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For the first time since he had joined the PPDC, Newt felt like a rock star.
It wasn’t because he had helped stop the Kaiju invasion, or that he had pioneered the solution through sheer scientific awesomeness, although that helped. It wasn’t because the atmosphere in the Shatterdome was comparable to a celebration, complete with dance music over the loudspeakers and copious amounts of alcohol, or that he kept getting back-slapped and fist-bumped every five minutes.
No, it was because Hermann had hugged him. Twice.
Over a decade working with this man and Hermann had made it a point to keep their physical interactions to a minimum, even going so far as to draw a line across their sides of the lab. Even when the physicist was driving him absolutely bonkers, he had secretly hoped that one day they could reconcile and be close friends again, like they had in their written correspondence.
It looked like that time had finally come.
Thanking one of the Jaeger crew for the cold bottle of beer pressed into his hand, he turned and clinked it against Hermann’s. The two of them were standing close, as close they had been ever since Hermann had sidled in for that second hug. “Hell of a day, huh? I’ll bet Bowie never had this going on backstage.”
Hermann laughed, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and Newt felt his perpetual crush reignite in his chest. “Hopefully not, for his sake. If this is the rockstar lifestyle, I’ve had more than enough of it to last me a lifetime.”
“Yeah…” Newt took a swig of beer, then glanced at Hermann askance. “But it wasn’t all bad, was it?”
He was thinking of their drift together, specifically. In that brief moment of time before the Kaiju brain had revealed its masters’ nefarious plans, he had never felt closer to another person, or more understood.
“Oh, no,” Hermann replied dryly. “Spending several hours worried sick over you and the fate of the entire world was a true pleasure.” His gaze softened and he reached out, futilely brushing off a spot of dirt on Newton’s torn jacket. “No, not all bad. I hadn’t realized…”
“Yo! K-Sci Bros!”
Whatever Hermann was going to say was drowned out by the joyful call of one of Tendo Choi’s colleagues in LOCCENT as she jogged up to them. Maggie or Molly or something like that, Newt had only spoken to her a couple times in passing. “Ranger Hansen wants to meet with you two in the Marshall’s office. He’s getting calls from, like, every president and prime minister on the freakin’ planet and needs to come up with something to tell them before they lose it.”
Hermann stood at attention at once, as if just mentioning the Marshall was enough to invoke his sense of duty. “Of course, Ms. Levin. We’ll be there shortly.”
“Awesome.” She smiled at them widely, clearly tipsy from whatever was in her cup. “Nice work saving the world, by the way. I knew you nerds would come through in the clutch.” A new song started blaring from the Shatterdome’s sound system and she let out a whoop. “Aw, yeah, that’s my jam! ‘I put my hands up, they’re playing my song, the butterflies fly away—‘
As she wandered away, singing off-key, Newt couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “What is up with the music they’ve been playing? Early Miley Cyrus? Seriously?”
Hermann huffed and tugged the bottom of his sweater vest. “Agreed. We aren’t even in the United States, currently.”
His upper lip twitched, betraying his amusement, and Newt suddenly found himself overcome with the giggles. Hermann immediately joined in, each of them clutching at the other’s arm until they could gain some semblance of control.
“Ohhh, man…” Newt wiped a few tears from his eyes and gave Hermann a warm smile. “I really needed that…”
Hermann returned his smile with a fond one of his own, still holding onto Newt’s arm. Reluctantly, he let go and cleared his throat. “I suppose we ought to go assist Ranger Hansen with his endeavors. I can pull together a brief summary at the lab…”
“No, no… let me handle that. You keep drinking your beer and soaking up the praise.”
Hermann’s brows drew together in concern. “Are you sure? Your glasses…”
“Eh, it’s alright. I’ve got a spare at my desk.” Besides, Newt had a little plan brewing in the back of his mind that he needed to carry out by himself. He patted Hermann’s back encouragingly. “It’s your time to shine, man. Enjoy it.”
“Well, I rather thought that it was a group effort…” Hermann couldn’t hide the proud little look on his face, though. “Best not to dally, then. We’ll reconvene at the Marshall’s office shortly.”
“God, could you be any more British,” Newt said with such affection that for one horrified moment, he thought he might start crying. “I’ll, uh, yeah. See you soon.”
Quickly, he turned away and headed to the K-Science lab before he said something stupid. Yep, his crush on Herman Gottlieb had definitely returned, stronger than ever.
Good thing he already had a plan for that.
