by Jason Segel
“Who are you?” Wayne demands.
“My name is Fons, and this boat is my home. My father is the Elemental who rules this sea, which is why I’m allowed to carry weapons if I please. My mother is the beast from below,” says the Child. The second he says it, I realize that the appendage I’d assumed was a tail is actually a tentacle. “Now, if you don’t mind my asking, who are you?”
“Someone you don’t want to mess with.” Wayne bares his teeth like a rabid pit bull. For a second I see the evil beneath his bland disguise. “Now give me the gun.”
Fons cocks his head and observes Wayne quizzically. He seems intrigued rather than intimidated. “You must be quite important if you feel you have the right to come to my realm and issue orders.”
“As far as you and your kind are concerned, I’m God.”
“This is Otherworld,” Fons replies calmly. “We choose our own gods here.” Then he tilts his head back and calls out in a strange, singsong language. I have no idea what’s happening until a shadow falls across the deck and I turn to see a giant tentacle rise up from the water. It towers over the ship before it swoops down to snatch Wayne. It squeezes his avatar until its face turns purple and its eyes bulge out like a cartoon character. When the body flashes and goes limp, the tentacle slams it back down on the deck. The avatar flashes once more when it hits, and the tentacle retreats, disappearing beneath the waves.
Fons aims his gun at Wayne’s head and pulls the trigger. Three kills in a row. Wayne’s avatar is headed back to setup. As soon as the body disappears, the Child turns his gun on me.
“No!” Kat shouts. “Don’t hurt him! We’re not like the other guests. We don’t murder your kind.”
“There’s only one guest in Otherworld who neither murders nor lies,” says Fons. “I’ve learned not to place any faith in the rest.”
“The female is telling the truth.” The giant elephant Child steps between Fons and me. He’s reappeared topside with a group of other Children who must have been imprisoned in the hold below. “The guest you shot forced the male to fight me. He had the chance to kill me, but he refused.”
Fons waves the elephant Child to the side and steps up to where Kat and I stand. His nose twitches as if he’s picking up a strange scent. “Why are you here in Otherworld if you don’t want to kill?” he asks.
“Why is your friend in the gray coveralls here?” I reply. “He’s a guest too, isn’t he?”
The Child smiles, and his mouth stretches all the way from one side of his face to the other. It’s a rather disturbing sight. “You know Alexei?”
“We’ve never met him,” Kat says. “But we saw him kill the avatar in the swamp to protect you.”
I don’t think the Child is happy to find out that someone was watching, but I’m almost relieved when his creepy smile disappears. “Why are you here?” he asks again coldly.
“It’s complicated,” I tell him. I don’t have time to recount the whole story.
“You think I cannot understand?” the Child sneers at me. “You imagine your kind is more intelligent than mine?”
“No,” I assure him. “We know the Children are our equals. We’re here to help them, not kill them. That’s what the Creator would have wanted us to do.”
“We knew Magna,” Kat explains. “The man you just shot is the reason he’s dead. His name is Wayne Gibson. He let Magna die so he could take over a company your Creator founded. Now he’s responsible for the guests who are destroying your world. We thought we knew how to force him to get rid of them all. But our plan didn’t work out the way we expected.”
That’s putting it mildly. Everything’s gone to hell. We might be able to use Milo’s hologram to destroy the Company, but it would die a slow death. It could take months for the enterprise to finally go under. In the meantime, the Children could die—along with Marlow, Gorog and James Ogubu. James Ogubu. As the name passes through my mind, it gives me a jolt of hope. Ogubu’s avatar is still here in Otherworld. If he can tell us where his real body is, we can free him. He was one of the Company’s top engineers. Maybe he’ll know what we should do.
“We need to get to the ice fields,” I tell Kat. “Ogubu’s our only hope now.”
She nods. She must have figured it out too. “How long do we have left before Busara and Elvis pull us out?” she asks. “We’ve been here for a while now.”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I think time is moving faster in here than it used to. We might be able to make it. If not, we can come back.”
