Realizing he couldn't do much about the impending visit, having failed to get Casimir's phone number, Hutch took off running, stopping when he found himself standing at the door of Ren's home.
Structurally identical in every way to his own, it was the exterior color, faded lime green with mint trim, and the slightly updated interior décor, that set it apart.
Opening the storm door, he knocked on the house door. Ren answered a few moments later, and looked him up and down.
"Not going to happen," Ren said, frowning.
"No worries. I'm not here to ask you to go running with me. I'm here, because he called. Can I come in?"
"Hell yeah! I want to hear everything," he exclaimed, stepping aside to let him inside, his mom yelling from the couch.
"Ren, language!"
"Sorry mom."
"Morning, Momma Dodge," Hutch remarked, closing the door before prying off his shoes and placing them on the doormat.
Stephanie, or momma Dodge, as she was known around the park, was a kinder woman, a year older than Cherry. She was thinner than she ought to be, and drank more than she should, but was as good of a mother to Renaldo, as was possible for her to be, after losing Ren's father in the same accident that left her in the hospital for three weeks. While she had survived the accident, she was left with several scars, and suffered with sporadic pain in her back and legs. She was pretty in her youth, but time and circumstances had begun to take their toll. Neglecting her health to splurge on trips to the salon, and upkeep on the manicures and pedicures. Her eyes told the story of her grief. Her loneliness written in the fine lines and dark circles, from the empty bed and sleepless nights. Hutch's heart ached for her, now that he understood what it felt like to be torn away from the love of your life.
"Morning, Jules. How's your mom?"
"Still sleeping, but no complaints yet this week," he replied, when an idea struck him. "You should give her a call this afternoon. She said something about wanting to get her nails done before the holidays. I suspect she'd like the company."
Ren's mother, Stephanie, hummed and hawed, looking at her own nails. "Yeah, probably couldn't hurt to get them filled."
Hutch nudged Ren and motioned for him to be encouraging.
"You should go. You deserve to be pampered for an afternoon."
Hutch smiled and gave him a thumbs up.
"As long as you to promise not to get up to any trouble, I'll give her a call in a little bit to see what she's thinking."
"Alright, we'll be in my room planning to take over the world," Ren remarked, tugging at Hutch's arm.
"I promise to keep his aspirations in check."
"Oh, let the boy dream, Jules. It keeps him motivated," she replied, smiling at him from over her shoulder as Ren pulled him into his room, and promptly closed the door.
"Okay, what was that about?" Ren asked as he straightened out his blue bed spread and sat down.
"I really need my mom to leave the house for the afternoon and that just came to me in the moment," Hutch explained as he took off his hat and ran his hand back through his hair.
"Why?"
"Because I fuc…" he lowered his voice, "because I fucked up. Casimir is coming here. Today."
Ren stared at him, his jaw hanging slightly open. "Ah… that… why?"
"I don't know," Hutch replied, flopping into Ren's desk chair. "I barely slept last night, and then he called, and we talked, and then he said he would be here by three, and hung up. And I can hardly even recall what we talked about."
"Okay, take a breath. It's not even noon yet. You have time to prepare or to figure a way out of this. Did you try calling him back?"
Hutch sighed. "I didn't get his number."
"Star six nine?"
"Is that code for something?"
"Never mind," Ren said, rolling his eyes. "And why don't you want your mother to meet him?"
"Him being a homicidal lunatic isn't enough of a reason?"
"Lunatic seems like a bit of a stretch," Ren remarked, shifting back on his bed, and pulling up his legs. "You did tell me he was called the Strategist. Not really something a lunatic would be known for."
"So, not the point," Hutch replied, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Look, I know what my mother's like. The moment she opens her mouth, he's going to know she's a stripper."
"Did you really never tell him about your mom?" Ren remarked, seemingly shocked by the revelation.
"Of course not. I only told Ghan'dono and Kahlala the truth about all of this. I told everyone else that I didn't remember much about my past. When it came to Cascel, I eventually told him that I thought I was from a place called Cauthard, because of a reoccurring dream."
"And that never raised any red flags for him?"
"I was convincing," he replied, leaning back in the chair. "I also had a head injury, so it wasn't entirely unreasonable. Although, as it turns out, he knew I was human from the start."