Sitting down at his computer, he ignored the document that he should have been working on and instead clicked on his music app. It had been a long time since he had made anyone a mixtape (well, technically a playlist), but the bad music playing in LOCCENT had given him the idea. Music was one of Newt’s love languages, and it seemed a low stakes way to share his feelings with Hermann. Lord knows if he actually tried to say anything, he’d only screw it up somehow.
That’s how they got to fighting in the first place, after all.
Besides, Hermann was not one to get all flashy with his emotions. A mixtape seemed the safest bet, all around.
Newt scrolled through his song collection, plucking out any appropriate choices that caught his eye. He avoided anything too punk or metal, knowing that Hermann wouldn’t enjoy them, but he knew electronica was acceptable to Hermann’s stuffy taste. So was a lot of popular music from the 1960s and 70s, which suited Newton just fine.
He ended the playlist with Queen’s “You’re my Best Friend” and saved it to his desktop. Satisfied, he sat back with a smile. Not a bad mixtape on such short notice. Maybe if he had time later, he could —
One of his eyes started watering, a painful pressure building behind it. Newt winced and took off his glasses. He probably should have bothered looking for his spare pair, staring at a computer screen through a cracked lens was not a great idea. Hopefully this wasn’t the onset of a migraine. Grabbing a nearby tissue, he dabbed at the affected eye and starting rooting around his desk drawers for his other pair of glasses.
When he pulled the tissue away, it was soaked in blood.
“…uh. That’s not good,” Newt managed to say before his mind slid into absolute darkness.
~*~
Hermann did not stay in LOCCENT for very long, once Newton had left. It was nice to participate in the collective enthusiasm of the other Shatterdome employees, but he found that he missed Newton’s company terribly. Whether that was due to the after-effects of the drift, or their long and tumultuous history together, it didn’t feel right to be celebrating without him.
Besides, walking to the Marshall’s office was a stark reminder that their victory was bittersweet. Lives had been lost, including Ranger Hansen’s son. Hermann could see the lines of grief etched onto the man’s face, even as he did his best to remain professional.
“Dr. Gottlieb,” he said with a nod. “Where’s your partner?”
“He’s working on a data summary for you,” Hermann replied. “Ms. Levin said that you’re being contacted by multiple political leaders?”
Ranger Hansen glanced over at the communication board on Marshall Pentecost’s desk. Every button was lit up. “Yeah. And the press. You think they’d give us a few bloody minutes to ourselves first…”
A quiet whine sounded from below the desk. Ranger Hansen crouched down and patted his pet bulldog, Max, who had not left the man’s side. “Tell you what, let’s take a walk down to your lab, Doctor. We could use the exercise.”
“Certainly, sir.” Hermann turned and gritted his teeth as a shock of pain traveled up his hip. He had abandoned his cane in the rush to return to the Shatterdome, and was now feeling the effects of walking around without the additional support.
Ranger Hansen must have noticed, before he went around the side of the Marshall’s desk and picked up a sleek metal cane that he offered to Hermann. “It was St— the Marshall’s. He used it on his bad days. He’d want you to have it.”
Hermann stared at the cane for a moment before accepting it reverently. He had always deeply admired Marshall Pentecost’s work ethic, and learning that he had bad days, as well, only increased his esteem for the Shatterdome’s leader.
Former leader, he reminded himself. Another casualty in the war. The loss hit him surprisingly hard, and he leaned on the gifted cane for support. Thank you, Ranger Hansen. I… I don’t know if this is an appropriate time to say this, but I am terribly sorry for your loss.”
Ranger Hansen almost look surprised for a moment, before smiling sadly. “I appreciate it,” he said quietly, before his professional look returned. “Lead the way, Doctor.”
Hermann nodded and headed out into the corridor, his hip complaining much less now that he had stable support again.
Thank God he hadn’t lost Newton, he thought to himself as Ranger Hansen and Max followed. There was no way he would have handled that with the same level of composure.
~*~
Newton Geiszler was dead.
At least, that was the only conclusion that Newt could come to. How else was he to explain the fact that he was somehow hovering over his own body?
His own, very still, very not breathing body.
He had read a book about out-of-body experiences back in college, but none of the accounts captured the sheer wrongness he was feeling. He shouldn’t be able to see himself from this angle — and what an unflattering angle it was. His head was slumped on his desktop, blood from his eye and nose congealing in a puddle near the keyboard. His eyes were blank and glassy, and his skin far too pale to be considered normal.
Being dead should have caused a panic within him, but all he felt was awkward and a little grossed out.
How long was he supposed to stay here? Shit, he wasn’t a ghost, was he? He didn’t even believe in ghosts, how could he be stuck as one?
