonna kill you, ask for a bouquet of flowers. For my funeral. ‘Cause I’m gonna die.

JACKET: That is one interpretation.

JUNO: It’s the only interpretation! Those are the facts!

JACKET: I find that the way I think of the world often affects how it really is.

JUNO: Oh, whatever. So you think if you imagine this Hanataba-saint-doctor she’ll just poof into existence?

JACKET: No. But, if I believe there is a Hanataba in the galaxy, it affects how I act. And if my actions affect the galaxy, then that which affects my actions affects the galaxy. Juno, I recommend you believe that you will survive this. For yourself.

JUNO: That was pretty smart, actually.

JACKET: That was step five.

JUNO: What?

“Step five: take a deep breath and believe that you will survive this.”

…Huh.

JACKET: Please, drink your tea.

JUNO: Listen, these are good instructions and everything, but I’m just really not into tea—

JACKET: No. You must drink your tea because it is a powerful sedative, and without it this operation will be more painful than you can imagine.

JUNO: Yeah okay that’s a good reason.

SOUND: SIP.

(PAINED GASP)

SOUND: ALARM WAIL STARTS.

JACKET: Hm?

THEIA: Caution: this course of action is dangerous. Unnecessary. And cruel. Would you like me to vomit that tea for you?

JUNO: No, I— (PAINED GROAN)

THEIA: You are nothing without the Theia Spectrum.

JACKET: It is your eye.

JUNO: Shut up! Both of you!

THEIA: What good will you do. Blinded. And helpless?

JUNO: (PAINED GROAN)

JACKET: Juno, I am going to give you a medical capsule. You must take it immediately, no matter how it tastes. Understood?

JUNO: (PAINED) Uh-huh…

THEIA: You will never shoot again. It was the one thing you were good for. Little monster.

JACKET: Here.

JUNO: (COUGHING) God damn it, what is that? It burns, it tastes like… like…

THEIA: Poison. Poison. Poison. Trust no one. Doing good. That’s what you’re for—

JACKET: Take the pill!

THEIA: —activate and. Escape.

SOUND: GRUNTS.

Is here. User little monster—

JACKET: Swallow it, Juno! Quickly!

THEIA: —do not give away. (SLOWING DOWN) Give away. Give away. Our liffffffffe—

SOUND: ALARM STOPS.

JACKET: (AFTER A PAUSE) How do you feel?

JUNO: (COUGHING) Sugar.

JACKET: I do not know this emotion.

JUNO: The pill, it was… just sugar, wasn’t it?

JACKET: And a finely-tuned electromagnetic pulse. The Theia should be quiet, now… for a moment.

JUNO: It tasted like… like…

JACKET: Like I was trying to kill you.

JUNO: …Yeah, that.

JACKET: That follows. But it is not you we are trying to kill, Juno. Remember that.

JUNO: So, I… guess that means we’re gonna start the operation soon.

Do I get to know what you’re gonna do to me?

JACKET: Do you want to?

JUNO: …No. But I want to die not knowing even less.

JACKET: If you insist.

SOUND: PAGES FLIPPING.

Cybernetics like the Theia Spectrum operate like certain weeds: they grow into the roots of their hosts until the two are nearly inseparable, then feed off what they make.

JUNO: So… what, like, I’m the root?

JACKET: You are the tree. Your brain is the root. Metaphorically.

JUNO: Not a bad metaphor, for a giant, talking block of stone.

JACKET: I did not get it from a stone. I constructed it after giving this description several times.

JUNO: Sure. My mistake. You were saying about the Theia?

JACKET: The path such cybernetics take when growing into the brain is never the same twice. My friend reported hallucinations of smell: an orange grove, dried lilies, the fogged breath of the Plutonian Yak. Have you experienced such things?

JUNO: Nothing like that. But…

I’ve been… hearing things, I guess. And having weird dreams about…

JACKET: About?

JUNO: Things I’d rather not remember, okay?

JACKET: Memory. Hm.

Once you fall asleep I will bring you into the next room and connect you to Hanataba’s machine. There I will pilot biodegradable nanomachines into your brain to remove the Theia entirely. The nanomachines’ firing will cause some hallucinations. Then it will be finished.

JUNO: So, what? I just… sit back and enjoy the show while you do all the work?

JACKET: Would you like the answer I have evidence for, or the answer I think is true?

JUNO: I’ll take whatever you’ve got, honestly.

JACKET: There is no scientific reason that your actions should affect the process.

JUNO: But?

JACKET: (AFTER A PAUSE) I have brought several people to this place now, Juno. All of the ones who survived described their hallucinations as… a story. A task that they succeeded in.

JUNO: So, you think whatever that is, I have to succeed to survive.

JACKET: That is what I choose to believe.

JUNO: But… but, come on. How do you know everybody doesn’t have some dream about slaying a dragon, or whatever?

MUSIC: STARTS.

It’s not like the ones who died could tell you.

JACKET: My friend with the cybernetic leg survived his operation. And he described to me his hallucinations: a nightmare in which his childhood farm was ablaze, and he failed to save it. He spoke of it at length: the cries of the yaks as they burned, the sweet orange ashes in the air.

JUNO: But he survived. You just said—

JACKET: He survived the operation. Three days later, he died in his sleep.

He was a good man. I choose to believe he had some control over his fate because it reassures me. As does telling you his story.

JUNO: I… think I get what you mean.

(GAGS)

JACKET: Is something the matter?

JUNO: Just… dizzy. The tea must be kicking in.

JACKET: It is about that time, yes. Are you ready, Juno?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t know how to answer the big guy’s question. I didn’t think I had a choice. All I wanted was to run away, leave the past far behind me, but, I knew I couldn’t do it dead and I couldn’t do it with this anchor to Ramses O’Flaherty in me.

My name’s Juno Steel. I’ve been a private eye, a criminal conspirator, a cop, a punk, and who knows how many other things. And I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna be next, but… God, I wanna know. I have to.

JACKET: Juno?

JUNO: (ECHOING STRANGELY) Ready.

JACKET: (ECHOING STRANGELY) Good. I am going to bring you to the device now. And remember: you will survive this. You will.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING. FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: (GROANS) Big guy? Is it over, or…

Oh no.

SOUND: STATIC BUZZING.

(GASPS)

SOUND: RADIO TUNING.

Get it together, Steel. Got to calm down.

MUSIC: FROM RADIO.

The facts, the facts. This… is my old bedroom, and that’s Ma’s old radio, and that song is what Ma was listening to when she…

But… this isn’t even the right bedroom. This isn’t Oldtown, this is from before that, it’s…

(YELPS)

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES.

(YELLS)

MUSIC: QUIETER, IN BACKGROUND.

JUNO: (PANTING)

SARAH STEEL: (MUFFLED) You took your sweet time getting here. What’s the matter? Had somethin’ better to do?

JUNO: No. No way, Steel.

Gotta get out of here, right back—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

My legs! I… can’t stop walking! (GASPS)

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

JUNO (YOUNG): Where is he?

JUNO: Where is he?

SARAH: It’s been months since you’ve seen old Ma, and I don’t even get a hello?

JUNO (YOUNG): Tell me where—

JUNO: Tell me… where…

SARAH: So you can do what, exactly? Think for a second. You never. Think.

Or if you can’t manage that, why don’t you just sit down and shut up. You talk too much. It’s my turn, little monster.

JUNO: No… no, no, no, no…

SARAH: You think you’ve got it all figured out now, don’t you? Fancy badge, fancy gun. Like a uniform’s gonna cage what’s in you. What’s in both of us. So today, I’m giving you a gift. A reality check. Complete the transformation: it’s alive! And it wishes it was dead. Just like you gave me.

JUNO & YOUNG JUNO: What the hell are you—

SARAH: Because having any control over your life, that’s always like paddling upstream, and for people like you, like me, those waters are choppy. But you try. You row ‘til your arms wanna fall off and nobody cares, but you try, and some days you even row harder than the current. Gain a few feet. Nothing you won’t lose tomorrow, but… you’re proud of it anyway.

And then? Something happens. Your idiot kid takes your oar from your tired, tired hands… and he smashes it. (BITTER LAUGH) And then? You’ve got nothing.

JUNO & YOUNG JUNO: Ben? Benten, are you in there?

SARAH: You did it in one day. One choice. When you let him in, when you let the hero rob us blind without taking a thing.

JUNO & YOUNG JUNO: Benten!

SARAH: Why are you shouting?

YOUNG JUNO: Give me the key.

JUNO: Don’t… don’t.

SARAH: Why? You know what’s in there. I smashed your oar like you smashed mine, so flail all you want, ‘cause it’s not gonna make a difference!

JUNO & YOUNG JUNO: Why?

SARAH: You know I didn’t even mean to do it? I thought he was you. He stole my pills, and when I told him off, he said, he didn’t know what I meant, gave me attitude, like you, not him, like—

JUNO & YOUNG JUNO: Why!

SARAH: —and for just a second I thought he was you, and I did the only thing I had left.

I found the pills at the bottom of my bag a few minutes ago, by the way. Checked that bag a thousand times before that. Proves my point.

YOUNG JUNO: Ben! Benten, open this door!

JUNO: Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop—

SARAH: I couldn’t even do this right. No control left. Nothing.

I’ve been thinking about it though, and I think this is better. Much better.

Go see him, then. And see how fast the current takes you.

SOUND: KEYS CLINKING.

JUNO (YOUNG): (PANTING, CRYING)

JUNO: No… stop… stop…

JUNO (YOUNG): Ben!

JUNO: Stop!

VOICE 1: Okay.

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES. MUSIC CUTS OUT.

JUNO: (PANTING)

SOUND: CLOCK TICKING. RADIO JINGLE.

VOICE 1: I love this tune, don’t you? Really got a beat you can dance to.

VOICE 2 (FROM RADIO): At the sound of the tone, the time will be—

JUNO: Ben?

VOICE 2 [RADIO VOICE]: —eleven thirty PM.

VOICE 1 [BEN]: It’s been a while, Juno. You miss me?

SOUND: TONE. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: Benzaiten?!

SOUND: RUSTLING.

BEN: Hey there, easy on the spine, alright? Backups aren’t cheap.

JUNO: Benten, I never thought I’d see you again, or hear you, or– it’s really you, isn’t it?

BEN: Always suspicious. Fine. Test me.

JUNO: Where was the best spot to eat lunch at Oldtown Elementary?

BEN: Inside the fake tree behind the basketball court, obviously. Come on, that’s the best you’ve got?

JUNO: I was just getting started. What about—

BEN: Oldtown Junior High? The roof, until your friend got us busted up there. Oldtown High? At least a mile away from the building, just in case.

JUNO: That’s right.

BEN: Ask me a hard one, come on. Deep cuts only.

JUNO: What was the best episode of The New Adventures of Andromeda?

BEN: ‘By Captain Cancer’s Claws.’ That’s supposed to be hard?

JUNO: Ha! No! No it wasn’t, it was ‘The Cold-Eyed Cops of the Frozen City’ and you know it, but you always said it was ‘Cancer’s Claws,’ always, always…

SOUND: RUSTLING.

BEN: Oof! Well, there goes the reserve spine. You turned into a real toucher since I’ve been gone, huh?

JUNO: I’ve missed you, Benten, it’s been so, so hard.

BEN: I know, Juno. Trust me. I know better than anybody.

So, are you just gonna spend this whole reunion irrigating my shoulder, or…?

JUNO: I’m not crying!

I just… still had a lot of questions. Then you checked out. It was frustrating, is all.

BEN: Questions? Like what?

JUNO: Things you never answered before, like—

SOUND: RADIO TURNS ON, MUSIC.

BEN: I’ll get that.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

Keep going.

JUNO: Her.

BEN: Mom?

JUNO: Yeah. Like… Sarah.

I’ve always wanted to know, Ben… why did you stay with her? You could’ve left when I did, and then you wouldn’t’ve…

BEN: You want to know why, Juno? Really why?

JUNO: I do. I always did.

BEN: Fine. I’ll tell you.

The truth, Juno? The reason that I stayed with Mom… is… (WHISPERING) blackmail.

JUNO: What.

BEN: It’s true. She had pictures of me from seventh grade – you remember? The weird contacts? The hair? If those got out into the world, hell, I’d never get another date again.

JUNO: No, come on. Enough jokes. Why—

BEN: Hidden treasure. Old lady’s got it under the floorboards, I’m sure of it.

JUNO: Just tell me—

BEN: Would you believe me if I said I just really liked waking up to something breaking every morning?

JUNO: Knock it off! You always do this!

BEN: (LAUGHING) Oh, come on, Juno. Lighten up, willya?

JUNO: Just answer me. Now. Please. I have to know.

BEN: Hey. So… I guess we’re not joking anymore, huh?

Listen, Super-Steel, I don’t want to make you upset, but… I couldn’t answer that if I wanted to. I don’t even know what the answer is.

JUNO: No. You expect me to buy that you threw your life out without even knowing why? No.

BEN: It’s the truth, alright? If you don’t know why I did it, then… that means I don’t know, either.

JUNO: What the hell is that supposed t—

Oh.

BEN: Oh.

JUNO: You aren’t Benten. You’re just… a hallucination, or something.

BEN: Hey, come on. I’m a bigger deal than that. I come with this room, here, and… everything in it.

JUNO: Our old bedroom? And that radio, that brought me to—

SOUND: RADIO TURNS ON. STORM NOISES, DRAMATIC MUSIC.

VOICE 3 (FROM RADIO): Andromeda!! The rigging’s snapped in the wizard’s storm!

ANDROMEDA (FROM RADIO): Steer us to safety, Captain, and I’ll use my chainmail to keep us afloat! Chain whip!

SOUND: WHIP CRACKS. RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: That’s ‘By Captain Cancer’s Claws.’ I haven’t thought about that in years.

Memories. This room is for memories.

BEN: Ehhh… kinda.

Do you know how memory works, Juno?

JUNO: I thought so, but haunted radio in your childhood bedroom didn’t exactly figure in.

BEN: People think memory’s like a bucket with a hole in it: just a big container that we pour information into and some trickles out – but, that’s not right. Memory’s associative. We remember things in relation to other things. It’s like… our minds are always sorting memories, right? Like a filing cabinet, kinda. This one’s tagged under ‘mom’, and ‘happy’. This one’s tagged under ‘times I punched someone who deserved it’, and ‘second grade’, and ‘teachers whose noses I’ve broken’.

JUNO: Mr. Lowell. Yeah, well, he had it comin’.

BEN: The main difference between memory and a filing cabinet is that memories get stronger the more you think about them, and if you don’t, they start to fade. They lose tags, one by one, until you’ve got no way to find them. Doesn’t mean they’re gone. Just means that… you can’t access them anymore. Like you’ve lost not just a file, but the whole cabinet.

JUNO: Or like you’re trying to tune into a station with barely any signal.

SOUND: RADIO TURNS ON.

VOICE 4 (FROM RADIO): Juno! Gimme your nose and we’ll see what I do with it, you nasty little—!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: Wow, he really did deserve that, didn’t he?

JUNO: Told ya.

Alright, so. Brown jacket says people who go under for this operation start to… see things. Said there’d be some kind of job I’d have to do.

BEN: He also said that there was no scientific evidence for that, but hey, who’s counting?

JUNO: How did you—

Right. You’re me.

BEN: Got it in one. Keep going. Always wanted to watch you work a case.

JUNO: Wait a minute. Wait a minute, I think I get this! You, and this room, and that memory with Mom, and… I’m here to solve your murder.

BEN: Uhh… what about it?

JUNO: What about it? Wht the hell are you talking about? There’s obviously—

Mom’s pills! They went missing and that’s why she killed you, right? Where’d they go?

BEN: She said—

JUNO: And! Who planted them back in her bag, huh?

Don’t look at me like that.

BEN: Like what?

JUNO: Whatever. Why the hell are you asking me all this, anyway? You run this whole… whatever it is! You tell me why I’m here!

BEN: I said it already: I don’t know anything you don’t.

JUNO: Then what the hell are you doing here? I don’t need you, alright? So just buzz off. I don’t like this. I don’t like people or ghosts or whatever pretending to be things they aren’t, so if this is all you’ve got for me, you can go.

BEN: Hey, I’m… sorry, man. I… I should’ve seen this coming, I guess… right now probably wasn’t the time for me to—

JUNO: Stop.

BEN: Stop what?

JUNO: Looking like him, sounding like him, knowing what he knew – just stop. Please.

BEN: That makes… a lot of sense.

SOUND: WIND BLOWS.

SARAH: Do I make this easier on you, little monster?

JUNO: What… what– what are you…

SARAH: What’s the matter, Juno? Did you think you’d get away with never seeing me again? Ha. Figures. You’re tough as tissues, aren’t you?

JUNO: Mom…? Ben, where’s Ben?

SARAH: You’re scared. I can smell it on you, little monster.

JUNO: You can’t do anything to me. You’re dead. This is all in my head, and—

SARAH: And so am I.

So am I, Juno. I’m in your head, and you’ll never get me out.

JUNO: Stop.

SARAH: I’m just waiting, and I’m patient, little monster. You won’t even notice it happening at first, but I’ll get you in the end. First, you’ll just start snapping at people, and you’ll always have excuses. Head hurts. Tired.

JUNO: Stop!

SARAH: And you’ll hate yourself for snapping, but it’s just going to get harder, and harder, and you’re going to get more and more tired, and one day you’ll just give up, just like I—

JUNO: Ben!

SOUND: WIND BLOWS.

BEN: (AFTER A PAUSE) It… gets pretty bad in here, doesn’t it?

JUNO: Just… don’t do that again, okay?

BEN: I didn’t. You’re the one who’s in control, so—

JUNO: I know. I know.

Please. I just need you… here. Okay? I always felt like… like part of my mind was just gone, whenever we weren’t together.

BEN: I know that feeling.

Okay, Super-Steel. Mr. Cop Academy himself. You can do this: what’s another cold case, eh?

JUNO: Ice cold. Been in the freezer thirty years.

BEN: Come on, I can’t do this on my own. While you were acing Detective 101 I was just teaching people the box step. So, expert, tell me how this goes. You have what you’re pretty sure is a case. All the evidence you’re gonna get is here. So? Where do we start?

JUNO: Step one. Right. We… figure out what doesn’t make sense. There’s always somethin’, in every case. Even if it’s small… that’s the thread you have to pull on to get the big stuff.

BEN: And what doesn’t make sense here?

JUNO: The pills.

BEN: Really? Those make the least sense to you, really?

JUNO: Ehhh… the motive.

SOUND: RADIO TURNS ON.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SARAH (FROM RADIO): You did it in one day. One choice. When you let him in, when you let the hero rob us blind without taking a thing.

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

JUNO: That. What the hell does that even mean?

BEN: You’re saying you don’t remember the day she’s talking about?

JUNO: No, I remember it, but… it’s stupid.

BEN: (CHUCKLES) I bet a lot of leads are.

JUNO: That’s true.

(SIGHS) Short version: we were four years old and she decided it was a good idea to leave us home alone for the day. Some burglar broke in, I didn’t stop them, they didn’t even take anything, but Mom flipped out over it anyway. She blew a gasket at work, lost her job, and blamed me for it forever, the end. Okay? I’m telling you, she was just—

BEN: And that’s all you remember?

JUNO: Who cares what I remember? I was a kid! It doesn’t matter!

SOUND: RADIO TURNS ON.

VOICE 5 (FROM RADIO): Here comes Turbo! The Man of the Future!

BEN: Doesn’t matter, huh?

VOICE 5 [TURBO] (FROM RADIO): Have you helped anyone today?

JUNO: (GROWLS)

TURBO (FROM RADIO): Just remember, Juno: it’s a fact!

SOUND: RADIO CLICKS OFF.

BEN: What was the first step to detecting, again?

JUNO: Shut up.

BEN: Find something that doesn’t make sense, right? Because that right there definitely—

JUNO: Just drop it, alright? I forgot how smug you were.

BEN: (LAUGHS)

So. You ready to solve a mystery? And don’t lie. Remember, I’m basically just you, so I know—

JUNO: Everything I’m thinking, sure. So why do I have to say it?

BEN: Because I’m still just me and I think it’s fun to watch you admit when you’re wrong.

JUNO: (GROWLS, THROUGH GRITTED TEETH) I’m ready to solve a mystery.

MUSIC: ENDS.

BEN: Ha ha, that’s more like it! Let’s go!

SOUND: SPED-UP GLITCHY NOISES.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from co-creators Kevin Vibert and Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SOPHIE: …where are we gonna go with this, like, where are we gonna find a kid who can like really really act.

KEVIN: Right.

SOPHIE: And if they’re not going to, then like what does that leave us with? And then we… considered having him be the same age as Juno because theyre twins, and just like, okay, even though he’s dead, Juno imagines him as if he were… as if he had grown up with him, but then we were like… are we gonna have Joshua—

KEVIN: Right.

SOPHIE: —voice Ben.

KEVIN: Right.

SOPHIE: And…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Canteloupe, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Regan, Ko, KC, Kim Zeugin, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Monster’s Reflection, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Alexander Stravinski as the Man in the Brown Jacket, Kiki Samko as Sarah Steel, Marc Pierre as Benzaiten Steel, and Bob Mussett as the ensemble.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE MOONLIT HERMIT (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Moonlit Hermit.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. SWAMP AMBIANCE.

RILLA: (WHISPERING) It’s nearby. I’m not sure it even knows where I am, but I heard—

SOUND: SAWING.

It’s up there.

(PANTING)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. CREAKING WOOD, CRASH.

Too close. Gotta throw it off track, gotta—

(GRUNTS)

SOUND: SWISH, THUD. THUMPS DEPARTING.

MUSIC: STARTS.

(PANTING) Okay. Better get started. Not much time left.

(CLEARS THROAT) Research log. Final entry.

