String City

by Graham Edwards

  Sunyana sank to his knees. “Please. I’m begging you. I’ve never let you down. Surely my loyalty has earned some reward?”

  Loyalty is not the issue, only the simple law of supply and demand. For a full year now I have been preparing my spider troops for the invasion of String City. In all that time my frankly remarkable fecundity has meant that my army has been growing faster than I can contain it. Therefore I have required what you might call a “safety valve”. This is how I have been able to supply you with all the spiders you have needed to keep your meat processing plants running at full capacity. As my children have grown, so I have made regular culls in order to save the majority from the threat of overpopulation.

  Now the day of the invasion is close, caution is no longer part of my strategy. On the contrary, I need all the spiders I can spawn. Therefore, I no longer need you.

  The burger was doing more than just turn in my gut. Now it was trying to climb up through my throat. It was one thing to know—like everyone knew—that Arachne wanted the city. To hear her say it out loud was something else.

  As for learning the invasion could happen tomorrow... that was enough to stop your day in its tracks.

  Sunyana felt it too. His black skin went grey; his iron teeth crashed like surf.

  Arachne went on.

  However, in one respect you are right, Kweku Sunyana. You have earned a reward. This is the reason I invited you back to my palace this morning. I regret I may have dismissed you somewhat sharply last night. Today I wish to make amends.

  “I don’t understand,” said Sunyana. In a flash he’d switched from despair through suspicion and all the way to calculation. I wondered who I’d trust least with my mother’s ashes: the asansa butcher or the spider queen. It was a tough call. “What kind of reward?”

  An opportunity to indulge an urge your wife prefers you to suppress. I have a gift for you, Kweku. Behold!

  On cue, a team of spiderlings opened a skylight. A fog-wracked sunbeam refracted through the web, illuminated the spot where Zephyr was cocooned. The light hit her face, made her screw up her nose. She came round, opened her eyes, saw where she was.

  Kweku Sunyana swiveled awkwardly toward her, his movements weirdly like those of a puppet. Swiftly he advanced, metal teeth clacking like a bear trap. He looked out of control, as if his body was doing all the things his mind didn’t want it to.

  Zephyr began to scream.

  36

  I GRABBED A strand of the web, tested it with my weight. The silk sang like a violin. There were words inside the song, barely audible.

  ... glory... girl...

  The music drilled into my teeth. I snatched my hand away and saw the palm was laced with tiny cuts—the silk was full of splinters, like grated glass. If I tried to traverse it, Arachne’s web would cut me to ribbons.

  Words in the web? No time to dwell on it now. Instead I traced the route of the catwalk. It ran all the way round the inside of the pyramid to a point directly above the chamber entrance, right beside the upside-down corpse of Pallas Athene. Immediately over the spot where Zephyr was lying.

  Not stopping to think, I ran. The catwalk’s metal mesh bounced and rattled, but the spiderlings were too busy enjoying the floor show to notice me up there. As I neared the upturned goddess, I primed the abseil pistol and fired it into Pallas Athene’s right heel. The piton bit deep, the cable snapped taut and I threw myself off the catwalk, swinging out wide and slamming back against the goddess’s tree-trunk thigh. I let out the line, jouncing off Pallas Athene’s hips, off the broken shield that concealed the decaying wounds in her chest, off her throat, off her lifeless face. Snarled up in the lank forest of her hair, I finally ran out of cable.

  Below me, Sunyana was bending over Zephyr and using his iron gnashers to snip away the cocoon. Shrugging off her weak punches, he scooped her up, held her tight to his chest. His eyes had rolled over white like a shark’s. A whole new set of teeth thrust forward from his jaw, buzzing like ripsaws.

  I let go of the abseil cable, slithered down through the goddess’s greasy tresses. I steeled myself for a twenty foot fall to the floor.

  His teeth inches from Zephyr’s neck, Sunyana stopped. There was a commotion near the door. Spiderlings were rushing to intercept someone who’d sneaked in unnoticed. They surrounded the interloper. Sunyana turned to look. His hideous jaw dropped wide.

  I guessed the last person he’d been expecting to see was his wife.

