{"id":666,"date":"2024-08-20T19:02:44","date_gmt":"2024-08-20T23:02:44","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/?p=666"},"modified":"2025-01-28T23:35:45","modified_gmt":"2025-01-29T04:35:45","slug":"the-changeling-game-chapter-57","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/the-changeling-game-chapter-57\/","title":{"rendered":"The Changeling Game, Chapter 57"},"content":{"rendered":"<style type=\"text\/css\">\ntt {\nfont: .857em menlo, monaco, consolas, monospace;\nmargin: auto;\n}\nh2 {\ntext-align: center;\n}\nh2.chapterhead {\nmargin-bottom: 2em;\ntext-align: center;\n}\n  .nowrap {\n    text-indent: 0;\n    display: inline-block;\n}\n<\/style>\n<p><b>Title:<\/b> The Changeling Game <small>(Formerly <i>Identity Theft<\/i>)<\/small><br \/>\n<b>Author:<\/b> Ardath Rekha<br \/>\n<b>Chapter:<\/b> 57\/?<br \/>\n<b>Fandom:<\/b> <i>Pitch Black<\/i> (2000); <i>The Chronicles of Riddick<\/i> (2004); <i>The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury<\/i> (2004)<br \/>\n<b>Rating:<\/b> M<br \/>\n<b>Warnings:<\/b> Adult themes, controversial subject matter, harsh language, violence<br \/>\n<b>Category:<\/b> Gen<br \/>\n<b>Pairing:<\/b> None<br \/>\n<b>Summary:<\/b> Confronted with the deadliest monster she\u2019s ever found, Jack tries to engineer his destruction\u2026 and learns a bitter lesson about her limits in the process.<br \/>\n<b>Disclaimer:<\/b> The characters and events of <i>Pitch Black,<\/i> <i>The Chronicles of Riddick,<\/i> and <i>The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury<\/i> are not mine, but belong to Universal Studios.  I just <i>wish<\/i> I were in charge of their fates.  No money is being made off of this.  I\u2019m writing strictly for love of the story.<br \/>\n<b>Feedback:<\/b> Absolutely, the more the better!  Shred me, whip me, beat me, make me feel grammatical! I post \u201crough,\u201d so I can always use the help. \ud83d\ude09<\/p>\n<input type='hidden' bg_collapse_expand='6a8e7b09bbe668099739487' value='6a8e7b09bbe668099739487'><input type='hidden' id='bg-show-more-text-6a8e7b09bbe668099739487' value='Long post is long. Click to read the story.'><input type='hidden' id='bg-show-less-text-6a8e7b09bbe668099739487' value='Hide the story again.'><button id='bg-showmore-action-6a8e7b09bbe668099739487' class='bg-showmore-plg-button bg-green-button  '   style=\" color:#D9ECFB;\">Long post is long. Click to read the story.<\/button><div id='bg-showmore-hidden-6a8e7b09bbe668099739487' ><\/p>\n<h2 class=\"chapterhead\">57.<br \/>\n<u>The Last Stand of Jack B. Badd<\/u><\/h2>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The moment Jack got off the train, she hurried into the nearest women\u2019s restroom, ducked into an empty stall, and isomorphed over into Elsewhere.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Passing back through the bathroom walls on the other side, she focused on the crowd of passengers in the process of disembarking in U1. Somewhere among them, Javor Makarov was lurking.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>I need higher ground,<\/i> she thought, looking around. Everyone was going to have to file up a set of escalators to leave the train terminal and enter the spaceport. If she was waiting at the top, she would see him when he came up.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She took the escalator at a run, two phantom steps at a time, passing through the packed passengers in U1 as if they were holograms. Only a small handful of people had gotten to the top ahead of her, and none of them were dressed the way Makarov had been. Unless he\u2019d pulled a costume change en route, she\u2019d beaten him to the top.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Her nerves were <i>screaming<\/i> as she scanned every passenger coming up the escalators. Families filed past her, solo travelers in both North African and Western attire, a group of kids being shepherded by an Imam who made her think, with a pang, of the boys from the <i>Hunter-Gratzner<\/i>, packs of offworld tourists looking self-consciously out of place\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u2026and, somewhere among them, a genuine monster moved unseen.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Just when she was starting to wonder if she\u2019d imagined it all, he appeared at the top of an escalator, carrying nothing but a briefcase.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">It was him. She hadn\u2019t imagined it. It was <i>him.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She followed him into the spaceport, her heart pounding again. She had to find some way to alert the authorities without exposing her abilities in the process. But how? He was disguised, and he probably had his Cam-Jam on him just in case. What was he <i>doing<\/i> here?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The next half hour, as he moved through the public spaces of the main terminal, didn\u2019t enlighten her. He avoided all the checkpoints, of which there still were far too few in her opinion, before sitting down in a lounge area near several food stands and settling in to wait. And wait.