Onliest

by J Daniel Batt

  “It’s a child,” Syn said.

  Blip nodded. “Maybe. About your height. I think it’s a girl. Caught in this fire.”

  “Was this the person we heard tapping?”

  Blip wobbled his head in a gesture reminiscent of a shrug, even though he had no shoulders. “Maybe.”

  Syn’s eyes went wide. “She was still alive then. You knew about the hatch. You could’ve rescued her. We could’ve rescued her.”

  “No.”

  “Yes! You lied, and we let the only other person on this ship die.”

  “We would’ve been caught in this fire.”

  “She was alive after the explosion.”

  “The fire came much later.” Blip motioned around them and then at the iris. From the mirror side, the iris bubbled out. “Someone’s tried to punch their way through. This junk, the explosion, the fire. All attempts at getting through. Look at the blades.”

  Syn did. The iris blades were scratched and dented up and down.

  “Oh. The debris. They’re throwing these machines at the gate.”

  “And bots,” Blip said.

  Syn looked around, examining the burned bots. Eye-bots. Cleaning bots. Medics. A whole host of various bots. They were all deactivated—empty shells. They had been used as cannon fodder as well. Hundreds of dead bots.

  “Oh,” Syn said.

  “Someone wants through, Syn.”

  “It wasn’t her.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did the companion bot come from here?” Syn asked the question that had been pressing on her the whole journey over.

  “Maybe,” Blip said. Then after a moment, “Probably.”

  They floated around the corpse, staring at the charred hide of the girl. What features she had had were all melted down to the blackened layer upon the skull.

  “What do you think she was like?” Syn asked. She moved a hand up to the corpse’s face and rested the back of it against the dark cheek.

  But Blip stayed silent. Perhaps he’d venture a guess later. Maybe the girl enjoyed singing. Or swimming. But this was not the time for jokes, even if they weren’t intended to be jokes. “I don’t know,” the bot said. “I don’t know at all.”

  Blip floated away and up toward the dented bubble. It served as a small cave from this side. After a moment, he said, “Syn, come here.”

  She followed and glancing back once to the corpse floating along amongst the garbage.

  Inside the dent, someone had scrawled letters. A thin finger had pushed the soot away and left clean metal behind.

  SHES COMI was written in large block letters.

  “What’s it mean? Did she write it?”

  “She’s coming?”

  “Me? Was she talking about me?” Syn put both hands to the side of Blip’s head. “How would she know about me?”

  Blip started to pull away and then recognized Syn’s fear. He pushed closer, “She didn’t mean you.” His voice was calm, assured. He might’ve meant the words. Perhaps even believed them.

  Across the room, something large grunted.

  Blip moved and shut off his lights. He darted back and nudged Syn over. He whispered, “Drop to the sides. Stay behind the big garbage. Quiet.”

  Syn started to speak and Blip gave a sharp, “Shh.”

  Something grunted again, and it was answered by another grunt. The two sounds were moving across the room in their direction, but slowly.

  Blip dropped down and Syn grabbed hold of him, palming the top of his head, gripping onto the sides of his head as he pulled them both down. In seconds, they were out of the glow of the red lanterns and engulfed in shadows.

  Blip allowed one word, “Quiet.”

  Above them, near the center of the room, two large shapes moved. They had arms, legs. Humans. But they were twice Syn’s size in the least. She put a hand to her mouth. Again, the only phrase that came to mind was “Space Pirates.” She knew they weren’t. She knew it was outlandish, but the image kept rolling around in her head. She imagined their large craft jutting out of Olorun’s hull far down the way and the lumbering brutes piling out, looking to steal things.

  But this was not a raiding party. There were just two of them. They seemed massive and moved without grace: burly, large, human-like creatures.

  They grunted back and forth. At one point, the grunts become aggressive, and Syn was certain the two were going to start pummeling each other. They paused in the air above them and squared off. Syn stayed perfectly still, fearful they’d spy something from the corner of their eyes.

  Did they have eyes?