My name is Amaryllis of Exile, and that thing you just heard slashing and stomping around… I made it with the monster’s tools, and it’s going to kill me.

I can’t stop it. Neither the magician-lord of this swamp nor his living castle could even put a dent in it, and now… it’s just out here, raising hell and… that’s just what I made by accident. I don’t even want to imagine—

Please. Warn the Citadel. Please. And maybe this story will give them something to go off of.

After the night I tried to escape from Lord Arum’s Keep, the night I made that thing, Arum and I had a conversation which I did not record. All you need to know about it was that he wasn’t happy, and neither was I – but even then, for all his threats, he didn’t hurt me. He just took the Moonlit Hermit with him, told the Keep to grow me a proper room to sleep in, and left. So I didn’t get any more answers until the lizard showed his face the next morning, and we came to… an agreement.

SOUND: MUSIC CUTS OUT, RECORDER TRACK CHANGES. KNOCKING.

ARUM: (THROUGH THE DOOR) Amaryllis.

Amaryllis!

RILLA: You grew this room. Don’t see why you need permission to enter it.

ARUM: (THROUGH THE DOOR) I… don’t need your permission, of course. It’s my Keep. And it’s because of your whining that I— (SIGHS) I’ll come speak with you another time, then. Enjoy your rest, tktktktktktktktk.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

RILLA: No, come on. Wait.

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN. JUNGLE AMBIANCE.

Sorry. I… might not have slept. At all.

ARUM: You should be sorry. I didn’t sleep either.

And. Well. I suppose I also… apologize.

That… thing.

RILLA: What thing?

ARUM: Your… recording device. It’s on.

RILLA: It is, yeah.

ARUM: I thought I told you to—

RILLA: Yeah, well, I’m not just going to roll over and do everything you say, okay? I want the recorder, and if you want to talk to me, it stays on. You don’t get to care why.

ARUM: …Alright.

So. Did you think at all about my offer?

RILLA: I did.

ARUM: And?

RILLA: I don’t know yet. It isn’t a very good one right now.

ARUM: Then come up with one you prefer. I’m too tired and in too much of a hurry to haggle. Go on.

RILLA: I’m going to want some things in return.

ARUM: Beyond my tutelage? I’m offering you the impossible mysteries of the universe, you—

RILLA: Okay, all this stuff about you teaching me, me working for you? That’s exactly why we couldn’t have this conversation yesterday—

ARUM: Oh, spare me—

RILLA: If you want my help fixing your Keep, I’m not going to be your assistant.

ARUM: Well, I certainly won’t be yours!

RILLA: I never asked for that. We’re going to work together. Share methods together, theorize together, experiment together. But I’m done working for you.

And any questions I have… you have to answer them all. I can’t help you if you don’t let me do my job.

ARUM: That is… logical.

Agreed. With one restriction. There are certain lines of questioning that I cannot, under any circumstances, answer.

RILLA: But—

ARUM: The work I do, and the beings I do it for, are dangerous. Giving up information they’ve protected would ensure my Keep’s death, and I cannot endanger my Keep. That you must understand.

RILLA: …Alright.

ARUM: Well, then. Shall we—

RILLA: One last thing.

ARUM: My, this deal just gets fairer by the second, doesn’t it?

RILLA: If I cure your Keep, you have to let me go home. Seriously this time.

ARUM: I’ve already told you, I can’t—

RILLA: Well, you’re gonna have to, Arum. You’re bargaining with me, and you’re not getting any sleep, and for all the times you’ve threatened to kill me, that’s never really been an option for you. And all that means: you’re desperate. You need me. And that means: I get to name my price.

Well? I want some kind of guarantee—

ARUM: (GROWLS) Keep!

KEEP: (SINGING)

ARUM: For the remainder of her stay within these walls, you are to listen to any requests the human Amaryllis makes. Is that understood?

KEEP: (AFFIRMATIVE SINGING)

RILLA: How am I supposed to know that worked?

ARUM: You’re the researcher. Test it, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: Uhhh… okay?

(CLEARS THROAT) Keep! I want to see the way back home! …Uhh, please!

KEEP: (SINGING)

SOUND: STRETCHING, CREAKING.

RILLA: Saints, is that…?

DOOR CREAKS OPEN. SWAMP AMBIANCE.

ARUM: A portal to the swamp’s edge. Now you understand how we came here this quickly. Satisfied?

RILLA: But… could it make a portal to—

ARUM: Only the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms, Amaryllis. (SNORTS) Humans… you show them the impossible and within seconds they already want more.

RILLA: No, it’s just… that’s a lot of power to give me, Arum.

ARUM: (GROWLS) Close the portal, Keep. And put this room away; we won’t be needing it any longer.

KEEP: (SINGING)

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS SHUT. JUNGLE AMBIANCE.

ARUM: When I first told you my Keep was the font from which every Titan’s Bloom springs, I was not telling the full scope of the truth. It is true that all the flowers here are born from the Keep; but so is all life in this swamp. The Keep had a hand in creating every living thing here, and it is the source that keeps them living. If it dies—

RILLA: Then everything in the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms dies, too.

ARUM: Precisely. I cannot expect you to understand the bond I share with such a creature; the depth of emotion and devotion I feel for that which gave me life, and that which it is my birth-duty to protect—

RILLA: So it’s your mom.

ARUM: No it is not! Our– our relationship is far more complicated than that! The Keep has but one familiar at a time, a symbiotic soldier who both harnesses its infinite power and lives only to protect—

RILLA: Right, right, but besides that, it’s basically just your mom. Gave you life, sings you lullabies, gets a lot of attitude. Mom stuff.

ARUM: It is not.

KEEP: (SINGING)

ARUM: You stay out of this, tktktktktktktktk!

RILLA: (LAUGHS)

ARUM: There! Your deal is accepted. You have your answers, you have your freedom, you have my pride. It is ample pay. Now earn it. What do we do?

RILLA: (LAUGHING) Okay, okay, okay.

So. If we’re going to do this right, we’re going to need to perform an exam. Where did the petrification start?

ARUM: How should I know? It’s a massive tower. By the time I noticed it—

RILLA: Then where did you first notice it?

ARUM: In my workshop. When I’m not babysitting troublesome primates that is usually where I am.

RILLA: Then that’s where we go. Keep, could you show me the way to the workshop, please?

KEEP: (AFFIRMATIVE SINGING)

SOUND: DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

RILLA: I think I could get used to this.

ARUM: Ugh.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Arum’s workshop was the first room in the Keep I’d seen with a window… and Saints. Who knew a swamp could look like that? Flowers as wide as temples. Life of every color. Frogs that spread wine-colored splotches everywhere they touched, herons robed in golden moss, fish that bowed before the swaying trees and then flew, flew, up to the branches to roost. It was so, so…

It was the first time I felt that feeling Damien talks about. When he thinks he sees Saint Damien in the reflection on the water. Hears him in the sound of the rain. Which is impossible, of course, but…

For now, I’ll just say more evidence is needed. So… get on that, I guess.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA: Why are you standing by the door? Come on. A look won’t kill you.

ARUM: It won’t kill me, no. I’m waiting for the clouds to pass; to find a safe spot for this.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

RILLA: The Moonlit Hermit?

ARUM: Its cage was demolished. And I don’t just leave my most powerful tool lying around.

There. This spot should be safe… and dark.

RILLA: So… that part of the story’s really true, too? This flower that’s powerful enough to bring things to life… just dies in the sunlight?

ARUM: I do wish you’d stop saying that. The Hermit itself doesn’t do anything. It just wants.

(SIGHS) The Hermit lacks almost every basic structure flora require to survive.

MUSIC: STARTS.

So it only lives for one reason: because it wants to, so badly, that physical laws must suspend in its presence. Its will to live is so strong that it lives on that alone.

RILLA: So your theory is that, its will is so strong, it’s contagious, too?

ARUM: Indeed. It speaks to the small amount of life present in every object, whether inanimate, deceased, or… currently alive. Like the abdomen of a Macrachnid, tired of being a thoughtless slave to the head.

RILLA: Yeah, okay, I get it, thanks.

ARUM: Sunlight is the only thing the Hermit wants more than life. So if it gets it… it becomes distracted.

RILLA: And it forgets to live?

ARUM: I wouldn’t put it so crudely. Really it…

Yes, it forgets to live. It finds something that matters more to it. Are you happy, tktktktktktktktk?

MUSIC: ENDS.

RILLA: Huh.

ARUM: That face. What does that face mean?

RILLA: It means I’m thinking.

ARUM: You admit that my methods are superior.

RILLA: Not really. Honestly, you don’t seem to know what you’re talking about.

ARUM: What?!

RILLA: But plenty of scientific breakthroughs have started with fairy tales, so I am interested. Show me what you were working on when you first saw the petrification happen.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): We passed experiment after experiment, and I couldn’t see any use for any of them. In one cage of nettles sat a rodent that belched periodically, inflated until punctured by a thorn, then deflated and started over again. In another stood a small creature with many faces, busily whispering insults to itself. In a third grew a flower that changed its color every time I blinked, its roots twined around a scrap of silk.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

ARUM: Prototypes, mostly. I keep intending to get rid of them, but disposal is such a lengthy process.

RILLA: Couldn’t you just… let them go?

ARUM: Let them go. (BIG LAUGH) Nearly half of my work is ensuring these creations don’t get free, Amaryllis. New species can be fatal to an ecosystem – as you saw with these.

SOUND: JAR OPENS. INSECT BUZZING, HEARTBEAT.

RILLA: The grubs… from beneath the Numbcap! Saints… there are so many of them!

ARUM: Yes. It took many weeks of tireless testing to get through all of these. And in the end not a single one did as I needed.

SOUND: JAR SHUTS.

RILLA: Hey, I was looking—

ARUM: And now you aren’t.

I still don’t know how they got out and I can’t risk another breach.

RILLA: But… what are they for?

ARUM: A contract. Other monsters hired me to make… something. They are one failed attempt.

RILLA: But what—?

ARUM: I warned you when we began this that there would be some questions I could not answer. This is one of them.

RILLA: Arum!

ARUM: I can only assure you, that after their escape, the Keep and I spent many sleepless nights studying them, and studying them, and I do not think they could be the cause of the Keep’s illness.

Here. You may look into their case, if you wish. It’s Vanishwood – just pass your hand over the side. I’ll gather supplies that may prove useful, tktktktktktktktk.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: Research log, entry four-three-zero-one. Observing what appears to be a colony of those grubs I found beneath the Numbcap… Lord Arum’s creations. Interesting. My original sample didn’t exhibit any unusual behavior, but, when you put them in a group they cluster and move as one unit. I think I see something behind them, but they keep getting in the way. Come on, come on!

Uch, seriously? No matter where I look, they—

…keep moving in my way. They cluster where I look before I look there… like they know where that’s going to be.

Agh, I can just catch glimpses of what they’re blocking. It looks like… a rolled-up cloth of some kind? A scarf?

ARUM: Have you found anything interesting?

RILLA: (GASPS) Don’t sneak up on me like that.

ARUM: I will not alter my walking just because you have primitive ears, Amaryllis. Are you satisfied?

RILLA: Nope, but it sounds like I just have to get used to that. (SIGHS) Whatever tools you used to make these grubs… can you bring them back to the greenhouse with us? I want to run some checks on them.

ARUM: Keep. Bring the tools Amaryllis has requested to the greenhouse – and open the way for us, as well.

KEEP: (TIRED SINGING)

SOUND: STRETCHING, CREAKING.

(SINGING)

SOUND: METAL CLATTERING.

ARUM: Be careful! Those tools took months to grow, you oaf!

RILLA: Arum… the door! It’s—

ARUM: Petrifying. (HISSES)

SOUND: CRACKING, CRUMBLING.

(STRAINING) Open this door! I told you to open… it!

SOUND: CLANK.

Yah!

RILLA: Arum!

ARUM: It’s alright. I’m alright.

No thanks to my Keep!

KEEP: (TIRED, SAD SINGING)

RILLA: Arum… it’s sick.

ARUM: Oh, is it sick? Is it tired? Because I’m certainly tired, too, but I’m at least holding up my end of the bargain, aren’t I? We’re supposed to protect each other, you ungrateful plant! Are you even trying?!

RILLA: Arum… come on. Of course it’s trying. It’s just—

ARUM: It’s fought off illness before! And curses, and sieges, and…! If it wanted to live, it would. It’s chosen to give up!

Haven’t you? Haven’t you!

KEEP: (TIRED, SAD SINGING)

RILLA: Stop. I know you’re upset, but this isn’t helping. If the problem was just that the Keep didn’t want to get better… it would already be dead. When people really give up… it’s over pretty quickly.

ARUM: Then the only thing those people are missing is… the will to live.

Get out of my way.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: What? Where are you going?

ARUM: Your compulsion to gather facts and put them all in a row might be effective for your simple concerns, but when you grapple with a near-infinite being you must employ near-infinite power.

RILLA: What are you doing with the Hermit?

ARUM: What do you think? Move.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: Arum, we don’t know what that’s going to do. At this stage, we have to be careful!

ARUM: We should never have gotten to this stage in the first place. I’m getting us out of it.

SOUND: BOTTLE UNCORKS. LIQUID POURING. CHIMES JINGLING.

There, little Hermit… teach this Keep the value of a life, that it may fight this stone away, tktktktktktktktk.

SOUND: TWO DROPLETS.

KEEP: (CURIOUS SINGING)

ARUM: There. You see, Amaryllis, how the color returns to this stone?

RILLA: I do.

KEEP: (STRAINED WORKING SONG)

SOUND: STRETCHING, CREAKING.

ARUM: The doors. This is the effort I’ve been looking for. Learn from the Moonlit Hermit, my Keep. With enough will, enough desire, even death itself holds no power—

KEEP: (HIGH, PAINED NOTE)

SOUND: POP.

ARUM: (HISSES)

RILLA: Whoa!

SOUND: CRACKING, CRUMBLING.

ARUM: Push it back, Keep! Try, tktktktktktktktk!

KEEP: (EXHAUSTED SINGING)

ARUM: No excuses!

Try it again.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

RILLA: Uh-uh! No way! Gimme that!

ARUM: Amaryllis… this was effective. It fixed things, for a moment.

RILLA: Do you think your Keep could take another shock like that? Do you? Because your workshop is starting to look like a quarry.

ARUM: That is just how magic operates. When you reach for the cosmos, there are no guarantees. What didn’t work then may work now. We will not know unless we try.

RILLA: So magic is inconsistent.

ARUM: Exactly.

RILLA: And so: useless. Huh. That’s good to know.

ARUM: What?

RILLA: You can reach for the cosmos, Arum, and that’s great. But sometimes you just want what’s right in front of you. That’s when you gather evidence.

ARUM: Hah!

RILLA: The reason we want results to be consistent is because some things are too valuable to risk on a maybe. Like your Keep, for example. So: we have to figure out the problem, and in order to that, we need data. Do you have a microscope?

ARUM: A what?

RILLA: It lets you see things that are really, really small. If I could get a closer look at the Keep’s cell structure, I might be able to—

ARUM: Why should you care what things so small look like? Perhaps they don’t want to be seen.

RILLA: (SIGHS) I need to take a sample, at least. Do you have a chisel, or something? I want to see if there’s any living tissue underneath this stone.

ARUM: (GRUMBLES)

SOUND: SCRAPING.

Here. The Keep dropped it, so let’s hope it isn’t broken, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: It’s a pick, Arum, I don’t think dropping… whatever.

SOUND: SHOVELING DIRT.

This spot should do.

SOUND: SHARP TAPS.

ARUM: What are you even hoping to find?

RILLA: Well, I hope I find the cause of the Keep’s illness, but I don’t expect—

ARUM: Hah! Typical human overconfidence. Be careful of what you unearth with that blade, little Amaryllis – for your own sake. The secrets this Keep holds tie into the very fabric of the universe. To think you will be able to contain them within your small human mind is pride itself—

RILLA: Found it.

ARUM: What.

RILLA: Yeah, look at this.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

See that white fuzz on the greenery packed in there? Mildew. Pretty common plant infection.

ARUM: And it typically causes flora to turn into stone?

RILLA: Just eats them, usually. But, if their host has this much magic rolling around inside it… I, I don’t know. If I had my lab I could do some tests on it, but…

ARUM: But?

RILLA: Your tools are very, very, very, very bad.

ARUM: Ungrateful—!

RILLA: But hey, the study of medicine’s way older than proper measurements. It was less accurate then, but still followed the same rules: test, take notes, test some more, and once you’ve found a pattern, use it. So get some paper ready, Arum: I’m sending you and the Keep out shopping.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): I had a plan in mind, but it was going to require a lot of supplies. I gave Arum my list, and he translated it into terms the Keep could understand.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA: I need a ruler – something that will help me measure length.

ARUM: Keep, a stick with notches at regular intervals.

RILLA: And some pure water with a few drops of oil. A few gallons of that would be great.

ARUM: That’s two gourds of Spring-Dew with Bloatnut runoff, Keep.

RILLA: Some kind of device for spraying… and for holding it all together.

ARUM: A Spitting Lily and a ball of Macrachnid web.

RILLA: And some baking soda. That’s the white powder stuff you find under—

ARUM: And some baking soda.

Don’t make that face. Monsters have made this land’s finest cakes for thousands of years, tktktktk—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And then, we put it all together: a solution comprised of the water, oil, and baking soda, poured into bags tied and fastened to the Spitting Lillies. An antifungal spray not unlike the kind I used at home.

The first tests were promising.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA: Here we go…

SOUND: SPRAY. SIZZLE.

Alright. I think we’re onto something.

ARUM: So… that’s it, then?

Then why is there still stone everywhere, tktktktktktktktk?

RILLA: Because that was just the first test. Help me make another bottle for you. We have a lot of stone to cover.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): It took most of the day to finish that room. And in that time Arum and I didn’t have much to do, besides talk.

Getting to know him reminded me of meeting Damien, in some ways. He was still a knight-in-training back then, a hypochondriac who’d made himself a thorn in the heel of every doctor he went to… and when he took a blow from his first real monster, nobody in the Citadel would treat him. So, he had to come to me. (CHUCKLES) Scorpion Queen venom, I remember. He was such an awful patient. Always trying to make grand gestures of strength or heroism, always making himself sicker.

But, in his quiet moments, when he’d tell me his stories, we’d get lost in them. They were beautiful, and so funny. And we could talk for hours, he was so curious about my work, and—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

DAMIEN: And so the great doctor took the warrior’s mighty belt and ventured on into the plague-stricken night. Oh, Rilla, it was a bright twilight then, the sky shimmering as black silk before a raging flame, and—

Wha– what is that?

RILLA: Don’t stop.

DAMIEN: Is that– that’s your recording device, isn’t it?

RILLA: Yes, and? I just wanted to have this story for later, too.

DAMIEN: (COUGHS) Yes, but, well– I wasn’t– p-perhaps it wasn’t meant for any time but this, a-as only, i-i-if I knew it would be recorded I would have, perhaps, written it down, revised it, or— (COUGHING)

RILLA: Stop, stop, stop. If you don’t calm down that venom’s never going to get out of your system.

DAMIEN: (PANTING) Y-yes… doctor…

RILLA: (GIGGLES)

DAMIEN: What? What is it? My face, i-it’s gone a color, hasn’t it? Rose Fever! Oh, Saint Damien, I knew I would die this way, pink-cheeked and babbling—

RILLA: No, no, you’re fine. You’re just…

It’s cute, when you get all riled up. When you call me doctor. Annoying, but… cute.

DAMIEN: Annoyed? Oh, Saints, I’ve annoyed you! A thousand lashes on my person, a thousand thousand—

RILLA: (LAUGHS)

DAMIEN: What? What did I…?

(CHUCKLES) Oh. Well… that is rather funny. (LAUGH-COUGHING)

RILLA: Now, go on. Tell me more about this doctor. How beautiful was she?

DAMIEN: Beautiful, of course, beautiful. But her beauty was nothing compared to her mind, sharp as the blade and patient as its whetstone. Why, it’s said she once outwitted a tower full of Sphinxes, an Academy, no less—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And… those stories… that time with him? That was worth the world. Worth every late night panic. Worth everything.

Arum doesn’t tell stories. Or ask questions, really. But… he does have his moments.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

ARUM: My, this is an interesting patch… I’ll have to keep you for further study, tktktktktktk—

SOUND: SPRAY.

(HISSES) My cape! You’ve gotten serum all over my cape!

RILLA: Had to get your attention somehow. Now get down here and—

SOUND: SPRAY.

(YELPS) My hair!

ARUM: There. Now we’re even—

SOUND: SPRAY.

(HISSES)

RILLA: You can take your cloak off! I can’t take off my hair!

ARUM: You… can’t?

SOUND: SPRAY.

Agh, stop that, tktktktktktktktk!

SOUND: SPRAY.

RILLA: (GIGGLING) Missed me!

ARUM: Stand… still…

SOUND: SPRAY.

(HISSES)

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): I don’t know why I’m saying this. I know that the Citadel has to protect itself from monsterkind. But…

I’ve seen so many knights kill so many monsters, like I killed Arum’s weeds, without a second thought. And even if Arum is a threat, and even if he does have to be dealt with…

He isn’t all bad. I guess that’s all I’m really saying. He’s—

SOUND: THUMP.

(GASPS)

The antifungal spray we made got rid of the mildew… but, it didn’t cure the Keep.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

ARUM: A bit of green’s returned to this stone… and if I’m not mistaken it’s grown a bit softer.

So we’re really to take it that all this trouble was caused by some common fungus?

RILLA: Not necessarily all. It could have caused a strange immune response in the Keep – the stone as a way to protect itself. Or, this one infection could have weakened the Keep and made way for another, or—

ARUM: Then which one is it?