“…have to tone down the math a little, Doctor. Not all of us have a degree in quantum physics.”
“I’ll do my best, Ranger Hansen, but no promises.”
Shit, that was Hermann’s voice coming from down the hall. The panic that had been strangely absent earlier suddenly hit him full force. Hermann was going to walk in here and find him slumped over dead and it was going to be just like last time except worse because he’d have to watch Hermann freak out over his dead body and he wouldn’t be able to —
Newton’s body sat up and took in a sharp breath of air.
Ah! Newt screamed. Jump-scared by his own body! What the fuck was happening?
Hermann appeared in the doorframe, along with Ranger Hansen and Hansen’s dog. “Newton, did you finish writing the — Newton?“ He hurried over as best he could, concern clouding his features. “What happened?” he demanded worriedly. “You’ve had another nosebleed. And your eye —“
Newt’s body stared at him for a moment, glassy-eyed, before some color returned to his face. “Must have passed out for a second. It’s okay, I’m fine.”
“You are most certainly not fine,” Hermann replied sharply, although his hand was gentle as it plucked another tissue from Newt’s desk and reached out to blot away some of the blood on his face. “You might have had another seizure, or something worse. We need to get you to the medical bay.”
Newt’s body batted his hand away irritatedly. “I told you, I’m fine, Hermann. Jesus, stop nagging me.”
Hermann’s worry couldn’t hide the crestfallen expression on his face. Hermann! Newt shouted, finally over his shock and furious at whatever douchebag was currently controlling his body and hurting his friend’s feelings. Hermann, that’s not me!
Nobody heard him, but at least Ranger Hansen came over, too. “Dr. Gottlieb’s right, you need to go to the medical bay.” Newt’s body made a sound of protest, but Hansen didn’t budge. “I’m the acting Marshall currently, and that’s a direct order.”
“Ugh, fine. Bunch of worrywarts around here.” Newt’s body put his glasses back on and stood up. Despite the unpleasant amount of blood smeared on his face, he didn’t seem to have any trouble moving around.
No! Don’t go with him! That’s not me! Newt watched helplessly as they began to walk away. Hermann! Hansen! Max!
He tried knocking something off his desk, or somehow spooking the dog, as that seemed to work in the movies, but to his horror, he realized that he couldn’t even do that. He was nothing more than a free-floating consciousness, unable to do anything except observe his surroundings.
Newt’s body was the last to leave the laboratory. Hey! Hey, asshole! he yelled as he floated after him. Give me back my body!
To his shock, his body turned and smiled at him.
And then, for the second time in under an hour, he succumbed to the darkness.
~*~
Days passed, and Newt was still outside of his body.
At least, he assumed that it had been days. Every time he got close to his body and tried wresting back control, he’d be pushed back into unconsciousness. Worse yet, when he came to, it felt like a little bit of himself had been chipped away, or burned off into nothingness. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could try, at this rate, without destroying himself in the process.
But Newt was not a quitter. Reckless and foolhardy, yes, but not a quitter. And not stupid, either. If he couldn’t get into his body through sheer force of will, then he’d simply have to find another way to make his existence known, at the very least to warn the rest of the Shatterdome that an imposter was among their ranks, and then, hopefully, to kick out said imposter and put Newt back where he belonged.
Expanding his awareness, he felt along the edges of his consciousness. If he had to describe it, he’d compare it to a neural network, or a gossamer web with pulses of electricity running along its silvery cables. Those connected to his body were torn and frayed, much to his dismay.
But there was another connection. Faint and shimmery, it extended beyond his consciousness to a place he couldn’t see, but somehow felt warm and familiar.
Without another thought, he followed it to its source.
~*~
Hermann sat on his neatly made bed and stared listlessly at the door to his quarters. He was supposed to be at the lab, working on another summary for a press conference that afternoon, but after getting dressed and putting on his shoes, he had little desire to stand up and continue his morning.
He shouldn’t be like this. He should be eager to be analyzing the reams of data that were collected when the Breach was sealed, and excited to share his insights with the rest of the world. He should be proud that his work for the past several years was being acknowledged and lauded by the scientific community at large.
Instead, he felt like lying down and going back to sleep.
It was because of what happened with Newton. His relief that the medical scans did not show any brain trauma was replaced with confusion when the other man proceeded to have little to do with him over the next few days. Newton stayed on his side of the lab and only spoke to him when necessary, which was uncharacteristic of him even when they had been on bad terms.
Confusion gave way to heartbreak. The truth was, he cared about Newton a great deal. He always had. But Hermann had been hurt before, and after their disastrous first meeting in person, he had thought it better to keep those feelings to himself.
