Syn stammered, “I didn’t. She tried to—” Why was she explaining herself to Neci? Why the compulsion to answer for this?
“You’re just like me,” Neci hissed, eyeing the orbiting bots.
“I’m nothing like you.”
Neci smiled, “Did it feel good to kill Taji?”
“Shut up,” Syn retorted.
“It felt so good the first time. I didn’t want to admit it, but afterward, I couldn’t stop reliving the feeling. My fingertips digging into the skin. That moment where the heat of their body switches off—it only drops a degree, but you know something has left it. What about you? Did you kill Taji up close or far away? I know Kerwen was a far-away one.”
“Shut up,” Syn shouted, “I didn’t kill her!”
“Oh, but she’s dead isn’t she? Hmmm. I think you did it up close. You’re so much like me—you couldn’t do it at a distance. Had to be personal.”
“I’m not like you at all.”
In the debris, the charred corpse of the first girl Syn had encountered on this side floated by. Laoule. Her blackened hair whipped around. Syn pointed, “What about her? Did you kill her? What was her name?”
“You’re just like me. We’re identical. Don’t you get that? The only thing that makes you and me different is which side of this hellhole you woke up on. I woke up with forty other mouths depending on me. Forty other half-baked versions of myself. We’re all alike. We all breathe the same way. When we both woke up, our thoughts were identical. If you had woken up over here, and I had been on your Disc, it would’ve been the exact same way. You would’ve killed when you had to kill. You would’ve torched this Disc. You would’ve flooded it. You would’ve kept having to kill to protect those you loved. Don’t you see? If I had woken up on your side, I would’ve been the perfect unblemished princess without any of this hell to go through! I could stand there lecturing myself right now. We are the same. We are the same!”
Laoule’s burnt body floated lazily up and then seemed to hang in the space between them as if willed to stop by some outside force.
Neci was shouting at Syn. Her fists were tight, and her knuckles blazed white. “We are the same! You don’t get to stand there and tell me how awful I am. There’s nothing different about what we would’ve done. You are just as horrible as I am! Don’t you think I know what I’ve done? Don’t you think I’ve hated it? Don’t you think if there were another way about it I would have taken it? I had to do it! I had to save us! They were all depending on me. I didn’t have a choice!”
Neci pointed at the half-shell of Blip floating against Syn. “That should be mine! I should still have Puck. I should still have a companion. But this stupid ship made a dumb mistake. It put me over here. But I’m going to go over, and you’re going to open that gate!”
Syn was crying. There was something in Neci’s words that felt too right. Syn whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Neci shouted, “What did you say?”
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” Syn continued. She floated closer to Neci.
Neci was confused—her eyes wide in astonishment. The red lights illuminated them, making her eyes dance like candles in the dark.
Syn said, “You’re right.”
Blip floated closer, “No, she isn’t.”
“Yes, she is,” Syn said. “You’re absolutely right. I would’ve done the exact same things. I’m sorry you didn’t wake up with me.”
Neci narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
“But you shouldn’t have done those things.”
“You just said you knew you would’ve done them.”
“It doesn’t make them right. It just means I’d make the same mistakes. You’re still wrong. Pigeon said it. You’re twisted.”
Neci glanced back at Pigeon who was looking straight ahead, at Laoule’s charred corpse as it floated between them.
Syn saw it now. Neci amongst all of her corpses. She was reminded of the hyenas amongst the carcasses of the tigress and her cubs. Syn spoke, resolute in her declaration. “But you’ve done them. And you’ll keep on doing them. And I can’t let you over.”
“You have to go through,” Neci said, “You have to open the gate.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” Blip added. “We have to get to Olorun. I have to talk to her.” Blip’s voice was a quiet whisper in Syn’s ear.
Syn spoke, “You’re not going through.”
“Are you going to kill me now too? Taji? Kerwen? And me? You’ll be right on your way to even up the count between us. Getting off to a good start,” Neci sneered.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Syn held out her arms, motioning at the floating bots around her, “But they’re not going to let you through.”
