Nightlights: Guardians of the Edge

7.2: "And one by one the stars go out."

They kept Natalie in darkness, except for when they came to see her. Her cell was a larger closet now, with smooth floors and walls, and a rough facsimile of a toilet created by the belligerent Tower voice. The room was large enough to pace, and pace she did. The darkness swallowed her, otherwise. It was worse than having her eyes closed, worse than being blind. The Guardians called the monsters that stalked humanity Awakened Darkness for a reason, and even passive and sleeping, the endless darkness tried to creep inside.

One wall was clear, with a mesh at the top that let her visitors speak to her, and a small sliding door they used to pass her food. After a day in the dark, even oatmeal was a taste explosion. The visitors came with light more often than they came with food, to speak with her and inspect her. She didn’t want to cooperate. But she couldn’t look away from the light, and didn’t want to return to solitary silence.

Hatherly stood on the other side of the window, his hands behind his back as he watched her eat. They’d fed her three times now. Had it been a day? Two days? She wasn’t getting very hungry between meals, but once, when she’d stopped moving, she’d forgotten she had a body. She couldn’t trust its cues.

“It’s a shame you can’t be trusted yet.” Hatherly’s voice was pleasant, like they were back at home again. “But we can’t rush things. I’ve rushed things before and the results have been… unsatisfactory. Still, you do have an element of choice here, and I understand that boredom is a killer in times like these. And other things.” He sighed. “Striking a balance is hard.”

“What choice can I make, alone in the dark?”

“Even alone, you fight the darkness.”

“Isn’t that what you want?” Her voice cracked.

“No,” he said gently. “I want you to defeat it.” He left her again in darkness.

She stared at hands she couldn’t see. An hour into the darkness, she’d turned them into a stage 1 weapon, just to have something to look at. She’d watched the walls belch forth little horrors that came for her and dragged her down. Her hands burned them but they didn’t care. They’d held her until she let the light fade.

The Tower voice rasped, and the monsters faded away. “Next time,” came Hatherly’s voice in the darkness, “The tower will kill you. It presents a convincing argument that only monsters do not learn.”

Later, it was Tainter who brought the light. His cambion came with him, and he stroked spiky fur as he crouched on the far side of the window and stared at her.

She stayed away. Even on the other side of a wall, he frightened her. She didn’t think he’d ever been sane; he was like an alien wrapped in a human skin, operating under different rules and different assumptions about the world.

He cleared his throat. “It’s a lot of work, changing the world. Nobody ever talks about the grocery shopping. It’s not all robbing banks and high security research facilities, you know. I picked up hamburger for the next meal. I do hope you like it.” He laughed. “There was a dog outside the store. It could smell Rend, I think. Poor little thing didn’t like that at all. But I gave it something else to worry about.”

Natalie gagged. Tainter moved closer to the window. “Are you sick? Would you prefer something else for your meal?”

“I don’t want anything cooked by you!”

He shook his finger. “No hunger strikes. We’ve got to keep you healthy.”

“Why? What do you want with me? What’s going to happen to me? Won’t you just tell me?”

“Oh, the boss has special plans for you. Aya was a target of opportunity, but he thinks you’re exactly what he’s looking for.”

“For what?”