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Although New Casablanca was five hours ahead of New Marrakesh and its morning-day was already ending, Jack\u2019s departure wasn\u2019t scheduled until the close of the evening-day. She could wait him out. She <i>would<\/i> wait him out.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Finding a secluded, unmonitored alcove, she isomorphed back into U1 for a few minutes to buy herself some shawarma wraps from one of the food stands, already aware of how taxing it would become to keep U1\u2019s floors beneath her in Elsewhere. She had to stay sharp. She was back in Elsewhere well before the man Makarov was waiting for showed up.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The two men spoke Russian, and she couldn\u2019t understand a word they were saying. Fortunately, they weren\u2019t speaking quickly; the conversation was slow and full of pauses as they avoided being overheard by passers-by. Jack opened the translation program on her tablet and began repeating their words, phoneme by phoneme, into it. She sat only a foot away from them, cross-legged on the phantom floor, tablet in her lap, grabbing bites of shawarma during the frequent lulls in their conversation.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201c\u2026the last equipment I can get you,\u201d the stranger was saying. \u201cYou\u2019ve run out of favors. Most people would turn you in for nothing at this point.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cDoes that include you?\u201d Makarov asked.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cYou know it doesn\u2019t, brother. I owe you and I always will.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cWhat about the money Quintessa owes <i>me?\u201d<\/i> Makarov demanded, making Jack wish she could record conversations from the other side of the threshold. The tablet itself, a universe apart from the men, couldn\u2019t hear them at all even if she could. \u201cDid you get to it?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cNo, and I wouldn\u2019t try for it if I were you,\u201d the other man said. \u201cA picture of you in that fancy executive\u2019s entourage is circulating, and their PR department is going <i>insane<\/i> trying to \u2018disavow all knowledge of your crimes.\u2019 Their big fear is that someone could realize you were on their clock when you followed that colonel into the other spaceport and blew him up. The whispers are that they\u2019re considering taking out a contract on you themselves. Write it off. They\u2019d probably just use it as bait to lure you into a trap.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cSo they get some of my best work for free. Where does that leave me? I\u2019m in the hole.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cI can get you work. You don\u2019t mind hatchet jobs, you\u2019ll be fine. There\u2019s even a market for more pictures and vids like the ones that got out, if you\u2019re inclined to make them for money. I even know a girl or two you could start with. There are people who\u2019ll pay extra because they know it\u2019s all <i>real<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Motherfucker.<\/i> Jack spat out the last bit of the shawarma roll she\u2019d been chewing when she read <i>that<\/i> translation, packing away the remaining three for later when her appetite could reappear.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cSpeaking of which, what\u2019s the word on Pritchard?\u201d Makarov\u2019s voice turned poisonous for a moment.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cNo one has seen him since a few hours after that colonel\u2019s memorial. The word is he went off to follow up on a lead he had. His comm traveled up and down the coast for a while, and stopped at several brothels, but no one at any of them remembers seeing him. Then some traveling businessman turned it in at a lost-and-found, claiming he\u2019d found it in his gear, a few hours before the police filed a warrant to track it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Good work, Robie,<\/i> Jack thought. He\u2019d managed to obscure any connection to him somehow.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cSon of a bitch better hope I never find him\u2026 any idea who he was sharing those files with?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cNone yet. I\u2019m working on it, but whoever it was knew how to mask his location. I\u2019m not even sure he was really on Tangiers Prime when he sent his packets.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cFuck.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cI\u2019ll keep digging. In the meantime, you need to get off this rock. I have everything you need in here. You\u2019re going to Gate 137. I\u2019ll walk you through the checkpoint and nobody will be the wiser. Are you jamming right now?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cSwitch it off until you\u2019re past the checkpoint. People will notice.