But he couldn’t stop caring about Newton. Reckless, foolish Newton, willing to drift with a piece of Kaiju cortex on little more than a scientific hunch. Willing to do it again in an attempt to save the world. Hermann had to step in and drift with him.
It had been worth it. To save the world, and to save Newton.
And afterwards, with their arms around one another, Hermann thought that maybe all those feelings that he had tried to hide were not only seen, but reciprocated.
What a fool he had been.
Once the adrenaline of closing the Breach had worn off, Newton must have thought about what he’d seen inside Hermann’s mind and decided that it wasn’t worth his time. What would a rockstar scientist want with a stodgy mathematician, anyway?
The rejection hurt. It explained why he didn’t want to leave his quarters.
But it didn’t explain the voices.
One voice in particular. Newton’s. It had started nattering at him shortly after he put on his shoes. Faintly, at first, but now Hermann could barely hear himself think over the constant chatter.
Hermann! Hermann, c’mon! I know you can hear me! Herms! Herrrrms. Don’t make me start singing ‘Henry the Eighth, I am’ at you. Do you remember that scene in Ghost? Have you seen Ghost? I remember liking it, but I saw it a long time ago, it probably hasn’t held up very well. Hey, do me a favor and log onto Rotten Tomatoes and see how fresh it is.
He had no idea why he was hearing Newt’s voice. Newton hadn’t died, he hadn’t even left the Shatterdome. Can a broken heart lead to auditory hallucinations? Or was it some sort of delayed reaction to all the stress of the final days of the Kaiju war?
Hermann, did you ever think about the fact that we look the way we do because one fish managed to drag itself out of the ocean before anyone else? That if we evolved from flounder, we’d have one eye migrating to the other side of our head? Do you think a Picasso flounder would have drawn people normally?
Whatever the reason, it was extremely annoying.
Hey, Hermann, your dad’s German, right? So if you were a mythological sea creature, would that make you Hermann the German Merman?
“Newton Geiszler! For Heaven’s sake, stop talking!”
Hermann clapped a hand over his mouth, horrified that he had given in and yelled at his hallucinations. Unfortunately, that only made them continue.
Oh, thank God, I was starting to worry that you really couldn’t hear me! Listen, Hermann, we need to — where are you going?
“To the medical bay.” Hermann had stood up and grabbed his cane. “I’ve obviously gone mad.”
No no no no no, Hermann, don’t do that, dude. You’re not crazy, it really is me.
Hermann made a face. “That’s just what a hallucination would say.”
I’m not a hallucination! Remember when you found me after I passed out at my desk? When I came to, someone else was controlling my body. I think… I think it might be one of the precursors. It must have snuck in during our drift with the Kaiju brain. We’re all still connected somehow, that’s how I was able to come to you.
“Your… your body is possessed?”
Yes! That’s why he’s acting like such an asshole. Ignoring you, I mean.
Hermann’s chest fluttered a moment in hope before dejection set in once more. His mind was playing tricks on him, trying to convince him that Newton’s rejection was not intentional. “No, this is obviously because of — of stress or something along those lines. I need to be examined.”
Wait! What if I told you something that only I would know? That would prove it was me, wouldn’t it?
“No, it wouldn’t. We drifted, Newton. I have your memories in my head, I could simply be using those as fuel for my hallucinations.”
Newton’s voice sighed. God dammit, Hermann, why do you have to be so smart… okay. Okay, how about this. What if I tell you about something that I did after we drifted? Something you didn’t see?
Hermann frowned to himself. “Then… then I suppose I would have to believe you. But I’d need to find proof to believe it.”
Oh, I got proof, dude. Go to the lab and log into my computer. You’ll see.
Hermann hesitated at the door, then shrugged and left his quarters. He could always visit the medical bay once he followed this silly line of inquiry to its disappointing conclusion.
~*~
Sitting down at Newton’s desk, Hermann jiggled the mouse to wake the monitor. “What am I looking for, exactly?”
A playlist that I made for you in the music app. Newton rattled off the song titles while Hermann attempted to log into the computer and failed.
“Did you change the password?” Hermann asked, only half-listening.
Huh? No. Why would I need to change it?
“It doesn’t matter.” Hermann logged in as an administrator and reset the password. He’d done this many times before, as Newton had a terrible habit of forgetting them.
Back on Newton’s screen, he clicked on the little music icon. Queen’s “You’re my Best Friend” began to play on the speakers.
Check the timestamp, Newt’s voice said.
