Syn wanted to see the Ecology outside. Were her friends there? Had Arquella and Bear come with them? Despite their oddities, the Ecology was the brightest moment of joy she had experienced on this side. The Ecology had accepted her. They had been kind. They welcomed her and embraced her. Syn found herself inching closer and closer to the wall. A thin bit of gray light peaked through the umber boards that braced the metallic wall. She peered through the slot. The sight took her breath away.
Outstretched before the walls, pouring down the hillside and wrapping up the surrounding dunes was the largest array of bots she had seen. There were harvest-bots, service bots, several large jellyfish floating above the mass, cleaning bots scurrying across the ground, medics, farmers, repairman. She spotted several that looked like Arquella. One of them likely was Arquella, but she couldn’t tell. There were the micro-bots, no larger than a mouse, whipping in and out of the others. Yet, in the mass of bots, she did not see the Barlgharel. There was not even another sewer bot that she could confuse for him.
Syn felt a pang of hope. She spoke, “They came for me.” She glanced back at the Sisters. The Crimson Queen stood in front, her shoulders squared and undeterred.
Syn turned and eyed the mass of bots, all shouting, “Expected. Expected,” in unison. A tear rolled down her blood-stained cheek. They had come for her. They had conquered their fear of the desert and Zondon Almighty and the Crimson Queen herself. For her.
At that moment, Syn realized she wanted to be back with the Ecology. There was no question. But she didn’t want it to be all or nothing. There was still Kerwen and Pigeon, and she had begun to love them—they were becoming true sisters more than just in name. She didn’t want to have to choose between the two camps. Yet, she found herself shouting, “I’m here!”
The sounds outside turned raucous. The voice boomed, “We see her now! Give us the Expected. Release her.”
Above the wall, above her, looking down, although far away, floated a single ball—much smaller than Arquella, but Syn was familiar with the type: eye-bots, just like the crimson one she had rescued from the crater. They were the first on most any scene in her Disc, analyzing and helping to coordinate the other bots to respond. Here they were informers. She stared at it. Huck? No, it didn’t move like him.
Kerwen picked up a rock and threw it over the wall. It clinked against something, and she smiled broadly.
Neci screeched, “Get her away from there!”
Taji yanked Syn back from the wall and grunted, “Why do they want the little piece of dirt anyway?”
Ignoring the question, Neci whispered to Kerwen, “Is all ready?”
Kerwen nodded. “I have three loaded and ready. We can leave and go to the seventeenth without delay. It’s working fine. I used it a few days back, and it’s a straight shot to the needle.”
Syn wore a puzzled response. The seventeenth Jacob lift must be several kilometers away. They’d pass at least one other Jacob between here and there.
Kerwen caught Syn’s puzzled look and answered her unasked question, “The machines won’t think we’d go further than we have to. Just can’t think like that. Little morons will check out the closer Jacobs. Or the settlements.”
“We’re leaving?” Syn asked, “They won’t hurt us. Just let me…”
“Get her. Shut her up,” Neci barked.
The two burlys were on her, pulling her back from the wall.
Neci turned and marched away as the crowd of bots outside began to slam themselves against the walls. Neci spoke, “All. We’re leaving. Now.” She pointed at Pigeon. “Make sure the grav plates are secure on her companion.” She then stabbed a finger at Taji, “And you grab…The Expected.” She spoke the phrase with a sneer.
Pigeon dashed off into the dark corridors, fast as a blur.
“You’re not buying that load, are you?” Taji asked, punching a meaty paw into Syn’s arm.
Syn struggled in the grasp of the burly, kicking and punching at him. She shouted, “Let go!” It definitely wasn’t Admiral—the grip was cruel.
Neci laughed. “If we get through the gate, I’ll call her Messiah.”
The burly didn’t relax. It tromped after Neci, holding the struggling Syn close. His grip was nearly unbreakable. Still, she continued to kick and hit at him.
After a trek through the maze to the far side of Zondon Almighty, through the careening, tight passages, they came to an open room with three floats, loaded with gear. Pigeon was already there, a bag floating ahead of her, held in place between her hands. The shape of Blip was discernible through the burlap. Pigeon had been fast. She had darted to the far edge of the small city and then back here while they took a direct route.