RILLA: It could take years to figure all that out, Arum. I said science was consistent. I never said it was fast.

ARUM: But in the meantime, my Keep is saved. (CHUCKLES) We’ve done it.

RILLA: We did.

ARUM: Tell me, Amaryllis: did you ever fear we might not get out of here alive?

RILLA: Only for the first eleven hours.

ARUM: But we’ve only been in here for elev—

Oh. (CHUCKLES) Oh, that’s quite good, isn’t it? (LAUGHS)

RILLA: (LAUGHS)

And Keep, how do you feel?

KEEP: (TIRED HAPPY SINGING)

ARUM: (LAUGHS) It’s saved! My Keep is saved! We’ve done it, tktktktktktktktk!

RILLA: Oh! Uh… haha… ah, uh, Arum?

ARUM: Yes, Amaryllis?

RILLA: Maybe you should… put me down, now.

ARUM: …Oh. Yes, yes, that seems… right.

RILLA: …Thanks.

ARUM: (CLEARS THROAT) That’s… hm… sleep exhaustion. Natural biological response. I blame you entirely.

RILLA: It’s really okay, Arum – but, maybe we should just, uh—

ARUM: Go. Yes, agreed.

SOUND: SLITHERING. CREAK.

(GRUNTS)

Hm. But the door, it seems, is still… (GRUNTS)

SOUND: CREAK.

Petrified.

RILLA: Right, no, that makes sense. We only got this room. You’ll have to do this for the whole Keep if you want to really drive the illness back.

ARUM: And if we’re sealed in here… you plan to have the Keep apply its own cure. Interesting.

RILLA: Exactly. Keep!

KEEP: (TIRED SINGING)

RILLA: That process we just did? I want you to use your vines to do that everywhere you can. Think you’ve got it?

Uh… Keep?

KEEP: (TIRED WORKING SONG)

SOUND: STRETCHING, CREAKING.

KEEP: (SINGING FADES OUT)

RILLA: That… doesn’t sound good.

ARUM: It certainly does not.

Keep. You will do as Amaryllis says. Apply the medicine. Now.

SOUND: STRETCHING, CREAKING.

KEEP: (SAD, TIRED SINGING)

SOUND: CRACKING, CRUMBLING.

RILLA: The petrification is spreading again!

ARUM: Keep! Stop that this instant! Your lord and creation commands you!

KEEP: (HIGH PAINED NOTE)

ARUM: Keep! You will open this door!

SOUND: POUNDING ON DOOR.

Open it at once! Keep!

RILLA: (AFTER A PAUSE) Arum… I’m sorry.

ARUM: (PANTING) I hope you’re happy with yourself.

RILLA: Me? You think this is my fault?

ARUM: Of course it is. You gave it the command that turned it to stone, tktktktktktktktk!

RILLA: The Hermit hurt it much worse than that! And whatever was causing this started before I got here! You know that!

ARUM: (GROWLS) We lived perfectly well on our own.

RILLA: Yeah, until you kidnapped me.

ARUM: Oh, this again.

RILLA: Yeah, this again! This forever, actually!

ARUM: Then I suppose you’ve had your revenge, haven’t you? Congratulations.

RILLA: I didn’t do this. This wasn’t revenge.

ARUM: Call it whatever you like, it’s a purely human concept. Revenge, fairness, this sense that everything must balance out. It’s the ugliest part of thinking everything should make sense. Because when you believe the scales should be even and someone adds a slight to your side, you add a slight to theirs, and all you’ve done is created a crueler world than you started with.

RILLA: You don’t get off that easily. I had a family. Friends. You shouldn’t have kidnapped me.

ARUM: Oh, should. It’s always should, isn’t it? Should I have kidnapped you? No. But I’ve also never asked you for forgiveness, have I? Well, have I? (SNORTS) You humans. You get so caught up in what should be true that you never think about what is. Everything in its little box, hmm? I should not have done what I did, so do whatever you like to me. Never mind the fact that I should never have met you, should never have had to step into that cesspit Citadel in the first place!

It’s evil, this need to categorize, to call things good and bad. Justification for crushing those who have already been crushed. Evil.

RILLA: Yeah, okay, so, you’re really not in a good place to talk right now.

ARUM: Oh, yes! Casting judgment is so easy, isn’t it?

Where are you going? We’re trapped in here!

RILLA: Commanding the Keep isn’t working right now, and you’re in a mood, so I’m just killing time until one of those things changes. Could you hand me that Macrachnid silk?

ARUM: (GRUNTS) I don’t see how that helps.

RILLA: Maybe it doesn’t.

ARUM: What happened to your reproducible results? Your “it has to work every time”?

RILLA: It’s been a big day. Maybe I learned something.

SOUND: GUITAR NOTE.

This’ll work.

ARUM: …What are you doing?

SOUND: STRETCHING.

RILLA: Measuring the silk. Cut here, please.

ARUM: Ridiculous.

SOUND: SNIP.

RILLA: And here…

SOUND: SNIP.

and here…

SOUND: SNIP.

and here.

ARUM: (GROWLS)

SOUND: TAPPING. STRETCHING.

RILLA: Mmm, now, I’ll just fasten these to half of one of the gourds, and… aha!

SOUND: GUITAR STRUM.

ARUM: What’s that grinning? What are you doing?

RILLA: Proving a point.

SOUND: GUITAR NOTES.

ARUM: Of course. It’s always an argument with you, isn’t it?

Don’t look so smug, tktktktktktktktk! I’ll show you.

SOUND: SAWING, HAMMERING, STRETCHING.

There. See? No measurements required.

RILLA: Alright. Play it.

ARUM: Gladly.

SOUND: DISCORDANT-BAD CHORD.

What? I must be holding it wrong.

SOUND: DISCORDANT NOTES.

(HISSES)

SOUND: MORE DISCORDANT NOTES. GRUNT, ONE LAST DISCORDANT NOTE.

A waste of time, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: Huh. So, do you want to know why yours didn’t work?

SOUND: GUITAR NOTES.

ARUM: Because sometimes magic just doesn’t, as our current situation demonstrates. And music, obviously, is a form of magic.

RILLA: (LAUGHS)

ARUM: What? What’s so funny?

RILLA: Music’s not magic, Arum. Come on – music is math.

ARUM: We invented mathematics before you. But we moved on to something better.

RILLA: You found something bigger, maybe. But there’s something beautiful about things that work every time, isn’t there? Something comfortable. The same notes always make a chord; it’s all about counting the same chunks of time. It can even have psychological effects, slowing heart rate, and preventing rushing thoughts and—

ARUM: You said can. Not must. So much for reliable, hm?

RILLA: I guess that’s a fair point.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Meet me by the river / Where the elderberries—

ARUM: What?

MUSIC: STOPS.

What– what are you doing?

RILLA: Uh… singing?

ARUM: Why!

RILLA: I thought it might be fun? And, like… what else are we going to do?

ARUM: (GROWLS) …You may continue.

RILLA: Oooookay.

MUSIC: STARTS.

Meet me by the river / Where the elderberries grow / When stars are silver / No one has to know…

MUSIC: ENDS.

KEEP: No one has to know…

RILLA: Saints above, what the—

ARUM: Shhhh! Keep going!

MUSIC: STARTS.

RILLA: Meet me by the river / By driftwood and stone / I’ll float down with her / No one has to know…

KEEP: (HARMONIZING)

RILLA: And if the old man caught me stealin’ / Wouldn’t bother to lie / Momma let her baby grow through the ceiling / But do we wonder why? / She seems so bitter / Bitten by the cold / I’ll watch her shiver / And leave her alone…

MUSIC: ENDS.

KEEP: Meet me by the river / Where the elderberries grow / When stars are silver / No one has to know…

(SNORING)

RILLA: More… petrification?

ARUM: No. It’s… asleep.

I don’t think I’ve ever heard the Keep sleep before.

RILLA: Must be tired.

ARUM: That’s ridicu—

That’s…

RILLA & ARUM: (IN UNISON) That’s it.

RILLA: Sleep deprivation causes a weakened immune system…

ARUM: And its mood has been poor…

RILLA: Depression, skin problems, poor self-care…

ARUM: All that work I made it do… all those sleepless nights.

RILLA: Why don’t… we try the door?

ARUM: That sounds… like an excellent idea, Amaryllis.

SOUND: SLITHERING. GRUNTS, DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

RILLA: So I guess we��re free.

ARUM: We are. And now I owe you your payment.

(CLEARS THROAT) Follow me. I will show you your way out, now.

RILLA: But… don’t you want to make sure—

ARUM: No, no, I think it should be now. And bring the Hermit, would you? After the trouble it’s caused, I… don’t know what I am going to do with it, but I’d rather it not stay here.

SOUND: SLITHERING. GRASS RUSTLING, CHIMES JINGLING. RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Because the Keep was asleep, it wouldn’t respond to our commands, so instead of Arum’s magic door we had to use the real front door, far, far below us. Carrying the Moonlit Hermit all that way was… like a dream. I could feel that glow within it, and I could feel my old hopes stirring again, and I could feel my fear, too – of the things it had made. Of what it had made the Keep do to itself. I didn’t know what we were going to do with it. None of the options made me feel any better.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES. CHIMES JINGLING GENTLY.

ARUM: This must be strange to you. A patient who would get better if it rested, but who insists on writhing.

RILLA: That’s pretty typical, actually.

So… how do you think the Keep learned that song? It’s an old folk tune, way back from the First Citadel, I think. How’s a monster plant learn that?

ARUM: I don’t know. A traveling human, maybe. Or perhaps a traveling human learned the song from it. I’m not sure how we’d ever learn the difference.

RILLA: You sang it beautifully.

ARUM: O– oh. Thank you.

(CLEARS THROAT) But, you see, this proves my point exactly.

RILLA: What point?

ARUM: Music. It’s magical in nature.

RILLA: Oh, come on, really—

ARUM: I’ve never lost in debate before and I won’t lose now. It’s magical. The lullaby that the Keep sung me as a whelp – it didn’t work every time, did it? Unpredictable. You can do everything right and it doesn’t always have the desired effect. Sleep, or the aesthetic beauty of the notes, or what-have-you.

RILLA: Huh. Yeah, I guess you’re right.

ARUM: And besides, according to the great sorcerer and former Keep-Lord Purple-Plumed Vaxellius, music is firmly– what was that?

RILLA: Kind of right, anyway. I mean… why can’t it be both?

ARUM: Nonsense.

RILLA: No, I mean… maybe, that’s what makes music special. It uses these predictable scales and measures, and combines them with some unpredictable something—

ARUM: Magic. And what comes out isn’t really either. It’s… more.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): I looked at him, and… his eyes. His violet eyes.

Subject: Amaryllis of Exile. Input: interaction with the monster Arum, Lord of the Swamp. Observations: Accelerated heart rate. Sweating palms. A rushing feeling, like… riding a horse, like falling, like… reaching the top of a mountain and seeing just how small you really are. Racing thoughts. A tingling in the lips.

I looked at him, and I felt… what I guess, is a kind of magic.

And I think he did, too.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

ARUM: (CLEARS THROAT) Nonsense, of course. But… a nice theory, anyway.

RILLA: Right. Nonsense. Right.

ARUM: And… how did you know the singing would work? You finished your instrument with such purpose.

RILLA: Right, right. The singing.

Uh, honestly? It wasn’t for the Keep to start. It was for… you?

Because you sounded worried, I mean. Anxious.

ARUM: Doctor, scientist, musician… how many hats do you wear, Amaryllis?

RILLA: Whichever one I think is interesting today. There are just so many things to know about, you know? And so many interesting people who know all about them. Doctors and scientists and poets and…

ARUM: Knights.

RILLA: And knights.

ARUM: I imagine you must be excited to rejoin them, then.

RILLA: I am. I miss them.

ARUM: Well.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

You to your home. And me to mine.

RILLA: Yeah.

Um… Arum?

ARUM: Yes, Amaryllis?

RILLA: You said… that those grubs… they’re for a contract with some other monsters. Right?

ARUM: (SNORTS)

RILLA: Arum… what are you making for them?

ARUM: I cannot tell you that.

RILLA: If you’re making weapons for the monsters to use against the Citadel… Arum, that’s my home.

ARUM: Of course.

RILLA: There are people that I love there, Arum, just like you love this Keep. If there’s any way I can protect them—

ARUM: Foolish… should have known better.

RILLA: You aren’t listening to me.

ARUM: Oh, but I understand you, Amaryllis. I may have had a lapse in judgment, but I understood you perfectly well the moment we met. Whether you round up or down, you always need things to come out neatly – true or false, honesty or lies. Any creature that cannot tolerate the grayness in between cannot be trusted.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

So go. Leave.

RILLA: I’m just trying to protect my friends. My family!

ARUM: And I mine. We are at war.

SOUND: SWAMP AMBIANCE.

It was foolish of us to forget that. Even for a moment.

Farewell, Amaryllis. I am… glad to have met you. And so I hope the universe wills us peace such that we never see each other again.

RILLA: Arum—

ARUM: I said farewell!

RILLA: Ah!

SOUND: SPLASH, DOOR SLAMS SHUT. WET FOOTSTEPS.

You don’t just get to hide away! Your actions—

SOUND: POUNDING ON DOOR.

—have consequences, you… you coward! (PANTING)

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And now… here we are. Just me, and thatthing out there, and—

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

…the Moonlit Hermit. I don’t know why I still have it. Before I broke my ankle, I kept meaning to throw it out, but… then I’d think about what I could make with it. What humanity could make with it. Because, if the monsters have been planning something, making weapons? Then we’re going to need all the help we can get. Right?

And so… in the name of survival, we take the weapon too terrible for a monster, and – what? Keep struggling for life like nothing else matters? Make abominations and trade away our souls just because we’re so afraid to die?

SOUND: GEARS SPINNING, RECORDER PLAYS.

ARUM (FROM RECORDER): Yes, it forgets to live. It finds something that matters more to it. Are you happy, tktktktk?

SOUND: RECORDER STOPS, QUIET. THEN THUMPS APPROACHING.

RILLA: That’s maybe… the most important question I’ve ever asked. And… I’m not going to live to see how it works out, am I?

And so… I guess I leave it to you, whoever you are. I can’t make you do anything, but… please. Just think. And do the right thing.

And tell Damien that I love him. Tell him that I lived for him like he lived for me. Please.

End of log.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGES. LONG SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGES. THUMPS.

RILLA: (DEEP BREATH) Alright, Rilla… be brave, be brave…

SOUND: MACRACHNID CLICKS. SAWING.

If you’re going to do it, just do it!

SOUND: MACRACHNID SQUEAL. BLADE SLASH. GRUNT, WET STAB, CRUNCH, MACRACHNID PAINED SCREAM. GRUNTS, MACRACHNID SCREAM FADES OUT.

SIR CAROLINE: Hmph. I was told that the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms held the most terrible monsters of this region. How disappointing.

RILLA: (PANTING) You… you killed it. I thought it couldn’t… I thought it was…

CAROLINE: Invincible? (LAUGHS) Perhaps for a lesser warrior. One distracted by women or poetry.

RILLA: Poetry?

CAROLINE: You’re right. On second thought, the women are fine. Now, let’s get you up. (GRUNTS)

RILLA: (PAINED GASPS)

CAROLINE: There you are…

You. I recognize you. Why do I recognize you?

RILLA: You’re the lady knight. Sir… Caroline? Right?

CAROLINE: (SIGHS) And you’re the missing herbalist whose name I’ve blocked out completely.

RILLA: It’s Rilla.

CAROLINE: Don’t say it again. Your fiancé has been shouting at me for weeks.

RILLA: Damien? You’ve been with Damien? Where is he?

CAROLINE: On the other side of the lake, where he belongs.

You’re… certain you want to marry him? Really? I’m not even sure I want him alive, to be honest.

RILLA: Wait, wait, slow down. Are you all out here to save me?

CAROLINE: Ugh. No. I am the Queen’s Investigator-General. Saving little lost girls is well below my pay grade.

There have been monsters with powers of manipulation running rampant across these lands for months, now – and according to your Damien, one such monster had its claws upon you. A lizard of some sort, I’ve been told. Repeatedly. At high volumes.

RILLA: A… lizard?

CAROLINE: Indeed. …What’s happened to you, exactly? Injured during your escape, were you?

RILLA: It wasn’t an escape, really, i—

CAROLINE: You were captured. What else would it be?

RILLA: He… let me go.

CAROLINE: Oh, did he? Sent you on your way home with a packed lunch and a pat on the head, hmm?

RILLA: No, it wasn’t that, it was—

CAROLINE: Treason, then?

RILLA: Wh… what?

CAROLINE: Well, if you didn’t escape and he didn’t let you go, that’s the only conclusion left that I can think of. You came to an agreement with a monster. And that is, by definition, treason. And a Knight of the Crown may deliver punishment for treason wherever and whenever she pleases.

RILLA: That isn’t true. Damien says that a trial—

CAROLINE: That may not be true, but I see no one here to say otherwise.

RILLA: You’re a knight. Aren’t you supposed to help people?

CAROLINE: I am supposed to protect the Citadel at all costs, and that is precisely what I am doing.

RILLA: The Citadel… we have to go, now! The monsters, they’re planning an assault, and if we don’t get back and tell the Queen—

CAROLINE: Hm, it sounds like we’re running out of time, then.

RILLA: We are.

CAROLINE: A fact which concerns you greatly.

RILLA: It does!

CAROLINE: Then in that case I think you ought to get on with it and tell me: where is the lizard I must slay?

RILLA: Please, he’s—

CAROLINE: He’s what?

RILLA: He’s… that way.

CAROLINE: I thought you might come to reason.

SOUND: BLADE SHEATHING.

Well. Lead the way.

RILLA: My ankle’s twisted. Broken, probably. I need something to make a splint.

CAROLINE: Then find it. Quickly.

MUSIC: STARTS. RILLA: See those sticks over there? In that patch of sunlight? Bring me to them and I’ll make the splint myself.

CAROLINE: Hmph!

SOUND: GRUNTS, PANTING.

RILLA: Thank you.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

CAROLINE: What was that?

RILLA: What was what?

CAROLINE: You dropped something just now. I saw—

RILLA: Well, where is it, then?

CAROLINE: Very well.

You have two minutes to build your splint.

RILLA: I need at least fifteen—

CAROLINE: You have two. Minutes.

And then… we have a lizard to hunt.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert, and composer Ryan Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

RYAN: …person, both of them.

SOPHIE: Well, they have a lot in common. But, like, y’know, he kidnapped her.

KEVIN: Yeah and I think one of the, the things that made this so much harder, than the Damien and Arum relationship, is that, like, the Damien and Arum relationship goes a long way just based on wantin’ some smooches. It, like, that is—

SOPHIE: Smooches, yeah.

KEVIN: —smoo– yup.

SOPHIE: (GIGGLES)

KEVIN: Ah. This is a PG program, folks.

RYAN: Big– they’re big smooch, smooch fellas, yeah.

KEVIN: Big—!

SOPHIE: (LAUGHS)

KEVIN & SOPHIE: (IN UNISON) Smooch! Fellas!

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Cantaloupe, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Juno Yanto, Regan, Ko, KC, Kim Zeugen, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Moonlit Hermit, was told by the following people: Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Noah Simes as Lord Arum, Kate Jones and Kat Buckingham as the Keep, Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien, and Leslie Drescher as Sir Caroline, with musical direction by Melissa Ennulat, and assistance by Kat Buckingham.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

SECOND CITADEL – THE MOONLIT HERMIT (PART ONE)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

The Moonlit Hermit.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: MECHANICAL CLICKS, WHIRRING, CLICK. LIKE A JUKEBOX CHANGING TRACKS.

RILLA: (GROGGY GASPS) Ugh, my head…

SOUND: LEAVES RUSTLING.

Saints, it’s dark in here. Where… where am I?

(CALLING) Hello?

ARUM: Good morning, little human.

RILLA: (GASPS)

ARUM: Did you sleep well?

SOUND: LEAVES RUSTLING.

RILLA: Who is that? Where are you?

ARUM: Of course. I forgot you creatures had such limited vision.

Keep. The bioluminescents, if you would.

SOUND: SNAP. ELECTRIC HUM.

RILLA: (GASPS)

ARUM: There. Is that better?

RILLA: I… I don’t know why you brought me here, monster, but I’m not—

ARUM: Then it might be wisest to stay silent. Listen:

SOUND: MECHANICAL REVVING UP, GEARS SPINNING. RECORDER PLAYS.

RILLA (FROM RECORDER): Looks like… an insect larva, but, not one I’ve ever seen before. Pure white, no eyes, a weird warmth emanating from it… and that sound. Like a heartbeat… like the Numbcap.

I took the specimens I could and I killed the rest, but… what even is it?

SOUND: RECORDER CLICKS OFF.

RILLA: My– recorder… where did you—

ARUM: I’m going to be direct, because I don’t have time for anything else. I brought you here because I wasn’t sure how much you knew about my grubs, and I couldn’t have you telling your soft-minded friends about them. I now know that you know nothing, and so this entire exercise has been a waste of my time, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: So… what? I get to go home now?

ARUM: Of course. I’ll just give you your recorder and you’ll be on your merry way. As soon as you do something for me.

RILLA: As soon as I what?

ARUM: There’s no need to sound so surprised. Barter is as old as language – it exists for monsters and humans and everything in between. I give you freedom; you perform a service for me.

RILLA: That’s not a trade! You kidnapped me!

ARUM: I could kill you, instead.

RILLA: You wouldn’t.

ARUM: (CHUCKLES) Keep. Lights out.

SOUND: ELECTRIC HUM STOPS. LEAVES RUSTLING.

RILLA: (GASPS) Turn the lights back on, or I’ll—

ARUM: (HISSES)

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: Ah!