Hermann did. The playlist was created after the Breach was closed.
This voice wasn’t a hallucination.
“You made me a mixtape…” Hermann said softly, a lump in his throat.
Yeah… I had to work around your old man tastes, but I did it. We have more in common than I thought.
Hermann chuckled quietly. “Yes, I suppose we do.” But his relief quickly gave way to alarm as the implications hit him full force. “Mein Gott. Newton, this is terrible. We have to find a way to fix this.”
Well, the good news is, I have a couple of ideas, but the bad news is that we’ll need to subdue my body somehow and I don’t think the precursor is going to like that very much.
“I can inform Marshall Hansen, but he’ll want evidence. Perhaps there’s something in your MRI scans that the radiologist overlooked.” Hermann went to pull up Newton’s medical records, but something else caught his eye. A program was running in a minimized window. Hermann enlarged it and gasped at what he saw.
That was his Breach data. It was being analyzed and cross-referenced, the numbers scrolling past the screen at an accelerated rate.
“Oh, no…”
What? What is it? Tell me what I’m seeing, I’m not as fluent in math as you.
“The precursor is trying to re-open the Breach.”
WHAT?
Hermann winced. “You don’t need to shout, Newton, you’re already in my head.”
Sorry, sorry… but seriously, what? Is that even possible?
“Yes, at least in theory. The Breach functions like a wormhole, and their end was destroyed. Our end, however, remains intact.”
Yeah, but how would they even go about doing it? We don’t have that level of technology on Earth.
“Not yet, we don’t.” Hermann shuddered at the possibility. “It could be as simple as calculating the dimensions of our end of the Breach, and then —"
—building a new key to unlock it. Newton sounded as scared as Hermann had ever heard him. They have everything they need in this Shatterdome, Hermann. We have to stop them as soon as possible.
“Agreed.” Hermann reached for his cane. “I’ll alert the Marshall.”
“Alert him about what, Hermann?”
Newton — no, the precursor — was standing by the laboratory doors, watching him with a cold, contemptuous smile.
Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Hermann, be careful!
“Ah…” Hermann tapped a quick keyboard shortcut, minimizing the data analysis window. “Just some changes I made to my presentation this afternoon to the press. Nothing to trouble yourself with, old boy.”
Newton raised his eyebrows, looking almost amused as he closed the distance between them. “Yeah? And you’re doing that at my desk?”
Hermann tried his best for a haughty expression. “The desk is yours, but the computer is a shared PPDC resource. I didn’t think you mind. Now, if you’ll excuse me —“
He turned in the chair and attempted to stand, but Newton placed a hand on his chest and shoved him right back into it.
“As it happens, old boy, I do mind. I don’t think you were working on your presentation at all, I think you were sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Nonsense, Newton, I —“
Newton gripped a handful of his sweater vest, leaning down into his space and smiling at him coldly. “The work’s getting to you, isn’t it? Maybe it was all those sleepless nights, maybe it was the drift. Maybe you just couldn’t stand sharing a lab with me anymore. Either way, you’re starting to crack. You’re hearing voices, you’re finding conspiracies where there are none. You’ve become a threat to yourself, and to the Shatterdome. At least, that’s what I’m going to tell the Marshall if you go running to him about what you think you saw. Understand?”
Hermann stared into those dark, malicious eyes. How did he ever believe, for a moment, that this was the man that he loved?
“You’ll never get away with this.” Hermann’s voice was sharp as a razor’s edge.
A disbelieving laugh escaped Newton’s lips. “You humans. You never learn, do you?”
He let go of Hermann’s sweater vest and lunged for his throat instead.
Hermann twisted his body and pushed the imposter away. Newton stumbled, and Hermann lashed out with his cane, catching the possessed biologist in the knee. A second, swift strike caught him on the side of his head, knocking his glasses to the ground. Newton’s imposter collapsed to the ground, an almost baffled expression on his face as he laid in an unresponsive heap.
Whoa, Hermann! Where’d you learn moves like that?
Hermann smoothed the wrinkles out of his sweater vest while he caught his breath. “Kendo lessons. My father thought they would toughen me up.” He grimaced. “I suppose I’ll be obligated to thank him later…”
At his feet, Newton’s body groaned softly.
“Right now, dear Newton, I would very much like to hear this plan of yours to return yourself to your body, while we have the opportunity.”
~*~
It took a bit of improvising and a lot of duct tape, but eventually, Hermann had Newton’s body secured to a chair and a Pons unit strapped to his head. Hermann was making the final adjustments to the headset when Newton’s eyes fluttered open. Tugging on the tape at his wrists, the imposter realized quickly what had happened to him and glared menacingly at the mathematician.
