“Look. This happened before,” Eva said. She gazed at Muthr’s face and waited for her to speak. “If I hold her back here, she comes back on.”
“It is your energy, the electricity within you, Eva Nine, that temporarily revives her,” Rovender said. He looked at the fractured braincase. “I am afraid, though, that she may be damaged beyond repair.”
Static hissed from the robot’s mouth.
“Eva, dear.” Muthr’s voice sounded far away and dreamy, different from how Eva had heard her speak before. “I get to see you one last time. Is Besteel gone?”
“Yes, he’s gone,” Eva replied.
Rovender ran his thick fingers over Muthr’s face. “He will bother no one ever again, thanks to your resourceful daughter,” he said.
“We are free and we’re going to make it,” Eva said as she tried to stay strong. “You’re going to tell us what to do, and me and Rovee are going fix you up. You’re gonna be okay.”
“Eva . . . ,” Muthr said, reaching up to hold Eva’s hand tightly. Her grip was cold and metallic. Muthr paused as an electric current danced over her open braincase, prickling Eva’s skin. “Eva, you have to let me go.”
“No, no,” Eva said. A long tear streamed down her face, like a crystal brook on her grime-smeared cheek. “You will be fine. We will fix you.”
Muthr turned her head to gaze into Eva’s eyes. “You did fix me, Eva. Do you not see that?”
“No, this is my fault. We should have gone to the other Sanctuary.” Eva’s voice was barely a hush. “I’m so sorry. None of this would have happened if I had listened to you.”
One of Muthr’s arms was half-buried in the sand. Now it emerged clutching on to something. With a great grinding effort she handed a worn scrap of panel to Eva.
It was a picture of a girl, and a robot, and an adult. Smiling. Moving forward.
“My WondLa?” Eva took it. “I don’t understand.”
“Eva . . .” Muthr’s voice was soft and slow, like a clock whose batteries were running down. “Did you know that my WondLa, my wish, was to experience this wondrous world with you, my daughter? My triumph. My joy. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and safe. That is all I ever wanted. . . . And now I know that you will be all these things.”
Eva wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “But without you I—”
“Just let me go, Eva,” Muthr whispered. “Just let me go.”
Eva slid her hand out from under the braincase and laid Muthr’s head down.
“You will always be my mother.” Eva leaned over and kissed the forehead of the machine. “And I will always love you.”
“I love you, Eva. You will grow up to be an amazing woman.” Muthr’s voice was but a breath. Static on the wind. “I am . . . so proud of you.”
With that, Muthr’s eyes went dark.
CHAPTER 41: TRUTH
A small fire crackled brightly against a magnificent lavender-hued sky at the campsite in the ancient ruins. As she sat under a long-forgotten steel archway, Eva Nine stared into the dancing flames and thought of her life before she’d left the confines of her Sanctuary. She thought of Muthr. A hollow pang of loneliness crept over her.
She felt the familiar nudge of a beak on her back and heard the sound of a purr. A warm, knobby tongue began licking her head.
Little one, you are safe.
Eva rose and wiped her face with her sleeve. She turned, expecting to see Otto, but instead she met with the ancient face of another giant water bear that observed the girl with cataract-clouded eyes. Its carapace was covered in numerous gouges and dents, patched over with rich thick growths of moss and algae. Behind this beast were the many faces of the herd, huddled close to see Eva. All began to hoot in unison.
You are the one, they sang, the one who risked your life to save one of us—the one who would treat us as your equal.
Eva blinked as their thoughts flooded in and filled her. They awakened and energized her.
Now you, little one, are one of us. We are one. So shall it be.
A large behemoth stepped forward. Eva smiled as she recognized the benevolent face of Otto. She placed her palm on his pebbly forehead. You will always be my friend, Otto.
Herd. Must. Go.
“I understand,” Eva said, holding back her tears. “Maybe I’ll see you again, someday.”
Just. Call.
“Oh, I love you, Otto.” Eva wrapped her thin arms around his large neck. “And I will miss you.”