ARUM: (LAUGHS) This contraption is not the only one of your records I’ve examined. You have a knowledge of plants. How to care for them, treat them, use them. And as it happens I have a sudden need of someone who understands the workings of flora.

RILLA: You want me… to work for you?

ARUM: The diagrams I found hidden beneath your floorboards suggest you’d take great interest in my craft. Vivisections of monstrous life, incomplete formulae on magic spells, theoretical diagrams of creatures unseen… you desire to know the universe as it is, and not as it is told to you. And if you cure my patient, you will be allowed one long, lingering look into that grand infinitude you wish to know.

RILLA: Patient? Who would—

ARUM: Tktktktktktktktk!

RILLA: (HEAVY BREATHING)

ARUM: Or I can kill you right now. In the dark. And you will never know the wonders you could have witnessed, tktktktk.

So? Which will it—

RILLA: The first one.

ARUM: That was… very fast. Are you certain—

RILLA: Is there a plus side to the dying one that I’m missing? ‘Cause, if not, I’m good.

ARUM: (GROWLS) Keep! Retract the walls!

MUSIC: SINGING STARTS.

SOUND: DEEP RUMBLING, CREAKING.

RILLA: Where are you taking me?

ARUM: Nowhere. We’ve been here all along.

RILLA: …Whoa. What is… all this life, all these plant species… I’ve never seen…!

MUSIC: SINGING ENDS.

SOUND: RUMBLING STOPS. JUNGLE AMBIANCE FADES IN.

Those trees over there; those are Everdeads, aren’t they? But they’re only native to—

ARUM: The Western Wastes, yes.

RILLA: And that’s a thatch of Inky Clover! And that’s Dayshade… and… and… there are specimens here I didn’t believe were real. How did you—

ARUM: Welcome to my Keep, little human – the castle from which I rule this swamp, the font from which every Titan’s Bloom springs. It is your patient.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE [FROM THE START OF THE EPISODE].

SOUND: SWAMP AMBIANCE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Research log. Entry… I guess it doesn’t matter. This is… probably going to be the last one I ever make, anyway.

MUSIC: STARTS.

For whoever finds this, my name is Amaryllis of Exile. My home is the Second Citadel. And… please. I need you to get this recording there as fast as you can. I don’t understand it all, but, I hope that this will help them prepare for what’s coming.

SOUND: HAMMERING.

Because the things I’ve seen out here? The things I’ve been told…

SOUND: SPLASH.

(GASPS) It’s out there again. Saints, just keep it away a little longer… I don’t have much time. I was escaping, trying to get out of this swamp, but my ankle… I think I broke it. And now that thing is after me, that… I don’t even know what to call it. Like a monster. No, worse – because I made it.

I probably don’t have enough time to retell the whole story, so I’m going to piece together the recordings of what happened in the living Keep. You should hear it for yourself, anyway. So. This is my final research log. And my final subject: the lizard-creature that calls himself:

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. MUSIC CUTS OFF.

ARUM: Lord Arum, he who rules the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms. And you, of course, are Amaryllis.

RILLA: How did you—

SOUND: CLICK. RECORDER PLAYS.

RILLA (FROM RECORDER): Is it… is it working? Saints, my recorder! It’s really working! (LAUGHS) Marc’s gonna miss this… I should wake him up. I should.

But first… (CLEARS THROAT) Research log, entry one. I am Ril– no, no, make it sound professional. I am Amaryllis of Exile, and I, along with Marc of the Craftsman’s Quarter, have just invented a consistent process by which sound… can be recorded. (LAUGHS)

SOUND: RECORDER CLICKS OFF.

ARUM: That’s how. I’ve only had time to listen to a few of your recordings, but I know enough.

RILLA: But… wait. You should have had plenty of time to listen through my recorder. It takes… nearly two weeks to get to the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms.

ARUM: It might take two weeks for you creatures. We arrived within two hours.

RILLA: Two hours? But, that’s impossible…

Ugh, just… hold on. This is a lot.

ARUM: I’ve told you I have no time for this. My Keep is sick. And if you ever want to return to Mack and the whole gang back in the Cartographers’ Quadrant, you will have to cure it. Preferably before it dies.

RILLA: Right. Oooookay.

So. How do you know it’s sick?

ARUM: The bond that passes between myself and this lifeform is more than your pitiful mind could ever comprehend, Amaryllis. I always know what it thinks. Always.

???: (SINGS)

ARUM: That doesn’t count. I still think you were lying.

RILLA: The plant-house can… sing? Saints, I get to examine the first plant lifeform that can sing!

And… you responded to it. It said something you could respond to, which means it thought of something to say, which means…

Saints, the plant can think.

ARUM: Not very well.

??? [KEEP]: (HAPPY SINGING)

ARUM: Can we move along now? I think you’ve inflated its ego enough for one day.

RILLA: It has an ego!

ARUM: Here.

RILLA: Here what? This is just a rock.

ARUM: This is the Keep’s sickness. You are going to cure it.

RILLA: You want me to cure… rocks?

ARUM: I want you to cure whatever this is, and quickly. You can come get me when you’ve solved the problem. Farewell.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: But… wait, what? I’m not done asking you questions yet!

ARUM: Then ask them and be done with it. I have important business that needs attending to, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: Alright. When did this sickness start—

ARUM: Irrelevant. That will be all.

RILLA: I can’t figure out what’s wrong with this until I study it!

ARUM: So study it, then. I don’t see what that has to do with me.

RILLA: I need tools! Materials! I need scales, and measurements, and—

ARUM: Scales? Measurements? I don’t care how many pounds of cure you make; I just want a cure!

RILLA: You really don’t have anything like that around here?

ARUM: The forces I work with don’t need them. I understand your measurements well enough to know that I am past them. They are not what truly matters.

RILLA: But—

ARUM: That was your final question. You have the sickness in your hand. You have a greenhouse full of supplies. Anything else you need you will have to make.

RILLA: If you want a cure, Arum, I need to make a diagnosis. And if you want a diagnosis, I need my tools.

ARUM: And if you want your freedom, Amaryllis, you’ll have to figure it out on your own.

Keep. See that her survival needs are met.

KEEP: (INQUISITIVE SINGING)

ARUM: Fine. You may allow her one cushion of her choosing. Just don’t let it distract you.

KEEP: (AFFIRMATIVE SINGING)

ARUM: I’ll check on you in the morning. You may ask a few more questions then.

RILLA: But Arum!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

ARUM: Enough, you stubborn primate! Stay put, mind your work, and do not follow me!

SOUND: SLITHERING. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: (WHISPERING) Research log, entry four-two-two-seven. I followed the lizard to… whatever the hell this thing is.

ARUM: (DISTANT) Just a few more, Keep. We won’t be making many specimens today.

KEEP: (HAPPY SINGING)

RILLA: It seems like this is some sort of workstation for him, but… it’s alive. A closed flower bulb as big as my hut, and vines keep coming out of the walls and feeding it weird things. A basket of dead beetles, a pile of rocks, a gourd full of pulsating liquid…

No. No, it’s not eating. It looks like… a machine. Not like the devices Marc makes, with gears and springs, but… the lizard just… makes small gestures and the whole thing comes to life.

ARUM: Now, you recall the design we discussed this morning?

KEEP: (SINGS)

ARUM: Very good.

MUSIC: KEEP SINGING STARTS.

RILLA: I can’t see what’s happening. I’m going to try to get a closer look.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS. GROWING, STRETCHING, RUMBLING.

ARUM: Excellent. Now let’s take a look at this one.

RILLA: There’s something moving in the bulb, but I can’t—

Saints above. This is going to sound nuts. Rilla, you are going to sound insane. Those things it ate… they’re moving. The stones are like legs, the dead beetles are all melted into one another, and… they’re alive. The lizard knows how to make life.

MUSIC: KEEP SINGING ENDS.

ARUM: Another failure. (GRUNTS)

SOUND: HIGH-PITCHED SCREECH-WAIL. CRUNCH.

Keep. Again.

KEEP: (TIRED SINGING)

ARUM: Of course I mean now. Act like your life depends on it, you ridiculous—

KEEP: (SINGS)

ARUM: The human? What about—

SOUND: SLITHERING.

You. What are you doing here?

RILLA: I… uh…

ARUM: Do we have to re-examine the terms of our deal, Amaryllis? A plant this large is always in need of fertilizer, tktktktktktk.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Observations on the subject, Lord Arum, native to the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms: easily annoyed, very picky about the details he cares about, completely dismissive of the details he doesn’t, selfish, haughty, and… unfortunately, extremely competent. I was never going to fight my way out of here like Damien, or talk my way out like Marc. And without tools, I was never going to cure his Keep’s sickness.

But I was the best researcher in the Citadel. I’d found a thousand cures before. Why not a cure for kidnapping?

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: Are you still there? Go.

RILLA: Yes, Lord Arum.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): After all, if this Keep held things like that, things that… could create life? Surely it had all I needed to trick a lizard into setting me free.

And if I gathered some data that might unlock new boundaries in future research along the way… I mean, that wouldn’t be a bad thing, right?

So, I pretended to work on his cure while I took inventory of what Arum had in his greenhouse. It should’ve taken one day. It took me eight. Because Arum’s organization system… or his lack of a system, or— (FRUSTRATED GASP) Listen. I’ve dealt with bad organizers before. Marc once told me, to my face, that he kept all his springs in the right-hand drawer because on the day he got them he was “feeling right.” But I could deal with that. Because, even if Marc was the only person who could decode his system, at least he had a code, and that meant some sense was being made somewhere for someone. But Arum? He had nothing. He had less than nothing. He had negative organization.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: If you need orchids, go find them.

RILLA: That’s not what I asked. I asked where they are.

ARUM: he orchids live where they like, obviously. Am I supposed to count and place every seed?

RILLA: Kind of, yeah! You really just… mix all the plants around? Even the weeds?

ARUM: Have you ever tried telling a weed it has to move? They can’t talk, you know.

RILLA: No, I don’t talk to it, I just kinda move it!

ARUM: And put up with all that whining? Ugh.

RILLA: They can’t talk, but they can whine? (SIGHS) I just… it would make me more effective if you knew where, generally, your specimens are.

ARUM: And all that effort for what?

RILLA: I don’t know, so you could find them more easily? All in one place, instead of spread out across the greenhouse?

ARUM: (AFTER A PAUSE) Ridiculous. We will never speak of this again.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: You want an inventory? As in a list, tktktktktktktktk?

RILLA: Yes, as in… (FRUSTRATED GRUNT) It doesn’t even have to be written down. I’ll take anything at this point.

ARUM: (STRAINED GRUNT) So you expect me to keep a list of all I’ve ever made? Those projects are— (STRAINED GRUNT) —all finished, whether successes or failures.

RILLA: Sure, but if you kept track of what made the successes work, you could keep having successes!

ARUM: (LAUGHS) Oh, so now you think you can predict the future, do you?

RILLA: No, obviously. But if we can figure out the rules that the future operates on, the mathematical and physical and chemical laws, then—

ARUM: Then you may be queen in your tiny sandbox of what’s understood, while I dance among the stars of the impossible. (SNORTS) Of course I know these mathematical laws. We invented them long before you. And then some of us, the ambitious ones, moved— (STRAINED GRUNT) —on. Because in order for something to be measurable, it must be small enough to measure, and some of us want more.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And he kept doing that, hand-waving at some huge “more” without ever explaining what he meant. I could see some of it in action, plants and animals and fungi that moved in ways that shouldn’t have been possible…

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: Do not be tempted to approach their fronds, even when they molt. When Serrated Palms feel threatened they become sharp enough to cut through solid rock.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: The name is a misnomer. It doesn’t walk so much as kick; the locomotion is an afterthought for the Walking Bonsai. Excellent reflexes, tktktktktktktktk.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: The Macrachnids may—

SOUND: ANIMAL SNORTING, CLICKING.

—look frightening, but they’re quite docile if fed appropriately – which is to say: not at all. No matter how much they beg. Don’t.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And that big plant that made life… that hermit? I had to know what that was. I had my theories and they were killing me, because… (SIGHS) We’ll get to that soon, I guess.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: (PANTING) Alright. Research log, entry four-two-four-one. I think I found some more of the illness on the Keep’s walls, right by the tops of these cacao trees. Taking samples now.

It’s hard, but brittle. Colors ranging from white to light gray; on the inside, there are striations that could be, uh… like the lines inside some… gems. Like… diamonds? Or… wow, I really don’t care about rocks.

But… hang on…

SOUND: SCRAPING.

These ones look almost like tree rings. Petrified wood, maybe? But… crustier, flakier, with this gummy white stuff on the inside, like, uh… bad skin.

This would be a lot easier if I ever listened when Angelo was talking. Rocks and skin care! This is maybe the only patient out there he’d have a better shot at curing than me.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

Hm? What’s that—

ARUM: Here at last, my little specimen!

RILLA: (YELPS)

ARUM: (HISSES) Amaryllis!

SOUND: BRANCHES SNAPPING, LEAVES RUSTLING.

RILLA: (PANTING) Uh… thanks.

ARUM: Don’t thank me. Apologize.

RILLA: Apologize?!

ARUM: Climbing trees when you should be working! Sitting on branches unannounced!

RILLA: I was working. I was just examining this… whatever this is.

ARUM: Oh. So you were.

Well, I doubt your efforts will be needed much longer. You see, I think I have found the path to the cure myself.

RILLA: You… really?

ARUM: Indeed. A great accomplishment, tktktktktktktktk.

Would you… like a demonstration, Amaryllis?

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Subject: Lord Arum. Input: the opportunity to show a successful creation. Observations: widening of the eyes. Shortened breath. Rapid flicks of the tongue, suggesting both increased temperature and… heightened pulse.

Then he seemed to notice it on himself, and the old Arum was back.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: A demonstration, strictly for your duties, of course. To help you… find the cure faster.

RILLA: Uhhh… sure, yeah. I’ll watch.

ARUM: Excellent.

Look closely. I am certain this is something you have never seen before.

RILLA: You don’t know—

SOUND: CLICKS, SQUEAKS, PAINED NOISES.

Saints… what is that thing? Did it come out from that… from that…

ARUM: The hermit, yes. (CHUCKLES) Observant, aren’t you.

RILLA: The thorax resembles a centipede’s, but the head – is that a crow’s beak?

ARUM: No. It is this creature’s beak. Currently.

RILLA: Rotating ball joints, connected to legs that end in… stone. It’s actually stone.

And, that noise… like it has lungs? Or a voicebox, but, I don’t see evidence of—

It’s in pain. Of course it’s in pain. At that size its exoskeleton is probably buckling, and with legs that heavy it can’t even stand!

What have you done to this thing?

ARUM: Created it.

RILLA: How?

ARUM: In no way it didn’t consent to.

RILLA: It can’t have given consent before it was alive!

ARUM: My, you humans do enjoy your ultimatums, don’t you?

RILLA: But—

ARUM: Its pain bothers you, does it? Would you like me to bring an end to it?

RILLA: Don’t kill it! It’s one of a kind!

ARUM: Hmmm. She would rather it suffer, so that she can study it. Well. The human continues to surprise, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: That isn’t what I meant.

ARUM: I wasn’t going to kill it anyway. But end its pain? That I can do. Now watch closely.

You. Subject. Look… here.

SOUND: CLICKS, SQUEAKS STOP.

That’s more like it.

You are called a Chiselpede. You have been created within the universe, wherein there is a place called the Swamp of Titan’s Blooms, wherein there is a Lord called Arum. I am he. As my creation, and the creation of this swamp, you exist as a level among levels, and you will listen to the levels closest to you, and you will trust that they understand the larger picture better than yourself. That means you will ignore things outside your purview, such as physical laws, which are the business of the universe, and you will trust me to inform you what is possible and what is not. Is that understood?

Good. Now… rise.

SOUND: HAPPY CHIRPS.

RILLA: Wh… what?

ARUM: It is precisely as you see it, tktktktktktk.

RILLA: It shouldn’t be able to stand. It's physically impossible.

ARUM: And yet, it stands.

Here, Chiselpede. You see this sickness? This blight?

SOUND: CHIRPS.

I need samples of it. You are to gather them and bring them to the source from which you were born. Is that understood?

SOUND: CHIRPS.

Good.

Now, I think we’ve taken enough of this creature’s time. Off you go, now.

SOUND: CHIRPS.

RILLA: What was that?

ARUM: That is the nature of my work. The impossible. Phenomena which can be neither tamed nor explained.

RILLA: Magic.

ARUM: In a word, yes.

Those will be all of your questions for today. Farewell.

RILLA: But, wait! I just want to know how it works!

ARUM: (SNORTS) Well. How disappointing. I thought you might have learned something, for once.

RILLA: What’s that supposed to mean?

ARUM: Always looking for rules, formulae, guarantees… humans. Feh.

RILLA: Maybe I would’ve learned something if you actually explained it!

SOUND: SLITHERING.

Hey, come on! You’re gonna magically bring that thing to life and you aren’t even going to tell me how you—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): So. I’d gained three things from that meeting: a bigger sample of the disease, a sense of what Arum could do, and a deadline, that was closing in fast. Because if he’d only agreed to let me go if I cured the Keep… what were the odds I’d get to leave if he cured it? I tested my first formula an hour later.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Alright! Fake petrification cure, version one. A light acid found in the berries of the Dayshade; testing to see if it softens the stonelike exterior at all.

SOUND: LIQUID POURING, SIZZLES.

Ow! Ugh! …Ooooookay. That might be… a little too soft.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Version four. It’s been six hours of testing, so far. Suitably soft, but when squeezed…

SOUND: TOY SQUEAK.

Yeah, no, he’s not going to buy that.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Version six, twenty hours. Painted this one green.

SOUND: ROCKS CLINKING.

Yep. Thaaat’s a green rock.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Version eleven, twenty-six hour—

SOUND: EXPLOSION.

Ahhh!

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And each morning Arum still came by and still expected me to have questions. In retrospect, he looked tired, too – but at the time, I was too distracted to tell.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: Here. Some tea from the Serrated Palm’s leaves, taken after group meditation. Don’t thank me; it’s solely to prove you wrong.

I hope you enjoy it.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: You wouldn’t believe the training regimen the Keep and I had to go through to tame the Walking Bonsais in the first place. It was worth it in the end – a great delight, to prune a plant that prunes back.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. MACRACHNID CLICKS & SNORTS.

ARUM: Shh… shh… There, you see? Merely skittish, Macrachnids. They need only to know that you mean them no harm. But once you get them galloping, up walls, across the ceiling…

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Subject: Lord Arum. Input: several days spent together. Observations: the subject is self-involved, condescending, overly nostalgic, and, if his insistence on sharing his accolades with me is any indication, he is also extremely lonely. So lonely, in fact, that I doubt he even realizes it.

And none of that forgives him. It just… distracted me. Made my research that much harder. But every project has challenges, and I beat those.

Eventually.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Alright, okay, alright. (SIGHS) This is petrification Rilla, cure seven… teen…? Ughhh, Saints, I’m tired. Forty-two hours of this. Have to get out of here. Have to.

I think, I hope, that I’m onto something. The solution resembles a paste, and it’s easy enough to apply with the hands. Composed of two parts Greenstain Sap, one part Acidberry, trace elements from a few other specimens, and three parts aloe.

Burns like you wouldn’t believe. Doesn’t matter. Testing… now.

SOUND: DROP OF LIQUID. RUBBING, SQUEAKING.

It… doesn’t hurt. At least.

It’s… working. It works! I can go home! (LAUGHS) I really did it! It’s soft, and it’s green, and– so… are… my hands.

Ughhh, come on, Rilla! If the monster’s hands look like limes when he’s done he’s never going to buy it.

Okay. Just… one more. Just one more try, and then you can sleep. So get…

KEEP: (SINGING, DISTANT) Meet me by the river / Where the elderberries grow

RILLA: What the…?

KEEP: (SINGING) When stars are silver / No one has to know

RILLA: That’s… I know that song. But– how…

KEEP: (SINGING) Meet me by the river / By driftwood and stone

RILLA: (SIGHS, SNORING)

KEEP: (SINGING) I’ll float down with her / No one has to know

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): Damien always said that staying up all night working on my experiments was never going to do them any good. It never meant much coming from him – the knight famous for his five-night staring contest with a Blinking Gorgon wasn’t so generous with sleep for himself, either. So I knew when he said:

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

DAMIEN (FROM RECORDER): You’ll find the answer if you sleep, my love. In rest, the Saints move through us.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): …what he meant was, I’m worried about you. Take care of yourself. I love you.

But… that just made me want to listen even less. I don’t like being told what to do. Especially by a knight. Even if I said the same thing to him when he worked too hard. Damien…

Anyway… I say that only to make the point that that night, Damien was right. So. Tell him that for me. I guess.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: (SNORTS AWAKE) A– a handle. If it’s applied with a brush, he’ll never touch it! And he won’t know it’s just paint. (YAWNS) Saints, I hope the lizard has a coffee plant somewhere in here.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Research log, entry Rilla’s-goin’-home! I have the cure prepared, put together a nice container and brush to make it look official, and I am ready to hand this over to this monster and get out of here – just as soon as he wakes up.

ARUM: (SNORING)

RILLA: I found him like this a few minutes ago. Totally out cold. Would be a good time to gather some data on a deeply, magically complex sentient creature, but… I want to go home, and ending his little nappy sounds more satisfying.

Materials for this experiment: a big stick and a week’s worth of malice. Testing… now.

ARUM: (HISSES AWAKE)

RILLA: (SCREAMS)

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: —and that is why you must never touch me while I am sleeping, tktktktktktktktk.

RILLA: Okay!

ARUM: And you! I told you not to sing… that!

KEEP: (DISAPPOINTED SINGING)

ARUM: I don’t care how tired I looked! You cannot just lullaby me like some hatchling anymore! It’s… inappropriate!

