Geth and the Return of the Lithens

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Geth and the Return of the Lithens Page 4

by Obert Skye


  “I hope so,” Geth said. “We need Leven.”

  “I agree,” Clover said happily while standing tall on Geth’s right shoulder. “And Lilly.”

  “Of course,” Geth smiled. “We’ll get her and Winter and Phoebe and find our way back beyond the border. Finally we have . . .”

  It’s unknown what Geth’s next words were going to be. Chances are they would have been optimistic, or even inspiring, but they will remain a mystery because Geth was interrupted by Eve, who was suddenly sitting up and screaming.

  “Daylight!” she panicked. “They’ll find us.”

  “Who will find—”

  This time it was Clover who was interrupted as several dark flashes swooped in. Something grabbed Clover while another something hit Geth over the head. Geth spun to react, but he was hit again. His knees buckled and he fell to the ground. The last thing he noticed as he went unconscious was the color of brown and the smell of dirt.

  Something big had found Geth and Clover.

  Chapter Five

  Welcome to Zendor

  Games can be varied and interesting. Some games even make you stronger. Take football, for example—all that running and kicking can make a weak person sturdy. Board games like Monopoly make you savvy—the banking and jail time can prepare almost anyone for a real-world business career. Hopscotch can teach you to think inside the box, hide-and-seek is a fantastic precursor to dating, and anybody who’s ever played pin the tail on the donkey knows what it’s like to be disoriented.

  Well, Geth had never had the pleasure of playing football, Monopoly, hopscotch, or hide-and-seek. He had also never played pin the tail on the donkey, but still he was disoriented. He had no idea where he was or what was happening. His hands were tied behind his back and his eyes were covered with a thick strip of cloth tied so tightly that the top of his head felt funny. He was sitting on something wooden, and his feet were sticking straight out in front of him and bound together at the ankles. His body rocked as whatever it was he was sitting on moved. The sound of someone sniffing was coming from down by his feet.

  “Hello?” Geth whispered. “Clover?”

  “Here,” Clover whispered back.

  “Is that you crying?” Geth asked.

  “Maybe,” Clover replied.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Not really.”

  “Are you crying over something stupid?” Geth asked nicely, well aware of the kind of things that usually set Clover off.

  “They stole my robe,” Clover moaned.

  “Is that even possible?”

  “Yes, Mr. Impossible,” Clover sniveled. “Now I’m tied up and unrobed.”

  “Sorry,” Geth tried.

  “Yeah,” Clover replied. “I can’t see you but you’re probably smiling.”

  “At least you’re covered with hair.”

  “Small comfort,” Clover lamented.

  “Are we alone?” Geth asked.

  Geth’s answer came in the form of a swift blow to the back of the head. The blow was proof that they were not alone. The blow also knocked him unconscious for the second time in one day.

  When Geth came to again, he was still tied up but lying facedown on a stretcher being carried. There was no talking from anyone around, just the sound of feet moving along what sounded like a dirt path.

  “Who are you?” Geth called out.

  Whoever was carrying him dropped the stretcher, causing Geth to slam to the ground. Then, before he could react, he was hit swiftly once again on the back of the head.

  It was many hours before Geth came around from the latest hit. When he awoke, he was lying on the dirt with his hands and feet no longer tied up. The room he was in was dim. Trace amounts of light slipped in like paper under the door, allowing him to see. The room was small, with a door and a big window that was completely blacked out. The floor was dirt, but there was a bed with a hay-filled mattress and a small chest of drawers with a pitcher on top of it. In the corner was a bucket, and Geth thought back fondly to the ice caves he and Winter had once spent time in.

  Geth stood up and swayed. His head felt like a big rubber ball that was attached to his body with a string. He put his hands up to try to keep his noggin from falling off. As soon as he was stable, he stumbled to the chest of drawers and picked up the pitcher. He finished off every last drop of water and then set the pitcher down. He turned and looked around the dim room more thoroughly.

