Grynid had no time to process each increasingly ridiculous statement.
“Did you say poop bank?”
“No poop banks in Trollskog?” Lupe shrugged. “Folks here still live by quarantine rules, even though there hasn’t been an outbreak in a decade. They stay inside and pay couriers to deliver things, so they don’t risk infection. Since we live outside, we got, like, awesome bugs in our gut. Perfect for fecal transplants. Destroys c.diff. Poop banks saved the country, knocked out the SuperBug.”
“The wealthy keep you outside, then harvest your feces to save their own lives?” That was barbaric. It was feudalism. “You’re a serf,” she realized.
“Surf? Not my thing. Aha!” Lupe lifted a maroon suitcase. “Found it.”
“The maps?”
“The scrap. You want a map? Map is in my stash. Stash is across the bridge. Need the bike to get across the bridge, and we need solar to make the bike go. We’re going to buy some solar.”
A cold heaviness trickled to her belly. This was becoming complicated.
I told you so, sang Mother’s voice.
Lupe waved. “Let’s go to Target.”
* * *
Welcome to Target! Expect More, Pay Less! Store currently under renovation. Order online!
Grynid blinked the ad away and faced a featureless, plastic Human. Dozens littered the second floor of the Target, in various poses and states of undress. A graveyard.
Lupe’s “guy” had agreed to meet them on the second floor of the building with a red circle out front. That was what passed for landmarks in America. He had yet to arrive. The flickering fluorescent light bulbs did nothing for Grynid’s apprehension.
The goggles chimed: person approaching. “Back here!” Lupe called. She leaned towards Grynid. “Don’t make a big deal, but this guy is a burnout. Used to be freelance, like me. Bit of bad business two years ago, get it?”
“A burnout?” The goggles outlined Lupe’s guy in striped red and gray.
“Bring it to the scale,” the guy called. Lupe pulled the purple suitcase down the aisle.
“Burnout is destroyed credit. But it takes three neighborhood leaders working together to burn someone’s cred, so it’s super rare. But when they do? Worse than zero stars. Supernova. No one will work with a burnout.”
Except Lupe, Grynid noticed. Her unease sharpened.
“Wait here.”
Grynid stood by empty shelves declaring Dollar Deals! Lupe chattered at her guy. The guy grunted; hefted the suitcase. They haggled. Grynid sat on her sack of books and rolled the bike back and forth, actively ignoring Mother’s laugher in her head. No. Lupe was a knight. Knights were trustworthy. She wasn’t lost.
A pop-up obscured her vision. Would she like to rate Bobby Rowe: Scavenger? It was a push notification, as opposed to Lupe’s rating system that required you to come in physical contact. Grynid scrolled through his profile. Every review was negative. Grynid shuffled her bare feet.
“How about we trade for solar?” Lupe needled. “Cut out the middleman.”
“I’ll give you cash, same as always.”
“Come on! I’m giving you good stuff!”
“Where are you getting this stuff anyway?”
Lupe shrugged and said nothing. Grynid felt the hairs on her ears rise. Strange. It was the first time in two hours the Human was at a loss for words. Knights were always supposed to speak the truth. Never deceive.
The guy rolled his eyes. “You want solar? Give me five stars, right here and now. Too chicken? You get cash.” He waved a green stack of dollars under her nose.
Lupe stuffed the wad of bills in her fanny pack and stalked away. “Fine.”
Grynid frowned. “I thought we were getting solar.”
“Someone will be selling it this time of night.” She tapped the air and blinked through her goggles, searching for such an establishment. “Grab the scooter.”
Grynid looked at the guy and the purple suitcase. Her stomach churned. “What were you selling?”
“Scrap.” Lupe zipped up her jacket. “Metal.”
“Lupe, you said we were getting solar.” She propped the bike on her left shoulder, her bag of books on the other.
Lupe sighed. “I can’t rate a burnout, not tonight. It would drop my credit. Don’t worry, next stop is solar, then your map.”
Grynid glared at Lupe’s back. I must be a model Troll, she reminded herself. No raging, no rudeness. I must politely resolve this situation. She blinked and twitched her nose. Five enormous stars appeared above her head. A flick of the wrist sent them to Bobby Rowe: Scavenger.