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov reached into a pocket on the right side of his djellaba for a moment. \u201cDone.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Right pocket. Good to know.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">If Makarov had his Cam-Jam in there, she could take it from him. She was <i>damned good<\/i> at picking pockets, and access to Elsewhere had given her a few new tricks to play. She\u2019d have to wait until he switched it back on, maybe swap in something that was a similar size and weight. Then he hopefully wouldn\u2019t even notice it had gone missing\u2026 and that he was no longer obscured from view on cameras.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">A plan was forming in her head. She\u2019d steal the Cam-Jam and drop it down into Elsewhere, and then sound the alarm. He wouldn\u2019t be able to hide if security could follow his movements on camera, and he wouldn\u2019t realize that he didn\u2019t have that advantage if he thought the Cam-Jam was still tucked in his pocket. They\u2019d be able to corner him easily.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Jack stowed her tablet and headed out, moving to get ahead of Makarov since she now knew his planned destination. She needed two things, and she\u2019d be ready to make her move. Something a similar size and weight as the Cam-Jam\u2026 and a disguise. Marianne Tepper couldn\u2019t be involved in any of what was about to happen, and neither could any of her other aliases. The person who sounded the alarm needed to appear to be someone completely random.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The back room of a nearby Duty Free clothing store proved a godsend, providing Jack with a small flask roughly the right shape and weight to sub in for the Cam-Jam, a face-concealing <i>niqab<\/i>, and a long <i>abaya<\/i>. She stowed her backpack in an out-of-the-way corner of the room and changed quickly, isomorphing back into Elsewhere so she could find the best place to ambush Makarov as he made his way toward Gate 137.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>I can do this,<\/i> she thought, palming the flask, mentally practicing the things she intended to say in Arabic as everything unfolded. Finding a concealed alcove, she isomorphed partway back, straddling U1 and Elsewhere and keeping the flask in Elsewhere, and began walking toward the checkpoint. Makarov was coming her way, his briefcase replaced by a larger case in his left hand and a duffel bag slung over his right shoulder. Perfect\u2014his right pocket was unguarded.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She turned, pretending to look at some of the decorations on the walls above, before \u201caccidentally\u201d bumping into him. Her hand slid into his pocket, isomorphing the flask back into U1 and dropping it before grasping the other item inside and moving it to Elsewhere.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cOh, I\u2019m so sorry!\u201d she said in Arabic. Her hand was free. To Makarov\u2014if he\u2019d noticed it near his pocket at all\u2014it would appear empty. She risked a swift glance at the Cam-Jam in her grasp before she released it and let it fall through the floor. She\u2019d grabbed the right thing. \u201cI wasn\u2019t looking where I was going\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov looked annoyed but was trying to move away, grumbling in Russian. She gasped and went still.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cIt\u2019s <i>him!\u201d<\/i> she shrieked, still in Arabic, raising her other hand to point after Makarov. \u201cIt\u2019s the Spaceport Bomber! It\u2019s him! I know that face! He bombed New Marrakesh! He\u2019s the raper of little girls! It\u2019s him!\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">People were staring. Several were looking more closely at Makarov. A few began to point as well.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cMadam?\u201d a man asked in Arabic, using the word she\u2019d heard shopkeepers use with Lajjun in stores. She turned. A spaceport employee was frowning at her.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cThat man! It\u2019s him! It\u2019s the Spaceport Bomber! He has a beard now but it\u2019s <i>him!\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cExcuse me, Sir, could you stop for a moment, please\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov took off at a run.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">In the ensuing commotion, no one noticed when Jack slipped away to her alcove and isomorphed the rest of the way back into Elsewhere. She pulled off the <i>niqab<\/i> and <i>abaya<\/i> and hurried back to the clothing shop\u2019s back room, returning to U1, dropping them by their respective racks, and retrieving her backpack. Now she just had to watch and make sure Makarov didn\u2019t get away.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She stayed in Elsewhere as she followed the commotion, running flat-out to catch up and hopefully get ahead.