Vell Harlan and the Doomsday Dorms

After getting his things packed and ready to move, Vell had done a mental checklist of everything he might possibly need to do before he left. He had all his books, all his notes, had stashed his guns in the looper lair for next year -he had finished just about every task he could think. To the best of his ability, at least. He’d sent a message to wrap up one more loose end about an hour ago, and was still waiting on an answer.

His phone buzzed, and Vell snatched it out of his pocket to read Joan’s response.

redeyes02:

Yeah

I’d like to talk

vharlan03:

okay great!

okay

do you want to like

swing by the dining hall

or something

redeyes02:

im going to be packing kind of until the last minute

cant really leave my room

if you want to come by thats okay

but I get it if you don’t

Even though Vell had been the one to propose one last chat between him and Joan, he wasn’t entirely confident about going through with it. He felt he had to, though. Unresolved conflicts tended to linger in the minds of even the most stable people, and Joan was far from stable on a good day. Hopefully a polite goodbye and a sense of closure could prevent any further conflicts between the two of them. Or at least if (when) more conflict arose, Vell could confidently say it wasn’t his fault.

Vell put his phone aside for a moment. The last time he’d been in Joan’s room, he had died. Violently. At Joan’s hands. That was enough to make even Vell hesitate. But most of her unnatural scientific implements were probably boxed up by now. He’d stay by the door just in case.

After a few deep breaths, Vell had psyched himself up to talk to his ex. Who had killed him. Probably accidentally, but still. The circumstances of her abducting and experimenting on him definitely weren’t accidental. Vell realized thinking about these things had unpsyched himself and he had to start all over.

After repeating the cycle of pysch and unpsych a few times, Vell forced himself to at least step out of his dorm. The halls were packed with students carting belongings out of their dorms, and he had to sidestep several boxes and pieces of furniture on his short journey down the hall. In spite of the hustle and bustle, Joan’s dorm still felt isolated and quiet. Out of curiosity, Vell tried putting in the door code, and found it still worked. Joan hadn’t changed it, after all these months. He opened the door a crack, just enough to let his voice carry through.

“Joan?”

“Oop!”

The short, surprised cry followed the sound of something hitting the floor. Vell opened the door the rest of the way just to make sure Joan hadn’t hurt herself. She was scrambling to pick up a few pieces of equipment she’d dropped.

“Sorry,” Vell said.

“It’s fine, nothing fragile,” Joan said, as she picked up a carving tool. “You just, well, surprised me a bit.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. You just never responded,” Joan said. She packed a few of her things into a box. “I figured you got cold feet.”

“Nah. I just got in my own head a bit.”

“That does sound like you,” Joan said. She reached to the side and grabbed one more thing to put away. Vell’s heart began to pound in his chest as he saw Joan lift the arcanometric analyzer -the tool that had caused Vell’s explosive death so many months ago- and hold it in her hands for a second. This time, though, Joan just put in a box and sealed it away, oblivious to the damage the tool had done in another timeline.

“So,” Joan began again. “Did you just want to say goodbye, or…?”

“Sort of, yeah,” Vell said. “After everything that happened this year, uh, it feels weird to not at least say goodbye.”

“I guess,” Joan said. She folded the lid of a box closed and stood up, devoting her full attention to Vell. “If you’re not in a hurry, I wouldn’t mind saying a little more than goodbye.”

Vell tried to restrain himself from moving his hand closer to the doorknob. He had to remind himself that this version of Joan had no idea what she had done, or why she had done it. When she approached, she was doing so without any malice -at least that Vell knew of. She stopped when she was face to face with Vell, pretending not to notice the nervousness creeping into his eyes.

“I wanted to thank you, Vell,” she said quietly. “For being a good example. I think...I’m a better person for having known you.”

Her quiet words softened the edge of Vell’s anxiety, and he relaxed.

“And I wanted to apologize,” Joan continued.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything that happened,” Vell said.

“I’m not apologizing for that,” Joan said. Her red eyes focused on him again. “I’m apologizing for this.”

Vell sighed.

“Are you fucking kidding m-”

Then everything went black. But not thanks to Joan. Vell had been so fixated on the potential threat in front of him, he had failed to notice the very real threat appearing behind him. Principal Goodwell brushed the last few smoldering embers of the knockout spell off his fingertips and looked down at Vell.

“He really did come to you,” he said. Goodwell couldn’t quite believe it. He thought they’d need a much more elaborate bait to get Vell alone.

“I couldn’t believe it either,” Joan said. “Come on. Get him through the portal and let’s get this over with.”

The underground laboratory was full to bursting with esoteric scientific equipment. Joan had been helping Goodwell for a few days now, and still didn’t understand what half these machines did. The specific details of Goodwell’s plans didn’t interest her anyway. She had her own goals in mind.