  “What are you doing here?” Kweku Sunyana demanded. The buzzsaw teeth didn’t do much for his diction. “How did you find me?”

  “I hired someone,” Kisi replied. She shot me a single glance. “You think I didn’t see your notebook, gumshoe?”

  “This isn’t what it looks like,” moaned Sunyana. His teeth jittered, like they were trying to say something different to the rest of his mouth. His body twitched, drawn by his compulsion to feast.

  “Oh, I rather think it is,” said Kisi. The spiderlings clustered round her legs.

  Climbing down from her knot of silk, Arachne lumbered across the web toward where Kweku Sunyana stood.

  This is an unexpected entertainment, she said. However, it is unwanted. I will not be interrupted in my own domain. My children: the intruder is yours to do with as you please.

  Instantly the spiderlings swarmed up Kisi’s legs. She tossed me a weird look—something between plaintive and furious. Directly below me, Kweku groaned and jerkily lowered his teeth to Zephyr’s neck again. Then, suddenly, the spiderlings were flying through the air. When they landed they were all curled up. Dead. I remembered Kisi mentioning something about martial arts.

  Arms and legs flailing, Kisi Sunyana drilled like a dervish through Arachne’s front guard. Dead spiders started backing up, making a dam that prevented the others from rushing in. I wondered how Arachne thought her invasion plan could succeed, if one woman could cut such a swathe through her soldiers. Then I saw the millions swarming down the web to avenge their siblings. Arachne would win this battle by maths alone. Not to mention any war she cared to wage.

  As a side order, Kisi was doomed.

  But not just yet. Using her limbs like scythes, she slashed through the sea of spiders all the way to her husband’s side. A second before Kweku’s teeth opened Zephyr’s carotid artery, Kisi shoved him backward into a wall of silk. Then she grabbed Zephyr and threw her to the floor. Free of the cocoon, Zephyr came up fighting. Kisi kicked out, caught Zephyr on the side of the head. Zephyr went down again, hard. Kisi reached behind her back, unsheathing the katana I’d totally failed to spot. The samurai sword spun in her hand, stopped with its point against Zephyr’s breastbone. Zephyr froze.

  Kisi glared at her husband, who was struggling to free himself from the sticky web.

  “I’ll start with your lover,” she said. “And I’ll finish with you.”

  She drew the katana back.

  I let go of the goddess’s hair.

  I fell in slow motion, watching the katana circle back, hold, swing forward, round, down... and then the laws of physics finally crashed me on to Kisi’s back.

  For a horrible second I thought the impact had driven the blade right into Zephyr’s chest. Then I rolled sideways and saw that Zephyr was rolling too. The sword bounced on the floor. So did Kisi.

  She came up screeching. Her human mouth poured out more venom than ever came from a spider’s. She ran at me, stopping with her face inches from mine. Her fists were clenched; hell, by the look of her, everything was clenched.

  “You’re good with the truth, gumshoe, I’ll give you that,” she snarled. “Just not so good with secrets.”

  “Truth’s not what you think it is,” I said. “Your husband’s been faithful. More than I can say for you.”

  “Then who is she?” She snapped out her hand and grabbed Zephyr round the throat. Her face contorted with rage.

  “She’s with me,” I replied. I drew back my fist and delivered an uppercut that closed Kisi’s mouth with a crack. I
felt bad about doing it, but I figured it was either her or Zephyr. When I thought of it like that, turned out there was no contest.

  Kisi’s rage turned to abject surprise. She teetered and let Zephyr go. Arachne dropped down from the web behind her. Kisi fell right into the spider queen’s clutches.

  I was of the understanding that you and I had struck a bargain, gumshoe, Arachne said. As she spoke to me, her spinnerets squirted silk cords round Kisi’s neck. After our last encounter, you told me that you never wanted to see me again.

  “Want doesn’t always get,” I said.

  How true. However, in my case, it usually does.

  Arachne opened her mouth wide. Huge mandibles scrambled up and out of her throat. Human arms and spider legs lifted Kisi off her feet. Kisi screamed right up to the moment Arachne bit off her head. After that, she just hosed out blood. Arachne crunched her and swallowed her. A few seconds later she spat out a long ribbon of yellow fabric, splashed with red.