The red/gray line around him was replaced by a thick outline of gold. He glittered like a dragon’s living room.
Lupe gasped. “Did you just—”
“A knight gives succor to the weak and defenseless,” Grynid said. “Trolls can be chivalric too. Despite the stories, we are not Human-cooking oafs—”
Bobby Rowe dropped the purple suitcase. The zipper burst.
Bullets flooded out.
Grynid whirled on Lupe. “You told me it was scrap!”
“It is scrap!” Lupe screeched back.
“It’s arms dealing!”
Bobby Rowe sank to his knees. “You’ve... you’re a clean slate. I’ve got... I’ve got perfect cred!”
Grynid dropped the scooter. “I want nothing to do with this. You are not a knight.”
“Hey! My bike!” Lupe jumped on a shelf to bring her to Troll-eye level. She grabbed Grynid’s collar with a tiny fist. “Who ever said I was a knight? What’s your problem?”
Grynid would not escalate. She was a Troll. She was not a criminal. Or a barbarian. She would be civil but firm. “I do not approve of law breaking. You and I will part company. You’re on your own.”
Lupe froze as if slapped.
Grynid turned and tripped over Bobby Rowe, who was brandishing a pair of solar cells at her. “Take ‘em, they’re yours!” he cried. Grynid wobbled for balance. She flung an arm out to catch herself and grabbed the first thing she touched. The mannequin toppled; Grynid toppled. Her goggles flashed an alarm.
Lupe grabbed a mannequin arm and poked it at Grynid’s torso. “Don’t step on my bike!” she screamed. She pounced, and Grynid caught her in her arms. Her back hit a shelf. It fell into the shelf behind, and the shelf behind that. The alarm on the goggles grew brighter.
Her toe caught on the bike. She and Lupe tripped, spun, then bounced on the unmoving escalator and rolled downhill.
Grynid splayed on her back in the parking garage. Lupe’s leg draped across her waist, her head on her shoulder.
“Ow...” they said together.
The goggles flashed. Property Destruction. FINE. FINE. It was not fine. Nothing was fine.
Lupe sat on her heels and rubbed her elbow. “You want to part company? You have no idea how to survive! You won’t make it a week!”
“I shouldn’t have followed you!” Grynid rolled to her feet. “I would’ve been better off with the rabbit!”
Lupe narrowed her eyes. Grynid bared her tusks. They both growled.
The scooter rolled down the escalator. Grynid’s sack of books perched atop the seat, with two fresh solar-packs nestled inside. Bobby Rowe whistled. “Hey, Troll. I’m grateful as hell, but I gotta split before they get here.”
“Before who gets here?”
Bobby blinked rapidly. “Everyone.” He disappeared.
“No, no, no.” Lupe lunged for Grynid’s goggles. “Seriously? You’re a clean slate, and you have your location set to public?”
“So?”
“You rated Bobby and tagged your location. Now everyone knows where you are. They’ll swarm you and hold you hostage until you give them five stars. You have to customize your settings. Have you been living under a rock?”
“In a rock, actually.”
“There. It’s disabled.”
Grynid replaced her goggles. FINE. FINE, they flashed. With GPS off the rabbit wouldn’t pop up. “Ho
w am I supposed to get around now?”
Lupe glared. “I said I’d get you a map.” She eyed the solar-packs in Grynid’s sack. “Put those on my bike so we can escape them.”
“You just want to protect your precious credit. All you do is run away!”
“And all you want is a map!”
Grynid glared. Lupe glared. Scooter tires screeched in the distance. With her keen night-vision Grynid saw a massive five-sided fortress in the distance: a castle! A storm of bikes spilled from its gates.
A mob. Coming for her.
Torches. Pitchforks.
Lupe stubbornly held out her hand. Grynid tossed her the solar-packs. She clipped them in. The bike sparked to life.
“Hold on,” Lupe said. “I drive fast.”
Grynid rested two fingers on the Human’s hips. Lupe slammed her foot on the pedal.
Nothing happened.
Grynid flushed platinum. “I’m too heavy.”