Me. Too. Little one.
The herd began moving away from the ancient ruins, across the dark mysterious dunes. As he turned to leave, Otto looked at Eva with his large bulbous eyes.
Go. See. Truth.
The water bear shuffled away to join the rest of his herd. Behind him, the enormous tunnel that he had excavated below the lion sculptures waited in the shadows as twilight flooded the land.
Eva grabbed a lantern and wandered out into the silhouettes of the ruins, toward the giant tunnel. “Rovee?” she whispered.
Sitting up on one of the lion sculptures, alone in the dusky gloam, Rovender Kitt stared out at the skies as the top of the sun sank below the inky landscape. Eva could hear him talking to someone, though it was hard to discern who it was because his back was facing her.
“Hey,” she said, approaching him.
“Hello, Eva Nine.” He took a swig from his bottle. “How are you?”
“I’m . . . okay . . . I guess. I don’t know.” She climbed up next to him. “How about you?”
“I am sad for you, and for me,” he said, and swallowed more of his drink. “I grieve for Mother.”
“I am sad too.” Eva pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her arms on them. She was missing a piece of herself she knew she’d never find again.
“It’s funny. We have adapted ourselves to live in a new world. A new land.” He took another gulp. “We have traveled far, overcoming many dangers . . . many obstacles.”
Eva was quiet.
“And what happens? What is our reward for such a demanding journey? This?” Rovender let out a sarcastic laugh as he gestured at the towering ruins surrounding them.
Eva’s eyes were downcast.
“It’s not fair!” Rovender yelled, throwing the bottle. It exploded against a lone standing wall. “You did not deserve this.”
Eva put her head down.
“It should . . . It should have been me!” His voice was angry. “It’s not right!”
“Don’t say that, Rovee.” Eva sniffed. Her body felt numb.
“No!” Rovender stood up, shouting, “I should have died! It shouldn’t have been Mother. It shouldn’t be any mother . . . not with little ones.” He crumpled back down, his head in his hands. “Not with little ones. They don’t deserve this. It should have been me.” He sobbed, “It should have been me.”
Eva scooted over to Rovender and put her arm around him. They sat quietly as a full blue moon drifted up through the clouded night skies of Orbona.
Eva awoke to the crackling of the campfire in the middle of the night. Balled up under a thick wooly blanket given by Hostia, she peered out into the camp. Rovender sat near her and gazed, as if hypnotized, into the fire. Alongside him, his large rucksack was wide open, its many contents spread about.
One by one he picked up an item and tossed it into the blaze. Eva blinked out the sleep and sat up. “Rovee, what are you doing?”
His voice seemed calm, at ease, as he spoke to the flames. “I am, at last, cleansing my spirit, Eva Nine.”
She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “What?”
Rovender picked up the ornate necklace from his rucksack. “These things are nothing more than that—just things,” he said, and dropped the necklace into the campfire.
Eva sat in a ball of blanket as she watched the flames consume the necklace.
“They are not memories. . . .” Rovender dropped a handful of belongings into the fire.
“They are not alive. . . .” He scoop
ed up an armload.
“They will never replace the ones we’ve lost.” He stood and emptied the last bit of his old possessions into the growing fire.
Eva got up, still wrapped in the coarse blanket. She grabbed her satchel and walked over to the campfire, turning it upside down. The remaining nutriment pellets, water purification tablets, Pow-R-drinks, and SustiBars tumbled down into the roaring blaze. She sat down next to Rovender and smiled. Her smile wasn’t so much one of happiness; it was more one of understanding.
Something else struck her at that moment. Eva crawled over to her sleeping mat and grabbed a small, flat object that was tucked under her balled-up jackvest. She studied the WondLa one final time before she moved to toss the picture into the flames—but a calloused hand caught her wrist.
“Not that.” Rovender’s tone was serious. “You must honor Otto, myself, and your mother by seeing to it that you find what it is that you have searched for.”
“But . . .” Eva blinked in shock. “What does it matter now?”