KEEP: (MORE DISAPPOINTED SINGING)

ARUM: Don’t do it again. (GROWLS) Well, Amaryllis. I thank you for the wake-up call, but I have business to attend to.

RILLA: No you don’t.

ARUM: Excuse me?

RILLA: What were you going to do? Build more creations to help your Keep? You don’t have to anymore. I found the cure.

ARUM: You– what?

RILLA: I have it, and a sample of the infected tissue right here. I’ll show you how it works.

SOUND: CLINKING.

It’s simple, really. You just—

ARUM: I know how a brush works, yes.

RILLA: Alright.

SOUND: BRUSH PAINTING.

You have to give it a second to take hold, and be careful not to touch it until it’s done. It… it only works on plants. It would burn our hands. Definitely.

ARUM: I see. Hand it here.

RILLA: Hang on, hang on…

SOUND: SIZZLING.

And… done.

And the best part is that it’s preventative, too, so you don’t need me to make any more of it. Just spread this around a little and the Keep will take care of itself.

ARUM: Well. I have to say that I’m impressed, Amaryllis. You did this… much more quickly than I’d imagined.

You may go now.

RILLA: Really? Just like that?

ARUM: I would rather the silence, yes. You look tired. Go find a soft patch and… hibernate. Or… pupate, or whatever it is humans do.

RILLA: I’d really rather pupate at home, Arum.

ARUM: Well, I can’t just let you go that quickly, can I? I have rigorous checks I’ll have to perform. I’ll have to ask the Keep what it thinks.

RILLA: You don’t care what the Keep thinks.

ARUM: There are many steps involved, Amaryllis. You’ll have to wait.

RILLA: To wait? You want me to wait? My cure works, doesn’t it?

ARUM: It appears to—

RILLA: Prove it doesn’t. Try it on all the disease you want, this treats it, and what did you say I got if I found a treatment?

ARUM: You know fully well—

RILLA: I want to hear you say it. What was our deal, Arum?

ARUM: (GROWLS)

RILLA: You aren’t going to let me leave. You were never going to let me go, were you?

ARUM: Oh, and did you really expect me to? Did you really think I could, tktktktktktktktk?

RILLA: It’s pretty easy, Arum! You just open the door and— (GASPS)

SOUND: HISS, STRIKE.

ARUM: And what, Amaryllis? What? Let you go back to your hive and tell all the humans what the monster is up to? Where to find him, how to kill him, how many pieces to cut him into?

RILLA: I wouldn’t… I-I don’t want to—!

ARUM: A war is on. What we want stopped being relevant the moment the first stone was thrown, no matter who threw it.

RILLA: But… that’s…

Not fair!

ARUM: It is how things work. Fair and unfair are fables. Myths. They can exist only if there are stable rules that govern all action, all things, but there are no rules here. Only survival by any means necessary.

I must protect myself and my Keep. If you were in my position I would expect you to do the same. I will allow you to live here, in my greenhouse, as thanks… but I can give nothing else.

SOUND: PUNCH.

RILLA: You lied to me. All those little favors, those talks we had… you tricked me! We had a deal.

ARUM: What would you have me do, then?

RILLA: Let me go!

ARUM: And then what? (CHUCKLES) You humans… so naïve, aren’t you? The sun itself could descend upon your bald little bodies, and until the end you’d be standing in its rays searching for a way to change its course. Running calculations until it cremated you to the last.

RILLA: And you wouldn’t?

ARUM: Die for nothing? Of course not. I would survive in the shade until every man and monster was ash, and then I would finally have peace.

Farewell, human. I’ll be sure to test your cure right away. Tktktktktktktktk.

SOUND: SLITHERING.

RILLA: (SHOUTING) No! You don’t get to take that if I don’t get to… (GROWLS) Get back here, you… you monster!

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): I was so angry with him that, it took me a while to remember that the cure I’d given him? Was bogus. And that meant, I didn’t have the time to wallow. By the next morning, Arum would know I’d tricked him. So, by the next morning, I’d probably be dead. And if I was ever going to escape… that night was my only chance to do it.

I started by reviewing my notes.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: —when Serrated Palms feel threatened they become sharp enough to cut through solid rock—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: —comotion is an afterthought for the Walking Bonsai. Excellent reflexes, tktktktk—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

ARUM: —ly skittish, Macrachnids. They need only to know that you mean them no harm. But once you get them galloping, up walls, across the ceiling—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA (NARRATOR): And then… there was the hermit, and the creatures it made.

So I had my method. My means. My theory. I didn’t have any time to test it, but… that didn’t matter. I’d only get one shot at this anyway. So when night fell, and on the ceiling high above, the Keep’s solar bioluminescents faded, I gathered my supplies and began my escape.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. MACRACHNID CLICKS & SNORTS.

RILLA: Shh, shh, it’s okay. You’re going to be okay. It’s just a plant. It’s not going to hurt you. It’s… not going to hurt you.

(CLEARS THROAT) Research log four-two-nine-five. I have my supplies. I am entering the hermit… now.

SOUND: GRUNT, LEAF RIPPING. MACRACHNID SCREECH.

Shh, shh. Come on.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

(GASPS) It can’t… no way.

I… would like to correct my previous assumption. The big flower bulb is not the hermit. This is.

SOUND: CHIMES JINGLING.

The Moonlit Hermit.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: MACRACHNID SCREECH, SNORTS.

Shhh. Petals: five, each around three inches long, translucent, a soft glow like… like stars through mist. That’s how Dad’s notes described it. It has no leaves, no roots, even. Just its stem, which Vogel’s called ‘a single strand the color and thickness of spider’s silk.’ The bloom is huge comparatively, way too heavy for the stem, but it’s holding itself up. When the lizard said hermit I hoped, but… I’ve hoped for this a million times before. It’s just a legend. But it’s here.

MUSIC: ENDS.

I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I—

KEEP: (SINGING, DISTANT)

SOUND: MACRACHNID SCREECH.

RILLA: Okay. Escape first, gloat over the find of the century later. I don’t see anything else in here, so does that mean… the Moonlit Hermit can just bring things to life? (SIGHS) I need to check some of my recorder’s notes. End of log.

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE.

RILLA: Alright, notes reviewed. I had… a lot of them. Quick summary: the Moonlit Hermit, a flower with no ability to reproduce, feed, drink, nothing – and yet it lives. Supposed to grow in the shadows of deep caves, and supposed to be magical in composition – a monster, technically. That’s the fairy tale, anyway. Vogel’s First Citadel Panaceas obviously suggests it was sought by early kings as some kind of solution to death. But, I forgot that Reynard’s Specimens of the Northern Wilds mentions it, too: “A glowing pointe upon the clyffe / her tears shall plant the fae-bloom’s gift.” That, of course, being a reference to a contemporary misconception of hallucinations, or fae’s gifts, first cited in—

It doesn’t matter. Whatever weird things it made happened below it. When it was… crying.

No nectar. Then how—

KEEP: (SINGING)

RILLA: Was that… hissing? Did you hear hissing?

SOUND: MACRACHNID SCREECH.

Alright. Time to go.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

Place the serrated frond here… the bonsai root here… and tie them together… there. Now… cry!

Cry!

KEEP: (SINGING)

RILLA: Okay. Got to think like the impossible singing castle. Make you cry. How do I make you cry?

ARUM: (DISTANT) What is all that racket, tktktktktktktktk?

RILLA: Oookay, sad story! Uh, once upon a time, there was a, uh, little girl, and she had these two parents who were doctors, and they helped people a lot, only one day it turned out the doctors weren’t doctors so much as witches, and magic was super-mega-illegal in the Citadel and so they were exiled, which wasn’t great, and the girl had to live with her friends’ parents, only she didn’t think it was fair, so she kept going over her parents’ old notes to try and prove that they weren’t magic, or at least that magic was really just super complicated medicine, only I got caught, and they exiled me too, so I built a cool hut right outside the Citadel and I’ve been waiting for them ever since, but they still haven’t come back even though the new Queen lifted our exiles and I don’t know if they’re even alive, the end, cry!

Oh, come on, seriously? Nothing?

SOUND: SAD MACRACHNID SQUEALS.

Good. Great. Now the spider’s dripping.

Dripping. Dripping! Agh, Rilla, you idiot, the crying’s just a metaphor! Take out my canteen—

SOUND: DROPS OF LIQUID.

—a few drops to the Hermit, then the components, and…

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: RUMBLING, GROWING.

It’s working. The frond and the bonsai are growing together, fusing, reacting! Just like I planned. A living saw. A serrated palm blade, sharp enough to cut through the Keep, a walking bonsai handle, with reflexes fast enough to protect me. And it’s… alive.

ARUM: (DISTANT) Amaryllis! The Macrachnids are a mess! Where are you?

SOUND: MACRACHNID SQUEAL.

RILLA: No, you don’t! You’re my ride out of here!

SOUND: MACRACHNID SQUEALS.

Ugh! Hold still! I just have to grab my saw and—

Where’d the saw go?

SOUND: THUMPS.

What’s that sound?

SOUND: MACRACHNID SQUEALS, WHIMPERS.

Shh, shh!

That’s… that can’t be…

SOUND: BLADE SWISH. LONG MACRACHNID SQUEAL.

(YELPS)

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. MACRACHNID WHIMPERS, THUMPS.

RILLA (NARRATOR): (WHISPERING) Research log, entry… who cares. The saw, it’s not a saw. It’s… how the hell do I describe it? Like… a huge inchworm, maybe? Its head is a freaking leaf-sword, and its tail is a tree with a hell of a kick and then it– it…

It got the Macrachnid. The poor thing still sounds alive, but… it just took its body. The thing’s using it like a big eight-fingered hand, grabbing and climbing and—

SOUND: WHIMPERS, THUMPS STOP.

Where’d it go?

SOUND: SAWING.

Wh… what…?

SOUND: MACRACHNID SCREAM.

Saints—

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. A MOMENT OF SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE AGAIN.

RILLA: (PANTING) Alright. Okay. I think I’m— (YELLS)

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. A MOMENT OF SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE AGAIN.

RILLA: (DISTANT) No, no, no… listen to me. Can you listen? This is the, ehm, Swamp of Titan’s Blooms, where there is a Lord called Arum, and—

SOUND: BLADE SCHING. DULL THUD.

(GASPING) Stop it! I made you! I made— (YELPS)

ARUM: (DISTANT) You made a mess. Now step aside.

RILLA: (DISTANT) Arum!

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. A MOMENT OF SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE AGAIN.

ARUM: (CLOSER) Don’t you order me, you insolent—

SOUND: MACRACHNID SCREECH. BLADES CLANGING.

Yah!

RILLA: (CLOSER) Arum, watch out!

SOUND: RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. A MOMENT OF SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE AGAIN. MACRACHNID SQUEAL, BLADE SCHING. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE. A MOMENT OF SILENCE. RECORDER TRACK CHANGE AGAIN.

ARUM: Yah!

SOUND: BLADE SLASH. MACRACHNID SQUEAL. CRACKING, THWUMP.

RILLA: (AFTER A PAUSE) Is it… dead?

ARUM: (PANTING) It appears to be.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

What do you think you’re doing?

RILLA: I just… wanted to get a closer look.

ARUM: And that recording device, then. That’s supposed to help with your look?

RILLA: There might be some useful data—

ARUM: Data. Answers. Your mindless hunt for those things nearly killed us tonight, do you understand that?

SOUND: QUIET THUMPS.

RILLA: No, actually, I’m pretty sure what nearly killed us was when you wouldn’t let me go home.

ARUM: This again—

RILLA: What else was I supposed to do?

ARUM: Not toying with forces beyond your comprehension seems like a good place to start!

RILLA: Oh, like you understand how the Hermit works perfectly?

ARUM: Perhaps not. But I do know better than to grant the desire to live to something that could kill me.

SOUND: SAWING.

RILLA: Arum—

ARUM: No! You’ve talked entirely enough. You’re lucky that you’re such a useful doctor, little primate, or your throat—

RILLA: Arum! Move! (GRUNTS)

ARUM: Yoh!

SOUND: THUD. WET SLASH.

(PAINED YOWL)

RILLA: It’s getting ready to attack again. We have to move!

ARUM: (PAINED) My side… the blade… (PAINED GASP)

SOUND: SAWING GROWS LOUDER.

RILLA: Oh, Saints.

Oh Saints, protect us.

KEEP: (SINGING, BUILDING UP TO A CRESCENDO)

SOUND: HUGE RUMBLING, CREAKING. SILENCE.

RILLA: (AFTER A PAUSE, PANTING) What… what the…?

ARUM: (IN PAIN) It’s about time, Keep.

KEEP: (EXHAUSTED SINGING)

RILLA: Your house can… just do that? Grow a vine as thick as a tree trunk and just… punch someone with it?

ARUM: It isn’t that impressive. Help me up.

RILLA: Not that impressive? It blew up the Hermit’s cage! It shot that abomination straight through the wall!

KEEP: (EXHAUSTED SINGING)

ARUM: I told you that it is my duty to protect it. That duty goes in more than one direction. Now help me…

SOUND: CRACKING, CRUMBLING.

RILLA: Uh-oh.

SOUND: CRUMBLING ACCELERATES, THEN STOPS. SLITHERING.

ARUM: It’s… petrified. Again.

RILLA: It’s not… I didn’t…

ARUM: Tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch. Tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch-tsch.

RILLA: Arum…

ARUM: You told me you’d found the cure. You told me once I applied it this would end.

RILLA: I—

ARUM: So what was it, then? Stupidity? Or a lie, tktktktktktktktk?

RILLA: You told me I could go home. You said—

ARUM: I would like you to turn that thing off.

RILLA: What?

ARUM: Your recorder. I asked you to turn it off.

RILLA: But my notes…! If you think you can order me around after everything you’ve done—

ARUM: It is not an order. It is a request. I saved your life twice tonight. How many more times do I have to do it, before you’ll turn. That. Thing. Off?!

SOUND: RECORDING CUTS OUT.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actor Noah Simes and co-creators Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

NOAH: …that it has nothing to do with Damien or their fight!

SOPHIE & KEVIN: (IN UNISON) Right.

NOAH: He has no idea—

SOPHIE: Right.

NOAH: —it seems, what their connection even is, that it’s just… I-I-I love that he– and, and, it ha– did have to do with those grubs, and then… even that—

SOPHIE: (LAUGHS) Right, was immaterial.

NOAH: —ended up being, like, a dead end. Both, in his investigation and plot-wise.

ALL: (LAUGH)

SOPHIE: Yeah, that was funny for us.

But yeah, it’s been, how long has it been? Like, when…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Fiona Parker, Ota Arcana, Juno Yanto, Regan, Ko, KC, Kim Zeugen, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, the Moonlit Hermit, was told by the following people: Melissa Ennulat as Rilla, Noah Simes as Lord Arum, Kate Jones and Kat Buckingham as the Keep, and Matthew Zahnzinger as Sir Damien.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#second citadel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE TIME GONE BY (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

The junction lies ahead, so if you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

We are now passing through the Cerberus Province.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Our next stop?

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES.

Juno Steel and the Time Gone By.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: BROOM SWEEPING.

JUNO: So. What’s the plan, here?

BUDDY: Shh.

JUNO: I-I can’t believe this. Your entire deal goes to hell, it turns out the ghost of girlfriends past is running around a decade past her expiration date—

BUDDY: Shhh.

JUNO: —and she’s wearing a tag that could kill her any second and we’re just sitting here?

JACKET: I’m sure your screaming makes Buddy’s thinking much faster.

JUNO: Oh, hey, was that sarcasm? Maybe the big guy’s got enough brain for a sense of humor after all.

JACKET: I have always possessed a sense of humor, Juno. You are just not funny.

JUNO: Come over here and say that—

SOUND: GLASS SHATTERS.

Whoa!

BUDDY: I asked for quiet.

JACKET: I will clean this. Would you like another drink, Buddy?

BUDDY: No thank you, darling. You may take his away as well; I believe he’s had enough.

JUNO: Hey!

SOUND: SLIDE.

BUDDY: I should hope you’d know not to drink and drive, Juno, and yet, here you are, drinking like a fish and driving me up the wall. Why are you here?

SOUND: SWEEPING UP GLASS.

JUNO: What?

BUDDY: I asked why you’re here. Your work is finished; I’ve already told you that as soon as my friend and I sort out this mess, you’ll have your eye problem seen to, and you know very well that we can find you. So, Juno. Why are you here?

JUNO (NARRATOR): The one eye uncovered by Buddy’s flaming hair was burning holes into me. It was the look that fakers like me always dread: the one that said she expected me at my best and wasn’t gonna tolerate anything else.

Only real leaders have that glare. They enforce it in different ways: Valles Vicky would destroy you, Captain Hijikata would make you destroy yourself. Ramses O’Flaherty would make you feel like the whole world was counting on you, so you’d better be good. And Buddy Aurinko, I… still didn’t know what she would do.

MUSIC: STARTS.

I didn’t know if I’d survive finding out, either. My name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye, and if you want to give me a panic attack in four words, ‘why are you here?’ is a pretty good place to start.

BUDDY: Well, Juno? Why are you here.

JUNO: I-I-I don’t know.

BUDDY: Yes you do. Try again, please.

JUNO: What the hell else am I gonna do?

BUDDY: That’s closer, I think, but still not quite all of it.

JUNO: What are you, my therapist?

BUDDY: There aren’t enough creds in the galaxy, darling.

So?

JUNO: (INCOHERENT MUMBLING)

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

BUDDY: We’ll continue this discussion later, then.

Throw me the comms, darling. Then you know what to do.

JACKET: Of course.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

BUDDY: Buddy Aurinko speaking. To whom shall I bill this pleasure?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): It is Rasbach. Though, ‘pleasure’ no is my word, Miss Buddy. I call you with the top, top displeasure.

BUDDY: I can’t say I understand why. We have our money, you have your cure. Everything ended as we planned.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Insult!

BUDDY: There were hiccups, of course, but if you want to get technical, the interloping factor was one of yours – so if anyone should be angry here, I think it’s me.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): I am stabbed! Stabbed!

BUDDY: By a woman wearing a debtor’s tag bearing your branding. Or did you think I wouldn’t notice?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ah, haha, I see. I see, now. Is just so with our sale, yes – Miss Buddy, you make the showing of honesty to harvest sympathy, make you seem the one good, yes, and yet! You conceal the details top inconvenient.

BUDDY: Oh, do I? My, how thrilling! I must be concealing them from myself as well, because I have no idea what you mean.

MUSIC: CHANGES.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): I heard you. Before I left, I heard you say my servant’s name. Vespa.

BUDDY: (AFTER A PAUSE) If you’re waiting for some big, explosive reaction, you’ll have to supply it yourself. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Is shame. Top shame. Vespa, she is the servant excellent. Experience medical, competence high, no looks sick, even. She has the moods violent, the sights and hearings unreal, sometime she need the restraints, but—

BUDDY: Is there a point to this?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ah… forgive me. I will be brief.

The sound of your voice when you say her name, “Vespa…” it gives me the thoughts. You say Vespa as I say the names of family in Balder, yes? I have thoughts that perhaps she is important to you in this way?

BUDDY: We all have thoughts, Raz, and hardly any of them are worth the brains they’re printed on.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ah, it is possible I am wrong. Your culture on these planets Solar, I do not think I will ever understand. Well, in this case, if she no is matter to you, I will continue with the protocol typical.

BUDDY: And what might that be?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Our servant no work for free, eh? The radiation fatal goes through her veins, but with our blood filter, ah! We fill this with spawn bacterial of Curemother, and so we give Vespa life. But is no cure permanent, of course. Curemother is rare, expensive. That is why we have you procure it at price high, I remind you, Miss Buddy, top high. If a servant violate her contract, we no can afford this. So, click! Off with filter, and begin the burning. And Miss Vespa has the death top painful. A fate sad, yes, but the contract she signed is written in terms top clear.

MUSIC: ENDS.

Miss Buddy? Do we have the disconnection?

BUDDY: (CLEARS THROAT) Excuse me, Raz. I was just… taking notes.

Doesn’t that seem a bit harsh to you, darling? A stabbing or two may be unpleasant, but, our transaction ended as intended. A second chance—

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): The Board of Fresh Starts do no give the second chances. Vespa took our care medical, she signed our contract, and she must abide. And yet, I do see your point…

Ah! The hole in loop! You see it, Miss Buddy?

BUDDY: I’m concerned that I may.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Should I possess the contract Vespa, a termination must occur. But contracts… they can be bought and sold, yes?

BUDDY: You… want me to buy her?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Her contract, Miss Buddy. Hours ago you assisted those who buy and sell the contract. This is so different, really?

BUDDY: (AFTER A PAUSE) I suppose not. It takes… stomach, this line of work. I have to say I underestimated you, Razzy.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Most do.

Ah! But wait, I forgot the information vital! The cost!

BUDDY: How much does a human life go for these days, Rasbach?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Hmm… a situation top difficult… with I explain to the company… with I cancel my appointments… with we meet today, yes, must today, I have been in Cerberus too long already, must care for the health, is vital.

Ten million creds.

BUDDY: So exactly as much as you just paid for the Curemother.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ahhh, so you are certain to have it! Top convenience.

BUDDY: If you’ll allow me to think like a business vampire such as yourself for a moment, Raz, I might point out that a single worker should not be worth the same as the system by which you control all of your workers.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Should not, is so. Unfair, is so. But the war… it taught me much, Miss Buddy. Is fair I no see the family? Is fair they should be sick, hungry? Is no fair. Is top no fair. And yet.

BUDDY: And yet.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): I will see you in half-hour at my office.

You are pleasure with do business to, Miss Buddy. Goodbye.

BUDDY: Goodbye, Rasbach.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

BUDDY: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: THUD.