“Kinky, Dr. Gottlieb. Bet you’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“Hardly.” Hermann shoved a bite guard into the imposter’s mouth, effectively silencing him. “That, however, I’ve wanted to do from the moment we met.”
C’mon, man, Newt’s voice groaned. I’m right here.
Hermann examined the Pons device, making sure that all the contacts were in place. “I don’t know about this, Newton. A recursive drift can be extremely dangerous.”
Trust me, it’ll work. I’m a doctor.
“You’re not that kind of doctor.”
I did the research, Hermann. This exact setup has been used on Jaeger pilots for therapeutic purposes.
“Yes, when they’ve needed to be pulled out of their own memories, not disentangled from someone else’s.” Hermann looked over at the cart of equipment from which he had retrieved the necessary Pons components. “Let me find another headset and I can —“
No! Newt’s voice cracked on his exclamation. Hermann, they’re already in my head. Think of what might happen if they get into your head, too!
He made a good point, but Hermann dithered anyway, trying to find something else he could say that would convince Newton that he didn’t have to do this alone.
Hermann. Newt’s voice was surprisingly gentle. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think I had a decent chance of getting control back of my body. But, um… on the outside chance that it doesn’t —
“Don’t finish that sentence,” Hermann snapped as he scooped up the control switch. “You’ve convinced me. If you say it will work, it will work.”
The alternative was too terrible to contemplate.
Okay, I’ll, uh… I’ll save what I was going to say for later, then. Just, whatever you do, don’t untie me until you’re sure that it’s me.
“Of course, Newton. On your mark.”
The imposter in Newton’s body stared at him balefully, as if in challenge.
On three, then. One… two… three!
Hermann glared right back and flipped the switch.
~*~
Newt was lying on concrete.
At least, that’s what it felt like against his cheek. Which was a relief, at first, to feel anything instead of that strange, floaty nothingness that had been his reality for the past few days. Slowly, he sat up and looked around, but it was dark and his vision was blurry. Instinctively, he touched his face for his glasses and found them absent.
Well, that explained the blurriness, at least.
He patted the ground for his glasses, hoping that they were somewhere nearby. There was a muffled sort of sound all around him, like a half-forgotten dream, but he ignored it in favor of his search. Once he could actually see where he was, he’d figure out the rest.
The wall opposite him suddenly exploded.
Newt raised an arm up, protecting himself from dust and debris as he continued his frantic search. Tiny blue lights swam in his vision as his fingertips closed around the frames of his glasses. Hurriedly, he slipped them on, trying to blink away the afterimages.
Except they weren’t afterimages. They were the bioluminescent spots on Otachi’s tongue.
Newt was back in the Kaiju shelter, hunted down like prey by Otachi through his connection to the hive mind. His insides twisted with the same combination of terror and fascination that had frozen him to the spot the first time around. He watched helplessly as a tendril elegantly unfurled towards him until it was mere inches from his face.
Was it possible to die in a memory? Newt jerked away at the last second, not wanting to find out.
“What’s the matter, Newton? Isn’t this what you wanted?” Otachi’s tongue pulled back far enough to allow a figure to step into the shelter. “To get up close and personal with the Kaiju that you’d been studying all those years?”
The voice was like a chorus, a layering of sounds into an unholy harmony. But the face — that was all too familiar.
“You’re appearing in my head as me, dude?” A bit of Newt’s fear bled out of him, enough that he could force himself to get to his feet. “That’s great, real original. Not like that hasn’t been done a million times before.”
The precursor sneered. “Your feeble human mind couldn’t handle my true appearance.”
“Fair enough,” Newt muttered. One of Otachi’s tongue tendrils lashed at him and he staggered backwards, heart pounding in fright. “Look, whatever you’re trying to do, it’s not going to work. Hermann’s onto you, and I’m —“
“Your partner is an inconvenience that can be easily dealt with once I’m done with you.” The precursor smiled, far too wide for Newton’s face, a glimpse of the otherworldly monstrosity underneath. “You know, when I first took control of your body, your fascination for our creations intrigued me. I thought perhaps that you might have more potential than a mere conduit for my kind. But I can see now that you’re as pathetic and short-sighted as the rest of your species.”
More of the shelter fell away, exposing Newt to Otachi’s massive form and the Hong Kong skyline above. Newt scanned the horizon, but there was no Gipsy Danger coming to rescue him. It was only him, the Kaiju that had nearly killed him, and the precursor wearing his body like an ill-fitting mask.
