The moments surrounding Viper’s death are interesting ones. They contain the broad, the intimate strokes of the Terrific Tandem dynamic. The Eidolon, as if realizing what they symbolize, cannot help but reflect, and he forces Godsend to do the same. They talk in front of Viper, as they battle him, as if he is already dead. Cotton knows what will happen, it’s not as if he’s a fool, a beginner. Viper strikes mostly at him, uses his augment frame, through which he is able to contend with Godsend, who spends little of his time concerned over the fortunes of his ally.
“You’re throwing it all away,” the Eidolon says. “And for what? For some two-bit thug who managed to finagle a significant advantage for himself? Look at him, he can hardly fight us now. He’s the same villain we trounced countless times. He’s a lackey, he’s meant to be nothing but cannon fodder. He’s more than that on a fluke. Why are you so concerned about him? What do you think he represents?”
“He’s war,” Godsend says. “He wouldn’t have been if you’d been able to contain him, but you failed and now here we are. This is not the first time. It will certainly be the last.”
“I failed?” the Eidolon says. “I tried explaining all of this to you, remember? And you wouldn’t have any of it. You told me yourself how villains like him weren’t important, not in the grand scheme. You told me fear was something that gets people killed. I was afraid of this man, or rather, of his boss. I turned out to be right.”
“Except your fear had consequences,” Godsend says. “You caused all of this. You and your cavalier attitude.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” the Eidolon says. “You’re pompous, you’re arrogant. You think the world owes you, you son of a bitch. You’re the hero, Godsend. You owe the world. Every time you dress up, every time you call yourself ‘Godsend’ instead of ‘Robert,’ you’ve acknowledged your debt.”
“Heroism isn’t a debt,” Godsend says. “It’s a promise, a contract.”
“Contracts are debts,” the Eidolon says. “Contracts are things that mean you’ve agreed in advance to provide a service. Until you’ve done that, you’re in debt, and not the other way around. You repay a debt to complete a contract, because you’ve made a promise. You call me cavalier. You don’t even understand, after all these years, what you’ve agreed to do. You think it’s all just one big adventure, that you’re here, and that’s the final word, that’s what gets the job done. You get your hands dirty, Godsend. You want to kill this man. Don’t even try and deny it. You think it’s the best, the only solution. He’s eluded us too many times, caused too much harm. You think his murder of your wife was the final straw.”
It was, originally, Rancor who brought together this partnership. Both found themselves in pursuit, and teamed up to conclude matters. But that was not the end of the beginning. They stayed because they recognized what each meant to the other. This was in Godsend’s earliest days, when the building still echoed in his ears. This was in the Eidolon’s formative days, when he couldn’t fathom what he meant to the public. For both, the Tandem meant legitimacy, a means to prove what they were really worth. They were already distinguished among costumed circles. The Eidolon’s triumph in his original Intifada campaign, during which he undermined the Butlerian coup which would have destabilized the entire city, was a famous ghost story already. Their next adventure put them in pursuit of Calypso, a simple diamond thief who sometimes engaged in extracurricular activities such as running errands for Rancor. Alongside Calypso was a girl by the name of Amelia Delphi, who would go on, by most public accounts, to a distinguished career as a bank auditor, as well as one of the best sources of information within Traverse. She would also marry a man named Robert Roy.
The business of making a name for oneself is difficult enough, but to make a name of a team is another matter. What were Godsend and the Eidolon doing, working together? The public wanted to know. This was how the Eidolon became known on the streets, not for the work he’d done alone, but as the darker, more sinister ally of Godsend, as the one who could match up with any opponent in a fight, and discover any secret that could topple any conspiracy. But as respected as he became, he was no more trusted by the authorities now than before. It became a matter of Godsend, so the reasoning went, trying to steer in a positive direction a rogue warrior, and that was how the Tandem was always received, and why, when Godsend received awards, the Eidolon was never present, even on the occasion he himself was deemed worthy of commendation. In the hero world, the Eidolon was more respected, and it was because he vouched for Godsend that things such as the Latter-day Allies happened. The Staged Man, never one to trust many new faces, was convinced by the hand of the Eidolon. In this circle of three, the Staged Man, the Eidolon, and Godsend, others came, including La Femme, whom Brother Jack had introduced to them, who was as mysterious as she was powerful. She and Godsend might have ended up with each other had Godsend not become bound to more earthly subjects.