“They won’t do a thing.” the Crimson Queen eyed them nervously, eyes darting about. “They’re frightened of me.”
“They will if I ask.”
A murmur shot through the bots. Arquella and Bear inched closer. Huck jumped ahead a meter.
In a flash, Neci reached out and snagged Pigeon’s hair and pulled the girl in front of her. There was a knife in Neci’s hand, and it was against Pigeon’s neck. Neci held the girl in a headlock, tightly, looking over her shoulder. The knife was a dark thing. There were glints of metal underneath its stained surface. It was curved, and the tip was dented and misshapen. This was a knife that had been used freely by its owner, someone not afraid of shedding blood.
Neci barked, “You won’t kill me because you won’t kill her. Let me through first or I end the worm.”
“Neci!” Syn shouted back, “Don’t.”
Neci smiled. “That’s why she’s lived this long. She wasn’t useful. She was just the leftover. Can’t kill the smallest one of the litter. That just seems wrong. Funny isn’t it? In the end, she and I are all that’s left. The alpha and the runt. Who would have thought?”
“Neci, please. I’ll let you in. Just let her go.”
Neci pushed the knife against Pigeon’s throat. The girl winced in pain and a line of blood formed at the knife’s edge, digging into her skin. “We go first.”
The entire needle shook. There was a terrible creak that sounded from deep inside the needle.
Blip looked at Syn, “Do it. We have to get in. I have to get to Olorun and eject this Disc.”
“Good plan, little football. That was my plan if I remember right, but it’s fine, you can use it,” Neci squawked.
Pigeon shut her eyes and gave a loud breath. “Her name was Laoule.”
“What?” Neci asked.
Pigeon continued, “We found her companion, Spot, and you wouldn’t let her near him.”
“Shut up,” Neci said.
“She snuck out and was talking to him at night. You had no idea. And then she escaped with Spot.”
“Who cares?” Neci said.
“You killed all of the children she was caring for. She just wanted to be away from you. From us. They both did. We all have. I think I’ve pieced it all together. She thought she’d get through the gate before you. After the explosion. The one you made to break through. She wanted to get away with Spot. But you sent Taji after her.”
“Who cares?” Neci was shouting. “Let me in now, Syn.”
“Do it,” Blip said, “Just give me the word.”
Syn held up her hands. “Fine, but I can’t open the iris.”
“What?” Neci said, pressing the knife tighter against Pigeon’s throat.
“She never came back down from up here. I wondered what happened, but you wouldn’t let me come up here,” Pigeon continued, “When we found the wrong companion, I knew they were both dead.”
Syn pointed at the corner. “The entrance is there. The iris is broken. I think you broke it. But there’s a hatch down in that corner. Actually, a couple of passageways.”
“You lying little bitch,” Neci said, “I know every corner of this gate. There’s nothing but this.”
“It’s only for the bots,” Syn said
, “Let her go, and I’ll show you.”
“Taji killed her. That’s what you sent her to do. Catch and kill,” Pigeon was still talking, her voice a deep growl, “I think Taji set her on fire. But she helped Spot escape. He fled to the other side. He knew how to get through. You let Taji set her on fire. How could you? She was a sister.”
“Shut up you whiny little…I need to think,” Neci closed her eyes.
Syn motioned again, “Okay, everyone, just go to where I’m pointing. Blip is going to—"
A creak sounded, and the entire room shuddered.
Syn continued, “Blip is going to get us through fast.”
“That’s not true,” Neci said.
Pigeon’s voice was now just a thin thing, and the words were coming out without any pauses—a stream of sounds propelled by years of resentment, “You killed Cord. You killed Laoule. You killed Tulce. You killed Ince. You killed Palim. Ret. Palcul.”
“Shut up!” Neci screamed.
But Pigeon couldn’t stop. The names kept coming. “Intes. Recik. Ojul.” The syllables bled into each other. “Chivah. Havah. Brile. Sol.”
“I did not.”
