Ronin

by Tony Bertauski

  “Same as always.” She looked at the drones. “Right in front of the world.”

  ***

  It’s deep down here.

  And cold.

  I’m treading water; it’s hard to keep my head up. My feet paddle. I don’t think there’s a bottom. And I’m afraid to find out. Maybe I can’t touch.

  Maybe there isn’t a bottom.

  “Ryder.”

  He was jostled awake, sucking air deeply and hungrily. His face was wet and warm. He scrambled in the dark, confused, reaching for the walls of a deep and dark hole—

  “Hey, shhh.” Cherry grabbed his arms.

  He wiped his face. The door was open. She was kneeling next to his bed, her whispers masked by Arf’s snoring. The drones were dormant and docked.

  “What time is it?”

  She shined the phone in his face. “Come on.”

  He got dressed and met her in her room, where the candle was flickering. He closed the door, still foggy, running his hand through his hair damp with sweat, relieved that she had the phone. The cold remnants of the dream still ran over him.

  “You all right?” she asked.

  He sat on the edge of the bed. “Bad dream.”

  “Guess what? You’re still in a nightmare.”

  She tried to laugh. He didn’t bother. This dream was heavy and clingy. He rubbed his cheeks, eyes puffy. He cleared his throat and tried to walk it off. She gave him space to settle, didn’t try to pull it out of him. He noticed that about her, she was good with space. Maybe it was the meditation.

  “You got the phone,” he said.

  She displayed it again. A map lit up. There were no routes, just a detailed layout of Kringletown with labels and locations. There wouldn’t be time to explore. He’d slept through any chance of that.

  “I waited,” she said. “Decided to come get you. Hope that’s all right.”

  She paused. “Want to tell me what really happened on the mountain?”

  He nodded thoughtfully while thumbing the map around the screen.

  “I’ve been having these, uh... these dreams for a while now. They’re like a... a story, sort of. I think...” He shook his head. He had the feeling he’d always had these dreams, ever since he was little. “I thought everyone dreamed stories, you know? I mean, I have a dream one night and then the next dream would just pick up where it left off.”

  “That’s not normal.”

  He handed her the phone and paced again, the cold dregs dragging behind him like tin cans. “It’s about a reindeer.”

  She waited for more. “Okay.”

  “He’s a runt who was abandoned by his mother. And an, um, an elven discovers him.”

  “An elven?”

  “You know, like an elf, sort of. You know how dreams are.”

  She heard the emotion, like it was more than a dream to him. Ryder could still remember what the elven looked like, short and fat with enormous bare feet that treaded over the snow. His round face was buried in a white beard that hung in two ropey braids. His eyes twinkled when he smiled.

  And I know his name. He didn’t tell her that.

  “It was sort of against the rules, what he did. But it saved the reindeer’s life.”

  “A lot of detail for a dream.”

  “The reindeer kept growing after that. He had this rack of antlers that looked like tree branches.” He spread out his hands. “He was very protective of the elven and all the others in the colony.”

  “There were other what? Elven?”

  “And reindeer. They all had antlers too. They weren’t like normal reindeer that lose them every year and regrow new ones. They weren’t like them in a lot of ways.”

  He stopped pacing. It was feeling more like a confession.

  “They can fly.”

  Cherry nodded. “Okay.”

  “They’re genetically modified with this bladder that fills up with helium, and there’s extra hide on their legs that allows them to glide, sort of like—”

  “Santa Claus,” she said. “You’re talking about Santa Claus’s reindeer, the ones that pull his sleigh?”

  “Um, yeah. Ronin is the last one.”

  “Ronin?”

  “The reindeer found by—”

  “The elven, right. It’s just a dream, though, Ryder. There’s no Santa Claus and there’s no magic reindeer. You know that, right?”

  “I know. I know.”

  She watched him, watched his feet pace to the door and back to the candle. The dream he just woke up from and the ones he’d had since arriving were just so vivid. They weren’t just a story.