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov had briefly lost the handful of spaceport employees who had chased after him. They were milling about, one of them speaking to security on her comm and asking for guidance.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>If his Cam-Jam was still working, there wouldn\u2019t be any,<\/i> Jack thought. Now. Where was he?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She ran ahead, imagining which corridor <i>she<\/i> would duck down if she were trying to hide but wasn\u2019t worried about cameras.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The overnoon hours had arrived for New Casablanca, and although the enormous spaceport remained busy, many of the hallways were quiet and even deserted. Jack found Makarov in the third one she checked.\n<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">He was crouching down with the larger case, which he\u2019d apparently exchanged his briefcase for after she\u2019d left, open before him. Inside, he had an <i>arsenal.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Oh, fuck.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">As Jack watched, he armed himself with multiple guns and\u2014<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Oh <b>fuck!<\/b> Grenades?<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">To his side, a camera stared down balefully. He ignored it, undoubtedly assuming it was blinded, as he finished strapping on the guns, pocketing explosives and spare clips of ammunition. He\u2019d taken off his <i>djellaba<\/i> and <i>kufi<\/i>. Opening the duffel bag, he ripped off the fake beard he\u2019d been wearing, cursing in Russian as he did so. He pulled a <i>tagelmust<\/i> out of the bag, wrapping it around his head and covering his face with swift efficiency. A moment later, he had a new <i>djellaba<\/i>, in a different style, concealing his arsenal. He didn\u2019t even glance at the flask that had replaced his Cam-Jam as he pulled it out of the old <i>djellaba\u2019s<\/i> pocket and transferred it to the new one, still on his right side. He dropped two more grenades into the <i>djellaba\u2019s<\/i> left pocket.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Security was seeing everything; Jack was certain of it. They knew how he\u2019d changed his appearance\u2026 and they also knew that he was well armed and extremely dangerous\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u2026and had <i>fucking grenades.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Everything was unraveling. Jack felt nauseated. In front of her, Makarov rose from his crouch, closing the arms case and kicking it to the side, and began to stroll out into the corridor with just his plain black duffel bag. If that had actually been a Cam-Jam in his pocket, he would have become unrecognizable. But the fact that Security knew what he looked like was countered by the weaponry he had at his disposal, and he <i>knew<\/i> they were looking for him.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>I fucked this up. God, I fucked this whole thing up\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">A large group of people must have just disembarked from a flight. As Jack watched, her stomach plummeting, Makarov inserted himself into the group. Its members were talking and laughing, blithely unaware, making Jack think of a herd of sheep that hadn\u2019t even noticed a mountain lion slipping into their midst\u2014<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cStop right there! Nobody move!\u201d The order was shouted in multiple languages as heavily armed security officers appeared in the hallway ahead, weapons drawn.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Several members of the group shrieked in fear as they came to a stop. Many of them flung their arms above their heads\u2014obscuring Makarov from the sight of the security staff in the process\u2014while a few dropped to the ground. A small child began wailing.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Children. There were <i>children<\/i> in the middle of what was about to turn into an <i>armed stand-off\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>No, no no no no\u2026<\/i> She had to stop this. How the fuck could she stop this?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cEveryone down on the ground!\u201d Again, the command was shouted in multiple languages. The terrified travelers began to comply.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov didn\u2019t wait for them to give the officers a clear shot at <i>him.<\/i> He began shooting before they were out of his way, his weapons set to fully automatic fire.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Screams broke out in the crowd. Jack heard herself screaming, too, as she watched an elderly man, who had been struggling to lower himself to the floor, torn to pieces by the flurry of bullets. The rounds struck several more travelers on their way to the security officers. <i>They<\/i> had body armor, but it wasn\u2019t good enough for whatever kind of high-powered ammunition Makarov was using. Some of them flew backwards from the impact, and one of them <i>suddenly had no face.