Pigeon stopped sharply. “Yes. You. Did.” On the last word, she yanked a knife from her belt—a thin piece of metal—and jammed it behind her into Neci’s abdomen. She roared the last names; the words grew into a stream from the girl’s small voice. “Rish. Una. Elaul. Casei. Iksen. Tral.” The ones after that become a single note screamed in rage.
Neci howled and let go of Pigeon. She fell back toward the gate. An arc of spraying blood exploded as she tumbled.
“Neci!” Syn cried, waving her hands wildly to swim toward the girls. The floating droplets of blood splashed across her as she moved through the crimson mist. In her next breath, she cried, “Pigeon!”
Syn had hated Taji. Despised the brute. She had cared for Kerwen. And felt pulled toward Pigeon. But Neci was different—Neci was her mirror. She detested everything Neci did because she saw the echoes of her own choices there. And now—Neci was dying. Maybe dead. And she realized she didn’t want that.
Syn snagged Neci’s bleeding body and cradled it close. She pressed against Neci’s wound, hoping to halt the blood flow.
She looked at Pigeon and said, “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”
Pigeon shook her head, shutting her eyes tight, and slammed her mouth closed on a scream. After a second, she pushed toward Syn and Neci and said, “Put pressure on it. We can stop the bleeding.”
“She was going to kill you,” Syn said as she pressed hard on the open hole in Neci’s stomach.
“I love her,” Pigeon said, “She’s horrible. But no more Sisters need to die.”
The needle creaked again—a grinding sound that filled every inch of the massive gate room. Syn eyed Blip and shouted to the Ecology, “Everyone! Follow Blip! We have to get through.”
Blip didn’t reply. His response was a bullet flight toward the far corner where he had opened the service passage a few days ago (what now seemed to be years ago). He shone a brilliant blue light to draw the other bot’s attention.
The mixed hues of the red emergency lights and Blip’s blue cast a pale violet across Syn’s face. She put a hand on Pigeon’s shoulder, “We have to go with them.”
Pigeon nodded.
The needle shook again.
“Will she live?” It was a high voice. Syn scanned and found Bear. He was followed by Arquella and Huck.
“You’re alive!” She smiled at the two, and they moved close against her, nudging her.
“Thanks to you! Your Blip told us what was happening,” Bear answered.
“How did you not die in the first explosion?”
“We had split off to go around back. It was Bear’s idea,” Arquella said, “He said that the Crimson Queen was tricky, and she was. We saw you all leave and raced after. But not many others made it. We couldn’t catch you, and we couldn’t save them. So many died. I’m sorry.”
From behind, a booming voice answered, “Now is not the time. Later we can grieve. Come along.” In the darkness, the lumbering shape of a familiar sewer bot floated past. The Barlgharel. He had lived too.
As he swam past, he said, “Place the girl on my back. I’ll get her through. You can hold her wound. She might still live.”
Syn’s stomach tightened. They had just tried to kill Neci. Syn had forbidden the girl from crossing over.
Before she could make a decision, Neci’s eyes shot open. “No!” she shouted and pushed off the Barlgharel’s body, toward the opening hatch of the cargo passageway, blood streaming after her.
“Stop her!” Syn shouted but Neci had surprised them and was at the opening.
Syn moved onto the Barlgharel’s back. Something along the bot’s hide gripped ahold and held her tight. Together, they swam toward the progression of bots exiting through the larger cargo passageway. Ahead, Blip’s blinding blue light served as a guide.
Neci pushed ahead and swam into the opening, kicking past Blip.
“Stop her!” Syn shouted again, but Blip was focused elsewhere.
“Through here. Go. One after another. Queue. Stay in the queue,” the companion bot insisted. The line flowed out from the entrance and streamed through.
Neci’s kick came as a surprise and sent him spinning in the air, unable to catch as she dove into the hatch and beyond any of their reach. Bots were already flowing in, and she fell into the fleeing throng.
Blip stopped his tumble and returned to his post, staring down the tube. He yelled back at Syn, “I don’t see her.”