JUNO: Buddy—

BUDDY: Did you catch all of that, darling?

JACKET: I have recorded it, and I can confirm Rasbach’s location. The call was made from the Cerberus Board of Fresh Starts.

BUDDY: Wonderful. An honest slave trader. Simply wonderful.

JACKET: That ten million creds is every cent we have.

BUDDY: Yes, yes, of course it is.

JUNO: Every cent you have? You started this con with nothing?

BUDDY: When we started we had plenty. But heists cost money, as does reopening a bar five years dead.

JUNO: But—

BUDDY: Juno, I am going to be direct with you. I do not have time for whatever personal revelation is currently percolating in that prefrontal cortex of yours. This job has suddenly become important to me, very important. And I want your help on it because your instincts have proven sharp, but I do not have time for your soul-searching.

I have suddenly become a very poor woman. If you come with us, I cannot give you any payment other than what you've already earned. I can promise you that Rasbach is not going to make this as easy as he says, and Vespa…

If you want to keep that head on those pretty shoulders of yours, we’d best hope Vespa does not interfere.

JUNO: This is who we’re saving, and you’re that scared of her?

BUDDY: If she’s as sharp as she used to be, I am. Medicine was not Vespa’s only specialty. Razzy didn’t mention the other, which means either she’s out of practice or else… she’s been planning this escape for a long time.

If you agree to help, I’ll tell you as much as I can on the way. But I make no promises that I will be able to say everything.

Well?

JUNO: Ughhh, fine, I’m coming.

BUDDY: I hoped as much. Dearest one, start the car.

JACKET: Yes, Buddy.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: CARS PASSING.

BUDDY (NARRATOR): Twenty years ago, you could clear a room by saying the names “Buddy and Vespa.” Because in a lot of places, especially in the former Outer Rim before the war drained it of everything it had, those names meant something. They meant style, and flashy heists, and holdups at banks that boasted they could never be held up. Buddy and Vespa, Vespa and Buddy – my, we were a pair. Stars.

Until we fell. As stars so often do.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, GUNFIRE.

VESPA: I’m tryin’ to hold them off Bud, but, out in the open like this, I’ve got noth— Ah!

BUDDY: Vespa?

VESPA: (GASPS)

BUDDY: Vespa darling, keep your balance, it’s only a few more steps and this is far too high to—

VESPA: Buddy… oh.

SOUND: THUD.

BUDDY: Vespa! No! (CALLING) Vespa!

BUDDY (NARRATOR): But then perhaps that’s a bit personal, darling; after all, we’ve only known each other a few hours.

JUNO: I think personal boundaries left the station when you got your goon to start spyin’ on me.

JACKET: I am my own goon.

JUNO: Oh, congratulations. Listen, if you’re gonna tell me this story, tell it right. You lived in the Cerberus Province long enough to build up a bar and a dedicated clientele, but you’re worried Vespa might’ve been down here for five years? You two must have called this place home way longer than that.

BUDDY (NARRATOR): Home is not always the place you live, Juno. Now hush, I’m telling a story.

We rarely slept in the Cerberus Province, if that’s what you’re asking. But this was always where we came back after a job to sell whatever we’d earned, and do whatever deals needed doing… and that meant, we only ever saw it once the danger had passed. We’d fly low over the volcanoes and see the lighthouse, twinkling in the distance… and that, darling, that was home. No matter how tired we were, no matter how late it was, Vespa and I would always watch through the window when the lighthouse went by.

That was our life for years. Then, there was a night, I remember, when the lighthouse was not lit when we returned, and Vespa… found that difficult.

VESPA: Something’s wrong. Bud, do you ever feel like… you ever feel like we’re just doomed?

BUDDY: In the sense of going to age and eventually die? Never.

VESPA: (SIGHS) I just feel like I can feel it. Something bad.

BUDDY: Feel you can feel! Well.

VESPA: Stop.

BUDDY: (AFTER A PAUSE) Oh come on, Vespa. You know I’m sorry. You just get so superstitious sometimes and I—

VESPA: I– I said stop!

I mean, we’d have signed up for it, right? A life like this, running from the cops, sprinting from adrenaline kick to kick, we– we’re gonna get caught! Separated, probably.

BUDDY: Vespa, that isn’t going to—

VESPA: If you’re so positive of that, you shouldn’t mind me talkin’ about it.

There.

BUDDY: There what, darling?

VESPA: If it goes wrong… no, when it goes wrong, we’ll meet there. The lighthouse. No matter what.

BUDDY: Vespa…

VESPA: I can just feel it. It’s coming soon, alright? I know it is. I know it.

Just agree. Please? If you’re so sure I’m wrong, what do you care?

BUDDY: Of course, darling.

I love you.

VESPA: And some days I even know it.

BUDDY: Every superstitious inch of you.

SOUND: THEY KISS.

BUDDY (NARRATOR): I don’t know how long it was – months or years – but everything ends eventually. It doesn’t matter how young and invincible you feel; everything ends, eventually.

Our last job was in the Outer Rim. On Balder. A bank job of a kind we’d done a thousand times before, but…

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, GUNFIRE.

VESPA: I’m tryin’ to hold them off Bud, but, out in the open like this, I’ve got noth— Ah! (GASPS)

BUDDY: Vespa?

BUDDY (NARRATOR, OVER THE LINES BELOW): We must have missed a guard. And then, as we were running across the bridge that linked the two bank towers, where our ship was going to pick us up…

BUDDY: Vespa darling, keep your balance, it’s only a few more steps and this is far too high to—

VESPA: Buddy… oh.

BUDDY: Vespa! No! (CALLING) Vespa!

JUNO: She fell off the bridge.

BUDDY (NARRATOR): She did.

JUNO: How tall was the tower?

BUDDY (NARRATOR): Two hundred and fifty stories. The capital of Balder is known for its highscrapers – the city high above and the city far below.

The next laser came for me.

SOUND: BLASTER SHOT. GASP.

And, unfortunately, I did not fall.

VOICES: Pastasi bin-bin das! Basqueesa Vespa? Ovelisan das mivi! Ove, ove!

BUDDY (NARRATOR): In the end I suppose it’s lucky that I wasn’t wearing a stunproof vest. I would most likely have jumped after her if I had.

JUNO: Two hundred and fifty stories…

BUDDY (NARRATOR): It is remarkable, yes. But she’s survived worse. She has… a talent for field medicine.

SOUND: CLICK.

But even so, five years of radiation…

SOUND: MORE CLICKS.

JACKET: We’ve arrived at the Board of Fresh Starts.

JUNO: Wait, hang on. I still have questions.

SOUND: CLICKS, FOOTSTEPS.

BUDDY: (SNAPS OUT OF NARRATOR MODE) And it seems you will continue to have them. Our welcome wagon is on its way.

JUNO: What—

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

MUSIC: ENDS.

Oh wow, that’s a gun in my ribs, that happened fast.

VOICE 10: Come wiz me, please.

BUDDY: And who are you, precisely?

JUNO: And the hell is that blaster for? I didn’t even do anything!

VOICE 10: Vas menta…? Vis… ehpeesu…

JUNO: What?

VOICE 10: Come wiz me, please.

BUDDY: Rasbach has sent us security we can’t negotiate with. I remember hardly any Balder at all.

JUNO: I speak the language his gun is talking just fine.

BUDDY: Then I’d recommend you listen to it, Juno.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The Board of Fresh Starts office didn’t look like anything special and that surprised me, at first. Then I remembered that the people in charge of this place almost never set foot here. They were probably all partying it up on some solid-gold space station with radiation shields to go around. Let the poor get sick. Let the workers burn. Standard business practice, really.

It was a short walk to Rasbach’s office. He was… a little too excited to see us. Even accounting for the bottle of contraband painkillers on his desk.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

MUSIC: STARTS.

RASBACH: Ah, our guests top desirable! Please, have the seat, have the seat.

Hasslanna mivi das muu.

BUDDY: A bit rude to leave us out of the conversation, don’t you think?

RASBACH: Ah, they no said it? Rudeness, rudeness. Ah, but, is rule top vital. Your… ehm, what is the word… mivi, eh, mivi, eh… Pow, pow! You see?

JUNO: You want us to give up our guns.

RASBACH: Is so, yes. Weapons, they cause the meeting previous end, eh, no good. We do without now.

BUDDY: If that’s the price.

Hand them over.

SOUND: RUSTLING, SEVERAL CLANGS, METAL CLATTERING.

RASBACH: My, ah, is look heavy.

SOUND: ONE LAST CLATTER.

Hah– eh… (CLEARS THROAT) Das mivi ehpeesu.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

Ah, i-is rudeness. I told my servant to—

BUDDY: To leave, yes. Can we conduct business now?

RASBACH: We wait. We wait… and…

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

Now business may begin.

BUDDY: Alright. Just like our last sale: instant transference through our comms, verbal confirmation, fingerprint identification. Ten million creds from my account in exchange for the code to Vespa’s blood filtration bracelet.

RASBACH: Ah, yes, uh, the creds… But of course, if they no tell you they take the gun…

You look this, eh?

SOUND: GRUNT, CLUNK.

BUDDY: That’s the Curemother I sold you, yes.

RASBACH: Yes, yes. But the lock to this case, you see…

SOUND: CLICK, HUM.

Is broken. Is goods defective you give me.

BUDDY: It’s not broken. It’s unlocked. You’ve unlocked it. And the Curemother is fine; it’s still glowing, you—

RASBACH: Is require more payments.

SOUND: CLUNK. HUM STOPS.

Fixing lock, the tests verification on Curemother… this take money. Then the interest, the damages, the market shifting…

BUDDY: How much?

RASBACH: Should be… twenty million creds.

BUDDY: (AFTER A PAUSE) Well, then.

I think that’s the end of this meeting.

RASBACH: Eh? The end?

BUDDY: There’s no sense in doing business with someone who’s kidding you. Goodbye.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

RASBACH: You will not leave! Here! Here, is her blood filter code on my comms now!

I will deactivate this. This Vespa, she will die!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS STOP.

Ten million creds may come again, but… once dead, is no second chance. This we both know well, Miss Buddy. And if you no stop, Vespa will die.

BUDDY: Razzy. This money isn’t going to your company, is it?

RASBACH: (NERVOUS LAUGH) Wel– uh…

BUDDY: Well. You really do look out for your family, don’t you?

RASBACH: Is no the question, Miss Buddy. The question is: do you?

BUDDY: I don’t have twenty million creds.

RASBACH: Then… your ship. You no live in Cerberus Province, yes? Yet you conduct the theft Curemother. You have spaceship. The deed, you will transfer it to me, plus the code for briefcase.

This the cost final.

BUDDY: Sold.

RASBACH: Eh? R-really? You are certain?

BUDDY: I’m certain. Have you set up the sale or would you like me to do it?

RASBACH: You Solar peoples… I never understand.

JUNO: To be fair, I’m from here too and I don’t get it, either.

RASBACH: I will set up the sale, of course.

SOUND: BEEPS.

Read. Here.

BUDDY: Seems to be in order.

RASBACH: This I no will risk, Miss Buddy.

BUDDY: I can tell.

RASBACH: Now, for code words.

I, Rasbach the Eldest, Agent… uh, I consent to this transaction.

BUDDY: I consent to this transaction.

RASBACH: My thumb.

SOUND: BEEP.

And now… yours.

Miss Buddy, you are no hesitate?

BUDDY: Of course not. Just taking a moment to say farewell to my life savings.

JACKET: Buddy…

JUNO (NARRATOR): But it didn’t matter what the big guy said. Before he could stop her, or she could stop herself, she held out her thumb.

Aaaaaand that’s when all hell broke loose.

SOUND: ALARMS.

RASBACH: Basqueesy!

JUNO: The hell is that?

JACKET: Security alarm. Utgard-Lockhouse brand. There is an intruder on the premises.

RASBACH: No now, no now!

JUNO: What the hell is going on?

RASBACH: Quiet! You think you getting the better of me, Miss Buddy; but I am the one of top control!

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

Das mivi! Ovelisan das mivi, das— (CHOKING)

SOUND: HEAVY BREATHING. CLUNK. THUD.

BUDDY: (PANTING) Well. That was… very satisfying.

JACKET: Would you like me to kill him?

BUDDY: No, no. I wouldn’t want to deny his children a father, and I wouldn’t want to deny myself the splitting headache he’s going to have when he wakes up.

JUNO: Wow, uh, Buddy, you timed this out really well. The alarm, the backup – for, a minute there I thought you really were gonna give away everything you own. That was a hell of a con.

BUDDY: I’d like to correct you on two fronts, Juno, but I’m afraid I’ll have to do it quickly, because we haven’t much time: first, my timing was off by around five seconds, because I really did give away everything I own. And second: this is what we in the business of crime would refer to not as a con, but a worst case scenario.

JUNO: Then… wait, what?

BUDDY: Darling, take the door. You are not to let her leave here. I’ve lost her once, I will not lose her again.

JACKET: Understood.

BUDDY: Juno, take the Curemother’s case and hide yourself and Rasbach. In a moment the lights are going to go out. You must be gone by then.

JUNO: This is… Vespa? Wh-why are you so afraid of her? What’s she gonna do?

BUDDY: Do you remember when I told you Vespa had two specializations? The second was assassinations.

JUNO: What!

BUDDY: We’re fresh out of time, darling. The case!

JUNO (NARRATOR): The lights flickered.

SOUND: BZZZT.

I grabbed the briefcase and grabbed Rasbach, and right as I slid under the desk, they went out for good.

SOUND: POWERING DOWN. SILENCE. DOOR CREAKS OPEN.

BUDDY: Vespa?

It’s me, Vespa. It’s Buddy. And it’s all going to be alright now.

Vespa?

You know what to do.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JACKET: (BIG GRUNT)

SOUND: RUSTLING.

She… is not here.

SOUND: BLADE UNSHEATHING. SWISH, WET THUMP.

JACKET: (PAINED GROAN)

SOUND: THUD.

BUDDY: Vespa! Stop it!

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

VESPA: You stop it. (GRUNTS)

SOUND: BLADE SCHING. RUSTLING.

BUDDY: Vespa! What are you—

VESPA: I said stop it! (GROWLS)

SOUND: RUSTLING. BLADE SCHING.

Your voice, your…! Aghhh! I stopped imagining you, I stopped!

BUDDY: Imagining… you mean—

SOUND: BLADE SCHING.

VESPA: Yahhhh!

BUDDY: Vespa! I am not a hallucination. It’s me, it’s Buddy, and you’re my—

VESPA: Don’t! (GROWLS)

SOUND: THUD.

BUDDY: Oof!

VESPA: (BIG GROWL)

(PANTING) I stopped hearing you. I finally got over you, finally. And now, today, the day I was going to be free… I was done with this. I was done.

BUDDY: (GASPING) Vespa…

VESPA: (GROWLS) You aren’t real! Get out of my head!

SOUND: GRUNTS, FOOTSTEPS, BLADE SCHINGS, RUSTLING.

VESPA: (BIG GROWL)

SOUND: THUD.

BUDDY: (GASPING, CHOKING)

VESPA: Stop it. Stop doing that!

BUDDY: (GASPING) Vespa…

VESPA: (GROWLS)

SOUND: RUBBER STRETCHING.

BUDDY: (CHOKING) V-ves– pa…

JUNO (NARRATOR): And in the dark, all I could do was listen to Buddy Aurinko die at the hands of the woman she loved. The last seconds of a tragedy repeated twice.

I felt like this had always been my problem and I was never going to escape it, just standing and watching while a life gets taken away.

TURBO (ECHOING): The good guys always win!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Nothing different. The same old mistakes. Always.

THEIA: Projection: if you do nothing. She will die.

Would you like me to activate. Nightvision mode?

JUNO (NARRATOR): And there it was. That voice inside my head, telling me that changing was pointless, telling me that you might as well be a puppet to whoever or whatever wants to control you because hell, at least a puppet doesn’t have to think. A puppet just listens to the strings, goes where the pulling takes it, so – just give up. Why not?

THEIA: The target. Is dying.

JUNO (NARRATOR): You can’t change the past.

You can’t even change the present, really, because all you’ve got is that little corner of this moment you happen to have your hands on.

But that corner? Your little part in this great big present? You can pull that any way you want, and maybe it won’t work, but… hell, if you’ve got it, why not pull?

So I ignored the Theia, and I opened up the Curemother, and its weird glowing light spilled out into the room.

SOUND: HISS.

VESPA: What the…

BUDDY: (CHOKING) Vespa… please… (BIG BREATH)

VESPA: Oh!

BUDDY: (GASPING)

VESPA: No! No, no, no, no, no! You’re… you’re gone.

BUDDY: (COUGHING) I was, Vespa. But I’m back.

VESPA: You were gone, gone…

BUDDY: I waited for you. I swear I did.

VESPA: At the lighthouse, for months… but you weren’t… you weren’t…

No… no, this is just what I want to hear. Damn it, V, pull yourself together! This is the day – you’re finally gonna escape and this is the day you crack? Damn it, damn it, damn it! They’re gonna get you, you idiot!

BUDDY: Vespa, I’m here! I’m real. And you’re safe, now. Those awful people don’t have your code anymore, and we have the Curemother. I’ll give you your contract. You’ll be safe.

VESPA: Safe? (BITTER LAUGH) Always gives itself away eventually. Damn radiation. Damn it, damn it!

BUDDY: Vespa…? I couldn’t lose you again.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

VESPA: Just get the Curemother and go, V. Past’s gone. Dead are dead. No getting back fifteen years.

BUDDY: No. I suppose there isn’t, is there?

Juno, slide her the case. Be careful not to lock it.

JUNO: Buddy—

BUDDY: And if you say a second word about it you might not survive to your third.

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: SLIDE.

VESPA: The Curemother.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

BUDDY: (QUIETLY) Vespa…

(CALLING) Vespa… Vespa, if you can hear me in there… I just want you to know that I tried. I did. And I know that time’s passed us, darling, I know, but—

I would like to try this again. Even if those fifteen years are gone, even if we’re new people, you and I, or ghosts, or… I’d like to see how these new people get along. I… just want to try.

SOUND: RUSTLING, CLUNK.

JUNO: Lights out again. Buddy, you alright?

BUDDY: (CALLING) If you want to try with me, I’ll meet you at our spot. Tonight, at sunset. The place I should have met you years ago.

I’m so sorry we lost this time, Vespa; if I could have it back—

SOUND: BZZZT.

JUNO: The lights are back.

BUDDY: …And she’s gone.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

Darling, are you alright?

SOUND: RUSTLING.

JACKET: I am fine. I have been lightly stabbed, but it is not concerning.

JUNO: Oh, is that all?

BUDDY: I think we really ought to leave, now.

JUNO: But… what about your money? A-and your ship?

BUDDY: They’re Rasbach’s, now. We’d need his consent to get them back, and… he’d certainly never give it.

JACKET: Would you like me to—

BUDDY: Kill him? Ha!

No. Killing one of the million middlemen with dreams above their paygrades won’t save a single soul in Cerberus. Let’s leave now. I think I owe you the rest of a story, Juno; and we have somewhere to be by sunset.

JUNO: The lighthouse?

BUDDY: The lighthouse.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

BUDDY: I served eight years in the Balder Central Penitentiary after our heist fell apart, watching the faces of new inmates for her… but she never came. Then I was out. I got my hands on the money I’d saved for myself and bought a ticket back to the Cerberus Province, as promised. And I waited.

JACKET: For two years.

BUDDY: Well, so much for being allowed to keep one’s own secrets.

JACKET: He wouldn’t have believed you if you said it. Two years. And she went up that lighthouse every night for hours, waiting. Then I pulled her out. She was not well.

JUNO: You went up there every day? But that’s… aboveground. There’s no Dome.

JACKET: She was very sick.

JUNO: No… no, wait, hold on. Damn it, can you shut that stupid thing up?

SOUND: THUNK, CLANG. MUSIC CUTS OFF.

Two years? And that much time aboveground? You-you’d have gone nuts by now, right? You’dve lost your damn mind.

BUDDY: Everyone experiences the symptoms of radiation sickness in a slightly different order, darling. Over time one might develop hallucinations, paranoia, memory loss—

SOUND: ICE CUBES CLINKING.

—uncontrollable moods… or conditions a bit more visible.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Then Buddy Aurinko pulled back the hair covering the left side of her face, and I saw what conditions she meant.

From the cheek up, that side of her face looked like a dead body’s. Not just burned, like the woman in the street, or the people wearing those debtor’s tags – more than that. The skin was gaunt, shriveled, and gray. Pieces of it were missing. And in the middle of that ruin sat something like a camera lens, ringed in yellow – and when her other eye blinked, a mechanical shutter clicked across it, sideways.

BUDDY: Organ failure. Skin rot. Hair loss.

JUNO: Yeah, ok-okay, I get the idea.

BUDDY: Bone displacement. Food allergy – that’s all food, of course, not just the one kind.

JUNO: I said I get it!

BUDDY: (CHUCKLES) I was fortunate: the mental effects never had their way with me. And so I lived here for two years, running the lighthouse and getting criminals and Outer Rim refugees as drunk as they liked; and every single night, I would walk up the stairs of this lighthouse with dinner, and wait for my Vespa to come. I knew she wouldn’t. But what else was I going to do? Move on? (SAD LAUGH) Nobody ever moves on because they want to, darling. We move on because we’re forced to – and I only did because he forced me.

JACKET: She didn’t open at the correct time. I became concerned.

BUDDY: You took the door off its hinges.

JACKET: I was deeply concerned.

BUDDY: If he had any sense at all he would have let me die. But, instead, he took me in that car of his and drove me back from the underworld. Some top-notch medical care and a bargain-basement eye later, and I was alive. I felt sorry for myself for another five years; and when I was done with that, I called my old friend here, and offered him a job. I owed him, after all: he sold that car to pay for my eye.

