Blip bobbed side-to-side as if shaking his head. “She is not like me…”
“Not a liar?”
“No! That is not what I meant. She is not a thinking machine—She is not independent. Just a dumb computer. One big giant dumb bot. That is all. Info in, info out. Tell it what to do, and it will do it. It cannot lie.”
Syn raised an eyebrow, but it went unnoticed by Blip in the darkness of the gate room. “Obviously, it did. You did. Someone is alive over there.”
“I know.”
“Blip, you don’t get it. There’s someone else on this ship. There’s someone else out here.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You know how lonely I’ve been. You know how much I wanted someone else.”
“I’m…” He didn’t finish the line, but there was sadness there.
Syn dared, “What? You don’t know? What’s at the end of that sentence?”
Blip stayed quiet.
Syn glared, “You’re what?”
Blip’s words were soft and quiet, “I’m here.”
Syn hung her head. “Just open it.”
“Olorun told me that all of the colonists died. If something is alive over there, it’s not—”
“Open it.”
Blip flew away from her, plunging downwards away from the bridge hatch—although in the gate room, there was no up or down. “Blip!” She kicked out and tried to follow him, but she was slow. There was nothing to propel herself against. Syn was forced to swim in the air. She could gain speed, but it took a while. Then he was gone from her sight, having flown into one of the dark shadowed places in the corners of the room. “Blip!” she shouted.
“Over here,” he said. She couldn’t see him, though, and instead, followed the sound of his voice.
After a couple minutes of slow swimming, she made her way to him. He floated in the very bottom corner of the room, against the far edge, a place entirely draped in shadow, far away from any of the tube lights, the hatch indicators, or emergency lights.
“Blip, are you running away from me?”
“No.”
“Why won’t you open the gate?”
“If we’re going to do this, can we be smart about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not opening the gate. It’s too big. Too obvious. Remember what we heard from the other side.”
Help me. Syn remembered the soft voice so clear. The first words from another human’s throat to her ears.
“The Madness struck that side worse than here. It’s not safe. If there is someone alive, if Olorun is wrong, then they’re probably dangerous.”
Blip nodded.
“You suspected this the entire time.” Again, the urge to punt him across the room washed over her, and she did everything she could to push it back down. “So what’s your plan, oh great wise liar?”
“Stop that.” Blip paused a second before continuing, “There’s an alternate access hatch here.”
Syn stared ahead of her. It was solid metal. There was nothing distinct. Just the wall that surrounded the circular irised gate. “Where?”
Blip flashed something and a small, thin razor-line of white light appeared in a circle about two-feet wide. “It is only for bots. Only for companion bots. Only for us. There are fail-safes built into the entire ship—places only companion bots can access to keep those in our care safe.”
Syn shook her head. “You knew there were other companion bots? You said you had never seen another one when that thing crashed.”
He nodded but did not answer. Instead, he aimed himself at the wall. The white light dissolved to reveal a small opening just wide enough for her to crawl through. If Syn had been a boy, if she had been anything other than her petite form, she wouldn’t have made it. It was designed for Blip-sized bots and thin girls. “I’ll go first. Have your spear?”
Syn nodded. It was still clutched in her hand. She didn’t want to talk. She seethed. Lie after lie after lie. She kicked at the wall and pushed ahead of him, darting for the opening. “Liar,” she grunted.
Blip grunted. “Wait! Do you have everything? Your spear?”
She nodded again, feeling the reassuring weight in her hand, and motioned back to him, giving him the middle finger as she moved into the tube. For a moment, she reached to halt herself, thinking of Eku. No, she’ll be okay. Leave her in the happy place. She can be queen there in my absence.
“Fine,” he said and followed after.
14
Journal Entry: The Zoo
The Unauthorized Journal of Syn
Section 16
Composed 2757
I’m alone here on Olorun. That doesn’t mean I haven’t had to fight. I have often had to intercede for something smaller—animals attacking other animals. Most of the time, the bots assigned to feed them keep to their schedule, bringing up manufactured meat from the lower food levels. However, if the big predators don’t get their food allotment, some of them have gone a bit haywire. And some of them, like the lion, found a new joy in the hunt.
But I’ve also discovered when not to kill. Along with the lion, a tiger had escaped from the zoo. These were the largest of creatures that were of any concern. There were zebras and giraffes and monkeys. Those I let out myself. They needed to be able to romp around free.
I know I’m safe. They can’t hurt me. It’s hardwired into their DNA. But they can still hunt the rest of the animals. Survival of the fittest and all.
My first steps into the Zoo told me something was wrong. It was quiet, and the Zoo was never quiet. Set near my tree, the Zoo was arrayed in five wings, spreading out from the center. I had always been a bit on edge when I went into the Zoo. Unlike the rest of Olorun, it was the one place that didn’t light up when I entered. I suspect it’s because random lights coming on and off would upset the animals, but for whatever reason, the Zoo didn’t respond to my presence. Never had. And so, it was different than anywhere else we explored.