  “Clover?”

  “What?” a muffled voice replied.

  “Where are you?”

  The top drawer on the chest slipped open two inches. “In here,” Clover said glumly.

  “What are you doing in there?”

  The drawer opened farther and Clover emerged. His top half was gray and furry, but his bottom half was sporting a grass skirt.

  “I’ve never wanted to be invisible more,” Clover complained.

  “Where’d you get that skirt?”

  “I wove it from some of the hay in the bed,” Clover said. “It’s all I could find.”

  “We’ll get your robe back,” Geth promised.

  “I hope so,” Clover said sadly. “I had a number of things in my void that I needed to feed and water.”

  “So do you know where we are?” Geth asked.

  “No clue,” Clover replied. “I woke up on that mattress and haven’t seen anyone. I tried the door but it’s locked. How’s your head?”

  “Horrible,” Geth answered, “but I’ll live.”

  “You still feel good about exploring that cave?”

  “I feel like we’re right where fate would want us,” Geth replied. “Any idea what happened to Eve?”

  “I never saw her after they took us.”

  “I hope she’s okay,” Geth said sincerely.

  “I’m sure you do,” Clover grumbled. “But if I were you, I’d worry about us first.”

  “I’m not worried about us,” Geth said, looking around. “This is just what I needed.”

  “I’ve gotta get some new friends,” Clover complained.

  Geth walked to the door and tried the knob. The doorknob was locked solid and made of metal. Geth ran his hands over the back edge of the door and felt the large iron hinges.

  “I don’t think we’re in Foo,” Geth whispered.

  “Oh, yeah,” Clover said, rustling over. “The doorknob’s metal.”

  Geth walked to the blacked-out window. The window frame was wood, but the lock in the middle was iron. The glass was covered with what felt like a thick coat of tar, making it impossible to see out.

  Geth looked over at the bed and glanced at the bedposts. There were wooden balls on all four corners. He stepped over and kicked one of the posts as hard as he could. The ball popped off and flew against the wall with a crash. Geth and Clover stood still, listening. After three minutes Clover said, “I don’t think anyone heard.”

  Geth walked over and picked up the wooden post top. He then returned to the door and began to feel around the hinges. He took the ball and jammed it up against the bottom of the top hinge. The metal hinge pin began to inch up. Geth hit it again and then pinched the top of the rod and pulled the pin all the way out.

  “Nice,” Clover observed.

  Geth did the same thing to the middle and bottom hinges. He then handed one of the metal pins to Clover.

  “Hold onto that,” Geth whispered. “If you have to, you can throw it or jab it at someone.”

  Clover looked at the metal pin in awe as Geth worked his fingers into the side of the door by the unpinned hinges. He groaned and pulled the entire thing open. The door fell off its frame and tipped backwards. A silvery shine poured into the room like mercury splashing up against the corners and walls. Geth slowly lowered the door and placed it on the mattr
ess as Clover shielded his eyes.

  “Well, that didn’t do us any good,” Geth said, staring at where the door had been. Right behind it was a set of iron bars.

  “It does me some good,” Clover said, slipping out between the bars and into the stone corridor. “Ta-da!”

  “Excellent,” Geth said. “See if you can find some way to get us out of here.”

  “There’s no way out,” a gravelly voice said from across the corridor.

  Clover slipped back into the cell and grabbed onto Geth’s left leg. The cell across the corridor from them was dark.

  “Hello?” Geth called out.

  There was some shuffling, and then, like a character from a pop-up book, a short, red-haired being appeared behind the other bars, staring back at them.

  “There’s two of you,” he observed nervously.

  “Yes,” Geth replied. “I’m Geth and this is Clover.”

  “You look beat up,” the man said sadly. “And a sycophant in Zendor, that’s a sight for sure.”

  “Where are we?” Geth asked.

  “It’s called Zendor now,” the little man answered. “You’re behind the back border of Foo.”

  “Amazing,” Geth observed.

