A Hero for WondLa

by Tony DiTerlizzi

  Eight smiled and squeezed Eva Nine. “It’s because we are sisters—both of us born from the same home. A family reunited at last, right, Nine?”

  Awkwardly Eva hugged her sister back, though her eyes remained on Rovender.

  “And, Nadeau. How are you feeling?” Rovender took the ailing Cærulean’s hand.

  “He’s okay, for now,” replied Eva. She broke away from Eva Eight and joined Rovender.

  Nadeau spoke in a frail voice, “I am waiting to see our clan, Rovender. Our family, before I say farewell.”

  “I am working on getting you there, my brother,” Rovender said. He turned to Eva and her sister. “After I awoke this morning I discovered the remains of a fallen air-whale not far from here. I’m hoping I can find some bones to fashion a stretcher to carry Nadeau the rest of the way.”

  “That sounds good,” replied Eva Eight. “I’ll wait here with Nadeau, unless you think this tree thing is going to walk away?”

  “No.” Eva stroked the wandering tree’s scaly bark. “I think it will stay put for a while.”

  “Good,” Rovender said. “Eva, you can join me. I may need some help carrying back whatever we find.”

  “Perhaps we’ll catch some breakfast as well,” said Eva in a cheery tone. “I’m starving.”

  “What? Didn’t you grab some pills this morning?” Eight asked.

  “I’d save those pellets as a last resort,” said Rovender.

  Eva smiled. “Yeah, you haven’t had breakfast until you’ve had roasted turnfin.”

  “Roasted . . . turnfin? Really?” Eight blanched at this suggestion. For some reason this delighted Eva.

  CHAPTER 25: LURE

  Gravel and stone crunched under Eva’s sneakboots as she hiked with Rovender across a flat plain in the misty morning sun.

  “The remains are not far in this direction,” he said. “It should take only a little time for us to reach it.”

  “That’s fine. I’m sure Eva Eight will take good care of Nadeau back at camp while we are gone.” Eva was happy to be alone with Rovender, though she wrestled with why she felt more at ease with an alien than with her own flesh and blood.

  “Tell me,” started Rovender as he continued walking, “you have reunited with a sibling you did not know of, a gift left from Muthr. Are you not excited by this?”

  Eva shrugged her shoulders.

  “That doesn’t seem like much of an answer,” Rovender observed. “You must feel something more than that?”

  “It’s weird . . . She’s weird.” Eva picked at her nail polish. “It’s like we sort of know each other, but not really.”

  “Like all things, you must give it time, Eva,” Rovender replied.

  “Like we did with Hailey?”

  Rovender let out a halfhearted laugh. “Yes. Just like the pilot, Hailey Turner—the one I trusted, who then tricked me. The one I wanted to kill, whom you saved. And the one who in turn saved all of us.”

  “What does that prove?” Eva kicked some green eukaberries lying on the ground. “Your method of understanding someone takes too long.”

  “But what does it reveal?”

  Eva rolled her eyes. There was no way to sort out Hailey. “It reveals that people are confusing.”

  Rovender corrected her. “Not confusing. Complex.”

  Eva sighed loudly.

  “Despite all of that, remember to trust what you feel, Eva. What your heart tells you.”

  “Right now I don’t know how I feel. Especially about my sister,” Eva said.

  “She has much disdain for Cadmus, which is understandable. However, I fear it muddies her spirit,” said Rovender.

  “Yeah,” replied Eva. “And she knows nothing about life out here. I don’t think she can even talk to the trees and stuff like I can.”

  A cacophony of birds fluttered up ahead of the duo. The sun-bleached bones of a long-dead air-whale jutted upward from the open plain. Its mammoth skull faced Eva, staring at her through hollowed sockets. The remains reminded her of the stripped airship deteriorating in Hailey’s hangar.

  From the ground, Rovender picked up a thin ivory bone, twice his body length. “This is a fin ray from one of the air-whale’s fins. These are quite strong.” He brushed off the dirt and other debris from it. “We need a couple more of these, and then we can focus on finding breakfast.” He handed the fin ray to Eva. Despite its length the bone was light in her hands. Its tapered length gave it the appearance of a long white spear.

