Order of Magnitude

LXIV. The Sad Tale of Hagen

     Hagen slogged through the dirt and grass, stumbled, picked himself up, stumbled again. His legs had turned to rubber and his body ached. With the adrenaline of a good fight wearing off, he realized just how badly he'd been damaged. Blood stained his hands—both his and his enemies—and his sweaty clothes were caked in dirt.

     He came to a stone half-buried in the dirt. He climbed atop it and looked around the area. An endless field in one direction, a forest in another. Behind him, buildings scratched the sky and traffic hummed without rest.

     I certainly can't go that way, he thought. I wouldn't last too long in the human world. I can't go to the forest, not with the Lost running around. And I can't go back home to SubTerra. Not after I killed so many of my own people. Looks like I'm going through the field.

     "Yeah, that seems like a good place to die," he muttered, then jumped, startled by the sound of his own voice. "You're talking to yourself," he said, louder this time. "Not a good sign."

     Something about the situation, the hopelessness of it, the absurd chain of events that led him here, all of it made him lean back and laugh into the sky. A light drizzle splashed around him, soaking him head to toe. This only made him laugh even more.

     "What are you laughing at?" he shouted to the heavens. "Or are you crying?" More wild laughter, until tears formed in his eyes.

     "Only a fool talks to the sky and expects a response," a voice floated from the dense clump of grass. Hagen reached for a weapon instinctively, forgetting that he'd already lost it.

     "Who's there?"

     "But I don't think you're a fool." The grass parted, and a small figure stepped out. "Maybe you're just a crazy dude."

     The stranger walked up to Hagen—a cool, confident strut—and stared him down. The stranger wore brown from head to toe: brown shoes, faded brown cotton pants, a long-sleeve brown shirt, open in the front, and even a brown ascot around his neck. The only thing on him that was not a shade of brown was his jet-black hair and olive colored skin. He had a long face, made more striking by his pointy chin. In his hand, he held a strange looking device that couldn't be anything other than a weapon. From top to bottom, the man exuded power and control. He couldn't remember the last time a single parve made him feel so uneasy.

     The stranger put his fingers in his lips and gave a whistle. The grass parted and a group of brown-clad men and women surrounded Hagen. Their numbers didn't seem too impressive—after SubTerra, every group looked meager by comparison—but Hagen didn't like it nonetheless.

     The stranger stuffed a hand into his shirt. "So, which is it? Are you a fool or just some crazy dude?"

     Hagen remained silent. He didn't know which choice would keep him alive the longest.

     One of the others grabbed him by the shirt. "Hey, when Merd talks, you answer."

     The stranger—Merd—shot his murderous eyes at his underling, who shrank back in fear, then focused those eyes back on Hagen. "Do you have an answer for me?"

     Hagen searched deep inside of himself for his voice. "I thought I was done for," he said, straining to make his voice as loud as it could be. "Wasn't sure if I was ever going to find anybody again."

     "Oh, I get it," Merd leaned in closer. "You thought you were all alone, so you made up some friends. Is that it?"

     Hagen kept his mouth shut.

     "Well, here we are," Merd spread his arms wide. "We're your new friends. Your wish came true; you created us out of thin air with your very desire for companionship. What amazing powers you must have."

     The group snickered. The underling from before nudged the guy next to him. "Yeah, you tell him boss."

     Merd spun on him. "Franklin, seriously. Shut the hell up."

     The underling's face paled and he lowered his head.

     "Do you guys come from a- a community?" Hagen asked.

     "Us? No way. Communities are boring. You have to eat the same food all the time, sleep in the same bed. It's madness. Total and utter madness." He put an arm around Hagen's shoulder. "The world is our community. We take what we need and keep going. I daresay we've seen more of this country than any other parve in the world."

     The others made grunts of agreement.

     Merd twisted his head to the group. "Franklin, I've warned you twice already to shut the hell up!"

     "But I didn't say any—"

     Merd put his finger up and smiled. "That's three, now. Boys, you know what to do."

     The others led the underling away in silence. Moments later, screams pierced the air.

     "He's new to our team," Merd said, his hot breath against Hagen's cheek. "He doesn't get it, yet. But he will soon. You won't have that problem with us, will you?"

     Hagen watched as they dragged the underling's limp body back. Blood dripped from his open mouth. He could see through the crimson stained teeth and lips that the underling's tongue was missing. "No, you won't have any problems with me."

     Merd released his grip and held a finger up. "That's one," he said, malice in his eyes. "Do you come from around these parts?"

     Hagen nodded his head vigorously.

     "You can speak now. I'll allow it."

     Hagen's response came slowly, full of trepidation. "Yeah, I'm from a big community. Huge, really. Thousands of us."

     "Really?" His eyes lit up, but that murderous gleam remained. "That's fantastic. We've been looking for a nice big place to trade supplies with while we journey down the road. Can you show us where it is?"

     Hagen opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and nodded his head.

     "Atta boy. You learn quick. See, Franklin; that's how it's done." Franklin lay on the ground unconscious. "Sleeping on the job, eh Frankie? I'll make sure to brief you when you get back up." He turned to Hagen. "Now, let's go back to your place."

     Hagen looked from the sea of brown-clad soldiers, then to the underling on the ground, then finally to those horrible, murderous eyes. Hagen nodded his head again. Merd smiled.