Pigeon never wore a smug look. There was no haughtiness. Yet, Syn detected something of pride in her stance now. Perhaps her legs were a bit straighter. Maybe she stood a bit taller and did not hunch her shoulders. Had Syn’s reversal against Neci changed the girl’s mood? Did Pigeon feel she had beaten Neci somehow?
Neci didn’t even spare a glance at the tiny girl. She began to speak, “We need to move fa…”
She was interrupted by a massive boom. An explosion reverberated through all of Zondon, shaking the ground below their feet and causing the walls to rattle. A second later, the sound of crashing metal reached them.
Kerwen exclaimed, “They’ve broken the wall!”
“Morons,” Taji said, spitting on the ground. “Stupid machines.”
Neci instead sat down on one of the floats and propped her legs up on the running board.
The burly planted Syn down on another hover bike and held her down with two brawny hands on her shoulders. She shrugged and stopped struggling. “Fine,” she grunted. The vehicle jostled but righted itself quickly with the weight. A sense of satisfaction rushed over Syn. At least the technology was consistent. The hover bikes were the same here as they were in her world. At this realization, she smiled as she turned to face Neci.
Neci spoke, “Horrible little machines. And they want you.”
“Why do you hate them so much?” Syn asked.
Neci smiled, “They’re useless. Can’t get them to do anything. Can’t threaten. Can’t control. These…” she nodded at the golem, “Are so much easier to lead.”
“Of course you can’t control them!” Syn shouted, “They’re living!”
“They’re machines. They’re stupid. Someone’s controlling them,” Taji offered.
Neci shook her head. “They are the eyes and ears of the bitch above.”
“So is she controlling them now? Does she want Syn?” Kerwen asked.
Was Olorun truly alive? Was she a thinking machine like Blip and the Barlgharel? Syn wanted to ask. Syn started to ask. She’d love to compare notes, to get to the bottom of this. And right now, Neci seemed to be interested, to be kind. But then Pigeon’s final words last night ran through her mind. She’s wicked. Twisted. The carnage of the workshop flashed in her memory. In response to Neci, Syn said, “So who twisted you?”
“Twisted? That’s a nice word.” Neci winked at her. “Let’s not do this now. We have an appointment.”
The din of the robotic onslaught grew. The metal buildings behind them crashed one after another.
“They really want our guest,” Kerwen said.
“On the floats. They’re nearing the center of the city,” Neci ordered.
The Sisters and Syn were joined by several more burlys. They spread out onto the hover bikes. Syn sat between Taji and the thin burly that held her in place. Pigeon, Kerwen, and Neci on the other, with Admiral behind her. And three other burlys on the third. They moved out. The bikes were quiet, but she appreciated their soft hum. Their recognizable hum. Syn nodded at Pigeon, “Good job on keeping these in great shape.”
Taji looked back, “What do you mean?”
“These are in great shape. They take a lot of work.”
Taji chewed her lip and bobbed her neck. The muscled girl rolled her shoulders and said. “The one who
fixed these isn’t around.”
Pigeon whispered, “Tulce.”
Syn repeated the name. Taji jabbed her with an elbow just as the hover sped forward. Syn started to totter off the bike as the burly snagged her shoulders. She moaned as she struggled to breathe. So Pigeon wasn’t the only one connected to Tulce. Taji felt that pain too. Don’t say anything about Tulce to anyone. Don’t make Taji mad.
The bikes zipped through the back wall. Nothing but darkened sand dunes greeted them. If it was day, it was hard to tell. The gray of the sky formed a seamless gradient with the drab sands.
The air was still, and she could see the rolling of the hills in front of them—a silent world that didn’t want to be disturbed.
They were nearly two kilometers or more beyond Zondon when Neci’s bike, in lead, slowed and then stopped. Syn guessed at the distance from the location of the Jacob pylons near them. The scenery was all so monotonous that she was unable to discern their location with any accuracy.