“You’re perfect. I’ve carried industrial refrigerators on this thing, it’s not you. It’s... Oh.” Her voice flattened. “We have a fine.”
The goggle flashing intensified. Distant scooters became less distant.
“We busted up those shelves. Property damage.”
“What do we do?” Grynid asked.
“Pay our debt to society. Money to the Pentagon authorities, or time in the stocks. The Pentagon offices aren’t open until morning.”
“The stocks?”
“We owe thirty minutes. We can do it while driving.”
Grynid’s shoulders hunched with each engine rev. “Yes. Let’s choose that.”
“Ever been in the stocks?”
“No?” It had to be better than the mob.
Lupe clicked ‘Stocks.’ The Fine alarm calmed and the scooter lurched forward. Lupe slammed on the pedal as a mob of blue-outlined scooters roared into view. The bike flew out of the garage; wind whipped Lupe’s hair against Grynid’s neck.
“We’re near the border. Once we cross into Mall territory the dudes behind us will stop chasing!”
You’ve been naughty! A cartoon pig wagged a finger in the corner of the goggles. Absurd. Pigs had hooves. Enjoy your time in the stocks!
“Is this the fine?” Grynid asked.
“Keep your goggles on, no matter what!” Lupe shouted over her shoulder. “Turn them off, the scooter stops. Mute them, the scooter stops. You must listen.”
“To what?”
“To every bored teenager and frustrated quarantine rat throwing insults and hatred your way.”
Words? Only words? Branches and boulders might bruise my shoulders, as Mother would say. “Just thirty minutes?”
“Yeah.” Lupe clipped her words. “Just thirty minutes.”
The three-fingered pig pulled aside a curtain. Lupe gunned the scooter forward.
* * *
They zipped under a dark overpass and emerged on an empty forested road. Oaks and maples leaned toward them, heavy with their summer coats. Fir and spruce pointed toward the white moon. Grynid could barely see them through the wall of text flooding her goggles.
@cdiffsbatch: troll so fat look like it ate a whole village
@funkienloud: everyone hates you
@iwantfairytail: kill yourself kill yourself kill yourslef
Someone posted a link to a website. Instructions on how she might kill herself.
“This is the stocks?” she asked.
“Yeah. Hey, I have to turn mine to Audio since I’m driving.”
“I’ll do the same.” She wanted to be able to see if Pentagoners or dudes of any variety were approaching. “Perhaps they will drown each other out.”
“They won’t.” Lupe’s words came through a clenched jaw.
“I’ve taken dumps better looking than you.”
“you are the reason I don’t go outside”
Grynid felt Lupe’s shoulders tense. “It’s not true,” Grynid muttered. “They’re just words. Clearly you’re not unattractive, by Human standards.” Or Troll standards, for that matter.
“If we talk too much they’ll shut off the bike. Be quiet and listen.”
Grynid tried to let her mind wander. Let the Humans hurl their insults. Trollphobic insults. Sexually violent insults. Increasingly sexual and increasingly violent insults. She checked the timer. They were only four minutes into their punishment.
A picture appeared to accompany the audio. It hit Grynid like an overripe tomato.
“look what I found! Ogre baby and Ogre mommy!”
“I just threw up in my mouth”
“kill me. I can’t unsee that.”
Where did they find her baby pictures? Oh that’s right. She had to link her TuskBook account when she created her profile
“you see her mom’s face???? here’s my baby...anybody want to trade?”
Doctored photos flashed across her vision. They circled and zoomed in on her baby fat. They wrote obscene words across her nappies. No need to change Mother’s expression, though. She always did look disappointed.
More photos appeared. Mother picking her teeth during Grynid’s Acornclass graduation. Mother looking embarrassed at the Fire Circle Debate championship. A particularly unflattering picture of Grynid’s debut into adult society. Mother was wincing there, too.
“Her own mama thinks she’s trash!”
Laughter erupted. Did they have to broadcast the laughter? Grynid looked over Lupe’s hunched shoulder.
“see the immigrant’s pics? ALWAYS ALONE AND ALWAYS RUNNING”
“Hey guys, wait up! Wait up!”
