Peter stops by Andrea\u2019s room. He knocks. He waits. After a while she comes down the hall.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not in there,\u201d she tells him.<\/p>\n
Gamely, he tries, \u201cAre you certain? We could check.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
She hesitates. She looks at him. \u201cThat is attempting to be clever, to one who has known the greatest of dwarf-smiths.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, yes,\u201d says Peter.<\/p>\n
She opens the door. She goes in. She nods sideways and he follows.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy,\u201d she says, flatly, looking around and spotting herself, \u201cso I am.\u201d<\/p>\n
Technically he could get in trouble for being in her room but the penalties for being wayward at the Lethal Magnet School for Wayward Youth are markedly lax.<\/p>\n
She turns her attention from her own presence to his. \u201cDid you need something, Peter?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a dance,\u201d he says, bluntly.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m aware,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
He goes a little still. \u201cAre you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s my nature,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t understand,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cAs a dance student,\u201d she says. \u201cIt is my nature to be aware of the fact that there are dances. I see the flyers on the wall; I think: aha! And I file the information in my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought it might be that other thing,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
She doesn\u2019t bother lying about it, nor does she confess. She just looks at him with her pupils slit like a cat\u2019s.<\/p>\n
\u201cI was just thinking,\u201d he says, bluffly, moving on, and rubbing the back of his head, \u201cthat since you\u2019re an alien freak and all, that you might not have anybody to dance with<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWith,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d he says. \u201cLike, I mean, a boy<\/i>.\u201d<\/p>\n
She stares at him in complete bafflement.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know.\u201d He puts one hand in the air, and the other hand lower in the air, and mimes turning. He cannot quite manage a quarter-rotation before embarrassment stops him from proceeding further. \u201cLike that.\u201d<\/p>\n
She scratches above one ear. \u201cHow extraordinary,\u201d she says. \u201cI had assumed that my teacher was merely joking.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re making fun of me,\u201d Peter says. \u201cI won\u2019t have it. I\u2019m a human, you know, not like . . .\u201d<\/p>\n
He trails off, because he can tell from her reaction that she wasn\u2019t making fun of him.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou really . . .\u201d He laughs a little. \u201cYou really . . . no way.\u201d<\/p>\n
She blushes. She looks off. \u201cIt\u2019s not funny,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cDang right it\u2019s not,\u201d he says. \u201cThat\u2019s awful, is what it is.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
He sprawls on her bed. She almost objects, because he hasn\u2019t taken his shoes off, but then she ignores it. \u201cYou freaks are all so lonely<\/i>,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s more of us? Of me, I mean? Of . . . I don\u2019t know what grammatical case to use,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cI knew the Devil when I was a kid,\u201d says Peter. \u201cHad to punch him in the nose to get him to go away. I always felt bad about that, after.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought, maybe he comes around, temptin\u2019 everybody like that, because he doesn\u2019t have any other way to talk to people. But now I\u2019m sure.\u201d<\/p>\n
He sits up.<\/p>\n
\u201cThere\u2019s a wolf-boy,\u201d Peter says, \u201ctoo. Guy couldn\u2019t be any stiffer if you shoved a triad of trissors up his butt. Er, if you\u2019ll pardon my saying so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEdmund,\u201d says the nithrid. \u201cHe is not like me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCould have fooled me,\u201d says Peter.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe is useless,\u201d says Andrea, bitterly. \u201cI am trying to teach him transcendence, but how can I? There is nothing to transcend.\u201d<\/p>\n
Peter swings around. He sits up. He looks at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cHim?\u201d he says. \u201cOh, you shouldn\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s too tight-wound already,\u201d says Peter. \u201cYou push him and you\u2019ll split him in half.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s not splitting,\u201d says the nithrid. \u201cHe\u2019s just . . . lumping there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLook,\u201d says Peter. \u201cKid thinks he\u2019s a milksop who ought to grow harder. But he\u2019s not. He\u2019s a born rotter, that one, trying to hang on to the gentle way. You give him too much rope, he\u2019ll just tie it to a tree and hang himself. Stands to reason.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes search his face. \u201cYou\u2019re joking,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need him,\u201d she says. The chains through her hurt her as she breathes. Her ghost-duck glowers. \u201cHe will burst my chains. I will go out, alive and free and blasting about the world. I will shatter its cities. I will fill them up with the anima of God. They will look at me, and him, and we shall storm and marvel; we shall fill them with wonder at our glory; we will light the souls of the survivors and make them great.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, yeah,\u201d he says. \u201cKill, destroy, get admiring looks, oh how marvelous! Whatever. If you just do \u2014 whatever \u2014 then you won\u2019t be alone, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou all think that,\u201d he says. \u201cIf you just \u2014 break your chains. Kill people. Tempt people. Eat people. Wolf stuff. Devil stuff. Whatever. If you just do that, then everybody will love you. That\u2019s how the Devil thought, too, you know. That it wasn\u2019t him, or me, that stood between us. That it was God, or mebbe Hans. That it\u2019s all that easy, you just do what you want and everybody will love you and it won\u2019t actually<\/i> be bad.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop it,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou know,\u201d says Peter. \u201cYou people don\u2019t have a right to be on our world. Doing what you like, spreading fear and devastation \u2014 you\u2019re just \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cStop it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stops.<\/p>\n
He looks down at his hands for a while. She paces back and forth. Then he looks up.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo,\u201d he says, \u201cI was wondering, if you wanted to dance. With me. At the dance. But obviously I was \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine!\u201d she says.<\/p>\n
\u201cHuh?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine,\u201d she says. \u201cGet out. I\u2019ll dance with you. Go!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t have to,\u201d he says, as he backs out of the room. \u201cI\u2019ve just served you two big steaming platefuls of truth, you can \u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGet out!\u201d<\/i> she yells, and throws a shoe at his back and it dissolves into lightning as it touches him and he convulses and the back of his uniform smokes and he falls painfully against the wall as she slams the door behind him.<\/p>\n
A few other doors are open now. A few girls are peering out and looking at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd then there\u2019s that hat guy,\u201d Peter says vaguely. \u201cI bet that hat\u2019s one of them, too. I bet that the hat needs people.\u201d<\/p>\n
He gives the floor monitor an awkward shrug and he walks away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Peter stops by Andrea\u2019s room. He knocks. He waits. After a while she comes down the hall. \u201cI\u2019m not in there,\u201d she tells him. Gamely, he tries, \u201cAre you certain? We could check.\u201d \u201cThat is \u2014\u201d She hesitates. She looks at him. \u201cThat is attempting to be clever, to one who has known the greatest […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":4912,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[22],"tags":[],"series":[47],"class_list":["post-4977","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-chapter-1","series-the-storm-that-saw-itself"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/08\/Hat_3a_nobg.png","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4977","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=4977"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4977\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6180,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4977\/revisions\/6180"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/4912"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=4977"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=4977"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=4977"},{"taxonomy":"series","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/books.hitherby.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fseries&post=4977"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}