"Seriously. Ice. One of the concerns is that we'd get to Kapteyn's B and most of the water would be frozen in the caps like it was on Mars. So they prepared to deal with it the same way."
"With a bomb?"
"They bombed the ice caps on Mars, and it melted the water."
"They were idiots."
"The Martians? The Colonists?"
"All of them. The Builders."
Blip nodded.
Syn continued, "And Neci. She's just like them."
"How?"
"Insane. Who hunts for a bomb? Where did she get it? We never came across a bomb in any of our searches."
Blip remained oddly silent.
Syn frowned and crossed her arms. "Where did she get the bomb?"
Blip matched her frown. "I think she had help."
"From who? The burly's?"
"The what?”
“Her creatures. The lumbering things that attacked us when we first arrived. She called them golem.”
“Maybe.” He nodded. “Maybe from Olorun. Maybe.”
“The plans!” Syn exclaimed, “She discovered the plans to the entire ship. Every detail. That’s it. That’s how she found it.” Syn stared at him, but her attention snapped back toward the base as she remembered the Ecology. She waved her arms and swam toward the doors facing inward. She rested her hand on the glass. “We’re not moving, Blip. How long have we been just sitting here?”
Blip nodded. “A bit. I’ve halted the Jacob.”
“I need to get down there. I need to stop it.”
“You can’t do that.”
She turned around. Her eyes were wide. Her voice shook. “Then what are we going to do?”
“You’re not deactivating the bomb. I don’t know how much longer we have before it goes off. It may go off in the time it takes to get back down the surface.”
“Then start going! We can’t waste any time.”
“What are you going to do when we get there?”
“I can figure that out on the way.”
Blip growled, “If you think we’re going to land and then you just take—"
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Blip allowed a short twerp that wasn’t a word. The Jacob hummed to life and began to descend. “It is my job.”
“You don’t need to do it.”
Blip floated up to her to look her in the eyes. “It is. You want to know why your Sisters killed their companions? Because we can’t stop giving you the right advice or what we think is right.”
“She said they killed them because they talked to Olorun. I didn’t believe her at first. But I’m beginning to think she’s right. Blip, is Olorun alive?
Blip stayed motionless for a long moment and then gave a nod. “Yes. She is. But she is insane and—”
Syn did not allow him to finish the thought. “Have you been telling her about me?”
Blip didn’t respond for a moment, then he gave a slight nod. “She’s very interested in you.”
“What? Why?”
“I don’t…”
“Don’t say that!”
“I don’t.”
“Ugh,” Syn grimaced. “Fine, I won’t go to the bomb. What can we do?”
“I’m trying to communicate with the other bots. But they’ve done something with the code on this Disc. There're all sorts of foreign layers. I could probably get through it and find a way to figure out what’s happening, tap into their info net, but I don’t think I could do it quickly.”
“So you have no way of knowing where they are or if any one of them survived.”
Blip shook, “You have to realize that they probably didn’t make it.”
Syn frowned. “We need to try.”
“Okay, let me think.”
With each moment, the gravity increased and Syn found herself closer and closer to the floor of the Jacob.
“I think I may have it,” Blip floated back to the control panel in the corner. A few red symbols popped up. Syn didn’t understand them at all.
“Yes?” Syn asked. She waved her hands to encourage him to speed up.
“I think there may be a base net communication port not too far from this tower’s base.”
“And?”
“And if they’re at all connected to the network in this Disc, even if they don’t use it, they should be able to get something from one of the info hubs.”
“What were they for?”
“Do you care?”
“We have a few minutes. Tell me the story,” Syn insisted.
“That’s just it. There’s a hub that ties in all bot communication. I never used it on our Disc. It was a backup unit in case primary communications failed. There’s an access point near the parks and the lake.”
Syn shook her head. “There’s no lake in this world.”
Blip narrowed his eyes.
“She burned it all.”