  “Bad luck is more like it,” the red-haired man said. “This is no paradise.”

  The little man sighed. He was no more than four and a half feet tall and wore a blank expression. He had a tight, deep-red perm and a small button nose. He was lean but stood with a slight hunch. His long arms hung like loose springs at his side and he had on a dirty blue bodysuit. His ears were small, making his large brown eyes look even bigger. Yellow teeth poked out from behind his red lips. He kept his blue hands in front of his orange face.

  “You’re a cog,” Geth said with authority.

  “Yes,” the man said dispassionately. “My name’s Sig. I am here by accident; you’re here on purpose.”

  “Fate moves me where it should,” Geth said defensively.

  “Yes, yes,” Sig said hotly, putting his hands up to cover his face. “Fate this and fate that. Your fate is that the boors have deposited you here. Who knows for how long? Perhaps forever.”

  “That’s pretty long,” Clover complained. “And why are you covering your face?”

  “I don’t enjoy showing emotion,” Sig said.

  “How do we get out?” Geth asked.

  “You don’t,” Sig said, lowering his hands slowly. “The corridor doors are completely iron and if you do break the glass on your window you’ll find bars there, too.”

  “Clover can slip out of those,” Geth said.

  “It’ll do you no good anyway,” Sig complained, putting his hands back up over his face. “Why not just wait for your blessed fate to take care of you?”

  “That’s a possibility,” Geth replied. “But I feel like pushing it along.”

  “He’s not very patient these days,” Clover said, standing in the corridor once more.

  “And what are you going to do if you get out?” Sig asked, disgusted. “You know nothing of Zendor.”

  “What should we know?” Geth asked with interest.

  “For starters, it is unstable,” Sig said. “Most of the ground around here is volatile. It’s a forgotten realm filled with confused dreams that come in and stay. Metal is used for weapons and building and there are no nit gifts or sycophants to comfort anyone. And, unlike in Foo, all who walk these lands are capable of being killed.”

  “That’s a condition I’ve dealt with before,” Geth said.

  “There are two sides here,” Sig continued. “Those who stand with the trees, and those who cower and hide.”

  “Geth loves trees,” Clover announced.

  “These aren’t trees like you know them,” Sig said. “They are dreams and people who have been taken over by Payt. The most common dreams materialize and get trapped here—they have an overabundance of astronauts and female presidents. Fate brings in a few actual people, but very few. It’s unclear just how one is snatched from Reality to here, but there are some theories. Some think fate snatches those who stand still too long in Reality, and some think you’re brought to Zendor when you lean in the wrong spots. However it happens, it happens occasionally, and it happened to Payt. Things were wonderful until he arrived. Most who are brought here spend years just trying to adjust. Not Payt. He saw an opportunity and he took it. He witnessed how passive this place was and instantly began to organize and conquer. It was he who changed the name. He has made Zendor his and works to keep it that way.”

  “How?” Geth asked.

  “He has the ability to seduce almost anyone with whom he comes in contact,” Sig said. “His words steal their souls and make them his slaves. Those slaves are called boors and they cling to trees, waiting to do as he commands. If you were to look outside at this moment you might not see them, but they’re there, clinging to trees—thousands and thousands of brainless boors that do only as Payt commands.”

  “So what’s the other side?” Geth asked. “Who cowers?”

  “All those who haven’t been swayed by him yet,” Sig answered. “Nobody fights, and the numbers are dwindling.”

  “So how did you get here?” Geth asked.

  “I was minding my own business in Foo,” Sig said, frustrated. “I had been visiting a tavern near the Hidden Border. Yes, maybe I had drunk a bit too much cider, but I was able to feel my way around when I left. The problem was that both my head and the sky were filled with fog. I thought I was making my way home when I hit a wall. I followed it, thinking it would lead me somewhere, and it did. It led me here. I didn’t even know there was anything behind the Hidden Border. But I found an opening in the wall, and when I walked through it the fog cleared and I was standing in Zendor. I turned around, and the opening was no longer there. There was no exit.”