“unwanted little sister”
Grynid frowned at the pictures flashing in the corners of her vision. Lupe was running in every single one. She’d been running the entire night.
“OMG she’s applied to join the P-Gon couriers SEVEN TIMES!”
Lupe flicked a switch. The scooter sped up.
“And the Zoo couriers!”
“EVEN DUPONT REJECTED HER!”
“Spell desperate: L-U-P-E”
Lupe hunkered over the handlebars. “Almost to the bridge. That’s Mall territory.”
Grynid looked behind—no one was following. Lupe was speeding as if she could outrun the comments.
The trees on the sides of the road thinned. Lupe zoomed the bike onto a wide bridge. Wind whipped tears from under Grynid’s goggles. A water feature, a landmark, and Grynid could not appreciate it.
“Go back to Norway, fugly monster!”
“Eat the Mexican for a snack on your way!”
She felt sick.
“Stop the bike,” Grynid said. They were over the bridge. Lupe tapped the brakes.
Stone called to her. Grynid stumbled forward, climbing white stairs. She crawled into a cave built of columns and carvings. Lupe followed. The voices followed. She curled at the foot of a marble statue.
Twenty minutes left in the stocks.
Lupe clutched her own elbow and slumped against the far wall. She rolled into herself as if trying to turn to stone. Grynid knew that look. Lupe was lost. They both were.
Grynid reached out.
Troll and Human hands found each other in the dark. They sat shoulder to shoulder, hearing each other’s insults, feeling each other’s pain. The goggles streamed evidence after evidence they were losers. Failures. Forever alone. Forever disappointing.
Raindrops fell on stone. Grynid blinked through tears. The comments had stopped. The words and insults running through her mind were echoes. It was over.
They took off their goggles and listened to the rain. Lupe shifted. Grynid kept hold of her hand.
“How did they know?” she whispered into the silence.
“Crowdsourced bullying.” Lupe sniffed. “They pinpoint your insecurities, then hammer away at them.”
The Human took back her hand and wiped at her eyes. Grynid sat up.
“Hey,” said Lupe. “Our debt to society is paid.”
“Why would that be payment?”
Lupe shr
ugged. “People need an outlet. They do it to us, the consenting, and not to people who don’t deserve it. It’s a good system.”
“It’s a lemming-scat system. Lupe? Why are you always running?”
Lupe turned away and adjusted her jacket. “People can’t hurt you if they can’t catch you.”
Grynid looked around the massive cave. A man of marble sat on a throne with words carved above him. IN THIS TEMPLE AS IN THE HEARTS OF THE PEOPLE...
“Who is Abraham Lincoln?”
Lupe glanced upward. “Old president?”
A smile tugged at Grynid’s tusks. “I know little about American Trolls. It is good you Humans honor him so.”
“I don’t think he’s a Troll.”
“Half-troll. Troll-Human mix. It is the same.”
“I think it’s just a statue.”
“Please, it speaks well of your land.”
Lupe shrugged and smiled. Grynid smiled back. She didn’t hide her tusks. Lupe didn’t seem to mind.
“Lupe... I’m lost,” Grynid admitted.
“That’s your mom talking.” Lupe put her fists on her hips. “You, Troll lady, are kicking butt.”
Grynid blushed.
“Not literally, of course. You’re very prim.”
“Thank you.”
Lupe tossed the hair out of her eyes. “Listen, those were shells. Expended rounds. Not bullets. A few miles south there’s an old military base. They got piles of shells all over. I collected them for years. When I moved up here, I stashed them all over the city. Little bits of emergency funds I can always count on. Nothing illegal.”
“Military base?” Grynid said in a small voice.
“That’s where I got your maps too. Military types have a kink for navigating without tech. Grease pencils and laminated topographical maps. I found them all over the woods.”
Some Humans appreciated traditional land navigation? Grynid had the sudden urge to strip a tree of bark and share it with Lupe.
“I’m sorry for accusing you,” she said.
“Sorry I’m not a real knight.”
Grynid scratched at her ear. She’d been so worried Humans would have the wrong impression of Trolls. She hadn’t considered the need to temper her expectations of Humans.
Silk & Steel Page 13