  They approached the air-whale’s gigantic skull. Its eye sockets were large enough for Eva to walk through. Hordes of turnfins took wing as Eva and Rovender searched for more fin rays.

  “All that is left are bones,” Eva said. She thought of the mounted specimens in the Royal Museum in Solas.

  “It’s been picked clean. Probably by these turnfins.” Rovender overturned one of many porous plates from the air-whale’s carapace. Underneath, a trio of largish rock-mimic insects scuttled for cover.

  Eva stared up at the ribs. The wandering tree that had carried them could walk through the rib cage and not touch the top.

  “Oeeah! What have we here?” Rovender picked up an odd-shaped bone from the remains and dusted it off.

  Eva recognized it as a skull. “Is it a baby whale?”

  “No.” Rovender rubbed the barbels on his chin. “This appears to be the skull of a Mirthian individual. Like our friend Huxley.”

  A chill wormed its way into Eva. “Did the air-whale eat him?”

  “No, no, no.” Rovender set the skull down and continued picking through the bones.

  “How did he die, then?” Eva’s eyes darted out into the plain, half-expecting a Dorcean huntsman to jump out.

  “Age, illness. Or perhaps he was attacked. Only his spirit knows for sure.” Rovender pushed more bones aside with his foot. “This is what we need!” He found an entire fin worth of ray bones. He knelt down and began sorting through the fin rays.

  “Does his spirit really know?” Eva picked up and studied the Mirthian skull. Even without skin and muscle it seemed to be smiling, just like Huxley.

  “How do you mean?” Rovender asked. He bent one of the fin rays, testing its strength. The bone snapped in half. Rovender threw the pieces aside and grabbed another.

  “I mean if his spirit knows how he died but is no longer here, then where is it?”

  “Ah!” Rovender pointed to the enormous skull with the fin ray. “His spirit, like this air-whale’s, has left the body, but still it continues on.”

  “On? On to where? Where will my spirit go when I am gone?” Eva took the fin ray from Rovender.

  “You will know that answer one day, Eva.” Rovender gathered several more ray bones and stood up, ready to leave. “But I believe that day is far off.”

  “But Nadeau . . . He will know soon?” Eva followed Rovender as they backtracked through the skeleton.

  “Yes,” Rovender replied. “His journey here is coming to a close. Even now he is preparing for the next.”

  Eva couldn’t recall having much conversation about this topic as she was growing up with Muthr. Talking with Rovender about Nadeau’s death put her at ease a bit regarding Muthr’s passing. “So is death a journey? Is it to another place?” she asked. “Is it another planet?”

  “Many have wondered this very question,” replied Rovender. “But there is an old Cærulean saying: When your journey reaches its destination here, may you walk on through the memories of those still with us.”

  Eva followed her blue friend toward the skull of the air-whale. Will Muthr be waiting for me on my next journey? She remembered Rovender’s words when Muthr was laid to rest. She lives within you now.

  As they neared the skull, her thoughts were interrupted by a flurry of turnfins whooshing past. “They are scared,” she said, looking around for the danger.

  Rovender nodded in agreement. “Something is wrong.”

  From behind the rib cage several floatazoans popped up, hurling eukaberries at
the birds. The flock flew out over the open plain, dodging the projectiles before circling back toward the skeleton. More floatazoans emerged from behind rocks and bones and continued the volley of foul-smelling fruit.

  The turnfins veered away from the floatazoans and fled back out into the plain. Several birds dropped to the ground, flapping helplessly, their wings coated in sticky pulp.

  “Let’s grab one!” Eva dashed out and seized a fallen turnfin by the feet. “We can wash this smelly stuff off.”

  “No, Eva. You—”Rovender did not finish his sentence. He was thrown back by a large sand-sniper surging up from below him.

  The sniper scuttled over the open plain, toward the grounded birds—and toward Eva.

  Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t, Eva thought to it.

  The sniper devoured each of the fruit-covered birds and then turned its attention to Eva, who was still holding one of the struggling turnfins. She dropped the bird and retreated step by step. The sniper clicked loudly, its antennae waving out toward Eva. In the dim overcast light Eva could see its many bioluminescent markings flashing in a myriad of colors.