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Oh god, oh <b>fuck<\/b>\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Several officers fired back, even as they ducked behind whatever cover they could find. All of their shots went wide, one striking a man in a pilot\u2019s uniform who had rushed out of a side corridor in response to the screams.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>\u201cBaba!\u201d<\/i> a woman wailed in Arabic. <i>Papa.<\/i> She had crawled over to the old man and was cradling his bloody remains. Improbably, he was still breathing, scarlet foam bubbling from his lips. \u201cSomeone help me! Papa! Don\u2019t die! Oh, God help me! Papa!\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov discarded one of his guns and then grabbed a crouching woman by her veiled hair, hauling her up as she shrieked in terror and pain. Holding her as a shield between himself and the surviving officers, he dragged her backwards out of the group, one gun still out and ready to fire.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>He has a hostage\u2026 Oh fuck\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov swung his gun around, clearing a path back toward the flight gates as terrified onlookers screamed and flung themselves to the floor. Alarms had begun to keen overhead as he wrestled his captive down the hallway, roaring \u201cI will fucking shoot her!\u201d in Arabic when one of the officers moved to follow him.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">A middle-aged woman, kneeling on the floor, was wailing, \u201cNadia! Nadia!\u201d with her arms reaching out toward Makarov\u2019s hostage. A little boy next to her began to cry.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cMama!\u201d he sobbed. \u201cMama!\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Oh no\u2026 oh no no no no no\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Still in Elsewhere, barely able to breathe, Jack ran after Makarov. Could she grab Nadia away from him somehow? She had to stop this. None of this was supposed to happen.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov dragged Nadia into an elegant lounge area beneath a suspended sculpture of a winged horse, where several corridors met and where balconies on a higher level looked down over the area. Too late, Jack saw the armed men in position above him, less than a second before Makarov realized they were there, too.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">He let go of Nadia as he raised his gun, his freed hand plunging into his left pocket.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>Oh fuck, the grenades\u2014<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">In a thunderous roar, multiple weapons opened fire from several directions above him. Makarov and Nadia both convulsed as they were struck by dozens of bullets.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">An armed grenade dropped from Makarov\u2019s hand and rolled free.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>\u201cCOVER!\u201d<\/i> someone shouted in Arabic, right before a blinding flash filled the space and\u2014<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She found herself lying on nothing, suspended several meters above the ground in Elsewhere by a phantom floor in U1 that had somehow <i>tilted<\/i> slightly. Even through the veil between \u2019verses, the concussive force of the explosion had struck her, hammered at her through her connection to U1. Her ears were ringing. She forced herself to sit up, looking around. For a moment, everything was random, dark shapes, bright blobs\u2026 she made herself focus.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">In Elsewhere, below her, strange primordial animals looked quizzically up at her from a pastoral grassland. She hadn\u2019t even noticed them before, so focused on U1.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">U1\u2026 was\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Hell.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Intense beams of sunlight sifted down through the smoke and dust where parts of the concourse ceiling had collapsed. Power had gone out in the causeway, and even the emergency lights had been taken out by the force of the blast. Everything was a horrible chiaroscuro of too-bright overnoon sunlight and utter darkness. Bodies, and parts of bodies, lay on the broken floor.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Where Makarov and Nadia had fallen under the hail of bullets, there was now a dark, gaping hole at least three meters wide. Black smoke wafted upward from it. The pegasus sculpture had fallen into it, one scorched wing protruding. The horse&#8217;s head had broken off and stared accusingly at her from atop the smoldering carpet.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The air was full of agonized screams and groans.