“Excuse me, good sir,” a soft female voice said close to his ear. Closer than he felt comfortable allowing—he wasn’t ready yet!
He looked up, ready to snap at whoever had invaded his space. But it was an old woman, as tall as Mothball and just as gangly, leaning over him like a wind-broken tree. She had a gentle, pretty face, and Sato’s anger quickly slipped away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “You all keep asking me the same thing, and I can’t answer it any differently. I’m not the guy you think I am.” He returned his chin to his fists, his eyes to the floor. How was he going to do this?
“We don’t rightly think that anymore,” the woman answered. “We’re not a bunch of dumb lugs, ya know. But there’s somethin’ right special about you, there is. And we want to ’ear from ya, that’s all. Not too much to be askin’, now is it?”
Sato took a long, deep breath. He had to do something, get the ball rolling. Sitting there with all of them gawking like kids at a zoo would drive him crazy if it went on for another minute.
“Fine,” he said, sighing as he forced himself to stand. The old woman smiled, her grin revealing that she only had about half her teeth, and those remaining were dark yellow. But still, she had a pretty face, despite its age and wear and tear. Somehow, she was keeping him polite and level-headed.
“Give us a speech,” she whispered to him, still leaning down considerably. “We could all use a bit of uppity-up, no matter the source. You’ve got the looks of one who can do that right nicely. You do, really.” She winked at him then stood straight, a good foot taller than Sato.
Sato looked away from her and around at the crowd. Many had taken a seat—especially the ones closest to him. Those farther back stood, arms folded, staring at him expectantly. There had to be at least three or four hundred people packed all around him. He slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in as he tried to think of something to say. The whole lot of them grew quiet.
You can do this, he thought to himself.
“I know why you guys are so fascinated by me,” he said, wondering if he could’ve possibly started his speech with anything more stupid. He doubted it. “I know I look a lot like the kid who was your ruler until those crazy Bug soldiers assassinated him.”
This caused an uproar, people shouting and yelling things all at once, many of them throwing their arms up and shaking their clenched fists in anger.
“Boo to the Bugaboos!”
“Death for the Bugs!”
“Drown the clowns!”
“No rest till the pests’ death!”
Sato didn’t think it was possible, but he felt even more uncomfortable. He held his hands up, palms out, trying to shush them. Finally, they quieted. And he started talking; where the words came from, he had no idea.
“I’m not the same person as your leader who was killed. It’s really hard to explain, but I’m from a different world—one that’s a lot like yours but . . . different. Maybe it’s not so hard to believe if you just look around at this weird place. But none of that matters. I know why you want me to be your Grand Minister. Everyone wants a leader, someone to look up to. But I don’t know if I could ever really be that person.”
A surge of complaints started to explode from the crowd, but Sato cut the noise off by swiping his hands back and forth. “Just listen to me! We all need something here, and I think we can help each other.”
“What’s that then?” the old woman asked, her right eyebrow cocked high. “What can we do for ya, lad?”
Sato was thinking on the fly, caught up in the moment. He was feeling it. “I know Mothball. I know her family. I know that the people of your world are fighters. You’re warriors. Am I right?”
A hearty shout of cheers rang through the air, fists pumping toward the endless gray sky of nothingness above. A surge of heat and electric energy filled Sato’s veins.
“The first thing we have to do is get out of this place. I have a very good friend who’s in a lot of trouble, and if he dies, we all might die. I need your help to go after him, to help him, save him. We also need to stop something that a very evil person named Mistress Jane is doing—the sickest, most horrific thing I’ve ever heard of. We’ll give you all the details soon enough—I think we have a little time yet. But if you do this—if you’ll help me and . . . fight for me—I’ll make a promise to each and every one of you.”
Sato paused, scanning the crowd, in awe at how every eye was trained on him. Complete silence settled across the strange place. Even Mothball and Rutger stood rigid, mouths slightly agape, probably wondering who’d possessed Sato’s body.