  I never eat silk, she said. That would be just too peculiar.

  Meanwhile, Kweku Sunyana had freed himself from the web. He made a lunge for Arachne, yelling incoherently. I thought Arachne would kill him too, or at least fend him off. But she didn’t. Instead she spread her arms wide, retracted her mandibles and bared her pale human throat.

  It is about time, she said, and allowed Kweku Sunyana to sink his iron shark’s teeth deep into her neck.

  The asansa are known for subtlety and seduction. They like the finer things in life, and pride themselves on being able to suppress their hunger. What happened next was neither fine nor seductive. It was butchery and greed, pure and simple. Within two seconds, Arachne’s throat looked like raw hamburger and Kweku Sunyana was fleeing for the door with mad eyes and black ichor dripping from his jaws.

  I was tempted to just stand and watch. Some sights just grip you, you know? Instead I edged around the shuddering Arachne to where Zephyr stood, dazed. Her jeans were torn and her face was streaked with spider blood.

  “You came after me,” she said.

  I thought about all the things I wanted to say. Mostly I wanted to shake her until all the bones rattled in her scrawny body.

  “Save it for later,” I said.

  “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve got a lot to learn.”

  “Every day’s a school day.”

  The spiderlings were frozen. Like us, they couldn’t take their eyes off Arachne. All those spiders—that’s a lot of eyes.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” said Zephyr.

  Easier said than done. Between us and the door was a wall of spiders. The goddess’s hair was way out of reach. There were no trapdoors, no hidden exits.

  Arachne swiveled in our direction. Incredibly, she was grinning. Her face was covered in bits of Kisi.

  I knew if I asked him back he would bring his favorite teeth! The holes in her windpipe laced her voice with toots and whistles. I also knew he would be angry with me for terminating our contract, that he would be ready to lash out. Therefore he would come prepared. The arrival of your little friend here just made it easier for me to set my trap.

  “You wanted him to bite you?” I said. “Why?”

  You saw how easily his woman cut down my children. They are many, but they are weak. Nobody likes a spider, but everybody is ready to step on one. So I needed to advance their evolution.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” said Zephyr. “How does killing you make them stronger?”

  Arachne didn’t reply. Her body was jerking. Her feet rattled on the ground.

  The holes in her throat started closing up. The human parts of her jumbled up with the spider parts. She healed. She merged. She blended.

  Her teeth grew.

  In spasms, Arachne’s legs curled up underneath her. They stopped, jerked a little longer, became still. Her body looked clean and restored. But it was utterly still. Was she dead?

  Too much to hope for. Her legs uncurled, one by one, spider-perfect. Her torso was lithe and fully human at last; her face was gaunt and gorgeous. She had the mouth of a great white shark and eyes like diamond dinner plates. She was far more than what she’d been, but there was no word for what she’d become.

  Except there was. It tickled the back of my mind, an ancient name from long before the dawn...

  One by one, Arachne’s eight legs reached out, each touching a different strand of the web. The web hummed. The spiderlings tried to run but the web had got sticky—really sticky. The humming coursed through them. Arachne’s spider army rang like cathedral bells. And all the little spiders grew sharks’ teeth also. Every last one of them.

  “Anansi-asansa,” I murmured.

  “What?” said Zephyr.

  “It’s what she is. What all of them are now turning into.”

  “Anansi-asansa? It’s quite a mouthful.”

  “So will we be, if we don’t get the hell out of here.”

  Arachne’s babies opened their altered eyes and fixed on their prey.

  Time to jump the dimensions. I had no choice. It was fifty-fifty I’d survive the journey. With Zephyr on board the odds were a lot worse.

  I gathered her to me. “Hold tight.”

  Something slapped my face: a length of rope. The end of the rope was looped. I looked up, saw a shining bronzed face staring down at me from the open skylight.

  A voice like an old-time radio broadcast said,

  “Please insert your feet into the loop and hold tight.”

  “Who the hell is that?” said Zephyr.

