Welcome to The Story Scrapbook, a fiction newsletter by E.B. Howard. If you’re new in town, check out my Fiction Directory for navigation.
Mirai, Mirai is a bite-sized speculative serial drama, posting weekly. This time, Lady Radiance and her friends must fend off the attacks of multiversal megalomaniac Mheksos the Mighty—with the help of their children from alternate futures far worse than their own.
Previously, a frank conversation with The Matrix (Nick Harper) revealed to Christa that Liam may not be able to redeem himself in this timeline after all…
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Christa couldn’t find the first speck of coffee in this kitchen.
Earlier, Marissa had told her she was directing everybody to the first-floor break room for the time being, because that was where she kept things for test subjects—water, glucose supplements, and so on. Christa hadn’t really been tuned in for that part. She’d just assumed that the presence of two coffee machines (one large and very stained drip brewer, and one so fancy that she found it personally offensive) meant that there would be coffee grounds somewhere nearby. There was cinnamon vanilla coffee creamer in the fridge next to the energy drinks, and she’d even found a styrofoam cup behind the microwave that was gritty with spilled sugar but still stuffed with stirring straws, suggesting that while her assumption had been correct, she just hadn’t looked hard enough yet.
Not seeing a stepstool, Christa summoned her light again and floated towards the ceiling to check the cabinets’ top shelves. The last eighteen hours had been nothing but shock after shock in quick succession, and even this morning’s smiley sprinkle pancakes seemed a lifetime away. She just wanted a hot cup of coffee to help her pull herself back together. Why did that have to be so hard?
She had been furious to find out only after recruiting Lord Hades that The Matrix had lied to them all in order to get their cooperation…and was likely still lying, as getting straight answers had required her to press him on direct questions. All the same, without him there in front of her—and recalling how as she slipped down the hallway she’d heard Clare crying into the shoulder of an old man who wouldn’t even be born for another two years—she was struggling to stay angry. His story did sound tragic, and although she’d argued, she could understand wanting to save the last solitary instance of someone you loved. But that didn’t make it right to lure Jonathan into mortal danger and set up both her and Kari for heartbreak, did it?
No, she couldn’t agree…but she could understand it. That was more than she could say about Mheksos. Whether it was the physics or the philosophy that was beyond her, Christa could not wrap her head around how a time paradox could lead to someone merging with their alternate selves. As she shuffled forgotten boxes of kitchen supplies and thought it over, she decided that as Mheksos only made sense to her as Nick and Addie’s evil grandson from the future, she would leave her mental conception of him there. It wasn’t as if he seemed to be all that different from Nick, anyway, except for the robots.
The top of the refrigerator was dusty but finally promising. The coffee canister she picked up turned out to have a slot cut in the top, and to be labeled SWEAR JAR MAD SCIENCE! AND COFFEE FUND in faded Sharpie; behind it, however, was a box of pods for the fancy machine. Christa put the canister back and brought the box down. It annoyed her deeply to make plastic trash at a task so easily accomplished without it, but she supposed she couldn’t expect self-proclaimed mad scientists to share her sensibilities about the world. Some of the coffee pods were mocha flavor, at least. Checking that the machine’s water reservoir was full enough, she dropped one into place and closed the top with a satisfying click.
“I promise I’m not trying to follow you around.”
She turned, her aura flaring at the surprise. It was Hades, standing in the doorway with his stupid black coat fluttering in the draft from the hallway. She’d wondered when she first saw him if he was really dressed in all black in May, but he was—even the skinny jeans. Christa pushed her hair back from her face and flipped a loose coil around her wrist, holding her expression neutral only thanks to years of coaching. She was sure there was some reason she’d been angry with him, but it wasn’t coming immediately to mind. The brightness of his red eyes was different from when she’d seen him in battle—still there, but gentler and almost friendly, a fire caged in a hearth. Ruffled locks of dark hair brushed his broad, thoughtful forehead as he tossed his head a little, one corner of his mouth digging back into his cheek like it didn’t know where else to go. For an unguarded moment, she imagined resting the heel of her palm against that dimple while she executed the perfect stroke of eyeliner to frame the soft flame just so…
You’re staring, Christabel. Stop staring.