The animals in the cages knew me, as I was the only one visiting them, but they didn’t trust me. At first, Blip and I had considered letting all the animals out. But then, we realized that it would cause more trouble than it would solve. Besides, the bots were fairly good about keeping up on the food and checking in on the animals. The Zoo ran itself.
All that changed the day the Zoo went quiet. And it went quiet because most of the animals had escaped. All of the gates had opened at once. One of the main locking switches at the front gate had faulted out and opened everything else. I had watched Jurassic Park and always thought that sort of thing couldn’t happen…until it did. I have a theory it was one of the monkeys. Those things were crazy smart, and I’m sure one of them got loose and then tried to break its buddies out, accidentally opening up the gates for the others.
Blip and I ran down the list of the ones that had escaped after securing the ones that hung around. We had worked for several weeks to capture and bring several back. Some were just impossible to catch. The foxes in particular were quite challenging. We were getting to a bit of status quo as the predators started hunting the other escaped animals. I didn’t like the thought of them dying, but it was the natural order. Just needed to work to keep it in balance.
Then the lion had started killing for fun. I hated to do it, but I had to take that one down. It was pretty lazy, and it didn’t take much stalking to kill it. I hunted the beautiful beast, and when I found it, I stabbed it straight through with my spear. It was for that hunt I had made my spear originally. It did its job, and I never went out without it again. Designed to go first, to point the way, to keep me safe, and to draw blood. It did all four well.
Now there were wild things in Olorun, and so I had to keep myself safe. Blood spilled in Eden.
A few of the bots had tried to stop the lion. Lion vs. Bot—it was a great fight, but the bots didn’t stand a chance. The protector bots had been designed for deterring humans. They tried to stun the lion. I think it gave the lion a bit of a tickle. Useless.
Then, there was the tiger. It had killed an emu on the bank, but unlike the lion, it didn’t leave the carcass out. It had dragged it away.
I was fearful it had, like the lion, started killing for fun. It would be dangerous to the rest of us.
The tiger had left the lake and returned to where it slept each night. Neither Blip nor I could figure out where it was hiding. We had thought of different ways to canvas the area. We had tried my tree, and while it’s incredibly tall, it still gets lost in the canopy, and the field of view is limited. We ended up make a sniper’s nest from one of the Jacobs. It’s how I knew I could force the doors open. Blip had convinced number six to only go up a few dozen feet, just high enough to get a good view of some of the beast’s hunting grounds and low enough that we could get to it if we spotted it. We pushed the doors open and just hung out there. For days. We had stocked up on snacks, and Blip had flown out a few times to get me a few extra items from the tree or one of the reserves. Then one night after the sunstrips had faded and a subtle cerulean hue lit the entire Disc, we saw something move between the trees.
It was smart. It moved from bush to bush to high weed along the eastern end of the lake. We never did catch a look at the black and orange patterning, but we could see it clearly by how the foliage moved. We followed as the disruption in the leaves moved further toward the rise of living structures along the curve of the outer wall of the Disc.
It stopped from time to time, and we were sure we had lost it. The movement of the brush would stop and all would grow still. Far away we heard a small bird squawk but other than that, our world was silent and still.
Then it moved again. Finally, after minutes of watching this odd, random advance, the tiger broke from beyond the shrubbery and walked atop a stone bench and stood, staring behind it, daring someone—daring me. It knew I was following. It never looked at us, but there was a moment that I knew it was aware of our eyes on it. How? I don’t know. But it knew I could see it. It knew that its secrets were about to be revealed. But as it could not see who it sensed, the tiger shivered and then leaped from the bench onto the tile floor and walked into one of the main houses, a green condominium along the first-floor level. It disappeared in the shadow of the open doorway. It was going to sleep, aware that morning was coming soon.
I wouldn’t hunt it at night. It was too awake. Too alert. Too dangerous.
15
Through the Mirror
“For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
—Paul, 1 Corinthians 13:12, ESV
The gate assembly was thicker than she had imagined. They floated through the quiet corridor until Blip flashed red and stopped. The light of the access tunnel went out.
“Blip?” Syn said, a flood of fear washing over her.
“It’s fine,” he stated in a whisper, “Just be quiet.”
Always cautious Blip, Syn thought.
“Let me ahead. I’ll try to open it up,” he said.
She felt him push past her as she hugged the wall.
In front of them, an opening appeared. Only a faint glow of red lights was visible and that was broken up by harsh shadows. At best, the light was a glow cast from some far-off source. Syn couldn’t see much but she could smell something. Acrid. The air was pungent and the stench of chemicals wafted through the corridor. She took a breath and felt her throat burn. Her nose felt like it was on fire, and she started to cough. She struggled to hold it back, but the impulse was too powerful. One hand clamped over mouth, she began to cough. The sound echoed through the access chute and out into the major room.
Blip whirled around. “Stop,” he hushed.