Neci turned her bike around and pointed it at the city.
Taji copied the action. As they slowed, Taji chuckled, “Watch this.”
Seconds passed, and they saw nothing. Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of light. Syn shielded her eyes, but it was too late. She was seeing spots and couldn’t orient herself. The thunder of a massive explosion followed and a moment—not even a second later—a shockwave slammed against her. It felt like a wall, and it slammed into her chest like a fist and then lifted her up and threw her against the sand. A second wave hit moments after. She blinked and saw, frozen in the fraction of a moment, the others spinning wildly through the air. Syn hit the ground again and tumbled. There was a loud ringing sound—a high-pitch whine that blocked out everything else. She shut her eyes from the stinging of the sand. Burning. Everything felt like it was on fire. Her eyes. Her ears. Her skin. She laid in the sand, and a wash of heat rolled over her back. Her head must be in the sand, she thought, but wasn’t sure how she knew that. The heat began to sting. It hurt so bad. She picked up her head and wailed. Pain. Pain. Pain. She couldn’t think of anything but the pain.
Then darkness.
When next she remembered, there were other voices. Her voice. “Lift her up. Make sure she’s breathing.” And “That was stupid.” “Torch the whole place.” Then a quieter echo of her voice, “Foolish.” Somewhere, in Syn’s own mind, that word had formed. All of this was foolish. Foolish that I hadn’t ran. Foolish I am still living. Foolish that I almost died. Foolish that I had even come here.
The voices continued, and she began to separate them.
“It hurts.”
“I know it does.” The cadence was slower. Neci. Control. Elegance. Even in the tragedy. There was something about this copy of her that she found enticing. Neci was always controlled. She could see why the others obeyed her. She had a mastery over herself that Syn could only dream of. Somewhere, far below, she had dreamed of being the person that Neci was. Never panicked. Never…Anything but Neci.
“They won’t be following us. ‘Sides, you knew what was coming.” Taji’s voice was the closest. She was above Syn. The girl rolled Syn over onto her back. Syn coughed, and Taji bellowed, “Blast. She’s still alive.”
Kerwen shouted from far away. “You lost one of the golems. It didn’t duck.”
The others shouted back and forth amongst themselves. They righted the hover bikes. They assessed each other’s wounds. Except for the loss of the burly and Syn’s daze, the collection managed without much injury.
Syn, with the help of Kerwen, stood up. She took the other girl’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She maintained the grip just a moment longer. The touch of another person was still so new to Syn. It was beginning to feel like a compulsion. Just a bit of a longer touch. Just to feel their skin. Even though their skin was the same as her own. It was warmed by another heart, by different blood.
Kerwen shook her hand free and stepped away. Syn turned and looked back at Zondon Almighty. Or, where Zondon Almighty had been. Now there was nothing by a thick rising cloud of black smoke. Far above, the pillar ended in a conical shape. The surface of the clouds was illuminated a bright orange from the fires in the ruins of the city. Syn stammered, “What…What was that?”
Neci was already back on her hover. “Impressive, eh?”
Syn took a few more steps in the direction of the burning city. “You did that? On purpose?”
Taji laughed. “They won’t follow us now.”
“But that was your home!”
Neci shook her head and motioned to both Pigeon, who stood quiet, and Taji to take their seats. “The machines had to die—they weren’t going to stop pursuing you. They would follow us to Eden. They had to be ended.”
Syn felt paralyzed. She stumbled forward and shouted, “Arquella! Huck!” The throng of bots was dead. All of the Ecology. Were there a hundred standing outside the city? Far more than that. Thousands? Several thousands? Syn’s vision blurred, and she cried. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and glared at Neci. Arquella believed she herself had been human once. She’d had dreams. She’d had her own thoughts and emotions. Huck and Bear had been loyal and caring. And now they were a pool of molten metal. Murder.
Taji was still boasting, jabbing a finger at Neci. “Told you that it would work. You doubted me.”
Pigeon was back on the bike with Neci. “We said you should leave it where you found it.”
Taji’s face was still enraptured. “I was sure it would work.”