JUNO: Even to afford a low-end eye, that… must’ve been a hell of a car.

JACKET: We will not discuss this.

BUDDY: And that brings us to today, darling. This is the first job of my second career – and I must say I can only hope it’s going to go in the reverse of the first. Start with tragedy, end with… comedy. Ha ha.

JUNO: So that’s how you’re hoping today goes? Comedy?

BUDDY: Given enough time and enough hurt you can laugh at anything, darling. But all things being equal I would rather have the laughter now than later.

JUNO: I just… have one last question.

BUDDY: I’ll trade you. If you answer a question of mine, I’ll answer one of yours.

JUNO: Mine’s really not that important, I’m just curious.

BUDDY: Oh, neither is mine.

JUNO: Fine, then. If—

BUDDY: I’ll ask first. Why?

JUNO: Uh– th– wha— (CLEARS THROAT) Wh-why what?

BUDDY: Why did you decide to stay and help me? You didn’t have to. We barely know each other. Yet today, a former lawman risked his life several times for a former criminal, and for all your whining you even did a good job at it, so. Why?

JUNO: Be-because…

For a few months now I’ve-I-I’ve felt… good. Not l– not, like, good-good, but— (STUTTERS, FRUSTRATED SIGH) Like maybe I was on the right track, I-I guess. An-and then, in that desert, looking back on those months and realizing, damn, I really didn’t help anyone, did I? Maybe I meant to, but— (SIGHS) I just wanted to see if I even could help you. Okay? ‘Cause I— (GROWLS)

BUDDY: Go on.

JUNO: I just wanted to… see if I could. Anymore. Help… people.

BUDDY: Well. That’s quite an answer, isn’t it?

JUNO (NARRATOR): She smiled at me then, like she’d known I’d find the answer all along. And that’s when I knew what kind of leader Buddy Aurinko was.

BUDDY: So? I believe you had a question.

JUNO: Oh. Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s gonna seem pretty dumb now.

BUDDY: I’m sure it won’t.

JUNO: Okay. Uh…

If you’re allergic to all food, what do you eat?

BUDDY: (AFTER A PAUSE) You’re right, darling. That was a dumb question.

JUNO: Yeah, I mean, I told you.

BUDDY: I think I like you, Juno. I think you’ve grown on me.

SOUND: ICE CUBES CLINKING. CLUNK.

I’m going to wait upstairs now. Help yourself to… whatever you’d like.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: Uhh…

JACKET: She means the top of the lighthouse.

JUNO: No, I get that, I mean… (QUIETLY) What does she eat?

JACKET: I think I will wait with her.

JUNO: Outside?

(CALLING) You and I both got stabbed today, you moron! You wanna get marinated in radiation on top of that? (GROWLS)

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

***

MUSIC: STARTS.

JACKET: The sun has begun to set.

JUNO: Yup.

JACKET: It is very beautiful.

JUNO: So are most things that want to kill you.

JACKET: This has not been my experience.

JUNO: (CALLING) Hey, Buddy? We almost done here? I can feel myself getting sicker.

BUDDY: (DISTANT) You’re free to leave anytime you like.

JUNO: It’s sundown. She’s not coming.

BUDDY: (DISTANT) Maybe you’re right.

JUNO: So, you gonna do anything about it?

Buddy?

JACKET: She is ignoring you.

JUNO: Shut up.

JACKET: Alright.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So we waited, and the sun kept setting.

Sunset was… really something, out here. The Domes have a blue tint – small enough that you stop seeing it, after a while, but – out here, unblocked and unblued, the sunset was wild. Alive. Like someone set fire to the sky.

And Buddy had been up here for two years, staring down that sunset. Killing herself, slowly, in the hopes that it’d bring her the only thing she’d ever really wanted.

JACKET: The sun is almost down.

You are shivering.

JUNO: Yeah, well.

JACKET: There are coats downstairs.

JUNO: (CALLING) This is pointless, Buddy! She didn’t even hear you!

God, you really have one of those music machine things up here too? Does anybody even go up here?

JACKET: Would you like me to turn it off?

JUNO: Didn’t say that.

JACKET: Hm.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So we waited, and the sun kept setting.

I-I mean, it was a pretty thought, wasn’t it? That the past could really leap back into your arms, have your love back… have your brother back.

But it was just a fantasy – and soon the sun had set, we were in the dark with nothing but soft-boiled brains to show for all our dreaming.

JACKET: The sun has set.

JUNO: I can see that, thanks.

(CALLING) Alright, Bud, show’s over, time to go home. You and I only got one eye apiece and neither one of us can afford to lose—

SOUND: LOUD POWERING UP. POP.

MUSIC: CHANGES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The lighthouse lights came on, and… there they were. Buddy and Vespa. Vespa and Buddy.

Seeing ‘em together like this, I saw just a glimmer of who they used to be, and… there was something huge about ‘em. Something bigger than life, bigger than people, bigger than all the years they’d been apart.

Then the lights mellowed a little. And they were just two women who barely knew each other again, and the feet between them could’ve been miles.

BUDDY: Vespa… you’re really here.

VESPA: Buddy… it’s really you.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. SOFT SIGHS.

BUDDY: Vespa, I’m not assuming… a kiss, it doesn’t have to mean anything, darling. We’re just going to try this, see if it works, and—

VESPA: Oh, save it, Bud.

SOUND: THEY KISS.

JACKET: Well. A happy ending.

JUNO: (SNIFFS) Yeah.

JACKET: I think it is time for us to leave, now. They have much to catch up on.

Are you crying, Juno?

JUNO: (SNIFFS) Shut up. You’re crying.

Let’s go. Whatever.

JACKET: Indeed. You are owed payment for your services. We’ll leave tonight.

JUNO: Sure. Tonight. Fine.

BUDDY & VESPA: (DISTANT, UNINTELLIGIBLE)

JUNO: Stupid music machine. Oughta be a law.

JACKET: Would you like me to turn it off before we leave?

JUNO: No, just… let it play.

Let it play.

BUDDY: (DISTANT) Darling. You wouldn’t be hungry, would you? I know a wonderful place around the corner…

(LAUGHS)

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Sarah Gazdowicz, William Schuller, Chloe Cunha, and co-creator Kevin Vibert:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

WILLIAM: Sometimes you gotta take time out, and, figure out what the noun endings for basqueezy are.

KEVIN & SARAH: (LAUGH)

WILLIAM: And that-that’s just where you’re– where you’re at as a writer. (LAUGHS)

KEVIN: (LAUGHS) Um… yeah, I mean I know that, uh, from, from, the… from the writing perspective, uh, I really based a lot of their, like, mannerisms, a lot of the, uh, like, little side things, the patterns of their language, on a lot of my extended, uh, French family. Um, which is why you’ve got, which is why you’ve got Rasbach’s top everything…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Camille Blanton, Ota Arcana, Juno Yanto, Regan, Ko, KC, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, and Jaimie Gunter for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Time Gone By, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Alexander Stravinski as the Man in the Brown Jacket, Sarah Gazdowicz as Buddy Aurinko, William Schuller as Rasbach, and Chloe Cunha as Vespa.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE TIME GONE BY (PART ONE)

SOUND: WIND BLOWING. FOOTSTEPS.

THEIA: Caution: radiation detected at. Fatal levels. Turn back. Turn back.

User safety tip: this is. A very bad idea. Suggestion: activate Theia Global Map. To search for shelter.

Caution: I cannot act without user permissions. User permissions are needed. Awaiting user permissions.

JUNO: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: PUNCH.

THEIA: You appear. To be punching your own face. Would you like. Some help with that?

JUNO: Just… shut up… (SIGHS)

SOUND: RUSTLING, THUMP.

THEIA: For your safety. I do not recommend. You lie down. In this location.

THEIA: Reporting potential threats active as of last user scan. Threat one: a massive sandstorm. Threat two: fatal radiation. Threat three: this area of the desert is recognized by the Martian Wildlife Foundation as a protected breeding ground for. Peepers.

JUNO: I said shut up!

SOUND: CHIRPS.

THEIA: Playing previously-downloaded information on peepers.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

THEIA: Native only to the northern deserts of Mars, peepers went uncaptured and unresearched for several centuries after their discovery.

SOUND: MORE CHRIPS.

Above ground, peepers resemble colonies of small, tunneling creatures. Which pop into and out of the ground and make a noise not unlike Earth’s groundhogs or meerkats.

SOUND: MORE CHRIPS.

Researchers assumed these creatures to be individual organisms until three hundred years ago. When the first peeper was successfully brought into captivity. And those small rodent-like structures were discovered to be the sensory organs of a much larger subterranean predator.

SOUND: CRUMBLING, DEEP ROAR.

JUNO: Enh, took you long enough.

SOUND: ROAR, BLASTER SHOT, SQUEAL. QUICK FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING. WIND BLOWING, FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

VOICE 1: Hey. Hey, you.

JUNO: Go away, I’m busy.

VOICE 1: Hmph.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

JUNO: Hey– hey, what the hell are you doing? Put me down, you– what the hell? I-I know you.

VOICE 1: A correction: I know you. I have been told it is important to speak accurately when beginning a business transaction.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Brown jacket; tough skin, broad shoulders; dark, hard eyes that looked like they’d draw blood if you got too close. This guy had been stalking me since what felt like a lifetime ago, back in Hyperion – and if I’d been scared of him then, seeing him up close only made it clearer how easily those big, scarred hands could snap my neck.

My name’s Juno Steel. And I’m… (SIGHS) just a guy who wanders into near-certain death in the desert and then gives the glad eye to his probable killer.

Y’know, saying that out loud, a lot of criticisms I’ve taken over the years suddenly make a lot more sense.

VOICE 1 [BROWN JACKET]: My hovercycle’s radiation shield is only active when the engine is running. Which means I’m going to go now, and you’re going to come with me.

JUNO: You were watching me… before the museum, and b– and before the subway, you were watch—

No. No, look, I’m done. If you want to spy on me that’s fine, but I don’t care. I’m doin’ this on my own.

JACKET: Dying?

JUNO: That’s… not necessarily the plan, but if that’s the last move I can make solo, then sure, that.

JACKET: (AFTER A PAUSE) He’ll find you, you know.

JUNO: What?

JACKET: The one who gave you that eye. Have you activated it recently?

JUNO: Not for a few hours, but—

JACKET: Then he has your location. He will find you – and whatever’s left of your mind, once the radiation’s done with it.

Unless you come with me.

JUNO: Yeah? Why should I?

JACKET: I know how to remove that cyber-eye from your head. I know how to set you free.

You can get in the sidecar when you’re ready.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: (GROWLS)

JACKET: Good. Be sure to strap in.

JUNO: Not until you tell me where we’re going.

SOUND: RUSTLING.

Of course! Another man of mystery. Listen, I’ve really had enough of these, so if you can’t even tell me where we’re going I’ll– oof!

SOUND: THUD.

JACKET: I’ll tell you. I was just looking for a helmet in your size.

JUNO: What the… how many helmets do you keep in this bag?

JACKET: Bike safety is important.

SOUND: ZIP.

We’re going to see someone about a job.

JUNO: Very specific, thanks. (HUFFS) Where?

JACKET: Where all of the most important jobs on Mars happen. The Cerberus Province.

SOUND: WHOOSH. ENGINE STARTS.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): To be honest, I still wasn’t convinced my mind hadn’t gotten roasted. They say after one hour uncovered from the radioactive sun you start hallucinating, and after five it’s time to say bye-bye to a good chunk of your brain. I’d been out there… well, somewhere between those two options. My watch said it had only been ninety minutes, but on the other hand I wasn’t wearing a watch.

JACKET: So. Do you have a good reason for walking out in the desert? Besides your death wish.

JUNO: Besides my what?

JACKET: It’s well-documented.

JUNO: Documented where?

How long have you been watching me? Is that how you found me out here?

Hello?

JACKET: Hello.

JUNO: (SLOWLY) How long have you been—

JACKET: We are almost at the Cerberus Province. Buddy will answer your questions when you speak with her. If this job is not to your liking, well… back into the desert with you, and you die a free man.

JUNO (NARRATOR): So it was out of the frying pan, into the biggest hideout of thieves and murderers and outlaws in the solar system, I guess.

(SIGHS) We saw the volcanoes first. A ring of ‘em, dusty and dormant. And then, at the center of that ring…

JACKET: The lighthouse.

JUNO: What?

JACKET: The lighthouse activates at night, to guide ships to the spaceport beneath it. I hear before it was installed more ships landed inside volcanoes than was acceptable.

JUNO: So, like… one ship?

THEIA: Would you like to research the number of ships—

JUNO: (MUTTERING) Shut up.

JACKET: I will not. Are you done throwing up, now? It cannot be helping your radiation sickness to stay out here.

JUNO: I think—

JACKET: And if you vomit on my hovercycle I cannot be held responsible for what happens to you next.

JUNO: (SPITS) I think I’m good.

JACKET: Get on, then.

MUSIC: ENDS.

SOUND: WHOOSH. ENGINE RUMBLES.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The lighthouse was huge; an intricate crossing of plates and pipes that looked like somebody had spun a spiderweb from gold, then grabbed its center and pulled it up to scratch the clouds. It was even beautiful, for a minute. Then I wondered if you could see the Piranha’s body from up there, and it just made me feel sick.

The lighthouse wasn’t what I expected from the myths about some ramshackle pirate hideout hidden underneath the desert. According to the stories, the Cerberus Province was more meeting place than city – a non-stop crime convention to trade business cards and thermonuclear weaponry. It didn’t have a Dome, after all. Living there long-term would’ve been suicide.

But the lighthouse didn’t line up with the stories. Neither did the Cerberus Province itself, once we slipped underground to see it.

JUNO: What the hell are all those?

JACKET: Do you mean the buildings, or the tents?

JUNO: I-I don’t know, both?

JACKET: Well. Some are buildings, and some are tents.

JUNO: I-I know that! I mea—

Look, that lady’s drying sheets on a balcony. That’s a grocery stand in a brick house. That guy’s taking his clothes out of a laundromat!

JACKET: It is very dusty on Mars.

JUNO: Wh-why do they live down here? Nobody lives down here. Nobody.

JACKET: Not by choice. When we land it is imperative that you stay close to me and not look too long at anyone else’s property.

SOUND: ENGINE STOPS. CROWD NOISE, MUSIC FADES IN.

JUNO (NARRATOR): When he was done parking we walked out into the street. The buildings and tents I’d seen from above were thick here, people packed elbow to elbow, vendors shouting into the streets.

CROWD VOICES (IN BACKGROUND): Peepers! Getcha pickled peepers over here! Plutonian candy! Delicious Plutonian candy, Plutonium extra!

JUNO (NARRATOR): You get so lost in a place like that you forget you’re part of it, until it reaches out and grabs you.

VOICE 2: Please.

JUNO: Ah!

VOICE 2: Please, you will help me. You will help me. The teecket they give me, the teecket, it is false!

JUNO: Uh-uh, ticket? I-I-I don’t—

VOICE 2: I have moneys. On Susano-o I am doctor, do you know this place? Bank account, years, interest thirty, I have… I have… Please, please, Tammono, you will help me, you will help me!

JUNO (NARRATOR): The woman was wearing a mask, but I’d knocked it crooked in my surprise, and… underneath…

Her skin, it… (SIGHS) God, it looked so painful. Big plates of cracking charcoal crust on a plane of soft, raw, red and gray. She looked burned, or… melting, or both. Long-term radiation damage. The kind of stuff they showed us in old academy videos and promised we’d never actually see. Th-that you’d have to be crazy to stay outside a Dome long enough to get it.

All of a sudden I noticed there were people all over the street wearing masks like that, people by the dozens that must’ve been covered in those burns, and if that many people needed those masks, maybe crazy wasn’t the problem.

Then Brown Jacket grabbed me by the shoulder and kept me moving.

JACKET: Juno. We have to leave now.

VOICE 2: Moneys I have, sir! Please, your vehicle, your vehicle!

JUNO: …What?

JACKET: I told you not to look too long at anyone else’s property.

JUNO: P-property?

JACKET: That bulge beneath that woman’s sleeve? A blood filtration bracelet – what some call a debtor’s tag. She is serving an indentured servitude to pay for her healthcare. If you attempt to do as she says, her treatment will end, and she will die.

JUNO: But… you’re just gonna let that—

JACKET: I have no choice. That woman is finished. She took an illegal ride to the Solar planets, became ill, and sold herself to live a few years longer. It is a common mistake.

JUNO: But her skin… how long has she been paying?

JACKET: I have seen similar surface-level symptoms manifest within two years.

JUNO: Surface-level. Yeah, sure, that sounds great.

JACKET: Not five hours ago getting too involved in a city’s politics nearly killed you. Do you really want to make the same mistake so soon?

JUNO: I…

No. No, I guess not.

JACKET: Good.

Now please. Get in this dumpster.

JUNO: What?

JACKET: I’m afraid I must insist.

JUNO: H-hey, put me down—

SOUND: THUD. PLASTIC RUSTLING, BOTTLES CLINKING.

Ah! What the hell was that for?!

JACKET: Have you used any of your eye’s special functions since we entered the Cerberus Province?

JUNO: What? I ha– I haven’t—

JACKET: In the interest of fairness, I should tell you that if you have, I will be forced to crush your head with this dumpster lid.

JUNO: How is that any fairer— whoa, whoa, whoa, there! No, I-I haven’t used it. You said that’s how Ramses is gonna track me, right?

JACKET: That is good. And yet we are being followed.

JUNO: What?

JACKET: Quiet. Listen. There is a figure behind me, slight, wearing a black hood. Do you see their face?

JUNO: No, it’s… covered by a scarf. They could’ve just come in from outside. They’ve got sand all over—

JACKET: Their clothes have sand – but not their boots. It’s a disguise. We may have to relocate our meeting.

I am going to step into this shop and buy a large decaffeinated Jovian tea with two sugars. You will stay here and watch to see what they do.

JUNO: Wait, is th– is the tea some kind of code? What does it mean?

JACKET: It means I am thirsty. It is large because I am very thirsty, and decaffeinated because I have a predisposition to addictive—

JUNO: Okay, yeah, I get it. Just go get your stupid tea, I’ll watch the road.

JACKET: Thank you.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I had to hand it to Brown Jacket: he was right. As soon as we stopped moving our hooded tagalong stopped, too.

SOUND: BELL JINGLES.

She sat at a roadside stand and looked over the menu, flipping pages too quickly to read ‘em. I knew a tail when I saw one.

Jacket came back out a minute later sucking down something that smelled like gasoline with two sugars.

SOUND: BELL JINGLES. FOOTSTEPS.

JACKET: The deed is done.

JUNO: What deed?

SOUND: SMALL EXPLOSION.

CROWD VOICES: (YELLS) Sintoloo ga voo?! The hell?

VOICE 3: Baweebis! Baweebis!

VOICE 4: What the hell are they trying to say?

VOICE 5: They’re saying hood, hood! I think they saw whoever planted the bomb!

VOICE 3: Gawoosh! Baweebis, baweebis!

VOICE 4: Is that them? Is that the low-life that blew up my store?

VOICE 3: Baweeeeeeeeeeebis!

VOICE 4: Outer Rim bum! Learn to talk right!

Hey, she’s getting away! Get her!

JUNO: …Wow.

Did you pay them to say that?

JACKET: No. I paid the other customer to translate anything they said as ‘hood.’

JUNO: But if this place has so many people from the Outer Rim—

JACKET: There are too many languages spoken on the Outer Rim to keep up with. We have large communities from Balder. Yama.

JUNO: Susano-o.

JACKET: Indeed. And besides: they lost. Now take these.

SOUND: KEYS JINGLING.

JUNO: Keys?

JACKET: When the commotion settles, you will remove yourself from the garbage, go down this alley, and take your second left. You will look for the analog lock that matches this key, and you will wait for me there – at the lighthouse.

JUNO: The lighthouse? Really? You have the key to that big tower—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

Hey! Hey, where the hell are you goin’?

JACKET: (FADING) To ensure the area is secure. Now be silent. Dumpsters cannot speak in the Cerberus Province.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I did what the big guy told me to do. Waited a few minutes for the dust to settle, and when I was pretty sure nobody was watching me I went down the alley.

The lighthouse was on the edge of town, and the closer I got the more radiation-ravaged the place looked. But there were no warning signs, no public health notices, just an advertisement:

VOICE 6 (FROM SPEAKER): Feeling itchy? Hearing things? Gamma rays got you down? Visit the Cerberus Board of Fresh Starts for your Blood Filtration Bracelet today! No down payment required!

JUNO (NARRATOR): The, uh… lighthouse came soon after.

SOUND: KEYS JINGLE. DOOR CREAKS.

The inside was a bar: dark wood, plush cushions. Even the dust looked nice, which was good, because there was a hell of a lot of it. I helped myself to an unmarked, extremely potent-looking bottle behind the bar and took a seat to examine it more closely with my eyes, mouth, and liver.

JUNO: Here’s lookin’ at you, lighthouse. Seems like both of us are back from the grave.

SOUND: ICE CUBES CLINK.

VOICE 7: If you keep stealing my wares, darling—

JUNO: (CHOKES)

VOICE 7: —I’ll return you to that grave myself.

SOUND: CLUNK.

That’s ten thousand creds of fine liquor you’ve just spilled. A life like yours, I’d think you’d be a little more careful about putting yourself into debt with a stranger.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: (CHOKING) Who the hell are you?

VOICE 7: The person you’re here to meet. Now go get yourself a drink. I’ll be taking this one.

JUNO: Hey, that was mine—

VOICE 7: And now it isn’t.

SOUND: ICE CUBES CLINKING.

