Read Spanners - The Fountain of Youth Online
Authors: Jonathan Maas
Spanners - The Fountain of Youth
SPANNERS
THE FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH
BY JON MAAS
Copyright © 201
3 Jon Maas
All rights reserved.
ISBN-13: 978-1490350011
ISBN-10: 1490350012
WgaW Reg #1688460
Library of Congress Reg # TXu 1-871-666
This book is dedicated to the JLJ crew – JM, LV and now JJ.
Dream big, have fun, and don’t let anyone tell you it’s foolish to do so.
The average human being lives from 0
−80, sequentially.
Spanners
don’t.
These rare beings have different
lifespans
than the rest of us. Some live their lives in reverse, some live only six months, and some are immortal. There are hundreds of classes of spanners that live hundreds of different ways, and each class has a unique lifespan that gives them unique powers.
A few spanners find a way to live in normal human society, but most live in the shadows. There are
some spanners that are extremely dangerous, and with the help of a
mayfly
-class spanner, an 8,000-year-old detective named Adam Parr is doing everything he can to keep them under control.
The Florida Panhandle—Ten Years Ago
Balthasar Guzm
án de Balboa was awoken at 2 a.m. by Christine, who apparently now went by the moniker
Drayne
. Balthasar’s entire young crew had given themselves nicknames soon after they had joined him and though he thought it trite, he let them call themselves whatever they wished. If they fancied themselves superheroes, so be it. They believed in his goal, and no one else did.
“Cannon’s been sobbing uncontrollably,” said Drayne. “I tried to approach him, but he’s in a rage; he tore his bed in half.”
“Cannon?”
“Skyler, the
tweener
-class spanner.”
Cannon is his name now,
thought Balthasar.
It’s fitting. His class of spanner is explosive as a cannon, and probably twice as deadly.
“Christine,” said Balthasar. “Now what—”
“
Drayne
,” she corrected. “It’s what I do. I take people’s lifespans, like a—”
“Fine,
Drayne,
” said Balthasar, humoring her. “Now why is Cannon upset?”
“I was giving him advice,” she said, “and he got angry.”
“What kind of advice?”
“Just advice …”
“Did you criticize his appearance?”
“No,” said Drayne
. “But I—”
“But what?”
“I told him he needed to bathe,” she said. “He smells really bad.”
Good Lord,
thought Balthasar.
This is going to take some damage control.
/***/
Balthasar followed Drayne to Cannon’s room and made the sign of the cross when he saw the young boy; the room had been turned upside down, and Cannon’s metal bed had indeed been ripped in two. Balthasar knew he had to be careful when approaching Cannon; their team was small and lived in an abandoned, teetering wood mansion. If Cannon went ballistic, they wouldn’t be able to contain him, the boy would destroy their entire house, and their goal would be lost.
Balthasar expected this when he recruited the three spanners; they were
teenagers and these setbacks were bound to happen.
Youths like these always bring problems, but there is no other way,
thought Balthasar,
because only the young can be recruited, and only the young will fight and die for this cause.
Balthasar thought what to do with Cannon; the young brute had perhaps two hundred pounds of pure muscle on him,
maybe more. Balthasar himself was an immortal spanner, but he had no real powers, at least not anything that could control the boy.
Could Drayne lay her hands on him and take some of his life force away?
he thought.
The other spanner is fast and might be able to—
Balthasar decided against turning his own team
on one another, even temporarily, because they hadn’t yet learned to control their powers. Drayne was a
scourge
-class spanner and might be able to take Cannon in a fight, but she might kill him too. She might take so much of his life away that he’d be reduced to a withered heap of bones and flesh.
“Perhaps we should leave him alone, sir,” said Drayne.
She stood there tentatively and then ran her long fingers nervously through her stringy black hair. Balthasar knew her powers were deadly, but she was still a child, unsure of herself and her place in this world. She would one day grow into a beauty (albeit a pale, razor-thin and somewhat frightening one), but for now she was nothing more than a young girl looking to Balthasar for guidance.