“Now is when it matters most, Eva Nine,” Rovender replied as he released his grip. “Honor yourself.” She saw the tattered friendship bracelet tied around his wrist.
Eva rose, staring at the fire as it finished eating all the effects of her past life . . . of Rovender’s past life. Soon these ashes would be indiscernible from the black desert sands that surrounded them. She dropped the WondLa to the ground and grabbed her jackvest.
“Where are you off to?” Rovender stood. “It’s past midnight.”
Eva slipped on her jackvest and lit a lantern. “I’m going to finish what I’ve started.”
One of the stone lions was buried under the enormous mound of excavated sand that Otto had dug. As Eva’s sneakboots crunched over the fine grains of sand, she looked up at the now cloudless sapphire sky. The celestial Rings of Orbona glowed like wide ribbons stretched across the heavens. She stopped at the entrance to the tunnel leading down. With her lantern raised over her head for a better view, Eva shuddered, realizing it barely illuminated the darkness around her. Another lantern light bobbed up from behind.
“You didn’t think I’d let you do this on your own, did you?” Rovender said, catching up to Eva on his backward-bending legs. “Are you ready?”
“I’m ready.” Eva looked at him in the golden flickering light. “I need to know the answer to the puzzle.”
He smiled a toothy grin. “I know, Eva Nine. That’s one of the things I like about you.” As Muthr had done, he reached out his hand, and Eva placed hers in it. They ventured into the giant tunnel.
The enormous shaft went straight down for only a short length, then turned, becoming a more gradual angle down. It wound into the dank, cold ground, eventually leveling out into a subterranean walkway.
“Oeeah! Quite a digger, that Otto is!” Rovender observed the tunnel walls with his lantern, now hooked on the end of his walking stick. “Look at all of this.”
Eva knelt down. The earth below her was hard and firm. She brushed the sand away with her hands and discovered numerous little cobbles set in a perfect pattern. She looked up at the earthen walls and roof. “That looks like the Goldfish, doesn’t it?”
Rovender added his light to hers. The face of a hovercar peeked out from the sand-packed walls above them. Its empty headlight sockets watched the two as they passed below. They continued down the tunnel path, where Eva recognized numerous items that silently greeted them from their resting places: traffic signs, more hovercars, and even the corroded remains of another robot. Up ahead, a darkened arched portal closed off the end of the tunnel.
Rovender brought his lantern close to the arch. Eva realized it was a pair of large closed doors, encrusted with ancient dirt and grime. Even though one of the doors was still half-buried in the sediment, there was something written on it that was familiar to her.
She wiped the dirt away from the exposed door with the sleeve of her tunic. In perfectly preserved printing, it said:
NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
RARE PRINTED BOOKS & ARCHIVES VAULT
CHAPTER 42: WONDLA
With great force Rovender Kitt pushed the time-forgotten door open. A dank, musty smell greeted the explorers as they peered into the pitch-black room. Rovender nodded, then went in. Eva followed and found herself in an expansive round room.
She looked up at the disintegrating architecture before her. A vaulted ceiling, supported by brick and stone, still stood in the windowless open-floored dome. Rising high above Eva, multiple floors ringed the dark vault. Each floor was fully lined with shelving, which in turn was crammed full of tomes from long ago. Brown decrepit books of every shape and size were lying about, some fallen in blocky heaps from their ancient perches, others displayed—like large yellow butterflies and moths—under cracked glass cases. Eva walked into the center of the great library, hearing only her breathing and footfalls in the forlorn silence.
“No one has been here for a long, long time,” Rovender said, his voice reverberating throughout the large domed chamber. Grandiose tables with dilapidated chairs stood in rows at the center of the dusty floor. Many parts of the tables had been devoured by insects and had disintegrated to sawdust . . . and yet, other tables stood, firm and strong against the ravages of time. “Do you think Mother figured out what was in here that would help you?” he whispered.
“I don’t know,” Eva said. She tried not to think of Muthr.