  I can feel them.

  Ronin was somewhere cold and dark. Maybe not in a well, but he was alone.

  “That was him,” he said. “Ronin was on the mountain.”

  “The reindeer?”

  “He showed up when Kraig came at me.”

  She was at a loss for words. He knew how it sounded. The whole thing was bizarre, the dreams, this place. Maybe she was right, he was still in a nightmare.

  “Here’s where it gets weird,” he said.

  “Here? You met an animal from your dream and this is where it gets weird?”

  “I think I’ve known Ronin all my life. I think that’s why I dream of him. He sort of... protects me, I don’t know why. It just explains why bad things happen to people. I sort of remember him now.”

  The time when David had trapped him behind the garage, the way he ended up with broken bones and the wall of the garage was cracked. He didn’t imagine that.

  I remember.

  “Remember when Kraig knocked me down at the football game and we heard the howl? That was him.”

  Ryder remembered the airplane that was soaring in the gray sky before the football game. Airplanes don’t fly over Kringletown, Mindy the producer said. This is private land. Nothing comes out here unless BG says so.

  “Let me get this straight,” she said. “Your guardian angel is one of Santa’s reindeer. Every time you’re in trouble, he blows up like a hot air balloon and floats to your rescue, smashes someone with his horns, and then floats back to the Pole.”

  “I don’t know all that. All I know is that when Kraig came at me, he was there. And, uh...”

  “Go on,” she said. “Don’t stop now.”

  He sat across from her and explained what had happened when he looked Ronin in the eyes, the way he felt the panic and the rage, the anger and strength. How he could see through Ronin’s eyes, see his own face looking back. How this was all a trap.

  “I was bait.”

  He raked his hands through his hair. His eyes misted up and he turned away. This was his fault. If he had paid attention to all those other times, he would’ve run from Kraig, would never have let him come close.

  This is my fault.

  He wiped his eyes. She’d already seen him wake up with wet cheeks. The mattress sank next to him. Her shoulder was against his; she took his hand. Her fragrance embraced him.

  “I think I know where he is.”

  She held up the phone. Kringletown was easy to recognize. She zoomed on the far side and tapped a label.

  “Remember that night I went to the barn? The big doors were unlocked, and inside there were these giant areas—they weren’t cages. They were more like stalls an elephant could live in. Why else would BG have something like that?”

  “You believe me?”

  “I believe there was a reindeer.” She squeezed his hand. “And that BG has it. He always has space in his trophy case.”

  Close enough, he thought.

  He wouldn’t expect anyone to believe his story, and she hadn’t thrown him out. In fact, she was still sitting next to him and—he realized with sudden affection—was holding his hand.

  “We go tomorrow,” she said, “and see if it’s unlocked.”

  She scrolled around the map. Last time there was a route that took them to the cabin. Submenus popped up when she tapped the cabin, detailing activities such as surveill
ance, matrix development and memory integration. That last part sounded insidious. BG was collecting their memories; that wasn’t a surprise. But integration? Matrix development?

  Cherry panned throughout Kringletown and found the kitchen and dining hall and library and game room. There were detailed maps of where everything was and how it functioned.

  “What’s that?” Ryder pointed.

  She panned down the nicy wing. The rooms were labelled by name. Ryder Mack was attached to a room near the end. There were more amenities on the nicy wing than there were on the naughty wing, and the rooms were larger, but Ryder was pointing at a layer beneath the hallway. He grabbed the label. A submenu popped up and a subterranean map moved to the front.

  “Fabrication lab.”

  It was larger than the cabin lab and almost as big as the entire nicy wing. And that was just one section. There were other rooms labelled cold storage, database, and replicator.

  “Where’s the entrance?” she said. “Did you see one?”

  Ryder had left the nicy wing without looking around. Besides, it was belowground. An elevator would be the way to get there. The thought of sneaking down there sent icicles through his stomach. He just wanted to find Ronin. And leave.