Together, Godsend and the Eidolon fought many battles, but they explored much of what heroes could be capable of, on grand and small scales. The Eidolon introduced his ally to the idea of holding a secret identity, and they spent a month in Traverse establishing it. Calypso was back in town, and had once more attracted their attention. Instead of pursuing her outright, they chose to shadow her. They found that on this account, she was working for the Solomons. As Balthazar Romero, the Eidolon led Godsend in his new civilian guise to Humbert Savings, where Cinder Solomon, one of the younger of the clan, did most of his business, in whatever form it happened to take. This was when Godsend met Delphi, who was, of course, familiar with Balthazar but not with the charming man she came to know as Roy. The operation turned out to be a bust, Calypso ditching the mission of her own prerogative, and there was nothing to pin on Cinder, but all had not been lost. Roy and Delphi married not long after. Delphi never learned whom her husband really was.
When Viper struck at her, it was in retaliation not against Godsend, but against a business partner who’d outlived her usefulness. She’d gotten herself mixed in with Lotus, and after a while seemed to lose all her interest. Her flow of information ceased, as if she’d grown a conscience. So Viper did away with her. He’d killed random civilians before, without seeming motive or need. This was the first time, in the war or out of it, that it had affected Godsend, Godsend who never knew who he’d married. The Eidolon had, all along. “You want to bring him to justice,” he says now.
“Don’t tell me what I want!” Godsend says. “You have never known your place, ghost! I found you and made you who you were, and yet you were never grateful! You thought your methods were better. You even adopted the methods of others, and yet, in all the years we were allies, you never learned anything from me! What do you think that looks like? What do you think it feels like, Eidolon?”
“That was never the purpose of the Tandem, Godsend,” the Eidolon says. “We were a fighting unit, and we did a lot of good. I guess it wasn’t good enough for you. What did you really expect, anyway?”
“I expected my ally to be loyal to me!” Godsend says. “I expected that I could count on him! How else did you expect me to react when I learned I was wrong?”
“You never learned from me, either,” the Eidolon says. It is a strain, keeping up now. Viper’s armor has done its damage. Before this, the Eidolon hadn’t been in a real fight in years. The beating from Lotus was light compared to this. The daylong pursuit of the Cad simple. Ten rounds with Calypso, ten thousand with the gangs, even a single with Viper in his prime. This Viper is no longer bred for war. He is meant for conquest. That has been his only goal. He made himself formidable again artificially, more powerful to compensate for his enlarged sense of purpose. They have fought through Delphi’s office, and Godsend doesn’t even notice. He practically drags the both of them to the roof. “Our mission was never to end these threats, but to contain them. We couldn’t end them. Don’t you understand, Godsend? Our efforts are futile. We will fail. I learned nothing greater in all my years. You haven’t learned anything. You have never listened to a word I’ve spoken to you.”
“You want to fail? Fine,” Godsend says. He throws a single punch in the Eidolon’s direction. It is the first time either has assaulted the other, and even he pauses for a moment, even Viper does. Cotton can’t absorb it, not with all the punishment he’s already received in this fight. He collapses. Godsend turns away.
“Be a murderer,” the Eidolon finally says. Godsend has already resumed pounding on Viper, stripping his armor away, so that he is as defenseless as the Eidolon. “Murder Viper now, because of what he’s done. Oh, not for the war, not for all he’s done before this. Murder him because of her. I wonder how good you will feel after, how much better the world will be. I needed you, when all this began. I could go it alone, but I needed you to be effective. I needed the Tandem and without it, I spiraled out of control. Is that what you’ve been waiting to hear?”
Godsend pauses for a moment. Maybe it is. “You are a brave man,” he finally says. “All this time, everything that has happened, and finally you say that. And you think that’s what I’ve been waiting for, that now I am going to turn away from what I am about to do, that now everything is going to change, back to as it should be. You said we are meant to fail, we heroes. Those are your words. If we are meant to fail, then so what about failure? It’s your reasoning. Maybe I am failing now. This is the solution I’ve come up with.” He continues with his speech, the one where he explains to Viper his own vision of heroism. And then he drops the villain, and turns away, flies away. Godsend leaves, and there remains the Eidolon. There is still time for him, still time before the trap ensnares him, just as there’s still time for him now, as he waits in that trap itself, the coffin beneath the Palomar. If he could free himself, the Palomar wouldn’t be trouble at all for him. He is an expert swimmer, as he has needed to be on occasion. Yet he doesn’t have a chance, even though this is the hour of his greatest need. He once turned to Godsend because he knew he needed an ally, a champion of his own. He wonders now if he was wrong all along. Maybe he had it backwards. Maybe it’s Godsend who needed him all along. It’s a thought he’s never had before. Godsend was always so pompous, so arrogant, it never occurred to him. Maybe the Eidolon was meant to save a fellow hero all this time. It may be too late.
He wants to believe that he has affected Godsend already, that the only natural and inevitable conclusion to this dilemma is that he will be rescued by the man he once formed a Tandem with. The more he reflects, the less likely Cotton believes this to be true.
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