“What are these things that this houses, Eva?” Rovender picked up a crumbling tome. He handed it to her.
“These are books,” Eva said as the yellowed bits of paper flaked away in her hands to rest on the floor. “It’s what humans used to put all of their writing in long ago.”
Rovender blinked in astonishment as he took in the enormous room. “Then, this is a bank. All the ancient knowledge of your kind is housed here. Is that correct?”
“I don’t know,” Eva said as she put the remnants of the book down on a table. “I’ve never read one of these before. We didn’t have them in the Sanctuary. They’re old. They don’t contain holos or any other interactive elements.”
“So they are of no use?” Rovender picked up the book again. Its cardboard cover separated from the rest of the book; the glue holding it together had disintegrated long ago. He squinted at the cover as he rubbed the dust from it. Its size and shape felt . . . familiar.
“The Omnipod had said it was receiving a signal from this area,” Eva said. “The signal had to be from this room.” She looked around in the darkness, wishing she had the Omnipod with her now.
She wished she had Muthr.
Eva came to the center of the chamber, where an impressive circular marble-topped desk still stood. She peered over the top of the desk. “Rovee, come here!”
“What is it?” Rovender galloped across the floor, his bouncing lantern sending light dancing throughout the entire vault.
Eva slipped behind the desk and tapped the large glass screen set in the desktop. The surface flickered with static for a few moments, then came online emitting a soft pulsing glow.
“Pffft York Public Li-pffft Rare Printed Books and Archives Vault. How pffft I help you?”
“Oh, my,” Eva gasped. With wide eyes of disbelief she stared at the words of a menu through the spiderweb of cracks in the cruddy glass. Placing her hand on the glass, she asked, “This is Eva Nine. Are there any humans in the area?”
“Titles on humanity are pffft floors three pffft four,” the desk replied.
“No.” Eva leaned closer to the desk and spoke clearly, “Are . . . there . . . any . . . other . . . humans . . . in . . . the . . . area?”
The computer was silent for a moment. Rovender placed a hand on Eva’s shoulder. Watching. Waiting.
“Pffft sorry. I don’t pffft-stand what you are pffft. Titles on humanity are pffft floors three pffft four,” the desk stated again.
Rovender touched the screen. A diagram was displayed of the entire vault, with interactive menus for eve
ry floor, shelf, and book. “Eva, this machine may not be like your Omnipod. I believe it knows only the items it maintains.”
A despondent Eva slouched. “Well, I guess that’s that,” she whispered.
“Your answers lie here,” Rovender said, gesturing around the library. “This is the history of your clan. They once lived here, and now you shall know of them.”
Eva sighed and peered out into the darkness.
“Let me show you,” Rovender said, pointing to the desk. “Ask the machine where the books on Orbona are.”
Eva did as she was asked.
“Roman pffft-ology is located in the Mythology section. Titles are pffft five,” the desk replied.
Eva spoke clearly and concisely. “No. I need information on humans colonizing the planet Orbona.”
“Pffft sorry. I don’t pffft-stand what you are pffft. Roman pffft-ology is located in the Mythology section. Titles are pffft five,” the desk repeated.
“That’s odd.” Rovender scratched his whiskery beard.
“No. It’s not.” Eva addressed the desk once more, “Please tell me where I can find books about this planet.”
“Titles pffft Earth are in the Astron-pffft section, the Geology pffft, and in the Mythology section. Which pffft would you pffft to go?” the desk replied.
“You said Orbona was a sleeping planet, a dead planet, when King Ojo brought everyone here, right?” Eva looked up at Rovender, her face lit by the pulsing glow of the desk’s screen.
“Yes, but . . .” Rovender furrowed his narrow brow as he put the final pieces together.
Eva rolled up her left sleeve, showing him the mark she’d received from Arius. “Zin told me what this means. Do you know?”
Rovender shook his head.
“It means,” Eva said as she traced the two circles, “a world within a world. A planet within a planet.”
The Search For WondLa Page 24