  They moved back toward the far wall, away from the iris. Syn was confused. Had the two things heard Blip and her? What were they looking for? They hadn’t taken anything. Their exit was slow and even after she could no longer hear them, their grunting conversation was still loud.

  She and Blip huddled behind a large chunk of debris. Syn rested her hand on the trash and felt a familiar smooth texture—a coated plastic that felt as if it had been polished to prime. An Ogun. She felt a pang of regret. They had destroyed an Ogun. She loved her Ogun, and she thought all of them were the best toys she could find.

  She couldn’t tell what color this was. It had a similar pin striping along the side, but the gray diamond design that intermittently scattered on hers was absent. So not her Ogun. Not even the mirror of her Ogun.

  This was not a mirror world, she told herself. Despite the similarities, this wasn’t just the opposite world. She shook her head, trying to remove the cobwebs of confusion. No matter what she did, she couldn’t escape the mess that they had appeared in an alternate, polar world from the one they had been in.

  This wasn't fantasy. Not the Hobbit. Not Harry Potter. This was real. This was another gate room, and those were real monsters and a dead girl, and they had all been on the same ship that she’d grown up in.

  “Syn.” It was Blip’s voice.

  She looked around. The two were gone, and she couldn’t hear them either. “Yes?”

  “I think we should go back.”

  She’s coming. The girl’s dying message was a warning. Maybe she was reading into it, but she had talked to that girl, she was certain of that. It was not a far leap to assume that message had been left for them. Who was coming? What did the warning mean?

  She couldn’t abandon it at this point.

  “No,” she said to Blip.

  “It’s not safe. You saw those things.”

  “What were they?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Syn crawled along the edge toward the Jacob ports. “I want to see this Disc.”

  “Syn!” Blip chased behind, “Please.”

  “They’re trying to get through anyway. Don’t we need to see who they are? Why are they doing it? Maybe they’re just desperate. Maybe something has gone wrong here, and they’re trying to save their lives. We don’t know anything Blip.” At the mouth of the Jacob lift, Blip jumped out in front of her. “Wait!”

  He then took off on a fast rotation, glancing down and then spying carefully down each of the tunnels. He moved so fast. In just a few seconds, he was back. “They’re all clear.”

  “Which one do we take?”

  “Your choice, Prince—”

  He hadn’t finished the word, and she slapped him. “Which one gets us closest to the J settlements?”

  “Why that…” he trailed off.

  “J1302-99. I’m going there. Maybe he meant a room on this side.”

  Blip nodded. “This one.” He popped open a lever and the door irised open. The tunnel out of the Jacob was surprisingly clean. It still smelled, but the smell of smoke was faint. There was something else—something moldy and damp. Syn struggled to place the scent. The smell wasn’t as sharp and debilitating as the one they had encountered in the mirror gate room. She reached the Jacob, popped open the controls, and entered.

  “I hope this isn’t loud,” she said, “Is there another way to get a look down below?”r />
  Blip stared up at her. “No, unfortunately.”

  But then he stayed quiet. Finally, he spoke, “Maybe we can.”

  “How? You can tell when a Jacob is going up and down in our Disc. It’s pretty obvious.” As the carriage went up and down, green light shined out from panels along the tower, noting where the carriage was. It was easy to see how soon a lift would be available just by watching the lights.

  “But you’re used to it, aren’t you?”

  She thought about it. It was true. The Jacobs moved all the time. Dumb bots moving between the Disc and the needle or the different levels of the Rise on both sides. The constant movement of the massive elevators had been something she had grown accustomed to.

  “You said there were no bots on this side.”

  “Olorun said there were no bots on this side. I’m beginning to believe Olorun is wrong about a lot.”

  16

  Burlys

  “The stars, that nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps with everlasting oil, give due light to the misled and lonely traveler.”