  37

  I DON’T KNOW how the Scrutator hauled us up so quick. Maybe it had a winch in its belly; robots pack all kinds of hardware. All I know is five seconds later we were standing outside on one of the highest steps of the pyramid. The air was clear, the sun bright. We were above the fog.

  “The spiders are coming!” said Zephyr.

  I peered down through the skylight we’d just scrambled out of. Several million ravening anansi-asansa spiders were climbing toward us. The web whined like all the string sections in the cosmos mashed up together, each playing slightly out of key. The sound set off nasty harmonics and I heard those words again: girl... glory. The whole pyramid started to boogie.

  “I will deal with them.” said the Scrutator.

  The robot unlatched its right hand. A welding gun slid from its wrist. I turned away just as an arc of dazzling blue light fused the skylight shut.

  I found myself staring straight down the side of the pyramid. The huge steps descended in a series of vertiginous drops; jump just one of them and we’d break our necks. Below was a rolling bank of grey vapor, thick as molasses. There were no ladders, no ropes, nothing to help us descend.

  “Shame there’s nowhere to go from here,” I said as the Scrutator stowed its welding torch. “Still, thanks. For the rescue.”

  “I had decided to pursue my own investigation into the pyramid,” said the Scrutator. “However, it soon became apparent that you and your assistant were already here and in perilous circumstances. Immediate extraction was a requirement.”

  “Why bother? I mean, why the heroics? I thought your programming was all about the truth and nothing but.”

  The Scrutator froze. For a minute I thought it had shut down.

  Then the gears in its head started whirring again, this time real fast. Behind the fretwork in its cheeks, ratchets caught on pinions, capacitors discharged with great crackles of fire, belts spun so fast they started to smoke. A high pitched whine rose in its chest. I wanted to back off, but the only way was down.

  The Scrutator cocked its head like a big bronzed bird. The whining stopped; the gears wound down.

  “I believe I must have rescued you because it was... the right thing to do. This is... interesting. I calculate that there may be something beyond truth. However, I do not know its name.”

  I slapped its mechanical shoulder. “Buddy,” I said, “welcome to something that resembles the real world.”

  “I hate to butt in,
” said Zephyr, “but we’re in trouble.”

  Above us, near the apex of the pyramid, a ventilation grille flew open with a bang. Spiders boiled out of the exposed duct like black lava and poured down the steps toward us. At the same time, the crane loomed up out of the fog; a gang of spiderlings had hijacked the control booth. The crane swung its load of crates at us, a squared-off demolition ball aimed to scrape us off the side of the pyramid. We ducked. The crates missed the back of the Scrutator’s neck by six inches, reached the end of their arc, swooped back again and smashed into the crane’s supporting tower. The crates disintegrated, shedding vast clouds of tiny black granules into the fog. The stench was appalling.

  “Ugh,” said Zephyr, holding her nose. “What is that stuff?”

  “Dead flies,” said the Scrutator. “Rations for Arachne’s spider invasion force.”

  “MUSCAE MORTUUS,” I said. “Remind me to brush up on my Latin.”

  The sea of fog boiled with black shapes. For a second I thought maybe the flies were zombies, coming to eat us alive. But there were no more zombies in String City. It was yet another battalion of horribly mutated spiders, climbing up from below to intercept us. We were cut off.

  “Did you bring your vehicle?” I said to the Scrutator.

  “Yes,” the robot said. “My automobile is legally parked on a meter at the perimeter of the wharf zone, and is not therefore within easy reach. I have no further contribution to make to this escape.”

  “Sweet,” I said.

  “There’s only one thing left,” said Zephyr. She seized my arm. “You’re the only one who can get us out of here. Fold us up. Do your dimension thing! Hurry!”

  I hesitated. Spiders above, spiders below. Chances were they wouldn’t kill us right away, just cocoon us and take us to Arachne. I tried to imagine what kind of torture would amuse a psychotic flesh-eating spider queen. The bad kind, I decided.

  Zephyr’s eyes implored me. They were black with fatigue and mascara. She looked at me with an absolute trust I’d never seen in anyone before. Not even in Laura.

  “I can’t carry the robot too,” I said at last. “The way the strings are right now, they’d earth on its metal chassis. We’d all get superconducted.”