  “Where’d it go?” Clover asked with great interest.

  “It went out to dinner,” Sig said sarcastically. “How should I know? I just know it was gone. All that was behind me was a massive wall riddled with caves and holes, but none of them appeared to be the one I had come out of.”

  “Interesting,” Geth said softly.

  “Yeah,” Sig grumbled. “A real fascinating story. I was captured by the boors moments later and locked up in a cage for three days until I was taken to Finis to see Payt. He talked at me, but his words did nothing to brainwash me. He tried repeatedly, but when it was clear that he couldn’t control me like he does all the others, he had me sent here. I’ve been locked up ever since.”

  “What about us?” Clover asked. “Shouldn’t we be clinging to trees by now?”

  “I don’t know what will happen with you,” Sig said callously. “I’m here because I’m unswayed by Payt’s words and I feel no desire to fight against him. I want nothing to do with any of it, so they have left me here to rot.”

  “So you had a chance to fight and you chose this?” Geth said hotly.

  Sig covered his face and shrugged.

  “Pathetic,” Geth judged as kindly as he could.

  “At least I’m alive,” Sig said defensively.

  “Some living,” Geth told him.

  “Judge me if you want,” Sig snipped. “But I’ll be alive and you’ll be dead, just like your friend they took.”

  “What friend?” Geth asked quickly.

  “The girl,” Sig replied.

  “There was a girl with us?” Geth questioned.

  “Red hair,” Sig said. “She was scraped up and didn’t appear to be much of a threat, but they took her to Payt.”

  Geth turned to look at Clover. “Eve,” he said.

  “How can you tell?” Clover asked, looking around. “It feels like morning to me.”

  “Not that kind of Eve,” Geth said, frustrated. “Th
ey’ve got Eve.”

  “Oh,” Clover replied. “The girl that started all of this.”

  “Actually, I think you started all of this,” Sig said. “Eve went after you because of what’s been prophesied.”

  “And what’s that?” Geth asked slowly.

  “The return of the lithens,” Sig replied.

  Geth and Clover looked at each other.

  “I just got chills,” Clover whispered.

  Geth looked up and out at Sig. “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Sig said. “It’s a silly story that people have told each other for years to make themselves feel better. Six months ago things changed here; something must have happened in Foo. The border glows now.”

  “The restoration of Foo,” Geth explained.

  “I’m still talking,” Sig complained. “A little extra light and everyone starts thinking that now is the time for the prophecy to be fulfilled. With the border glowing, hope of things changing grew here. Payt, of course, couldn’t stand for that and he’s snuffed that hope out at every turn. Things are now worse than ever.”

  “So what happens to Eve when she gets to this Payt guy?” Geth asked.

  “She’ll be killed,” Sig said slowly. “When he learns what she did in an attempt to destroy him, he’ll destroy her. She not only left Zendor, she was looking to harm him. It won’t be tolerated. He’ll kill her and then send some of his more cerebral boors to come finish you off.”

  “Why didn’t they just take us with them in the first place?” Geth asked, frustrated. “I should be there.”

  “You don’t understand,” Sig said condescendingly. “The boors have been turned into rubes by the seduction of Payt’s words. They aren’t free thinkers. In fact, they do nothing on their own besides gather and hold prisoners for Payt to take care of. They were sent after the girl, but knowing what to do with you is not in their wheelhouse. If you escape, they will capture you again and again until they are instructed otherwise. Zendor is filled with prisons just like this—places where dreams and people are held until Payt can come and brainwash or destroy them. This place we’re in now used to be a vacation spot years ago. It’s made up of hundreds of small cabins that people came to for relaxation. Payt put bars around everything and walls and ceilings over all of that. So the boors will bring the girl to Payt, he will be informed of what has happened, and then, calculating the distance between here and there, you can expect a visit from his henchmen in a week or so to take care of you.”

 

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