Shasta County, California

VALERY KONINGSBRUGGE

Jennifer told me that Xyler had transformed into a dragun. As expressed through Jennifer and Molly's reaction, it seemed an uncommon factor in the Compeller's lives. Xyler told us that it was his power, as much as my bubbles were my strength.

But unlike me, he wanted to be rid of his power. It was a burden - "both the prison guard to this prison, and the crystal key," he had said. Whatever that meant. "And now the key has unlocked the prison door, and in turn, the prison guard has disappeared," he went on to state.

    Me, Jennifer, Molly and Xyler scurried out of that cave and into the new sun, thinking that Ben was dead. Their sun was smaller than ours. Further upwards in the sky even at this time of day. There was still morning and that was the current time. Night as well.

    The cave was notched at the base of a mountain called 'Lassen Peak' as the sign pointed out, a few steps from the mouth of the cavern. Jennifer was my walking, breathing word detailer. A mountain, in simplicity, are plates of the ground crashing against each other to peak. Who knew the ground could be so intolerant to the stomps of man?

    The ground changed colour while I was following the pack. It went from the colour of sand, to the colour of faeces, to the colour of seaweed and it even resembled small slithers of seaweed. I missed my seaweed string.

Our pack agreed to cover me in the clothes of the Compeller and it was undoubtedly uncomfortable. For the sake of appearances, I persevered. We carried dismantled Iko suits in our arms.

    The ground was overshadowed by swaying trees which increasingly rustled from branches and leaves blown together by the wind. I know not what they were, but in thought and after Jennifer told me, I now know what to refer to them as.

Trees and branches and leaves. A symphony of words and images - that is how I will connect them.

We passed abandoned billets, where soldiers from different tribes used to sleep. There are tribe wars in this world, but our numbers pale in comparison to the mass genocide that the Compellers cause through wars against each other.

Jennifer and Molly were hungry, so they stopped to loot the billets and masticate on carrots they found. Then our treacherous trek continued. We walked for a while before we reached a road - used for their transportation, which was hunks of metal on fat rings of rubber. Cars they called them.

We whistled and stuck our thumbs out waiting for a car to stop. It was fun while it lasted. When a car did stop for us, I was squished into the back next to Jennifer and Xyler because Molly still hated my guts.

The driver, who commands the transportation, asked us a lot of questions. I wanted to answer some but I needed to keep quiet or else the driver would question my dialect. Jennifer asked for the man's phone, which receives voices whenever you input a string of numbers.

Jennifer called Ben and they talked until we had to hop off. Ben was back in his old settlement in Los Angeles. We commended the driver for his efforts, which was compensation for the ride and for taking the man's phone. Jennifer wanted to keep in touch with Ben. The driver had driven us to the city of Redding. Collective settlements is how I would explain it.

There were small settlements of brick. Or tall settlements of stone. Interconnecting roads with cars separated them. Animals which walked around on all fours - called horses - and didn't require water to breathe, played in the pastures and forests.

The country was a canvas for the seasons. The seasons: fall, winter, spring, summer. It was winter at the moment, as told by the freezing wind. The country was also a theatre for the birds who played through the air. Birds are flying animals that are carried by their wings instead of flippers that slice the water.

We were very tired from walking, so the girls wanted to go to sleep. Xyler spoke against it, but he was outvoted.

We bought a room at a hotel, paid in Iko suit parts. Me and Xyler had to share a bed. Jennifer and Molly were on the other, deep in sleep as soon as their heads hit the pillows. As I laid back, Xyler stayed sitting up.

"Can't sleep?" I asked.

"Not until I get my coffee - got a problem with that?" he asked.

"No. What is coffee?"

"Something that keeps you awake."

"But don't you want to go to sleep?"

"I'm better off awake. We need a lookout if the Fifty-One plans to capture all of us."

I had to admit, the beds in this world were much more comfortable than beds made from pumped air. So much so that my thoughts became intertwined with random ideas, impossible ideas, earlier than usual. It was a sign of sleep. Sign of sound sleep...

Daylight spun into my slumber. Peaking through the things that covered the glass. I am yet to learn what they are. But I am ready to learn.

I walked out of bed and onto the balcony. The air was very clear and the long morning shadows distinct. Xyler had fallen backwards onto the bed and fallen asleep. The coffee that was promised to be sent up by the manager hadn't arrived.

Something caught my eye. Along the horizon. Looming and psychedelic. A barrier of moving bubbles. It reached the level of the trees. I wondered what it was for. What purpose it served.

I didn't want to wake the girls up though for my curious awakening. When I mention Jennifer and Molly collectively as being girls, the latter was more than a girl. She had once been a girl - a girl under my care - but now she was... pretty.

Her bony wafer of a nose was now dainty. The baby fat had turned into feminine softness. Her hair, which had always been drenched back in my world, was now full in volume and bouncy. And her chest heaved under the blanket, up and down with each quiet breath.

But she had once been a part of my pack. I loved her too much to love her.

Could I ever? I could never.

How could I think these thoughts and not damn myself?

Jennifer woke up soon after. She stood next to me on the balcony.

I said, "How did you sleep?" She rubbed at her eyes which creased wider with each rub.

"Oh fine -" She took her hand from her eyes and stared at the barrier of squirming bubbles. "What the hell is that?! What is that?" She looked over at me as if I knew what it was. Or maybe it was just a normal response for Compellers to look at one another in distress.

"I don't know, I thought it was normal."

"You thought this was normal? This is not normal."

"Wait, think about it," I said, dubiously. "You haven't been back in twenty years. This might be a modern innovation."

"Modern innovation?! What - a wall to keep things out? Or to keep things in?"

"Maybe it's both. Or maybe it's neither."