IX.

She took Octobriana's hand gently and stroked it. She could feel all the
sadness, guilt, rage, fear and love built up inside her friend's body.
Octobriana was someone with great strength that had been turned inward
against itself by the weight of loss and failure. Jenny had known many
people like that. Sometimes she'd been one herself.

"Y'know it's been a while, isn't it?" said Jenny. "Since we've been
alone together."

Octobriana nodded. She wasn't often one for words. She spoke and thought
through her actions. But Jenny had spent enough time with her across her
many lives that words weren't needed. She saw Octobriana lean downward
and drew her in for a kiss.

X.

For a moment, all her thoughts and fears were stilled, as she lost
herself in the deep sensation of Octobriana's kiss. "So," said Jenny.
"Should we fuck now?"

Octobriana laughed. "Good plan. I've been fighting a lot, but haven't
fucked in forever."

Jenny took her by her hand and led her to the bed. Together they melted
into it, kissing each other up and down their bodies. Jenny worked over
Octobriana with her fingers well-practiced in defusing bombs and
repairing various machines. Their bodies moved together, speaking a
language they'd developed together in battle--Octobriana pressing
forward with overwhelming power, as was her way, Jenny yielding while
also taking control, as was hers.

The taste of Octobriana's cum, like Proust's madeleine, triggered a
flood of memories in Jenny's mind. All their battles together, across a
thousand lives, all their celebrations and all their mourning. When
she'd had all her lives, she'd been living all of that, at every moment,
at once. In every moment of her life she lived through moments joy and
pain and boredom in her other lives, all tangled up together. So it
goes, said one of the few writers who'd captured something of the unique
nature of her condition. It had been hard sometimes, but without it she
felt so much less. But now she felt a memory of what she truly was and
knew it would give her strength.

XI.

"Whew. That was good," said Jenny.

"Indeed," said Octobriana. They lay in the bed, bodies nestled into each
other. The sheets had gotten all tangled up but they were comfortable.
"Made me think of the good old days." She smiled fondly, a rare sight.
"The PPP."

Progressive Political Pornography was another front group of the Sixth
International. They produced pornography which explored all the wide
variety of bodies and ways of being sexually, hoping to break
patriarchal programaming and help workers in that industry control the
means of production. Jenny had performed often, and with many people.
Octobriana had come up with the idea--she had always been deeply
committed to the cause of sexual liberation--but had trusted very few
enough to perform with. Jenny was one. That had always been a part of
their work she'd enjoyed the most.

"Yeah," said Jenny. "I--wait a second." Sometimes when something
distracted her from a hard problem, it snapped into place when she
wasn't looking. "I figured it out. What the creepy librarian was saying."

XII.

"Creepy librarian?" said Octobriana. She started, snapping back into
their battle after they'd spent time together away from it.

"Yeah. When I was in the, the library where I was, before I ran into
you, I ran into this... creepy masked librarian, who said some weird
creepy things to me. 'Follow the red lion'--I did that, yeah. 'Beware of
God'--that's ARCHONET. ARCHONET is the being that's actually responsible
for the collapse, He has to be."

"Okay," said Octobriana.

'And--'Beware the hares of march. Beware the march of ideas.' Don't know
what the hare thing is about yet, but March, the month--in Latin, that's
Martius, the month of Mars. She was talking about the Magician. Warning
me about them."

"Oh."

"Octobriana... Do you think we can still trust them?"

"I never trusted them. But we'll have to make sure, one way or another."

XIII.

"So why do you trust that creepy librarian in the first place?" said
Octobriana.

"I don't know," said Jenny. "It was... when I saw her, I... I was
scared. But--she was familiar. She was part of what I was, what I needed
to get back to. I knew her, I--Never mind. Let's forget about all that
for now."

She took Octobriana's hand and started kissing it, gently sucking her
fingers. Octobriana moaned. "Think you're up for another round?" said Jenny.

"Mmmmm. I could be." Octobriana licked her lips.

There was a knock on the door.

"What's that?" said Octobriana. She shot upwards.

"Eh, that's probably just Glendalf." Jenny yawned and stretched. "We
should probalby get out of bed. We'll have time later."

Glendalf walked into the room. "Well, there wasn't much interesting out
there. Ah, I see you've been enjoying yourselves--why are you looking at
me like that?"

The knocking continued.

XIV.

The knocking continued, regular and metronomic. It echoed through the
cabin as Jenny and Octobriana put their clothes back on.

Slowly, all three of them made their way to the door. Jenny opened it.

On the other side was Trashman, in all his black-leather-wearing glory.
But his characteristic swagger was gone. Instead, he seemed empty,
gaunt, and haggard.

All three of them stood stock still.

"Jenny," said Trashman, seeming to whisper from a distance. "Why. Why
couldn't you save me?"

"That's not him!" shouted Glendalf. "That's a Limbo-Wraith, wearing
borrowed memories." But the words didn't reach anyone, even himself.

"All of you," said Trashman. "You belong--" His body seemed to glitch
itself and lose resolution before coming sharply back into focus.

"You belong

in the dead

with me."

XV.

Jenny couldn't move. She knew this thing wasn't Trashman but she knew
the words it said were true. She had no right to live when so many
others had been lost. People she couldn't save, people who gave their
lives for her. Maybe it was time to let it all go.

The Limbo-Wraith shifted and distended itself. It became an abstract
melange of images of different human body parts, like an AI-generated
composite, but she could still see Trashman in there somewhere. It
slowly moved in, swaying back and forth, deciding which of them to
devour first.

It chose Octobriana. That was its mistake. Jenny didn't care anymore
whether she lived or died, but she wouldn't let anyone hurt Octobriana.
Swift as a river, she pulled the staff from her pack and extended it.
She leaped into the air and struck the Limbo-Wraith on what must have
been its face.

XVI.

The Limbo-Wraith screamed and reared back. Octobriana, woken from her
trance, pulled out her knife and slashed at it. The creature lashed out
with the claws that grew from something like hands and slashed at her
shoulder.

Jenny held the staff above her head and spun it around swiftly, filling
the air with a hum. A lightning-like arc surrounded it. The creature was
blown back. Its body was starting to dissolve, but so was the cabin and
the world around it.

"Good job," said Glendalf. "But this limbo-realm won't last much longer.
We're going to be cast adrift into time. I will unleash my most powerful
attack, but first I will cast one last spell." He held up his own staff
and small balls of pink light entered into Jenny and Octobriana's
foreheads, with a weird tingle.

"Remember," he said. "Find each other. Find the Magician, no matter what
the cost.

"Remember."

XVII.

Glendalf raised his staff above his head, with each hand on one end.
"You know, I'm not sure whether I'll see either of you again, so I just
wanted to say--thank you. I enjoyed your company very much."

And he spoke:

*~ULTIMATE DESTRUCTION WAVE~*

A flock of glowing, winged pink hearts appeared in the air. These
heart-bullets, burning with pink fire, struck the Limbo-Wraith in wave
after wave. The creature screamed. Gradually, all the images that made
it up split off and dissolved into nothing. There was no wraith. There
was no cabin. There was nothing except greyness, eternal everlasting
greyness, and then that was gone too.

Jenny woke up.

END OF ACT IV