“Fine. We’re in Jacob 14. The comm hub is a good three kilometers away from here.”
“Then we run.”
“Three kilometers?”
Syn leaned in, “Will the hub let us find them?”
“It’ll send them a message. If there’s any alive, they’ll hear it. What do you want to say?”
“I…I don’t know,” Syn said, “We need to get them away.”
“Come to the needle?”
“Yes. Tell them I’ve come back for them. That it’s okay to use the Jacobs.” Syn remembered standing at the edge of the Desert of Nod as the host of bots gathered to see her off. She remembered her last words to them. “Tell them I’m keeping my promise. We’re taking them to Paradise. To our Disc.” She glanced up toward the sunstrips.
“You want to rescue them!” Blip rolled his eyes.
Syn nodded her head but went back to the window. She breathed onto the glass, fogging it up, and traced her finger in the haze. Before she realized what she was doing, she had written KERWEN in a rough handwriting. When she finished, she stared at the letters and then through them, out to the dark clouds they were now passing through. Gravity had reasserted and her feet were flat on the floor. She sighed. “How long did it take her to fall?”
Blip paused and then said, “She might still be falling.”
Syn spun, wide-eyed.
Blip said, “We were really high up. It’ll take a while for her to drop to where gravity pulls her into free-fall.”
The image stunned Syn. Kerwen slowly descending, gaining a bit of speed each time, unsure when she’d be pulled down in a straight descent. Did she try to do something to stop her fall? Is she still up there? Could we do something? Could we save her?
Blip said, “No.”
Syn raised her eyebrows. She knew she hadn’t spoken.
Blip smiled, “I’ve been around you long enough. That was your ‘Can we help someone?’ face. It isn’t going to happen. There’s absolutely nothing that we can do. I don’t even know how to find her.”
“Then…”
Blip nodded and finished her thoughts, “She’s dead.”
Perhaps it was the stress of the day, the joy of finding Blip, but the word “death” cut into Syn and the emotion she had ignored, that she was not even aware was there, rushed out, and she began to cry. She crumpled to the floor, in the center of the Jacob. How was this possible? Just days ago, she had ruled her world. She had been alone and certain she would always be alone. She had met other humans and discovered they were awful.
She checked herself on that thought as she wiped the tears away. They were not all awful. The very person who told Syn they were evil might be alright. Even then, she did not feel as if she could go back and redeem that moment.
“Blip,” Syn looked up. She sniffed and gave a slight cough. She wiper her tears and nose on her shirt and then fingered the orange tiger dangling at her neck. “I can’t do it.”
Blip hovered down to her.
She continued as Blip edged against her, “I don’t think I can solve this. Let’s just go home.”
Blip floated around, “Are you sure?”
Syn looked at him and then out the window. The clouds outside were dispersing. They were below the cloud layer. The base was only a few moments away—maybe a minute.
Blip pressed, “Can we go home?”
“I don’t know. I can’t leave them.” She picked at a spot on her leg. “I don’t know.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Will you be with me?”
Blip nodded. “Always. And forever.”
“If we screw this up, you won’t hate me.”
Blip shook his head.
Syn stood up just as the Jacob began to slow its descent.
Blip smiled. “Your next move will need to be you running.”
“Why?”
With a simple whoosh, the Jacob completely stopped. A silent shaking seized the cabin. She and Blip knew the routine of how the Jacob worked. The outer doors would soon open. There would be a quick pressurization, and the inner doors would pop open.
“Ready to sprint?” Syn called out.
Syn crouched and pulled down her goggles, one of the gifts from the Barlgharel and the Ecology. She instinctively reached for her spear but cringed when she remembered it was now in Taji’s possession. Once more, Syn would head into the desert, this time to save the Ecology. She was keeping her promise. She was returning for them.
The doors hissed open, and Syn prepared to bolt into the darkness.
39
Abel’s Blood
"When Eve saw the serpent touch the tree and did not die,
she picked up one of the fruits that had fallen and . . . tasted it.