“No,
we will not leave him alone,” said Balthasar. “Social isolation is devastating for his class.”
Balthasar heard a noise from upstairs and saw
his third and final recruit, a blur-class spanner from Namibia named
Fanuel
.
“I have some news
, sir,” said the blur-class spanner. “I’ve been into the swamps and found—”
“
We have a crisis on our hands, so I’ll speak with you about that after,” said Balthasar. “Now, Fanuel—”
“Blur,” said Fanuel. “I like to be called
Blur
.”
“
Blur
,” whispered Balthasar, nodding. “Your class name and first name are one and the same. At least remembering it will be easy. Let’s talk somewhere more private, shall we?”
Balthasar pointed to a far corner of the mansion; it was close enough for Cannon to know that they hadn’t abandoned him but far enough away that the boy wouldn’t hear their words. Balthasar and Drayne walked to the far corner
, and Blur waited a few moments and then zipped over there so quickly that he seemed to rematerialize.
Drayne takes lifespans away and Blur lives his life at a different frequency,
thought Balthasar.
We are not without our powers.
“Now
, Cannon is a
tweener
-class spanner,” said Balthasar calmly as soon as they were out of range.
His tall, thin frame
blocked the moonlight and cast a faint shadow over Drayne as he spoke, and his salt-and-pepper hair was combed back perfectly. Balthasar had always taken great pride in his grooming and looked meticulous even now, lecturing a pair of teenagers at two in the morning.
“
He is a tweener-class spanner,” repeated Balthasar, “which means he remains stuck at one part of his lifespan for his entire life. Cannon happened to get stuck in puberty, and
that
means his testosterone is five hundred times its normal level, and rising. This gives him incredible strength, but also puts him in extremely fragile moods. Though he might not wish you ill, he could rip your head off, and mine too.”
“His testosterone gives him a foul odor,” said Drayne. “He smells like rotten—”
“You’ll not mention his odor,” interrupted Balthasar. “Nor will you mention the acne on his face, nor even his incredibly muscular physique. He’s quite insecure about being different, and that insecurity manifests itself as anger.
Teenage
anger, if you will, multiplied five hundred times. So let me do the talking, and for God’s sake be nice to him.”
Drayne and Blur nodded quietly
and then nervously held their breath, which led Balthasar to trust that they would do the right thing. To them, Cannon was less a scared adolescent and more a trapped bear, and they would proceed with caution.
They approached the door slowly and Cannon was in the corner of his destroyed room, crying. Tears flowed down his face, which was slick with acne. Balthasar got down beside the boy and tried to breathe through his mouth, but it didn’t work. Cannon had the sharp, dreadful kind of body odor, one that smell
ed of sour, rotting meat.
Lie to him,
thought Balthasar.
There is too much at stake to tell the truth.
“
Young man,” said Balthasar. “You completely misinterpreted what Christine said.”
“Drayne,” corrected Christine
. “My name’s—”
Balthasar put up
his thin hand to silence her.
“Drayne said I
…” Cannon’s voice cracked with tears and he pounded his fist into the ground, but Balthasar spoke before the boy’s emotions rose further.
“She said no such thing,” said Balthasar. “She meant to say we
all
need to bathe, because we
all
smell bad.”
“Really?” asked Cannon.
“Yes,” said Balthasar. “This area of Florida emits a certain swamp odor, and it gets on our clothes. We all have it, all of us, and must scrub it away every day. This is our lot, our cross to bear for living in this wondrous mansion.”
“Really,” said Cannon, his deep voice quivering. “Because I thought—”
“Whatever it is, you thought wrong,” said Balthasar with a smile. “Now, we need you. How are we to achieve our objectives without our strongest team member?”
“I don’t know …”
“We can’t achieve anything without you,” said Balthasar, “and it’s vitally important to the group that you refrain from further outbursts. Can you do that?”
Cannon nodded.
“Good, Skyler,” said Balthasar, “because I—”
“My name’s Cannon.”
