Chapter 33:
In dreams
The cornfield was on fire.
Something was always on fire in Jane's dreams. The barn, the house, the City, the Tower. After a while, she began to accept it. She knew these were dreams, and that the fire was not real, and that there was nothing she could do about it, so in these reveries she would sit and watch the flames, the color of her hair, consuming something she cared about, turning it to ash.
She knew dreaming of fire for most people alluded to loss of control. It was an anxiety dream. Jane hoped that these visions were more literal for her, that they were simply a manifestation of her anguish about her own powers, but she wasn't sure. There were times she wanted to ask Kate if she ever dreamed of fire. Kate spent her entire life trying to maintain control. She must be afraid of losing it, Jane thought.
And so Jane stood at the edge of the cornfield and watched the fire burn, filling the sky with black smoke.
"Hello, sunbeam," a familiar voice said to her.
She turned, and there he was. Someone she thought she'd never see again.
"Doc," she said. "I never dream about you."
"That's okay," Doc said. "It doesn't mean you don't miss me."
"Doc, I screwed up," Jane said. "I screwed everything up. Titus disappeared, Kate's completely pulled away, the rest of us got locked up, Sam's dying . . ."
"You haven't screwed anything up, Jane," Doc said. "There's nothing you can't fix."
"I think I'm out of my league," she said. "I wish you were still here."
Doc smiled sheepishly.
"That's sort of why I'm here," he said. "I need your help."
"But you're not here."
"It's a long story."
"Doc."
"I left something behind at the oil rig that can help me get home, Jane. I need you to go get it."
"I'm not joking. We're locked up in the Labyrinth."
Doc raised an eyebrow.
"Seriously?"
"You wouldn't believe what you've been missing out on."
"This doesn't bode well for either of us," he said.
"No it doesn't," she said. "You could just turn us into butterflies or something so we could escape if you were here, couldn't you?"
"Something like that," Doc said. "What happened?"
"The Department is under new management and wanted us under thumb."
Doc sighed heavily.
"Okay. Okay. You have to take care of yourself and the others first. Forget about me for now."
"No," she said. "No, you're going to tell me how to help you."
"I don't want to be a distraction."
"Just tell me. So I'll know what to do if we get out of here."
Doc took off his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes in that weary way he always did when he was worried.
"Okay. On the rig, you'll find a room doctored up like my rooms on the Tower. Magical protective markings, candles, that sort of thing. There will only be one of them."
"Got it."
"On the floor you'll find a knife so sharp that the blade looks like it's made out of water," Doc said. "The handle is constructed of bone."
"What if someone took it?"
"Then I'm screwed," he said. "So let's hope it's still there."
"And if it is?"
"I need you to cut a hole in the world."
"I'm back to thinking this is a dream, Doc."
"This knife can cut a hole in reality, Jane. Just grab it and cut the air, that's all it takes."
"And then walk through?"
"Absolutely not!" Doc said. "Do not walk through. I need you to call me through it."
"I cut a hole in reality . . . and then I just call your name."
"My real name."
"I don't know your real name," Jane said.
Doc leaned in, put an arm around her, and whispered in her ear.
"That's your real name?" Jane said.
"The one that matters," Doc said. "And you're the only one alive who knows it."
"Why does nobody know your real name?"
"Because names are power, Jane. That's the most important thing I can teach you about magic. Naming of things is power. Keep it safe."
"I will."
"Okay," Doc said. He looked over his shoulder as if someone had called his name. "I need to go."
"Me too."
"I miss you, sunbeam."
Jane grabbed hold of Doc in a hug hard enough to knock the wind out of him.
"I'm going to get you home safe, Doc."
"Get yourself safe first. I've always had nothing but faith in you," he said, pausing. "I have to go. Goodbye, Jane."
"See you soon," she said.
She stood on the edge of the field, watching him walk through burning cornstalks, the flames extinguishing briefly as he passed.
Jane turned his real name over and over on her tongue like hard candy. I'll keep it safe, Doc. I promise.
Chapter 34:
Waking up
Billy stared at Jane's hair while she slept. He knew it probably looked creepy, but he didn't anticipate Emily calling him out on it quite so bluntly.
"Why are you gawking at her, you creep?" Emily said.