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She turned away for a moment, falling to her knees and vomiting everything left in her stomach down onto the peaceful meadow below her. She heaved for several long moments before she forced herself to stand back up, turn around\u2026 and look at her handiwork.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>I did this,<\/i> she thought, still feeling a need to puke even though there was nothing left. <i>This is my fault.<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Makarov\u2019s grenade had been powerful; it must have set off the other explosives he\u2019d been carrying as well. The explosion wasn\u2019t as nearly as big as the one he\u2019d detonated in New Marrakesh, but\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Someone must have shut off the hydrolox-M fuel lines when they heard who was in the spaceport; no fire had broken out. But\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">But things were terrible enough as it was.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The balconies that the security officers had fired from had collapsed, taking them down to the main floor. Broken bodies, most unmoving, were scattered at each of the hallway entries, half buried under rubble. A few groaned; one man sobbed for his mother.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Just when she isomorphed back into U1, she was never sure later. She found herself beside the sobbing man, trying to lever huge chunks of masonry off of him. \u201cStay still,\u201d she told him in Arabic. \u201cI\u2019m going to help you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Someone started helping her heave the debris away. \u201cCareful,\u201d her helper said, in English. \u201cWe don\u2019t know how badly he\u2019s been hurt\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She nodded, trying not to keep her movements slow and careful.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cStop,\u201d the man helping her suddenly said. \u201cDear God\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">The remaining piece of masonry on top of the sobbing man, she realized with horror, was jammed into his abdomen. They couldn\u2019t remove it without disemboweling him.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cGet it out of me,\u201d he wailed in front of her. Just like Owens\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cOh no, no no no no no\u2026\u201d This man was dying because of her. All of these dead bodies were her doing.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cCome on,\u201d her helper said, his arms around her and pulling her back away from the dying man. \u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have to see this. Are you hurt?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She looked up at him for the first time as he helped her stand. For a moment she thought Owens\u2019 ghost had found her. The man had a similar look to him. He wore a Sirius Shipping jumpsuit and had a Captain\u2019s badges. He looked like he was maybe a few years older than her father.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She shook her head. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not \u2026injured\u2026 I got knocked over, but\u2026 that was it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">A horrible, cold, calculating part of herself kept thinking that it was <i>good<\/i> that the cameras had gone down already, so nothing would have caught her transitioning back from another \u2019verse in all the confusion. Her secrets were still safe, including how she\u2019d survived the blast, even if\u2014<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Even if dozens of people had died because she was too busy protecting <i>herself<\/i> and her <i>secrets<\/i> to just <i>tell someone what she knew<\/i> instead of setting off a disaster\u2026<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cSame here. I heard the commotion, and then\u2026 for a moment I was afraid it was a repeat of what happened in New Marrakesh. But I just got knocked off my feet.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>It almost <b>was<\/b> a repeat\u2026 and that was <b>my<\/b> doing\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Part of her wanted to confess it all, tell him that this was all her fault. But the secrets she had to keep had even more lives in the balance: hundreds, possibly millions. As much as she wanted to come clean, she couldn\u2019t. She just nodded.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i>I should\u2019ve called General Toal. Why didn\u2019t I call General Toal? He would have known what to do. Something <b>smart<\/b> to do\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Why had she ever thought she was any good at this shit?<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Emergency teams were pouring into the area. The Captain, still keeping an arm around her as he walked her out of the blast zone, directed one of the teams to the man pinned under the rubble, warning them of what they were going to find. They were in the midst of a triage area, nerve-slashing screams coming from different parts of the dim hallway as paramedics labored over mangled bodies. She saw Nadia\u2019s mother and son, hugging each other tightly and sobbing loudly, off to one side.