  —John Milton

  Blip and Syn floated before the opening to the Jacob lift, conscious of their location. An inch or so closer and the door would detect their presence and intent and then open. Far below, if this Jacob were like theirs, a green light would indicate the presence of travelers on the Jacob. If there were more people in this Disc and less bots, they could be alerted to Blip and Syn’s presence. They would know that someone had come through from the other side of the gate.

  The door to the Jacob was like the ones on their side, except for the thin layer of blackened soot left from a fire layered across most of it. Something dark and thick was smeared across the control panel to the left of the large white and gray doors.

  “How big is it?” Syn asked.

  Blip gave a mere grunt of question, unsure of what “it” she was referencing.

  “This Disc. The other Disc. How big is it?”

  “Oh,” Blip said. He waited a beat. “It’s identical to ours.”

  Syn gasped. And after a moment, she pushed forward.

  Blip blurted out, “Stop!”

  She ignored him. The door sensed her. The control panel lit up green and the door slid open to the Jacob lift. Far below, she was certain, a single green indicator light on a thin, vertical display, shone and announced the two.

  The Jacob was dark at first, but the running side panel lights flickered to life. They strobed and revealed a figure pressed against the back wall, its arms spread across the view window.

  Syn jumped back and gave a startled scream.

  At her scream, Blip swung himself into the space between her and the silent figure. “Stop,” he commanded.

  The figure gave no indication of response. Its head was lowered, and it wore baggy, ill-fitting clothing. Behind it, the light from the sunstrips blazed away, silhouetting it. As the adrenaline washed away, Syn noticed the figure was not standing there. It had been tied up against the back of the Jacob. Its thin fingers hung limp.

  No. Not just thin. There was no skin or muscle on them. They were bone.

  Blip moved in close and after a short beep and hum, said, “It is dead.”

  Syn inspected the body. The white of its skull peeked through strips of hardened skin and muscle. What features were there had faded as it decayed. She pulled the ball cap off to reveal a shaved head. Its hands were tied with thin cable, knotted quickly and then latched onto rungs across the top of the Jacob. In its hand it gripped a large leaf, now brown from decay, wrapped around a clod of dirt. Its legs splayed without care across the ground.

  Around its neck hung a gold chain. Syn latched a finger through it and pulled the chain up, yanking from inside the corpse’s shirt. A tiny pink butterfly made of metal and cheap paint hung from the metal cord. She’d seen something like it in the bedroom of the Pote girls. They had a jewelry rack filled with plastic trinkets and a few metal bits. Several of the bracelets and necklaces that Syn wore herself had been taken from the girls’ room. Syn looked down at her own neck. There were leather necklaces, large chains, plastic straps, dozens of odd knick-knacks she’d gathered from her scavenges, and the most recent addition of the wooden beads and the orange tiger pendant. Clipped on to this array were bottle caps she had found, a metal comm ID badge from an officer she had pulled from his body, little rocks, small things she had painted eyes onto and turned into little dolls. On the base of the Disc, the weight pressed against her thin shirt and lay between her breasts. Here, in the near-zero gravity of the needle, the mass of tangled necklaces drifted up, all together in one collection.

  She flipped through the various items hanging around her neck until she found a small gold chain and lifted it up to reveal a pendant of a flower at the far end. It was similar to the butterfly. Same material. Same cheap paint. Hers was done with a yellow pigment that was starting to fade. She held the two close together and made it so the butterfly sat atop the flower as if it was resting after a long flight.

  Syn crouched and stared into the empty sockets of the corpse. What was the last thing this body had seen? She. Not a body. Syn was confident it was a she. And her own age, based on the height. Two bodies. Each were girls. Monsters lived in this Disc, of that she was certain.

  “She,” Syn said.

  “Excuse me?” Blip had moved beyond examining the body, though. He floated near the window, peering down below.

  “She’s dead. She.” Syn floated up, dropping both necklaces from her hands. The two chains drifted lazily. The thin line of metal along the butterfly caught the light from the sunstrips and glinted. “But why? Why do this?”