  “I say we look at this first,” she said.

  “What about Ronin?”

  “We don’t know what’s going on here. The answer is down there. Here, let’s do this. If the phone gives us a route tomorrow night, we take it.” She traced a path. “Just like the cabin, we go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because someone wants us to know.”

  “Who?” He leaned away from her. “Have you ever thought of that? Who’s sending us notes? Who gave you the phone?”

  “Someone who wants to help.” She pointed at the door. “My name is on the board. They’re going to come for me. I won’t go, but you know they’ll make me. BG always gets his way. I don’t know what they’re doing to us, but no one is coming back, so whatever our mystery helper has in mind, I’m game. We don’t have a choice.”

  She turned off the phone and opened the door, checking the board as if hoping her name had disappeared. She sat next to him and whispered, “I don’t want to be nice.”

  Ryder didn’t like the feeling of introspection when he was there, but whatever they were doing now was different. They’d gotten what they needed from the game room. BG’s endgame was near. They should do more than find Ronin. They needed to follow the phone. Someone wanted to help.

  Or needs help.

  17

  Jane and John couldn’t wait for the North Pole. Every morning they blabbed on the stream, and all the nicies agreed. One by one, they confessed their excitement that always ended in hugs and high fives and sometimes tears. BG deserved a Nobel.

  Arf groaned.

  He lay on his side with his laptop against the wall. Ryder had nodded off, dreaming about elephant cages and Arctic wind. He woke up staring at the top bunk.

  Christmas was a week away.

  The phone had been quiet. No maps or notes, no directions on what to do. But he had a plan. First, they were going to find Ronin. It didn’t matter what the phone said, they needed to find him before a new rack of antlers was on the dining room wall.

  Once they found him, they would free him as soon as the drones shut down at four o’clock. They could have winter gear ready and make their escape. That would give them an hour before anyone would notice. He didn’t know where they would go, but they could use the phone to film what they were doing and upload the truth. If they were caught, the world would know what happened to them.

  And if he can really fly... He cut that thought out. Reindeer only flew in dreams. But they don’t follow you around, either.

  “I thought you were nice.”

  Cherry was returning from the bathrooms, drying her hair with a towel. Ryder sat up, confused. He was about to answer when he realized she was pretending.

  “I heard the rooms are bigger over there,” she said. “What’s it like?”

  He thought about it. “It stinks.”

  “Worse than this?” She nodded at their room.

  “I’m thinking of going back,” he said. “All my clothes are there. Laptop, too. Want a tour?”

  She hung the towel around her neck and shrugged. It was a good show. No one would believe it. She’d never said more than a hundred words to him before that. However, no one would really know why she was suddenly interested in him.

  “Want to go, Arf?” he said.

  “No.” He didn’t roll over. “I’ll wait.”

  Ryder was struck with guilt. If they found Ronin, how could he leave Soup and Arf behind? Arf wasn’t going anywhere until Soup came back, and no one knew where he was. Still.

  Cherry came back to the room an hour later.

  It was a fifteen-minute walk to the other side. Bradley Cooper led them through the spacious foyer. A Christmas tree touched the ceiling, the branches heavy with ornaments and twinkling lights. She wrinkled her nose. The nicy smell greeted them before they got there. The hall was wider than the naughty wing and cleaner. The bedroom doors spaced farther apart.

  No one was playing music.

  “Did you see the stream?” he asked.

  “No.”

  BG wasn’t on it. He hadn’t been on the stream since coming back from the mountain. No one had seen him, either. Ryder wondered if he’d taken the helicopter over the mountain again.

  “I’m on the end.” He pointed at the room.

  Cherry’s lips were silently moving. She was counting her steps, visualizing what they saw on the phone. The lab took up all the space below them. She was keeping track of her steps in case they passed an entrance. But it was all just bedrooms.