  I didn’t mean to take your food, she thought. I am very sorry.

  With lightning speed the sand-sniper snatched the turnfin and consumed it in front of Eva. She remained motionless in front of the monster, trying to hold back the nausea of witnessing a bird being eaten alive. In seconds the feast was complete and the sniper regurgitated a gooey ball of spittle into its pincered maw. It turned its giant head toward the carcass of the air-whale and spat the spittle ball onto the ground.

  From unseen cracks and crevices hordes of floatazoans drifted out toward the gooey ball. They gorged on the spittle, leaving nothing behind but the bones of the turnfins.

  That is disgusting. Eva crinkled her nose as the rancid stink of eukaberry wafted over her. The sand-sniper turned to face her once more and clacked loudly. The colony of floatazoans hovered near it.

  Rovender pulled himself out from under a heap of bones and stood. “Eva!” he called out. The floatazoans turned toward Rovender and began pelting him with eukaberries. Covering his face, Rovender scrambled toward the giant skull of the air-whale for shelter. The sand-sniper bolted after him.

  “No!” Eva ran through the gathered floatazoans toward the skull. She scurried past the sand-sniper, which was trying to crack the thick cranium open with its mighty graspers. Eva dove into a gaping eye socket and scampered toward the back. Deep within she found Rovender. “Rovee! Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Just a bit shaken. What is going on?”

  Eva tried to catch her breath as she spoke. “The floaters . . . direct the sniper . . . with the berries. I think it’s attracted to the smell of them.”

  “Can’t you talk to the floaters?” He scraped the pungent pulp off his hands and onto the ground. “Tell them we mean no harm.”

  Eva concentrated. Several floatazoans had now entered the eye socket, chirping and pointing at her.

  Food.

  The thought trickled into Eva’s head like a distant birdsong on the wind.

  Please, just let us leave. We won’t take any of your food. I promise.

  More floatazoans clustered together inside the socket.

  Food. Food. Food.

  I gave the sniper back his food, and I am sorry to have taken it.

  The floatazoans began to crowd close to Eva. Their thoughts rose in a chorus.

  Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food.

  From outside the socket the sand-sniper reached in with one of its graspers. The massive spiked pincers fell just short of Eva and Rovender.

  Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food. Food.

  Please! Eva clutched her head as the floatazoans’ thoughts filled her mind, now in a deafening roar.

  A barrage of eukaberries beat down on Eva and Rovender. Eva kicked wildly at the throng of attackers, knocking them away. There were so many floatazoans crammed into the socket that new ones filled the places of their fallen comrades. Through the din of the attack, Eva heard a voice from outside.

  It was a familiar voice—a cry—and it severed Eva’s mental connection with the floatazoans.

  It was Eva Eight.

  Eva Nine pushed through the mass of floatazoans and dashed past the sniper. She emerged from the eye socket covered in eukaberry pulp.

  Eva looked out across the plain, from the direction she had traveled. There, she saw her sister running toward her. Eva rushed out to intercept her. “No! There’s a sand-sniper! Go back! It’s too dangerous!” Then Eva saw something that stopped her in her tracks.

  Behind Eva Eight rose the unmistakable shape of one of Cadmus’s warbots. The machine’s grinding movement paused, and it fired a spray of SHOCdarts at Eight. She moaned something incoherent and then stumbled, landing facedown in the gravel. Eva rushed to her and found her sister’s back quilled with dozens of darts. Electric static crackled from dart to dart, sending Eva Eight into convulsions.

  “It’s going to be okay. I will get you out of here.” Eva tried to remain focused as she plucked the darts from her sister’s body with trembling hands.

  I don’t know where Rovee is, she thought, or if I am going to be attacked by the floatazoans, or that sand-sniper. A dark shadow fell over her. Eva looked up at the large skull-shaped body of the warbot now towering over her.

  CHAPTER 26: WOUNDS

  A thick glob of bright orange foam shot from one of the warbot’s cannons and landed on Eva’s forearm, gluing it to the ground. Eva tried to wriggle her arm free, but the foam instantly began to harden and became heavier.