“Of course,” said Balthasar. “I’m an old man and slow to learn these things. You’re quick, strong and explosive like a cannon and—”
“No,” said Cannon. “I’m Cannon for a different reason.”
“Oh?”
“I heard hundreds of years ago you led a ship across the ocean,” said Cannon. “And that’s what I want to be: the guy who fires
the ship’s cannons.”
Balthasar smiled; Cannon was even less mature than he had thought, but this wasn’t a bad thing.
He’ll be loyal,
thought Balthasar
, even if he’s not strong with metaphors
.
“Splendid,” said Balthasar. “
This mansion is our ship, and you’re officially our cannoneer. Now, we’re all going to take two baths a day to counteract the swamp gas; can you do the same?”
Cannon nodded, and Balthasar got up and gave Blur and Drayne a look telling them that all would be ok
ay. He motioned for them to walk back out in the distance and then whispered again so Cannon wouldn’t hear them.
“
You
don’t have to take two baths a day,” said Balthasar, “but pretend that you do. His spanner class places a tremendous amount of importance on
fitting in
, and he’ll conform to the group’s actions.”
Cannon walked by them up the stairs, and his odor hit the group moments later. Drayne started to cough, and Blur disappeared into another room before getting sick.
“And put something in Cannon’s bath water,” whispered Balthasar. “I suggest
bleach
.”
/***/
As soon as Drayne and Cannon had gone back to bed, Balthasar met with Blur and examined the boy’s map of the Florida Everglades. It was quite clear where they needed to go: Blur had placed a giant
X
over one small area of the map.
“Do you think this is it?” asked Balthasar.
“I think so,” said Blur. “All I brought was a metal detector, but it’s unmistakable; there’s something big down there. It’s too deep to dive, so I didn’t—”
“It’s ok
ay,” said Balthasar. “You couldn’t have lifted it by yourself anyway. We should bring a small crane, and perhaps a dredger.”
“We could bring Cannon,” said Blur
.
Blur smiled excitedly at his idea, and his white teeth were visible
within his dark face, even as he vibrated.
He’s right,
thought Balthasar.
If we got Cannon under control, the boy could swim down and bring up a sunken truck if need be.
“Fine,” said Balthasar. “We leave
first thing in the morning, so be sure to rouse Cannon as soon as you awake; his class tends to sleep late.”
“Of course
, sir,” said Blur, and in another instant he was gone.
/***/
Balthasar couldn’t sleep the rest of the night, though he was neither excited nor nervous. He just wanted to soak in the moment, the moment of calm and anonymity before the momentum began. He felt like Napoleon as a second lieutenant during the French Revolution, or perhaps Alexander the Great as a teenager, being quietly tutored by Aristotle. Balthasar and his group were unknown now, but they wouldn’t live in anonymity forever. They would soon find their leader in the Florida swamp, and their leader was destined to be both Napoleon and Alexander, multiplied by a thousand.
But
for now, Balthasar found the moment peaceful and couldn’t help but smile; their rickety mansion had no running water or even electricity, but he was enjoying the darkness. He sipped his tequila and listened as the forest creatures continued their endless song of the night; they sounded to Balthasar like an orchestra warming up before a performance.
It won’t be the same after tomorrow,
he thought,
but we must move forward. History waits for neither man nor immortal, and it won’t wait for us.
/***/
The next morning they were in the Florida Everglades on two rented fanboats, one driven by Balthasar and the other driven by Blur, which also carried Cannon and the dredging equipment. They drove their boats without much notice; Blur had taken sedatives to stop vibrating and took on the mien of an ordinary African American. Balthasar and Drayne looked like normal humans; Balthasar’s thin, dry features had allowed him to blend in with relative anonymity his whole life, and although Drayne’s pale face and dark clothing looked out of place in the Florida swamps, she looked like the average disaffected youth that Balthasar thought was becoming all too common nowadays. Even Cannon blended in somewhat. He wore heavy clothes to cover his shiny acne, and the passersby would send only a look that said
that’s the biggest boy we’ve ever seen
. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, they were just three humans and a weightlifter out for a tour of the marshlands.