“I’m glad we’re ahead of schedule, at least,” Joan said.

“Ahead of schedule isn’t always good,” Principal Goodwell said. He stepped away from his own console and looked at Vell. “That sleep spell will only last so long. He could wake up any minute.”

Joan glanced over her shoulder at Vell.

“He’s already awake,” she noted. She’d slept with him enough times to know what real sleep looked like. “He’s just pretending.”

With a heavy sigh, Vell opened his eyes. Goodwell pretended to be calm about this development. He’d put too much effort into this plan to see it undone by little flaws like Vell waking up too early. He distracted the loopers with concerts and races, waited for Leanne to graduate so she couldn’t punch her way through his defenses, and finally waited until a day without classes, without a loop, to spring his trap.

“So,” Vell said. He tensed his arms and tried to pull against the metal latches holding him to the lab table. “Any chance this is a surprise graduation party?”

Goodwell and Joan returned to their consoles.

“What, no banter? I need something to do here, you know,” Vell said.

“Is he always this sarcastic?” Goodwell asked.

“Sometimes,” Joan said.

“I get sarcastic when I’m upset,” Vell said. “And you can imagine why I might be upset right now.”

The two continued to ignore him. Vell tested his bonds again and grunted in frustration. They were solid steel, and locked tight.

“So I can assume what’s going on, I suppose, but it’d be nice if one of you could at least confirm my theory,” Vell said. “Aren’t you bad guys supposed to monologue their plans?”

“I’m not the villain here, Vell,” Joan said.

“Right, no, you’ve just got an innocent person strapped to a table to experiment on him against his will, that’s perfectly rational, normal, good guy behavior.”

“And what about you, huh?” Joan protested. “Hiding that mark on your back, never letting anyone else have a chance to solve the problems you can’t? How many people could that magic have helped by now, Vell?”

“Oh, yeah, there we go,” Vell said. He’d done this song and dance with Joan before, and had no desire to repeat it. “All comes down to the rune. As usual.”

“Of course it does,” Joan huffed. “That rune could save thousands of lives.”

Vell stared up at the blank ceiling above him and furrowed his brow. It took him some time to choose his next words, but he spat them out eventually.

“Is it about ‘thousands of lives’, Joan?” He asked. “Or is this about your sister’s life?”

Joan knocked her chair to the ground as she all but jumped out of it. By the time she had stormed over to Vell’s side and grabbed him by the shoulders, there was already sweat on her brow.

“How do you know about that?”

“I figured it out,” Vell said. “I’m good at that, remember? Between the way you act and what you’ve said…”

Vell allowed his voice to trail off. The reaction he’d expected and the reaction he was getting were too very different things. He’d expected agitation, sadness, maybe. But Joan looked afraid.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?”

“Shut up,” Joan demanded.

“Joan, I’m trying to understand this thing, I’m just -I’m trying not to be reckless,” Vell said. “I can help. We can figure this out. And we can do it the right way-”

“Just stop, Vell,” Joan said. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

“Well I’m going to try anyway,” Vell shouted. “Because it has to stop, Joan! I know you’re scared, I know you’re hurt-”

“And what are you supposed to know about hurt?”

“I mean, I died,” Vell said. “I did die, that’s a thing that happened. Let me tell you, dying: not great, physically or psychologically.”

Before his cycle of daily death and resurrection here on campus, Vell’s one-time brush with death had been a haunting experience. The fear, the doubt and confusion he’d felt after his first resurrection was still haunting him in a lot of ways.

“Everyone’s been hurt, Joan,” Vell said. “And everyone wants to believe they can stop their pain by pushing it on someone else, but it doesn’t work like that. It has to stop, Joan. You have to stop.”

Joan remained frozen in place.

“Would you shut him up back there?” Goodwell shouted. He hadn’t bothered to look up from his console at any of the commotion. The reminder of his presence worked to cut the tension that Joan felt in the moment.

“It’s all a waste of breath anyway,” Joan said. She stared straight back at Vell, locking her red eyes with his. “Like I said. There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

Joan turned her back on Vell and headed for the door.

“I had to fake packing up my arcanometric analyzer when he showed up early,” Joan said. “I need to go get it.”

“Now?” Goodwell said. “We agreed we wouldn’t leave until the job was done.”

“The job won’t get done unless I leave,” Joan said. “I’ve been working on this longer than you have, Goodwell. I’m going to see it through.”

Without giving him any more time for a counterargument, Joan grabbed the door. As she turned the handle, she locked eyes with Vell one more time.

Then Joan winked. And then she was gone.