  The nicy board was mounted at the end of the hall. A meeting was scheduled for the afternoon. No one was listed for introspection. Nicies didn’t do introspection.

  Only when you’re naughty.

  The bedroom was exactly as he left it. The open laptop was asleep and the bed made. It smelled fresher than the hallway, but the clayey smell was seeping in. He wondered if he’d get accustomed to it like he had with Arf’s socks.

  “Bigger than I thought.” She looked around the room, bounced her hand on the bed and pulled open a drawer. “Folded your clothes.”

  “Someone did.”

  She looked out the window, nodding to herself, making mental note of the naughty wing, whose window was whose. Ryder touched the laptop. The monitor woke up with a digital note in the corner.

  “Look.”

  Cherry peered over his shoulder and grunted. “There is only the present,” she read. “It’s Zen.”

  “Maybe it’s Christmas present.”

  “It means the past and future don’t exist, just this moment. As in now, not tomorrow.”

  “As in don’t wait?”

  She understood exactly what he was saying. Was their mystery helper telling them not to hesitate when the time came? Or stop waiting for a map?

  “You going to stay here tonight?” she asked.

  “No. Arf will get lonely.”

  “He’s a big boy.”

  “He is a big boy.” Ryder tucked the laptop under his arm. “That’s the tour. Want to see the bathrooms? The toilets are made of gold.”

  She looked out the window one last time. They closed the door and followed Bradley Cooper. Unless there was a secret door in someone’s closet, there was no entrance to the basement lab. Still, she counted her steps as they passed the bedrooms.

  One door was open.

  There was no music or audio from the stream coming out. Cherry was looking down, counting. Ryder glanced inside as they passed. Someone was tending to a stack of folded laundry, placing shirts in an open drawer.

  “Soup?”

  Blond hair, scrawny build, that was him. But he didn’t turn around. Ryder stood in the doorway till he turned to grab a pile of shirts.

  “Oh!” He jumped back. He smiled big and wide. �
��Scared me. What are you doing over here?”

  Ryder was too stunned to answer. Cherry’s boots squeaked to a stop. Together, they stared. It was him, Soup the Nicy Hater, placing shirts with shirts and pants with pants and socks in orderly rows. Not a single one of them on the floor.

  “Dude, the rooms are huge. We could play tennis in here.”

  Dude? “Where have you been?”

  “Just having a chat with Big Game. Everything makes sense now. You know what I mean, right? We talked about things and then, I don’t know, I just wasn’t bothered anymore.”

  “For two days?”

  “That how long?” He shrugged. “Went by fast.”

  Ryder shook his head. The smell of nicy was strong. Like fresh-cooked pottery.

  “You staying... over here?” Ryder asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Arf is worried.”

  Soup paused. It was like he had to think about who he was talking about. “He’ll be all right. He goes tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Cherry said. “Where’s he going?”

  He returned to organizing his underwear, patting them in place and smoothing out the wrinkles while he hummed a Christmas tune. Everything that had happened at Kringletown was bizarre.

  This went over the top.

  “Hey.” Ryder was startled by a hand on his arm. Jane smiled at him, perfectly. She turned her smile on Cherry. “Giving a tour?”

  “No,” Ryder said.

  Apparently that was funny. “Getting settled?”

  “Hey, Jane. I love these.” Soup held up thick socks. One was green, the other red.

  “You’re going to love the boots.”

  He looked under the bed. His eyes grew wide. He held up a pair of waterproofs and smiled a smile Ryder had never seen on him. He was wearing a white shirt and dark pants.

  The uniform.

  “Don’t forget,” she said, “we’re meeting in the den for gear assignments. The Pole is a week away. You too.” She pinched Ryder.

  So many thoughts streamed through his head. He couldn’t capture a single one.

  “Did Ryder tell you about the hike?” she called into the room. “BG shorted us a coat. We took turns going without one, sort of a teamwork exercise. It worked out pretty well, I think. Don’t you?”