“Really, I’m not,” he said. “Makaria sent me down here to make her a cup of tea, but, uh…” The rest of Hades’ mouth joined that corner in an uncomfortable smile. “She set me up, didn’t she?”
“Probably so.”
“I should have expected it.” He came up to the counter beside Christa and opened the cabinet, thankfully finding the tea bags right away. “She caught me up to speed on everything she knows about the situation, but the whole time I was thinking how terribly biased she seemed to be by how much she wants to see us, uh…you know.”
“Yes.” She felt herself begin to blush, and ruthlessly suppressed it. “I suppose I can’t blame her.”
“I suppose I can’t, either.” His sigh was a little too theatrical, but then, it could only be for the best if he kept his mask on, too. “Your brother did give me a stiff talking-to on the matter, to his credit, but it was hardly necessary. Even from what Makaria’s told me, I think it’s obvious that we would make a bad match.”
She handed him an empty cup so that he wouldn’t have to reach past her. The hot water was on his side; maybe they wouldn’t really have to interact. The spare inch separating their fingers as he accepted the cup didn’t count. “Yes, a terrible match.”
“Then we agree on something,” Hades said as he filled it. “You know, though, I’m looking forward to when all this is over and I can go back to being villainous. I think you’d make a delightful nemesis—in a strictly business sense.”
“Of course.” She allowed him one of Lady Radiance’s sweet but superior smiles, even though a bit of a blush slipped out with it. “That’s cute. Are you already preparing schemes for me to foil?”
“My Lady, I can’t give away my secrets.”
“Hmm, it was worth a try.” Her coffee was finally done. She popped the pod out and tossed it overhand past him into the trash can in the corner. Hades whistled softly, and she tried to look disapproving as she shook her head over the splash of creamer. Then she took the cup and ducked out into the hall, hoping that they could quietly go their separate ways from here. Unfortunately, she got no such opportunity.
“Aunt Christa?” It was Jonathan, looking slightly relieved to see her. She felt a pang of guilt at having almost forgotten that he didn’t realize he was one of Mheksos’ primary targets. How could The Matrix have done this to him? What could she say to begin to explain it? “You’re on your way upstairs, right?”
“Well—”
“Thanks, you can take this up to Dr. Cotlin for me. I’m supposed to be next in the chair.”
Jonathan thrust a smooth plastic bag at her, and Christa accepted it reflexively. Then she looked down, and her stomach contracted uneasily at the sight of blood sliding across the inside of a sample tube. The printed sticker on the outside read GRIMES, SEBASTIAN CARTER. “I suppose…” But she looked back up to find he was already gone. “I wonder how badly it would derail Marissa if I suggested she get a real intraoffice delivery system for lab draws.”
“Which one’s Marissa?” Hades asked.
“That’s Dr. Cotlin, the biologist. I think she’s into robotics or something like that.” She pushed the bag onto him, seeing a way out of at least one of her problems. “Come on. She can be a bit much, but as far as I know, she doesn’t bite.”
“What a recommendation,” he said, following with the still-steeping tea in one hand and the unsettling specimen in the other.
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Thanks for reading, and a blessed and Merry Christmas to all of you!
For more stories set in this universe, see my superverse directory—you know you want to plunge into the archive over your long weekend.
Next week, Liam and Christa check in on Dr. Marissa in Mirai, Mirai #26: The Sample…
No reveals, a cute moment with hades, and probably some overlooked hints ill claim in 12 episodes to have known all along.
FINE ILL TAKE IT MERRY CHRISTMAS THIS WAS GREAT YOURE THE WORST
Why do I have the feeling that it's a Bad Idea to give Lord Hades a blood sample with Baz' kid's DNA and let him walk around with it?