  The sunstrips above did not provide the pervasive white light as the ones on her side did. Soot dimmed the strips that were still functional. Most others hung, unlit. Several were ravaged, torn into with massive holes from which a wide array of wires and tubes fell out.

  “They’re scavengers too,” Syn said.

  “Not like you. You would never raid the sun.”

  “Why?” she asked again. She did not expect an answer, and none came. Instead, she followed up with a more answerable question, “What do you see?”

  Blip said, “Not much.”

  Thick, dark clouds hovered over much of the Disc. The clouds hung low in the sky. Above the dark billows, the unflinching Orisha masks looked out. Their stoic permanence observed but did not move. Whatever their assignment—protect or guard or warn—they had failed.

  The clouds rolled, as if in a slow boil, and separated, revealing the scorched landscape below. Perhaps buildings, familiar shapes that Syn half-remembered from her own Disc, but no trees. The limited view showed nothing but a barren land. She felt as if she was staring into some dark cavern that she was about to fall into, to fall forever, over and over and over.

  Like Alice.

  “The Rabbit Hole.”

  Blip gave a grunt, “Huh?”

  “We’re going to fall and never land.”

  “We don’t have to go down.”

  Before Syn could answer, before she could even reflect on whether she wanted to, from behind them, down the corridor to the mirror gate room, a slam reverberated. Soon after, a phantasmic howl followed. A second cry answered it. The first replied, and it was louder. Closer.

  “They found us.” Syn’s eyes were wild.

  “They must have been searching!” Blip said.

  “Go!” Syn shouted. Blip flew and moved to the control panel, signaling to shut the doors.

  From ahead of them, down the corridor, one of the creatures erupted. It was even larger closer up. Massive scars splintered its face, making it look like it’s face had been flayed open and left to heal. The one good eye was dark and wild. Its hair was uncombed and impossibly long. Syn had always wondered at her own hair—longer than any girl’s she had seen in the films. The thing’s hair was twice hers and gummed with dirt and mud. Leaves, twigs, and paper littered it. He had drawn large shapes—attempts at wor
ds—across his chest. While he was tall, he was also thin.

  And naked.

  Syn had seen nude men in films. She had seen the naked bodies of corpses before her, and Blip had cleaned up her Disc with the help of the dumb bots, but she had never seen a living nude man. He charged at her, bellowing at the top of his lungs. His furious glare locked on her.

  Like her, it managed the low gravity with grace. It had spent hours up here and moved from rung to rung, pulling itself along with a steady rhythm like a rower.

  And it was fast.

  “Shut it!” Syn yelled at Blip. She was crouched, with her bare feet against the view window, aimed out at him. She gripped her spear and jabbed its point at him. She’d fight.

  Just then, the other one entered the corridor behind the first. Its face wasn’t scarred and its hair wasn’t as long, but it was just as foul and terrifying as the first. Both screamed in unison and charged, faces contorted in rage, drooling and fierce.

  Blip shouted, “The door does not recognize me. It will not listen to me.”

  “Threaten it!”

  “I am!”

  The creature was now a few meters away. With a jerk of its arm, it cleared the distance and swiped a meaty paw at Blip who continued to talk to the Jacob while swerving out of the way. Syn used the moment to stab at the thing. She struck his arm, causing droplets of blood to erupt from the gash and float about her. It howled in pain and jerked back, accidentally hitting the second one.

  “There!” Blip said. The control panel lit green, but the doors still stayed open.

  The creature had lost its momentum, but it spun and reached to yank Syn’s spear from her hands. She saw the intent and jerked the spear up, twisting it to slam the other end up into the first one’s jaw. His head jerked back and head-butted the second one behind it. Two for one. She couldn’t believe her luck.

  The doors began to shut. The one further back wrapped its meaty paws around the side of its companion and shoved it out of the way. The first went tumbling through space, out of Syn’s view.

  Syn stabbed at the second one, but it was faster than the first and avoided the jab. Instead, it gripped the shaft of the spear and pulled on it hard. Syn refused to let go. and the force of the pull yanked her away from the wall.