But no sooner had she taken a single bite . . .
and she saw the angel of Death standing before her, with his sword drawn."
—Midrash, Bereshit Rabbah, 19:3-4
The doors opened with a smooth reveal. Syn raced ahead but stopped hard as there before her, glowering, was the towering Taji, her knuckles bare as she held Syn’s own spear in front of her. The thick-limbed girl stared through narrow eyes, growling.
Syn didn’t wait to talk. Didn’t choose to exchange words. Instead, she leapt forward with all of her energy and slammed into the girl. Taji was larger. She was more muscular. But it was still muscle on the same frame that shaped Syn. She might hold Syn’s spear, but she wasn’t used to it—didn’t have the ease of movement that Syn did.
Taji hit the dirt with a grunt. A bit down, below the dirt, was solid concrete. They were in the middle of one of the plazas that the Jacobs opened up to. Around them, peaking up from the blackened dirt, were statues and concrete end posts. One statue, larger than the others, caught Syn’s eye—a metal, abstract form that looked like a sword or spear, aimed at the heavens, piercing through three halo-shaped rings that rotated around the central shaft, hovering about it. The shape of the Plaza was visible through the jutting pieces. The desert rolled out beyond that.
The fall on the concrete was enough to daze Taji. Syn hopped back up and spun. She wanted her spear. She wanted something to keep this other girl at a distance. She knew she might out-fight Taji, but there was still a sliver of fear. Taji was deadly. Like a hyena.
Jumping to her feet, Syn spun and kicked hard at Taji’s head. Her toes connected, but Taji was expecting it—waiting for something—and was already rolling away. Her hand reached out and snagged Syn’s ankle and hefted up. Taji came to her feet, and Syn landed hard on her back.
Blip was above her in an instant and put himself between the two girls.
Syn motioned him away. She pushed up with her arm and pointed behind her, “Blip—get to the hub. I’ll take her.”
Taji laughed. “I’ve flattened you before.”
Blip whirled around. “She’s nothing. I’ve got this.”
Syn snarled, “How’d you get here so fast?”
Taji ignored both of them. “I told Neci you’d be stupid enough to come back down. So she let me come down and check. I’m always right, and she knows it.”
“Leave me alone!” Syn roared. “I told you to leave me alone! I don’t want you here!”
Taji crossed the distance faster than Syn could believe, faster than Blip could react. Taji back-handed Syn and sent her flying through the air to smack hard against the large metal statue.
Syn let loose a harsh “Oomph.”
Blip charged Taji and slammed into her side, sending her reeling.
Syn yelled to him, “Get to the hub!”
“No!” Blip shot back, still hovering over the fallen body of Taji. The girl was already pushing herself back up.
A piece of the sculpture hung loose—one of the halos. Syn glanced at the sculpture. One of the three teetered. Syn grabbed ahold of the base of the statue to haul herself to her feet.
Taji dove for Blip, but he flew up and away.
Syn yelled again, her hand wrapped around the loosened halo of the statue and pulled it free. “Get to the hub!”
“Fine.” Blip spun to get a glimpse of her and then swung back around to look at the readying Taji. And then he was up again, straight up, and flying fast toward the hub.
Now she would not need to sprint. All she would have to do was survive Taji. She swore inwardly.
Taji took a step forward. Syn crouched to ready herself again. She lifted the halo-like piece from the statue and held it out between her and Taji.
Taji laughed, “What are you doing?”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Syn said.
“Do you know what I can do?”
Syn did not answer. Seconds passed. Blip fled far away, becoming a small dot on the horizon. At that speed, he’d cover the distance in no time. Would it be enough? Could Syn hold off Taji until he returned? And when he did, would even he be enough to take Taji down?
Taji started again, “Do you know what I have done?”
Syn studied her sister, gauging her reactions.