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Nadia, she knew, would never be coming back to them. They would hold out hope of a miracle for a while, given the probability that nothing was left of her body to show them\u2026 but she was gone.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\"><i><b>I<\/b> killed her\u2026<\/i> And not just her.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cHere,\u201d the Captain said to her a moment later. \u201cLet\u2019s get you checked in\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She blinked, looking around. He had led her to a door out of the concourse, out of the building altogether. People were bustling around outside, directing emergency vehicles. Someone had set up a table, and a woman was seated behind it, talking to a family in front of her and taking notes. The Captain walked her over to the table.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cCaptain Curtis Bevan,\u201d he told the woman when the family moved away and she looked up at them. \u201cI\u2019m captain of the <i>Pleiades Jewel.<\/i> I found this girl in the blast zone, trying to help a man who was crushed under debris. I\u2019m going to go back in to assist the rescue crews. Can you help her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cOf course,\u201d the woman said, noting down <tt>Curtis Bevan, Captain, <i>Pleiades Jewel<\/i>, helping rescue crews<\/tt> on her tablet. \u201cYoung lady, can you tell me your name, please? I\u2019ll help you reconnect with whoever you\u2019re missing.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Almost half a dozen names tried to crowd their way into her mouth all at once.\n<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cYou remember your name, don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She nodded, her mouth terribly dry.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She couldn\u2019t say Audrey MacNamera. Even more people would die if she did. She couldn\u2019t say Jack B. Badd, either, for the same reason. A big part of her wanted to say Tislilel Meziane, but that would lead to disaster, too. Piper Finch could also ring alarm bells, even though she\u2019d barely used that alias\u2026 especially if the woman in front of her had ever read any of the <i>Ginny Lane, Kid Spy<\/i> novels and remembered the name of Ginny\u2019s inventor best friend. There was only one name left that was safe to give.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">\u201cM\u2026Marianne,\u201d she managed after a moment, and reached into the belt under her shirt, pulling out her ID. \u201cMarianne Tepper.\u201d<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">It was, in truth, the only name left for her until she was back on Deckard\u2019s World and became Audrey again. One name had never really been hers, and the other two were lost to her forever.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">She had been wrong, she realized, when she\u2019d told Kyra that Jack was dead. Jack hadn\u2019t died yet at that point. Jack had had one heinous crime left in her to commit on her way out.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">Jack B. Badd hadn\u2019t just unleashed this horror on New Casablanca. She\u2019d committed a far more intimate atrocity at the same time, an existential murder-suicide.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-indent:1em;margin-bottom: 0\">As her final act, Jack B. Badd had murdered Tislilel Meziane.<\/p>\n<p><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Title: The Changeling Game (Formerly Identity Theft) Author: Ardath Rekha Chapter: 57\/? Fandom: Pitch Black (2000); The Chronicles of Riddick (2004); The Chronicles of Riddick: Dark Fury (2004) Rat","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"bgseo_title":"\u201cThe Changeling Game\u201d 57: \u201cThe Last Stand of Jack B. Badd\u201d","bgseo_description":"Confronted with the deadliest monster she\u2019s ever found, Jack tries to engineer his destruction\u2026 and learns a bitter lesson about her limits in the process.","bgseo_robots_index":"index","bgseo_robots_follow":"follow","footnotes":""},"categories":[9,21],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-666","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fan-fiction","category-the-changeling-game"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/666","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=666"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/666\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1166,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/666\/revisions\/1166"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=666"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=666"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.ardath-rekha.com\/wips\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=666"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}