“It worked,” Neci said. “I needed it to work. We needed it.”
Syn gasped, “We needed it?”
Neci narrowed her eyes. “Are you a part of ‘we’?”
Syn ignored the question and took a step in her direction. “Why do you make these decisions for the rest of them?”
“If you think you’re ready to be a part of us again, just let me know. You just have to do your part. Until then, you have no voice in what we do.”
“You killed them!” Syn was stepping closer to Neci, her arm pointed behind her, her finger jabbing at Zondon Almighty. “You killed each of those bots. They were living! You killed them!”
Neci sat on the bike, smiling.
Syn cleared the distance and Taji stood up to intercept. Neci didn’t move.
Syn shouted, “Stop smiling. You just killed a thousand people! You just killed all of them. Stop calling them machines! They were alive! They danced! They painted! They are more alive than you. They created wonderful things, and everything you create is ugly and broken and twisted!”
Neci stood, unmoved and unfazed by Syn’s declarations.
Taji laughed, “They were machines.” She stood only a foot or two ahead Syn. She had maneuvered there without Syn’s notice. The girl was not only large but, like Pigeon, she was stealthy.
Pigeon glared at Syn, raising a finger to her lips. She repeated Taji’s words, “They’re machines.” Pigeon did not glance away. There was no fear or shame in her stare. Just cold control now.
She stared back at the flames of the city. In the flames of the Zondon Almighty, she saw images of the future: her Disc burning. Her tree. Her river. Her world. In flame.
Taji yanked at Syn’s shirt and pulled her back to their hover. Neci nodded and sped away to the Jacob. Taji pulled Syn close. “You’re crossing lines. Once we get to that gate, you either prove you’ve had a change of heart or—”
Syn was not listening. If she were to flee, now would be the time. There was only Kerwen’s bike with her burlys. Then Taji and her. She could run. But as she moved her foot to turn, a jab of pain shot through her leg.
Syn’s own spear was jammed against her ankle—the spear held tightly in Taji’s hand. The girl glared, “No fast moves.”
“That’s mine!” Syn hissed.
Taji pulled the spear back, spinning it in the air and looking over the cracked shaft. “Now, it’s mine. Get on the bike.”
36
Journal Entry: The Salv
ation of Eku
The Unauthorized Journal of Syn
Section 18
Composed 2758
Blip wanted us to give the tiger time and distance. I didn’t. I wanted to see it again. Okay—I wanted to see the cubs again.
The next day, Blip reluctantly followed me back into the settlements, back to the tiger and its makeshift den. We navigated through the halls and doors, carefully watching before and after. Blip glowed a bright green, watching everything, all sensors on high.
“Anything?” I asked, for the fifteen-hundredth time in the last ten minutes.
Blip sighed and then chirped, “No. Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“That’s the same question.”
“But nothing? Absolutely nothing?”
“There’s nothing around. There’s no tiger stalking around,” Blip said.
We were only four rooms away from the den, and a chill ripped down my back—my skin went to gooseflesh—and I froze. I gripped my spear tighter and lifted it up, pointing the tip into the darkness ahead.
“What is it?” Blip asked.
But I didn’t know. I’m not sure what caused the shiver. Just an assurance that something was wrong.
We took a step ahead, and I heard my own footfall.
I hadn’t heard my steps last time. Last time we entered, I had been listening to something else—the gentle purr of the cubs nuzzled against their mother.
There was no purring. I whispered, “I can’t hear the cubs.”
But quieter, less constant, were occasional grunts and snorts. Wet sounds. Violent.
We stepped slower. I was crouched, ready to leap.
The mismatched sounds of heavy breathing grew louder as we drew closer.
Then we entered the room—cautious and slow.
Hyenas.
There in the makeshift den, the hyenas had ambushed the tiger. The scene was ghastly. Blood was splattered across the walls. The three hyenas were ripping into the carcass of the tiger and the cubs. Near my feet was the body of one of the cubs. Its neck had been snapped, and there was already a large chunk of flesh ripped out of its body. The blood pulled around it, staining its orange fur into a brilliant crimson.
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