Loki and Ingrid 38

A Ship to Fly

CRASH! The ceiling, the floors, the walls everything, is shaking. I look up abruptly to find the source of the noise. Lyd is still immobilized as the ceiling starts falling in. “LYD!” “LYD! You have to move!”

          “Who’s there!” shouts Sif, “I said, who’s there?”

          “Shit, wish I had a gun,” Lyd is on her feet now, “Not that I care anymore, you just destroyed me with your existence, Loki.”

          “Stop it!”

          “What am I doing?”

          “Stop it! I think someone’s coming!”

          Sif looks around frantically, “It’s somebody, one of them!”

          “How many are there? Nova and Aura, now this?”

          “No, I’m talking about my friends.”

          “Huh?”

          “I’m being sarcastic. They’re all-around a bad lot.”

          I’m quiet, trying to focus.

          “You guys can’t stay here,” says Sif, “I mean you and Ingrid.”

          “What about me?” says Lyd, “I want to stay.”

          “I’m not really worried about you,” says Sif, tensely.

          Two women descend through the ceiling, much more gracefully than they should, but with cold, faceless, expressions.

          “Oh, no,” say Sif and Lyd in unison.

          Sif whispers to me, “I know her,”

          “What?”

          “Long story!”

          They both have large guns, like the kind Lyd likes to use, and they are dressed identically in tight black leather. They look almost synthetic and give my stomach flashbacks to Nova. The taller of the two has a pasty complexion and a dull color of hair, once gold, but now faded to a bleak shade of grey, while the shorter one is fuller with a lavender sheen to her skin, and an odd shade of green for hair.

          “Who are you?” asks Sif, “You have to pay for the ceiling.”

          There is a silence as the two women look at each other and then the elder speaks. “We’re nobody. Just like you.”

          Sif nods quietly, “She looks familiar. In and out.”

          “Huh?” I turn around. “What?”

          “She’s the ‘friend’ I was talking about. Someone from years and years ago. Went rogue, now an assassin and a bounty hunter, but last job she had was in Aura’s inner ring, so very, very bad. Never seen the other girl.”

          “I have,” says Lyd, quietly.” She’s Zephenarian.

          “Oh no,” Sif shakes her head, “Is this Rina?”

          “Of course not! And why were you listening in on us! I hate you, always sticking your nose in people’s business.”

          “Money is money, so let’s be efficient about this,” says the taller woman, “Which one of you is Loki Laufeyson, and who the heck is P. G. Pegathorn.”

          “Huh?” I look up, surprised and confused.

          “Sure, let her look at it,” says the green-hared girl, laughing slightly, “We were warned about a girlfriend.” Her sugary-sweet voice makes me sick.

          I pick up the paper, being careful not to touch her slimy hands, and begin reading out loud. “Mission: bring P.G. Pegathorn and Loki Laufeyson to the facility, promptly and alive. The latter is being held at the palace on Asgard, further details are strictly classified. Reward. Five million units. Singed, Proxima Midnight. Do you know who that is?”

          “Who, Pegathorn or Proxima? Snaps Lyd.”

          “Well either.”

          “I love watching them figure it out, don’t you?” says the green-haired girl, smirking.

          My stomach churns again.

          “Yeah,” laughs the other woman, “You know, I’ve been a serious bounty hunter for years, and I still can’t crack the Pegathorn case. Let’s hope we can get a lead.”

          “I have no idea who Pegathorn is,” says Lyd, obviously trying to contain her hatred for the green-haired girl. “She used to be one of the workers with me, not a nice one, bullied me, she hasn’t changed a bit.”

          “No wonder I hate her.”

          “Excuse me?” Giggles the girl.”

          “Um, no I meant Sif, I meant her,” I stammer, as Sif gives me a look.

          “Got it,” says Sif, I don’t know who Pegathorn is either.”

          “Let me ask again, which one of you is—?”

          “Don’t start anything—” I try to say, but it’s too late before the first blast come.

          “Dammit with your sorcery, brb, I need a weapon!”

          “Not so fast!” Grey girl has her by the foot.

          “I know who that is,” Loki tells me.

          “Pegathorn? Good, since we’re all dying to know.”

          “No, Proxima. You don’t want to know.”

          “Yes, I do, I’m super confused.”

          “Fine. She’s like Aura but she’s not gold, she’s not one of the original children she has a spear that spells instant death if it touches you, she likes to taunt….”

          “Okay, we get it.” Snaps Sif, “But, these two don’t have a clue what they’re doing.
          “Think again,” says the gold-haired woman. “I’m Gemina, for the record. And I’m also Asgardian, so don’t worry, I know where I’m going.”

          “You’re Asgardian?”

          “Are you the girlfriend?”

          “I’m not—”

          “Yes.”