In spite of the fact that Vell was strapped to a table and should probably be planning his escape, all Vell could think about was the wink. Why wink? Joan couldn’t possibly be flirting with him. Not under the circumstances. But if it was a conspiratorial wink, why was he still strapped to a table? Goodwell’s back was turned, Joan had the door open, she could’ve unlatched him and been out the door in seconds. Neither option made any sense to Vell.

He failed to consider an important third angle: that Joan was trying to help him, and doing a very, very bad job of it.

“So, Joan I get, she’s just sort of messed up,” Vell said. His confusion persisted, but on the off chance Joan actually was trying to help him, he wanted to reinforce Goodwell’s perception that she was evil. And if she actually was evil, well, Vell had nothing to lose by repeating the fact. “But what’s your angle here?”

“Oh right,” Goodwell said. “I imagine this betrayal comes as surprise.”

“Not really,” Vell said. “We sort of had you pegged as creepy from the first meeting.”

“What?” Goodwell said. For the first time he stood and turned to face Vell on the table, looking away from his screen.”

“Yeah, you got, uh, let’s call it ‘really weird vibes’,” Vell said. “Also it only takes like, one google search to find out you beat your wife.”

“I slapped her once,” Goodwell said, emphasizing ‘once’, as if he got some kind of mulligan on spouse abuse. The angry reaction caused him to lean back a little from the screen his work was displayed on. Vell’s eyes narrowed.

“Okay, sure,” Vell said. “Back to my question. What’s your real plan?”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to explain my master plan?”

“Uh...yes, actually,” Vell said. Goodwell snorted at him.

“Well I’m not,” he said, before leaning back to look at his monitor. Vell rolled his eyes. He wanted to get a look at Goodwell’s monitor, but the principal’s conspicuously wide body kept Vell from getting a good angle. He needed a distraction, something guaranteed to get the principal out of his seat.

“So, do you, uh...really think you can trust Joan?” Vell asked. “I mean, I couldn’t trust her, and she actually liked me. What makes you, you know, any better off?”

“The fact that I’m actually giving her what she wants,” Goodwell said. “You seem to understand her obsession, Harlan. You know how badly she wants this. If she thinks it’ll get her closer to her goal, she’ll never betray me.”

“So, long story. Short version: Principal Goodwell kidnapped Vell,” Joan said.

Luke crossed his arms and stared Joan down. Mostly thanks to Lee, and the message that Vell was in trouble, Joan had managed to gather all of his closest friends -or at least those who hadn’t already pakced up and gone home. That amounted to Harley, Lee, Vell’s roommates, and Freddy Frizzle. They had listened to her explanation of the situation with rapt attention, except for Renard, who was at the back of the room, occasionally glancing out the window.

“What? Why?”

“I don’t know what the real plan is, but he wants to do something with Vell,” Joan said.

“Does this have something to do with that rune on his back?”

“Yeah, it- He told you?” Joan said. In spite of the urgency, some offense crept into her voice. “He told you and not me?”

“He told us because of you,” Cane said accusingly. “To help explain why he didn’t feel safe around you.”

“On that note, Joan,” Harley said. “How exactly did you find out about Goodwell’s plan to kidnap Vell?”

Joan shrank back towards the door.

“I...kind of...helped him?”

“Right, I’ve heard-”

“I was always planning to do this,” Joan said. “I only ever went along with his plan so I could be here, warning you guys!”

“It seems like warning us before the kidnapping would be the better idea,” Renard said. The fact that he could figure it out meant it should’ve been obvious even to Joan.

“I- I needed to-”

“Get in a little research time with that stupid rune you’ve been chasing?” Harley asked.

“No! I didn’t even do any tests or anything, I swear.”

“So then this is just image rehab, then,” Cane said. “Because if you had just said ‘Oh hey, watch out for Goodwell’, then you wouldn’t get to pull off this dramatic rescue and be a big hero for everybody, would you?”

“I...No. I just didn’t think-”

“You usually don’t,” Harley said. “Thanks for the warning, Joan. If you want to help, tell us everything you know and then get out of our way.”

“I can help, I know what he’s doing, I know where he is,” Joan said.

“Yeah, that’s the ‘tell us everything you know’ part of what I said,” Harley said. Lee kept to the back of the crowd, and averted her gaze as Joan looked her way.

“I know I’ve made a few bad choices-” Joan admitted.

“Mostly bad choices,” Cane shrugged.

“Almost exclusively bad,” Luke said.

“Thanks, guys,” Joan said. “This is really helping.”

“It’s almost like all the people you’ve manipulated and lied to might have a grudge! Wow!” Harley said. “Now tell me where my friend is.”

“I’ll take you to him,” Joan said. “I’m trying to help, just trust me-”

“No!”

Harley stepped forward and jabbed a finger into Joan’s chest.