Fons steps up to us. Something has piqued his curiosity. “What do you hope to find in the ice fields?” he asks.
“A man who might be able to help us,” I say.
“One who can rid this world of guests for good,” Kat adds.
I hadn’t thought of it like that, but it’s certainly possible. Milo stole James Ogubu’s software to make Otherworld. Who knows what Ogubu will be able to do?
“Then we’ll go to the ice fields,” Fons announces. “You.” He points at Elephant Boy. “And you two.” He chooses two of the Children who were brought up from belowdeck. Small and wiry, with silvery skin that shimmers in the sunlight, they’re clearly related, perhaps even twins. “The four of us will escort these guests.” I can see why Fons would choose the big dude for an expedition. The other two Children look like underfed seventh graders. They’ll only be liabilities.
“Thanks for the offer,” I tell Fons. “Kat and I can make it to the ice fields on our own. We’ve been there before. We know the way.”
“Our company is not optional,” says Fons. “I would like to meet this man for myself.”
Fons isn’t much of a talker. He leads us back through the swamp, around the city of Imra and down the side of the mountain—all without saying more than half a dozen words. I get the sense that the three other Children in our expedition would be far more personable if he weren’t around. But anyone who speaks out of turn gets knocked to the ground by the guy’s giant tentacle. Fons either hates guests or mistrusts us, or both. I don’t blame him. I’d just love to know why he thinks this Alexei guy is different from the rest of us.
We stop for a break in the wastelands between Imra and the ice fields. Kat and I collapse beside a rocky outcropping surrounded on all sides by sand and scrub.
Fons pokes me with the tip of his tentacle. “How are your energy levels?” he inquires.
“Low,” I admit. The truth is, they’re almost depleted. I can’t even remember the last time my avatar ate. Kat seems just as exhausted. With her forehead resting on her knees, she’s all but invisible in her camouflage suit. All you can see is the bow strapped across her back. I reach out to her and Fons’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second before he quickly looks away. He’s probably not used to witnessing affection between guests.
“You’ll need food before we begin our trek across the ice,” he says. And just so I don’t think he’s developing a soft spot for us, he makes sure to add, “None of us wants to carry you.”
I hold out my arms as if to embrace the emptiness all around us. “Thanks for the nutritional advice. Could you point us in the direction of the nearest 7-Eleven? I could really use a hot dog and a Slurpee right about now.”
“Make mine a blue raspberry,” Kat adds, her voice seeming to come out of nowhere. I swear the girl never lets me down.
Fons doesn’t dignify the quip with a response. “Stay here and make a fire,” he orders Elephant Boy. “You.” He signals to one of the twins, who both seem as fresh and energetic as they were when we left, which makes me think I may have underestimated their usefulness. “Come with me.”
The twin who’s been left behind immediately gets to work gathering scrub for the fire, while Elephant Boy arranges it in a meticulous pile in the center of a circle of rocks. I wait until Fons has disappeared over the horizon before I lean forward and spea
k.
“My name is Simon,” I tell him. “That’s Kat.”
“Hey,” says Kat. Her face becomes visible for a moment as she lifts her head from her knees.
“Probo,” he grunts back without taking his eyes off his work.
“Where did Fons go? Is there really food around here?” I ask.
“If there is food, Fons will find it,” Probo says. “He’s traveled everywhere in Otherworld. He’s seen things the rest of us have not.”
“So you know him?” Kat asks.
“Everyone knows Fons,” Probo responds.
The lithe little Child who’s been gathering scrub scampers back in our direction with more fuel for the fire. “You’re not allowed to talk to them!” she hisses at Probo when she arrives.
“Screw off,” Probo replies. The small creature drops what she’s gathered into his lap and darts away again.
“You speak like one of us,” Kat notes with amusement.