          “Lyd!”
          “I want to go away! I don’t want to be here anymore!”

          “Lyd, you need to be quiet.”

          “Who’s she?”

          “She sounds familiar,” says the other girl, “But I don’t know why. I just can’t put my finger on it.”

          Lyd looks visibly ill. “Loki, get me a weapon, then we’ll talk.”

          Then there it is, without warning, Aura’s chip. Only me and Lyd, by the looks of it.

          “Hold on, I want to figure out who she is,” says Gemina to the other girl, “You said you know her?”

          “Nah, never seen her before, her voice—she reminds me of someone I used to work with—”

          “Stop!”

          “Go!”

          “Got taken by the Zephenare officials when I was a kid…why I’m Asgardian but haven’t…

          “Gadalia?”

          “Who…”

          Who?

“Stop!”

          “Make it stop!”

          “Ingrid no!”

          “There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

          “Get out of here.”

          “Calder?”

          “You can’t do this!”

          “THANOS!”

          Die. You’re nothing. You’re nothing, no one cares about you, Ingrid, you were wrong about everything.

          It will never stop.

          Who am I?

          Who

          Am

          I?...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

“Wake up!”

          “She spaced there.”

          “What’s going on?”

          “I got her, but she’ll be back. Soon. Like tomorrow.”

          “Both of them?”

          “Yeah.”

          “So Gemina is someone I knew way back when I was a kid here, on Asgard kidnapped by the Zephenarians, turned rouge works for whoever will get her money, including Aura, and Thanos.”

          “Gadalia’s a native to Zephenare, but she was in the system, with me, grew up together, she hates me, bullied me, lucky she didn’t figure it out yet, with the disguise, but it’s only a matter of time.”

          “And Proxima tortured me on Titan, she’s in Thanos’ inner ring.”

          “Right, and no one knows who Pegathorn is.”

          “I’m going to have to go back to Asgard, since someone needs to attend to things, but for now I have to keep you two—er three, off the planet.”

          “Just as long as it’s not Zephenare or Jotunheim.”

          “Zephenare is a hellhole, Joutunheim might be safe.”

          “No, no, no, nonononononononononono!”

          “I second that.”

          “Well, you get to choose, since I need to be going, but please let me know how Ingrid is doing.”        

          “They’re coming back to Asgard, you can’t just leave.”

          “What do you want, anarchy?”

          “I wouldn’t particularly mind.”

          “Well anyway get out of here and don’t die.”

          “I’ll try not to. Gotta go, talk later.”

         

I struggle to open my eyes as I’ve been listening to the voices around me, but it feels like they’re miles away, coming though a tunnel, my eyelids are heavy, my head is spinning.  

          I finally force my eyes open, looking at a sloped metal ceiling. “Where am I?”

          “Oh, thank god she hasn’t gone insane!”

          “Lyd, where am I?”

          “My ship,” she says cynically.

          “Wait, what?”

          “Sif decided it wasn’t safe for us to be on Asgard since those—how do I put it—”

          “Since the bitches of Zephenare who happen to work for Thanos now, screw him, are coming back to Asgard.”

          “That works. Not very efficient though.”

          “How about dumb bitches?”

          “Guys,” I whisper, “I just want to know what’s going on. Not arguing over what to call them.”

          “Fine,” says Lyd, “My ship was closest and Sif got us off, since it’s dangerous for you guys to be there or whatever, I don’t get it.”

          “Maybe I should fill you in on the whole Thanos thing.”

          “I know who Thanos is, Loki, ‘cause I’m gonna kill him!”

          “That’s my job.”

          “Whatever, just sayin. Who’s gonna die first?”

          “Stop, please, just get on with it,” I say.

          “Okay, so Sif got all weird and basically dragged you, unconscious to this ship, with my keys.”

          “So, what happened to me?”

          “You know the chip, Nova and Aura used,” explains Loki, “Well, there’s been some modifications.”

          “I’m not sure what works better than slowly killing me—”

          “Just stop. So, it’s all based on memories and thought patterns—”

          “We don’t have time for your psychology degree!”  

          “It was you and Lyd down first, then Sif and I a few moments later but you were already out.”

          “So why did you three hold out when I didn’t?” I ask, “Am I weak? What’s wrong with me?”

          “Sif is lucky. Sif has a stable mental complex—”

          “She had a good childhood unlike me and you, Ingrid, that’s what he’s saying.”

          “And I have practice.”

          “But that’s what I don’t understand? Don’t I have practice too?”

          “Some people are naturally more resistant.”

          “So, why did you hold out, Lyd?”

          “Because she had the controls for my ship, and I remembered everything, but I thought it and kicked her in the face, and stepped on it.”

          “Well, that would explain it then,” I say, “Thanks, but I need to rest now.”

          “Rest is for morons, but sure, I’ve got a ship to fly.