It’s nothing personal, darling; I just have a natural tendency towards envy and I’ve always believed in doing what feels natural. Like now, for example: it feels natural for me to say I’ll pay you the ten thousand creds you owe me if you shut up and get yourself a drink.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The woman who’d just taken my drink was a bombshell. By which I mean she looked extremely dangerous and made a hell of an entrance. She had big plumes of flame-red hair trailing over her neck and half her face, and a dress so avant-garde I would’ve believed her if she said she got it next year. The first thing she did when she sat down was put a blaster on the table in front of her and, in the process, reveal she had another one, two knives, and what looked like a grenade strapped to her leg.

She looked ready for a war. Hell, she looked ready to fight on both sides.

SOUND: BOTTLE UNCORKS.

JUNO: So you’re the big guy’s buddy?

SOUND: CLUNK. LIQUID POURING.

VOICE 7: That’s what he called me? His buddy?

JUNO: I’m sure he’ll be disappointed to hear you disagree.

SOUND: CLUNK.

VOICE 7: I don’t. It’s just funny of him. Fine, you can call me the same. Buddy.

JUNO: Seems a little early for that.

VOICE 7 [BUDDY]: I’m friendly.

JUNO: And him?

BUDDY: He’s not interested.

JUNO: No, I mean, what’s his—

BUDDY: Besides, we aren’t here to talk about him; we’re here to talk about you. Juno Steel: ex-cop, ex-patsy for Ramses O’Flaherty, currently extremely unemployed and not taking it very well. You’ve got an eye problem, and I don’t mean like glaucoma. You’ve just spent a few months being someone else’s stooge – or thirty-eight years, depending on how you count it – and you’re just about ready to stooge stag. That’s where we come in.

What’s the matter? Did I get any of that wrong?

JUNO: No. That’s what’s the matter.

BUDDY: Oh, I’m sorry. Why don’t you pour us both a drink and I’ll try not to upset you so much, darling? What’s the danger in just… sitting and listening?

JUNO: No, you know what? I’m tired of listening. It’s someone else’s turn to listen. Got it? The second it looks like you’re trying to get me to do something I don’t like, I’m walking out into the desert with a beach towel and no sunscreen. The second. ‘Cause I am not trading one smooth psychopath for another, you got me, I am not—

BUDDY: I hear you. I’m stubborn, not deaf. Sit.

SOUND: CREAK.

JUNO: Hmph.

BUDDY: There. Doesn’t this feel so much more civilized?

JUNO: Gotta say, Buddy, I kinda walked into the desert to get away from civilized.

BUDDY: I know. And that was a very big move. Made me act faster than I planned to, but… you got lucky, and a position opened up a little earlier than expected.

JUNO: Position? That’s why you’ve been watching me.

BUDDY: Gainful employment. A lot to gain, too.

JUNO: I’m not walkin’ into any more bad contracts or big debts.

BUDDY: And you don’t have to. Like I said, I always keep my business partners happy, Juno. And unlike your two-bit former employer over at the Vixen Valley, I know that doesn’t come by force. Father always said, there are only two ways to keep the chickens in the coop: either build a big wall, or make them never want to leave.

JUNO: Didn’t think there were many farmers on Mars.

BUDDY: He was a prison warden, actually. Incredibly popular with his inmates. A bit less popular with Dark Matters.

JUNO: Rest in peace.

BUDDY: Yes, I would assume the rest of him is in one piece, but we never found it. Regardless, Juno, my point: scouting the talent I want is something I take very seriously, and you are only one name on a very, very long list. If you do not want this job, don’t waste my time. The only reason you’re here now is because I need three people, my third missed his flight to Mars, and you happened to be available.

JUNO: Wow, you sure do know how to make a lady feel special.

BUDDY: I know how to make a special lady feel special. Maybe if you’re very good that’ll be you.

Now, a toast. To a new, and brighter, future—no, no. (CHUCKLES) I’m guessing we’ve both had entirely too much of that. To… letting go. Moving on.

JUNO: Sure. To moving on.

SOUND: GLASS CLINKS.

BUDDY: Hm.

Now.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

The job.

MUSIC: CHANGES.

As I think you’ve already gathered, our work isn’t exactly on the spotless side of the law. My friend and I work in the craft of what we call “relocation services.”

JUNO: Which I’m guessing means you relocate other people’s things to your pockets.

BUDDY: My, you are quick. They aren’t always things, but… spot-on.

JUNO: So is that what you need me for, some kind of heist? ‘Cause I—

BUDDY: No, no, the heist has been finished for weeks. It’s the sale, darling. We need you to help us with the sale.

JUNO: You… want me to work the cash register on your black market deal?

JACKET: The sale is the most dangerous part of any job in the Cerberus Province.

JUNO: Ah! Where the hell did you come from?!

JACKET: The door.

BUDDY: Do try and focus, Juno. Yes, the sale. This town is crawling with undercover law enforcement and people who expect you to do your work for free but don’t feel like telling you ahead of time, and neither sits particularly well with me. So, we’re going to make certain we get paid, or else we're not handing over anything.

JUNO: Yeah, okay. And speaking of which, what are we selling?

BUDDY: The sale’s in three hours, in this bar. We’ve agreed to meet somewhere public, which means within the next three hours we’ll have to make this place public. We’re opening it for business.

JUNO: We’re– wait. You own the lighthouse?

BUDDY: Just the first floor. I couldn’t sell it if I wanted to, honestly; too much radiation leaks in through the roof for anyone to want it. At any rate, once we open, my big friend is going to work the bar; you’re going to play sad drunk at one of those tables by the door.

JACKET: You will be drinking carbonated tea. Focus will be crucial.

JUNO: Sounds like a fun party.

BUDDY: While the buyer and I make the exchange, you will watch the crowd and contact me on covert comms if you notice anyone acting strangely. We take no chances here, do you understand? This is too important.

JUNO: Okay, but what are we sell—

BUDDY: Hopefully it all goes off without a hitch and you get paid for sitting around and enjoying some tea. Then we’ll show you how to remove that eye, and you can decide whether this kind of work interests you.

JUNO: I feel like I could answer that question a lot faster for you if I knew what we were selling.

BUDDY: There’s no need to get snippy, Juno. You only needed to ask. Show him.

SOUND: CLUNK.

We will be selling this briefcase.

JUNO: And… what’s inside the briefcase?

BUDDY: Oh, that’s none of your concern.

JUNO: Well, if I wasn’t concerned before, I sure as hell am now! Listen, I told you, if you make me do anything—

SOUND: THUD. GLASS CLINKS.

JACKET: You listen.

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

MUSIC: STOPS.

BUDDY: Thank you. I understand the word of an outlaw probably doesn’t mean much to you, Juno – but it will mean even less if you don’t let me finish a sentence.

JUNO: Hmph.

BUDDY: You can’t have it both ways. You can’t both know everything and live a life just for yourself. You understand that, don’t you?

SOUND: MECHANICAL WHIR.

MUSIC: STARTS.

If you aren’t sure you want to stay here? Then don’t stay. Don’t get involved. That’s how Hyperion hurt you, isn’t it? I don’t think that’s your fault, of course. That’s just what cities do. Once you get attached to somewhere or someone… you can’t break apart without leaving some of yourself behind.

JUNO: The hell is that sappy music coming from, anyways? It’s driving me nuts.

BUDDY: What mu– oh, that. Darling, would you?

JACKET: (GRUNTS)

SOUND: THUNK. MECHANICAL WHIR.

MUSIC: STOPS.

BUDDY: Thank you. Semi-Autonomous Music Machines. They’re all over the province and they all act like this. You’ll tune them out eventually.

JUNO: A-alright, so. You want me to watch the door while you make your trade-off. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious—

JACKET: Don’t use your eye.

JUNO: Yeah, thanks, I got that. Anything else?

BUDDY: Just one thing. Give him his weapon.

SOUND: CLANK.

JUNO: There’s… no stun on this.

JACKET: Laserproof vests are too common in these jobs. That will punch through them.

JUNO: So you just want me to kill someone? Just ‘cause you say so?

BUDDY: I assure you that if anything goes wrong, he’ll deserve it.

JUNO: But—

BUDDY: Then don’t. Use your last few hours of freedom and walk to an early death in the desert, based on the fear that something might go wrong, you might have to shoot, and the shot you fire might kill them. But those seem like silly odds to throw your life away on.

My business and my past are my concerns, Juno. Just do the job, and don’t get involved. Then, you go and do whatever it is you want to.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Don’t get involved.

I kept repeating that to myself for the next three hours, as we cleaned the place up and opened the doors and let the crowd filter in. The gun was heavy in my pocket. I wished I’d taken my blaster off the Piranha, but it was too late. She was gone. The whole life I’d known her in was gone.

And meanwhile, in this life, the sale was just a few minutes away. I sat at my table by the door and watched the crowd mob the bar, the big guy toss drinks, and Buddy schmooze like she knew everyone here personally.

SOUND: CROWD CHATTER IN BACKGROUND.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): I’ve just received confirmation that he’ll be here shortly. Anything strange on either of your ends?

JUNO: Uh, yea– yeah, now that you mention it, I’ve been meaning to have a dermatologist take a—

JACKET (FROM COMMS): Do not complete this joke, Juno, or you will regret it.

JUNO: Oookay.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): There is nothing over here.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Juno?

JUNO (NARRATOR): I listened in to the crowd around me, all the faces and costumes of crime, and I didn’t hear anything weird about them – but plenty about Buddy.

CROWD VOICES: (OVERLAPPING) Buddy’s back! Buddy, sha, Buddy! The Lighthouse, open again! Has anyone seen Buddy? She was always the talk of the town, I hear… Buddy Aurinko, after all this time!

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Juno?

JUNO: (QUIETLY) Buddy Aurinko…? (NORMAL VOLUME) Hang on, is your name actually Buddy?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): That’s what I told you to call me, isn’t it?

JUNO: So, what, is his name actually The Big Guy?

JACKET (FROM COMMS): That would be absurd.

JUNO: Then what is it?

JACKET (FROM COMMS): We are not there yet.

JUNO: We’re not at names?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Quiet, you two! He’s just come in the door! Do you see him, Juno?

JUNO: Uh, little guy, gray monosuit, kinda looks like he’s allergic to light?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): That’s the one.

JUNO: Doesn’t look like a crime boss. Too nervous.

JACKET (FROM COMMS): Not a good sign.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Experience suggests that that might just be his face, actually.

VOICE 8 (FROM COMMS): Eh… what was that?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Ah, there you are, Mister Rasbach. It’s been too long.

VOICE 8 [RASBACH] (FROM COMMS): We… spoke yesterday, I think?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Yes, but you are late, and that does mean it’s been too long, doesn’t it?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): (NERVOUS LAUGH) Ah, I- uh, I see. You must excuse me, Miss Buddy, both my tardiness and my uncomprehending. Solar is not my… language initial.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): I’m only razzing you, Razzy. You manage much better here than I would on Balder, I’m sure. Please, sit. Would you like a drink? Two drinks? You’ll have to forgive me for trying to upsell you, but, a small business owner has to keep her claws sharp.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): It… does not appear you starve of the business. Yesterday this bar was not even in operation, and today—

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): I’ve been away a long time, and I’m impatient. Surely you know how that is. I imagine you must miss Balder terribly.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Is so… is so. (NERVOUS LAUGH) And yet, there are the creds to be made in these planets Solar, yes? A business top profitable. Do you know how it is to support a family, Miss Buddy?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): I pick my own family, Raz, and the first thing I make sure of is that they can support themselves.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Perhaps is so, here, but on the Outer Rim, after the War? This is not always possible. My planetmen, they desperate, eh? They take the first ship from Balder they can find, they swallow the poisoning radiation, they need the healthcare to live. And so we give them this support… for the price. We support them, them support we – is cycle top beautiful, I think.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Do you mind if we get on with this? I have customers to attend to.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Of course.

(CLEARS THROAT) Shall we… ah, show the wares?

JACKET (FROM COMMS): Watch the crowd, Juno. This is the moment.

SOUND: CLICK, HISS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I wanted to see what the hell was in that briefcase, but… I tried to remember what Buddy told me. It was none of my business. Don’t get involved.

So instead I scanned the crowd. And that’s when I saw her come in through the back door.

JUNO: Big guy, our friend with the hood from earlier just showed up. Didn’t you say you lost her?

JACKET (FROM COMMS): What is she doing?

JUNO: Nothin’ yet.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): This is really… the Curemother. You have it!

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Now. You pay me, you take this, and your group makes just oodles and oodles of money for you to send back to all the little orphans and victims and puppy-dogs on Balder, or whatever your story is today. Do you even have children, Razzy, or is it all just a story?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Does it affect our business, whether or not ‘tis so?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): I suppose not.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Hm. Now, the transaction. We will be using my comms, as agreed.

SOUND: BEEPS.

Security transactional set to the audio, then the fingerprint.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Are we ready?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): You read the bill of sale first, yes? Ensure is no confusion.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Alright…

JUNO: You see her, Buddy?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): (UNDER HER BREATH) Ah, yes. Over by the music machine, not moving.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ah, u-uh– what?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Oh, forgive me, Razzy. A Solar colloquialism: if something is ‘by the machine and not moving,’ that means it’s straightforward. The money is to be transferred directly from your account to mine, and the key to the Curemother’s briefcase from my account to yours.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Ah. I-I have not heard this expression before.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): And you never will again. I, Buddy Aurinko, consent to this transaction. And the fingerprint…

SOUND: BEEP.

Your turn.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): A-ah, thank you.

JUNO: She’s moving. Buddy, you’ve got someone coming right at you!

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): I, Rasbach the Eldest, Agent Acquisitional of the Cerberus Board of Fresh Starts—

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): What’s your game, Rasbach?

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): My name? Miss Buddy, I was just saying…

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Finish it, then. Quickly.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): I conzent to this transaction.

SOUND: BEEP.

There. Is done.

JUNO: He did it? Wait, really?

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): It appears so, yes.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Well. The business well done.

JUNO: Buddy, look out! She’s right on top of you!

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Well, Miss Buddy. It has been a plea— (CHOKING)

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Rasbach!

JUNO (NARRATOR): The hooded woman ran up behind Rasbach and without a sound a knife appeared in her hand. Then it disappeared again… into Rasbach’s back.

RASBACH (FROM COMMS): Who… who?

VOICE 9 (FROM COMMS): (GROWLS)

SOUND: THUNK.

You! Give me the briefcase.

JUNO: Stall her. We’re on our way.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): Stay where you are, the both of you.

You don’t have the key to this. What do you plan to do? Break it open?

VOICE 9 (FROM COMMS): If you’re real, just give it. If not… get out!

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): You could damage what’s inside if you do, and then what use will it be? You– sound familiar. Do I know you?

VOICE 9 (FROM COMMS): I said get out! (GROWLS)

SOUND: METAL CLANGS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Then they were really at it. Hood took quick jabs, lots of ‘em, but Buddy was quick too, working that briefcase like a shield too precious for her attacker to stab. It was a good defense, but Buddy’s back was almost to the wall, and it wasn’t gonna be good much longer.

So Buddy raised her gun to turn the tide, but, with her focus split for just that half-second, Hood slashed at her fingers with the knife. Some people would’ve kept the briefcase instead of their hand, I thought. But Buddy wasn’t one of ‘em. She let go, and Hood had it before it hit the ground.

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): She has the briefcase, but I can’t get a clear shot with all these people!

JACKET (FROM COMMS): She’s running towards you, Juno. You know what to do.

JUNO (NARRATOR): My stomach and shooting-hand hardened. Still the same old Juno Steel, I thought. The Proctor, Swift, Pollock, Pilot, the Piranha – someone says shoot, and I say who’s next?

The thought made me sick. I was tired. I was just so, so tired of making the same old mistakes, again and again.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

VOICE 9: Get out of my way!

JUNO (NARRATOR): So I made a new one instead.

VOICE 9: Move!

JUNO: No!

JUNO & VOICE 9: (GRUNTS)

BUDDY (FROM COMMS): What do you think you’re doing, Juno? Do you want her to stab you?

SOUND: BLADE CLANG.

JUNO: (PAINED) Too late.

VOICE 9: Move or I’ll kill you.

JUNO: Lady, if you knew the kinda week I’ve had you’d understand why that doesn’t scare me much.

SOUND: LOUD BLASTER SHOT. CROWD SCREAMS, RUNS OUT.

JACKET: This is an emergency situation. All customers must leave immediately.

SOUND: CLATTERING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The diversion was just enough to distract her for a second, so I tried to take a swing at her. She was too fast for me and my fingers missed her face but grabbed her scarf, and she… did not like that.

VOICE 9: (HOWLS)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I could see why she’d covered herself, because she had a look too memorable for covert ops: bright green hair and bright, wild eyes. But, I didn’t know her.

Buddy did, though.

BUDDY: Vespa?!

JUNO (NARRATOR): Green hair looked back, panicked, her eyes darting. She pulled so hard her sleeve came up and I saw what was on her wrist.

A debtor’s tag, for indentured servants. Just like that Outer Rim woman in the market. And hers had something written on it: Vespa I., five.

Vespa was in a cold sweat. She looked like she was gonna be sick.

VOICE 9 [VESPA]: Not… real… you’re not… real!

BUDDY: Vespa, it’s you! I thought you were—

VESPA: You’re not real! Get out of my head! (FERAL GROWL)

JUNO: (PAINED GRUNT)

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

BUDDY: Vespa! Come back!

JACKET: Buddy… she’s gone.

BUDDY: She can’t be gone. I saw her, I swear, I saw her!

JUNO: You’re gonna need to slow down a little for the murder victim by the door, Buddy. Who the hell is Vespa?

BUDDY: She’s… a dead woman. I saw her… die. But now she’s—

Vespa! Vespa?!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS DEPARTING.

JUNO: Should we follow them?

JACKET: That depends. Are you injured enough that running will cause your organs to fall out of your body?

JUNO: Uh, not that bad, but pretty—

JACKET: Then we hide the briefcase and Rasbach’s corpse in the back room first. Then we follow. Quickly.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): We searched the streets for an hour, but Vespa was gone.

SOUND: KEYS JINGLE. DOOR CREAKS.

JUNO: Ow, ow… ow, ow.

JACKET: You make that noise a lot, don’t you.

JUNO: Ohhh, sorry, does it bother you? Don’t mind me, I’m just the guy who’s been playing peekaboo with his large intestine for the past hour— OW, ow, ow.

JACKET: You said your organs would not fall out.

JUNO: It was a joke! Do big caveman get joke?

JACKET: I do not know. I have never met one.

BUDDY: Stop it. Immediately.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Where’s the briefcase?

JACKET: We left it in the back room.

BUDDY: I remember you saying that, but it isn’t here. And neither is Rasbach.

Well. It seems our sale was completed after all.

JACKET: He took the Curemother?

JUNO: He didn’t die?!

JACKET: But more importantly: we have the money?

BUDDY: He couldn’t take it even if he wanted to. Both of us would have to consent to another transaction. All sales final.

JUNO: So it-it’s done. The sale’s done. It sounds like it… worked out, right?

BUDDY: Do business with a glorified slave-trader once, then wash my hands of it for good. That was the plan. So yes, everything went according to plan. But… Vespa.

Karma comes in all shapes, doesn’t it?

JACKET: Buddy…

BUDDY: Her debtor’s tag, Juno. What number was on it?

JUNO: What?

BUDDY: I know she had one. I’ve been thinking about it for an hour and that’s the only option that makes sense. Just… tell me what it said.

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: It-it was, uh… five.

BUDDY: Five?

Five years… I can’t…

Thank you for not shooting her, Juno. I’ve already lost her once. Losing her again… I think that would be the end of me.

(DEEP BREATH) The number on the debtor’s tag is the number of years they’ve been… owned. Vespa has been in the Cerberus Province without rest for five years. It’s a miracle that the radiation hasn’t killed her, unless… five years… Vespa, where have you been?

JUNO (NARRATOR): You could tell from the look in Buddy Aurinko’s eyes that the number of years wasn’t what bothered her. It could’ve been five months or five weeks or five minutes, and all it would’ve amounted to is the same thing: she felt hope, and she was terrified of it. The presumed-dead were walking in the Cerberus Province, and that was a nightmare. Because there’s peace when hope finally dies, when it stops moving and you can nail the coffin shut.

Buddy looked like she’d won that peace the hard way.

But there was movement in that coffin now, something pounding the lid from the inside, and if the old hope was so hard to bury the first time… who knew what kind of damage it could do the second.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you’ve enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you’ll receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from actors Joshua Ilon, Sarah Gazdowicz, Alexander Stravinski, and co-creator Sophie Kaner:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

SARAH: Um, I would say that I pretty much went as straight as I could with—

SOPHIE: (LAUGHS)

SARAH: —the suggestion– okay. Okay, okay. OKAY.

SOPHIE & JOSHUA: (LAUGH)

SARAH: No, I-I think I was predominantly influenced by the, the note that I was given about the character, which was – oh, like a Katharine Hepburn being, like, a major influence or source for the- how the voice should sound. And then the struggle began with maintaining it, not making…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: Did you know that The Penumbra has merchandise for sale? It’s true! The Penumbra has partnered with DFTBA to bring you the posters, shirts, and pins your heart desires. Just go to dftba.com and search for The Penumbra Podcast.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Regan, Ko, KC, Atha Lang, Vron, Charlie Spiegel, Minchowski, Jaimie Gunter, and the Princess and the Scrivener for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Time Gone By, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Alexander Stravinski as the Man in the Brown Jacket, Sarah Gazdowicz as Buddy Aurinko, William Schuller as Rasbach, and Chloe Cunha as Vespa.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert. If you wish to know more about our ever-expanding, infinitely-creative team of artists, musicians, editors, designers, and managers, you can read about them in the show notes of this episode.

I’m afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

#juno steel