“I know your kind well,” Probo replies bluntly. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good thing, but his answer doesn’t seem to faze Kat.
“What were you doing on the boat in Nemi?” she asks.
“Waiting to be taken back to Karamojo,” he says.
“Back?” I ask. I wasn’t aware that Children ever made it out. “You escaped?”
“While I was at Karamojo I heard a rumor that there were colonies of Children living free in the wastelands. The day I was chosen for the hunt, I made a run for it. A few of the other prisoners begged to come with me, and I led the party into the swamp. We were free for a few hours. It was my fault we were captured. I’m too big to hide. Two bounty hunters spotted us and rounded us up. They took us to Nemi, where we were being held until Moloch’s soldiers could transport us back to Karamojo.”
The small creature is back with another load of scrub. “I’ll tell Fons you’ve been speaking to the guests!” she hisses.
“Do as you will,” Probo says. I can’t tell if he’s given up hope or just doesn’t care. I suspect it’s a bit of both.
“Why is she so scared of Fons?” Kat whispers when the other creature is gone once more. “He rescued you both, didn’t he?”
“The Children know that if you’re rescued by Fons, you’re expected to live by his rules. You trade your life for your freedom.”
“What kind of rules?” I ask.
“The first rule is no talking to guests. Ever.”
“What’s going to happen if that little snake over there rats you out?” I want to know.
Probo shrugs. “We’ll find out soon.” He finishes shaping the scrub into a mound and sets it on fire.
I like this guy. Fons can go to hell as far as I’m concerned. I’ve got Probo’s back. I catch Kat’s eye and I can tell she feels the same way. I never doubted she would. We’ve both always had a healthy disrespect for authority.
“Why does Fons think he gets to call all the shots?” Kat asks.
“He’s the favorite companion of the guest who saves Children,” says Probo. “The Creator is gone and Ursus is dead. Some say the man is a tyrant, but he is all we have.”
I have a million more questions for Probo, but there won’t be time to ask them. A scream draws my attention to the left. A tiny figure is racing toward us with a giant pink monster hot on its heels.
“No.” Probo’s single word is filled with more horror and disbelief than any I’ve ever heard. He can’t believe what he’s seeing. I still have no idea what it is.
Kat jumps to her feet, her bow in her hands. Three arrows pierce the air. Two fall short of the mark, while one hits the larger creature in the flank. The wound does nothing to slow it down. With my dagger clenched in my fist, I break into a sprint. I can’t risk throwing as I run. If I don’t land a hit, I’ll lose my one and only chance. The Child and I will both be dead.
The beast gets clearer as I get closer. I can see it’s a mutant bear from the ice fields, its snowy white fur died pink by blood. Whose blood is anyone’s guess. Most guests still avoid the ice fields, for good reason. Three more arrows fly past me and embed themselves in the beast. One of them is lodged six inches deep in the creature’s rib cage. The wound should have been fatal, but the beast doesn’t stumble.
This isn’t right. An ice bear shouldn’t be here in the wastelands. An ordinary beast—even an Otherworld monster—should have died by now. The small Child whizzes past me and an instant later, I make contact with the bear. It knocks me backward as my dagger sinks into its skull. The beast roars in pain. But it doesn’t fall. My knife is still sticking out of its temple. Eleven inches of steel have entered the beast’s brain and yet it continues to go for the kill.
I hear a gunshot and part of the beast’s head explodes in a shower of blood and tissue. A second shot follows shortly afterward, and what was left of the bear’s head is blown away. The decapitated corpse falls on top of me. I’m crushed beneath it, unable to breathe.
“Simon!” I hear Kat’s voice and the sound of her feet as she runs my way.
Soon the bear’s carcass rolls off me, and I marvel at Kat’s strength. She’s like one of those parents you hear about who lift cars off their kids. Then I see Probo beside her. Kat drops to her knees and brushes the hair off my face.
“Is he alive?” It’s Fons’s voice, as emotionless as ever.