Taji growled, “I was the one that killed them. If Neci wanted them dead, I did it. I’ve killed so many of our Sisters. You’re just one more. You’re not even one we care about.”
Syn shivered. A tremor of fear bloomed, and she felt a sense of paralysis. What could she do against someone who knew how she thought, who had killed versions of herself over and over and over? Taji seemed perfectly designed to be a Syn killer.
Then, Syn smiled. How had not grasped it earlier? Taji was still weaker. Syn had lived her own life alone. Syn had grown up on her own. Taji, instead, had others around. Always. Syn wondered if that meant she ended up doing less work. Maybe a small difference, but in the long-term, perhaps Taji simply did not have Syn’s stamina. Maybe she was a brute. No maybe about it—Taji was a beast in attitude and stature. It was her defining quality. It was the angry part of Syn that just wanted to hit things when it went wrong. Anger and size were Taji’s tools. But not the cold tenacity that isolation brings.
Syn took a chance. “Do you think she’ll share?”
Taji couldn’t hide her confusion. Syn had seen her own confused face. She recognized the twitch of muscles alongside the eyes that forced them to narrow in suspicion. Perfect.
Syn continued. “I think when you’re over there, one of us is going to have to take out the other.”
“You’re not going to be over there.”
“Then it’s you versus Pigeon.”
“I’d smash Pigeon. She’s a piece of trash. She’s worthless. Neci can’t stand her. Who cares about Pigeon?”
“And then it’ll be just you and…” Syn’s words were cut off by an audible scream from far above them.
Both Taji and Syn turned their heads sharply to see the sound. Something was falling— Something fell from the sky and landed with a harsh thud just meters away.
Syn turned, “We need to…”
But it was too late. It was Kerwen. She had finally fallen.
Syn convulsed and heaved. Her dinner from the night before came up and spewed across the ground.
Taji began to l
augh. The girl held her stomach and roared.
Syn heaved again. A thin line of spittle ran across her lips. She stared around, bringing her head up. She spat on the ground, leaving a small divot in the hard-pan. She ran her lips across her sleeve, wiping the spittle and vomit away.
Kerwen was dead. She had seen Kerwen slam into the ground. She could see the shape of the flattened body. There lay her sister—a dark spot in the miasma of the smoke.
With her free hand, Taji picked up a rock from the ground and tossed it in the air, catching it with a single hand. “You stupid, little bitch. If that one survived, we’ll use its scrambled brains to make another golem.”
Syn stabbed at Kerwen’s corpse, “That was your sister!”
“I. Don’t. Care.” Taji said. “I don’t care about you, and I don’t care about her.” With that, she threw the rock as hard as she could. It flew through the air in a clean, straight trajectory and slammed into Syn’s chin, knocking her back. Syn palmed the base of the statue behind her to steady herself.
A line of blood appeared, pooled, and then began to drip down Syn’s chin. Syn roared as she ran at Taji. But just before she collided, she ducked, anticipating the brute retaliation from Taji.
Taji swung the spear, but she went too high, completely missing the battered Syn. Syn curled in and kneed Taji hard in the gut.
The girl toppled over, clutching her stomach, grunting, “You bitch.”
Syn didn’t stop. She punched Taji with her fist, landing it squarely on the girls’ cheek. Now it would come down to endurance. Syn was sure she could outlast Taji. But she also could not dance with her, allowing Taji to keep returning more powerful responses back.
Syn kicked Taji’s chest but pulled back the shot, avoiding the girl’s head. Taji used the moment to slice into Syn’s calve with Syn’s own spear. Blood spurted across the ground. Taji herself was splattered with the blood.
As Syn fell to the ground and saw Taji’s face covered in her own blood, she wondered if there was any difference between their blood. Perhaps they had different names and took different approaches building upon the same body, but probably the blood was identical. If they extracted it, could anyone tell the difference between each strain? Syn wasn’t sure why the thought arose, unbidden, but it flowed and formed.
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