Syn was near enough now and waved him off. “We’ll catch her. Keep them moving.”
Blip continued to usher them through.
They’ll arrive before me, Syn found herself thinking. She wasn’t sure why it mattered, but at one point, she had the image of her leading the Ecology to her Disc.
Instead, she trailed behind, her fingers bloody and wet from pressing against the gaping wound of Neci.
But she had kept her promise. Was their prophecy correct? She had done everything it said she would.
Minutes ago, Neci was the barrier to safety and peace. But now— “Will she live?” Syn asked Pigeon as the two stared ahead into the corridor.
Pigeon, her body seeming so much thinner in the passageway, whispered back, “I don’t know. I’m scared she will.”
You want her to die, Syn thought, I’ll be okay if she dies. But I don’t want it.
Olorun bucked and the passageway echoed a high-pitched squeal as metal strained.
“Faster!” Syn shouted.
Blip echoed her command, “Faster!”
The bots ahead responded by moving faster. Soon, they had ventured through the tunnel and exited out into the other gate room. Her gate room. Her Disc. Her side of the mirror.
Syn instinctively took a deep breath. She was at home.
The bots filled the space, but their numbers seemed fewer in the cavernous expanse without the debris of the other side. This space was hollow in comparison.
Pigeon muttered, “She’s not here.”
Syn scanned the room. There was no sign of Neci. A few drops of blood floated ahead of them, but the trail ended at the other side of the massive open space. “Where’d she go?”
“I’ll talk to Olorun,” Blip interrupted as he raced ahead to the bridge door.
“She won't listen to you,” the Barlgharel said.
Blip stopped hard and turned around. “How do you know that?” he chirped, offended at this intrusion. “And who are you?”
Syn interjected, “This is the Barlgharel.”
“What the hell is that?” Blip said.
Syn blinked, startled at the uncharacteristic language.
“You’re attempting to break away the Disc,” the Barlgharel said, “We can get her to understand.”
Blip didn’t answer for a moment. Then he hissed, “She’s insane. She’s not like us.”
Syn noticed Blip had included
the other bots standing there. Had he been able to accept them as at least similar to him?
“You said she wasn’t stupid,” Syn insisted.
Around them, various bots of the Ecology were assembling. More and more continued to pour out of the cargo passage that Blip had led them through.
“How do you know about Olorun?” Blip insisted, directing his gaze at the Barlgharel.
The Barlgharel, its head turned to look down on Syn, said, “She spoke to me, the first of many.”
“What does that mean? Speak normally,” Blip commanded and without waiting for an answer, he turned to Syn and said, “I’m going to Olorun.”
Barlgharel provided no indication of thought or intent. Syn nodded her head.
Blip raced off toward the bridge entrance above them.
When he was nearly at the entrance, the Barlgharel said, “He’ll be back. Then she’ll want you.”
Syn looked aghast at the Barlgharel’s statement. “What…What does she want with me?”
The Barlgharel straightened out and then swam a few feet away, toward the center of the gate room. “I do not know. I do know she likes you.”
“Smoke and mirrors,” Pigeon said. She had stayed near Syn, always in the girl’s shadow.
Her words echoed in the hall. This side of the gate was so empty.
Syn became aware of the audience forming around her. When they had first entered, the hundreds of bots were clustered in smaller groups. Now, they aligned themselves in a circle, in orbit around Syn, the center of attention of hundreds of the Ecology. They floated in the empty space around her. She was the sun, and they were her planets. Amongst them, she spied the familiar forms of Huck, Bear, Arquella, and several other bots she had repaired and many more she had talked to during her stay with them.
The Barlgharel whispered, “As she predicted.”
This broke her trance. “Who said?”
“Olorun,” came the answer. But it wasn’t the Barlgharel. Far behind, Blip was streaming closer.
“What?” Syn asked.
“He’s right,” Blip said. She could see it pained him to say that. He didn’t know the Barlgharel, and there was no motivation for jealousy. “She wants him and then you.”
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