"Well, yeah. You probably stuck out like a sore thumb from the way you described the…"
"Sajomei."
"Locals," Ren finished his thought. "Which leads me to wonder, how you didn't know he was one?"
"For the same reason no one else immediately thought I was an alien from another planet. The Drussat from the southern continent were known for being smaller than most Sajomei, and were a target for the slave traders. Ghan'dono once told me that it wasn't unheard of for those traders to smuggle slaves through Qur'loam. So, if anyone asked, he told them I was left for dead on the side of the road, most likely dumped from a slave wagon because I was injured, weak, and expected to die. He took me in because I couldn't remember where I was from. I just assumed that Cascel was a Drussat. It's not like there weren't others around that looked similar enough to us."
"You got freaking lucky."
"No kidding," he replied, taking a deep breath, and slowly letting it out as he stared up at the ceiling. "Being on Illimev is what I imagine it was like living here a thousand years ago. Don't get me wrong, it had some benefits, but toilet paper and hot showers were not amongst them. And no, you do not want to ask."
"You are so wrong. I really want to ask."
Hutch and Ren shared a well needed laugh over the topic, until they were brought to the point of tears.
"Oh man, I needed that," Hutch told him, wiping the tears from his eyes as they calmed back down, the mood turning serious. "He told me, that without the amulet, there was no going home."
"But you have the amulet, or most of it. What are the chances it can be repaired?"
"Better, since it sounded as if he had more pieces. But it also means that I'm going to have to trust him, and I don't know if I can. Giving him the amulet, it takes away any possibility that one day, I can figure it out, fix it, and make it work. But if I'm honest with myself, I don't even know where to begin, and it will take years, if not decades to do it, if I even manage. Casimir already has the money, the resources, and the smarts. Combine both his life times and he's more than a hundred years ahead of me."
"But, do you really need to trust him to use him?"
"I need to trust that he won't use the amulet and leave me behind," Hutch replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"I don't think he will," Ren stated with confidence. "I mean, obviously I don't know him like you do, but I don't think he'd risk leaving Celina. He'd be a complete fool if he did. Think about it, what kind of a woman would love a guy like him? He's never going to find another one. Especially not one like her. There are also his kids. Can't have more of them on Illimev. Probably has more of an Empire here than he had there too, even with being called King of the country. How fulfilling could it have been without toilet paper and hot showers? I meant family. The love of a family."
"You make some intriguing arguments, but they only work if his family holds any value, and he can't take them with."
"Then he better be made aware that taking them is a death sentence for his family line. If legacy is his supervillain motive, he isn't going to get it on a planet of incompatible aliens, unless he's cool with incest and inbreeding," Ren said, with a mock gag.
"Gross. Thanks for that."
"You're welcome," Ren replied with a grin. "But it does beg the question of motive. Any idea what his was? Or is?"
"Power. Control. I don't really know. As Cascel, he was convincing at being devoted to making Qur'loam a better country, but when I found out he was Casimir, everything changed. Everything he was doing and had done, looked nefarious. Like he was working towards a larger scheme. It's why I joined with Ensaso's crew. At least part of the reason. Whatever Casimir was up to, he wasn't going to stop, unless someone took a stand and stopped him. And while I'm certain Ensaso didn't care much about that, he wanted him stopped just as bad, for reasons of his own."
"Okay," Ren said, shifting back on his bed, humming in thought. "Okay, give me an example. Anything that sticks out in your mind that screams he was up to something."
"Myrrget," he replied without even having to think about it.
"What's that?"
"It's the crystalized sap of a tree that grew primarily in the silver forest. He was thorough when it came to the collecting of it. He had tribes trained in how to up the production. The stuff was basically liquid gold and it was a major export for Qur'loam, but only a fraction of what was collected was ever sold, and his method for increasing the production was a major secret. He didn't let anyone spread that around."
"Sounds like a cartel boss. Any idea what the stuff was use for?"
"Their magic, mostly. It's used as a base ingredient in just about every potion the bannermen every spoke about. And on that last day, when we stormed the city, I remember seeing baskets of it all over the palace. Looking back, I get the impression he was a bit of obsessed with it."