  The warbot spoke in a firm tone, “Short-range immobilization foam dispensed. Please remain stationary while your identification is confirmed.” Its red laser scanned down over Eva.

  She grabbed one of the large pointed SHOCdarts from her sister’s back and tore at the tunic sleeve of her trapped arm. The climatefiber ripped, and Eva yanked her arm through the sleeve, free of the foam. She scrambled to her feet and bolted, leading the warbot away from Eva Eight.

  As she fled, Eva could hear darts raining down onto the ground behind her. She sprinted back toward the air-whale skeleton. The mechanical motors of the warbot could be heard as it gave chase on swift stilt legs. There is no way I can outrun this machine, she thought, and looked over her shoulder.

  Eva stumbled to the ground. Once again the shadow of the warbot loomed as it closed in. Eva realized that she had tripped over several floatazoans. Their many voices returned in her head as they flooded out from the skeleton, pelting Eva with more berries.

  Food. Food. Food.

  “Please remain stationary,” the warbot instructed. “Eva Nine, defector of New Attica and spy for the alien races, you are to return with me to New Attica for immediate treatment and reprogramming.”

  Eva stood to face the machine. The barrel of the warbot’s ElectroRifle followed her every move.

  “You cannot escape apprehension. Either come with me of your own will or be immobilized like your sibling, Eva Eight,” the warbot continued.

  Eva unfastened her berry-drenched utilitunic.

  “Make your decision now,” the warbot said.

  “Oh, I’ve made my decision.” Eva hurled the heavy garment at the warbot. It splattered on the machine, covering it in thick globs of eukaberry pulp.

  The warbot fired repeatedly as Eva made off toward the skull of the air-whale. Dozens of floatazoans cried out as they were caught in the torrent of SHOCdarts. Eva felt the sting of darts enter her calves and thighs, followed by a jolt of electricity. She dropped facedown to the gravel, unable to move as her muscles spasmed.

  From the ground she watched the unfortunate floatazoans who had also been shot become electrified. In moments the entire colony swarmed at the feet of the machine and covered it with eukaberries.

  The sand-sniper flew past Eva, carried on its many legs. Though her limbs were im
mobile, Eva focused her teary eyes on the sniper. The monster faced the warbot chattering wildly, with every one of its graspers flexed.

  “It’s a threat response,” Rovender whispered as he knelt next to Eva and began removing the darts.

  The warbot addressed the sand-sniper. “Unidentified assailant, please back away immediately. I will be forced to immobilize you if you do not comply.”

  That invader wants your food, Eva thought out to the sniper. It will take your food and kill all of your food-finders.

  Faster than her eyes could follow, the sand-sniper struck the leg of the warbot, instantly crippling it. Projectiles erupted out of the machine in every direction as it collapsed to the ground, but the volley of darts bounced off the sand-sniper’s hard carapace. The sniper seized the body of the warbot with its pincers and crushed it.

  While the sand-sniper and floatazoans focused on the warbot, Rovender slung Eva over his shoulder and hustled toward Eva Eight.

  Even though the SHOCdarts were now removed, throbbing pain pulsed through the back of Eva’s legs. “Ugh!” she said through clenched teeth. “It hurts!”

  “I know you are in pain, Eva. But we have to hurry before that sniper loses interest in the dead machine.” Rovender set Eva down on the ground along with the air-whale’s fin rays that he’d been holding in his other hand. He began to pull the darts from Eva’s unconscious sister. “Try to use the fin bones as a crutch to help you walk.”

  “They won’t break?” Eva grabbed the ivory rods.

  “Do not be deceived by their thin appearance. They are strong enough.”

  Eva pulled herself up to a standing position using the long bones. Her right leg was still spasming but her left had stopped, though it felt numb, as if it were asleep. Clumsily she hopped on her left leg, using the fin rays as support.

  Rovender pulled off his pulp-covered jacket. He wadded it up and hurled it far in the opposite direction from their camp. The Cærulean picked up Eva Eight with both hands. “Come on,” he said. “We haven’t much time.”