“Beautiful, isn’t she? She was a simple creature, once, but we elevated her into a masterpiece. Your Jaegers are crudely constructed playthings in comparison. It won’t take long to rebuild what was destroyed and deliver Earth to its rightful masters.”
Newt looked up at Otachi, her lizard-like head tilted towards the precursor like an obedient dog. She was beautiful, but that admiration was bittersweet, tainted not only by his fear, but the knowledge that her beauty was forged through unfathomable pain and suffering.
“All this time, we thought we were fighting the Kaiju.” Newt clenched his fists, even as the rest of him trembled in outrage. “But you’re the real monster.”
The precursor scoffed. “Like you wouldn’t have done the same, if you had an ounce of our intellect.” He waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re going to be trapped here, in this memory, while I finish what my people started.”
He raised a hand, and Otachi turned her head towards Newt. She let out a massive roar, tongue unfurling into a writhing mass. Newton scrambled backwards, but the rubble blocked off any means of escape.
“This is just a memory,” Newt whimpered to himself. “It’s just a memory. It’s not real, it’s not real.”
“Does that matter? We’re in your mind, after all.” The precursor laughed before adding disgustedly, “It’s barely fit to house me. Maybe I’ll build myself a new cortex, while I’m at it.”
Otachi lumbered closer, her tongue tendrils swirling all about. Suffering or not, she was going to eat him — or worse — if he didn’t do something.
A thought broke through his paralyzing fear.
“Yeah, actually it does matter.” Newt took a shuddering breath. “Because we’re in my mind.”
“What are you talking about?” The precursor demanded irritably, as if annoyed that Newt hadn’t been eaten yet.
“I’m talking about the fact that we aren’t in your vast hivemind of over-inflated egos. We’re in my mind, which means that I’m the one in control.”
“You fool,” the precursor hissed. “You aren’t in control of anything.”
Newt gave the precursor the cockiest smile he could muster. “Then how come Otachi isn’t attacking me?”
The precursor looked up at the Kaiju. Otachi had retracted her tongue and was watching both Newt and the precursor in confusion. “What… how did you…?” They shifted their glare onto Newt, eyes burning in fury. “You simple-minded little scrap of —“
“Hey, hey. Watch who you’re calling simple-minded.” Newt took a step forward, his confidence growing. “I have six doctorates. I didn’t need your fancy technology to drift with a Kaiju brain, or to learn your dirty little secrets. And I don’t need it to tell you to get the fuck out of here, either.”
“You are nothing but vermin.” The precursor’s disguise wavered, and Newt’s stomach turned at the sight, but he held fast, regardless. This was his brain that the precursor was trying to hijack, and Newt wasn’t going down without a fight.
“No, I think you’re the vermin. You over-populated your own planet so you’re trying to take over someone else’s, not matter how much suffering you cause.”
Otachi rumbled, deep within her throat, and turned her head towards the precursor.
“Do you know the problem with building a weapon, dude? There’s always the potential for it to be used against you.”
Otachi opened her mouth, her tongue lashing out and ensnaring the precursor in its tendrils. The alien had no time to even scream before it was pulled into the Kaiju’s mouth and swallowed whole.
Newt’s legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground. Oh, fuck. He couldn’t believe that worked.
Laughing shakily, he ran a hand through his hair and peered up at Otachi. She was watching him without malice, her tail swishing lazily behind her. Newt wondered what she would have looked like if the precursors hadn’t meddled with her species’s DNA.
Probably just as beautiful.
“I’m sorry about what they did to you,” he said quietly. “But at least you’re free now.”
Otachi bobbed her head once, then spread her bat-like wings and took to the sky, circling ever upward until she disappeared beyond the stars.
Newt smiled and watched her go.
~*~
For the last several minutes, Hermann had been pacing back and forth in front of Newton’s unconscious body. It was killing his hip, but he couldn’t simply sit and wait for the neural handshake to disengage. He periodically checked the equipment’s levels, wishing that he could do something more than simply fret over Newton like a mother hen.
At least it wasn’t like the time he found Newton’s body on the floor, seizing after his drift with the Kaiju brain. If one ignored the Pons headset and duct tape, it was almost as if Newton had dozed off in his chair. But the quiet gave Hermann time to think about what might be happening in his friend’s brain. Was he evicting the precursor? Or was the alien’s hold on his mind too great?
What would Hermann have to do, then, if the latter came to pass?
Newton’s face twitched, his eyes squinting open. “Mfrghn,” he said, gaze roving around before locking onto Hermann.