"I thought you were sleeping," Billy said.
Emily was sitting up on the couch, but she'd let the remote control clatter to the floor twenty minutes before and had been perfectly still with her goofy steampunk goggles down over her eyes for a while now.
"I was meditating," she said. "Why are you staring at Jane?"
"Her hair looks different, doesn't it?"
"Well it certainly doesn't have that fresh from the salon look," Emily said. "But you're not exactly a fashion runway model yourself right now."
"That's not it," Billy said. "It's . . . duller."
"Have you seen the shampoo they have in the shower here? It's like dish soap."
"Seriously. Her hair was like . . . real fire, remember?"
In the past year, Billy noticed, Jane's hair had started to become more and more flame-like, taking on a life of its own. He assumed it had something to do with her developing ambient powers, similar to his — the stronger his connection became with Dude, the less subtle that connection became, with his eyes glowing more often, the day-glow quality his skin sometimes had.
But Jane was looking ordinary the past few hours. Maybe even for a longer period or time, though Billy only noticed it now, as she was slept in that restless way she always did.
"Maybe she stopped dyeing it," Emily said.
Jane rolled over on her side and looked Billy right in the eyes.
"Are you two talking about me while I'm sleeping again?"
"How are you feeling, Jane?" Billy asked.
Jane bolted upright, as if remembering something important she'd forgotten to do.
"We have to get out of here," she said.
"That was not the question he was asking," Emily said. "Though possibly related."
"We have to get out of here, Billy. I know how to get Doc back."
"Seriously, how are you feeling?"
She rolled off the couch she'd been napping on and grabbed him by the arm.
"We can't wait for Kate to help us. We've got to get out of here."
"Okay. But Jane — are you feeling okay?"
"I'm . . ." she looked down at her hands, then back to Billy. "I'm tired, Billy."
"You look it."
"No," she said. "Billy, I don't get tired. I just don't. I'm never tired."
"Ahem," Emily said.
"Did you just literally say 'ahem?'" Billy said.
"Yes," Emily said. "Jane, when was the last time you were out of the sun this long?"
"I can't remember," she said.
Emily performed a grand gesture, sweeping her arm across the room.
"Your batteries are running low," Emily said. "You're like a house plant. You need sunlight."
Jane rubbed her forehead and sat back down again.
"I can't believe I'm going to say this, but . . . you're probably right," Jane said.
"I'm always right."
"Jane," Billy said. "Something you said about Doc?"
She waved him off.
"We can talk about that later. We need to . . ."
A knock came at the door. Before anyone could answer, it opened, and Winter walked in.
"Sorry to wake you," he said.
"What's going on?" Jane said.
"They weren't going to let you, but I insisted. You need to come with me. They're going to do the final test on Sam," Winter said.
"What do you mean they weren't going to let us?" Billy asked.
"Something's going to happen," Winter said. "He's either going to wake up, or he's going to fade away. You should be there either way. He's your friend."
* * *
"I think you're being sentimental," Prevention said. "They should be up in the observation area."
"He shouldn't die alone," Winter said.
Prevention stared at Jane, Billy, and Emily, then threw her hands up. "For the record . . . I like him. I don't want this to go badly."
"Then make it go well," Jane said.
Jane and Prevention glared at each other, but Prevention blinked first, turning away.
Billy felt a strange sense of pride at that.
"Let's get this over with," Prevention said, gesturing to one of several medical team members in Sam's room with them.
Billy looked at Sam's face. It was like a desiccated apple, all discolored and dried out. This can't be the same person we were having coffee with a few days ago, he thought. Billy half-expected Dude to answer him back, forgetting, not for the first time, that he was alone in his own head.
The medical team began disconnecting instruments, shutting down others, dialing back on even more. Billy looked at Jane, who spoke up.
"What are you doing?" she said.
"These geniuses think that the alien grafts they've given Sam will jumpstart if they put his body into distress," Winter said.
"They're going to try to kill him to see if they can make their experiment work?" Emily said, voice rising. Billy signaled to her to stay calm, not because he was calm himself, but because he had a feeling whatever Emily was considering doing would be so over the top he and Jane would be backed into a corner and have to follow her lead, which was never a good idea.