“Yeah, I’m alive,” I groan. “I appreciate the concern.”
Now he’s looking down at me as if he sees something that interests him. “Go get dinner started,” he orders Probo, and the elephant Child disappears from view. “You are really hurt,” he notes, keeping his voice low. “How is that possible?”
“We told you, we’re not like the other guests,” Kat says. “When we get injured, we feel it. And when we die, we’re gone for good.”
With Kat’s assistance, I manage to sit up. Fons kneels down so the three of us are face-to-face. He’s staring at us as if he’s discovered a whole new species. I suppose in some ways he has.
“Why did the bear attack you?” he asks. “What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Kat’s justifiably annoyed by the question. “The thing came out of nowhere. It was chasing the twin who’d been gathering firewood. Simon and I tried to stop it.”
“Something was wrong with it,” I add. I glance over at the beast. Without its head, it’s impossible to offer a diagnosis.
“You’re telling me you risked your lives to defend one of our kind?” Fons asks. I have no idea if he’s happy about it or not. “Why would you do that?”
“What else were we supposed to do?” I ask. “We couldn’t stand there and watch someone get eaten.”
“Someone,” Fons repeats skeptically.
“Oh, give me a break. Your friend saves Children,” I say. “Why is it so hard to believe that we would too?”
“It’s hard to know what to believe anymore,” Fons tells us. He looks up at the sky and then around at the wasteland. “Everything is changing. Nothing is how it was meant to be. Beasts never attack Otherworld Children. This is the first time I’ve had to kill one.”
I know how he feels about everything changing, but this time I don’t say a word. Maybe someday we’ll swap stories over beers, but Fons doesn’t seem like the sort of guy who’s interested in having a shoulder to cry on.
“Are you able to stand?” he asks me.
“I think so,” I tell him. Kat hops up first and offers a hand. I’m a bit wobbly, but I’m on my feet.
“Good,” Fons says. This time he actually sounds like he means it. “Come to the fire. I found food.”
The three other Children are already seated in a circle around the fire, using sticks to make kebobs out of something that still appears to be wriggling.
“I am Ita,” says the Child Kat and I saved. She points to the identical Child sitting beside her. “That is
my sister, Ino.”
“All rules still apply,” Fons grumbles, and both mouths instantly seal. But no one got whacked by his tentacle. And our little companion has managed to make one thing perfectly clear—she won’t be ratting out Probo for speaking to the guests.
My eyes dart in his direction, and for the first time I get a good look at the meal he’s making. A dozen large scorpions impaled on sticks are waiting to be roasted. My knees buckle at the sight of their iridescent green exoskeletons glinting in the firelight. The scorpion back in Texas looked just like them. Kat manages to catch me before I fall all the way to the ground.
“Simon, what’s wrong?” she asks, her voice a worried whisper. “Are you okay?”
“No,” I tell her honestly. I am not okay at all. I wish I could say more, but this is neither the time nor the place.
“Sit him down,” Fons orders. “He needs food.”
The two smaller Children hop up and help Kat guide me to a seat. A leather bag gets moved to make a place for me at the fire. A giant green scorpion scuttles out from inside it and scampers over my shoe before it vanishes into the scrub.
I think I need a lot more than food.
* * *
—
Nothing is how it was meant to be. The whole way to the ice fields, that thought has been bouncing around in my head. Milo Yolkin’s world is falling apart, and it’s taking mine down with it. Things that belong only in this world have been showing up in the real world. Characters who belong in neither place have been making cameos too. Today we passed through a snowstorm on the way to the glacier. Though it could have been my imagination, I thought I saw a figure standing in the distance. It was nothing but a gray blur in the middle of all that white. But for a moment I could have sworn it was the Kishka. Kat must have seen me staring into the snow. She’s been quite attentive for the past few hours, which tells me she must be concerned. I wish I could say I’ll be all right, but I’m no longer sure I will be.