“I don’t trust you, Joan, and as long as you keep acting like this no one is ever going to! This is all you ever do! You expect people to give everything to you while you give nothing to them,” Harley snapped. “We can help Vell, but we don’t want or need your help to do it! If you really want to do the right thing here, just let go of your fucking ego for once and let us do this!”

Renard stepped between the two women and gently pushed them apart.

“I think we need to calm down a little and prioritize saving Vell,” Renard said.

“Yeah. But also, Harley’s right and Joan is a bad person,” Cane said. “Quick poll, we all agreed?”

Everyone but Lee and Freddy raised their hands.

“Freddy,” Cane said. Reluctantly, Freddy raised his hand. Joan looked at him like she’d been stabbed in the back.

“You’re not a very good neighbor,” Freddy said bashfully. “The loud music alone…”

“Hey, Vell’s the one who got me hooked on that Roxy chick, it’s not all my fault!”

“The volume is your fault,” Harley said. “See this is what I’m talking about, Joan, you just keep projecting and projecting, acting like nothing is ever really your fault! Just accept, for once, that you fucked up!”

The outrage in Joan’s body turned to exhaustion. She slumped backwards and leaned on the wall.

“Fine. Okay. Vell’s in the basement of the faculty building,” she mumbled. “Big metal door at the end of the right hallway. It’s sealed, and only Goodwell can let anyone in or out.”

“Thank you,” Harley said. “Anything else?”

“I don’t know. Goodwell’s lying to me about what he really intends to do, but I know he has a lot of neurology equipment.”

“Cane, that’s your specialty,” Luke said. “You and Freddy should probably be on point. He knows the most about random tech, he can fill in whatever you don’t know.”

Freddy nodded and took a step closer to Cane.

“Me and Renard can work on creating some kind of commotion that’ll get faculty involved and get Goodwell caught in the act,” Luke said. “The security bots are all under the principal’s control, but if we can get the human faculty suspicious of him, maybe they can get something done.”

“Hey, speaking of security bots, quick question,” Renard said. “Does the school have any drones disguised as birds, or something?”

“Not that I know of,” Harley said. “Why?”

“Because this bird has been staring at us since Joan showed up. You think Goodwell might be on to us?”

Renard looked out the window at the suspicious bird. It was a tropical parrot, unremarkable in the islands menagerie of colorful birds, but Renard couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about it. It had bright yellow eyes that seemed to be observing the world with uncanny clarity.

“I’ve never heard of any bird-drones,” Joan said.

“It’s just an ordinary bird, Renard, stay focused,” Luke said, trying to be patient in a situation where there was very little patience to go around. To get back on track, he looked at Harley and Lee. “And, of course, I assume you two are going to work on some weird angle that’s completely incomprehensible to us.”

“We’re actually at a bit of a loss,” Harley admitted. Goodwell had scheduled his master stroke for the day classes had ended, meaning there would be no daily apocalypse, and therefore no loop. They had no redo to work with, no way to do a “trial run” of their rescue. “If you’ve got any ideas…”

At that cue, Lee finally mustered the courage to step away from the wall and speak up.

“I’m going with Joan,” Lee said.

“Lee, we just talked-”

“You talked,” Lee insisted. “Maybe you don’t trust her, but I do. And I want her help.”

Lee crossed the crowd and took a stand next to Joan, crossing her arms defiantly even as they trembled slightly.

“We still don’t know if this isn’t some kind of distraction,” Cane said. “Or a trap. She did say she was working with Goodwell.”

“Then it’s a good thing we have different teams on it, isn’t it?” Lee said. “You all follow through on your plan, and I’ll work with Joan.”

“We’ll work with Joan,” Harley sighed. “I ain’t leaving you alone with her.”

Joan looked at Lee, and noticed that her hands still shook with uncertainty.

“I can get you two into the lab, but I don’t know what happens next,” Joan said. “I think backup is a good idea.”

Cane gave a stiff nod. He had a few ideas, but he didn’t want to discuss them around Joan. He pulled Freddy to a side room as Renard and Luke likewise broke off to make their own plans. Harley stayed, but still kept her distance from Joan.

“Boy, today is just not my day,” Joan said.

“You made your bed,” Harley snorted. Lee put a reassuring hand on Joan’s shoulder.

“But it’s not too late to...unmake it,” Lee assured her. “The metaphor doesn’t play out well, but you know what I mean.”

“Thanks for trying,” Joan sighed. “Let’s go save Vell.”

“From you,” Harley said. “Fun times. Helping my friend with the girl who got him kidnapped in the first place.”

Outside the window, a colorful bird ruffled it’s feathers. Her mismatched eyes had taken in all of the argument within the dorm, and while an entertaining prologue, it was time to move on to the next act. The bird took flight, to see more of the spectacle, and when the time was right, to play her part.