Hermann rushed over and removed the mouthguard. Newton swallowed and smacked his lips a couple times, but Hermann held up a hand before he could say anything. “Tell me something that will prove it’s you, Newton. I can’t untie you otherwise.”
Newton watched him with soft, warm eyes. Surely those were not the eyes of a malignant alien, but Hermann had to be sure. He waited with bated breath as the other man considered his words.
“I’ve given it some thought, and I think that a flounder Picasso would draw people normally, but he’d probably still have a blue period.”
Hermann’s cane clattered to the ground and he used both hands to remove the Pons headset, then gently cupped Newton’s face in his hands. “You’re back,” he said, voice flooded with emotion.
Newton, the cocky bastard, grinned and winked at him. “Told you it’d work.”
Impulsively, Hermann drew his face down and pressed his lips to Newton’s, overwhelmed with affection for this ridiculous little man. Newton made a sound of surprise before returning the kiss enthusiastically, and Hermann’s heart sang with joy.
A wolf whistle rang through the laboratory.
Hermann broke off the kiss abruptly and turned to the source of the noise. Tendo Choi was standing by the open bay doors, a cup of coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. Hermann had shut them earlier, but Mr. Choi must have let himself in using the Marshall’s code.
“Sorry to interrupt, fellas,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry. “You two were MIA at breakfast and the Marshall was getting antsy so he set me to retrieve you.”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Hermann and Newt blurted out simultaneously.
Mr. Choi raised an eyebrow as his gaze took in Newton’s duct-taped limbs. “Yeah, I’m kinda hoping it is, because the alternative is a little disconcerting.”
“No, Tendo, it — it really isn’t what it looks like.” Newt sighed. “You need to get the Marshall.”
~*~
The press conference was postponed.
Newton spent several hours in the medical bay, repeating all his medical scans. He did this while willingly restrained, which seemed to convince the Marshall more than anything that the biologist was telling the truth. The whole time, Hermann never left his side, holding his hand whenever possible.
A comparison of the scans showed some anomalous activity on the earlier one that had been erroneously labeled an artifact of the MRI’s magnetic field. Whatever it was, it was gone, and after a battery of psychological tests, Newton was free to go.
Hermann handed over whatever evidence they had of the precursor’s meddling. With only a few days occupying Newton’s body, the precursor hadn’t accomplished much, but it was enough to concern the Marshall, who classified all the data and asked Hermann for a more detailed report by the end of the week.
It was late in the evening by the time Hermann accompanied Newt to his quarters. He had two boxed meals from the mess hall, one of which he handed to the other man as they both sat down on his bed, the only clear space available.
“Thanks, man. Never have I so badly wanted to eat cafeteria food.”
“Likewise.” Hermann smiled at him before digging into his meal. They ate in companionable silence for a while, although there were definitely things that Newt wanted to talk about. That kiss, for one, although that probably wasn’t the best icebreaker.
“So, um… what a day, huh?”
Hermann gave him an incredulous look, then smiled fondly. “Yes, it was. How are you feeling about it, my dear?”
Newt’s spine tingled at term of affection. “Relieved that it’s over, mostly. I owe you big time, Hermann. You saved my life.”
“You were the one who pestered me until I believed it was you, Newton.”
“Yeah, but you already knew that I was acting funny.” He nudged Hermann’s side affectionately. “It’s not like you would have, I dunno, let a whole decade go by without realizing that something wasn’t right.”
“No, but…” Hermann set aside his dinner and folded his hands in his lap contritely. “I might have jumped to some unfavorable conclusions after you started treating me so coldly.”
Newt’s gut sank. Quickly, he also set aside his dinner and took both of Hermann’s hands. “Hey. I never got to tell you what I wanted to tell you, right before I entered the drift.”
Hermann looked at him, his brown eyes wide and hopeful.
“I love you, Hermann. I have for a long time, even if I was too much of a chicken shit to tell you. And then I got to see inside that big, beautiful brain of yours, and I loved you even more. There’s not a part of you I don’t love, not the bickering, not your grandpa clothes, not the annoying way you slurp your tea —“
“You were going to tell me all this before you drifted?” Hermann interrupted with a little laugh.
“Shut up, I’m not done.” Newt’s heart was pounding like a madman’s. “I don’t know if we’ll ever act normal around one another. We’ll probably keep arguing a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. But I’m willing to see where this goes. Y’know, if… if you are, too.”
“My dear boy.” Hermann gave him a beautiful smile. “I’d be a fool not to.”
This time, Newt initiated the kiss.
And this time, there were no more interruptions.