It did no good. She continued to cough, her eyes watering with tears and her face turning red. She let loose her spear and brought both hands up to her face, trying to stifle the fit.
Blip glared and then flew out of the opening, into the room. For a brief moment, between coughs, between the haze of her watered eyes, she saw the red glow cast on Blip’s shell, and he looked like some ghastly spirit risen to haunt her.
The fit continued, but after a minute, it lessened until she was only hacking with an irritated throat. The air was still noxious in her nostrils. The smell was worse than anything she’d smelled before, save the air hovering the body farms, but even that smelled organic. The body farm produced chemicals that spoke of life and death. The smell from the other side of the gate was something else. It was unnatural. Unreal. And Syn hated it.
She floated there, bumping against the edges of the tunnel, wiping the water from her eyes. They’ve heard us. They’ve heard us, she thought. She wasn’t sure who “they” were. Blip seemed certain they were dangerous, and she’d accepted that fact on this side of the gate.
A moment passed and the fit subsided, she took shallow breaths, working to avoid more irritation. Again, it was only her and the hum of the engines. Where had Blip gone?
She started to speak when the red-hued orb of Blip flew back down to the front of the opening. “It’s okay,” he said. “The room on this side is empty. He glanced back behind him, “Well, not empty.” He scanned around and motioned with a slight nod at the floating debris littered around them. “Not like our side. But there’s no one over here. No one heard you.” Then he floated close to her. “Are you okay?”
Syn shut her eyes. His lying had hurt her. This brief moment, as he demonstrated he was still concerned for her, worked to heal that, and she recognized it. It wouldn’t resolve everything, not even the majority of it. But it helped a bit.
She nodded. “I’m fine.” She pushed out toward him. “It smells horrible.”
Blip turned on a few additional sensors. “Yes. There’s been a fire here.”
“The explosion?”
“Yes, that. And more.” He moved ahead of her and went up past her view.
She followed after, pulling herself out of the access point. As she exited, she heard a small whoosh and looked back to see that way vanish. Just as on the other side, if there was a hatch there, she couldn’t tell it. It was simply a wall. A huge iron wall. She followed the wall up and out. The room was bathed in red glow from several orbs floating in the center of the room. Large chunks of debris and machinery floated around. There was no clear path from one side to the other. Only crimson, mangled chunks of metal before them.
In the depths of the room, she lost the far chunks in a haze of smoke. Something had been burning on this side. The smoke still pumped from somewhere unseen. She could see the clouds of white smoke billowing up and out, continually filling the space.
“Stay close,” Blip said.
She nodded. She didn’t need the reminder. She hadn’t expected this. Although she wasn’t sure what she had expected.
Nostalgia caught her. Not for the location but for the experience. In the early years, after descending into the Disc, she’d explored day after day. Every morning brought a new site and unexpected danger. The trek they were making now was foreign.
“I missed this,” she said to Blip as they pushed off from the edge toward the center of the room.
Blip didn’t respond. Perhaps he didn’t hear. She was glad that he hadn’t acknowledged because she felt embarrassed as she uttered it. A bit immature.
They moved further into the room. They grappled and rolled around larger chunks of machinery. Each piece dented and smashed as if they had been mauled by some gigantic hand attempting to create a snowball. Yet, the pieces were twice her height. How did they get them up in the room? Where had the machines come from?
Amongst the debris, scorched bots floated. Several had been fused together in the he
at of the explosion and formed a ball floating in the space before them. Why were bots up here?
On the other side, it was called the gate room. She did not want to call this the gate room. Those words were accompanied by a sense of awe. On the mirror side, this room brought only waves of revulsion. There was nothing reverent in the array of debris and the sickening smells and the wafting smoke.
On the mirror-side… She thought about that word. They had done just that—passed into a mirrored version of their world, as if passing through the glass itself.
If the other side was the gate room, then this was the mirror room. “The mirror room,” she muttered aloud.
Blip paused, his pace already slowed by the growing amount of debris in their way. “Huh?”
“This side is a mirror image.
“Through a glass darkly...” Blip quoted.
“Paul,” she said.
“You remember.”
Syn pulled at a piece of debris. As it spun, a ghastly visage stared up at her. Syn gave a startled gasp.
Blip halted and spun toward her and then followed her stare.
The debris she had just moved around was not metal. It was a body. Burned and ravaged beyond recognizability.
Syn swam around it. The body was still. No breathing. It continued its rotation until it faced away from them, and Syn felt a wash of relief as the face disappeared from view.
Blip nudged it. “It’s dead.”
“Scanned it?”
“Very dead. But that’s not all.”
The body slowly rotated until it faced up again.
“Oh,” said Syn as she caught a look at the blackened face. There was no surprise this time as she studied the corpse. She had seen her share of dead bodies. They were everywhere until Blip had programmed some dumb bots to haul them off to the body farms. Even years past their clearing of the Disc, they still found an occasional set of bones in the wild, its flesh torn from it by the animals roaming free.
Onliest Page 10