"Stop this right now," Jane said.
"It's the only way," Prevention said.
And then Sam began to seize.
His frail body convulsed, snapping ramrod straight and then almost bouncing up out of his hospital bed. The entire room filled with beeps and alerts and his vital signs went off the rails. The medical team rushed in, but Prevention started to scream.
"Let him process this!" she yelled. "You know the protocol! Give him time!"
The medical team froze, each member looking back and forth between Prevention and Sam. Prevention pointed at one doctor.
"I can hear what you're thinking. Back away."
Jane made a move for the bed.
"We have to help him — " she said, but she was cut off when one of the security team knocked her back with the butt of his rifle. Even Jane seemed startled by this, as she actually lost ground. Her expression was one more of bewilderment than pain, but Billy still found himself almost involuntarily moved to action. He zapped the guard with the wrist-weapon Winter had given him and watched the trooper drop his rifle, which was now slick and covered with ice.
Billy almost sensed victory before another security guard slammed a baton — first across his wrist, and then into his side. He felt the bone fracture in his forearm immediately, that instant, the deep pain only a broken bone has, but it was the cracked ribs that floored him, leaving him on his knees and gasping for air. Jane tried to rush to him but two guards blocked her path. It wasn't until she let her hands burst into flames that they backed away from Billy, one of the doctors screeching that open flames in a surgical unit was an explosion hazard. Billy felt Jane's hands, still hot to the touch, on his back, but his eyes were focused on Emily, trying to tell her not to do anything stupid, shaking his head at her. But the hairs on the back of Billy's neck stood up and he had a notion the entire room was about to become an anti-gravity field of revenge.
"He can't breathe!" Jane was yelling. "He's suffocating!"
Billy wanted to tell her it was just cracked ribs — just cracked ribs, ha ha, he thought, the nausea of bone pain creeping up into his gullet — but no words escaped his lips. Maybe I am suffocating, he thought, the room growing dimmer as he struggled to breathe.
And then he felt a boney, strong hand grasp his wrist, and all of his pain went away.
The room had stopped moving, medical personnel dumbstruck by the one-two punch of violence and the impossible. Jane's hand was on his back still, but Billy could feel her entire body tensing.
And Emily was running into the arms of a suddenly awake Sam Barren, who stood clutching Billy's wrist in one hand and the edge of his hospital bed with the other.
Sam let Emily wrap her arms around him, but the old man kept his grip on Billy, and the pain from his wrist and ribs started to drain. It was gradual, but definitive, as if the raw ache of his bone breaks simply washed away.
"I've got this, kid," Sam said, his voice hoarse and weak.
Billy saw a strange light, a faint reddish glow, drift down his arm and into the hand Sam had wrapped around Billy's wrist. Sam released Billy's arm, and Billy fell to the floor kneeling. He touched his ribs with his free hand and inspected his forearm — it was as if the bone breaks never happened.
Sam staggered, but Emily held onto him.
Billy was close enough to feel Emily use a small bubble of float to help keep Sam on his feet.
"Thanks, darlin'," Sam said to Emily, his voice so faint it was barely a whisper. "That took a lot out of me."
Billy heard weapons being cocked and placed a hand on Jane's shoulder to help him get back on his feet. She wrapped a still-powerful arm around him for support.
"How are you feeling, Sam?" Billy asked, his own voice a croaking mess.
"Better than you were a minute ago," Sam said. He broke into a coughing fit and leaned more heavily on Emily's tiny frame, not seeming to notice that she was holding him up by her own particularly weird and signature way.
"Glad to have you back, Sam," Prevention said.
"Go to hell," the old man replied.
"Mind telling us what you just did?" Prevention said.
"You'll have to tell me," Sam said.
"And we will," she said. "Medical team, please help Mr. Barren get more comfortable. Officers and agents, I want these three escorted back to their suite and kept under lock and key."
"You're not going to stop us from getting out," Jane said.
"You're doing a wonderful job of doing that yourself," Prevention said.
She pointed at the medical team again.
"I want a full workup of Barren within two hours," Prevention said. "And if these three try anything . . ."
Prevention pointed at Billy, still leaning heavily on Jane.
"Shoot him," Prevention said.